#*Arm shoots up from under his bed covers and snaps it's fingers*

[mechazushi]

Okay, so, Fun story. My mind took this and ran with it while I was at work and now I have some vague lore bits and some over-developed excerpts of a story that I really shouldn't be focusing on right now because if I do, then its gonna turn into a personal odyssey and I can't be having that right now.

I am well aware that you clearly have your own lore, but I really needed get this written down so my mind can drop it so I can focus on other things, hope you don't mind.

So I'm gonna have a small bit of lore dump, then the excerpts, then the last of the lore so I can have people follow along, have my emotional impact, then explain why my mind went the way that it did.

Got it? Good. (Feel free to tell me to take this down If you hate it. Apologies in advance for the shit-ton of words before you)

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Lore Part 1} So the idea is that dragons come in different flavors. Kafka, of which, is a wish dragon. To a certain extent, Kafka can't just grant wishes willy-nilly. There are some rules. 1)Kafka can't grant personal wishes (i.e. wishes he wants for himself) 2)Only one wish per person. 3) The wishes don't follow Genie / monkey's paw ruling because the magic that grants the wish reads the person's intent behind the wish. (You can wish for something vague like "I want to survive" and the wish will alter circumstances that will help with that.) 4) The dragon can only grant wishes if the dragon trusts you. <- this is where things gets a little quirky. If it was up to Kafka, he would immediately say "I trust you" to everyone and grant their wish, but that's not possible. Nobody knows the exact requirements needed to trigger a wish, but I see it as a mix of exposure and genuine trust. You could know a wish dragon for years, but if you treat them like shit, they won't do anything. If you've only known a dragon for a week, but have already made a / several sacrifices with genuine good natured intent behind them then the chances of you getting a wish granted is higher, but you might still need to be with them a little longer for it to work.

Also, most dragons live from about 100 to 500 years. Kafka's been alive for 15,000. (It'll get explained how that's possible in a min.) And there is a difference between Dragons and Wyverns.

Wyverns are small and fairly non magical/ can't cast magic. Can talk but it comes out like Gollum

Dragons have two sizes (small and Normal, I.e. which is giant) with the sizes being proportional to how powerful the dragon is, can cast magic, and have human level intelligence. Can talk and can have intellectual/philosophical debates with humans.

And only Reno is an elf (so far)

Okay, I think that's about as much as I can reveal for now. Onto the story's excerpts!

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"I think he's being a big baby." Narumi commented as the three of them strolled down the bricked street, flanked on either side by the castle's guards.

"I'm sure Sir has a very good reason not to see him again. Don't you think it would be good not to have more potential reasons as to why Lord Isao would deny our request to pass?" Reno haughtily quipped. His elvish demeanor showed no signs of the same nervousness that seemed to plague the other two members of the party.

"I've only known him for less than a month, and I bet that, whatever their problem is, could just be a simple misunderstanding and Kafka should just eat his words." Narumi grumbled.

"Can we please refrain from name-dropping our ace in the hole. This visit is already politically treacherous enough as is. If there is, or isn't a problem, it's best not to discuss it around the escorts at the very least." Hoshina said as he led the group while in the center of the company they were traveling with. The guards eyes them down suspiciously as Hoshina returned the visual sentiment to the grouping around them.

Hoshina and his platoon of hunters had set themselves on a mission to the Upper Arctic Plains to deal with an emerging problem. For months, the Upper Arctic had been dealing with an invasion of particularly vicious invasions from a foreign nation. This nation had access to ancient wyvern taming techniques and was attempting to lay waste to Lower Arctica. The great city of Ariaka was the only nation standing between the border of the Upper and Lower lands of The Arctic. Many countries knew of the situation and had sent offers of aid, seeing as Ariaka was the last and only stronghold before the rest of the continent, but all offers were sent back. With some being violently refused and sent away as a message for seemingly no reason at all. This had caused the city to restrict access to and through its borders. Any and all hunting parties seeking passage past the city's great wall had to make a personal appearance before the King. Leading to most, if not all parties, being turned away under the wrongly suspected guise of mistrust.

Hoshina had no intention to mess with the battle taking place up further North, but the mission his party was sent on would lead to a small chain of dominos that could possibly alter the outcome of the events further up. But to get there, they had to gain permission to pass through Ariaka. If Hoshina wasn't a virtuous and outstanding member of society, he'd rather take a chance with a band of unscrupulous smugglers. However, due to the size of his party, and (as far as he knew) no one in the group having enough knowledge of how to deal with said smugglers, there really wasn't a choice as to what had to be done. Still, he had hoped to have gained a bit of an edge thanks to the presence of Kafka Hibino, their rare, shape shifting, wish granting dragon friend. Unfortunately, Kafka seemed to have a bit of a history with the King of Ariaka.

They had come up with a plan before this one. One invoking an ancient ritual that would allow Hoshina to bond with Kafka in a contracted fashion. It was supposed to come across as a sign of strength, a power move to show the King of Wyverns they were strong enough to carry out their mission and potentially showcase the group as equals to the King. No one had any idea as to why Lord Isao kept preventing parties from crossing over, but Hoshina had a feeling that as a long as they clearly state that they had no intention of getting close to the conflict going on in Upper Arctic and could prove not to be a potential nuisance, they might have a chance to pass. That plan was soon shoved to the back burner as Kafka quickly protested to the idea. Not to the thought of bonding to a man that had previously tried to kill him, but to entering the King of Wyvern's domain. He didn't go into detail, but had mentioned in passing that they had met before Isao was King and had left a terrible impression on the what-would-have-been prince then. This left the group to resort to a new Plan A- Flattery, intense charisma, and a clear understanding of Non-engagement on what was clearly Kingdom matters.

The party made it to the broad, reinforced metal doors of the castle. The castle itself was built into the far wall that surrounded the city. Sitting on a hill, it looked to be split down the middle with the wall becoming the castle's wings, cascading down its sides. The loud clanks and low hisses of steam coming from impressive machinery echoed out from around the doors, opening them and replacing the work of what would have been a hundred men. Not waiting for them to be fully opened, the guards around them pushed the group forward into the main chamber of the castle. Sent down hallways big enough for Kafka's true form to walk down comfortably, the journey through the castle's interior led them to the throne room at what seemed to be the back of the fortress.

Viewing inside, it became clear why Lord Isao was called The King of Wyverns. The throne room felt impossibly expanse with the clearest paneled windows stretching floor to ceiling as it domed outward to reveal the widest view of the open lands that lay beyond the castle. The walls from the borders of the window to the back wall of the throne room were alive with the wing beats of what could only have been a million wyverns. They were the colors of the rainbow and all about the size of lap dogs, scuttling about as they swished and swam through the air, fighting for seats along the walls. The whole room felt more like an extravagant bird cage than a place to receive visitors. And there in the back of the room, sitting in his golden throne nestled close to the domed window on its own podium, was the Golden King of Ariaka.

Looking... a little less golden than what the namesake brought to mind. Outfit pressed neatly and regal, the colors looked dull however. The blond hair on the king's head and face appears more washed out and gray when compared to the vibrancy of the room. While still broad and imposing, the light streaming in from the windows made the sight before the crew feel like they had walked in on a faded memorial for a great man, rather than a terrifying introduction to a still present iron ruler. As they got closer, they could even see the skin on the cheeks were gaunt and pale. Was the Golden Ruler of Ariaka sick?

"Lord Isao, King of the Wyverns. These leaders of the Tachikawa Hunting party have come forth seeking permission to pass beyond the walls." The guard's voice rang out clear over the buzz of wyverns in the room. It was the highest decorated guard that had been in the front leading the group and as he dropped to his knee and bowed his head while addressing the king, the others, including Hoshina's crew, had taken the same hint.

"How many do I need to send back before it is realized that there will be no trespassers venturing past these walls?" The man on the throne spoke in a deep, slow, and measured tone. No sign of illness dampened his words, but Hoshina had felt uneasy hearing the cadence all the same.

"They claim that their journey takes them directly to the northwest, closer to the territory of Kanazawa. There have been rumors of an outbreak of trolls terrorizing the traveling camps of hunters stationed there." The guard continued to speak for them. They watched as Lord Isao became lost in thought as he searched for a response. Before he spoke however, a shadowy figure slithered its way up and over the back of the throne.

A sickly looking dragon shaped closely to an eel appeared in its smaller, reserved form as it poked its head over the throne's back to tickle its tongue into the king's ear. From what the group could see, it was mostly a dirty tan color, with streaks and spots of a grayer brown patterning its hide. A small stringy beard adorned its chin and two circular, protruding plates flared out from the back of its skull and ringed completely around its head. It had no eyes and its claws had dug noticable grip-holes into the top of the chair, indicating that there was some weight to the beast. Hoshina calculated from the size of the dragon's head that its body was about the size of an extremely large hunting dog, all hiding behind the chair.

After hearing what the dragon itself had to say, the king leaned back and spoke again, seemingly having his mind changed.

"They are hunters, are they not? This group in distress? If they cannot handle the problem themselves, then they are not hunters." Lord Isao spoke, his voice now sounding slower than earlier to Hoshina.

What a cold and cruel response! Especially from a man that led the best pack of hunters not too long ago. Hunters may consider themselves self-sufficient when in groups, but all good hunters know when to take a hint and ask for outside help.

"Guard, may I be granted permission to speak?" Hoshina whispered to the man in front of him. The officer turned to evaluate him for a moment before shifting off to the side so Hoshina could stand and speak for himself.

" Lord Isao, Golden King of Ariaka. We hear of your decrees for non-engagement, a telling sign of how you hold yourself after your years in the hunters." Hoshina began. He could see that after the dragon had stopped whispering, the king's eyes gained an even duller, more lifeless appearance to them. He began to hope that this wasn't a sign of how difficult this conversation was going to become.

"But to ignore a call of aid from a hunter, is to ignore the first rule of what we stand by. You have ardently refused help from other members of the hierarchy and we have no choice but to take that in stride and pride. We beg you, allow us to aid only our brothers and sisters in the west and help bring a swift end to their troubles. We are prepared and equipped well enough to ensure swift ends for all that cause chaos to them and them alone. We can and will provide updates as we venture, you will know our every move from departure from here and from there. If it would please you, we could even negotiate their return to the other side of the wall, preventing them from considering the browning of noses in places where your majesty has clear domain and jurisdiction over." Hoshina had been keeping steady eye contact with the panel of glass over the top of the king's head.

While it was considered rude to look a king in the eyes, and in some places it was a death sentence, Hoshina was hoping it kept up an air of confidence and resilience. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up however. His internal pool of flowery language to draw from was beginning to dry. The king made no move at all. Did not shift in his seat or made any other sign that he had heard his words in the slightest. A wyvern flew out from the shifting mass on the far wall and flew down to the dragon behind the throne. The king made no mention of it as it flittered down and began to converse quietly with the King's... pet? Honestly, no one in the group was sure what that slick and nasty mass of meat was doing, sitting in place of privilege behind the throne. The crew watched on in muffled horror as the dragon finished talking to the wyvern, and as the wyvern bowed its head, the dragon bit into its neck and proceeded to swallow it whole. After it had finished, it began to resume whispering into the king's ear. Hoshina could hear Reno behind him, trying his best not to openly gag at the sight.

"Well prepared to prevent chaos, you say? How well will you admit to?" Lord Isao spoke, breaking the tense silence that was caused from his inaction.

"Less than a hundred men. All trained to completion and taught to carry and maintain their own equipment to beyond acceptable standards." Hoshina replied quickly, hoping to mask any potential cracks in his voice after seeing the grotesque display.

"Any magical creatures under your employ?" The king questioned. Hoshina felt taken aback by how direct the statement was.

"We... are here to hunt them. It... would be counter productive to... employ one to harm others, wouldn't it?" Hoshina immediately began to regret his phrasing, wincing at his most definite blunder.

"And yet... you're scheming to pass one through the borders of my wall." Lord Isao continued to speak in even tones as he raised his hand.

The gesture summoned the opening of the door behind them and with it came the chorus of shouting and the rattling of chains. The wyverns around them burst into a flurry as a burly man was tossed down and slid to a stop in view of the crew.

"Shit." Hoshina cursed under his breath as he saw who was next to them.

Kafka Hibino. The exact same man who swore that it would become a problem should he ever enter the walls of the city, now laid low at the feet of the king. The same man that everyone had noticed was nowhere to be found this morning when the three of them came together to game plan.

"Where the fuck were you this morning?" Narumi hissed.

"Why didn't you run?" Reno called out.

"You think I didn't try? Kinda hard to do when you're drugged." Kafka only responded to Reno as he clumsily shuffled himself to his feet.

His hands were bound together, with a chain connecting them to a collar to his neck. A set of cuffs bound his feet as well, but had enough slack in them to allow him to get back on his feet. It took him a second to reorient, and when he did, he was greeted with a drastically unpleasant sight.

"You!" Hosina had never heard Kafka take that tone of voice before. One so close to how he sounded in his dragon form, a word so small yet dripped with wrath and bile. He had only ever known Kafka to be friendly to everyone, even to those that didn't deserve it.

"Hachi..." The dragon behind the chair hissed out the title with an equal amount of vitriol while climbing down the arm of the king. The king still did not move or react, even as the room exploded into frenzied action.

"Life Waster!"

"Wish Stealer!"

"Tricky Dragon!"

The squeaked cries of the disturbed wyverns around them were hard to miss with them crying out insults one after another. The group all turned to look at Kafka, seeing as all these insults only started flying after he entered the room. He saw as Kafka held his head high, defiant to the slander. Hoshina saw something else, however. Was that sadness in the lines around his eyes? Answers and questions all started to fly around in Hoshina's head, his mind felt like it was swimming in a whirlpool of information.

Another dragon gave Kafka a name. The only dragons that have names that can be spoken aloud are those of the Ranked. Was Kafka a member of the draconic hierarchy? And what was with all these declarations of stealing and wasting? Kafka had never killed a person the entire time they knew each other. Albeit, they hadn't known each other long, but Reno could sing praises about Kafka's nonviolent nature well into the night if you let him, and they had known each other for over four decades. And how could Kafka waste a wish? He might be a shit judge of character, but those that didn't deserve a wish never stuck around long enough to earn one from him in the first place.

"Still having fun toying with the human filth?" The brown eel dragon made sounds as if it was spitting out each letter as it spoke. It had continued to crawl until it was braced across each armrest, almost blocking the lap of the king in what was a defensive manner.

"Still devouring everything around you to fill the void in your putrid soul, Kyu?" Kafka spat back.

"Thanks for spoiling my fun. Now I'll have to take you up on that suggestion. Not that I'm complaining... I hear the flesh of the beloved is the sweetest when consumed in front of those closest to them."

This had all gotten so far out of hand. Kafka is supposedly a Ranked dragon with a shady past and is now antagonizing a fellow Ranked. The Ranked one in league with the King appears to really hate humans and might be evil. And to top it off, the King could very well be a flesh puppet for the really evil dragon. Hoshina had no plans, fancy words being useless now, and was now stuck in a room with most likely evil guards, two pissy Great Dragons, and probably a million wyverns in league with the sketchy one. Great, just great.

"Anyone else getting the distinct feeling we should leave?" Narumi spoke up as he shifted to a more defensive pose.

"Couldn't agree more." Reno said as he mirrored Narumi's stance.

"Who says I want you to leave? Not while Dear Hachi is my guest." The dragon named Kyu let his words slither out his mouth with clear ill intent.

"Hey. Hoshina?" Kafka called out with a dash of nervousness.

"Yeah, buddy?" Hoshina responded, lips snapping around the word.

"You remember Plan B, right?" Kafka turned to look him in the eye, his were filled with somber determination. Hoshina took a brief look at his surroundings, trying to calculate any other outcome. He turned to nod back at Kafka, not sure in what he was planning, but if it offered a chance at survival...

"Seize them." Kyu commanded.

"Cover me!" Hoshina commanded as well, voice reaching above the cacophony of wings in the room.

The two behind him immediately made moves to distract and block the guards around them while Hoshina took care of the two next to him. He could hear Kafka grunting with effort as he took care of the two that brought him in, the sound of a dragon's tail slamming against metal and flesh now unmistakable. He took his opening and dashed toward Kafka, seeing him break his feet's binding in the altercation. As he lunged forward, his arm outstretched, he saw Kafka's mouth morph into a more fanged appearance. Kafka grabbed his arm as best he could and shoved it into his mouth, biting down hard enough to draw a serious amount of blood. As Hoshina fell forward and screamed in pain, Kafka caught him in his arms, letting him cradle his injured forearm.

"Stop!" Kyu called out. The guards stopped suddenly in their pursuit and assault all at once while the dragon contemplated the scene before him.

"And what good do you think having a bond will do?" Kyu chuckled as he look on at the touching display before him.

"Bonds don't just symbolize a show of trust and camaraderie. It also speeds up the process for one to earn a wish." Kafka was kneeling as he leaned back, still cradling Hoshina. He saw as the blood caught in his mouth seemed to move on its own, making trails down his chin and jaw to settle under the metal collar.

Hoshina looked up at him and shook his head in bewilderment. Kafka could only wink down at him briefly before he returned back a mutinous look to their captor. Hoshina could only feel his heart sink at the thought that Kafka was the one trying to save them from the situation. He started to pay close attention to what was being said so he could find a way to salvage the situation.

"And you think you have one to spare now, don't you?" Kyu hummed out in amusement

"If you want the truth, he has access to a hundred." Reno chimed in, shifting his gaze from the dragon on the throne to the guards still standing at attention.

"Don't try to fool me, speck. Making a wish in your favor now will only work if the caller is in earshot." Kyu responded with his words having a clicking tap under the cadence.

"Then ain't it just the sweetest that I've got three of the closest companions I've had in years in the same room." Kafka stated.

"Are you claiming to have three wishes?" Kyu asked as he tilted his head at them.

"You let us go and you won't have to find out." Kafka managed to keep his tone serious, but with being up close, Hoshina could see bullets of sweat start to form on his temple.

'This is one hell of a bluff, Kafka.' Hoshina thought to himself, finding himself at an inconvenient loss of words.

Kyu chuckled lowly as he slid his body out of the defensive position and aimed himself more bodily at the panicking crew. A sense of deadly curiosity emanated from the tube of wrinkly skin with dark power.

"Oh? And why not use it now." it hissed, words coated in sense of superiority as it detected a kink in the plan.

"Fuck." Kafka imperceptibly hisses under his breath. He started taking too long to come up with a response to keep the bluff up.

"Yeah, Kafka! I can totally wish for us to not be here right now!" Narumi shouted in a clearly sarcastic tone.

Funny thing about the magic behind wishes. If you want it hard enough, it just might give you exactly what you ask for. A greyish-green colored mist began to swirl around the four of them, encasing them in a charged, protective cloud. They could hear the shouts of the dragon demanding the guards to grab them and the sound of chaos that came with, but it faded quickly into obscurity as it blended with the quiet rush of wind and the swish of tall wild grass. The four of them snapped their heads around, taking in the new environment they found themselves in. Off in the middle distance was a patch of multi-colored huts dotted with the living bodies of soldiers and the wispy smoke of several campfires. They had found themselves transported to the edges of the hunter's encampment they were traveling with.

"That worked?" Reno called out in befuddlement.

"Kafka?" It was the only word Hoshina could find himself to say.

"Narumi?" Kafka called out, care and worry etched the borders of his voice.

They all turned to look at the state of their fellow hunter, watching him as he began to hyperventilate and his eyes widened in shock and anger.

"I... had a wish?" Narumi screamed, "I had a bloody, fucking wish?"

He let out a primal scream as he fell to his knees. Not stopping for breath, he started to punch then claw at the ground. No one knew why he did this, maybe attempting to dig his ill-stolen and unrecognized reward back into his clutches.

"Is he... gonna be okay?" Kafka asked as he propped Hoshina up to his feet.

"He'll be fine. We'll wait till he passes out from exhaustion and drag him back to bed. I'm more concerned as to what you started." Hoshina said as he cradled his arm and stared daggers at Kafka. Kafka did everything he could to not answer back as he focused on breaking apart his restraints with his hands. He let the sound of creaking metal echo in the air as Kafka finished snapping the last band around his neck. He could see now that the trails of blood had settled into a band of its own. Intricate runes wrapped around his neck like a ribbon and had faded to the color of, well, dried blood.

"Not going to say a word?" Hoshina continued to interrogate, sounding miffed at his choice to remain silent.

"Oh, he better be saying something!", Reno exclaimed as he whipped around to their one sided confrontation, "When were you going to tell me you're one of the Ranked?"

"I'm... not. Not anymore." Kafka said. Solemn, but sturdy. He turned and walked toward the encampment as the two others followed him.

"Not being one of the Ranked isn't something you just stop being! It is a title bestowed onto a dragon when it is discovered to be a reincarnation of the previous Ranked! And last I checked, you look alive to me!" Reno continued to yell.

"I'll give you that for now, but that thing definitely isn't ." Kafka responded.

"Don't try to move this conversation off of yourself." Hoshina chimed in.

"Guys, we now have bigger problems than my past. That thing in the throne room is going to come after us, probably right now and we need to move." Kafka said firmly as he began to search for something.

"If it's that important, can you tell us what it is first so we can make that decision as a group." Hoshina commanded as he sped up to stand in front of Kafka. This seemed to shake him out of his panicked mindset as Hoshina saw him jump at the sudden intervention. Kafka slowed down, closed his eyes, and breathed before he told them a rundown of what went down in the throne room.

"That dragon was Kyu. Once the Ninth Dragon, Keeper of the Swarm. Now he's what we call in the Ranked a MoriWyvrm."

"I've never heard that before." Hoshina said. He was a hunter that prided himself on knowledge, but had to admit there were gaps. Still, even he thought this was something he would have heard about before.

"Does it have anything to do with the cannibalizing of his fellow dragonkind?" Reno asked.

"Yes it does and there's a reason you don't." Kafka said as he answered each in turn, "We try our best not to let outsiders know about this because it's really a Ranked specific problem. Unless a dragon is in that much danger and needs to trust a mortal with this, we try to deal with it ourselves. A MoriWyvrm is a dragon that ate another dragon. Whether on accident or on purpose, it fundamentally changes a dragon's internal magic and corrupts it beyond recognition. They become mad with wanting more power and continue to eat other dragons for it. Kyu did it on purpose 6,000 years ago, growing tired of his place in the hierarchy. He's been beaten down, but never defeated completely and has always slinked away in the end to various locations to disappear, only to reappear to gain more power again." Kafka ended the conversation to move around Hoshina and continued his search.

"We know each other and hate each other with a passion. As much as I want to go back in there and wallop him, I can't do that with everyone's lives outside now being on the line. We need to get everyone here gone and to a safer location. But I will tell you this now, Kyu will need to be dealt with soon. Whatever he's doing on that throne is probably related to why the king won't let anyone pass the borders. And in case it wasn't clear by now, the king isn't in his right mind."

"A MoriWyvrn can control a human?" Reno asked.

"No, Kyu can. He's definitely powerful enough for that now. What I do know about his powers is that he can't control more than one type of conscious thought. What I mean is he can't control both human and wyvrn basically. So that legion of wyvrns back there, he's manipulated them. Brainwashed them into believing that dying as his meal is some sort of greater purpose or a form of salvation. We can't fight that right now, so if you'll excuse me..." Kafka finished his search when he found a large brass bell on a wooden handle. It was used to let the hunting party be called to action or to notify them of an emergency. Hoshina caught Kafka's arm mid-raise and leveled him with a stern look.

"We can't just up and go somewhere, we need a plan."

"We don't have time for a plan." Kafka countered.

"Then where do you suggest we go?" Hoshina returned.

"Probably the woods to the west. We needed to go in that direction anyway, right? The trees will add sky cover and help us take down potential wyvrn spies." Reno interjected as he looked from face to face. The two stared back at him in shock and confusion.

"I mean... you said it's a swarm keeper, right? That... sounds like something it could do." Reno shifted slightly as he looked on nervously. The two looked back at each other and shrugged in unison, appearing in agreement to the plan. Hoshina let go of Kafka's arm and watched as he rang the bell loudly and clearly.

"Don't think that just because we're running, that it means that we're not returning to your side of the conversation." Hoshina warned. Kafka looked him up and down, swallowing a lump in his throat at the thought of revealing everything held close to the chest up until this point. He accepted his fate as he continued to ring the bell in a familiar pattern, causing all the hunters to jump into action and start demolishing their tents.

Later in the day, the group made it in the woods to the west. Everyone managed to escape the clutches of the Ariaka guardsmen and had set up their encampment in the dark, opting to avoid lighting campfires as to not make its location to obvious to any potential incoming spies sent their way. A brief meeting was called to order after the tents had been set and Hoshina gave a short rundown as to what had happened in the castle of Ariaka. He promised to return the next day with more information and an idea of a move they would make next. He had also caught Kafka trying to slink off into the dark to the edges of the camp with the guise of helping Reno stalk the perimeter for threats. Hoshina made it clear there was information he wanted to collect before any of them became too tired to talk before he marched Kafka to his rather large tent at the back of the camp.

Large enough for a cot, a calf-high writing table, and a shockingly long and tall wooden chest, Hoshina shoved Kafka inside forcefully before moving around him to sit sidelong at the writing table. He gestured at Kafka to make himself comfortable as he lit an bright lantern and prepped a book for note-keeping.

"For starters, how 'bout you begin with what you know about MoriWyvrns and your history with this Kyu." Hoshina stated as he sat facing Kafka. He took to half-sitting on the tall chest and took a deep breath before he started, seeming relieved at the chance to start with what felt like an easier topic of discussion.

"Well, I already gave you the most pertinent information earlier. Need me to repeat it?" Kafka asked.

"No, I remember it well. I was hoping for some more information on its weaknesses, to be honest." Hoshina said as he scribbled down what he remembered from their previous conversation.

"Well, that's kinda difficult to describe." Kafka started, scratching his neck, "Since it's a MoriWyvrn now, it's pretty weak to most normal attacks. It doesn't help that Keepers of the Swarm don't tend to develop normal dragon skin in the first place. Thin skin forces a deeper bond between a Keeper and their flock, leaning on them for protection."

"So without their flock, one might consider them defenseless?" Hoshina interrupted, directing Kafka to possible avenues of neutralization.

