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gimmeurtmi · 7 months

Text

kinktober day five — hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: friends to lovers (kinda), kinktober series, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, nude drawings, fingering, masturbation, use of “pretty”, lmk if i forgot anything!

inspo: uni student hyunjin but make it art

kink: exhibitionism

{ wc: 2522 }

It was a strange thing to be offered, but it was also flattering to be seen as a suitable candidate. The art department had reached out to a number of students to act as models for their sketch class—and you were one of them. It probably helped that your best friend, Hyunjin, was taking that class and you were sure he was the one to mention your name first.

He had asked you a few times to model for him and the only time you said yes was when you found a thrilling show to watch while you modelled; it was easier to stay still with your mind so occupied.

So you said yes.

And only then did the teacher tell you there was a catch.

“Nude?” You all but screamed.

“I know you and Mr. Hwang are close so I can pair you two together—but if you’re more comfortable modelling for a female student that’s fine too. Either way, you won’t be able to participate until you sign the forms.”

You looked at the consent forms in your hand, mulling it over for a few moments still. Modelling for a girl would be more comfortable, but you didn’t know anyone that took Art and being naked in front of a stranger was far more nerve wracking to you.

You called Hyunjin right away. He assured you he’d make sure you’re comfortable and that you didn’t have to agree at all and that he would buy you lunch for a week. He needed a good score on this assignment and he, too, didn’t feel all that comfortable sketching a stranger under those circumstances.

So you signed the forms.

You decided to use your room for the assignment, for privacy reasons and to help you feel more at ease. Nothing could be too scary with your supportive plushies in the same room as you.

Hyunjin walked in with his iced Americano (a second one for you, too) and started setting up his station.

He put all his pens and pencils in order, three huge erasers, two sharpeners, and his giant sketchbook. It was so big you guessed the sketch would end up being life sized.

As he set everything up, you fiddled nervously with the string of your robe. It was just your bathrobe, nothing too special, but the whole situation made your heart race and there was sweat gathering on your forehead.

You weren’t so sure if you could do this after all.

“Hyune,” you start, “does it have to be completely nude?”

He looked up at you from where he was straightening his pencils, eyes boring into you. You swallowed.

“Those are the requirements,” he caught his bottom lip between his teeth before he adds, “do you wanna put on some underwear as a warm-up?”

“Do you need sketches of me in my underwear?” You purse your lips.

“Not really,” he says, bashfully, “but if it’ll be an easier start for you?”

You inhale deeply. Untie your bathrobe. Exhale.

You let the fabric fall off your shoulders, pooling at your feet, before you settle on your bed.

Hyunjin nods at you with a small smile, encouraging.

“You got this,” he tries, putting a fist up in the air in solidarity.

“Can I put on a podcast so I don’t get bored?” You say, conscious to not move your legs too far apart.

“Sure, it’ll probably take me a while,” he chuckles, “I need to do like five.”

“Oh, dear god,” you roll your eyes and Hyunjin laughs at you. The nerves you were feeling have all disappeared already—it actually isn’t too weird being naked in front of him.

He’s your closest friend, has seen you being sick after drinking too much, has seen all your embarrassing childhood photos, has seen you with bed head and delirious from no sleep. He’s seen it all—so it shouldn’t be too weird for him to see your tits, too.

Hyunjin directs your poses, the first one casual as you lay on your back. He’s only sketching your upper body, he says, from the neck to your bellybutton, so he lets you cover up your bottom half with a blanket so you aren’t too cold. The first pose is fun since you don’t have to do anything too strenuous.

Once he flips the page on his sketchbook to a new one he changes your pose. This time your profile is facing him, the leg closer to him bent to hide most of your body. You don’t get the privilege of warmth this time, and your butt starts hurting after ten minutes in this position. But you focus on the podcast that’s still playing in the background instead, trying to be a good model for Hyunjin.

For the third pose he gets up and moves the table to the very edge of your bed. You look at him questioningly as he does so, before you let out a small, “why?”

“It’s just that, well, I need a close up,” he whispered the last part, eyes focused on rearranging his pencils neatly.

“Of….?” You think you know the answer.

“Of you,” he says, pointedly, and so you understand.

You can’t help but think he was going too easy on you until now, that this was the real assignment and he didn’t want to scare you away. And perhaps it worked, because the thought of Hyunjin staring at your pussy with that amount of concentration doesn’t scare you as much as it would’ve twenty minutes ago.

It actually… excites you. You feel a tingle all around your stomach, and your heartbeat feels louder all of a sudden.

It was one thing to just be naked in front of Hyunjin, but having him look right at you, with his face frowned in concentration made your core flutter.

You nod timidly at Hyunjin’s questioning look before he smiles. He sits back down on his chair, grabbing his pencil, and getting to the task at hand.

You feel yourself getting wet at the amount of attention he’s giving your body—even if it’s just with his eyes—and you hope he doesn’t notice it. But you do, and with your legs spread the way he asked them to be, you can even smell your own arousal. You hope he isn’t close enough to notice it as well, but you have a feeling that hope is futile. He can definitely tell.

“I read a lot about this once we were given the assignment,” he starts, focusing solely on his sketchbook as he talks, “and sometimes models feel.. you know. So don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m…” you wanted to defend yourself, because you weren’t even that embarrassed. Just surprisingly turned on. “Okay.”

“It would be more embarrassing for you if you were a guy, guys can’t hide it,” he says, as if to make you feel better.

“I don’t think I can hide anything from you right now,” you scoff at him. Hyunjin giggles in response.

He lets another five minutes or so go by before he takes a look at his drawing. You can’t be too sure because you’ve never seen yourself so close before but it looks like a good sketch. A really good one. You’re flattered at the attention to detail and it doesn’t make you feel shy anymore. You’re almost proud.

“When I was reading,” he coughs, “there was someone who said it’s nicer to sketch those body parts after.. a.. well,”

“You’ve just stared at my vagina for twenty minutes straight, Hyune, surely you can get some words out.”

He looks up at you, eyes round and glossy. His plush bottom lip is slightly red from where he’s been sucking on it as he draws.

“Female genitalia is a beautiful subject to draw after the model has experienced sexual gratification.”

You burst out laughing. “Who talks like that?”

“That’s a direct quote from the article!” He defends.

“So you want me to sexually gratify myself?”

He blushes deeply at that, shaking his hands quickly. “Not if that’s weird! Just if you wanted to. I have enough to probably pass I was just curious if she was right about it and—“

The words die on his tongue when you bring your hand between your legs. Your actions are fuelled by a strange bravery you aren’t familiar with, and the insane amount of arousel that’s coursing through you.

He quickly gets up, turning his eyes away from you.

“Wait, I can leave and you can call me back in when you’re d—“

“—don’t,” you say, running your fingers up and down your wetness, “maybe you can draw the process, too?”

His eyes go wide, so wide he almost looks like a cartoon, before he’s fumbling around to find the chair again. He sits down, quickly grabbing his pencils but they all fall onto the floor in his clumsy urge to get drawing right away.

He recovers them quickly, setting them aside but not at all bothering to arrange them in his neat order like before.

“Yeah, good idea,” he finally says, trying his best to look and draw and breathe at the same time.

He doesn’t have time to draw you teasing yourself before you slip two of your fingers inside you.

The sight is so pretty, so beautiful, and Hyunjin freezes for a moment. He blinks once then twice before he quickly starts putting pencil to paper and sketching out the sight before him.

He knows he won’t be able to do any of it justice but he has to try.

“Can you, move a little less?” He asks after a moment or two.

“I won’t reach sexual gratification if I don’t move,” you explain with a chuckle. If you’re honest, having Hyunjin watching you touch yourself might be enough to get you to cum without much movement at all—but you aren’t sure he should know about all that.

“Yeah, but it’s fucking beautiful and I want to get the details right,” he says.

You exhale lightly at that, trying not to react too much to what he just said. You aren’t sure if he can see you clench around your own fingers or not, but you nod in agreement.

“Pull them out a little bit, just so I can see better,” he directs, so simply, as if he isn’t talking about your fingers deep inside your cunt.

You follow his directions dutifully, as you’ve done all afternoon.

It’s just half of your fingers now, which isn’t much, but you can still feel the stretch. Still, with no friction available to you it makes you needy. So needy.

You want to move your fingers more, you want Hyunjin to watch you do more.

“Hyune,” you say, softly.

“Yeah?” He asks, still concentrating on his task.

“Wanna move now,”

“Just a few final details, okay?” He adds in a whisper, “you’re so beautiful,”

“Hyunjin, please,” you let out, because his compliment isn’t helping your patience at all.

“Would it help if you moved for a bit and then went back to the same pose?” He offers, eyes swimming in sympathy.

“It would, yes,” you nod quickly.

“Go on, then, just for a bit,” he smiles, supportive, before his gaze goes back to his sketch. He takes an eraser, fixing up a few details in an attempt to give you some privacy. But you don’t want that at all.

“Hyunie,” you whine out, and his head snaps up in a second. “It’s no fun if you look away.”

“I, I’m trying not to,” his eyes jump between your face and your exposed pussy, then back to the page. “You should have some privacy.”

“Don’t want it,” you say quickly, fingers moving slowly in and out as he gives you a bit more attention, “want you to see this.”

“I wanna see it too,” he says quietly, “it’s so beautiful.”

“Then look at me,” your fingers move quicker now, your palm resting against your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, “watch me fuck myself.”

“Fuck,” Hyunjin all but moans, head falling backwards before he quickly zeros in on your cunt.

You let your eyes scan down to his crotch, see the bulge he’s so clearly been trying to hide.

“Come here,” you ask him, patting the space next to you, “want you to really see me.”

Hyunjin almost flips the table over and runs to you, but instead he just trips over one of the legs, letting all the pencils fall again, before he’s climbing onto the bed.

He settles right in front of you, his knee touching your ankle, and lets himself fully gape at the sight in front of him.

“I looked through a lot of portraits you know,” he starts softly, his voice lower than usual, “and I think your pussy is the prettiest one.”

“Maybe it has something to do with the artist,” you smirk at him, mostly to try and hide how much you like him complimenting you.

“Not my sketch,” he’s quick to correct you, “the one here.”

As he says it, he brings his big hand on top of yours, pushing against your hand until your fingers go as deep as they can.

You moan loudly at that, jaw hanging open.

“That’s what you wanted, deep,” he confirmed to himself, looking at your knuckles disappearing into you. “Looks so nice like this, too.”

He grabs your wrist, lifting and pushing your hand in an impossible pace. Your fingers are sore from it after only a few seconds, but Hyunjin’s beautiful face is looking right at you and so you don’t do anything but moan.

“So pretty like this, too,” he says, slightly strained.

You grip his bicep, needing something to ground you as the pleasure starts building and building. It’s much more solid than he lets on, his arms big and strong and his grip on your hand tightening as your whines grow higher and higher until— “I’m gonna…”

“Want me to see it? Should I watch as you cum all over your fingers, pretty?”

And that’s all it takes for it to hit you at full force, your eyes shutting tightly as the pleasure takes over.

Hyunjin giggles at you, small dimples appearing by his cheeks as he averts his gaze away from you. He’s so beautiful even with his head turned away, looking for something.

He quickly finds it and grabs the tissues by your bed to hand you one. You quickly clean off your fingers as you giggle.

“Should you get back to drawing now?” You ask, breathless.

“Yes,” he nods, getting up with a very obvious tent in his pants. He adjusts himself as discreetly as he can, but a sense of pride takes over you knowing you’ve made him hard in the first place.

He gathers the pencils off the floor.

“Next I think I wanna draw your face when you cum, it’s really fucking gorgeous,” he says offhanded as he sketched out the outline of your cunt.

“I’ll have to cum again, no?” You mumble.

“That can be arranged,” he doesn’t even look up.

Your breathe catches in your throat.

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helluvapoison · 3 months

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rating how hazbin characters would handle a break up with you (except it progressively gets worse)

warnings: angsty, obsessive and unhealthy behaviors, alcohol, sex and drug mentions

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

Charlie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

4/10 • She’s her father’s daughter, that’s for sure. Inconsolable, Charlie makes a cacoon out of her blankets and doesn’t leave for a couple hours… days… Putting on a brave face is hard for her. How is she supposed to invoke inspiration when she feels so fucking hopeless? As long as she doesn’t see you, she can force a smile and continue to run the hotel

Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚

3/10 • So this is what betrayal feels like. Sharpening the blades around her wounded heart and rebuilding her wall of defense, Vaggie vows never to make this mistake again. She goes through the 5 stages of grief but lingers on anger for a really long time. Not at you, never at you, but herself

Angel Dust ⁎⁺˳✧༚

2/10 • Throwing up the illusion he’s unbothered only works for so long. Angel can snort, drink and fuck until he’s numb all over but the void in his soul refuses to be filled by anything that’s not you. You, unwittingly, threaten his chances at redemption because he’d rather go back to Val’s place than live under the same roof as you when you’re not his

Sir Pentious ⁎⁺˳✧༚

6/10 • He’s devastated, don’t get it twisted, but has a really interesting way of always picking himself back up. Pen would be courteous to you, albeit awkward, trying to understand the fresh dynamic between you. Catches himself when he tries to reach for your hand or sit next to you. It’s hardest when he’s alone, not even the Egg Boiz can cheer him up

Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚

1/10 • It’s not an accident or a cry for help that he drowns himself in alcohol to the point he can’t get up. He’s stopping himself from falling to his knees before you and begging for you to come back. The bar goes unattended for the longest time, he can’t bare the thought of seeing you

Alastor ⁎⁺˳✧༚

-500/10 • On the outside he’s right as rain! His smile never dropped before, you certainly won’t change that. Alastor doesn’t appreciate the sensitivity around the subject, loudly declaring that everything is fine. The room get’s notably colder when he walks in it, like he’s intentionally sucking up the light and warmth. If you thought parting ways with him would be easy, g̵̛̻ǘ̶̮͜è̶͔̫s̸̝̅s̵̯͒͝ ̵̺͚͛̈ą̸̫͝g̴͈͗̈́ā̷͉̻̋i̶̯͓͊n̵̳̓

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie morningstar imagine #vaggie x reader #vaggie imagine #angel dust x reader #angel dust imagine #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious imagine #husker x reader #husk imagine #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor imagine

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moonstruckme · 15 days

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If you don’t mind what about poly!marauders (emts version) x reader where she hides a injury that’s kinda serious (idk like a cut that’s pretty deep or smth) but she doesn’t think it’s serious, so she tries to hide it from them to not feel like a burden since they are always busy with work. Basically just a mix of emts marauders and casual dominance

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: mention of blood

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You’re trying to figure out whether putting your shoe in the washing machine will damage it irrevocably when the bathroom door handle twists.

You look up like a deer caught in headlights. Sirius’ gaze flits from the shoe in your hand to the bloodstained sock on the floor to your wide-eyed look.

“Shut the door!” you whisper-yell. He must be reeling, because he actually does it, closing the door with a click and dropping down beside you on the bathroom floor.

“What’s going on?” he asks. Again, his gaze goes to your once-blue sock, now marred by a dark red stain. “Are you hurt?”

You see the moment Sirius notices the foot you’re holding, layers of toilet paper wrapped loosely around the arch. His eyes sharpen.

“Don’t tell James and Remus,” you plead.

“Are you hurt?” he asks again, sternly now.

Your lip finds it way beneath your teeth. “Not really,” you say. “It’s not terrible or anything, I just can’t get it to stop bleeding.”

“That’s not usually a great sign, sweetheart.” Sirius scoots closer, holding out his hands. “Let me see.”

You know better than to argue, transferring your foot into his lap. He gives you an odd look about the toilet paper before starting to unravel it, the thin material tearing under his rushed handling. Your boyfriend relaxes slightly when the wound is revealed. It’s deceptively small for how much blood seems to come out of it, the cut only a couple of centimeters along the arch of your foot.

Sirius adjusts his grip, lifting it to the light to see it better, and you try not to look so visibly flustered at the tender way he’s handling you.

“It’s little, see?” you say. “No need to bother anyone else.”

He lowers your foot to give you an amused look. “Darling, as much as I love to have our dirty little secrets together,” he says, “you know they’d kill me.”

“They wouldn’t,” you say, half desperate. “They love you, and I’ll protect you anyway.”

Sirius’ mouth pinches. He thumbs at your ankle apologetically. “James would have us both flat on our backs in under a minute. Admire your confidence, though.” He sucks in a breath. “Rem, James!”

The TV shuts off, and then there are footsteps on the stairs. Sirius is impervious to your glare, only picking your foot up again and turning it this way and that to see it better.

“What?” James calls. You can hear Remus grumbling about how your apartment is hardly large enough to necessitate this much yelling.

“In here!” Sirius shouts back.

The door opens a second later, your other two boyfriends crowding the already small bathroom. James is crouched in an instant, setting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder to steady himself.

“Oh, lovie, what’d you do?”

You open your mouth to respond, but Sirius says, “Can one of you grab the first aid kit and a pen light? I can’t see if there’s anything still in here.”

“There shouldn’t be,” you say as Remus goes for the kit. “I already took out the glass.”

Both Sirius and James look up from your foot, eyebrows raised.

“And what were you doing that you ended up with glass in your foot?” Sirius asks.

Your shoulders gravitate towards your ears. “Cleaning up the glass that I broke.”

Remus hums disapprovingly as he passes a pen light to Sirius, who clicks it on, shining it onto your foot. You do your best to pretend this doesn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin.

“When did that happen?” he asks.

“This morning.”

“Sweetheart.” James’ disapproval is evident in his voice. You can’t bring yourself to look up and witness it in his face, too.

“And why didn’t you say anything when you hurt yourself?” Remus asks. He sits down beside you, eyes on what the other two are doing though you can feel his attention on you.

“Because I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly.

He tsks, and he doesn’t need to say anything more. It’s plain enough you’re in trouble.

For a few moments, the silence is thick and hot, torturous, but surprisingly it's Sirius who does you the mercy of putting you out of your misery.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve got any more glass in here.” He clicks off the pen light, and your hamstrings sigh in relief as he lowers your foot to rest back in his lap. “That’s lucky,” he tells you severely. “You can’t always rely on just picking out the big piece and having that be that.”

“Stitches?” Remus asks, and you tense. You hadn’t even considered that.

“I don’t think so,” Sirius says, but he sounds uncertain. “It’s just barely deep enough, though.”

“Let’s see.” James holds out his hands, and Sirius hands it off to him. You try to ignore the fact that your foot is being passed around like something a child brought to show-and-tell. James takes up the pen light, peering at it for a few moments before nodding decisively. He pats the side of your foot. “I think you should be safe.”

You must look as relieved as you feel, because James smiles, squeezing up the length of your calf.

“What I really don’t understand,” he says lightly, “is why the hell you’ve been keeping it wrapped in toilet paper.”

You can’t help but return his smile sheepishly as you shrug. “It works,” you say. “Plus, Remus gatekeeps the first aid kit.”

“It’s only in the cabinet above the toilet,” Remus sighs.

Sirius scoffs, and James across you to pat him on the thigh. “No one can reach it up there but you, love.”

You look over in time to catch your boyfriend’s eye roll, paired with the smirk he tries to hide. “Regardless,” he says, “it seems as though it wouldn’t be an issue if anyone who can’t reach it,” his eyes slide to yours, and you find new interest in the floor tiles, “would just ask someone else to get it for them, rather than being secretive.” You can feel his gaze searing into the side of your head, but you refuse to look up even when Sirius snickers and pinches your leg meanly. “If you didn’t have the kit, how did you clean it, dove?”

“It’s clean,” you hedge, but make the mistake of looking up into Sirius’ stern gaze. He cocks an eyebrow as if to say Go on. “I ran it under the tap in the bathtub.”

Remus sighs, Sirius groans, and James lets his head fall fully forward onto your knee.

“Sweetheart,” James presses a kiss to your shin, “my love, I know you mean well, but this is why you need to tell us things.”

“What’s the problem?” you ask as Remus moves to sit by Sirius, opening up the first aid kit. “Water’s just as good.”

“It’s really not,” Sirius says, “seeing as antiseptic kills bacteria and water doesn’t. Do you want to stay where you are or sit up on the counter, darling?”

“I’ve got a better idea.” James scooches over by you, lifting you by your waist and setting you in his lap. “There. Far more comfortable, don’t you think?”

“Much.” You grin, turning your head to kiss him. “Thanks, Jamie.”

“Spent a whole day keeping secrets and still getting the princess treatment.” Sirius’ tone is equal parts teasing and affectionate as he smooths a hand up and down your calf. “We must really love you or something.”

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eupheme · 7 months

Text

— meet me in the woods

halsin x druid!reader/tav

rated e - 7.2k

tags: double druids, smut with feelings, aphrodisiac (in the form of a fertility solstice), mates/mating rituals, hinted at breeding kink, poly!halsin (but has a connection with you), pleasure dom!Halsin, canon-typical violence, masturbation, miscommunication, oral, PiV, size kink, multiple orgasms, cum play

Living in the city had muted your druidic powers, cut you off. That all had changed, in your journey across Faerûn. Something inside of you had cracked open - letting nature and instinct sink in.

And in spite of the feelings now burning inside you - you don’t know what it means to celebrate the Solstice. Luckily for you… Halsin is there to help you through your first.

The sky has started to slip from soft shades of blue to deep orange and purples. Your wrist aches from where you scrub at your hide armor, removing the layers of grime from the long days of travel.

Your eyes flick up, like they have three times already in the last ten minutes. Across the twist of smoke from the fire that Gale tends, a cauldron of stew that has begun to fill the camp with it's rich aroma.

To where he lounges. To where your eyes meet soft green.

You look away.

"Do you think he's looking at us?"

You don't mean to ask this question out loud. It's a thought that swirls in your mind - slipping between teeth and a tongue loosened from a warm afternoon under the sun and a flagon of crisp wine.

There's the cutting strike of shale against steel. Sharp eyes flicking across to where yours have slipped, once again.

A lip curling, with the click of a tongue.

"Chk. I've seen that look on a male before." Lae'zel's tone is knowing, the slightest hint of a smirk sent your way, as she sharpens the edge of her longsword, "A bear that wishes to devour."

You blink, glancing her way at the humor in her voice. Trying to ignore the fluttering flip in your stomach at the thought.

"Oh, I am not so sure he sees me that way." Your knuckles curl as they press into a stain, your eyes dropping in mock concentration.

A red eye cracks open near your hip, Astarion's head propped up on the wrap of your bedroll. Curled like a cat under the sun and with the wafting warmth of the fire - a hand coming up to shield the bright glare above.

If it had been anyone else lazing next to you, you might have asked them to lend you a hand with the basket of vegetables for the stew - the next in your long list of things to-do. But secretly, you were just pleased he chose to spend the afternoon near you.

"Gods - I took you for boring, darling. But I never took you for stupid." He sighs, with a stretch.

Well, you had been pleased.

He ignores your look of offense as he pushes himself up on an elegant elbow, chin propped in the cup of his hand, "I don't think he's stopped looking at you since he's joined us."

A wistful sigh, "It's enough to make me wish I had saved that child."

Before his nose wrinkles, as he reappraises that thought with displeasure.

"Appreciate that, friend." Your response to his earlier remark is flat, as he flops down again.

"Oh, don't be like that," He drawls, "You were the one who asked."

The misdirection is noted with a small huff of a laugh, as you turn back to work again. Flipping around their thoughts in your own mind.

How you wish that were true.

Your own feelings were no secret to yourself. There had been no pretending in your heart, after your first meeting. Even if you had not always known the strength of your powers, you had always known yourself.

