#I’m still not sure on how I feel about her shoulder armor but in the mean time I like them

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Make way for the Lost Bots’ self-proclaimed bodyguard :D

[mooneeswrld]

WHAT IS LIKE TO BE QUEEN ?

(CHAOS!ARTHURxREADER)

⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁

pairings : agedup!chaos!athur x reader

warnings : forced marriage, mention of blood, violence, overprotecting, a bit of yandere, chaos power, slight dirty talks.

summary : as a daughter of a brilliant knight of Liones, you grown up in a abusive familyhood. you then escaped of this situation and someone’s knight were looking for a bride for their king just as they saw you running out…

PROLOGUE -> PT.1 -> PT.2

“i cannot…ah…just stay there…ah…while doing nothing…!” I said to myself while I was running without turning back as my drunk father yelled to me to come home and stop my “bullshits”.

I was still in my street, not running fast because of my heavy armor and sword. but the good side is that I wasn’t being chased by an alcoholic person that I call “father”.

so I stopped running for a while, my face all red because of the effort. I started walking out of Liones till I bump in someone with long white hair.

“ow…watch where you’re goin-“ I exclaimed till I face the person that turned back.

wait…

“sorry miss !!” said the freaking prince Tristan surrounded by his…friends ?

“o-oh ! do not apologise your majesty it’s for me I-“ I’ve been cut by him chuckling curiously. we know each other slightly, my dad know his dad a bit so we saw each other often.

“oh come on, (y/n), not those manners between us !!” he smiled at me after saying that. I smiled back but nervously, I was kinda hurry.

“oh okay, if you say so, Tristan” I chuckled softly between my words. I looked at the people behind him and looked at a girl that was clearly scaring me. she looked at me with furious eyes, that’s a girl I often saw around Tristan and two other guys.

“anyway, what were you doing in such a hurry ?” those words were from a guy I recognised between all : Lancelot. I frowned, knowing he knew about my abusive father. I then thought again about the fact that I needed to leave right the way.

“u-uh…doing exercises !!” I said seriously but nervous too because I was lying.

“LIAR !” screamed a blue haired girl from behind a lil man with a purple helmet. I jumped as she screamed and looked at her with wide eyes. how could she know anything about me and my reason to leave ??

“I-uh…excuse me…what ?” I said kinda nervous because of the feeling of all the gaze on me.

“I said : you’re lying” she said sure of herself.

“how can you be sure of that ?” I asked without any bad talking, I was just so confused. as she was going to talk about her “thing”, Lancelot explained.

“she can see when people are lying, blah blah blah… anyway, what. were. you. running. off. from ??” he frowned as Tristan did too. I started feeling stress in my tummy.

“I-uhh…I was-“ I’ve been cut again by Tristan touching my shoulder while saying with worried eyes.

“do you want me to call my father for any help ?? he could talk to your paren-“ he had been cut too by me saying clearly and loudly “nope !”

“DON’T CUT WHEN SIR PRINCE TRISTAN LIONES IS TALKING !” yelled the freaking scary girl that was staring at me badly since I got here.

the little kid with a purple helmet said with all his innocence which was so cute “hello ! I’m Percival ! who are you ?”

I jumped again “what are their problems ?? they are all talking at the same time : there’s a girl screaming at me “liar” another tell me life lessons, a boy is presenting himself and Tristan is saying if I need help of his father !!”

calm down (y/n).

before I could say it, Lancelot did it : “wow, guys, you’re all talking at the same time ! calm down !!”

I felt my tension decrease slowly as I looked at the little boy and said with a nice smile “hey ! I’m (y/n) nice to meet you Percival !”

he smiled and chuckled before saying “nice to meet you too !”

“anyways guys i really need to go now…for my reasons.” I started walking forward again before a hand placed on my shoulder.

“will we met again, (y/n) ?” said Tristan with a worried look before I saw Lancelot having the same look. I chuckled before turing to them.

“of course we will, I promise”

he smiled as a relief before I waved to them and ran back out of Liones.

~~~~

as I ran out of Liones, a bag of clothes in my hands, I couldn’t stop thinking about ‘what if Tristan tell his dad ??’

but I trust Tristan, he know that I wasn’t okay with it, he wouldn’t do it…right ?

I stopped running when I bumped into someone in the stable at the exit of Liones. the shock ad a sound of two metals hitting each other. am I bumping into everyone now or what ?

“excuse me” I said not bothering looking at the man, a knight to be more precise.

the man said nothing, just looking at me weirdly. he was looking at me like some model that needed to be perfect. suddenly he touched my hair, I then gasped, reminding of an old memory. I then slapped his hand out of my hairs and looked furiously at him.

“what do you think you’re doing ?!” I exclaimed calmly but with a furious tone.

“would you see yourself as a queen ?”

my eyes widen, what was he on about ?? I felt the aura of others knights hiding somewhere. I felt my breath heavier. and looked at him to respond.

“what are you talking about, you fool ? I won’t marry Tristan !!” I exclaimed slightly confused. I started walking to my horse, trying to get out of this…trap I think ?

“I’m not talking of Liones here” he said with a more serious tone. his eyes locked on me, trying to look at my body trough my armor.

I gasped as I prepared my horse, nearly finished so I can ran out.

“w-well…no, I know it’s some random jokes. now if you’ll excuse me” I said as he chuckled after it. I jumped on my horse looking at him from the top of my horse.

he smiled and said “we’ll see about that then. we will met again, and this time we will take you and bring you to our king”.

I gasped and turn my horse around and started going away from the stable and them. why is this day so awful ??

~~~~

as hours passed fast, my horse felt more and more tired and the was going to let his place to the moon. I then thought that I needed to stop at an hostel. I then went to closer village from where I was.

when I finally saw a village where people lived peacefully. I put my horse in the stable of the village. and then rushed in the hostel, it was already the night.

the hostel was a small one. after I prayed, wishing there was still free rooms, I entered in.

“hello ma’am ! how can I help you ?” said the person directly when I entered : which makes me jump.

“hello, can I get a room for tonight. I’m alone” I smiled slightly at the old man.

“uuh…let me check…yeah…we have still two rooms free so you can get a room” said the old man as he took a key behind him. “It’ll be the room 5”

I took the keys and said thanks and good night as I started walking to my room. when I entered, I heard loud man laugh on the room beside mine, great. I entered my room and started taking my shower.

as I stopped the water and was ready to dry myself, I stopped. I was frozen in place as I heard the conversation of my neighbours.

“yeah…ahah ! King Arthur is searching for a wife…I think our mission is over since we found this girl thus morning in the stable…ahahah, it was quick !”

wait…

what did he said ??!

I started panicking, my first move is to grab my towel and dry myself with a fast and nervous way. ‘(y/n), you’re completely alone right now, if they happen to see you…as the knights of King Arthur…you’re dead’