"Well... yes. The problem now is that Kyu being a MoriWyvrn covers that weak point pretty well." Kafka crossed his arms as he became lost in thought, "Not only does consuming wyvrns make a MoriWyvrn stronger in power, they also absorb the life span of their meals and it adds to their own. Should a MoriWyvern suffer injury, the soul from its meal rises up to fix the damage. They need to eat the wyvrns to continue to live, yes, but all those souls don't really go anywhere. They just get stored in the corrupted, bottomless pit that is their soul's new state and just... swirl around in there. Keeping them alive by any means necessary." Kafka looked disheartendly at Hoshina as he saw him rub his forehead in frustration.

"So even if we managed to knock it out and tie it down, we would just be standing there for days on end, stabbing something that would just heal the damage we deal it?" Hoshina questioned, wanting to confirm.

"With as big as it looked back there, it would be more than a century before you made a serious dent in its reserve of souls." Kafka replied solemnly.

"So there's no efficient way to hurt or incapacitate this thing." Hoshina said back. All he heard was a questioning whine out of Kafka.

"If you know something, out with it." Hoshina shot at him.

"I mean... it is a theory?" Kafka shrugged at him. Hoshina gestured pointedly at him to continue. Kafka looked away for a moment before letting his idea slip.

"You have another dragon... eat the MoriWyvrn." he finally said aloud.

"But I thought eating a dragon is what causes a MoriWyvrn to happen in the first place?" Hoshina shook his head quizzically as he stared at the tent wall.

"Technically, there should be a brief window of time as the dragon is being digested where the first dragon is dead, but the two souls haven't corrupted each other yet. If you can kill the dragon that ate the first one, you should have a chance to kill both before the powers that come with a corrupted soul take effect." Kafka explained. Hoshina gave a harsh puff of a scoff as he wrote an abridged retelling in his notes.

"Wonderful. Now we just need to find a dragon willing to trust another human, willingly fight and eat a MoriWyvrn, and lay down its life for the greater good." Hoshina could feel the energy change in the room as he said this out loud. He felt sympathetic daggers being drilled into the side of his head. He turned to see Kafka staring him down with a knowingly pointed expression. It took him far too long to read the signal he was being presented with.

"I'm not even going to entertain that idea."Hoshina refuted.

"Hoshina-"

"No." he commanded simply, "If I have to kill you, Reno will want to kill me too, and then I have to kill him as well. It will be a giant, inconvenient, mess. So, no." Hoshina turned to his desk again and flipped to a fresh page in his notebook.

"Speaking of you, mind telling me if there's any more benefits to being bonded to a wish dragon?" Hoshina turned back and glared directly at Kafka, making it clear he had said the final word on his future living arrangement. Kafka just sighed and let the matter rest for now.

"Outside of what was said in the throne room? We can read each other's minds." Kafka dropped casually.

"Aaand... when does that start?" Hoshina asked, unsure and confused as to why that was a thing, but ultimately took it in stride.

"Happened when I bit you." Kafka projected. His lips only twitched into a playful smirk as he watched Hoshina flinch at his own shadow.

"Haha, very funny." Hoshina responded sarcastically, "How do you make it work?"

"Simply wish for it." Kafka answered with a nonchalant wave of his hand. Hoshina scowled disapprovingly before preparing his mind to try. Kafka wan't one to speak in riddles, so something he said made him think he should take the advice at face value. Hoshina readied his face into a more cautious expression as he gave it a go.

"Is... is it working?" Hoshina sent.

"Loud and clear." Kafka returned the message with a thumbs up."

"Alright, good to know." Hoshina continued to scribble down words as he questioned Kafka again, "Anything else I should know about?"

"Well, this doesn't necessarily come with the pact per say, buuut-" Kafka started as he got up and walked over to where Hoshina sat. He held out his hand as he asked for Hoshina's.

"No, the injured one." Kafka started as Hoshina handed over his unbitten one. He took the bandage off of it before he placed the palm of the hand onto his forehead. Kafka closed his eyes as fluffy green clouds of energy and sparks of light began to swirl around Hoshina's wrist and traveled down his arm, almost looking like it was sweeping away the lesion. He felt no pain, only a ticklish wisp of a breeze as he marveled at the injury fading away, as not even a scar was left behind.

"Wow." Hoshina said breathily, twisting his arm left and right in disbelief.

"Don't expect me to be powerful enough to bring you back from the dead, but it should make things a little easier for you." Kafka smiled warmly before making his way back to the spot he was in earlier on the chest.

"Is that everything?" Hoshina questioned, sounding a little shocked at the discovery. He hadn't expected to get this much of a bonus from something Kafka had made out as something frivolous and superficial.

"Yep." Kafka almost looked a little proud as he looked on at Hoshina, his Captain's reserved sense of wonderment not lost on him.

"Then in that case, that just brings us to the last order of business." Hoshina idly flipped to a fresh page, denoting a change in topic warranting a separate entry.

"Mind telling me a little bit about who exactly I'm bonded to?" Hoshina had managed to spring his clever little trap as perfectly as possible. Kafka really had no choice but to come clean about his past now, whether he wanted to keep it buried or not. He could see Kafka's eyes widen in fear, even in the dim light from across the tent. He looked away, hiding the shame and sadness that began to creep into the laugh lines in his face. Hoshina waited patiently while Kafka spent forever debating on if he should run... or accept that this was needed of him now. He had to tell someone who he was, now with the potential of a fight with a fellow Ranked.

"I... I will always have my preferred title be Kafka Hibino. That will never change, no matter what I tell you tonight. But yes, I am one among the Ranked and I have a name." Kafka stated, clear and unhurried. Not savoring or taking his time with his reveal. Just... letting this moment hang in the air. Hoshina got the impression that this wasn't something Kafka talked about lightly, if he's ever talked about this at all. Since even Reno had no idea this man was one of the Ranked. Kafka turned back and stared defiantly into the tent's wall on the other side as he braced himself to speak.

"Among the Ranked, I am Hachi. Hachi of The Eighth Line, Servant of Wishes, Supporter of the Mortal Indomitable Will, Last Known..." Hoshina could see a sparkling of a tear forming in his eye, his throat bobbed as he fought himself to continue, "Last Known Protector of the Halls of Tachikawa." he sniffed harshly, almost being swept away by the force of an unseen memory.

"Do... do dragons really use such long and flamboyant titles?" Hoshina asked. Not much was known about the Ranked. Only bits and snippets that that Ranked allowed others to know about. It was Kafka's turn to scoff as he shook his head, almost seemed to be in embarrassment.

"Only in large gatherings. It's supposed to let others get an idea about what to expect coming out of other mouths and why they say what they do. Personally, I think it just gives others an excuse to disregard things of note from those they don't like." Kafka practically sneered as he spoke. It was clear he's been to one before and didn't enjoy the experience.

"It should also be of note..." Kafka began, looking like he was about to be sick as he tried to talk again, "That I am... over... fifteen thousand years old."

Hoshina stopped writing in his notebook as he processed what Kafka had said. As far as Hoshina was aware, for a dragon to live that long was completely impossible. No dragon in recorded history had ever made it past six hundred, let alone a thousand. Having heard that Kyu lived past six thousand was odd, sure, but that was clearly chalked up to being a MoriWyvrn. Last he checked, there wasn't anything different or special about Kafka that separated him from other dragons. Outside of being one of the Ranked, that is. Which only left Hoshina with one last question.

How?

"T-that is... you're... huh?" Hoshina couldn't begin to fathom just how old that made Kafka. And if he was only the Eighth, how long had the dragons been around? It didn't escape Hoshina just how quiet it had gotten after Kafka had spoken. It was obvious that this wasn't something he took comfort in revealing about himself.

"Kafka... How?" Hoshina reorganized the flurry of thoughts in his head just enough to let out a clear question, desperate for an answer. Kafka had become readably depressed as he sat there on the chest. Hoshina began to wonder if he even heard him ask, noticing how still the human shaped dragon had become in that moment. He opened his mouth again, only to get interrupted as Kafka finally spoke up.

"Do you know... how 'I wish you well' got started?" He said, not bothering to look away from the patch on the ground he picked out to stare unblinking onto. Hoshina just silently shook his head in response.

"I do." Kafka said, tapping his temple as he did.

"A dragon never forgets. It gets even worse when you find out you're one of the Ranked, because now you have the memories of all of your predecessors floating around up there." a heavy pause hung in the air after he had finished. Hoshina made no move to fill it.

"It started when a Wish dragon, the third actually, made friends with the first human that could speak the first words of language. The dragon was dying at the same rate as its friend, both curled up together in a cold cave, now gone. The sentiment was spoken in a long dead language now, but the intent was clear as day when it was declared. 'I wish you well onto another lifetime.' is what the greeting started out as. Even back then, humanity believed in reincarnation, because of the influence of the Ranked. Little did that human know, it had spoken its only wish with its last breath, and let the dragon live another five hundred years." Kafka was unmoved, unshaken, as he regaled apathetically. Hoshina wondered if he was even breathing.

" 'I wish you well onto another lifetime' got shortened down to "I wish you well' and in some countries, it started turning into 'Wish Well'." Kafka's hands came unglued from his sides and went up to his face, hiding the emotions welling up in his expressive eyes.

"That greeting has become my curse. A curse that comes with gifts." The words were muted, but Hoshina heard them just fine.

He began to piece together how Kafka lived for as long as he had. Kafka was a man you couldn't help but like. Friendly, mostly helpful, and had an uncanny ability to brighten up a group's attitude. It wasn't too far of a stretch to believe that some people that he's met across his fifteen thousand years would genuinely wish him a good life. Even if he told them he was a wish dragon or not, it didn't matter if neither one could tell if one had the capability to blow a wish. As long as pure intent was behind the words, anything was a wish. Including a goodbye. A hard sniff echoed behind Kafka's clasped hands before he drew them off his face. Tenting them in front of his nose and lips, he began to talk again.

"I have no need to eat or drink. Anytime I sleep, it's deep and dreamless, no matter if I sleep for a minute or centuries. I've been wished good health for so many times that I can apply the effect to others now." Watery eyes peered over the shaking fingers as he looked deep into Hoshina's. Hoshina could feel the muscles in his face slacken as he realized what he meant earlier about the healing not being a part of the pact.

"Even this form was a gift." Kafka added. One of his hands returned to his face, masking his eyes again as the other fell limply to his side.

Hoshina had seen tired men before. Tired from exertion, tired from inaction, tired from monotony. It was his first time seeing a man be tired from existing. Hoshina slowly got up from his spot on the floor, giving his legs a grace period to become accustomed to having blood flow in them again. Kafka made no move to acknowledge his shift in position as he walked over to the chest. Kafka looked up indifferently as he stood next to him. Hoshina tilted his head, indicating Kafka to stand up as well. He opened the lid and rooted around inside for a moment, before pulling out a dried calabash wrapped with purple cord and a cork in the top. He set the lid back down and seated himself fully on the top of it and waved his hand, silently telling Kafka to join him.

"What, no glasses?" Kafka said, playfully mocking as he sat down as well. Hoshina's heart was lightened as he saw that he managed to illicit a small smile at least.

"You're fifteen thousand years old. You're allowed to be tactless in private." Hoshina responded as he popped the cork off the naturally made bottle. Kafka contemplated the bottle as it was handed to him, before throwing it back and taking three deep guzzles from it. It brought some color to his cheeks and at least appeared to settle his nerves for the time being. Hoshina took a little sip for his own and was about to take more before he heard Kafka open his mouth again.

"Can I... tell you a tale?" Kafka asked. He still didn't look at Hoshina as he spoke.

"It's one you've no doubt heard before, being where you're from. A tale told to children with big dreams, intending to act as fuel for them. But one thing I've always noticed throughout the years is how wrong and twisted they've gotten the ending." He laced his fingers together in front of him as he waited for Hoshina to respond. He felt the warmth of his commander's hand resting on his forearm gently and took that as his answer.

"I'm sure you didn't miss the part in my title that said I was the last known defender of the Halls of Tachikawa. That name is ancient history to everyone else, but I can't help but feel like it was yesterday. Gods, I even remember a time before it was even considered a fiefdom." Kafka's words were laid heavily with the weight of memories, making him sound like an old, world-worn traveler. Which, in a sense, he kind of was.

It did actually slip past Hoshina's attention that he had said that earlier, being more distracted by the revelation of dragons having long titles. It did now put it into perspective of just how old Kafka really was. Hoshina fought his reeling mind as he tried to be polite and focus on his tale.

"I was a family friend on the mother's side of the royal family, being with them previously due to wanting to repay a life debt for her family. She married a wonderful man and had a beautiful and lively child. I spent long days basking in the sun on the castle walls when they were built. It got to the point where they had to come up with new wooden walkways around me so the guards paths wouldn't be interrupted." Kafka let out a little chuckle as he felt the memory soften his weary heart. It was difficult for Hoshina to picture Kafka being stuck in his full form, but he had no doubt that sunbathing would be a lovingly kept past time for him.

"I got to watch that child grow up from an excitable handful, to a strapping and capable warrior. It worried her parents to death, her wanting to join the ranks with the soldiers, but she wouldn't hear of it. She trained dutifully with the rest day after day. Her parents put me in charge of her, asking me to make sure she didn't overdue herself or spread herself too thin. I grew up with her as well. From a Godfather like figure, to practically her brother-in-arms. One just couldn't help but be swept up in her light." Kafka began to look very wistful as he continued to speak. Hoshina went back to sipping from his wine jug again, wondering if this story should be familiar to him.

"Nothing prepared our city for that war that came onto us out of nowhere." Kafka's voice dropped with his expression as he continued.

"A slow procession of wrath and blood approached the doorstep. The King and Queen made every attempt to slow or persuade the East's Might from entering the grounds. I remember them considering sacrificing their morals if it meant their people would be spared. Mina convinced them to let her lead one last defiant volly." Any light that was in Kafka's eyes disappeared when he dropped the revelation.

'Oh. Oh Gods.' Was Hoshina's only thought as he heard the woman's name. 'So that means he's... He's the green dragon from the stories?'

"She had the might of over six thousand strong with her. And it was almost meant for nothing. Everyone likes to tell the tale that she gave the winning command with her final breath, directing her second in command to victory from her grave. That's not what happened." Hoshina could see Kafka start to withdraw into himself. He wondered if his travel mate had the strength to finish the story. He wouldn't blame Kafka if he couldn't. Some war stories could be just too difficult to tell. Hoshina saw as his frame shook, Kafka now looking determined to finish, even if it would tear him apart at the seams.

"We were both mortally wounded. They had come prepared to fight a dragon, it seemed. I had spent the whole of the fight by her side, fearing for her life should I leave it for any reason. It only took a second. I looked away for a second." Tears began to fall now, down in thick rivulets. Kafka made no move to wipe them off his face as they dripped and stained his shirt's hem and pant legs.

"We always had this fight. She always told me that I could spend a million years with humans, I would never truly figure them out. I liked to argue otherwise, mainly because I found her to be cute when she was mad." he laughed breathily and smiled spitefully. Hoshina was pretty sure it was to himself.

"The cannon balls, nor the arrows that poisoned my skin kept me from rushing to her side. I wrapped myself around her, protected her from the world, if only for a moment. I felt more lances and arrows pierce me as I held her. This whole time, she hadn't blown a wish. She knew what I was and was very careful with how she said her words. I begged her, pleaded with her to use it, to save herself, to turn the tide of this war. Anything! Anything that could save her!" Kafka collapsed fully into tears now, the hands on his face making no dent in muffling his wails.

"She didn't even have the strength to speak her wish aloud! She made sure she had that last laugh when I heard her voice in my head wish for me to be well... as a human!" Hoshina's heart sank in time with Kafka falling onto his knees. He watched as the dragon-man rocked himself while in the throws of tears, mourning the long past death of a loved one. Hoshina felt immobilized by the display, not sure how he could comfort someone so distraught and attached to someone long dead.

"Hoshina, Soshiro, please. I need you to promise me something." Kafka seemed to regain enough of his senses to claw his way over to where Hoshina stayed sitting and grabbed the seams of his pants in desperation. For the first time tonight, Kafka not only looked deep into his eyes, but looked so deep into his soul, he felt like it was flayed open and exposed from the intensity of his gaze.

"For the love of everything you find holy and pure and good, be selfish with your wish. Waste it on yourself, waste it on others, I don't care. But for the love of all the Gods, don't waste it on me!" Kafka cried, burying his face into Hoshina's lap.

"I can't take it. Not again. Not ever again." His body rattled from the force of his sobs. He was sure he could be heard from across the encampment, but he didn't care. He had to hear Hoshina promise not to wish for anything for him.

Hoshina came to find himself not to be an emotional man. Didn't hug, always happy nonetheless, but not expressing much else. He made it a point not to let himself get too attached to the others in his hunting party. Emotions were messy things in his line of work, and by proxy, just didn't find himself to be physically expressive. That was the case... until Kafka.

As he leaned forward to sandwich the distressed man in comforting warmth and soothed his shaking with a gentle rubbing from his free hand, he made one final note about how Kafka seemed to me more than a wish dragon...

He was a miracle worker. Whether he liked it or not.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"He doesn't have a wish." Kafka stated nervously as he sat in his usual spot on Hoshina's wooden chest.

"Give me a minute to walk inside, thank you. Now what's this about?" Hoshina said as he walked inside his tent.

A week had passed since Hoshina had managed to lead everyone over the walls to aid their Hunting Brothers and Sisters stuck in the North West. They had swiftly fixed the groups dire situation and had waited for both sides to recover from the ordeal before asking them for aid in return. Once the new group had been informed about the state of affairs in the Castle of Ariaka, their leader, who apparently was Hoshina's older brother, had readily agreed. It was agreed that they needed to intervene in this secret national emergency as soon as possible, but that they weren't going in without a plan. One had just been settled upon minutes ago.

Most of both of the Hoshina's teams would be drawing out and away the castle's forces and wyvrns army with Kafka being the one who would have to fight Kyu on his own. The plan was simple, Kafka would endeavor to mortally wound and (hopefully) eat as much of the MoriWyvrn in its entirety. Reno would be close by to help however he can, and when the time was right, blow his wish and ask for Kafka to be well. The idea was that since the MoriWyvrn was dead and digested, Reno could wish for Kafka to be fine and thus let him survive the ordeal and not have to be killed or become transformed in the end.

However, there already seemed to be a wrench in the plan.

"You better not be referring to Reno, now are you?" Hoshina asked once he pieced together what Kafka could be talking about.

"Unfortunately, yes." He answered.

"And why haven't you told him of this before now?" Hoshina felt a migraine coming on and tried to prevent it by pinching the bridge of his nose. For a jolly and forward thinking man, he was starting to think Kafka wasn't as open with others as he should have been. He understood why Kafka was like this, sure, but you would think he would get the memo at this point.

"Because... that wish might have... indirectly killed his whole family." Kafka's foot was tapping into a blur now and continued to stare determindily into the tent's far wall.

Gods, this man can't leave anything simple, could he?"

"Why would he wish for his family dead?" Hoshina found himself asking exasperatedly.

"Ha- He didn't wish his family dead, he-" Kafka sighed again as he collected himself. Hoshina felt the beginnings of another story coming on.

"I had followed rumors of a town in the south needing aid after a natural disaster. There is where I met Reno and his family. We didn't get off on the right foot, so to speak, when we first met. Eventually, I ended up saving his life quite a few times in short succession to which afterwards, he felt the need to repay with a life debt, as Elves are prone to do." Kafka seemed to become calmer as he continued to tell the story. Hoshina wondered if it was because he had already confessed to his darker secrets to him beforehand.

"He began to stick to my side like glue for a while, waiting for a chance to save me back so he could go about his life like usual. I knew he didn't like me, but I changed his mind somehow because soon neither one of us could see us walking down a path without the other by our side." For as lighthearted as the sentiment was, Kafka's face didn't seem to reflect it. His eyes were downcast and the tips of his lips seemed to sour as he continued.

"Less than a month later, Reno's father had begun to make plans to leave and head eastward. There was a choice I wanted to make; I wanted to leave with his family, but their plans took them to a town that I had already spent too much time in too recently."

"Been there for so long, people would have begun to notice you hadn't aged?" Hoshina chimed in, indicating he was still following along. Kafka nodded briefly before continuing.

"It was just supposed to be a drink and a talk. One long goodbye where I hoped he wouldn't wish me for anything. I never could have thought it could go so wrong." His words were muffled as he rubbed his hands up and down his face.

"He said "If circumstances were different, I would wish to stay by your side.". We had known each other for less than a month so I never thought it would mean anything. I blew off the feeling I get when I feel a wish being blown as the wind chilling my skin. All that wish did was give him the confidence to speak his mind to his father. It apparently pissed his father off so much that he left him in the town and marched the family out a week early. They had gotten caught in a fatal rock slide in the mountains. Reno couldn't be notified of their death until six months later. That was two years ago now." Kafka had finished his somber reminiscing looking as tired as he usually did when he talked about his past. It never ceased to amaze Hoshina how much it seemed to take it out of the man when he did.

"I thought it was nearly impossible to earn a wish in under a month?" Hoshina asked as he mirrored Kafka's earlier gesture of rubbing his face as he faced the far tent wall.

"That's the one consistent thing I've noticed when it comes to the magic of wishes. It never hurts to try." Kafka responded cryptically.

"You know what this means, right? I have no choice but to kill you now." Hoshina turned to look back at Kafka, only to see the man smiling.

"You don't have to kill me. Narumi can do it just as well as you. Hells, I think even that colorful, foreign trio of weirdos that you have could do it." Kafka said, almost looking like he was reveling in the idea of finally dying.

"Oooh, no! I had marked you as my quarry for over a year before I met you. If you think that I'm just going to hand over the honor of taking your head to anyone else, you are sorely mistaken." Hoshina said as he stalked over to Kafka to playfully spit the remark into his face. He couldn't stop himself as he felt the corners of his lips turn upwards as he ruefully thought about Kafka's blood spilling onto another man's blade.

"Well, if that doesn't happen, then you can take comfort in knowing that I died with the Huntsman Honor of going out in a useful blaze of glory." Kafka teasingly returned with a similar grin.

"You consider yourself a hunter?" Hoshina jibbed back.

"I call you my commander, don't I?", Kafka said as a hand came up to the faded runes on his neck, a thumb playing with the edges of the patch that crossed over his Adam's apple, "I already consider my life to be yours to use as you wish." His smile never faded, only spread wider as he turned to leave the tent.

Hoshina felt thankful for that as he felt an embarrassing heat flush over his cheeks. He was sure Kafka knew what he was doing when he phrased his words like that.

'It should never be that normal for a man to take that much comfort in his own death.' he thought.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Two hours.

It took two hours for Kafka to finally beat Kyu down far enough to begin the process of devouring it. Hoshina didn't really get a good, long look at the fight, seeing as he was in the middle of fighting for his life at the time. He could certainly hear it though. Loud roars, the ripping of flesh, echoing crashes as they each made serious attempts to destroy the other. It wasn't a stretch to say Hoshina was worried for Kafka at the start. When everyone saw Kyu reveal his full size and found out it was at least three times as large as Kafka's was, he was tempted to give in to the belief that no one was going to win this fight. He was thankful for Kafka asking him to take time out of his day to teach him tips on how to use size to someone's advantage.

Hoshina kept to the edges of the battle as best he could. He had to be able to make a quick getaway by the time Kafka could send the signal to... finish him off. It was a thought he found himself at odds with the whole time before the battle even started. Fighting for survival helped keep his mind off of what he was about to do, but even the fight was beginning to peter out, now that Kyu wasn't in the right head space to keep his control over his human army. It was a difficult thought, wondering what life would be like without Kafka's warm smile by the campfire. He knew Reno wasn't going to take the news well after he commits to the act. That was going to be a mess and a half, he was well aware... but what about the others?

Narumi would act stoic, of course. Hells, he'd probably crack a few jokes over his dead body probably. He would come to miss him eventually when it came time to chop wood for the camp. Kafka always chopped extra so that the others were free to do other things. Iharu would comfort Reno as best he could. Everyone would, now that he thought about it, but Hoshina couldn't shake the feeling that there would be a permanent shift in the mood, an inescapable void in the hearts of everyone, should Kafka be successful and get his wish of shedding his practically immortal coil fulfilled. That didn't matter now. Everyone had made their bed and everyone was going to have to make their peace with it. A shame Reno just happens to be in the crossfire of it all.

Using a spare lance, he stabbed it through a chink in the armor of the man he was fighting and leveraged it to make his opponent fall to the ground. Shoving and twisting it, it sliced through to the other side and anchored the guard to the ground. He took a risk to spare a glance and watch the end of the fight between Kafka and Kyu. Kafka was looking worse for wear but surprisingly intact for as loud and boisterous as it sounded. He appeared to be halfway out of his dragon transformation, scales protruding and tail long and strong as he was currently wrangling the smaller form of Kyu. They rolled and rumbled all around in the grass, with Kyu biting back and Kafka tearing whole chunks of flesh and trying his best to swallow. Kafka already looked a little green because of the transformation, but Hoshina could swear that he looked a little more green than usual in the face. It was a happy, but dreadful sight to see that the more chunks of meat that he tore out, the less it was growing back. Reno was helping as well, firing well places shots into the rancid dragon in attempts to wound and immobilize it long enough for Kafka to tear out more chunks.

Sensing the time to act was nearing, Hoshina called out to Narumi to get ready, for he had a part to play as well. He had to intervene and drag Reno as far away from Kafka as fast as possible before Hoshina could get close. They couldn't tell Reno he didn't have a wish. They all tried, but with the timing of the fight being too close for comfort, they couldn't. Not without letting Reno have time to grieve or not try to find a way to postpone the fight until they could come up with a better plan. It was heartbreaking to say the least, but Hoshina knew Kafka was more than ready to let go. Especially if it meant saving them.

Seconds turned into hours and minutes turned into centuries as Hoshina counted everyone of them until the signal was called. He turned back to look at the fight again just in time to see Reno release one more arrow into the last remains of Kyu. Kafka fell to his knees as he bit the last disgusting morsel off the arrow's head and swallowed roughly. It scared Hoshina just how fast the final act was changing Kafka's appearance. His dragon form became more prominent, but it wasn't the vibrant jade green it was before. The scales became darker and started to fall off of his skin in sheets. A dark mist dripped from his body as he keeled over onto his hands and began to cough violently. He could almost hear screams of agony between the racking of Kafka's lungs throughout the roars of the continuing fight behind him. Hoshina could see Reno mouth the words of his wish to his friend as he writhed in the grass. He became more and more distressed as he witnessed as his pleas were not taking effect like he thought. As Reno fell to his knees as well, shaking the the shoulders and crying in terror over his closest friend and long time companion, is about when Hoshina heard the signal.