There had been a near-instant attraction with your first meeting. A suspicion that there was something special about the bear trapped in the worg pens. That feeling blossoming with the fluttering in your stomach when he had changed - the depth of his thanks at your aid in protecting the Grove.

A seed had been planted then. A hope that perhaps, with time - with some tending - that there could be more. That feeling only grows since, flourishing, weaving its way between your ribs.

And lately, you think there has been something more. His laugh comes easier. An eagerness to join you when you left the camp. Never far from you, when you return.

You were the first one he turned to after the rage of battle.

“Are you well, teuivae?”

As if you could not mend your own wounds. The word that slipped from his tongue lost as his eyes searched - until he was satisfied that the blood splattered across your leather armor was not your own. Broad hands that cupped your face. Close enough to brush his own against yours, but instead he had hovered.

Waiting - but for what, you did not know.

It had you wondering. You suppose enough now that those thoughts have made their way out into the world. Not knowing what to do, with your friend’s confirmation.

That feeling only increases, the turn of the moon turning it into a surging weight in your chest. Something physical, that gnaws at you. Tipping past want and hurtling towards something that felt like need.

Your thoughts of desire running wild, until you can’t help but slip your fingers beneath the layers of your bedroll. Your teeth biting into the heavy fabric that muffles the quick circle of your fingers, the soft sigh of your relief.

It was hard not to. To see him that way, to want him.

He is kind. Almong the best Elves you have met. He could take care of you. Your mind tells you, now. Protect you.

A very instinctual thought, one that you’ve brushed aside. You don’t need protecting. How could one protect against the tadpole, better than you already are?

But the thought comes back.

He would keep you safe. You know that, as certain as the changing of the seasons.

How quick he already is to race to your side - all teeth and claws. Imagining the honor of sharing his bedroll, how he’d wrap around you…

Only now do you realize you’ve been staring - your damp rag hovering in your still hands. A small shake of your head as you concentrate on your work. Making a point not to look again, to push the thoughts from your mind.

You really needed to get a hold of yourself.

You’re still thinking about it later, as dusk settled. The sky now streaked with hues of purple and grey, the camp littered with small fires and torches. Bellies full of stew, content to wind down after the long day.

Under the stars, it's impossbile to ignore just how much things have changed.

In the city, everything had felt muted.

Even in the outskirts, the small towns you had flitted to. The desire to fit in cutting off your attunement with nature.

But, after the Nautiloid. After you had crashed down to the Wilderness. Met the others - truly embraced who and what you were - things had changed.

You felt more like yourself than ever.

Even when you thought your time left was marked by days. Hours.

The warmth of the sun against your face. Acres of trees, the bark rough beneath your fingers as you climbed.

It seeped into your skin. Invigorating you. That liminal space between beast and body melding as you changed freely, unrestrained by space or propriety.

It was freeing.

You didn't have a coven, in the city. A lone wolf - left to wander along.

Forgetting how it felt to channel the forces of nature, with the night air wrapping around you. A bond formed when you had met Halsin, your first prolonged contact with another Druid in years. Something had been planted, watered with admiration, carefully tended in the absence that had soon come.

An urge to stay at the Druid's Grove, once the fight was over. Something unlocking in you, a need for kinship.

It had been ignored - there had been no other option. But it was like part of you stayed cracked open. Inviting nature, the whims of Silvanus, to eddy inside you. Growing potent, under the wax and wane of the moon above.

Intimate feelings mixing their way in along the way. Undeterred by the quiet, shared murmurs. Of rumors and whispers of Halsin's many lovers - good natured ribbing about his scar.

You had often thought your heart was too large to belong to only one other. It had been a relief, when you heard Halsin speak the same, around the fire.

Not fearing a connection, but not limiting it. Like nature itself, he had said. His eyes had found yours - you had taken it as some sort of lesson, from the Archdruid.

Perhaps it had been an invitation, instead.

The thought is pleasing to you. Enough so that you think… you think it’s worth being brave for.

You can’t help but seek him out, once more. Thick arms cross over a broad chest as he talks, though you’re too far away to hear. But it doesn’t stop his gaze from finding yours over the top of Wyll’s head. The way his friendly smile softens, a look you suddenly feel certain is just for you.

One you return, as that thing inside your chest swells. Blooms.

You’ve trusted your gut so far.

You’re ready to trust it again.

There is a stirring. A rooting, something sprouting in his chest. A feeling that has flickered before, but never this strong.

It had been easy, for gratitude and respect to bleed into something more, after their first meeting. After seeing such a fierce little thing take down two goblins with the flash of sharp teeth, sharper claws. A worg following, almost bigger than themselves.

Few would have stood before him, after. A frown as ferocious as their bear-form as she had offered her own opinion on how to handle the Druid Kagha, though his sentence had already been bestowed.

It had been hard not to smile.

There had been more pressing matters that had kept him away, after. Denying the offer to join her - them - the Emerald Grove had needed him more.

But still, something had lingered.

A connection. Something invisible that ties them together, that has nothing to do with the being that squirms in her mind. It begins lower - beneath the cage of ribs and where, perhaps, something soft lies.

It has him feeling like a yearling again, in spite of his three hundred and fifty years amongst Faerûn.

As the moons have passed, he'd become too accustomed to the gleam of her fur, in the sunlight. Nearly blinding him. Eyes as sharp and a tongue as quick as his.

Her true form as pretty as a field of wildflowers, of the rainbow spray of colors against the mist of a waterfall.

Evenly matched, he has thought. More than once.

The sentiment settles in his bones, trapping him - a rabbit in a snare. Though he's not so desperate to be freed, as he might have thought. The idea of being tied down had never been appealing.

But there is no urge to leave. To walk amongst the forest again, to find his way back to the Druid's Grove, for Spring. To dance and join beneath the moon, like he had for so long.

A more singular focus taking over his thoughts, as the rite approaches. A deep-seated hope, his affections shown in the ways known by his people.

Many have begun their attachments in the span of evenings to follow. Perhaps they would take the same path, if is she was willing.

The thought is more than pleasing.

It has him seeking out the eyes that fall on him so often. Finding where they linger now, in the flickering of the fire. The look she gives him - one of consideration, one of seeing in a new light - is one he knows well.

The beast inside him can read the subtle looks like tracks in the mudbank. The glitter of lights in her eyes like runes - etching a message just for him.

Enough that when she turns from the fire, when she pushes herself so carefully up - slipping like a shadow, into the forest...

It's impossible not to follow.

You can feel him behind you, as you weave through the trees.

Anticipation, excitement, pricking up the hairs on the back of your neck. Guided by the stars that sift through the canopy of leaves above.

Your feet know the way, though your mind does not. Guided by something primal inside you, taking you to a small clearing.

Grass blankets the space, tucked away in the forest. Dotted with wildflowers, a break in the branches above to let down a shaft of moonlight.

The armor you once clung to left back at the camp. An innate knowledge that there was something special about this place - that you were safe here. Protected by your own abilities. Even more so, with him following.

There is much said, in the look that he gives you as you turn. The shift of his shoulders as he approaches, a slow nod of approval as his eyes sweep across the clearing.

“You’ve chosen this spot well. The Solstice, could you feel it?”

His words make you frown, suddenly unsure. The curve of his smile wanes at your silence, as he takes another step closer, “Is that not why you’ve come here?”

The hope you’ve carried sinks, settling low in your belly. So unlike the weight that was there before - one of hunger and desire.

“I must confess, I had been hoping.” He continues, with a cock to his head, “But it seems like we are on different paths.”

You have to answer him, you know this. It takes a second to gather your courage, this meeting quickly taking a much different turn that you have expected.

“I do not know anything of your Solstices. I came here because I hoped…” Your gaze drops, unable to look at him, “I had hoped that you would follow. That this night might be ours.”

A hand cups your jaw, tilting your head up. To your surprise he is smiling, his thumb stroking across your cheek, “Your answer relieves me. We are not so far apart. I thought I had been clear, but it seems you are still unsure of my intentions.”

Something flips in your stomach, melting the spray of ice that has coated your insides. A small flutter of hope, as your eyes search his green ones, “What do you mean?”

“I have become so accustomed to your presence, that I’ve forgotten that our ways are still unknown to you.” His voice softens, and you can’t help but lean into his touch - hanging on to each of his words, “I’ve been courting you for some time, now.”

Time freezes, for a moment. Your mind whirling past all the small moments you’ve collected - held so close to your chest. Reaching out to touch others that now made more sense.

Bringing you your share of dinner at the camp. A solving of the mystery of a fire that had been stoked during the night, an extra pelt placed over you for warmth. Caring for you.

You had mistaken them all for chivalry.

“-and I had thought you were accepting, tonight. With the beginning of the Solstice.”

“I must be dense.” You can’t help but smile, with a sensation of being able to breath again, “I had my own wishes, but I never knew-”

“I should have been more clear. Forgive me,” His hands touch his scars, his smile turning wry, “I thought it wise to let you set the pace of our journey.”

Hence his waiting for you to kiss him, after that battle. His following you, tonight.

Courage rises in you, once again.

“I want you to show me what it means to celebrate.”

He softens, for you. Hands dropping to entwine with yours, bending until your foreheads touch, “Then I am yours.”

The slightest tilt of his head, bringing your joined hands to point at the heavens.

“With the spring comes new beginnings. We lead the way, with the Solstice. Baring our flesh and joining beneath the moon, in an offering to the Oak Father.” His words are a low rumble, it’s impossible not to focus on his mouth, the way it quirks at his next words, “It is… rigorous.”

The heat that has simmered for weeks now flares to life, as his eyes darken.

Bu there's something small tickles at you, making you lean back. Your brow furrowing, needing the clarity.

"Is it just the Solstice that draws you to me?" Is it just duty that has ensnared his affections? Is this no more than fulfilling the desires of Silvanas?

He laughs, with a shake of his head, "If our first meeting had been in the Grove, your beauty would have been more than enough to enthrall me."

The knowledge is flattering. That he still would have wanted you, in another life, in another time. His next words are enough to cast the rest of your doubts aside.

"But make no mistake. For quite some time now, I have desired more. Deeper than the skin, down to the marrow." He brings your entwined fingers to his mouth, his lips pressing against your knuckles, "I fear you stole more than gold that day, in the Sanctum."

There is much that he reveals, with his words.

A sense that your feelings are more than reciprocated. A reminder that he does not mince words, like others you have known.

For as keen as your eyes are, you should have realized this sooner. The last curl of unease lifts, wafting up to stars above.

“How do we begin?”

“Eager. I like that.” Halsin grins - his eyes dragging over you, as his voice pitched low, “For starters… you are overdressed.”

With as large as his fingers are, they are dexterous as they tug at the tie of your tunic. A palm curling around your waist, tugging you close as your face tips up to his.

“And there is usually music.” He murmurs, dipping just enough to brush his mouth against yours, “But I am sure we can make our own.”

His name is a soft sound on your lips, before they press against his. Warm and solid and plush, a sigh in his throat as your hands reach up to grasp at broad shoulders. Slipping to tangle in his chestnut-colored strands, keeping him pulled close.

And you are reminded that he is strong. Abandoning your shirt when your tongue brushes his lip. Hands catching the underside of your thighs to haul you against him.

Your legs stretch wide around his waist. One of those hands moving to splay across the small of your back, a low growl rumbling as you nip at his lower lip.

Hunger gnaws at you, as he deepens the kiss. An ache to be closer, unable to get enough of the taste of him as he licks into your mouth.

Holding you against him as he sinks to his knees. Bringing you down against the blanket of grass, nestling you against it. A low chuckle at the way you still cling to him, entangling yourself around him like vines, as Halsin begins to tug at your clothes again.

Carefully, as if it's a gift to unwrap you.

"Come now, my love." He coos - another gentle tug, as you finally let go.

The air ghosts against your skin, warm with the changing of seasons. A low sound of approval with each layer that is stripped from you. The curl of a palm against your ankle, tugging off your boots. Heat pooling low, as fingertips brush up your thigh, settling at your belt.

"I long to see you bare beneath me."

He touches you as if he can't get enough. The sweep of his thumb over your thigh. Fingers joining yours as your hips lift, allowing him to peel your trousers down, and then off.

You think that perhaps it should feel strange, to be naked in the moonlight. But Halsin eclipses the brief fluttering of unease. The hunger in his expression captures yours, as he leans back to sit on his haunches.

So broad, so big. You think the desire must match in your own eyes, his sentiment so shared.

"Join me," You coax, a hand reaching for his thigh - feeling the muscles jump underneath.

His grin gleams in the moonlight, as he lets you start to do the same to him. Distracting you terribly as his hands skim from your waist to cup your breasts, teasing and pinching.

Only tearing the sleevless tunic from his shoulders before he's curling over you - his mouth pressing against your neck. Inhaling your scent with another low growl, his nose skimming over heated skin.

Those lips pressing against your throat, the threat of teeth as they part. You squirm beneath him, something inside you aching for him to bite down. To mark you.

You can feel his smile against your skin, his hands still teasing the tight peaks of your nipples. One drifting lower across sternum and belly, drifting across the curve of your mound.

It’s easy to arch into his touch, to urge his fingers lower. The sweep of his fingertips is so light, a summers breeze against your skin - a low hum of a laugh as your hips jerk again.

“I know it’s affected you.” There’s the slightest pressure - thick fingers split, tracing the crease where your thigh meets groin. Purposely avoiding where you need him, where you know you’re wet and wanting.

Another sharp intake of breath, before he’s pushing himself up to hover over you, “At camp. Your smell. It was difficult to hold myself back.”

He touches you, then. Twin moans as his fingers slip against slick flesh. Dripping, for him. Almost making you forget your words as the pad of his fingers circles your clit, as your hand brace against his biceps, nails biting skin.

“W-wasn’t the coming of Spring.” You protest - the rhythmic swipe of his fingers stealing your breath, “It was just you.”

The look he gives you then - it’s all soft edges, wrapped in a focus that’s so intense your eyes flutter shut. It’s too much, his gaze, his touch.

A low groan from his chest then, in recollection, “There were many nights lately where I wished to offer myself for your pleasure. Perhaps I should have.”

For your pleasure. Few would word it that way - conjuring images of him beneath you. His tongue tracing the same path of his fingers, your thighs pressing against the long points of his ears.

It makes you clench - the simmering fire in your belly sending up sparks, stoked by the way his head moves lower. Your fingers slipping to twist sharply in his hair, as his tongue peeks out to brush your breast.

“More, Halsin. I need you-” You pant, your free hand fitting under the bulk of his shoulder. Reaching to nudge his hand down lower, until his fingers are brushing your entrance.

He traces you, before he sinks into you, down to the first knuckle. His hands are so much bigger than yours, there’s already the slight stretching burn as he eases deeper.

The tilt of his head, chin pressing against your ribs. The fire burns in his own eyes, a heavy press of his hips against your thigh, letting you feel him.

“If we had been at the Grove, I would have hoped you would have chosen me as your mate for the duration of the three nights.” It’s a confession, the word mate ringing out - enthralling you, “Now, I do not know what tomorrow brings. I will give you all that I can, tonight.”

In a fluid motion, he moves. The ripple of muscles as he shifts between your thighs - their breadth stretching them too wide. Enough that you have to hook one over the curve his shoulder, before his head dips.

The heated swipe of his tongue hits you just as his finger presses deep and curls. You’re instantly thankful for his three hundred and fifty years, with the pointed exploration of his mouth.

A groan as he tastes you, those green eyes fixing on yours again. Fitting another finger into you as your heel digs into his shoulder, as your head tips back with a cry.

It’s too much. Pleasure skitters through your stomach, your hips moving on their own, matching the steady thrust of his fingers. How he drags them against a spot that makes you keen and squirm, before sliding them free to fit them between his lips.

Tasting the honey of your arousal, his lips already shining with you, before filling you again. Muscles clenching like the pull of a bow, waiting for the arrow to fire.

Halsin moans into your cunt like he’s feasting, like he truly means to devour you. His own hips pressing into the ground, easing his own need for friction.

Too practiced with the tight flicks of his tongue, the way his lips kiss and suck against the sensitive bud. The press of his fingers loud with how wet you are, matching your sharp, panting breath.

His name is a whimper before your muscles string even tighter. Going stiff as your breath catches, a pathetic whimper of a sound before you’re crying out.

The pleasure ignites, ripping through you as you come. As your thighs press around his ears, though he does not slow. Fucking you through it with his fingers, soft growls that buzz against your clit with each press of his tongue.

Leaving you breathless, boneless.

His mouth soft as kisses are pressed to your thighs, as you come back to yourself. It feels like you’re glowing, a soft haze settling over your limbs, down to the curl of your toes.

A broad hand smears your slick across his jaw, as he pushes himself up to kneel between your thighs. Where his cock strains against the leather of his leggings, tenting the soft fabric.

You ache to make him feel as good you feel. Something primal roars in your belly, as you follow him. Hands pressing against his chest, the flicker of shock turning warm as he lets himself be eased back.

Until it’s your thighs straddling his, moving up until your slick cunt is pressing against that heavy curve. His lips parting with a soft pant as you lean over him, your head dipping to kiss him.

He tastes like you, the sweet tang of your orgasm. Another shudder of pleasure coursing through you at the thought - as his hands find your hips, coaxing you to rock yourself against him.

Back home, you don’t know if you would have had the courage to climb this mountain of a man. But the images that flicker through your mind - the ones of him beneath you - are too strong, tugging at you. Beckoning your limbs to follow.

“I want to-,” You’re mumbling, between kisses, “Will you let me?”

“Follow your urges, my heart. Wherever they lead you, I am here.” His words sound strained, his hips flexing up, against you. More than content to be your guide, or to let you explore at your pace.

Your fingers drop to tug at his belt, with his consent. His hands coming to cover yours, lifting you with the rise of his hips. Freeing himself, his clothes joining yours on the forest floor.

It’s only here that you pause, as your thighs stretch across his waist. Where it becomes evident just how proportional he is - his cock full and flushed and heavy, curving up towards his stomach.

Unable to help touching him, his eyes fixed on the slight frown and then panic that flits across your features. A low rumble as your hand fits around him, your fingertips unable to touch.

“You-” You stammer, suddenly unsure, “Halsin, I don't know if I can-”

His eyes darken at your insinuation, his teeth flashing with his smile. Fingers curl around his base, tilting himself up. Pressing himself against your belly, the tip smearing a wet spot on your skin.

Measuring. Your grip tightens and he groans, his hips flexing into your touch.

His voice ragged, rough in the night air, “You can take me. Know you can, my love.”

You can’t pretend you’re not eager to try. Hands pressing against his chest, eyes flicking between his face and his cock, as you lift yourself up.

One leaving to hold him steady, taking a second to feel him slide against you. Muffling a sigh when he bumps against your clit, slicking him up with your release. Before you line him up, and start to sink down.

He splits you open. The pinch of his fingers against your hips hurts, as he tries to resist thrusting up into you. Even with your orgasm, your cunt slick with pleasure, he still stretches you wide.

Taking an inch, and then another. A tremble in your thighs as your knees press into the earth, a strangled whine as you make room for him.

His murmured encouragement catches in his chest, the moon and spring calling to him - only his experience keeping him from taking matters into his own hands.

A strong jaw ticking as you sink onto him, achingly slow - until your hips finally lie flush. Your hand flying to your belly, as if you could feel where he fits inside you.

His gaze is heavy, reverent. The press of fingertips against your skin as his grip eases, lips parting as you carefully begin to lift up - to rock back down.

The sensation flickers through you like faerie fire, the slow and sweet drag of him. Making you feel impossibly full, your head dipping down to hang between your shoulders. Hands curling into the hair covering his chest, as you figure out how to move.

It’s impossible to describe. A desire like you’ve never known bites at you, curling in your belly. You think perhaps you understand now - this need to bring forth the Spring and celebrate its arrival. It’s been something inside of you this whole time, waiting for guidance.

You have it, now.

“I-I did not think there was anything that could rival your touch,” Your words some out shaky - your thighs already twinging with the effort of moving. The steady rise and fall of your hips, the hitch in your breath when he sits flush within you, “I am happy to be wrong.”

The corner of his lip lifts in a snarl, but it’s one of pleasure. Just as gone as you are, with the drag of his eyes from your face, down to where you bounce on his cock. The thick peek of him each time your rise, shining with your slick.

It’s enough that his hands slip lower. Fingers slipping to rub at you again, each time you sink down.

“Use me, then.” He rasps, “Come on, sweet one. Take your pleasure.”

Your heart races, breath caught in your throat at his words, his touch. The slow pace increasing, as you try to do what he says.

Instincts flooding wisdom, drowning it out - tilting your hips until your thighs tremble, as he knocks against a sweet spot inside you.

Again, and then again. His eyes are fixed on you now, and the look he gives makes you clench - coveting his attention. Wanting him to only look at you, tonight.

To sear the feeling of you into his memory, as he has done to you. You think there is nothing that could make you forget tonight.

To forget this swirl of magic, as if you’re tethered to the ground, the sky, him - all at once. Utterly free at the same time, your body moving on its own without inhibition, encouraged by the sound of his moans.

The clench of teeth - the heavy press of hips that have begun to snap upward, no longer able to hold back.

“Oh gods-” You keen. Once, and then again - a grinding circle of your hips against his fingers, as that feeling inside you threatens to burst again.

Halsin chases the rock of your hips now with his own, with his fingers. His laugh rough, caught between his teeth.

“The gods may be listening, little one. But only I will answer.”

It makes you shudder, makes you beg.

“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.”

His fingers stay true. Pressing just a little harder, a jostle of his thighs as his feet plant against the ground. Fucking up into you now, as your pace falters. Too focused on the rushing white noise in your ears, the feeling that’s so big that it feels like you’ll choke on it.

“Let me feel you.” The words are muted, miles away. Digging into your skin to weave around your ribs, “Sweet one, come on-”

Your cry rips from your lungs, as you tip over the edge. He’s there to catch you, the steady pound of his hips as your own legs fail you. Fingers sweeping as the pulse of your cunt matches the heartbeat in your ears, clenching around him as you find your release.

Pushing himself up to meet you, as your arms wrap around him. Letting you chase the last waves of pleasure with the grind of your hips, your mouth panting into his neck.

A sweet sweat beading at the nape of your neck, across your skin. Your head turns just enough to meet his, his hand coming up to curl around the back of your neck.

To hold you to him, hovering over him, as he buries himself in you again. Again and again, until he is panting as you steal kisses. Tasting where you still linger in his tongue, another melding of your spirits.

“How do you want me?” His eyes are bright, hands slipping down to cup your ass, to help you ride him, “My heart, I fear I won’t last-”

You had made a pretty coin, brewing herbs and potions. Enough that you could do it in your sleep, your talents extending to camp. Teas of protection brewed openly and without shame.

The need for him to spill in you floods your senses, your own breath ragged at the thought.

“In me, my bear.” You beg, leaning back - the snap of your own hips sharp and loud, “I need you in me.”

The groan he makes is laced with relief. The feeling coursing through him as well - an innate need to spill himself into your cunt. To rut himself into you, until you’ve taken every drop.

Your name is ragged on his lips, as his thrusts turn shallow. As you take over, riding him until his hands grasp at your waist, as he goes stiff beneath you.

He throbs, a warmth flooding deep inside you. A pretty sight, his strong back arching into you - lips parted, hair streaming loose amongst the wildflowers. A snap of teeth as he grinds against you until you drip with him, too full of his cock to keep everything inside.

Fully joined, beneath the moonlight.

Afterwards, you melt against him. A hand smooths down your back as your fingers wander. Across the fur of his bare chest, the curve of his lip. The swirls of scarred and tattooed skin - your lips following.

