#[ ask ] ; there is both joy and wonder in coming to understand another

[obfuscatingveil]

@more-than-a-princess asked:

❛ i heard strange noises coming from your dormitory and just wanted to make sure everything is alright. ❜ (For Gundham!)

The stern look in the breeder's eyes shifted into one of surprise. He'd expected these academy walls to be soundproof. How was he going to explain away that he was babying his Pomeranian and his hamsters? They were just all so cute when they played together.

Hopefully she couldn't have made out just what those noises were. He could still save his reputation as an evil overlord!

"Very perceptive of you, Sonia. I know I shouldn't be surprised, but yet, you continue to show your affinity for the beyond." Gundham outstretched an arm to the side only to dramatically shift its position so his hand could rest in front of his face.

"You see. I, Tanaka The Forbidden One. Have untangled the chains of the afterworld and spoken to a phantom that once set foot on this very earth!"

Next, he'd drop his arm and puff out his chest to laugh confidently.

"Fuhaha! Muahaha! Not a single God in their respective pantheons can stop Gundham Tanaka from doing whatever it is he sees befitting of him at that time! Does a lion request to devour the gazelle? Does the earth request passage when it revolves around the great sun? No! And neither shall I!"

He sure hoped that was convincing enough. If she found out he wasn't doing a séance, but instead calling his ferocious beast a 'munchkin'. Only the worst could happen.

[pearlywritings]

In father’s embrace

synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Blade, Gepard, Loucha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s

word count: 5.2k words

a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague. Here’s the Genshin version!

Blade

Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.

The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.

Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".

As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.

Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.

Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.

With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.

He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.

It’s soothingly silent.

It almost reminds him of the past.

“For how long will you be staying this time?

Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions. 

These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.

“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.

“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.

The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.

“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”

A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.

“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.

Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.

Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.

Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.

But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.

Gepard

A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.

It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.

Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.

After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.

You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.

Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.

The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.

Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…

When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.

Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.

Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.

Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.

“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”

“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?

“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”

“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.

When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.

His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.

“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.

“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”

“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”

“Serval, you what?”

“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”

“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”

“This little-”

Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.

Loucha

To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.

It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Loucha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.

Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.

And Loucha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.

When Loucha suggested having another one it simply felt right.

Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.

Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Loucha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.

Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Loucha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies. 

The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior. 

More than a decade ago Loucha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.

It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.

At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.

“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.

“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”

Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.

“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”

“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”

“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Loucha shakes his head.

“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”

“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”

“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”

“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”

“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”

You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.

“For everything.”

He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace. 

Sampo

In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.

But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?

Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.

And boy did that “hehe” change your life.

That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.

That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.

And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.

Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.

That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.

That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.

From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.

You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.

Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.

Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.

Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?

And soon enough you find it out.

“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”

“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”

There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.

But that’s not what exactly concerns you.

“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.

“Yes, mommy!”

“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”

And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”

“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”

Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.

“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.

“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.

“...Pa-mpo?”

“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”

“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”

And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.

“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”

“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”

“Don’t even dream of it.”

Jing Yuan

Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.

He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.

For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.

The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.

Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.

And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…

“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.

“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”

“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.

“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”

You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.

“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”

“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”

“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”

To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.

“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”

“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”

“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”

“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.

In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace. 

“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.

“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.

“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”

“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.

You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.

[cod-fishing]

Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.

When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.

He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.

“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”

He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…

He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.

Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?

Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.

It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.

Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.

“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”

“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”

And, even worse than all that, somehow…

“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”

And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.

And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.

Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

‘Cause you are mine

Warning ⚠️; slight smut, Tony being his own warning (alcoholism, suicidal, depression.) Alcohol, blood, fluff 🔞

Pairing; Yandere!Tony Stark/Male!Reader

Summary; Tony can't take it any longer. He doesn't feel appreciated by his friends, feels like a burden to them and that the whole world is against him. That is until he meets you. You shine as bright as the sun and he is Icarus flying too close. But you are the one whose wings burn and melt.

Note; Tony is my Pookie, so be ready to have a lot of stories about him. And again, sorry for the mountain that is this story. ⛰️ And I was hungry for some Yandere Tony

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gala was boring as always and you wondered how long it would take for something interesting to happen. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for someone to catch your attention. Your gaze fell on Tony Stark. The man was alone in a corner, sipping at his drink. The hero seemed lonely, lost and somewhat sad.

Tony Stark, a man who had done so much for the world without ever being thanked. What a sad fate. Trying your best but people keep bringing back your mistakes.

Finishing your own drink, you left the empty glass on the bar before walking up toward the genius. Tony didn't even turn to you before asking you to leave. His voice was low, a dim whisper as if he didn't want to be heard.

- “Why? This Gala is so boring and you are the only interesting person around.” You said, grabbing a drink as a server passed. “I've been impressed with your latest work in medical engineering. That going to help our surgeons save more lives.”

Tony eyed you, suspicious of your intentions and you understood why. So many people only saw him as Iron Man or a drunk, not as another human with feelings. But Stark was so much more. He was a genius and his mind worked like no one else. You wondered why people thought so little of him after everything he had been through and did for others.

You raised your hands, showing you weren't a threat.

- “Hey, easy. I ain't trying to suck your dick, just talking about your latest achievement. Not everyone look at you and see Iron Man.”

You chuckled as Tony rolled his eyes and swallowed his drink in one go.

- “No one ever hears me talk about all that, they all want to speak to Iron Man, curse me or want something from me. So yeah, let me doubt you here princess.” There is an edge to Stark’s voice and you easily see it for what it is; a way to protect himself.

- “Well then, I guess I will have to prove myself to you, won't I?” You replied, getting a smirk from Tony.

And its the best thing you ever did.

For the rest of the gala you both stayed in your corner drinking glass after glass and talking about everything and anything Tony created and made in recent years. You don't understand everything, so you ask question after question just to see some light and passion appear in Tony’s eyes.

Neither of you saw the time pass until you were among the last ones standing. Barely. Drunk the both of you, you had to support each other just to walk outside while jiggling like two idiots as you tried to pronounce some scientific word and Tony tried to help you.

You expected to go your separate way, not thinking Tony would want to spend more time with you. After all, you were both wasted and morning promised to come with one hell of a hangover. But to your surprise and joy, the genius almost forced you into his car.

Tony’s mansion is all you imagined. Enormous, luxurious and extravagant just like its owner, you didn't expected to feel so empty and lifeless. Even wasted you wonder if his home reflect Tony’s entirely. Does inside he also feel that way?

You two crash somewhere in what you can only call a mix between a living room and a bar. Tony, who's the most sober between you, got in his head to pour more drink and you can't refuse. Sitting almost on each other lap the conversation continued with you asking questions and Tony explaining everything, even getting his hand on his tablet to give you a visual.

Before the first light of morning comes Tony and you already finished a full bottle and a half. The conversation isn't clear and it is mostly you two giggling as you struggle to pronounce any complicated words. Stark isn't better. Head resting in the crook of your shoulder, one leg across your lap, the genius looks somehow happy and content in his drunken state. You got your arms around him, making sure he doesn't fall and hurt himself.

But when the sun finally rose and filled the room with golden light, there was only a comfortable silence between you and Tony. Your head resting on top of his, your hand grabbing one of his arms as your thumb drew circles on his skin you both felt content. There is no sleepiness, no need to pass out, just the desire to keep the moment going and hoping it'll never stop.

But of course, every good thing must come to an end.

At first, you heard footsteps coming closer as you were slowly drifting to sleep. In your arms, you felt Tony move, which woke you up fully. Then the door opened as a woman talked. Mind still in the mist, you didn't really understand what she was saying other than she was going to show you out.

- “He isn't going anywhere, Pepper. My new friend is staying right there with me.” Tony said, his voice so close to your ear that you shivered.

- “Tony, you got meetings today and they are important so up and get ready.”

You grunted and groaned, barely listening to the two bickering. Your arm stayed around Tony’s waist, making sure he didn't fall down as he trashed around, arguing with the named Pepper.

- “It's fine Tony. You are a busy man with a lot on your shoulders and I don't want to steal more of your time. We had a lot of fun last night and I hope we can do that again, but for now, your duties await you.” You said, petting his back and you turned your head to look at Pepper. “Alright miss. Show the way, but slowly please.”

Pepper looked at you and nodded as you got up. Tony wasn't happy about it, but you ignored him, not wanting to cause Tony more problems. You followed Pepper, head heavy and feeling like you would never drink again when you felt someone grab your hand. Before you could utter a word, you were forced to run as Tony pulled you behind him.

You heard Pepper screaming Tony's name while the genius just laughed. Lost, you followed the genius. Tony took you down in his workshop and lab. He showed you around, smiling proudly as you admired everything, wondering how a single man could do and create such incredible things.

Having prevented Pepper from following, Tony relaxed and told you he didn't want to leave. Not anytime soon. It both surprised and worried you. Why was your new friend so determined to keep you close? Was he that lonely?

In the following days, Stark was everywhere with you. If you had to go somewhere, he accompanied you and even drove you around. You didn't have a second of peace and yet it only felt normal, natural. Tony fitted perfectly in your life like the piece you didn't know you were missing.

If you weren't sleeping at his place, Tony would join you at yours or you would stop at a hotel or motel. You could tell his friends, especially Pepper were getting tired of it. But not you. Having someone's full attention on you was something exciting, especially Tony who wasn’t one to trust easily.

Even after a few weeks, you didn't get bored with it. Every day brought something new in your relationship with Tony. Some of it was a story from Tony’s past, sometimes he took you to his workshop and you worked with him on some project or he opened up about what was going on in his head.

You couldn't remember when was the first night you shared a bed, but it was at Tony’s place after drinking way too much again. The genius was nuzzled against you, your arms wrapped around him when you woke up. Tony was trashing around, sweaty and whimpering. You could immediately tell he was having a nightmare. As gently as you could, you nudged him until he woke up.

Tony jerked awake, hitting you in the chest as he tried to get away. You had to pin him down against the mattress and ask Friday to turn on the light for Tony to calm down. You were shocked by how scared and broken Tony looked and wondered how no one saw it sooner. You passed the rest of the night cuddling and pampering him until he was calm once more.

As time passed you met each member of the Avengers and each time you were disappointed. Not by the fact they were human but by how little they seemed to care about Tony. They never really listened to him or rolled their eyes as he rambled about some scientific things. It was hard for you to appreciate them when they didn't appreciate your dearest friend.

You pointed it out to Tony who simply scoffed.

- “Tell me something I don't know, Princess.” He told you, voice tired and done.

- “Well I don't like them.” You grunted and he laughed.

- “Again, I know that.”

You kept an eye out on Tony and saw how down he often was after each mission or meeting with the team. You took it upon yourself to make him feel better; getting his favourite food and coffee or drinks and he would smile at you, thankful.

It is sooner than later that your relationship evolved from friends to more.

Again, it all happened after you drank way too much and ended up having a passionate night with Tony. When you wake up naked, you feared you had destroyed your friendship, only for Tony to be happy to now be your lover.

Not just your lover but also your boyfriend.

The news quickly found its way into every magazine and soon enough everyone knew Iron Man was seeing someone, a man. You didn't care about being the target of the cameras, as long as Tony was by your side. After all, you had nothing to be ashamed of.

However, you never imagined how possessive and protective Tony would be toward you. To your surprise, Tony hated seeing your names on the news or on magazines and would snap after any journalist trying to talk to you.

You weren't the only one shocked; his whole team and friends didn't recognize him. Tension began to build up between Tony and the rest of the Avengers. You could only feel guilty, thinking you were the cause and yet not understanding what was going on with Tony.

But with you, Tony was gentle and caring, even overloving sometimes. He would ask for forgiveness each time you pointed out how he acted and would forgive him. You couldn't stay angry for long.

But as the tension and conflicts grew, Tony and the Avengers grew apart. Soon enough, Tony announced he was leaving not only the team but also would stop providing funds to them and the S.H.I.L.D. But after tragedy comes happiness and Tony proposed to you.

As happy as you felt being engaged, the ring strangely felt like handcuffs or a leash. In the back of your mind you wondered if you were doing the right thing. But it was too late to back down, and now that Tony wasn't part of the Avengers anymore he was even more often with you. He was always there, even when you thought you were alone.

After all, he could access any and every camera in the country. There was nowhere where he wouldn't find you.

[tbzhub]

Money Shot

Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader

Summary: a night in with your boyfriend turns into a photoshoot

Warnings: MDNI, smut, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, lots of photos are taken, pet names like twice

Rating / Genre: M, established relationship au, some fluff, smut

WC: 3.6K

Artist Note: this is a little part 2 to this fic: just go fuck him ♥︎ thank you for the love on that story, i'm sorry the title is so misleading alvjbhvxzgfn. i figured i'd revisit these two!

Tagged: @deoboyznet @everykebbie @blizzardfluffykpop

psst i finished it @the-boy-meets-evil

m.list tag list

It’s a wonder how much a person can change in a year or two. 

These days your chest doesn't feel as tight. Your thoughts aren’t as intrusive and insecurity visits you infrequently. The smiles that grace your lips are genuine– often prompted by the joy that's found its way into the tight confines of your heart. 

