CW: D/s dynamic, kink, explicit sexual content, 18+, nsfw, mdni
Tags/warnings: soft dom!jack abbot, brat/good girl!reader, D/s dynamics, power imbalance (but consensual), explicit age gap (reader is mid 20s, jack is however old he is), pet names (kid/kiddo/baby/princess), explicit daddy kink, disappointed Abbot, punishment, safe words, angst, sub drop, sub space, healthy communication, impact play, spanking, unprotected piv sex, breeding kink, after care
Summary: You don't mean to misbehave, but Jack still has to remind you of your place.
a/n: here you go, never say I don't give you nice things
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND, USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI OR USE AI TO TRANSLATE MY WORK. FUCK AI.
"Oh shit," you drop to the floor the second you catch his silver hair making its way into the ED.
Dana chuckles beside you, her gaze quickly snapping from you up to greet her friend.
"What're you doing here so early?" she greets Jack, slowly positioning herself between him and you even though she knows he knows you're right there.
He huffs, amused as he settles his bag down behind the counter, not daring to peer over so you can pretend to be safe a little longer. How thoughtful of him.
He shrugs, lips downturning into a frown.
"No use being home alone...y’know?"
Dana's mouth opens in a silent ah, your heart dropping into your stomach as you silently curse yourself for your earlier actions.
In all honesty, it wasn't like you were trying to upset him. Neither of you had to go into work until that night.
You were looking forward to a lazy day of makeouts and lazy sex, maybe a little bit of talking about your relationship when you were less hazy...but then Dana had called.
She needed someone to fill in for one of her nurses, switch shifts if you will. And of course you said yes. How could you ever leave her stranded like that?
It wasn't your intention to not wake Jack up. He just looked so peaceful, his breathing not even a little disturbed as you shifted out of his embrace, quickly getting dressed in your back up scrubs and gathering your things before you left.
You honestly didn't think for a second you were doing anything wrong. He would've done the exact same thing, hell, he'd done the exact same thing before, picking up shifts whenever he was bored.
Whatever shame quickly burns away into indignation at his hypocrisy. You're not sorry, not even for a second.
Before you can talk yourself out of it, you spring back up to your feet, ready to bite back at him.
But the second you do, he's nowhere to be found.
Your bravery quickly evaporates into a confusing mix between relief and anxiety.
What the fuck is he playing at?
“You okay, hon?” Dana’s quick to check in, snapping your attention to her.
You nod, too quickly for her sanity, but before she can press further, Perlah calls your name from the other side of the ED and you take the leap instantly.
The rest of your shift is a blur of mindless tasks, plastering on a phony smile when you’re with patients, and searching every oncoming trauma for him.
But you never get to interact, never even get to be in the same room as you. No, because Robinavitch keeps sending you to do other things.
It’s around lunchtime when you finally figure this is a set up, a punishment.
And you fucking hate it.
Your heart is beating rapidly. His indifference physically hurts, making you yearn for his anger, for anything else other than his silence.
You’re stationed at the hub when you finally catch him making his way to the break room. You glance around the floor before you stand up to follow him, closing the door softly behind you.
You know he’s aware you’re there with him from how he doesn’t even flinch, continuing to torture you with his silent treatment.
“Yellow,” you state, clearly and as confidently as you can, given just how close you are to tears.
His reaction is instant.
He drops his mindless task of stirring his coffee, turning towards you and swiftly grabbing a hold of your hands, pulling you into him tightly.
He shushes you gently, his lips a grounding force against your temple.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He mumbles against your hairline.
You shake your head softly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over.
“Don’t like it,” you manage.
“What don’t you like?”
“You ignoring me.”
He sighs deeply, pulling back to face you.
“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” He lets go of your hands to pull you flush against him, one hand tightening around your waist while the other combs your hair behind your ear. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“’s okay,” you whisper. “I know I was bad—”
“No, baby, no,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. “That’s not an excuse. I should’ve been clear from the start, not played games with you. Okay?”
You nod, hands tangling in his scrub top, grounding.
“You did such a brave thing, baby,” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “I’m very proud of you for telling me you were uncomfortable.”
You beam, glossy eyes brightening with an insurmountable amount of joy that honestly makes him go a little crazy.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he kisses you again, fleeting yet reassuring. “You’re gonna finish your shift and I’m going to keep ignoring you—”
You can’t help the whine the leaves your lips, causing him to smirk.
“I know, baby, but it wouldn’t be a punishment if you actually liked it, would it?”
You sigh. “I guess not.”
“Good girl,” he steps back, his warmth slowly drifting away from you. “Just a few more hours, okay? I’ll come find you later.”
You nod, feeling him peel away from your embrace, returning to his previous task as if you’re nothing more than another body near him.
It’s easier to deal with your shift, with the tasks at hand. His absence still lingers, a heaviness that settles over your heart but it doesn’t spill over because you know what it means, you know he’s not doing it to hurt you.
He finally graces you with his presence at shift change, cornering you as you replenish the supplies in north seven.
You feel him before you see him, his front pressed firmly to your back as you instantly still, a sharp jolt of electricity humming through your body.
"You're gonna go home," he murmurs against your ear, voice rugged and tugging on exhaustion. "You're gonna shower, eat, drink a lot of water, and you're gonna wait for me, naked, ass up towards our bedroom door."
His words have you gulping loudly, enough for him to smirk devilishly against your ear, his heavy use of words implying you’re now sharing a life together settling like rocks in your stomach, grounding yet…
"Is that clear, kid?"
You dismiss the thought, nodding while you focus on how terrified you are at the excitement that bubbles over.
"Yes, daddy."
"Good girl," he places a quick kiss to your cheek before he wraps your hand in his, the warm metal of his house key practically burning a hole through your flesh.
The second you take it, he removes his warmth, leaving you practically heaving for more.
You don't see him again as you do you walk of shame out of the ED half an hour later. You simply go through the motions, muscle memory carrying you as your mind reels with anticipation.
You're so aware of the tasks before you, the diligence in which you drive to his apartment, punching in the code to enter that he texted you, use the key to let yourself in.
You take a shower first, making sure to scrub yourself clean, washing away all the heaviness from having to work a day shift. Yuck. You honestly don’t know how any of them do it. Robby’s a good boss and Dana’s an even better one, but you miss the silly and goofy energy that comes from working nights, from cracking jokes with Shen, from flirting carelessly with Ellis, making fun of Park with Emery, exchanging recipes with Lena…and whatever the fuck type of intimate relationship you had with Jack before you made if official.
The lesson settles in your bones the second you exit the hot shower, the coldness of the empty apartment jarring.
“Oh.” You say out loud, your eyes darting over to the bed that Jack has so meticulously made up.
You think about how he must’ve woken up, alone and confused. He would’ve called your name and started to panic when he didn’t hear anything back. He would’ve rolled over, grabbed his crutches and made his way all over the apartment looking for you.
Tears blur your vision, chest heaving as you finally process everything that you were desperate to ignore.
You grab your phone, the lifeline you should’ve used earlier that morning but didn’t.
You press his contact, the line ringing twice before he answers. You don’t even let him get a breath in before you’re sobbing.
“I’m so sorry daddy,” you wail, choking on your tears. “I didn’t mean to— I didn’t even leave a note, who does that?”
“Baby,” Jack coos, soothing as much as he can through the phone. “I know, it’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.”
You can’t make sense anymore, a string of unintelligible words trying to form a sentence but you simply can’t.
He shushes you gently but it’s not enough. You can’t feel him, you need to feel him and he’s just not there. Exactly how you were not this morning.
Another wail escapes your lips as you slide down to settle on the floor.
“I’m coming home now, baby,” he tells you. “Stay on the phone with me, okay?”
You nod, letting yourself feel every single emotion without fear of him getting angry at you for it.
You try to picture what he’s doing right now, desperately anchoring yourself to the present because if you so much as think about the past…
No, you can do this, you can hold on. You hear him talk to Robby, apologizing profusely as the older man simply states his understanding. Shen and Cruz have it covered. Jack grabs his bag then, swiftly rushing out of the bustling ED.
“You still with me, baby?”
“Mhmm.”
“Good girl,” the door to his truck opens and closes. “Did you have dinner yet?”
You shake your head. “No.”
“Did you shower?”
“Yeah.”
“Good job, baby,” he praises, the truck engine starting as he puts his phone up on the stand beside the steering wheel.
“Would you like anything special for dinner?”
You don’t respond.
“How about some soup?”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Can we make grilled cheese too?”
“Of course we can, baby.”
“Thank you.”
“Always, kid,” you can hear the faint spark of his smile. “Where are you right now?”
“Floor.”
He chuckles, of course you are.
“Are you comfortable?”
“…yes.”
“I totally believe you.”
You roll your eyes.
“Get in bed, baby,” he commands. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
You groan, putting the phone on speaker as you pull yourself up. He listens to your cute little steps as you shuffle towards the bed, throwing yourself on the fluffy comforter with a huff.
“Good fucking girl,” he smirks.
“Still want me with my ass up?” You joke, playfulness returning as your tears dry on your cheeks.
He lets out a laugh, contagious and lively. “No, we’ll do that later, okay?”
You nod. “Okay daddy.”
“Why don’t you relax, get comfortable. I’ll wake you up when I get there.”
“Okay.”
Neither of you hangs up the call but you do as he says, sliding under the covers and burying yourself in his scent.
True to his word, you hear the front door open fifteen minutes later, his presence instantly livening the space.
You hum contently, sitting up on your spot in bed as you turn towards the door expectantly. You can feel him staring at your naked chest from the doorway as you stretch.
“Hi,” you mumble softly.
“Hi yourself,” he smiles. “Putting on a show for me?”
You chuckle, settling back down. “Is it working?”
“Always,” he steps up to the bed, still in his outside clothes so he doesn’t dare succumb to your siren call. “C’mon, lets eat.”
You take his outstretched hand, standing up in front of him in all your naked glory as he cups your cheeks with both hands, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.
You smile against him, your own touch quick to wrap around his wrists in response, eager to just keep kissing him, to feel him close to you.
“Don’t get greedy, baby,” he huffs. “We’ve got things to do.”
He’s quick after that, stepping back and striding to his closet, picking out a pair of his boxers and a basic white t-shirt for you to slip into. He diligently helps you get dressed, not wasting the chance to place kisses up your legs, causing you to giggle while you pull the shirt over your torso.
When he finally stands back up, he gives you one last kiss, directing you back out into the living room.
Dinner is quiet, comfortable. You sit at the head of the table, one leg tucked in front of you while the other drapes over his thigh. Your favorite grocery store tomato soup and homemade grilled cheese almost gone from your plate. He watches you eat like it’s the most interesting thing out there and you can’t help but feel the heat creep up over your face as he does.
“Is it normal for you to drop this much?” He asks you finally.
You take a sip of your water, pondering his question.
“It used to happen a lot in my last relationship,” you confess. “He…” you shiver at the memory and he feels it, his hand coming down to squeeze your foot reassuringly. “He was never consistent, always disappearing and then coming back with his affections tenfold,” you look up at him, the concern and sadness heavy in his gaze. “I think I’m still expecting that, you know? For you to disappear on me so I have to give you a reason to stay.”
He doesn’t react, only absorbs what you’ve just told him. He doesn’t like it, the heaviness that settles in his gut, knowledge being a curse and all.
“Thank you for telling me that, kiddo,” he starts. “I think we both need to be a lot more vocal with each other, huh?”
You huff a sad laugh, reaching for your water again. “Yeah, we do.”
He watches you swallow every last drop, a burst of pride blossoming, making his head feel a little fuzzy.
“Here’s how this is gonna work then,” he clears his throat, holding out his other hand for you to place your own within it. You do, no hesitation, your nails softly raking the skin over his wrist and palm soothingly. “We keep using our safe words,” you nod. “‘M still really proud of you for using them today.”
“Thank you daddy,” you coo, slowly falling into that comfy headspace again.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he catches you. You blink, confusion springing you back to the present. “When we’re talking like this,” he emphasizes with a squeeze to your foot. “I need you to try and stay present with me, okay?”
Your brow scrunches instantly. That’s an option?
“Yes, look at me.”
You swear you are, why is he being so insistent?
“I need you to be able to advocate for yourself, kiddo,” he explains. “We’re gonna work on it, on staying grounded outside of play. We have to talk about these scenes before we do ‘em, alright?”
You take a deep breath in. He’s right, you know he’s right. It’s definitely weird, a strange feeling to set boundaries with each other, to not be at the mercy of what you think he wants and instead be told so clearly what he actually wants.
“I will always take care of you, kiddo,” he reassures. “But there’s a time and a place to let go and have daddy take care of you,” you nod in understanding. “While we’re here, I’m Jack, do you understand?”
You swallow, your chest lighting up with a new type of desire.
“Yes, Jackie.”
“Good girl,” he smirks, absolutely and completely whipped. “And when we’re playing, I’m…?”
You beam. “Daddy.”
“My baby is so fucking smart,” it’s the rasp in his voice that pulls a moan out of you.
He chuckles darkly, meanly, pulling back from you.
“Now,” he slides his chair back, the screeching sobering you up instantly. “Take off your clothes, get on the bed, ass up and wait for me.”
You practically sprint out of your seat, flinging his shirt and boxers off your body, tossing them behind you as if to leave a trail for him to follow.
He takes a second to steady himself, the joy he’s feeling once again overwhelming. He focuses on the methodicalness of his motions, picking up the plates you left behind, rinsing them, putting them in the dishwasher, turning it on.
The machines hums to life, adding another layer of noise to the otherwise quiet apartment. He can her a tiny huff from his bedroom, a wicked grin spreading over his features satisfactorily.
He makes sure to be loud, to give weight to his steps as he walks down the hall towards you, picking up the mess you left behind as he does, a calming motion to calm himself down too, knowing exactly what’s waiting for him, how easy you could make him break.
And he almost does at the mere sight of you, spread out on your knees, your ass up just like he’d asked. He can see you shivering, can see the way you body practically beckoning him forward.
But he’s stronger than his immediate desires.
He will not let you win this easily. This is meant to be your punishment after all.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, the way the mattress dips making you gasp softly. He can hear your body shuffling, readjusting yourself as you impatiently wait for him to get it over with.
But the one thing you’re about to learn about him — he will never do something to just do it. No, he will take his time, dot his i’s and cross his t’s.
He pays you no mind as he folds the bottom half of his scrub pants on his right leg. He takes his time, diligently removing his prosthetic, hissing in relief as the offending contraption is removed and placed to his side of the bed. He rubs over his residual limb, thoroughly, making sure to groan in pleasure as he does.
He can feel you salivating, your head turning to face him as you force yourself not to leave the spot on the bed. He hasn’t told you to move and it doesn’t matter how much you want to help him out, want to take care of him, you also desperately want to be good for him.
After a few more minutes of torture, he finally get off the bed, grabbing his crutches off the dresser and makes his way into the bathroom.
The second you hear the water running you let out a whiny and bratty groan.
The waiting is the worst part. Anticipation gnaws at your insides, with every breath, every second that counts away from you. You stare at the door like it’s personally offended you, desperately trying not to fall asleep, not to move an inch, not to give him any more reasons to leave you high and dry.