this night, I didn’t slept well : you know why.

~~~~

the next morning got really fast. you woke up, got ready and got out of your room to checkout the night as the freaking knights were in the bar of the hostel. you gasped, panicking again when the old man called you loudly.

“good morning ma’am ! was everything okay ?”

you wanted to crush his face against his fucking desk. you took a big inspiration and walked in. feeling the gaze of the knights.

“I’d like to checkout” you said as you glared at the poor old man. you then payed and walked fast out of the hostel but…a hand grabbed your shoulder.

“we met again…ma’am” said the knight of the other day. I decided to act dumb :

“excuse me, who are you ?” you said as you grabbed his hand on your shoulder, put it away and glared at him.

“oh, don’t worry, you’ll know soon”

“wait,wha-“ after this, I felt a big blow on the said of my head that knocked me down…

shit…

*to be continued*

[comatosebunny09]

Stuck on this royalty AU in which you’ve rejected King Astarion’s advances too many times.

You’ve been his bodyguard for years. One of the few people who’s seen the man beneath the crown, stripped bare and bleeding. Naturally, you both grew to care for each other more than a king and subject should.

Astarion’s come dangerously close to confessing his feelings for you. But you’ve always staved him off, believing you’re unfit to be anything more than one who serves him. Never his equal.

Cue you sabotaging your budding romance by suggesting he pursue people of his caliber.

He humors you if only to make you jealous. Even the maids know how this man pines for you.

One day, he takes the hand of a beautiful young woman to tour his garden, whispering things into her ear to make her giggle. He perches a hand at the small of her back. Smiles in that charming, boyish way that he typically reserves for you. He puts on a show just for you, his gaze often flitting over his shoulder because he knows you’re following dutifully behind.

Try as you might to mask your ire, he can practically hear the gears whirring in your head. You’re so blinded by your jealousy that you go stumbling into a pond. How comical a sight you pose, the king’s professional and stone-faced guard dog, sputtering and flailing about like a wet cat.

You’re mortified as his servants scramble to get you out, your cape and armor waterlogged. Astarion instinctively moves to assist, wriggling out of the young woman’s hold. You lock eyes with your king as he reaches for you. Over his shoulder, you watch his guest stifle a giggle behind her gloved hand.

Your heart plummets into your stomach. You could only hope to be someone as beautiful and titillating. The king deserves someone cut from a similar cloth as him, not a lowly dog with calluses on their hands and scars littering their body.

You dismiss yourself with a curt bow, your dignity bruised, your eyes burning with the threat of tears. Hardly notice Astarion briskly excusing himself from his guest to follow you.

You stomp into the servant’s quarters, a few maids scuttling about with towels to dry you off. You’re so embarrassed you don’t even have the voice to tell them you can do it yourself. Astarion cautiously wanders in, quietly dismissing the maids to fetch you a change of uniform.

You can’t meet his eye as he kneels before you, trying vainly to hide his smile whilst he towels you off.

“I’m not even sure what you’re jealous of. You’re the one who told me to move on, remember?” the king softly scolds.

You scoff. “Jealous? Me?”

Astarion gives you a deadpan look. “Darling, you practically drowned yourself trying to get an earful of our conversation.”

“Did not.”

“Right. I suppose the pond stepped into your way, then?”

Another scoff accompanied by heat blooming into your cheeks.

“Come now, darling. As lovely as you are, green just isn’t your color.”

You cut your eyes at him in warning, to which he chuckles something deep and alluring.

Astarion pats your knee, standing to his full height. He offers you his hand, insisting you take it with a look after you refuse him. He pulls you to him, uncaring if his doublet gets wet, pilfering the breath from your lungs.

The king gazes down at you with all the tenderness of the world, his hand splayed at the small of your back. The proximity of your body causes your mind to whirl and your lips to part with a gasp.

“Let’s get you changed, hmm?”

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth. “What about your date, Majesty?”

Astarion shrugs, rolling his eyes dismissively. “I’m sure she’ll find someone else to occupy her time. I’ve more…important matters to attend to,” he says, his gaze simmering like a low flame.

He ushers you into the hallway, steering you towards his room to get you cleaned up. A luxury only you know, no one else having been allowed to see his room as often as you have.

You shiver, still soaked to the bone. Astarion tucks you close into his side, rubbing your arm to ward off the chill. You smile triumphantly quietly, knowing you’re the only person he’s touched like this in years.

[froggibus]

Vermillion Flames - Blackwatch! Genji

Pairing: Blackwatch! Genji Shimada x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: angst, smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Genji is the newest addition to Blackwatch, and while he seems to be angry at everything, his anger seems to be clouded over by something else—his feelings for you

CW: dubcon, dark! Genji, Blackwatch! Genji, dom! Genji, sub! reader, dacryphilia, masturbation, marking, choking, possessiveness, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, breeding? kinda, violence, reader gets shot, mutual pining, Genji is a lil obsessive

THIS IS NOT THE HAPPY, WELL-ADJUSTED GENJI WE KNOW AND LOVE. THIS IS A DARKER, BLACKWATCH GENJI WHO IS STILL COPING WITH HIS THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AFTER THE INCIDENT.

I’ve had this idea for a really long time and at one point was writing a full length fic about this, but I always lose motivation so here is the bite sized version lol. I kinda tried to keep his character here while also playing to the darker elements, especially his feelings towards himself and others after the accident. also I’m just super down bad for dark! Genji so enjoy <3

————

If there’s anything you’ve come to learn in your time as a Blackwatch agent, it’s how to know when you’re being watched. 

Despite stepping off of the jet into the cold Russian air, you feel the warm sting of eyes on your back. You glance over your shoulder—but the only people around are your teammates. 

Cole Cassidy isn’t even looking your way, his focus is on the holster attached to his belt and the Peacekeeper that sits inside of it. 

Gabriel Reyes has his holopad out, eyes narrowed at the schematics on his screen. He doesn’t seem aware of what’s going on around him, but you know Reyes—he’s always watching. 

Moira O’Deorain hasn’t even stepped off of the jet yet. Your best guess is she’s still gathering all of her equipment into a bag that she’ll force Cassidy to carry later on. 

So that leaves Genji. The mysterious cyborg is the newest addition to your team and he’s kept to himself the past few weeks. You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t caught your eye, but you knew better. Reyes and Cassidy had constantly reminded you that he was dangerous, unstable. Still, the dangerous air to him sends electricity arcing up your back.

You shrug it off. Maybe you’re just paranoid because you’re about to infiltrate a terrorist organization. You turn back to the terrain ahead. 

Genji Shimada can’t seem to tear his eyes off of you. Something about the sway of your hips, the swell of your ass, just captivates him. Dark eyes stare at you, shockwaves rushing through his system. 

It’s been so long since a woman has been able to capture his attention. Ever since he became the cyborg monstrosity he sees himself as, he hasn’t had time for women. Or more accurately, women don’t want a robot for a boyfriend. 

He suppresses a sigh. The group has already started trekking through the snow, and he has no choice but to follow. The cold air does wonders to suppress the heat rushing through him, and he’s grateful for his mask so that no one sees the red tinge to his face. He forces his eyes to look at the horizon, to look at the path ahead, to look anywhere but you.

The trek to the facility feels like an eternity, and you’re not sure if it’s from the eyes burning into you or the deep snow, or some combination of both. 

You shake it off. You can’t afford to be distracted on this mission, and Genji is off limits. 

—

Genji is less than enthused when Reyes pairs him off with you. He couldn’t help but notice the way you shrunk in on yourself when Reyes called his name. He hates how the sight sends blood rushing through him.

The two of you set out on sneaking through the vents of the facility, blindly feeling your way through the dark in hopes to find the lab. You can hear Genji breathing behind you and see the red glow of his armor reflected on the vents. Having him behind you now, nowhere to stare but you, only confirms what you thought earlier. He was looking at you. You’re not sure how to feel about that. 

You’re so distracted by his presence that you don’t realize the loose grate beneath you until you’re falling through it, tumbling towards the ground. You barely manage to brace yourself before you hit the rubber floor of the facility, using your momentum to roll. 

Unfortunately, your entrance was less than graceful and now the Talon agents in the room are staring at you. 

Genji groans, shaking his head at you. Great. He watches as one of the agents hits the panic button, and red lights and an alarm start blaring. He watches from the vent, waiting to see what you’ll do. 

The agents in the room flee, but they’re replaced by other agents in full body armor, carrying pulse rifles. You stand your ground, extending out your bo staff and spinning it in front of you with expert grace. 

If he wasn’t so pissed off at you, Genji would be impressed. 

He lets you fight off the first wave on your own, but as soon as the agents start to overwhelm you, he’s dropping out of the vent. He lands silently, the agents not even noticing him until he’s slicing through their ranks. 

You finish off the last of your agents and freeze, watching him fight. He’s a blur of silver and black and red, a gory mess but beautiful in the same sense a graveyard is. Watching him now, you see why Cass and Reyes had warned you about him—you can almost see the ghosts of his past following him through the fight. 

You’re so distracted, so infatuated, you don’t notice the stray bullet headed straight for you. 

Genji reacts before you do, diving in front of you and deflecting it into the straggling agent. The agent collapses to the ground, a hole burning in his chest armor. 

“T-thank you.”

Genji spins around, staring down at you. He’s not very tall, but he just seems so much bigger than you right now. You wait for him to say something, anything, but instead he just sighs. 

The two of you make your way through the facility as quietly as you can, blending into the shadows casted by the blinking red lights. Every once in a while, Genji grabs your wrist harshly to tug you along with him. You don’t need words to know he’s pissed at you. 

He’s so mad at you, so frustrated with your inability to focus. And yet a stupid part of him still wants to protect you.

The journey back to the jet feels like an eternity, made worse by Genji’s complete and utter silence. You try to make conversation with him, avoiding bringing up what just happened, but it only seems to make him more angry. He walks slightly ahead of you, refusing to let himself look at you. 

The emotions swelling in his chest are so confusing, he just wants to hit something. He’s so angry at you, and your stupid sunshine persona just keeps talking and talking. He’s half tempted to tell you to shut up, stop talking, but he knows he has to keep it together until you’re back to safety. And though he’s angry, another part of him isn’t.

It’s the first time in months he’s felt something that wasn’t riddled in angst and guilt, and he hates it. He hates that he wants to just look at you. Just stare at you for hours on end. He hates the way you make his heart race and the blood rush to his groin. 

Just before you make it to the jet, a few meters from where the ramp is down and you’re sure Reyes and Cass and Moira are waiting, you try to catch up with Genji.

You jog up to his side, trying to grab his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, I’m really sorry for—”

Genji spins around impossibly fast, catching your wrist in his metal palm. He squeezes it enough for it to hurt. You try to pull away but he keeps you there—a display of his strength, and the difference between the two of you. You hate the way it makes your heart speed up in spite of the pain. 

“Don’t.” He simply says, but he doesn’t let go of your wrist. 

His tone catches you by surprise. You’ve barely ever talked to him, and now he sounds so angry with you, it makes you shiver. 

You glare at him, waiting for him to say something else. He glares back, red eyes narrowing in on you. When your eyes meet, there’s that electricity again. You wonder if he feels it too. 

Then, as if nothing happened, he drops your wrist and boards the plane. You catch your aching wrist, rubbing at the sore skin, before following him onto the jet. 

—

You’re pulled into Morrison’s office almost as soon as you land back at HQ. Reyes follows you in, ready to both berate and defend you in front of his closest comrade. You stand the whole time, fingers fiddling with the foam head of the chair next to Reyes. 

You zone out while Jack yells, staring at the wall above his head, waiting for it to be over. Everything he’s saying is true—you were reckless, distracted, stupid. You could have gotten everybody killed, one more mistake like this and there won’t be a place for you within Blackwatch anymore. 

Genji listens from the other side of the door. He tried to stop himself, but the look on your face when Reyes started to guide you down the hall changed his mind. You looked so scared. He wasn’t going to let you face that alone. 

Everytime Jack raises his voice, Genji’s hand clenches the door handle, ready to burst into the room. Yet he doesn’t, because everytime, you just say ‘yes sir’ in that cute obedient voice that’s driving him crazy. 

At a particularly loud burst, he’s turning the handle when he hears the loud clicking of boots behind him. 

“Don’t,” Cassidy warns, “it ain’t worth it.”

He spins around, squinting at the cowboy. They’ve barely interacted, but when they have, it’s been brief. 

“Y/n made the mistake, y/n’s gotta pay for it. Simple.” 

Genji takes a deep breath. He knows he’s right, it’s none of Genji’s business. But something about being told to leave you alone, let you face this alone, makes him so angry. He can feel the blood rush to his ears. 

“I don’t know if I like you muckin’ about in their business, anyway.” He raises an eyebrow at the cyborg, “y/n’s a good person.” 

Though he doesn’t say it, the implication is loud and clear. You’re a good person, he’s not. Still, being told to stay away from you only makes him want to be with you more. He hates it. 

“Just,” the cowboy sighs, taking back his earlier judgment. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He turns on his heel and walks down the hallway, spurs clicking the whole way. 

They’ve been talking for so long that the meeting is almost over, and Genji only has a few seconds to dash down the hall before the door is swinging open. 

You tug on your hair in frustration, forcing yourself to keep your feelings in until you get to your room. You scream as soon as your door closes behind you, kicking a pile of clothes in frustration. 

You pull off your suit, toss it with the clothes, and collapse in a heap on your bed. You fucked up so bad, you really, really fucked up. And it’s all because of that stupid fucking cyborg and his stupid fucking attitude. 

You lay there in your underwear for god knows how long, sobbing out your frustrations for the day. 

Genji sits in his bed on the other side of the wall. He can hear you, and a part of him wants to comfort you. But another, darker part of him just wants to see you cry. He shakes his head—when did he get so fucked up?

Still, he can’t help but seethe. He’s the only one who should be making you cry like this, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be from him yelling at you. God. 

He tugs off his visor and slams it on his nightstand. He doesn’t even know how to deal with his feelings anymore. It’s been so long since he’s felt anything but this burning anger, and the combination of these emotions are driving him crazy. You’re driving him crazy. 

It’s like his attraction has dialed up to 11, and he doesn’t know how to cope. 

He can still hear your sobs from the other side of the wall, and he hates the way it makes his cock swell. It hurts—straining against the metal plate of his armor. 

He groans, part pain, part pleasure. He hates his body, he hates his stupid robot parts. And the fact that he can’t even get a hard on anymore without it hurting makes him hate everything even more. 

He strips out of his armor, peeling away the metal parts that he can, despising the ones he can’t. Still, he’s happy that his cock is free, the fresh air feeling amazing on his sensitive head. 

He spits in his hand, spreading out the moisture on the shaft of his cock. He focuses on the sound of your crying through the walls, shutting his eyes and rubbing himself while he listens to it. You sound so pretty, so weak. He loves it. 

He only wishes he was in there with you.

He speeds up his movements, thrusting into his hand. He can picture it so well—him pinning you to the bed, fucking you until you cry like that. Listening to you beg and whine and sob all night. 

He’s finishing in his hand before he can finish the fantasy, wiping off the cum with a tissue and tossing it in the trash. 

He lays back in bed. What the fuck is wrong with me? He was never like this before, never into stuff like this before. And he knows a part of him will never be the same since the accident, but he didn’t know it would be like this. 

He wants to protect you. He wants to avoid you. He wants to fuck you, he wants to make you cry. He wants to make you feel better, he wants to take care of you. It makes his head spin. He’s never been obsessed like this before. 

He shakes his head. He needs to stay away from you before this gets any worse. 

—

Genji avoids you like the plague after that. He always chooses to spar with Cass during training, he refuses to be your partner on missions, and when he is, he just ignores you the whole time. 

You’re not even sure what you did wrong. You know there was that weird, tense moment after you messed up that mission, but you didn’t think that was reason enough to hate you. The whole enigma of him makes your head spin, but it’s so alluring that you couldn’t hate him even if you wanted to. 

Sometimes you catch him staring at you, red eyes examining you like prey, but as soon as you notice it, it’s done. You’re not one to talk though—sometimes you catch yourself zoning out on him, watching his arms as he trains, watching his sweaty black hair falling in his face. 

The tension between you two is suffocating. 

So of course Reyes has to assign him to be your partner on an undercover mission in London. 

The mission starts off normal, but so did all of the other ones. Genji keeps a close eye on you, ready to make sure you don’t get distracted and fuck up again. Still, he’s the one that’s distracted. Ever since that day in his room when he got off on hearing you cry, his feelings towards you have only grown. 

He shakes his head and forces himself to focus. He can’t afford to get distracted here—not when either one of you could get hurt in the process. 

The rooftops of London are completely empty, and so are the streets, surprisingly. The two of you creep around, trying to make your way to the stakeout point so you can observe a secret meetup. The air smells of petrichor, the sky threatening to open up and pour down on you. You wouldn’t complain if it did. You need something to cool you off from the thoughts you’ve been having about Genji. 

You make it to the designated spot, setting up your stuff. You radio to Reyes that you’ve arrived at the vantage point and he radios back that the deal should be happening at any minute. 

Any minute, which is code for anytime in the next hour. You hope it’s sooner rather than later so you don’t have to deal with this awkward silence. You fiddle with your fingers, tapping them on your knees. 

Genji watches you closely. He watches the way you mess around with your fingers, watches your chest with every breath you take. That costume fits you perfectly, and he hates the idea that other people get to see you like this. 

The meeting happens only a few minutes after you arrive, a tall omnic dressed in a suit emerging from the shadows to deal with a scraggly looking man. Genji observes them closely while you take pictures, capturing everything they do. 

Something seems wrong, though. They’re not exchanging goods like the intel said they would be. In fact, it doesn’t seem like a secret meeting at all. Genji realizes it’s a trap a second too late, only managing to shove you down as a bullet rips across the landscape. 

It grazes your shoulder, a burning pain spreading through your body. You collapse to the ground with a whine, Genji landing on top of you. He presses his hand to your mouth to keep you quiet. 

