#Ferally running around my brain help

[inumbrapugnabimus-maybe]

But not green.

You know the song Mr. Jones? Yeah.

[jtoddsbabymama]

jason todd headcanons //nfsw + possibly sfw?// \\18+ mdni\\

[this is my first time doing headcanons or something like this in general, if there is typos or tips pls tell me 😭🙏🏽]

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

- ¡Jason Todd! Getting pussy drunk when eating you out after a long night of patrol, all you can hear is murmurs and groans escaping his plumped lips. His chin glistening with your juices and his saliva, while a smirk plastered across his face as you cum on his face, satisfied with the mess you made.

- ¡Jason Todd! Having a size kink makes my brain go feral. This man would have a smirk plastered on his face as he sees his cock poking the inside of your stomach as he pounds into you.

- ¡Jason Todd! Praising you as you give him a blow job while you struggle to take him fully due to his size. He would say things like: "You're doing such a good job, taking me so well." or "You're doing so well babygirl."

- ¡Jason Todd! Rought sex yes. But slapping you in the face? Or choking you? No, he might be rough gripping your ass or hips tightly and hard but he never grips to hard to hurt you, he wants sex to be enjoyable for you and him both.

- ¡Jason Todd! Always, will ALWAYS! make or give you a safe word if it's too much for you to handle. No matter how rough or gentle the sex is, he always makes sure you're comfortable.

- ¡Jason Todd! Loves to give you backshots, to see your ass jiggle with each thrust he does. Holding your hips tightly to keep you in place whenever you squirm.

- ¡Jason Todd! Touchy. This man is TOUCHY, every second he's around you his hands are on you. It's either your thighs, hips, ass, or waist, doesn't matter his hands will always touch your body.

- ¡Jason Todd! Aftercare? Oh yea, HEAVY on aftercare. Jason's aftercare is something to make a girl fall deeper in love with him. He's gentle with you, he pampers you, running a warm bath for you, picking you up and helping you into the bathtub and helping you bathe. He makes sure you're ok, he'll ask you "I wasn't to rough was I, baby?" while helping you put on his shirt and helping you into bed.

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

This is the end. I'm so sorry if this is short, it's my first time doing this i ran out of headcanons ideas, i hope next time it'll be longer 😭. ANYWAYS, have a blessed day. 🫶🏽

[rinhaler]

Yooo, your plug!sukuna x reader fic has got me so feral imgggg

And it got me thinking

imagine Yuuji and Sukuna double teaming you???

this is not canon buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut... it is hot so hope u like this hehe

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, incest (itadori bro's sharing u), double penetration (one hole), degradation, praise, cheating mention, bruising, hair pulling, oral fixation, daddy kink mention, spanking, squirting, creampie.

words: 1.1k

“B-Baby I- fuck. How could y-ou? Fuck him of all- all people?” Yuuji wonders, fingers gripping into your sides deeply. You’re bound to bruise. With the way he’s fucking you and squeezing into your supple flesh, you can practically feel the broken blood vessels forming purple blooms with every thrust into your squelching cunt.

It isn’t deliberate.

He just wants you to remember who you belong to.

“’m sorry!” you cry, tears pelting down onto the mattress below as he batters your interior again and again. “I didn’t mean t’ fuck him.. I didn’t—!”

“Aht aht. None of that,” Sukuna speaks, his fingers lacing through your hair and yanking enough to elicit a pained yelp from you. Your eyes shimmer as you they reflect the stare of red irises that have become so easy to manipulate you. “Wasn’t like that when you were crying for me to ruin you, was it? In fact…” he pulls out his phone and quickly finds the home made sex tape he’d made without asking.

“D-Don’t…” you sob, though you don’t have it in you to really fight him. He pushes his thumb by the seam of your lips in a bid to shut you up. And in your cock drunk, dazed state, you begin to suck like a baby with a pacifier. You clench around Yuuji as the video begins to play and you hear how loud you’re moaning for your boyfriend’s elder brother. The sex was phenomenal and you’ll never forget it for as long as you live. “Remember this? Hm?” he questions as he swipes to a certain point of the video.

“Want you to br-uuise my c-cervix, daddy.”

You scream, a trail of drool connecting his thumb to your tongue as you can’t help yourself when Yuuji spanks your ass. He’s seen it before, of course, but it doesn’t make it any easier. God you sound desperate, and in that moment, you were.

“Think it’s okay to f-fuck my brother? Huh? You were meant to say no.” he reminds you. He pulls your back into his chest and holds each of your wrists in his hands and keeps them near the small of your back. And he uses them, for leverage, as he fucks his length into your weeping slit. “Beggin’ for him to bruise your cervix like that? Had no idea what a little slut you were. You want him to fuck you again, don’t you?”

“N-No!” you lie. You’d love Sukuna to ravage you again. To make a complete mess of your insides and churn your brain into mush. You don’t want to think about anything but getting destroyed by him and Yuuji.

You feel so spoilt.

Sukuna doesn’t say a word as he gets closer to you. His length runs through your folds and nudges your clit as Yuuji keeps you pinned in place. Your face twinkles as the light reflects off of your tear stricken cheeks.

Yuuji slows down as Sukuna helps you angle your hips.

Though you aren’t sure how it’s only just dawning on you now what is happening.

Sukuna’s heavy mushroom tip begins to split your cunt further open. Each yelp and cry silenced by Yuuji as he smothers your mouth and whispers into your ear.

“Shhhh, baby, you can take him. You’ve done it before, yeah? Good girl, sh sh sh…” he consoles you. His hands grope your tits and his lips smother your neck and shoulder in soft kisses as he tries to distract you from the stinging stretch being inflicted upon you. “That’s it… good fucking girl… you can take us both, yeah? You wan’ us to fuck you stupid, yeah?”

You hum, unsure if you’re agreeing or not. Nothing is really making sense when all you can focus on is the fact you’re somehow accommodating two Itadori cocks at once.

“Look at you… elastic little cunt.” Sukuna snarls, laughing as he drinks in the sight of you being double stuffed like a porn star. He grabs his phone, taking a quick picture so that Yuuji can see the view he’s seeing.

“Woah… you’re so good, baby. Takin’ us so well.” he praises, kissing the skin behind your ear before slowly rolling his hips again.

“Don’t fucking praise her yet, haven’t even moved.” Sukuna starts, his hips begin to move too. Their thrusts are off beat and your heart begins to pound. You aren’t getting a break to get used to the feeling. The tempo of their mismatched thrusts has your vision whiting out. Your head lolls backwards onto Yuuji’s shoulder as they continue to ruin you, and you swear you can’t breathe.

You aren’t sure if you’re even there.

“M-Maybe we should slow down,” Yuuji tells Sukuna, his hips already slowing before he finishes his sentence.

“Fuck that.” Sukuna grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him. Drool spills from your lips and your eyes can’t focus. But he knows you’re listening and he knows you’re looking. You’re in there somewhere, enjoying this. “We already know you’re a whore so don’t act shy now.”

“’m g’na c-um.” you manage to squeak out even in your dazed state. “H-aah!” you struggle, but your pussy does all the talking for you. The sound of liquid spilling out of you is deafening. The suctioning and squelching sounds that follow are just as boisterous as they continue to pound into you. And just as you think your high is drawing to a close, their sloppy thrusts pick up the pace.

Another stream of liquid gushes from your cunt as they abuse your sweet spot in independently. Your head falls forward onto Sukuna’s chest, now. And he uncharacteristically cradles the crown of your head as you rest there.

Yuuji lets go of the singular wrist he’s still holding so he can focus on fucking into you. And he does, loudly. His moans are raucous as he empties his balls into your greedy hole.

Sukuna soon follows, hissing through his teeth as he spills his seed soon after his brother. None of you want to move, least of all you. You’re still clenching around them both while you rest against Sukuna’s chest. Yuuji begins to kiss at your shoulder, telling you how perfect and beautiful you are. And you shudder when his kisses trail down the column of your spine.

The elder brother is silent as he pants, stroking your hair repeatedly as he contemplates what just happened. But he hurriedly moves his hand away when he sees Yuuji look up at him.

“Knew she could take us,” he smirks. “Your girlfriend’s a perfect little whore.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[satoruhour]

gojo nuttin in you and plugging you up!!!!

a/n: request: “I’m sure you’ve probably done something about it but the way that the idea of gojo coming in you and pulling your panties up after is so IRBDJEHDBEBSBNS makes my brain numb no thoughts off the walls feral” + so im combining these two! uhm. horny devil took over me while writing

warnings: fem!reader, reader is deep in sub-space, semi-public sex, multiple rounds, pet names, calls you ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, lots of cum, n*sfw under the cut

no one really knew where this breeding kink of gojo had come around, not when he was the student talking about how annoying kids were and then got blessed with megumi and tsumiki.

he’d like to think that it wasn’t because he wanted to see little yous and hims running around the house. sure, it definitely was in his future plan, but with everything going on it would be too chaotic, so he’s willing to wait. it unveils itself to him one night after cumming deep in you; it related more to his possessiveness over you—

it rings true when he’s got you riding him in his office chair, the pleasure of his cock deep in you overtaking the discomfort in your thighs. you’ve been holding back for the longest time in the meeting with the higher-ups and the other sorcerers, unable to stop your glances toward your boyfriend while they talked of another emerging curse user.

you jumped him as soon as the meeting was over.

“f . . fuck, baby,” gojo’s breathless as he says it, a thumb to your clit and drawing languid circles. it only prompts your pussy to clench around him and your head falls down to your connected bodies. “hear how sloppy your fuckin’ cunt is, sweets.”

you can both hear and see it, see the drag of your pussy along his length and the pleasurable stretch of your walls around him. your hands go around his neck to play with his hair, messing with the abandoned blindfold resting along his clavicle.

“were you this wet for m-me, for the whole meeting?”

your scrunched up eyes struggle to open as you meet his blue ones, a choked yeah leaves your lips as you continue to bounce on him. there’s sweat lining both your bodies from the clothes still inhabiting your persons, slowly getting soiled from your juices, too.

“oh, baby, you know i would’ve dropped everything to fuck you then and there—” satoru grits his teeth when you tighten around him again and you moan out loud at the words he says. you’re not even sure whether you came, thighs shaking from your mini orgasm that you limp forward into your boyfriend’s arms.

gojo coos into your hair, doing the work now as he fucks into your spent body. the slap of his balls against your ass is obscene, whining into your ears before he starts to rut in short little thrusts again. “cumming— cu—”

gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, hiding his forehead in your neck as he spills deep in you. a deep groan reverberates from his throat, feeling his cum feel you up spurt after spurt and you’re the same, mewling softly beside his ear that only gets him hard again.

“that’s right, take all my cum, baby.” gojo mumbles, drunk on the feel of your pussy before he remembers he has a class to get to.

“you gonna keep my cum in you?” he asks breathlessly, a little softer than he expected to. but his heart soars when you nod obediently, letting him help you put your other leg into your panties. his cum still threatens to spill out, but it’s still better with the fabric barrier.

gojo is disgusting like that, “i’ll see you at home, alright?” he taps your butt playfully, landing a sloppy kiss to your lips and indulges you with a few more pecks.

that one feeling hasn’t left him since the afternoon, determined to pump you full again that he couldn’t even conduct a class properly. all he wanted to do was to rush back to you, with a sweet reward granted to him.

you were so dazed from his cock that you decided it wouldn’t hurt to put on your favourite set under your clothes, tending to your own errands as you wait for your boyfriend to return. so when you’re welcoming him with more touches than usual and a sultry voice to match, he knows he wasn’t the only one with that creampie on his mind.

you aren’t sure what round you’re on by now, pussy feeling so slick and full from how much he’s cummed in you that your mind is fuzzy and muddled.

“like it when i breed you, hm?” he slams into you from above, bed creaking from just how rough he was being. he’s got your body pressed deep into the sheets and your ass up and as usual, he’s got your back arching uncomfortably.

“y— yeah, yeah, s’much, ’toru!” you whine into your hands, feeling your orgasm approach again as you feel like you’re driven to your limit everytime and yet you come back for more. gojo is quick to cum again, cock stilling in you as he pumps you yet again and the sight is so messy.

your ass and pussy is painted with white and gojo grins seeing your hole push out his seed. he purses his lips, scooping up his cum and pushing it back in. and then he’s got you on him again, thrusting into you from below. the strings of his cum stick to your pelvis, paired with your cum pooling at the base of his cock. it’s so sticky and lewd, the squelching sounds of pussy.

“can never get e-enough, of pumping you full, princess.” you groan into thin air, juices spraying everywhere from the sheer amount of it.

“love it— wan’ more, pleasepleaseplease.” you’re out of your mind, driven into oblivion and you think that this truly was your limit, sobbing out your lover’s name when he starts to rub circles along your clit and you’re squirting, hips bucking away from the overstimulation and you grab onto his forearms like a vice.

“good little slut . . mh, squirting all over my cock— s-shit—” you’re cumming so much he can feel it on his thighs, soaking his skin and sheets. the grip you have on his cock is insane, making him so difficult to move that he grunts and stammers, pelvis faltering with a twitch to his dick.

“going to— give you another load, baby.” he mumbles breathlessly, giving one last deep thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your skull and body trembling and you’re so deep into sub-space that you just let him manhandle you roughly. satoru’s hips snap up into you impatiently before he’s cumming deep again, mind turned into mush once ropes and ropes of cum is pushed into your womb. you feel so full, so dumbed down that you don’t notice him scrambling for something in the bedside table.

“got your slutty pussy somethin’,” he whispers. the first pull out of gojo’s cock is gross, a translucent sheen of white covering his shaft from how much he’s cummed in you before he removes himself completely. you gasp at the emptiness, sinking behind into his embrace before you feel full again.

a cute little toy takes the place of his cock, a baby blue plug that is stuffed deep in you and possessiveness is starting to turn into wanting to get you knocked up. gojo isn’t sure any more.

your boyfriend prompts you to look down, caressing your thighs as he hums into your ears and you shiver lightly.