He told you to wait and damn it, you are gonna show him just how easy it is for you to do that for him.
A burst of excitement flutters in your stomach again once the shower turns off. You count the seconds in your head again, picturing him drying off, putting on his night cream, brushing out his hair. You wonder what domesticity with him can be like, how he gets ready every morning and every night, what kind of toothbrush he uses, if he flosses or not.
Your fantasy is quickly snuffed out as the doors swings open and he turns off the light, plunging the entire room into darkness.
“Baby, be my good girl and turn on the lamp,” he tells you and so you do, never once leaving the position you’re in, simply extending your hand towards the nightstand and clicking the light on.
A soft, warm hue springs the room to life as he moves towards his closet, a towel wrapped around his waist. You stare at him with doe eyes, your cheek squished against the mattress.
“Close your eyes and look away.”
You huff, the show just starting to get good, but obey.
Relying only on your hearing makes everything a million times worse. You hear the doors open, clothes rattling, the unmistakable sound of pants getting pulled up, zippers getting fastened, shirts being pulled over torsos.
You’re practically buzzing, your body vibrating as you feel the air in the room shift, his warmth enveloping you whole, every single one of your senses in high alert.
Your skin erupts into goosebumps as a single finger grazes the back of your thigh. You whimper pathetically as he sits down on the side of the bed, his breath unbelievably close to where you want him the most.
His hands grab a hold of the meat under your ass then, kneading possessively as he settles down into his role.
“You did so well for me, baby,” he praises, hands distracting you from what you both know is coming next. “I’m going to spank you now,” you huff in relief, the uncertainty in the air lifting as his touch inches closer to where he’s going to strike next. “Three on each side.”
You nod against the covers.
“You’re going to count each one, thank me for them, and apologize for making daddy worry.”
Your heart is practically beating out of your ears now, the blood pumping so quick it’s making it hard to think. But nonetheless, you hum in acknowledgement.
“Yes daddy.”
“Good girl,” he leans down and places a kiss over your right butt cheek first, a reverent gesture to let you know this isn’t something he wants to do but rather something he has to.
His right hand lifts off your body and you suck in a breath.
You hear the smack before you feel it, the room being set ablaze by the noise. The pain is secondary, blooming from your backside both deeply satisfying and also a shameful reminder of what brought you here in the first place.
“One,” you huff meekly. “Thank you daddy. I’m sorry I made you worry.”
He places a kiss on the reddening spot, his warm hand coming down to soothe the sting away as he lifts his left one. Once again, your abdomen tenses as you await the inevitable. For this one, the pain sparks first, his wedding ring adding to the sting.
“T-two,” you stammer. “Thank you daddy…” you shift, adjusting your body before you continue. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up this morning.”
He continues his pattern, leaning down to kiss the spot and soothe it once more.
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “I know you didn’t mean to worry me.”
The admission hurts more than anything he could do to you physically, tears welling back up as your body inhales shakily.
“I didn’t, I promise I didn’t—”
He smacks your right butt cheek to cut you off.
You yelp, your body jerking away from him so he has to pull you back to where you originally were.
“Three, fuck,” the tears spring free then, your eyes blinking open to let them flow freely down your cheeks. “I really didn’t mean—”
The next one. Immediately.
You almost hit him with how much you’re moving around, but he’s prepared, his strong grip not faltering for a second.
“Yellow, oh my god,” you hiss, hands grabbing a hold of the comforter and squeezing as hard as you can. Jack doesn’t apologize, you know why he doesn’t. He needs you out of your head, needs you to understand he’s not mad at you anymore. But you can’t. As grounding as you want it to be, you’re still hung up on how awful it must’ve felt for him.
He shushes you gently, pulling you onto his lap and holding you close to him. He lets you sob in his arms, rocking you gently and peppering your face with kisses.
“I’m not mad, baby,” he whispers once you’ve stopped heaving. “I need you to know that.”
You nod against him, your hands playing with his now tear stained white shirt.
“I know,” you whisper back. “I just…I keep thinking about how scared you must’ve felt and…I did that. I made you feel that way,” you turn to face him finally. “I’m sorry.”
He looks down at you, nothing in his eyes other than pure gentleness.
“I forgive you,” he leans forward, nudging your nose with his own. “Okay?”
You smile at the gesture. “Okay.”
He presses his lips to your own, a sweet kiss for an even sweeter moment. Neither of you lets it go too far, it’s not meant to. Instead, you both pull back as he shifts you to straddle him.
“Two more to go, kiddo,” he reminds you.
“Two more.”
He smiles against your lips, his hands once again kneading the meat of your ass, the remnants of the previous blows already making your body ache.
“Ready?”
“Yes daddy.”
He gives you one last peck before his right hand lifts.
This time, the pain blooms with pleasure, your body finally processing the hit without the weight of shame.
A soft smile curls at your lips, causing Jack to mirror it himself.
“Five, thank you daddy,” you hum. “Next time I pick up a shift, I’ll wake you up so that you know.”
Heat explodes throughout Jack’s chest, his head buzzing satisfyingly as your words thrum through his heart.
“Thank you, baby.”
You beam up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers running through the base of his hair unashamed.
His left hand lifts and you don’t hold your breath. Instead, you grind down on his crotch, pressing your body closer to his chest. The second his palm makes contact, you moan.
“Six, daddy,” you pant. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, kiddo.”
You’re so gone, the delicious airiness making you feel dizzy.
You kiss him, slow and soft, like you’re trying to devour him with your sweetness. Such a well behaved girl. He’s beaming, every second with you, even through the hard parts, has honestly brought so much joy and hope into his life he’ll never get tired of it, of you.
“Feel how hard daddy is for you, princess?” He pulls you further into his erection, the roughness of his pants pulling a delicious moan from you. You nod dumbly against his cheek. “Make daddy cum, baby.”
You spring to action, sloppy movements endearing as you pop open the button of his jeans, the zipper the next one to go, practically salivating over him when you realize he decided to forgo underwear.
“Daddy’s naughty,” you giggle, taking him in your hand and giving him an experimental tug. His chuckle is broken into a moan as soon as you do, pulling himself further back into the bed so you have more space to get comfortable over him.
You waste no more time, spitting over his hard length to lube him up a little before you line him up with your entrance. He hisses the second his tip enters you, your hotness soothing him in a way he’s never felt before.
“That’s it, good girl,” he falls back onto the bed, his hands running up and down your thighs encouragingly as you sink down on him.
Your mouth hangs open as you do, brow furrowed in deep concentration, tongue poking out slightly from between your lips.
He snickers at the action, his pointer finger coming up to swipe at your tongue. Your mouth opens as he does, lips wrapping around the offending digit and sucking down as you take him all the way in, your clit settling nicely against his soft tummy.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans.
Smugness blossoms, causing you to roll your hips sharply. He loses the ability to speak quickly, so you keep doing it, over and over again until he’s a mumbling mess beneath you. You alternate between rolling circles and going back and forth before you lift up on your calves ever so slightly and start bouncing.
That’s when he loses all composure, a choir of moans and praises falling from his lips like ichor, gifting you new meaning to life, your own noises blending with his to give birth to a new religion.
His hands fall from your skin as he uses his forearms for leverage, his own hips thrusting up to meet your movements. You wail, your hands coming down to tangle in his clothes for support as realization dawns that he’s still fully dressed.
That simply won’t do.
Angry hands claw at his shirt, forcing the garment off his body so you can feel the hardness of his chest unobstructed. Possessiveness flashes through both your gazes as he leans up, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
“Touch your clit baby,” he commands, speeding up his movements as your ass bursts with the remnants of your earlier punishment.
You do as you’re told, the lewdness of skin slapping against skin pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Daddy,” you whimper. “‘M close.”
“Me too,” he grunts. “Just hold on f’me.”
You nod feverishly, clenching around him as he continues to pound into you.
“Daddyyyyy,” you whine, desperation bitter on your tongue.
“Not yet,” he warns. “Daddy cums first.”
You nod and nod and nod, clenching your abdomen with abandon. You’re so close, you just need him to let go, if you can just—
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he stills, falling back down on the bed and firmly pulling your hips flush against him, burrowing himself as deep within you as he physically can. His tip grazes your cervix, it hurts but all you can do is feel his hot spend fill you up, mark you as his, reminding you that you can finally cum.
You let go the second you feel his body shake beneath you, falling forward and pressing your body against his, seeking his warmth desperately.
Pleasure blinds you for a few seconds, your core bursting with electricity. You stay like that for a long time, both coming down from your highs together for the first time. Much like the night before, he refuses to let you go, keeping you locked together until you start to fuss at the stickiness.
He showers your face with kisses, thankful and grounding. When he finally rolls you over, settling you down on your back, he groans as he sits back up, pulling the nightstand drawer open to pull out a packet of wet wipes.
His movements feel like worship as he cleans between your legs, causing you to giggle from how overstimulated you are. You can’t help but stare at him in awe, plain and simple, gratitude for how you ever could’ve ended in such a loving place overwhelming.
He takes off his jeans, tossing them off to the side before he takes a moment to recenter himself. He takes a deep breath in, his body shivering in the process.
Without a word being uttered, you lift off the bed, shuffling towards him on your knees, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He exhales shakily, his own hands coming up to run down your arms.
You hum against his back, pressing sweet kisses up his neck.
“Thank you, baby.”
“Always.”
You detach yourself then, skipping off the bed and into the bathroom to pee before he scolds you for it. On your way back out, toothbrush in your mouth, you pick up the clothes he’d let you borrow, throwing them over your body.
You stare at each other for a long minute, the absurd high the two of you just shared slowly coming down to a nice lull.
When you reemerge from the bathroom a second time, all ready for bed, you help him up to finish his own routine. It’s all so domestic, the way he gets shy about being the one naked now, the way he does floss and pours a glass of water for you to drink, following suit right behind you, the way he holds onto your waist like an anchor.
Neither of you can fathom how you got so lucky. Call it divine intervention or just plain, dumb luck, the blissfulness you both feel is all consuming, and when you make your way back into bed after helping Jack put on some pajama pants, you instantly tangle together, stolen kisses and searing touches reminding you of just how neither of you wants this to end.
a/n: this chapter changed so much from the previous version I had whipped up and I could not be happier. let’s see how long i stay in this mood for (pray for me)
small a/n: happy birthday to me! here's a small gift from me :) im 25 today!!
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You sat at the table, quietly eating breakfast while Coco excitedly talked about something she'd learned moments ago. Tetia was laughing about Coco's excitement. Agott was pretending not to listen while secretly listening to every word. Richeh sipped her tea with a small smile.
That tiny ache in your chest only grew stronger. You lowered your gaze to your bowl.
Today was your birthday.
At least, you thought it was.
You hadn't really celebrated it in years. As a child, birthdays had come and gone like any other day. Sometimes your parents forgot entirely. Sometimes they remembered and offered a distracted "happy birthday" before returning to work.
Eventually you stopped caring. Or at least you convinced yourself you did. Birthdays were for people who mattered. Not for you.
You pushed the thought away and continued eating. Across the table, Qifrey watched you.
His visible eye lingered on your face for only a moment.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The day passed normally. You helped clean the atelier and ran errands into town. Everything was perfectly ordinary. You found yourself glancing at the clock more than once. Then scolding yourself for it.
What exactly were you expecting?
No one knew it was your birthday. You hadn't told anyone. Why would you?
As the sun began to set, the apprentices disappeared somewhere after dinner. Qifrey had vanished as well.
You assumed everyone was busy, so you climbed the stairs toward your room. Halfway down the hallway, a familiar voice called out.
"My, my."
You turned.
Qifrey stood at the end of the corridor. His white hair caught the warm evening light spilling through the windows. His pointed hat sat crooked atop his head, and his usual smile curved softly across his face.
"There you are."
You blinked. "Were you looking for me?"
"Perhaps." He offered his hand. "Would you come with me?"
You frowned. "...Why?"
His smile widened. "It's a surprise."
"That makes me trust you less."
Qifrey laughed. The sound echoed warmly through the hallway. "Fair enough."
Still, you took his hand. His fingers closed gently around yours. He led you downstairs. The moment you stepped outside, you froze.
Dozens of tiny magical lights floated among the flowers like stars or fireflies... or both.
Translucent ribbons hung from tree branches, one of Richeh's spells. A table had been set beneath the largest tree. There was food, drinks, and a cake.
Your breath caught. Everyone jumped out at once.
"Happy birthday!"
You nearly fell backwards from just being in shock and of course it scared you, all the yelling. Tetia laughed so hard she doubled over. Coco was grinning from ear to ear. Richeh waved enthusiastically. Even Agott looked pleased with herself.
Your mind completely stopped working. "W-What?"
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Coco giggled.
"What..." You stared. "What is all this?"
"It's your birthday," Tetia said.
"As if we'd ignore that!"
Your throat tightened. "But I never told anyone."
At that, everyone looked toward Qifrey. The witch simply smiled. He'd figured it out somehow.
You looked back at him. "When?"
"Several weeks ago." The man had apparently discovered your birthday and secretly planned this entire thing.
You stared at him. He smiled innocently. You narrowed your eyes. He smiled wider.
Suddenly, your vision was becoming blurry. You swallowed hard. "It's just a birthday." The words slipped out automatically. The same words you'd told yourself for years.
You regretted saying it immediately when there was silence. The girls all looked at each other worriedly. They were scared they did something, said something, to upset you,
Then, Qifrey stepped closer. His expression softened. "Perhaps." His hand rested lightly atop your head. "But I think the day you were born is worth celebrating."
The lump in your throat became painful. You looked away. "It isn't that important."
"It is to us."
Your eyes widened. The apprentices nodded. Especially Agott. Though she'd never admit it.
"You live here," Coco said.
"You're family."
Family.
Nobody had ever used it for you before. Your vision blurred completely.
And before you could stop it a tear slipped down your cheek. Everyone immediately pretended not to notice. His thumb brushed beneath your eye, wiping away the tear before it could fall.
"Ah." His voice was impossibly gentle.
You laughed shakily.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"...No, I don't." You really didn't.
Qifrey smiled. "Come now." He gestured dramatically toward the cake.
"We worked very hard on this."
"I mostly worked hard on this," Agott corrected.
"True."
"I decorated!" Tetia protested.
You found yourself laughing. The sound surprised even you. Qifrey sat beside you beneath the glowing lights. The celebration continued around you.
At one point the apprentices gave you handmade gifts, each crafted with obvious care and affection. Somehow, they felt more valuable than anything you'd ever owned.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Hours later, as the celebration slowly wound down, you found yourself sitting beside Qifrey beneath the stars. The others had gone inside. You looked up at the sky.
Then at him. "Thank you."
His visible eye shifted toward you. "For what?"
"You know what."
A smile touched his lips. "You're welcome."
You hesitated. "I never celebrated before."
Qifrey's expression softened. "I know." His hand found yours. "You deserved to."