He’s beautiful beneath you. Eyes content and half-lidded as an arm tucks beneath his head. A little inhale of breath - his broad chest rising as your lips move to his neck.

If you were Volo you think that, perhaps, you’d write a song about this. But that would mean that you would not be with him now, and the thought all but fills you with agony.

That hand on your waist tightening as you push the thought away - stretching up to reach the curve of his ear, a groan as your tongue traces the point.

It moves you against him. His cock slipping part-way out, only to sink deep again with your exploration.

He’s still hard, achingly so. You’re more sure whether it is a blessing of Silvanus or just him - this being so perfectly crafted in nature’s image.

Your teasing winds him up, even as his release leaks from you, shining against your thighs. A groan buzzes against your lips, where they still press against his throat.

A shifting beneath you, a pointed lift of his hips that nudges him against that sensitive place inside you.

“Let me take you, once more,” He husks, his face tipping up to yours. Knuckles brushing your cheek, tender in spite of the fire burning in his eyes, “Like the Oak Father intended.”

Desire still burns in you. An ache at the thought of having him another time, enough that you’re pushing yourself up to straddle him.

Nodding, your begging “please” making him smile, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. His eyes raking over your body, bathed in the glow of moonlight. Where he’s still buried deep, kept warm by you.

Before he’s moving. Hands gripping at your waist - a soft whine when he lifts you off him. His cock flushed and shining where it rests against his belly, as he rolls you beneath him.

“Hands and knees, my love.”

You’re eager to do so. The grass soft against your palms as your knees press into the ground. Arching your back - feeling the weight of his gaze as his thighs brush against yours.

The curve of his cock pressing against you, as he squeezes the flesh of your ass. His touch reverent and hungry, grinding himself against your core as he groans.

“If I could keep but one image in my mind, it would be this one.”

You moan at his praise, rocking back to meet his press of his hips. His hand dropping to wrap around his slick cock, notching it at your entrance.

Holding himself there as his chest presses against your back - warm, as his other arm wraps around your middle. It does something to you. The position, the feel of him overwhelming you.

“Halsin-” You pant, each second ticking by feeding into your desperation, “Why do you wait?”

“My impatient little she-bear,” He laughs, but the sound is strained with you beneath him, “Do not fear, I will give you what you want.”

And he does, the thick tip of him parting you. Sinking deep with a rough thrust of his hip, making you cry out as he fills you.

You had thought he was big before, when you rode him. But you had been in control - taking him at your own pace. Bouncing at your leisure, aided by the span of your hands against his muscular chest for balance.

Now, it feels like he’s in your throat, as he seats himself completely. As you make room for him, gripping him so tightly he chokes on a breath, fingers biting into your skin.

Yours wrap around his wrist, braced against the grass for balance. Nails biting into skin as he noses at your neck, his breath warm where it ghosts against your skin.

A kiss pressed there, so tender that you feel yourself relaxing. Rocking your hips back, whimpering at the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.

“Take me,” You beg, wanting more, “Feels so good, I want you-”

He groans, and you can feel him throb inside you. There’s the sharp snap of his hips, starting shallow. Sliding out further each time, until pleasure is crackling against your skin.

The little clearing filled with the sounds of your joining. Panting breaths and the slick sound of you taking him. Fucking his own cum deeper into you, lewd with the way you cry out when his cock grinds against that spot. When the heft of his balls kiss your clit again and again, heavy with his arousal.

It feels right. Halsin’s body pressed against your back, bending you until your chest is flattened against the grass. Fingers finding purchase in the strands and flowers, giving you something to hold onto as his thighs crash against yours.

Each deep thrust pushed your breath from you with a soft whine, leaving you panting.

Trapped beneath him, until all you can do is take it.

Squirming against the cage of his chest and arms.

Fuck me. Take me. Fill me-

It comes from deep inside you. The want to be filled. An ache at knowing he’s already spent himself, that each thrust brings him closer to a second.

You must say the words out loud because he makes a noise that sounds wounded. A stutter of his hips, his words a jagged rasp, “Let go, my love. I've got you.”

So, you do. Releasing your hold on that last ounce of control. Leaving yourself in his hands, letting your sounds and cries flow freely. Embracing the mounting pleasure as it swirls through you.

You babble - half-formed words as he holds you against him. Shifting when he hears you sob, rutting himself against the spot that sends you up to the stars above. The broken “oh, oh, oh’s-” bleeding into “Gods, Halsin-”

His teeth press against your neck, pinching against your skin, “Give yourself to me.”

The arm curve around your waist moves. Fingers carefully wrap around your hair until it’s fisted in his grip. Pinning you further as he pants in your ear, soft grunts and growls that sound like music in the night air.

Not stopping until you’re shuddering beneath him. Until he feels the tight pulse of your cunt, his own release not far behind. As sweet as the taste of you, as your muscles jump under his touch, as you arch and claw at the grass below you.

It’s bliss. It feels like you’re channeling the forest itself. Feeding off the pleasure that radiates from him. The new beginning of the season, the pull of the moon above.

The Gods are pleased, you think dizzily, they must be, for I have never felt like this.

The slap of his hips is louder, as you soak him. An overwhelming instinct to claim you, as his teeth sink into the curve between neck and shoulder.

Holding you still against him as he growls. Eyes flashing gold as you cry out again - pleasure and pain melding as your orgasm flares out, beginning to ebb in sweet bursts. As the sensation drags him along to find his own end.

Spilling into you a second time with a shout. His hips moving on their own, shallow thrusts with each pulse of his cock. Your head twisting to meet his mouth, a press of teeth and tongue as you swallow his groans.

Until his strength is all but sapped from him.

Until he is more man that beast again, those eyes soft and green again - a field of clover on a bright spring day.

It’s an easy thing, to take you with him to the forest floor. To curl around you - blocking your smaller form from the midnight chill that’s begun to creep in.

Warm and strong - an arm wrapping around your hip, a large hand splaying across your belly. As if those thoughts still lingered.

Still pressed inside you, keeping you filled with him. You think you’d be content to stay like this all night. Longer, if there was not more work to be done, tomorrow. More paths to be taken.

It’s not long though, before you find yourself shifting. Dozing in his grip, a sleepy rock of your hips in an effort to feel him move in you again.

“Oak Father, preserve me.” Halsin stirs behind you, as he huffs into your hair, “Insatiable little thing. And to think I worried about you lasting through the solstice.”

Your teeth bite into your lip as you grin, as his arms wrap more tightly around you.

“I should have been concerned about myself. This old bear needs rest, little one.”

But even with his low rumbling, his hand drifts. The pad of a finger brushing against your clit, sending another shot of pleasure coursing through you.

Your thighs part, a knee bending to give him access. Another soft whine as his circles against skin that is slick with his release, as his hips slowly match the lazy rhythm.

“Do not worry, my love. I will not leave you wanting.” He rasps.

“And there are many left hours until dawn.”

omg I started playing recently and I am so in love with this game. this was so much fun, I hope you enjoyed! I love Druids so much (and am playing one) and thought they for sure would have a 👀festival👀 of some kind and wanted to explore that in the context of like, act ii/iii (I am still playing so please let me know if I got any lore wrong!!)

Teuivae – ‘Moonlight’

(tags: @samspenandsword, @amywritesthings)

#halsin x reader #halsin x you #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #bg3 x reader

1K notes · View notes

hellvcifer · 25 days

Text

ANGEL SUPPORT SERVICES—

pairing; lucifer x fem!angel!reader (?), slight adam x fem!angel!reader (?) i don't know yet. still developing ideas atp wc; 2.9k note; yeah i really don't know where this story will go but it's been stuck in my head for a bit. hope you enjoy!! and let me know who the pairing should be bcs i can't decide lol !!

“Hello!” Charlie peeked around the door, eyes glancing side-to-side as she took in the decor. Various whites and golds fancily accentuated the interior of the Embassy. She walked in further, noting the long pathway, surrounded by empty seating, all leading up to a desk in the distance. “Hello?” Her soft voice echoed with the sound of her footsteps. “Helloo~o…? Cre~epy…” Her face scrunched, shoulders curling in as she got closer to the lone desk.

She approached, not knowing what else to do. This being her first time at the Heaven Embassy and all. A solid gold bell was centered on the white porcelain, embellished with fanciful design and begging someone to ring it. Charlie stared at it for a moment before her hand slapped the top of it. The emitted chime was soft and held out the delightful sound.

A bright flash of light emitted from behind the desk, swirls of golden flowers and sparkling light appearing and growing bigger before revealing a figure wrapped in a mass of feathers. They shuffled a bit and spread out widely to reveal the back of the owner.

“Oh!” You turned around, eyes widening upon seeing the guest. “Welcome to the Heaven Embassy!” You smiled brightly, arms held out to gesture to the place. “I'm with Angel Support Services, you can call me Y/N, how can I help you?”

“Oh, uh Hi! I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar.” The girl returned your energy, eyes attentive. “So nice to meet you! I’m here for a meeting with, uh, Heaven.” She explained.

“Right!” Your eyes scanned her quickly, “I heard they were sending someone… new.” You giggled.

“Yes! I’m here filling in for my father, of course, I’m sure you know that but I really wanted to present my new idea about rehabbing sinners and the–”

“Rehabbing sinners?” Your eyes widened, lips curling in. Hand covered your mouth.

“I know right! Just the best solution to our problem! It may sound a little crazy but I’ve compiled an entire speech–”

“That is… A great idea.” You interrupted her, swallowing down your laughter. Oh, he is gonna eat her alive. “I’m sure they would love to hear it.” Your hands flourished in the air and a pen appeared in one while a scroll in the other. The glow on them shined as you set the paper in front of the girl. “Please sign in here.”

“Oh, Okay!” She grabbed the pen, “I'm super happy to be here! It’s so nice to meet with such friendly people from Heaven considering the ex–Oh!” As soon as she finished signing, the items disappeared and shocked her.

“Of course, of course! We get that alot.” You continued your cheery tune as a door opened on your right. “Through there please.” You gestured in the said direction.

“Just, uh walk in then, huh?” Charlie asked.

You smirked with a nod, eyes sharpening though she seemed oblivious. “Good luck!” You waved with a twiddle of your fingers, watching her leave. “You’re gonna need it~” You spoke quietly, watching the doors shut behind her. You shook your head releasing a sigh.

Within the next hour you remained at the desk within the Embassy, awaiting the poor girl’s exit. No doubt going on and on about her silly little rehabilitation idea. Though her confidence was thick and made you admire that.

Once a year this happened, and it was the same every time. Answer the ring, pop on down, sign in whomever was visiting, and leave. Typically it had been Lucifer. But it seems that he’s sent his daughter to do it to avoid talking with you. Ever since, well… Last time, he just didn't want to see you. You huffed, sad that you wouldn’t get the chance to talk out the incident. Not that you would even know what to say.

The doors opened, a flash of red was twirled out of it and you saw Charlie land on the floor. Papers scattered around her as she tried to stand. The unnerving guitar of Heaven’s representative rifted throughout the building. The girl stood and walked towards the closing doors.

“Um–Wait, didn’t you–” The last thing she saw was the devious smile of Adam before she was left in darkness. The last sliver of light snuffed out. “Awh, shit!” She slammed her fist against the heavy gold.

You rested your cheek against your hand, smirk ever prominent as you watched the whole thing play out. The girl was breathing heavily, head now leaning against the cold material. “Sooo, how’d it go?” Your voice was ever cheerful, dripping with a knowing cynicality.

Charlie groaned out in response as she began picking up the drawings she originally presented earlier.

“Yeah, that’s what most people say after meeting Adam.” You snickered. “Heaven’s finest first man, an absolute angel.” You stood straight. “Don’t take it to heart, he’s like that to everyone~” You sang out the final word as Charlie stood, her papers neatly stacked in her arms before they disappeared. She looked up at you, seeing how your expression oozed with intent.

“You knew he would react like that?” Her tone raised, questioning your actions.

“Oh honey,” Your brows dipped as a slight pout appeared on your lips. “It’s Adam. Everyone knows. He literally calls himself the original–”

“–Dickmaster,” You finished together. “Yeah, yeah.” Charlie added.

“See! Look at you catching on so quickly.” Your hands clasped together as you brought them to your chest.

Charlie groaned, taking a few steps forward. “Why wouldn’t you warn me before going in there?” She didn’t seem angry as she spoke, more shocked, more frustrated than ever. “I could have prepared better, or shifted my presentation, I just–Ugh!”

“The real question is: Why wouldn’t your father? He’s met with Adam plenty of times before.” Your words made her inhale sharply, eyes widening. “Eeouh~ Daddy issues? It's okay, we all have ‘em.” Your wings opened, flapping a few times and raising you off the floor to sit on your desk. “As much as I would love to help, Sweetie, I got more important things to deal with on the up-side, so if you don’t mind.” Your arm swung out, hand presenting the exit that was in line of sight.

Charlie huffed before walking towards the exit, hand reaching out for the handle. You smiled as she opened the door and waved at her. “Come again!”

As the resounding slam of the door echoed throughout the chamber, that was your cue to take your own leave. With a flash of light, you appeared back into the holy grounds of Heaven. The large golden gates in your view and a familiar face standing atop of the podium.

“Y/N! Welcome back! How was the day down below?”

“Hi Saint Peter!” You greeted him, walking down the golden path to the entrance. “Same as always, super boring!” You waved a hand, sticking your tongue out. “Anyways, I’m off to pick up the notes from the meeting. Have you seen Ella?”

“Oooh, yeah. Sera asked her to cover the greeting party for new souls today and asked me, to tell you, that you’ll have to retrieve the notes from today.” His face seemed like he was in pain as he explained what happened to you.

Your form all but deflated at the news. “Wonderful.” You groaned out the word, watching the golden gate open. You trudged through, smiling at the post angel and waving, “Thanks, Peter!” You tried to remain cheerful, wings outspread and lifted you into the air. He returned your wave and as you left, closed the gates.

With Ella gone, her duties now shifted to you as requested by Sera. Which meant you had to go deal with the First Dick. You rolled your eyes as you flew above buildings, weaving through the other residents of Heaven until you reached Headquarters.

The area was a combination of large buildings, all placed neatly in a secure area for higher ranking angels. They were decorated with the overdone gold accents and white porcelain walls. Seriously, how did they not come up with anything a bit more original. You landed on the ground and walked into one of the higher bestowed skyscrapers, being greeted by others as you did. It didn’t take long to navigate towards the elevator and pressing the button to bring you to the right level.

You wondered why you felt the need to complete these tasks so quickly. Perhaps to feel the relief of the day being over; the chore having been finished. Just so you can enjoy the happy days of Heaven ahead. The days of the Holy and gifted, where nothing can go wrong and everything is perfect. Not a single thing misplaced or misused. Just… Perfect.

Once you arrived, your steps chorused down the long hallway. At the very end was a giant door leading to the one you were hoping to avoid. Just before it on the left was a smaller office that you stopped in front of. You knocked twice and waited for an answer. It swung open to reveal none other than–

“Lute.” You greeted rather blandly.

“Y/N.” Her eyes were widened but she quickly bowed her head, hand raising to her chest as she did so. “To what do I owe the honor?”

You strutted into her office, eyes looking around though uninterested in anything you saw, “Ella’s out and I need the meeting notes for my report.” You quickly turned to her. “That shouldn’t be an issue, I presume?”

She straightened, “Of course not.” She walked over to her desk, picking up the pile of papers before handing them to you. You scanned them, noting the diction used and how well they were written. Obviously not Adam’s doing. You sighed though you didn’t care if he wrote them or not. “Should I notify Adam of your arrival?”

“No! No, no.” You began walking towards the door, stepping through the threshold. “That will not be necessary. In fact, don’t even mention I stopped by, mmkay? Good. Bye-bye!” You smiled though it never fully made its way to your eyes. Your pace was fast down the hallway as you reached the elevator. Luckily no one had called it and it was still on the level.

The doors opened immediately and you entered, turning around to hit the button for the lobby. You released a heavy breath and waited for the elevator to react. As the doors began to shut, the large office at the end of the hallway began to open.

A familiar figure stepped out, “Hey! Danger Tits! when’s that dorky chick with the–” he saw you in the small gap that remained open. His body froze, mouth opened as his thoughts halted. He watched as the panels came closer together, his lips moving to utter the only thing he could process. “Y/N?”

The doors shut as you gulped. You exhaled heavily, feeling your body release any tension you had from seeing him. What a nightmare that would have been to deal with. You’ve avoided him as much as possible within the last year. Though with both of your positions, it was inevitable you run into each other from time-to-time. Quick exits and excuses were second nature to you now.

This moment for instance, you made your escape from the building and ventured over to the main one; having passed by other coworkers and fellow angels along the way. One of the final people on your list to see was Sera to hand over your report and the notes.

This wasn’t your ordinary day in Heaven but it was certainly the busiest out of the year. Heaven had a meeting with Hell once a year to discuss any necessary things and then it was left in the wind until the next one. It wasn’t your favorite thing to be in charge of, but then again you were rewarded nicely for it. Not to mention, it was recently adjusted that there will be meetings held twice a year now. Something about boosting morale with those below.

Considering how close the buildings were, it was fairly easy to make your way to Sera’s office. You knocked and heard a soft “Come in.” You opened the door and saw her having a cup of tea with Emily sitting next to her. The younger Seraphim grinned widely at the sight of you.

“Oh my goodness, Y/N!” She jumped from her seat and glided over to you. “How was your day? Did you have fun visiting Hell? Did you meet anyone? Please, tell me all about it!” Her joyous attitude reminded you of the new representative put forth for Hell. Charlie.

You gently laughed as she pulled you forward. “Alright, that’s enough, Emily.” Sera called out with a calming voice, pieced with a smile and causing the girl to release her grip.

She nervously chuckled, “Sorry~”

“Welcome, Y/N.” She glanced down at the papers in your hand. “I assume that is the report from today’s meeting?”

“As requested.” You held them up and they gently floated towards Sera before laying in her hands and disappearing into thin air.

“Your work today is appreciated.” She bowed her head towards you. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble visiting them. Please join us.” She gestured to an empty chair at the table.

“Not at all.” You sat, and Emily rejoined the two of you. “In fact, it was mildly entertaining this time around.”

“Oh! How exciting!” Em interjected, eyes awaiting for more information.

“As you know, Hell put forth a new representative this year.” You took a sip of the freshly poured cup of tea in front of you as you explained. “She was going on and on about rehabilitating sinners as a solution to the population problem they’re having.”

They both nearly spat out their drinks, each with an opposite expression. “That’s a great idea!” “That’s a horrible idea.” You chuckled at their different responses, spoken at once.

“But why not!” Em spoke up, “It could bring an end to the issue we’ve been dealing with for so long! Not to mention, it could bring us closer to those down in Hell–”

“Sinner Rehabilitation has no evidence of working.” Sera was quick to say, “If it were even possible, we would know about it. We must not question divine judgment.”

“But Sera–”

“That’s enough.” Her tone was stern, ending the conversation.

You took another sip of your drink, sighing into the tense air, “I guess it’s better than the extermination.” You hummed absentmindedly.

“What?” Sera was shocked at the mention of the word, her voice coming out sharply as she stared at you with wide eyes.

You turned to her. “You know,” Your hand twirled in the air as you explained. “The proposal that Adam gave forever ago but it was denied at the high council meeting.” You casually mentioned.

“I don’t remember that.” Em’s finger found her chin as she tilted her head.

You smiled. “Waay~ before your time. It was shot down before there could even be a discussion about it.” You answered. “Anyways, I’ve gotta fly. Meeting~” You explained bluntly and rose from your seat, turning to leave. “It was nice seeing you two!”

“Y/N.” Sera called out, causing you to stop and swivel your head. “Uh,” She glanced down at Emily. “A word, before you go.” She followed you out of her office, signaling the younger to stay behind. Once the door was shut, she cleared her throat.

“About the proposal,” She spoke quietly, calm eyes masking her shakiness. “That won’t be brought up to…” She eluded without saying.

You laughed, dismissing her worries with a flap of your hand. “Don’t worry. Rehabilitating sinners? Like they would be on board with that, am I right?”

Sera tried to join in, though she cleared her throat, “And… about the other one.”

“Other one?” You questioned before realizing. “Oh~ The extermination?” You scoffed. “Yeah, no. It was relayed a long time ago when it was initially discussed. No use in bringing up the past. It was declined for a reason.” You squinted at her. “Unless there’s something I should know about…”

“No! No, of course not.” She held a hand up, closing her eyes with a soft smile. “I just wanted to make sure all things are transparent between us and them.”

You instantly shifted, grinning at her answer. “Great! See you around.” You walked off though an uneasy feeling remained within your stomach.

Quickly, you made your way over to your own office, popping through the door and shutting it. Now, you waited. It was bound to happen soon, it always did after a meeting at the Embassy occurred.

You were chosen, hand picked as they admitted. And though the honor was bestowed upon you in all its glory, the burden you felt took its toll on you. As much as you felt gifted for being picked, there was no relief to the loneliness you felt in your position.

The gold necklace you wore began to glow, humming loudly as the light grew brighter by the second. It was starting. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. A flash of white encapsulated you and you appeared into a familiar office.

A desk was placed some feet in front of you, the luxurious chair turned away from you. All you could see were the crossed legs of a sat figure, long and dainty, angled just slightly to the right. Cladded in white dress pants, he stared out the giant window that silhouette him.

“Long time, no see…” He leaned forward, blonde hair peeking past the backrest of his chair. “Y/N.”

likes and reblogs appreciated ♡

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin hotel insert #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #angel support services

766 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 9 months

Text

Chemical Reactions (P. 2)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 1,867

Note: The fic is spoiler free and fantasy.

Later that day…

In the lavatory, you inspected your appearance for a moment. You were wearing an embroidered peasant blouse paired with a plain cardigan, a dark coloured skirt and a set of comfortable shoes. Your hair was pulled back in a random clip which, for the meeting with Dr Oppenheimer, you decided to remove. You looked much better with your hair being open and, just as you looked at yourself again, you felt a pang of anxiety, wondering what Dr Oppenheimer was truly thinking of you.

Did he think that you were smart and worthy his attention or did he simply took pity in you because you were a woman?

You then scrunched your eyebrows after a second of thought and adjusted your bag on your shoulder to prepare to face the beast.

For some reason, this man intimidated you and that also, somewhat, aroused you which was a combination of feelings that you never felt before.

Thus, almost hesitantly, you arrived at the lecture room at around 5 o’clock, which was almost thirty minutes after your last class for the day had finished and, when you walked into the somewhat dingy room, you saw him, standing there, looking at am array of calculations.

"You are late” Dr Oppenheimer then remarked without even looking at you at first before, finally, turning around.

"You didn't actually give me a time..." you began to say as you walked towards him and watched him furrow his eyebrows.

“No, I suppose I didn’t” Dr Oppenheimer acknowledged before turning the chalkboard over so that you could not see his writing and calculations at all.

“Have you figured the problem with your calculation yet?” you asked almost bluntly as, awkwardly, you stood in front of him. Your lab coat was draped over your left forearm while your right hand held your bag's strap to your shoulder.

You kept your eyes forward, directly in line with where his neck met his chest before looking up into his deep blue eyes which, by this point, were full of questions.

“Who says that there is a problem with my calculations?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked almost out of the blue and a short moment passed before he took your coat and bag from your hands, laying them on the nearest table.

“I think that you took a wrong turn somewhere and…” you began to stammer just before released the nervous breath which you did not realise you were holding until he began to speak again.