You’re in so much pain—you’re not sure you’ve ever felt this way before. It burns and it aches and it feels as though you’ve been ripped apart. Genji presses down on the wound and a scream leaves your throat just as another bullet rips through the air. 

It just barely misses the top of Genji’s head. 

“Stay here,” he breathes heavily, suddenly pouncing to his feet. 

That’s the most he’s spoken to you in weeks, and it’s the first thing you’ve heard him say without that tone behind it. You watch as he stands up and draws his sword, challenging the sniper to shoot again. 

They do, and Genji is ready. He deflects it back perfectly, the clang of metal on metal replacing the sound of the shot. There’s a yelp from far away, and satisfied that he’s got them, Genji returns to your side. 

Only, you’ve lost so much blood that you’re barely coherent. “Fuck!” He taps your face, willing you to stay with him, but you drift off. 

—

You wake up in a hotel room, body aching in the clean linen sheets. Your shoulder burns, and then you remember what happened. You sit up quickly, tugging off your shirt to examine the wound. It’s been cleaned and bandaged, under a huge patch of blood stained gauze. 

You sigh in relief. You’re not dead—but you would be if it weren’t for Genji.

The hotel room is fairly clean, aside from your bloody uniform that’s laying on the ground next to the bed. You blink a few times. You were on a mission—where did you get a spare change of clothes? Did Genji go shopping?

As if on cue, Genji speaks from where he’s sitting near the closed curtains. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” you admit. 

He nods, clearly not in a joking mood. “They won’t be able to extract us until tomorrow morning. Reyes set up this room for us and sent the extra clothes.”

That makes sense. There’s no way they’d be able to get you two out of the streets without drawing attention, especially after shots were fired. 

You rub the seam of the gauze, trailing over the wound subconsciously. 

“We should change that.”

You follow him into the bathroom, awkwardly sitting on the counter while he pulls out a grocery bag of first aid supplies. You pull off your shirt, embarrassed at the prospect of him seeing you half naked. At least you were unconscious and didn’t have to deal with the humiliation last time. 

You don’t miss the way Genji’s eyes graze over your skin, tracing the outline of your collarbone. It makes you heat up, thoughts of him kissing you there flooding your mind. You shake them away—he’s just helping you out. It’s wrong to think of him this way. 

 He peels off the old gauze covering, discarding it in the trash, before dabbing alcohol across the wound. 

You watch him work, fingers knowing what to do without him even thinking about it. He traces the outline of the gauze after he places it on your skin, cold metal fingers settling the hotter parts of you. 

You shiver under his touch, looking up at him. Genji looks back, dark eyes meeting your softer ones. You offer him a gentle grin. 

His hand moves from your shoulder to your hip, squeezing it. He finds himself leaning in, and you find yourself getting closer. And then just before your lips touch, he pulls away like he’s been burned. 

“G-Genji?”

He shakes his head, storming out of the bathroom. You follow after him, not even bothering to tug your shirt back on. 

“Don’t come near me!”

You furrow your brows at his words. “What? What’s going on? Did I do something wrong? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks!”

He tugs on his hair, repeatedly shaking his head at you. You can see the way his muscles are tensing, see the way he’s trying to show restraint. But why? 

“Genji,” you step closer to him cautiously, like you’re approaching a wild animal. “What is it?”

He keeps shaking his head, eyes focused on the floor, ignoring you completely. You take another step, only inches from him now. 

“Genji.”

“I’m a fucking monster, okay?” His outburst makes you flinch but you hold your ground. “I’m not even human anymore, and I have all these sick fucking thoughts about what I want to do to you and—you should just stay away from me, okay?”

“What kind of sick thoughts?”

“You don’t want to know,” his eyes finally meet yours. 

You step an inch closer, standing on your toes so that your mouth hovers near his. “I think I do.”

“Y/n,” he warns. 

You ignore the warning. You ignore all of the red flags. You ignore the voice in your head that says maybe this isn’t the best idea. You jump into his arms, smashing your lips against his and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

He turns you around to slam you into the wall, being careful to avoid reopening your wound. He’s so hungry for you, so desperate. His lips nip at yours like a man starved, all he wants, all he needs right now is to have you. 

He carries you over to the bed, tossing you into it before climbing on top of you and ripping off your pants. You’re left naked, shivering in anticipation at what he’s going to do to you. 

You don’t know how deep his cybernetic parts run, you hardly know anything about him, but he’s all you want. You tug him to you by his hair, making him kiss you again. One of his metal thighs slips between your legs, giving you something to grind your wet pussy against while you make out. 

His lips move down to your neck, biting at the sensitive skin. Moans force their way out of your throat, the sting of his teeth breaking the skin making your eyes water. 

Genji pulls back, looking at your teary eyes. The thought of finally having you like this, so vulnerable underneath him, is enough to make him feral. 

His hand is slipping between your legs, shoving two fingers inside of you with ease. Your wet pussy gushes around him, begging him for more. You whine at his roughness—but it’s so fucking good. 

He shoves them in and out of you, curling them inside of you in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His mouth finds its way to your tits, biting your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. The sound has his cock swelling even more, straining against the metal. 

He slips a third finger in you, stretching you out in such a delicious, amazing way. You moan his name, trying to let him know you’re getting close, but Genji is too drunk on the feeling of you to listen. 

He keeps attacking your chest with his mouth, leaving bruises and bite marks across your skin. It’s his way of marking his territory, of showing everyone who you belong to. 

He’s wanted this for so long, and he’s going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you. 

You cum hard on his fingers, and Genji stops just to watch how pretty you look when you cum. He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking off the juices and moaning at the taste. 

The sight of him is enough to make you horny again, and suddenly you’re thrusting your hips in the air, desperate for any sort of contact. 

“So desperate,” he teases. 

“I-I—”

He mocks you, popping off the metal plate from his crotch and stroking his cock. He rubs his head through your folds, collecting up your slick on his shaft. You’re already ready for him, your first orgasm prepping you more than enough.

He pushes his whole cock in, your walls straining to take him. He can’t quite get his whole length inside of you, so he pulls out and shoves it in again. He watches as he sinks in and out of you, the last two inches of his cock staying outside of the wetness he longs to be in. 

He’s bigger than you’re used to, and your pussy is already so sensitive. That doesn’t stop Genji, though. He keeps slamming his hips into yours, trying to force his cock inside of you. You whimper with every thrust, almost screaming when he hits that spot deep inside of you. 

Genji rolls his hips into yours, thrusting hard and deep. He grabs at your neck, strong hand gently squeezing. You gasp at the sudden feeling and the lack of oxygen, but the burning in your throat feels so good you don’t want him to stop. Everything starts to get fuzzy, and the feeling of Genji railing you starts to feel even better. 

You don’t even realize you’re cumming until he releases his grip on your throat and lets you breathe. The blood rushes to your ears. Your eyes have teared up from the choking, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. You go to wipe them away, but Genji pins your wrists above your head. 

The sight of you lying beneath him, whimpering and crying like he imagined has him going crazy. He keeps bullying his cock into your swollen pussy, thrusts getting sloppier by the second until he fully bottoms out and pumps his cum inside of you. 

“G-Genji,” you breathe. “Did—did you just—”

Genji’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, fucking his cum back inside of you. The hot mixture of his cum and your juices being fucked inside of you has you curling your toes. 

His pace is brutal, his mind only set on fucking you full and keeping you stuffed. He pushes your legs up into your stomach, fucking you into a mating press. 

Your vision blurs from the tears, your nerves overloading from the overstimulation and making you shiver. Genji fucks you through it, pounding into you, sure to get his entire length in every time. It’s not long before you’re cumming again, your body convulsing with your orgasm. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, but Genji holds them in place while he finishes fucking you. 

He reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, the sight of you sobbing only making him fuck you harder. God, he’s wanted this for so long and he’ll do anything to keep it. Anything as long as he gets to keep fucking you like this. 

“G-gonna finish inside of you,” he groans. “Gonna stuff you full. Y-you like that?”

You nod furiously, but you’re so fucked out that he could do anything to you at this point and you wouldn’t care. Genji cums with a string of moans and curses, cock twitching inside of you. 

He doesn’t pull out, instead, he lays on his side and tugs you so your back is pressed against his chest. He keeps his cock inside of you, holding his cum inside.

It’s not long before you’re falling asleep, Genji’s fingers tracing patterns on your stomach. For the first time in a long time, he feels like the anger and the darkness within him are sated, and for now, that’s more than enough.

[itsupermanti]

Fate/RWBY; Remnants of Silver Chapter 1; Shining Fragments

Ruby continues to stare up at the transformed Jaune in awe, before the scene pauses like an old VHS.

Let’s rewind, shall we?

The scene and audio begin rewinding like an old VHS tape before unpausing.

Blond Haired woman(crying out to a knight in silver armor with an aqua tunic): YOU WERE MINE!!!

The scene quickly starts fast-forwarding past the scene.

WHOOPS!!! TOO FAR BACK!!!

Jaune?(eyes green and standing before a black haired girl in the middle of a green house): I’m Saber, a servant who will protect you.

The scene fast forwards again.

Still too far back! Hold on…

Ozpin(sitting before Ruby in a police interrogation room): You have silver eyes…

Almost there! Aaaand, there we go!

Ruby(slumped down in a crater in Beacon’s courtyard): Welcome to Beacon…

???(standing over her with amusement in his voice): You know?

???(as Ruby slowly gazes up to look at the blond standing over her): There are much better places to rest than in a giant hole.

Jaune(smiling as he offers Ruby a hand up): Need a hand?

A few minutes later;

Jaune(smirking at Ruby): Well, what if I called you “Crater Face”?

Ruby(crossing her arms with a pout): That explosion was an accident!

Jaune(chuckling to himself in amusement): Sure~ it was…

Jaune(holding his hands up in a placating manner as Ruby turns to pout at him): Hey, calm down, it was just a joke, okay?

Ruby(glaring at the blond): Do you see me laughing?

Jaune(shaking his head with a small smirk): Okay, okay, message received, I’m sorry.

Jaune(pointing at his chestplate): Name’s Jaune by the way. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue.

Jaune(raising his brow in a suave manner at Ruby): The ladies love it.

Ruby(holding back a snort at the corny pick up line before raising a brow): Pfft! Do they?

Jaune(shrugging his shoulders): Eh, just give it some time.

Ruby(shaking her head in amusement): Well anyways, my name is Ruby.

Ruby(holding her hand out to Jaune): Ruby Rose.

Jaune(smiling as he accepts the hand and shakes it): Nice to meet you Ruby.

Jaune(neither of them aware of faint marks appearing on the back of Ruby’s hand): This feels like the start of a great friendship!

A few more minutes later;

Jaune(raising a brow as they enter the Beacon Auditorium): Seriously, how can a girl as small as you walk around with the weight of a scythe that big completely unbothered?

Ruby(giving him a playful pout): I’m stronger than I look, I drink milk!

Jaune(sweat-dropping at that statement): Right…

???(calling out to them): Hey Ruby! I saved you a spot!

Ruby(turning to spot her blonde sister): That’s my big sister Yang!

Ruby(turning to Jaune with a sheepish look on her face): I’m gonna go join her.

Ruby(her eyes narrowing into an angry glare): And chew her out for leaving me behind…

Jaune(shaking his head as he remembers how vindictive his own younger sisters can get): Yeah, I get that…

Ruby(giving Jaune a small smile): Catch up later?

Jaune(returning the smile): I look forward to it.

Jaune gives Ruby a wave as she turns and rushes towards her sister, before sighing to himself with a shake of his head.

Jaune(placing a hand on his waist as he sees Ruby head off into the crowd): I don’t know why…

Jaune(unaware of a redheaded girl in bronze and brown armor perking her head up and turning towards him): But I have a good feeling about her.

[cindol]

cotton candy princess reader and her gingerbread man nanamin .

nanami kento x black coded fem reader

tw + — candyland fantasy au ,

cw + — nanami is a gingerbread man but he still looks human in someway, everything in this world is candy based ( obviously ) , reader is low key an workaholic, nanami and reader are friends with some romantic tension, slightly suggestive massage,

syn — to help the cotton candy princess, nanami gives reader a much needed distress massage .

a / n 🍭 : was suppose to be a drabble but it’s more longer (world building sucks ) ! Left on a cliff hanger because erm me bad at endings

back to candyland . ​divider creds : @ / anitalenia

If there was one man who always could hold you down it was nanami, ever since his teen years of spraying that funny ginger snap smell on his blonde hair he was always there for you, just some royal girl with a pink cotton candy afro.

and he definitely knew when you had enough and overworked yourself.

“Nanami have you scheduled that appointment with peppermint knight gojo? I remember him talking about wanting armor updates..”

“miss y/n.”

“oh! And lord licorice, that man can be difficult but please do try and get in contact with his people so that we could come in agreement.”

“y/n..”

“and black milk painter! I know he just moved into this kingdom but I’d like him to feel welcomed by the people and me, please do send a bouquet of chocolate cosmos to his house!”

“y/n!” he said it in a louder tone than usual making you stop your rambling and pacing back and forth around your office desk.

He sighed scratching the back of his head.“I apologize for shouting princess y/n but I can’t help but say perhaps you’re stretching yourself too much..”

you hummed, agreeing but still kept to your original thought.“but I am the princess nanami, I have to stretch myself for these people, time doesn’t wait for me, only moves forward.” It was hard for nanami to get to you, you were just that much a workaholic, working for everybody but never for yourself.

Walking to you nanami put a hand on your shoulder.“yeah? Well this kingdom would need their princess in tip top shape. Time moves forward but I’m sure you can take some time to yourself for one day.” If there was a drum set in here you would’ve heard a comical ‘bddst!’ at his time joke.

you whirred, putting a hand on your chin. Nanami was your assistant, a smart one and you would take his advice just this once.“fine fine.. just for this day since I must.“

Nanami had a soft smile at that.“good, then I can show you exactly what I have planned for you.” that got a confused hummed from you.

unbeknownst to you nanami had been planning a private massage day for you with help from the peppermint knight gojo satoru. As much as he hated the man he knew what a woman needed to relax.

The room he used for the massage session was some abandoned bedroom in the candy kingdom. The lights dimmed, hard wax candy candles lit around the room and a pink massaging table long enough for you body in the middle of the room.

For you this was foreign. You weren’t someone who got your hands dirty but more use to working all day, all night for your people. You didn’t understand how this would help you relax really.

You only chuckled in this pink towel covering your body stopping at your legs. Near the massage table was nanami with his sleeves rolled up putting lotion on his cleaned hands.

“Didn’t know you’re the one giving me this ‘much needed massage’ .” you put quotes on the words with pointer fingers with a quirky giggle.

Nanami just shook his head smiling.“you never asked but again, I didn’t expect you to be the type of woman who would know about massages.”

“what? the pink dress I wear around didn’t make me come off feminine enough to know?” You joked making nanami falter and a slight blush on his face.

You sniggered at his reaction.“oh I’m just pulling your leg kento, now let’s get to this anticipated massage yeah?”

Once it came to the massage you didn’t expect nanami’s hands to be so…. skilled.

His hands smoothed out every uncomfortable crack in your upper back. He was making it hard to not make some hum or grunt.“mmph.. really working those hands of yours aren’t you?”

“Can’t help too, it seems like you’ve never heard of doing a good stretch in the morning, princess.” He innocently added that princess but it made you grumble and a barely visible blush on your face, you knew nanami didn’t mean it any teasing way but with how he said that nearly in your ear while massaging your naked back made you feel funny.

Before you could make a whitty comeback his hands went down to massage your lower back getting a sharp gasp from him and another funny feeling in your stomach.

That made nanami stop his hands massaging your flesh.“hey, you alright there?”

You just coughed, trying to cover up whatever little noise you were gonna make.“just caught me off guard.”

[in1-nutshell]

I wonder what would the Maxima being a prime stuff but with the other scenario

Where instead of Smokescreen saving Optimus, it was Maxima

I got to start making more comfort for our girl here...

Anyways!

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima becoming Maximum Prime (Altern. Version)

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Mention of character death (its Prime but he always comes back) Cybertronian reader

TFP

Everything was happening too fast.

Too sudden.

It seemed as if Maxima had just returned from a peaceful patrol and was now told to evacuate the only other home on this planet.

But it was happening and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it.

The only thing she could really do now was help ease the process for the younger members of the team and try and keep morale up.

Maxima gently placing Miko into Bulkhead’s alt mode. She was the last of the children to go. Miko: “You guys will be okay, right?” Maxima forcing a sad smile: “We’ll be fine Miko.” Miko: “…Okay, you better be. If not I’ll punch your lights out!” Maxima: “I don’t doubt it.” Maxima taking a shaky vent and holds out her digit so Miko could shake it. With that Bulkhead drives away. Maxima catching Smokescreen sneaking off and grabs his doorwing: “Your next Smokes.” Smokescreen grumbles a bit after getting caught. Maxima pats his shoulder and watches him go off through the groundbridge.

As soon as it was Ratchet’s turn though, the tears started escaping as she embraced the older medic tightly.

No one knew what was going to happen…

If this was her last time seeing him... she was going to make the most out of it.

Soon enough it was just her and Optimus.

Once the coordinates were set and the groundbridge whirled to life for one last go, the dam broke.

She clung onto her father so tightly, she was sure she had created new dents in both their armors.

Optimus immediately responded and hugged her back with almost the same tightness.

Maxima wanted to say something, anything to change his mind about going with her.

But she had gotten her stubbornness from somewhere and it wasn’t just Ratchet or Megatron.

With one last squeeze, she quickly transformed and sped into the bridge.

She had to do it quickly, if not she would have turned back.

Once through Maxima began to look around at her surroundings.

It took a couple of minutes to realize that this had been one of her patrol routes near the base.

She could still make it!

…All those happy thoughts however died the moment she saw a great explosion in the direction of the base.

Maxima didn’t remember screaming for him.

Nor when she transformed and drove straight into the wreckage of her home.

She did remember the moment she saw her father’s battered frame in the rubble of the base.