With each passing day, came a further understanding of what it meant to live. To experience the world with an abundance of love intertwined with your being. 

Hyunjae wouldn’t agree, but he made all the difference. You are far more vibrant now; confident, social, witty. Being deeply in love brought out a version of yourself that was content and yet utterly fearless. 

There’s peace, both in knowing someone has seen the harshest parts of you and that they still love you just the same. 

Hyunjae gave you the space to be yourself– to show up however you were able to on any given day. With you, he was gentle and understanding in a way that’s reserved for people who care. 

Dating him meant never having doubt– not when he made every day feel like a gift. It was easy to smile with him around. He was funny without trying and hilarious in times when laughter was needed most. His spontaneity took some getting used to, but only because you were a homebody. Now, you look forward to the days you spend with him, enamored by Hyunjae’s innate ability to make every moment memorable. He saw the world in a way that left you inspired. Through his photography, he taught you that beauty was found in the most unlikely places.  Like at a run-down flea market during sunset, or while walking past a vacant flower stand on a late night– the florist long gone after an honest day’s work. Overexposed shots of your hair dancing in the wind as you slump in front of a fan, trying to survive in the summer heat. 

He was always taking pictures of you. Initially– you hated it. You’d go shy or tense up when you saw him bring out a camera, on high alert when he brought out his phone. But over time, you appreciated it. Being his muse– being able to see yourself the way he saw you– helped you in areas that you hadn't realized needed assistance. Through your days in front of the lens, you've learned that you have a brilliant smile. That your hair harbored a different tone in the wake of a setting sun. Sometimes you’d catch yourself anticipating the camera on days when you knew you looked your best, growing confident as more time passed with him by your side.

Now, more than anything else– you both are beyond comfortable and obsessed with one another. Your ears perk up when you hear the bedroom door creak open and the way you immediately step out of the bathroom to greet Hyunjae with a face covered in skin care products proves the aforementioned sentiment.

Coming over to kiss him sweetly, you briefly melt into his firm arms and as you lean back you swipe your thumb over the gray dot of mud mask that sticks to his nose with a chuckle.

“Aww…” Hyunjae coos, taking in your spa headband and the little strip across your nose. 

“No…” you groan, shielding your face away from him and his predictable nature.

“But you look so cute, right now.” He whines, peeking from behind the camera while his fingers hover over the button.

“No, I don’t. I look like the moon emoji” you mumble back.

“What do you mean? Hyunjae asks, looking at you with a clueless squint.

“You know, the one that’s like…”  you give a side glance to look more like the little gray icon.

There’s a small flash of light as the shutter clicks and Hyunjae chuckles as he looks at the tiny screen while you stand stunned that he tricked you so easily. You playfully push him in response, causing him to laugh harder and you can’t help but join him, finding his antics funny. 

You kiss him on the cheek before heading towards the bathroom. 

“I’ll be right back.” You announce with your back turned. “Don’t miss me too much,” Hyujnae calls out absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the camera in his hands and you smile at the remark as you walk onto the cool tile floor.

You come back to him with a washed face and a silly smile embossed into your pretty features. Bounding onto the bed, you allow Hyunjae to tug you into his arms. He peppers you with kisses, lips smacking against yours a couple of times until he’s pulled a wide smile and a few giggles out of you. 

“Wait– stay right there,” he says and you groan but your smile only grows wider.

“Don’t you get tired of taking pictures of me?” You ask, looking him over in amusement as you honor his instructions, holding your current angle. “Nope,” he replies, twisting in his spot to grab his polaroid camera. “Maybe when you have a hot girlfriend, you’ll understand.” He jokes, sending you a flirtatious look over the top of the camera while his finger turns the camera on with muscle memory.

Your laugh is accompanied by the roll of your eyes. Hyunjae presses the shutter and you ready yourself for the flash, relaxing thereafter as the camera goes to work.

The whirring of the film getting developed halts your joking, Hyunjae carefully plucks the film out and shakes it in his hand gently once it pops out of the top of the camera.

Falling further into the comfort of his pillows, you smile up at Hyunjae, observing the way he looks at the picture. His eyes were soft as he swept over the image, the arches of his cheeks raising slowly as a smile blossomed on his lips. For whatever reason the sight struck a chord within you.

“You really think I’m beautiful, don't you?” You voice the thought without realizing it, not until Hyunjae’s gaze shifts to you and you're taking in the sincerity in his eyes as he speaks. 

“Of course.”

He doesn’t say anything else and you didn't need him to. Not when he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists in the world. The only thing worth gazing upon. His hand trails its way into your hair and you look into the lens again, relaxing under Hyunjae’s touch as the shutter clicks again. You shift slightly on the bed as Hyunjae inspects the second polaroid the same way as he did the first. He puts the two pictures on the nightstand for safekeeping before leaning down to kiss you on the lips. 

With your arms looped around Hyunjae’s neck, you steal more kisses off his lips until he drops the camera onto the bed and climbs on top of you. The kiss deepens as one of his hands roams down to grab at your waist and pulls your body closer to his while he props himself up to keep from crushing you with the other. He lingers on your lips, pressure changing from soft and teasing to hard and wanting once you wrap your leg around his hip.

You stay like that long enough for your heart to mimic the rapid thud of Hyunjae’s heart rate.

When Hyunjae pulls away from the kiss you’re left wanting more, grabbing at his shirt in an attempt to bring him back but you stop when you notice what he’s doing.

He hovers above you with a polaroid camera in hand. “Just one more. Your lips look perfect,’ he murmurs as he lines up the shot and you lick your kiss bruised lips before giving bedroom eyes to Hyunjae through the lens. You hear the sound of the camera going off and the flash follows before the whirring begins. You watch patiently as he studies the picture with a smirk on his lips. His hand moves smoothly up and down your bare thigh as his gaze flits across the film. 

It was hot seeing him like this, so obviously turned by what he’s doing– by you.

His hand comes up to caress your neck before falling lower, squeezing your chest over the thin fabric of your tank top and you pick up on how he bites his lip before finally tearing his eyes away and placing the picture to the side with the others.

“Wanna take more?” You ask, gingerly tiptoeing into uncharted territory. “I mean… I’d be down?” You suggest lightly while looking up at Hyunjae’s face. His expressions bounce between confusion and surprise before settling on mirth and something else indescribable.

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation, his voice suddenly low and velvety.

As you nod your head yes, you wrap your fingers around Hyunjae’s wrist and guide his hand down to rest at the hem of your top. 

His hand scrunches up the fabric, exposing most of your stomach as he dips down low to meld his mouth with yours hotly. He kisses you slowly, taking his time with you in a way that you’ve never experienced with him before. His hand slides up further, delicately cupping your chest as he sighs against your lips. The sharp sting of Hyunjae’s fingers digging into your skin sends a shock to your center and your lips part in a soft moan in response. His tongue brushes against the tip of yours tenderly as your skin pebbles under his touch. 

The kiss remains slow as he savors every last second of having you like this, nibbling on your lower lip before sucking the tender spot and kissing you hungrily. You lay slack underneath him, body and mind being led by the pleasure he pours into you with his sinful lips. 

Your back arches as he lifts your tank top up further, pulling the garment over your shoulders. Hyunjae’s hands fall onto either side of your cheeks, holding your face in place as he presses his lips onto yours firmly and warmth floods your chest. His hands travel down your neck and sweep across your shoulders as he drags his lips along your jawline. He continues his descent until he reaches a particular spot on your neck that makes you bite back a loud whimper. He sucks the sensitive area while you squirm underneath him with your eyes half closed. You shake out a soft moan, bliss surging up your spine as he moves to another spot on your neck.

He sucks mark after mark into your skin until you're nearly trembling and soaking wet with need. Your shoulders and neck are covered in splotches of deep reddish and purple hues that you can’t fully see but the look on Hyunjae’s face as he leans back tells you that look to die for. He drinks you in with a lust-clouded gaze, looking you up and down a few times before reaching out for his camera.

“Fuck– you look perfect like this…” he praises, voice imbued in admiration and want. He lines up the shot, standing on his knees above you and you can see just how much he’s into this.

You reply with a moan and glance up, giving the camera a heated look before the camera flashes. His hand comes into the next shot as he wraps his fingers around your slender neck. You catch his dick twitching in his sweats as he takes a second picture with you posed like this. Hyunjae doesn't wait for the film to come out before casting the camera to the side. He yanks at your shorts and underwear, pulling them off of you quickly with your help. You spread your legs wide for him while he works his way out of his clothes. He’s back on you hot and heavy the minute his cock is free, settling between your legs as he devours you with an intense gaze, tracing your form lustfully. 

“Eyes on me, okay?” He orders softly, smoothing a hand over your bent knee lovingly as the other snakes its way up your thigh, leaving behind a sweltering tingle that lingers on your skin. 

His fingers sink into your wet heat and a sultry moan rings through his bedroom. Hyunjae rocks his palm back and forth, two fingers curled upwards against the soft walls of your pussy. You coat the digits, eliciting the sloppiest noises that you’ve ever heard from your wet cunt but you couldn’t be bothered to be ashamed about that in the wake of what he’d just put your neck and shoulders through. 

He picks up the pace and your legs fall open further as a long sigh leaves your chest. You obediently keep your eyes open, trained on Hyunjae while he works you over. The look you share is a charged one as he fucks you with his fingers, his determined gaze contrasting your unbridled blissed-out state. Your swollen lips part as you pant his name, pleading for him not to stop.

Hyunjae blindly grabs ahold of his camera, never stopping the steady rhythm of his deft fingers urging you dangerously close to an orgasm. Your toes curl and your legs tremble as he readies the camera. He lifts it until he’s got the right angle. His biceps strain and sweat trickles down his arms as he pumps his digits in and out of you while rubbing your bud rhythmically. His arm is getting tired but he waits… and waits, finger resting just above the shutter as he waits for the right moment. The one where your face scrunches up and your pussy tries to choke his fingers. He fingers you with just the right amount of pressure to grow the feeling inside you until it bursts–

The shutter goes off and a flash brightens the room.

You toss and turn as you cum all over Hyunjae’s fingers, moaning loudly as he fucks you through it. Gradually his pace slows just enough to gently bring you down from your peak. His fingers slip out of your sloppy folds and he licks them clean without a second thought before retrieving the polaroid from its slot. 

You shiver through the aftershocks of your high while you come down further. “How’d it turn out?” You ask, still breathless. Hyunjae looks over to you with dark eyes and you swallow under the passion in his gaze.

“Unreal,” he replies through a husky tone before setting that picture down beside the others. He climbs back on top of you, kissing you repeatedly as he lays his warm body flush with yours. Your legs tangle with his while you make out and your dainty hands mess up his hair as you roll on top of him in bed. You straddle his hips in haste, desperate to ride him but he clamps his strong hands around your waist freezing you in place.

“There's a shot that I want to get,” he hesitantly admits. 

You look down at him with an endeared smile. You knew him well enough to know what he wanted. He always say you look so pretty sucking him off. “Okay, baby,” you say, shuffling down the bed until your lips are inches away from his cock. 

Hyunjae groans, tilting his head back into the pillows as you take him past your lips. You don’t tease, dipping your head forward to ease more of his cock into your mouth while your tongue glides down his length. Your lips tighten around him, sucking in on your way up and swallowing around the head before gliding down again.

“Fuck–

You grind your nose into his pelvis when he reaches the back of your throat and you feel him squirm in bed. You let up again, going slow as you cover his entire cock in your spit. Hyunjae fists the bedsheets and hisses at the sight of you–  his cock, dripping with the attention that you’ve lavished it with, tucked between your plush dewy lips. You sink his cock into your mouth again, moaning as you sense him preparing to snap another picture of you. 

Your eyes begin to water as you take him to the back of your throat a few more times, looking up at Hyunjae just in time to hear the shutter go off again. You close your eyes and hum, sending another shiver of vibrations down his cock as he tries to check out the picture.

All you hear is shallow gasps for a while as Hyunjae holds the polaroid up to his face, coaxing you up and down his length with his other hand.

“This one is golden,” he rasps, voice ragged and thick with pleasure as he bobs you up and down his cock for a bit longer, entranced by how sexy your eyes look in the picture. You suck harder, swirling your tongue around before Hyunjae gently pulls you off of him by your hair.

“Let me see?” You ask, sitting up and straddling his lap as he places that picture to join the rest.

He just shakes his head. “We have to round out the set first,” Hyunjae teases, hands going to rest at your hips as he lines you up with his stiff cock. Placing your hands behind you on his toned thighs as you lift your hips, angling them to catch his cock between your wet folds before you lower yourself onto him. You sit on his cock in one fluid motion and sigh. He feels so good– the sweet slide against your walls as you’re filled making your head spin. You rock forward, leaning back against your arms for leverage while you rock back, savoring his thick cock pressed against you. You raise your hips and drop back down, moaning at the feel of his cock teasing your needy cunt. 