“Sit, please” he gestured and, just after you complied with his request and sat down in front of his large wooden desk, you could feel Dr Oppenheimer’s presence next to you.

“Do you have a pen and some paper?” you asked and, of course, he did.

“Of course” Dr Oppenheimer said as he placed two white pieces of paper and a freshly sharpened pencil in front of you.

“Now, please show me your calculations” he then said while he stepped back but, even though he decided to give him some space, you could see him out of the corner of your eye, watching you as you worked.

You wrote down formula after formula, directly from your head and whilst this was nothing but theory, you imagined every single reaction in the back of your mind.

You were fast and Dr Oppenheimer’s mouth hung open as he watched you work, focusing intently to be sure that it all made sense until, suddenly, your mind went blank. The proximity was making you hot and you felt yourself burning up under your blouse.

“That’s it?” Dr Oppenheimer thus asked and you shook your head.

“I just lost my train of thought, again…” you said, sounding like an idiot, causing the professor to chuckle.

“Am I making you nervous?” he then asked and, as if you had not already embarrassed yourself enough, you nodded somewhat dumbfounded.

“Right. My apologies. I will just take a seat next to you” he then said before pulling another chair to the table and sitting down right next to you which did not make this situation any better whatsoever.

Of course, he was no longer towering over you, but he was now much closer to you than he was before, acting and behaving almost like an equal.

“Go on then” he said, wanting to resume your work while the heat of his body began to burn you. You squirmed uncomfortably on your stool until you had to put the pen down to take off your cardigan which, by this point, was still partially covering your blouse.

"What is it?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked somewhat concerned but you shook it off.

"Nothing, I am just hot" you said plainly before taking in a deep breath and resuming your calculations which is also when Dr Oppenheimer became more interested in again and decided that he needed a better view.

You were now getting to the point of where you assumed he made a mistake and he was intrigued by the route you were taking in your formula.

“Explain it to me” he demanded, wanting to know why you are calculating the chemical reaction in the way you were and you had no problem telling him, in scientific terms, as to how you arrived at your conclusions.

As such, you talked and talked while squirming around until, eventually, you got back into position and wrote down another formula, which was one Dr Oppenheimer had not considered before and, just as you placed pen on paper again, you felt something touch your neck. Not soft enough to be hair brushing your neck, but not enough pressure to feel entirely deliberate.

“You aren’t even looking?” you then said as you otherwise stayed completely still when felt Dr Oppenheimer adjust your twisted necklace.

“Because you did it wrong” he responded as he picked up the chain and turned the jewellery until the clasp is on the back, where he dropped it back onto the nape of your neck. If you did not know better, you would have thought you felt his fingertips linger a little longer on your skin than they should have lingered there, but you could not be too sure.

“I did? How?” you asked while thinking about the science as well as how his fingertips felt on you, raising goosebumps on your bare skin. Him moving your necklace would have been harmless and platonic if it was not for that hesitation at the end of the action. The half a second too long that his hand remained on you, brushing lightly at the skin on the side of your neck.

“Allow me” the professor then said before taring up one of your pages and giving a plain piece of paper to write on.

He then took the pen from your hand and wrote down what you had written until you took this wrong turn in your calculations, which is where he halted and prompted you to think.

“Think about implosion, not explosion” he said and, almost immediately, the penny dropped and you gently grabbed the end of the pencil he was holding while making sure to let one finger feather a touch onto one of his.

"May I?" you say quietly, feeling his eyes on the side of your face as you looked at the pencil. The whole exchange only lasted a couple of seconds before he released the utensil and you leaned down over the paper while letting your shoulder brush his.

"Is that right now?" you then asked innocently after finishing the formula, turning to look at him as you gauged his reaction. This was the first time you had really looked at him since he first started explaining where you went wrong, and you were not sure what you expected, but it was not this.

Dr Oppenheimer only had his left hand resting on the table now, his chest turned towards you as he searched your face and smiled. You smiled back and held his gaze, trying to think of something to break the moment while keeping the upper hand.

“I am impressed but…” he then began to say and, instead of saying anything to him in response, you remembered the pencil you were holding and quickly moved to hold it between you and him. Without looking at it, he reached forward and covered your hand with his, those blue eyes on the verge of pouring into you. He then slid the pencil out of your hand and leaned down one more time, changing one of your subtraction signs to an addition. In your mind, you honed in on the mistake, cursing his distraction for causing you to make a mistake in front of him.

"Now, you're perfect" Dr Oppenheimer then said nonchalantly as he stood back up.

“Hmm” you stammered while trying not to react to his comment, or the fact that he used your own tactics against you.

Considering the moment gone, you picked up the paper and retreated in order to quickly get out of there as you could not help but think that you made things almost awkward now. Not only did you have more questions now than you did previously, you feared you may have moved you both in a direction that bordered on inappropriateness.

Obviously, you were flirting with him and he was a married man in respect of whom you got no read on when it came to his intentions towards you, because you were so consumed by the moment. You were consumed to his body's reaction to yours, his eyes, his parting comment, saying that “now you’re perfect”…

You then recalled the moments when you feared that your cover was blown, that he caught on to what you were doing, namely flirting with him. Part of you hoped that he thought he was flattering himself, similar to how you have been feeling, but something about this man told you he scarcely denied his ego satisfaction.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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@cyphah (cannot tag)

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer #Oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n

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meyousing · 4 months

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐀 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re used to light being distant, so when he decides to lay the affection on heavy and proposes a new idea to you at the same time, you’re helplessly intrigued. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: nsfw, yandere light yagami x reader, idk if this matters to say right off the bat but you’re wearing a skirt :] also mentions of death like always lol but none fr! alsoalso this idea has probably been done to death by now but to be fair I started this A YEAR AGO!! pls enjoy despite that lol ily <3

“What is it?” his eyes sharpened as they narrowed at you from across the room, voice laced with blatant boredom. That was what you told yourself anyway, truly hoping that it was boredom and not annoyance because the look he always gave you at times like this made you cave in on yourself, instantly regretting whatever you had done to be such a bother. All that you were doing now was laying idly on his bed, legs swinging out of habit as you were on your stomach and flipping through a magazine that he had given as a pacifier. Maybe he knew that you were actually keeping your eyes on him this entire time, rather than the sheets before you.

“What do you mean?” playing dumb never worked with Light, but you would always do it anyway. It could provide a delay of the inevitable if nothing else.

You heard the tap of his pen as he dropped it on his desk, followed by the soft thud of his notebook closing before he stood from his chair. A regular notebook, you noticed, thankfully.

“Trying to outsmart me again?”

Right, his interpretation of your playing dumb was much less simple than what you intended to get across. Of course, he knew that you knew better, so your deception was instead seen as defiance; a flaunt of superiority.

“Of course not,” you shut your magazine, sliding it to the side of the bed and cringing when it slid off of the bed, crumpling up in an ironically tense pile on the floor. Surely Light wasn’t too attached to it, as he merely spared it a passing glance before casting his eyes upon you once more. Then he began to approach, making you swallow a newfound lump in your throat as you scampered back to sit up on your haunches.

“Then what is it?” he leaned over you, his hands resting at your sides with your faces inches apart. His breath was slow through his nose, soft and cold as each exhale blew onto the tip of your nose.

How to tell him that the stupid magazine didn’t pacify you at all, that only his attention could soothe you? And how embarrassing it could get if you admitted to the exact type of attention that you needed.

He began leaning closer as your mind raced, thinking of a different possible answer, but then it went entirely blank as he was close enough to brush his lips over yours. Tantalizingly, the gentlest nudge and he only did it once before pulling back slightly, you could have missed it had your brain continued thinking so hard. The sensation nearly made you crumble, a chill shooting down your spine as you inhaled and resisted the urge to wet your now trembling lips, focusing on maintaining your posture. He knew how to break you, you didn’t want him to see it happen this soon.

“Nothing” was all you could say without simply blabbering out every dirty thought plaguing your mind.

“You never stare at me like that for nothing,” he said pointedly, even adding a cheeky but very slight tilt of his head. Had your stare really been so obvious? You truly did try to be subtle. Either way, you found it humorous how he could go from cold with seemingly deadened emotions to a teaser within minutes. Finding it humorous helped you cope with how scary you knew he could be.

With the lightest shove to his chest you could muster alongside a bashful turn of your head, you tried creating some space between yourselves to alleviate the fast beating of your heart.

“Really, it’s nothing. I didn’t mean to distract you from your work…” Your hand lingered on his chest after the little push, kneading the material of his shirt idly as you hoped this excuse would suffice. This mannerism alone proved the opposite of your hopes to him.

When the full press of his lips fell upon yours in a genuine kiss this time, you knew that you had failed. Even more so when you subconsciously deepened it with a lean closer, making your grip on his shirt firmer to keep him from moving away. Though it seemed he had no intention of doing so, instead easing you down to lay your back against his mattress, crawling over you as soon as you were horizontal.

This kiss, unlike all of his others which would be quick and half-assed–your lips barely meeting before he was already turning his head away to tend to some other matter–was compassionate. One of his hands found the side of your face and he caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, his other fingers which became entangled in your hair from the placement were massaging your scalp soothingly. The sensation lulled you and had you sinking even deeper into his bed while pulling him along with you, your fingertips meeting at the back of his neck and fiddling with the ends of his hair. While this kiss was unusual, it was not unwelcome.

You didn’t know that there would be a catch to this sudden affection.

You could feel Light smirking against you, his entire aura darkening once he did, so much that you could feel it–and your reaction to such a peculiarity was communicated with a tensing of your shoulders. Upon sensing this, Light was quick to groan and prod his tongue against your bottom lip, which surprised you further and allowed him to invade your mouth. The intimate sound he let out and the way he just seemed so infatuated with you right now had your heart racing.

This moment ended almost as quickly as it started though, he pulled away from you and nudged his nose against yours. You tried not to show your disappointment, but you knew that it must have been obvious when a frown graced your lips.

“I want to try something.”

This could go in any direction. He was always so unpredictable, mood changing on a dime whether it was for better or worse.

“What’s that?” you asked with a small voice, indicative of your anxiety about the unknown. You were already playing right into his hands.

“I want to reward you for being so obedient.”

A reward? Who is this and what has he done with your Light?!

His hand on your cheek rubbed it once more before he lifted himself off of you, steadying himself with hands on your waist as he did. You remained in your place, only watching with your eyes as he leaned over to reach into his desk and a drawer.

The drawer.

You turned your head with a gulp as you watched him retrieve his arm, now holding the dreaded notebook that you had tried to shield yourself from, trying to stay ignorant for the sake of keeping your relationship peaceful with the man you couldn’t help but love.

“So long as your obedience remains the same, you’ll be rewarded. We’re going to test it right now.”

He placed the book by your hand which had fallen to your side once he moved, putting his pen between your loose fingers and adjusting it until it stayed still there without tipping over. Your limbs had frozen, so it was no tough feat for him. You were shocked even further when Light’s expression altered somewhat once he actually took notice of how tense you were. Last you could remember, he couldn’t care less when your discomfort was so obvious.

“It really is going to be rewarding for you. Don’t you trust me?”

He always had to ask you that. How much more obvious could you be about your unequivocal devotion to him, your infinite trust? You’d been by his side all this time, yet he would still ask, nearly daily, most commonly before asking you to do something that you didn’t want to do. As if anyone else would remain with him when finding out his secret, and he still doubted you.

“You know I do.” You murmured, fingers twitching around the cold pen in your grasp.

“Then at least hear me out” he chuckled dryly, not with any sense of legitimate humour. You tried to be subtle as you swallowed the lump in your throat, having heard such an impatient laugh come from him countless times before.

“This won’t be going away any time soon,” he patted the notebook, “and I can tell that you won’t be either. I mean, as long as you keep following along with me, here.” He glimpsed at you differently then, as if his eyes were asking you to challenge that statement.

You only nodded. Light grinned.

“Good.”

His fingers moved to peel open the book, and you glanced away from it as he skimmed past so many pages that were filled from margin to margin with names. The crisp sounds of paper brushing together stopped once he found a blank one.

Your eyes stayed on him, and you could feel some burning bile churn and slosh around in your gut as a little smirk pulled at his lips. His eyes darkened when they met yours.

His free hand, which was out of your line of sight, traced the waistband of your skirt. You flinched slightly in surprise, and Light’s smirk widened as he leaned closer to you.

“Write your name.”

Despite being unmoving already, you froze even further, stiffening like a stone and watching him desperately, trying to detect any hint of jesting in his demand. But the wickedness surrounding Light was unrelenting; he meant what he said.

“What?” you asked quietly, needing to hear it again to really believe that he meant it.

“Start writing your name. Trust me, won’t you?”

“I-I do–”

“I know. So do it.” Light’s tone was more firm now.

You could only hold your breath when your eyes flitted over to your hand, your fingers readjusting the pen as you tried to point it toward the paper. The book itself felt alive, you could sense its unreal gaze–like it was taunting you, mocking and laughing at you, tempting you to write, and calling you a coward if you dared to show any hesitation because it shouldn’t be that hard.

Having been with Light for so long now, you fully understood the notebook’s functionality. Knowing that, would it really be so crazy if you were being a coward about this?

“Any time now, love” Light’s voice became impatient, and when you looked up at him, his kneeling posture was equivalent to being on the edge of his seat. He looked like he could implode had you made it this far and chose to back out now, he was so eager. You’d hate to disappoint him, even if his little pet name for you was clearly insincere.

Your body went cold and numb once you pushed the tip of the pen against the page, watching the smallest droplet of dark ink soak into the lines. Your hand remained stagnant following this, and you spared a short glance up at Light, noting how his eyes were stuck on the pen. You took in a breath, holding it and letting your lungs fill so you’d become a little lightheaded–a little less aware of this horrible reality–before moving further with utmost reluctance to drag the tool, lining the shape of the first letter in your name.

You could hear Light exhaling as you finally did. You couldn’t let out that breath of your own just yet. Maybe your cause of death would be suffocation, then.

Your focus was ripped away from the note in an instant once you felt a cold fingertip trace over your clit from above your panties, making your body jolt as you met eyes with Light. He wasn’t looking at you yet, only doing so once you stopped writing.

“Go on. I’m staying true to my word.” To emphasize this, he pressed down against your clit again, his push firm but gentle–leaving you on the cusp of craving more as the sensation gave you chills, yet also sent heat through your lower half.

So pathetically, that small second of pleasure was enough to incentivize a continuation, and you managed to finish printing that very first letter.

“Good…”

He resumed what he had been doing, gently circling your bud and using the advantage of that added layer from your panties to optimize the friction; encouraging you. You could feel the way that you were starting to get wet, soaking the material and only making such movements smoother for Light.

You paused as the feeling grew slightly more intense, coping, and your pause made Light do the same. You two were playing a little game, it seemed, and you obviously didn’t want it to stop–you had to keep going. You had wanted him minutes before this, after all, and you were finally getting what you craved.

Letter two manifested; your grip on the writing utensil weakened as he pulled your panties aside to touch your skin directly.

You shuddered from the sudden cool air that brushed along your exposed skin, and he dragged some of your slick up from your pussy, using it to make rubbing into your clit that much easier, that much more pleasurable. Your limbs shuddered and you had to breathe out a more vocal huff of air in exasperation, your lungs aching while your muscles tensed in delight from Light’s direct tending to such newfound sensitivity.

You remained paused with your eyes shut firmly as you became accustomed to the bliss that he inflicted. Light, seeming to understand exactly what he was doing to you, was a bit more forgiving now–continuing his ministrations even when you stopped, but not changing his pace or furthering the intensity enough for those feelings to grow, to bring you closer to any type of climax. It still made you moan though; still made your heart skip a beat and made your walls tighten around nothing.

Perhaps you had been successfully swindled into playing with fire because now your mind understood a simple formula; if you wanted more, you had to keep writing. Would he let you come if you wrote your entire name down?

Would you even feel the aftershocks of your release before you died?

The prospect of death hit your lust-fogged mind like a truck, and your eyes shot open–that slowly building knot in your abdomen became a tightrope clenching out of fear rather than anticipation. This was a death note, and you were already on track to penning yourself down within it.

Light could sense your change in stature and returned his gaze to your face once again. His hand slowed, but it was as if he could detect your worry and didn’t want to let you succumb to it–he wanted to keep you within the cusp of pleasure, to keep you malleable and submissive to his desires, not whatever lies your mind was telling you. So he kept touching you.

“You know that you can’t stop now that you’ve started, right?” He looked cocky, like he had you right where he wanted you. And it seemed that he did, because now with such confusion and so many conflicting feelings plaguing you, you weren’t sure about that–could you back out now? Was the damage already done now that your first name was almost down entirely?

Your drying lips parted as if to ask, but you couldn’t find your voice. Light let out a short, dry laugh and nodded his head, his face inches away from yours, like he fucking knew.

“Mhm. You have to keep going, now. You’d better hurry, too. You know that there’s a time limit… don’t you?”

Your lungs were burning and your hips squirmed as he traced his fingers around your core, swirling them within your copious wetness and gently prodding his fingers, hardly getting inside of you, yet you still writhed from the sensitivity of such a precise, close touch.

You shook your head deliriously in delayed response to his words and all Light did was nod his own head toward the book again. Suddenly you were reminded of the pen in your grasp which had now absorbed the growing heat from your palm; hot to the touch.

Noting that apparent time limit, you felt your heart thrumming as it raced and you started writing again. The pace of your fingers scraping the pen back and forth was a little quicker than before, yet you couldn’t shake that lingering hesitance even while knowing that you really should have been rushing. Light hummed as he watched, nonchalantly pushing a finger inside of you as you progressed, which made a whiny sound catch in your throat, and made your back lift slightly off the bed.

Your arm trembled and your chicken scratch ceased again, but Light knew that he had you, because you hurried to carry on with haste once more, and he didn’t bother to stop stroking inside of you anymore. He even slid in another finger following the last time he pulled out, the added thickness made your thighs attempt to close from the new nerve-tingling pleasure that it gave, even despite the way that his body between your legs kept you nice and open for him.

“Please,” you bartered, voice muffled and representative of the state you were in; wholly weak. He grinned and kept going, his body solid in its place on top of you, forcing you to take it even as his skilled fingers overwhelmed you so deliciously. You wanted the end result now–you wanted to come, to feel that sweet release by his hand.

Light initiated this entire thing, he set his rules, and you knew that finishing wouldn’t happen just like that, because it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Please what, Y/N? You already know what you have to do. Don’t play stupid.”

The little jab at the end hurt only a little bit, making your stomach drop, making you feel as stupid as he said–but his fingertips rubbed along and pressed into your sweet spot which made you whimper, and that feeling was all you could focus on now; remedying the sting of the insult with the soothing cradle of his fingers. Oh, how successfully he was able to distract you and change the path of your thoughts once again. You could hardly bring yourself to care about such blatant manipulation, because release was getting closer and closer, and that was all you wanted.

You couldn’t even tell if the pen was pressing into the paper hard enough to leave any writing behind at all; your hand was hardly moving because your eyes remained shut in elation, and you chose to squeeze the pen in your fist as you coped with his touch, but Light just seemed content with the fact that you were resuming any transfer of penmanship at all. He was certainly rewarding you as he promised, keeping his fingers inside of you until his knuckles pushed into the plush of your pussy lips, and they rocked into you so good that you could almost feel that hard pressure in your stomach.

It was starting to become too much–you knew how close you were getting, but you didn’t know if that’s what Light wanted. He liked to be in control of most things in his life, and you were at the very top of that list.

“I-I can’t, I’m gonna–”

A gasp-like mewl left you once you felt a hot, wet stroke against your clit at the same time that Light pushed rather hard against your g-spot, holding his fingers there and making you squirm. Your eyes shot open and you craned your neck off of the mattress to look down, watching as his lips closed around your clit and sucked it into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. Your entire body shuddered, it was so intense that you had to try and pull away, but he wasn’t having it, using his free hand to pin your hip down and keep you still.

“Light,” you whined, a warning to him that he was pleasing you too well too quickly, you were about to come and you were hardly finished with writing down your first name.

His eye contact only became bolder, he didn’t relent, if anything he was trying to get more out of you; intent on making you come now. He hadn’t instructed you otherwise, so you felt safe enough to finally give in–with a weak, raspy whimper you felt yourself release that buildup of desire, your vision turning into static behind closed lids as your body writhed and churned even while he kept you down, putting himself against you with more force. Your hips rocked into his mouth to ride out every last remnant of your orgasm until you felt no more, the only sound that you could hear was your own heavy breathing and Light’s last few caresses against your audibly sopping wet pussy.

Light moved off of you slowly, and you noted that his eyes were trained on the book rather than your body that now glistened with a light sheen of sweat. Before you could say anything to him (but even then, what could you say?), his eyes scanned over the page and your writing while he nonchalantly wiped your release off of his fingers, onto the material of your skirt.

You followed his line of sight and looked over your work, seeing how scribbled and disastrous it was. You had probably produced better writing back in kindergarten.

Now that your heat had finally been tended to, however; your arousal sated, you blinked a few times, then realized exactly what you were looking at: part of your name, written in the death note.

What about the time limit? Was your first name enough to make it work either way? Your heart began to race and so did your breathing–were these the side effects of the incoming, inevitable heart attack?!

I suppose the cause wasn’t suffocation after all, a fleeting voice said so sarcastically in the back of your head, making you grimace. You propped yourself up on your elbows in a panic and your eyes flew back to Light, who was still skimming over the page with a look of maintained scrutiny. He was so… calm. Were you not about to die? Did he not care?

“That’s a good start,” he murmured, reaching out to trace his index finger (the one that wasn’t just buried in you to the hilt) along the shaky lines that hardly resembled any of the alphabet.

“Wha–” You could only heave the word out since it felt like your heart was beating in your throat, though your body gradually relaxed as Light seemed completely neutral to the situation. The longer that he did nothing, the more time passed, and you realized that… you were still here.

When silence fell completely between both of you, Light looked over with such casualty that you felt like none of what just happened even did.

“If we can get to your last name next time, too, maybe I’ll actually fuck you.” He slid off the bed as he spoke, his tone so normal as if he was just talking to you about the weather, making your jaw drop. He grabbed the book and closed it, walking over to the drawer and taking his sweet time ensuring that it was properly put away.

All you could do was lay there in silent disbelief, watching him with wide eyes while he acted like nothing even happened.

“I’m fine, then?” you asked, your voice firmer and a little louder than normal, more demanding for direct answers. Light glanced over at you and laughed coldly, standing up straight once the drawer was closed once again, his hands on his hips lazily.

“I like that you’re a little dumb, Y/N. It makes things like this more exciting, don’t you think?”

Before you could respond verbally–only able to scoff for now–Light turned to leave the room, murmuring a nearly inaudible “I’ll get some water” before the door closed behind him. His muffled footsteps became more distant as he descended downstairs, isolating you to the top floor.

Helplessly flumping back against the bed, you stared at the ceiling, reliving everything that had just happened in a mental state that you imagined neurosis to feel like. Although, you didn’t have to worry for long… you would get used to it. You understood that this was not going to be the first time something like this would happen, Light was truly only getting started with you.

#✧meyou #✧musinghxhmasterlist #death note #light yagami #death note fanfiction #death note x reader #yagami light #light x reader #light yagami x reader #light yagami smut #light yagami x you #light yagami x y/n #death note x you #i hope this doesn't have any typos lmao i'm sorry if this comeback sux

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fluffylino · 5 months

Text

strawberries and cream with hyunjin🍓

-suggestive themes (its all very soft)

hyunjin hummed away, as he took a bite of the strawberry. you dipped one in the whipped sweet cream, relishing its sweetness.