Maxima with wide optics and tears: “DAD!” She scurries over to him getting as much debris as she can and pulls him to a ‘cleaner area of the wreckage. She looks over at his wounds. Maxima forcing a smile: “It looks bad… but I can fix it! Just wait, I’m sure there’s some tools around!” Optimus: “…Maxima…” Maxima holding his servo: “Don’t talk, save your energy. Now if I can just remember where I put the spare tools—” Optimus: “Maxima…” Maxima holding the servo tighter as more tears start escaping: “I know I can-can find ‘em! Just hold on for a second—” POP! Optimus had opened his chassis presenting the Matrix of Leadership. Maxima is in shock. Optimus: “I… know how you feel about the Matrix… but now the team needs a leader.” Maxima: “That’s why I’m going to fix you!” Optimus coughing roughly: “My time with the Allspark is almost here… Maxima…” Optimus tries to raise his servo to her faceplate. She grabs it and presses it on her. He gently strokes one of his digits to wipe a tear. Optimus: “Do not cry for me… be our light in our… darkest… hour…” The servo started going limp. Maxima: “Optimus? Optimus!” She starts shaking his shoulders, panic settling in faster seeing his frame starting to turn grey. Maxima: “Dad! DAD! PLEASE DON’T GO! DAD PLEASE!... please… don’t leave me…”

Maxima hurriedly turns to the Matrix seeing it floating closer and closer to her chassis.

She grabs at the limp servo and quietly opens her chassis and closed her optics one last time as Maxima.

Maximum Prime opened her optics for the first time and saw the greying frame of the former Prime before her.

She began to stand up when she noticed the Forge of Solus Prime in the wreckage.

An idea popped in her helm.

Orion Pax opened his optics groaning. He looks up to see a tall bot that eerily looked like his sparkling. Orion: “Where am I? What is going on? Where is Maxima?” Maximum Prime gently places a servo on his shoulders giving him a kind smile. Maximum: “It has been a long time Orion Pax. I promise to tell you everything in time, but we must find our missing comrades before Megatron does.” Orion: “Megatron? Like Megatronus?” Maximum holding out her servo: “It is a long story Pax.” Orion grabbing her servo as they maneuver their way through the wreckage and finally to the desert. Orion: “I am rather fond of stories.” Maximum: “…This story starts with an abandoned sparkling and a friendly archivist…”

[bump1nthen1ght]

All the better to eat you with (Werewolf x M!Reader)

Pairing: Male!Werewolf x Male!Reader

Warnings: Dubious Consent, Explicit Content ahead (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 2004 words

Summary: You're walking the familiar path to grandma's house, when a friendly stranger offers you some protection. Unbeknownst to you, everything comes with a price.

Request: Can i request for a werewolf x male reader with knotting and breeding kink please? And can you like maybe make it base of the little red riding hood? Thank so much in advance bye!

“Y’know, red is a really good color on you.”

The stranger remarks, holding up the bottom of your red riding cloak. His voice is almost a purr, that lascivious smile on his face only a little bit off-putting.

“T-thanks, this is one of my favorites.” You brush off some imaginary dust from the cloak, feeling bashful under his undivided attention. “I have a blue one as well, but this used to be my older brother’s so…it’s kind of sentimental.”

The stranger smiles again, that genuine and unnerving kind.

“Well, I love it. I think red might be your signature color.”

The stranger throws a large arm over you shoulder, pulling you to his side as you walk. You nearly yelp st the sheer force, noticing just how tall he is; When standing right next to each other, you barely each his shoulder.

“Yeah, m-me too.”

—

Your mother had told you that there were dangerous things in the woods, but the stranger didn’t seem to be one of them. Even with his wide, wild eyes and his far-too big grin, he had offered to accompany you on the long journey to your grandmothers house. You had politely declined at first, you were a grown man and walked this path plenty of times before, but he had insisted. Not in a creepy way more like a…naive gentlemanly way.

You had given the stranger your name, to which he nodded and said you had a great name. He didn’t give you his, you didn’t press it.

He was enthusiastically touchy, talking your ear off with questions about your life and the food you had brought with you. He was an apt listener, his big yellow eyes never straying from your face as you talked. It was kind of nice, if only a little disconcerting.

So here you are, still by his side and only a mile left to your grandmother’s house. The sun was in the beginning stages of setting, but you would likely get to her home before dark. Even if not, the strong stranger gave you some comfort. He was built like an ox, with strong shoulders and a barrel chest. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t caught yourself staring at his figure a couple times. But hey, when he’s only wearing a tight undershirt, how could you not stare?

“We’re around 20 minutes away. Thanks again for walking me all the way here. I normally don’t mind walking alone but..this was quite nice.” You blush, trying to not let it show.

“Oh, it’s no problem! It wouldn’t be right if I had left a cute thing like yourself to fend by yourself.” He winks. “There are dangerous things in these woods, y’know. Things that would snatch you up in an instant.” He leans in close as he says that, his voice low and flirtatious.

You feel the hot blush across your face heat up even more. The stranger had been quite familiar this whole time, but never this direct. Maybe your stares weren’t so one-sided after all.

“Well, I guess I’m very lucky to have bumped into you, my knight in shining armor.” You chuckle, trying to match his coy way of flirting. It makes him laugh, but his wide eyes still stare you down, feasting on your entire body. “I’m sure my grandma would appreciate it too. Would you like to join us for dinner? She always has the best tea and biscuits.”

There's that cackling laugh again, all wheezes and smirks. His eyes crinkle up at the thought and you’re afraid he’s rejecting you, before he pats you on the shoulder. “I’ve never been invited in before! How sweet of you, little one, to offer someone like me inside.” He stops walking, the hand on your shoulder pulling you right alongside him. He turns you so you face directly towards him. His eyes are still lit up with that friendliness, his smile even wider, but there's something underneath it all. It’s something desperate, something knowing, something starved.

The stranger squeezes your shoulders together, making you wince a bit. His teeth seem whiter in the setting sun, larger, sharper. “Maybe next time, little red. But I think tonight I’m hungry for something else.” His voice purrs, his head cocking as he winks.

Before you can even suggest your grandmother make something else for dinner, he has you shoved up against the tree, your bodies moving faster than you thought possible. Your yelp is suffocated by his kiss, overwhelming and passionate. His large hands stop pinning your shoulders and instead wrap around your jaw, his large body now pressed against you and weighing you down. The moan you let out is downright pitiful and the stranger gobbles it up like a three-course meal. One of his hands moves down to caress your side, wandering down until he reaches your butt and squeezes. You yelp again, the stranger snickering into your mouth.

The stranger pulls away, saliva dripping from his lips as he forgets your head to the side so he can suck at your neck. Your hands claw up his back for purchase, too shell shocked to even speak. The stranger likes the feeling, like the feign of resistance, and growls into your neck.

“So perfect for me. So fucking perfect.” He laps and sucks at your jugular, nipping the skin around your jaw with desperation. You try to form words, but the breathe is knocked out of your when the sizable bulge in his trouser rubs against yours. He growls again, his hand squeezing your ass as he grinds into your crotch. You cant your hips upward, meeting the pleasure. The stranger chuckles. “Such a submissive little mate, so sweet for me.”

He hikes up one of your legs over his hip, grinding more fervently as he laps your skin. His warm drool drips down your neck, making your skin tingle. You moan again, digging your nails deeper into his back. The pain seems to make him more voracious, cackling as you scratch lines into his back.

The stranger finally moves back up to your mouth, trapping you in another hungry kiss.

“Say my name.” He orders, that crazed look still in his eyes.

“Oh..uh-” He barely lets you get out the question, forcing you into another kiss. When you get the chance to breathe, you mutter “I don’t-”

“It’s Mac.”

You nod your head, closing your eyes when he grinds against you. Biting your lip, you whisper, “M-Mac. That feels good.”

He finally pulls away from your mouth with a deranged smile, licking his chops.

“Perfect.”

Just like that he throws you to the ground, laying himself across you as he fiddles with your belt buckle. This has all been so overwhelming, so sudden, but you can’t say you hate it. Mac has got your blood searing, your cock raging hard.

Mac’s breath is heaving, was he always that hairy? On the ground, he almost seems bigger, impossibly so. He pants, a long tongue hanging out with his mouth. My…what big teeth he has.

You hear a shing, as if a blade was being unsheathed, then your pants are ripped open. Mac is pawing and tearing the fabric, sharp black claws cutting through like scissors. His eyes glow in the setting sun. What’s that on top of his head?

“I’m going to make you mine.” He mutters, sucking on two of his long fingers.

“What-” but you can’t even finish the sentence, Mac easing two of his fingers right into your asshole. Your cock jerks and your hips instinctually shove backward at the intrusion, but Mac keeps a firm grip to keep you in place. He sets a brutal pace, stretching you open with a fervor. You can’t even catch your breath, can’t even speak. His tongue lolls out of his mouth as he looks at you, a heavy blush darkening his cheeks as he admires you.

“Have to prepare you…so small, so fragile. So good for me.”

Another gasp as you feel his fingers grow larger inside you. How is that even possible? You throw your head back, covering your eyes to hide from the pleasure. All you can hear is Mac panting, the schlick of his slobbery fingers as they fuck you. But then there's more fabric tearing, no, bursting at the seams. You force your delirious eyes upward, your heart stopping.

Above you is Mac, but he isn’t human anymore. The long tongue now hangs out a muzzle full of sharp canines. His undershirt lays ruined to the side, not able to contain the extra muscle and fur of the beast above you. No, the wolf above you.

“That's good enough.”

Before you can get a word in, Mac is yanking his fingers out and folding your legs backwards toward your face. You can’t feel the burn amidst all the sensation, only noticing a jingle as Mac undoes his belt buckle, pulling out his large cock.

All you can do is moan, bend to his will. Mac smiles, that same wicked smile.

“I’m gonna breed you, mate.”

And without another word, he shoves his cock deep inside you, stealing the air right out of your chest. Your nails caked in dirt as you dig them into the ground, biting your lip until blood is drawn.

It’s too much, too much-it’s too good.

Mac pants, his mad eyes burning deep into your skin. A clawed paw reaches down and grabs your jaw, yanking you to look at him. Drool drips from his jaw and onto your chest, his tail wagging desperately behind him.

“Look at me, look at me.” He keels and whines, swiveling his hips against yours. The crack of shock that rubs up your spine makes you moan, which Mac laps up like its the sweetest treat. “Ugh, you’re gonna take my knot so well. I know it, I know it.”

All you can do is nod your head, your dirt-caked fingers finding purchase in his fur. He lets you yank him closer, the warmth of his chest a contrast to the wet dirt beneath you.

When Mac thrusts in earnest, you swear you lose feeling in your legs. But even so your ankles hook around his shoulders, pulling him in for more and more. Your cock weeps precum, burning and begging to be touched. But Mac is a wolf on a mission, chasing his own high with delighted barks. He keeps that firm grip around your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek with a shocking sweetness. Mac never closes his eyes, content to watch you come undone under him, watch the way he wrecks you.

The slap of skin-on-skin and your heavy pants rings in your ears. You pray your grandma hadn’t wondered if you got lost and came to find you, because the sight of you was surely filthy. But with your cock twitching and a ferociously handsome wolf on top of you, it’s becoming harder and harder to care.

You can feel Mac’s dick throb inside you, a distinct whine coming from his chest. He claws his grip into the ground, his ears twitching as he looks down at you.

“Yes, here it comes. Take it, take it.”

You’re not sure what it is, but there is no way you’re not taking it. Your hips jerk as the rubber band reaches its most taut, your orgasm so, so close.

“F-fuck, fuck!” You moan, yanking and tugging on Mac’s chest fur as you explode into climax, cum spurting all across your stomach. With a final thrust, Mac shoves his hips into you and throws his head back into a howl, a warmth expanding inside you.

This must be it.

You ponder, letting out an ‘oof’ as Mac collapses on top of you. Still inside you, he nuzzles his muzzle into your neck, his hands gently rubbing your sore hips and thighs.

“So good for me.” He pants, licking up your throat with half-kisses. “My sweet little red.”

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 6

Part (6) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Bit of a shorter one today, but figured that was better than holding out for another week!

Warnings: reference to previous medical procedures (blood/ needles), wound cleaning, some, uh, tension, child trauma

WC: 2,648

“Still alive up here?” I called warmly as I entered the cockpit. Echo’s helm tipped back to look at me with what I knew to be an unamused stare.

“How’re they doing?” He asked, attention turning back to the viewport. I moved closer to him before answering, sitting lightly on the edge of the copilot’s chair as I set my pack between my feet.

“Tech and Crosshair are still out. I can’t fix Tech’s arm while we’re moving, but I got a chest tube in Hunter.” I didn’t have the strength to hide the exhaustion in my voice, adrenaline finally quelling now that no one was in imminent danger. “Wrecker’s knee still needs to be reduced, but I might have to rig a damn pully system to pop it back into place.” I added with a deep sigh. “The girl will be alright – minor burns here and there, but nothing a little bacta won’t fix… Which just leaves you.” Forcing some feint of strength back into my voice, I tilted my head expectantly toward him.

“Not a whole lot you can do while I’m flying.” He dismissed. “Only have one hand to steer with. What’s the story with the girl?” Ignoring his excuse, I pushed myself back to my feet and walked around the chair to his injured shoulder.

“Not sure yet,” I replied, attention clearly focused on the task before me. “Don’t crash us. They found her where the senator was supposed to be.”

“Doc.” He grumbled, trying to shrug me off.

“Echo.” I retorted in the same tone. “I can get some bacta on the worst of it, at least.” His chest swelled in preparation, I was sure, to voice some further argument, but I cut him off with a sharp look and he let out a deep sigh.

“Apparently,” the conspiratory lilt in my voice offered both distraction and gratitude as I removed his shoulder pauldron, stance carefully widened to better steady myself in the event of sudden turbulence, “she saw Tech and immediately threw herself at him.” The very edges of my lips pulled up in a poorly restrained, knowing grin as Echo’s bucket dropped slightly, breath held lest a barely silenced snort escape him. “He had to carry her all the way to the ship.” I continued, “And I’ll give you one guess who she clung to while he was piloting.”

“Oh no…” He couldn’t fully suppress the threat of laughter from his hushed sigh.

“Yup.” The word popped with that same mirth, pleased to note the ease in his posture as I brought my sheers to his shoulder, snipping quickly through the ruined fabric to better expose the burn beneath.

“Echo…” I couldn’t help the groan in my voice upon seeing the wound, nor the huff that followed at how he pointedly avoided looking away from the viewport. “I swear, if you’re about to say that you’ve had worse….” I interrupted the instant he started to respond, and the silence that followed was more than enough to justify the accusation.

Releasing a tense breath, I stepped away from him a moment to dig back into my bag.

“Want me to numb it?” I offered, voice instantly dropping into a soft murmur. He didn’t answer at first, but I was already readying the medication. He hated burns. He didn’t need to explain why; not with me, and I hoped he was far passed feeling any need to pretend otherwise. When he gave a small nod, I didn’t try to hide my own relief as I returned to his side, hand reaching out to rest lightly on his forearm in some silent show of support or appreciation or some unspoken combination of that and so much more, before touching the autoinjector lightly against the blackened skin.

There were moments in which I hated our armor. I hated the distance it created between us when I so desperately wanted to offer the comfort of a gentle touch. I hated the harsh veneer it forced upon the brilliant, kind-hearted people within; hated how it sought to rob them of their individuality in the Kaminoan’s endeavor toward perfect, unthinking uniformity, but in that moment, I was grateful for it. I was grateful because it granted the man before me a mask to hide behind that he might be free to let his face twist in full display of the pain suffered beneath my ministrations. I longed for him to feel no need for such a façade with me but wasn’t so naïve as to feign otherwise, and his comfort was of far greater importance than my pride.

“I’m going to try to get under your rerebrace a bit.” I warned, already shifting the plastoid tube awkwardly down his arm just enough to reach the edges of marred skin. He offered neither argument nor consent, attention locked on controlling the ship absent what wretched distraction my actions caused, but I could feel the full breadth of tension coiled through his toned body, could see the powerful muscles about his shoulder flex, steering column of the ship groaning beneath his iron grip. I didn’t bother voicing another warning as I did the same with his chest plate, carefully cleaning away the layer of charred, dead skin before smearing the raw flesh beneath with that soothing, blue gel.

“Almost done.” I promised quietly, movements far more delicate now as I slipped a bandage over the wound, eager to keep the edges of his armor from grating against it. My hand lingered for a moment longer, palm spread atop the sterile fabric gleaming stark white against the darkness of his ruined blacks, fingers spread just enough for my thumb to feel the heat radiating from his chest, to catch the steady thrumming of his heart.

He'd barely made a sound when he’d been hit; had played it off so effortlessly in the exhausting hours that followed of helping me drag Hunter through those endless corridors while taking out however many dozens of droids tried to stop us, voicing no hint of complaint or hesitation. I hated the feeling of admiration just as much as I hated how desperately worried for him it made me.

His helm shifted ever so slightly, gaze dropping toward that soft touch for several seconds before lifting just enough that I was sure he was looking at me, and I felt my eyes turn toward him as though no opaque visor lay between us, as though I could see the pale gold of eyes that had known far too much pain; eyes that I longed only to see shining with carefree bliss as they had when we floated in the crystalline pools of Deveron, before the chaos of my brother’s death and the confusion of everything that followed.

The subtle rhythm dancing beneath my thumb quickened, breath shallowing as he suddenly went still, and in that moment, those long weeks of silence vanished. I remembered the first time I’d heard him laugh – truly laugh – back when I was a stranger, a threat, who’d trapped him into trusting me before revealing how that trap had backfired and asking for his help after all. I remembered the safety I’d felt from his presence after being attacked by that mercenary Sergeant. I remembered holding him as he trembled with the afterimage of nightmares I couldn’t imagine, and I remembered how he’d held me in the wake of losing myself to a grief that nearly broke me after losing my brother.

Echo was the first one among this squad to give me a chance, the first I truly considered to be my friend. The weight pressing against my heart from how ruthlessly I’d pushed us apart crippled me, fingers subtly tightening in some subconscious plea to keep him near me, if only for what few seconds of quiet might be stolen in the too-short flight back to the Marauder, and the way his body seemed to turn toward me, to lean into that touch with the same selfish, impossible want left my breath shuttering slightly with promises and apologies and whispers that could never be granted voice.

“Doc!” My head jerked up at Wrecker’s hushed shout, chest bucking with a sharp gasp. Swallowing back the swell of emotion still lingering just on the verge of breaking through, I snatched his pauldron and quickly began reattaching it to his shoulder.