“need you to keep every last drop — can you do that, baby?” you feel him smile against your lips when you turn your head to kiss him, an affirmative response muttered against his lips together with a confession.

tagging @hyomagiri @jabamin @shotorus @satohruu :3

[ptolomia]

To the rescue

Summary: Hotch and Y/N go to an UnSub’s Storage Facility to try and catch him, Instead they find themselves trapped in a storage unit alone.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Shameless Smut, Unsafe sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLS), Oral( F receiving), Praise, Degradation, Semi-Public sex, Sir kink.

Word Count: 1.5k

You were so fucking close to catching this bastard, you and Hotch had decided to take the riskier location, his family’s storage warehouse. Aaron had sent you through the back of the warehouse as he entered the front, you were met with emptiness, the air felt damp and you were shrouded in darkness, your flashlight rendering itself useless, The darkness that had caused you to blindly stumble into a unit, shrieking as the unit closes in on itself. You hear Hotch panic through your earpiece. “L/N? Where are you?” He says, the rasp in his voice betraying him. “I-I don’t know.” You say, holding back tears, “I- my flashlight wasn’t working and I stumbled in.” you continue. “Wait there,” he says softly, his tone laced in urgency.

It seemed like hours before you heard the unit open, seeing him through the sliver of brightness that his flashlight had provided. You watched as he slowly cascaded to you, reaching for your hand and preparing to pull you both out until you heard the all familiar sound of the metal door slamming against the concrete. “Fuck!” you curse, feeling defeated. He shushes you, pulling you to him. “We have to focus, okay? For all we know the UnSub could very well be here. Can you calm down for me?” He says, his voice and tone is soft and soothing. Slowly he reaches for his flashlight, turning it on and scanning the room, you breathe a sigh of pure relief when you spot a light switch. Tugging on the string you watch as the room fills with light.

Smiling, you reach for the door, thinking maybe — somehow it would open; that somehow it would free us. Obviously it didn’t work. You were still trapped, stuck in an UnSub’s storage unit with the most attractive man alive — your boss. Your thoughts however, halt as you hear feet scraping the pavement, you and Hotch look at each other realising that this could very well be the UnSub.

Not wanting to give yourselves away, you took several steps back. With your back pressed into him, he simultaneously covered your mouth, masking your breathing. As if things couldn’t get worse for you two, a bigger problem arose when your skin pressed onto his and you gasped. Gasped is an understatement, you moaned. You feel his body stiffen behind you. “Is that how you want to play this?” He whispered in your ear. You could barely focus on listening to the UnSub’s actions over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest. A mix of arousal and fear as you melted into Aaron. His free hand now around your waist while the other remained on your mouth.

Whatever thoughts you had left had seized when you felt something on the small of your back. In a stroke of brainless fluidity you moved against him, trying to see if you could elicit a reaction from him. A moan, or groan, another whisper in your ear that’d make your thoughts run wild; but instead you got something far better.

He grabbed your hips, stopping you from moving; then he whispered in your ear, “Y/N stop. You’re not helping the situation.” He sounded so desperate and feral. It made you want to fuck his brains out even more. The next few moments were a blur of you either grinding on each other or something of the sort. Still, the second the sound of footsteps had stopped lingering Aaron flipped you around making you face him. Before you could even process everything that was happening his lips were already burnt into your neck.

Then he moved lower, searing his lips onto your skin, basically marking you as his. He travelled even further, nibbling at the skin of your collarbone and undoing the velcro of your vest. Throughout all of this your gasping never stopped, your fingers had even found their way to his hair. You felt amazing, you chuckled slightly as he pulled away to throw your vest on the floor. He was losing his control and that excited you; the fact that you had that power over him felt heavenly. He was losing his mind over you.

Without the confines of your vest, Aaron’s hands had travelled beneath your shirt, unclasping your bra and reaching for your chest in a split second. Lifting both off he reached for your slacks next, undoing them before practically ripping them off. He fell to his knees, stopping right between your thighs, he looked up at you. Rubbing your inner thigh he finally broke his silence, “Are you sure you want this?” he asked as if he didn’t know you did.

“Because I’ll let you know that once this starts, I won't stop, once this starts you’ll be mine.” He whispered against your thigh. You looked down at him; meeting his gaze, his intense, needy, desperate gaze. “I want you to fuck me, Sir.” You whimpered, pouring whatever was left of your confidence out and into the air.

Without saying anything else he pulled your panties off. Once he managed to free you he wasted no time in shoving his face between your thighs. His tongue landed on your clit and your eyes started to water. It felt amazing, heavenly, it was unlike anything you’d ever felt. Most men could barely even find a clit, let alone please it. But Aaron wasn’t just any man, he was yours, and he was about to make sure of it.

“Sir!” You whimper, tugging at his hair. “Fuck, love, you sound so damn pretty. Moaning for me like a bitch in heat are we?” He rasped, digging further into you with his fingers.

“Fuck I’m gonn-” he cut you off at the edge, withdrawing his tongue and fingers. The motion made you cry, “Please,” you beg him. “As fucking hot as you sound you’re not cumming yet. The first time you’re doing that for me it’s going to be around my cock.” He says, his voice dropping an octave.

He quickly undid his suit pants, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. You tried to think of something other than how badly you wanted him. But the only other thing your brain was fixated on was how big he was. You imagined he’d be well ‘equipped’ but you hadn’t thought that he’d be this big. Your thoughts ceased when he picked you up, wrapping your thighs around his waist he lined himself at your entrance.

He looked at you, waiting for some kind of approval. You nodded slowly at him, watching as his eyes filled with lust. He sunk into you. You felt him through every inch of yourself. You felt so full, you were practically overflowing. Tears welled into your eyes from the sheer pain of being stretched so wide. You stayed like this for a few seconds, he waited for you to adjust, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Tell me when you want me to move sweetheart.” He reassured you.

After a few seconds you slowly whined, “Move, please sir.” you said, clenching around him to get your point across. When he started moving it felt like a portal to the heavens, the way he moved inside you was like he was made for you. He sped up, hammering inside as you screamed for him. “Wrap your arms around me. That’s it baby, good job” he moaned into your ear the words made you clasp around him. He was fucking you like a god. He thrust up into you in long hard strokes; ones that had your legs shaking, your voice trembling, lewd sounds slipping off both your hips.

You screamed his name for what felt like the hundredth time, but that didn’t stop him from fucking you faster each time his name fell off of your lips until finally. “Aaron!” you moaned louder than ever tightening around him; letting what felt like every ounce of cum in your body spill out and onto him. You buried your head in his shoulders. You stayed like that for a few moments, his thrusts softening as he slowly pumped you full of him. Slowly he pulled out ass he kissed you.

You were both dishevelled until you remembered your ear pieces, repositioning yours you pressed slowly to turn it on. You’re both bombarded by the worried voices of your colleagues. “Where are you guys? We caught him, he fled to his house from the storage units?” You heard Spencer speak, “Guys? Are you there?” Kate followed and you finally spoke, “We’re okay,” you said, “I got stuck in a unit because my flashlight broke and when Hotch came for me we both ended up trapped. We didn’t hear you guys there’s barely any signal in this box.” You said, continuing on. Slowly smacking Aaron’s shoulder as he stifled a laugh.

“Oh, okay do you want us to come get you?” Spencer once again spoke, “That’d be great, Spence.” you said before Aaron finally speaks, “We’re in unit 1713, Thanks Reid.” The conversation ends as you pick up your clothes.

Before you were dressed Hotch stopped you, pulling a handkerchief from his suit pocket he knelt again, cleaning you up before helping you slide your pants on. While he buttons you up you slide your shirt and vest back on. Just in time since you hear feet scraping the pavement and you realise they’re there. Slowly, you and Aaron kiss, pulling away just before the team opens the door.

[xoluvx]

lunch; b.eilish .˚₊✩ part three ✩₊˚.

yeah, she dances on my tongue

part two

Billie couldn’t stop thinking about what had transpired a few nights ago. Your relationship hadn’t seemed to change. You were still friendly and bubbly and goofy, but her heart fluttered when you cuddled while watching a movie or when you'd bend down in front of her. As innocent as it was, her mind couldn't help but wander.

The first thing on that contract was still engraved in her brain. I will not fall in love with my best friend.

Then why were you the only thing she thought about now? And why did she have flashbacks every time she looked at her fingers? Why could she only picture the way you looked when she touched you and how you moaned for her? You fucking moaned for her.

Maybe it was just lust and the fact that she’d never done those things with a girl before.

“Earth to Billie,” you waved your hand in front of her face. Billie blinked before turning to look at you. She held an arm around your body as you reached for more popcorn from the bowl.

“You missed like half the movie,” you informed turning to look at her finishing the popcorn in your hand. Billie watched as you licked your fingers and maybe she should’ve been grossed out, but she was strangely turned on. So much so you felt her shift on the couch and you looked at her quizzically while wiping your hands.

“You okay?” You asked sitting up and stretching. You moaned when your hands reached above your head. Your t-shirt riding up showing skin. Billie felt like a feral rat at the sight of your skin. It’d been too long since the first time you’d let her touch you. Because that couldn't have been the last time.

“When’s the next lesson?” She asked bluntly causing your brows to furrow.

“Oh. I thought you had your dose,” you teased leaning back on the couch crossing your arms.

“I think I still have a lot to learn,” she replied scooting closer, placing her arm on the back of the couch. You looked at her with a devious look and nodded.

“You’re right,” you agreed.

“You want to learn how to eat pussy?” You asked and Billie nearly chocked on her own saliva. She coughed covering her mouth. And you smiled with satisfaction.

“I’ll demonstrate first,” you smirked pushing her back on the couch. Billie swallowed nervously allowing you to push her body down.

She thought she’d been forward when she brought it up, but not like this. Not in the slightest as you slid her sweats off. Billie hummed as the cold air hit her thighs. Chills coursing up her spine.

“These-“ you marveled pulling on the side of her lace thong. “-are so slutty. Were you planning on getting some tonight?” You asked teasingly looking at her as you supported your weight on the couch with the palm of your hands, your knees pushing down on the cushion.

Billie blushed, biting her lip and shaking her head. She hadn’t exactly not planned it either. It'd just been wishful thinking.

“You gotta tell me what you want Bils,” you hummed noticing her silence while running your hand along her hip pushing up her hoodie to reveal the rest of her tattoo. You remember when she got it. How you held her hand and she winced biting her lip the entire time; it’d almost bruised.

“Mm,” Billie couldn’t help but moan. The implications in your touch were overwhelming and lustful. She was right, it was just lust and it was a relief that you felt it too.

“It’s only okay if it’s consensual. Add that to your notes,” you teased removing your hand from her skin.

“Touch me. Touch me pl-please,” her voice cracked as she grabbed your hand placing it on her thigh. She didn't see how you smiled to yourself when she closed her eyes. She was showing you a new side to herself. A side that Billie, frankly, didn't know she had. She'd be on her knees begging if she didn't prefer her legs being opened right now.

"You have to open your eyes, how are you going to learn?" your voice was sultry, but playful as you fisted the fabric of her hoodie, the other hand tugging at her underwear. Billie opened her eyes lifting her hips so you could slid off the pesky fabric that stood between her throbbing pussy and your tongue.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked settling yourself between her legs. One leg was draped against the couch, the other hooked under your arm preventing it from falling off the couch. Yeah, there was no going back. She was one hundred perfect sure of this.

"Yes," she nodded bunching her hoodie giving her an excuse to hold on to something while your head lowered closer to her pussy.

Billie groaned softly when she felt your finger run between her folds. She was soaked, she knew it. She'd felt it. As soon as you walked through the door of her house knowing you'd be cuddled up on the couch, she'd knew she was going to have to clean up her mess with or without you. She was just glad you were cleaning it for her.

"Are you always this wet?" you asked in a tone that indicated it was mainly to yourself. Billie bit her lip at the comment. To be honest, she'd never had someone between her legs. Scratch that. She'd never had someone's face between her legs. And she'd never thought you'd be the first.

The thought only made her pussy throb harder, it almost hurt.

Billie looked at you questioning the hold up.

"You have to build up to the moment," you informed placing a kiss on her thigh. Billie winced and quickly relaxed when you kissed lower and lower until your tongue ran between the space that connected her thigh and her pussy. There was a whimper coming from her body now. The anticipation was killing her. Even if your tongue never touched her, she could live with this memory and be content.

But thank god she didn't have to do that because soon enough your lips were wrapped around her pussy. Right at the top lowering until you were at the base of her pussy. With your tongue sticking out, it ran between her folds so painfully slow.

"Oh my god," Billie huffed feeling her chest tighten.

Your eyes closed feeling the reaction shock down her thighs when they quivered. Billie struggled to keep her eyes open when you moved. You removed your tongue repeating the motion again, opening her folds with your tongue lapping her built up.

She saw the way your eyelids fluttered, intoxicated by her taste. You ran your tongue along your top lip like you were showing her exactly what was to come. Spoiler alert: it was her.

You let go of her thighs and they slumped on the couch weakly. Billie was having a hard time holding herself together.

She watched as your fingers pried her pussy open. She clenched and she swore she heard you moan from witnessing this monumental event. Your tongue was flat when you lowered your head and ran a stripe from the base of her pussy to her clit.

"Mmm," Billie muffled her whimpers while biting down on her bottom lip. Just like she'd done when she got her tattoo. You repeated that motion again and again until her legs were closing.

"Keep your legs open," your voice muffled by her pussy.

Billie nodded still fisting her hoodie. She watched as your tongue focused on her clit. The warm sting coursing through her body as you circled your tongue before flicking.

She thought the first time she touched you, she'd be able to taste you. Maybe she'd been a little ambitious considering nothing had happened since then. That's not to say she hadn't thought about it since. She thought about it constantly. And it's not that she hadn't wanted to taste you that first time. She'd wanted to. So bad. But it was one thing fingering your best friend. It was an entirely different thing having your tongue up their pussy. So she digressed.