"the strawberries are extra sweet this season" you shook your head, throwing him a side eye when he reached for the same one as you. before you could reach it, he gobbled it down whole.

"hyunjinnnn" he smiled, his teeth stained with a lightish pink juice.

it was a peaceful silence as he doodled away in his sketchbook. you too were writing down some stories in your diary.

the two bowls, one of strawberries and another of cream sat between the two of you. he was on one side of the couch and you on the other side, using the armrest to keep your book steady.

the sunlight peeked through the gap between the curtains, just enough to light up the room with a yellow haze.

"oh nooo" you let out, stuffing the berry in your mouth before anymore cream could fall on you.

you looked around for a handtowel on the table behind, freezing when you felt his breath on your neck. his warm breath was followed by an even warmer sensation.

he licked the cream off. making sure to run his tongue over the spot. giving you a soft smile he went back to what he was doing. you blinked multiple times, brain refusing to form sentences.

"it couldve fallen on the couch" he mumbled. he faced you, eyes focused on your lips. hesitantly you ran your sleeve over it.

"c'mere"

you scooted closer, carefully. he cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips on yours.

"you always make a mess"

you could feel your cheeks heat up, when he pulled away, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, which had cream all over it.

"you don't want me to write, do you" you commented, realising this was his way of asking for attention.

"and now, you don't want me to go back to sketching, do you?" he tilted his head in a cute way. a smile threatening to erupt.

of course you didn't want him to. in fact from the second he sharpened his pencil, you wished he would look at you with the same eagerness.

you picked up a strawberry. now being extra careful, dipped it in the cream.

"hyunjinnie, open wide ahhh" you said in a baby voice, moving it around just like how babies are fed. he giggled opening his mouth.

"is it delicious hm, my baby" you cooed, patting under his chin. hyunjin hummed, eyes going all puppylike.

"you know what would make it even better?"

"hm?"

he extended his arm, pulling you to him by the base of your neck. your eyes widened.

"say ahhh"

you did as he said. he kissed you. pushing it into your mouth. the fruity juices ran down the corners of your mouth. he seemed to notice, immediately pulling you even closer. licking it up desperately.

you moved away, head slightly throbbing from the aftertaste of the kiss. his soft lips still lingering on yours

"don't do that" you muttered, feeling your heart beat increase.

you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him lightly. he took another, holding it to your mouth, waiting for you to take it from him. pressing his thumb against my bottom lip, he kept your mouth open.

"one more" he whispered, kissing you much deeper this time. it was slow, almost a little too slow. you were starting to get impatient as he explored at his own pace. arms looped around his neck to hold him there, you weren't going to let him get away. your book and pen falling off your lap onto the floor. he himself, mindlessly took his sketchbook, throwing it on the table behind.

all while he chased your lips.

your fingers tangled up in his long hair.

hyunjin gasped as you pulled at his locks.. now looking at you with pure need.

pure love.

your eyes trailed down to where reminants of pink cream had dripped down his chin. you tugged his hair, loving the way his breath hitched.

"another strawberry please" he teased.

#hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz drabbles #lee minho smut #bang chan smut #hwang hyunjin smut #dom!hyunjin #fluffylino works #stray kids

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thetriumphantpanda · 4 months

Text

i only wanna worship you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary | When a promising lead for your story turns to dust, you find comfort in the only person you know can make you feel better these days.

Chapter Warnings | mentions and discussions of drugs, drug consumption and the drug trade, swearing, flirting, explicit smut, oral sex (f), protected piv sex but nothing else.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Authors Note | GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Thank you so much for being so patient - my new job and the festive period kicked my ass, but we're back, and it's the one you've all been waiting for! I'm having so much fun weaving in the story along with these guys' relationship, and I hope it was worth the wait for you. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You’ve been sat in the parking lot for what feels like ages. Turning up at the office that morning, you’d stared blankly at the article you’d written, listening to your managers voice in your head telling you that you could go and get your story, swirling the dregs of your coffee in your mug. It was almost like a switch had flicked in your brain and before your head could catch up with you, you were stuffing your supplies into your bag and swiping your car keys off the desk.

Now, your car is surrounded by others in the parking lot of Laredo’s biggest factory - one of the towns biggest employers of people who hadn’t gotten sick of it and left for college and never come back - waiting for Tyler Johnson to appear out of the front doors for his lunch break.

You watch the clock on your dashboard, counting exactly seventeen further minutes until his tall, lanky frame comes through the door. He’s fishing in his jeans pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He leans up against a brick wall just down from the front door, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. It’s now or never.

You get out of your car, deciding against taking your notepad and pen, you don’t want to spook him before you’ve had a chance to talk. You can feel the familiar nervous bubble in your stomach, something that hasn’t gone away when you blindly go up to someone to interrogate them.

“Tyler?”

He turns his head towards your voice as you come to a stop a few steps away from him.

“Depends who’s asking,” He looks you up and down, “But for you honey, sure thing,” He puts the cigarette into his mouth, reaches his hand out for you to shake which you do, “What can I help with?”

You take a deep breath, the speech you’d rehearsed in the car suddenly blanked from your mind as you try and figure out how to explain to him why you’re here.

“This is so strange, but can you remember hosting a party a few months ago?” You ask, “It was in town?”

You watch him think for a second, taking another drag on his cigarette, “Yeah I think so, was pretty wild if I remember, were you there?”

You reply with a nod, “Yeah, with my friend Liv,” You sigh, “Listen, I’m not trying to pry or anything, but you know that place was raided a few days ago, right?”

“Whole place knows it was raided,” He shrugs, “Been the talk of the town.”

“Right,” You’re thinking, how can you catch him in the act? “So, why were you hosting a party in a house that was empty, that was then raided for drugs?”

“Family own it,” He shrugs again, “Guy who rented it died and it needed doing up before we could get someone else in, so seemed like the best place to do it.”

“And the drugs?” You push.

“Listen, lady,” His tone sharpens but he doesn’t move towards you, you don’t feel threatened, “I haven’t got a clue as to why there were drugs there, okay? I haven’t been there since the party.”

“So you have no idea how they got there?”

“Not the faintest.”

“So it wasn’t you?”

“What the hell is this, twenty fucking questions?” He sighs again, flicks his finished cigarette to the ground, stamping on it with his boot, “I don’t know anything about the drugs, I’ve never taken drugs, I can’t even if I wanted to, we get tested here for them.”

“When was the last time you got tested?” You ask, eyebrows raised.

Tyler snorts at you, “You and everyone else in this fucking town are so predictable,” He shakes his head, “Just because I’m not a golden boy like my brother means I take drugs?” You’re about to open your mouth to reply when he started talking again, “I got tested about three weeks ago, and then probably six weeks before that too, clean as a whistle, always have been.”

“Do you have the test results?”

“You think I’m gonna show my drug test results to a random girl?”

You nod your head because it his trepidation makes sense, “I’m a journalist,” You finally let on, “I wrote a story about the drug bust but figured there was probably more to it than first meets the eye so I’m just digging around a little,” You shrug, “If you show me, it puts you in the clear though, means people’ll stop talking about you.”

Tyler rolls his eyes but starts walking towards a car. You follow behind him, waiting as he unlocks it and looks through the glove compartment, pulling out a couple of pieces of paper. He hands them to you, which you look through and just like he said, there are the result of his last three random drug tests, everything negative. Fuck. You try not to let your disappointment show as you hand them back.

“Sorry,” You mumble, “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on here.”

“S’alright,” Tyler responds, putting everything back in order to lock his car back up, “I know how it is, but just…” He trails off, “Be careful, okay? I don’t know what’s happening either but this could be dangerous.”

“I’m a big girl,” You counter, “I’ll be fine,” You take a few steps back, “Sorry for bothering you though, I hope the rest of your day is alright.”

There is a part of you that would love nothing more than to roll over, push your face into your pillow and scream. When did having meltdowns like that become frowned upon? You’re sure when you were little they were cathartic, but what use was that at three years old? You needed to be able to scream at this age.

Instead, you lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated that the one lead you had turned out to be a dead fucking end. Were you wrong about this whole thing the entire time? Were you barking up the wrong tree? Did you just need to cut your losses and publish the story as is, without needing to dig around further? You had no fucking clue.

Before you can think about what you’re doing, you reach over, pluck the phone off your nightstand and press the redial button. You don’t even need to tap in his number anymore, he’s the only number you really call these days. The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Javi?” You ask, although you don’t need to, you’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“You alright, cariño?” There is just a sigh that you let out in response, then his voice is back in your ear, “I’ve had enough bad days in my time to know that sigh, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Is your response, you know you can’t tell him what’s really up because you know the deeper you dig into this, the more dangerous it’s going to get, “Just work stress.”

He’s silent for a moment, “What can I do? I can listen.”

“Can you come over?”

Even over the phone, you can hear him thinking it’s a bad idea. You can hear him thinking about how weird it will look if your parents find him in the house with you on your own, how you’d explain it, even if they didn’t necessarily catch you doing anything.

“They’re out at the moment,” You offer, “Dinner with some people on the force, and I won’t make you stay long, I promise.”

You can hear him do that thing he always does when he’s thinking - clicking his tongue against his teeth. He’s done it for as long as you can remember - a real tell that he’s battling with something in his head.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” You hasten to add, “We can just talk like this if you’d rather.”

“Need someone to make you feel better, huh?” His tone is lower now and it makes you squirm, all you can reply with is a small mmhmm sound, “I’ll be there soon.”

Then all you can hear is the dial tone. You lie there for a moment, listening to the sound through the phone, then glance around your room and panic. You slam the handset back onto the receiver and hop out of bed, dragging the sheets up to make the bed properly, aimlessly throwing abandoned clothes into the laundry basket, shoving half-read books back onto their shelves and generally tidying up enough so as to not look like a total slob.

Once you’re sure there’s nothing on display that you wouldn’t want Javi to see, you pace around the living room, drawing the curtains a little whenever you can see headlights bleeding through, until one set of those headlights are Javi’s truck. He pulls into the drive and sits there, before he’s reversing back out and driving off. Your heart sinks a little, until you can see his frame walking back up the street. You let the curtains fall back into place and stand by the front door, smoothing your hair and your clothes when he knocks twice. You don’t wait, just tear the door open.

“Waiting for me, huh?” He asks, stepping across the threshold, one hand slipping around your waist, the other letting the door close behind him.

“N-no, I was just by the door when you knocked.” You breath, so close to his mouth.

“That so?” He asks, eyebrow raised, “Someone else looking out the curtains then?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to answer. Instead, he dips his face to yours, lips pressed softly to yours. You can feel the aches and the stress leaving your body as he does, you bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, as Javi’s palm on your lower back presses you into his body fully.

“Y-you wanna m-maybe go upstairs?” You ask, lips still a hairs breadth from his, you don’t want to look at him whilst you ask.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, free hand cupping your cheek to make you look at him.

“I think so, yes.” You breathe.

“Well then, lead the way cariño.”

I don’t deserve this, is all Javi can think as your hand is clutched in his, leading him into your bedroom. He doesn’t deserve the flutter in his stomach when he looks at you, or the way your eyes look at him like he’s the best thing the world has ever offered you, and he certainly doesn’t deserve the opportunity to do what he thinks you’re going to let him do in the next few hours. All of the bad he’s done, veiled as something good, all of the shit he’s fucked up before, the people’s he’s hurt, the people he’s killed, whether at his own hand or as a knock on from his actions, he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.

You’re stood at the door to your room, back pressed up against it, hands clasped behind your back as he stands in the middle of your room. He knows you’re nervous, you always are around him, and he wishes he could say something, express that he feels exactly the same around you, that you make him nervous too, but he thinks it would sound wrong if he tried to explain it, so he doesn’t, just holds out his hand and beckons you over to him.

The warmth of your hand slipping into his, the way he knows those hands feel when you touch him, the way your lips are soft when you kiss him, all of it makes him a weak man, a man who knows you need someone with less baggage, because he can’t say no to you, he doesn’t want to say no to you.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, manoeuvring the two of you so you’re sitting on the edge of your bed.

He watches as you shake your head, “No, it’s honestly nothing, it’ll be fine.”

“What do you want then?”

You lift your head, flash those beautiful eyes at him and instead of fighting the strength to stay upright, he takes a single step towards you and drops to his knees, settled on the floor with your thighs spread to accommodate him. He puts his hands on your knees, looking up at you, and spreads them a little wider.

“This what you want?” He asks, trailing his hands up to your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up with his hands as he goes, “Something to take your mind off things for a while?”

“Y-yes,” You gasp when his hands hit the material of your underwear wrapped around your hips, “Yes please.”

Javi hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, watching as you lift yourself off the bed a little so he can pull them down. He’s slow with it, making sure that the hem of your dress keeps you covered as he can. It strikes him now how much he wants this, how much he’s craved the opportunity to get you like this so he can really hear you, really see you for once, without having to worry about getting caught.

“You wanna show me that pretty pussy, hermosa?” He speaks lowly into the skin of your thigh he’s nuzzling at.

He watches from between your thighs as your cheek drops to your shoulder, trying to hide how bashful you’ve become, but it does nothing to help the growing bulge in his jeans. Javi lets his fingers push the hem of your dress up your thighs, pooling at your waist, your legs widening.

Javi thinks he might audibly gasp at the way you’re already glistening for him. He leans forward, puckers his lips and presses a single kiss to your clit. It’s gentle, he revels in the small gasp you suck in, then he’s on your properly, tip of his tongue flicking gently against that little bud. He can feel your hand gripping at his hair already, hips moving in time with his mouth, and he wonders if anyone has ever blessed you like this. He needs to know.

He pulls away, letting his thumb gently replace his mouth, looking up at you, “Anyone ever done this for you?”

You shake your head, “No, but even if they had,” You’re biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t think it would have felt like this.”

He can’t help but smirk as he brings his mouth back to you, suckling your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, listening to you the way you whine for him, the way you start moving your hips in time with the movements of his mouth again. You taste divine, he thinks, as his tongue drops a little lower, drinking up the slick you’re creating for him, dragging it back up to run over your clit again.

“T-that’s so g-good.” He hears you moan.

“Yeah?” He replies, barely pulling off you.

He hears a noise in reply, lets one of his fingers trace up the skin of your thigh until he’s slowly pushing it inside of you, amazed at how easily you let him in just like he had been in the alley. He slips another in, curls them up gently, moves them until you tip your head back and really cry out for him this time. Javi can tell you’re close - he’s made enough women in his life feel good this way to know the signs - the way you’re tightening around his fingers inside you, the way your hips are moving but your thighs are starting to tighten around his shoulders and the way your moans are louder but more breathy, he’s addicted already, he knows it’s bad, but right now he can’t find it in himself to really care.

“J-javi,” You breathe, fingers gripping at his hair, “I’m gonna-”

“Go on, cariño,” He urges, “You can come for me.”

And you do, God alive you do, and it’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever been party to. Your cunt goes tight as a fist around his fingers, slick drooling down into his palm, he can feel the way you flutter around them as you say his name over and over again in some sort of fucked up prayer, and he thinks about how it would feel around his cock. Your entire body convulses as he works you gently through the aftershocks with his mouth, fingers slipping from inside you to rest, wet and sticky, on your thigh.

All of a sudden, he can feel you gripping his shoulders, pulling at the material to try and drag him up to you.

“Slow down, baby,” He says, but he moves anyway, pushing you back onto the bed, settling himself between your thighs, “We’ve got all night.”

“Javi, please,” You beg, and he doesn’t think he’s heard anything nicer in his life, “I want you,” Your fingers are fumbling with his jeans, trying to move his belt, “Inside me.”

Javi moves, taking your wrists in his hands, pinning them above your head, letting his hips grind into your own, front of his jeans grinding into the soft wet of your sensitive cunt.

“Do you have anything?” He breathes right into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe.

“Top drawer.” You say quietly, whining when he pushes himself up onto his knees to reach into the draw.

Javi fumbles around a little until the familiar crinkle of foil hits the tips of his fingers. He pulls it out, places it into his mouth as he works to undo his jeans, pushing them down only far enough to free his aching cock. In an ideal world he’d strip the two of you off, but there’s something about this image of you, laid out on the bed in your sinful little sundress, tits heaving as you breathe, that means he just can’t wait.

He almost cries when you reach up, smooth palm stroking at his cock, so slowly he thinks he might die. Tin foil packet between his teeth, he tears it open, rolls it into his cock like it’s muscle memory. He leans back down, feeling the head of his cock nudging at your aching pussy, gathering your wrists back into his hands to pin you down again.

Javi is looking right into your beautiful eyes now, looking at the very soul of you as he stills. He’s damning the both of you to hell with this. He thinks if he’d been stronger, he could have stopped this - sure your mouth around his cock in the bar had been like silk, and the way you’d let him touch you against the brick wall had him seeing stars, but he knows, once he’s sunk himself deep inside you, he won’t be able to come back from this.

“You sure?” He asks, lips pressing softly to your own.

“Please.”

And it’s all he needed to hear to start slowly sinking into you. He watches closely as your eyes flutter closed, head tipped back, throat exposed to his mouth. He listens as he inches in slowly to your panting breaths and your little moans, until he’s buried fully inside you. His hands are gripping at your wrists tightly as he stays still, your hips wiggling underneath him.

“Hermosa,” He pleads, warns with his tone, “Don’t m-move, please.”

Like the devil himself, you don’t listen, and when he pulls his face from the crook of your neck, you’re smirking, you know exactly what you’re doing.

“Javier,” You use his full name and he swears he feels himself throb inside you, “Fuck me.”

He should have known the whole time that this wasn’t going to be a shining star performance, it’s been too long since he’s felt like this, felt the warmth of someone like this, but he knows this is different, he knows that look in your eye, not quite love, definitely not quite love, but it’s something different to the girls of Colombia. He can’t offer you a lifeline, he can’t offer you money to get yourself out of a country that’s trying to kill you, they needed him for something, and he needed them for something in return. But here, he just needs you, no whistles, no bells, just you.

Pushing himself up a little, letting go of his grip on your wrists, he puts his palms on the backs of your thighs and pushing your legs back, folding you underneath him as he starts moving a little faster, fucking you a little harder, you let out a proper moan into the air of the room and he finds himself smirking.

“That what you needed, baby?” He coos as he fucks you, feeling himself reach the very end of you with each thrust, “Just needed me to fuck whatever was in that pretty head of yours away?”

He can feel you tightening around his length, can feel the sweat sticking his shirt to his back, and that tell-tale tightening he feels when it’s almost time. He wishes he could hold on, wishes he could string this out, make it better for you, but god he needs to feel you again, he needs to feel the way you come around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” His tonne is demanding, but he watches down at you as you smirk, bringing your hand to your pussy, finger circling your clit as his hips start to falter, “Come on baby, one more just for me.”

It happens all of a sudden, the way your body snaps under him, and that feeling he’s been chasing, the feeling of you clenching around him, arching your back into him. He can feel the effect it has on him, just seconds later he’s following you over the edge, stilling inside of you as he finishes, banishing the tiny thought in the back of his head that says he wishes he was filling you up without a barrier between the two of you.

Once he’s caught his breath a little, he pulls out of you, groaning into your skin, listening to you whine at the loss of him. He takes off the condom, ties a knot in the top, wrapping it along with the packet in a tissue to put in the bin. He puts his clothes right, before crawling back onto the bed with you, pulling you into his chest, sighing at the feeling of your arm draped over his stomach, your leg entwined with his own. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did that help?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You reply softly into the material of his shirt, “Thank you.”

“You feel okay?” He’s slightly worried he was too rough, maybe that you didn’t enjoy it, “Was it okay?”

You move your head, looking up at him with sleepy eyes, “Javi, please,” You whisper, “Stop worrying, it was perfect.”

He lies there for a while, wishing he could strip the two of you down, press your warm bodies together and fall asleep like this is all normal and you aren’t younger than him, or the daughter of one of his closest friends.

“I should go,” He muses, “Not that I want to,” He adds quickly, worried you’ll think he wants to make a quick escape, “Just need to leave before any eyes are around to ask questions.”

You move slightly, letting the warmth of your body drag away from his own, “One day we’ll be able to do this properly, I hope.” You say, pushing yourself up on your palm as he rises from the bed.

“I promise the next time I have you like that,” He’s looking at you now, chin held in his hand, “I’m going to strip you down, take my time and fall asleep next to you, I promise.”

He kisses you then, slipping his tongue into your mouth and it takes every inch of his strength to pull away.

“Go on,” You smile at him, “Before my dad comes home and shoots you.”

“He wouldn’t shoot me baby,” He smiles back at you, “He wants me back on the force too much.”

“Before he gives you a black eye then.”

He can’t help but laugh at that, giving you a small salute as he turns to leave, but there’s something niggling at that back of his mind as his hand reaches for the handle of your door, something he needs to ask before he leaves, “If something was bothering you,” He asks, turning back to you, “Or you were getting into something at work, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

He’s looking right at you as you answer, searching for anything that says you’re not telling him the truth, and as you answer, he doesn’t find a reason to doubt you, “Of course I would.”

When he’s gone, twenty minutes later your parents are falling through the door, laughing at each other, too many glasses of God knows what over dinner have made them jolly and you find yourself smirking, biting at your bottom lip in the dark, that the two of them have no idea that Javier Peña left just twenty minutes ago after fucking you better than anyone else ever had.

It’s something that keeps you smiling, even as you fall asleep, eyes closing, any thought of work and dead-end leads forgotten and replaced by dreams of what else that man might be able to show you.

374 notes · View notes

ahaura · 5 months

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Title & subtitle:

[Nov. 21] The Harvard Law Review Refused to Run This Piece About Genocide in Gaza: The piece was nearing publication when the journal decided against publishing it. You can read the article here.

Article text:

On Saturday, the board of the Harvard Law Review voted not to publish “The Ongoing Nakba: Towards a Legal Framework for Palestine,” a piece by Rabea Eghbariah, a human rights attorney completing his doctoral studies at Harvard Law School. The vote followed what an editor at the law reviewdescribed in an e-mail to Eghbariah as “an unprecedented decision” by the leadership of the Harvard Law Review to prevent the piece’s publication.

Eghbariah told The Nation that the piece, which was intended for the HLR Blog, had been solicited by two of the journal’s online editors. It would have been the first piece written by a Palestinian scholar for the law review. The piece went through several rounds of edits, but before it was set to be published, the president stepped in. “The discussion did not involve any substantive or technical aspects of your piece,” online editor Tascha Shahriari-Parsa, wrote Eghbariah in an e-mail shared with The Nation. “Rather, the discussion revolved around concerns about editors who might oppose or be offended by the piece, as well as concerns that the piece might provoke a reaction from members of the public who might in turn harass, dox, or otherwise attempt to intimidate our editors, staff, and HLR leadership.”

On Saturday, following several days of debate and a nearly six-hour meeting, the Harvard Law Review’s full editorial body came together to vote on whether to publish the article. Sixty-three percent voted against publication. In an e-mail to Egbariah, HLR President Apsara Iyer wrote, “While this decision may reflect several factors specific to individual editors, it was not brd on your identity or viewpoint.”

In a statement that was shared with The Nation, a group of 25 HLR editors expressed their concerns about the decision. “At a time when the Law Review was facing a public intimidation and harassment campaign, the journal’s leadership intervened to stop publication,” they wrote. “The body of editors—none of whom are Palestinian—voted to sustain that decision. We are unaware of any other solicited piece that has been revoked by the Law Review in this way. “

When asked for comment, the leadership of the Harvard Law Review referred The Nation to a message posted on the journal’s website. “Like every academic journal, the Harvard Law Review has rigorous editorial processes governing how it solicits, evaluates, and determines when and whether to publish a piece…” the note began. ”Last week, the full body met and deliberated over whether to publish a particular Blog piece that had been solicited by two editors. A substantial majority voted not to proceed with publication.”

