#Rapidly searching for my pulse

[creepyscritches]

God in heaven it's been 4 years since I posted any YYH art

[starrydragoness]

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI! More under the cut

Content: soft sex, creampie, cockwarming, pretty vanilla tbh, live laugh love dragon man, wrote this sleep deprived and didn't proof read, so if there are any grammar errors I'll fix them later, trust.

“Come up here-” 

Jiyan panted, breathy words falling from his lips with effort as he fought down soft sounds of pleasure as he grinded his hips into yours. His hand cups around your nape and brings you into his lips, reddened and bruised as they were - he needed more, more of you, more of your taste and touch and love. The unending well of need is insatiable, always open to welcome you in and swallow you whole, cradling you against his chest.

A thin sheen of sweat sits on top of his skin, his chest rising rapidly with each short breath, and you slowly squirm, pushing his shoulders down so he is now laying on his back and you throw one leg over his hip, effectively straddling him. From here, you have quite the sight of the General of the Midnight Rangers, lying beneath you, and so pliant to your affections, but most importantly - he is your dear husband, one you missed too much and all of that love is coming to boil over at this very moment. 

You lean down, kissing across his collarbone, climbing your way up to his neck and you can feel him suck in a breath as you graze your teeth across his pulse point. Your teeth leave faint little red marks across his pale skin, lips sucking here and there until purple blooms in soft petals. His hands are pawing at your sides, feeling your warm flesh in his palms before he claws down at your hips, pushing you  down against his length that is stuck between your two naked bodies, your naked cunt grinding against it. It feels like it has been ages since you began teasing and feeling one another up, taking off clothing, piece by piece until both of you were desperate for more and more.

“Love- hah.. “ Jiyan curls his fingers into your hips, his head thrown back onto the messy bed with covers strewn about.  “Let me feel you- no more teasing” he whispers into your ear and you couldn’t agree more. Sitting upright you gaze into those eyes of molten gold, looking up at you as if you were the work of finest marble and divinity. Embodiment of beauty and peace.

Jiyan’s lips parted slightly, eyes glued to yours until your line of sight led him down to your wet hole. He swallows the lump in his throat as you take his shaft in your hand, pushing yourself up to your knees before guiding his tip to your hole, all while his hands anxiously massage up and down the  sides of your thighs, anticipating eating him up alive. And once you finally sink down his eyes roll back into his head, eyes fluttering shut as he feels your warm walls squeezing him and welcoming him in. A guttural moan rumbles through his throat and he can’t help but buck into you, and the next thrust has your hands sprawled ontop of his chest, searching for stability as he began to fuck himself into you.

He was nothing if not careful, attentive, he still wanted to appreciate you and show you how much he has missed you too, yet as both of you began to lose yourselves in carnal desires, he found himself getting rougher. 

Each thrust had your tits bouncing, right in his face. Your pretty and glazed eyes looking down at him with all adoration one could hold, and your flushed  face and reddened lips threw him in a daze. He was hypnotized. Enarmored.

“My love- you feel so good, you have n-no idea how much I missed you” he groaned  after pushing himself into you to the hilt, simultaneously pulling you down and for a moment he went still, savoring the fluttering of your walls around him. You moaned his name, lust clouding not only your vision but your thoughts as well. So drunk on him.

One of his hands travels up your sides leaving warmth in its wake, trailing all the way up to your shoulder and then down to cup one of your hands in his, pulling it up, towards his lips until he could kiss your palm. He ruts into you all the while, another lingering kiss following the first one before his teeth nip at the inside of your wrist. 

You can feel your insides burning, slick oozing out of your hole and coating his shaft with each thrust. You can feel him so deep within that it drives you mad, making you cry out for him. And he hears you loud and clear, half lidded eyes drinking you in like the finest liquor. 

The hand that held yours flew down to where your bodies joined together, finding your clit and rubbing it in the rhythm of your thrusts, sending electric shocks up your core, all through your spine and up to your shoulders and down to your toes. Whining you squirm on top of him, both of you losing your rhythm as the tension in your bellies threatens to burst.

“Mmm- I’m so close, Jiyan” you mewled, and goodness, your voice alone was enough to make him chase that high with even more fervor. 

“I know, love, I know- come with me..hah.. look at me. Oh, how beautiful you are-” he muses out loud, a flicker of a smile lighting up his lustful eyes as pounds into you from below, pushing moan after moan out of you, making you sing for him.

Your orgasm blinds you, white hot pleasure coursing through your veins as your muscles seized and your walls spasmed as Jiyan filled your greedy hole, spurting deep within you until he had nothing more to give. His face became more red before he released a throaty groan, his own muscles finally slacking from the intense orgasm, just in time to wrap his arms around you after you collapsed onto his chest. His cock remained buried within you even as it grew soft, comforted by the heat and slick. 

The two of you panted, working slowly but desperately to catch your breath. His calloused hands traced up and your naked back,  holding you close to him. 

“I love you.. mm.. I love you so much” you coo at him, picking your head up only to place several kisses along his jaw before kissing his sweet lips. A kiss he gladly returns despite the faint burning in his lungs. “I love you too, dearest” he breathed back,  watching you settle your head against his chest, hearing the quick drumming of his heart. 

Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[liiixsturniolos]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ angel ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings!: smut, p in v, sex in a changing room..

~ chris, let's you have his card, and spend what you want at the mall, in victorias Secret, he likes the look of certain red underwear and can't keep his hands off of you in the changing room.

You and your boyfriend chris are walking hand in hand across the mall, and you hold onto his credit card contentedly. It was his 'treat' today, and he'd told you to spend whatever you like.

The last stop of the list was victorias secret. As you skip in to the blindingly pink store, Chris trudges behind you tiredly.

You shuffle through a rack of bras, looking for a new pink one, and some matching lace underwear.

Chris' eyes shift over to a red lacey thong, "You should get this." He smirks,

"Hm. Yeah, it's cute." You say throwing it into your basket.

His eyes widen, "You should try it on." He suggests.

You look up at him, "Kay." You respond smugly, grasping his arm and leading him over to the changing room, pushing him in and closing the door on you two.

You take off your underwear, putting on the red ones Chris wanted, twirling around for him.

"So, what'cha think of em?" You ask, already knowing the answer by his facial expression. His jaw dropped open as his eyes roamed up and down your body.

"Uh-yeah. Definitely, you should get 'em." He mumbles, preoccupied gawking at you.

Noticing the way he's glaring at you, taking in every inch of your body with his eyes, you stroke his face, leaning in and kissing him passionately.

His hands immediately start to cling to you, rapidly searching your body and grappling onto your hips firmly.

"So pretty angel, but lemme' take 'em off now?" He asks. Snapping his fingers along the band of the underwear.

"Mmm.. yeah." You whine, as he rips them off.

"So wet for me, huh?" He groans, unbuttoning his jeans.

He drags his finger gently over your clit, pushing it inside your walls,your eyebrows furrowing in your face, as you moan quietly.

He strokes his cock a few times and rubbing his pre-cum all over his head, with no hesitation, he slides his cock into you with ease, filling you up.

You and him both let out a simultaneous moan, trying to stay quiet, incase anyone could hear.

He instantly starts ramming you, desperate and searching for release, he couldn't take the teasing anymore.

He grunts, pushing you up against the changing room wall.

You let out a strangled moan. "Yeah? Come on my cock angel," he groans.

"Chris! m' gonna...f-finish! you stutter out.

He shoves a hand over your mouth. "Quiet baby." He whispers in your ear, still pumping into you.

"Fuck!" You yelp. As continues to ruthlessly fuck you. You were coming closer to finishing.

His words push you over the edge. You twitch engulfed by him, allowing a flow of whines and whimpers to escape your lips as he helps you ride out your high,

I feel his hands grip your hips in desperation, as and his warm cum paints your insides His movements begin to slow, and you let out satisfied sigh.

Feeling him pull his limp cock out of your pulsing pussy.

interacting is insanely appreciated, likes, comments, re-blogs I love! thanks for reading darlingsss ♡

taglist; @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3 @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy

[suhsweet]

for halloween ⟡ kmg

wc: 3097 | pair: bf!mingyu x afab!reader | genre: smut, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: horror movie mentions, brief mention of gore (in relation to horror movie), living room sex, netflix & chill, size kink, fingering, reader has medium to long hair

summary: “I want to see if we can fuck each others’ brains out, so good to the point that we forget that there’s a scary movie playing right in front of us.”

authors note: sorry, i’ve been away for forever. with halloween coming up, i rushed this to get it out in time. it's not the best, but please enjoy <3

“Kim Mingyu, we are not spending our Saturday night watching a horror movie out of all things.”