But now your tongue was in her pussy like actually. She could feel you filling her up, your nose pressed on her cunt.

She didn't think she could come close to making you feel the way you were making her feel right now. You were glorious with your tongue.

Truthfully, she could cum on your tongue right now. Fuck, she wanted you to cum on her tongue. She wanted your thighs to smother her face. She wanted her fingers in your pussy, her tongue on your clit. She wanted to make you feel the way you were making her feel right now.

"I want to cum," Billie's breathing was heavy. She could hardly get her brain to function. It took every ounce of her strength to declare her impeding orgasm, but you simply shook your head vigorously. The flat of your tongue mimicking the motion on her aching clit.

"I'm not done. Hold it," you instructed holding her thighs pulling her closer to your face. She could feel her walls clenching around your tongue. She felt a tightening sensation unlike no other. She felt like she was going to physically erupt if she didn't cum right at this very second. So she tried closing her thighs.

"Be a good girl and hold it," you snarled hooking your arms tighter around her thighs keeping them open. Fuck, did you just call her a good girl? You weren't making this easy for her.

Your tongue lapped her pussy, rotating, flicking, slurping and good god your fingers were in her pussy. Is this what heaven looked like? Billie felt her eyes roll to the back of her head. She grabbed your head no longer able to control her urge.

"Cum on my fingers," you muttered before sucking on her clit, your fingers pumping in her pussy.

Billie was gasping for air, you didn't have to tell her twice. She let herself unravel on your fingers. A string of moans escaped her parted lips as she shook in your hands. You rested your head on her thigh as you felt her walls cave around your fingers. You curled them and she winced when you made eye contact.

"Fuck, that was-" Billie inhaled deeply resting her hands on her open thighs. "-so hot," she exhaled watching the way your lips curled into a smile. You pulled your fingers out of her, they were dripping and your tongue licked them like it was your favorite ice cream. Billie watched through hooded lids and bit her lip.

"You can't do that and expect me not to fall in love with you," she teased, but her voice sounded more seductive than she'd intended. She noticed the way the comment knocked the air out of your lungs as you tried to mask it by rolling your eyes.

"You can make any girl fall in love with you if you learned anything from today," you responded playfully sitting up.

"I don't remember, can you show me again?" Billie's voice was playful, but her choice of words were meticulously chosen.

"Shut up," you laughed tossing her sweats at her.

"Get changed and use the bathroom," you stuck your tongue out and watched as she struggled getting up from the couch. Her legs felt weak and her pussy was still throbbing remembering all the ways your tongue and fingers had touched her.

She pulled up her sweats and leaned down to face you, her arms resting behind her back. She pursed her lips and, as if you'd done this millions of times, you cupped her face kissing her. The kiss lingered longer than either of you probably intended, but it was nice. It felt warm and tingly feeling your lips on hers again.

Lust didn't make you want to kiss your best friend after having her tongue and fingers in your pussy like it was the most normal thing, Billie thought.

Lust didn't make you jokingly tell your friend you'd fall in love with her either.

It wasn't lust.

[sadhours]

better than ever

Steve Harrington x f!reader

cw: smut, 18+ minors dni, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex

Just something to remind y’all I’m still here ❤️

—

Dehydrated. That’s how you feel. In the middle of the hottest month. Sticky and too warm and a little exhausted as you lay back on the bed. Hands tangled in sheets, trying to catch your breath as Steve licks you through what you think is your third or fourth orgasm of the day. In the haze of pleasure, your brains a lot fuzzy and Steve’s insatiable. Big hands gripping your thighs, moaning into you as he ruts against the damp sheets. He’s still dressed and you’re struggling to keep your eyes open.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me,” you mumble out, pushing his head away.

He hums, nips at your thigh before he sits back, smoothes his hands over your hips and grins wolfishly down at you, “They don’t call me King Steve for nothing.”

A roll of your eyes before you close them, unable to hold back the laugh. It’s a line. An absurdly dumb one so you say, “Nobody even calls you that anymore.”

The line worked though, you’re flushed and smiling ear to ear.

“Oh?” he squeezes your hips, “The first time I got you in bed you were screaming it. Remember?” He moans out mockingly, “Oh! King Steve! Yes! Right there, King Steve.”

You lazily kick his chest and roll over onto your stomach, reaching for a cup of water Steve so considerately placed on the nightstand for you. “I hate you,” you lie, feeling his hands grope your ass as you gulp down the water.

“I love you,” he mumbles out, voice sounding dazed as he jiggles your asscheeks in his hands. Then he squeezes and you feel his lips on the small of your back. Brings chills all the way up to the nape of your neck, makes you sigh before gulping down some more water.

After placing it back on the stand, you tell him, “Give me a break. Just a small one.”

“Five minutes?” he replies with a pout and you laugh, sit up and get your wobbly feet on the ground.

“Like an hour?” you offer as you turn around to look at him. He flips onto his back, looking pathetic as he puts on his best puppy dog face. Then your eyes skirt down to the tent in his pants. Ah. You can help him out. It’s only fair.

You smile and crawl back onto the bed, rubbing his hard on over his jeans as you kiss his lips softly. Steve hums, all pleased as he kisses back. You unbutton his jeans and he helps getting them wiggled down to his ankles. Your hand returns to the bulge, not as constrained by his briefs and you drag your tongue across his bottom lip. Earning a whine from him as you squeeze his cock just slightly. Steve makes the prettiest sounds. So soft and sweet. And the exhaustion you’d felt before dissipates. You want nothing more than to please Steve. Moving your hands to his stomach, you start pushing his shirt up and he gets the idea, helps pull it over his head and then he’s grabbing you for another kiss. This one is more hungry and desperate. Has you both writhing against each other and swapping muffled moans. Your hands run up his chest, skin soft and speckled with moles. They meet the tuft of hair decorated there, something you’re a little obsessed with. Makes Steve so manly. Sometimes you find yourself rubbing your face against it, loving the way it feels.

“Still need a break?” he mumbles against your lips, all smug.

You move your hand back down to his cock, squeeze it again and tell him, “Something needs my attention.”

“All yours,” he gasps, hand grabbing your waist before he licks into your mouth. Nasty in a way that’s unlike him. But he’s been particularly feral today.

You kiss down his jaw, neck, chest and abdomen until you reach the elastic of his briefs. Mouth his cock over the cotton, eyes up on him. His lips parted, soft groan slipping through as he rolls his hips up. Probably can’t help himself. With the way he was humping the mattress while he ate you out, you’re shocked he didn’t cum in his pants. Then again, Steve’s always had incredible stamina. Can fuck your for hours before he cums. Or if he does, he’s usually good to go again in an impressive time.

But you can’t wait anymore, you pull his underwear down and the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen springs out. Long, thick and curved just right. Pretty pink tip, leaking beautifully. Trimmed curly brown hair framing the thing. It’s a sight you’ll never tire of. Steve’s beautiful. Every goddamn inch. And he’s got a lot down there. You admire for a moment before you’re licking along the vein, then sliding your tongue against the edge of his head. Focus on the sweet spot for him and Steve’s moaning out, all pretty for you as he writhes against the bed.

You kitten lick against the spot, blinking all wide eyed up at him as he gazes down at you dreamily.

“You’re so pretty,” he tells you, breathless.

You laugh, “You just saying that ‘cause I’m licking your cock?”

“No,” he gasps, “You just look extra pretty doing that.”

“So sweet to me,” you pout, wrapping your hand around the base of him. You spit, saliva dripping from your lips onto his flushed tip and down the side of his cock. You stroke him then, smearing the natural lube all over his cock. Slow movements of your hand up and down, gathering more saliva in your mouth before you lower your head and wrap your lips around his tip. Steve groans, hand immediately knotting into your hair and tilts his head back.

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut as you take him deeper. You use your hand to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth, drooling down his length. Squeezing your eyes as the tip of him reaches the back of your throat, breathing through your nose as you get used to the stretch.

And your core aches now. You long to feel that stretch inside your pussy. Growing wetter by the second as you bob your head up and down, sucking when you get to the tip. Steve’s cock pulses in your mouth, you can feel it against your tongue and it makes you hum. The vibrations have Steve moaning out, tightening his grip on your hair. You squeeze your thighs together, suddenly desperate for friction. But this is about Steve right now. He’s been spoiling you all day.

You lower your hand down and cup his balls, rolling them in your palm as you suck on the tip of his cock and he keeps spewing these pretty noises and a little bit of nonsense. Stutters and compliments he can’t quite get out because it just feels too good. They break off into moans.

“That’s— oh, god, baby— you’re so fucking goo— ahh, oh, fuck…” he babbles, “Holy f— that’s it, you’re such a good girl…”

You pull off with a pop and satisfied smile, glad you can make him fall apart as easily as he can make you do it, “Yeah? All for you, baby. Just wanna make you feel good. Am I making you feel good, Stevie?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods, eyes flickering down to watch your hand stroke his length. “So good. Fuck…”

You lick the tip, all exaggerated and as slutty as you can be. Slap it against your tongue as you look at him with wide eyes and knitted brows. He whines, a broken and pathetic sound that makes you feel powerful and also, so full of adoration. He’s perfect, all easy for you. You suck him into your mouth again, go down as far as you can. Struggling to breathe, eyes closed again as you swallow around him and Steve’s panting, groaning and tugging on your hair. Cants his hips up delicately, still enough restraint not to totally fuck your face. Gentle but needy.

“Christ,” he grunts, eyes crossing as you softly squeeze his sack. “Shit…. Baby… fuck.”

Then you pull off again because you’re needier, more than desperate for him. You hook your leg over his hips to straddle him. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you grind down against him. The length of Steve’s cock catches on your folds, slides through them and coats his cock in your slick.

“Need you,” you confess, “So bad.”

Steve surges his lips up to yours, hand on your hip and the other on his cock. Guides the tip to your entrance and when it catches, your pussy sucks him up desperately. You sink down on it, the pair of you moaning in eager relief. Then you’re grabbing his face, holding it as you gaze down at him and wiggle against him. Once he’s fully sheathed inside, it’s like no other feeling. Complete, full and so deliciously hot. You sloppily kiss, riding him a little uncoordinated because you’re so desperate.

“Fuck,” he manages to mumble out against your lips, both hands on your waist as he guides you.

“Stevie,” you whine, pleading for more.

“So fucking wet for me,” he pants out, a hand grazing up your back to hold onto the back of your neck as he thrusts up into you.

It’s electric, the way you two move together in synchronized rhythm. As you grind down, Steve jerks his hips up. The sweaty, slapping sound fills the room. You keep your grip on his jaw, pulling back from the kiss just to look at his gorgeous face. He meets your gaze, looking as dazed and euphoric as you feel. The stretch is always a little difficult to get through but you’re so on and Steve looks so goddamn pretty that it makes it almost frictionless. It’s easy, it’s perfect. Complete.

Steve whines, moves his hands up to grab your face, too. And the pair of you are just staring at each other, bodies as close as they could be. Tangled in the most beautiful way. Sloppy movements because you’re both a little lost in it. Can’t be as coordinated due to the drunken love taking over. Sensual and lovely, you feel so connected to Steve. Almost overwhelmingly so.

“I love you,” you gush, can’t keep it inside.

He reciprocates, easy and just as heartfelt, “I love you.”

Your skin is sticky with perspiration and you're so wet, slick leaking down to Steve’s sack. He whines and strokes his thumb against your lower lip, and you suck it between your lips. As you're sucking on his thumb, you grind down against him. The tip of his cock stroking wonderfully against the sweet spot tucked deep inside you, the spot only Steve can reach. His eyes darken, watching you salaciously sucking his thumb.

He pulls his digit from your mouth and crashes your lips together, flips you on to your back. Kisses you passionately and filthy, uses his hands to spread your thighs. Grinds down into you deep and wonderful, holding your legs open for him. His face gets all screwed up, nose scrunching and eyebrows knitting. Then Steve’s thumb is catching on your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves as he kisses you sloppy and needy.

Steve knows exactly how to touch you, he’s perfected it. Down to a science, this boy can make you cum in seconds if he wants to. And it seems like he’s determined so he must be close. As he moves his fingers against your clit, you clench around his cock. Hands messing up his hair as you slip fingers through his locks, grabbing and moaning out for him.

“Fuck, Stevie…”

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” he asks, voice a little higher than usual, “Can feel you squeezing me, you’re close, huh?” He kisses you gently, rubs his fingers in circles against your clit faster and you whine, nodding up at him. It’s building quickly and abruptly and he’s so pretty, you can’t stop looking at him.

When it hits you, it’s intense. Has your eyes prickly with tears, your hands grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss. Steve kisses back with just as much intensity, fucks you through the orgasm. Your eyes roll back before they close and you’re squeezing onto him for dear life. Stunned by the euphoria, makes you cry out. Repeatedly chanting his name.

Steve tucks his face against your neck, thrusts hard and deep before his hips still and he’s shooting his release into you. Hot and thick inside you. Makes you whimper, grab onto his sticky back and pull him close. He starts kissing against your neck and up your jaw and to your lips.

Pushes your hair back as he pulls away to look at you, fondness clouding his eyes as he tells you, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Stevie,” you hiccup back, all smiles.

[froggibus]

The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding. 

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something? 

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little. 

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro.  He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball. 

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks. 

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact. 

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him. 

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: HE’S SO F**KING BIG THAT HE COULD CRUSH YOU & YOU LOVE IT (18+) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: I came up with this on the fly thinking of getting pounded into my mattress by Zoro & how big n strong he is. He’d probably leave me all bruised & achy but it’d be totally fine with me! This is for the girls who adore the big bois. Enjoy! -Jazz

*******

“You’re…so…big…and…strong!”

Each word was punctuated by a thrust by your boyfriend hovering over you.

Correction: your very big, very strong, very sexy boyfriend hovering over you, his dick filling you to the brim and his big, veiny hands pinning your knees to your chest. You love it when he does this. When he shows you just how strong he is.