You squeezed his hand. Your birthday didn't feel like an ordinary day. It felt important. Because someone had cared. Qifrey looked up at the stars. Then smiled at you.
witch master!qifrey x witch master!reader (fem) x watchful eye!olruggio
18+ MDNI :: 18+ MDNI :: 18+ MDNI
synopsis: qifrey planted the idea, piqued olruggio's interest, and you just happen to entertain the idea — there's something about sneaking around and the risk of getting caught like a bunch of teenagers just brings thrill and... arousal. wc: 1.3k content: a lot of pet names (darling, sweetheart, sweetie, babe, baby, sir), mean and bully orufrey (in bed), slight ooc(?), fem receiving oral, established relationships.
🍲 : first fic, kinda nervous. ended it short 'cause i wanna see how well received it's gonna be.
you don’t know how the situation escalated this quickly, the last thing you remember is wanting to relieve the feeling of being a teenager — be the troublemaker like the three of you used to be.
yet, how come you are being eyed like a prey? feeling small under the gazes of a fellow witch master along with his watchful eye.
“g…guys?” you manage to squeak out, gulping as you watch them ignore you.
olruggio and qifrey looking at each other, the brunette smiles at the other, “not a bad idea, i didn’t know you would catch on with what i have in mind.”
“i know that perverted mind of yours, alright” the white haired man snickers.
qifrey suggested a trio meeting for old time’s sake. as soon as olruggio was interested, qifrey knew exactly where to set the location.
you stumble back to a tree trunk, such a great timing for a situation like this, the sound made two heads snap in your direction. finally, their undivided attention at you.
“oh hi princess!” the nickname playfully slips out of qifrey’s mouth. god knows how much you missed hearing that.
olruggio was the first to approach you, as if a wolf ready to pounce on his meal, trapping you between his arms causing you to sit back at the trunk.
the scrutinizing eyes of qifrey, lips adorned with a smirk and olruggio on top of you.
the situation made you squeeze your thighs together involuntarily rubbing them ever so lightly, the friction helping with the heat pooling down there.
just like back in the day, qifrey’s there… silently observing as the other puts on a show.
“naughty girl, meeting two men at a forest this late at night?” the brunette shakes his head while clicking his tongue, “aren’t ‘ye a little greedy?” every word emphasizes with him tracing a feather touches on your exposed skin.
you turn your attention back at him, unintentionally batting your lashes. “awe, does our sweetheart think she can get away with this?” he cooes at you.
qifrey remains standing in the background, watching in amusement.
“i thought we’re only meeting and relieving memories while we wait for the sun to rise..?” your voice meekly a whisper.
the white haired man leans back at a tree, “we are relieving memories, my dear” he smiles at you.
olruggio’s lips begin hovering over your neck as he lets you face the other man. “don’t ‘ye recall this, darling? have ‘ye forgotten?"
shiver went down your spine as the two continue to recall the memories for you. olru places wet kisses along your exposed neck.
“woul’ be a pleasure to fuck those memories back” his hot breath lingering as he nibbles your ear. “ready to put on a show for us, sweetie?” olru asks as he switches positions with you.
dazed, you stand on wobbly feet in front of them, two pairs of blue eyes undressing you in their mind.
trying your very best to steady yourself as you wait for a command—anything from the two of them.
“strip” qifrey was first to demand from behind.
olru makes himself comfortable in front of you, leaning back with his hands, legs widely spread on either of your sides.
obediently, you begin to do as qifrey says but came to a halt when olru clicked his tongue yet again.
“c’mon ‘rey, we’re doing this for old time’s sake. that’s not how we used to do it… besides, did she not purposely look for another guy’s attention?”
olru continues his taunting as he mindlessly plays with the hem of your robe, “lil’ mischievous was looking at us while she shamelessly flirts with easthies at the ball.”
he fakes a frown as he looks up at you. you can’t help but gulp for the second time.
“that was not flirting!” quick to defend yourself, looking from the man in front and to your back “qi, please it was purely work-related.”
your pleas fell to deaf ears. both of them grinning.
qifrey crosses his arms and feigns thinking, “she did do that…” he holds out his palm quire, finishing a spell that effectively encloses the noises emitted from the three of you.
“naughty girls deserve to be punished. isn’t that right, darling?” his palm quire back in his pocket as he strides closer to you.
qifrey glances back at olruggio and utters “hold her back, babe.” as if on cue, your wrists were quickly bound behind your back as you spun around to face the white haired man.
qifrey now in close proximity, gently pushes you down on olruggio’s lap. quickly getting down on his knees in front of you.
looking up, qifrey basks in the sight of your oh-so-pitiful expression with olru’s smug face behind you.
qifrey teasingly tugs your robe down to your ankles ever so slowly.
“please please, qi, pleaseee” your pleas like a mantra.
you will never forget how mean they can get when you start acting like a brat or teasingly piss them off just to get a reaction.
a hum of satisfaction emitted from qifrey’s chest, watching as your folds glistens in the moonlight. cold air hitting your exposed body.
“play with yourself, darling” qifrey’s hand remains resting on your thighs. olru releases your wrists from behind, giddily peeking from behind.
you reach out to your folds, ever so obedient when they bully you in bed. “start with small circles, sweetheart” olruggio whispers from your ear, his beard tickling your neck.
doing as they command, a whine escapes your lips. you bite back a moan, feeling ashamed of your current state.
qifrey shakes his head as he watches your face, “that won’t do, darling. let us hear how good you can relief yourself,” qifrey says while squeezing your thighs.
“yes, sir” a wonton moan escapes your lips, olru’s hands begin kneading your breasts while kissing your neck, leaving small bites once in a while.
qifrey’s lips tugs in a smirk, “now we’re talking,” your hand, as if they have a mind of their own, continues their ministration.
“faster” olruggio’s firm command echoes your mind. your breath quickens, your circles getting rougher and sloppier.
you let out a sharp gasp as olru’s finger penetrates your hole, “don’t stop now, doll” his beard scratching your shoulders as he looks down at you.
whining at the sudden intrusion, your hands find their way to olruggio’s sleeves, tugging them as you continue. both of your hands working on your climax, “damn” qifrey’s eyes fixated on your hole that’s dripping wet.
wet noises echoes the enclosed space, “cumming” you manage to squeal out. qifrey swats both hands off your pussy, replacing it with his mouth.
desperately sucking on your clit like a hungry man, “thank you, baby” you moan out, fingers finding its way to his white locks.
your brain, all mushy from the happenings, did not quickly register olruggio’s mean words, “don’t let her reach it, babe.”
your hand begins to tug at qifrey’s hair as his hum causes a vibration on your clit. “fuck, i’m close” you breathlessly told them, hips unconciously thrusting up.
“i’m cumming, i’m cumming!” your pitch is getting high. qifrey abruptly pulls back, looking up at you through his lashes, olru snickers from behind you.
“fuck!” you expressed in frustration. “is that how you plead for your climax, princess?” qifrey leans to your thighs, smiling at you teasingly.
you crane your neck back at olruggio, trying to find an ally, “oh don’t look at me princess, you don’t deserve that climax after all that.”
being the brat that you once were—still is. you huffed and reached out to your folds, only to be stopped olruggio.
“and we can’t have it your way either, baby” he says while qifrey giggles.
This was out of motivation! Sorry if its bad, its my first smut!
(●´Д｀●)
Words: 1,551
Warning: p in v (Qif/Olly), p eating (Olly)
Smut, Fluff, curse word (OOC?)
Witch Hat Atelier Masterlist
Caught in the act
Qifrey:
Every day, you and Qifrey were busy with your schedule, especially when it came to the girls. You adored and cherished them, but they made it difficult for you and Qifrey to have some time to yourselves.
The few times you thought you finally got a moment alone with one another, it was always interrupted by one of them. It was like they had a sixth sense that told them exactly when you two tried to have a moment together.
“Master Qifrey!”
“Miss (Name)!”
“The spell knocked over the table!”
“Can we go to Kalhn?”
“I wish to go and practice outside.”
“Is dinner going to be ready soon?”
Some days would be so hectic that you would collapse straight onto bed after the day was finally dealt with.
However, today was different. Rain would be pouring down outside all day. Due to this, most of the teaching activities would be toned down to avoid causing any damage to the atelier. As the sky darkened, thunder would begin to rumble into the night loudly.
Eventually, the girls would head to one of their rooms. They wanted to sleep together in case one of them couldn’t sleep through the thunder.
The kitchen had fallen into a calm quiet while you and Qifrey were in there. He was reorganizing the pantry while you placed the last clean plates into the cabinet. Suddenly, you felt a pair of arms gently wrap around your waist.
Qifrey rested his head on your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple. “It’s nice to have you to myself for once.”
You smile in defeat, turning around to face him, “You just can’t wait, can you?”
Qifrey would start to place kisses on your neck before capturing your lips with a kiss that was filled with desperation, “Most certainly not.” He murmured against your lips, “Not when it comes to you, that is.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he gently pressed you against the counter. The two of you continued to kiss each other, each more passionately than the last. It’s been far too long since either of you had a moment like this.
Eventually, you had to pull away to catch your breath. “I think it’s best we go somewhere more private, no?” You manage to utter through your gasping.
Qifrey had a certain linger in his eyes, one you knew very well. "Certainly," he said with a smile.
The moment the door to your shared bedroom closed shut and locked, Qifrey wasn’t able to contain himself.
Your mind was blank as the room was filled with the sound of wet skin against each other, shameless moans and grunts, and the bed creaking echoing. The world narrowed around you two, solely focusing on each other. Qifrey’s hands explored your body as you lay beneath him, as his hips continuously thrust into you.
His gaze never left yours as he held you close. “So perfect,” he murmured, “Taking me so well.”
You couldn’t form a coherent sentence as you felt yourself reaching your climax. Your knuckles turned white from your harsh grasp on the bedsheet to stop you from sliding up due to Qifrey’s thrusts.
He felt your inner walls clench around him, “Just like that.”
Qifrey would lay kisses on your neck and shoulder, before taking your lips into his.
Exactly as you both nearly reached bliss, you heard a rustle, “Pwee?”
You and Qifrey froze, your breaths halted. Head snapped to where the sound came from, you see, it's the little brushbuddy. It looked horrid upon what was just witnessed.
Just a moment then, multiple footsteps could be heard approaching down the hall. Shortly, a knock on the door would be heard, “Master Qifrey? Miss (Name)?”
Causing both of you to hurriedly scramble off each other to find your nightly attire.
They just wanted the brushbuddy back in their room. After asking if they heard anything but the storm, they all answered no with confusion on their faces. You made a brief excuse that you accidentally knocked over stacks of books, feeling guilty that you thought you woke them up.
Once they left, relief washed over you and Qifrey. Thankfully, they didn’t hear anything due to the loud storm. It’s the last thing you two would want the girls to see or even hear.
Sadly, the same couldn’t be said about the poor brushbuddy.
The next day, you would be the one to awaken first. Changing into your attire to begin the day, you would lean down to press a small tender kiss on Qifrey's forehead before departing. As you proceeded on your way to the kitchen, you heard the noises of squeaks.
You arrived in the living room. To your surprise, Olruggio was lying on the couch. A rarity to see, due to him always being cooped in his chamber. There on his chest was the precious brushbuddy.
Yet, the brushbuddy was standing and waving his little paws in the air. While simultaneously letting out angry squeaking continuously.
Olruggio would watch, nodding along even when he didn’t understand, “Hm. You don’t say?”
Olruggio:
Olruggio always had his packed schedule filled, making it rare for him to have any free time. That involved time being spent with you. He was always busy with completing commissions, creating new inventions, and reporting back as the watchful eye of this atelier.
You’ve known this before you got into a relationship with him. But it still aches your heart every time.
The atelier had fallen into a calming silence. You tidied up the scattered books and paper from the lessons taught to the four girls. Qifrey had taken the girls with him. To where exactly? You didn’t know specifically.
The front door would click open and close. You turn to see Olruggio standing there with the same restless face.
You moved quickly on your foot to reach him, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Welcome home.”
“Where are the others?” Olruggio would rest his hands on your hips.
You smiled at the touch. It seemed like an eternity since you’d last felt his warmth against you. “Qifrey took the girls with him. They’ve been gone for around two hours, I’d say.”
“Yah don't say?” He said as his hands traveled behind the curve of your rear. “I’d say we should make up for the lost time, no?”
That was the final thing you could recollect.
Your shared room echoed with your moans and cries of pleasure. Your hand placed over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle yourself.
Olruggio raised his head from between your thighs, “Don’t go getting all shy on me now.” He removed your hand from your mouth. “It’s been far too long since I’ve heard yer pretty moans.”
He would return to pleasuring you with his tongue. Continuing, making you cum at least three additional times with his mouth alone. The tracking of time was long lost before then.
You heard Olruggio begin to disrobe himself, his garments scattering on the floor alongside yours that had been there since you entered the room. You felt him begin entering your aching walls.
His movements promptly increased with hunger and lust. Your poor cervix begging from his thrusts, “Damn.” He murdered, “I’ve missed you so much.”
In that moment, both of you were lost in the feeling of pure paradise bliss, forgetting the outside world's existence.
Until, unfortunately, an abrupt yet stern cough was heard, causing you both to freeze immediately.
Hesitantly, Olruggio raised his head, peeking over the hammock. There stood Qifery by the door, his arms crossed and a disgruntled look upon his face.
A bead of sweat appeared on Olruggio, “Uh…need something, Qifrey?” A hint of awkwardness in his voice.
“What you both do is none of my business.” Qifrey states in a serious tone, “However, I would not like for my apprentices to possibly hear such things. Or worse, stumbling upon it.”
Guilt swallowed you more quickly than embarrassment. You grabbed the nearest blanket, covering yourself before sitting up quickly. “Oh my goodness, we're so sorry! Did-”
Qifrey interrupted, “They’re not here as we speak. Thankfully, they’re with Alaira.”
You and Olruggio let out a sigh of relief escape you, he continued. “I used the windowway to grab something quickly. That's when I was able to hear your activities quite clearly.”
Qifrey would turn to exit the room, “I suggest next time you close the door and cast a spell to cancel out the noise for precaution.” With that, he shut the door.
The room had fallen into a deathly silence, neither of you said anything or moved. The tension in the atmosphere was so dense you could hear a pin drop.
Eventually, Olruggio opened his mouth to speak, but you struck him on the head before he had the chance to, “You didn’t close the door!?”
Olruggio rubbed the back of his head, “Oi!? I thought I did alright!?” He tried to defend himself, knowing it was a bad habit he had made.
Safe to say, you didn’t continue where you left off, embarrassment engulfing you both for the entirety of the day.
As days passed since the incident, Olruggio would take Qifrey’s word of advice, attempting to create a spell that would trap the noises of your activities.
╰┈➤ dms are open for requests - sfw& nsfw (｡•̀ᴗ-)♡
◍ synopsis: You accidently stay the night much to Qifreys amusement.
✎ word count: 1378
♡ characters: qifrey • reader
⟡ tags: sfw • suggestive themes • reader insert • spoilerish without going into details!