“Try not to move it too much for at least a couple hours.” I ordered, already dashing around him to grab my bag. “And drink some damn water, or I’ll shove an IV in you, too!” The added threat thrown over my shoulder was made in jest if only to feign some useless façade of ignorance to the tension yet lingering in his silence.

“Wrecker?” I called breathlessly as I raced back into the cabin, still trying to convince myself that my heart was racing solely from fear that he’d summoned me because of some imminent medical disaster. The towering clone only briefly met my eyes before nodding toward one of the seats beside him, and I followed his gaze to see the cowering figure of the small girl curled into the crash cough, tiny fingers trembling as they locked around the oversized harness strapped all around her.

Lips parting with a small gasp, I quickly went still, hands slowly raising, body automatically lowering to a knee. Bright, green eyes darted around, pupils dark and blown with a fear I knew too well.

“Hey, sweetie.” I murmured, voice as gentle and soothing as I could manage. “I know you’re scared, but I promise you: no one here is going to hurt you.” Those eyes darted from me to the still unconscious form of Crosshair across the aisle and then to Wrecker before returning to me. “That’s Crosshair,” I told her quietly, “He got bumped around a bit, just like you, but he’ll be alright, and the big guy behind you is his brother, Wrecker – he gives the best hugs you’ve ever felt!” Wrecker offered a tentative smile as she peaked nervously toward him. “I think you already met their other brother, Tech.” I added, pointing, and I felt myself smile at the flash of familiarity that washed over her upon following my gesture. After telling mine and Hunter’s names, I took a small step forward, relieved that she didn’t balk at my advance.

“I bet those burns don’t feel very good.” My heart broke at the way her chin quivered slightly, head shaking as her arms pulled even tighter against her chest. “I have something that’ll help. I promise, it won’t hurt.” I added warmly, movements slow as I pulled a tube of bacta from my bag. Recognition lit in those shockingly expressive eyes and, without further prompting, stretched a leg out toward me. My breath caught in a quiet chuckle as I pushed myself up and crossed the few meters between us.

“No change with the others?” I asked Wrecker as I kneeled before the girl. He merely shook his head. Hunter and Tech, I expected little improvement from, but I didn’t like how long it was taking Crosshair to wake up. Resolving to check on him soon, I turned my attention back to the child.

“The place we found you was pretty scary. Do you remember how to you got there?” I asked. She watched carefully as I smeared some of the bacta onto my fingertips before gently dabbing it onto one of the larger burns on her shin, lips still pressed firmly together. “That’s okay,” I reassured her, worried that the memories might be too much for her to willingly talk about. “How about your name? Can you tell me your name?” After several more seconds of silence, I paused attention shifting from her dappled legs to those piercing eyes.

“She wouldn’t tell Tech, either.” Wrecker whispered. I tried not to let my uncertainty show, forcing my expression back into a warm smile before moving on to another patch of burnt skin.

“You know… we were looking for someone when Tech and Wrecker found you.” I said, voice dropping into a whisper as though it were some great secret, and her attention instantly shifted back to me expectantly. “He’s this really special Senator. Maybe you’ve heard of him?” I shot Wrecker a pleading look, cursing myself for not paying more attention to the man’s name.

“Uh, yeah; real special. Gno.” He stammered slightly, belatedly realizing what I was asking. A sharp gasp caught in the girl’s throat, her fear forgotten as she sat upright, hopeful gaze darting between us.

“Looks like you know him?” I teased, and she nodded so violently, the safety harness jangled around her. It wasn’t a huge jump to guess how, but I voiced the theory regardless. “Is he your dad?” Again, she nodded, lips parted around excited breaths, but, still, she made no effort to speak. I had to fight to quell the nervous dread stirring in my gut. Why had they taken the girl? Had they accidentally left her father behind in that abhorrent maze of underground tunnels? If they had, he’d be impossible to retrieve now…

“Was he down there with you?” I asked, pointedly ignoring the way Wrecker’s gaze had already darkened with the same theory. The girl paused before giving a halting nod, but then she shook her head and pointed up. My head automatically twisted to follow her gesture, but Wrecker didn’t miss a beat.

“They took ‘im away in a ship?” She looked at him for a long moment before nodding, and I couldn’t decide if I should be relieved or even more hopeless toward the prospect of him ever being found. “Maybe Tech can track ‘em. Doubt there’s a whole lot of folks coming and goin’ from that place.” I flashed him a brief smile before turning my attention back to the girl.

“We’ll just have to ask him when he wakes up.” I said as I finished the last spot on her leg. “Are you hungry? I bet they didn’t have anything tasty to eat down there.” The pleading look in her eyes made my heart twist, and I quickly reached back into my bag for ration bars and offered her a few different kinds. “Choose whichever color you like.” She bit her lips in that undeniably innocent display of childhood excitement as she reached for one. After helping her open it, I tossed another bar to Wrecker with a knowing grin.

“Alright, let’s see what’s going on with Mr Tall, Dark, and Grumpy.” I said, smiling reassuringly to the child.

Crosshair still hadn’t moved, and I couldn’t ignore the growing unease gnawing at my chest as I approached him, teeth absently nipping at the inside of my lip. I’d just begun reaching for his helmet when it suddenly shifted toward me, and I couldn’t silence the sharp gasp that tore from my throat nor the way my body jumped as my heart nearly leapt from my chest. His head shifted slightly in that mocking, judgmental tilt that instantly drew my lips back into a snarl.

“You kriffing-”

“Ah.” He interrupted, and I could hear the smirk in his raspy voice, “language.” The smug, chastising lilt drew several more curses to my tongue that I pointedly bit back, and his shoulders danced beneath a silent laughter. I tugged his bucket off with a touch more force than was necessary, treasuring the flash of annoyance in those sharp eyes.

“Look who’s awake!” I called over my shoulder, smile returning to my lips as his jaw tensed with understanding before I turned to see the girl watching us from across the cabin. “If you’d like, I bet Crosshair would love to keep you company for the trip.” I offered, and I had to bite back laughter of my own at the quiet grumble that caught in his throat.

Next Chapter

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[sallownights]

Hello, can I request an Ominis x reader? Maybe something with angst and a lot of fluff? I’ll let you choose what it’s about, or if you’d prefer not then it could be about something with the reader getting hurt. Thank you!!

i think he knows

word count: 2.9k

CW: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. leander slander. they kiss, idk

A/N: anyways, i think he knows is a good song. banger song. also thank you for the request🤍🤍 i had a fun time writing this and i think i genuinely giggled a total of 14 times. my girlfriend proofread this 😐

pairing: ominis gaunt x f!reader. implied imelda x garreth?

Ominis had been searching for Y/N almost the whole day. Poppy had told him that she was in the Room of Requirement. However, when he was there, she wasn’t. Sebastian told him she was in the Undercroft, again, not there. Imelda had even tried to help Ominis look for Y/N with no such luck. He had even asked Garreth if he had seen her, but no such luck.

The castle was vast, there was a possibility that he just got unlucky when looking for her. Ominis couldn’t shake the feeling that she may be avoiding him. While he was walking towards the Slytherin common room, he heard a hushed argument down the hall. He stopped in his tracks, trying to decipher what was being said.

“Sebastian, I am fine. I’m just tired,” Ominis perks up hearing Y/N’s voice.

“You’re clearly not, your robes are in tatters. The ‘armor’ you wear is practically torn. Your eyebrow’s bleeding and Merlin knows what else!” Sebastian’s voice rang out in Ominis’ ears. His mind starts going quickly. Had Y/N gotten hurt? Where had she been?

“I’m fine.” He can hear how she’s quickly getting aggravated. He hears her footsteps get closer before she cries out in pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You just- Y/N. You’re clearly hurt. Ominis has been trying to find you all day. What would he think?” He hears Sebastian plead with Y/N, something he didn’t do very often.

“I just- I just needed to take care of something. Ominis would be fine. I’m okay.” Ominis frowns at her words. He’s not fine. He feels awful.

“Did you really? You wouldn’t care if I go find him and tell him that you’re all bloody?” Sebastian’s voice gets stern with Y/N, again, a rare occurrence. It’s normally the other way around.

“No! No- I just… I’ll tell him. I don’t want him to hear it from you. You’ll make everything worse. No offense.”

“I still am taking offense.”

“I said not to.”

“Well, fuck you, I am.” Ominis smiles at the two bickerings, deciding to walk out to where they can see him. He wanders towards their voices.

“Hey Y/N. Sebastian.” Y/N’s eyes get as big as mooncalves when she sees Ominis.

“Hey, Ominis… Sebastian and I were just-” She looks at Sebastian and he shakes his head. “talking about how I got hurt earlier.” Y/N says with a sigh and looks down.

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Sebastian walks away, patting Ominis on the back.

“Is that where you were today? Fighting?” Ominis’ voice was a little tense, worried she was upset with him. He was so infatuated with her that even when he should be upset, he just wanted her to be happy with him.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N looks at her hands. They were covered in dirt and blood. She wasn’t sure when her blood started and stopped.

“Why don’t we go to the Undercroft? Or your Room of Requirement. I know how much you dislike the Hospital Wing,” He carefully wraps his arm around her shoulder, he hears her wince and drops his arm to her waist.

“Room of Requirement might be better. I can brew some wiggenweld when we're there.” Ominis nods and helps Y/N walk. They get to a floo powder station, taking them to the Astronomy Tower. He knew she wouldn’t be able to walk up all those stairs while hurt.

The door appears before the two, Ominis pushes it open, helping Y/N move inside.

“I can walk, it’s okay.” Ominis shakes his head.

“No, sit down. Let me take care of you.” Y/N blushes. Her head feeling a bit woozy. She’s not sure if it’s from blood loss or from Ominis’ caring nature.

Ominis helps Y/N sit down before he rushes off toward a first aid kit he made her keep in the room. It wasn’t the first time she had come back bloody. Ominis brought a bowl, rags, and the kit over to where Y/N was sitting. He brought himself to his knees, the bowl next to him. He quickly cast Aquamenti, filling the bowl with water.

“Give me your hands, love,” his voice is quiet, not wanting her to think he was upset with her. She places her hands in his. Ominis wets one of the rags he brought over before beginning to scrub the dirt and blood off her. He hears her wince every now and then.

“I’m sorry, love. I’ll be done with your hands soon.” He feels around her hands, feeling for any parts that feel grimy or sticky. When he can’t find any, he smiles and puts her hands down against her softly. He casts a spell quickly to figure out where her other wounds are.

“Okay, a pretty big gash on your back and one on your leg. I’m gonna bandage you up and then we’ll be done, okay?” He brings a hand to her cheek. She nods weakly. He frowns and stands up, helping her take her makeshift chest plate off and her bloodied shirt. He moves her so she’s standing up so he can wrap a bandage around her. He brings a new rag to her back, feeling her shiver at the cold sensation and wincing every now and again. He presses kisses onto her shoulder trying to bring her some comfort.

Once the scar is clean, he starts bandaging her, wrapping it around her back and waist. He kisses her shoulder when he’s done with that. He walks over to the dresser Y/N has kept in the room in case she wants to get changed into something comfier. He feels around for a fresh shirt for her to wear. He smiles feeling an embroidered flower on the shirt. It was a shirt he had given her. One he never wanted back because she sounded happy to wear it.

He walked back to her, helping her put on the new shirt. Y/N started taking off her trousers so Ominis could bandage her leg. It wasn’t bleeding nearly as bad as it was. He has Y/N sit down again, lifting her leg to wash it. When he finishes getting the blood off of it, he wraps another bandage around her leg.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, he can hear her voice breaking. He lowers her leg, moving closer to her. His hands rest on her thighs, drawing circles into them with his thumbs.

“Love, it’s okay. Just come to me next time, okay? I promise I won’t be upset with you.” He presses a soft kiss to each of her knees.

“Okay, thank you for helping me,” Her voice was still, quiet. She sniffles, and Ominis reaches a hand to her face, wiping away a few of her tears.

“Of course. I’ll always patch you up. I would prefer it if you brought more wiggenweld when you’re out. Or Sebastian, he always offers.”

“Oh, Merlin. I don’t mind going with him sometimes, he’s just a bit much sometimes. I just wanted to be alone.” Ominis nods.

“Do you need to talk about it, love?” He brings himself closer to her, kissing her cheek. Her face gets warmer as her face goes crimson.

“It’s embarrassing,” she whines. Ominis chuckles at her antics before standing up.

“I’m sure it’s not. Do you want to lay down, love? I’m sure you’re sore.” Y/N sighs, taking Ominis’ hands to stand up. He brings her into a soft hug, kissing her shoulder again.

“C’mon, love.” Ominis softly takes her hand, leading her to the bed she conjured in the room to take naps between classes. Y/N smiles as Ominis helps her walk. His touch was so quick to calm her down. To bring her back from the confines of her mind. Ominis helps her onto the bed before he walks to the other side. He takes his shoes off carefully, discarding his robe as well.

When Ominis lays down, Y/N was quick to snuggle next to him. He wraps his arms around her, bringing his warmth with him. She clutches his jumper, glad to be next to him. They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing a warm embrace. Ominis is careful when Y/N brings her legs to get tangled with his. He puts her injured one above his. He places his hand on her thigh, keeping her close to him. They don’t talk enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence, feeling safe and happy in each other's presence. Ominis brings a small blanket above Y/N when he feels her shivering.

It wasn’t unusual for the two to cuddle. Y/N always found comfort in Ominis’ arms. Ominis wasn’t one to complain either, the idea of keeping her in his arms was one he rather fancied. Keeping her out of harm's way. The way she went to him when she was sad. Or happy. Or excited. It never failed to bring a smile to his face. Neither of them ever expressed feelings of anything more. Worried they would ruin a friend they hold so dearly to them. So, cuddling was their best option.

This wasn’t the only way they shared their affection though. She would carry Ominis’ books from class to class while their hands were intertwined. Ominis often heard from Sebastian that Y/N looked at him like he was the greatest thing in life.

“Love?” Y/N looks up at Ominis, he presses a soft kiss to her forehead again. “What was it?” Y/N groans, trying to pull back from Ominis but he has a firm grip on her.

“It cannot be that bad,” Ominis says, reassuringly.

“You have no idea,” her face flushes. Ominis slides his hand up her thigh before placing his hand on her face.

“Just tell me. I promise you I won’t judge you.” Y/N licks her lips looking at how close Ominis is to her. His moles gracing his face so beautifully.

“It’s so stupid, I was telling Poppy the other day-”

“You told Poppy?” Ominis exclaims quizzically.

“Uh… maybe?” The shyness in Y/N’s voice returning. It was always intriguing to Ominis how someone as powerful and confident as Y/N could be so incredibly shy sometimes.

“Who else knows?” his voice is teasing as he brings his lips to her head again.

“Uhm… Sebastian. Imelda figured it out on her own. I told Natty too-” He chuckles hearing the list of people.

“Darling, it cannot be that embarrassing then.” Y/N groans again and covers her face with her hands and mumbles something quickly.

“Darling, c’mon. Move your hands.” He softly pulls her hands away from her face, kissing her nose.

“You won’t laugh?” Y/N pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Promise.” Ominis takes his hand and crosses it over it his heart.

“I am not above hitting a blind person,” Ominis chuckles and shakes his head.

“What is it?”

“I have this stupid crush on… someone. It’s so dumb and whenever I’m with them my brain gets all muddled and I get so worried I’m going to say the wrong thing. I feel like I can’t breathe whenever they're around. Like, whenever they touch me, my brain stops for a few seconds before I realize we’re in the middle of a conversation. My face is always so red too. I blush like fucking crazy and it's just… stupid.” Ominis’ thumb rubs Y/N’s thigh as she talks. He takes in her words carefully, trying not to let his disappointment show on his face.

“Okay… do I get to know who?” Y/N groans again. She goes to cover her face but Ominis is quick on the draw and catches her wrist.

“Oh Merlin, don’t make me say it,” He kisses her wrist causing her ever-present blush to deepen.

“Should I guess?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Why not?” Y/N’s voice is quiet. Ominis takes a moment to think.

“It’s not Northcott, is it?” Y/N giggles.

“Ew, no. Oh, wait, that sounds mean. No, it’s not him.” Ominis laughs, continuing down his list.

“Garreth?” He hears Y/N gag and he shakes his head, “Okay, not him. Natsai?”

“Why are you only guessing Gryffindors?”

“I’m going house by house. So, Natsai?” Y/N makes some sound that makes him nod and move on.

“Oh, Merlin, it’s not Leander is it?” Y/N lets out a loud laugh. Ominis joins her. She clutches onto his shirt to try to calm down. He brings his hand to her face, kissing her forehead before breaking out into another set of giggles.

“Sorry, sorry. That’s so rude of me. No, no, not Prewett.” Ominis nods again, moving to the next house.

“Amit?” As he holds her face, feeling her shake her head.

“Okay. Poppy?” She shakes her again.

“No, Pop is a really good best friend though.” Ominis nods. He knows Poppy had been there for Y/N many times. How they were also rumored to have saved a dragon. He didn’t know Poppy well, but with how many times Y/N spoke of her, he felt like he was her good friend. Y/N did sneak Poppy into the Slytherin common room enough for sleepovers though. Somehow never getting caught by prefects.

“Sebastian?” Ominis’ heart rate picks up a bit at the thought she might like his best friend.

“Ew, no. Sebastian is like an annoying older brother.” She quickly responds. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“I’m not going to entertain the fact it might be Imelda.” Y/N giggles and shakes her head again.

“No, Imelda is head over heels for Weasley. You didn’t hear it from me though.” Ominis smiles and nods. He had heard how the girl was slightly nicer to Weasley but if anyone asked about it, she would through some string of insults towards him.

“Oh, Merlin, I don’t know. Me?” Ominis says, half-joking. When Y/N doesn’t answer he smiles.

“Did I guess right?” Y/N smacks his chest lightly.

“Maybe,” He turns to face her, his hand stroking her cheek. Their foreheads touch as their legs get tangled together, causing Y/N to wince when she slotted her legs between his. He whispers a sorry against her forehead, leaving a kiss there. Ominis kisses Y/N sweetly, he smiles into the kiss. Their lips meeting in a soft and tender kiss. A kiss he had been wanting to do for the past year. A kiss he had wanted to do since he had gotten to know her. She was here, with him. He never wanted to be anywhere else. Without saying a word, they get closer to each other, The kiss is full of passion and tenderness, reflecting their deep feelings for each other. They wrap their arms around each other, deepening the kiss as they explore the connection they have always felt but never acted upon. The kiss ends, Y/N pulling Ominis into a tight embrace.

They lay there, in each other's arms. Ominis runs a hand up and down Y/N’s back softly, trying not to hurt her. Y/N hums softly in Ominis’ ear. It’s some orchestration she made him listen to. One he listened to as often as he could because she loved it so much. Neither wanted to break the silence.