“Sure we are, for Halloween.”

You smack a palm against your forehead, watching your stupid boyfriend flick through stupid Netflix on the stupid TV to search for a stupid horror movie. The options flick past, each movie poster looking more creepy and gruesome than the last.

“You forgot the biggest issue here. We both hate horror movies. We don’t like horror.”

“I know, but I think I might come to love it after tonight,” Mingyu smirks to himself and he waves you over towards him.

“Why do you think that?” Your eyes narrow, watching your soon-to-be-dumped boyfriend choose a film that you didn’t bother to learn the name of. As the screen goes black, the movie poster remains in your mind. All you remember are the blood splatters on the main character’s face, and the shadowy figure behind them.

The image brings about a chill down your spine, causing you to spin around and start heading for your shared bedroom. “Nope. Actually, don’t worry. Enjoy your movie! I’m just gonna hide here for the next hour and forty five minutes...”

“Baby no!” Mingyu laughs and you hear him follow you.

The heavy slap of his house slippers rapidly follow you as you speed away, a squeal threatening to escape your throat. Nevertheless, you're effortlessly scooped up into his arms bridal style.

Maybe if you close your eyes and go limp like a dead fish he’ll change his mind… You give up on fighting your boyfriend's strong hold, allowing your head to flop backward and your arms to your sides.

Entering the living room once more, Mingyu's laughter echoes throughout the apartment. Still holding you in his arms, he falls onto the plush sofa causing the both of you to let out a simultaneous ‘oomph’.

He keeps you sideways on his lap, one arm braced around your waist. He fusses over you, brushing your hair out of your face as he acts oblivious to your squirming.

You're trying your best to wriggle your way out of this cage of yummy tanned skin and muscle before he presses play on the movie. “Let me goooooo!”

“No!” Mingyu grunts, and if you thought his hold was tight enough, he pulls you in even tighter.

After three minutes of Mingyu chuckling at your poor attempts of escape, you eventually give up. It's times like these that you remember that he goes to the gym everyday, and never fails to meet his target protein intake. With him sitting down, you also forget he looms over you like a skyscraper. Fighting him is impossible.

You pout, crossing your arms with a soft, "Hmmph."

Mingyu gives a satisfied whoop as he settles you in his arms. Your attempts of appearing annoyed with him immediately dissolves as the ominous music grows louder.

Suddenly, the lamp beside your sofa switches off. Apart from the TV itself, it was the main source of light in the otherwise dark room. Your head whips over to see Mingyu in the process of retracting his hand from the switch, a devilish grin on his face.

“Where is my boyfriend!?” You practically wail. “My Mingyu wouldn’t even look at the horror section on Netflix!”

Mingyu just chuckles to himself. You bury your face in his chest, and wrap your arms around his neck. The beginnings of the jump-scares and screaming starts, and you feel the thrum of your pulse quicken.

Mingyu coos at you and begins to rub his hand across your back rhythmically. His other hand cradles your head to him. His lips softly press kisses into your hair, slowly trailing down to your temple, cheek, jaw, and then your neck. The kisses gradually go from sweet and brief, to slow and burning. You can hear his lips coming into contact with your skin, and the soft suction of his mouth.

“Mingyu…” You clench the fabric of his hoodie in your fist.

“I had a thought,” he says, completely ignoring you.

“Something you should stop doing after this,” you grumble. Being scared and horny is a weird and unfamiliar sensation.

Mingyu chuckles softly. The light touch of the back of his pointer finger tickles your cheek. You notice the way his eyes become half-lidded, hypnotized. “I want to see if we can fuck each others’ brains out, so good to the point that we forget that there’s a scary movie playing right in front of us..”

A shocked laugh bubbles up inside of you. It takes you a second to process the unexpected turn of events. “For Halloween?”

“Yup,” the side of his mouth quirks up slightly as your eyes meets his.

“You better make me scream louder than her,” you point your finger to the TV screen where all sorts of terror is occurring to the main character.

Mingyu kisses up and down your jaw once more, his fingers gripping your sides as if wondering whether to rip off your clothes or take them off intact. “I’ll try my best, baby.”

Suddenly upright and straddling Mingyu’s lap, your fingers snake through your lover’s hair. Through your lashes, you delight in the way he completely succumbs himself to your touch. Like he's happy to take anything that you'll give him, his head is tilted backwards and his eyes are shut.

Mingyu is chasing your lips when you pull back from the kiss, refusing to have your faces more than an inch away from the other. You’re about to tease his dopey expression when the back of your head is held in place by his hand, and his lips are back on yours. Your teeth clash briefly before you find your rhythm, his tongue teasing your own. And all while this is happening, he’s humping up into you.

“How am I already pussy drunk and I haven’t even taken your clothes off?” Mingyu whispers into your ear, nipping the lobe before kissing your neck. He’s licking stripes, making marks, and worshipping the skin where your jaw and neck meet. The sensation has your toes curling and your eyes screwing shut.

“Min…gyu,” you sigh out. Your hands steady themselves on his firm shoulders and you begin to grind against his heavy bulge. He watches in amazement, lazily palming your breast and breathing heavily.

You’ve always loved the sounds that Mingyu makes when you fuck. His raspy voice was already attractive, but in bed? When it’s heavy with lust and need for only you? It’s fucking heavenly.

“So, so pretty,” Mingyu sighs, eyes rolling when your hips move a certain way. You pause to reach under the waistband of his black sweats, easily finding his arousal.

His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of your bottom lip. You immediately catch it in your mouth and start sucking it like you would a lollypop. Your tongue in particular starts drawing patterns on the pad of this thumb. Mingyu’s gaze seems to grow darker as he watches you.

Immediately he retracts his hand, and starts stripping you of your shirt. You help take off the last of it off your body while Mingyu eagerly latches his mouth onto your chest, a hand greedily grabbing and squeezing the one that doesn’t have the attentions of his tongue.

You’re the one holding his head close this time. You watch Mingyu with his mouth on your tits, licking and sucking as if you’re his life source. He looks completely drunk on you, focused on worshipping your body. Your sounds encourage him to reach down into your pants, nudging away your panties to find your slick folds.

His fingers outline the folds of your pussy, then focus on your clit. You hum with approval as he starts drawing circles on the little nub. You feel him go back to tasting your tits, switching between kissing your neck and whispering dirty things into your ear.

“Your fingers… Fuck,” you pant. “I’m gonna-”

“I know baby,” Mingyu takes in your expressions with a satisfied smirk. His fingers speed up, pressing firmly. He pulls your head down to kiss you, wanting to feel you moan against his lips as you cum.

And you do; with your lips pressed to Mingyu’s, holding onto his shoulders as you buck against his fingers. His gaze burns into you, and it's so intense that if you weren’t in the middle of an orgasm, you would’ve blushed furiously.

As you come down from your high, Mingyu's there to hold you steady. You lazily kiss him, telling him thanks with your tongue and soft moans. His fingers dive into your hair, making your pretty tresses snake around his fingers. He plays with the ends of the strands just as you pull away and start to get on your knees.

"What're you doing?" He whines, hands gripping your arms firmly.

You frown. "Returning the favor."

"No, no, no," he rushes out. You're pulled back up on your feet when Mingyu unceremoniously yanks your pants down and pulls you back onto his lap. "I need you now."

You giggle at his desperation, and allow him to manhandle you. He strips himself of his shirt while you line his cock up to your pussy. You’re so close to having him stretch you out that your toes curl from anticipation.

However, after many lessons learnt you remembered to prep yourself at the last second. Effortlessly, you lean down to spit onto Mingyu’s cock, rubbing it all over the tip until it glistens.

Mingyu groans. “It’s so hot when you do that.”

You wink at him. His grip on your waist keep you steady as you slowly lower yourself. On instinct your eyes flicker to his to watch the minor changes in his expression as he feels your body take him. The softening of his eyes, the soft flare of his noise and the plush of his lips caught between his teeth.

And although the two of you have had sex enough times to know the other’s body like their own, the feeling of you bottoming out on his cock never gets old. Feeling so full, and so stretched out, nothing could feel as good as Mingyu’s heavy cock.