He is standing in the doorway while you sit on the windowsill, leaning against the frame of his private chambers. An area strictly forbidden to apprentices. Even the ever-watchful members of his atelier know better than to approach without invitation. It is an unspoken rule: Qifrey's personal space is not to be disturbed. And yet, somehow, you are the exception. A rather ironic one, considering your very existence would be deemed illicit in the eyes of the pointed hats. Yet here you are. Welcomed. Allowed. Perhaps even wanted. Qifrey would never admit that last part aloud.
But he loves the thrill of it. And so do you. The forbidden is enticing, after all.
"You're awfully early today."
You merely shrug before making yourself comfortable on his bed. Reaching over, you pluck a book from his nightstand and promptly remove the bookmark nestled between its pages. Offense is creeping up on his face. You grin.
"Oh, don't worry about me, dear Qifrey. I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself."
"I have a few more tasks to tend to." He says without acknowledging any ounce of what you just said, adjusting his glasses in a nonchalant way.
“I could help you?” It comes out more uncertain than you intended to.
“You know I want to keep you separated from my students.” For obvious reasons.
"After all, I take great responsibility in teaching within a certain moral margin."
It wouldn't be the first time you'd speak to his apprentices. Not that Qifrey knows about those encounters. Some secrets are harmless. Really.
"I will get going then. Keep quiet, please." By the time he returns to his work, you are already absorbed in his book again. Qifrey watches in horror as you turn yet another page with the bookmark tossed across the nightstand. He could make you make use of it, but he is a patient man and some battles simply are not worth fighting.
You glance at the clock on the wall. It’s been two hours already. Something between a sigh and a yawn escapes you. You could have completed half the tasks Iguin assigned you for tomorrow while you are wasting your time lying in his bed. In fact, you probably should have but you really didn’t want to waste your precious lifetime on anything else than Qifrey today. In your head the idea of arriving early so it would add to your shared time sounded entirely plausible.
You forgot about his responsibilities, though. Your master was far more relaxed. Once he left you alone for a week and you needed to await their return so he could undo the spell – to his surprise he was greeted by a frog residing in their brimmed cap. It was surprisingly comfortable, though. You are sure the discrepance in tending to responsibilities between pointed hat and brimmed caps teachers stems from teaching vastly different branches of magic.
Still, no sign of Qifrey. Your eyelids begin to feel heavy. There are certainly spells that would come in handy, but you really don’t want to turn his mood sour if he notices. Maybe some fresh air could be the solution. You get up, stretch your tired body and reach for the handle on the frame. The fresh air feels cold, yet soft on your skin and sends a shiver down your spine. You take off every unnecessary piece of clothing and crawl into bed, tucking yourself in. His book finds its way back into your hands. After a few more pages the words lose their sense to you, sentences begin to melt into each other and before you know it, sleep has its tight grip on you.
You don’t wake up when a certain someone enters his room unannounced, followed by a surprised look on his face. It certainly catches him off guard to see you sleeping so soundly. The faintest of smiles dancing on his lips as he removes the book lying on top of you, sliding the bookmark in between the pages where it belongs.
He takes off his glasses and ever so carefully lays down beside your resting body. Holding in his breath as to not disturb your slumber while he nestles himself under the thin blanket. The fear of the possibility of you leaving once you are awake is clear in his actions.
You wake up to birds chirping outside, the faintest of sun dancing on your skin and the gentle rays tickle your face. You open your eyes, but your brain doesn’t register the world just yet. You roll over to the other side trying to achieve a comfortable enough position to drift back into dreamscapes for just a little while longer. The realization comes suddenly like a jolt of lighting dancing around the deepest parts of your body. Cheeks burning and flutters in your midsection.
His face. Qifreys face. Barely inches away from yours.
You can’t move. You are stuck in a limbo of feeling utterly enchanted by his mere existence residing close enough to you that you can feel the calmness of his breath on your skin. He is truly mesmerizing. You can’t avert your gaze. His skin is like porcelain with the faintest glistening of sweat on his forehead, barely visible behind his silver hair.
To put into simpler yet deserving of him – he looks like an angel.
An ethereal being you are to share vicinity with. It’s almost comical. Someone as unholy with a past, present and future as sinful as one could live through is blessed to exist in the very timeline as him. Your fates intertwined with. Perhaps he was sent to put you on a righteous path, to cleanse you from the transgressions committed in your darkest hours. And when his eyelids flutter open with his sight now set on you, you remember exactly why you are connected by invisible strings. He too had submerged himself into the forbidden. There is a thin line separating desperation from violence. A fact Qifrey is well aware of and precisely why he imposed himself with certain boundaries to uphold a moral code that may differ vastly from his very own teachings but is entirely reasonable considering the circumstances. Committing taboo always comes with a prize to pay, after all everything in life is an equivalent exchange. It’s the duality of Qifrey you find utterly intriguing.
Qifrey says nothing. Not a single syllable leaves him and you are no better, even if you tried. You can’t shape the storm in your brain into anything resembling a coherent sentence.
You look at each other for a few more moments before he breaks the silence between you. “You are still here.” Four words that shake your world with the sudden realization that, for the very first time, you stayed until morning. You sit up, eyes darting around the room scanning the floor for your clothes to make a haste exit. A shaky apology escaping your lips.
Qifrey sits up, too. “Perhaps you misunderstood the intentions behind my words.” You turn your head to look at him. “This.” He gestures to you and him in bed creating a circle in the air, like a spell cast between you. “This is nice.”
A single “Oh” escapes you.
It has been an unspoken agreement between the two of you. You come at night, you leave at night. It’s enticing – chaotic, messy, sinful and an entirely forbidden experience for Qifrey. It’s thrilling. The fear of being discovered, his dirty little secret being exposed. It’s giving him an edge and you spending the night changes the rules to something far more alluring. The possibility of being found out rises exponentially and paired with the fact that he gets to have you for an extended period just seals the deal for him.
“From now on you will stay the night.”
You blink at him. Dumbfounded. It wasn’t a question or a plea. It felt like an order. A new venture on his behalf. A moral hazard. An uninsured risk. Qifrey is utterly insane to expose himself exceedingly to the vastness of the forbidden. Its grasp reaches further and far swifter than one could anticipate but perhaps it’s the thrill of the possibility of being entirely engulfed in a limbo of sin. A vicious cycle of vices and virtues, two hearts beating in a sole chest. After all, it’s his duality you desire.
butch!qifrey and her bratty pillow princess girlfriend ╱ mdni, stone top!qifrey, strap on usage ꒰ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
You've been all over her all evening, she was meant to be working but you had your ass in her lap and your tits pressed to her face. Qifrey can't lie with that, she's an easy woman and with a beautiful girlfriend like you, how can she retain herself from your beauty? She forces herself to do it because she really needs to finish this papers today, she's been delaying them because you kept pulling her to bed, your needy ass begging her to take you in all possible positions like you're an animal in heat.
But now, as sad as it makes her, she has to deny her girlfriend from attention for just a while. And you are not having it.
In your shared room, when she's in her desk writing, you are sprawled on the bed with just some cute panties and bra, bending over and arching your back just how Qifrey likes it. You tease your clit over your panties, rocking your hips into your hand and letting out the tiniest whimpers. You keep doing it, side-eyeing Qifrey who's acting like you don't exist at all, too focused in her work.
You get rid of your bra, now laying your back in the pillows and opening your legs as wide as possible, trying to get Qifrey to look at the wetness spreading in your panties. Once again, nothing, just the sound of Qifrey's pen against paper.
So now you slide your wet and ruined panties, snapping the fabric between your fingers so it shoots right into Qifrey's face. She startles when your panties land in her cheek and looks at you with your panties fisted in her hand.
"Did you just throw your panties to my face?" she says, trying to sound calm but she's definitely tired of your bratiness.
You just smile, getting on your knees fully naked, nodding fast. "Yup."
Qifrey's eyes narrowed, exhaustion and heat cracking through her calm. She stood up slowly from her desk, the chair scraping back as she tossed your ruined panties onto the floor.
"You've been such a brat all night," she muttered. "I told you I needed to finish this. But no, you just can't help yourself, can you?"
You grinned up at her from the bed, still on your knees, but she didn't smile back. Instead, she walked over to the drawer where you both kept your toys, pulling out her biggest strap-on. The thick glass gleamed under the lamp light and your stomach flipped with anticipation. Qifrey strapped it on without another word, adjusting the harness around her hips while you watched, biting your lip.
"Get on all fours," she said, pointing to the edge of the bed.
You scrambled to obey, heart racing as you arched your back and presented yourself to her. She climbed up behind you, one hand gripping your hip while the other guided the fat head of the strap right against your slick entrance. She didn't tease or warm you up this time, you did it all by yourself, actually you were so wet already that it was embarrassing. She pushed in deep in one smooth thrust, filling you up so completely that you gasped and clutched at the sheets.
"Fuuuuck, Qifrey baby…" you whimpered, pushing back against her already.
Her hips snapped forward again and again, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room along with your needy moans. The strap stretched you perfectly, hitting that spot inside you with every rough stroke. You were babbling in no time, whining her name like a prayer, your body trembling as pleasure built fast and hot. "Please, don't stop nghh ah! I'm so close, baby, please so so close…"
Qifrey's hand slid up your back, pressing you down harder into the mattress. She fucked you through it relentlessly, until your thighs shook and you were right there on the edge, a whiny mess ready to fall apart. Your walls clenched around the thick toy, chasing that peak.
Then she stopped. Just like that.
She pulled out slowly, leaving you empty and throbbing, a broken sound escaping your throat as you tried to chase her. "Qifrey! Nooo, come back…"
But she was already stepping off the bed, wiping the strap casually before tucking it away. Her breathing was a little heavy, cheeks flushed, but she sat back down at her desk like nothing happened.
"That's what you get for not letting me work in peace," she said, picking up her pen again. The papers waited for her and she focused on them with stubborn determination, even though you could see the way her thighs pressed together under the table.
You collapsed onto your stomach, still panting and desperate, your body aching for the release she had stolen. "You're so mean," you whined into the pillow, but there was a smile tugging at your lips too, because now you get more time to bother her.
a/n: i'm already getting requests of butch!qifrey and that makes me so fucking happy
helloooo! i'm new to wha, just watch the anime and starting manga and just finished volume 5 (but a little spoiler is okay, i always found the theory after all 😂)
btw can i ask for qifrey x childhood bf!reader where reader is also apprentice of beldaruit?
(optional) i have an idea in my head that reader is has memory erased and then beldaruit adopted them
(might be too restrictive, i really apologize about that but the plot and story is up to you! love your works ♡)
🌟
I've loved you ever since
Qifrey x reader
cw: brief spoilers/hurt w. comfort/ memories erased
AN: I saved this request up for a special time in which I wanted to write comfort. To love someone requires you to grow and allow yourself to be vulnerable - letting someone hold your heart in their hands and trusting them to not break it. Thank you anon for this request!!! ❤️❤️
The first thing Qifrey noticed about you was that you never looked at the stars.
Not because you disliked them, nor because you could not appreciate their beauty, but because whenever your gaze drifted upward, a strange melancholy settled over your face—as though some invisible thread deep within your soul had been pulled taut. As children, when the two of you sat upon grassy hills with your legs dangling over cliffsides and your spellbooks forgotten beside you, Qifrey would point toward constellations and invent stories about them. He would grin brightly, all clever eyes and boundless curiosity, while you listened with a small smile that never quite reached your eyes. "It's strange," he once told you. "When I look at the stars, I feel like they're calling me somewhere." You had laughed softly then, brushing your shoulder against his. "And when I look at them," you whispered, though you did not know why, "I feel like I've forgotten somewhere." Neither of you understood the weight of those words. You were only children then, apprentices wandering toward futures neither of you could yet imagine.
Years later, after countless lessons and shared adventures, the truth remained hidden even from you. You belonged to Beldaruit's household now, his adopted apprentice, his ward, his child in every way that mattered. Everyone assumed that was where your story began. A lonely child discovered and taken in by the great sage. A fortunate coincidence. A second chance. Yet there were moments when fragments stirred beneath the surface of your mind like fish gliding beneath frozen water. Faces with no names. A hand reaching for yours. A voice calling to you from somewhere impossibly far away. Every time you tried to grasp those memories, pain bloomed behind your eyes and the images dissolved. Beldaruit would notice your discomfort immediately. He would place a gentle hand upon your head and redirect your attention elsewhere. His kindness was genuine. His affection was real. Yet there was always something sorrowful in his gaze whenever he looked at you, as though he carried a burden he desperately wished you would never have to bear.
Qifrey, however, saw things others missed. That was both his greatest gift and his greatest curse. The older he became, the sharper his instincts grew, and the more frequently he caught glimpses of that sadness surrounding you. It lingered in the spaces between your smiles. It hid inside your silences. Sometimes he would find you staring at your own reflection in a stream, touching your face as if trying to recognize a stranger. Each time, his chest tightened with an ache he could not name. Because by then, friendship had long since become something deeper. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, between shared lessons and stolen conversations beneath moonlit trees, Qifrey had fallen hopelessly in love with you. It happened so gradually he hardly noticed until it was already impossible to undo. The realization arrived one evening when you laughed at one of his ridiculous jokes. The sound was bright and warm and familiar, and suddenly he found himself thinking: I want to hear that for the rest of my life. The thought terrified him. It also felt more natural than breathing.
The truth emerged unexpectedly. Such truths often do. A forgotten document hidden among ancient archives. An old spell seal bearing a symbol neither of you recognized. A name. Your name—not the one you knew, but another. Older. Lost. Buried beneath years of carefully maintained silence. The discovery sent shockwaves through every certainty you possessed. Questions multiplied faster than answers. Who had you been before Beldaruit found you? Why had your memories been erased? Why did the records surrounding your existence seem deliberately obscured? Qifrey remained beside you throughout the investigation, refusing to let you face it alone. Yet as more fragments surfaced, he began noticing a terrible change. You were becoming frightened. Not merely curious or confused. Frightened. Every new revelation chipped away at the foundation of the life you had built. Every answer threatened to unravel the person you believed yourself to be. One night, unable to bear it any longer, you broke down completely. "What if I'm not me?" you asked through trembling breaths. "What if everything I am belongs to someone who no longer exists?" Qifrey stared at you for a long moment before pulling you into his arms. His embrace was fierce, almost desperate. "Then I'll love every version of you," he whispered. "The one you were. The one you are. The one you'll become. It doesn't matter."
Eventually, the confrontation with Beldaruit became unavoidable. The old sage listened quietly as questions poured from your lips like floodwaters breaking through a dam. For a long time he said nothing. Then, with visible reluctance, he revealed the truth. You had not simply lost your memories. They had been removed. Not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. Long ago, circumstances connected to forbidden magic had placed your life in danger. There were people who sought knowledge buried within your mind. Knowledge so dangerous that allowing you to remember could have destroyed you. To save you, Beldaruit had made an impossible choice. He erased those memories and raised you as his own. Every day afterward, he questioned whether he had done the right thing. Every smile you gave him became both a blessing and a wound. Because he knew the child before him was alive because of his decision, yet he also knew he had stolen something precious. The confession left the room heavy with grief. Beldaruit's voice shook for perhaps the first time in centuries. "I would make the same choice again," he admitted quietly. "And that is what shames me most."