"SOSHIROOOOO!" Kafka's roar thundered across the battlefield and rattled in his head. Hoshina had never heard a sound as painful and as pleading, as agonized and as desperate as he heard in that moment. And after today, he hoped to never hear one again.

Both Hoshina and Narumi took off like a shot into a good headwind and booked to where they were. Reno looked confused as he saw them approach, which made it easy for Kafka to rock back onto his knees and grab Reno by the back of his shirt. He somehow had enough willpower in his to launch Reno like a skipping stone toward Narumi's direction. All Hoshina heard as the bodies made contact was Narumi letting out a clipped "Shit!" as both of them whipped behind him. Hoshina turned to focus on his target as he drew out both of his swords and ran faster towards Kafka.

At least... he thought he was moving faster. To him, it felt like he was suddenly wading through a bog and felt just as cold and wet. Time felt like it was slowing even farther with each step he took.

'Now's not the time to be second guessing yourself!' Hoshina screamed in his head.

But he was. He was second guessing everything. He told everyone he could do it. That he was going to kill Kafka. He had to, to save everyone, including Kafka. But he found out in that moment that he couldn't. For all of his bravado and for all of his promises, he couldn't. He couldn't snuff out that brilliant light. That shining, bright beacon of hope and trust that had flown his way into his life. He had no choice, though. There was no other choice.

Wasn't there?

A flicker of a memory flashed briefly in his mind's eye. A small conversation they had weeks prior. A quick mention about wishes.

'When it comes to the magic of wishes', he said, 'It never hurts to try.'

No one could ever be sure when they had a chance to wish, but he'd rather be damned before he didn't give it a shot. Best case scenario, Kafka lives to hate him until he passes, and he found himself to be at peace with that already. Worst case scenario.... Gods should start praying that it doesn't come to that.

Closing the distance quickly, now that his mind was made up, Hoshina leapt into the air and planted his foot onto Kafka's shoulder, the momentum causing him to lay flat on his back. With his hand not occupied with holding himself up, they began to claw and scratch away at his neck and chest. Scraps and slivers of papery skin sloughed off to reveal more of the sickly darker scale. Hoshina's blade tips pierced the ground on either side of Kafka's neck, forming a threatening cross over it. His body shook with the force of him holding back the urge to cough as his hands made their way to the blades. Kafka's hands started bleeding from how hard he was gripping them and Hoshina began to hear the whispers of his final words.

"Soshiro...please..." He cried, teardrops driped from the corners of his eyes. Hoshina could feel his fall off his cheeks and watched as they mixed with Kafka's. The metal blades clinked as Hoshina's hands shook, fear and doubt making him hesitate. With a harsh blink and a tighter grip, Hoshina cried out with the full force of his lungs.

"I WISH YOU WELL ONTO ANOTHER LIFE TIME! I WISH FOR NOTHING TO CHANGE THE WONDERFUL BEING I'VE COME TO KNOW! I WISH FOR ALL THE DAYS THAT I HAVE LEFT WITH YOU TO BE FILLED WITH NOTHING BUT TRUST AND LOVE! KAFKA HIBINO, DRAGON OF THE EIGHTH LINE, SERVANT OF WISHES!" Hoshina's voice cracked as he screamed, the force of his emotions making him feel broken but free.

As he pulled his swords back, resolving not to make the finishing cut, he watched as he saw the runes around Kafka's neck flash and brightened into a brilliant green light. Hoshina fell backwards as he felt Kafka rise up from under him and place a hand on his chest. The whole of his body began to swirl in now familiar grey-green clouds sprinkled in dot-like stars. As he landed on his back, he sensed the air around him get heavier as the light from the sun began to fade away from his closed eyes. When the wind stopped blowing, Hoshina looked above him.

All he saw was the underside of a dragon's foot, scaly and lushly green. It took up the entirety of his vision and it took considerable turning of his head to see any sky beyond it. He stood up on shaking legs as he marveled at the size of his surroundings. He was laying in the portion of the foot that connected the toes to the main part of the foot. It arched upwards so high into the air it would be confused for the roof of a dark cavern. Upon witnessing the size of the foot he was under, Hoshina began to calculate just how big the rest of the dragon was. If he was right, then it could use the biggest mountains as its pillow.

"You okay down there?" A deep voice in his head rang out.

"Y-yeah?" Hoshina thought back, swallowing hard as he panted.

"Good. Because I need you to run." The voice rang in his head again. Hoshina was starting to piece it together that this new voice might be Kafka.

"NOW." the voice boomed. Hoshina didn't think twice as he bolted for the rays of sun closest to him.

Running for several solid minutes, Hoshina made it out the other side and kept going. Off in the distance, he saw Narumi and Reno holding onto each other as they stared in bewilderment at what might have been Kafka's new form. As he kept going, Hoshina turned to look off to the side to see why Kafka ordered him to run from. Blotting over the sun, was the remains of the Wyvrn army, coming for revenge in the name of their fallen master. Hoshina heard the rushing of the wind and felt it pulling around and behind him as he continued to sprint. In the past, he knew that it meant that Kafka was preparing to release his signature sonic screech, but now seeing the size of the dragon behind him he wondered if there was even a safe distance to be from to survive this. He could hear the wing beats of the wyvrns getting closer and closer even as he continued to run, now with Narumi and Reno running as well.

"Everyone, cover your ears!" Hoshina had heard boom in his head.

He did what the voice asked as he watched the two in front do what it asked as well. He turned around at the last second, curiosity getting the better of him. He watched as the screech rippled the air as it traveled to the living cone of teeth and wings. The path of the scream was visible as the flying army exploded into a red mist in a massive wave. Hoshina unfortunately could also feel the force of the wave from where he was standing as well. Even with his hand on his ears, the loud scream felt like it tore through his head and ripped the bones in his ears right out of their canal. The force of the screech made him drop to his knees in pain as he rode out the wave of terrifying sound.

It was over as soon as it started. Hoshina's ears heard nothing but ringing as he gasped for breath. His body shaking, he pulled his hands away from his head to look at them. In his hands were small trails of blood. The ringing didn't stop as he tilted his head to look forward. A long way in front of him was nothing but a massive green cloud of shimmering dust. He watched as a new breeze drifted in as swept away the cloud in wispy trails. Slowly, they began to reveal a naked, kneeling man at the head of the cloud. Desperate and concerned, Hoshina sprinted again, a little more clumsy this time however as he had seemed to have lost his balance. Stumbling and tripping over his feet and hands, he had made it over to Kafka.

Falling onto his calves, he half-slid, half-crawled over to him the rest of the way. He watched as his hands frantically searched over Kafka's body, trying to turn him to face him as he looked to see if the wish worked. He could feel his mouth moving and his lungs straining with the effort to talk, but for the life of him couldn't figure out why he couldn't hear himself speak. Hoshina watched as Kafka turned to face him, eyes ablaze with anger and mouth ready and full of venom, and continue to watch as all those features faded away into sadness and pity and worry and care. Hoshina felt Kafka's hand travel from his hands to the back of his head, gently forcing their foreheads together. They both closed their eyes at the soft touch, and Hoshina began to feel and hear the rush of the mystical wind surrounding his ears. As they pulled away from each other, Hoshina could see worry and sadness were still etched into the shallow lines on his face. He brought his hands up to caress them away, knowing that he'd make them disappear with time soon enough.

"You know I'm going to outlive you now, right?" Kafka said somberly. Hoshina felt himself chuckle lightly.

"Not if I have anything to say about that." He responded.

He leaned forward to catch Kafka's surprised lips. He felt him melt into the touch just before Kafka leveraged his grip on the back of his head to wrestle Hoshina into laying across his lap awkwardly. His hand continued to cradle under his arm and the back of his head as he ravaged Hoshina's lips. It was rough and wild with too much teeth and Hoshina wouldn't have had it any other way. The moment was short lived as they heard an interrupting cough erupt in front of them. Both of them turned to look as they saw the Golden King of Ariaka standing regally before them. He looked better than before, now glowing with new light and appearing healthier than ever. He stood patiently before them and carried his war torn battle cloak on one arm.

"I would like to have a serious conversation with the two of you." lord Isao commanded as he held out the cloak. Realizing that he wanted them to stand, Hoshina grabbed the garment for Kafka and hurriedly shoved it under him to cover Kafka's lap as best as he could. He then got up first and stood in front of his new lover to allow him cover as he tried to put the cloak over his very naked form. Once decent, Kafka walked around to stand front and center next to Hoshina and faced the king. They watched as the king's eyes flickered between the two of them before appearing to make a decision an moved over to kneel honorably in front of Kafka.

"I have learned about the true intentions behind my father's actions since his passing and now know just how morally disgraceful I was acting back then. You are fully in the right not to forgive me, but at least have it be said that I do sincerely apologize." Lord Isao kept his head bowed as he talked, truly acting with genuine regard. Kafka shuffled the edges of the cloak around to stick out a helping hand. Isao's expression remained unchanged as he looked up on the offering.

"Since when does a king bow before a common man?" Kafka asked, a teasing smile splayed over his lips. Hoshina could hear a huffed noise of agreement come out of the lord's nose as he took the hand.

"if that is what you wish to be." Lord Isao responded.

"Only until it is necessary for me to be something else." Kafka answered back. They regarded each other for a moment before the King turned to face Hoshina.

"I have much to thank you for, but much more to discuss. Come." the king commanded simply, indicating for the two of them to follow.

Neither of them cared about what would be coming next. Both of them just took comfort in knowing that they would be facing it together.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Lore Part 2}

Yeeeeahhhhh.... I gave him Survivor's Guilt. Sorry, not sorry.

In all seriousness, I don't really know why exactly my mind jumped to Wish Dragon when I saw Dragon Kafka, outside of just

His Vibes,

But once my brain thought of that, it wouldn't let go and then it spiraled into "Him granting wishes would backfire on him so bad, like it would make him immortal or something." The line about the gifts is a little interesting, I wanted to add more but I felt it would be hard to transition from and ruin the pacing. I kinda picture wishes having the ability to morph slightly over time. Like if you gave a wish to an elf, towards the end of their life the wished parameters would shift slightly? Like if the wish gave them Fireball, then by the time they're, idk, two, three hundred or something, the wish would loosen up a little and now it's just pyromancy. So yeah, at one point someone wished for "His stomach to never be empty" and for a hundred years, he never felt the need to eat. It has since changed to where he can choose whether or not he wants to eat or needs to survive by not focusing on eating for a while. And for a while he was genuinely stuck as a human. At the beginning, he wasn't sure if he was a real boy or not, until it was pointed out to him that he should've looked seventy instead of thirty that he realized that he was still a dragon on the inside. It took him two hundred years for the wish to morph enough to let him gain the ability to shape shift. He also couldn't grant wishes during this time and only realized he could do so again after he met Reno! Yep, that's right! His first wish in two hundred years was him granting Reno's wish to speak his mind to his parents, and we both know how that turned out! 👍 (why do I do this?)

I also don't know what possessed me to have Mina be in his life earlier and turned her into the main source of his survivor's guilt, but I really like the impactful moment it made with Hoshina. It also sounds like something she would do.

In the original drafts that I had in my head, they weren't even going to kiss. There was no plans for flirting even. And then my brain came up with the "My life is yours to use as you wish" line and then I was like

"Mmhhh, yeaaahhh... They're f*cking now. They are contractually obligated to f*ck now."

It probably didn't help that, in my initial thoughts for this story (The version that would have liked to have all the time and motivation in the world to let this become my personal oddyessy) There was SOOO much naked Kafka. This was because I refused to chalk up his clothes remaining intact after transformations to "Dragon Magic". It wouldn't have cost me anything not to.... I just wanted a scene of Hoshina getting flustered over Full Frontal Kafka in Winter.

Speaking of things that didn't get put in, I had a lot more lore beats I wanted to put in that I have since forgotten about because I didn't write them down somewhere else and didn't put them in because it felt it would mess up pacing. AND there was going to be a couple lines of SOSHIRO'S BROTHER chiming in at a few points and flirting heavily with Kafka right in front of Soshiro, but the scene surrounding it didn't pan out soooo.....

In case it wasn't obvious, Kyu the dragon is supposed to be Number Nine. I looked up what nine was in Japanese and the internet said it was 'Kyu'. It's also where I got Kafka's dragon name being 'Hachi' since that means eight. (There's apparently two? words for eight in Japanese? I think? Internet wasn't being clear.)

The reason Kafka supposedly grew in size at the end was because he ate Kyu and absorbed all the soul's energy into his. The wish then neutralized the transformation that would have caused Kafka to become a MoriWyvrn but the souls had nowhere to go so now Kafka's just overpowered now.

The colored lettering is supposed to represent times where Kafka's voice doesn't sound human and sounds more like his dragon voice. Like if he started to sound like a Kaiju while as a human.

Isao's father kidnapped Kafka at one point and started demanding that Kafka give him a wish and Kafka basically said "Up Yours 🖕" and (Prince) Isao had said "No, U 🖕" and that's what he's apologizing over.

LAST BONUS THOUGHT: Kikoru is the general of the army that's fighting against the foreign invasion in the North.

Okay, I think that's everything. Again, I know it was clear you had your own lore ideas for this, but I hope you didn't mind hearing mine.

Guess what I've been doing last night (and by last night I mean I couldn't sleep and got up again at 1 am and was awake 'till 5am or smth.... :D told ya my sleep schedule is in shambles by now)

Yeaah..I am actually suprised it took me this long to squeeze them onto my most favorite universe of all...so..yeah.. hit the old fantasy- and witcher playlist and well...the mind was loong gone..at this point... I feel like this is not really 100% Witcher-verse, but also a bit Skyrim-ish?...something in between but def. fantasy like..

So what came from it are some messy sketches I like very much :D even if Hoshina is a little T-posing, lol, but that's OK..

I love how I'm not even putting the names in anymore.. xD you should now my fav bois by now hopefully...

since I totally stole that badass posture from Zhen Qu'S fanart, I feel like I at least should tag the reference - LOOK at it it's amazing <3

I wonder if I will continue the series this time, 'cause I'd love to give Narumi a proper armour and there's a certain forest elve I'd like to add as well, BUT I know my adhd brain, and I'm making no promises here..

(and def. no more allnighters, I need to get my schedule fixed, I'm at a Con this weekend, I need to get up at DECENT times god dammit)

[quintinh43]

Devils Red | Luke Hughes

Warnings: 18+ MDNI

"What the FUCK is that?" Luke screeches, as you walk into the bedroom. His sudden yell startles you, and you jump towards him, quickly glancing behind you.

"Whats what? Is it a spider? Please, God no, no spiders," you ramble, terrified, jumping onto the bed with Luke as you peer at the floor.

"No," Luke shakes his head, pointing at your chest, "I'm talking about that! Why the fuck are you wearing a New York Rangers t-shirt," he gags on the word Rangers for dramatic effect.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, thank goodness there were no spiders. "Oh, this? It's my favourite shirt," you smile fondly. It's a Navy blue t-shirt, with the words New York Rangers printed across the front in a large bold font.

Luke folds his arms across his chest, pouting, "Why do you even own a Rangers shirt?" He asks sourly.

"My dad bought it for me," you shrug, tying off your almost dry hair in a braid and slipping under the covers beside Luke.

"Why would your dad buy you a rangers t-shirt?" He asks, tugging on the soft fabric of your tee with a displeased look on his face. You bat his hand away and curl into his chest, ready to go to sleep.

"He bought it for me cause he knew I liked hockey but not which teams, and he was on a work trip in New York, and I guess he saw Rangers merch and bought it for me." You mumble against his chest. To your surprise, Luke has yet to wrap his arms around you.

You peak one eye open to look at him. He's looking down at you, mouth twisted in a frown. You prop yourself up on an elbow and run a hand through his slightly damp curls. "What's wrong, honey?" You ask concerned, feeling his forehead and neck with your palms to see if his temperature is above average.

He wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling it away from his face gently, "I don't like that you're wearing a Rangers shirt." He pouts.

You roll your eyes, a small chuckle leaving your lips. "I promise, it doesn't mean anything. The only reason I still own it is cause my dad got it for me as a gift." You explain, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"You just said it was your favourite," Luke huffs.

"It's my favourite cause my dad bought it for me," you say again, crossing your arms over your chest, "not because it's a rangers shirt,"

You squak in surprise as Luke squishes your cheeks between his palms so you can't talk, "Baby, I genuinely dont think I can sleep next to you if you're wearing a Rangers shirt," he says it so seriously that you actually believe him.

Before you even have the option to poke fun at his absurdity, Luke is pulling his red Devils Hockey t-shirt over his head and holding it out to you expectantly. You roll your eyes, grabbing the t-shirt from him.

You turn your back to him to strip off your shirt. He pokes, reaches over, and snaps the band of your panties against your skin. "What was that for?" You yelp more from surprise that pain as you glare at him over your shoulder.

"What'd you turn around for?" Luke whines.

"Cause I'm changing, duh," you grumble, pulling the t-shirt off. Before you can pull the devils tee over your head, Luke is wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling your back against his bare chest.

"I wanna see all those pretty marks I left on your pretty tits," Luke smirks, breath fanning over your neck, causing a shiver to shoot down your spine.

"Luke!" You gasp, cheeks heating as you smack him in the chest, "Don't be so crude!"

Luke chuckles, nipping sharply at your earlobe, "You're acting like I didn't just have my dick inside you less than an hour ago,"

"Why'd you have to say it like that?" You mumble embarrassedly, hiding your face against his shoulder.

"Like what?" Luke smirks, knuckles brushing the underside of your boobs, you squirm in his hold, thighs clenching as his fingers skim over your ribs and down your sides He tightens his arms around your waist, keeping you still against him as he trails soft kisses along the curve of your neck.

"Luke," his name comes out a desperate whine, "Luke, I don't have anymore in me,"

"You sure angel? I think I could get one more," he smirks, his hands trailing back up your torso to knead at your hickey marked breasts.

"Lukey please," a soft man spills from your lips as his thumbs flick over your pert nipples. You aren't even sure what you're begging for anymore.

"How 'bout we make a bet? Hmm?" His teeth graze the sensitive skin at the crook of your neck and shoulder, "if I can get one more orgasm out of you i'm throwing out that rangers shirt, and if a can't, i'll never say anything about it ever again. Sound good angel?"

Luke pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and takes your answering whimper as a yes. He tugs your soaked panties off, throwing them somewhere across the room.

He shimmies his sweats and boxers down his thighs, freeing his straining cock from the confines of the fabric. He gives his length a few quick pumps, before he's lifting your hips and guiding you down on his cock slowly. You whimper against the skin of his neck, body still sensitive from earlier. He stops when your hips meet his, a pleasureable burn shoots through your core as you stretch to accommodate his length.

Your reach around the back of his neck, fingers tangling I'm the curls at the base of his neck, while your other hand clutchs at his thigh. "You can move," you whisper.

Luke presses a kiss to your shoulder as he fucks up into you at a steady pace. "Feels so good angel, so tight and wet for me," he murmurs as he kneads at your tits. One of his hands trail down your stomach, and slips between your legs. Two fingers stroking your slit, and finding your clit with ease.

"Lukey 's too much," you whimper, back arching against him, as his strokes your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I know angel, I know," Luke coos softly, " But you're doin' so good for me, so pretty, so sweet."

He nudges your legs wider, hit thrusts going deeper than before. Your moans and gasps seem to echo off the walls as Luke finds your sweet spot. Your fingertips dig into the muscle of his thigh as you clench around him. You can feel his lips tilt into a smirk against your sweat slicked skin.

"Let go for me, angel," he commands, voice dripping with honeyed love.

With his sweet words added the combination of his hands on your clit and breasts and his dick brushing the deepest parts of you, your release crashes over you like a tidal wave. Luke follows right after, filling you up with his warm release.

You go completely boneless against Luke, legs shaking with the aftermath of pleasure. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear while his hands dance over your torso in soothing patterns. Your eyes flutter closed as his hands continue their soft motions. Across your torso, over your thighs, up your arms, everywhere he can reach.

"Gonna pull out now, angel," he whispers. His hands grip your hips as he lifted you off his softening cock. He deposits you gently on the bed and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Be back in a sec."

You hum in acknowledgment, shivering at the loss of his warmth. A warm damp cloth against your inner thighs makes you jolt in surprise. "Sorry, love," Luke murmurs with a sheepish smile. He deposits the cloth in the laundry bin and grabs you a new pair of underwear while you grab the discarded devils t-shirt and slip it over your head.

"How 'bout we forgo the shirt all together," he grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You insatiable horny bastard," you grumble, rolling your eyes as he slips under the covers beside you.

You cling to him immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, fingers delving into his hair, while you tangle your legs together. Luke's hands snake under your t-shirt, rubbing soothing circles into your hip and back.

"For the record," Luke yawns, tucking his face against your hair, "you look much better in devils red, and im burning that stupid ass rangers shirt tomorrow."

"Luke Hughes, so help me god you are not burning a shirt that my father gifted me." You scold, poking him in the chest for emphasis.

Luke pouts,"But babe, I won our bet,"

"I never agreed to any bet." You say, with mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Luke opens his mouth to argue, but as he recalls the events that happened, it hits him that you never agreed yo anything. His mouth falls into the shape of an 'o', and you kiss him on the cheek with a smirk.

"Also, just so you know, my dad didn't onky buy me Rangers merch. Thanks to him, I also own Sharks, Blue Jackets, and Blackhawks stuff.

Luke looks at you in utter disbelief, "are you fucking kidding me?"

You giggle, and press a kiss to his lips before tucking your face agaisnt his chest, "I love you Luke, Goodnight."

---

This is my first time writing smut 🤠

Don't mind me while I throw away my phone away for the next 3-5 business days.

Anyways, I hope yall enjoy...

[a-leg-without-fear]

Strange Love

i am so fucking obsessed with this man it ain't even FUNNY. oh btw here's some filth

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 18+ (i need jesus)

Wordcount: 4.5k

Warnings: smut, foreplay, mentions of PTSD, bloodplay, PnV sex, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, logan's teeth, choking, knifeplay, slight voyeurism if you squint seriously this is so dirty i NEED jesus

Song: Strange Love by Halsey

It wasn’t the tossing and turning that woke you. It wasn’t the occasional movement of his hands, the pushing into your side, the sheets being tugged off your body. You had grown accustomed to the flinches and twitches. Those things were typical when sharing a bed with someone. 

It was his breathing. Short, quick, ragged. Like a band of iron was squeezing his chest and restricting his lungs.

Your eyes snapped open and flicked to Logan. He was covered in sweat, beads dripping down his forehead plastered in drenched hair. His teeth were bared, grinding. Sharp canines digging into his bottom lip and splitting the skin before the wounds would seal themselves. Fists clenched in the damp sheets, claws just barely poking out of between his knuckles, fingers squeezing the cotton between them.

Right, a nightmare. He was having a nightmare.

These were a nightly occurrence for him. Logan’s past would dredge itself up in his sleep and torture him for hour upon sleepless hour. Raking his mind through the coals only for him to wake up and not remember a thing. 

It was risky to wake him like this. Once, Marie had tried to get him to wake up only for Logan’s adamantium claws to end up pierced in her stomach. She was fine, having briefly absorbed Logan’s healing ability and allowed herself to live.

That wasn’t a risk you could take. You had a minor amount of healing your body was capable of. Smaller cuts and bruises were your specialty. You could manipulate the rate at which blood flowed and carried the necessary chemicals in order to seal wounds and reverse bruising. Foot-long claws stabbed into your abdomen weren’t something you could easily fix.

You cleared your throat, shifting to the side of the bed opposite him, and said, “Logan?”

No response. He continued to breathe heavily, eyes darting back and forth beneath his furrowed brow. You sat up, determined to end this round of nightly torment. 

“Logan? Hun, wake up,” you said, louder than the previous attempt. A string of incoherent mumbles escaped between his clenched teeth. You sighed and climbed out of bed. Turning to face him and crossing your arms, you braced yourself and yelled, “Logan!”

His hazel eyes flew open as he jolted up, claws shooting out and chest heaving. Silver light glinted off the six razor sharp claws jutting out of his fists. The sheets bunched around his bare waist, his pillow falling off the bed and onto the floor.

“Logan?” you asked, as quiet and calming as possible. Logan’s gaze shifted to you from darting wildly around the room. As soon as his eyes met yours, the claws retreated back beneath his flushed and clammy skin.

He swallowed with difficulty as his mind registered who you were. You could practically see the gears turning beneath his soaked, dark hair.

“Logan? It’s me,” you said. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his eyelids.

“Shit, I’m sorry, doll. Did I wake you?” he grunted. He leaned back on one arm as he smoothed his hair away from his face. It was hard to prevent your gaze from wandering. A toned, tanned chest peppered in dark chest hair melting into defined abs with a trail of dark hair leading beneath the sheets. It took a lot of willpower to look back at Logan’s face.

“Eh, I’m used to it,” you replied, an easy smile falling across your lips. You kneeled back on the bed and ran a comforting hand along his shoulder. His gaze fell to your hand then met your eyes again. 

“It’s not the best thing to get used to,” he said. You could feel the muscles in his shoulder tensing under your palm. A frown stretched across his face, “I shouldn’t be wakin’ you every night.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” you said softly. You lifted your free hand and smoothed out the wrinkles created by his furrowed eyebrows. Logan smacked your hand away as you laughed.

“Seriously. I could hurt you,” he insisted. To emphasize his point, a single claw extended from his right hand, opposite of the side closest to you. He lifted the metal beside his face and said, “When I sleep, I ain’t in control of these things. I… I can’t lose you.”

You raised your hand, running your fingertips across Logan’s arm, before taking his fist in yours. He allowed the action, keeping the claw extended. You moved his hand closer to your face.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked, tugging his hand out of yours. The silver claw retracted back between his knuckles. You sighed while climbing into his lap, straddling his hips with your thighs. You grabbed the same hand again.

“Do you trust me?” you asked. Logan’s glare searched for some kind of trick or fear hiding behind your amused expression.

“Of course I do,” he replied, albeit a little apprehensive. You placed a chaste kiss to his middle-finger knuckle.

“Then extend your claw, handsome,” you breathed into his skin.

Logan’s shoulders shuddered, his eyes falling closed as a strained breath floated from his lips. The hand you had stroking along his neck shifted to bury its fingers in his hair. His back arched, his bare chest meeting your sleep shirt.

“Vampire-”

“Extend your claw. I’ll prove that you’ll never hurt me,” you whispered. Your lips trailed across his knuckles while your fingers tangled in the soft strands at the base of his neck. A quiet groan bounced around inside Logan’s chest.