You circle your hips while you bounce in his lap, slamming your hips down harder with every motion. Your head tilts back as you ride him, so satisfied yet so greedy for more, hips beginning to roll faster. Hyunjae tightens his hold on you before matching your thrusts, sending his cock as deep as possible causing you to cry out in abandon. You bounce faster, breathing ragged as you start to work up a sweat, a sheen covering your stomach and thighs. Your skin slaps against Hyunjae’s as you move in sync, connected as one as your bodies heat up.

His fingertips press into your skin, as he takes control, lifting you up and down with only the strength in his arms. Hyunjae fucks you nice and slow, dropping you down on his cock and sliding you off so you feel every inch of him leave your insides.

“Fuck Jae,” you moan, core aching for release just when he’s decided to slow things down.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You look so good like this. I don’t wanna rush,” he whispers, licking his bottom lip as he looks up at you– still dragging you up and down his cock like you weighed practically nothing.

He doesn’t forget the camera, reaching for it with one hand while you take over once more. You slide down nice and slow before raising your hips, pausing at the top when he tells you to.

“You look fucking incredible, baby.” He says as he takes the last shot.

The shutter clicks and you carefully push the camera out of Hyunjae’s hands, feverishly crashing your lips into his a second later. He immediately falls in line, kissing you and giving you exactly what you’ve been waiting for. His arms circle your back as he holds you close and pounds into you. 

You gasp and writhe, taking all that Hyunjae gives you as your thighs give out. 

Pleasure and fatigue build, and build within you, threatening to overflow as he continues his onslaught on your pussy. He snaps his hips into you with unprecedented strength, and thrusts rough and careless, eliciting nothing but filthy sounds out of you.

His pace picks up, strokes falling out of rhythm as he chases his climax. 

The steady push and pull of his cock filling you up crowds your senses. Your mind goes hazy as you focus on how good Hyunjae makes you feel every time. Pushing your body to places that you didn’t think it could go. You clench around him as another huge orgasm shuts down your body.

When you finally come to your senses, you notice that you're sore and covered in sweat. You feel kind of gross, but there's nothing that could make you abandon your place on Hyunjae’s chest right now. 

You’re so tired that when you try to speak, your words come out as syllables abstractly strung together. The last thing you’re aware of is Hyunjae’s cool lips pressed against your forehead as you drift off to sleep.

-

In the morning, you wake up sore. The marks that litter your neck and shoulders are a little tender and you feel like you did 200 sit-ups and 300 squats right before bed. 

Hyunjae wasn't around, but you weren’t surprised by that– he never missed catching the sunrise at dawn.

As you sit up in bed, the stack of polaroids from last night catches your eye and you leap out of bed to sift through them all. The first photo is so innocent that you chuckle, knowing where the night led you. You glance through the rest, cheeks heating up at how bold you are in front of the camera. 

You flip to the last picture in the stack and can’t help but swoon. You set the stack down, covering the unfiltered pictures with the one of Hyunjae kissing you on your forehead while you were fast asleep.

[paulyenvol6]

Byka Atroksia (Chapter 8)

Contains: Smut, fingering (f receiving), kissing, touching, dirty talk, body image issues, soft dom!Daemon

Wordcount: ~2.31k

Masterlist of this story

A few hours later you found yourself in your chambers again. After a fight had almost broke out between you and Rhaenyra you had managed to avoid another outburst even though you didn’t feel the same kind of lightness between you you had felt in the beginning of your trip together.

Now you sat on your bed and looked outside your window.

You simply didn’t want to feel miserable or sad, but the heaviness wouldn’t vanish. You hated this so much, because you knew that you COULD have a normal conversation with Rhaenyra. Today had proven it once again. You just hated that at some point everything shifted and you couldn’t recognise your sister when she looked at you with those flashing eyes. You wondered whether what you did with your uncle had made it worse.

But that wasn’t really possible as Rhaenyra obviously didn’t know anything about it. It also hadn’t made it easier though, so had just nothing changed at all? How could you change it? You wanted things to be always the way it was when you had been lying with Rhaenyra in the grass, gossiping and laughing. But you didn’t know how to achieve that, you just both had to understand that Daemon wasn’t the prize of some inofficial competition between the two of you.

But you couldn’t understand this yourself if you were honest to you. You still felt this tension in your stomach when you saw them laugh or dance together. And now you had been bedded by him… Which alone was already bad enough, but what did it mean for Rhaenyra and your rivalry?

Of course you had already thought about this before. You just simply couldn’t help it as you were always so affected by this ongoing fight but you hadn’t really come to a good conclusion. Had you won the fight? Daemon had shown you quite a lot of attention the last couple of days. But you didn’t feel like you had won and that was what was odd to you. It seemed like nothing had changed.

How did you feel? What did the fact that your uncle had coupled with you make you feel? Of course you felt dirty, but more because of your initial fear of what would happen if someone was to find out you had lost your maidenhood before marriage. But in context with Rhaenyra and your rivalry…?

You didn’t really know. Maybe there was a little pride and self – satisfaction but it was hard to separate all those feelings. Because there were so many more layers, you felt joy, excitement, nervousness, fear, shame and so much more. It was hard to identify what emotion was caused by what. Or by whom.

You let yourself fall back on your bed and closed your eyes. It was still early and the sun hadn’t touched the horizon yet but you were very tired so you closed your eyes and found peace in a matter of seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you stayed by the Keep and helped your handmaidens pick out new curtains and carpets for the King's and Princesses' chambers. You had fun doing it and put a lot of effort into choosing beautiful ones. Time passed swiftly and in the afternoon you found yourself in your chambers writing a letter to your childhood friend Isa Tully.

She had just gotten betrothed to a Bracken lord and you asked all kinds of questions about her future husband. Isa was Niclas Tully's niece and you knew her from when she had been a ward in the hand's family. When you had been young she was one of your best friends and saying goodbye when she had left at the age of 14 you had thought that you had lost her. And indeed, you didn't see her often now but you exchanged letters and were able to catch up through them.

But you were interrupted when the door opened and you looked up from the parchment. "Daemon.", you said and slowly put down the feather. He walked towards you with a smirk and had his hands folded behind his back.

"Hello, niece." He stepped close behind the chair you were sitting in and you turned your head so you could look at him.

"Is there a reason for your visit?", you asked for some reason out of breath and Daemon's hand started to caress your back.

"Yes. There is." You tried to surpress a smile and quickly got up from your chair. In one movement you turned to him and got close to kiss him. You were excited and eager for him but when you wanted to undress him and take off his shirt he denied you and pulled your hands away. You moaned against his mouth feeling dissatisfied but he ignored your pleading and pushed you into the second part of your room.

You expected him to move the both of you to your bed and awaited the edge of it to hit the back of your knees but it didn't happen. Daemon's hands were on the side of your face and your waist until he stopped the kiss and watched you with glaring eyes. Then he grabbed your shoulders and slowly turned you around until you stared at your reflection in the mirror. His eyes observed you as you watched the both of you and Daemon moved closer so he stood behind you. "Daemon, what?"

"Shh.", he interrupted you with his mouth close to your ear. His hands traveled over your body and he stroke your hips and waist.

"I want you to see yourself.", he whispered softly. "I want you to see what I see. I want you to see how pretty you look."

You felt goosebumps on your arms and his husky voice made your knees weak which was quite unfortunate because you were still standing.

"You don't believe me when I say it. So I want you to see for yourself." His mouth brushed over your ear and then his hands reached behind you to unlace your dress. You watched his beautiful face as he looked at your back and then with one movement, Daemon pulled the dress over your shoulders and down until you saw your bare chest in the mirror.

Daemon followed your gaze and his hand brushed over you naked shoulder which made you feel the coldness of his rings.

"So pretty.", he whispered when he ran his hands over the swell of your small breast. You didn't exactly agree because you thought that your chest wasn't full enough and therefore not sensual enough but you had to admit that the view was pretty. His hands on your body and your nipples that stood out pink against the color of your skin…

"Can you see it?", Daemon whispered against your ear. "Can you see how nice you look?" You gulped loudly when his finger brushed over your right nipple and nodded slowly.

"Good.", he growled and his touch on your chest became a little faster and more determined. While his right hand pulled at and rubbed your nipple his left ran over the curve of your breasts and now and then massaged your tits. Your eyes were glued to your reflection and Daemon was sure to remind you to when you forgot to keep them open.

His lips brushed over the side of your neck and he gently pressed little kisses on your skin. Then after a while he pulled your dress and undergarment further down until it fell on the floor and you stood with nothing covering your body. You observed yourself and Daemon's eyes were fixed on you. You felt his hard cock against your arse and his arms wrapped around you to caress your hips and belly while his chin brushed against your hair.

"Look at yourself, Vhaela.", he whispered, his eyes so dark that you almost couldn't see the pupils. "Do you still want to tell me that you can't possibly be desired by a man, mhm?" His hand wandered down your body and slipped between your legs.

"You think no man in the seven kingdoms would kill to be in my position at this moment?" Your heart beat fast and you kept staring in the mirror as Daemon's hand lightly brushed over your pearl and your mouth formed an 'O'. "How pleasure washes over your face and you start to shake when I rub at your little pearl. It's pretty."

His voice was so quiet against your ear and you saw your chest heave quickly in the mirror. Next, Daemon's left hand wandered to your torso to toy with your tits while his right remained between your legs to rub and flick your pearl.

"Mhmm.", you hummed and your eyes threatened to roll back.

"Yes, that's it, my girl. My beautiful girl.", he whispered and your eyes met his' in the reflection of the mirror. Daemon was able to make you finish within minutes. His finger was of incredible strength and persistence and soon your juices were running down your leg. It was hard for you to concentrate on what you saw in the mirror because you just wanted to let yourself fall and enjoy the pleasure you were receiving without perceiving your surroundings but you wanted to listen to Daemon and obey him.

So you watched. The goosebumps on your arms when his heated breath tingled your neck. Your perky nipples that stood hard when being teased by your uncle's skillful finger. Your hair, that fell down skeekly to your chest. Your glistening eyes that fluttered at particularly tight and well-aimed circles performed by Daemon's finger. Your lower lip that were red because your teeth bit on it. You watched everything as Daemon had told you and his satisfied smirk that you could see on his face confirmed that it had been what he wanted.

Eventually you came hard and your knees threatened to give in so your uncle wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. He walked a few steps backwards and sat down on your bed with you on his lap. You panted heavily and let yourself fall against Daemon's chest as you tried to regain a clear mind. In the meantime he ran his hands over your thighs and then after a while turned your head around so you looked at him.

"Good girl.", he whispered and your insides fluttered. He kissed your naked shoulder. "I want you to keep it in mind. The pretty picture you saw in the mirror, my little owl."

Slowly you started to feel like yourself again and your heartbeat felt healthy again so you smiled softly. Then after a while Daemon tapped your thighs and gestured you to stand up so you did. You really liked being so close to him and feeling his arms wrapped around your body but he told you that he had to attend a meeting with the Lord of the tides about the crown's issues with the Braavosi Lord so you got dressed again while Daemon watched you. Then he swiftly ran his hand over your hip and smirked at you.

"I'll see you soon, niece." You nodded while adjusting your undergarment.

"Goodbye, Daemon."

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning you were woken up early by your handmaiden. It was your cousin Aegon’s name day so there would be a feast in the gardens. The maidens helped you get dressed and put your hair up and then you went down to eat.

"Good morrow.", you said to your sister and father and kissed him on his cheek. You felt well – rested which was probably caused by the fact that you had gone to bed quite early the other night and sat down next to Rhaenyra. She seemed to be a little more relaxed now as well and smiled at you.

"Good morrow, sister. Have you heard that Lord Cordin Stark is going to attend the feast?" You were genuinly surprised by that information and looked at your father.

"Really? Why?" He chuckled. "Why not, daughter? It’s a beautiful day and we want to celebrate your cousin."

You smiled. It was beautiful to see your father that happy. You knew that life hadn’t always been easy for him as he and Daemon had lost their father at a young age and the death of your mother… And then shortly after she had passed and he was still grieving for her, first he had been pressured to remarry by his small council, which he eventually had done and a war had threatened the peace in the seven kingdoms. The crown had been able to avoid a bloodshed but it took exhausting, long-lasting negotiations with the Tyrells in High Garden and you knew that your father had suffered. And then of course there was Daemon, an ongoing curse for your father. Of course they loved each other but Daemon was a chaos founder and had given the King more than once a aching headache. But right now… everything seemed to get better.

The Tyrells and ruling Targaryens had concluded a peace treaty, he had had time to process Aemma’s death and had been able to develop a close relationship with his new wife, Laena Velaryon, even though he would never love her the same way he had loved his first wife Aemma and now Daemon had defended the Stepstones from the Crabfeeder in the name of the crown. He had accepted advice from his brother and for the first time in a long time, Viserys had felt as if he could actually trust him. Of course he knew that his brother was still his brother and he would probably never stop messing around and causing problems, but things were good right now. Really good.

And you definitely didn’t want to destroy his new found happiness by him finding out that Daemon had bedded you. Seven hells, he simply couldn’t find out.