You wanted to be angry. Part of you was. Yet standing there, seeing the regret etched into every line of Beldaruit's face, you found only sorrow. Because you understood. Love was not always gentle. Sometimes it was desperate. Sometimes it made monsters of good people. Sometimes it demanded impossible sacrifices. Tears slipped down your cheeks as you stepped forward and embraced him. The old sage froze. Then his arms slowly wrapped around you, and for a brief moment he looked less like one of the greatest witches alive and more like a father terrified of losing his child. Across the room, Qifrey watched silently. His chest ached at the sight. There was pain here. Loss. Mistakes that could never truly be undone. Yet there was also love, stubborn and enduring despite everything. Perhaps that was what mattered most.
The memories eventually returned—not all at once, but gradually, like dawn spilling across a dark horizon. Dreams became recollections. Forgotten names resurfaced. Lost emotions awakened. Some memories were beautiful. Others left you weeping long into the night. Through it all, Qifrey remained at your side. He listened when you needed to speak. He sat quietly when words became impossible. There were evenings when you would wake from nightmares and find him waiting outside your door, as though some invisible thread connecting your hearts had alerted him to your distress. Neither of you acknowledged how extraordinary that devotion had become. There was no need. Certain truths transcended language.
The confession happened during spring. Flowers covered the hillsides in waves of white and gold, and the world seemed suspended between endings and beginnings. You stood together beneath a flowering tree whose petals drifted around you like falling snow. Qifrey had rehearsed countless speeches. Elegant speeches. Clever speeches. Romantic speeches worthy of stories. Yet when the moment finally arrived, every prepared word vanished. All that remained was honesty. "I've loved you for years," he said. "Before the memories returned. Before any of this. I loved the person I knew, and I love the person you've become. And if tomorrow you discover another forgotten piece of yourself, I'll love that person too." His voice trembled slightly. "I don't care how many versions of you exist. They're all you." For a heartbeat, silence stretched between you. Then tears gathered in your eyes. Not from sadness. Not from confusion. From relief. Because for so long you had feared being divided by your past. Feared becoming a stranger to yourself. Yet standing before Qifrey, you realized something simple and beautiful. You had never been fragmented at all. You had always been one person carrying many stories.
When you kissed him, it felt less like a beginning and more like returning home. The wind carried flower petals through the air. Sunlight spilled across the hills. Somewhere far above, stars waited beyond the daylight sky, unseen but eternal. Later, much later, you would still remember that moment. The warmth of his hands. The softness in his eyes. The way he smiled against your forehead afterward as though he had finally found something precious he had been searching for his entire life. And perhaps that was true. Because despite erased memories, despite grief and secrets and lost years, some bonds endure beyond forgetting. Some loves survive even the reshaping of identity itself. They linger quietly within the soul, waiting patiently for the day they are recognized once more. And when Qifrey looked at you then, seeing every version of your past reflected in the person standing before him, he knew with absolute certainty that no spell in the world could ever erase what his heart remembered.
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hi ! i was wondering if youd write platonic / familiar fics for qifrey ? like teen reader seeing qifrey as a father figure or smth similar ? :)
Father figure
Qifrey x reader
cw: slight angst honestly it's just comfort though/abandonment issues
AN: no this isn't a Taylor swift reference - however, this idea is wonderful anon can I please have a piece of your brain?
You never meant to start calling Qifrey "home."
Not out loud, of course. You would have died of embarrassment if anyone heard that. But somewhere along the way, between shared breakfasts and late-night study sessions, the word had quietly settled inside your heart. It happened so gradually that you never noticed the change. One day he was your teacher, strange and brilliant and impossibly talented; the next, you found yourself measuring safety by the sound of his footsteps in the hallway. The atelier felt different when he was away. Larger. Emptier. Like a house missing its foundation. You hated admitting it, even to yourself, but the truth was simple: Qifrey had become the closest thing to a parent you had ever known.
The mornings were your favorite. Before the younger apprentices woke, the atelier existed in a rare state of peace. Sunlight would spill across wooden floors while Qifrey stood in the kitchen preparing breakfast. You often joined him without invitation, half-awake and wrapped in a blanket. Sometimes you would sit on the counter while he worked. Sometimes you would lazily sort ingredients. Neither of you spoke much. There was no need. The silence felt comfortable, softened by the crackle of the stove and the scent of tea. On particularly sleepy mornings, your head would slowly begin to droop until it landed against his shoulder. Qifrey never commented on it. He would simply continue stirring whatever he was making, one hand absently resting atop your hair as if the gesture had become second nature.
You noticed things about him that others didn't. The way he always checked the weather before anyone left the atelier. The way he quietly repaired damaged clothes before apprentices noticed they were torn. The way he pretended not to see when someone took extra dessert, only to make more the next day. Qifrey cared in small ways. Consistent ways. The sort of ways that became invisible if you weren't paying attention. Yet those were the moments that affected you most. They reminded you that love wasn't always grand declarations or dramatic sacrifices. Sometimes it was simply remembering who preferred extra blankets during winter.
One rainy afternoon, you returned from an errand soaked from head to toe. Before you could even apologize for tracking water across the floor, a towel smacked directly into your face. You pulled it away to find Qifrey staring down at you with an expression halfway between amusement and exasperation. "Did you walk home through the ocean?" he asked. "I thought about it," you replied. "That explains a lot." His response was immediate, effortless, and familiar enough to make you laugh. Minutes later you were seated beside the fire with dry clothes and a steaming cup of tea. Watching him fuss over whether you were warm enough should have been annoying. Instead, it filled your chest with a strange, aching tenderness.
The feeling frightened you sometimes.
Because there had been a time when you stopped allowing yourself to need people. Needing people meant losing them. It meant pain. Yet somehow Qifrey had slipped past every wall you built without either of you realizing it. One evening, while helping him organize books, the realization struck with startling force. If something happened to him, it would break your heart. The thought left you quiet for the rest of the night. Qifrey noticed immediately, of course. He always noticed. But when he asked what was wrong, you simply shook your head. You couldn't explain a fear you barely understood yourself.
A few days later, Qifrey found you asleep at a desk after staying up far too late studying. You woke briefly when he lifted a blanket over your shoulders. Through heavy eyelids, you watched him adjust a nearby lantern so its light wouldn't shine directly into your face. It was such a small thing. Such an ordinary thing. Yet tears unexpectedly stung your eyes. Because no one had done things like that for you in a very long time. Qifrey paused when he noticed your expression. For a moment, concern flickered across his face. "Hey," he said softly. "What's wrong?" You opened your mouth, then closed it again. The answer felt too vulnerable.
The confession eventually slipped out by accident.
You were sitting together outside one evening, watching the sunset paint the sky gold and pink. The younger apprentices were inside finishing chores. For once, the world felt quiet. Peaceful. Safe. Qifrey was talking about something completely unimportant when you interrupted him without thinking. "Thank you." He blinked. "For what?" Your throat tightened unexpectedly. You looked away. "For... all of this." The atelier. The meals. The concern. The patience. The thousand tiny acts of care. Words failed you. After a long silence, you finally whispered, "For making this feel like a family."
Qifrey didn't answer immediately.
When you risked a glance toward him, his expression had softened into something almost unbearably gentle. There was sadness there too, hidden deep beneath the warmth. The kind carried by people who understand how precious family truly is. Slowly, he reached over and ruffled your hair. The gesture was familiar enough to make you groan in protest, though neither of you missed the affection behind it. "You don't have to thank me for that," he said quietly. "You're part of this family already."
Years later, you would remember countless adventures and lessons, countless spells and journeys. Yet the memory you treasured most would remain astonishingly simple: evenings spent in a warm house filled with laughter, the smell of tea drifting through open windows, and Qifrey's voice calling everyone to dinner. Not because those moments were extraordinary, but because they weren't. They were ordinary in the most beautiful way possible. And for someone who had once believed they would never truly belong anywhere, that ordinary happiness felt nothing short of miraculous.
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this idea started with my thoughts about emma’s hard limits, but then i actually thought given emma’s reaction post assault, dana being the one to have these limits made more sense to me and was also more interesting to write so…
notes: references to emma's assault, kink negotiation, mention of collaring
dana's heart sunk to her stomach. there she was, standing in front of her bed, the comforter only slightly askew from the brief bout of shuffling around as she made it in a rush this morning. emma sits on the edge of the mattress, looking up at dana with those wide, trusting eyes. dana's normally steady hands tremble.
they’d been talking about new things to try in bed, which was usually a fun bit of foreplay. they were very compatible, and both were willing to try anything at least once.
but then emma mentioned something that sent an unpleasant shudder down dana’s spine.
choking.
dana’s faced a lot. has stayed calm and commanding in the face of the worst and saddest moments of humanity. she likes to think she copes well with most of it. at least a bit healthier than some of her coworkers, (though maybe that bar was too low to count.)
“dana?”
emma’s voice snaps dana from her thoughts. she clears her throat and tries to play it off.
“sorry, sweetheart. got lost in thought for a sec.”
“are you okay?” emma asks, lifting her hand up to touch dana’s. dana lets emma interlace their fingers.
“yeah. yeah ‘m fine.”
“we don’t have to do that.” emma doesn’t even say what that is. “I’m sorry for mentioning it.”
“jesus, don’t apologize. not your fault.” dana sighs and sits down next to emma. she brings her free hand up to emma’s soft cheek, fingers caressing gently. “i know you’re not fragile. I’m just scared of hurtin’ ya.”
“you wouldn’t, there’s safe ways to do it and i trust you—“
“i know, i know.” dana sighs. she closes her eyes for a moment, before meeting those pretty brown eyes again. “I just don’t think i can do that without thinkin’ about that day. that bruise on your neck, the fuckin’ noises you were making when you called for help…”
emma leans forward, touching their foreheads together.
it haunts dana. emma knows. she sees the way dana seems to prickle whenever a man of the same build or demeanor is near her. always on guard.
sometimes dana wonders why emma brushed it off so easily. was it for dana’s sake? or had the girl faced worse before?
despite hating pity, dana prays that it’s the former.
“that’s okay. like i said, we don’t have to.” emma’s voice is soft, but sure. steady. and, bless her heart, she diverts the subject so that dana can’t ruminate any longer. “you mentioned you bought a collar…are you comfortable tugging on it?”
dana lets out a soft laugh, amused and eternally grateful for her clever girl.
Summary: You're happy. You have a lovely home, a wonderful husband and four bright girls. So, why does Olruggio suddenly make your heart race? And why does Qifrey not seem to mind?
Pairing: Poly!Qifrey/Reader/Olruggio
Genre: Romance, Drama, Hurt/Comfort
Tags: qifrey is a freak and olruggio has a panic attack; multichapter, Established Relationship, polyamory, love confessions, major character injury, accidental love confessions, angst, hurt/comfort, original characters used as plot devices, reader is seen as a mother figure, cross-posted to AO3, no beta cause i post for fun and for free
Word count:
Rating: T/M
chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3
You’d woken alone, Qifrey already pulled into something early this morning. You’d felt him slip from the bed, kissing you chastely on the cheek with a soft ‘good morning,’ before slinking out of the room. When you’d finally pulled yourself from bed, groggy from sleep and wishing nothing more than to crawl back into it, you heard him rustling in his work room. You didn’t see the need to disturb him.
“And what do you four think you’re doing?” you asked now, standing in the living room. You pulled your morning robe tighter around your frame before crossing your arms as you patiently waited for the girls’ reply. They were crowded around the record player, heads tucked close as if forming one big brain was going to solve their problem.
“Nothing!” Coco squeaked. Tetia stood with her back to the player and her arms spread like she was hiding a secret.
“Are you sure?” You asked.
“We were trying to fix it.” Richeh said, still poking at the wood.
“And did you?”
“No…we can’t figure it out.”
“That’s alright.” You couldn’t ether. They were charming, the four of them. They knew how important the thing was to you and they were always so eager to help that they’d try and meld their minds together to come up with a solution. A trait you were so happy they continued to nurture. They’d need each other, even when they thought they wouldn't. They would. Always.
But right now, there were other pressing matters to attend to. Like feeding a small herd of children and two grown men.
“Let’s focus on that later, hm? How about breakfast?”
Tetia bounced on her toes and skipped to the kitchen, the others followed. They went to their respective stations, moving around one another like a song, melodically weaving under arms to reach low cabinets, spinning to avoid crashes. It’s practiced.
You’re used to this and, well, you loved it. To be able to do anything with them was an honor and you cherished every moment they chose to spend time with you. Even if it was as simple as cooking breakfast in the morning.
“Girls, did any of you lose your palm quire?” You asked as you cracked eggs into a bowl for Coco to whisk. Richeh, elbow deep in a bowl of dough and Agott with flour on her cheeks, shook their heads no.
Coco popped up for a second, thinking, but paused, “ah, no, I don’t think so?” You could see her racking her brain for where she last left it. Honestly, if anyone was going to lose theirs she was the likely culprit. Too much excitement left her scatterbrained.
“Yours is on your desk, Coco.” Agott said casually. Coco beamed, “oh, you’re right! So, it wasn’t me.” She went back to whisking, you casually added spices to the mixture.
“Tetia?” The girl was facing away from you, dividing fruit amongst 7 bowls. She stiffened and turned, cheeks filled with fresh strawberries. She wasn’t supposed to be eating them yet. You playfully glared at her, placing one hand on your hip.
“Ah—um,” she gulped, “no?” Her fingers were stained red from the juices.
“Tetia!” Agott said.
“I’m sorry but they smelled so yummy!”
“No more Tetia, we need to make sure everyone gets some.” You said, chuckling.
“Yes, ma’am…” She dropped the strawberry into a bowl, counting to make sure each one had an equal amount.
“Is the palm quire Master Qifrey’s?” Coco asked, “He was looking for it the other day.”
“I found it,” Richeh said. She took the dough that Agott had rolled and slowly pushed it into the oven. The bottom of it was glowing from a soft flame. A contraption Olruggio had made to make managing the temperature easier. You watched her hands, ready to say something just in case.
“Ah, okay, nevermind then.” Coco said.
The girls didn’t pry into your inquiry so you let it die naturally. When Coco was done with her eggs she waddled over to the stove top and poured them into a pan. Richech watched her and they spoke quietly as Coco scrambled the mixture.
You tried to push down the unsettling fact that the palm quire was none of theirs so you moved to set out the plates. Yes, keep your hands busy so they don’t start to tremble.
Typically, a palm quire will have a name or a symbol stitched into the back cover to help identify the witch it belonged to. Like a cap was a calling, so was a quire. It was common for a witch to customize it and you knew the girls loved to cover theirs in embellishments. The palm quire Senaka gave you negated any personal touch but at the root the lack of personalization was not the issue. The problem with Senaka’s delivery was that the last page of the book had a complex spell that none of your children would have or should've known.
They were symbols you were even unfamiliar with and you hoped, somewhere deep down, that it was just a misplaced drawing. You’d have to show Qifrey and Olruggio. Coco was already toeing the line. When Qifrey brought her to you, you’d at first been on Olruggio’s side. Sending her to the Knights was the only option, but when you saw her, terrified and confused, you knew you were going to have to fight tooth and nail to keep her safe.