Slowly, reluctantly, his middle adamantium claw slid out of his fist. Moonlight danced along the sharp edge and gave the claw an almost ethereal glow. You turned Logan’s hand, inspecting the claw at all angles, enjoying the reflections it projected on the walls.

“Do you trust me?” you said, repeating yourself. You needed absolute clarity before continuing. Logan nodded as another shudder worked its way over his chest. You ran your eyes over his expression. His eyes were closed, tense, his lips parted slightly. The hand you had in his hair rested on his jaw, fingers buried in his short beard, thumb tracing his bottom lip, “Yes or no, Logan.”

“Yes. Yes, doll, I do,” he replied.

With the affirmation you needed, you shifted your focus back to the threatening claw in front of you. You considered it for a moment. The length, the width, the sharp edge. Squaring your shoulders and steeling your nerves, you brought his hand closer to your face as you parted your lips. 

You ran the blade along the center of your tongue. The bite of cold metal pierced your flesh and stung as it slid along the muscle. You felt blood pool in your mouth, leaking out of the corners of your lips and down your chin.

Logan’s eyes popped open when the scent of your blood filled his nose. He yanked his fist away as his claw disappeared. Both of his palms clung to the sides of your face. You kept your mouth open, smiling, cradling the pooling blood on your tongue.

“What the shit? The hell’s wrong with you, vampire?” Logan exclaimed. Your smile held steady as his expression grew frantic. You watched Logan’s face closely as you enacted your plan. 

Your blood began to float out of your mouth in small beads, tiny planets chasing each other, flying from your tongue and into the air around you, forming a ring circling your head. Once you’d cleared most of the blood, you focused on closing the wound. You felt the flesh knit itself back together inch by inch, wound stitching itself closed. When the last bit of leaking blood had exited your mouth, your tongue fully healed, you closed your smile and let the droplets orbit your head.

“You won’t hurt me, Logan. No more than others have in the past,” you said. Logan’s expression remained unchanged, still eyeing you like you were fucking insane, hands clutched to both sides of your face. You stuck your tongue out again. “See? No harm done.”

“You… You can heal?” he asked. His thumb glided across your face to run along your bottom lip. You let your mouth fall open so he could see the absence of blood. He scoffed, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not nearly as strong as yours. I can heal surface level stuff on anyone, not just me. Blood manipulation and all,” you explained. A fond smile remained settled across your face. You willed the blood floating around you to soar through the air in a stream, like crimson ribbons braiding and weaving into each other, before directing it into an empty glass on the nightstand.

Logan looked like you had told him the wildest theory about the moon landing imaginable. Eyebrows raised to his widow’s peak, nose scrunched, lips parted, eyes wide. It would have been amusing, laughable even, if it wasn’t such a tense moment.

Without warning his mouth was on yours, fingers tangled in your hair, arms shoving your chest against his. His hips rocked up against yours and you felt just how hard this conversation had made him. You gasped into his mouth when he tugged at the base of your neck.

“All this time,” he murmured. One of his hands left your hair and tugged up the hem of your t-shirt. His teeth trailed from your lips, to your jaw, to the soft skin at the crook of your neck, “All this fuckin’ time. I was worried I’d hurt you. That I’d wake up and skewer you like I did Rogue.”

A choked moan escaped your lips when his hand squeezed at your breast. Rough and calloused and almost mean. Logan’s sharp canines nicked the skin above the artery that ran beneath your ear. You whined as blood leaked from the new wound.

“But you? You’re just full of fucking surprises, aren’t you?” he said. He licked a broad swipe across the blood streaming down your throat. You ground down into his cock, the heat between your thighs seeking as much friction as possible. Both of you moaned as the deep liquid coated Logan’s mouth. 

“We’ve got-shit, plenty of time to find them all,” you said through a breathless grin. The fingers in your hair tightened and tugged your head back, baring your throat as Logan lapped at your neck, staining it red. 

You continued to grind into him while your hands gripped his forearms. Your nails dug into his skin, pinpricks of red sprouting around the crescent shapes. You brought a finger up to your mouth and licked along the tip of the nail. An explosion of copper coated your freshly healed tongue. A taste like none you’d ever had before, like a long-aged wine that’d just been opened. 

You needed to have more.

The knife you kept on your nightstand, the pommel a glass ball filled with your blood, swished through the air and landed in your open palm. Your other hand carded through Logan’s hair in an attempt to get his attention.

“Can I cut you?” you breathed. A feral grin spread across Logan’s face. His claw shinked back out of his fist and slashed down your shirt. The cotton separated like butter under a hot knife, your shirt sagging down your shoulders and falling away from your chest. A thin cut was left between your breasts. Like a red clay path between two rolling hills. 

“As long as I can cut you,” he replied, tongue tracing the new wound. Your head fell back as you arched into his mouth, doing your best to focus on closing the bite in your neck. Getting the skin to connect was growing more difficult as Logan coated his tongue in red and his half-lidded eyes met yours.

“Fuck, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” you said through gritted teeth. You shrugged off your destroyed t-shirt as you felt the cut on your neck close. Your left hand tugged at Logan’s hair, bringing his lips back to yours, bare chests colliding. 

The air between you grew heated and humid. Teeth clashed, tongues darted into each other’s mouths tasting of copper and sin, claws and nails and blade slicing through skin, fingers pulling on hair. Each wound that closed was replaced with a fresh one, tongue and lips following the lines of leaking blood. If you were normal both of you would be covered in more scars than one could count. But, because you were mutants, the skin sealed as if nothing had ever pierced it. Smooth and soft and absolutely covered in blood.

You felt the room spin as you and Logan flipped. He had one hand on your shoulder, pinning your torso to the bed, while the other wrapped around your throat. His broad, warm hand nearly encompassed your whole neck. The power he held over you stoked the flames in your abdomen to burn away at your sense and reason.

His mouth was back on yours, drinking from you like a dying man. Teeth nipped at your lips, your tongue, your chin. Sharp bites that left the taste of copper in their wake. The hand on your shoulder traveled down your overheated body. Passing over swathes of skin painted red and bruises long since dissipated. His fingertips brushed along the waistband of your shorts and a growl reverberated from his throat.

“You have three seconds to get these off before they’re ripped off,” Logan said, the words echoing in your mind like a prayer in an empty chapel.

You had never stripped yourself so fast in your life. Your fumbling hands slipped beneath your waistband, having to concentrate on both getting naked and Logan’s mouth on yours, and you slipped both your panties and your shorts off in one pull. You kicked them off the bed in record time.

“Mm, that was five seconds. I’ll need to see to that later,” he said, kissing down your jaw between growled words. A shiver rolled across your spine at the way his voice thrummed against your neck. You felt the hand gripping your throat tighten, restricting your breathing, making you gasp. Your hands launched forward, seeking anything to grab in their path, landing on the forearm choking you. Logan nipped your collarbone as he said, “Don’t be surprised to see those shorts in shreds tomorrow.”

He loosened his grip slightly, letting warm air back into your heaving lungs. You felt your pulse rushing in your ears.

“Logan, please,” you whimpered. The heat between your legs was unbearable. Wave after wave of arousal slammed into your trembling body and left you breathless. Your thighs were definitely soaked. You could feel wetness dripping off your skin and onto the sheets below you. Logan bit harder at your lowest rib, making you cry out, “Please! I need you. Please, Logan.”

“I’ve got you, hotstuff. Don’t worry,” he purred. His canines dragged along your stomach, leaving fire in their wake, as he shifted lower on your body. The hand gripping your throat slid down your chest and pinned your hips in place, arm slung across your stomach like a lead pipe. His free hand massaged and groped at your shaking thighs. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, grinning, “So polite, how can I refuse?”

The first pass of his tongue through your cunt made your back bow off the bed. Your hands scrabbled against the soaked sheets, nonsense and cries of ecstasy escaping through your kiss-swollen lips.

A low groan passed through his throat and vibrated against your clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the shocks of pure pleasure zipping through your bloodstream.

“Fuck, sugar. All this just for me, huh?” he murmured. You weren’t entirely sure if it was meant for you, but before you could decide he buried his face in your cunt. Tongue spearing inside you, nose bumping against your clit, large fingers holding you open. The air inside your lungs shot out of you like a bullet. 

If your mind had any sense left, the sounds you and Logan were making would’ve been obscene. The wet squelching of him licking at your folds, his rough grunts, your breathless moans and airy whimpers. It would’ve made you embarrassed to ever show your face outside of this room again. But with Logan between your thighs and his arm braced across your abdomen, you could hardly care. 

He shifted so his lips could wrap around your clit, sucking and running the blunt edge of his teeth over where you’re most sensitive. A startled yelp kicked out of your mouth. Your hands flew to his hair and tangled in the damp strands. You felt his fingers run along your entrance, gathering slick along the calloused pads.

“You want me inside you, doll?” he asked huskily, sounding almost as wrecked as you felt. It took all your willpower to lift your eyelids and meet Logan’s eyes. 

“Please. Please, please, I need you Logan,” you slurred. Your grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to emphasize your point. 

He latched back onto your clit, eyes still locked with yours, as two fingers pushed inside you. The digits entered you with almost no resistance, you were so soaked. A loud moan fell from your lips as the accompanying noise from your cunt made you feel fucking filthy.

“Fuck, doll,” he grunted against your clit. He started pumping his fingers inside you, slow at first, letting you feel every ridge and knuckle glide in and out, making sure to brush against that spot inside you that made you see stars every time. Your thighs involuntarily clenched around his head. Your head flew back against the mattress beneath you, breath leaving your gaped mouth in quick bursts.

When his pace increased, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. That coil in your core was tightening at a speed that even Peter couldn’t compete with. Your fingers scraped at Logan’s scalp, breathing seeming to be a thing of the past.

“Come for me, vampire,” he said, slipping a third finger inside you. The claws attached to the arm across your waist extended, piercing into the mattress and securing you further on the bed. If Logan wasn’t who he was, you’d be afraid of hurting him from how tight your thighs were squeezed around his head. But that chrome dome was nowhere near perturbed as he shoved you into your first orgasm of the night.

Sparks of white hot electricity short-circuited your brain and rendered you breathless. Your back seized up and arched off the bed, mouth flying open, breath halted inside frozen lungs. Pulsing, neverending, world-encompassing pleasure covered you like a thick, electrified blanket. Zaps of shityesgood sparked across your skin, burrowing deep into your flesh and filling your veins.

“There ya go, that’s a good girl,” Logan said. You barely registered him, the roaring in your ears was so loud. He continued to finger you through your orgasm, placing the occasional kiss on your hyper-sensitive skin, making you jolt.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to stop, for the blanket to lift off your body. Logan slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips. Low groans brought you back to reality as he licked your slick off his fingers.

His claws retracted as he climbed back up your body, placing sloppy wet kisses as he went. You hummed when his lips found yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, tangy and salty and distinctly you. Mixed with Logan’s smoke and whiskey, you felt like you could breathe this taste and grow intoxicated. You whined as Logan pulled back.

“Ready for more?” he asked. You nodded, biting your lip as a smile graced your features.

Logan grinned back as he hiked your legs up onto his hips and positioned himself by your entrance, cock hard and heavy in his hand. Your hands laced in his hair and yanked his mouth back to yours. The wet, hot tip of his cock glided through your folds, making both of you groan into each other’s mouths.

The first push inside stretched you almost to the point of pain, but you were so wet and needy you hardly cared. Your breathing grew ragged, panting into Logan’s open mouth, as he slid inside you. Every vein along his cock dragged against your walls, making you whine and cant beneath him. 

When he was buried to the hilt inside you, hips connected with your thighs, he braced one hand above you while the other held your leg on his hip. It seemed to take all of his willpower to open his eyes and look down at you.

“Shit, you feel good. Doin’ alright?” he groaned. You nodded a frantic yes, gripping his hair tighter and touching his forehead to yours.

“Logan please fuck me, please, please,” you whispered. You were barely cognizant. Just a body made of an animalistic need. A pure, feral, unadulterated need that only Logan could satisfy.

Logan chuckled, “When you ask like that, doll, how could I say no?”

The slow drag out of you made you grieve the loss of feeling completely full. Your nails dug into Logan’s scalp as whiny moans passed through your clenched teeth. He whispered reassurance into your skin as he pushed back inside, a smooth glide all the way in. He tried to set a slow pace, tried to give you time to adjust. But the pleas spilling from your lips and the grip of your thighs around his hips gave him the last shove he needed.

Quick, wet slaps bounced around the room as he rammed into you, over and over and over again. Pounding into you so hard you swore you could feel him in your throat and that if you weren’t mutant, you would break. High moans met choked grunts in the air between you. The bed’s wooden headboard slammed into the wall behind you in pace with Logan’s thrusts. 

And just like that his teeth were on you again. Biting and scraping and marking, drawing blood just for it to disappear under his tongue. Your shoulders, your collarbone, your breasts, your neck. None were left unmarked. And they remained ravaged, your mind too fractured by his relentless fucking to focus on healing yourself. 

“Fuck, vampire,” he moaned against your skin. His eyes were glassy, distant. Like his entire mind was devoted to filling you to the brim over and over again. The hand braced above your head grabbed the back of your neck, lifting your head so his lips could crash into yours. You were a mess of teeth and tongues and blood. Mindless, breathless moans swallowed between you.

You could feel that coil again. It tightened tauntingly at each thrust, each pound into you that drove you further into insanity. Flames of pure need licked and burned along your skin, only satisfied when Logan was filling you to the brim. Jesus, if you couldn’t feel every thrust rattle your teeth and send you further into oblivion.

Logan adjusted above you, nearly folding you in half as both his hands landed next to you on the bed. Like this, every thrust hit that spot inside you. Splitting you open to leave nothing but a moaning mess behind. 

He groaned above you, teeth gritted, and his claws shot out of his fists. The sound of fabric tearing filled your roaring ears. Deep gauges left in the mattress on either side of your head. Threatening, terrifying even. But to your fuck-drunk mind it only turned you on more. The unquenchable furnace burning in your core flamed into a blazing inferno. Your fingers scraped along his skin, searching mindlessly for something to ground you.

Another groan from Logan, reverberating from deep in his chest, as his forehead touched yours again. A spot of gentleness in the undeniably brutal way he was fucking you.

“I’m-Fuck!-I’m getting real close, doll,” he grunted, his pace never slowing or lessening in its ferocity. He unburied his hand from the bed, retracting his claws, and lowered it between your bodies to rub circles into your swollen clit.

“Ah! Fuck, Logan!” you yelped. You could feel yourself hurtling toward your inescapable second orgasm. Your eyes, unfocused as they were, tried to zero in on Logan above you. You felt like you were caught beneath a launching rocket, being blasted by the flames from the metal beast above you.

One, two, three more thrusts and then you were gone. Ecstasy poured into your veins like ink in water, drowning all you were, all you knew, all you felt. Eyes clouding over with swirling spots of black and white, the inferno in your core overtaking you like a forest fire. All you were was burned away, flames inhaling your body and mind, until all that was left was a mewling, breathless, writhing person that didn’t feel like yourself. 

Logan wasn’t too far behind you. The relentless pounding inside you grew ragged, sloppy, his fingers tangling in your hair to let him breathe the same air as you. A sharp groan echoed from his chest as his thrusts stilled, spilling inside you. Hands gripped at the soft flesh on your hips, pinning you against him, prolonging his orgasm.

You felt weightless, like you were floating on the destroyed bed below you and the only thing keeping you grounded was Logan on top of you. Lazy, trembling fingers traced the veins on his forearms, still clutched to your sides. Your hazy vision focused on his face. Blissed out, eyes closed, chest heaving. You felt a lopsided grin stretch across your swollen lips.

“Told you, ya won’t hurt me,” you rasped. You must have screamed at some point, because your throat was scratchy and sore. Not that you minded.

Logan let out a breathless chuckle above you. His fingers massaged soothing circles into your hips as his eyes opened, gaze landing on your post-orgasmic smirk.

He cleared his throat then said, “You sure? I got pretty rough.”

Your eyes fell closed as you used the remaining fragments of your mind to close the wounds across your neck and chest, willing the skin to seal and the bruises to flush away. Once you were satisfied you opened your eyes again.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you said, grinning. Logan shook his head, matching your grin, as he slid out of you. An involuntary whine slipped up your throat at the loss of him inside you. The loss was quickly remedied by him laying down beside you, wrapping you in his arms and tucking you against his chest. You settled in, nestling your cheek against his damp skin, while he hummed above you.

“I know you can, but I’m not so sure about the sheets.”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you observed the carnage around you. The once (somewhat) pristine, light blue sheets were absolutely covered in blood, loose threads, and other results of what the two of you had just done. Not to mention the holes in the mattress that could no way in hell be fixed.

You let out a sigh as your hand covered your eyes, face flushed. Logan smirked and kissed the top of your head.

“We’ll get ‘em replaced, doll. Don’t worry about it,” he said, amusement at your situation laced in every word.

However, the two of you froze in response to the words that filled your heads, the disappointment palpable and tone icy.

“It’ll come out of your wallets.”

i'd like to thank @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for encouraging my obsession with logan. much love to them both and the rest of the murdock tuna team 🐟

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[minniesmutt]

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☾ ━━━ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: MORNING SEX, HAND JOB, FINGERING, CLIT PLAY, PET NAMES, SWITCH!CHAN AND READER, NO REAL D/S DYNAMIC, TEASING, PRAISE, RIDING, BOOB PLAY, UNPROTECTED SEX, CHAN CALLS READER 'MUMMY' ONCE, CREAMPIE, IMPLIED MORE ROUND ☾ ━━━ WC: 0.6K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Chan usually woke up before his girlfriend. His favorite thing was waking up next to her and watching her sleepy figure before she woke up and he got to say good morning with his lips pressed against hers. Some days even woke her up with kisses, especially when he woke up horny.

     Pecking all over her face and neck till she groaned. “Morning baby.” Chan smiled against her neck, pulling her back against his chest as he continued kissing her neck.

     “Chan,” Y/n grumbled, feeling his morning wood pressing against her ass

     “Y/n,” Chan replied, hands coming up to hold her boobs, gently massaging them and toying with her nipples while he ground his hips against her. “Help me out,” he begged

     Y/n groaned and tried wiggling out of his grasp. Chan pulled her back to him, “Babe,” Chan whined

     Y/n giggled and turned around in his hold. Seeing Chan pouting at her before she pressed her lips onto his. Chan happily returned the kiss and moved to hold the back of her head, keeping her against him.

     Y/n snaked a hand between their bodies till her fingers found his hard cock. Always thankful in these times that they slept nude. Chan moaned into her mouth as her hand wrapped around him. Slowly moving up and down while Chan moved his hand from the back of her head to between her legs.

     Fingers finding her clit and slowly rubbing circles into the little bud. Both moaning into the other's mouth. “Need you, baby,” Chan whined against her lips. 

     “My big boy needs my help,” Y/n teased as she gently rolled him onto his back. Chan smiled as she climbed on top of him. 

     “Always need your help,” Chan said, grabbing her hips.

     Y/n leaned down and pressed her lips onto his again. Chan melted into her lips as he slowly moved her hips against him. Y/n reached behind her and wrapped her hand around him, pointing his tip at her entrance. Slowly he pushed her hips down. 

     Y/n pulled away from his lips and sat up. Making it a little easier to sit on him as he stretched her out. Chan helped her slowly move down till he was fully inside of her. Y/n let herself adjust to him again. 

     “Didn’t fuck you open enough last night baby?” Chan teased her, rubbing her hip bone with his thumb. 

     “Always do,” Y/n sighed as she slowly started bouncing on him. 

     Chan gripped her hips tighter as she grabbed his wrists. Bouncing just a little faster with his help. 

     “Love having you ride my dick. Look so fucking pretty.” Chan rambled. Praising her while she leaned forward and planted her hands on his chest

     Occasionally grinding down on him till he got impatient. Planting his feet on the bed and fucking up into her. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n moaned as she moved to hold the pillow under him. 

     “Can’t tease me this early in the morning baby girl,” Chan chuckled

     “So fun though,” Y/n smiled as she lay on his chest and pressed her lips onto his again. 

     Chan moaned into her mouth as his dick twitched inside of her. Wrapping his arms around her as he all but plowed into her. Y/n covered her noises as best she could in his shoulder. His hips snapped into her and reverberated off his bedroom walls. 

     “Fuck,” Chan growled as her walls clenched around him, “want me to cum in your pretty little cunt baby? make you a mummy.”

      “Yes. Please, Channie,” Y/n whined as she clenched around him more and more. 

      “Take it, baby,” Chan groaned, “take all of it.”

     She could feel his warm cum shooting into her moments later. Hips stuttered to a stop inside her as they caught their breath. 

     Y/n slowly sat up when his arms fell away from her body. 

     “I love you,” Chan smiled up at her. 

     “I love you too,” Y/n smiled back as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her again

     “Round two?” he suggested, pressing a kiss to her chest

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[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Catstarion

Sorry for the slow uploads, been going out with friends and working for a bit but here's the next one, inspired by @bg-brainrot's post here. Thank you for the idea!

As you set your cup down, ready for another round of wine, you sense something, no, someone staring intently at you. Turning around, you find Astarion standing at the stairs leading up to the rooms, ruby red eyes piercing into your very soul as he stares, arms resting on the banister.

You’ve known him long enough to know what this means so with a sigh, you thank the bartender for his hospitality, excuse yourself from your increasingly drunk group of companions and head over to the stairs.

The vampire grins when he sees you approaching, gently pulling you to one side by your arm.

“Already turning in for the night, my sweet?” His fingers trail up your arm, lips whispering in your ear. The tips of your ears burn, feeling his words ghost over them.

“So it seems,” you reply. “Care to join me?”

The corners of his lips curve upwards, a sparkle in his eyes as he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and gently takes the lead, thumb running over the back of your palm. His wordless answer brings a small smile to your face and you let him guide you, annoyance left at the bar counter.

He turns the corner and opens the door to his room, ushering you in before closing the door behind him. He remains standing at the door as you make your way to the bed, getting comfortable before patting the spot next to you but he doesn’t move.

Raising an eyebrow, you tuck yourself under the covers before patting the pillow next to yours and yet he refuses to budge. Well, third time’s the charm, right? You open your arms and he immediately shoots over, burying himself in your embrace. Amused, you chuckle, which sends reverberations through him. He happily hums in response, shifting so that you have easy access to the entirety of his hair and grabs one of your hands, dropping it on the top his head.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” you snort as you begin to run your fingers through his soft white curls. He lets out a sigh of contentment, basking in the familiar rhythm of your fingers combing his locks, massaging his scalp along the way. The gentle movements start to lull him into a trance and he feels his eyes begin to close, his grip on your clothes loosening but then you do the unthinkable.

You shift.

Immediately his eyes snap open and he turns to glower up at you. You raise your hands in surrender, eyeing him warily as he scowls.

“My love, please do not interrupt my trance again.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.”

“It better not.”

With a huff, he turns, stretching out across your legs like a cat before curling back up, feeling your fingers continue their movements through his hair. He loves it when you do this, when you let him trance whilst resting on you without making a single fuss even though you have little to no intention of going to sleep yourself. He loves how you don’t mind carving out time for him amidst your busy schedule, you could always ignore him until you were done drinking but you always responded to his call, putting aside your own needs and wants for him. He knew he could ask anything of you and you would do it, without crossing the boundaries the both of you had set at the start of your relationship of course.

To him, you always had something better to do than attend to his petty whining but to you, he always came first and he still couldn’t fathom why. Maybe one day he would, perhaps if he sat you down and talked to you about it, he would understand, but that would be after The Absolute was defeated and the worms were removed. He was becoming more positive about the party’s prospects in a fight against The Absolute, although he preferred hiding such feelings.

As your fingers continue to work their magic in his hair, his thoughts drift to the many ways you’ve upended his life. You’ve shown him what it means to love, what it means to be genuine, what it means to care about others. You’ve added to his life, and changed things that were already in his life. You’d made it your whole mission to help him associate actions that once caused him pain and misery with something more pleasant, the only reason why he could slip into a trance whilst you ran your fingers through his hair. Back then, such an action always came with —

Cough.

Astarion groans, reaching up to poke your cheek, “I’m trying to trance here, love. A little peace and quiet would be nice.”

“Sorry,” you pout, giving him the puppy dog eyes he can never resist and he lets the matter slide, returning back to his thoughts and attempt to trance.

You’re always careful to not pull his hair, with knots always being gently untied either with your fingers or a comb should one be nearby. You’re also the only one he trusts to take care of his hair, whether it be washing or helping to maintain it.

He feels you rest your free hand on his waist, the warmth from your palm spreading through his cold undead body and feels the urge to slip into a trance wash over him once more. Knowing he is safe in your arms, for nothing will be able to hurt him when you’re around, he lets the urge take hold, readying himself for whatever nightmares could plague his rest.

That is if you didn’t sneeze right there and then.

Astarion clicks his tongue, refusing to even open his eyes and exclaims, “Gods, how am I supposed to trance in these conditions?”

He buries his face into your thighs, putting up a dramatic show of angrily muttering under his breath while you apologise, struggling to hold in your laughter.

“Come on Astarion. If you want to trance properly, you should’ve just told me to go to sleep!”

“But then you wouldn’t be able to do…this!” He gestures vaguely in the direction of your hand which is still buried beneath his white curls, letting out yet another huff.

“You’ll have to choose one then, Star. I can’t seem to do both.” There’s mirth in your voice and for a moment Astarion wonders if you’re just toying with him but then the look in your eyes reassures him and he lets out a sigh of resignation, sitting up so that you can get into a comfortable position to sleep.

“Fine. Sleep next to me, my love.” He wraps you in a cocoon made from his arms, nuzzling into your neck and feels his fangs press against your skin — the only barrier between him and your blood. Yet you don’t flinch, trusting that he will only bite after asking you for permission and snuggle against him under the covers.

“Stop spending so much time with them,” you hear him mumble. So that was why he was acting so weirdly all night.

“You have me all to yourself every night, don’t you worry.” You press a peck to the top of his head, tucking him tighter against your body.

“And you’ll have me for all eternity too.”

[lieutnt]

kinktober - #11

breeding kink & power imbalance w/ ftm!rodolfo parra x top!male reader kinktober masterlist

The other new members of Los Vaqueros don’t know him well enough yet to see that Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra has a favourite, but one look from Alejandro and he can tell who Rudy is paying extra attention to. He could see why - you showed excellent potential; you were patient, calm under fire and out of it, you got along well with the others and were as loyal as a dog, always following his or Rodolfo’s commands with little hesitation or question.