[formulas-bitch]

carlos sainz x media reporter/reader

1.4K words

The tension was palpable as the crowd roared, their voices a cacophony of excitement and anticipation. The F1 driver, clad in his signature red racing suit, stood at the starting line, his heart racing in tandem with the engines. He glanced over at the media reporter, her long brown hair dancing in the wind as she leaned against the barricade, her gaze fixed intently on him. Neither of them noticed the other, lost as they were in the thrill of the moment.

As the lights turned green, the driver's car lunged forward, tires squealing in protest. He weaved expertly through the pack, his muscles taut and his reflexes sharp. The reporter, meanwhile, dashed from barricade to barricade, her camera darting this way and that, capturing every breathtaking moment. The air crackled with the energy of their shared passion, and even from afar, they could feel their connection growing stronger.

After the race, as the driver climbed out of his car, sweat-drenched but triumphant, the reporter made her way through the throng of people toward him. She extended her hand, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Congratulations," she said, her voice husky with emotion. "That was an amazing race." He took her hand in his, feeling a spark of electricity course through him at her touch. "Thank you," he replied, his voice equally unsteady. "And thank you for being here today."

They exchanged numbers, promising to meet up later. As he drove away from the track, he couldn't help but wonder if this was the beginning of something truly special. Perhaps, against all odds, they could find a way to make their love work, despite the challenges that lay ahead. For now, though, he was content to bask in the afterglow of victory and the knowledge that she was out there, cheering him on.

Their first date was a whirlwind of laughter and conversation, as they found themselves unable to resist the pull of their shared interests. They talked about racing and media, of course, but also about their families, their dreams, and their fears. It was as if they had known each other for years, rather than just meeting for the first time. As the night wore on, their hands kept finding their way into each other's, a silent promise of where this could lead.

Their relationship moved quickly, fueled by their mutual passion and understanding. They traveled the world together, attending races and press conferences, always at their best when they were by each other's side. The world of F1 and media had never seen anything like it, and the attention they received was both a blessing and a curse. But they managed to navigate it together, always finding solace in each other's arms at the end of a long day.

As time went on, they faced their fair share of challenges. There were rumors and speculation about their relationship, and there were times when they doubted themselves and their future together. But through it all, they never lost sight of what was important: their love for each other and their unwavering support for one another. They knew that they were meant to be together, no matter what the world threw at them.

On a warm summer evening, under a star-filled sky, he got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. Of course, she said yes, her eyes shining with tears of joy. As they embraced, surrounded by the love and support of their families and friends, they knew that they were beginning a new chapter in their lives together. A chapter filled with love, adventure, and endless possibilities. And although the world of F1 and media would always be a part of them, they were determined to make their own story together, one that would stand the test of time.

Their wedding celebrated their unique bond, a union of two people who had found each other in the unlikeliest of places and refused to let anything come between them. The ceremony was small and intimate, with only their closest family and friends in attendance. The bride wore a simple yet elegant white dress, while the groom sported a crisp black tuxedo. As they exchanged vows, their hands clasped tightly together, their eyes never leaving each other, it was clear that their love was as strong as ever. " Carlos would you like to start with your vows please" asked the priest.

“I promise to stand by your side, to support and cherish you in all the seasons of our life together. I vow to be your confidant, your partner in adventure, and your comfort in times of sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to respect and honor you, and to always strive to be the best version of myself for you. I look forward to a lifetime of laughter, love, and growing old together. With all my heart, From this day forward, I promise to love you with all the love I can muster. I vow to be your shelter in the storm, your confidant in moments of uncertainty, and your joy in times of celebration. I promise to cherish the uniqueness that you bring into my life and to build a future that is rich with happiness, laughter, and shared dreams. I commit to being faithful, patient, and understanding, and to always finding ways to express my love for you. With these words, and all the love in my heart, I take you as my wife, and I am honored to be called your husband.” Carlos spoke as he slipped Y/n's ring on her finger.

"Y/n you may say your vows now' spoke the priest

" I love you with my whole heart with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in kisses, glances, and years of adventure by your side. I promise to be your honest, faithful, and loving wife for the rest of my days. I pledge to honor you, love you, and cherish you as my husband today and every day. Today I say, "I do" but to me that means, "I will." I will take your hand and stand by your side in the good and the bad. I dedicate myself to your happiness, success, and smile. I will love you forever. You are my every dream come true, and I can't wait for the reality we get to build together. I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, a warming comfort in the cold, and a shoulder to lean on when life is too much to bear on your own. Give me your hand, and I will give you forever. You are loved more than any metaphor can ever try to express—my love, my husband. I vow to always protect you from harm, to stand with you against your troubles, and to look to you when I need protection. There is no remedy for love," says Thoreau, "but to love more". Today and forever, I will follow his advice and seek my remedy in your arms. You make me laugh, you make me think, and above all, you make me happy. I promise to be your navigator, best friend, and wife. I promise to honor, love, and cherish you through all life's adventures. Wherever we go, we'll go together. and I'm honored to be called your wife" Y/n spoke as she slipped Carlos's ring on his finger.

After the ceremony, they jetted off to their honeymoon, a romantic getaway to the French Riviera. The sunset kissed the water each evening as they dined on the balcony of their luxurious villa, sipping champagne and sharing stories of their past and dreams for the future. They took long walks on the beach, their feet buried in the warm sand, and explored the quaint towns that dotted the coastline. It was a perfect start to their new life together.

Once they returned from their honeymoon, they settled into a comfortable routine. He continued to race in F1, and she remained a prominent figure in the world of media. They made sure to keep their schedules balanced, ensuring that they always made time for each other. They even started a charity together, using their platforms to raise awareness for environmental issues and promote sustainable living. Their passion for each other and their shared causes only seemed to grow stronger with each passing year.

The years flew by, and their love story became the stuff of legends. They became an iconic couple, not only in the world of racing and media but also in popular culture. Fans around the world looked up to them as an example of what true love and commitment could achieve. They never hesitated to share their story with others, hoping that it might inspire others to find their own path to happiness.

[lnfours]

* ✰. — make a friendship bracelet

OH MY GOD i saw “champagne problems” and jumped and screamed and everything🥲

you’re so real for that actually

join the 11k celebration!

you sat at the table, fidgeting with the white table cloth as you watched everyone enjoy their evening. couples in the middle of the room, laughing and smiling and sharing dances. the room was decorated for christmas, the joy in the air not being enough to cancel out the sadness that sat in your heart.

you had joined lando to dance a while ago, dropping his hand and muttering an excuse to escape the crowd of people. he nodded in understanding, another note to add to the mental list of the things he noticed going on with you lately. how you would be the first to back away from a kiss, how the hugs weren’t as long or as tight as they used to be, how ‘i love you’s turned into ‘love you’s.

but the ring box was burning a hole in his pocket. the next big step for the both of you after all this time. even if it only has been a year of being each others number one supporters. he couldn’t help it, he was more than excited to finally ask you to spend the rest of your lives together.

you took another sip from your champagne glass, eyes wandering before they found him making his way to you. you swallowed harshly, sending him a fake smile as he offered his hand to you, “come with me,”

despite your mind telling you not to, you did anyway. following him out to the balcony, the cool december air like a smack to the face. the moonlight shining down on the both of you as the snow started to sparkle on the ground. the noise from inside now muffled by the closed doors and walls.

“what’s up?” you asked, wondering why he decided to bring you out to the balcony in the cold.

he played with the ring box in his pocket, “looked like you needed some air,” he turned to look at you now, “plus you look like you’ve been thinking hard about something. you alright?”

you sighed softly. was now the best time to do it?

“lando, i-” you spoke but stopping when your voice cracked. you didn’t want to do this, not here, not now, not ever. but you had to. for your sake and his own, “we need to talk.”

his heart dropped, looking over at you as a tear rolled down your cheek, “about?”

“us,” you breathed, “i just- i feel like…” you trailed off, suddenly lacking the words to describe your feelings. all of a sudden fighting back the urge to say forget about it all and just fall back into his arms.

“what’s wrong?” his eyes searched yours for answers, but be already knew the answer. no matter how long he had tried to convince himself he was wrong, he knew.

“i think we need to break up,” you said, suddenly not having the nerves to look him in the eyes, “i just, i can’t do this right now. not with everything going on in my life, i can’t sit here and pretend that everything is okay when it’s not.”

he stood in silence, looking back out to the snow. he knew how the past couple of months have been taking a toll on you mentally. things in your own life now making you feel like you need to shut everyone out. but most of all, he felt guilty. he couldn’t give you what you needed right now, and he desperately wanted to. but with the constant traveling and trying to make things work, it wasn’t the right time.

he didn’t say another word, turning to the balcony doors. you turned after him, “lando say something, please.”

he couldn’t. he couldn’t find words after you had dropped his fragile heart. now you were the one feeling the guilt as you chased after him through the crowd, people stopping to look at your distraught, tear stained face.

he walked to the table where his family was sitting, slipping the box out of his pocket and placing it on the white cloth in front of his mother. she only stared at it before looking up at her son, who’s once happy face now wore nothing but pain, tears and sadness. when her eyes fell on you, you let out a quiet sob.

“thanks anyway, mum.”

“lando,” she called to him, watching him make his way through the crowd. your feet stayed glued to the floor, eyes locked on the black velvety box.

you had just broken the heart of the one boy you ever truly loved.

[peacelovepandora]

New Breath, All Mine (Daddy's Here Sequel)

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

everyone was heartbroken after the first part, and the demand for a sequel was high, so here it is. also, I want to give full credit to @vampxra for proposing this wonderful sequel idea!

I hope you like this (and also happy birthday @vampxra consider this a b-day present) ! sorry to put y'all through the trauma of the first part hopefully this makes up for it

do yourself a favor and listen to The Songcord during the first part of this one too lmao

enjoy xx.

Time no longer felt like a factor. Your existence was only peace. Smiling to yourself, you stared up at the swinging tendrils of the massive, effulgent Tree of Souls. The sky was dark and the stars--that you admired so deeply--winked down at you. As you laid on your back, allowing the softness of the ground to relax you, the feeling of an additional presence pulled you from your serenity.

Sitting up, you looked around until your eyes fell on a tall figure. As the figure walked towards you, it slowly developed from a silhouette to a blurred image before finally materializing.

Your eyes widened as you stood up, preparing to greet the approaching presence. Though you'd never gotten the chance to meet him, something within you confirmed that he was exactly who you believed he was.

He slowly made his way up the slanted roots before coming face-to-face with you. Your mouth dropped in awe as you gawked up at him. Amused by your reaction, he tilted his head, which slightly agitated the beads in his hair.

"No greeting for me?" he asked, smirking as he opened his arms.

"You are . . ." you breathed, "the great warrior. Brother of my father. Uncle of me. Tsu'tey."

His smirk grew into a smile as you rushed forward before colliding with his chest. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he closed his arms around your torso.

Tucking your face into his neck, you spoke again. "It is so wonderful to finally meet you."

You felt his large hands briefly rub your back. "And you, as well, my strong little warrior." He pulled away, placing hands on your shoulders. "But, I am afraid I cannot stay."

You frowned at his words. "Why?"

He smiled gently, grabbing one of your hands in his. "I am here to deliver a message to you. The Great Mother has sent me."

Your eyebrows flew up as your lips parted. Remaining quiet, you waited for him to continue. "You have been called," he stated simply.

When you didn't reply, he placed a gentle hand on your cheek. "You have called back--by your family," he continued, "The Great Mother sent me to you, allowing your family to communicate this message. However, the choice is yours."

After a long moment, with wide eyes, you finally choked out a response. "You mean, I can return to them?"

Tsu'tey bowed his head, giving a single nod.

For the first time since you'd arrived--and you had no clue how long you'd been there--you felt conflicted. As much as you wanted to see your family, you felt guilty about leaving The Great Mother when she had called you to her.

Sensing your battling thoughts, Tsu'tey gave your hand a squeeze. Snapping out of your daze, you looked back up at him.

"The Great Mother understands all. Nothing will change her love for you. You will join Her again."

His words were the confirmation that you needed. Joy washed over you as a teary smile crossed your face. Raising his hand to your lips, you placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

"Thank you, my wonderful uncle," you whispered, "I wish we could have talked longer. I will miss you."

Another soft smile spread across his face. "We will see each other again," he replied gently, "and we will talk for all of eternity, if that is your wish. For now, go be with your family."

Taking one last look at him, you finally nodded and smiled. He gazed fondly at you before stepping forward. Then, he gripped both sides of your head before leaning in. As soon his lips connected with your forehead, the world around you went white.

-

"The Great Mother protects only the balance of life," Mo'at explained in a low voice, "The choice will be Hers."

"I understand," Jake replied, nodding his head, "I just . . . wanna give it a try."

Mo'at nodded once before raising her hands, signaling for The People to begin. The luminescent areas of the Tree of Souls, and the surrounding roots, began to flash repeatedly. Your body, which your family had brought back to the forest, was spread beneath the glowing tendrils. Slim, glowing tendrils--that were the size of blades of grass--wrapped around your body, connecting your physical body to Eywa. The People chanted--all of their voices becoming one as they begged for Eywa to return your soul.

Jake, who was sitting on your right side, stared down at your peaceful face, praying for a miracle. Neytiri, who sat on the opposite side, watched your state while rubbing a gentle thumb over your hair. Your brothers sat on either side of your legs.