BUt, if this was another forbidden spell, you couldn’t risk it. They’d take her away, even if she technically wasn’t involved.
You heard the door to Qifrey’s study open swiftly and Olruggio’s step soon echoed his. When had he snuck into the room with him? He was usually comatose at this hour. They both came scrambling into the kitchen. They pawed for toast and pieces of sausage, popping a few bites of fruit in their mouths as they simultaneously tried to secure their cloaks around their shoulders.
“Woah, where are you two off too.” You asked. Breakfast together was a tradition.
“Great hall called,” Olruggio said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice to wash down his frantic meal. “Oxen trampled a village. We’re the closest.”
You followed them as they descended the stairs. Qifrey was placing his cap on his head when his eyes caught your worried face. “It’s alright, no one is hurt, but a farm house collapsed and there are people trapped inside.”
“Girls!” Qifrey called. The four of them popped up, heads floating above the stone divide. “Personal lessons today, work on your lines and keep a steady hand.” They saluted him.
“We’ll be back by lunch,” he said gently. He pressed a hand to your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss. The gesture was soft and reassuring.
“You better be,” you said.
“Ready, Olly?” The dark haired man grunted, swinging a satchel of supplies over his shoulder.
“Lead the way,” he said. Qifrey stepped out first, waving goodbye. You grabbed his wrist and brought close for another peck to the cheek. Habit, really.
As Olruggio passed you, however, you also grabbed him. He jolted, “Oi—!”
You pressed your lips to his cheek in the same way you did to Qifrey. You both froze. Your lips tingled from the scruff that decorated his face. Your eyes searched his.
Olruggio broke the awkwardness first, clearing his throat. “Right, well, see you later.” He said before he scurried out the door like his ass was on fire.
“Bye, be safe…” The words fall from your lips slowly. What was that? Qifrey was far ahead and Olruggio caught up to him swiftly. You watched as he immediately started a conversation but you caught his eye when he glanced back at you. You looked away, face warm.
You closed the door with a quick, ‘click’ and tried to ignore how girls scrambled back to their stations. By the stars, why did you do that?
They don't make it back by lunch but you’re not worried.
The girls finished their practice for the day so you now found yourself relaxing in the field outside the atelier. The sky was clear and vast and three of the girls were playing down by the trees. Richeh's reflective ribbons catching your eye every so often. You had a book in your lap but you were using it as a shield, the palm quire tucked between the binding. You stared intently at the seal that covered the last page. A water sigil? Maybe? No, not fluid enough. Earth, it looked like. Despite its complexity it'd been drawn quickly, the ink lines weren’t even and the weight of the sigils together leaned more to the left. There was an inch long gap that kept it from activating.
The grass swayed hypnotically, the wind was low and sweet, but did nothing to ease the tension in your neck. You sighed and slipped the palm quire into your front dress pocket, buttoning it closed to ensure it stayed on you.
You reached down at your side and ran your fingers through Tetia’s hair while she napped. Her body was curled against your hip, soaking in the warm afternoon sun. The contact settled her and every time she shifted you would repeat it.
The laughter from the others suddenlt fell off and the silence made you look out in the distance. Your breath hitched and you yanked your hand away from Tetia. She blinked blearily at the sudden disturbance, “Wha?”
You weren’t, generally, a fearful person. Raising four girls instilled a specific level of calm in you, whether you wanted it or not. When you panicked, they panicked, so you learned quickly that controlling any form of fear or anxiety was crucial.
Right now though, you couldn’t hide that fear as you watched the new body in the field approach your girls.
Senaka was towering over Coco, talking to her. She had her arms tucked close to her chest, shrinking in on herself as the man stepped close. He's trying to hand her something but she’s vehemently declining.
You stumbled to your feet and bolted down the small hill to your child.
“Hey!” you yelled. They turned to you. Coco’s shoulders shook as she shifted. She felt so far away, and your legs were so slow. She fought through the grass like it was pushing back at her before she anchored herself to your side, swinging around your hip to hide behind you. Her shaking hands grasping your waist. Senaka straightened.
“Hello, again.”
“You need to leave,” you said. You don’t care why he’s here, you don’t care what he wanted or how he kept finding his way back. He just needed to get off your property.
“Coco, get the others and go inside.” You said, not looking down at her. You felt her nod, reluctant to release you, before turning heel and rushing to find the girls.
You waited until their trails fell silent, the grass no longer disturbed by their movements. It's a stand off with Senaka and you're the one to fire first. “I won’t repeat myself.”
“I was simply passing through.” He said casually.
Your first interaction was strange, yes, but easily brushed aside, the palm quire was a warning, and this was a threat.
“You stay away from me and my children, do you understand?” He looked like he was going to say something else, but you don’t give him the chance. You knew you wouldn’t be able to handle him on your own. You needed Qifrey and Olruggio. Your best bet was to get away.
So you did.
You turned your back to him, you knew you shouldn’t have but you weren’t going to entertain whatever sick thing he was doing. The march home felt longer than it was, and you wanted to look back after each unsteady step but you didn’t.
“You think you can replace them, don’t you?” Senaka called. The wind picked up and dark heavy clouds started rolling in. “Their mothers.” Your march lost its rhythm, but you continued on.
Thick droplets of water hit the top of your head and rolled down your neck. You glanced up, the sun was engulfed by a sudden storm and there were cracks of lightning in the distance.
“That girl is worth more than you know!” He sounded like he was right next to you even though you were steps away from your front door. You were drenched to the bone, hair plastered to your cheeks and skirts dipped in mud.
Right as your hand reached for the door, there was a heavy whisper in your ear, “Give her my gift, will you?”
When you touched the knob the voice faded and only the storm rumbled up above.
The girls didn't question you when you stumbled back inside. They didn’t ask where the picnic blanket was or where your book had gone. You left that in the field, abandoned, to be consumed by the storm or taken by Senaka. You didn’t care what happened to it.
You sat on the couch, hands trembling. From the cold or your fear you don’t know. Maybe it was both.
"Um..." Coco said your name. Your head jerked up, your eyes like saucers. It took you a moment to realize that Coco was speaking to you. She’s holding a towel in her hand, with a twisted look of concern and confusion on her face. “Here…” she held the towel out to you, encouraging you to take it. “Master Olly’s door is locked, I couldn’t get the link rings…”
You reached out with jerky fingers, pulling her into your chest, the towel caught between you. Your cheek rested on the top of her head. “Are you hurt?” you asked.
“N-no,” she stuttered. You heard her sniff, “who was that?”
“I…I don’t know, Coco.” You let her pull away from you, she brought the towel to her face to stop the tears that bubbled just below the surface. The front of her clothes are damp and you pressed a hand to her cheek, “What did he say to you?”
“He had a palm quire,” she whispered, “he tried to give it to me. B-but I kept thinking about when I got the book the first time, and something felt wrong. So wrong. I-I didn’t take it I swear!”
“Oh, sweetheart…” You cooed, “I know you didn’t.”
You took the towel from her, “nothing is going to take you from us. Do you understand? Nothing.” Coco nodded, whimpering and rubbing at her eyes. Your heart sank. The three of you had been trying so hard to keep her from spiraling. With the Knights Moralis constantly checking in, Olruggio’s status as a watchful eye, and the Brimcaps chasing her, Coco was living life in a state of anxiety induced limbo.
“Do you understand?”
“Y-yes.” She nodded again, sniffing. You pat at your neck with the towel and stand, unsticking yourself from the fabric of your seat. The other girls were watching you from the opposite of the atelier. You opened your arms to them and the three barrel into your embrace. Your heart clenched at their unease.
“Let’s get ready for bed, yeah? How about that?” You said it for them, but you needed it just as much. A bath, a cup of tea and to curl up in your bed and go to sleep. You looked at the door, the rumbling of the storm low and vibrating. The door rattled with the wind. Where were Qifrey and Olruggio? You needed them here.
You should have told them earlier. You were such a fool.
When baths were done and everyone was a little more calm, you’d corralled the girls into the living room where you all curled up against each other. You were closest to the door, your body a shield to whatever may enter. Sleep was a liberal word to use in this situation. Every time you dozed off, you’d jolt awake from something. One of the girls is turning in their sleep, the brush buddy rummaging in the sheets, an ember popping too loudly in the hearth. You couldn’t relax, but, god, who could blame you?
Just as you had fallen into another semi-lucid rest you were startled awake at a particularly loud crash of lightning. You jolted up and immediately eyed the entrance to the atelier. What time was it? The magic lanterns burned soothingly, casting a soft glow. The girls were still asleep.
The knob shook and you froze. The wind rattled the kitchen windows and the brush buddy that slept curled in Richeh’s arms popped its head up at the sound. The knob shook again and your heart skipped. Had he come back? You scrabbled to find something to hold him off. Would you have time to get to the kitchen, a knife would work? You couldn’t remember any offensive spells and it wouldn’t matter since your palm quire was soaked and you didn’t have the energy to dry it.
The hinges on the door squeaked. You’d have to think fast. Quick. What was there to grab, what could you get?
The door opened and the figure behind it stepped inside. They knocked their muddy shoes against the door trim, a small flash of light zapping away the debris. You heard rustling as they removed their outerwear before taking a step into the space. You kept a hard face and a stiff figure, intimidating. You hoped.
“Darling, what are you still doing up?”
Your lip quivered and all of the tension expelled itself from your body when you realized who it was, “Q-qifrey?” Your voice was unsteady, the adrenaline of what could have been rushed through you, but your relief was flooding. You’d never been happier. He was dry, unsurprisingly, despite the raging storm and his eyes were filled with worry as he took off his cap and cloak. He hung them on the hook next to the door. You caught sight of Olruggio stepping in behind him, shaking off his shoes. When he looked up, he paused, brows furrowing in confusion. “What’s wrong? Why are the girls out here?”
You stumbled to your feet and Qifrey dove for you, “What happened?” he asked. He steadied you under the elbows. You tried not to step on the children. Your knees wobbled and Qifrey guided you to sit.
“Help me get the girls to bed,” you said, “...please.” You knew this conversation would go on for a while and the girls couldn’t stay out here all night. They’d wake with crooked necks and aching backs.
Qifrey and Olruggio don’t question you as they move to gather the children. You fall onto the couch watching them closely.
“Richeh, come on kid, let’s get yuh to bed.” Olruggio muttered. She mumbled something tiredly before standing, leaning heavily into Olruggio's side. When Tetia responded to the same command with a swat of her hand and a quiet, “Go away,” Olruggio picked her up effortlessly. With her head against his chest and arms secured behind her neck and knees he cradled her close and slowly marched them to their room. Every few seconds checking to make sure that a half asleep Richeh still clung to his pant leg.
Qifrey did the same with Coco and Agott, both girls coherent enough to stumble their way through the darkness to their room. The brush buddy was close on their heels.
You were left alone, with the cracklingly hearth and the heavy rains your only company. It only took a few minutes for Qifrey and Olruggio to get them settled but the time dragged. Every creak of the atelier left you questioning where the sound was coming from and who was causing it.
You were so hyper focused that you didn't realize both men had returned. Olruggio fell into the seat next to you, the shift from his weight doing little to catch your attention. It took Qifrey, kneeling at your feet with his hand pressed against your knee, for you to be pulled from your trance.
“My love,” he rubbed his palm up your thigh and back, repeating the motion as he spoke, “what happened?” Olruggio shifted, his knee knocking gently into yours as he placed his arm along the back of the couch. He tilted forward and you subconsciously leaned closer to him.
You licked your parched lips. Qifrey’s eyes never left your face, even when you couldn’t look at him.
“The man at the market,” the air chilled when you started, “he talked to Coco today.”
“What?” Olruggio hissed. Qifrey held up his other hand, stopping his friend from speaking further. Olruggio bit his tongue. He prompted you to continue, removing his hand from your thigh and grabbing your fingers. You’d been pulling at them, they were rubbed red from the friction and ached some but you didn’t care. He let you pull at his instead.
“Start at the beginning,” he said. You cupped your hands around his and squeezed. He always spoke so gently when others were panicking. He never rushed but he made sure to kept you speaking when it was needed.
“His name is Senaka.” you said, “when we were at market he was flirting and he was creepy but you both ran him off. I didn’t think we’d see him again.”
“Was he the one who was at the door last week?” Olruggio asked. You nodded.
“He gave me a palm quire. Said he thought it was one of the girls.” You stood slowly, Qifrey was reluctant to let you go but allowed you to do what you needed. You shuffled to the kitchen, tapping a lantern awake before moving to the locked tea cabinet. You pulled a tin box from the top shelf and unearthed the mysterious palm quire.
“I asked the girls if they had lost theirs this morning and they said no.” You handed it to Qifrey, who flipped through the pages.
“Last one,” you said as you sat back down, settling between them. “I thought it was blank but the last page—”
Qifrey let out a defeated sigh. “Forbidden magic.”
“Shit,” Olruggio cursed. He rubbed at his brows. You felt awful, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I was going to but he—he showed up again.”
Qifrey snapped the book shut. “When?”
“After lunch? The girls and I were outside. Tetia was taking a nap, I was reading, and when I looked up he was just…there. He was trying to hand Coco another palm quire. She refused to take it.” You shuddered, “and when I confronted him he said things that no normal person would know.”
Olruggio’s hand fell to the center of your back as he encouraged you to speak, “What was it?”
"That girl is worth more than you know. Give her my gift.’” you could hear him in your ears, taste the water of the storm on your tongue. “I think I heard him on the day of the picnic too. Whispers on the wind, but I didn’t want to believe it.”
“That’s why you were—why didn’t you tell me?” Qifrey asked. Why didn’t you tell him? You don’t know. There was no sense of entitlement or desire to prove yourself by solving this mystery on your own.
“I was going to tell you both today, but you left so I was waiting until you got back.” This had become bigger than you ever thought it would be.
Olruggio said, in frustration, “We have to report this Qifrey.”
“No!” both of you cried but you’re the one who continued speaking, “Please, Coco is terrified. She didn’t take anything from him, I swear.”
You knew Olruggio had a job to do. Being a Watchful Eye gave him a unique position in the atelier but he had bent the rules before and you hoped he would again.
“We’re just goin' to let a brimcap wander around out there?” Olruggio asked. Both men wanted to help solve the problem but they had vastly different ways of doing it. “Let whatever that thing is harass our family.”
“I will figure something out,” Qifrey said.
Olruggio rolled his eyes, “Yeah an’ if I leave it to you, you’re goin’ to come back hurt. O’ worse.”
“Please don’t leave, not now.” Your voice painfully cut through their conversation. You couldn’t fathom the idea of either of them walking out, the atelier was vulnerable. If Senaka really was a brimcap that meant they knew where you lived, where your home was. Tainting the sanctity of your life with their poisoned ink and cursed hands.
Qifrey sighed, “give me a few days. I’ll make a plan.”
“We’ll make a plan,” Olruggio emphasized.