You can’t help but tell your man what he already knows, panting and raggedly moaning out this statement as he puts your ass straight into the mattress. A big, prideful smile stretches across his handsome face shining in sweat from constantly, roughly fucking your pretty brains out of your head.

“Yeah?” He teasingly asks. “Does my baby love gettin’ pinned down and fucked by her big, strong man?”

He speeds up, fucking you at a pace that has your pants and heavy breaths increasing. His cock seems to stretch you out every single he plunges back into the velvety, wet walls of your pussy that squelch and clench around him, gripping him and keeping him there inside of you.

“Yes!” You damn near scream out. “Yes, I fucking love it! I love gettin’ fucked by you, Daddy!”

You grip his hard, broad shoulders and pecs you could motorboat forever, digging your nails into his skin as he fucks you harder. Faster. Rougher. He smiles down at you, leaning down to press a passionate, searing hot kiss to your lips. “Good girl,” he whispers against your mouth.

He then tosses one of your legs over the other and begins to fuck you from the side, driving you up against the bed. Thank God the pillows are above you because your head would be knocking against the headboard at this point…but it is knocking against the wall every time he drives himself into you with all the energy and force he can muster.

You love it when he gets this feral. This uncontrollable. This unbound and unbridled with his strength. You can’t get enough of it! The way he can toss your body and limbs around like a salad, rip your clothes off (which he has), and use you as he wants to is everything you want and need.

You love feeling his big body on top of you, feeling his weight pressing down onto your body while your feet dangle from his shoulders and his dick pummels into you.

You love feeling his big arms wrap around you, making you feel oh-so small yet safe, his bulging veins prominent underneath his skin. You can’t resist the urge to run your fingers up them every time he snakes them around you or to tell him to squeeze you more.

He often gets nervous when you tell him to do this, especially during sex, but he does it, squeezing you to your little heart’s content. “Is this okay?” He would ask, concerned. “I’m not hurting you?”

“No!” You’d squeak out, smiling contently and feeling like a boa constrictor was hugging you. “Harder please!”

But you especially love it when he flips you over without even asking (because he knows you want it) and drills your shit from behind. His big body mounts you and his calloused hands grip your hips as he drives his hips into you again and again and again.

Sometimes, he forces you into his favorite position (face down, ass up) and locks your legs in with his powerful thighs while pounding your pussy from behind, sending you reeling like you are now. He has now tossed you onto all fours, ass tooted up and face pressed into the bed. His hands dig into your hips and the flesh of your ass that you can tell you’ll have bruises tomorrow.

But you don’t care. You can’t care. Not when the sex is this fucking amazing. Not when your pussy is squelching and dripping and gushing and singing around his beautiful, thick, fat, veiny cock.

“You’re the only one I do this for,” he pants out, transfixed by the way your ass bounces against him and the way your pretty pussy takes him. “Only you can make me this fuckin’ insane.”

You want to tell him the same thing. That his big body and even bigger muscles make you absolutely unhinged. His ripping abs. His bulging biceps and pectorals. His thighs that look like they could crush watermelons and you. The way his size and height make you feel so small even when standing next to him or lying in your bed with him which he sometimes makes you feel is doll-sized.

He’s just so goddamn big!

But your tongue is too tied and your words a babbling mess to reply. But he don’t give a shit. One of his big hands move to grip your throat while the other smacks your ass, leaving it stinging. “Give me your fuckin’ words, baby,” he huffs. “C’mon, my dick isn’t leavin’ you that speechless, is it? Let me know how you feel.”

And so you say the only words on your mind as your orgasm quickly begins approaching: “I-I-I love you!” You sob, open-mouthed and bawling into the mattress.

He doesn’t answer immediately, but when he does, you can tell he’s smiling: “I love you too, baby. Now make that slutty pussy cum for me.”

And as usual, when you cum, you cum hard all around his dick. And when he finally cums for you, he pins you down underneath his body and fills you to the brim with all of him. “Take it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ take all of me, baby!”

You do. You don’t have a choice. He is right on top of you, forcing you to take all of his cum deep inside of your pussy. By the time he finishes, you are both exhausted and his nut drips down your inner thighs, creating a pool between them that stains the sheets beneath you.

With a sigh, your man gently pulls out of you and flops down beside you onto his back. You turn your head toward him and admire his toned body with muscles carved from steel and stone glistening in sweat and adorned in the afterglow of a good, rough fucking.

Noticing your eyes on him, he turns to you and smiles, love and all the affection all woman could want in his eyes. “Okay?” He asks.

You tilt your head up and press a small, loving kiss to his lips, exhausted, achy, and oh-so satisfied. “Okay,” you sigh.

Dedicated to: Zoro, Bakugou, Geto, Gojo, Grimmjow, Sukuna, Law, Shunsui, Shanks, Toji, Aizawa, Ichigo, Nico, Kirishima, Nanami, Worick, Fatgum, Draken, Choso & any other beautiful, big man I’m missing lol

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Upper Hand

Feyd Rahtha x Wife!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut, threeway? fourway? I lost count-way, orgy, oral, praise, dirty talk, light bdsm, Feyd ‘talks you thru it’ Rautha, light degradation, somnophilia (kind of, but it's something y/n specifically asked Feyd to make happen for her)

Words: ~ 1.3K

Description: Based on this request: “I seriously need a Feyd x his wife x his darlings-”

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

You whimper, shifting in your sleep and attempting to roll onto your side. You’re met with resistance, unable to move. A short panic bursts through you as your brain sluggishly processes what’s going on. The bed is unusually warm, and a tingling pleasure is building between your thighs. You breathe out a moan as a tongue prods at- 

“FEYD!” Your eyes snap open to yell for your husband. But when you sit up, you find Feyd sitting on your couch. He’s lounging, silky black robes open to expose his pale chest. Two of his darlings sit on either side of him, eyes taking in every detail of your predicament. You immediately whip your head to see who is eating if you out instead of your husband. Another darling is between your thighs, pausing her efforts on your cunt to cheekily grin. 

“Good morning, love.” Feyd says. “Well-I certainly hope it’s a good morning for you.” His gaze flits down to the darling who has begun kissing and lapping at your cunt. 

“Ah-” you gasp. “Feyd, you didn’t.” A shiver of thrill runs up your spine. A few weeks ago you had confessed to your husband one of your most well kept secrets. Feyd had listened to your desires, expression never changing. At the time, you were worried that he was disapproving of your wants or just didn’t care. 

“Happy anniversary,” he purrs. “Our darlings were so taken with your filthy, little, wet dream that I almost couldn’t make them wait until our big day.” The darling at your core hummed as she sucked your clit into her mouth. The wave of pleasure lights your every nerve on fire.

Another moan wrenches from your throat as the darling flicks at your bud with a practiced tongue. You try to say something, anything to thank your husband for spoiling you with such a surprise. But the nearing orgasm is enough to leave you unable to focus. 

Feyd groans, “what a sight. It’s almost like this is more a gift for me than it is for you.” Your head collapses back as you pant and gasp out. Hips grind down into the darling’s face and she falls into your rhythm. Your orgasm crashes down on you, and your legs shake as they clench around the darling’s head. “That’s it, pet.” Feyd purrs. “Come for us. Let me hear what a good job your darling is doing for you.”

You push at her head, trying to get a break as a wave of overstimulation hits. She relents, pulling away to kiss and nip your thighs. A moan of pain and pleasure slides from your lips at the feeling. “Don’t you dare leave a mark,” Feyd hisses from his perch. “You may be here for her, but you answer to me.”

The darling halts her movements, “yes na-Baron. Forgive me for overstepping.” 

He hums in response before turning his attention to the darlings at his side. “My darling wife looks tense, why don’t you both help her relax?”  They both slink towards the bed, hungry expressions and feral grins making you gulp.

The taller darling captures your lips in a kiss that is nothing short of teeth and aggression. She bites at your lip and steals the very air from your lungs. A hand slides up the back of your neck, winding into your hair before sharply pulling. You yelp as your head wrenches back and mouth falls open. The darling responsible for pulling at your hair immediately attacks your exposed throat, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Gasps fall from your lips, and the taller darling steals them with each brutal kiss.

“I want to see every inch of my wife as she falls apart,” Feyd orders. “Spread her out for me.”

The darlings flit about, one pulling you to the edge of the bed while another sits behind you to prop your back up against her chest. Her hands lock behind your knees, pulling them up and spreading your legs wide. You whine in embarrassment and try to shut your legs, but her grip is firm. “Feyd, please,” you gasp, “I feel so exposed.”

“Why don’t we fix that then?” 

Feyd tosses the black ties of his robe to the darling in front of you. She hands on to the darling behind you, who ties it to blindfold you. Your hands move up to push the blindfold, but they’re caught by one of the darlings. She binds your hands with the second tie, pulling back your bound hands. Your back arches to accommodate as she loops them behind the head of the darling at your back. 

You’re utterly helpless to their grasping hands. With your legs held open, arms tied behind you, and sight taken….you’re completely at their mercy. You’re not sure whose hand slips between your spread thighs to tease your clit. The cool air makes your skin prickle, and you shiver at the chill and the sensation of a tongue running up your stomach and to your breast. One of the darlings, or perhaps Feyd, kisses at your breast, sucking your nipple into their warm mouth.

“You’re just the picture of desperation, my love.” Feyd’s voice rings from behind you. Or is he in front of you? “Cunt dripping, soaking the bed sheets.” His voice has moved, you’re unable to track him down. He has to be walking around the room to throw you off. You moan as a mouth replaces the fingers at your clit. “Three people at your disposal, and you’re still unsatisfied? Who knew na-baroness was such a greedy little whore.” 

You audibly moan at Feyd’s words. He knew how to press your buttons like no one else. “My love, please give me your cock. I need it,” you beg. 

“No.” he denies. “I have no intentions of fucking you tonight until everyone here has had their fill.” A hand slips down to join the mouth that torments your clit,two fingers sliding into your sopping cunt. It can’t be Feyd’s…they’re too soft, too short. Regardless, they fuck into you with an eagerness that leaves you breathless. 

The darlings hands roam your body; holding you in place, teasing, pinching, plucking, fucking. Your head swims as your orgasm builds. You’re unable to place whose hands belong to who. The only grounding force is Feyd’s voice as he paces, purring filthy praises as you tremble. 

“Are you close?” Feyd teases. “Don’t answer that–of course you are.” You whimper, the muscles in your thighs twitching as your peak builds. “Anyone could tell you’re on the edge,” he murmurs. “The way your breath hitches, the little pants and gasps of pleasure.” You whine at his words. He’s not wrong, you’re hanging by a thread. “I can practically see your cunt twitching around those fingers, trying to suck them deeper.”

Your back arches harder as you try to grind down onto the fingers fucking into your cunt. “Just let go, my love. Or does my helpless little pet need my permission?”

A whine slips out and you can practically hear the smile in Feyd’s voice. “Oh, isn’t that precious,” he purrs. “My filthy pet is trying to be good for me.” He goes silent for a minute and you turn your head to try and find him, despite the blindfold.

“Do it, love. Come for me.” His voice appears in your ear as he bites harshly into your neck. Your eyes roll back as you finally fall over the edge. The noises around you dim to a soft buzz as you seem to float away from it all.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed, but you find yourself blinking as light hits your eyes. “My love,” you tilt your head up to ask for a kiss, and your husband leans down to comply as he tosses your blindfold away. “That was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, “because you owe me two more.” 

NOTE: "Lacie, can you go two posts just writing about monogamous couples?" Apparently not! I'm making sure Y/N is BOOKED AND BUSY lmaooooo. But also apologies for all the changes on every post! I've been reworking the layouts lately. I have two more requests to finish before they open back up again! I can't wait to hear all the filthly, fun ideas ya'll have for me. ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @cant-even-think, @alisasyniashina, @clocksonthewall79, @cubehorse

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

[astarionancuntnin]

Meet Me In The Woods

summary: it's astarion's turn to keep watch for the night. everyone's off to bed and he's still gone hunting and nowhere to be seen. you refuse to be the one to fill in for him again, so you venture into the woods looking for where he was last seen.

rating: E

word count: 2.9k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, sorceress if you even care)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, feral astarion, fingering, teasing, slight knife play, forest sex, reader is tied up, rough sex, possessive sex (if you squint), vampire bites, blood drinking, PiV, primal play, praise kink (would it really be an astarion fic otherwise?), creampie, soft ending.

a/n: so this started out as a second chapter to my last fic and uh. well, youre here now, you know as well as i do that this aint chapter 2 BUT rest easy, im ALSO working on that. i do not control the goblin in my brain whos thirsting over astarion. ENJOY

read on ao3

or keep reading down below, ya freak (you and me both bestie)

If you could only see the beast you've made of me

I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound

I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground

-

After an exhausting day spent fighting battle after battle, your friends and you spend some time relaxing around the campfire. You chat for a good hour before some of your companions start heading to bed, and that’s when you notice one of them is missing. 

Astarion. 

He had a habit of going hunting most nights to get his fill, which was necessary since you didn't always let him have his way with you, but tonight, he was taking  longer than usual. Everyone else tried to reassure you that he was fully capable of handling his own, but you couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about it ; your intuition was rarely wrong. And so, you ventured into the woods looking for him.

The woods were especially dark at this hour of the night, even with your flame cantrip in hand, there wasn’t much you could see around you. You had never taken a walk alone this late, and there was something about the sounds of the forest that made you uneasy. You were only getting further from the camp and any chance for your call for help to be heard, if need be, was getting smaller. The rustling of leaves and wood cracking near you drains you of any courage you had left.

You turn around to look at the direction you’re sure the sound was coming from and see nothing, only to turn back around and be face to face with Astarion.

“GODS, Fuck!” you jump, losing your flame in the process, startled at his sudden presence. You allow yourself to take a few breaths, dropping your hands to your knees to get a hold of yourself, before questioning him. “What is wrong with you?!”, you glare at him.