His eyes seem to dart across every plane on your face, wanting to take in your expressions too. You tenderly kiss him on the mouth and slowly start to move.

“Fuck…” Mingyu breathes out, his eyes fluttering closed.

As you start to work your body on his dick, Mingyu’s arms circle around your body. His trunk-like arms keep you close to him as he presses his head into your shoulder, breathing heavily and taking in your scent.

It’s so intimate, and perfect until you hear the movie and remember that it's still playing. Your attention unintentionally flickers over to the TV just in time to witness a jump scare. The sudden close up of the monster's morbid features, combined with the loud music has you squeezing Mingyu tighter, and a minor squeak leaves you as you jump in fright.

Mingyu’s perks up, alert. You briefly witness the protective side of him come out. His misplaced concern has you feeling sorry, and a small laugh escapes you.

His expression softens when he looks back at you and sees you smiling. He doesn't say anything, but his face asks you about what happened.

"I saw a jump scare," you admit, noticing your movements have slowed.

Mingyu shakes his head in mock disappointment. "Well that won't do. My theory would be proven wrong..." His warm, large hands trail upwards from your hips to your sides. His warm palms smooth over your upper back, creeping up past your shoulder blades before stopping at the curve of each of your shoulders.

You gaze up at him just as he pulls your body down onto him by your shoulders. The sudden intrusion doesn't hurt, but it makes you gasp. Suddenly feeling full brings an unfamiliar pleasure, and judging by your lover's face, he definitely loves it.

Mingyu's heavy lidded gaze never strays from your face, but he breaths heavily as he fucks up into you. His grip never weakens, even while your chanting his name, even while your legs squeeze together in an effort to halt his movements as you come. He manages to continue to fuck you regardless.

That has you forgetting about the movie in an instant.

"Holy... Fuck," you groan in between heavy breaths.

"What do you think of the movie so far?" Mingyu teases as he lifts you off of him and onto the sofa, on your back. As he covers your body with his own, you feel him tease your breasts. Each nipple is pinched, and the other even gets a little nip.

"Mmm," you gather your hair out from under you in an effort to get comfortable. You reach between your legs to reach for his cock. "What movie?"

Mingyu laughs as he slowly kisses up your chest and onto your lips. Your open mouthed kisses are interrupted by the sensation of him filling you up, and the two of you groan into each other's mouths.

"Fuck, angel," Mingyu's rasping into your mouth. He lays his right forearm down next to your head, while his other arm is next to your waist holding himself up. They both work to keep his weight from crushing you, but allows him to still feel every inch of your skin touching his own. "You don't understand how much I fucking need you."

Feeling caged in like this has you feeling so safe that you start to go delirious. Everywhere you look is Mingyu. If you look up, you'll find him watching you with your name escaping his lips like it was a prayer. If you look between your legs, you can see the silhouette of his heavy cock thrusting into you, making you feel so full. If you look to either side of you, you'd see his muscles working to keep himself up.

"So good," you gasp. He seems to agree from the way that his head dips down to kiss you. Your bottom lip gets stuck in-between his teeth as he sucks at it hungrily.

Unlike you, Mingyu isn’t caged in. He has the freedom to look anywhere but down, to avoid looking at your pretty face and increase the chances of him coming early. Yet, like magnets, his eyes can’t stray far from your pretty lips or flushed cheeks. The little sweat beads that decorate your face are his doing, just like the fucking delectable view of your breasts bouncing from his thrusts.

The possessive side of him revels in the fact that only he can see you like this. He likes that it’s because of him that you’re feeling this pleasure.

Your arms loop around his neck, tugging his head back down. Your lips meet in another round of hungry kisses. The two of you are as close of you can get, sharing the same breath, with your foreheads pressed together. Your skin is slick with sweat– his or yours, you're not sure. Mingyu looks close, and to catch up, you bring your fingers to your clit.

"Good girl," he praises. "Make sure you come with me. Come on this cock, baby."

You can't even give him a proper reply. All you can do is nod as you watch him work you both to the edge.

Without warning, you feel yourself come first and your words come out slurred. "'Gyu, 'm cummin'."

Your words act as the catalyst and Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut. He buries his head into your neck, allowing only you to hear his deep moans.

The last of your orgasms drain from the two of you, and you laugh softly up at your lover. He grins down at you, leaning in to kiss you when the final jump-scare from the movie makes itself known.

A loud screech from the movie’s demon, combined with the sharp music has you both jumping in fright. Mingyu collapse onto you, hugging your body and burying his face into your neck. You instinctively stretch your arms around his shoulders as if that would protect him from any bad guys, and you shut your eyes from seeing any more of the film.

The music changes after a few seconds, making you peek an eye open. The credits are creeping up the screen, and you let out a loud sigh as you go limp.

Mingyu’s head perks up to look at you, and then the TV. “Hey! We did it.”

You laugh, remembering the stupid theory your boyfriend came up with. Your hand rises in a hi-five to which Mingyu slaps enthusiastically.

Mingyu takes in your dopey, fucked-out expression with a toothy grin of his own. You feel him press a smattering of kisses all over your face, and then the pressure of his body rolling away from you to retrieve the TV remote. Even if it's just to turn the TV off, you whine in protest at the idea of having to separate from him so soon. You rise and attach yourself to his back like a koala would a tree.

Mingyu stands, fixing his arms into the crooks of your knees to piggyback you. He walks to your bedroom with a pep in his step. He mumbles to himself, “I won’t be able to sleep all night after that movie.”

His innocuous tone makes you laugh. “Because you were definitely focused on the movie and nothing else.”

“Yeah, yeah. It had demons and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, I remember seeing that too,” you laugh. "Did you see the thing that happened to that person at that place?"

"Oh yeah, totally," Mingyu scoffs. "I know exactly what you're talking about. Wasn't scared of that at all."

He deposits you at the foot of your bed and starts to crawl up on top of you again, his body acting as a cage once more.

The predatorial gleam in his eyes elicits a shiver from you.

“You know, I normally find it hard to fall asleep after watching scary movies too,” you say as Mingyu leans down to kiss your jaw.

Mingyu hums in interest. “Glad to hear it isn’t just me. But I know a couple things we could do to help us sleep.”

You burst out laughing at the cheesiness of it all. Mingyu looks up at you, giving you another of his precious toothy grins. You smile, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging gently. “Alright, alright, let’s get into round two already.”

[its-avalon-08]

im not giving up on you (dr3)

after the singapore gp, i was sobbing. danny, our sunshine danny might be leaving us and that broke my heart so entirely. here is to out honey badger, you made me love this sport, seeing your smile was the only light on some dark days. you made it, you lived your formula one dream and you will always be able to say that. for always making us laugh and find joy in the butterflies, we thank you daniel <3

✦ pairing - daniel ricciardo x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, losing his seat, tears, fluffy ending

The Singapore night was thick with humidity, the scent of burning rubber still clinging to the air long after the race had ended. Daniel Ricciardo walked through the now-empty paddock, the silence overwhelming. The once-vibrant energy that pulsed through the grounds was now replaced with nothing but the dull hum of the lights, casting long shadows that made the place feel eerily lonely.

Daniel had always been good at putting on a strong face. Smiling, joking, pretending everything was fine. He had perfected it over the years. But tonight, the facade had cracks — deep, painful cracks that threatened to break him entirely.

After the Singapore GP, the world knew. The news had broken: Daniel was losing his seat at V-CARB. Another seat lost. Another chapter closing. And it felt as though he had lost everything again. He couldn’t bear to face his team, his friends. Not even Max. So he stayed in the paddock long after everyone had left, sitting alone on a stack of tires, his head in his hands.

He didn’t hear the footsteps at first.

"Daniel?"

The voice was soft, familiar, and full of concern. He looked up, blinking through the blur of tears that stung his eyes. There she was — Y/N Verstappen. Max’s little sister.

She had always been around, always there, a comforting presence from the days when he and Max were teammates. She had been his friend, but it was so much more than that. They had danced around their feelings for years, never daring to speak the truth, both afraid of what it might mean.

Daniel quickly wiped his eyes, trying to pull himself together. "Hey," he said, his voice strained, cracking under the weight of his emotions. "What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same," Y/N replied softly, stepping closer. "It’s late."

"I couldn’t leave," he admitted, his eyes staring at the ground, unable to meet hers. "It’s just… a lot."