Eventually, Y/N let their grip on Ominis go, moving back to bring him into another kiss. This one is more passionate. There is a deeper sense of familiarity and comfort between them, as they have already experienced the thrill of their first kiss. They explore each other's lips and Y/N nipping at Ominis’ bottom lip. Eventually, their kiss deepens, Y/N’s hands in Ominis’ hair and Ominis’ hands exploring Y/N”s curves. They savor the sensation of being close to each other as the kiss ends.

“I think I know who you have a crush on.” Ominis jokes, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s cheek.

“Oh, shut up.” She kisses him quickly before backing away, enjoying the warmth of his body. They sit there in silence. Ominis traces the curves of her face, wanting to feel every part of her. To know every minute detail.

“So, what now?” Y/N breaks the silence. Ominis moves his thumb to her bottom lip, tracing it.

“How do you mean, love?” He tilts his head slightly.

“Like, what… what do we do now?”

“Oh, I suppose I should court you correctly.” Ominis sits up quickly, Y/N jumps slightly at the sudden movement but sits up too.

“Y/N, you are truly wondrous and I would be honored if you went out on a date with me.” He holds her hands gingerly, bringing them to his lips, the kisses soft. Y/N lets out a soft laugh before answering.

“Ominis, I would love nothing more than to go on a date with you.” A smile breaks out on Ominis’ face as he leans in to kiss Y/N again, but stops before coming to a realization.

“Oh, this makes so much sense now.” Y/N’s eyebrows furrow.

“What does?”

“Well, Sebastian once told me that you look at me like I’m a broomstick.” Y/N tilts her head quizzically.

“Huh?”

“It’s highly improper.” Y/N laughs, a bit confused.

“I’m literally half naked. Your hand is on my thigh. We’re past improper.” Ominis chuckles before leaning close to whisper in her ear.

“You look at me like you want to ride me.”

[fanfictionalraven]

Dream Warriors Chapter 10

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 10

Summary: Can our Dream Warriors make it out alive?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, other original characters

Word Count: 3,112

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author’s Note: The grand finale!! I can't believe it's really over. This series has taken me a long time to finally get completely posted. I'm pretty proud of it. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Let's see how it all ends...

Read Chapter 9 here.

Still laying in Dean’s arms, you let out another scream. Dean glares up at the witch as she continues to smirk at the two of you in the floor. 

“I’ll kill you. If you take over her body, I will kill you,” he threatens. 

“See, I don’t think you’ll be able to. I know how she feels about you and, from her memories, I’m pretty sure you feel the same way,” she says as she walks over and kneels down next to the two of you. “It’s so cliché. The two best friends who are so madly in love but too afraid to cross that line. I’ve seen that movie a hundred times. I think I’ll change the ending.” She rises to her feet and moves over to the refrigerator in the room. Pulling the door open, she looks in and grabs a bottle of water. “Maybe I’ll get the guy.” You grit your teeth and lay your head back against Dean’s shoulder, another pain hitting. 

“If I don’t make it, you better rip her apart,” you tell him. He presses a kiss to your temple and shakes his head. 

“You’re gonna make it, Sweetheart,” he says before moving to prop you up against the counter. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. The witch looks over and smiles widely.

“Oh, you wanna fight?” She asks, setting the bottle on the counter. “How adorable. The knight in shining armor, willing to die for his love.” You let out another scream and watch in horror as Dean charges at the witch. She merely laughs and with a flick of her wrist, sends him flying into the opposite wall. “Dean, Dean, Dean…” She says as she walks over towards him. “I’ve got the power here. I am in complete control.” He forces himself up and swings at her, knocking her back, stunned. “Why you little…” She snaps her fingers and Dean screams out in pain. 

“Stop!!” You scream out, watching as he twists in agony on the floor. “Stop!! I’ll give up!!” She looks at you and raises an eyebrow. You swallow thickly, fighting tears. “Let him go, let him wake up, and I’ll give up. I’ll stop fighting.” 

“Y/N, no!!” Dean calls out through gritted teeth. 

“Please,” you beg. The witch watches you for a moment before snapping her fingers once again. Dean stops screaming and sits back, leaning against the wall behind himself. “Send him back,” you tell her. 

“I will. Calm down. How did you get here though?” She asks, looking back at Dean. He sets his jaw, staring her down. With a smirk, she raises a hand towards you and Dean’s eyes widen. 

“A different spell,” he tells her in a rush. The witch nods her head slowly as she thinks this over. 

“Like a backdoor…fascinating,” she says mostly to herself. You watch her and frown. 

“Send him back,” you say once again. She glances at you and with a wave of her hand, Dean disappears. You let out a sigh and lay your head back against the counter. “Can we at least stop this charade?” You ask. She waves her hand once again and the pain fades away along with your overgrown stomach. Closing your eyes, you can feel the life slipping away from you. It wouldn’t be long now. 

“So many regrets,” the witch says, watching you. You glance at her and frown. 

“Please stop reading my mind,” you tell her. She laughs lightly and crosses her arms. 

“All those different scenarios…all those different plays…this was your favorite,” she says. You sigh and close your eyes again, trying to ignore her. “A normal, happy life. Completely domestic. Married and a baby on the way. You two could have really been happy.” 

“I’m just gonna picture Dean killing you now, if that’s okay,” you tell her. She laughs as she sits in one of the chairs at the table. 

“I don’t get it. You’re so obviously in love with him, enough to die for him now, but you never said anything. Never made a move,” she says. You groan and shake your head. 

“This is not how I pictured the end,” you mumble. She watches you for a moment before waving her hand once again. The kitchen scene disappears and is replaced with a more familiar one. “This isn’t my room,” you comment. You were now resting in Dean’s bed in the bunker. She smiles from her chair across the room. 

“You’d rather be in here and we both know it,” she says. You lean back against the headboard with a sigh and close your eyes, thinking about the last time you were really in here. Dean had been beaten up pretty bad on a hunt and you’d stayed the night with him, watching over him and taking care of his wounds. “This is getting sickening.” 

“Well it’s still my mind for a few more minutes. I’ll think about whatever I want,” you tell her. 

“You could at least picture him naked,” she mumbles causing you to actually laugh out loud. The laugh dies out quickly as you grimace, squeezing your eyes closed a little tighter. As you lose yourself in different memories, one flashes through your mind and you quickly tuck it away before she has a chance to see it too. It wasn’t a happy one. Dean was a demon, hunting you and Sam in the bunker. You’d taken refuge here in his bedroom, a place you knew was stocked with hidden weapons. 

“Why didn’t you just kill me?” You ask, forcing yourself to sit up. She glances over at you and rolls her eyes. 

“Loophole in the spell. I can inflict pain. I can cause injury but I have to drain the life from you slowly,” she explains as she checks her nails. You nod slightly and swing your legs over the side of the bed. “What are you doing?” 

“I just want to stretch my legs,” you tell her. You knew your legs were too weak to support your weight and that’s what you were counting on at this point. “Spell seems complicated. Have you done it before?” You ask, trying to keep her talking so she wouldn’t be as focused on you. She sighs and lays her head back. 

“Hundreds of times. I’ve been jumping bodies for centuries now. I’d lost my book in the last jump when I landed in this…child. Kaylee,” she sneers the name with disgust. You glance at her and frown. 

“Not a fan of the name?”

“Much too modern,” she says, looking at her nails casually.

“And what do you prefer? Eve?” You question, earning a laugh. She glances over at you, smirking.

“Hardly.” She eyes you for a moment as you continue to gauge your strength. “Morcant was my given name. Of course, you people have modernized it. Morgan.”

“If you’ve done this so many times, why did you need the book?” You ask, standing up carefully. Your legs wobble beneath you. She sighs now, seemingly exasperated by your continued questioning.

“If you must know, it’s the source of my power. Without the book, I’ve got nothing,” she says. It’s only a moment before your legs give out, as you’d expected, and you collapse to the floor with a crash. The witch looks at you and starts to laugh, rising from her seat. “Not as strong as you’d thought, hmmm?” She taunts, dropping down next to you. Your hand slips under the bed and immediately comes into contact with something cold and metallic. You look up at her and smirk. 

“No. But I’m strong enough,” you say before pulling the angel blade from under the bed. You drive the spike into her stomach and she screams out in agony. 

“You bitch!!” She spits through gritted teeth. Something flashes in her eyes briefly before she smirks. She waves a hand and… 

You sit up suddenly with a gasp and take in your surroundings. Six eyes are watching you closely, all shocked. Sam. Cas. Rowena. The pain surges through you suddenly and you let out an unearthly scream as you fall back into the pillows. You’re immediately aware of the body next to you. Despite the pain coursing through you, you realize that Dean is next to you, still unconscious. 

“No,” you mumble, trying to reach for him. You hadn’t noticed Sam had left the room until he comes back. 

“What’s that?” Cas asks. Sam uncaps the syringe and grabs your arm. 

“Morphine. I took it from the hospital,” he tells him before stabbing it into your arm. It acts quickly, numbing the pain. You feel the pull to go back under and reach out for Sam, to ask him about Dean. He takes your hand in his but the drug takes its full effect before you can get the words out. 

You come to some time later, groggy and confused. You aren’t in the bedroom anymore. Now, you’re in the dungeon, strapped to the chair in the center of the room. The pain is still very much present but it isn’t as bad as before, the morphine still working. The door to the dungeon opens and Sam steps into the room. 

“Sam! Where’s Dean?” You ask. He watches you for a moment then looks down the hall. 

“Rowena, she’s awake,” he calls out before stepping into the room fully. 

“Did Dean wake up?” You ask, trying to pull against the restraints. The younger Winchester ignores your pleas, arms crossed over his chest. Rowena steps into the room now and walks over. She blows a fistful of powder into your face, causing you to cough. “The hell??” You gasp, triggering the pain in your side. 

“Truth spell,” Sam explains. You stare at him for a moment before you nod, understanding. 

“Please, hurry,” you beg. Sam waits for a moment, allowing the spell to take full effect. You groan in agony, hanging your head. “Sam, please.” Rowena looks at him and nods once. 

“What’s your name?” Sam asks. Something rushes through you, a tingling sensation, as the spell works. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you tell him quickly. You can visibly see the relief wash over him. 

“What happened?” He asks as he rushes over to untie your wrists. 

“Got an angel blade from under Dean’s bed and stabbed her,” you explain. He frowns and nods. “Where’s Dean?” 

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” he says. His words wash over you. That wasn’t possible. 

“No. No, she was supposed to send him back,” you tell him. He looks at you and shakes his head slightly. 

“What?” He asks. 

“I made a deal with her. I’d give up if she sent him back. He…he disappeared,” you say, looking up at Rowena. Her brow furrows as she thinks this over. 

“Did you see her die?” She asks. Sam gets you free from the chair and you move to stand quickly. Too quickly. You fall into Sam immediately and he wraps an arm around your waist to support you. 

“No. I just…woke up,” you tell them. You begin to pale and Sam frowns. 

“Alright, let’s get you back in bed,” he says, scooping you up into his arms quickly. You shake your head. 

“No!! We have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam starts down the hall and glances back at Rowena. 

“What do we do?” He asks. You groan and lay your head back, closing your eyes. The pain was coming back with a vengeance. 

“This is tricky,” she says, shaking her head. Sam carries you back into the bedroom where Cas is examining Dean. The angel looks up from Dean’s still body and manages a small smile. 

“It’s Y/N?” He asks. You look over at him and nod quickly before your eyes fall to Dean. 

“Rowena, what happened?” You ask as Sam lays you on the bed once again. 

“Could she have jumped to Dean? Could she control two bodies at once like that?” Sam asks, looking at the witch. You force yourself up onto your elbows to watch them. 

“That would take…decades of practice,” she says, shaking her head. 

“She has it!!” You tell them. They all look at you. “She said she’s been doing this for centuries. Jumping from body to body.” You gasp suddenly, remembering. “The book!!” You attempt to force yourself up from the bed but Sam reaches over, stopping you. 

“What about it?” 

“She said it’s the source of her power. Without it, she has nothing,” you explain as you try to sit up. Cas brings Sam another syringe of morphine and you frown at him. “No!! I have to help Dean!!” 

“We’ll figure it out. You can’t even stand right now. Rest,” he tells you, but you shake your head defiantly.  

“Send me back,” you say, looking at Rowena. “You sent Dean in. Now send me.” 

“That’s too risky,” Cas says, frowning.  

“I don’t care about the damn risk!! I have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam nods slightly.  

“Okay. Yea. We’ll send you back. Just lay down. Let Rowena get the spell ready,” he says. You watch him for a moment before laying back against the bed once more. Your eyes land on Dean, next to you on the bed. He looks like he’s peacefully sleeping but you can only imagine what she’s doing to him. The slightest pinch in your arm draws your attention quickly. Sam empties the syringe into your arm as you stare in disbelief. 

“You lied.” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, rising to his full height. Tears flood your eyes as you feel the drugs taking over once again. “We’ll destroy the book and you’ll both be fine.” 

“I love him, Sam,” you cry. 

“I know,” he says, brushing your hair from your face. “And you can tell him that as soon as you wake up.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead as the morphine pulls you under once again.  

***

Some time later, you come to once again, just as confused as the last time. This time you hadn’t been moved. You’re still lying in Dean’s bed only now you have a blanket draped over you and you’re completely alone. Sam, Cas, and Rowena were nowhere to be seen and Dean was no longer next to you. Carefully, you rise to an upright position, wincing only slightly at the pain in your side. A gunshot wound and broken ribs were not a good combination. Forcing your stiff limbs to move, you get your legs over the edge of the bed just as the bedroom door opens. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asks. You break into a wide smile, and if you could, you’d run and tackle him. 

“You’re okay!!” You proclaim. He laughs as he walks over. 

“I’m always okay. You need to lay back down,” he tells you. Shaking your head quickly, you hold a hand out for him. He takes your hand in his and sits down next to you on the bed. “You need more medicine?” He asks as you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t want to go back to sleep right now. I’ve been out for long enough,” you say. He laughs lightly and nods before dropping a kiss to the top of your head. 

“It’s good to see you awake,” he says, his voice soft. 

“Could say the same for you,” you tell him. He lets out a small laugh drawing you to look up at him now. “What was it?” 

“She did pretty good. Had me think I woke up just before she finished you off. Guess she wanted to see if I actually could kill you,” he says, his eyes set on some far off point. Taking his face in your hands gently, you pull him back to look at you. 

“Hey. Whatever happened, whatever you did, it wasn’t real, okay? I’m fine,” you tell him, but he shakes his head quickly. 

“I couldn’t do it,” he confesses. “I thought if I knew it wasn’t you, if I knew you were gone, I’d be able to put my feelings aside but…” He trails off and you bite at your lip. “We need to have a talk about that will of yours too because that is too much pressure.” 

“Will?” You ask, eyes widening. Oh God. “You mean…” 

“Arnold showed up. Gave me your letter,” he tells you. Staring at him, your mind races. He read the letter. The letter you’d written at a very dark time, spilling your heart onto paper just for him. 

“You really weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. Dean laughs lightly and presses his lips to your forehead. 

“Then maybe you should be a little more careful about what spells you get put under,” he teases. You laugh at this and shake your head. 

“She’s dead, right?” You ask. He nods quickly. 

“Burst into flames right in front of me,” he says. “They burned the book out here, so she…” He makes an exploding motion with his hands, complete with sound effects. You nod your head slightly. “You don’t seem as excited about that as I thought you would?” 

“Nothing feels different. I was hoping I’d be able to feel that this was real, to know she was gone, but…” You’re cut off abruptly by Dean’s lips against yours. It’s a gentle and chaste kiss only lasting long enough to shut you up. 

“That feel real?” He asks. You swallow thickly and nod, unable to speak. That kiss was different from the ones in your dreams. His lips were more chapped than they had been in your mind. There was whiskey on his breath.

“That letter…” You say, trying to refocus your mind from the kiss. “I was in a pretty dark place and…”

“You’re the best part of my life too,” he interjects. “You’re…everything to me.” Your heart swells at his words. It wasn’t much but it was all you needed to hear. You immediately pull him back into another kiss.

This time, neither of you hold back, allowing every ounce of your repressed feelings to come to the surface. Your dreams couldn’t even begin to compare to the way his touch set your skin on fire as his fingers grazed just below your shirt. He leans in closer, an attempt to lay you back on the bed. You let out a soft, pained gasp as you pull away from him.

“Easy,” you mutter, trying to catch your breath. His eyes widen immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. You laugh lightly and shake your head.

“Give me a few weeks to heal up, then you can get carried away,” you tease. He smiles widely before resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says. You press your lips to his once again, softly. Despite the pain emanating from various places on your body, you’d call this moment perfect. You’d even go as far as to say it was…a dream come true.

The End

Thank you so much to everyone who has enjoyed the story!! I hope the ending was satisfying!! A special thanks to everyone below…

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @alisyacsa @lailawinchesterr @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @deans-baby-momma @demons-eats-pie-too @brightlilith @kazsrm67 @onlyangel444

[pursuitseternal]

“Cleansing:” bathing smut and surprises in “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Named Tav (F!OC) | E | 4.6K of the calm before the storm

Summary: Securing rooms at the Elfsong was the easy part. The harder part, overcoming the wash of memories from their separation before. They both need a good cleansing, one where they will indulge each other.

CW: angst, banter, bathing handjobs, I was told to “let them fuck like rabbits” which is implied, one more memory flashback, and danger.

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 16: Cleansing…

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

“Does it… have to be here?” Cordehlia turned her cute little nose up at the smell in the tavern. To the rest of her party, it just seemed like she didn’t enjoy a stay at a public inn.

To Astarion, now he knew, it was sheer loathing, disgust, and almost a century of pain this place forced her to confront.

The Elfsong.

“Gale said the keeper is giving us the rooms for free, since we…” Shadowheart whispered behind her hand, all sneaky, “know about the murder upstairs…”

“It seems cheap here,” she shrugged beneath her armor. “Seedy, disreputable.”

“Sounds like you’re describing your intended, Cordehlia,” Gale taunted with that friendly smile. Even though it didn’t meet his eyes. Still that lingering jealousy and doubt she knew.

“Please,” Astarion laughed off the slight even as he put his arm around his love’s shoulders. “I was the son of a High Lord once, Gale,” he grimaced at the name on his tongue. “Cordehlia’s right, however, a place for disreputable debauchery and plotting, the Elfsong,” he laughed with a wave of his elegant hand. “We will all fit right in, I’m sure. Besides, we can't beat the price, and I won’t be sleeping on the streets.”