“Right, we’ll make a plan.” He smiled at you gently, reaching up and brushing your hair from your forehead. He was on his knees, arms supporting himself on the couch, taking his weight, as he leaned over your lap. He pushed up, kissing you reassuringly. You whimpered but immediately kissed him back, your shaking hands cupping his face as you accepted his touch. It was more grounding than anything else. I’m right here, it said, I’m not going anywhere. He pulled away first and you smiled gently as you rested your forehead against his.
“Let’s turn in for the night,” he encouraged, your eyes weren’t open to see but Qifrey’s gaze cut up to Olruggio after he said it. The dark haired man was watching the hearth in front of him, trying to ignore your exchange.
“Okay…” You whispered. You sighed and let Qifrey guide you to your feet. You wrapped your arms around his and leaned into his side, resting your head against his shoulder as he stepped towards the exit.
“Is Olly going to join us?” you whispered. You don’t know why you said it, but the idea of him being away from the two of you made you anxious.
When Qifrey turned to inquire he was shocked to see that Olruggio had already gone back to his room. The soft click of his bedroom door echoing in the distnace. Qifrey’s chest clenched, he wouldn’t have minded if the man had joined him. “Qifrey?”
Qifrey spoke before you could turn to regard where Olruggio just stood, “He won’t be, not tonight.”
+18｜qifrey forgot to give you aftercare... or did he?
you knew he was gentle by default, a witch who built his entire existence around caretaking his apprentices. knowing his true gravity as a teacher, you’d fully expected him to brush your hair out of your eyes, kiss your forehead, and pour you a cup of water when it was over.
but instead, he just completely slumped against you, dead weight against your chest, dozing out the exact second he finished without a single word of aftercare or praise.
possessing a kind nature and an otherwise gentle disposition, it was plain that his dedication to the task would be absolute. he’d been so incredibly turned on by the mere sight of your bare body that it became impossible to hide the desperation he had kept locked away for years—in the deepest, coldest part of his heart. his pale, ink-stained hands were trembling as he parted your thighs, one arm locked firmly around your lower back while his hips rutted into you in a hasty, poorly coordinated rhythm that had you scrambling to clutch onto the mattress.
"l-love, am i doing it correct?" he’d pointed out, face buried firmly into the crook of your neck, his lips caressing your skin in messy smooches each time he slammed his pelvis against yours. his cock was throbbing inside, growing impossibly thicker as if it wasn't already big enough. “i-i never imagined it would feel like this...”
it was, to put it simply, violent when his apex hit. his spine arched, muscles locking into rigid stone as he came inside you, the force of it making him choke on the last breath he had, eyes rolling back in his skull with pure bliss. he took pleasure in milking himself dry, surge after surge of puffy liquid filling your womb until he was effectively shooting blanks. yet, even then, his body still refused to soften, choosing instead to plug everything inside until you were full to the brim.
and then, nothing. just the heavy drop of his body flattening you into the mattress.
well—initially, you thought he was just worn out after everything that happened, hearing him letting out those flimsy huffs and puffs against your collarbone. but as the seconds ticked by, his limbs remained lax, lacking the usual soft twitch of someone drifting into a normal sleep. you tried to shift your hips beneath him, the ridiculously over-the-top-amount hotness of his overindulgence trickling down between your thighs.
and qifrey didn't groan or try to pull you closer like you expected him to do. instead, his hands were still sprawled awkwardly on the sheets, those long, slender fingers you adored staying fully unresponsive, no matter what. you suspected he might have pushed his own limits a little too far, his body overexerting itself just to empty himself into your womb.
“qifrey?” you whispered, placing a hand on his lean back, waiting for that familiar, reassuring hum. but for whatever reason, it didn't come. you pushed yourself up on one weak elbow, using your other hand to gently cup his jaw, tilting his face away from your neck. his blue eyes were half-lidded but empty, staring right through you without a single flicker of recognition. when you experimentally lifted his hand, his wrist stayed completely limp, dropping straight back like a broken doll's the moment you let go. he was just a vacant shell pinned on top of you, oblivious to the world around him.
awareness hit you, as you realized he hadn't just fallen asleep. as a consequence of the intensity of his ecstasy, he actually—
You are munching the cookies Olruggio brings back. At the same time, your two husbands are arguing about the thing you just did.
By ‘thing’ means causing trouble.
They have known you as the troublemaker one. And they still love you for it.
Qifrey thought that if you are pregnant, your troubles will cease a little. But Olruggio disagreed.
“What makes you think that she's gonna stop causing trouble just because she's carrying three?!”
Yes, you are carrying triplets. But does that stop you from causing trouble? Abso-freaking-lutely not.
Truth to his words. You did indeed cause trouble more than Qifrey and Olruggio can count on.
It happens that one time, Olruggio is away. Qifrey was preparing dinner as his apprentice practiced their magic. Since you are pregnant, you can't really do much other than read right? Well, not really.
Troublemaker is your first, middle and last name.
There is no such thing as ‘peace’ when it comes to you. So what did you do?
Simple.
“Baby, can I go outside?”
“Sure! Be back before 7!” Qifrey said. You just replied with an Ok and went outside.
You walk and walk until you find a big tree. What did you do?
OF COURSE YOU CLIMB IT!! MAMA RAISED NO B*TCHES!!”
Anyway, as I was saying, you are happily climbing the tree when you realize you're stuck. Yes you're stuck.
“...oh uh…I'm doom” you could feel yourself panic. The babies inside you kick as if saying ‘karma’s a b*tch’.
You stay in the exact position for hours until-
“[NAME] [LAST NAME]!!!” you gulp as you look down.
And down you see, Olruggio with a mask expression. Qifrey with a panic expression. And the girls with a better panic expression.
What did you do?
You give an awkward smile.
“YOU DAMN WOMAN!!” Olruggio could feel his blood rising to his face. He quickly flies to you as you carefully jump into his arms. He's strong for sure.
As soon as you guys are home, he lectures you to the point Qifrey has to shove food inside his mouth. But that night you can feel his hand trembling on your stomach.
You just cuddle closer.
The second time is when you thought it's a good idea to run while you're 7 months pregnant.
Qifrey just returned from one of his missions as you run to him happily.
“Hubby!!! I miss youuuuuu” you scream. Behind you, Olruggio ran after you. You trip on your own feet and make Qifrey and Olruggio have a hard attack.
Luckily Qifrey uses Tetia’s cloud spell to deflect your fall. Meaning the spell will activate if the user is in danger. Olruggio’s idea.
You just laugh as you roll around the cloud. How did you roll around? Don't ask.
And once again you got a lecture from them. You just pout and refuse to talk to them.
Once they take care of your needs you immediately cuddle them. (The ‘need’ is not the 18+ one ok! It's the one that need help with the bathroom and so on!)
Safe to say, Qifrey is too stressed to even care about anything. Olruggio is close to having a heart attack.
When the babies is born. They each have half of Qifrey and Olruggio hairs. And NONE of your features which make you sulk around the corner.
The two laugh at you but in the end they end up spoiling you that night. And of course the babies will have to ruin it by needing milk.
SYNOPSIS | you supposed a late night dinner visit to qifrey won't hurt, he looks like needs it. but you were only human, and so is qifrey. you'd both rest once you get your fill of each other.
PAIRINGS | modern au!qifrey x reader
NOTE | modern au!! also damn that's hot as frick.
1,840 | WARNINGS: intimate touches, kinda spicyyyy. also not edited and no proofreading whatsoever, we die like bitches tonight.
the ring tone of your laptop echoed from your bedroom, disturbing the music playing in the background while you cooked dinner. turning down the fire on the stove, you rush to your bedroom, yanking the laptop open to quickly click “answer” on the messaging app.
qifrey's disheveled state and sheepish smile appears on screen. his glasses are a little crooked, the shadows under his eyes are evident against the light from the lamp on his desk, and his hair is all over the place.
“you look like you went through hell and back.”
his laugh was airy, soft in a way that fits the color of his hoodie. there's a certain twinkle in his eyes, something that tells you he's had a hard day and he's all but ready to hit the hay. but instead, he's right there, calling you after his online session with a smile so sweet and a laugh too gentle.
“i wouldn't say it was that bad.”
“that's alright,” you take the laptop with you, making your way back to the kitchen. “you still look good though, haggard look and all that.”
“your flattery won't get you anywhere,” qifrey tries to hide, pretending to rummage through something out of sight but his ears are a little pink. “i unfortunately don't have the answer sheet to our last session. sorry, love.”
“you say that as if i don't study enough for my exams.”
“on the contrary, i think you study too much.”
“says you?”
you give him a blank stare, quietly asking him to dispute. for qifrey to state that you study too much is hypocritical. out of anyone you know, qifrey throws himself immensely in his studies. he sometimes forgets to take care of himself when he's locked in, evident in the way his hair is unkempt. his eyes look a little swollen from wariness and his movements are a little slow.
“alright, alright,” qifrey relents, slouching on his seat and resting his cheek on one of his hands.
you place the laptop on the kitchen island, the camera facing the area you're working on.
“have you eaten yet?”
you turn your attention to the stove, turning the fire to medium and adding the last bits of your ingredients into the pot, stirring from time to time.
“no, i haven't done anything for dinner.”
you gave him a stern look from the counter, “and why is that?”
“i lost track of time,” he shrugs. “the girls aren't here tonight so i didn't have to prepare dinner earlier than usual.”
“something tells me you were planning to have a late dinner, again.”
he has the nerve to laugh, a sheepish smile on his face.
“i promise, that wasn't my intention. i had to finish my lesson plan before this weekend, so i wasn't really paying attention to the time.”
you see him turn his head to the side, his glasses reflecting white light that must be from another device. tell-tale signs of his arms reaching forward and the clicking of keyboards resonates from your speakers. he must've been doing his lesson plans right before calling you.
“and you say i study too much, huh?” you quietly wonder, turning the stove off and grabbing a bowl from the shelf.
from the corner of your eyes, you can see qifrey stifle a yawn with his hand, wiping the small tears gathered at the corner of his eyes. he looks exhausted, his eyes seem to involuntary close before prying itself open, forcing himself to read through whatever it was on his computer screen. he looks far from the cozy and calm qifrey you love, and something inside you churns.
you want to fit him in the cups of your hands, take care of him when he needs it most just like does to you.
overwhelmed with the need to show him love (and because you really do miss him a lot), you grab a bigger tupperware, transferring some rice and the freshly cooked meal, before locking it up and taking a lunch bag from one of the kitchen drawers.
“do you have an early morning tomorrow?”
“oh, um,” it takes qifrey a few clicks of his mouse to look at his schedule. “i have some lessons to attend to at around ten so i don't have to get up so early. why did you ask?”
“do you mind if i come over?”
“huh?” his jaw slacks, wide-eyed filled with curiosity but also a twinkle of psyched. “you mean, right now?”
“yeah,” you breathe out an airy laugh. “i kind of made too much for dinner.”
qifrey stared at you with pursed lips through the screen for a moment. he takes the moment to admire you; stained apron tied haphazardly around the back of your waist, hair messy from your random musings–he wished it was his hands threading through your hair, wished that it was his arms wrapped around your waist, wished that he was coexisting with you at the moment you were rummaging through the kitchen, stealing kisses from time to time while you pout at him for interrupting your work.
“only if you'll have me, of course!”
he should just ask you to live with him. god, the sound of it sends a fluffy feeling in his stomach.
“hello? earth to qifrey?”
qifrey, with a very eager smile–exhaustion wiped from his face–his soft laughter resonating from the speaker. you want to kiss his pretty face so he doesn't laugh that pretty laugh of his.
“you're welcome anytime you want, love.”
the door opens with a gentle push, letting you in and away from the cold air from outside. it was already dark by the time you arrived at his front apartment complex and the weather was taking a turn for the worse. it was only a matter of time before it started raining, thankfully, the detour to the convenience store was a short one.
“qifrey?”
you slipped off your shoes, making your way to the kitchen, where the messy pile of papers and pens are scattered. at one side of the table sat the man who owns your world and affection, still typing away at his laptop. his complexion looks ghostly pale and the bags under his eyes are a little darker than what your screen let on.
“hey, you.”
qifrey visibly relaxes when he hears your voice. it's been a while since he's heard it aside from the video calls. for some reason, it feels better than hearing it over the speakers.
especially, now that the distance between the two of you is significantly shorter.
“should i help you clean up?”
“no need to,” he stands up from his seat and approaches you in quick strides. slim arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you closer to his chest and curling around you. the tips of his hair tickles you a little bit when he rests his head on the crook of your neck and you are unable to stop yourself from giggling.
qifrey laughs along with you, tightening his hold on you.
“we can just eat in the living room.”
qifrey’s voice is a lot quieter now. his shoulders aren't stiff from all the stress and pressure of his deadlines. he could feel the tension slowly easing itself into your touch. your skin feels warm, the sound of your heartbeat is astonishing–like the songs you play on stage with your band.
qifrey wonders if the beating of his own heart syncs with yours.
“thank you for coming over, my love.”
“you're welcome,” your fingers muse with his hair, combing through his disheveled locks of snow white hair. “i had to, or else you will completely forget to eat and rest.”
qifrey feels like a puddle of goo, melting on the spot from your sweet ministration.
“that, too. i was so invested in my work that i almost forgot the time.”
“oh, what would you do without me, hm?” you tease, gently ushering him off from the crook of your neck to trace the dark circles under his eye.
humming softly, he turns his head slightly, kissing the tips of your fingers while keeping his eyes on yours. “absolutely nothing, i'm afraid.”
you fought the heat rushing to your cheeks.
“sap.”
“you love it.”
soon after dinner, the two of you found yourselves on the couch together. your head finds haven on his chest, listening to the slow beating of his heart. the melody reminds you of a nursery rhyme; one that got you hooked on music, one that slowly lulls you to sleep. the only thing keeping you awake was his wandering hands rubbing and adding pressure just above your lower back. one that meant so much for you, it reminds you of how safe it is to be with qifrey, how the lyrics and words your mind and hand weave slowly starts to become of him.
you felt him move before his lips pressed themselves on the top of your head. you'd purr if it was possible.
you didn't know how it escalated from innocent kisses on your forehead, to the both of your lips molding itself together in an oh so sweet dance. it's intoxicating, the mixture of soft touches and something more when his hands travel from your lower back into the sides of your chest, rubbing warm circles into your heated skin.
it feels electrifying; having him hold you so close, leaving no space between the two of you, bodies molding together, pressing against each other to make the message crystal clear.
qifrey wants you, as much as you want him.
and really, you tried to remind yourself that he has work tomorrow. but there's no denying the heat you felt when his hips nudged just a little bit against yours. soft groans, breathy sighs, quiet whimpers, wandering hands, and the evidence of qifrey’s desperation were all that you can focus on. it's overwhelming, yet you crave it so bad.
you've never felt so wanted by someone before, it's addictive.
qifrey was the first to pull away, holding your cheek in his hand to steady your breathless form above him.
he did that, god, that's hot.
“hi.”
his smile is soft–unlike the sinful touches from just a few seconds ago, wanting and grabbing at you.
“i love you.” qifrey place lingering kisses from your cheeks to your jaw.