Y/N stood in front of him, her eyes searching his face. She could see right through him. "You don’t have to pretend with me, Daniel."

"I’m not pretending," he lied, letting out a shaky laugh. "I’m fine. It’s just another bump in the road, right? I’ll bounce back. I always do."

But even as he spoke, his voice trembled, and Y/N could hear the pain beneath his words. She sat down beside him on the tires, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him in the humid night air, but still hesitant to touch him.

"It’s okay to not be fine," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Daniel’s jaw tightened as he looked away, blinking rapidly. He didn’t want her to see him like this. He had always been the strong one, the happy-go-lucky guy who could handle anything. But tonight, the weight of everything was crushing him.

"I feel like I’m losing everything," he finally admitted, his voice breaking. "Like no matter what I do, no matter how hard I fight, it’s never enough. I’m never enough."

Y/N’s heart ached at the sight of him like this — so vulnerable, so raw. She reached out hesitantly, her hand gently resting on his arm. "Daniel… you’re more than enough. You’ve always been more than enough."

He shook his head, biting down on his lip as tears welled up in his eyes again. "I don’t know how to keep going. Everyone keeps telling me to just keep my head up, keep smiling. But I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so tired."

Her hand tightened around his arm, the warmth of her touch grounding him in that moment. "You don’t have to do this alone."

Daniel’s shoulders shook as he exhaled a deep, shaky breath. He didn’t have the strength to pretend anymore. The tears he had been holding back for so long finally fell, spilling down his cheeks as he covered his face with his hands, his body trembling with silent sobs.

Y/N felt her own tears start to fall as she watched him break down, the sight of him so utterly heartbroken making her chest ache. She couldn’t hold back any longer. Without thinking, she pulled him into her arms, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

"I’ve got you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’ve always got you."

Daniel buried his face in her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist as he clung to her, the dam of emotions finally breaking. He sobbed into her neck, all the pain, frustration, and helplessness pouring out of him. And Y/N held him, stroking his hair, whispering soothing words in his ear.

"I don’t know what to do, Y/N," Daniel choked out between sobs. "I feel like I’ve failed. Again."

"You haven’t failed," she insisted, pulling back just enough to look at him, her hands cupping his tear-streaked face. "You’ve given everything, Daniel. You’ve fought so hard. You’re one of the best drivers out there, and no seat can take that away from you. Not now, not ever."

Daniel let out a long sigh, pulling away slightly from Y/N’s embrace, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. His voice was quieter now, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before, like he was finally allowing himself to speak the truth that had been buried deep inside for years.

"You know," he began, staring out at the empty paddock, "when I left Red Bull, I thought I was making the best decision of my life. I really did. I thought… this was it, you know? My time. I didn’t want to be second to Max — your brother’s an incredible driver, you know that. But I couldn’t sit there anymore, watching everyone around me believe I’d always be the second-best. I wanted to be number one. I wanted my own team to back me, to believe in me. And at the time, Renault seemed like that opportunity, like I could prove I could lead a team, that I could fight for championships."

He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "God, I was so naïve. I thought leaving Red Bull would be the start of my rise, not the beginning of my fall. Renault wasn’t easy, but I stuck it out. Then McLaren came calling, and I thought that was my shot. It was McLaren, you know? One of the biggest names in Formula 1. I thought I was stepping into greatness."

He paused, his voice trembling. "And then everything fell apart. From the start, it felt wrong. Like I didn’t belong there. I tried so damn hard, Y/N. I worked my ass off, but nothing clicked. No matter what I did, how much time I put in, it never worked. Every race, every session, I felt like I was slipping further away from the driver I used to be. And it wasn’t just the car — it was everything. The pressure, the doubts, the whispers that I’d lost it, that I wasn’t the driver I once was."

He swallowed hard, the pain of those years written across his face. "They treated me like I was broken. Like I was damaged goods. And I started to believe it. Every time I got into that car, I felt like a shadow of myself. They replaced me without a second thought, like I was disposable. And I tried to be strong, you know? I tried to tell myself that it didn’t matter, that I’d bounce back. But deep down, it hurt. It hurt more than anything."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart aching for him, but she stayed silent, letting him speak.

"And then this year," he continued, his voice cracking. "I thought coming back to V-CARB was going to be my redemption. That this was finally going to be the moment where I’d prove to everyone that I still had it. But now… now I’m losing my seat again. And it just feels like the world’s telling me I’m not wanted. That no one believes in me anymore. Every time I think I’m getting back on my feet, I just get knocked down again. It’s like no matter what I do, no one sees me. Not as I am, not for what I can be. They just see what they think I’ve become — a has-been."

Daniel’s voice grew quieter, almost a whisper. "I feel… I feel like I’m unwanted, Y/N. Like I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I used to love this sport so much. It was everything to me. But now it feels like it’s slipping away, like I’m being pushed out, and I don’t know what to do."

He ran his hands over his face, the weight of his journey pressing down on him like a heavy burden. "I’ve given everything to this sport. Years of my life, my heart, my soul. I sacrificed everything to chase this dream. And now… I’m just scared, Y/N. I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be enough. I’ll never get back to where I once was."

There was a long pause, the silence between them thick with emotion. Daniel’s chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing, but his eyes were red, his cheeks stained with tears.

"I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like I’m failing. Like I’ve lost everything that mattered. And it’s killing me, Y/N. I don’t know if I can keep pretending like I’m okay, when inside, I’m falling apart."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him close. "Daniel, you’ve never been a failure. Not to me. You’re the strongest person I know, and no matter what happens, no seat, no team, no damn race can take away who you are. You’ve always been enough."

And this time, Daniel didn’t pull away. He sank into her embrace, the tears falling once again, but this time, it felt different. He wasn’t alone.

His eyes searched hers, filled with so much pain, so much doubt. "What if this is it? What if this is the end for me?"

"It’s not the end," Y/N said firmly, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his cheeks. "And even if it were, you’d still be Daniel Ricciardo — the man I…"

She stopped, the words hanging in the air between them, unspoken for years.

Daniel’s breath hitched as he realized what she was about to say. "Y/N…"

She looked away, her own tears threatening to spill over. "I’ve loved you for so long, Daniel. And I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you’re hurting, and I hate that I never told you sooner because maybe… maybe you wouldn’t have to go through this alone."

Daniel was silent for a moment, his mind racing as her words sank in. He had always known. Deep down, he had always known. But hearing it, finally hearing it… it shattered something inside him.

"I’ve loved you too," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since… since forever, Y/N. But I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I couldn’t lose you."

She looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of the tears in his eyes. "You could never lose me."

Daniel leaned his forehead against hers, his breath shaky as they both cried, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally crashing down on them.

"I need you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"I’m here," she replied, her arms wrapping around him again, holding him as if she would never let go.

They stayed like that for a long time, clinging to each other, their tears mingling in the humid night air. And when the exhaustion finally overtook them, Daniel shifted, pulling Y/N down with him onto the bench beside the tires. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, their bodies fitting together perfectly as they lay there in the silence of the paddock.

Y/N rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as they both closed their eyes, the weight of the world fading away for a little while.

And in the stillness of the night, they finally found peace in each other’s arms, their unspoken love wrapped around them like a blanket, protecting them from the world outside.

the next day

The next morning, the sun filtered through the windows of the small café tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the paddock. Daniel felt lighter today. His heart still ached, the reality of his situation hadn't magically disappeared overnight, but there was something different. A quiet peace had settled inside him. Maybe it was because, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t carrying his burdens alone.

He glanced at Y/N across the table. She was scrolling through her phone, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers against the table. His chest warmed at the sight of her. Y/N was always there, had always been there, but now it was different. Last night changed everything.

They hadn’t said much that morning, but they didn’t need to. She had been a constant presence at his side, making him feel like, no matter what, he’d be okay.

“So,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “You ready for this?”

Daniel chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Depends. Is Max going to kill me or just be incredibly smug?"

Y/N laughed, and Daniel could swear it was his favorite sound in the world. “He’ll be a bit of both, probably. But definitely more smug. He’s been calling this for years.”

As if on cue, Max Verstappen walked into the café, spotting them immediately. He made a beeline for their table, his signature serious expression betraying just the faintest hint of amusement. He slid into the seat across from them, a wry smile on his face.

"Morning," Max said, folding his arms across his chest, eyes flicking between the two of them. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here."

Daniel groaned playfully, rubbing the back of his neck. "Go on, get it out of your system."