You breathe out deeply one last time before getting back up to eye level with him, still waiting for an answer from him. The moonlight shines almost perfectly over him, allowing you to forget about your flame for the time being. There’s something off about him though, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. He speaks up only to ask you a question himself.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is husky, very different from his usually high-pitched tone, you notice. He’s eying you hungrily and his stance is rigid.

“What do you mean? Do you know how long you’ve been gone for? I was–” you stop yourself before finishing. He just pissed you off, you weren’t just going to admit that you cared for the pretentious prick. “We were wondering if you were fine.”

“Worried about me, dear?” His lidded eyes pierce through you, as his hand moves to hold your chin between his thumb and finger, his face nearing yours.

You’re lucky the dim light of the moon isn’t enough for him to see the blush creeping over your cheeks. You scoff and push his hand aside before backing away, trying to conceal your flushed state. “I’m not worried about you, you have the first round for watch duty tonight and I was making sure you would be back on time, so I don’t need to cover for you again.” 

“Of course, darling,” he says, with a skeptical tone.

You quickly come to the realization that this was a waste of time. He didn't deserve your energy, or care, and you should’ve never come looking for him in the first place, “Well, alright, I’ll leave you to it then, just– don’t take too long.”

As you turn around to leave, he makes his way right back in front of you, surprisingly fast, stopping you in your tracks, “Hold on, little love. You’re not just going to leave me hanging like this, are you?” He tilts his head, his eyes watching your every move.

“What? No I– I came to check up on you, and clearly you’re fine, so I’m going back to the camp now and I'll keep watch in the meantime, you just take the time you need to finish hunting.” You try to move past him only for him to raise his hand insistently, blocking you again.

“Oh, but I think I’m done now.”

Your breathing stops momentarily and your eyes squint, “I’m… not sure I follow.”

“Well,” he steps forward, making you step back in return, “I was hunting, rather successfully, might I add,” he keeps getting closer to you and you almost trip over a branch at your feet as you back away, “Until an inconsiderate, little sorceress made her way into this very forest, quite loudly,” you back up against a tree as he towers over you. “So you can imagine my dismay when all my other potential prey made a run for it,” he lifts your chin to meet his gaze again. “All, except for one.”

Your heartbeat quickens and your entire body freezes. Your eyes flicker in fear and you feel a shiver go through your spine. It takes everything in you to mumble the next few words, “Listen, I– I’m really sorry I made your meal run away, okay? You can feed on me tonight.”

He chuckles menacingly, “That was implied, my sweet.”

You feel your legs shake in anticipation and a warmth blossoming in your stomach. You’re… looking forward to this?

Your intuition is telling you that you're in danger and yet you remain still. Shouldn’t you be making a run for it? The camp is not that far away, if you just managed to slip past him…

As if he read your mind, Astarion takes a hold of your waist with one hand to pin you to the tree you were back against, restraining you under him, “You’re not going anywhere, pet, ” he growls, before crashing his lips against yours.

The kiss takes you by surprise and you instinctively moan in his mouth. It’s rough and hungry, with his tongue looking for yours, probing your mouth, tasting everything you have to offer, leaving you breathless. A part of you wanted to touch him, get a hold of his luscious curls, pull him in closer, but as if you were under a spell, you remained paralyzed, your hands holding back against the very tree he was pushing you against.

If any part of you wanted to run before, it’s all gone now. If he was going to drink you dry tonight, you would greet death’s embrace with open arms. 

It’s nothing a scroll of revivify couldn’t fix, right?

As the kiss deepens, you feel his body pushing against yours and his hips bucking forward, his already-hard bulge rubbing you both through your clothing, making him groan in your mouth. The motion turns you into a mess, your underwear getting drenched from your arousal. His fang nicks your bottom lip and you whimper in pain as he sucks on it, getting a taste of your blood. He pulls back from you to eye you down and you can see the dangerous lust in his eyes. His hand leaves your face to grab a hold of his trusty knife that he raises to your neck. You lift your face up, trying to pull away from the weapon as he trails the tip along the side of your jawline softly, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The adrenaline is coursing through your veins and it’s like he can taste it in your blood left on his lips, see how your breath quickens and sense your blood pumping furiously, fearing what he might do to you.

“Please– you don’t need to do this, think of what the others will say if I don’t come back to camp,” you plead.

“You need not worry, my dear,” he lowers his knife down your belly and slides it under your shirt, ripping the fabric apart inch by inch as he brings it back up to your chest, exposing your warm, soft skin to the cool night air.  “I plan on taking very good care of you,” he whispers, in the hollow of your neck.

He carelessly drops his knife on the ground next to you and gently caresses your skin, making his way up to your breasts. You close your eyes and sigh, letting yourself get lost in his touch.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he sighs in your ear. “It really isn’t fair that I don’t get you all to myself every night.” He leaves a trail of kisses from your ear to your shoulder, leaving playful bites around your neck, while his hands roughly massage your tits and give them the occasional pinch that makes you whine. The fear you previously felt leaves place for arousal, pooling at your core. You want more, you need more. You need him.

You push yourself against his touch and rub your aching cunt over his leg, “My, my, is my little pet hungry, too?” He removes your pants in one swift move and his hand wanders down, sliding between your legs.

“ Ah–!”, finally your reflexes kick in and you raise a hand to your mouth to muffle your screams. Just as quickly, Astarion takes your hand away and pins it above your head.

“Tutut,” he purrs, “I want to hear every sweet noise you will make for me.”

His fingers make their way inside you and he picks up a painfully slow rhythm. Each thrust makes you lose yourself even more and earns him a moan out of you. You simply melt under his touch. He thrusts once more, deeper, only to remove himself entirely.

“No! Astarion please–” you start begging him, wiggling under him as he still firmly holds you in place. The loss of his touch is simply unbearable.

“Please what? ”, he hums, sucking on his fingers to taste your juices.

“Please, please touch me, take me, I need to feel you, I– ah!,” you cry out as he nibbles on your nipple.

“I’m terribly sorry little love, it’s awfully unlike me to play with my food,” he coos, wearing a malicious smile.

You groan in frustration. He was toying with you and you felt yourself grow impatient at this game. You try to fight your way out of his grasp with your free hand only for him to grab it and pin it next to the other one.

“Mh, I have a few ideas,” he takes a hold of both your wrists with one hand and reaches into his back pocket to pull out a bundle of rope. “I might finally get a use out of this damned thing.”

“Well, I can’t have you wiggling like that, can I?”

“What are you gonna do about it?”, your own audacity surprises you.

He gracefully ties your wrists together above your head and with a strong push, throws the rope around the tree, and secures the tie around your hands. You try again to free yourself, unsuccessfully wriggling out of your bounds, before you sigh in resignation.

“There, you look perfect. My little treat on display,” he takes a step back to admire his handiwork. 

He’s simply too far and you need to feel his skin against yours. If he wasn't gonna touch you, you would touch yourself. You remember how his fingers felt inside you and you start rubbing your thighs together subconsciously, trying to ease the ache throbbing between your legs. You feel yourself dripping along your leg from excitement when you see him undo his belt.

“Do you think you’re ready for me, my sweet?”, he lets his trousers fall on the forest floor before stepping out of them, freeing his already-leaking cock.

“Gods yes,” you lack any self restraint anymore, your pride be damned. Any coherent thought was out of the door the moment you saw how hard he was, you could only imagine just how full he would make you feel.

“Mhm, we’ve made you wait long enough, don’t you think?” he asks, rubbing his length against your entrance, getting himself wet from your juices.

“Mmmhng– I– ah– I fucking swear Astarion if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll- Ahhhh!” You’re cut off by his grip on your hips lifting you up before roughly thrusting into you.

“Gods, you’re so tight,” he growls against your neck as he makes you bounce on him.

Each thrust hits you deeper in your womb, he feels so much bigger than you expected. You pull on your restraints, searching to hold on something as you throw your head back, each bounce scrapping your back against the tree you were tied to. The pain from the bark roughing up your skin mixed deliciously with Astarion’s tight grip on your hips.

With your neck now fully exposed, the vampire eagerly licks the sensitive spot on your neck in anticipation, “You have no idea how much I want to eat you whole. ”

“Do it, bite me, ” you pant. “Take everything you need.”

That's the only permission he needs to sink his sharp teeth in your pulsing vein and start drinking you up. You cry out at the initial pain ; the feeling never ceases to surprise you. The cold lingering feeling of his fangs entering your neck combined with the warmth of his cock pounding you is such a unique yet heavenly experience that soon enough, all pain you felt turns into pure pleasure. You're simply unable to speak anymore, your only form of communication left being your moans and cries for the pale elf ravaging your body.

“Oh fuck, keep making those sweet noises for me, gods- you feel so good,” he hisses, pausing his drinking to take in the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

Your blood drips from the fresh wound on your neck down to your breasts and Astarion licks the trail back up to its source, where he bites a second time to keep savoring your essence. You feel yourself losing consciousness as your vision is getting darker, and he stops drinking from you, sensing your weakness. He growls as he takes his last sip from you, ripping out his teeth from your flesh and lapping at the blood from your fresh wound, “You’re doing so good for me, little love, so so good.”

His words of praise are like a balm over your wounds, a soft embrace after the pain you went through and it strengthens the build up between your legs. He feels you clench around him and he knows he's just as close as you are, all he needs is for you to let go.

“Come for me now love,” he breathes against your ear, "let me hear you scream for me, I wanna feel you come around me.”

His last words hit you like electricity throughout your whole body. You feel yourself clench around him, enveloping his cock in the warmth of your womb. With a few last frantic strokes, Astarion releases himself inside of you, holding you tightly against him. He rides out the waves of pleasure still surrounded by your warm embrace, moaning in the crook of your neck. He embraced you strongly allowing you to come back from your high in his arms. You swear you could see stars before your eyes. The world had gone silent. Your mind went blank.

You’re brought back to reality by the vampire releasing you from his grasp, carefully dropping your legs. You’re absolutely spent. Your entire body feels heavy, if it wasn’t for the tight rope around your wrist holding you up, you would have fallen to your knees. You don’t even wanna think about the trail back to camp. If you didn’t have any ounce of decency left, you’d let yourself fall asleep in the same position he left you in. 

Astarion notices your tired eyes flicking open, fighting the urge to fall asleep right there and then. He laughs quietly at your state, feeling quite the opposite after drinking from you. He holds your face softly, lifting it up slightly to meet his eyes.

At least, you didn’t end up covering for his round this time.

“Shall I carry you back to your tent now, my sweet?”

Your nod mindlessly, as you’re too exhausted to give a better answer. He takes a moment to untie your bounds and lay you on the ground before putting his pants back on. He pulls off his shirt and puts it on you instead to cover you from the cold forest breeze. It’s the least he could do after tearing your own shirt apart. He grabs your pants that were discarded just minutes ago and swings them over his shoulder before swiftly picking you up. He carries you back to camp, where a dimly lit fire awaits you both. Thankfully, all your companions are fast asleep and you’re saved from the embarrassment of the situation. Astarion lays you down on your bedroll and pulls a blanket over you. He pulls your hair away from your face and gently strokes your cheek, before walking away and sitting around the fire. You open your eyes to see him trying to light it back up. You watch the light of the newborn fire reflect on his pale, sweaty skin, a dreamy sight that you take in before letting yourself drift off to sleep.

[elsfairy]

✧ ˚. SERENE ⎯ ABBY ANDERSON

Abby is so sloppy & messy when it comes to eating you out, especially after a hard day on patrol. having you sprawled under her, whimpering and gripping the bedsheet tightly with your free hand, the other tangled in her blonde locks, gripping on for dear life. your shaky legs over her shoulder, and she’s so loud. moaning, and growling against you, damn near making out with your cunt, keeping you down & still on the bed with nowhere to go. your slick and her spit is shamelessly running down her chin, to absorbed in the way you taste to care about how she looks. she’s got both her hands perched on your hips, moving up to grip your tits in her much larger palms to give them the same attention, pinching your nipples between her rough fingers, enjoying the sounds she tears from your parted, puffy lips. loves the way your legs tighten around her head, how your hand grips the back of her head, keeping her there & where you need her the most. her heart swells with pride at your little gasps for more, at the way your body twists & trembles under hers because only she can have you like this, see you this needy and whiny. she is always pussy drunk on you, no matter the time or day. she would have you naked, sprawled out on her bed, and begging all the time if she didn't have such a busy schedule. she needed every last drop of you, and then some. “c’mon baby, keep making all those pretty sounds but let me have more. missed you so much today”

yes, she’s fucking feral for eating you out, but when you sit on her face? baby girl is losing control. there is nothing she loves more than to have & feel your thighs tighten against either side of her head, fingers threading and pulling at her hair. the grip she had on your hips is always tight, almost iron to keep you in your place and take everything she gives you like a good girl. if her hands are still, then they are moving around so much that it sends your head into overdrive, feeling them running up and down your sides, to your ass where she leaves random slaps on your plump flesh, squeezing tightly just to hear your pretty sounds. Abby loved the way your own hands would hold onto the ones she had on your thighs, or hips just to feel that extra close to her, rocking your hips a little hard against her tongue, those pretty sounds leaving your lips so effortlessly just like you know she loves. if there was something else she loved more though, it would be guiding your hips, helping fuck yourself against her tongue harder, giving you whatever you wanted. if you needed it, she was going to give it to you. she loved to give you every single thing you ever wanted. her own words once before were always buried at the top of your brain “If you need something, take it. fuck yourself on my fuckin’ tongue”

[illyrian-dreamer]

Our girl – Part 7

Azriel x Cassian x fem reader

Summary: Azriel and Cassian go feral trying to find you.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Violence, torture

<<&lt; Part 6

Cassian was pacing, the roar in his mind loud enough to miss Feyre winnow into the room, her arm wrapped around an elderly fae, his bark-like skin unmistakable. 

“Finbark,” Tamlin greeted, moving to help the male into a seat as he leant into his walking staff. Finbark had aged during the war, and it was clear the long distance winnow from Spring to Summer was not easy to endure in his condition.