Alejandro thought nothing of it when you and Rudy began to spend more time together, he could see the progress as you began to hone your already established skills, often at the shooting range or in the gym with Rodolfo not far behind, ready to coach you into being a better version of yourself.

As far as you’re aware, he’s ignorant to the unique rewards Rodolfo offers you.

Rodolfo hadn’t intended it to happen - time spent together morphing into something else when he learned what you were like outside of being a soldier, letting his guard down as you earned your place within the Los Vaqueros ranks time and time again. It only had to happen that first time you tumbled into bed together for Rudy to know he was fucked - you had played his body like an instrument, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from his body until he was jelly-legged and covered in your cum, outside and inside, and he’d woken up the next morning albeit sore but refreshed, all built-up stressors knocked from his head. It was only a matter of time before it would happen again.

You hook his knees over your elbows, pushing him into a mating press that has you sinking deeper in his drooling cunt and ignoring the sting of pain as he rakes his nails down your back when your cock hits that spongy spot inside, kissing it with every thrust. Each time you draw out you push back in until your pelvis is flush against his, groaning as his soft walls flutter around your shaft.

“Tan bueno para mí, soldado,” he groans, head rolling back on his shoulders as your cock pulses inside him, hips snapping at a hungry pace.

He can feel the way his muscles slowly tighten, heat spreading under his skin as his orgasm approaches like a tidal wave, ready to swallow him under. He knows just the way to drag you down with him.

The quiet squelching of your thrusts is interrupted as his breath fans against the shell of your ear, “Gonna fill me up soldier?”

Your hips jerk and Rodolfo buries his smirk in your hair as you rhythmically pound into him, stars shooting behind his eyes as you angle yourself to knock against his sweet spot each time, giving him little reprieve as he cums, arousal gushing between your bodies and soaking your abdomen.

You don’t stop, fucking him through his orgasm and when you announce you’re close he’s wiggling his legs out of your hold and tightly wrapping them around your waist, keeping you pressed against him and leaving no choice where you cum. His eyes are rolling into the back of his head as you cum inside, filling him with thick, sticky cum that begins to spill from the seams, a white frothy ring forming where you’re connected.

His arms slither around your shoulders, pulling you to burrow into his neck as he kisses behind your ear, something soft, tender and he thinks that might be the end of it, your tired form slumping against him and panting into his shoulder, but after a few moments of waiting for your heartbeats to slow you draw back and grip his hips.

He grunts as you start moving again, fingers scrambling to hold onto you.

[1-800-be-my-baby]

JJ taking care of hypersensitive!reader by cradling her nd fingering her:(

wrote this half asleep, not proofread. MDNI 18+. sorry this took so long, hope you like it my love.

you were sitting at your vanity getting ready for your date with jj. you were blasting your favorite playlist, humming along to the music while applying your makeup. jj had finished getting ready a while ago and was now just sitting on your bed waiting for you.

you lean closer to the mirror, needing all your focus to go into your eyeliner. you turn to your boyfriend after finishing one eye.

“hey baby does my eyeliner look okay?”

“yes it looks perfect baby.” you hum in acknowledgment and then back to do the other eye. your good mood instantly turns sour when your hand slips and you mess up your eyeliner.

“ughhh!” you throw your eyeliner down and cover your face with your hands.

your boyfriend walks over to where you’re sitting. “baby what’s wrong? what happened.” the last bit of restraint you had in you snaps when you look up at him, his face full of worry. tears start streaming past your mascara clad eyelashes.

“what- hey why are you crying? talk to me?” jj squats down, holding your hands in his.

“i messed up my eyeliner.” you let out a sniffle, the tears still pouring down your face.

“it’s okay baby come here. we don’t have to go anywhere we can just stay here. yeah?” he lifts you into his arms carrying you into the bed. he places you into his lap, wiping your tears away. “let me help you feel better mama.” you nod your head, embarrassment slowly starting to gnaw at your insides.

he kisses your head, sliding one hand across your stomach under your shirt, and laying his other hand across your chest. your breath comes out as a small gasp when he begins rubbing his pinky up and down your stomach, slowly coming in contact with the waistband of your shorts.

“shhhh, just relaxxxx mama. i got you.” he leans his head down, placing small kisses on your neck, your eyes slowly closing.

he slips his fingers past the band of your shorts, not moving them any further. you let out a small impatient whine as your hips slightly buck up, needing friction. jj lets out a chuckle underneath his breath, sensing your desperation he finally makes contact with your pulsing cunt.

a sigh of relief expels from your lips when he finally drags his fingers through your sticky folds. “always so wet for me.”

“mhm” is the only response you can give, nuzzling your head underneath jj’s chin.

you let out quiet whimpers as he drags small circles across your clit. “wanna take these shorts off for me?” you nod, your hands shooting to your shorts, eagerly sliding them off.

he hooks his arm under your knees, bringing them to your chest. before you can question what he’s doing, his fingers are back on your glistening pussy. he slides a finger inside you, slowly pumping in and out. you let out a moan, eyes already filling with tears. he adds another finger, moving faster. your hips jerk as you let out a loud cry.

“does that feel good pretty girl?”

“mhm. really good.” his fingers curl inside you, the burning sensation in your tummy slowly intensifying. the only noises filling the room right now is your whimpers and the squelching of your pussy.

your nails dig into his thigh when his palm perfectly hits your clit with each thrust. “i love you so much. you’re so beautiful.” jj murmurs into your hair, causing you to clench around his fingers. “loveyoutoo” your breath hitches in your throat, your release getting closer and closer.

“you gonna cum for me baby?”

“yes!” you let out a loud squeal as his pace increases. “i’m gonna-” your release gushes out of you before you can even finish warning him.

“thereeeee you go. that’s it.” he helps you ride out your high, before slowly removing his fingers from your now sensitive cunt. you turn around, giving jj a long kiss, doing your best at pouring as much love into it as you possibly can.

you place a series of kisses on his lips before laying your head on his chest. “thank you jj.”

“you’re welcome pretty girl. now let’s go take off that makeup while i order us food. then we can watch a movie. how does that sound?” he runs his hand through your hair.

“okay” you hum out, getting up and making your way to the bathroom. jj’s heart swells with love, grateful he gets to call you his.

[littlelambscandyland]

Something New (1/2)

Yandere Beetlebabes x Little!Reader

Warnings- Yandere behavior, Implied kidnapping, Lydia and Beetlejuice are married, Implied forced relationship (them to reader), Angry Beetlejuice, Scared reader, Age regression (obvi)

Notes- I watched Beetlejuice Beetlejuice and decided I want both of them to both adopt and date me, so here's a story of yandere beetlebabes finding out reader regresses.

It was terrifying and you couldn't help but cry. The monster morphing and shifting into pure nightmares.

"Heyya, what's with all this show? You normally laugh at this stuff." Beetlejuice says as he snaps the beast out of existence.

Your mind was much too small to comprehend the lack of danger from your captor. The sobs racked your body and you shook trying to pull the covers over yourself.

"So what you're just gonna be a brat today? Is that it?" He asked, getting angry.

Your breathing increased and though your mind was small you wanted to prove it wasn't him that was the problem, or at least not him physically. In between the lumps of tears you reached your arms out to him. They didn't make it too far out of the blanket before you simply squeezed your hands hoping he received your message.

He seemed skeptical. Here you were sobbing into the pillow, and yet you were beckoning him closer. Hands making a grabbing motion at him. What the hell were you up to?

Beetlejuice however did oblige. Sitting on the bed he stares before laying down on his side. He's confused when you bury your face in his suit. You cling to him desperately and he isn't sure what to do.

Normally when you get upset you try to send him away. Of course it normally just leads to a punishment, so maybe you'd just finally learned your lesson? No that couldn't be it. You were too stubborn, too hard headed, to give in like this. You seemed so much more fragile than before.

"Hey uhh, sweetheart, you still in there?" He asks when he notices you've stopped crying.

His gravel voice rattles you for a moment. You'd slipped so quickly since the moment you woke to the horrific face. Your sense of danger is long gone as your younger mind feels safe with his arms wrapped around your waist.

"Answer me." Beetlejuice commands evenly, he wasn't liking any of this.

His only response was a mumble of vowels. A bunch of noises that made very little sense.

Your finger traces one of the lines on his suit. Your mind is practically empty and you start to hum to yourself. All you truly knew was how comfortable you felt.

Suddenly he's gone. You shoot up in your bed and look around frantically. Sharp breaths come from your lungs and suddenly your tears are back, but so is he.

Beetlejuice looks at you with confusion and anger before he blows up. He paces around the room and yells. He jumps and he squats in front of you. He looks like a football player the position he ends in.

You simply watch with tears streaming down your face. You try to apologize for upsetting him. Your mind recognizes his distress and wants to help him help you, but the mumbles do little to get your point across. Even if you weren't all aware what point it was.

Once again he poofs out. The exit leaves you on edge. The loneliness creeps in on you quickly.

Within a few minutes Lydia enters the room. She notices you shaking under the covers, and despite Beetlejuice's story she wonders if he didn't do more to you.

Her hand comes down onto your shoulder slowly. She rubs soft circles with her fingers. From what Beetlejuice claims, you're having a hard day. As ready as she was to tame your anger she didn't want to start a fight.

"What happened, love?" She asks you calmly.

You didn't crawl out from the blankets. Instead you keep the warmth and sob at her from beneath them.

"Honey, I can't understand you." She says furrowing her brows. "I'm going to take off the blanket, alright?"

Your teary eyes meet her concerned ones, and she wonders what was going on with you. You had your moments and she understood that. Her and Beetlejuice uprooted your life and forced you into their world and their marriage. With all that, however, you'd never acted like this before.

You let her move you up, and the second she did you latched onto her like she was your life force. Your jumbled speech made no sense, then again when she thought about it... You were kind of acting like a young child.

"Beetlejuice!" She called out to him. The noise making you flinch slightly, burying yourself deeper into her arms.

"Yup." He responds appearing immediately.

"Where's the phone?" Lydia asks.

"Right here." He presents it proudly to her. "Ya find out what's wrong with 'er?" He questions back.

She doesn't answer him for a moment till her eyes light up and she hands the phone back to him on a new screen.

"What the hell does this mean?" He questions her again.

She looks at him incredulously before turning her attention to you who has taken to chewing on her shirts button.

"Baby," She cooes. Your eyes brighten slightly. "Hold up your fingers." You obey. "Can you hold up how many years old you are?" She asks.

It takes you a minute. Trying to capture the concepts of numbers, counting the amount. Finally you hold a few fingers, truly you had no idea if that was true but it felt like the right amount to you.

Lydia smiles. "Age regression."

"Yup, that's what the phone says." Beetlejuice agrees.

She rolls her eyes at him. She moves you away from her chest and bounces you a bit in her lap.

"That's what's going on with you, hmm? You are just too little to do much else." She leaves a kiss on your nose when you shy away.

"Hmm," Beetlejuice hums. "So what I'm hearing is I get the chance to be a real daddy!" He exclaims excitedly.

Lydia simply nods at his response and makes room on the bed for him to sit.

"Guess I should apologize for gettin all angry huh pumpkin?" He asks you with a pout.

Lydia allows him to take you from her arms. The lovestruck look never leaving her eyes.

Beetlejuice bows his head dramatically before saying, "I hope you can forgive me for my, uhhh, indiscretions."

The action causes you to giggle a bit as you don't quite understand what he's doing but the face he made was funny

Lydia smiles a bit. "I don't think she has a single clue what you're trying to do.'

He swaps his head between the two of you quickly. "Well damn."

[no1deepspacehater]

Too Hot To Handle (Xavier/Reader)

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Fem Reader

Posted on AO3!

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"I'm serious!" You begin to laugh a little, too, running your hands back down his chest to his stomach.

"I know you are," Xavier smiles. "I just think you're sexier."

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 Sometimes, your boyfriend forgets just how sexy he is.

 No, it's more like he doesn't know how much you want him sometimes.

 Laying in bed, you watch him dry his hair in the bathroom. Clad in only grey sweatpants (such a sluttish choice, he must be doing this on purpose), you watch him shyly under the covers. His body was heavenly, strong arm muscles flexing as he moved the towel over his face. You had a clear view of his torso as he reached up to get the back of his neck, abs still slightly wet from his shower.

 And his V line, GOD! You clenched your legs together as you raked your eyes over him again and again, letting your eyes follow the light, happy trail to those god-forsaken sweatpants, which did nothing to hide the outline of his dick. Why was he so attractive?

 "Why are you staring at me like that?" You're snapped out of your daze. Xavier's locked eyes with you, giving you a half smile. So innocent. By now, you could tell when he was looking at you with 0% lust and 100% love (a rare occurrence), and that was right now as he finished up in the bathroom and walked towards you. "Did I take too long in the shower?"

 "No…" You mumbled out, brows furrowing in frustration. Why wasn't he fucking you right now?

 His gaze turned concerned. You shuffled over to let him sit next to you, leaning on your side and giving him a frown. He placed a hand on your cheek, gently thumbing it.

 "Then what's the matter, bunny?" He whispered low.

 That tipped the scale for you. "I want you." You say it shyly and immediately feel dumb. As if he hasn't made you moan more obscene things as he literally beat his cock into you. But he knows what you mean, and right now, the level of lust behind his eyes was at a good 500%, give or take.

 "Is that why you were staring at me so hard?" He chuckled, and you nearly cum right there and then. He leans down to press a deep kiss on your lips, the scent of his shampoo wafting over you as well. He pulls away, going to grab a pack of condoms from the drawer of the nightstand (ultra-thin, EXTRA LARGE) and a tube of lube. "Why didn't you just start with that?"

 You don't answer as he moves onto the bed, shifting the sheets off of you and settling between your legs. You run your hands up his sculpted chest, fingers lightly ghosting over his collarbones, to snaking to each side of his neck. Your thumb lightly presses over his Adam's apple before you're interrupted by a hand grabbing yours.

 Xavier pressed your hand over his cheeks, pulling it over his lips to press light kisses to your palm. "Feeling shy tonight?" He teases, azure eyes filled with mirth.

 Warmth spread through your fast as you looked away again, but you nodded. "You're just really sexy." You know you shouldn't be, but you're embarrassed at how embarrassed you are in front of him right now. He really makes you horny by just standing there.

 You hear Xavier laugh and shoot him a look, which he instantly wipes off by pressing his lips to yours again. You could feel him smiling through the kiss and push him back slightly.

 "I'm serious!" You begin to laugh a little, too, running your hands back down his chest to his stomach, stopping at the cloth of his pants.

 "I know you are," Xavier smiles. "I just think you're sexier." His hand run up your abdomen to under your breast. He softly grasps them, running his thumbs over the hardening nipples through your bralette. "All the time, really, but especially when you're like this."

 He grips one of your thighs, pulling it up to get closer to you. He leans in again, this time going after your neck to press deep kisses against your pulse. "Want me to prove it?" You gasp as he pushes against you, his hard length pressing directly into your core through the clothed shorts.

 "Already?" You tease, feeling a slight confidence boost.

 Xavier pulls away, moving to pull your bralette up and off you. "That's all you, beautiful."

 As soon as you rid yourself of the bralette, Xavier's hand returns to your breast. You shiver as he pinches both nipples, and Xavier sighs in delight. His hips rolled against yours instinctively, making you whine his name.

 "If you keep calling me like that…" Xavier groans out. He grabs the top of your shorts quickly, pushing them down with urgency. Like himself, you didn't have any underwear on. The shorts were still too much in the way, so Xavier got to work quickly, pulling your left leg over to your right so he could slide them off completely.

 He stops for a second to admire your naked form below him, grinding his dick into your ass. "Being shy around me, when you look like this?"  He whispers, sliding his hand over the swell of your ass.

 You whine again, grinding against him. "Xavier…" you groan impatiently. A sharp smack against your ass made you yelp.

 Xavier smiled down at you, as gently as ever, as he rubbed the stinging spot on your ass. "Use your words, bunny." He chides.

 "Please Xav, fuck me good, please."  You moan out, gripping your own tits for some sort of stimulation.

 He starts to pull his sweats down, very quickly at that. "Spread open for me baby, I'll be right there."

 You do as you're told, laying on your back and hooking your arms under your knees, bringing them all the way up to your chest. His eyes are on you, on full display, as yours is on his as you watch his dick spring free. His tip red and leaking sweat pre-cum already. You snake a hand down to your wet hole, dipping a finger in and dragging it over your clit.

 Xavier fumbled with the condom, having to pry himself from watching you pleasure yourself to put it on correctly. He grabs the lube, coating his fingers in it. He draws closer to you, coating his dick in lube as well.

  "Such a good girl, Gods, you drive me crazy." He murmured as he pushed his still slick fingers into you, drawing moans from you as he rubbed your insides. He pulls his hand out, moving to press your legs back further.

 He slides his dick in with ease, and you immediately arch your back at the pleasure of him filling you up. You grab at his shoulders for stability, moaning loudly. Xavier hums in pleasure as he bottoms out, immediately pulling back out and starting a steady pace into you.

 His lips find yours again, the kiss being a sloppy mix of tongue and saliva, the both of you moaning in pleasure as he hits deeper and deeper into you. Sweet nothings fall out of your mouth for him.

How good he's filling you up, how good his dick feels inside you, and how fucking good he looks while doing it; it all riles Xavier up more, and now he's slamming into you at an unrestrained pace.

 Streaks of hot pleasure spread through your entire body, making your toes curl, and your entire body shake and clench. You didn't even have time to let Xavier know until your orgasm had your body jolting repeatedly, your hands gripping his lean shoulders so hard your knuckles ache, and you swear you've bruised him.

 Even if he didn't see the stunning sight of your orgasm, he could for sure feel it. You grasped around him so tightly it made his pace stutter. He placed a hand on your cheek, making you look at him as he came as well, voice letting out shaky moans as his dick twitched inside of you.

 It took you both a good minute to catch your breaths, reveling in each other's afterglow.

 Xavier gently pulled himself out as he massaged your legs. He leaned in for one last kiss before leaving the bed to discard the filled condom and returned back with wipes and a towel. Before he could get to work cleaning you up, you sat up and pulled him down in a bear hug.

 "I love you Xav, like, a lot." You smiled at him, rubbing his arm where crescents rose up.

 His smile, in return, was as radiant as himself. "I love you too. Now let's get cleaned up, I'm in the mood for cuddles… and sleep."

[sagethegaywitch]

Dimensions: Scarabia

Male reader

TW: yandere behavior, memory erasing, hypnosis

Genre: yandere

Here's the link for my other Dimensions: Twisted Wonderland Overblots works.

The story will take place in Agrabah, the one from the original “Aladdin” that the Scarabia dorm is based on.  As the overblot eats away at the characters, they start to resemble and act more like the Disney characters they are based on.  The reader will be called Y/N and Jasmine, and they will be one of Kalim’s brothers.  Kalim will not be under Jamil’s control, but he will be influenced to make certain decisions via Jamil's unique magic.

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You feel the heat first, it's hot and uncomfortable on your skin.  You groan and roll over on your side, trying to expose less skin to the horrible sun beaming down on you.  You attempt to open your eyes, but the sun and sand cause you to close them in pain.  You only sigh in relief when you hear a voice calling out to you and a cool towel is placed on your head.  You briefly open your eyes to see a dark haired male frantically tapping your cheek to get your attention and calling out the name “Jasmine” before you pass out.

~

When you awaken again, you feel much cooler and comfortable.  You can open your eyes without any pain, and you open them to see a lavishly decorated bedroom and you're laying on a satin bed.  The cool materials of the covers keep your body temperature down even though the large arches windows in your room are barely covered with silk drapes.  You sit up and continue to look around the room, noticing a decorated vanity and dresser in one corner and a pile of soft pillows in the other corner.  You hesitantly push the covers aside and stand up, your finger brushing over your outfit.  You look down to see only red.  Rushing over to the vanity mirror, you get a good look at your clothing.  From red harem pants to just a silk scarf that barely hides your chest, you're also covered in golden jewelry that feels much too heavy in your limbs.  You can only stare at your own shocked expression before pinching yourself to ensure that this was all real.  But, how did you even get here?  You try to think back to your last memory, but you can only remember hot sand and someone rescuing you.  As you try to look deeper, a searing pain shoots through your head, preventing you from figuring out your past.

A sudden knock at your door as you snapping out our self-discovery as the doors open.

“Jasmine?  Are you awake?” a voice asks as you see a white-hairrd male walk in.

He's dressed as elegantly as you are, covered in white silk, golden jewelry, and shiny gems.  When he sees you standing near the vanity, he squeals and runs up to you, embracing you in a tight hug.

“You're awake!  You're awake!” he chants in glee as he jumps up and down with you still in his arms.  “Just wait until Jamil hears about this?”

“Who's Jamil?” you ask as he finally stops bouncing around.

“That would be me,” another voice says as yet another figure walks into the room.

Unlike the other, this boy is dressed in darker clothing, mostly black and dark red, that flows like a dress.  Along with his glowing red left eye, he has black snakes that appear to be his hair that wrap around his shoulders and arms (Jamil is wearing his overblot outfit).  He holds a golden scepter that has a cobra head on top with glowing red gems for eyes.

“I’m glad you're feeling better, Jasmine.  But, do tell me why you were outside the palace gates in a sandstorm?” Jamil asks you, sounding like a predator that finally managed to corner its prey.

“Jasmine?” you ask.  “I don't think my name’s Jasmine.”

The white-haired boy lets out a loud gasp, startling you a bit as he brings you back into a hug, “Jamil, you must do something!  Poor Jasmine lost all of his memories!”

Jamil’s straight face soon morphs into one of relief and almost delight as he registers you've lost your memories.

“Well, it could be an after effect of the heat stroke you just endured, but it should pass in a few days.  I hope you've learned a valuable lesson from this,” Jamil tells you, giving you a pointed look.

You don't really like the vibes coming off this man as he looks at you expectantly.  You just nod and tell him you won't go wandering around by yourself anymore.

“Wonderful,” Jamil says as he turns around and starts to leave.  “I have some business to attend to, but Kalim you can show your brother around if you’d like.”

Kalim’s smile grows impossibly bigger as his eyes shine and he grabs your hand and starts dragging you out of the room, “There's so much I need to show you again.  Until you get your memory back, I'm going to show you all of our favorite spots and all the games we used to play.”

He leads you all around the place, up and down dozens of golden stairs and past a million rooms that it makes your head dizzy.  From rooms filled with treasures to a room filled with swords that Kalim reassured you won't be needed, he gives you a tour of his entire very large house.  In one room filled with golden jewelry, Kalim plucks a golden tiara that has an engraving of Taj Mahal-shaped buildings in the background and a viper in the front.

“You need a crown,” was all Kalim said even though you tried to refuse the gift.

You reluctantly let him place it on your head, the weight being uncomfortable for a bit, but it was super light and you soon forgot that it was even on your head.

Dragging you out of the room as quickly as he dragged you into it, Kalim took no more pauses as he continued the very thorough tour.  Finally, when you're panting and sweaty from all that unnecessary exercise, Kalim flopped you both down in a room filled with carpets.

“Wasn't that so much fun!” Kalim exclaims, still somehow full of energy and not tired at all.

“Yeah, your mansion is so cool,” you wheeze out as you catch your breath, laying down and looking up at the ceiling decorated with tiny tiles.

Kalim pauses and looks at you sadly, “You mean our mansion, Jasmine.  As my younger brother, this is your home as much as it is mine.”

“Younger brother?” you question as you sit up and turn towards Kalim.

“It must be the memory loss, I hope Jamil is working on something to fix that,” Kalim tells you as he gives you a head pat.  “I’m so sad you don’t remember anything.”

“I’m sure I will someday,” you try to reassure the saddened male who is apparently your brother even though you two don’t look very alike.

As you pat his back, you feel something tickle your wrist.  You swat at it without looking down, thinking it’s just a fly.  But when it persists, you glance down annoyed, only to see the decorative fringe on the carpet you both are sitting on moving by itself.  You let out a startled yelp that has Kalim bolting up and picking you up bridal style.

“What is it!  Did you see a spider!” he yells, sounding just as scared as you felt.

“No!  The carpet moved!” you exclaim while pointing at the carpet that stands up and dusts itself off, looking quite offended at your words.

Instead of running away, Kalim just breaks down laughing.  He has to put you down to hold his knees from the force that his laughter tumbles out of his mouth.  You give him a questioning look as he wipes tears from the corners of his eyes.

“Jasmine, you’re so silly!  That’s just my magic carpet,” Kalim chuckles as the carpet “walks” over and holds its "hand" out for you to shake.

You hesitantly grip the golden tassel and give it a gentle shake, which causes the carpet to get excited as it “claps” and flats itself before swooping down and knocking you both off of you feet and onto its back.  You let out a gasp as it starts to hover above the floor, but Kalim seems very comfortable as he helps you sit up and grabs the front tassels, starting to steer the carpet toward the curtained windows.

“Just loop your arms around my waist, so you don’t fall off,” Kalim instructs you as you quickly comply.

“Are you sure this is safe?” you question as the carpet breezes past the curtains and into the open sky.

“Of course!  I do this all the time!” Kalim responds, vibrating with excitement, happy that he gets to show you something he loves.

Kalim presses the tassels down, causing the carpet to enter a sharp dive.  You let out a scream of surprise, your grip tightening on Kalim’s waist as he laughs and evens out the carpet’s path.  For the rest of the ride, Kalim tried to keep the carpet pretty even and steady, only going into a few short dives when he got bored.  He showed you all of the sights of Agrabah from a bird's eye view.  You were amazed by the view and all the twisty streets that lay outside the neat corridors of the palace.  Kalim wouldn’t allow the carpet to land so you could check out the vendors, telling you that you’d have to ask Jamil if you ever wanted to leave the palace walls.

“It’s not safe for us out there, considering we’re the royals and all,” Kalim tells you, not missing the way you deflated a bit at the news.  “Oh, don’t be sad though!  If you want anything we probably already have inside the palace.”

“It’s okay, I just wanted to get a closer look at the stalls,” you reassure him, trying to distract him from the disagreement.

Kalim tried to cheer you up by flying over a huge lake, getting close enough to splash water on you.  You let out a giggle as you return the favor and splash water all over his face.  The water fight would have continued if the carpet didn’t pull away from the lake, preferring not to get wet and have to dry itself later.  As the sun began to set, Kalim pulled you to sit next to him to watch the beautiful colors start a fire in the sky.  The carpet hovered near the window that you two left through, just allowing you guys to appreciate the view.  Kalim lets one of his arms wrap around your shoulder in a half-hug and lets you lean your head on his shoulder.  You both get startled when a sudden voice shatters the quiet atmosphere.