Max leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, and grinned. "I knew it. I’ve known it since, what, the first year we were teammates? You two were practically inseparable. The way you used to look at each other…" He shook his head, pretending to be exasperated. "I can’t believe it took you this long."

Y/N blushed, rolling her eyes. "Alright, Max, don’t be so dramatic. It wasn’t that obvious."

Max raised an eyebrow. "Y/N, you’re my sister. You think I didn’t notice how every time Daniel was around, you’d act different? Or how he was always finding some excuse to come over when you were visiting?"

Daniel groaned again, leaning back in his chair. "Okay, okay, you were right. Is that what you want to hear?"

Max smirked, taking a long sip of his coffee. "Yes. Yes, it is." He paused, then his expression softened, his teasing giving way to something more sincere. "But seriously, I’m happy for you both. You’re good together."

Daniel felt his heart swell at that. Max wasn’t the type to dish out compliments easily, especially when it came to his sister. He knew how protective Max was of Y/N, and hearing those words meant more than he could express.

"Thanks, mate," Daniel said quietly, meeting Max’s gaze. "It means a lot."

Max gave a small nod before turning his attention to Y/N. "Just promise me one thing — if he does anything stupid, you’ll let me know so I can give him hell for it."

Y/N laughed, giving her brother a playful shove. "I’m pretty sure I can handle him, Max."

Max grinned. "I have no doubt."

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm after that, the conversation light, the teasing back and forth, just like old times. For a brief moment, it felt like everything was as it should be — like the weight of the past few months had lifted, even if just for a little while.

As Max droned on about the next race and the changes to his car, Daniel glanced at Y/N, who was laughing at something Max had said. She caught his gaze, her smile softening, and in that moment, Daniel realized that no matter what happened next — no matter how uncertain the future felt — he wasn’t alone.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged. Not just in the sport or on the track, but with Y/N by his side. And whatever came next, they’d face it together.

"So," Max said suddenly, breaking through Daniel’s thoughts. "You’re both officially a thing now?"

Daniel smirked, his hand finding Y/N’s under the table. "Yeah, Max. We’re a thing."

Max raised his coffee cup in a mock toast. "Finally."

Y/N giggled, squeezing Daniel’s hand as they exchanged a knowing look.

Finally.

[7ndipity]

The Morning After

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon’s reaction to you waking up sore after a night together.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: +18 mdni, brief smut, overstimulation, swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

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It was still early when you woke up, face buried in the pillows as you lay on your stomach, the gentle sound of someone quietly humming your favorite song pulling you from sleep.

Slowly, you cracked your eyes open, searching out the owner of the familiar deep voice, smiling to yourself as your gaze fell on his half dressed figure, his back to you as he rummaged around in his closet.

Finding what he was looking for, he turned back towards the bed, stopping as he caught sight of your sleepy expression watching him.

“Hey.” Joon spoke softly, as if not wanting to wake you any further, coming to kneel in front of you.

“Hey,” You mumbled, stretching slowly. “Where're you going? It’s so early.”

“Just to the gym. Thought I’d get my workout in this morning, so we could have the afternoon together.” He said, smoothing down your hair.

You groaned. “How’re you not tired from last night? I can’t even move.” You replied, earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, that’s why I gotta keep my strength up.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Namjon!” You couldn’t stop moaning his name. “Fuck, please, Namjoon!” You cried out, feeling his length twitch and pulse inside of you with every sound that left your lips.

You’d been at it for hours, Joon pounding into you from behind as if his life depended on it, pumping into you over and over, twisting you around into every position he could think of, your bodies covered in a sticky sheen of sweat and cum.

“Agh-fuck!” You whimpered, letting your head drop to the mattress, clutching into the sheets beneath you for dear life as he slipped a hand around to circle your poor abused clit.

The feeling was so overwhelming, your whole body felt like it was on fire, every snap of his hips sending a jolt of electricity through you, causing the tension to build up inside of you at an alarming rate.

You’d lost count of how many times he’d made cum, but as he suddenly picked up the pace, slamming into you with enough force to knock the wind out of you, you could feel another rapidly approaching, tears rolled down your face as your body shook in ecstasy.

“Joonie, please, ‘s too much.” You whimpered. “ ‘m gonna cum again.”

He responded by pulling you even closer to him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he dragged you upright against his chest, impaling you on his cock.

“It’s alright, Baby, you can take it.” He panted, pressing messy, wet kisses against the back of your neck. “Just one more for me, please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding in your breath as Joon continued to pound up into your over sensitive pussy.

“F-fuck!” You cried, your body convulsing and going rigid as you came for the nth time around his cock.

"There it is." Joon groaned as you spasmed against him, holding you up as your body went limp from exhaustion. “Good job, Baby.”

Namjoon’s touch pulled your focus back to the present, tracing gently over your cheek down to your lips.

“You want me to bring back coffee and breakfast later?” He asked sweetly.

“Yes, please.” You said sleepily as he stood back up, going to finish packing his gym bag.

You moved to roll over and get out of the bed, letting out the tiniest whimper as you became fully aware of the soreness and sensitivity in your core and legs.

Joon froze at the sound, looking back at you concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a little sore.” You said, trying to sound convincing as you stood up, but your legs nearly gave out under you immediately, leaving you staggering back against the bed.

Joon jumped forward, catching you before you fell properly, holding you tightly by the waist.

“Fuck, baby, I thought you were joking!” He said, startled. “Are you okay?”

“I… I think I need to take it easy today.” You admitted weakly.

Joon stared down at you, absolutely stricken as he pulled you closer, holding you gently.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said guiltily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m okay.” You tried to reassure him, but he paid you no mind, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” You asked, clinging to him in surprise.

“I am going to run you a bath, and then we’re going to do whatever else you want to do today.”

“I thought you were going to the gym?” You said curiously.

“And leave you here when you can’t even walk? No way.” He shook his head. “I’m staying here and looking after you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You said quietly, feeling shy.

“Yes, I do.” He said seriously. “I love you, and I want to take care of you.”

“Alright,” You replied, slightly flustered.

He kept his word, refusing to let you so much as lift a finger the rest of the day, carrying you everywhere through the house as needed and waiting on you hand and foot.

“How are you feeling?” He asked for the tenth time as you sat together watching tv after dinner, dozing on his shoulder.

“Much better.” You said, snuggling closer. “Thank you for looking after me”

“Always.” He replied, kissing the top of your head. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Can we do this again next week?” You asked, grinning up at him cheekily.

“Seriously?!” He laughed.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged.

“Aren’t you worried about your legs or anything?” He asked, looking at you in disbelief.

“Not if I have you to carry me around.” You said, grinning up at him as you looped your arms around his neck.

“Let’s just focus on you feeling better right now, okay?” He chuckled.

“Alright.” You relented, slumping back down to rest back against his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He replied, watching as your eyes drooped back shut.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose

[jessybarnes]

Teach Me

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x Reader / Eventual Cas x Reader / No Destiel

Rating: 18+ Only!!

Tags: Voyeurism, Smut, Fingering (Female Receiving), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Squirting, Finger Sucking, Masturbation, Unprotected Sex, Use of Grace, A little bit of a Threesome (NO DESTIEL in this one), Some Fluff at the end, and I think that’s it.

Word Count: 2,966

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr blog, I hope you enjoy it!

Reblog Divider by: @cafekitsune

Dean couldn’t keep Y/N quiet. Her pleasure-filled screams echoed through the halls of the bunker as he flicked his tongue rapidly over her clit, two of his skilled fingers curling inside her searching out her sweet spot. He was just glad that they were alone and didn’t have any close neighbors because he was sure the cops would have been called by now. Edging was one of his favorite things to do to her. Dean loved seeing her beg. He always thought she begged pretty.

“Oh God, please… Dean, please! Need to cum…”

Dean knew she was close. The way her needy moans became pants as her walls started to tighten around his thick digits, it was his key to stop. He pulled out of her, chuckling at her low whimper. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Sweetheart, I didn’t give you permission yet. You gotta be a good girl. Only good girls get what they want. Think you can do that for me?”

Y/N’s chest was heaving, and she swore the moment anything touched her throbbing clit she’d explode, but Dean always knew what she needed. Especially when she was in a submissive state like this. She felt Dean’s calloused hands slide slowly up her sides, goosebumps rising in their wake. His lips sucked at the pulse point just below her ear sending a shiver down her spine. 