Today, The Nation is sharing the piece that the Harvard Law Review refused to run.

enocide is a crime. It is a legal framework. It is unfolding in Gaza. And yet, the inertia of legal academia, especially in the United States, has been chilling. Clearly, it is much easier to dissect the case law rather than navigate the reality of death. It is much easier to consider genocide in the past tense rather than contend with it in the present. Legal scholars tend to sharpen their pens after the smell of death has dissipated and moral clarity is no longer urgent.

Some may claim that the invocation of genocide, especially in Gaza, is fraught. But does one have to wait for a genocide to be successfully completed to name it? This logic contributes to the politics of denial. When it comes to Gaza, there is a sense of moral hypocrisy that undergirds Western epistemological approaches, one which mutes the ability to name the violence inflicted upon Palestinians. But naming injustice is crucial to claiming justice. If the international community takes its crimes seriously, then the discussion about the unfolding genocide in Gaza is not a matter of mere semantics.

The UN Genocide Convention defines the crime of genocide as certain acts “committed with the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such.” These acts include “killing members of a protected group” or “causing serious bodily or mental harm” or “deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part.”

Numerous statements made by top Israeli politicians affirm their intentions. There is a forming consensus among leading scholars in the field of genocide studies that “these statements could easily be construed as indicating a genocidal intent,” as Omer Bartov, an authority in the field, writes. More importantly, genocide is the material reality of Palestinians in Gaza: an entrapped, displaced, starved, water-deprived population of 2.3 million facing massive bombardments and a carnage in one of the most densely populated areas in the world. Over 11,000 people have already been killed. That is one person out of every 200 people in Gaza. Tens of thousands are injured, and over 45% of homes in Gaza have been destroyed. The United Nations Secretary General said that Gaza is becoming a “graveyard for children,” but a cessation of the carnage—a ceasefire—remains elusive. Israel continues to blatantly violate international law: dropping white phosphorus from the sky, dispersing death in all directions, shedding blood, shelling neighborhoods, striking schools, hospitals, and universities, bombing churches and mosques, wiping out families, and ethnically cleansing an entire region in both callous and systemic manner. What do you call this?

The Center for Constitutional Rights issued a thorough, 44-page, factual and legal analysis, asserting that “there is a plausible and credible case that Israel is committing genocide against the Palestinian population in Gaza.” Raz Segal, a historian of the Holocaust and genocide studies, calls the situation in Gaza “a textbook case of Genocide unfolding in front of our eyes.” The inaugural chief prosecutor of the International Criminal Court, Luis Moreno Ocampo, notes that “Just the blockade of Gaza—just that—could be genocide under Article 2(c) of the Genocide Convention, meaning they are creating conditions to destroy a group.” A group of over 800 academics and practitioners, including leading scholars in the fields of international law and genocide studies, warn of “a serious risk of genocide being committed in the Gaza Strip.” A group of seven UN Special Rapporteurs has alerted to the “risk of genocide against the Palestinian people” and reiterated that they “remain convinced that the Palestinian people are at grave risk of genocide.” Thirty-six UN experts now call the situation in Gaza “a genocide in the making.” How many other authorities should I cite? How many hyperlinks are enough?

And yet, leading law schools and legal scholars in the United States still fashion their silence as impartiality and their denial as nuance. Is genocide really the crime of all crimes if it is committed by Western allies against non-Western people?

This is the most important question that Palestine continues to pose to the international legal order. Palestine brings to legal analysis an unmasking force: It unveils and reminds us of the ongoing colonial condition that underpins Western legal institutions. In Palestine, there are two categories: mournable civilians and savage human-animals. Palestine helps us rediscover that these categories remain racialized along colonial lines in the 21st century: the first is reserved for Israelis, the latter for Palestinians. As Isaac Herzog, Israel’s supposed liberal President, asserts: “It’s an entire nation out there that is responsible. This rhetoric about civilians not aware, not involved, it’s absolutely not true.”

Palestinians simply cannot be innocent. They are innately guilty; potential “terrorists” to be “neutralized” or, at best, “human shields” obliterated as “collateral damage”. There is no number of Palestinian bodies that can move Western governments and institutions to “unequivocally condemn” Israel, let alone act in the present tense. When contrasted with Jewish-Israeli life—the ultimate victims of European genocidal ideologies—Palestinians stand no chance at humanization. Palestinians are rendered the contemporary “savages” of the international legal order, and Palestine becomes the frontier where the West redraws its discourse of civility and strips its domination in the most material way. Palestine is where genocide can be performed as a fight of “the civilized world” against the “enemies of civilization itself.” Indeed, a fight between the “children of light” versus the “children of darkness.”

The genocidal war waged against the people of Gaza since Hamas’s excruciating October 7th attacks against Israelis—attacks which amount to war crimes—has been the deadliest manifestation of Israeli colonial policies against Palestinians in decades. Some have long ago analyzed Israeli policies in Palestine through the lens of genocide. While the term genocide may have its own limitations to describe the Palestinian past, the Palestinian present was clearly preceded by a “politicide”: the extermination of the Palestinian body politic in Palestine, namely, the systematic eradication of the Palestinian ability to maintain an organized political community as a group.

This process of erasure has spanned over a hundred years through a combination of massacres, ethnic cleansing, dispossession, and the fragmentation of the remaining Palestinians into distinctive legal tiers with diverging material interests. Despite the partial success of this politicide—and the continued prevention of a political body that represents all Palestinians—the Palestinian political identity has endured. Across the besieged Gaza Strip, the occupied West Bank, Jerusalem, Israel’s 1948 territories, refugee camps, and diasporic communities, Palestinian nationalism lives.

What do we call this condition? How do we name this collective existence under a system of forced fragmentation and cruel domination? The human rights community has largely adopted a combination of occupation and apartheid to understand the situation in Palestine. Apartheid is a crime. It is a legal framework. It is committed in Palestine. And even though there is a consensus among the human rights community that Israel is perpetrating apartheid, the refusal of Western governments to come to terms with this material reality of Palestinians is revealing.

Once again, Palestine brings a special uncovering force to the discourse. It reveals how otherwise credible institutions, such as Amnesty International or Human Rights Watch, are no longer to be trusted. It shows how facts become disputable in a Trumpist fashion by liberals such as President Biden. Palestine allows us to see the line that bifurcates the binaries (e.g. trusted/untrusted) as much as it underscores the collapse of dichotomies (e.g. democrat/republican or fact/claim). It is in this liminal space that Palestine exists and continues to defy the distinction itself. It is the exception that reveals the rule and the subtext that is, in fact, the text: Palestine is the most vivid manifestation of the colonial condition upheld in the 21st century.

hat do you call this ongoing colonial condition? Just as the Holocaust introduced the term “Genocide” into the global and legal consciousness, the South African experience brought “Apartheid” into the global and legal lexicon. It is due to the work and sacrifice of far too many lives that genocide and apartheid have globalized, transcending these historical calamities. These terms became legal frameworks, crimes enshrined in international law, with the hope that their recognition will prevent their repetition. But in the process of abstraction, globalization, and readaptation, something was lost. Is it the affinity between the particular experience and the universalized abstraction of the crime that makes Palestine resistant to existing definitions?

Scholars have increasingly turned to settler-colonialism as the lens through which we assess Palestine. Settler-colonialism is a structure of erasure where the settler displaces and replaces the native. And while settler-colonialism, genocide, and apartheid are clearly not mutually exclusive, their ability to capture the material reality of Palestinians remains elusive. South Africa is a particular case of settler-colonialism. So are Israel, the United States, Australia, Canada, Algeria, and more. The framework of settler colonialism is both useful and insufficient. It does not provide meaningful ways to understand the nuance between these different historical processes and does not necessitate a particular outcome. Some settler colonial cases have been incredibly normalized at the expense of a completed genocide. Others have led to radically different end solutions. Palestine both fulfills and defies the settler-colonial condition.

We must consider Palestine through the iterations of Palestinians. If the Holocaust is the paradigmatic case for the crime of genocide and South Africa for that of apartheid, then the crime against the Palestinian people must be called the Nakba.

The term Nakba, meaning “Catastrophe,” is often used to refer to the making of the State of Israel in Palestine, a process that entailed the ethnic cleansing of over 750,000 Palestinians from their homes and destroying 531 Palestinian villages between 1947 to 1949. But the Nakba has never ceased; it is a structure not an event. Put shortly, the Nakba is ongoing.

In its most abstract form, the Nakba is a structure that serves to erase the group dynamic: the attempt to incapacitate the Palestinians from exercising their political will as a group. It is the continuous collusion of states and systems to exclude the Palestinians from materializing their right to self-determination. In its most material form, the Nakba is each Palestinian killed or injured, each Palestinian imprisoned or otherwise subjugated, and each Palestinian dispossessed or exiled.

The Nakba is both the material reality and the epistemic framework to understand the crimes committed against the Palestinian people. And these crimes—encapsulated in the framework of Nakba—are the result of the political ideology of Zionism, an ideology that originated in late nineteenth century Europe in response to the notions of nationalism, colonialism, and antisemitism.

As Edward Said reminds us, Zionism must be assessed from the standpoint of its victims, not its beneficiaries. Zionism can be simultaneously understood as a national movement for some Jews and a colonial project for Palestinians. The making of Israel in Palestine took the form of consolidating Jewish national life at the expense of shattering a Palestinian one. For those displaced, misplaced, bombed, and dispossessed, Zionism is never a story of Jewish emancipation; it is a story of Palestinian subjugation.

What is distinctive about the Nakba is that it has extended through the turn of the 21st century and evolved into a sophisticated system of domination that has fragmented and reorganized Palestinians into different legal categories, with each category subject to a distinctive type of violence. Fragmentation thus became the legal technology underlying the ongoing Nakba. The Nakba has encompassed both apartheid and genocidal violence in a way that makes it fulfill these legal definitions at various points in time while still evading their particular historical frames.

Palestinians have named and theorized the Nakba even in the face of persecution, erasure, and denial. This work has to continue in the legal domain. Gaza has reminded us that the Nakba is now. There are recurringthreats by Israeli politicians and other public figures to commit the crime of the Nakba, again. If Israeli politicians are admitting the Nakba in order to perpetuate it, the time has come for the world to also reckon with the Palestinian experience. The Nakba must globalize for it to end.

We must imagine that one day there will be a recognized crime of committing a Nakba, and a disapprobation of Zionism as an ideology brd on racial elimination. The road to get there remains long and challenging, but we do not have the privilege to relinquish any legal tools available to name the crimes against the Palestinian people in the present and attempt to stop them. The denial of the genocide in Gaza is rooted in the denial of the Nakba. And both must end, now.

#palestine #uspol #the nation #geopol #long post #the article is paywalled so here it is for ease of access #📁.zip

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 9 months

Note

Hi!! i love your stories and was wondering if you do requests? if not im so sorry to bother you!!!!! and if you do than would it be ok if you could do a bull kiri and bull baku x heifer y/n? again if not im so sorry and hope you have a good day!!

In the Fruit Orchard (Bull!KiriBaku x Heifer!Reader) [REQUEST FILL]

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Ejirou Kirishima x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you, a heifer girl, get a night with the hottest bull boys on Aizawa's farm after a trip through the fruit orchard.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Animal Hybrid!KiriBaku; Animal Hybrid!Reader; Reader is Fem; Mild Sexual Harassment; Reader Makes First Move; Consensual; Foreplay; Mentions of Milk; Breeding Kink; Deepthroating; Facefucking; Praise; Missionary; Doggystyle; Creampie Kink; Cum on Body; Aftercare; Cuddle Pile

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I got this request a few days ago & had to give it a try. I hope you like it! -Jazz

************

They were the finest bulls on Shouta Aizawa’s farm.

And this wasn’t just something said between the farm animal hybrids that roamed the 300 acres. Any time Aizawa had any guests over at his farm, such as fellow farmers, investors looking to buy the farm (which usually never happened) and visitors who took advantage of the farmer’s market he threw every spring, they always made a point to comment on the two bulls.

“They’re so big and strong!” they’d say, watching in awe as one would toss several bails of hay while the other sharpened their horns on a nearby tree. Usually, every cow on the farm would be staring too, teeming with adoration for the two. “That’s why they’re here,” Aizawa would always say. “Nobody can handle those two but me.”

And that was the damn truth. There was no one that could handle the brute force, cockiness, or hot-headedness of the bull duo. They first came to the farm two years ago.

Apparently, Aizawa and his husband, Hizashi Yamada, had saved the two from an abusive animal ring where they were forced to fight other bulls. You weren’t there when they arrived at the farm, but from overhearing from your friends, they were coated in bruises, scars, and starved. Katsuki and Ejiro – or “Kiri” – they were named. Since their arrival, they’ve been celebrities on the farm.

You came to Aizawa’s farm last spring after your last owner died. You’ve enjoyed the rolling fields, endless apple trees, and comfortable pens ever since…but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy Katsuki and Kiri more. You’ll admit the first time you saw them, you were intimidated.

They were big, buff, and beautiful. Similar to centaurs, their upper halves were nothing but rippling muscle, from their thick pectorals right down to their rock-hard abs, while their bottom halves were of a bull––nothing but fine, dark hair covering thick muscles right down to their calves, thighs, and two hoofed feet. They always walked around with their bull rings glinting in the sunlight and steam protruding from their nostrils as they worked, sweat dripping down their skin in the hot sun.

You never talked to them before. You were more than happy to just watch. You weren’t sure you’d even know what to say to them. You’d probably trip over your words and feel too intimidated because of how big they were and how they towered over your small frame, no matter your size or shape. You imagined that this is why so many cows and heifers loved them so.

It wasn’t private knowledge that Katsuki and Kiri were a hit with the ladies. You’d catch them watching the bull duo with heart eyes all the time along the wooden gates where the cows were separated from the bulls. If they never watched, you’d hear them gossip about the two all day and night, whether during breakfast or at night in your pens. “God, they’re just so fucking hot!” they’d dreamily sigh. “I wish I could have one of them for my own.”

“Please, I’d take both of them,” another would chuckle. “They’re too sexy to choose just one. If I wasn’t already mated, I’d have them both give me their babies.” The lady cows would laugh while you’d just lay in your fluffy bed in your pen, your best friend and fellow lady cow Mina lying beside you. She’d turn to you in the late night when the pens were finally silent, her golden eyes glowing in the dark. “You’re always so quiet when the girls gossip about those two,” she’d whisper.

You’d shrug, staring up at the starry sky through the window-like hole above your pen. “Because I’m not interested in talking about those two like they’re pieces of meat,” you’d grumble. “Sure, they’re attractive, but it’s not necessary or appropriate.”

“Fair point,” Mina said, “but come on, you’ve gotta admit that they’re hot as fuck.” She’d smirk at you with her pink lips and snout as she rubbed her big belly that she got from Denki, one of the male cows here. “I would go for Kiri, personally. He’s such a sweetheart. What about you, Y/N? Who'd you go for?”

You just told her neither and went off to sleep as she giggled beside you, knowing you were full of shit. The truth was you’d choose both of them. You loved how sweet and friendly Kiri was, his bright smile and red locks always filling you up with warmth whenever you’d see him grazing or soaking up the sun in the mornings. But you also were attracted to Katsuki’s gruffness and how aggressive he got to anyone or anything that threatened his home. He once nearly pummeled a crooked investor who wanted to steal Aizawa’s farm from him, prompting the guy to never come back.

You couldn’t deny the butterflies they gave you whenever you’d see or hear those raspy, deep voices that filled your dreams every night. You knew you had a deep crush, but you weren’t sure if you wanted them to be with you completely.

That is, to breed you. You were the only heifer on the farm so it was quite intimidating and alienating to be the only female cow who wasn’t pregnant, didn’t have babies, or wasn’t with another cow or bull. Plus, you weren't even sure you wanted someone like Katsuki and Kiri. You’d prefer someone who wasn’t on every cow’s mind and perhaps in every cow’s pen at night.

That all changed the night Aizawa and Hizashi went out of town for the weekend. It was for their 7th-year anniversary and they would be gone until Monday morning. They told you all about it when they gathered the farm animals for a group meeting the beginning of that week during breakfast. “We’re going away!” Hizashi proudly announced. “To celebrate seven years of our amazing relationship!”

Aizawa blushed when his husband leaned his head on his shoulder, slipping an arm around his waist. “When we’re gone, every single one of you will be on your best behavior,” he sternly said. “I’ll keep the house locked up, but the farm will still be open for visits from the public. Anyone tries to break in, the bulls know what to do. Otherwise, just be good and don’t make a mess.”

Make a mess, the animals didn’t. But being good? That rule was never going to be respected.

After your owners left Friday night, Saturday night was as wild as one could get on a farm. A party was thrown in the barn house where music, dunking for apples, and drinking from the secret whiskey stash Aizawa stored away all took place. You initially didn’t want to go, but Mina talked you into it. “When are we ever gonna get a weekend where the farmers aren’t here?” she groaned. “C’mon, just for an hour!”

You begrudgingly agreed though an hour turned into about three insufferable ones. You sat in the dimly-lit barn on one of the hay bails as a stool, watching as Mina danced with Denki and drank her fill of beer. The party was still in full swing, noise and hollering of the animals all around you that made you very uncomfortable. You sat stiffly with your cow-like legs together, your human hands in your lap. You did have to admit that you looked nice in your flowery sundress that Mina forced you to wear. You were secretly hoping to run into Katsuki and Kiri tonight, but so far, you haven’t seen them.

You sighed, sipping on your iced tea mixed with a bit of whiskey. You wanted nothing more than to leave this place. “Hey, Y/N!” a faintly familiar voice shouted to you. You turned, finding Shindo waving at you as he made is way over to you on his powerful legs with a swing of his tail. He was one of the most beautiful horses you’ve ever seen with the finest black hair along his bottom half like on his head. His top half was just as pretty––nothing but lean muscle and the prettiest, green eyes you’ve ever seen.

But not as pretty as Katsuki and Kiri. “Oh, hey, Shindo,” you giggle. “I haven’t seen you all night.” Shindo's tail swayed giddily as he looked down at you. “The other horses and I were down by the lake to cool off,” he explains. “It’s a real nice night. You should come out with me for a walk.”

You blinked up at him, wondering if he was serious. “You’re asking me?” you questioned. No hybrid, especially a male, had ever asked to d anything with them before. “Yeah!” he laughed. “I was just goin’ down the trail to check out the apple trees and I don’t mind your company. Plus, you don’t seem like you’re enjoying the party too much. How come you aren’t dancing?” His smile grew, playfully so.

You flushed, toying with the hem of your sundress. “I don’t really dance in these types of settings,” you sheepishly laughed. “Too many drunk shenanigans.” As if on cue, one of the cows––that being Sero—flew down the staircase leading up to the upper floor, crashing into one of the wooden tables.

“Fair point,” Shindo chuckled. “C’mon, maybe we can get some before the drunk crowd does.” He put his hand out for yours, patiently waiting for your answer.

You looked down at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. What if someone saw you leave with him and got the wrong idea? What if Katsuki and Kiri saw? ‘Who cares what they think?’ your voice of reason hissed. ‘You’re not even mated to them! They probably don’t even know you exist!’

“Okay,” you finally giggled. “Why not?” You put you hand in Shindo’s and let him lead you away from the barn and into the summer night.

Once away from the barn, the night was quiet and peaceful. Only the buzz of insects, the hooting of a nearby owl, and your and Shindo’s hooves clicking across the path could be heard as you both walked along the dirt paths to the apple orchards, all planted by Hizashi. You often went here to relax and enjoy the quiet for a while on warm, sunny days. Shindo suddenly stopped and pointed at the dozens of apple trees in the twilight with the reddest, ripest apples hanging from their branches. “Here, they go!” He exclaims excitedly.

He skipped over to one of the trees and you followed, giggling. He stopped at one and picked an apple, immediately chomping into it. His eyes close, taken aback by the taste. “Mmm, that’s good. Grab one for yourself.”

You did so, walking up beside him to grab an apple. You bit into it immediately, loving the sound of your teeth chomping along the crisp, juicy flesh. “Wow, this is good,” you hummed. As you ate, the summer breeze caressed your skin and hair, making the apple trees sway. “And it is a nice night,” you sighed, closing your eyes against the breeze. You felt so good. So peaceful.

When you opened your eyes, you found Shindo starting at you. There was a strange, almost intimate look in them that you couldn’t quite make sense of. “You look beautiful tonight,” he commented. You snorted as a natural reaction, shaking your head at his words. “Really! But I’m sure your mate tells you that all of the time, right?”

As he flashed a white-toothed smile at you, our heart sank into your stomach. “Uh, no,” you confessed, looking down at your apple. “I-I don’t have a mate. I’m still a heifer.” Even saying it, you felt pathetic. While it was nothing to be ashamed about and you knew you didn’t want any kids right now, you looked around at so many of the girl cows on the farm and wanted what they had: a mate.

“Seriously?” Shindo asked, shocked. “How’s that possible? You’re so cute!” You flushed at his compliment, looking off into the night. “It just never happened, I guess.”

“So you’re not with that bull duo all the cows seem to love?” Shindo asked. The farm is sayin’ they’ve got a thing for you.” You stared at him, wide-eyed, your heart pummeling in your chest. “W-What?” you dumbly asked. There is no way that is true. It can’t be. Shindo shook his head, tossing the apple aside. “That’s too bad,” he tutted, “because I’ve got a thing for you, too. I’ve had it for a while now, to tell you the truth.”

Your eyes bugged out of your skull. “What?” you asked once again, louder this time. Shindo didn’t speak as he began to slowly walk toward you, a sensual look in his forest-green eyes. You began to walk backward, squeaking when you slammed against a tree. “Wait, Shindo…how would this even work? Y-You’re a horse!”

Shindo just laughed as he drew nearer to you, putting his big hands on your waist. “Interspecies relationships happen a lot around here,” he chuckled. “Didn’t you know?”

His fingers began to slowly slip down to your dress, creeping up above it to lie on your bare fur. “I can treat you way better than those bonehead bulls, Y/N,” he whispered. “You know it, deep down.” He began to lean in for a kiss and you put your hands out to stop him, laying them flat against his bare chest. “Wait, Shindo,” you protested. “I-I don’t even know you that well. We shouldn’t–“

“I think she’s telling you no, horse face,” a raspy, familiar voice growled from beyond the trees. Shindo stopped, glaring into the darkness.

Standing there at the end of the path was Katsuki, fists balled up at his sides and steam billowing from his nostrils like in a cartoon. You heart flipped at the sight of him. “You?” Shindo scoffed, smirking at him. “What, you saw me with her and decided to make a move? You’re just too slow, ‘Suki.”

“Wrong answer,” another raspy yet slightly higher voice said. From behind Katsuki outstepped Kiri, equally as intimidating with his long, red hair and crimson eyes. “We saw her with you, yes, but we’re not here to ‘make a move’. We’re here to stop you from takin’ advantage of this girl when she clearly isn’t interested and then ghosting her like you did to the horse girls on your old farm.” He tapped a finger against his chin, thinking. “And a few heifer girls too, if I’m not mistaken.”

Shindo visibly gulped, realizing he’d been caught, while you stare at him in awe and rage. Did he see you as just that? A poor, lonely heifer to take advantage of?