“Just what do you two think you’re doing?”  Jamil’s voice speaks.

You look over the window to see the curtains now pushed back to reveal an unhappy looking Jamil with crossed arms over his chest.

“Jamil!  We were just about to return,” Kalim explains, but you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Do you know how worried I was!  You left without telling anyone.  I had to organize all the carpets just to find yours missing,” Jamil states, pointing to the neatly stacked carpets behind him.  “It’s getting late, you both should come inside now.”

Jamil moved back to give the carpet some move to land at his feet.  Kalim sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as Jamil glares down at him.

“We’re sorry, Jamil,” you meekly apologize.

Jamil just sighs, “It’s okay.  Next time just let someone know.”

“Of course!  Sorry for causing you trouble, Jamil,” Kalim adds as Jamil gives him a disappointed look.

“It’s dinner time, so we should be heading to the dining hall now,” Jamil reminds as he starts to walk toward the door.

You quickly thank the carpet for the ride before following Jamil, Kalim walking besides you.  You try to remember where the dining hall is based on the tour Kalim gave you earlier, but you still have a hard time remembering all of the turns you took to get there.  Once in the dining room, which is a long room with an equally long table in the middle, you are forced to take a seat on a soft pillow next to Jamil, who sits at the head of the table.  Kamil sits across from you, on Jamil’s right side, and gives you a bright smile as servants start to bring in towers of food.  The walls are covered in open windows, which allows a pleasant breeze to flow through the room and lets you watch the sun finish setting.  While you’re distracted with the windows, Jamil has started to pile your plate up with food.  You turn back to see your plate filled with delicious curries and spiced vegetables.

“Dig in, Jasmine!  Jamil makes the best food,” Kalim tells you, already taking big bites of his food.

“You made this?” you ask as you scoop up some of the curry, placing the spoon in your mouth.

“Yes, do you like it?” Jamil asks, looking at you nervously, like he’s afraid to disappoint you.

Complex flavors invade your mouth, with just enough spice to feel it but not too much where it is overwhelming.  You smile and take another bite before giving Jamil a double thumbs-up, which causes him to smile and relax a bit.  As dinner continues, Kalim and Jamil discuss some royal stuff, like guard positioning and recent sandstorms in the area.  You block out their conversation as you enter your thoughts.  It’s so amazing that this is your life.  From home-cooked meals to carpet rides, it’s such a shame you’ve forgotten it all.

“Jasmine?” Kalim’s voice startles you as you blink and redirect your attention to the two males.

“Sorry, just zoned out,” you apologize as you quickly finish the food on your plate.

“You must be so tired after a full day of activities,” Jamil concludes as he stands.  “You should probably head to bed.”

You nod, suddenly feeling a bit sleepy, as you follow Jamil and stand up as well.  The three of you walk back into the hallway and you don’t bother to remember the route you take, just thinking about the soft bed you’re about to sleep in.  You soon realize that Kalim’s room is right next to your room as he starts to open the door next to your room and disappears inside after giving you a tight hug and whispering a “good night”.

You turn around to see Jamil holding your door open and you thank him as you enter.

“Just holler if you need anything, my room is just down the hall.  Sweet dreams,” Jamil tells you before he turns to leave.

He’s startled when you suddenly hug him from behind, “Thank you, Jamil.  I hope I regain my memories soon.”

Jamil stiffens at the words, but he just gives you a head pat before leaving you alone in your big room.  You walk over to the huge bed, flopping onto the soft mattress.  You curl up with a cozy blankets and slowly fall asleep.

~

In the morning, you awaken to the sounds of arguing.  You try to ignore it and fall back asleep, but the voices get progressively louder to the point where you groan in annoyance and stand up.  You quietly open your door to see who’s making such a fuss this earlier in the morning, but you find no one in the hallway.  You note that the voices are coming from Kalim’s room, and his door cracked open a bit.  You’re not usually an eavesdropper, but they seemed to be talking about you.  You crouch behind the door, peeking inside the crack.

“But I want to take him on another carpet ride,” Kalim whines.

“You had him all of yesterday though,” Jamil complains.  “It’s only fair if I get to take him out today.”

“Why don’t we do it together?” Kalim tries to compromise, but Jamil is having none of it.

Jamil sighs before looking down at Kalim, “You will leave Jasmine and me alone for the whole day.  You will stay in your room and work on some paperwork until it is dinner time.”

Because his back is turned toward you, you can’t tell what Jamil is doing to Kalim, but Kalim’s eyes start to glow a dull red before he slowly nods along to Jamil’s words.  Jamil gives another deep sigh before starting to turn around.  You quickly stand up and hurry back into your room, jumping under the safety of the covers.  You can hear Jamil close Kalim’s door and open yours.  You quickly fall limp and pretend to be asleep as Jamil’s footsteps get closer to your bed.

“Jasmine, it’s time to wake up,” Jamil murmurs in a soothing voice as he gently shakes your shoulder.

You fake a groan and act like you just woke up, groggily rubbing your eyes and yawning.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Jamil smiles at you as you fake another yawn for good measure.

“Good morning.  What do we have planned today?” you ask as you climb out of bed and begin to fold the blankets.

“Kalim told me you were interested in exploring the town yesterday, so I thought it would be fun to take you out today,” Jamil speaks as he stands up and heads to the door.  “I don’t have breakfast prepared yet so we can get something to eat out there.”

“Sounds like a great idea!  I can’t wait!” you cheer as you follow Jamil out of your room and into the hallway.

“You’ll need a disguise though because you’re a member of the royal family.  We can’t have people recognizing you,” Jamil ponders before walking back into your room and rummages around in the dresser.

He returns with a brown cloak that he drapes over you and wraps the scarf-like hood over your head and lower face.

“Perfect,” he nods to himself before offering you his arm.

You loop your arm through his and you both walk towards the palace doors that will lead to the outside world.  You lean a little closer towards Jamil as he opens the gates that lead to the busy market.  You’re assaulted with loud noises and intense scents as you walk further into the crowd.  Although the streets are busy, the people part and give you two a clear path when they see Jamil.  You still hang pretty close to Jamil, but you get distracted by a few stalls that have very enticing food selections.  Seeing your interest, Jamil quickly purchases the food items before you get the chance to protest.  Not wanting to waste anymore money, you try not to gaze too long at the other stalls that sell silks and jewelry, even though the salesman and saleswoman tried to persuade you into buying their products.

Jamil stayed by your side the entire time, only straying to this shady looking stall near the end of your journey.  He speaks with the man at the booth while you linger nearby, but you become alarmed when you hear a small voice.

“Let me go!” a voice exclaims followed by a rattling sound.

You look over at Jamil and see him still talking to the salesman, not seeming to hear the commotion.  You turn around to see a covered birdcage rustling around in the corner.  You hesitantly crouch down and grab the edge of the cloth and slowly lift it up.  You see a gray cat-like thing with fiery blue flames in his ears that looks up at you with a glare which quickly melts into a smile.

“Human!  It’s you!” the creature exclaims as he rushes over to grip the bars of his cage.  “You have to free me, we need to leave.”

“Leave? But it’s so nice here,” you reply before shaking your head.  “Who even are you?  How do you know me?”

“Don’t tell me Jamil used Snake Charmer on you,” the cat looks upset.

“Snake Charmer?  Is that what he used on Kalim earlier?” you think to yourself before addressing the cat again.  “No, Jamil and Kalim have been taking good care of me.  Sorry, but I don’t know you.”

You’re about to drop the cloth again and retreat to Jamil, but the cat calls out for you, “Y/N, wait!”

You pause your motions.  You remain kneeling as you feel a rush of memories flood back into your head.  You remember Night Raven College, the overblots, jumping through the Scarabia mirror, and Grim.  This is not some fairytale life, it's all an illusion.

“Grim…I remember now,” you start slowly, just trying to process the information.

“Great!  Now let me out!” Grim prompts as you reach down to unclasp the lock on the birdcage.

Grim steps out and you close the door and place the sheet back on top of it.  Shaking himself of the dirt that had layered on his fur, Grim gives you a big smile that shows off his sharp teeth.

“Thanks, human.  Now let’s get out of here!” Grim suggests.

You’re about to follow him but Jamil stops you.

“Jasmine?  Where do you think you’re going?” Jamil asks as he places a hand on your shoulder to prevent you from running off.

Thinking quickly you come up with a believable excuse, “Oh, I just saw a stray dog and wanted to pet it.”

“That’s cute, but you shouldn’t go running off without my supervision,” Jamil lightly scolds before hooking his arm in yours.  “We should be heading back soon anyways.”

You just nod and spare a quick glance behind you to see Grim watching from a dark corner before disappearing.  Hopefully he’ll come back for you.

Once you arrive at the palace again, you’re surprised to not see Kalim anywhere, then you remember that Jamil used Snake Charmer on him in the morning.  Instead of leading you back toward your room. Jamil starts to take you down an unfamiliar hallway, but he is quickly stopped by a guard who says that his presence was requested.  Jamil curses silently before giving you an apologetic glance.

“I’m sorry our time got cut short, but duty calls,” Jalim tells you before following the guard.

You’re left alone in the hallway and you promptly walk back to your room when Jalim disappears down another hallway.  The door to Kalim’s door is open, but the white-haired boy is not inside his room.  Maybe he was needed in the meeting too, he is royalty after all.  This is perfect actually, now you can plan your great escape.  You enter your room and close the door, but you’re shocked to see that it doesn’t have a lock on it.  Instead, you have to shove your blanket under the door in the little slot so that the door would get jammed if someone tried to open it.  You quickly rummage around in the room, looking for a bag to place some necessities in.  You find a small sachet in the dresser and place a few extra cloaks inside for emergencies and a few sharp objects that you found on the vanity that you could potentially use as weapons.  You glance at yourself in the mirror very quickly, and you can see that your disguise looks too clean.  You need to roughen it a bit to actually blend in with the crowd so that you’ll be harder to find.  You rip the fabric in some places and add some makeup to create stains along with taking off all of your golden jewelry and the tiara.  Feeling very pleased with your work you attempt to sneak back out into the hallway.  Luckily for you, no one seems too interested in your presence.  Of course you get a few weird glances from guards and servants when they see what you’re wearing, but none of them give you a hard time about it or try to stop you.  You make it safely to the main doors, and you quickly slip through and back into the busy streets.  It’s around lunch time, so the vendors are busy with the lunch rush and the area is especially crowded as lines start to form.

This time you don’t have Jamil to magically part the crowd, but you make do as you shove and elbow your way through, just trying to put some distance between you and the palace.  You eventually make it back to the area where you freed Grim and you find the creature waiting for you there.

“You waited for me,” you smile, grateful to have a friend through all this.

“Of course I did.  I couldn’t leave my hench-human here,” Grim offers you another toothy grin.  “Now let's get out of here.”

It has only been around 30 minutes since you’ve escaped and now you’ve noticed a bunch of guards running around and asking villagers if they’ve seen you.  You pull up the hood of the cloak to conceal your identity and tuck Grim into your cloak as well just in case anyone questioned the cat’s odd appearance.  At this point, you’re just desperately trying to get further away from the palace and avoid the guards who travel in groups of four.  You made some good progress and Grim even gave you some directions toward the exit, but one wrong turn down a dark alleyway has you bumping into a taller figure.

You lose your balance for a second and don’t bother glancing up before just trying to make a run in the other direction.  You only get a few steps in when you realize you’re surrounded by guards, all of their swords raised threateningly at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice growls.

You know it’s Jamil so you turn to face him.  Should you try to play innocent or should you just tell the truth?

“Don’t bother lying to me.  It’s almost evening and most of the stores have closed.  You have no reason to be out,” Jamil seethes, his eyes glaring down at you.

No purpose to lie now, so now you have to convince Jamil to just let you go, “Jamil, please.  We need to stop the mass overblots.  I can help you and everything will go back to normal.”

“But what if I don’t want that, I like it here.  I have control over Kalim and I have endless power,” Jamil tells you, a smile now crawling onto his lips.

“But this isn’t right!  We need to save the school!” you exclaim, trying to reason with his more logical side.

Instead of responding, Jamil just leans down to your eye level and looks directly into your eyes, “You will forget that this incident ever happened.  You will forget everything about your past: your old name, your old life, your old friends, and our old school.”

You know you shouldn’t be listening to his words and that he’s using his unique magic on you, but they just seem so comforting and alluring.

“Snap out of it Y/N!  He’s trying to trick you!” Grim voice seems very distant as you vaguely register soft paws trying to slap you awake.

“I was wondering when you would reappear, you pest,” Jamil’s voice says before Grim is plucked off your shoulder.

You can feel distress at the loss of your companion, but you don’t feel like going to save him.  It would just be better if you forgot everything.  You could live a wonderful life here with Kalim and Jamil.  A vague part of yourself protests and fights against the magic, but eventually you just mentally tire yourself out and slump to the floor.

~

When you awake, you’re met with a splitting headache.  You wince as you slowly sit up, rubbing at your temples.

“Don’t move too quickly, you’ll hurt yourself,” Kalim’s voice says in your ear.

You whip around to face him, causing your pain to spike a bit.  He looks very concerned and has a cool towel in his hand that he was probably using it to keep you cool.

“”What happened?” you ask as Kalim hands you a cup of water.

“You collapsed after our journey into the village from heat stroke, you should really be more careful,” Jamil’s voice responds.

“Oh,” you murmur as you finish the water.

“Don’t worry, you’re probably just very prone to overheating,” Kalim reassures as he pats your back.  “Maybe we should limit your time outside.  It’s not very healthy if you keep fainting.”

You just nod, understanding the situation and that this is just the best for you and your health.  Kalim just continues to reassure you while Jamil rummages inside one of the pockets, looking for something.

“You dropped this when you fainted.  What is a prince without his crown?” Jamil places your tiara back onto your head.

The weight now feels comfortable and you smile up at the two males, “Thanks.”

“Anything for you, our diamond in the rough.”

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 2

Collage by me :)

Masterlist

Pt. 1

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Smut, swearing, smoking, teasing, fingering, choking, oral sex, unprotected sex, squirting, praise/degradation

Word Count: 6.6k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 2: Take My Breath Away

Saturday, March 11th, 1989

As you begin to stir from sleep after your late night with Eddie, you hear multiple voices in your room. They're overlapping each other, arguing in whispers. You think you might still be dreaming, until you hear Dustin beckon you into the new day. "Hey, lovebirds! Time to get up!" He shouts excitedly. Your eyes snap open, and you shoot up in bed. You see the entire Hellfire Club standing in front of your bed, smiling smugly at you. You don't say a word, but your mouth sits wide open. Eddie hasn't woken up just yet, groaning at the loss of you from his arms. He claws for you, before realizing you're sitting up next to him. Your gaze is facing forward, he thinks you might be having a bad dream or something. He looks at you curiously, shaking your arm to get your attention.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks, oblivious to the others. You flick your eyes to his, nudging your head to suggest he should look up. He lifts his head and immediately starts turning red as a tomato. His eyes go wide, and he tries to form words. Maybe to yell at them to get out, call them out for being perverts, something. But his efforts bear no fruit.

"So...it sounds like you two had fun last night." Lucas says, wagging his eyebrows. The others giggle like the children they are.

"Yeah, you weren't exactly discreet. All we could hear was 'oh, Eddie!' and 'oh, Y/N!'. You guys sure do make a lot of noise." James teases, causing everyone else to laugh. You turn to Eddie, giving him a look that says 'do you believe this shit?'. He just shrugs.

"I一 Uh...um." You fumble around in your brain to find words, but you fail just as badly as Eddie did. Your cheeks start to burn, a deep hue of crimson washing over your face. You wish you could wake up from this awful dream, or hide under the covers until they go away.

"Alright, kiddos, breakfast is ready! Time to fuel up before you一" Mom walks into the scene, her face quickly turning to anger. But it's not directed at you. She turns to the kids standing across from your bed. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Dusty, you know better than to invade your sister's privacy! Boundaries, Dusty, boundaries! As for the rest of you kids, I have half a mind to call your parents! Now, you all have exactly three seconds to apologize, get out of Y/N's room, and go eat some damn pancakes before I kick you all out on your rear ends!" She crosses her arms, her nostrils flaring. Everyone's eyes go wide, and guilt takes over their expressions.

"Sorry, Y/N. It won't happen again." Dustin says quietly, bowing his head. The others say their apologies, before leaving your room. Mom shakes her head as the kids walk past her one by one. Once they leave, she turns to you. Her expression changes instantly, and she's ecstatic to see you in bed with Eddie.

"I see you found yourself a man after all!" She says, almost jumping up and down. "How was it? Oh, I'm kidding, don't tell me." She giggles heartily. "I'm just so happy for you, sugarpuff! Now, be safe, no babies just yet! And maybe be a teensy bit quieter next time, okay? But, I love you! And when you're dressed, come have some pancakes." She leaves the room excitedly, clapping her hands together before closing the door. Now you really wish this was all a bad dream. You fall back down on the pillows, covering your face with your hands. You groan against your palms in annoyance.

"I am so sorry for that. God, she can be so embarrassing sometimes! I get it if you want to run for the hills right now. Jesus Christ, why can't I just have a normal family!" You yell, hoping Mom and Dustin hear you. But they probably don't, there's a lot of conversation going on in the kitchen. You look at Eddie, who still hasn't said a word. He's smirking at you, holding back laughter. His body is shuddering, and tears threaten to spill from his eyes. When he sees your peeved expression, he completely loses it. He cackles his ass off, his face going red as he just laughs and laughs. He clutches his stomach once it starts to hurt from laughing so much.

"Ha-" He tries to calm himself down, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, I've just never seen your mother get angry like that. And then for her to be so giddy that you fucked me? Jesus, it's just too hilarious!" He drops into another laughing fit, and you just look at him. You want to be angry, but his guffawing is contagious. You begin to lose it too, the whole situation is pretty ridiculous. "I see where you get your fire from now!" He squeals, rolling over as he continues to laugh. You laugh even harder at his statement, smacking his chest playfully. "Ow! Play nice!" He shouts as he pokes a finger into your tit. You lay here laughing together for a while. Occasionally you calm down for a second, before sputtering into another fit. You try to focus on something else, gazing into Eddie's eyes. He does the same, and suddenly neither of you are laughing anymore. He moves in and plants a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Good morning, baby." You finally get to greet him properly.

"Morning, princess. I suppose we better get dressed, huh?" He sounds slightly disappointed.

"Yeah, we gotta get out there before Dustin eats all the pancakes." You kiss Eddie, deeper this time. You don't really want to get out of bed. And if it weren't for the campaign, Eddie wouldn't either. You toss the covers off of you, standing up to stretch yourself out. You go to your dresser, looking for some clean clothes. You change your panties, tossing the old ones into the hamper.

"Damn, what a view!" Eddie whoops as you bend over.

"You're fucking filthy sometimes, you know that?" You respond with your back turned to him, smiling to yourself.

"So are you, angel. And I can't get enough." He's digging around in the duffel bag he brought, pulling out some fresh boxers. He changes into them, putting the old ones away. You watch him with hungry eyes through the reflection of your vanity. He pulls his ripped jeans on, fastening the belt. You realize he needs his shirt, so you start pulling it over your head. "What are you doing?" He asks.

"You need your shirt, right?" You say plainly.

"I've got others. Besides, that one makes you mine, remember? Keep it, you look sexy in it." He smirks at you in the mirror, pulling an exact copy of the shirt he gave you over his head. You whine at the loss of his exposed skin, making him chuckle. "Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll see it again later tonight."

"Promise?" You ask as you put your bra on under your shirt. You locate your jeans from yesterday, pulling them up your legs. Eddie walks over to you once he's fully dressed, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He plants a kiss on your cheek.

"I promise, princess. Anything for you. I'm gonna go brush my teeth, ‘kay? I can't imagine my morning breath is very attractive." He runs back to his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and some Colgate.

You both finish getting ready, and join the others for breakfast. The kids are scarfing down their food, eager to return to the game. When breakfast is over, you and Eddie go have a smoke out front while the kiddos get in their positions for the day. You end up making out in the grass again, and Dustin has to retrieve you when you've been gone too long.

Eddie takes his seat at the head of the table, same as last night. You're about to sit in the chair beside him when he grabs your waist suddenly. He sits you down on his lap, smiling at you as his arm goes around your waist. The others at the table let out a collective ‘Ooh’, making kissy noises and wagging their tongues in the most immature way. "Alright, that's enough everyone. You've had your fun. It’s time to play the game, 'kay?" Eddie says to calm everyone's taunting chatter. He looks up at you a moment, giving you a quick kiss before continuing the campaign. Everyone ‘Aww’s at you, they find the pair of you quite adorable, despite their teasing.

You spend the entirety of the day on Eddie's lap, watching him closely as he leads the campaign. You worry that your position makes it difficult for him to perform effectively. But any time you try to move off of him, he holds you firmly in place. After the first four hours of the day, everyone takes a break and you and Eddie go outside for a smoke. "How are your wounds doing? You should probably change the bandages when we go back in." Eddie says as he pulls out his cigarettes. He's leaning against the house, and you stand closely in front of him.

"They don't hurt as much today. I'll look them over in a bit." You reply, taking a cig from the pack while reaching in his jeans pocket to retrieve the lighter. Your hand brushes against his dick, and his breath hitches. You smirk at him as you light up. "What's wrong, darling?" You question innocently.

"Don't play dumb with me, Y/N. You know exactly what you're doing." He says with a grin, snatching the lighter from you. He ignites his own cigarette, inhaling deeply. He puts the pack and lighter back in his pockets. Then he grabs you by your waist, pulling your body against his. Eddie gazes into your eyes, lust swimming in his pupils. He breathes out, smoke flowing from his mouth in swirling clouds. He moves his head through the smoke to kiss you hungrily, causing you to moan.

You pull away from the kiss, knowing you'll lose track of time again if you let him keep touching you. He looks at you with confusion, almost whining at the loss of your lips on his. "Sorry. I don't want to hold everyone up, Eds. But we'll have our time tonight." You reassure him, placing your hand on his arm as you take another drag.

"I'll be sure to hold you that, dollface." He says darkly.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, exhaling the smoke in rings. "You can hold me to anything you want, Munson." You tease him, running your hand over the front of his jeans. He gasps, grabbing your wrist.

"Keep playing with fire, princess. You'll pay the price later." He bites your neck, and you moan loudly. He lets you out of his grip, and continues smoking. You lean next to him, putting your head on his shoulder. His head lays over yours, and you finish your cigarettes in silence. The only thoughts inside your heads are of what you plan to do to each other later. You flick your spent butts away once they burn down to nothing, and turn to each other for a moment. You're both smiling widely, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. 

Eddie kisses you one last time, slyly pinching your ass. You yelp, smacking his chest. He breaks away, chuckling. "Sorry, babe. I just can't help myself around you. I'll round up the rugrats, and you need to take care of your injuries, 'kay?" He says kindly.

You roll your eyes at him getting on you about changing some silly bandages. "Yeah, yeah. I'll meet you back at the table. Save me a seat?" You turn away to go inside.

"Best seat in the house, princess!" He calls after you, making you laugh. You slowly realize you're definitely falling hard for him. You've never felt this way about anyone before. When you're with Eddie, everything feels right.

You make your way through the house to the bathroom. Dustin almost bumps into you as he wrestles one of the twins over taking the last pop tart. "Play nice, boys." You say as you walk past. Dustin glares at you, flipping the bird. "You better cut that out, or I'll tell mom." You smirk at him as his eyes widen in fear. "That's what I thought. So, cool it." You reach the bathroom, but you don't bother to close the door since you're just changing bandages. You begin to peel the old ones off, hissing as the pulling stings your skin.

"Want some help, sweetheart?" You jump as you hear Eddie behind you. You turn to see him leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He smiles at you. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Sit down, let me help." He gestures at the bathtub, and you sit on the edge of it. He opens your medicine cabinet, locating everything he'll need. "Do you have washcloths somewhere?" He asks as he sets the supplies on the counter.

"Linen closet, just outside the bathroom." You point in the direction of the closet.

"Thanks." He leaves the room for a moment, returning with the cloth. He turns on the sink, letting warm water run over the fabric. He turns it off, and kneels before you. He gently pulls off your old bandages, making you wince. "I know, baby, just relax." He says, attempting to comfort you. You do your best to stay still until all your wounds are exposed. He carefully inspects them. "They're not infected, so that's good. How bad does it hurt? Scale of one to ten?" He looks into your eyes, more serious than you've ever seen him before.

"You playing doctor now, Eds?" You giggle. He's so concerned about your wellbeing, it's a very handsome look on him. He raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not very amused. "Sorry, you're just very cute right now. But they don't hurt that bad, maybe a two?" His expression softens, and he kisses your forehead.

"Okay, good. Let's get these cleaned and covered so we can get back. I'm worried the kids are gonna kill each other out of boredom soon." You both chuckle at that, and he gently wipes your left palm with the cloth. You flinch again, but he's patient with you. He firms his grip on your wrist to keep you from squirming, and you do your best to ignore how the fabric feels against your scraped skin. He moves on to your other hand, and then your knees. He puts the cloth in the hamper next to the sink, and brings over some disinfectant. He uses q-tips to apply it to your skin, and it bubbles up to kill the germs.

"Ow! Fuck, I hate this stuff." You say as the liquid stings like a motherfucker.

"I know, sweetheart. We're almost done." He takes some tissue to wipe away the excess disinfectant. Then, he puts some ointment on everything before placing fresh bandages down. Once you're covered, he plants kisses on your palms and knees. "There. All better." He says while stroking your thighs with his large hands. You can't help but moan at his touch, everything he does has an impossibly strong effect on you. "Gettin’ needy for me already?" He chuckles as he leans in for a kiss.

You meet him halfway, kissing him like you haven't seen him in months. Your hands lose themselves in his frizzy locks, massaging his scalp with your fingers. He groans, hands going to your back to pull you closer. You move off the tub, pushing him over. You straddle Eddie's lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. He's sitting upright with you, groping your tits over the shirt he gave you as your mouths continue to move against each other. You can't get enough of Eddie, it's like you're addicted. No matter how much restraint either of you try to show, you end up swapping spit the second you're alone. 

Your noises manage to get the attention of Erica, and she startles the both of you when she shouts to snap you out of your lustful trance. "Hey, perverts! Can you stop smacking lips for five seconds and come play? I didn't postpone a sleepover with Tina to watch you two being gross!"