“D-Dean…” 

His lips ghosted along the skin of her throat ever so lightly. It was getting hard for him to hold back himself, so he could only imagine how she was feeling. His fingers found her slick folds once again, her walls fluttering around nothing before he slid one into her. The action wasn’t anything near what she needed, but it was better than him not touching her at all. 

Y/N began to raise her hips to meet the lazy thrust of his finger. All she needed was a little bit more, just a little more, and she’d be soaring into pure bliss. Dean’s sound of disapproval brought her back to reality, and she almost sobbed when he pulled out of her. 

“Ah, Ah, Ah. Didn’t say you could move, darlin’.”

“Fuck, please… please Dean. I-I need it.”

Just as Dean was about to give in and grant the release they both needed, a flutter of wings sounded in the corner of the room. Y/N scrambled up the bed, covering herself with the sheet just as Dean threw his black t-shirt on and grabbed his pistol off the nightstand. 

“Y/N? Is everything alright? I heard you calling for De-”

The familiar figure of Castiel stood clad in his usual attire looking halfway between confused and embarrassed as he took in the scene before him. His head tilted slightly before he spoke again, his attention fixed on Dean curiously. 

“Dean, was it you that was causing Y/N to cry out in distress?”

Y/N watched as Dean put his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes. 

“Dammit, Cas … Y/N wasn’t distressed. She was enjoyin’ herself.”

Cas’ eyes narrowed to thin slits finally realizing that they were completely naked save for Dean’s tee. He walked forward slightly, picking up Dean’s boxers for a moment before dropping them back onto the pile of clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, I understand now Dean. This is how humans participate in the act of intercourse. My apologies for interrupting.”

Y/N watched as Cas awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other before looking at Dean expectantly. 

“Cas? You okay, buddy? I was kinda hoping to get back to uh … well, ya know …”

Cas’ blue eyes wandered over their bare skin slowly, and Y/N didn’t miss the hint of redness that tinted his cheeks.

“Dean? I would very much like to learn how to make Y/N enjoy herself as you did. Can you teach me?”

Y/N’s gaze darted to Dean’s as he looked at her, the silent question was understood and she nodded slightly. A moment later, Dean stood from his spot at the foot of the bed and walked slowly towards his angel friend. Cas looked at him curiously as the fabric of his signature blue tie slid through the hunter’s thumb and index finger. 

“Well, first things first Cas, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

He looked crestfallen at Dean, grasping the lapel of his trench coat lovingly. 

“I like my clothing Dean. I don’t see why it would matter if I took all of it off or not.”

Y/N held back a laugh, shaking her head as Dean scrubbed a hand across his face. 

“Cas, buddy, you gotta be naked. It’s uhh … it’s easier to …” 

He sighed heavily, the annoyance thick in his tone.

“Trust me on this, Cas. Okay? It’ll make Y/N happy.”

Moments later, the ever-so-powerful angel of the Lord stood there in nothing but his white boxers. Y/N hadn’t realized just how muscular he was underneath all the layers of clothing he normally wore. His biceps were notably distinguished, his chest looked firm, and his deeply defined Adonis belt was deliciously inviting. 

“I still don’t see how my lack of clothing would make Y/N feel pleasure, Dean.”

Just as Dean let out another exasperated sigh, Y/N patted the bed welcomingly and scooted over. 

“C’mere Cas, let me show you what Dean’s talkin’ about.”

The angel stole a hesitant glance at Dean, watching him nod towards the bed. Cas swallowed thickly and made his way over to where Y/N laid invitingly. 

Cas watched as her delicate hand patted the thin fitted sheet. Her fingers sliding over the fabric made his pulse quicken. It wasn’t until Dean sat on the end of the bed that he came to his senses. 

“Go on, Cas. You have to feel how smooth her skin is. Y/N’s got the prettiest skin doesn’t she?” 

It’s true that Cas always admired how beautifully smooth it looked. He just didn’t think he would ever get this opportunity. Celestial beings weren’t supposed to participate in acts like this. Sexual desires rarely crossed his mind, mainly because it was wired into his genetic code to serve God. 

Ever so slowly he extended his hand, allowing it to come to rest on Y/N’s bare hip. Not only was her skin soft, but this simple touch seemed to electrify his body. The celestial energy within him made everything more heightened. An instinct he never thought he would’ve possessed took over. 

Y/N returned the gesture by stroking her fingertips along the side of his cheek. She watched as Cas closed his eyes, the initial contact making him shiver. He’d never been touched so intimately before. The sensations from it alone caused his breath to hitch, and she hadn’t even got him completely naked yet. He hadn’t even noticed Dean move to the chair in the corner until his gruff voice broke the silence in the room, egging him on. 

“Yeah, buddy that’s it. Kiss her next. See if you can find the spot on her neck that drives her absolutely wild.”

Y/ N’s gaze flitted from the angel’s slightly parted lips to his cerulean eyes. It made desire begin to pool in her abdomen seeing him like this. She’d always had feelings for Cas, but it never seemed possible that she would be able to explore those desires. His mouth descended onto her neck, kissing and sucking at her soft skin. 

Y/N’s back arched into his toned chest at its own accord, his lips continuing their journey south. His ocean-colored eyes looked up through his thick lashes at her reaction to his kisses. It never occurred to him how such a small gesture could have such an effect on someone. He wanted more, needed to see Y/N come completely apart for him. 

Cas marveled at her beautiful figure laid out before him. Beads of sweat collected in the valley between her breasts, her chest rising and falling as she looked down at him with want. He gracefully kissed his way back up to her bowtie lips, capturing them in a passionate caress. His tongue danced with hers expertly, the thickening of his cock evident against her upper thigh. 

The moment his lips left hers a needy whine fell from her lips. Y/N looked over at Dean and felt her walls clench again. Seeing him fully naked again with his cock in his hand, hard and leaking, drove her absolutely wild. Her body began to shake again, her hands fisting the sheets. 

“P-Please… I… I can’t… I need…”

Dean chuckled as Cas looked over at him with slight confusion etched in his features. He bit his lip, nodding at the angel to keep going as he slowly increased the speed of his hand on his cock. 

“Dean, did I do something wrong? Y/N seems to be in distress again.”

A low moan fell from the elder Winchester’s lips. It was getting harder to focus on being a teacher when he was getting the hottest live show he’d ever seen. Eventually, he shook his head and tried desperately to form a coherent sentence. 

“Nah buddy, I bet her pussy’s soaked. Just look at the way she’s breathin’. You see the way her eyes roll back in her head just from your hands and mouth touching her? That’s just the tip of the iceberg, Cas. You really wanna hear Y/N lose it, then you gotta find her sweet spot.”

Dean stood up and joined his angelic friend on the bed, carefully spreading Y/N’s legs. He showed Cas his middle and ring fingers for a moment before dipping them into the slick folds of her sex. Cas didn’t miss how her back arched off the bed or the way she whimpered. Dean didn’t keep them inside her long though. This wasn’t his show anymore, but he wasn’t upset. If he was honest with himself, teaching turned him on more than he thought it would.

“You see that? Now you try…”

Cas slid his left hand up Y/N’s thigh, his fingertips ghosting over the goosebumps on her skin. He didn’t miss how she sucked in a breath the moment his fingers grazed her folds. Dean was right, she was very wet. Ever so slowly, he began to smooth them up and down, his cock throbbing in his boxers every time a new plea fell from her mouth. 

“Is this her sweet spot, Dean?” 

His hand never faltered as his blue eyes met Dean’s lust-blown ones. The hunter shook his head and bit his lip, his voice thick with arousal as he spoke. 

“Not quite, Cas. I’ll help you find it though. Those two fingers you’re touchin’ her with? Push them inside her. Then, I want you to curl them upwards.”

Cas did as he was told, and the moment he curled his fingers the prettiest moan he’d ever heard filled the room like a prayer.

“Oh, Cas!... M-More… please!”

Cas didn’t have to be told twice. Virgin or not, he could tell he’d found the spot that drove her crazy. He began to rub his fingers along the spot inside her, his other hand rubbing his own arousal through his boxers to gain some relief. Dean praised him, egging him on as he used his thumb to draw circles around her clit. 

“That’s it, Cas. Fuck... keep moving your hand like that, and she’ll cum in no time. You think we should let her? You wanna see her squirt? She taste’s like Heaven.”