As Mo'at continued to conduct the revival ceremony, the flashing lights grew faster.

"Ting mikyun ayoer, ruxte, ma nawma sa'nok!" Mo'at chanted.

"Srung si poeru, ma Eywa!" The People chanted.

"Please," Jake whispered, "Bring her back to us."

Neytiri, being the only one that heard his words, placed a hand on his. He looked up, meeting her gaze before giving her a soft smile.

"Eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia," Mo'at repeated, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.

Arms spread out, she shook over your body, allowing herself to become lost within the ceremony. The lights within the roots flashed faster, resembling a strobe light pattern now. Then, after a long minute of chanting, Mo'at came to a sudden stop. Snapping her eyes open, she signaled for the people to cease their chants.

She lowered her gaze to your body, moving slowly as she kneeled over you. Jake's heart pounded against his ribcage as he waited for Mo'at to speak.

With an awestruck expression, Mo'at finally broke the silence. "She is with us."

Jake withheld a gasp as he snapped his head to Neytiri. Neytiri, who had been looking at her mother, turned to Jake. They stared at one another for a moment before lowering their gazes to you. Reaching out, Jake brushed a loose strand of hair from your forehead before cupping your face.

The air was still. No one dared to speak, or even take a breath. All they could do was wait.

-

"She is with us."

The echoing voice was familiar to your foggy mind. However, distinguishing who it belonged to was too much effort for you. At the moment, all you could do was try to center yourself.

For the longest time, you felt disconnected--like you were a floating presence, suspended in an airless vacuum. However, ever-so-slowly, you began to feel the world around you.

There was air. It was crisp, but not uncomfortably cold. Something soft was behind you, but you couldn't distinguish what it was. Your existence slowly morphed from nothingness to darkness.

It's dark, you thought to yourself, before realization began to dawn on you, My eyes must be closed.

Then, the object behind you became clearer as you felt gravity pushing down on you.

I'm laying down, you realized, I'm laying down on something soft, and I feel it behind me.

The elements of the surrounding world, that you'd once known, were slowly beginning to materialize in your mind, grounding you from your spiritual state.

As you became aware of the body that you were in, you struggled to move. However, you felt paralyzed.

Slowly, my child. Not yet, an unknown, yet comforting voice rang within your head, startling you, You will return at your own pace.

Suddenly, something agitated you. Then, it agitated another part of you. Concentrating, you tried to picture your surroundings.

My face, you decided, Someone is touching my face.

The touch did wonders to ground you further. It gave you perspective. You relaxed into its warm embrace, allowing the remaining parts of yourself to materialize. Before long, you felt steady.

Your body was laying down on the soft, marsh-like material of the ground. Small tendrils were gripping the sides of your skin. A large hand was cupping your cheek, slowly rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone. At last, you felt like you could breathe.

"Hhhh." A small, almost intangible, sigh, left your lips.

The thumb froze its movements, lifting itself above your skin, hovering shakily over your cheek.

"Baby girl?" a hesitant voice spoke.

It was so close. It had to be right above you. Fatigue faded and a new wave of strength washed over you. Using this strength, you concentrated on the muscles of your eyes. After a minute, you managed to lift them open.

At first, everything was white. However, the white quickly faded as a hazy world transpired before you. You were too busy trying to clear your vision to take notice of the gasps and screams around you.

"Oh Great Mother!" a voice wailed, "Great Mother, thank you! Thank you!"

The back of your head was cupped and two faces nuzzled into your cheeks. Blinking rapidly, you finally saw the world clear around you. The faces lifted, and you met the gazes of your mother and father.

After processing their faces, you finally gained the strength to speak.

"Hi." Your voice came out breathlessly.

Smiling widely, they both broke into a relieved wave of laughter. Their eyes, which were pouring with tears, glanced at each other before returning to you.

"Hello, my love," Neytiri replied as Jake spoke a raspy, "Hi, baby girl."

"Baby sister?"

Your eyes shifted behind your father's head. A joyous expression spread across your face as Neteyam and Lo'ak came into view. Tears were leaking from their faces, as well.

"Big brothers," you greeted, smiling widely at them.

Neteyam ran his hand over his face, wiping the tears, before scooting closer to you. When he reached his hand out, you immediately outstretched yours. The two of you grabbed hands and squeezed tightly. Lo'ak did the same, grabbing your other hand.

"I love you, big brothers," you said before turning to your father, "Daddy?"

He'd been staring at you, an expression of astonishment still evident on his face. "Daddy?" you called again.

He snapped out of his trance. "Y-Yes?" he replied, nerves evident in his voice, "I'm here, I'm here."

"Uncle Tsu'tey," you answered, making his mouth fall agape, "He delivered the message--from all of you. He told me that you all were calling to me, and that The Great Mother could return me to you."

Jake's eyes, which had slightly calmed, were overwhelmed with a new wave of tears. Tilting his head, he gripped the back of your neck.

"Is that right?" he asked, shifting his eyes to Neytiri.

When you turned to your mother, she smiled at you. "He is your family too," she whispered, brushing a finger over your cheek, "He came for guidance."

Nodding your head, you released your brothers' hands before cupping the back of your parents' heads. They leaned in, allowing you to hold them closely. Jake and Neytiri reached their hands out, pulling Neteyam and Lo'ak in as the family wrapped themselves around your small body.

-

As your family walked away from the tree, along with the rest of The People, you looked up at your father.

"Daddy?" you called.

Jake, who had been walking with an arm around your shoulders, looked down. "Yeah, baby?"

Your mother, who was holding the hand farthest from Jake, looked over at the sound of your voice.

"Are we still living with the Metkayina?" you asked.

He sighed before tightening his grip on you. "It isn't safe for you here, because this is our home. It's known to everyone," he answered, making you nod in response, "but with the Metkayina, you'll be safer. And, should anything happen, you'll be protected by Tonowari and his family while we go out on the field."

Gazing in front of you, you answered in a quiet voice. "I won't be fighting anymore."

"No." Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, and Lo'ak replied together.

"Hell no. Absolutely not. Out of the question," Jake continued sternly, "We lost you once, but were fortunate enough to be blessed with a miracle."

When you didn't respond, he glanced down at you. Sensing his eyes, you lowered your gaze before nodding obediently.

Realizing that he'd let his emotions get the best of him, he halted his movements before turning to you and cupping your face with both hands. "I'm sorry, baby girl. I just--I got a little . . . " He stopped, closing his eyes to collecting his words. "I won't lose you again," he whispered, shaking his head as his eyes grew hazy, "I wouldn't--I couldn't even bear it the first time."

Feeling your own eyes gloss over, you tilted your head before gripping one of his wrists. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His hands, which were rubbing your cheeks, moved up to cup the top of your head. They smoothed over your head and ran down your lengthy hair. He'd always petted your hair, but you knew that this act of comfort was moreso for himself, than for you.

He couldn't believe you were there, standing right in front of him, breathing again. He was so afraid that, if he disconnected his physical touch, you would disappear and fade into a cloud of dust.

"Don't apologize," he finally replied, "Don't you ever apologize for this. If anything . . . we should be thanking you . . . for coming back to us."

He shifted his gaze to look at the rest of your family. Neteyam stepped closer before taking your free hand. After smiling glossily at each member of your family, you looked back at your father.

"I still needed all of you," you replied, "and you still needed me."

Cupping the back of your head, Jake placed a kiss on your forehead.

-

The pain, so familiar, was almost as strong as the first time you'd felt it. The vision of your chest, and the red liquid leaking from it, was branded into your mind. It was so clear, like you were in the moment, once again.

"Y/N."

You looked up at Neteyam, and his petrified gaze that paralyzed you.

"Baby girl, look at me. Open you eyes."

Sucking in a harsh breath, your eyes snapped open as you jerked yourself to a sitting position. Panting, you blinked rapidly before looking around, desperately trying to establish your surroundings.

"Baby, hey. Hey, hey, hey."

Arms were around you, restricting your movements. The panic spiked within you as you thrashed harder, still seized by the terror of your nightmare.

"Shh, shh, shh. I know, I know. It's okay, it's okay."

You finally recognized your father's soft coos. Freezing your movements, you looked around the dimly-lit hut. However, when your eyes failed to locate him, your breath picked up again.

"Dad," you wheezed, feeling your chest tighten up.

"Here, baby," Jake whispered, gently turning your head to face him, "I'm right here."

He was cradling you, but his arms were also restricting your arms, keeping them at your sides. You wheezed as you struggled to break from your frantic state.

"I was--It was--"

He only nodded, rocking you in his lap. "I know, I know."

Jake knew what your nightmare was about. In fact, he'd been expecting this. There was no way that you'd adjust back to your life without the trauma you'd experienced coming back to haunt you in some form.

Your shallow breaths prohibited your ability to form a sentence. "I can't--I can't--"

"I got you," he whispered, nodding down at you, "I got you, baby. It's all over. It's all over."

He grabbed your shaking hand and pressed it to his chest, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. As you rested your head in the crook of his elbow, Jake kept his gaze fiercely trained on you and stopped his rocking movements.

"You feel this?" he asked, squeezing you gently to emphasize his grip on you, "I've got you. You're mine. My baby, my little girl. All mine." He shook his head. "No one's taking you from me ever again."

Shaking all over, you sucked in a harsh, audible breath as tears began pouring down your cheeks. A long, loud sob tore through your lips before you took in another loud breath.

It took everything in Jake to hold back his own tears. The fragility of your state made it imperative for him to show no signs of weakness. You were looking to him for comfort--for protection from the horrors of your mind.

"Big breaths, baby. Big breaths," he instructed, resuming his rocking movements, "That's it."

Using his chest as a reference, you slowly adjusted yourself to imitate his breathing patterns. He flattened his large hand over yours.

"That's my girl." His voice proved to be highly therapeutic for you. It was the first voice you'd heard, and the last one you'd heard. "So good. You're doing so good."

After a long few minutes, he'd finally managed to ground you from your panic attack. Your breaths grew even and your sobs quieted. Apart from Jake's continuous rocking motions, no signs of you distress remained.

"All mine," he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief as he gazed down at you.

As your eyes began to droop, you snapped them open. Finally breaking from Jake's grasp, you sat up before scooting next to him, never taking your hand off of his chest.

He squeezed the hand that he was holding. "What is it, baby?"

"I can't go back to sleep," you whimpered, shaking your head, "I won't."

Jake sighed, completely understanding your fear. However, he desperately wanted you to get some more rest, knowing the toll a lack of sleep could take on you--physically and emotionally.

He thought for a moment, rubbing his thumb over your hand. Then, an idea finally materialized in his head. Gently, he stood up, raising you up with him. When you gave him a questioning look, he nodded towards the hut entrance.

"C'mon," he said, taking your hand and guiding you towards the doorway.

The two of you walked a small distance before arriving at a hammock that your family had set up outside the hut. Jake sat on the swinging object. Then, he spread his legs out and positioned himself to lay down. Finally, he gave your hand a gentle tug, signaling you to come to him.

"C'mere."

He pulled you into the spot next to him, cupping your head as you placed it on his chest.

"I don't want to sleep," you stressed, earning a shush from him.

"We aren't," he whispered, "We're stargazing."

For a long moment, Jake waited until he felt you relax against him--completely letting your guard down--before initializing the second part of his plan.

His mind hadn't wandered to his Earth life in years. However, a soft, Earthling tune, echoing from the distant memories of his childhood, overtook his mind when you'd first protested the idea of sleeping.

Prior to Pandora, music--or any artistic realm--never proved to be Jake's forte. However, life with the Omaticaya had changed every fiber of his DNA. Many nights had been spent singing, dancing, chanting, and celebrating. Therefore, it wasn't too out-of-character for him to sing for you. However, it was unusual for him to sing an Earth song.

"Stay awake, don't rest your head," he slowly began, making your eyes--which you hadn't realized had closed--snap back open, "Don't lie down upon your bed."

He couldn't place where he knew the song from but, for some reason, the lyrics came with a foreign ease. "While the moon drifts in the skies, stay awake don't close your eyes."

Glancing down to check on you, he watched your eyes begin to droop again. Acting carefully, he began petting your head, further coaxing your tiredness. "Though the world is fast asleep, though your pillow soft and deep," he continued, dropping his voice to a lower volume, "You're not sleepy as you seem. Stay awake, don't nod and dream . . ."

Just as he'd hoped, your head fell limp on his chest. Releasing a breath, he leaned down and gave you a kiss. Then, he relaxed against the hammock, enjoying the feeling of your beating heart and peaceful breaths--simple things he was so thankful that you'd been given a second chance at possessing.

Taglist : @eywas-daughter @pturnersblog @bombshe77 @faatxma @scryarchives @gamorxa @222krn @ellabellabus07 @perfectprofessorloverapricot @raefoxi@egirl @vampxra @itssiaaax @tinkerbelle05 @brittclass-18 @missroro @aisylazzy @leomatsuzaki @joey-hoey @eternallyvenus @mae-is-crazy

[obfuscatingveil]

@chibitantei asked:

[ ABANDONED ] :  for  our  muses  to  meet  in  an  abandoned  building(any persona muse you think would fit this best)

✧ — ⋆   𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 . || ACCEPTING

This was probably a bad idea, wasn't it? While this place wasn't exactly a construction zone, there is probably a reason why this old Tokyo office building was abandoned. And yet, here sat a raven-haired boy with black hair, staring up at the moon through a hole in the ceiling. It all felt a bit too perfect, this place.