"We'll be right there, Lady Applejack. Just give us a minute, hm?" Eddie says between kisses, waving Erica away.

She sighs loudly, rolling her eyes. "You could at least close the door next time." She makes a gagging noise before leaving to take her place at the table. You hear laughing from the others, clearly you've been ratted out. You can't help but giggle against Eddie's lips.

"Okay, okay. We've made them wait long enough, Y/N." He pushes you away gently, and you whine at the loss. You pout your lips at him, giving him puppy eyes. "You make it so hard to say no to you, baby. But you have to be patient. Good things come to those who wait. That's the saying, right?" He looks at you with a dark lust in his eyes, emphasizing certain words to make you weak in the knees. You just nod, entranced by him. "Good girl. C’mon." He pats your thighs as a signal for you to get up, and you do as he asks with a long sigh. He stands up after you, leading you to the table.

"Thank God! I thought you two would be sucking face all damn day." Dustin says with a chuckle at your expense. The rest of the table erupts with laughter, and you can't help blushing. You feel bad for holding everyone up, but you can barely hold yourself together around Eddie.

"Back off, Henderson. You'll understand the ways of romance someday." Eddie says, clapping a hand on Dustin's shoulder on his way over to his seat. You follow behind him, flicking Dustin's ear.

"Ow! What the hell?" Dustin shouts, and you just fix him with a death-stare. He flips you off, which you return.

"Cut it out, Y/N. You're a grown woman, so act like it." Eddie says while smirking at you. Your eyes widen at him chiding you, but his expression stays the same.

"Ooooooooh!" The others say in unison at Eddie calling you out.

"Shut up!" He yells, and everyone goes quiet. He motions for you to come sit on his lap again, and you take your place. "Mm, that's my girl. Try to relax, 'kay?" He says lowly in your ear, you can't help the chill running over your spine. "Be a good girl for me, I'll make it worth your while." He kisses your neck gently, and your eyes flutter shut for a moment. Eddie turns his attention to the game, setting the scene. You watch him closely, admiring how passionate he is.

The hours tick past, the players falling one by one to a formidable enemy. Eddie seems to be a pretty ruthless dungeon master, setting the game up to be as difficult as possible. There's many arguments, calls for a re-roll, and angry outbursts. You realize this game can get intense sometimes, and Eddie has a habit of shouting. It startles you, but he rubs your thigh with his hand to keep you calm. He glances over at you occasionally, flashing you a smile. You'll smile back, batting your eyes at him. Eddie pinches your waist as an acknowledgement of your desire. This whole time, you've been trying to focus on the game. But you can't help your mind wandering to filthy places as you observe him.

Your brain swirls with images of how you want him to fuck you. You see flashes of his fingers pumping inside you, his mouth sucking in your clit, his cock disappearing into your soaked pussy. You imagine things he hasn't even done to you yet. He's got you on all fours in his van, fucking you from behind. His ringed hand is wrapped around your throat, squeezing firmly. Your head feels light as he pounds into you. He calls you filthy names, and tells you how much of a good girl you are. Every passing thought makes you wet, and you squeeze your thighs together. You're just about to imagine cumming hard on his cock when一

"Y/N? Hello, you in there?" Eddie says, snapping his fingers in front of your eyes. It startles you, smashing the fantasy away like a mirror. "The game's over for the day, princess. Were you daydreaming?" He asks, grinning at you. You feel your cheeks burn as you blush wildly, his smile growing larger. "What were you thinking about?" You look around to see the others leaving the table for the night. You hope you didn't appear too freakish while zoning out. A couple of them raid the kitchen for more snacks, while the rest go into Dustin's room to do something else like reading comic books.

"Nothing, Eddie." You shake your head at him, but he presses on.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N. It must have been pretty important if it distracted you from the game for so long. So, out with it. Where'd you go?" He says quietly, stroking your arm with the back of his hand. His expression is gentle, but curious. You hope you haven’t offended him, making him think you got bored of the game when it’s quite the opposite.

"I was...thinking about you." You look down at your hands, you feel so silly. You can't even make it a few hours without thinking about Eddie in such dirty ways. You're like a horny teenager.

"Oh, really?" He smiles wide at you, chuckling. "What about me?" The expression on his face tells you he already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it.

"You know what." You sigh, your head falling back in annoyance. You don't want to say it, the whole thing is so embarrassing.

"Is someone getting shy now? You don't have to be ashamed, sweetheart. I am devastatingly handsome, after all." He jokes, making you laugh. "There's a smile on that pretty face. C’mere." He brings his hand up to your cheek, moving it behind your neck to pull you close. He kisses you, giving you butterflies. He hums into the kiss, and you clumsily straddle him in the chair. Your movements send it tipping backwards, and Eddie grunts as he meets the carpet with you on top of him.

"Shit! Sorry, are you okay?" You break away, checking to make sure he's alright.

"I'm fine, don't worry about it." He pulls you back down to him, smashing his lips to yours. He grabs your ass hungrily, making you moan down his throat. His tongue battles with yours, fighting to dominate you. Your hands wander under his shirt, scratching your nails on his chest. Eddie groans, smacking your ass.

"Jesus Christ, not this again!" Dustin shouts, covering his eyes. You both freeze, looking over to see the kids staring at you again.

Eddie clears his throat. "Something we can help you with, children?" He asks, trying to act natural. You're still on top of him, unable to move.

"We heard something fall over, so, naturally we came to investigate. And what do we find but two horndogs in the living room!" Dustin shakes his head, tsk-ing at you. "You guys could at least try to sneak around. You know, for our sake. Our young, impressionable eyes can only take so much." He says smugly. He may be playing around, but he's right. You've been careless, and you have your own room for this kind of thing. And you're not a teenager anymore, you're an adult.

"You may be acting like an ass about it, Dusty. But you're right. Boundaries work both ways, so we'll take this outside to the van." You peer down at Eddie. "Sound good, baby?" You ask, begging him with your eyes for the two of you to get out of here ASAP.

"Fair enough, sweetheart." He says while gazing up at you calmly. You lift yourself off of him, helping him stand up. You shoo the kids out of your way, pulling Eddie by the hand to the front door. Five pairs of eyes follow the both of you as you exit the house and pull the door closed. You walk to the van, ready to pull open the back doors when Eddie grabs you by the waist. He whips you around to face him, slamming you into the van. His lips crush yours, capturing them in a bruising kiss.

"What's gotten into you, Eds?" You ask, out of breath. His eyes pierce yours, smirking as he burns inside with lust.

"You're not the only one thinking dirty thoughts, Y/N. I wanted nothing more than to say 'fuck it' to the campaign, toss everything off the table, and fuck you senseless on it. I kept picturing you laying there, and I'd bury my face in your tits, or your pussy. And I'd make you moan and scream, and cum for me over and over. I'm surprised you didn't notice how hard I was under the table." He takes your hand, guiding it to grope his crotch. He's very hard, and you can't help feeling a little sorry for him. He'd managed to stay focused on the game while constantly thinking about pleasing you. The thought of this makes you even more wet.

You grip Eddie's cock even tighter, making him groan. You give him a devilish look, taking advantage of the situation he's put you in. "How about we both stop fantasizing and actually do something about it?" He stares at you, enamored by your boldness. He reaches behind you to open the doors to the van. You stand off to the side, climbing in as soon as he opens the door wide enough for you to slide through. He crawls in behind you, slamming the door shut. He's on you immediately, pinning you on the loose blankets he has strewn about.

"Jesus, you're needy." You quip as he stares into your eyes intensely. He licks his lips, and lowers his head to bite down on your neck. "Shit." You mutter, squirming beneath him. Eddie's hand holds yours in place above your head as he leaves dark marks all over your throat. His knee goes between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed heat. Your back arches off the floor, and you gasp loudly. His free hand gropes your tits, squeezing the flesh roughly. You're completely at his mercy, and he's relentlessly doing everything in his power to drive you wild.

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." He purrs between kisses on your neck. His knee moves slightly faster against you.

"I want you to ruin me, Eds. Claim me as yours, please." You whimper.

"Care to be more specific? I'll do anything you ask." He meets your gaze again, caressing your cheek. He wants to fuck you until you can't stand up straight, but he wants you to beg for it. He loves hearing your pleas.

"I want your fingers inside me. Please?" You hate how needy you sound, but you have to feel him now.

"Your wish is my command, princess." He lets you out of his grip. "Take your pants off for me." You do as he says, tossing them and your panties away haphazardly. You lay down, spreading your legs for him. He glances at your pussy, finding it glistening with arousal that’s dripping onto the blankets. "God, you're already soaked for me." His breath hitches. He lowers his hand to where you want him most, stroking through your slick folds.

"Oh, God. More, please." You gasp, your eyes rolling back in your head. He rubs your clit in long circles, taking his time to tease you. You moan helplessly, struggling not to squirm. He finally inserts a finger inside your cunt, and your back arches again. "Fuck, put in another one." You cry out, and he does as you ask. He fingers you at a steady pace, hitting your g-spot expertly. A stream of moans and curses flows from your mouth, and you feel an orgasm slowly brewing inside you. He picks up speed, sliding in and out of you rapidly.

"Tell me what else you want, angel." Eddie says, cool and collected. His erection rages on inside his pants, but his priority right now is making you feel good. You try to piece together thoughts of what you want him to do next, but they're being scrambled inside your head by overwhelming pleasure.

"Use your tongue on me. You're so good at that." You pant out, mentally cheering at getting the words out. His fingers leave you, and you whine at the loss. But you're moaning again momentarily as his mouth latches onto your clit. Your hands tangle in Eddie's hair, holding him as close as you can to your pussy without suffocating him. "Oh, fuck. Eddie, that feels so good. Keep going." He goes faster, swirling his tongue around your clit, thrusting into your cunt on occasion. Your orgasm is bubbling up, closer and closer to boiling over. 

“Mm.” He moans into you as you tug on his hair, sending vibrations through you. You moan out again, wanting so badly for your bliss to spill over you. 

"I'm so close, don't stop! I'll be such a good girl for you! Please, make me cum!" You cry out, uncontrollably cursing, moaning, calling his name. Your words and sounds egg him on, he goes harder and faster against you. His tongue and lips work overtime to make you come undone. He finishes you off by sucking your clit harshly, and you're washed over in a sheen of sweat as your orgasm explodes like a volcano. "Oh, fuck! Eddie!" You scream as you cum all over his face. Your legs tremble, and your hips want to flail. Eddie holds you in place as your high rushes through you. He swallows as much of your juices as he can, licking up every last drop. You let him go, looking up at his glistening face. He's smiling like a kid on Christmas, your arousal dripping from his chin. "Looks like you had a splash." You joke as he wipes his face with his sleeve.

"God, that was so fucking hot. I could make you do that all day and never get tired of it." He grins at you, leaning down to kiss you passionately. You moan as you taste yourself on his lips. He slips his tongue in your mouth, quickly dominating your own. You go on like this for what feels like forever, both of you exploring each other with your hands. He breaks away when you eventually need air. "But I'm guessing you have other ideas in mind, Y/N. Not to mention, I'm desperate to fuck you into next week."

"So am I. Can we try something different, though?" You ask, playfully tracing a finger on Eddie's chest. You gaze at him from under your lashes, batting them seductively.

"We can do whatever you want, babydoll. What did you have in mind?" He replies, anxious to  know what you’re after.

"I want you to fuck me from behind, Eddie." You admit. Your mouth stays open, prepared to say something else. But you decide against it, thinking he won't go for it.

"What else, sweetheart? I guarantee you won't scare me away." He cups your cheek, to make you feel comfortable and safe.

"I...I want you to choke me." His eyes go wide, and you immediately regret asking. "I knew you wouldn't like it. Nevermind." You try to squirm away, you've killed the mood. But Eddie stops you.

"No, baby. I love it. I'm just surprised. I didn't realize you were so kinky." He smirks at you, finding your nervousness endearing. "Relax, Y/N. You don't ever need to be embarrassed with me about anything. Especially not when it comes to sex." He sits up a moment, making quick work of removing his clothes. You discard your shirt and bra, and you get onto your hands and knees for him. You feel him come up behind you, and he strokes your soaked folds with the tip of his dick.

"Fuck, Eddie. Please don't tease me. I need you." You whine at him, pushing yourself backwards to meet him. He chuckles darkly.

"Patience, princess. You have a real problem with waiting." He gives your ass a rough slap, causing you to yelp. It stings, and turns you on even more. "You like that, baby? Should I do it again?" He asks, continuing to tease your entrance.

"Yes, please." You turn your head to look at him as best you can, seeing him raise his hand. He brings it down to your other ass cheek, making eye contact with you. You moan loudly this time, and his smile gets wider.

"And they call me a freak." He says, gently caressing your behind to soothe the stinging marks he's made on you. "Do you want more? Or should we get to the good part?"

"Maybe another time, I need you in me right now." You hate sounding so needy, it only feeds his already inflated ego. But everything Eddie does to you feels like nothing you've experienced before. You want him to rail you, you can't take it anymore.

"Whatever you say, Y/N." He says as he carefully pushes his length into you. Low moans escape your mouths. You grip the blankets beneath you, bracing for him to pick up his pace. He pulls out with just as much caution, taking in how your velvet walls hug his cock perfectly. He slams into you on his second stroke, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

"Fuck, keep doing that." You gasp, the oxygen in the van seemingly growing thinner. He repeats this action a few more times…slowly pull out…and then slam back in. Each time rips a moan from your throat, his tip hitting your g-spot with precision.

"Shit, you're so wet and tight for me." Eddie hisses as he pulls out once more. He lays his torso over yours, reaching a hand up to your neck. He wraps his ringed fingers around your throat, cutting off your air supply. He rams his dick into you again, and begins thrusting rapidly. You choke out a moan, your skin going ablaze once more. Waves of pleasure quickly wash over you, building higher and higher as Eddie's thrusts push you closer to the edge. Your head feels light from his grip on you, and you're already seeing stars. "You like it when I choke you, slut?" He asks, his brows furrowed as he continues to fuck you. He loosens his hold on your throat for a moment so you can respond.

"Yes! God, yes!" You cry out. "Don’t stop, Eds." He tightens his hold again once you get the words out. You begin meeting his thrusts by backing into him. He groans as you do so, the sound making your pussy even more slick for him. Your juices involuntarily leak around him as your pleasure builds, dripping onto the blankets beneath you. Garbled noises leave your throat as Eddie continues to choke you. Everything feels so good, you feel like you're floating on cloud nine.

"Such a good little slut for me. Your pussy feels so good, I'm not gonna last much longer." He's almost babbling as he praises you, your arousal flowing around him makes everything feel better than anything he's ever experienced before. He can't believe how lucky he is to have found a woman like you. He pounds into you even harder, and you push back just as harshly. He lets go of your throat to grip your shoulders. You're chasing each other's highs, desperate to cum at the same time. Both of your moans fill the van, canceling out any outside noise you might've been hearing before. Your walls begin to flutter around him, your rhythm persisting as you mentally beg for your release. Eddie reaches down to rub your clit in rapid circles. Waves crash over you harder and harder, you're so fucking close you almost can't stand it. "Cum with me, Y/N." He almost growls in your ear as he pinches your clit.

"Eddie!" You scream, feeling the largest wave of them all crash into you, taking you under. His hand quickly wraps around your throat again, squeezing tightly. He pumps into you wildly, your walls clenching down onto him. Sticky juices spurt from your hole, making a huge mess beneath you.

"Fuck, baby…" He grunts as his load empties into you, struggling to hold you in place as your orgasms rock through you. Your legs tremble, and he feels your cum soak his cock and explode out of you. It makes you both slippery, he almost loses his grip. His hips buck into you compulsively, and he chokes out a few more moans. His senseless thrusts keep your orgasm going, and your body feels white hot, like you might burst into smithereens. He pulls out of you and tumbles backwards as his high subsides, more fluids splashing out of your cunt.

You fall forwards on your stomach, breathing heavily. You feel dizzy, like the world around you has dissolved entirely. You lay here for a moment, your thighs twitching uncontrollably as your clit still sparks from your orgasm. You feel so spent, wanting to pass out just like this.

"You alive over there?" Eddie asks, his words echoing in your ears. You hear him flicking his lighter, and then you smell smoke. You try to return to reality, sitting up and turning to face him. He's leaning against the doors of the van, smoking with his eyes closed. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and his cock glistens with your cum. His hair has matted around his face, and he's soaked in sweat. He's just as exhausted as you are, maybe even more so. You crawl over to him, reaching for his pack of cigarettes. You put one in your mouth, looking around for the lighter. You hear it flick again, and look to see Eddie holding it ready for you. His eyes are still shut as he attempts to calm himself after that mind-blowing experience.

"I'm great. How are you doing?" You finally speak, leaning in to light your cig. You breathe in deeply to steady your heart rate. You lay your head on Eddie's shoulder, and he plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I'm fan-fuckin’-tastic, princess." He says, attempting to sound put together. But his panting blows the image away. He opens his eyes a moment, quickly taking notice of the massive wet spot on the blankets. "Shit, now I gotta do laundry." He chuckles, nudging you to look at the mess you’ve made.

You sheepishly glance at it, blushing like mad. "Sorry. You just have a really strong effect on me." You reply quietly. "I can wash them inside for you if you like. Mom won't mind. They could probably use a wash despite the mess anyways." You playfully elbow him in the ribs.

"Ouch! Play nice." He flicks your shoulder in retaliation.

"Make me." You say, giving him a sly smile.

"Maybe I will if you aren't careful." He replies, returning to his smoking.

To be continued…

[simp2537]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢

A/n: All series triggers will be bellow. If anyone does like hospitals here’s a small warning.

Word Count: 714 words

Trigger Warnings: Gore, Blood, Horror, Cursing, Child Abuse, Human experiments, Child abandonment, Angst, Depression, Anxiety, PTSD, Insomnia, etc

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖜𝖔

Aizawa watch the small girl through a hospital window. After the carnage of the lab she was brought to a hospital. A female doctor walked out of the room and over to the hero’s guarding the girls room.

“How is she doc?” Present Mic questioned concern laced in his tone. The doctor let out a sigh and shook her head. 

“The poor girls got two fractured ribs, three bruised ribs, one broken rib, a broken right arm, her left arm bone is bruised, a grade two concussion, and not to mention all the bruises and scars on the outside of her body. Some of her old cuts opened up during her fight. And there obviously years on abuse on her body. Once we find out how old she is we’ll be able to treat her better.” The Doctor informs the hero’s. 

The hero’s all gasp and exclaim is worry. Mic placed his hand over his mouth. Endeavor’s eyes widen but remained calm. Midnight gasps and begins to ask what kind of monster would do that to a little girl. 

Aizawa goes to look at the girl in pity only to find some man standing above her. His outfit is strange and colorful, with a strange hat on his head. He’s holding and tea pot and tea cups float in the air. 

Aizawa attempts to open the door only for it to be lock. The other hero’s look at Aizawa as he try’s to open the door. Only once they see the strange man do they realize why Aizawa was in such a frenzy.

Endeavor pushes the hero’s to the side and blast at the door with his fire but to no avail. Aizawa begins to pound on the window as staff become worried.

Aizawa watches as the strange man rolls his eyes at the hero’s. He grabs one on the cup floating around a pours tea into the tea cup. Aizawa begins to pound on the window as the other hero’s try and open the room from any angle. 

The man take his hat off and kneels down . He gently grabs the small girl and pulls her closer to his body. Aizawa pauses at this. The man was being too gentle, like he was afraid of breaking her.

THe man brought the tea cup to the girls lips and pour some tea down her throat. After some tea went down the girls throat the man placed her back onto her bed. 

All the floating tea cups slowly descended onto the side table as the man placed down the tea cup he was holding. The teapot still floated and the man placed it down while grabbing his strange hat. 

The man placed his hat onto his indigo hair. The man pet her hair and placed a soft kiss to her forehead. Aizawa pushed Endeavor away from the door and kicked it open. 

Aizawa rushed into the room the hero’s not far behind. Aizawa stared into the mans teal eyes as the man bowed at him. And with a snap of his fingers the man was gone. 

Aizawa went to the girl quickly and looked her over. Her pale s/c skin was beginning to have color. The deep bags under her eyes were softer. The bruise covering the left side of her face began to feel.

Midnight went to grab the tea pot only for an orb of light to surrounded the cups and pot pushing her away. 

“Is she okay?” Mic asked standing next to Aizawa. Before Aizawa can answer the girls eyes shoot open causing Mic to scream.  The girl shoot up inhaling deeply while looking around ignoring the hero’s in her room.

When her eyes landed on the tea pot she reached out for it. The tea pot and cup began to float towards her. The pot poured tea into her tea cup and with shaky hands she took a sip. 

The girl stared at each hero for a moment before the air next her began to warp. A large fry cat with blue stripes large golden eyes and a smile stretched across his face floated next to the girl.  

The cat landed on her lap and she laid back into the pillows while the hero’s were under the cats watchful eyes. 

[toppersbitch]

Temporary Fix // Joe Burrow x Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Summary: You catch Joe’s eye at the club and he decides he’ll be your temporary fix. Word Count:1k Warnings: NFL joe, partying, drinking, soft Joe, fingering, unprotected sex

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You grinded yourself against the miscellaneous dance partner, Luke you think, your friend had picked for you. In all honesty, he was insufferable, he kept calling you the wrong name, stepping on your feet, and flirting with other girls.

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” you yelled into his ear.

“What?” he breath stunk, cigarettes and beer. You held your tongue in and walked away rolling your eyes. You ordered the strongest drink and slumped against the wall watching people. You locked your eyes on a tall guy with dirty blonde hair. He was drinking from a water bottle, standing in a group of other tall men. He turned and looked at you, scanning the rest of the club in one motion. You felt yourself blush and you quickly averted your eyes.

“There you are,” Luke grabbed at your waist and you dodged him, “We’re about to leave are you coming with?’

“No, I’m good,” you pushed his hands away again. You looked past him to the blonde, his eyes were scanning past you again, making brief eye contact. Luke grabbed at your arm again and you pushed him away, “No, I said I’m good,” You walked away, towards the blonde. You stopped when he scanned the room again, you turned and slumped against a wall adjacent to him.

You sipped your drink watching the room, taking frequent glances at the blonde.

“Hey,” you turned your head and there he was, “I’m Joe,” he put his hand out to shake. You took it, shaking it and reciprocating with your name.

“I uh- I don’t know if you came with anyone but here’s my number,” he had written it on a napkin, “you can call whenever and I can be your muse.”

“You mean my vice?” you asked smirking, holding tight to the napkin.

“Whatever you wanna call it,” he shined his pearly whites with a chuckle.

“Can I call now?” you asked smiling, he put a hand above your head entrapping you with his body.

“You’re in control,” with those words you smashed your mouth to his hungrily.

His hands roamed your body, your head feeling woozy with delight, the blacks of your eyelids lit up with color from the club lights. Stopping for a breath you noticed eyes on you, phones out snapping pictures. Who was this guy?

“Let's go?” Joe grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the club to the street. He pulled out his phone to call a uber. You climbed in, pulling Joe in next to you, jumping onto him, and pressing your lips to his neck. The car rolled to a stop and Joe opened the door, steadying you as you stepped out. He opened the front door for you, shutting it behind him and pushing you up against it. Lips crashing into yours, you pulled at his shirt hem, and he lifted it over his head. You stared at him, his toned body breathing heavily waiting for your next move. You pushed him back, signaling him to lead you to his bed.

You pushed him back on the bed, climbing on top, pulling your shirt off, and throwing it. His eyes moved up and down your body. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your breast, leaning down to kiss him. He kneaded your breast with one hand as the other guided your hips grinding against him. He groaned into the kiss, his hands feeling hungrier, his hard-on bulging into you.

He rolled and pushed you under him, pulling down your pants. His eyes were hungry looking down at you.

“Touch me,” you pleaded, his eyes shot up to yours. He moved his head, placing kisses on your thighs, his finger entering your heat. Your stomach flipped as he began to move his finger pumped in and out. You moaned, closing your eyes, watching him was too much to handle. He pushed in another finger, moving faster, hitting your g-spot. You moaned loudly, your hand shooting to cover your mouth.

“Say my name baby,” his voice was deeper than before. You moaned out his name as your stomach tightened, your body feeling light as you went over the edge. He moved up placing a kiss on your collarbone.

“Good,” he said against your skin.

“I need more,” you were yearning for him. You sat up, your hands undoing his belt and pull his pants down, his cock shot out. You took it in your hand and stroked it, feeling it becomes harder. He pushed his head back groaning.

“Mhm stop,” you obliged, letting go of his dick. He pushed you back onto the bed, his hands running up your legs. He pushed his dick in, and you whimpered. He moved slowly.

“Faster Joe,” you pleaded.

“Tell me what you want baby,” he tucked his head into your neck.

“I want you to make me cum,” you whined, and his thrusts became faster. His thumb playing with your clit. Rubbing fast circles, driving you wild. Your stomach began to clench.

“Joe,” you cried out, grabbing onto his arm.

“That’s right baby call out my name,” He moved faster and harder, your closed your eyes, your orgasm hitting you hard.

“JOE,” you yelled, his motions weakening as he came, and he collapsed next to you. Laying a hand on your cheek. You both lay there, breathing heavily, and your legs felt weak. You began to take in your surroundings, a football jersey framed on the wall, two of them actually. Both read ‘Burrow’ with the number 9.

“You’re Joe Burrow?” you whipped your head to the side, he looked at you smiling, and nodding.

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

This is my first Joe one-shot, I hope everyone likes this. This was written on a whim and in two hours so I'm sorry if it's bad.

Check out my other stuff HERE

[intern-seraph]

give me your fire (Day 2/3)

Standing lordly over you, Malleus stares down with pupils blown wide. He pants with an open mouth, fisting both cocks with one trembling hand. “You’ll take both now, won’t you?”

come get ur food malleusfuckers

(Originally posted on Ao3)

DAY 1

DAY 3

cws: just way too much cum, eating breakfast together like dweebs, claws, biting, partial transformation, double vaginal penetration, pain, underprepping, minor possessiveness, size kink, more marathon sex, consensual somnophilia, fem!reader

You wake up slowly, nestling closer to the other person in your bed. He sighs and tightens his embrace. You’d love to spend the next hour in his arms, really, but —

“Malleus,” you whisper, “can you let me go for a sec? I gotta pee.”

His eyes flutter open. The bright green is far less hazy than it was last night. He smiles wearily. “Mm, good morning. How do you feel?”

“A little sore, but okay. Can you please let me go now? I’ll be back ASAP.”