Katsuki stepped closer, his hooves stomping against the ground. “You need to leave her alone,” he growled. “Tonight and after tonight. If I catch you tryna make a move on her again, you better believe these hooves are goin’ straight into your head.” Shindo was visibly intimidated, but he still tried to play like he wasn’t. “Is that a threat?” he whispered.

Kiri stepped beside Katsuki, crossing his arms over his buff chest. “That's a promise, horse face,” Katsuki simmered. “Now get out of here unless you want me to fulfill that promise right now.” Shindo looked between them and you, weighing his options. Then, with a huff and a swish of his tail, he turned around and galloped up the trail back toward the barn.

You relaxed against the tree, glad to be away from him. “You alright, Y/N?” Kiri worriedly asked.

You immediately stood up straight, realizing you were here with the farm’s favorite bulls, alone, in the apple orchard. Other than that, you also realized that Kiri said you name. They know your name. You cleared your throat, recovering. “Yeah,” you exhaled, dusting off your dress. “Thanks, but I could’ve handled that myself.” The two chuckled, the deep rumble of their laughter making your stomach flip. “Never said you couldn’t,” Kiri replied.

“You ain’t the only cow girl he’s tried to hit on here, y’know,” Katsuki added as he ripped off an apple from a branch above him. “He’s known for being a player and with you being a heifer, that only made it worse.” He bit into the apple, taking a big chunk out of the juicy flesh. “You should be more careful. Farm or not, you’ve got some creeps lurking around here.”

Kiri elbowed him, stomping his hoof. “Don’t scare her, Katsuki,” he hissed before giving you a reassuring smile. “He’s just being dramatic, cutie. Only thing you need to worry about is not ruining that pretty dress of yours.” You flushed at his words, not used to receiving such compliments, whether blatantly flirtatious or not. “Well, we’ve taken up more of your night, so we’re gonna head off.”

They began to walk off up the path, passing by you as they did. “You’re going back to the party?” you blurted.

Kiri shook his head. “Nah, not our style. Plus, it’s too nice of a night to be cooped up in a barn.” They turned around and began to leave you again like none of tonight ever happened. You found yourself wanting them to stay for a while, especially after that scare with Shindo.

“W-Well, if you want, I was gonna take a walk down the trails here,” you shyly said, piquing their interest. “You two are welcomed to join me, if you want.”

The bulls turned toward you, looking shocked that you even said anything. But then they each cracked a smile that knocked the air out of you. “A walk, huh?” Kiri chuckled. “We happen to know about some other treats down there the way the others don’t know about. But you can’t tell anyone.”

You nodded, signaling your silence. “Then let’s quit standin’ here and go,” Katsuki growled, already making his way down the trail though he stopped to wait for you to catch up. The three of you then begin to walk along the dirt trail, taking your sweet time among the summer air. “So you came last spring, right?” Kiri asked. “What was your other farm like, if you don’t mind me asking?”

There, while walking through the apple orchard, you talk to each other. You tell them all about your old farm and its beautiful daisy fields until your owner passed from their disease. They told you all about their past too, sparing you any sad details. You also talked about other things you liked and enjoyed, like spending your past time swimming by the lake on the hottest days of the summer and playfully arguing over snow (Katsuki hated the cold). With every conversation topic, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable with them.

Finally, you three reached the fruit orchard that was blocked by a couple of thorn bushes. Kiri pushed back a couple bushes to clear a path for you, revealing dozens of trees and bushes carrying delicious fruit. “Aaand here we are,” he chuckled. You gasped, your eyes widening at the delicacies that surrounded you. You began to totter through the fruit orchard, ogling at the peaches, mulberries, and… “Blueberries bushes?!” you squealed, gaping at the two bulls who watched you in adoration.

“And strawberry ones too,” Kiri added, picking a ripe, red strawberry from a bush. All for the picking. Some of the others know about this place, but are too afraid to come down ‘cause it’s too close to the road.” He picked another strawberry and plopped it Help yourself, cutie.” Flushing again from the pet name and his fingers brushing against yours, you took the berry and bit out of it. As soon as the sweet juice hit your tongue, you were in heaven. “Good, isn’t it?” he snickered, watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste, wondering how the strawberries got so sweet. “Mmm-hmm,” you hummed.

You turned to Katsuki as you chewed on the rest of the berry, finding him chomping on a handful of blueberries he picked. When he turned to you, you started giggle at the sight of blueberry juice all over his mouth. “What?” he growled.

Kiri began to laugh too, holding his stomach. “You’ve got some blueberry juice on your lip,” you giggled, pointing at your own mouth. Katsuki’s face turned a stark red as he went to wipe the juice off…but then he stopped. A crooked, mischievous smile suddenly pulled onto his lips. “Well, you gonna get it off for me?” he asked, obviously joking.

You didn’t know if it’s the full moon, the fruit, or the whiskey you drank earlier, but you were suddenly flooded with confidence that made you slowly walk over to him. His smile faded as you did, wondering what you were up to. You shocked both them and yourself when you reached out to slide your thumb across his lip and suck on the juice from the digit. Katsuki stared at you for a moment, silent. It was enough to make reality kick in for you.

“Sorry!” you gasped. “I-I don’t know why I did that! I-I…” You paused, feeling humiliating overcome you. “I…I need to leave.”

You began to turn around and quickly run up the trail, but Katsuki stopped you with a hand on your wrist. His eyes were fierce and intense like a raging, hot fire. “No,” he growled. “You finish what you fuckin’ started.” Before you could take a breath, he was yanking you toward him and pressing a rough, passionate kiss to your lips. His lips were soft and tasted sweet and tarty from the blueberries. One of his hands, rough from years of farm work, pressed against your cheek to deepen the kiss, the feeling of his touch making you dizzy.

You pulled away with a soft gasp when you suddenly felt Kiri push against you, feeling his muscles through his thin V-neck. His hands roamed over your hips while Katsuki busily kissed and sucked on your neck, no doubt trying to give you hickies. Your eyes fluttered at their ministrations, the feeling of them everywhere around you heaven.

“We didn’t wanna say anything after Shindo earlier, but we could never deny how cute you were,” Kiri whispered. His hands trailed up your arms to your spaghetti straps. He pulled one down to kiss your neck, his kisses sweet and less harsh than Katsuki’s. “We’ve wanted you for so long,” he groaned. “We always knew you were the one, but we never wanted to push you. If you want this, we’ll do anything you want from your command, sweetie.”

He paused his movements just as Katsuki did, his crimson eyes looking into yours. Neither one of them moved, wanting your permission before proceeding. The ball was completely in your court, and unbeknownst to them, you were ready to give them their winning score. You then turned your head to press your lips feverishly against Kiri’s, earning a moan of surprise. When you pulled away, his shocked eyes stared into yours, as gorgeous as the full moon above. “Yes,” you exhaled. “Take me. I want the both of you, too.”

Joyful smiles curled onto Kiri and Katsuki’s lips. Before you could even breathe, you were suddenly out of your dress, completely naked in the silver moonlight. For a while, the duo played with your breasts, kneeling down to suckle and lick against the hardened peaks of your nipples. You moaned and whimpered to the moon, only that, the stars, and the trees witness to your activity. You knew that eyes could be anywhere––from the passing cars on the street beyond the wooden fence; coming down the trail from the barn party––but you found yourself not caring. Truthfully, the idea of being caught with the hottest bull duo on the farm turned you on even more. Your fantasies got the best of you, and before you knew it, you were suddenly on your knees with Kiri and Katsuki standing over you. Both of them stripped off their shirts and pants, leaving themselves completely naked. Your eyes eagerly drank them in. You didn’t know where to look––at their gorgeous bodies illuminated by the moonlight or their big, fat, thick, veiny bull cocks hanging in front of you.

“Well?” Katsuki asked, raising a brow down at you. “You gonna put ‘em in your mouth or just stare at ‘em?” You didn’t need to be told twice. You started with Kiri’s cock first, popping him into your mouth while you eagerly stroked Katsuki, the pre-cum dripping down his cock making for some great lube. Then you switched, alternating between each of them with all the eagerness of a good little heifer slut despite how much your jaw ached. They were huge! However, the duo’s soft moans and grunts of pleasure egged you on, making you stroke a little harder and hollow your cheek out more.

Kiri adoringly stared down at you, watching you take Katsuki’s cock in your mouth. “You’re so cute, sweetie,” he breathlessly chuckled. “Look at you takin’ both of our cocks like a good little heifer girl.” Katsuki moaned in agreement, his crimson eyes blown with lust as he ogled down at you. “Bet you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” he grunted. “Havin’ us all to yourself.”

His hips began to slowly rock into your mouth, causing his fur to brush against your face and his heavy balls to hit your chin. You moaned around his cock, your jaw and hand burning from the constant work you were doing.

“Mmmm!” you replied. That was code for “hell yes, I confess”.

To make it clear, you opened your throat for him, allowing him to thrust into your mouth a little deeper. When you felt his cock nearly hit the back of your throat, you gagged. He grunted loudly as one hand moved to grip your hair. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good!” he groaned. “I’ve thought about fucking it so many times.”

Kiri snickered as he began thrusting into your hand, wet and sloppy with saliva and pre. “So much for romance, but even I’ve thought about that too,” he breathlessly confessed. "Guilty as charged. And she looks way more beautiful in real life than in my dreams.” Katsuki suddenly pulled his cock out of your mouth with a moan, his shaft wet with your spit. You gasped and caught your breath, your body hot and pussy wet.

Kiri stooped down to press a kiss to your forehead, his hand caressing your sweaty cheek. ”Think you can take us deeper, cutie?” he asked. You slowly nodded, your head dizzy and slightly winded. Though your jaw ached, you didn’t want to stop. You wanted to please them. “One at a time, now. And let us know if you need a break or if you wanna stop. Just give us a tap.” The redhead hybrid demonstrated, tapping his own thigh three times.

Then Kiri was sticking his cock in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. “Fuuuck,” he moaned, beginning to roll his hips into your hot, wet mouth. You gagged and sputtered around him, your pussy throbbing in time with his dick in your throat. “Mmm, like that,” he moaned. “So. Fucking. Good.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust that has your throat squeezing around him and your jaw begging for relief. Katsuki thankfully gave your hands a rest, opting for just jerking off to the sight of you taking Kiri.

Then Katsuki was next. His thrusts were rougher and faster as he fucked your throat, urging you to take him deeper down your throat until all you could taste and smell was him. “Yeah, just like that,” he urged, his grip on your hair tightening. “Deeper, sweet pea. Take me deeper!” You did so, whimpering as you expanded your throat as if to yawn to the best of your ability while he was still plunged in it. He looked down at you adoringly, the sight of it like a piece of heaven to you. “Good girl,” he moaned.

At this, you gushed all over yourself as you hugged your thighs tight against each other. Kiri noticed, stroking his cock to the sight of you on your knees with dick deep in your throat. “Ooooh, I think someone likes being called a good girl,” he chuckled. You suddenly felt his hand creep down between your thighs and moaned around Katsuki’s bull dick as they brushed against your sobbing, wet heifer pussy. “You’re leaking all over, cutie,” he tutted. “That just won’t do. All of that milk has to go somewhere.”

Katsuki took his cock out of your throat, ready for what was coming next. You took a deep breath and recovered, spit all over your mouth and chin. Kiri bent down to kiss you, never mind that you just had another cock in it. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected to your bottom lips. “Can we taste you, cutie?” he whispered against your lips. “And we’ll take turns.” He smirked up at Katsuki who looked ready to devour you.

You slowly nodded, your body begging for release. “Y-Yes, please,” you weakly replied. In the blink of an eye, you were sitting with your back against Kiri’s chest and Katsuki’s face stuffed in your pussy, your furry legs hooked over his muscular back. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you cried out, not at all afraid if anyone or anything might hear. You wanted them to.

Katsuki hummed appreciatively as he slurped eagerly at your cunt, his long tongue sliding in and out of your tight hole. “There’s so much here for me, sweet pea,” he huffed. “You’ve been wantin’ this too, haven’t you? You wanted this big tongue fucking your pretty pussy?” He continued on, alternating between sliding his tongue inside of you and up to your clit, sucking on it generously. You whined and squirmed against his mouth, not knowing which way was up and which was down.

Kiri slid his hands to your chest, proceeding to pinch and tweak your hard nipples. “Answer him, cutie,” he teased. “You may look hot squirming around like that, but that ain’t an answer he wants.” He pinched one of your nipples a little too hard, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to mingle and shoot within you. “Yes!” You whimpered. “I thought about this! I wanted this for so long!”

Kiri smirked, pecking your lips. “Good answer,” he praised. “Make her cum, Kats. I want this cute little heifer seein’ stars.” Katsuki’s crimson eyes peeked through the V of your thighs as his tongue thrashed against your pussy, pushing you over the edge. Your back arched and your voice rang out in the orchard, into the night. ”Cum for me!” Katsuki demanded. "Cum all over my tongue. Do it now!”

And like a good little heifer, you did. Your first orgasm of the night ripped through you, waves of bliss washing over your body as you came all over Katsuki's eager lips and tongue. Finally, he drew back and hungrily stared at you, his mouth shining with your juices. "Now it’s my turn, Kiri announced.

The two switched so now Katsuki was behind you while Kiri eagerly ate your sensitive cunt, moving at a slower pace than Katsuki due to you just cumming. But you didn’t need it slow. You needed it faster. You needed to get to that second climax. “Faster!” you begged. “Please, Kiri, go faster!” The redhead obliged, moaning appreciatively into your pussy as his jaw worked like it was overtime. Your hand threaded through his red locks while the other gripped his shoulder, moans and whines of pleasure dripping from your lips.

From above you, Katsuki suddenly moved to your side so the tip of his angry, red cocked was now at eye-level with yours. “Look at what you’re doin’ to me,” he growled as pre dripped from the head. “Just from that voice and this body.”

You didn't reply. You only leaned in and latched your lips onto his cock, sucking on the head. The blonde chuckled and stood on his hips for a better angle, beginning to rock his hips into your mouth. “You need more?” he cackled. “Such a little slut behind all that sweetness. Make her cum, Kiri. I wanna feel how tight her throat can get when she’s gushin’ all over your face.”

The moon shone in Kiri’s eyes as he looked up at Katsuki mischievously. “Mmm, my pleasure,” he purred. “You can cum for me again, can’t you, cutie?” He dove back in, his tongue fucking your hole until you were squealing around Katsuki’s cock. “Tell us more about how much you wanted this,” he demanded. “Tell us all about that dirty mind of yours.”

You were more than happy to. You wanted them to know all about the nights you’ve spent touching yourself in your pen, dreaming about them in your bed with you. Katsuki’s cock popped out of your mouth as you felt your orgasm beginning to peak. “I-I’ve wanted to touch you,” you moaned. “Wanted to taste you…wanted to feel both of you.”

You gasped as your second orgasm flooded through you, Kiri still eagerly licking your pussy and his hands gripping your hips. It was all so good. All too much. “I’ve wanted you to touch me too!” you babbled, delirious from the pleasure as your orgasm rocked you. “Taste me…breed me!” As soon as the words flew out of your mouth, you covered your mouth. Kiri stopped licking you and Katsuki paused from stroking his cock, both of them staring at you in awe.’Oh, shit,’ you thought, panicking. ‘What did you just say?’

“You…have?” Katsuki carefully asked, his brows furrowing at you in an effort to make sense of your words. You felt embarrassment flood inside of you, replacing the satisfaction and bliss of your two orgasms. “I…I…” You didn’t know what to say anymore. You were scared to even speak in fear of saying the wrong thing and scaring them off.

Kiri sat up between your thighs, stroking your stomach comfortingly. “It’s okay if it’s just a fantasy, sweetie,” he soothingly said. “We’re not judging. But if that’s something you want, you know that we’ll therefore be your mates.” Katsuki nodded, his fingers in your hair. “No other male could touch you,” he added, a fierceness in his eyes. “And we wouldn’t let ‘em.”

“Unless you decided we didn’t work out,” Kiri quickly added to not make you feel uncomfortable. “But even then, you’d still have our kids. Would you be okay with that?” The both stared at you expectantly, patiently waiting for your answer.

You were silent, your head spinning. Did you want that? Sure, the idea of being filled with their cum and their babies turned you on, but it was just that: a fantasy. Something that turned you on. You wanted to have children one day and finally graduate from your heifer status. You also wanted these two to be the ones to do it. But you had to be rational about this. There would be time for that later. “Maybe we’re moving too fast,” you admitted, still feeling foolish for actually craving this. “I want to get to know you two more.”

They both nodded though still gave you that eager look like they wanted you to say something more. You sat up to take their hands in both of yours. “But,” you continued, your voice breathless and airy, “maybe we can play pretend? And maybe I can still be your mate without the babies?” You peered up at them through your lashes, hoping they’d agree.

Their smiles were all you needed to let you know that your proposition was a definite hell yes. “I don’t see why not,” Kiri replied. “Whatever makes you comfortable, cutie.” You grinned happily, your heart soaring. Katsuki rolled his eyes, exasperated and extremely horny. “God, can we stop talking and just get to fucking her brains out?” he growled.

Before Kiri could respond, the blonde was helping you onto your knees, coaxing you into all fours. “I’m goin’ first since you were too slow,” he grumbled. Kiri just laughed, letting him take the lead. Your body trembled as Katsuki situated himself behind you, his big body nearly covering yourself. His hands gripped your hips while his cock pressed against your entrance that was dripping with anticipation down your thighs. He felt big even now. You knew it was going to be a stretch to take him.

Ready, sweet pea?” he asked, his gruff voice making you tremble. You nodded, biting down on your lower lip. “Let me know if it’s too much.” Then his cock was sliding inside of you, but just the head at first. Your mouth fell open on a gasp as you felt your pussy stretch around his girth. Thank God for those two orgasms. Katsuki didn’t move. He stayed completely still, waiting for you to give him permission to continue. After a few minutes of slow breaths and readjusting, you felt comfortable enough to take more of him. “I’m okay,” you squeaked. “Go ahead.”

He slid inside of you, inch after inch of bull cock filling your pussy to the brim. You had never felt so full before. It was an indescribable feeling, especially when he began to finally fuck you hard, rough, and fast the way you craved. The harder his hips slammed into you, the more your pussy gripped him. You were a moaning mess, your voice loud and your breasts jiggling as Katsuki pounded into you from behind. “Harder, ‘Suki, please!” you sobbed. “Fuck me harder!”

Kiri paused for a few beats, wondering if you were serious or real. “Don’t keep her waiting, Kats,” Kiri chuckled, his cock sitting against your lips. “Give her what she wants.” And the blonde did so. He gripped your hips for dear life, propped a leg up, and plunged his bull cock deeper into your soaking, tight walls that squeezed him tighter than a vice. “Such a good girl,” he grunted. “Takin’ this big, fat bull dick like this. Bet you’ve been thinking about me fuckin’ you.”

You sucked him in deeper and deeper, causing his cock to glide against your G-spot. You wailed to the skies above, in love with his cock. “Fuck, Katsuki!” you loudly sobbed. “Keep going! Don’t stop!” Kiri chuckled from in front of you, his wet cock sliding against your lips. “You’ve got another big, fat bull dick to take care of, cutie,” he chuckled. “Open your mouth for me.”

You did so, allowing his cock inside of your mouth. The two then began fucking you at the same time, thrusting into your tight holes in unison that had your body shaking and your mind going blank. Your pussy continued to squelch and clench around Katsuki’s cock, his balls slapping against your clit that was just about to explode. You moaned around Kiri’s cock and popped your mouth off of him, panting heavily.

“’S-Suki,” you warned, “I’m gonna…gonna…”

“Me too, darlin’,” he groaned. “Your tight little pussy is gonna make me cum.” He then reached over your shoulder to take your chin into his hand, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip.“You gonna take it?” he snarled in your ear. “You gonna take all this cum deep in your cunt like my good little heifer? You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, Katsuki, please!” you screamed as your orgasm grew nearer. “I’ll take it all! All of it for you!”

It didn’t take long for you to finally burst around his cock the way you needed to. You came with a long, loud moan that tears out of you as your third orgasm washed over you. The moment your pussy clenched around Katsuki’s cock was the moment he came too. He gripped your hips and swore to the heavens before he pulled out of your inviting, wet pussy. Only lewd sounds of his fist furiously pumping his wet cock were heard before a loud groan left his lips. “Fuck!” he bellowed as he finally burst all over your ass, coating your fur in his cum.

“Wooow,” he drew out, laughing. “That’s a lot of cum, Kats! I think you ruined her!” “Think you can take me too, sweetie?” he softly asked. Weakly, you nodded, wanting him too. “Good girl,” he praised. “Just get on your back for me.”

He then swung your legs over his broad shoulders and proceeded to slide his big, fat, hard bull cock inside of you, taking his sweet time and focusing on your body’s responses to him. “Gonna take you just like this,” he huffed as he began to thrust his hips forward, stroking your insides with his cock. “This is okay, sweetie? You still feelin’ good?”

All you could do was moan, whimper, and sob at the pleasure, too far gone to form words. “If you ain’t gonna use that mouth to speak, you could use it for something else.” You understood immediately and weakly opened your mouth, allowing him to use it as a personal fleshlight. “Atta girl,” Kiri praised as you sucked on Katsuki’s thick cockhead. “Such a good little heifer, aren’t you?”

You were. You were their good little heifer. You wanted to show them that more than anything, so you continued to hollow your cheeks to tighten your mouth around Katsuki’s cock and lifted your hips to meet Kiri's thrusts, brushing your clit against his pelvis. It didn't take long for your fourth (count ‘em; four) orgasm rose to the surface, threatening to spill over you.

You whined and whimpered around Katsuki’s thick cock, causing Kiri to plunge his cock inside of you a little bit faster. Katsuki leaned down, popping his cock out of your mouth. “You want Kiri to cum in you too?” he asked. “You want him to fill that tight pussy with his babies?”

You practically sobbed as your orgasm hit you, causing you to cum all over Kiri’s cock without giving you a chance to warn him first. “Please!” you cried out. “Please, please, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but Kiri continued his pace, moaning into the breeze as he chased his orgasm too.

Katsuki hummed appreciatively for your climax, stroking your hair out of your face. “And after he's done, you’re gonna walk around with our cum deep inside you,” he murmured to you, taking you deeper into this breeding fantasy. "And then in a few months, you’ll be all nice and big with our kids.” His lips pressed to your ear, kissing you below your earlobe. “You’ll officially be ours,” he whispered.

Kiri panted heavily from between your thighs, his cock swelling and throbbing inside of you, about to erupt. “Fuck, that’s so hot!” he groaned. “I’m gonna cum! S-so hard!”

Whines and moans left his pretty lips as his orgasm finally peaked. You almost were sure he’d cum inside of you until he quickly pulled himself out of you and pumped his nut all over your body. You weakly moaned as you felt his hot cum splash onto your stomach and titties, coating you completely in his scent.

Your eyes fluttered closed out of exhaustion and bliss, soft pants leaving your lips. For a moment, you thought of all of that cum inside of you, both Katsuki and Kiri’s seed mingling together in your womb until you were completely full with their babies.

‘Maybe some day,’ you thought, and you believed it. It was impossible not to think you could have some sort of future together, especially when the two began to clean you up. They could only use their shirts to sob the cum off your body, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

Afterwards, they both laid down on either side of you on the grass, trapping you between their big bodies. You laid your head on Katsuki's chest while your back pressed into Kiri's front. You were spooned from both sides, totally warm and comfortable. For a while, you just laid there in silence, enjoying the afterglow and the sound of crickets in the night. “That was amazing,” you finally sighed.