Nature's beauty coming together with the passive marching of time. Everything aged. Everything fell apart. But then why was this place so...

The scraping of a broken door opening was heard. It was the same noise he heard when he came in. With a turn of his head, Ryoji addressed the person that was making their approach. Still obscured by darkness.

"Hey, didn't you see the police tape?" Mochizuki would ask as he hopped off the desk he'd claimed as his seat.

"You're breaking the rules by being here, y'know? Although I won't tell if you won't!"

His excitement may have been a bit premature, as he still didn't know who this person was. He did kind of break the law by entering here.

[dyns33]

Strange way of life

No, it's not about my sweet Pedro (I'll let Silva be happy with his cowbow), it's a new Cooper Howard story, yaaaaaay !

Her cousins ​​had gently teased her when the name had appeared on her wrist on her eighteenth birthday.

It was nothing unusual, it happened to everyone, even if what was once a joy was now the memory of a lost world. It was very rare for two soulmates to be in the same vault, very rare indeed. Legends.

And unfortunately for Y/N, she was no exception.

If Lucy and Norman were snickering, it was because of her reaction when they read the name.

"… Cooper Howard ? My soulmate is the actor Cooper Howard ?! The famous Cooper Howard ?!"

"Uh, no, I don't think so."

"He would be over two hundred years old. Sorry, Y/N, but he's long dead. Maybe he's his descendant, or a guy with the same name."

"But I love Cooper Howard ! I've seen all his movies ! That would make sense !"

"Not really, no." Norm said, visibly a little sad at his cousin's excitement.

Sure, maybe the great Cooper Howard was still alive, in a hibernation chamber, in another vault, and waiting for her.

But even if that was the case, there was little chance that they would ever meet. There was no indication that it would be possible to come out soon, and so the rule was to ignore names when choosing a partner.

If not, humanity would have died out long ago.

Unfortunately for Vault 33, most of the young people were quite romantic. Her brother could try to be reasonable, Lucy stopped mocking to hug her cousin, saying that it was wonderful that she was destined for such a wonderful man.

They had been fans of the cowboy since childhood. At the same time, there weren't many other movies to watch.

A few years later, Lucy had her name, which wasn't that of an actor. At least, not a known actor in the vault, even if it was special. Titus Maximus.

Norman noted that it sounded like a name from Ancient Rome. He joked that his sister and cousin probably had soulmates who could travel through time.

While Y/N wanted to wait as long as possible before making a decision about her love life, Lucy sadly accepted that she would probably never meet Maximus, asking to meet a man from Vault 32 to get married. This pleased neither young Norman, for security reasons, nor Y/N, for emotional reasons. Besides the fact that he could be a dangerous cannibal, ugly and mean, there was nothing to say that Lucy and him would love each other. She could wait for her Titus.

"No, I don't want to wait anymore. I want love, real love. I can't keep dreaming and having fun with Chet…"

"Chet ? Your other cousin ? That's disgusting, Lucy !"

"I know ! That's why I need a husband. And if I ever meet Maximus, I could always divorce him. You can wait for your Cooper if you want, cowboy or whatever. I understand and I don't judge you. So don't judge me either."

That wasn't enough to prevent the massacre that followed. It was only because she had retreated to her room that Y/N escaped death, not seeing Overseer MacLean being kidnapped either.

More than this idea of ​​marriage, she found that leaving the shelter to go looking for him was very bad. She had never really loved her uncle, finding him strange. Her parents had also always been wary of him, even more so after the death of her mother's sister who they followed here before the plague.

But Y/N loved her cousins, both Norm and Lucy, and so there was no way she was going to let her go alone.

The poor widow drugged Chet because he would have been a burden, she already knew that her little brother would only help her get out, and when her cousin insisted on coming, she couldn't say no.

They were probably among the smartest, bravest and most skilled people in the vault. Together, they had a better chance of surviving outside.

However, nothing could prepare them for this devastated world. It was nothing like what their teachers had said. The sun was hot, the air full of dust, the earth barren, and the people rude.

The worst was that mercenary in the city of Philly, who started shooting at everyone while laughing, ready to kill Lucy because she was defending the poor man whose leg he had blown off.

Y/N didn't really want to get involved. She admitted that the treatment inflicted on the one who seemed to be a doctor and his dog was not normal, and that in other circumstances she would have intervened.

But they were not there for that, and if they wanted to find Lucy's father, it was probably better to avoid trouble.

This misadventure was not in vain, however. Because not only were they saved by a man named Titus Maximus wearing a huge sparkling armor, but they also recovered the doctor's head which could be used as a bargaining chip against Henry MacLean.

And above all, they had crossed paths with this ghoul dressed as a cowboy, exactly like in Cooper Howard's films, who spoke exactly like in Cooper Howard's films.

Since the atomization, meetings between soulmates were very rare. So double meetings ? Impossible.

Until a monster ate the head, Lucy kept jumping up and down like a child, terribly happy, immediately forgetting her failed marriage and a little bit about the reason for their presence near this radioactive lake. Even if she hadn't had time to give Maximus her name, there was little risk in saying that their savior was made for her.

"It's him ! I know it's him ! I only saw his face for a few seconds, but he's so handsome, so brave ! Did you see how he didn't hesitate for a second to jump in front of us and take the bullet for us ?"

"Yes, I did."

"I wonder why that horrible mercenary wanted to take that poor man, and what he was going to do to him. Do you think he has a soulmate ? Oh, do you think the doctor had a soulmate ?!"

"I don't know." Y/N sighed, trying to convince herself that it wasn't because the mercenary looked and talked like Cooper Howard that he was the actor, or her soulmate.

She could have asked him the question, when he caught up with them without too much difficulty, while they were wondering how to get the head back. Because without the head, there was no way to save Lucy's father.

Her poor cousin tried to explain it to the Ghoul, while he plunged her again and again into the water, while Y/N could only watch and beg, tied to a pole.

The plan he had put in place to attract the beast worked well, too well, and in the end, in addition to losing what he was looking for, the mercenary had his bag snatched, which obviously contained important things.

"Fuck… Fuck !" he yelled, pointing his gun at Lucy, as if the poor girl was responsible.

He didn't shoot. Visibly changing his mind, he took them both, forcing them to walk without water or food for days, to an unknown destination.

Several times, Y/N hesitated to give her name, to see his reaction. When he asked them after putting a bullet in Roger's head, her cousin answered first and he jumped, not giving Y/N time to speak.

He had understood that they were cousins. He must have thought that they had the same name, MacLean. Not Y/L/N.

She could have said it. Several times. But saying it was getting an answer, and she didn't know which one she wanted.

Either this man wasn't her soulmate and they were going to die. Or they were destined. And Y/N couldn't believe that this abomination, this heartless monster, could be for her. Even less that he could be Cooper Howard, the good sheriff who punished the bad guys and saved damsels in distress.

No, it couldn't be him. She was almost certain of it when he cut off Lucy's finger with a smile.

Arriving in front of the Super Duper Market, it was a surprise to be untied. Then he announced that he was taking two women in more or less good condition, in exchange for vials.

He hadn't killed them, just sold them.

No, he couldn't be her Cooper.

It was totally impossible.

But as Lucy walked through the store trying to stay dignified, holding back her tears, Y/N couldn't help but turn to the Ghoul. If she was going to die, she had to know.

He frowned, waiting to see what she would say, probably in an attempt to gain his pity.

"Are you Cooper Howard ?"

The question surprised him for a moment. Something flashed in his eyes, indicating that it had been a long time since he had heard that name. But he quickly resumed his closed demeanor.

"Not anymore, sweetie."

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

The doors of the Super Dupper automatically closed before Y/N could say anything else or see his face. It probably wouldn't have made much difference anyway.

[lucygxybaird]

billy x reader - reader turns billy into a vampire

tw: injury, death (i guess??)

Billy has never been the sort of man to count his days — he’s been too busy scraping by, working from dawn til dusk, if not simply trying to survive under a hail of bullets and enmity that sometimes feels unrelenting. 

There have been times where he’s felt the whole world is against him, and if his faith in God had been strong enough, he would wonder what exactly he’d done to earn the wrath of the Almighty. Loss, violence and grief have dogged his steps since he was sixteen, but he was able to bear it all, either through sheer stubbornness or his belief that he was doing the right thing. 

And then he lost you.

Whatever force that fueled him, whether it’s the soul as his mother would have claimed, or the single-minded fire which separates man from beast, shuddered and died the moment he saw you lying there. So still, your skin waxen and white, your eyes half-hidden behind lowered lashes that didn’t fully conceal your empty gaze. He’d cradled you in his arms for hours — even now, he’s not sure for how long — until Manuela had finally convinced him to let you rest.

And then you came home. 

It took weeks, long enough for the winter to begin bleeding into spring. But you returned to him, standing outside his window, your icy fingers caressing his face as you told him you needed to be invited in. He didn’t understand, at first; but when you explained everything, when you told him what you were, he’d felt only a joy so intense that it bordered on pain. It didn’t matter to him what you needed to sustain you, just that you’d returned to him. 

He had asked you — or tried to, anyway — if you would change him. He’s desperate to be with you forever, to never risk losing you again, but there’s a whisper of temptation, of yearning for something else. The idea that he never has to fear illness again, that silent specter which has laid waste to so much in his life. 

For so long, he’s expected that the thread of his fate will be cut by a bullet, but always — with each sore throat, a sniffle, an ache he can’t quite explain — he wonders if it’s his turn. If he will die, ashen and wracked with coughing, soaked with sweat, cheeks sunken and eyes immense in his face, the way his mother and brother did. If you would have to watch him fade away, dirty snow melting into the soil, just as he had to do. 

But if you change him, he’ll be free of both, free from the fear of guns and fever. 

Compared to being with you for eternity, the idea pales in comparison, but it’s there. 

That night, the night you finally came back, you asked him to think on it. And he has, obsessively, his thoughts turning and churning like a water wheel in a flash flood. His dreams have been full of thirst, of a body so powerful and so altered that it almost seems beyond his control. He wonders if it will hurt, and how badly, if the longer he lives, the more of his human life he’ll forget. Will he lose his mother’s face? His father’s voice? Joe’s smile? Tunstall’s kindnesses? 

But — he comes back to this, every time — he’ll have you. The two of you will have each other. Whatever he may lose, whatever he has to sacrifice, it will be worth it. 

He’s thought about it, he has. And he knows what he wants. This life, his first life, has been nothing but one trial after another, after another, an endless march through the vale of tears, and none of it was by choice. And, really, the more he considers it, this really isn’t a choice, either. 

He will never, never let anything separate the two of you again, certainly not something as prosaic as six feet and a coverlet of dirt. 

Your fingers are combing through his hair as he lays with his head pillowed on your chest, body curled to fit against yours. It took him a little while to become used to you as you really are, when you dropped the facade that you were still living. You don’t eat regular food anymore, of course, although sometimes you take a sip of his coffee (it’s hot enough that you can feel it, you say, and bitter enough that you can taste a hint of it on your tongue). 

You don’t bother to pump your lungs like a bellows, forcing your chest to rise and fall; sometimes, in fact, your entire body is so still that he feels as though there’s a statue sitting at the kitchen table, or nestled in his arms in bed as you are now. And the only sound of breathing echoing in the room now is his, which means that the silence is only broken up by an occasional sigh, whether it’s the wind or his own murmur.

So when you speak, he can’t help but jump, his body jerking against yours like a wave splashing up against the rocks. Your fingers go still, nestled in his hair. 

Despite his hammering heart, Billy smiles when you giggle. “Sorry,” you say. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” he says. He props himself up on an elbow to look into your face. “I was just…thinkin’, I guess.”

You smile up at him, reaching up a cool hand to lay your palm against his cheek. “I know,” you say. “That’s what I was trying to ask you. I just wanted to know what was on your mind. I could practically hear the gears turning in your head.”

Billy snorts softly. He lays down next to you, putting his hand against yours to keep it against his face. He’s always run warm, and your porcelain touch feels exquisite, soothing as a cool sip of water on a hot day. 

“Was there smoke comin’ out of my ears?”

You giggle again. He decided a long time ago that your laugh was just about his favorite sound in the world, but now, after being so sure he would never hear it again, he thinks there’s no way heaven itself could have sweeter music. 

“Not quite,” you say, and you resume the soothing stroking motion through his curls. “What were you thinking about?”

“You,” he says. His tone indicates this should be obvious. What else would be be thinking about, ever? “Us. Forever.”

You don’t say anything for what feels like a very long time. He wonders if it seems as long to you, or if even little increments of time don’t mean the same thing to you as they do to him. Years, he can understand. Decades, even. But how does a minute feel? Does it stretch until it’s gossamer-thin, like a spoke of a spiderweb? Or does it condense, until it’s smaller than a grain of sand, so that a countless multitude can be clutched in the palm of a hand?