“i love you too.”
it was almost embarrassing, when your head automatically lolled to the side, giving him access to your neck. he latches on quickly, pulling you tightly against his chest while he kisses and breathes against your neck.
your hand clenches the pillow beside his head.
“we should really,” your voice cracks a little with a small whimper when his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck. “take this to the bedroom.”
“i thought you'd never ask.”
swiftly, he pushes himself to sit up, bringing you along. just then, did you see the way his half-lidden eyes glisten with something akin to a flame.
Can you do qifrey x fem reader relationship hcs (both sfw and nsfw) 🤍
AHHH I’ve never done hcs before so please bear with me!
cw: sexual themes. mdni.
qifrey x f!reader relationship headcanons
before you and qifrey started dating, it wasn’t really obvious that he was into you
either he wasn’t or he was just really good at hiding it
so you ended up confessing first and thats how you became a couple
qifrey is very attentive to your needs
he does things for you without being asked or without you realizing that you even needed anything
he practically knows everything about you
his love language is definitely acts of service
on random days, he’ll give you a flower, its meaning and symbol different each day
he would also brew your favorite tea in the mornings, with extra sugar just the way you like it (or no sweets)
he also likes to be in physical contact with you constantly, not in an overly public kind of way
like his hand would be on your lower back guiding you through a crowd, or he stands close enough that your shoulders are touching all the time, or hand holding while walking, etc.
in private though, he is a bit more bold
forehead kisses, back hugs, or leaning onto you when he’s tired
he’s not really good with his words so he shows his love through his actions
nsfw look away!!
qifrey is definitely a soft dom
whenever you and him cuddle, he would lay on top of you with his head nuzzled on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist
when things do start getting heated though, all of your clothes and his will be off since he prefers direct skin to skin contact
he likes being able to see your face when he bottoms out and is going to praise you for it
“You’re taking me so well…” 🙈
the closer he gets to finishing, the tighter he holds you and would bury his head into your neck
he’s very vocal so he tries not to be too loud so the girls wouldn’t hear and get traumatized
he also gets possessive of you and leaves marks all over your body (only on places that can be covered up with your clothes to save your dignity)
he doesn’t want the girls to accidentally walk in on you guys getting intimate so he mainly just prefers to do it in his quarters (with the doors locked ofc)
but sometimes when you’re feeling mischievous, you decide to tease him (all day)
qifrey is a very patient man so you end up thinking nothing you did really worked on him
until you and him were alone in his office
he closes the door and locks it
he picks you up and puts you on his desk and admits defeat, slowly dragging his hands up your legs to lift up your skirt
he asks if you had fun teasing him all day and you just laugh nervously
his hand reaches your underwear and pushes it aside
Some fluff with knights goap, nymph and their daughter please please (first steps maybe or she says her first words)
Just Like Mama
Summary: They love her to the moon and back; just like mama
He could hear you from the stable, your voice heard as a dulcet tone from the open doors. While the horses were being given fresh hay and their troughs filled with fresh water, your voice was carried on the wind. A soft melody that struck him with the fondness he had experienced when his own mother sang to him and his siblings.
The bairns that ran wild as if they were running on the Scottish moors, would all snuggle into their beds to listen to their mama.
Now it was his bairn that had listened to her mama singing, and it was his wife with a voice that was carried on the wind; a melody to bring them home.
I saw a sweet and seemly sight,
A blissful burd, a blossom bright,
That morning made and mirth among.
Lullay lullow, lullay lully,
Beway bewy, lullay lullow,
Lullay lully,
Baw me bairne, sleep softly now.
He stands in the stables and runs a hand down the neck of his horse, listening to the melody while he sings under his breath, joining you in song. Johnny’s chest tightens as he reminisces of the rolling Scottish hills he was raised in and the worried expression of his mother when he left.
He reflects on it while actively being drawn out of the stables to the sound of a siren’s song, like a sailor at sea who will pulled to their death. Only upon reaching the lovely nymph whose singing, there is no death—only the soft swaying skirts of his wife and their bairn.
The wee little girl with hair like Simon and eyes that shine like her mama, a bundle of beauty that’s wrapped in a blanket for warmth. Johnny watches from afar as their little girl raises a chubby hand toward you and rests it on your cheek. She is silent for now but Johnny knows how much she babbles and talks—that trait she inherited from him.
But like Johnny, she is transfixed upon her mama’s voice. Your daughter is watching you, listening to you sing the same song Johnny heard as a child. It is fate that you are theirs; if he had any doubts before now they are vanquished by the sound of your voice.
Fate, it had to be. How could you have known that this song was sung by his mum? Johnny never told you, yet here you are singing the same song to your baby girl.
“You like that song?” You ask your daughter and her face breaks into a grin, toothy and soft.
“Mama-mama-” she says the same sounds over and over, to some it would be babbling nonsense like babies do, but Johnny knows better. He knows that she recognizes her mama, that your daughter is calling for you.
“Mama-mama-” your daughter turns her head and catches Johnny standing on the edge of the garden, and when she sees him her eyes light up just how they light up for you. She extends her chubby little arm from under the blanket and reaches for him, fingers curling and then stretching in a grabby motion.
Just like her mama, she wants him to be close; even if you do not always admit it.
“Dada-dada-dada-” Johnny’s breath catches in his throat, his chest feels tighter as he takes that first step and then another. He cannot restrain himself from feeling a rise in his emotions as he looks at the two of you, grateful that he survived knighthood to be here.
“She’s waiting for you.” Simon steps in beside Johnny, reaching for his hand. “Been goin’ back and forth b’tween mama and dada all morning.”
“Yeah?” Johnny’s lips crack into a grin and he looks at Simon from the corner of his eyes, catching the same breathlessness his husband is affected by. “Si, I-”
“I know.” Simon feels the same way, all the years of fighting and serving, of having broken bones or wounds that could have taken them out.
pairing: qifrey x reader
tags: smut, fem!reader, cunnilingus, improper use of a pen, softdom!qifrey, slight overstimulation, begging, edging
w/c: 2k words
you didn’t know how you ended up in this situation.
trapped between qifrey’s quivering thighs and a rough hand that grabbed a fistful amount of your hair. perhaps it was the lingering trace of alcohol stuck onto your breaths or the unspoken and unresolved tension residing in the air. however, whichever the cause did not do a good job in preventing this situation from escalating.
from what was supposedly a small celebration between two ateliers, quickly turned into a scandalous rendezvous. one that is far from a proper example in which both witch masters should be setting for their apprentices.
okay, maybe you did know how you ended up here—but not to this extent.
which is why the two of you took the liberty of resolving this “unresolved” tension in a dirty storage room away from any crowd. while everyone else was either fast asleep or passed out, you had a cock in your mouth and a pen that you tiredly grasped onto. you sloppily pulled away from his girth, licking the cum dripping from his urethra. a string of saliva connected your lips from his shaft—savoring the remaining substance to prolong the taste of saltiness on your tongue.
“gone all quiet now have we? where’d all that attitude go, qifrey?”
the corners of your mouth curved upwards. you tilted your head to the side as you looked up at the silver haired witch who had his eyes shut and mouth agape. after receiving no response, you raised a brow before diving right back into what has been left unfinished. without any hesitation, you sucked onto his cock—your head bobbing up and down in the process.
you tipped your head lower, angling it so his dick rubbed the back of your throat while your gag reflex threatened you to withdraw. and yet, you stood still. taking it all in until you felt his muscles cramp and tighten. you could only feel his release inching closer, but you didn’t want him to experience that satisfaction. not when he had a smirk on his face that you wanted to wipe off, and definitely not when he’s been the main cause of your suffering the entire night.
because before anything else happened—you stopped.
simply retreating back as you used the back of your hand to wipe the mess on your lips. as you were about to fully pull away, the grip on your hair loosened while qifrey leaned down low enough for his lips to brush over your earlobe.
“that’s enough, don’t you think?” his voice rang in your ears.
he leaned back against his chair with his elbow resting on top of the arm rest and a hand supporting his chin. all while you were on your knees with an ache blossoming in between your thighs. his gaze cautiously scanned over your figure. even though you were the one fully clothed, his presence alone never failed to make you feel vulnerable. you stopped in your tracks, shying away from his field of vision as you felt a finger forcibly lift up your chin.
“look at me.” your mouth hangs slightly open. you’ve seen many sides of qifrey before, and this one is something you have yet to see. not until this night transpired.
you subconsciously held a breath. his face held a clear smile, and yet his eyes tell an entirely different story. in one swift motion, your back was laying against his chest and your legs were on either side of his thighs.
“now tell me, where did all that attitude go now?” qifrey tilted his head to the side, mirroring your exact pose and words from earlier. his tone was humiliatingly similar to yours, as his hands slowly crept up to the inside of your thigh. your face could only burn in embarrassment.
“you are insufferable—!”
your words were cut off with a pinch to your clit before massaging it with his index and middle finger, as if to offer consolation. your words died down to muffled moans, biting down your lip in the process. and what’s worse is that you couldn’t do anything but glare at the man behind you. despite your retaliations, he nuzzled his chin on the crevices of your nape in response. you subconsciously moved your head to the side to give him more access to your neck as he placed a gentle kiss on your collarbone. a few moments after, he sucked down on the skin, leaving a hue of purple adorning your complexion.
“i’m insufferable, hm? care to explain why?”
his free hand grabbed the sides of your face, bending forward to close the distance between the both of you. he teasingly bit your lower lip, as if to ask permission to fully take you in his mouth. nevertheless, you silently agreed—even with your boiling irritation building up towards him. swiftly, his tongue entered yours, exploring each corner and crevice of your mouth while you let out an involuntary whimper against him, grinding against his hips.
“even when you’re the one dripping wet for me?” you flinched at his two index and ring finger spreading your folds while his middle finger collected the slick in the entrance of your pussy.
“can—you—really—say that?” he mumbled in between kisses, slowly sounding out each vowel and syllable, making you shiver under his touch. everything was too much with the way his hands wandered around your body with the same precision and concentration he held with a pen and a sword.
he retracted his fingers and brought it up to your lips. you teasingly bit the pad of his fingers, taking it deeper into your mouth as your tongue traced over his slender digits, sucking it clean. motionlessly, you let go, making a small “pop” sound in the process of separating yourself from him.
but it wasn’t enough. you needed more. you needed something to ease the growing discomfort in between your thighs.
“you act as if i don’t notice the signs you’ve been giving me all night. i’m not blind, i’m not one of your apprentices, and i’m not someone that’s as forgiving as olruggio. i could go on until the sun starts to rise and there would still be something left on my list.”
“mmm, go on then.” he presses his lips against yours and you could practically feel him grin against you before he pulled back and rested himself on the crook of your neck once more.
thank god for magic because without that sound proofing spell you’ve put on the door, you would’ve been beyond mortified.
“and don’t get me started on what you’ve been— mmgh..qifrey!”
and for the first time throughout the entire night you let out a genuine moan—one that wasn’t held back by your desire to remain in control. you gasped at the sudden change in temperature. it wasn’t his fingers, nor was it his mouth, but an entirely different object that unexpectedly eased into your entrance—an item that you were eerily familiar with.
your very pen that was left on the ground, found itself in the hands of a certain water witch.
it wasn’t a regular pen that witches usually used, but it was one specifically tailored and designed for your habits. you could recognize that pattern and design anywhere, most especially if it’s the one being plunged inside your hole. the design bore an intricate base wherein the barrel portion was slightly bigger than the rest of its body. its shorter length added as another convenient function for it to settle comfortably in your grasp.
but who knew this ordinary item could have other..alternative uses. although you couldn’t care less with the way qifrey plummeted inside you, making you a blabbering mess every time you tried to speak. the pen at hand thrusted into the insides of your hole, pulling it in and out repeatedly over and over again at a slow pace.
it was embarrassing how you could almost feel your release at the mere touch of a pen. and what's worse is that it's yours. you're using an item meant to protect yourself and yet it's being used to humiliate you.. its unfamiliar texture and warmth quickly filling you up as you feel your eyes roll back. but it was not enough to satisfy your own needs. you needed him, and he knew it. it was impossible to argue or even plead at a fight for your own pride and control.
“i’ll let you have it if you beg.” he lets out a low laugh. a wicked and cruel one at that in the context of your situation.
you knew it would hurt your pride. you knew it would do more damage than good, but with the tears in your eyes and the desire to satisfy your needs, you didn’t have any other choice other than squirming and grinding on his lap like a dog waiting for its owner. an arm snaked around your waist to prevent you from moving as he patiently waited for your response.
“..please.” you shut your eyes, letting out a small whimper.
“i’m afraid i can’t hear you, darling. use your words.” he says, stopping his movements and pulling the pen out of you. “please what?” qifrey casually throws away the item in his hand, returning it back to its previous position.
“please. let me– hic cum properly.” you manage to choke out, slightly mourning the loss of warmth inside you.
“good girl. it’s that easy, isn’t it?” he turns you around so you’re facing him while straddling his lap. his knuckles graze over your knee as it trails to the inside of your thigh and eventually reaches near your entrance. your skirt rides up to your upper thigh due to the movement.
eventually you find your eyes trailing down from his chest to the area below his bellybutton to reveal his cock that has long been unzipped from his pants. it’s veins and large muscle throbbed as it only further intensified under your gaze.
without wasting any time, you carefully inserted yourself in his member, watching him slowly in. unfortunately for you, that wasn’t enough for qifrey. he placed both hands on your hips and thrusted you right back down, making your head fall onto the crook of his neck for comfort.
you grunted in response, letting out shaky breaths as you felt him gaze upon you. “what are you waiting for? move.”
you glared at him, setting your hands on either sides of his shoulders as you bounced onto his cock. “l-like this, qif–mgnh..!” you mumbled incoherently as you felt a hand slip your robe past your shoulders, discarding it on a floor followed by a tug on your shirt to reveal your breasts.
“exactly like that. you’re doing so well for me.” he says, bending down just enough to cup one hand on your breast and the other being sucked on by his mouth.
“too much–! too much..” you let out a moan, feeling his leg bounce you on his thigh, making his dick go in and out of your hole. you could feel your release coming, and it was clear both of you knew the truth. he held your pleasure and figure all in his grasp and control—it was a fight you lost long ago before you entered this room.
you were now sober, and yet you felt completely drunk on his cock as you felt your eyes roll all the way back. with every thrust and movement, you only felt all the more sensitive to his touch. your nails dug onto his clothed back, creating small holes on the fabric of his shirt as you lazily chased your high.
“come for me, love.” he whispers, feeling you clench around his dick as he guided you through your release.
you collapsed onto his chest, panting heavily as he rested his chin on your head. “you did well.” he placed a kiss on your forehead, watching as the strong hue of red slowly dies down to a faint rosy pink color to your cheeks and ears. you stood still as you warmed over his cock, legs slightly twitching as your high came downz
“..i still hate you.”
“oh?” he lifted your chin up, placing a gentle kiss to your lips.
once. twice. thrice.
he kissed you three times until you could notice the rough and desperate demeanor he played with you after biting your lower lip while pulling away.
“can’t have that, can we? this is far from over then.”
a/n: im crine i consumed all the qifrey smut out there so i made new content for myself