Katsuki nodded, his big chest rising and falling as his breathing evened out. “Mmm, you definitely were,” he hummed. You felt his big arm cradle your neck, his hand lazily playing with your hair. “We can't wait to have you again…and again…and again.”

He leaned down to peck your lips, slightly sucking on your bottom lip as he pulled away. “Because now you’re yours, sweet pea,” he whispered in your ear. “We’re never gonna let you go now.” His words made your pussy clench excitedly around air, wanting desperately to have all of those “agains” and loving the feeling of being theirs. And them being yours. You were even happier to know that tonight wasn't a one time thing––this was a sure thing.

Kiri pressed his lips to your shoulder, using one arm to prop himself up to look down at you. “How ‘bout we all go down to the lake for a dip?” he suggested with a smile. “After a good cuddle under the stars, of course. Just look at this sky!”

He nodded up at the inky black canvas above you that was coated in twinkling stars. “Wow,” you whispered, in awe at the beauty. A happy, content feeling twirled in your gut as you laid with the bull duo, arms and legs entangled.

You stared at the sky for who knows how long until the sounds of the crickets and swaying trees began to get you. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt Katsuki and Kiri both press their lips to your cheeks. Kisses goodnight.

“Rest now, mate,” Kiri murmured to you, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist. “We’ve got you now.”

You drifted off with a smile.

THE END.

#bnha smut #smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #my fic shit #my one shots #request fill #bakugou x fem!reader #poly kiribaku #kirishima x fem!reader #bull bakugou #bull kirishima

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cherryslyce · 1 year

Text

Enclosed To You | Regulus Black

Synopsis: To cope with your lonely marriage to Regulus, you begin to pen letters to him without the intention of ever sending them. As you both grow closer, you decide to continue the hobby until the very end.

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Notes: I got this idea just as I was about to fall asleep. This fic switches perspectives a bit, so I hope I blended it seamlessly.

Regulus Black prided himself in his innate ability to read through fake pleasantries, steel gaze rippling through any fool willing to throw in their chance at trying to deceive the young heir.

With the sudden void torn into his life at his brother’s department from the family, Regulus found his heart crystallizing to preserve what little warmth he had left of his childhood. Gone were the sunny days spent in ignorance bliss, now marred by the ricochet of his brother’s insatiable foolhardy nature.

Make perfect marks. The Noble House of Black will not be tainted by academic shortcomings

Bring pride to your house and win the Quidditch Cup, but be vigilant on the field. There is no use for a cripple as the Black Lord—no, the House of Black will never face such ignominy.

Never forget, there is no pity given for incompetence. Do well to remember the proper etiquette.

Condemn those who have turned against what we stand for—who have turned against our family.

Do not bring up that vile brat’s name.

Do better.

We did not raise you to be so fallible.

Toujours pur, Regulus. Do not forget yourself.

Do not fail us, do not desecrate everything we have worked for.

Be the perfect heir.

His mother’s words were imprinted into his head, carving themselves into every fiber of his being until not even a modicum of imperfection was plausible.

He would become the perfect heir.

He would ignore the burning ache in his chest that pried into his soul. He would squash the buds of hope that planted themselves into his head. He would sharpen his mind and hone his stone mask. He would dance with whoever his parents wanted, and he would pretend to care for what the other heirs had to say.

He would be what his parents expected him to be.

He would forget his dreams of being like his big brother. He would forget the needless longing for freedom.

Which is why he allowed his mother to do as she pleased – even now, as she finalized the contracts of his marriage arrangement.

It was a particularly bright day, the singing of birds drifted through the air and danced into the somber parlor. Regulus was intent on scanning through the paper in front of him as to avoid looking into his father’s expectant eyes, lips drawn together to hide his vexation.

You were a familiar face, and Regulus vaguely recalls you as a classmate of his, a quiet and diligent student. He hadn’t even known you came from a prominent family, and he was surprised that his parents would agree to the pairing as it was apparent that your family was neutral and not dark-aligned.

He almost allowed himself to frown; you looked unshaken by the arrangement.

Yet, he was barely able to contain himself from walking out. He was far from thrilled.

He would fulfill his duties, no more and no less.

He was not going to paint an illusion of love, and he hoped you would not be foolish enough to believe him desiring to provide as much.

With that resolve in mind, Regulus draws the quill into his hand and signs the contract.

The months flush by in periods of chill and gloom, sunshine becoming a rarity as Voldemort continued to infiltrate and pollute sectors of Magical Britain with his influence. Despite how stressful his studies were, Regulus carved time to research the growing support behind Voldemort and the benefits to joining the movement.

Regulus does not even wait until after graduation to be marked. It took a little nudge from his father to come to the decision, but Regulus has hope that perhaps Voldemort would be able to preserve the sanctity of blood purity and the immemorial wizarding traditions.

You vehemently disapprove of his decision, but Regulus pays little mind to your opinion on the matter. He would ensure your safety, and keep you away from Voldemort if that was what you wished for, but he would not turn away from his desires because of your opinion.

Inklings of hope for a warm relationship recede and wither by the sixth month of marriage. Regulus allows you freedom to wander about, granting you access to endless rows of grimoires, bottomless springs of galleons, tireless shipments of luxuries, and anything an aristocratic pureblood could dream of.

He gives you everything you want, but one. His heart is hidden in the unrelenting walls he’s constructed, dangling in the darkness as you bat around futilely in search.

It was only a few months after you and Regulus had graduated, and the marginal distance between you and the boy had hardly changed despite the fact that you were both living together now. Regulus threw himself into servitude under Voldemort, and he often was missing from the chilly manor.

You find hobbies to distract yourself from the suffocating loneliness and dejection that trail you like a shadow. Deciding to pick up a childhood activity of yours, you begin to vent all your suppressed emotions onto paper.

Regulus is faintly aware of your newfound interest in journaling. He catches you more than a handful of times with your head buried in a worn journal, quill flying furiously across the pages as you furrow your brows in deep concentration.

The heir is not sure when he started observing you so closely, but he is pleased by what he discerns. He admires your independence and proclivity for research, surprised by your ability to disappear for hours in a sea of books.

Regulus begins to consider his options after realizing you wouldn’t try and force him to play the role of a doting husband. It would be counterproductive to continue putting a wedge between the both of you, and he wonders if a friendship is possible.

He decides to spark up small conversations during your meals together to ease the tension.

At first, the chats are formulaic and polite, confusing you greatly as you observe the rigidness in the boy's frame. You weren’t sure what he was seeking to gain from your conversations since he seemed so stiff from just interacting with you.

“Regulus, was there something you wanted from me?” You don’t lift your gaze from your plate as you bite the bullet, curiosity getting the better of you.

The boy across from you tilts his head imperceptibly, “Not particularly.”

Regulus had never asked anything of you before, and you had assumed that he simply felt uncomfortable with directly requesting you for something. As you peer up at his confused face, you are left breathless as his expression reflects his youth, mouth tugged in a boyish frown.

You find yourself sitting up straighter, “Oh. Well, I’ve enjoyed our conversations thus far, so I just wanted to repay you.” Regulus’ eyes light up in realization at your remark, and you see him slowly consider his next words.

“No worries. I figured that it would be beneficial to grow accustomed to each other despite how unconventional our situation may be.” His diplomatic words are paired with a small nod, and you find yourself leaning forward in interest.

At the beginning of your marriage, you were deeply troubled by Regulus’ indifference towards pursuing a romantic connection, but as time passed, you grew to understand the situation. The marriage was solely for political reasons, and you could hardly complain since Regulus always treated you with respect and dignity. Secretly, you still held onto hope that he would warm up to you, but you knew how deeply affected he was by the disgracing of his brother.

Nodding in agreement, you feel a small smile grace your face, “How unexpected. I’m in agreement.”

From that moment onward, Regulus put forth an effort to get to know you, no longer barred by classes or personal reservations. The sudden feeling of companionship that warmed your body seemed to inspire energy into the dim manor, every room permeated with a newfound vitality.

Your practice of writing down your thoughts in your journal soon shifted along with this change. The leather book in your hand quaked faintly as you finished up the last lines of your words. Craning back to reread the page, you almost want to vanish it as doubt takes root in your stomach.

You had decided that you wanted to pen a small letter to Regulus, in part to express gratitude for his initiative, and also to perhaps become closer to him. As your eyes trail through the last line, you groan inaudibly as you feel your resolve crumble.

Your ‘From, Y/N’ seemed to taunt you and you quickly shut the journal, deciding against sharing the letter with its intended.

As the days waned by and summer dawned on Britain in rustles of wind and splinters of heat, you feel your friendship with Regulus slowly blooming like the azaleas in your garden.

The day brought mercy on the world as capacious clouds masked the heat of the sun, generously casting verandas of shadows around your manor. Regulus had been faring decently among Voldemort’s forces as he fed you tidbits of his progress, telling you that he was perhaps even considered as a potential member of the man’s inner circle.

You were heavily conflicted about Regulus‘ predicament, but you knew that there was nothing you could do to dissuade his goals. Regulus was mindful of your caution around the topic of Voldemort in general, and was careful to not let conversation stray too far into the topic of his duty.

Instead of constantly recounting his varying missions and commands, Regulus often spoke to you about your future goals and plans together, and reminisced of your times at Hogwarts.

“I was never invited to join it. I’m quite disappointed, it seemed like an interesting opportunity.” You reflect, keeping your steady pace as you stroll alongside Regulus. Since the day brought reprieve against the sun, you both decided to spend it outside in your gardens, admiring the hard work of your house elves.

Regulus chuckles quietly, hands clasped behind his back as he kept his gaze downcast on his shoes, “Trust me, you were not missing out on much. The Slug Club was mainly just a gathering for people to peacock around.”

Grinning widely, you avert your gaze to look over the treeline surrounding the perimeter of your grounds, “I see, and did you happen to flounce around and gloat as well?”

Regulus playfully shoots you a narrowed look, “I have no need to debase myself in such a manner. Now, Lucius on the other hand…”

Your laughter echoes around the garden, and you feel the stubborn glimmer of hope in your chest amplify.

You find yourself sitting in your study hours later, left alone in your thoughts as Regulus sweeps off after being summoned unexpectedly. Eyeing the item in front of you, you sigh and give in.

Summoning your quill and a pot of ink, you flip your journal to the next clean page, only briefly glancing at your abandoned letter to Regulus. Steadying your hand over the page, you begin to write.

Regulus,

Today we took a walk around the garden, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life. I’m glad that you didn’t immediately reprimand me for my undignified actions, and I’m pleased that our chats are a regular thing nowadays.

The flowers bloomed splendidly this season and I’m wondering if I should perhaps draw up some plans to remodel the abandoned wing of the manor. It gets boring when you are not around, and I swear I’ve already read everything in the library.

Narcissa has been owling me more often as of late, and we are both surprisingly content with our arrangements.

You’re currently off to meet your lord right now, but I hope you will return before nightfall.

Gratefully,

Y/N

Your third letter submission in your journal comes only a matter of days later. Regulus was slowly becoming more engrossed in his responsibilities, having officially been granted a spot in Voldemort’s inner circle. Luckily, he still found ways to make time with you and your friendship was growing stronger with every passing day.

Regulus,

Today you took me to the opera. I was quite surprised since I had only ever told Narcissa that I hoped to go again one day. I’m glad that the outing went well, even if you were bored half to death midway through (yes, I could tell).

You’ve been gone for a few hours now, but I still feel the rush of our trip even as I write this. It seems that you will be busier in the following days, but I’m happy that you are working towards accomplishing your objectives. I can only hope that you are not tasked with something too daunting, though I have no doubt that you would manage to overcome it in the end.

I haven’t told you the good news yet, but I received an owl yesterday from Gringotts that notified me that our request for the joint vault has been granted.

Mother keeps pestering me to get a check up from our family’s personal healer, but I don’t understand the rush. She gets fussy every year about our family check ups, and father is positively worn out by it.

Autumn is approaching, so cheers to many more seasons of friendship!

Your friend,

Y/N

It was to be expected, but you couldn’t help but worry. Regulus was alight with joy as he strided across the parlor room, a glass of firewhiskey cradled to his chest. You were sitting on the velvet chaise lounge, mouth perking up at the boy’s gleeful expression.

“So you accepted?”

Regulus spins on his heel and moves to sit across from you on the complementary lounge, setting down his glass on the table between you both.

“Of course. Kreacher will be delighted.” Regulus’ words are thick from the alcohol and he grins at your silent congratulatory expression.

You were proud of Regulus’ strides in the group, happy that others could recognize his talents and cleverness. However, you couldn’t suppress the worry that bubbled over in your mind. The closer Regulus got to Voldemort, the more danger he was in.

It was a narrow path he was venturing down, and you hoped that it wouldn’t push him out of your reach.

You didn’t want to spoil the mood and bring up that concern amongst other things, so you decided to write out your thoughts in your journal once Regulus retired for the evening.

Regulus,

I am overjoyed by your happiness and accomplishments. Though, I still can’t help but worry, and I don’t know if I’ll ever stop worrying. But, I trust in your judgment and I know you would never throw yourself into the path of an oncoming blade.

It is good to see your mind off of things that bring you so much sorrow. I know you didn’t notice, but I saw you burning letters from your mother a few dawns ago. I hope everything will be rectified on that front.

I saw my family’s healer earlier today while you were called away. I understand why my mother was so paranoid with our health, but I will stop from spilling such concerns onto paper in hopes that it goes away. I will have to be put on a strict potions regime inconclusively, but I feel stronger than ever.

I know you will be busy in the coming days, and I will pray for your safety from here.

Sincerely,

Y/N

Regulus is disoriented by the onslaught of emotions coursing through his body. At first, he attributed it to the joy of being initiated into his Lord’s inner circle, but he found that the feeling persisted even after then.

He didn’t want to acknowledge them, but he knew where they stemmed from.

You were much more of a force than he accounted for during the beginning of your marriage, and admittedly, he was too guarded to even consider befriending you until many moons circled by.

He couldn’t pinpoint when his feelings morphed from platonic concern to more, but he allowed himself to bask in the feeling. Since he now had a firm standing in the death eater circle, he could protect you better, and so perhaps allowing himself to indulge in his romantic urges would be plausible.

He knew you had concerns about his job, but he would never compromise your trust and wants by forcing you to follow his path. As he laid in bed, recalling your quiet chat in the parlor, he couldn’t tell if it was the thought of you or the firewhiskey that was causing his face to burn so fiercely.

He found that he didn't mind all too much about which it may be.

The next few days were hectic for the both of you, and you barely managed to find time to eat together at least once a day.

It seemed so sudden. The shift in your relationship went unspoken, but exchanged glances and hidden smiles became the norm between you both.

The tension of your blossoming feelings weighs heavy whenever you both lock eyes, the feeling of wires of electricity buzzing between your veins.

The bud of hope that sprouted in your chest all those months ago bloomed on a particularly windy night after Regulus finished up some paperwork. You found yourself wandering into his study with a small smile and a glass of water.

The boy shoots his head up to gaze at your approaching figure, eyes lighting up at your arrival.

“Finished for the night?” Your words are light and cheerful and you have to ignore the twitch of your fingers as you take in Regulus’ disheveled appearance. A large part of you wanted to reach over and smooth out his curls, but you resisted and opted to pass over the glass to the tired boy.

Regulus nods and twirls the glass appreciatively on his desk, “Fortunately, I am all caught up.”

You hum and lean against the desk, turning your back to him as you scanned your eyes over all the decoration and furniture you’ve already imprinted into your memory. The warm pool stirring in your stomach consumed your thoughts, and all the worries of the world seemed to melt away.

“Knut for your thoughts?”

Peering over your shoulder, you smile teasingly at Regulus as he leans back in his chair. His gaze seemed to penetrate right through you, eyes dark from fatigue and an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher.

“It’s going to take a lot more than a knut.” Your playful words have him chuckling and shaking his head.

You watch curiously as he pushes back his chair and rises from his seat, slowly rounding around his desk to stand in front of you. He quirks an eyebrow as you feel your face heating up at the close proximity, instinctively leaning back to peer into his eyes.

“Oh? How much will it take then?” He breathes out.

“Think you can afford it?”

Your heart stutters as Regulus leans in towards you, “You’ll find that I have quite a bit to spare.”

“I’m not swayed by money alone.” You retort quietly, desperately stopping your eyes from darting to his lips.

“I have much more to offer than just money.” Regulus steps closer and places a hand on the desk, partially caging you in between him and the wooden piece of furniture.

Tilting your head, you let your gaze drop down his face, “And here I thought you were a man of few words.”

Regulus leans in closer and drops his other hand to your waist, eyes finding yours in search of something. He seems to be satisfied by what he sees and brings his face impossibly closer, pausing to silently ask for permission.

When you don’t move away, he shifts to hold your waist tightly, “You’re right, I’m much more of a man of action.”

Your brain short circuits as Regulus’ lips crash into yours, conveying the pent up emotions that he’s been keeping locked away. You move your hand to grip his neck, pulling him to your body as his hand begins to draw circles on your side.

The world seemed to fade away as you spent the rest of the night in each other’s embrace, only breaking apart to share giddy laughter and loving smiles.

Regulus,

I suppose it has been a long time coming. I’ve never felt this way before, and frankly, it’s frightening. I think I understand what Narcissa means now when she says being around Lucius is like being enveloped in warmth, like stability and unrivaled fulfillment.

It’s hard to put into words how much everything has changed overnight. I’m excited to see what our journey ahead will look like, and I’m already missing having you by my side.

You’re not here today, and it’s given me some time to reflect.

Just as you will do anything to ensure our happiness and safety, I will do the same. It is frightening and I know you will hardly understand when the time comes, but I have confidence that everything will be okay in the grand scheme of things.

Love,

Y/N

A few days of bliss seem to drift by in honey-laced seconds, happiness and love drenching the manor’s atmosphere. You and Regulus were attached to the hip for many of those days, basking in each other’s arms and affection before you would both be separated by your tasks.

Regulus was in fact a man of action, often choosing to linger around you as you paced around the manor in an effort to redecorate. Words did not need to be spoken, and you figured it was fitting in that way.

You both never had to verbalize your feelings and intent to get the other to know. From the very beginning of your relationship to present time, it was always both of your individual actions that shone through.

Unfortunately, Regulus had to attend to his duties soon after. With much hesitancy and lingering embraces, your husband left with Kreacher by his side. You were left to continue with your plans, and you hoped that Mother Magic would be merciful to you both.

When Regulus returned in a storm of fury with an inconsolable, injured Kreacher by his side, you knew that something dire had occurred during his meeting with Voldemort. Your heart seemed to dunk into freezing water as Regulus shook in anger, barely containing himself as he told you what had happened.

You knew that Regulus would move the entire world and beyond for those he loved, and Kreacher was no exception to your husband. Hearing about Voldemort’s deception and indifference to the elf’s life had you hardly surprised, but equally incensed.

The day was marred by silent disbelief and anger, Regulus’ hurt at the betrayal palpable in the air even as dusk fell upon the manor in a sheet of grey.

You supported Regulus as much as you could in the following days as he came to terms with the events. You also nursed Kreacher back to health as Regulus began to hatch his plans, stubbornly refusing to tell you more about what occurred, insisting that it was too dangerous for you to know.

As soon as Kreacher was back on his feet again, Regulus asked for his help with his plans, leaving you to wander about. Deciding that lazing around was pointless, you decided to occupy yourself with your own plans as your husband locked himself away.

It was currently nearing midnight, but unlike the previous week where you and Regulus would retire and go to sleep in each other’s arms, you were both awake on opposite ends of the manor. Realizing that Regulus was still closed off in his study, if the sliver of yellow light steadily peeking from under the door were to give any indication, you decide to sit and write another letter.

Summoning a loose piece of parchment, you hastily race to write down your thoughts.

Folding up the finished letter, you traverse back to your shared bedroom and carefully place it down on your pillow.

Standing back to observe the paper, you hesitate to back away. A heavy stone seemed to weigh down your chest as you realize you need to draft up another letter, one that has you nearly hissing in displeasure.

Making your way to your study, you fish out your journal from your desk and tentatively sit down. The quill in your hand seems to hang over the page for hours before the fog clears from your mind, and you’re able to formulate a satisfactory letter. As you sign your name, you let out a shaky exhale before summoning one of your house elves.

“Bon, give this to Regulus if I don’t return by tomorrow evening.”

The house elf carefully reaches for your journal, eyeing you with a knowing frown. Tucking the journal against his chest, the elf peers up at you with sad eyes, “Bon will do as you say.”

Taking one last look at your bedroom and at your house elf, you make your way out of the manor, wand and cloak in hand.

In the whistling of the wind, echoed by the rustling of tree leaves, you noiselessly apparate away without turning back. The moon gleams down on the darkened manor, and the stars seem to fade away from the inky sky.

It takes Regulus five days after Kreacher’s near death experience to hatch a plan. His heart hangs heavy in his chest as doubt drills through his body like a fervent cramp. The door to his study cracks open with a noise of protest, and Regulus steps out for the first time in days.

The house is quiet, the dim light serenely pouring through the windows indicating that it was near dawn.

He needed to make a choice, one that he couldn’t go back on.

But as he wanders through the desolate hallway, a muffled pop stops him in his tracks.

“Bon? Where is Y/N?”

The elf gazes at the boy with shiny eyes and wordlessly extends a journal, one that he recognizes to be yours, out to him. Before Regulus can question the small creature, Bon pops away just as quickly as he came.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, Regulus continues on his journey to your bedroom, intent on holding you in his arms to distract himself from the world.

Regulus is hit with confusion when he sees your bed empty, sheets pulled neatly to emphasize its vacancy. Before Regulus can spin on his heel to track you down, his eyes are drawn to a piece of paper carefully folded on your pillow.

The contents of the note has him shakily sitting down on the bed, hands hurrying to open your journal.

Regulus,

I didn’t realize how bad it was. The healers are saying there might be a chance, but if you’re reading this, I’m afraid it was futile. As my previous letters indicate, the blood curse didn’t present itself until recently, but it’s been degrading my soul quite rapidly for a long time. I know this isn’t the explanation you want–the explanation you deserve–but I know very little about it myself.

I won’t lie to you. I’m scared.

I hope you never have to read this. I hope I made my way back home, cured, and ready to assist you with your plans for Voldemort.

But in case that doesn’t come to be, I want to make sure I leave something behind for you.

Even now, I’m unsure how to write out my feelings, but I need you to know that there was nothing you could have done to stop this. I made this decision because I didn’t want you to worry or suffer. It was selfish to hide the truth, but I would do it again if I had to.

But Reggie–Thank you for everything. Being with you was everything I hoped for it to be, and I’m so grateful that it was you I fell in love with. I know it wasn’t easy for either of us at the start, but you never made me feel inept or undeserving. Loving you has been the greatest privilege of my life, and I hope we can reunite one day.

Do not worry about me, I will be by the seaside somewhere. I've always wanted to see the ocean with you, it just seems like I'll be the first to get there.

Let’s meet again one day, my man of action.

Endlessly Yours,

Y/N

Regulus runs his thumb across the journal page one last time, eyes flickering across the swirl of words in front of him.

Looking up from your journal, he wipes away a stray tear as he turns his gaze upward. The crashing of frenzied waves had mist swiping across his figure every so often, but he could hardly focus on the droplets clinging to his face. Rigidly standing by the cliffside, he hardened his resolve.

He would dance amongst the waves with you soon, death eater duty be damned.

With a content stretch of his lips, Regulus enters the dark cave.

He knows he will not breathe to see another moon, but he’s never felt so unbound.

He was free. Free at last to walk away from his responsibilities and burdens.

So he walks.

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