Cas wasn’t sure what Dean meant by that, but he loved the way Y/N’s walls squeezed around his fingers. He continued to thrust his fingers in and out, a little faster each time. His eyes went wide as he watched Dean lowered his mouth towards where his hand was.

“I’m about to show you another spot, Cas. This one’s called her clit. Y/N’s about to become putty in our hands. Ready, buddy?” 

Cas nodded, licking his lips as Dean closed his mouth over Y/N. Almost instantaneously he felt her walls clamp around his fingers. He couldn’t believe he’d never experienced anything like this before. Why would his Father keep something this pleasurable hidden from his brothers and sisters for so long? A few seconds later, Cas felt something wet gush over his vessel’s hand. 

“Oh, fuck! C-Cas…. Dean I… I’m gonna… Right there!... OH, FUCK!!”

Dean sat back on his heels, his chin glistening with Y/N’s juices. A smirk formed on his lips before he gestured to where Cas’ hand was. 

“Good job, buddy. You know, for an angel you’re not too bad at this. Taste her, Cas. Then, I wanna see you fuck her.” 

Cas did as instructed and slowly removed his fingers from Y/N’s heat. He curiously observed the way they glistened with her wetness for a moment before sucking them between his lips. His eyes fluttered closed as he tasted her. Dean was right, she was delicious and he needed more. Before he could stop himself, he settled between her quivering legs. His instincts took over and soon he was devouring her like it was the only thing keeping him alive. 

“Sh-Shit! CAS!! Ohholyshityes… yes… YES!” So good… Oh, you’re so good! AH!” 

Dean’s jaw went slack as he watched the scene play out before him. His cock jerked in his hand, and he began to jerk himself faster. The coil of his arousal tightening with each passing moment he watched Cas work Y/N over. 

“Jesus, Cas… Look at you, making her a complete mess with your mouth. Fuck… yeah, make her sweet pussy cum again… C’mon, buddy… you can do it. Make her scream…”

His words gave him the fuel he needed. He closed his mouth over the same spot Dean had before and sucked. He could quickly tell that she was sensitive, so as if on queue he used his grace to hold Y/N in place while he moved his tongue in circles across her bundle of nerves. 

“Ca...Cas… Cas, OhmyG-... M’gonna… Fuck, I’m gonna… CAS!!!”

He released her clit and sat up next to where Dean was standing. His pupils fully engulfing the blue of his eyes. His cock was painfully hard in the confines of his boxers, so he took a moment to remove them. 

“Cas, I think she’s ready for you. God, I can’t wait to see you fuck her and watch her cum with you buried inside her.” 

Cas had never had something so filthy be spoken to him, but it unlocked something inside him. Something primal that needed to be sated, and it was something only Y/N could provide him. He positioned himself between her legs and pushed inside her, not stopping until his hips met hers. He heard her cry out and stopped, his eyes looking down into hers as he waited for her to adjust to him. 

“Please… please, Cas… fuck me…”

The moment the words left her lips, he gave in and began a punishing pace. Dean marveled at the way Y/N looked from this angle. He knew he wasn’t going to last like this. Seeing his best friend fuck the girl he loved senselessly would be his undoing.

He stood there fucking himself into his hand while the most obscene noises filled his ears. It all became too much, the sound of skin slapping against skin, the stream of Enochian coming from Castiel, and the sound of Y/N begging for him to cum sent him over the edge. Thick ropes of his release coated her chest and neck as he gripped the headboard for support. 

“Mmm, fuck Cas… Yeah, buddy… fuck her just like that… She feels amazing, doesn’t she? That tight pussy squeezing your cock like a vice. She’s close, I can tell.” 

He leaned down close to her ear and flicked his tongue over her earlobe. 

“You like when Cas fucks you, sweetheart? His cock feels good splitting you open… I can tell. You gonna cum for us? Gonna cum all over him?”

The moment Y/N’s walls fluttered around Cas he was a goner. With a guttural cry, he stilled inside her, his release filling her completely. 

For a few moments, no one said anything. It was all just heavy breathing and the occasional whimper from Y/N. Dean broke the silence and ran a hand through his sweat-slicked hair before slipping back into his boxers. 

“That was… wow… We gotta do that more often. He padded across the room to the door and gave the Cas and Y/N a lopsided smile. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up. You two should do the same and then we can talk about all this.”

He was gone seconds later, but before Y/N could move to get up herself, Cas shook his head.

“Allow me.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, they were both clean and back in their clothes. She smiled at him and threaded her fingers with his.

“That was amazing, Cas. I… I don’t know what we do from here, but I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Cas smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple.

“I may be somewhat ignorant of intimate feelings, but Dean seemed pleased with what we just did together.” 

The two made their way to the Bunker’s library completely sated. If you’d told Y/N a year ago that she’d be fucked into oblivion by an angel of the Lord while one of the most beautiful hunters that ever existed watched, she would have laughed. Now? Now, it was safe to say that anything can happen, and she couldn’t wait for Dean to give Cas another lesson.

[a-leg-without-fear]

The Miranda to His Ferdinand

this is actually the response to this ask from the lovely @yarrystyleeza!!! i was so frickin inspired and ended up writing this :)

Ship: College!Matt Murdock x f!Reader

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: lots o' Shakespeare, kissing, suggestive material

Series: Request Fulfillment

Your dorm's mattress creaked as you and Matt settled on top. He sat to your left, braille script clutched in his hand, with his sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar and his hair ruffled after a long day. An easy smile settled over his full lips.

"What's the play, again?" he asked, an eyebrow cocked as a large hand swept over the front page of his script. Long fingers traced the raised bumps on the solid white pages.

"The Tempest," you replied with a sighed chuckle, "It's about a woman, Miranda, who's lived on an island her whole life, knowing only her father and their slave, Caliban. Ferdinand shipwrecks on their island, then he and Miranda fall in love. Typical Shakespeare stuff."

Matt laughed at your synopsis, shaking his head, "And you're auditioning for Miranda, I'm guessing?"

"Nope, Caliban," you snarked in return. Matt rolled his eyes as you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Alright, Caliban. Which scene are we reading?"

"The last part of Act Three, Scene One," you said, flipping your script to the correct page, "Should be page ten in your booklet."

Crinkling pages filled the comfortable silence between you. It was quick work to find the correct page, considering the section you'd be reading from was labeled "MIRANDA AUDITION." The booklet lay open in your palms as you scanned briefly through the lines. You could almost feel the adoration formed by the prose, the pure affection woven into the words. Shakespeare truly was a genius.

"Okay, page ten," Matt announced, breaking your silent reverence of The Bard. You cleared your throat.

"Right. Ready?" you asked as you straightened your posture. Matt nodded, gesturing for you to start. A deep breath filled your lungs, chest expanding like a balloon, as you tamped down your nerves.

"Do you love me?" you read from the script. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye. His lips ticked up in the corners as he read his part.

"Oh heaven, oh earth, bear witness to this sound," he began, fingers rapidly skimming over the pages, "And crown what I profess with kind event if I speak true. If hollowly, invert what best is boded me to mischief. I, beyond all limit of what else in the world, do love, prize and honor you."

You couldn't breathe. Not when Matt's sightless gaze was fixed right between your eyes. Not when this profession of love came from him so earnestly. Not when your years of pining after him had finally bubbled to the surface.

"I-I am a fool," you stuttered. You shook your head, clearing the distracting thoughts, then tried again, "I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of."

Matt placed his free hand on your knee. Your heart pounded against your ribs, anticipation leaking into your blood like ink in water.

"Wherefore weep you?" he read softly. His dark eyes traced the space around your head. Almost searching, scouring for your answer in the planes of your face.

"At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer what I desire to give, and much less take what I shall die to want. But this is trifling. And all the more it seeks to hide itself, the bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, and prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me. If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow you may deny me, but I'll be your servant. Whether you will or no."

A tense silence fell over the two of you like a sudden burst of snow. Your pulse coursed rapidly under your heated skin. The weight of the line you'd read felt world-encompassing. Would he understand that it wasn't just you reading words? That the meaning behind them is what you felt?

"My mistress, dearest, and I thus humble ever," Matt whispered, a faint glance of understanding passing behind his eyes. You swallowed a lump the size of a baseball.

"My husband then?"

The hand nearly burning a hole in your knee wrapped its fingers around your own.

"Ay, with a heart as willing as bondage ever of freedom. Here's my hand," Matt breathed, fingers tangling with yours. Your breath caught behind your lips. This is happening.