He growls, arms squeezing you tighter. Then he nods and, visibly reluctant, releases you. “Be quick about it.”

“Of course.” Drawing out of his grasp, you leave him with a tender kiss on the forehead. It placates him enough to let you go without any vocal protests, but he pouts all the while. There’s one thing you didn’t consider, however, that makes itself quite known as soon as you stand up. Your eyes go wide as saucers and you yelp as your center of gravity shifts and cum immediately starts slipping down your thighs. You snap your legs together. “Oh shit!”

From the bed, Malleus snickers. You shoot him your most venomous glare, but he only grins as he lounges under the sheets. “Is something the matter?”

“You!”

“Hm? Did I do anything?”

“You and-and your —!”

“Go take care of your business, love,” he says, shushing you. “I want you back in my arms as soon as possible.”

You roll your eyes and shuffle over to the ensuite. Thank god he has one, you don't know what you'd do if you had to go to one of the dorm's communal restrooms. Public humiliation isn't high on your to-do list.

After you finish your business, you wipe yourself down with a washcloth and splash cool water on your face. Feeling far less sticky and far more awake, you peek out into the bedroom. Sitting on top of the bed is a massive tray laden with pastries and fresh fruit. Malleus glances up to meet your eyes. He smiles and beckons for you to join him in bed.

"Breakfast in bed? Pretty decadent," you comment as you slip under the covers.

"It was delivered while you were in the restroom. Eat up, you'll need your energy for the rest of the day." He pauses and stops spreading jam over his toast. "Unless, of course, you wish to stop? Your aid so far is likely more than enough for me to be able to think clearly today. We could always just cuddle. Your body against mine… it helps." As he speaks, his arm winds around you, pulling you snug against his side. You snuggle closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He takes one of the pastries and offers it to you. It’s still warm, crumbling wonderfully in your mouth and leaving you feeling just as light and airy as its crust. Breakfast is spent speaking softly to each other and leaving lingering touches on thighs and arms and waists. He’s wonderfully cool to the touch even after spending so much time skin-to-skin with you. The best side of the pillow, but living and breathing and visibly trying not to kiss you senseless. Part of you wouldn’t mind just staying like this for the rest of the day. The other part, the louder one, only reminds you over and over of the one peak you’ve yet to summit with Malleus.

“I’d like to keep going,” you say, lacing your fingers with his. He’s only just slid back under the covers with you after setting the empty tray aside. His electric green eyes light up, and his other hand comes up to cup your cheek.

“You’ve no idea how happy that makes me.”

“I can guess.”

You throw one leg across his, straddling his slender hips with little effort. Malleus beams up at you. Hands settling on your hips, he licks his lips. “You look delectable. If only I could partake of your sweetness for the rest of my life.”

“That wouldn’t be a very long life.”

“Then I would die a happy man.”

“Cheesy,” you whisper. Your hips roll and you delight in the way his lashes flutter. He’s hard against your thigh, so you take one cock in hand and lower yourself onto him, humming with pleasure. Both of his hands settle on your hips. They squeeze lightly, haltingly, and the tips of his claws brush your skin. You palm over them, squeeze, and he takes the hint, finally digging his claws into your haunches. You lean in, lips brushing the point of his ear. “Go on. I like it.” Punctuating your words with a gentle bite, you arch your back and steady your hands on either side of his thighs.

The coolness of his mouth engulfs your nipple and he teases the fragile skin with his fangs. He grips you solidly and begins a frenzied pace — his coolheadedness had belied the desperation his heat has been building in him all morning — so frantic that it’s all you can do to keep your balance. His hips stutter for only a moment as he spills his load inside you and on both of your bellies. But he’s still hard. And he keeps going, huffing and snarling. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Malleus, Malleus, Malleus —!”

“Louder,” he growls, mouthing at the curve of your shoulder in the ghost of a bite, “let them know who is making you feel so good, let them know who claims you!”

And oh, if it’s not frightening in the most wonderful of ways. Your voice pitches and peaks as he brings one hand down to rub furiously at your clit. The orgasm building in you crests over you as a wave, drowning you in its wake. He howls as you pulse around him and follows close behind. The stickiness you feel as he pulls away from you is only a momentary concern. You’re shoved down to the sheets. Standing lordly over you, Malleus stares down with pupils blown wide. He pants with an open mouth, fisting both cocks with one trembling hand.

“You’ll take both now, won’t you?”

The prospect is dizzying. Your lips move soundlessly for a moment. “W-will they..? I mean, can they…”

“They will.” It’s somewhere between a reassurance and a demand. “Spread yourself.”

You reach down and part your folds with two fingers. Looking away, you try to hide the shame blossoming on your face. Then he purrs, stroking the soaked rim of your cunt with a loving, gentle touch.

“So lovely, so perfect,” he murmurs. “Look me in the eye, my mate. Yes, that’s a good girl. I want to see your face.”

He nudges the heads of his twin cocks against your cunt, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Meanwhile, you try to steady your breathing and relax your muscles. Even with the potions still coursing through your veins, you know it will hurt if you stay so tense. His fingers move to help spread you further, and now he begins the slow process of entering you. Wholly. Your hand snaps up to your mouth, and you sink your teeth into the flesh of your palm to stifle your shriek. Because it fucking hurts. You’ve never been stretched this much before, and you’re pretty sure that most people who do this kind of shit do size training or something for a while before attempting anything similar. There wasn’t really any time to train, though, so you have to grit your teeth through the pain of being stuffed beyond anything you’ve ever experienced before. He moves slowly, pausing every second to stroke your hair and kiss your face and praise you over and over. It takes some time and lots of measured breathing for the burn to turn from pain to pleasure, and eventually you begin to rock up against him. Together, his cocks are thicker than your forearm at their widest, and it’s a stretch far beyond anything else you’ve experienced before today. Despite your nerves, you glance down. You can barely see it but yes, holy shit, that’s your cunt stretched almost to its limits around this dragon’s two (two! holy shit!) cocks. Vertigo hits you, and you gasp as your head falls back against the sheets.

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice shaking.

“It’s a lot.”

“Too much?”

“I need… I think I need another minute. You’re big.” You shut your eyes and continue your slow, measured breathing. Malleus busies himself with marking up every square inch of skin that’s not already covered in bruises and bitemarks. After some more time collecting yourself, you once again start your slow rocking. “S-sorry, it was just… a lot. Seeing it. Us. You.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You are incredible. The sight is almost enough to make me reel, as well… such a good mate. I knew you would be perfect, my sweet mate. I knew you could take me.”

The words leave him in a rush, and he finally starts to fuck into you. His breath is ragged, mouth open and panting and nigh drooling onto your naked chest. He gnashes his teeth when you keen, flexes his fingers into the plush of your thighs as you call his name. You slide your hand between your joined bodies to touch yourself, even though the stimulation is almost too much. “Almost” being the operative word here — you’re pretty sure you won’t explode. But you feel pretty close to it.

Then there’s a cool, wet tongue on your cheek, and you’re completely jarred out of your impending orgasm. You stare up at Malleus in mute shock, his face only a breath away from yours. Those hazy green eyes stare right back. “Your tears,” he says, “are like honey. I want them. All of them. I want to keep you. Mine. Mine.”

You realize now that there are dark scales climbing up his porcelain neck, and a long, scaly tail lashes about behind him. The heat must have awakened something primal in him — dragons hoard things, don’t they? Does he think you’re a part of his hoard? Do you even mind that idea?

You could have a future here. With him. He’s offered it before, and as he looks at you now with veritable hearts in his eyes, you know that he spoke true.

“Let me keep you. I want to be with you forever, I want to see you bear our clutch. My grandmother would — shit — would adore you. You could be my queen. Beautiful and terrifying. I would give you everything. Everything.”

It’s probably his hormones talking, but you can’t deny the appeal of a handsome man speaking about how utterly devoted he is to you. You could get used to it. And then he touches your face like you’re made of spun sugar, the gentleness a sharp contrast to his frenzied fucking, and you melt again.

He goes at it like this for a while. Fucks you full of cum until you feel fit to burst — and then he keeps going and going. The first time you black out, it’s while he’s still on top of you. You reach a dizzying climax, then you black out again. Then, you come to lying on your side, back pressed to his clammy chest while he grinds his hips against your ass.

“Are… are you alright? It seems that the stamina tonic is… hah… beginning to wear thin.”

“Did you keep going?” you whisper.

“Yes. Is that alright?”

His words send your mind reeling, and you know you’d be wetter if that were even possible. You grind back against him. “More than alright. Shit, I’m glad I told you yes.”

“If only you could have seen it,” he says as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He lifts your leg and nudges his knee beneath it. The steady grind of his hips turns into full thrusts. “You looked so peaceful in sleep, even after all that we have done. And your body was so welcoming. They say that the sleeping princess was unnaturally alluring even in her sleep. I think you are the closest I shall ever get to seeing such a thing for myself.” Behind the both of you, his heavy tail thumps a staccato rhythm against the sheets. His breath stutters as he comes and then he rolls you onto your stomach and the world becomes mush again.

You wake up warm and tingling and sore between your legs. Dizzy, you turn to face Malleus. He’s fast asleep beside you, face relaxed and lovely. He breathes more evenly now, and the flush that had spread across his face and chest has lessened. Carefully, so as not to wake him, you lift your hand and brush the backs of your fingers along the line of his jaw. His lashes flutter, and a contented sigh leaves him, but he doesn’t wake. The strong arm draped over your body only pulls you closer. You doze off with your fingers still caressing his face.

Again, you wake up. He’s staring at you, eyes soft with affection. One long finger traces your lips, so you stick out your tongue and lick the pad. Malleus glances down briefly, then meets your eyes again with a soft chuckle.

“Hey stranger,” you mumble.

“Hello.” A pause. “How do you feel?”

“A little sore. Sleepy. Happy. You?”

“Like a new man. I believe that the worst is behind me.” He cups your cheek. When he kisses you, it’s devoid of the desperate hunger you’ve grown used to over the course of the past couple of days. He parts from you with a soft pop. “Thank you. I owe you a debt of gratitude for all that you’ve done for me. Whatever you desire, name it and it is yours.”

You want to tell him that it’s alright, he doesn’t owe you anything. But you swear you can hear a certain furball’s yowling, and you sigh and laugh. “Fancy tuna for Grim, I guess.” Then you become very aware of how sticky you are again. You grimace. “And a bath.”

“May I join you?”

You don’t think much bathing will be done if he joins, but you can’t help your returning grin. “Of course.”

[sombrashe]

content afab gender neutral reader, chubby reader, thigh riding, praise, no plot just horny, established relationship

Note Happy February here's a valentine's gift for you all

"Just like that."

He mumbles his voice not even a whisper. His normal chatter is kept to a minimum. You on the other hand are having trouble keeping your noises to yourself. His hand covers your mouth and nose in a crude attempt to keep you quiet. Rocking your hips you feel the wet spot growing on his worn-out jeans. Vaguely you think how it's going to be suspicious when he leaves the room in new pants, but your thoughts stray as your clit catches on the denim.

"You have to be quiet. Please."

He had been begging to spend some time with you under the impression that today was Valentine's Day. You only relented when he offered a real bed instead of your normal truck bed. His soft whimpers only make your hips stutter.

"I- tr-ng."

His fingers squeeze your cheek with the same intensity as yours grip his wrist. Every slick movement of your hips has your knee bumping against his painfully hard cock. Your eyelids are low, but you continue staring into abysses. His hips jerk against the air as you take your fill. The friction that builds with every glide feels delicious and you claw at the bulletproof vest he never got a chance to take off. Rising your hips you feel overwhelmed and try to ride out your high intermediatly. He notices your lack of substantial movement and forgoes the hand over your mouth to violently yank you back down onto his thigh. Forcing your movements he watches with wild abandonment as you try to jerk away. Pulling back his lips in a snarl he cups the small of your back allowing the pain in your hip to slowly subside.

"Keep on rocking, like that. Yeah, you're doing so good."

You bite hard onto your bottom lip and feel it split filling your mouth with copper. Troy immediately takes notice and silences your pained whine. Darting out his tongue he points his tongue and traces the trail from your chin to the inside of your mouth. You want to gag, the overwhelming taste of metal causing your head to spin. It didn't help that he was angling your hips forward. Your new position has you on your toes as strong hands massage your ass. The limited space he allows has you grinding your clit nonstop against denim. You were starting to get overwhelmed again and tried separating yourself from Troy.

"Stay still. Ya' feel so good and wanna cum so badly. Don't ya'?

His whispers shoot straight to your core. Digging your nails into his hair you hug around him. His movements pause for a moment before picking up pace. You bury your face into his neck, his beard rubs into your cheek. The sounds you make are lust-filled. Barely muffled long whines mix with the occasional word, "fuck" "troy" "i love you". He was staying surprisingly sober throughout the interaction and you made a mental note to reward him for being so good. He mumbles some sweet words in your ear. Each one ends with praise for the way you rode him. How good you are being staying nice and quiet. How he can't wait to taste you. With that, the coil in your abdomen snaps, and your thighs shake as your orgasm washes over you.

"Troy, Dad needs to speak to you."

You grip onto Troy tighter as you try to stifle the shaking cries exiting your throat. He rocks you through the heat coming from under your skin.

"I'll be down in a minute."

His voice is strained and you desperately want him to cum too. Jake lets out a laugh and warns that Troy doesn't have much time before Jeremiah would be the one looking for him. You slump soon after Jake's footsteps fade down the hall. Pressing blood-stained kisses across his neck your libido is still high. He stands with your legs jelly-like as you attempt to stand. Wrapping your arms around his broad waist you give him your best attempt at a stern pout. Troy just pinches your nose and tells you to wobble your way into the bathroom to get cleaned up. You huff and take a shaky step back. Ruffling through his drawers you find a pair of jeans that you know will fit and toss them Troy's way.

"Is that the stage we're at? You dressin' me now?"

"Not like you know how'ta dress yourself."

He huffs and unbuckles his belt. You gather your jeans and underwear and hurry your way into the bathroom to prevent yourself from ending up on your knees. Cleaning between your thighs a little with a dipped washcloth you emerge from the small room fully dressed and situated. Stopping at the foot of his bed you take a moment to gather your weapons and hook them back onto your belt. Troy was standing tall by the door waiting for you. Opening the door he lets you through first before following closely behind.  He leads you down the hallway to the stairs with his hand gently placed on the small of your back.

"If my dad asks, we were going over safety strategies."

"Can't let daddy know you have sex?"

You snicker and he pushes you forward a little causing you to bite your tongue so you don't burst into laughter. You start to sober up when Jeremiah's face starts to come into view. You give a polite nod and hello to the old man. Jake's shit-eating grin is the exact opposite of Jeremiah's angry expression.

"What took you so god damn long?"

You pipe up and explain that you ended up busting your lip while going through safety exercises and Troy was simply helping you with it.

"Helping you? It's still bleeding."

"I never said he did a good job."

That gets Jeremiah's face to mellow out and he nods wishing you a good day and you take your exit with a gentle bloody kiss pressed to Troy's cheek.

[gaysindistress]

Van Helsing Retold - three

pairings: vamp hunter!reader x vamp!bucky

Summary: Under the cover of night, vampires and their hunters have been at war for centuries, never letting their bloodshed reach the light of day. That is until the wife of a powerful vampire leader, Steve Rogers is murdered and he demands revenge. Y/N Van Helsing is the target of his crusade and she comes face to face with his right hand man, Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 2.5k

two | series masterlist

Tag list: permanent @hidden-treasures21 @cakesandtom @isabellatb @vonalyn

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are purely for aesthetic purposes.

The smell that hasn’t left my mind for the last three, no four, I don’t know how many days but that’s besides the point. That smell has wrapped its imaginary arms around me and is holding me tight against its strong chest as I wake up. Sam’s voice is floating around me but the heartbeat in the chest I'm leaning against is louder, pounding in time with my own. Another voice, one that’s vaguely familiar and pulls at a thread somewhere inside of me, says something to Sam.

I feel something shift and I squint my eyes in an attempt to see my surroundings. We’re in a car now and Sam is driving. There must be someone else with us if he’s driving and I’m being cradled like a child.

Wait.

Fuck.

The vampire from the warehouse.

The vampire from the warehouse that’s been haunting my every waking and sleeping moment.

He was the one who barged in on our meeting with Helumt. He was the reason I felt an anger so violent and hostile that it threatened to make me sick. He was the reason Sam and I got out of there safely while I was a limp noodle in Sam’s arms.

Scratch that; a limp noodle in his arms. He’s the one who carried me out and is holding me tight as if i'll turn into ash if he lets me go.

“Van Helsing?” Sam’s voice calls to me and I blink at him through the rearview mirror, “Oh good you’re awake!”

“Thank you for the insightful observation, Wilson,”I shoot back and I feel a small rumble of laughter against my back. I want to look and confirm what I know to be true but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to admit that this vampire has saved my ass at least twice now. I don’t want to admit that I’m comfortable and I feel safe nestled in his arms. I don’t want to admit that I haven’t stopped thinking about him or that I’ve seen him in my dreams. I don’t want to admit that there’s a part of me that awoke that day and it aches when he’s not around.

“Wanna explain what happened?” Sam asks, throwing an accusing look at me

“Well if I had to guess, I’d say I fainted because I’m fresh out of the infirmary and I have a mild head wound that’s still healing. Oh and don’t forget the venom that’s eating away at my hand. I’d say I’m not exactly in fighting shape and my brain knocked me out so I wouldn’t hurt myself anymore.”

The vampire recoils a bit at the mention of my head wound and loosens his grip. Whatever anger of his that is left in me causes me to push off of him and face him.

“And you need to explain why you were at the club and the warehouse.”

His pale eyes widen at the anger directed at him but nonetheless he explains, “I was sent to find Peggy after she didn’t show up for an appointment and Sam asked me to come to the meeting with Helmut.”

It’s my turn to be wide eyed as I snap my eyes to Sam in the rearview mirror, “Sam did what now?”

“I said I had a lead,” he mumbles, not meeting my gaze.

“You didn’t tell me your lead was the fucking right hand to the leader of the Captain’s Guard!”

“If you know how I am then why did you ask me why I was at the warehouse?” The vampire asks, annoyed like I’m the problem.

“You,” I point my venomous finger at him, “don’t get to talk until I say so. As for Sam, you need to explain right the fuck now how and why you’re in bed with the Captain’s Guard.”

“I’m not in bed with them, Jesus,” he scoffs, “he called ME as a matter of fact and i knew that if we were going to make it out of that nightclub alive, we would need backup.”

I narrow my eyes at the vampire and he raises his eyebrows at me as if to remind me that he’s not allowed to speak until I say. I roll my eyes and tell him to start talking.

“As much as I hate all of you hunters, I hate your Guild Master even more. Killing Peggy was a shit call on his part and he’s going to let you and anyone else who tries to help you, take the fall. I told Sam that I would help him find the anti venom for your hand if he helped me frame Walker for Peggy’s death.”

I stay quiet for a moment as I try to process what he’s said, “that doesn’t explain why you’re doing this. I’m a Van Helsing, you should hate me more than any other hunter.”

He studies me, his eyes looking me up and down before he speaks, “I made a promise to your mother and she scares me more than you do.”

“My mother?”

Sam clears his throat and I shoot him daggers with my eyes.

Confusions hits me.

“She died when I was a baby. Peggy killed her.”

“That might be what she told everyone but it’s not true. I took your mother to a safe house to heal and she made me promise that I would never hurt you or let any hurt befall you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Trust me, I fucking wish I was.”

“Sam?” I look at my fellow hunter, “Is he telling the truth?”

The Falcon as he liked to call himself, refused to meet my gaze once again. He’d been maybe 17-18 when I showed up at the Guild as a small and crying baby. In true Van Helsing fashion, I had been wrapped in a black blanket with one of my family’s stakes tucked next to me and placed in a wicker basket on the doorstep of the previous Guild Master’s house. Tony had only been in his early 20s, the youngest Master to take over but he, Sam, and Happy raised me like I was their own. Now that Tony was dead and Happy hadn’t been seen in years, Sam would be the only person who knew what happened to my parents. I’d thought the story he’d told me, the one that Peggy had thrown at me, was the truth but from the way his eyes stay trained on the road, I realize it was a lie.

“Sam,” I try as my voice trembles, “is he telling the truth?”

The vampire’s hand gently grips my chin and pulls my face so that I’m looking at him.

“He’s not to blame. She made us all promise to keep you safe even if that meant lying to you.”

I slap his hand away, “Don’t touch me. I don’t give a single fuck what my mother said or what she made you promise. I don’t even know you so how can I even trust anything you have to say? As for Sam, he’s just as bad as you are and the moment we get to the Guild….”

He grips my chin again and forces me to stare into his eyes as he persuades me, “You will not speak of this to anyone and until I say so, you will stay silent and not move.”

My mouth and body comply without my permission.

Without control over my body, I zone out. Disassociate is a better word for the way I can’t remember the drive, getting out of the car, or how I’ve come to be sat on an emerald green tufted couch. Sam and the vampire are conversing in low voices but it doesn’t matter. I can’t hear them. My brain has effectively shut out everything but the sounds of rain hitting the window behind me and the fire that crackles out to my right. My eyes are trained on an open book that sits on a coffee table in front of me. I can’t read the words from this distance but I can at least appreciate that the owner of this house likes to read.

I feel a hand gently grip my chin and I find myself looking into those pale eyes as he grants me freedom of my body. Sam is tense, ready to grab me if I attack but I don’t. I stay in my corner of the couch and pull my legs up, not caring if my boots ruin the upholstery. I drop my forehead to rest on my knees and I would’ve assumed that anyone else would’ve walked away but the vampire doesn’t. He, instead, sits on the coffee table and leans forward so his forearms rest on his thighs.

“I’m sorry I persuaded you,” he offers the olive branch of pleasantness in a small voice, “I couldn’t let you get yourself hurt.”

“Or worse,” is unspoken but I can feel it in the weight of his gaze that’s fixed on top of my head.

“I still can't understand why you care what happens to me,” I say barely above a whisper but I know he hears me.

“I already told you.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to nor do I expect you to,” there’s an odd heaviness in his words that I also feel in my throat. Rejection and frustration sit on my chest, constricting my breathing but it’s not mine.

“Good to know we’re on the same page.”

“Y/N,” Sam chides me from behind the vampire, “he’s not the enemy here. He can help get rid of Walker like you’ve been wanting.”

“I didn’t mean kill him!” I shout at him, “sure he’s annoying and pushy and the worst hunter I’ve ever seen but that doesn’t mean that he needs to die.”

Sam gives me a blank stare, “how many times has he sent you to do some crazy shit where you’ve almost gotten killed?”

I don’t answer. He’s not wrong; Walker has sent me on several suicide missions, Peggy being the most recent but most certainly not the last. Once again I can feel someone else’s emotions rise in me, squeezing the life out of my internal organs as they try to crawl out. Stealing a glance at the vampire, I see that his face is contorted with anger but he’s trying and failing to hide it.

I swear to all things holy if this is somehow his doing.

“It’s not for certain that Steve will kill him,” Sam adds.

The vampire before me shoots me a concerned look before looking over his shoulder at Sam, “I hope you’re joking.”

“I didn’t say he wouldn’t make him wish he was dead, just that he might not kill him.”

The vampire turns to me again, “it’s up to you, Y/N.”

I furrow my brows at him, confused about how he knows my name.

“That’s the least of your concerns,” he shoots back as if I’d said it out loud. I didn’t think I had but I shake it off.

“Give me the anti venom first and then I’ll decide.”

“That’s not how negotiations work.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck? Anti venom and then I’ll decide if I’m going to sell my soul to the devil.”

He rolls my eyes at the dramatics of my statement, “it’s not that easy.”

“It really is.”

“No it’s not,” he says sternly and I want to fire back more but he continues, “Helmut was right. Whatever anti venom we find won’t work on you. What you need is damn near impossible to get unless you’re willing.”

“And what do I need to be willing to do?”

Sam tenses and shoots nervous glances between us. I narrow my eyes at him and then look back to the vampire, repeating my question.

“Drinking the blood of the vampire that infected a moral can reverse the turning process only if they’re in the midst of it.”

“Peggy’s dead, how does that help me?”

The vampire doesn’t seem to even register that I asked a question, “Do you know what mates are?”

I blink at him, “excuse me?”

“Do you…”

“Yes I know what they are, why?” I snap and interrupt him.

Annoyance flashes in his blue eyes, “the mating bond doesn’t awaken until a mortal has completed the process. There have been a few cases where it can happen during. If that happens, the blood of the vampire mate can reverse it but it severs the bond completely and can kill the vampire. It’s like taking out our hearts and expecting our blood to keep pumping.”

“Well you don’t have a beating heart so…”

“You get the point,” he snaps back.

“What does this have to do with me?” I ask while looking between him and Sam. The latter is already looking at me with a mixture of sadness and… hope in his dark eyes. Whatever hope he’s placed in this vampire is sorely mistaken and he’d be better to place it in our Guild Master John Walker.

The vampire’s watching me, studying me for any indication of what I’m thinking or feeling. It makes me uneasy to have his full attention on me but I can’t show it. Instead I drop my feet back to the ground and cross my arms over my chest as I repeat my question, “I’m not a vampire nor am I in the turning process so what do mating bonds have to do with me?”

“You are in the process. Stopped, frozen, or slow, you’re still turning and since you killed the one who infected you, the mating bond is the only way to save you.”

I laugh.

I laugh so loud and so hard that both men flinch. I laugh so long that my chest hurts and my lungs burn. Tears prick my eyes and my entire body aches from how long I laugh. When my laughter finally stops and I’m clutching my sides, I look between the two men. Neither mirror my amusement and it’s only slightly concerning.

“What?”

Sam shakes his head, “this is serious, Y/N.”

“I’m well aware that this is serious but you can’t seriously believe that I would fall for any of the bullshit he’s spewing.”

The vampire flinches slightly, “I’m telling the truth. What reason do I have to lie?”

“Oh just about a million,” I scoff before standing up, “my head is starting to hurt again, is there somewhere I can lay down?”

The vampire doesn’t respond but Sam stands too and leads me out of the room. Hurt beings to deep into my chest and it twists around inside me, causing a deep ache to start throbbing.

“He’s trying to help you,” Sam says softly with an edge of disappointment.

“But why? Sam, he’s Bucky Barnes, the right hand of the Captain’s Guard. He has no reason other than his own selfish ones to help us and I can’t trust just that.”

“Then trust that your mom and I trust him.”

I stop dead in my tracks, “as far as I’m concerned she died that night and your word has come to mean nothing to me.”