“Well,” Gale grinned again, perhaps a bit forced, “Can’t argue with that. Keeper said up the stairs.”

The party moved ahead, barely noticing that Cordehlia lingered back, rigid in Astarion’s arm. “Why here…” she huffed. “Won’t the keeper recognize his regular?” she hissed with spite.

“Darling, I haven’t hunted here for decades. It’s not even the same innkeeper.” He placed a kiss on her temple, feeling how her jaw clenched. “Maybe it’s time we make some pleasant memories here… together,” he purred right into her pointed ear, tracing up its delicate point with a feathery touch of a single digit.

She giggled at the tickling touch. “Fine,” she huffed. “But don’t expect me to spread my legs so easily. You’ll need to work for it if we stay here, my love. You have many years to make up for, you know.”

“Oh I know,” he smirked, one hand sliding to pull her in for a kiss by gripping the curve of her ass. “I am well aware of that fact, and that you will never let me forget it, my darling.”

He followed her up the tavern stairs, letting her slip from his arm’s hold. Lungs burned as he held his breath, worried and plagued with his old memories of his place. He tried to force them back down in the dank dungeon where he kept all those feelings from his centuries of torment. From all the targets, victims, hazy moments of disgust he had endured. He could swear it made his undead heart rap with dread. Calmly, slowly he stilled his breath, even as it grew more rapid and ragged as he climbed those same fucking stairs as he had a thousand times before.

This time was different, instead of trailing after some miserable wretch, some target, all he could see was the sway of Cordehlia’s hips and the way her ratted, unkempt, fiery red hair matched that rhythm down her back.

That made the panic subside.

As long as he had her, he would survive this.

The hall opened to a massive suite, a grand chamber filled with a dozen beds and every amenity. It was off limits to the likes of him before; he had only ever been here once, fortunately not on Cazador’s business. That night was fuzzy in his mind, a jumble of fear and exhilaration he recalled, slipping in the shadows with his contraband before being compelled back to the palace. A few moments to himself to steal a moment of respite…

Shaking his mess of curls, he followed Cordehlia towards a corner bed, one tucked away at least a bit, a few slatted screens here and there for privacy.

He smirked as she set her pack down, her toned shoulders rolling themselves out finally relieved of its weight. So graceful and lithe, she made quick work of her armor, dropping back a step at last to see him waiting at the foot of the bed.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she gestured to the massive collection of rooms.

But he only slipped his bag from his shoulder, dropping it on the mattress beside her from a great height.

Letting it fall, his claim to her space.

“Oh, my love,” she tugged its great weight over the covers with effort, “this one is mine…”

“But darling,” he grinned, snatching the bag from her hold and letting it rest at their feet, “what’s yours is also… mine.” Growling that last word, he swept her in his arms, pushing her back into the feathered bed. She yelped and giggled as she fell to his attack, his thin elven armor flexible enough for him to cover every inch of her unbound body. He kissed her, there in front of them all, pushing her legs apart even covered in the light metal that clung to his frame. Her hands dug at the bare skin at his nape, lips dancing with his, all in time with the buck of her hips.

“Insatiable minx,” he rasped between her pumping lips. “Why do you pretend?”

“I’m not, my love,” she chuckled, “you can have the neighboring bed…”

He hissed at that, caging her into the bed all the harder. Mouth trailing quickly to her neck, he sucked on the supple flesh, the skin already scarred from his fangs, bringing her blood to pump there all the faster before he…

“Ah,” she moaned, her skin giving way to teeth, sending her right to the edge of her climax in an instant. He sucked loudly, lapping and popping his lips from her flesh just to draw attention.

“For fucks sake, get a room!” Karlach guffawed from across the space.

“We have one,” Astarion laughed, sarcastic and dark as he raised his blood-drenched face to speak. “You just happen to be in it.”

“In all reality…” Cordehlia pushed her palm against his turned cheek, shoving him up with all her might. “You stink, my love.” She laughed, managing to lift him only slightly from her frame. “You need a good cleansing bath.”

“Tch,” he huffed and frowned in indignation. “I would never say such a thing, even if it were true.”

She scowled, “How loving of you…” Teasing, with just that hint of sarcasm behind it, she doubled her effort, a smile on those rosy lips of hers before she braced against his neck and lifted.

Crimson eyes wide, Astarion smiled wickedly in return. Obeying. Relenting as he raised himself from her body, his own muscles ached to return, taught with the need to do what they always had done in this tavern, longing to fuck her until she was incoherent, this time for pleasure and not from coercion.

But instead he huffed, sliding the plates of his armor off, watching her bare feet tread across the wood floorboards. He could smell her, as he said. But it was more than pleasant. That scent of her sweat, the way her arousal’s musk instantly filled his nose the moment he bit into her neck…

But first, he gathered himself, glancing around to ensure a moment of privacy before he adjusted his growing erection at her scent still in his nose. “Fucking hells,” he groaned as he dug out of his pack to get his cleanest clothes, all the way at the bottom of his bag. Finally, he fought with all the trinkets and loot in his sack to pull out a fresh set of trousers, when something heavy landed on the floor with a thud. One delicate hand reached to gather it up next to his feet, the green, leather bound tome right in her pale palm.

Cordehlia narrowed her eyes at the title embossed on the side in gold. “The Curse of the Vampyre?” she scanned the book and then locked those silver eyes with his, questioning, mischievous and suspicious. “Some light reading while I bathe?”

“Just a little research, darling,” he slipped it from her grasp to tuck it in with his clothing.

“How to kill Cazador?” she speculated, turning to head towards the now-steaming tub in the side of the room. That look she threw him from over her shoulder sent an instant shudder of warm desire to his groin.

“I think I’ll follow my instincts on that one, my love,” he chuckled, dark and tickled with the promise of violence. “No, no,” he hummed as they stopped at the side of the tub, watching as she closed the slat-screen separator, just a bit of privacy despite the wash of voices that floated around the suite. “I’m just… preparing for what it might be, between the two of us.”

Cordehlia slipped from her trousers, that hem of her undershirt barely covering that sweet apex of her thighs. Astarion swallowed the huffing moan he could have made. “Hmm,” she tossed him a smirk before turning her back on him. That little cream shift tugged up over her head as she let her voice lilt and flirt, “and what might that be for us? An eternity in love as Mistress Cordhelia Ancunín?”

“Close, my darling,” he set his clothing in a jumbled mess at his feet. The clean ones, too. And Cordehlia rolled her eyes as she watched him. Arms crossed over her bare breasts, she gave him a rueful yet desirous smile. He made no extra show, tugging his ruffled shirt off from over his one head, juggling the book between his grip. “You see, there’s a difference for a Vampire Lord in the creation of their servants or equals, whoever they should choose to make their own… to make them powerful like them…”

“Whatever fits their fickle, half-formed plans?” she taunted, stepping herself into the water, dunking her long, gnarled hair into the water.

Suddenly, tenderly, two hands fished her long hair from the water. Cordehlia turned slightly, his smirking face grinning with total mischief as he used those skilled hands of his to work the snarls from the end of her hair. A little rose scented oil on the tips of his fingers, and he worked them each out. No noise but the rasp of his breath down the back of her neck as he leaned over the tub. Warm water barely heated his touch, the pads of his touch brushed her cheek. Her head leaned into his palm, but a gasp from her lips slipped out as she felt his other hand close around her breast. His teeth scored over the sensitive shell of her ear, a whispering laugh tickling the inside. “Who’s to say I would be fickle… or have half-formed plans, if I were a Lord?”

A fang dragged over the soft curve of her earlobe, making her sigh, half-swallowed as her back arched at the sensation. “So… if you turn… if you can ascend, that’ll make you…?” she whispered, voice thick in that milk white throat of hers as she turned, water splashing in that tub as she swiveled.

“Lord Astarion….” He sighed, an intense and dreamy look in the dark red of his eyes. “Vampire Ascendant.”

“Is that what’s in your book, my dear? Is that what you’ve been researching?”

“No,” he rasped, standing as he slowly brought his hands to the waistband of his leathers. Pale fingers slipped the small buttons barely holding it closed free one at a time. “If you can’t tell… it’s you and your wellbeing that’s on my mind, darling…” Hands tugging that flap apart, his cock sprang free, and he couldn’t help but give a low, rumbling chuckle as she bit her lip at its sight.

Cordehlia slid over a smidge, her own lithe fingers massaging through her damp hair. Silver eyes were locked on his every move, the way he slipped from those leather pants, the way he slowly sank into the waters beside her.

The way his own right fang peeked out as he chewed his lip and wrapped his arms around her body at last. “I’ve never met one before, never even heard aside from rumors of their existence among my kind. They are rarely created, the perfect match for a Vampire Lord, the perfect threat to them too. But they say there is no greater love than a trusting Lord and his loving… Bride.”

She shivered in his arms, shaking her whole body despite the swirling steam that surrounded them.

“That’s what you want… isn’t it?” he purred right into the folds of her ear again, a single hand stealing underwater to run down her belly. “To be mine… forever?”

Her mouth opened, he could hear it, feel it in her jaw, but no noise came out but breath. Not until he slunk two fingers between her thighs, finding the even warmer, wetter slick that gathered there.

Her legs bent under the water, feet braced on the side of the cloth and wood of the tub. But he slowed his hand, dragging a single fingertip, a single nail even, over that hard little clit of hers. “You have to tell me, darling, if you will be mine… no matter what…”

Her hand reached behind her, clawing into the mess of his own damp curls and slotting her body between his own clenching legs. “You know my answer. It’s the same. It’s unchanging. Constantly beating yes when it comes to you, Astarion, for two-hundred years.”

“I’m so pleased to hear it,” he hissed, gratifying the little bucks of her hips by sinking his long fingers deep inside her channel. “Best keep it quiet though, I would hate to offend the rest of our group’s sensibilities…”

“You would love to give them offense,” Cordehlia snarled back, pulling him by his hair to whisper back in his own ear. Giving him just what he gave her. “You would love to make me give little whimpers, make me moan your name just loud enough to have one of them chastise you, hmm?”

“For what?” he growled back, starting to pick up his pace as he stroked her and crooked his touch inside her. “For being the consummate lover I am? For making you, the great warrior, whine for me, my little pet and darling?”

A hand reached behind her, her fist closing firmly around his cock, making a noise not unlike a moan come from his own throat through his gritted teeth.

“So are you going to share your research…” she pumped him, hard in grip and slow in measure, as she rode his fingers. A smile on her face. “Going to tell me more about what you think might happen?”

“Three bites,” he panted, those fingers of his working inside her, determined to make her squeal and come first. “And then… I drink you almost dry…” His voice in her ear is feral, more monster than man, and Cordehlia shivered, rapture taking hold at his touch and words and… all of him.

“Go on…” she murmured, voice thick in her throat, even as he hand gripped tighter and sloshed more water as she tried to keep up with his own fingers fucking inside her.

“I give you my blood, letting it fill you and make you mine. They say it will be far more pleasurable than anything you have ever… ever… experienced.” He panted, her thumb sweeping right over that spot only she knew, beneath the dip of his head. His thighs clenched, his balls tightened. “Gods,” he groaned, too close now to back down.

“And then I would be your Bride?” she replied, trying so hard to sound perfect and calm, hiding her own approaching pleasure with a pressed and quiet tone.

He held his breath, scoring a nail over that patch inside her, the one he knew always pushed her, careening towards her climax. “Yes,” he finally ground the single word out, definitely louder than he had hoped. “You’ll be your own being, your own set of powers linked to mine. We will walk in the sun, share our minds, share every bit of pleasure and … pain.” He whimpered loudly, too loudly, as she tugged and fondled him mercilessly.

A knock sounded on the divider, Shadowheart’s lyric voice only a bit muffled from the other side. “Can you hurry it up? The longer you take, the longer the rest of us poor peasants need to wait until it’s our turn…. And we obviously need to get fresh water now…”

“Shut up,” he growled, that hand on his cock not slowing a second even as their moment was invaded.

“Shh, play nice,” Cordehlia corrected him, hand leaving his shaft for a moment to clutch those smooth, hard balls in her palm, tight and ready to burst any second now. “Two people in one tub deserve twice as long, logically. Give us five more minutes.” She called so politely.

Their cleric huffed and stamped away, but not before her fingers stroked that flushed, fleshy head in their touch. Once, twice more, she pulsed that grip and stars covered his vision. Coils of heat burst inside him, spurts of cum sullying the water, and best of all, her own cunt flared and clenched in time. Her freehand flew to her mouth, covering it tightly to not make a sound. But he had her, the extra oily slick of her arousal shot around his fingers, her thighs shaking in the water as she bucked out her climax on his touch. And just when she neared the supple pleasure after, fangs sliced into her.

Her shoulder was pierced once, twice, three times. Nips in rapid succession until the final one. That, Astarion let his teeth sink fully into the crook of her shoulder, savoring the sweet, almost floral bouquet of her blood on his tongue. Filling his belly.

Her head rested back against his chest, body limp and warm. A comforting weight against where his heart would have beat, a sad smile on his lips as he released from her neck. Tenderly, he didn’t want to disturb her, he nuzzled into her damp red hair. As he breathed in, that rose-scented oil barely masked her own floral scent.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but maybe she needed to know….

“There’s a bit more to the Dark Kiss… umm the way that a Bride is made…” He trailed off as she turned. Her face was lined with confusion as she wrapped her legs around him in the water, looking hopeful, worried, waiting on his every word.

Astarion sighed. “It’s a bit dangerous,” he continued at last. “Once you wake to feed for the first time, you… you won’t be yourself. You will be feral, ravenous,” he paused, realizing the weight of his words, “dangerous. I’ll have to subdue you to make sure we both remain safe…”

“Alive you mean,” Cordehlia nodded, sage and slow as his meaning took hold. She looked over his shoulder, eyes distant as she thought for a moment. “More than anything, Astarion, I trust you.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tighter, hiding the way tears stung behind his eyelids and the way his jaw wanted to tremble.

“Besides,” she shifted closer to him, running a hand down the ridges of his belly to grip him by the balls again. “You will love the chance to subdue me for once, even if it’s in unfair circumstances.”

Astarion swallowed the grunt at the delicious pressure she put on him, turning it to a laugh. “You're no different you know, not letting me bend the rules so I can win, just like when we were children.”

“Never,” she shook her head, coy smile and flirtatious glints in her eyes. “I’ll never let you off free, not even if you are some exalted Lord.” Those lithe fingers clutched one more time harder around his manhood. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way, my love.”

“Whatever makes you happy, my darling,” he purred, still hiding that lump in his throat. That niggling guilt over what he had done before, now that he knew. Now that he remembered. “I’ll try to be worthy of all that trust you have in me.”

She leaned against his chest, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer. A tender smile turning one corner of her lips, she kissed him. “I know you will.”

There was so much to be done… but for this evening, for tonight, they all rested in comfort for once. Every other member in their group gave them a massively wide berth, treating them like newlyweds, letting them hide behind the dividers around their bed, ignoring the little noises that came from behind it. Only once a meal was brought out did Cordehlia leave their little hideaway, just long enough to avoid everyone’s knowing smirks and make a simple plate of cheeses and breads.

Then her bare feet hurried back, for a moment of silence before the subtle and constant rustling resumed from behind those partitions.

A few hours later, silence finally fell. Night in the city was still so loud, too loud. And Cordehlia just couldn’t trance no matter how hard she tried. Even as Astarion fell into easy rest beside her, one arm braced behind her head and the other resting on his belly as it rose and fell. He was comfortable here, his home away from her for almost two centuries. That old pang of bitterness flared in her chest, and she sat aright. All she could hear was soft breathing in the night.

She looked out the window, dawn just starting to break with light. Climbing from the bed, she slipped into her clothing, that fresh cream undershirt, sensible black leathers. She would be quick, that pain from her past pushing her to return one more time to that place where agony had taken root.

One more glance to his beautiful, pale, naked body resting in their bed, she kissed her fingers and pressed it featherlight to his forehead. She’d be right back. One last visit to his grave to close the pain of the past.

Boots on her feet, she reached for her dagger. Just the one, her most favorite, if only to make her feel completely dressed; it would just be a jaunt around the corner to the graveyard, a couple of turns in the safety of the sun before she would return. And after all the ways he’d had her last night, she was sure he’d trance his way through that time.

She stepped silently through the dim room, paying no heed to anything other than that door, than her mission to bid the past farewell for good.

Astarion turned in his trance, his sleep restless and uneasy, the memories of being in the Elfsong mostly inflicting those little cuts and wounds of torture from his past as Cazador’s spawn. Except that one time he had been in this suite of rooms….

His dream swept him back to that time, the way his feet hurried away from the other spawn sent there with him to hunt. That little piece of paper in his hand secreted beneath his arm as he hurried silently up the stairs, picking the lock quickly into this empty set of rooms. It hadn’t been hard to find a dark corner, a loose floorboard…

He didn’t know why it was so important to him, but he had known he wanted to keep it. Even if he couldn’t bring it back to the palace, even if he knew that stealing away from his siblings and coming home empty handed tonight meant a spell in the kennels and a session with Godey. His chest rose and fell with the thrill of insolence. That parchment, that news flier unfolding in his hands made him smile.

Eyes scanned the words too quickly to really take in the story, some account of a battle… some fearsome tale of this warrior goddess… All he could do was stare at the printed likeness of her face on the paper. Black and white, just ink and fading parchment, but he had wanted it. And when Petras had tried to tug it from his fingers, he had snarled and disappeared into the crowd. Now he could savor his treasure, enjoy his stolen goods.

She was alluring, that long hair drawn to tease behind her, that sculpted body covered in dark armor, her face hard and fearsome and yet… something about her lips taunted him. Coy and teasing, beckoning him to look closer.

And closer he did look. His mind had raced over the words, no memory of them now almost a century later… but he remembered clearly what he did with that image in those few stolen moments. How his cock had hardened instantly, how it had been only a few moments of rough and dry handfucking for him to come.

How he had wiped himself clean quickly, breathless from actual pleasure for once in his long, broken memory, before he stashed that flier with the pretty She-elf on it under the floorboard.