Azriel kept close to Cassian, but unlike his mate, his rage had fixed him to an icy steel. Arms folded at his chest, he was beyond pleasentries, unable to greet Finbark as Tamlin had. Not while his mate was still missing, not when he wasn't sure who or how many he’d kill to find you. 

The marbled room before him was filled with anxious tension. Tarquin had opened his home, with promise that his recruits had a lead on Y/N’s location. Finbark, Tamlin, Cassian, Feyre, Rhys, even Helion had come to support his friend. And while Mor and Amren worked with Azriel’s spies at the border, the rest of them were here, readying themselves for the essential intel to start scouting for his mate.

It was almost impossible to resist the urge to take to Autumn skies, to start ripping the heads of any guard or spy or missionary who served in Beron’s court. That instinct was outweighed by only one thing - Y/N’s safety. Start slitting throats, and Beron could easily follow the trail of blood back to them, and punish you for it. Especially in the ruthless, unforgiving manner that itched at both their limbs. It was better to wait for this lead - both he and Cassian had agreed. Better to know where to start the carnage before they set they world ablaze. 

Excruciating minutes had turned to hours, and both Cassian and Azriel were at their wits end. 

“Where is it, Tarquin?” Cassian gritted, his gaze an other-worldy darkness, unbound magic as bright as rubies twining his limbs. “You promised a lead.”

Tarquin’s face was a gruelling seriousness, one that Feyre herself had never seen. “Calm yourself, friend. It is coming.”

But that wasn't nearly enough to satisfy Cassian’s urge, so he turned from the male, driving his fist into a marble pillar, the thunderous smack silencing the room. Feyre threw Tarquin a sorry look. 

A maid entered then, hurrying to deliver a letter to her High Lord on a silver platter, before fleeing on quick feet – a wise move. 

Tarquin swallowed thickly while reading, not a breath shared amongst the rest of the room. 

“We have the name of the Inn, and the last known sighting of Y/N.”

Azriel’s voice was deadly. “We already knew that.”

He had snatched the letter before Tarquin could respond. He scanned it with quick eyes before raising them to Cassian. “This is different. Her last known sighting was underground.” 

Cassian’s eyes fluttered with rage. Naturally, Beron had chosen a concealed, subterranean lair to cloak his cruelty, making it even more challenging to locate his mate.

“It says here the entrance to the dungeons are glamoured, and are bound to an ancient magic.”

All eyes were on Rhys then. “Not even my magic can unbind that,” he said disappointedly, the tremble in his hands returning once more. Beron was a slimy bitch, and the thought of sinking his talons into his neck danced around in his mind.

“Then how the hell are we to find her?” Tamlin urged. 

“Hounds,” Azriel answered, looking over the letter once more. “Provided here are coordinates, where a pack will be provided to us for the search.”

“What in the Mother?” Rhys frowned, running a hand over his face.

“Who wrote that letter, Azriel?” Feyre asked, a knowing itch scratching at her brain. 

“It’s signed from Eris Vanserra.”

There were a few drawn breaths, and then silence. 

“It is a trap,” Helion said plainly. 

“Perhaps,” Feyre countered. “Perhaps not.”

“A trap would not be so wiling, so exposed,” Tamlin added. “I believe it is true.” He cast a look at Feyre, who nodded in agreement.

“And we are to risk everything on assumption alone?” Helion countered the male.  “When was the last time a Vanserra was celebrated for telling the truth?”

Cassian wasn't listening to their exchange, the General’s mind ticking as a strategy formed – for this was as good as war.

“Soldiers,” he said with a distant look, eyes finding his mate. “We need soldiers.” Be it a trap, he didn't care, between he, Azriel and the others, nor Eris’s or his phonies stood a chance. 

Azriel nodded in agreement. “Rhys, call to the camps. We need Illyrians.”

Rhysand didn't hesitate. “How many?”

“Hundreds.”

Helion shifted uncomfortably. “How many males do you plan to storm Autumn with? Power is one thing, but bring an army with you? You’ll start a gods damned civil war, right here in Prythian. Over a girl.”

Even as a High Lord, Helion stood no hope against Azriel’s strength, not as those siphons that usually kept his strength at bay now consumed him, pulsing in his veins, igniting his eyes with brilliant blue. 

Marble cracked as Azriel threw the him into a pillar, a snarl curled at his lips, canines inches away from his neck. 

“If you think my girl isn't worth waging a war for, you’re wrong. I’ll watch the whole of Prythian burn if she is harmed, and then some.”

Helion glanced around desperately, searching for an ally. But between Cassian’s fuming glare, Feyre and Rhys’s cold as night, and Tamlin’s own chest panting, he came up short. Even Tarquin showed no remorse.

“Please,” Finbark croaked from where he sat, his hands shaking as they rested on his staff. “Please, time is against us, we mustn’t waste it.”

Azriel withdrew at that, fingers flexing as he fought against violent urges. Cassian moved, his hand closing over Azriel’s scarred one as blue mixed with red.

Tamlin eyed the interaction curiously, before finding the letter from Eris on the floor, reading it over himself.

“The letter accounts for two females held in the dungeons,” he stated, slightly confused. 

Feyre blinked, her eyes fixed with Rhys as she paled even further. Forcing a breath, she moved those grey eyes to Helion. “When was the last time you saw the Lady of Autumn?”

Helion blinked, his brow then furrowing at Feyre’s suggestion. It had been longer than usual, he had counted the days. But he assumed she was keeping hidden, playing into their secret like she had always done. His hand intuitively found his chest then, rubbing at a gnawing ache, and panicked eyes found Feyre’s.

“Months,” he whispered, his chest tightening with every breath.

“That ache in your chest, friend. Has it not been a few months since you confided of your pain to me?” Feyre added.

Helion’s eyed widened. How could he have been so senseless? 

Pain turned to fear turned to an all-consuming rage, and feral eyes found Azriel and Cassian. 

“What was that you said of an army?”

————

The lethal point of that sword pierced through your clothing, its icy steel pricking at your skin, causing an immediate, searing pain. And oh gods, did it hurt. 

Your body, attuned to the peril through the bond, convulsed within, as if desperate to break free from your chest cavity, urging you to fight, protect, or flee as far as the gods allowed. In your anguish, screams and sobs erupted, fuelled by the intense desire to kill Beron, to snap his neck with your bare hands for even daring to harm you and your mates. Yet, the harsh reality held you at his mercy.

“STOP! I BEG OF YOU!”

Beron’s attention snagged to that voice beyond your cell, the weapon stilling as it lay pierced within your chest, stuck at your left breast.

“Please, Beron, I beg of you. I’ll rid of Helion, I’ll stay by your side. For the sake of the Mother, do not hurt this girl!”

Beron’s lips curled into a sickening smirk. “How brave of you, Seraphina my love,” he toyed. “How brave you become when finally faced with consequence.”

You had only a few seconds, but you used it to the best of your ability, calling on your power, begging it to fill your veins and swarm your skin. Your anger was of no question, but you were weak, and were only met with a faint tingle at your fingertips.

Cold eyes found you again, and you whimpered. 

Beron chuckled at the panic in your eyes. “Ah, sweet Y/N. Are you feigning fear, or do you really care for the bond?” He drawled closer. “Why would you have tossed them aside if you care for them so, hm?” 

His eyes darkened as he grappled at the sword again. “Try not to move,” Beron gritted,  teeth bared and he pushed with two hands now.

Your own howls and screams, Seraphina’s pleas and cries, Beron’s grunts as deadly power coursed through him – it was a hideous symphony of torture.

From deep within your chest cavity, death clashed with life, and so began the war within your heart. 

————

Azriel, Cassian and Rhys flew overhead, circling the location where Eris instructed to meet, scanning for traps while Rhys’s magic worked to unravel any glamours. 

Tamlin, Hellion and Feyre scouted from the ground, Tamlin in beast form, Feyre’s water wolves sniffing out the promised hounds.

They had left Tarquin to the border where the Illyrian army began to arrive, Mor and Amren with them. They would try to negotiate with Beron’s own armed forces while waiting on Cassian or Azriel’s word to strike.

Azriel spotted him first, ginger hair almost disguised amongst the matching tree tops. But it seemed the Autumn Princeling was true to his word, a litter of dogs leashed in his hand with enough apprehensiveness to be sensed from the skies . 

Three thuds were sounded as the males landed, stalking toward Eris with violent determination - the kind that sent most running. He spun quickly at the rustle of leaves, gulping at the three water wolves and Tamlin now prowling towards him, Feyre and Helion a few paces behind.

“Where is she?” Cassian spoke, his voice harsh and quick. 

“I don't know,” Eris replied, his own face grave. One of his hounds whined, and others pulled at their leads, desperate to start scouting. 

Cassian and Azriel shared a growl, unsatisfied with the answer. 

“No tricks Eris,” Rhys warned. “It wouldn't end well for you or your court.” And he meant it, because as he spoke, Mor sent images of the Illyrian soldiers now in formation at the borders of Summer and Spring, ready for their word, ready to tear the land apart to find you. 

“I am true to my word,” Eris replied, pulling slightly at the band of leather leashes in his hands. “I have trained these hounds in secret, since I first suspected of my father’s conspiring.”

“What you wrote of your mother, is it true?” Helion asked, voice desperate as an array of curved weapons and twining knives glinted in the sun – so unique to his own court.

Eris nodded morbidly, tears pricking at his waterlines. “I have let this go on for too long.”

No one offered him any comfort.

“And what do you get out of this, Eris? What is it you want in return?” Feyre had to ask, the lesson’s Alis had taught her all those years ago ringing through her ears. Make no bargain, help no one without knowing what the price might be. 

“This is beyond my own desires. My mother hasn't been seen in months, I suspect Beron has taken her. If she’s there, is she is… alive,” Eris had to pause and swallow before he could continue. “See that she is returned safely, and I will make it worth your while.” 

Looks were exchanged, before Rhysand nodded. “Will you be joining us?”

Eris’s eyes dropped, shameful shoulders slumping. “If he finds out I helped you, he’ll hurt me in unimaginable ways.”

“You coward,” Hellion spat, pushing past to grab at the Princeling. “You’ve known for months, Seraphina is down there, she–”

An outburst of agonising roars pierced through the forest, Azriel and Cassian falling to their knees, red and blue winking as they clutched at their hearts. 

“WHAT? What is it?” Feyre panicked, forcing Azriel up by his shoulders, scanning him over with wild eyes. 

Rhys was on Cassian, in his mind, digging frantically. “I don't know, I can't see past-”

Their screams intensified, their wings flexing and twitching with pain. Cassian howled as he clutched at the grass, and Azriel swore, barely holding himself up. 

“The-the bond!” he gasped. “Make it stop!”

Eyes were on Eris then, and he looked back, bewildered. “I don’t- I don't know what he’s doing! I don't know anything!”

As quickly as it had begun, the pain left their bodies, leaving the males sagged and trembling on the ground.

“We must move quickly,” Hellion murmured, eyeing Eris with distaste once more. 

Eris was already unleashing the hounds who began to kick and whine, desperate for their command. 

“Please,” he begged to Helion, his voice a mere whisper. “Please, bring her back.”

Cassian and Azriel had recovered quickly, forcing themselves to stand. They shared a quick nod, ensuring that the other was alright, flexing their wings and readying to take the skies once more. Whatever was happening, time was against them.

“Seek,” Eris commanded with a wavering voice, and the pack leapt into a sprint.

Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand launched to the sky, Tamlin heeding the hounds on all fours, and Feyre on Helion’s pegasus – an army of their own. 

Together, they would find them, or die trying.

————

You were loosing sense of reality, delirious with pain. You begged for it to stop, and then prayed for it to stay, to know that your bond wasn't dead, not yet. 

You were in and out of consciousness, your body blinking awake as Beron cut at that tether ever so slowly, not allowing you weaken or lay unconsciousness for too long. No, he wouldn't grant you that peace - he needed you alive, to withstand the torture, to survive, so his Seraphina could serve as his slave, mateless and obedient for the rest of her days.

“Stay with me now,” he gritted, slowly, oh so mind-numbingly slowly, forcing the rapier deeper into your chest, the bond whipping and lashing as magic clashed within, demanding warmth, demanding life. 

Your throat strained as you tried to scream, to exert just some of the pain that coursed through you – but no sound came out, your voice long lost amongst your cries and screams hours ago. 

Beron had assured you he was not trying to be cruel – that this careful extraction, and no matter how painful, he’d ensure you’d survive. Then you can die, for all I care - he had claimed.

As you thrashed, your mind flashed with memories of your mates, as if the bond or cauldron itself was showing you what was worth fighting for. Azriel and Cassian - each more handsome than the other. One of them wild, emotional, passionate and heated, the other a perfect match of icy calm, selfless, unyielding and determined. 

And you were a part of them, their anchor, the vessel where red met blue. You were what made them whole. And both of them flawed - oh so flawed. But their love was undeniable, unconditional, stubborn and powerful. You could see that now. You wanted them, you needed them, and if Beron was to break this bond, you did not want the life that awaited you.

So you fought with the little energy you had left, forging the bond to a weapon of sorts, sweat trickling as you writhed and grunted, your heart an open battlefield. 

Beron let out a frustrated roar, his rapier met with another bout of resistance, your bond swelling to provide a wall of magic he would again need to pierce. But it was draining him too – of magic, of whatever part of himself he had given to create such a tool. His son, Lucien, oh gods – but what else?

Lips curled with distaste, he pulled his hands back, wiping the sweat from his brow, wiping those sinful hands on his pants. “Let’s take a break, shall we?”

Flashes then, more memories. Tree tops, red ones, and distant yelping. You could not see them, but you knew that sound, heavy leathery skin flapping, pushing air under muscle. Your mates - the rhythm of their wings a lullaby. These weren't memories – they were visions. Your mates were coming for you - you only prayed they would find you in time. 

You hadn’t realised you had faded out of consciousness yet again, your head lolling before Beron grabbed you by the chin, forcing to wake. “Ah ah Y/N,” he grinned darkly. “Don’t give up on me now.”