“Billy, I need you to be sure,” you say finally. “I would never want to deprive you of anything, even if it means—”

“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t even speak it. I’m not goin’ anywhere, whether you change me or not.” He sits up, the bedclothes pooling around his waist, and you do the same, hugging your own side of the blanket to your chest. 

You smile at him, though it’s more like a weeping willow than anything else, pulled down and giving an air of melancholy. “I love you too much to want anything less than a beautiful life for you,” you say. “I hope it includes me, but—”

“Includes you?” 

A part of him knows his mother would be horrified that he keeps interrupting a lady, but he can’t help himself.

“Includes you?” he repeats. “Of course it includes you. You can’t deprive me of anything, because you’re everything to me.” He offers you a have smile, one weighed down at a corner by chagrin. “If you don’t know that, I’ve been doin’ something wrong.” 

Your cool fingers fold around his. “I know,” you say. “You’re everything to me, too. And there’s nothing I want more than to be with you through each century to come.” 

Billy’s heart trips in his chest, and he wonders if you can hear it. “So…is that a yes?”

There is another moment of silence that stretches between the two of you like a bubble threatening to burst, and then you’re both laughing — nervous, thin laughter at first, which blooms into full belly-laughs. You lean forward and bury your face against his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap.

It’s moments like this where it’s so easy to forget everything. Not just losing you, or learning the truth of who you are, but the world itself. It all falls away, softening, blurring, until it’s just a matter of perspective to convince himself that the two of you are the only two people who exist, who matter. Billy buries his face against your hair, still grinning. 

“It sounds like you just proposed to me,” you say, another giggle erupting from your chest.

Your words make him chuckle all over again, because that’s exactly what he was thinking, too, exactly why he’s laughing so hard. It’s only funny because asking you to be his wife — which, by the way, is definitely something he’s considered — seems like a molehill compared to a mountain, when held up next to the idea of altering his very state of being. 

Billy sets you back by the shoulders, framing your face between his hands. “Darlin’,” he says, bringing on a fresh shower of giggles. “Will you do me the honor of becomin’ my…?”

He pauses, and whispers, “Is maker a good word?”

“Yes,” you whisper back.

He clears his throat. “Will you do me the honor — stop laughin’ — of becomin’ my maker?”

In the beat of silence between his question and your answer, Billy can feel the mirth melting away, like morning frost on the grass. It was funny, at first, but it really isn’t anymore. 

You touch his cheek. “Of course I will,” you say. “If that’s what you want.”

He presses his lips against yours, feeling the sensation of a snowflake alighting on his skin. “It’s the only thing I want,” he says. 

You wait until midnight, when the darkness of the night is deep, the air still and soft, and the stars are veiled by silvery-white cloud, so that their distant eyes are covered and it truly is just you and Billy. You sit up in bed, and Billy leans back into your arms, his head nestling on your shoulder. He feels the points of your teeth press against his skin, pausing for a moment more before they break the fragile barrier.

There is a moment of pain, of panic fueled by instinct — prey, realizing a moment too late, that he has been caught — and then his vision starts to blur. His heartbeat thunders in his ears, too loud, too fast, before it reaches such a fever pitch that his chest aches. And then, as darkness encroaches, it begins to slow. Thudthudthud becomes thus-thud-thud, and then thud — thud — thud. 

Thud…

He feels you pull away, soothing your tongue over the wound like a mother cat.

Thud…

Your hand cups his jaw, pinching gently at the corners of his mouth to part his lips.

…thud…

He catches the scent of rust, wafting close to his nose.

There is silence for a moment, stretching, growing so heavy that he can feel it like a creature crouching on his ribs.

…thud…

Something presses against his mouth, the rusty smell growing stronger. You pinch at the corners of his mouth again, and without thinking, his tongue comes out and encounters resistance, meeting something solid and cold. 

Something — damp and heavy, like the air after a storm. The rust is on his tongue now, coating his lips. His throat works, though he finds it hard to swallow. You coax his head back, and something starts to drip down.

Silence. 

Silence.

Silence.

…thud… 

It feels as though his mind has retreated to a distant corner, curling up on itself, watching from very far away. His mind waits for another thud, but there isn’t one. It waits and waits, but now there is just quiet. Stillness. 

This little spark of thought drifts for a while, like a dandelion seed buffeted around on the breeze. Enough of him is left to be aware of you cradling him in your arms, and it’s all he needs to feel safe. 

He doesn’t know how long it is before the spark of himself starts to grow brighter, illuminating more around it. He is aware, first, of how still he is, as if he’s bound hand and foot. But when he directs an idea down to his fingers, they move when instructed — if anything, the response is quicker, more fluid, than it was before. 

(Which is saying something for the man who is — or was — the fastest draw in the West.)

And then sound begins to return to him, slowly at first, a trickle, and then he realizes he can hear a familiar rustling noise, but it’s too clear for it to be what he thinks it is. It reminds him of a deer stepping gently, carefully, through foliage, but — can he hear all the way to the woods? 

Scents hit him next. He really had no idea that everything had its own unique smell. The linen of the sheets is different from the cotton of his shirt, from the flannel of your nightgown, and it’s a world away from the oak of your bed frame and the pine that makes up your cabin. He can smell the ashes of the fire in the stove, and the breeze drifting in through the window carries a veritable feast of aroma. 

Grass, trees, the air itself, and most deliciously, a feverish, twitching scent that comes even more strongly when he hears that rustling noise again. 

“Billy?” 

Your voice is soft, but at the same time the noise is such that it seems to fill his head for a moment. Maybe recalling your own first moments, you wait for a few moments. The sound settles.

You say, “Billy, open your eyes.” 

His eyelashes flutter, part. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but it doesn’t matter. The moonlight alone is so bright that he has to squint. 

You help him sit up, and he looks at you. His lips part to expel a nonexistent breath at the sight of you. His eyesight, like his other senses, is so much more acute now; you look like an angel, luminous in a fall of silver light spilling through the window. 

His thoughts feel scrambled, twisted and flipped around, like someone took his head and shook it. Even his own name, or the events of just hours before, feel remote and strange, but as his eyes latch onto yours, the most important thing he knows comes back to him.

“You’re mine?” he says, and reaches out to touch your cheek.

You smile at him. “I’m yours,” you agree. “And you’re mine.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment or two, and Billy thinks he would be happy sitting here just like this. And then the breeze shifts again, bringing that hot, red scent close to him again. 

Fire leaps up in his throat, and it must show in his face, because you smile gently again. “Come with me,” you say, getting to your feet and holding out your hand. “I’ll show you how to hunt.”

His body responds to his desire to get up so fluidly that it feels like he blinks and he’s on his feet. Billy puts his hand in yours, and you lead him outside.

The world is bright and shining, as if you’ve emerged into the belly of a star. Scents, sounds and sensations wash over him in a wave, and he tightens his grip on your hand as though he’s afraid he’ll be swept away. He looks over at you, and you smile.

“Are you ready?” you ask.

For the hunt, he wonders? Or to begin the rest of eternity with you?

Either way, the answer is still the same. 

Billy smiles back at you. “Yes.” 

[lonewolflupe]

Yesss I have commissioned artwork to share with you all <3

This gorgeous and most precious artwork of my OC Lupe and her love Fives was done by the magnificent @amalthiaph! She was one of the first artists I encountered when I started my Tumblr-journey, and I've always wanted to commission her one day. And look at this: it's a dream come true ❤️

Some ramblings below the cut, but let me tell you what an absolute joy it was to commission Amalthia! Thank you so much! <3

About the commission

It was such a pleasure commissioning artwork from Amalthia! As you can see, her art is stunning and I absolutely adore her unique style! I commissioned her through Ko-fi and se was super quick to respond. She contacted me through Tumblr to ask about some preferences and to share WIPs with me, always checking if she had the details right before continuing. This was actually the first time I ever commissioned someone, and it was a very great experience. I could totally recommend anyone to get a commission from her. Amalthia, thank you so much for the gorgeous artwork, for the wonderful service and for the overall great experience! <3 I might be coming back during another round of your commissions for some more!

About the art

This is my Jedi OC Lupe (I adopted her name as my online nickname here on Tumblr) from my ongoing longfic A Lupe Of Faith. After a most chaotic first encounter with Fives, they keep meeting and causing mayhem at 79's until one thing leads to another, and they fall in love. They end up developing a very strong, loving bond, with a deep care and mutual understanding for each other in between all the horrors of war they both go through. I asked Amalthia to picture them as 'partners in crime', looking both lovingly and mischievously at each other, as it's such an important part of their relationship (and how they ended up being together in the first place). I've put so much of myself into Lupe, and I fell in love with Fives myself as I wrote my longfic, so their bond is very dear to me.

Amalthia pictured it perfectly, and once again, I want to thank her for that. I will cherish this piece forever, and I couldn't be happier with it. Thank you thank you thank you <333

I just can't stop looking at them they are so precious I love them

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Can I request a fic where Wrecker or Hunter (your choice) falls for a circus performer after he sees a show where she’s an acrobat? (I’m thinking Greatest Showman vibes for this fic)

Performance

Wrecker x Reader

Summary- Wreckers sees your performance as an acrobat and immediately falls in love!

A/N- Thank you for requesting, I finally had an idea spark with his prompt! Thank you SO MUCH for your patience <3 Reader is described as flexible, but no body type is mentioned! :)

Word Count- 1,187

Growing up on Ord Mantell was tough to say the least. It was an over-populated and crowded city. Not to mention, being the daughter of a Ring Master.

Your father ran a sort of Circus. Taming and showing off exotic creatures, all while putting on a show. You knew at an early age you'd follow in his footsteps of becoming a performer. To see the cheers and joy on faces made all your hard work pay off.

And the pay? Well it was enough to get by.

Your day started like any other, warming up for your set moves. That was until a small girl and a very large man in armor stumbled into the Circus tent.

They both seemed sweet, but the show didn't start for another hour.

"Excuse me, how can I help you?" You walked up to them, your shiny leotard and skirt reflecting in the lights.

"Wow..." The big man spoke.

You frowned your brows at him. "Oh! Uh, I'm Wrecker! Your outfit is really pretty..." Your face rose in understanding. He meant a compliment, not an insult.

"Well thank you, Wrecker! May I ask what you two are doing here? The circus doesn't start until the sun goes down." They must be new to the city, most knew exactly when the tricks started.

"We came to see the show! We were just so excited, we couldn't wait until sundown!" The girl beamed you had a good feeling about her.

You smiled at her words, it was becoming more rare for children to be excited for your work. Many chose to stay indoors now, you mostly received tourists nowadays.

"You sure sound excited! What's your name?" You teased, slightly bending down to her.

"I'm Omega, and this is my brother." She turned to gesture to Wrecker. You got a good look at him, he was... really tall and muscular.

You were extremely grateful for the colorful lighting all around. Without it, they'd have been able to see your blush.

Feeling in a particularly good mood, you spoke. "Since you two have been so kind, would you like to stay? To watch the rehearsals and warm ups?"

The girl jumped up, grabbing onto her brothers arm. "Oh, please Wrecker?"

He was distracted, however. His eyes still on you. "Uh yeah sure kid. Whatever you want."

You noticed, bashfully looking down. Only for a moment, as an idea sparked. "Why don't you guys go over to the snack booth and get some Mantell Mix? On the house!"

You pointed to the stand. After they both thanked you, Omega and Wrecker headed that way.

Something turned in your stomach, nerves... You haven't gotten nervous before performing since you were a child. Your whole life you'd been on stage, why was not any different? Was it because Wrecker was still keeping a mesmerized eye on you?

Sure, you had plenty of creeps checking you out. It just came with the job, a tight leotard never helped. Wrecker, however, didn't have a lustful eye. He truly seemed innocent and simply in adoration when he looked at you.

You shook off the feeling, after the show was over they'd leave. Just like everyone else did. That was just the path you chose in life. You couldn't help but wonder if you wanted more. Everyone seemed to come and go, but you stayed. Were you tired of staying in one place?

You had no time to dwell on such thoughts, the show was starting soon. A crowd was starting to form, lines getting longer at the food stands. It was your que to follow your father behind the curtains.

Just before doing so, you looked back. A small tradition your mother started when you were little. A last look at the crowd before you reentered as their entertainment. Typically, they were basking in the refreshments or the patterns covering the walls- but your eyes met Wreckers.

He had a goofy grin on his face, one that matched Omegas. When he saw you looking back at him, he gave an energetic wave. You shyly raised your hand to acknowledge him, a matching grin on your face.

It made your heart flutter, though you intermediately shamed yourself for feeling so childish. Flings were for children. Not professional performers.

The show went on, as it always does. Lights move quickly, crowd hushing, and your father the ring bearer introduces the acts.

Juggling, Knife Throwing, Beast Tamer, Sword Swallowing, Clowns. You name it. Each after the other came out in a silly or scary tune. You, however were called last.

"We conclude our show with the Acrobat and Trapeze artist in one!" He called your name out, a slow melody following. It was a sweet harmony you enjoyed, the colorful lights dimming.