Astarion bolted awake at last. Hardly noticing he was alone, he scampered from the bed, tripping as he slipped on his trousers too quickly and scuttled across the suite to the opposite corner.

“What in the hells are you doing, Fangs?” Karlach huffed a laugh, amused and annoyed as she had to hurry out of his way.

He said nothing, fingers pulling the wood up to free that long lost, buried treasure. Flinging himself against the wall, he shook his head. If he didn’t have company, he would have, could have cried.

Victory of the Bone Picker.

Clear as the day that dawned outside the window, he finally took the time to look at the words. To look into the printed eyes of his love.

He knew, somehow all those decades ago, he knew.

“Damn, Fangs, is that Cordehlia?” Karlach peered from the other end. “You knew that was here… you saved it here after all this time, didn’t you?”

“I guess so,” was his honest reply. Those crimson eyes looked up wide and shining wet. “Where is she?”

Karlach shook her head, taken aback. “Isn’t she sleeping her climax marathon off in your bed?”

“No,” he suddenly went rigid. Standing, flying to his feet to peer around the rooms. “Has anyone see Cordehlia?” he couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice now.

Gale looked up from his book at that. “She went for a stroll early this morning, first light. I don’t think she saw me here… not that she pays me much mind at any rate…”

“Shh, shh,” Astarion hushed him right up once he sounded as if he would start another one of his diatribes. “Not now, Gale,” he snipped. “That must have been an hour ago already, so where is she?”

“You could always use our little friends,” Gale suggested, two fingers tapping on the side of his head.

“You mean reach out?” the Vampire frowned.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” the Wizard gave a terse reply. For once.

Astarion closed his eyes, feeling the waves of the tadpole’s power emanating from his mind, searching for the other end.

Something faint returned. A flash of a cemetery, a headstone with his name on it, and a pair of glowing red eyes and stringy black hair staring down at her before… darkness.

Silence.

Nothingness.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Our Blood will update again in 3 days, so your arms don’t get too tired hanging from that cliff 💞💞

[notme123stuff]

Hi Uhm I’m new to tumblr so idk how this works but could you kindly do a fic with like Griffith x reader where reader is like female Guts and he’s obsessed and infatuated with her so much and he’s possessive and one night they sleep together and he convinces her to sleep with him? Because she was going to leave or something that night

ofc :) WARNINGS: possessiveness, reader and griffith just sleep not like sleep sleep if you get what i mean. yall should be fine it aint that hardcore per say your shoulders ace as you lift your sword to strike, though it isn't too big it is definitely taller than your already muscular body. but you are used to it. you got used to it for him, this event has repeated so much that you don't feel the deja vu anymore. you had killed so many other people for him. Though you do have more leisure time with your choices, after all, you're so good at your job. you were born on the battlefield and were made for it. The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed through the night, the battlefield littered with the remnants of your work. Blood splattered across your face, mixing with the sweat and grime from the relentless combat. Your sword felt like an extension of your arm, a tool you wielded with deadly precision, all for him. You sheathed your blade, surveying the bodies that lay at your feet. The rhythmic pounding of your heart, still calming down from the battle, filled your ears. It was just another night. Another slaughter for his cause. "You're still standing," Griffith's voice rang softly from behind, smooth and laced with an almost imperceptible admiration. He had that way about him—his words like a caress, but with an edge that could cut as deeply as your sword. You didn’t turn to face him. You didn't need to. You could feel his gaze burning into you, the same way it always did. He watched you, always watching. "I’m always standing," you replied gruffly, wiping the blood from your hands on your armor. Your muscles ached, your bones tired, but you were used to it. You’d grown accustomed to the endless cycle of violence, fighting for his ambitions, his dream. But lately, that dream felt like a cage tightening around your chest. For a long time, you didn’t question it. You followed him, fought for him, bled for him—because you had nowhere else to go. But tonight… tonight you felt different. There was a gnawing ache in your chest, one you couldn’t ignore any longer. You’d been thinking about leaving. Finally breaking free. You inhaled deeply, turning to face him. His pale hair glimmered in the moonlight, eyes were like icy pools that seemed to draw you in. Griffith was the embodiment of everything you once thought you wanted, but now… now you weren’t so sure. "I'm leaving after this," you said, your voice steady despite the tension between you. "I've done enough." pt 2 will be released

[arcandoria]

Prompt: Armor

for Veilguard30, featuring Alythess Cousland and Alistair Theirin

It doesn’t sit right.

Of course it wouldn’t – not like tailored armor would. The tasset is almost too big for her, and as such she has to compensate for the weight by buckling the straps tightly. The leather digs into her hips, and even though it’s simply uncomfortable now, it was going to chaff tremendously later, especially if she had to wear this for too long.

And by the way smoke filled her lungs alongside the stench of death and decay coming from the Wilds where the darkspawn waited for them, she was going to wear it for a long time.

She was a Grey Warden now, not Alythess Cousland.

There were no more tailored armor sets with perfectly fitting pieces that minded her size and frame. Her own set of armor - a gift on her 18th birthday - had been left behind amidst the burning stones of Highever.

She looks down to the weapons laid in front of her. They’d given her two new swords, but she’d handed one back. Sure, she was a Grey Warden now, not Alythess Cousland. But she will still carry her family’s sword from now on.

Alythess senses him before he’s close — and assumes he’s able to do the same. It’s weird, so incredibly weird, and she knows that the bile and darkness crawling inside her now is responsible for it, but she is just fresh from the joining, and sensing the people around her is still unsettling.

“Sorry to hurry you up, but the king is waiting and all that.” Alistair says from somewhere behind her. “How’s the armor?”

It’s too big. The leather straps dig into her hips and ribs. It’s going to chaff eventually.

“It’s fine.” She answers, her voice even as she works the last few straps and buckles.

The other Warden hums behind her, and she assumes he’s nodding.

“What about you? Are you— you know, alright?”

There’s death crawling inside her. There’s been death crawling inside her since Highever burned and she had to turn her back on it. It’s stuck in her throat, thick.

“I’m fine.” Her voice comes off the same.

“Right… We’ll be waiting for you then.”

He doesn’t sound concerned. The correct word might be disappointed. 

Alistair had been trying, at least, to make things sound and feel normal. He knew how much it wasn’t, but maybe because he was the most recent addition before her own, he felt bad about her state. Or maybe he was just that compassionate - she had to believe there were still people like this in the world. She couldn’t allow Howe to taint how she saw everyone from now on.

She breathed.

“Alistair?”

He’d already turned to leave, a few steps away from the armory corner she’d been using to don her armor.

“Yes?”

“It’s a bit too big and the straps can’t sit in the right place, and I can’t adjust them properly on my own. Can you help?” She half-twisted to face him over her shoulder.

His face lit up, and Alythess controlled the urge to roll her eyes, or smirk, or both.

“Oh, right! Of course. Shame we can’t make these universal sizes, huh?” He’d walked up to her then, hesitating awkwardly at first to touch the straps badly fastened against her ribs, before starting to help out with them. “Although I guess you might just be too small.”

She shot him an annoyed glance that was almost convincing, before quipping back. “I suppose they needed me at a disadvantage so you don’t get too embarrassed when we’re fighting.”

[toxicbrothel]

POV

f!reader x Donald Pierce (Logan 2017 villain)

I8+ Dark fic, captivity, noncon touching

A pit forms in your stomach when the nurse calls your name. It’s the same nurse you’ve observed stuffing rolls of cash into her purse, thinking no one could see her do it. Dirty money for sure, and you have a feeling you’re about to find out how she gets it. Someone is here to pick you up, supposedly to transfer you to another hospital to confirm your non-mutant status. The shady nurse takes you gently by the arm and walks you to a room with folded chairs and photography equipment scattered around. You've been through that whole process already, and being back in the room makes you uneasy. It doesn't help that the handsome man reclining in that chair doesn’t look like hospital transport at all. He’s wearing two big rings, smoking a cigarette, and has a tattoo on the front of his throat.  

“Mr. Pierce,” the nurse admonishes him. “Can you please put that out?”

He pinches out the lit end of the cigarette with his thumb and forefinger, flicks it to the floor, then raises his hands in defense. That's when you see his bionic arm. He uncrosses his legs, and the clap of his massive boot on the floor makes you jump. Now he’s manspreading with his large hands clasped in his lap.

The nurse thanks him and walks toward the exit.

“Pleasure doin’ business,” he mutters under his breath as he shamelessly checks you out. The deep, smooth voice has caught you off guard. A gold tooth sparkles from the front of his mouth. He claps his hands down on his knees and asks, “What do we got here?” as he stands up. He’s massive, towering over you. He’s wearing a black tactical vest under his long, dark leather jacket. He is sturdy, and your body reacts in a way you wish it wouldn't.

You stand in the middle of the room, helpless in a hospital gown. He clasps his hands behind his back and slowly paces in a half circle around you, his eyes eating you up like a piece of meat. “Not every day I pick up a woman,” he murmurs. “Normally, people know before adolescence if they’re a mutant. . .” 

“And I’m not,” you mumble futilely. You’re not even sure how you got on the list.

“Well, we’re gonna prove it,” he tells you. For a moment, you’re unsure if it’s a threat or reassurance, but your gut tells you it’s not a good thing. The air around him radiates violence. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go.” He extends his hand for you. When you not only don’t reach out, but also shake your head no, he loses patience and mutters, “Alright, c’mere. Damn.”

He lunges toward you, bends his knees, and uses his bionic arm to hoist you over his shoulder with much less effort than it would take with flesh and muscle. It gives you butterflies between the legs the way he does things with such ease.

“Ow,” you whimper with the crook of his metal elbow pinching your side as he carries you. 

“You’re alriiight,” he sing-songs, then reaches his non-bionic hand under your gown and stabilizes the weight with a hand on your ass, cool rings pressing into your flesh. He walks slowly toward a huge, armored vehicle. Its double back doors are already open. He nudges his thumb into your panties while he's at it, and you gasp at the feeling of him prodding your wet little hole. “Mmm,” he hums. 

“Don’t,” you whisper. He removes his thumb from your panties and hoists you off his shoulder and into the truck. There’s lab equipment, medical supplies, and a cage. Your eyes fixate on the enclosure, and your heart races. You try to back up out of the truck, but his bionic arm lets him wrangle you back with ease. You struggle as he forces you into the cage. 

Once he has you sitting still, his bionic hand around your jaw makes you look at him, only a few inches away. His gold tooth sparkles menacingly and his stare is ice cold as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head forward. He lowers his voice. “You need to be good,” he warns.

-----

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tysm for reading! and a big ty to @clawdee for the options. 💕

Most of my fics are on main, @toxicanonymity

[pearl-blue-musings]

Just a Friend?

This has been a long time coming ahahahah but yeah

Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x reader

Warnings: this is based off of an @anigomi kaeya audio that I’ll link, slight angst, we’re all bad at feelings

Word count: 1.6K

110% based off of this anigomi and give it a listen before you read for context!

Just a friend?

Is that all you were to him? Sure, you truly did value your friendship with the Cavalry captain and vice versa. But you thought you were special! He stayed with you the entire time you were recovering and was the one to bring you to the infirmary.

So why did hearing those words hurt so badly?

It has been three weeks since your accident and you’re just returning to active duty. The rest of your battalion was happy to see you. You gave them anxious waves as the injuries are still newly healed, not wanting to worry any of them further. Your goal right now is to report to Jean and then start your shift. Your armor clinks as you walk into the acting grand master’s office, coming to a stop to salute.

“Acting Grand Master Jean,” you say on instinct as you finish your salute. “I’ve come to return to active duty. My recovery has finished and the reports of what happened that day and all subsequent work are right here.” You hand Jean the file and return to attention. You watch her carefully look over everything and nod curtly. “Hmm,” she begins softly, “everything seems to be in order. Alright,” Jean says firmly, “report to Kaeya immediately. You two are scheduled to patrol around Starsnatch Cliff. There’s been a strange increase in Abyss Mage and hillichurl activity and the two of you are our best people.”

You gulp and fidget in your stance, feeling your anxiety and sensitivity to rejection rising to the surface. You clear your throat. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to be reassigned.” Your heart is racing as you think more about your commanding officer, the one who’s had your heart for longer than you’d like to admit. Jean’s eyes narrow in on you and calmly places your file down on her desk.

With a sigh, Jean looks toward you. “I’m sorry, there isn’t much I can do. You can ask for a change the next time the schedule goes up. You think you can bear it today?” She gives you a kind and understanding smile. Your shoulders sink as you politely walk out of her office. Your lips purse as you walk out of the knights’ headquarters. At the end of the steps, you see the back of the one person you’ve been dreading to see.

“Oh?” The baritone of his voice tilts upward as you approach him. You notice his body relaxes as he sees you. Kaeya gives you a knowing smirk and cocks out his hip. “You’re earlier than expected,” he coolly states, “shall we begin our patrol?” You nod sharply and start ahead. You miss him giving a small pout as he inhales deeply and follows behind. There’s so many words he wants to say. As much as he needs to focus on the increase of the presence of the abyss that’s been causing trouble for his fellow Mondstadters.

The long trek toward the cliffs is full of awkward silences and the sounds of the windblumes flowing in the wind. Too many times Kaeya attempts to start a conversation with you and you brush away his advances. “Well,” he chuckles an hour into your patrol, “I didn’t expect such an icy reception from you. And after all I did to help you recover. I’m hurt.”

You can hear the fake hurt in his voice and tighten your hand into a fist to resist caving into him. “Well we are coworkers,” you finally speak out. “It’s understandable you would see that I recovered well. You are my boss.”

“And that’s it? I’m just your boss?”

Your eyes tighten shut and you control your breathing. Who is he to imply what he’s implying? Your pace of walking speeds up as your head and heart are having a battle you thought you wouldn’t be having currently. He can’t know about the ways your heart beats out of time every time his cool blue irises bore into yours. He’s not allowed to know how many nights you’ve dreamt of sleeping and waking in his arms. No, the two of you are just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

His soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “You know,” he slowly begins, “I really missed you these last few weeks. How come you wouldn’t let me see you? After I nursed you back to life and I get the cold shoulder from you?” Kaeya skips ahead of you to stop you in your tracks, his eyes more serious than before. “Why are you avoiding me? There’s no use in denying it.”

You lose your balance briefly as he quickly stops you from walking further. The sun is setting over the ocean waters, casting a beautiful glow on the cliffs as night begins to roll in. The sparkle in his eye is more menacing and serious than before. His hands rest on your shoulders as he searches for the answer in your visage. Your eyes dodge his own as you attempt to find any stains on your uniform. “I,” you stutter out, “I’m not avoiding you. I needed to recover.”

Kaeya’s eyes roll as he grips you tighter. “That’s not the answer, snowflake. I know you and you know me.” He suddenly gets closer to you and his breath is brushing against face. “I was the one on your bedside when you woke up, and now I get nothing? I gave up,” he chuckles dryly, “nights at the tavern to be with you, which by the way you still owe me for. You’re someone I adore and have a connection with. Why are you pushing me away?” His hand had softly began to caress and cup your face. You want to give in to his touch, something you’ve craved for so long. Despite his semi gloved hand and frigid vision, his hand is warm against your skin. You naturally relax against him before your flight or fight kicks in.

You abruptly push him away and turn your body away from him. “You can’t do that! Friends don’t,” you huff, “friends don’t do that. You, you can’t touch me like that a-and expect me to just say “what a great friend you are Kaeya!” I can’t do that. So don’t, d-dont touch me.”

Shock comes to his face as his hand falters against your skin. His bottom lip trembles slightly as his eye takes in your visage once more. Your shoulders are tight, possibly to the point of shaking and your eyes are downcast and to the side. You can’t look at him, not with the way your heart beats erratically in your chest. You hate that his touch sends shivers down your spine and has the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around. You hate that despite how special he treated you, he dare only call you a friend? What were those lingering looks, soft gazes from across the bar, his hand holding yours when you needed support? The audacity of him to kiss your cheek as a way of saying hello and goodbye when he took care of you! What was it? Is it just platonic? Perhaps you were deluding yourself.

The captain studies your face and softens his expression. He takes a deep breath and carefully takes your hand in his. Kaeya takes note of how you flinch and attempts to hide his own smirk. “What if I want to keep touching you?”

“Kaeya..” you exacerbate.

“No listen,” his hold tightens. “You are a friend, a great friend, the best friend I’ve ever known. And when you got hurt under my watch… I had convinced myself it was because someone knew how special you are to me. The farther away you are from me, the least likely you are to get hurt. But I know how much of a strong soldier you are, one of the strongest in my opinion…” He trails off as he relaxes his grip on you. Kaeya hangs his head low, something you rarely see from the confident and charismatic man. Almost weakly he whispers, “why can’t I tell you how I feel? Well I am a man of action after all.”

You lift your eyebrows in confusion as his hands cup your face. You’re taken aback as you feel his lips over yours, your stomach moving like a yo-yo. Your hands fall easily onto his chest, continuing to kiss the man you’ve harbored feelings for. When you both pull away, a shy giggle escapes your lips as your fingers lightly graze the warm and soft skin. His smile is infectious as he extends a hand out for you to take. You gladly take it and proceed to walk along toward the cliff. You clear your throat as you feel yourself wanting to word vomit. “So, do you really have feelings for me? Or was that you trying to get your way? Because I know you Kaeya and-“

You’re cut off by another surprise kiss and come to a halt. Any words you had left to say die in your throat as Kaeya pecks your lips again and again. “You wound me, snowflake. Yes, I love you okay? Now let’s continue our patrol, okay?”

You nod lightly and walk alongside him. You can’t help but muse over how his hand feels in yours. The way your heart is excited yet calm at the same time leaves you giddy and smiling like the teenager you were when you first fell for the captain. You’re pretty sure when this shift is over you’ll have a lot of explaining to do to Jean and the other members of your troop.