Your only response was a whimper, an attempt of a beg left hoarse and unheard as Beron took aim of the weapon, ever so cruelly forcing it deeper into your heart chamber. 

—————

The auburn tree tops of the Autumn forest did little to soften either Azriel or Cassian’s landing. Their hands ripped at their leathers, clawing for their chest, to stop the phantom pain that carried through the earth somewhere below. 

Feyre and Rhys halted their search, sprinting to help the males, scanning them inside and out for the third time in the past few hours. 

Cassian held a palm up before Feyre could haul him to his feet, sweat trickling down his face as he panted, resting on hands and knees as the cuts from the branches were quick to heal. 

Rhys had just about eased the pain from Azriel’s mind, but there was no point, as it had disappeared as quickly as it did the other times. 

With a firm hand still pressed to Azriel’s chest, Rhys threw a panicked look around him. “I don't have enough magic to shield you and search for Y/N at the same time.”

Azriel shook his head. “Do not–,” he panted. “– for one second, spend your magic on us.”

Rhys’s face was grave, but he gave a small nod. 

Up ahead, a collection of yelps sounded, Eris’s hounds now excited and frantic.                                                                           

“Come quick,” Hellion called, the hounds leaping over one another, pawing and whining at the ground, his pegasus flaring it’s nose, wings tussling anxiously.

The group inspected the spot littered with dried leaves, a repetitive stretch of ground indifferent to any other area they had passed. 

“There doesn't appear to be anything here,” Feyre murmured, running her hand through the dirt. “It’s just ground.”

“Do we dig?” Rhysand offered as Tamlin neared, pawing at the ground with bear-like claws.

But instinct had taken over the males that were doubled over not moments before. Their eyes matched in brightness, their hearts panting in their chest. Everything about this spot, chanted to them – yes, yes, yes. 

They met each others gaze then, nostrils flaring. 

“I feel it too,” Helion said to them with a pointed nod, his own chest heaving. 

Azriel raised a scarred fist, shadows twining with raw, flowing power as he plowed a fist to the ground. 

And was met with a thud. 

Casting a quick look back at Cassian who nodded for him to continue, Azriel threw another punch, and another, until the ground beneath them fell through, leaves and dirt that had once been now disappeared as the glamour was broken through. Instead, an entrance was revealed, a ladder leading into the dark and damp depths of Beron’s hidden lair. 

Cassian didn't wait to jump straight through the hole, landing on fists and knees with a powerful thud. 

The passageway led both left and right, an ominous dripping could be heard in the distance, the only light offered by Cassian’s magic and the opening above.

Before could Azriel leap in, Feyre grabbed his arm. 

“We need to keep searching for other entrances, ones that might get us closer to Y/N.”

Azriel nodded wordlessly, quickly meeting the eyes of the rest of the party. 

“Be smart,” Rhysand warned. It would be hard advice to adhere to, each of them knew. 

Azriel didn't wait to watch the rest of the group leave, Feyre and Rhysand in one direction, Tamlin and Hellion the other. He jumped just as Cassian had, following that thrumming, beating instinct, the frayed and weathered tether calling faintly from within.

Cassian nodded in one direction, Azriel agreeing to the other. They would split up to find you - it was the only way.

“Be safe,” Azriel grumbled.

“You too,” the War General replied, his voice predatory and lacking warmth.

Without their siphons, Azriel and Cassian’s magic was tempered, raw, unbound and wild. It twitched at their wings and hissed at their skin, because even it understood it was finally time to start paying some dues. 

“We’re coming baby,” Cassian muttered under his breath, before the both of them turned their heels, picking up into a jog. 

————

The first guards Azriel encountered hadn't so much as drawn their next breath before he snapped both their necks. And the next two after that. 

Despite Rhys’s advice, he wasn’t being smart at all. He should question them, use his shadows to choke out any answers of how to get to Y/N that much faster. But there was a fierceness in him, one that moved his limbs and fuelled his breath before he could consider rationale. He hoped it had a purpose, that predatory instinct. 

Azriel had reached the next clearing within minutes – a storeroom of sorts, guards armed, their weapons glowing in the light of the torches aflame at the walls. 

Three of them died instantly, blue magic seeping through their nostrils and mouth, planting death from the inside out. The fourth was restrained by shadows, Truthteller firm against his throat as his body was pulled flush against Azriel, canines at his ear. 

“Where is she?” he hissed.`

“You’re too late,” the guard gulped, wise enough to not fight and risk pushing himself further into the blade. 

Azriel’s unsatisfied growl rippled through the room, contents in storeroom rattling. 

“It’s true. Even if you reach her soon, you–”

A final breath was knocked from his chest as the satisfying crunch of a broken neck filled the room, Azriel letting his lifeless body fall to the floor. He had told him what he needed to know – he was getting closer. That was good enough for him.

Azriel moved through the storeroom like a shadow, his eyes scanning for the way forward. His instincts screamed at him, urging him to find her quickly, to silence the haunting calls that echoed in his mind.

As he advanced through the next passage, he caught a glimpse of movement behind a stack of crates. Azriel's senses heightened, and he summoned his shadows, enveloping himself in an inky cloak. He moved silently, like a wraith, closing in on the source of the disturbance.

A hushed conversation reached his ears. Guards were discussing a secret passage that led deeper into the dungeon, a hidden route that only the elite were privy to. Hazel eyes flecked with blue darkened with a mixture of determination and desperation.

Without warning, Azriel emerged from the shadows, Truthteller in hand, its blade shimmering with an ethereal light. The guards startled, their eyes widening as they faced the deadly Shadowsinger. Azriel didn't waste time with words. Just like the others, he used his shadows to incapacitate them, rendering them helpless on the cold stone floor.

His gaze focused on the guard who seemed to be the most knowledgeable. Azriel's eyes locked onto his with an intensity that sent shivers down the guard's spine.

"Where is the passage? Tell me, and I might spare your life," Azriel demanded, his voice low and threatening.

The guard hesitated, conflicting fear etched across his face. The seconds stretched agonisingly, the tension in the room palpable. Finally, with a defeated sigh, the guard revealed the secret of the hidden passage, his words a reluctant admission that pointed Azriel in the right direction.

Azriel sheathed Truthteller, leaving the guard to choke on his shadows instead. He vanished into the darkness, unflinching at the choking sounds he left behind. He’d find Beron’s men in hell, and kill them there too. 

The calls in his mind grew louder, a symphony of urgency that spurred him onward.

As he moved through the hidden corridors, Azriel couldn't shake the fear that clawed at his heart. Time was running out, and he couldn't afford to lose you to the darkness that threatened to consume them all.

————

Cassian’s rage was brewing by the second.

He was yet to encounter anything but the unyielding, endless passageways of Beron’s underground labyrinth. He wanted to find men - to start killing, to save his fucking mate. Hell, he’d even take a torch of light at this stage. 

But the only hint of life was his own breathing, ruby red magic providing much needed light. Damp air clung to his skin, and the distant echoes of his hurried footsteps reverberated off the cold, stone walls. The calls of his mate, distant yet urgent, fueled the fire within him.

It was that other worldly sense - the one that revealed itself along with the bond - that stopped in in his tracks, his breath synching.

Ears pricking to an off-shooting passage way, the unmistakable sound of a slither made his stomach coil.

It was instinct to finger at his sword, to press his palm into the leathery wrap at its hilt, ready for anyone, or anything.

An ominous wind blew through the tunnels, blowing the loosened strands of Cassian’s forward. Whatever was coming for him, it was big.

It’s scent caught him then – the unmistakable smell of a wyrm, a putrid mixture of rot and dampness. He’d only encountered one in his lifetime, on a dare with friends. The fight was easy then, Cassian had lured it from it’s burrow, and had easily defeated the creature thanks to his ability to fly, striking from above. But in here it was different - he barely fit in these tunnels, there was not enough room to even flex his wings. The wyrm itself would take the width of these paths, leaving no room to avert or dodge.

The ground trembled beneath him, a warning sign the wyrm was closing in. He could feel the creature's presence, a malevolent force that sought to consume him. The faint echoes of its slithering were louder now, and Cassian knew he had to act swiftly.

Drawing his weapon, a gleaming blade infused with the power of his siphons, Cassian pressed his back against the cold stone wall. The wyrm, blind but relentless, relied on scent and sound to track its prey. Cassian suppressed his breath again, minimising any trace that might give him away. He was stealthily still, wings tucked close to his powerful frame.

The wyrm entered the tunnel, its massive body undulating as it sensed the air, circular rows of rotten teeth bared as it’s forked tongue flickered, tasting his presence as it inched closer and closer…

With a swift movement, Cassian launched himself from the wall, a set of throwing knives set straight for the wyrm's mouth. The creature howled and thrashed as one landed its mark, lodging in its throat, the other clanging against its teeth. As it began thrashing, rocks and soot fell from around, the structure of the tunnel rumbling with impact. Cassian knew he’d be lucky to not be smothered by the damn labyrinth itself. 

He’d have to kill the wyrm quickly for either of you to make it out alive. So the creature was as good as dead. 

Without a second thought, Cassian launched through the air, narrowly avoiding the snapping jaws of the wyrm. The creature's writhed with blind rage as Cassian grabbed at it's large fangs, forcing it's hideous mouth open. 

His mind reeled as toxins belched from the wyrms belly, the heat of certain death within swarming around him. But his muscles pulsed, and clarity was a blessed treat as he heard the calls of his mate echo through in his mind. He would not die – not until you were safe.

Cassian roared as he forced the wyrm's jaw that much wider, one strong arm bearing its might as he used the other to unsheathe his sword, facing it upwards within the creature’s mouth.

In a daring maneuver, Cassian leapt back from the wyrm, its mouth snapping shut followed by a piercing howl. Cassian’s blade shot right through the roof of its mouth, pointing right through its flaring nostrils. As the wyrm thrashed in pain, Cassian drew his longsword, raking a vertical line down the exposed neck and belly, gutting the creature instantly. 

There was no time to observe the beast any closer, to wipe the tacky black blood that covered his face and hands or even catch his breath. 

With a heaving chest, Cassian pressed forward, following the calls of his mate that echoed louder then before.

————

Azriel’s roar of frustration sounded through the narrow passageway behind him. 

Another door, and likely another room of guards that lead to fucking nowhere. He was desperate, magic lashing violently from him, the blue almost fully overtaken the hazel in his eyes.

He didn't bother with stealth, kicking through the iron door, bursting it open with a large bang as it flew from rusty hinges.

The sight before him was a curious thing. 

A wide spanning room, and to his right, almost fifty guards, all of them armed. He blinked across him, and in front of an identical door was Cassian, chest heaving, splattered in some form of ink, red shining from beneath.��

The stretch of leathery string pricked his ears, Beron's archers pulling tight on their bows as they aimed at males. 

Cassian’s grin was feral as he met Azriel’s eye. 

This was going to be fun.

————

Part 8>>>

AN: Hello lovely people!! I so hoped you enjoyed this next chapter, and the beginnings of feral Cazriel! Did you see Tamlin and Feyre agreeing together? 🥺 Also Eris is such a mumma's boyyyyy, I love it so much 😝 As always, thank you for your patience with this fic. I never expected the plot to be this intense, and it's taken a lot more brain power than I had expected haha! I hope I'm doing the story justice. I'm thinking we only have another 2 parts to this fic FYI, so very keen to wrap up this big finale as soon as I can. Comment to join either my general tag list or just the one for Our Girl. Thank you always for your support and kindness with this fic <3

[prankprincess123]

In one timeline, Zelda cries. She spends her late teenage years and young adulthood sobbing, emotionally a widow by the design of her own plans. She spends years heartbroken and mourning the Hero she loved and sent away in hopes of restoring the childhood stolen from him.

In another timeline, Zelda is confused. She thought the fairy boy who helped her save her kingdom was her friend, and that he would always be there to play with her. She spends her entire youth wondering why her Hero is so haunted, and why he can't look at her without seeming like he's about to cry.

In both timelines, the kingdom needs a Prince-Consort and an heir, not just a young Queen pining over a boy from the forest, so she agrees to an arranged marriage. She marries a man she does not love, and bears a child, and tries to be the best Queen that she possibly can.

In one timeline, her love and loss are not a secret, it becomes a common saying that the rains beginning to flood the land are a reflection of the tears their Queen sheds for her long lost love.

In another timeline, she pines silently for her Hero, simply watching in heartbreak as his inner demons drive him mad until he is merely a shade of his former self and disappears.

In both timelines, her heir grows, marries, and has a daughter of their own.

In one timeline, this princess - not the Sacred Princess but one of the sacred line nonetheless - grows up with stories of her grandmother's life as a Sheikah and the Hero she loved and lost. She grows up with stories of how when you fall in love, you should hold on tight, never let it go, and never waste a moment with them. As the flood waters rise, she swears she won't make the same mistake as her grandmother made. She won't let a second with her love be wasted, so she runs away from the palace, following the sailor she loves out to sea.

In another timeline, that same princess grows up with firm and unwavering expectations of what her royal duty is and how exactly she is expected to see that through. She grows up with a grandmother who married for duty despite her love being right there, knowing that she too is to marry an appropriate suitor when she comes of age. It never even crosses her mind that she could have fought to be with her love.

In both timelines, this princess bears the next Sacred Princess.

In one timeline, the next Zelda is born free as the waves beneath her. Her name is Zelda as her mother couldn't bear to break that far with tradition, but such isn't a name fitting for a pirate, so her middle name is all she ever knows. She grows up free and feral, sunkissed and smirking, allowed to be wild and go wherever the wind takes her.

In another timeline, the next Zelda is born as the sun begins to set over Hyrule. She grows up sheltered in a palace of rules and expectations. She learns to hide both smiles and tears, nevermind any improper impulses that might cross her mind. She grows up as a proper princess, internally screaming for anything more than the darkness around her.

In both timelines, Zelda finds her Hero. She finds Link, or rather he finds her, and they don't let go this time. In this lifetime they will get their happy ending, together, and they will fight anyone who tries to take it away from them.