Only a single light filled the tent, pointed at you as you were lowered from a support rail.

A silk stream warped around your waist and upper arms. You bended and twisted- earning many gasps and whispers.

You found yourself wondering only for the large man you just met. Was he encaptured by your movements? Was he worried for you as you dropped down to the floor, swinging on the silks? Did he care enough?

Finishing the show was second nature, jumping from one side of the tent to another, grabbing onto rope and gliding above the crowd, a fake sword fight with a clown. It was work, but you truly had fun each time.

Sooner than later, it was all over. You retreated after the applause, noting that Wrecker cheered the loudest. When the majority of the crowd was gone, you came back out to help the clean up.

"That was Auuhhmazing!" He drew out his words, Wrecker bouncing over to you. Omega was hot on his tail.

You flashed your teeth, "Thank you!" Typically it ended at that, but he had so many nice things to say about you...

"I was so scared for you, that last drop was crazy!" He said, looking genuinely concerned. Omegas added to him, "You looked so cool in the silk ropes!"

"You two are so kind, I'm truly flattered." You began to end the conversation, a blush rising up.

That was until Omega pulled on Wreckers arm, "Now!" She urged.

He was bashful, rubbing the back on his neck. "Uh, you really are beautiful. Not that that's the only think I noticed! Uhm, I just, you are so talented, and nice... I was wondering if you'd..." He stopped to look at your expression.

"I would be honored Wrecker, just name a time and place." You had never known yourself to be so bold, he just seemed to bring that out in you.

"Really?" He exclaimed, surprised. "Yes." You laughed out.

"What about after tomorrow's show?" He was eager.

"I'll be waiting right here in my nicest dress." At your words, his face dropped. He turned to Omega.

"We have to go shopping for some nice clothes!" She seemed to become giddy at this.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Wrecker. I'm looking forward to it." He could only blush and stare as you walked away.

A/N- Thank you so much for reading!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowers

[voxmilia]

Do you have any HCs with inkblade and Ivy

YOU MEAN OISIN AND HIS TWO FAVORITE GIRLS? THREE OF MY FAVORITE KIDDOS? ONLY ALWAYS

I latched on so hard to "mean girl with the Garthy O'Brien accent" so I've adopted Ivy, she's one of my favorites, I literally write her on my rp blog, I have a character/timeline study for her in the works so I have many headcanons. Some of these are, as usual, created in conjunction with my friend Nick @starlingcity !!

I've had to cut this down like 3 times because I have so many thoughts about all three of them so literally ask me for more anytime!

Ivy was born in Leviathan. She doesn't remember it much; she and her bio mother (her mama, bc Fabian parallel) emigrated to Solace when Ivy was around 2 or 3. Her accent is sort of a mix of Leviathan and Fallinel, as her second mother (her mum) is a high elf.

She meets Oisin at Oakshield Middle School. He's sitting by himself, reading a spellbook and Ivy, who even before the rage never really knew how to express herself right the first time, tells him it's "too sad" to watch him all alone and insists she has to join him from now on. She does. They're inseparable from then on.

They develop minor separation anxiety after their first death in the Mountains of Chaos; it's tenfold by their revivication in junior year. Jawbone helps them both and also helps them find accredited private therapists.

Oisin has a panic attack for the first time ever during his first appointment with Jawbone, because Ivy isn't there and he's terrified she'll be dead when he comes out.

He has another one when Lucy's out for a summer trip, reconnecting with her family after a year dead, and he hasn't heard back from her in almost a day. Adaine finds him, knees tucked to his chest, arms and tail wrapped around them, just outside of Jawbone's office. It's their first real conversation beyond his initial apology to her.

He laments that he should be stronger than this, should know better. Adaine still doesn't trust him but she understands so she huffs and assures him that anxiety doesn't mean he isn't strong. She has anxiety and she's been in so many battles., defeated so many foes

"I punched a dragon in the face and I have anxiety!" (It makes him laugh. She hates that she likes the sound of it.)

Ivy, as bad as she is with words, is the first to apologize of all the Rat Grinders. Mazey is kind, too kind. Ivy sort of rambles. She isn't even sure why was she so unkind in the first place; she apologizes, says Mazey deserved better. They're not friends but they've buried the hatchet at least. (Years later, they run into each other at a Fig and the Cig Figs concert and smile at each other but say nothing.)

Oisin and Ivy kissed exactly once, at 14, the summer before their freshman year. They were two confused, curious kids who wondered if the warmth in their chests when they were together was meant to be romance. They hated it immediately and never attempted it again. Ruben is still convinced they're exes, though.

Oisin, Adaine, and Ivy end up in the first Bad Kid/Rat Grinder mixed group chat, beyond their initial mega chat with both parties. Oisin kept sharing memes Ivy sent him to Adaine, who would tell him to send Ivy one from Adaine in turn. He got tired of being the middle man eventually and makes them a group thread.

Ivy texts the chat one night that she feels sorry for Adaine, because Oisin is an awful kisser. Adaine tells Ivy to speak for herself. Oisin is too embarrassed to reply for almost an hour, to Ivy's joy

[marchsfreakshow]

Comforting A Murder [James Patrick March]

Hurt/Comfort // Smut. (I guess?)

Well you did it. You finally murdered someone, but right in the middle of a mess James wants to clean up. You attempt to comfort eachother...

18+ MINORS DNI!

Warnings: dub-con, PnV, quick fuck?, James being James.

Brb inspiring this off of ep.9 and 10. Had no ideas anymore so I figured basing this off an episode or two would help me write this.

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Oh, your pretty red dress. Ruined by the darkness of fresh blood. Arms and legs decorated by splashes of someone's else liquid soul. A beautiful decorated purple gun, turned black, dripping. Eyes widened; scared, confused, joy? Your mind racing with thoughts of what others would think.

Others? Each ghost more insane than the last? They didn't care. Most, happy by your calling. Liz, your best friend, daring you to talk to someone. "Talking to James will do good my dear. I understand he is in love with the countess still, but you know he takes interest in you as well."

"Sure.." A shaky word left your brain as you stood straight, gripping onto the used gun like it was a dying breath. "But... Jesus Liz, he's so... intimidating."

"Only if you don't talk to him." She stated. You took a deep breath and a step back, staring at the now decomposing lady that you laid bare. Flesh, body and soul ripped down the middle after a shot in the head. "A wonderful killing. Just like you." Liz was never too interested in the killing around the Cortez, but the way you killed... invigorating.

" 'suppose." You undressed as quickly as you killed, picking up a purple dress. The same shape, size and glimmer as the one you had murdered in. Your body still dripping in red.

"go like that. Go and find him right now."

"like this? No. Liz no! I can't. I have to wash myself. And my gun."

She shook her head and took a small drag of her cigarette. "No. Go find him. Now."

After a long silence, you took a deep and long breath, debating whether or not you should find the prolific killer. So you agreed. Walking out of the room and leaving the open torso to bleed dry, Liz watched, maybe silently judging you. You could never tell. The still image ran in your head as you walked. The heart slowing down, and the stomach just sat there, begging to be opened so the acid could dissolve everything else.

"...James." You saw him standing there, looking bewildered. He had been slapped, in front of an open hallway. An open hallway? Why on earth...? But you whispered his name as you took a step closer, transferring your gun from one hand to the other. "James.." you cleared your throat, looking down to the ground, feeling insecure. The killer looked at you, and smiled, taking his hand off his face.

"Ah, love. You look...ravishing, and a gun? My." He started, his smirk coming back to him. Nervous and worried, a blush appeared, and your hands were shaky again. The gun was still coloured darkly, leaving little trails of blood behind you. If there was any more blood on you, you would look like Carrie, an icon to you and your deranged but silent mind. "May I ask, your kill you have come back from?"

"a lady. Insulted my dress. Shot her head, then...ripped her torso. Neck to crotch." You admitted, looking everywhere but in his eyes. Another step towards you. He took your hand and looked lovingly at the gun.

"I'm so proud my dear." A teacher, smiling widely at his student, blood smearing itself over both your hands. You stared at his hands. Such precious jewels, covered in a dark thick liquid, a gun being shared between two. A small gulp and another deep breath. "What are you nervous about?" He asked as you looked up to the open hallway, a looming darkness. It scared you, but you never showed it. You wanted to impress James, being scared would annoy him.

Oh just how wrong you were. James could tell you were scared about what could have been lurking in the hallway. What a wonderful thing to use to his advantage. "This hallway is empty my darling. Nothing exists here." He simply stated. Innocently looking back up to him and seeming like you didn't understand anything he was saying. Like you didn't believe him. "Go on. Walk in. You have your dear gun, use it if need to." Absolutely not.

But a cold hand on your back, pushing you in. It left a faint handprint on you, and James noticed, letting out a small chuckle. It rang through the looming hallway, making you shake more. Holding the gun in front of you, worriedly looking around. Then a shot. You shot something. You think. Maybe? But you turned and ran. Ran into James' chest, even if he didn't wrap his arms around you as you secretly hoped he would. "You found something?"

"I think...I think so?" Your voice was hurried, and resting your head on his chest.

"Come dear. Let's take you away from this." He placed a dead hand on the small of your back, still bloody. The blood on you was decently dried now, feeling unable to wash it off. Eyes always straight and front as you both walked. Meeting anyone's eyes would increase your guilt about the murder. Such a beautiful but meaningless kill in James' mind. Killing someone for insulting your pretty red dress? Insanity.

James' room appeared before you, and you were led into it. Cold but comforting. A room you had wanted to go into. Forever. Everything interested you. Mindlessly, you started to wander around. Leaving gentle touches over every surface. The interest you two had with each other, coming to light. Your wonder and innocence, lit up when you walked around. Going in circles, your hand loosening around the firearm you held so dear. A beautiful thing, all based on your personality. James picked it up as you stepped in another circle, staring out of the window.

Ah, the open world. Nothing you missed. Bullied for the way you worked, and how you carried yourself. You left the daylight alone and stayed in the Cortez. Liz and Iris helping you with anything you need from the open world. "Dear. You are lost again." James murmured, standing behind you. A breath? Maybe? By the crook of your neck. "Ah yes, the life outside of this hotel. You should not worry about it, my dear. You are here now. You are here forever, murdering just because?"

Words that left him, and made you shiver. "But, I want the life again."

"I understand darling, but you must understand that this hotel can offer you more. Offer you something you could not find outside." A hand, gripping the front of your neck, thick fingers finding a vein and pressing on it, hard. "The people here are dangerous, wonderful. Full of deprived attraction." A hitch in your breath as the pressure got harder and harder. The stopping of your breath and its effects on James were pressed against your back. Was he really getting hard at this? Really? Okay...

"James..." All you did was lean against him, your neck open to him again, so many possibilities, and so many things he could do to you. A low groan, maybe a snarl leaving him. His free hand exploring your side, gripping at the dress fabric and feeling the dried blood on you. Every touch felt odd like you shouldn't be enjoying it so much. But your love for James, and the way your need for him manifested as killing for him. Innocents who did nothing to you but make a snarky comment, a little joke. Why was he so irresistible to you? A killer who died nearly 100 years ago, who loves murder, fine absthine, and his students.

Wandering hands trailing down your back, pulling down the zipper. The purple fabric fell swiftly off you, pooling around your flats and the blood-covered legs of yours. All this talk and touch of murder, blood, opening someone up, it was nothing but erotica turned real to him. Such a need for someone he did not know too well. Who was he to deny such a gift? Deny the chance to make someone feel something other than rage and upset.

Such moveable skin in front of him, the way he touched and practically groped you, making you feel mindless already. Your head, silently thrown back onto James' shoulder, feeling every touch he gave. The way he gripped onto your hips, such a need and desire in him. You practically threw yourself onto the bed, but sat on your knees politely. Even when a feeling of warmth spread through you, nerves were still there and you never wanted to upset your dear so. Shy, doe eyes watching a ghost undress. A quick coyote, readying himself to catch the doe it craved.

Silence in your voices, but catching breaths, underwear ripped off of you. You were being pulled up from your knees and pushed down onto all fours. He fucked like you were going away that night. Barely any time to catch your breath as he kept going.

Faster.

Harder.

Fucking you like the world was ending. Your moans; loud, unfiltered, they could be heard anywhere in the Cortez. His were reserved but animalistic in nature, never giving you a break. You screamed his name, as he yelled yours. Bruises were appearing on your neck, hips and thighs.

When had the dam been broken? You wondered as you cleaned yourself up, starting to sit up. Looking over to your side, James was half-dressed already. "I will admit my darling, that blood drying itself on you truly is enchanting." He nonchalantly mentioned, walking over to where you sat. A little hum in response, looking to the side where James was not. The ghost pulled your face towards him and left a kiss on your wanting lips. Pushing yourself forward to try and kiss him again, only to be denied.

Only to be denied as he picked up that purple gun you adored.

Only to be denied as he reloaded it.

Only to be denied as he aimed it at your worrying face.

BANG.

Only to be denied one last breath, one that you could've kissed him again with.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tag: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @nahoyasboyfriend @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @tatelangdonsweater @feefymo @fear-is-truth