(Aka: my brain realized that both TP and WW are next lifetime direct sequels to OoT. And now all I can think is that TP Zelda got ALL the anxiety in the timeline split, and that if Tetra ever met Midna they would get along like a house fire in that there would be no survivors)

[justpearlysworld]

Wouldn't mind being sandwiched between Soap and Price :) that's a fun smut combo I think doesn't get enough appreciation around here

good idea!!!!!!!!!!!!! you have a massive squishy brain and i would love to give it a kiss b/c this is SO GOOD:33 🐻‍❄️🐻‍❄️

(cw!!: smut, spit roasting, p in v penetration, reader is afab :3)

MDNI!

threesome w/ soap and price!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

price lets his hands run from the top of your shoulders, to the fat of your tits, all the way down to where your abdomen meets your thighs. he gazes into your eyes and pulls you into a deep and feverish kiss

soap on the other hand, was seated on his knees on the floor. he gave small kisses from your calves to your inner thighs where he let himself stay sucked on, leaving little love bites all over your legs.

-“fuck, god. you’re so beautiful. so so pretty and so fucking sexy, dove”

prices voice was dripping in need and arousal; need to have you split open on his cock. he depended the kiss and began to kneed your squishy tits in his warm hands.

his voice had sent shockwaves rippling through your body and had furthered the wetness dripping down your pussy. soap didn’t let this go. he let his mouth move from your inner thighs to your plush cunt where he let himself ravage you like a starved man.

you pulled away from price to let out a whimper.

-“so wet bonnie. can’t help but eat you like my last meal”

you groan out at his words and flex your thighs and slightly clamp them around johnny’s head.

john took this time to unbuckle his pants and pull himself out of the confines of his boxers. he stood at half-mast and had some pre-cum leaking from his tip.

you look at him with sweet doe eyes pleading if you can give into your desires. he wraps his hand around his cock and guides it to your plush lips. he lets you set a quick pace as you hurry to stuff him down your throat to

-“damn, really that eager to be taken. johnny, why don’t you take her pussy first?”

soap removes himself from between your legs. he makes quick work of his pants and lets his cock run up and down your slit. he smiles down at you and enters his tip.

you moan around price as you grip his thigh to ground yourself.

-“bonnie, really squeezin’ down here!”

he too sets a pace, fast and rough, as soon as you give him the go ahead to begin moving. you had adjusted so you were being spit-roasted by the two of them.

price continued to fuck himself into your mouth and soap had been practically nailing you into the bed. for every thrust forward from soap, was a thrust out for price. they continued this rhythm so that you were getting constant stimulation by the two of them.

-“o-oh gosh, i feel like i’m gonna cum soon! johnny pleasee go harder!”

your sweet pleas did not fall on deaf ears. he quickened his pace to the point where you were stuck choking on price’s dick.

-“fuck. bonnie cum with me. cum around my cock pretty girl come on!”

it was also pretty apparent that price was about to cum as well. his hips had been jerking erratically and he was gripping your hair much tighter than he had been before.

-“come on dove, cum for us. please pretty girl”

you felt your orgasm wash over you and you clamped down on soap, and hard too. your cunt so tightly wrapped around his cock caused him to fall into his orgasm as well. price had steadied himself and forced his cock down into your throat. his salty cum dripping down your through as you coughed up around him.

soap steadied his hips and let out a feral moan as he spurted his seed into your greedy pussy.

price pulled his cock out to let you breath, standing up and giving soap a look.

-“switch places. round 2?”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

(a/n): not proofread so there’s probably some spelling errors !!!!

Requests Are Open!

wittle tag list!!: @godihatethiswebsite @bravo-001

[spidernuggets]

hiii first time requesting (if i could claim 🦚 that’d be awesome) from you!!

anyways,

jason fluff inspired by "chemtrails over the country club" by lana del rey

jason’s joker trauma triggers a destructive spiral, leading to a desperate hunt from you (gf or fiancée or gn idc honestly 🤷‍♀️) and the batfam when he goes missing. found right before he could kill the joker the batfam stops him and is freaking out and he drops to his knees and he’s just kinda numb. you’re the only one trying to comfort him and he’s pushing you away but you start reminding him of the life you two want together (queue the lines from chemtrails: “washing my hair, doing the laundry…” etc etc) and he breaks down and starts crying in your arms.

ok yes it’s a bit of a tear jerker but my brain is screaming that this needs to exist so 🥹🥹

anyways tysm for considering and i hope you have an amazing day regardless! don’t forget to eat and drink water 💋

— 🦚??

Jason Todd x Reader

Note: Really? Aren't you peacock-anon who requested feral jason todd? I'm only asking because you asked this around the same time peacock-anon reblogged feral jason todd and said they were the one who requested it. Anyways, whatever, THANKS FOR REQUESTING ME. If you're not peacock-anon, then I'm afraid you can't claim it :(( BUT ANYWAYS i hope you like the fic 🫶🫶

It was one of those nights. The nights where Jason couldn't stay still in bed, always tossing and turning. He tried, but every time he closed his eyes, he was 15 again. He was back in the dark, abandoned warehouse. He was back in the chair, tied up and unable to move. He was back with the Joker.

Beads of sweat trickled down his forhead. He felt like he was suffocating. He looked over to his side, seeing you peacefully sleeping, snuggled into his chest. God, you were so beautiful. Like a Seraphim that was gifted to him during his loneliest hours when he couldn't find a speck light in his darkness. You were his miracle. His reason for continuing to live.

He's already done too much by letting you stay with him. By letting you love him. By letting himself love you. He felt like he put you in this position; a position where you can't leave, can't be free. You're stuck in a position where you have to stay with him.

Sometimes, you wish he could see the way you see him. A beautiful figure shaped and moulded by the hands of the most exquisite and talented scluptor. A man that could love you like no other has. A man who knows how to treat you well, who knows you can be independent but can stay close to you, at the ready to save you from any danger. He will always be at your beck and call.

He shifts away from you, carefully untagling limbs and sitting up. You stirred in your sleep, hand reaching out to find your boyfriend's warmth. He shushes you, pecking your forhead.

"I'm gonna be on the couch, sweet thing," he said, barely above a whisper. You hum in response, letting your arm fall back onto the bed.

You understood that during some nights, when Jason had bad dreams, he needed to be alone. You tried to help him once, trying to wake him up as his screams were muffled as he slept. His hand accidentally made contact with your face. He didn't realise it, even when he woke up. You tried hiding the bruise with makeup, but to no avail. When he found out what he did, he couldn't talk to you. He wanted to punish himself by not speaking to the love of his life. Even when you tried to tell him it was just an accident or that ot didn't even hurt that much, he couldn't even look you in the eyes.

So soon after he started speaking again, you came to the negotiation that whenever he had night terrors, he would move to the couch. He never wants to hurt you like that again.

But even as Jason laid on the couch that night, staring at the cracked ceiling, his thoughts were running wild. A bunch of drunk men were outside laughing. But he heard the cackles of the Joker. A stray cat knocks over a trash can by the alley of their apartment. But he hears the clink of the crowbar.

His heart races, and his pupils contracted. His breathing is uneven. His mind runs to Bruce. Why didn't he kill the Joker? Why is he still alive? Why is he locked up, only for him to break out again? Where was his justice?

He sits up, looking around the dark room. His eyes move to his hands that were resting on his lap. He promised. He promised not to make any lethal decisions as his role of Red Hood. But the Joker is still out there. He's definitely not in Arkham. Arkham Asylum couldn't keep the Joker in captivity even if it had the best security.

He wanted these dreams to stop. He wanted to stop waking up in the middle of the night, worried that a stupid faced clown was going to break in and hurt you. He wanted to stop waking up in the middle of the night and leave your hold just to sleep on the couch. He wanted to stop waking up in the middle of the night because it was worrying you.

Jason grunts, figuring there was only one way to end this. One way for him to finally feel better and to stay in your arms without hurting you again. Jason stands from the couch, putting his shoes on, and sprinting as fast as he can to his nearest safe house where all his gear is.

You stretch as the morning sun burns your eyes. You look around to see Jason isn't beside you.

"Oh right, he's on the couch," you mutter to yourself. You thought breakfast for him would he nice. A nice wake up to a horrible sleep.

But upon entering the living room, the couch was empty. In fact, there was no 6 foot, 200 pound boyfriend to be seen anywhere. You looked all over the apartment.

That's weird. Jason would've at least left a note or a text. You go back into your room, grab your phone, and scroll to Jason's contact name. But as it rang, you heard another ringtone in the distance.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you walk out of your room, trying to find where the ringtone was coming from. It led you back to the living room, Jason's phone ringing under a pile of blankets.

You can hear your heartbeat in your head. Jason never left his phone. Starting to panic, you dial Dick's number as he answered within three rings.

"Hey, Y/-"

"Dick! I- Jason's not home! He- he went to sleep on the couch last night - I.. Nightmares! He left his phone.. no note! Gone!" You could hardly form a proper sentence. Your fingers pull against your hair, and you hyperventilate. Dick tries to calm you down.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, don't worry! We'll help you find him, okay? I'll round up the other bats and birds, and we'll look for him. He's going to be okay, okay?" He gently says from the other line.

You take a deep breath. "Yeah.. yeah okay," your voice shakes.

You start your own hunt for him as the Bat Family gear up. The first place you look at is at Jason's closest safe house. Going in, you see that a few pistols are gone from his wall. You run to where he stored his armour, but that's gone, too. You call Dick again.

"Dick! His guns, armour- He's out as Red Hood," you worry more. It's broad daylight, Jason shouldn't be out in his uniform.

Dick says, "Got it," before informing Batman that Jason is out as Red Hood. He then tells you to stay put, and that Oracle will update you when she tracks Jason's location.

You pace around the safe house, anxiously waiting for Oracle's call. You couldn't think of a reason why Jason would be out and why he wouldn't tell you. Jason tells you everything!

Then your phone rings.

It barely rang once before you answered it.

"He's in the warehouse." Is all Oracle said before you booted out the door. You didn't even need the address or specific whereabouts of the warehouse. You knew which one she was talking about. The one Jason died in.

Surprisingly, you showed up at the same time as everyone else.

You all rush inside, checking all the rooms. You were the first one to enter the room. And low and behold, the Joker in the centre, tied up in a chair, just as Jason was a couple of years ago, as Jason stood a couold feet away, a pistol pointed in front of him.

You couldn't tell if everything was sped up or in slow motion. But you screamed Jason's name. It's followed by a loud bang, then a couple of grunts and thuds.

As your vision focuses, there's smoke flowing out of Jason's gun, a hole in the wall where the bullet, and the sounds of the Joker's maniacal laughter as he's been tackled to the floor by Dick and Bruce.

You hear a mutter of 'no's. Your attention turns to Jason. His head is shaking, and his lip is trembling. You notice lis legs wobbling, and you lunge forward to hold him as he falls to his knees.

An echo of choked sobs is heard from Jason as he drops his gun and digs his palm into his eyes while he cries.

"Fuck! Why- Why did you do that?! He- He should be dead!" He tried to yell, but came out as cracked whimpers.

"Sh, sh, I know, sweetie, I know," you whisper to him, running your hands through his hair, just as he loved it.

Jason carries on. "He.. he killed me! He took me away from Bruce... he's gonna take me away from you.."

Your heart shattered. You wish and pray that there was more you could do to help him.

"No, no, no. Don't say that, baby, he's not. You hear me? He's not gonna take you away from me," Jason leaned himself into your comfort further, grounding himself. Reminding himself that you're with him. From the corner of your eye, you see Tim and Steph walking up to the two of you, but you lightly shake your head, a silent plea, asking them to leave you be. Damian walks up behind them, tugging on their capes, respecting your request.

Jason tries to shove you off him. But he's too tired. So he tries ti speak instead.

"Get away," he weakly says. "Get away! I'm - You shouldn't be near me," his voice cracks. "He's gonna come back! He's gonna hurt you! I- I'm gonna hurt you..."

"Hey, Jay," you quietly call out, pulling him closer to you. Jason sniffles against your chest. "Remember that time you got a little drunk? I had to help give you a bath?" Jason doesn't reply. But he remembers. He remembers your delicate fingertips massaging his scalp. It felt nice. He wanted to be in that moment again. "Remember what we talked about? How hopefully Gotham's brutality dies down, and we can run away together? We said we'd own our own house. A small one, like a cottage. You'd be cooking one of Alfred's lovely dishes while I'd hang the laundry out in our garden. We'd have movie nights, eating junk food while crying to the Notebook. And.. You even admitted wanting your own kids. Remember that, Jay?" Your fingers caress his scarred cheek. Your lips hovered over his white streak.

You heard a sound coming from Jason. Like he was trying to speak. "Yeah. Two girls. Two... so neither of them would be lonely..."

You smiled, tears stinging your own eyes. "Yeah.. Jason, nothing bad is going to happen to us. We're going to have the life we want. Nothing is going to stop us. Not even that monster. I won't let it happen. You do such a good job protecting me. But you need to remember that you're safe with me too, okay?" You said to him.

In response, Jason breaks down into more tears once again, clinging on to you tighter. "I love you," he sniffles. "Don't wanna lose you."

By this time, you're now crying yourself. "I love you too, my sweet boy," you kissed his head. "You're never going to lose me. I'm right here." Your hand intertwines with his.

The two of you are wrapped in each other's safety and warmth. Jason is mever going to stop about the horrible possibilities that could occur if you continue to stay with him. He thinks he's selfish for not doing more to let you go. But you're like a magnet. Somehow, through all that loathing he feels for himself, you're always going to find your way through the midst of hatred. You're always going to be there to hold his hand and give him the love that he never believed that he deserves. You're always going to show him that loving him isn't a sin.

Hopfully, this reached your expectations, anon 🥲🥲 But it was a lot of fun to write!! ALSO sorry if this seems short and rushed, I'm really trying to get everyone's requests out 😭😭