"And mine, with my heart in it," you said shakily.

That same silence. Charged like the static before a lightning strike. Nearly choking you with how intense the moment felt. The pad of Matt's thumb rubbed circles into the back of your hand.

“Does Ferdinand get to kiss Miranda in this scene?” he asked, gaze landing on your lips. Your heart leapt like a horse over a hurdle. Swirls of anxiety and finally! chased each other through your mind.

“It-it’s not in the script, but I think ad-libbing is more than okay,” you said as your heartbeat roared in your ears. Matt’s signature, cocky smirk pulled at his lips.

His hand seemed to move in slow motion as it lifted from his braille script and cradled your jaw. Palm warm, almost searing, and calloused like you could barely believe. Yet you’d never felt anything softer. His thumb passed over your flushed cheek slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, before it caught on your bottom lip.

“Is this okay?” Matt asked, voice barely above a whisper, as his thumb pulled gently on your lip. A shudder rolled over your spine like rumbling thunder.

“Yes,” you uttered with a quick nod.

Before you could blink, his lips were pressed against yours. Lightning struck your mind and rendered you breathless. Shocks coursed through your veins. Your heart nearly stopped beating.

He was kissing you.

Matthew Michael fucking Murdock was kissing you.

You quickly reached out and clung to him like he was your lifeline. You didn’t want this moment to end. This singularity that felt impossible, your whole life building to this one kiss. 

Warm fingers carded through your hair and tangled in the strands. Matt pulled you closer, your chests pressed together. He swiped his tongue along your lips to silently ask permission. You more than welcomed the intrusion as an involuntary moan kicked up your throat, opening your mouth to grant him entrance. A groan of his own matched yours in kind. He licked into you like you were the first drop of water after a month in the desert. Drinking from you, clinging to you, almost desperate.

Your head was spinning. You could barely breathe. Your hands shook where they clung to Matt’s t-shirt.

And just like that, it was over. Matt parted from you like separating two strong magnets. His forehead rested against yours, heaving breaths puffing along your cheeks. You screwed your eyes shut at the loss of his lips on yours.

“I could… I could do that forever,” Matt laughed breathlessly. You grinned as you opened your eyes. His sightless gaze was fixed on you. Pure adoration flowed from his joyful expression, how his eyes crinkled in the corners and how his dimples dug into his cheeks. You couldn’t help but match his wide smile.

“Me too,” was your clever response. You inwardly groaned at your quick wit. Matt chuckled, placing a chaste kiss to your hairline.

“When’s your audition?” he asked, like how close he was didn’t render your mind completely useless. You took a moment to gather your deteriorating thoughts.

“Tonight. At eight,” you said. Matt hummed.

“And what time is it now?”

You glanced at the digital clock that sat on your nightstand. In bold, red letters, the clock displayed “4:48 pm.”

“Almost five,” you replied. Matt ran the tips of his nails over your scalp. Pulses of pleasure coursed through you, your head tipping back in his hands, as your eyes fluttered shut.

“I think that’s plenty of time to run the scene some more, don’t you think?” he suggested, voice a low rumble deep in his chest. All you could do was nod.

And if rehearsal ran long, who were you to object?

[sorapricots]

Soothing Heaven

Summary: While the nightmare kept trailing behind each of his step keeping him wide awake and tied down to the reminder that his the last of his people, you always accept him with warm smile and open arms.

Pair: Aventurine x Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Warnings: Everyone is sad here :(

A/N: I got aventurine in soft pity AND I won my 50/50 TWICE (Yes my Aventurine is E1 I am so proud) can y’all believe that? Not to mention I got his light cone on 10 pulls with 0 pity… he wanted me fr fr.  Aventurine story quest really kills me. He just want a peaceful life yet the fate say no n make him suffering more than he already suffered :( that man just need some hug fr.

Wc:  1,1k

“You’re a child blessed by Gaiathra Triclops and can lead the clan to happiness. So always remember to protect yourself and never resent the pain and poverty you’re going through… All right?”

Aventurine gasped as he opened his eyes. Beeping from the alarm beside his table can be heard. He pushed the alarm off as he blankly stared the ceiling above him. His sister’s words keep echoing in his head. He exhaled softly as he pushed his body from the bed.

As he started to get ready he start to imagine what and how his trip to penacony will be. Will his mission from the IPC will go smoothly or will he encounter enemies he can’t face?

Whatever the result is he surely does not excited to leave. He grabbed his phone as he walked out from his bedroom. Quickly searching for your name in his contact list and call your number.

One, two, and three rings you finally pick up his call.

“Hello! Good morning my love.” Your smooth voice made him smile softly as he opened the fridge.

“Good morning my lucky charm.” He can hear you giggle from the phone which only make his smile harder. Suddenly he feel the tattoo on his neck pulsed. Which make him grunt a bit. Making his lover stop talking.

“Are you okay my love?” you asked voice laced with worries. Aventurine let out a small hum to show that he’s okay when in reality his clutching his neck pretty hard.

“I don’t feel so good about this my love… are you sure you are okay and will go to penacony?” Aventurine can’t help but smile with how worried and how caring his lover to his well being.

“Don’t worry sunshine, I will be alright. You know I always be alright.” Aventurine can hear you sniffled. Aventurine cooed at the thought of you wiping your tears.

“I’ll go to your place now hm? Let’s have some time together before I left with Topas. I’ll see you in 10, love. I love you my lucky charm.” You let out a choke hum before bid him goodbye and hear a beep from your phone.

.

.

.

10 minutes never feel so long in your life as you sit on the counter with your earbuds on trying to drown bad thoughts in your head. Your finger turning red as you keep picking the skin.

You blinked when you see a harm gloved fingers carefully pull your fingers apart. Suddenly the world is quiet.

Aventurine carefully cup your cheeks with his hands. Treating you like a glass he got from an auction with highest price. Carefully he wiped aways those tears that won’t stop streaming down. And end it with a soft kiss on each of your eyes.

“I’m here. And always be here no matter how far we are.” He said with a whisper. Your eyelids rapidly blink away the tears before you pull him to a hug. Inhaling his scent and absorbing his warmth.

“Be safe, Kakavasha.” Your tone wavering. Aventurine smile softly at the way you call him by his real name. A privilege that is reserve for you and you only.

“I will, precious.” His hands softly rub your back as you hug him harder.

“Let me drop you off at the office.” You spoke softly as you pull yourself a bit to see your lover face. Aventurine smile and nodded.

You both go to IPC office, hands entangled to one and another refusing to let go. The closer you are to the office the tighter your grip on his hand. And all he can do is just pulling you closer to his side.

“Well looks like someone is not willing to say their goodbye.” Topaz welcome both of you with Numby on her shoulder squeaking. You smile at her before Aventurine pull you a bit far away to talk.

“I will go now…” there’s a heavy atmosphere enveloping around both of you.

“I will wait here…” your voice crack as your vision blurry. Hands carefully play with one of his rings.

Aventurine lean in carefully. Cupping your cheeks as his forehead touch yours. His multi-coloured eyes stare at your glossy ones. Thumbs carefully wiping the fallen tears before he kissed you.

Slowly Aventurine pull away. You watch as one of your hand hold the other half set of earing that you have with Aventurine. Carefully playing with the crystal as your eyes watch Aventurine get into the car with Topaz and left.

Empty start to engulfing you as you walk home alone.

.

.

.

Anxious.

One feeling that have been haunted you for the past 3 days. The news spread like a wildfire about what happened with IPC especially Aventurine in Penacony.

If it’s not because how hard it was to be able to step a foot on Penacony and the responsibility you have at home you would go to Aventurine as soon as you can. But fate decided the other thing and all you can do is just wait.

Your eyes keep moving back to your phone as your fingers typing stuff at the laptop on your lap. The sky getting dark and yet there’s no ongoing news about what happened with your lover. Not even from Topaz herself.

Suddenly there’s a jingle of keychains. Your finger immediately stopped typing as you try to confirm yourself if you hear something. You can feel your chest beating.

The door creaked as it opened slowly. Showing a figure with clothing style that you so familiar with. In a hurry you put everything aside and you run to welcome him.

There he was. Your Aventurine. Looks so dishevelled. His skin looks paler than he already is. There’s no glint of light in his multi-coloured eyes. He looks like he’s about to collapsed anytime soon.

You open your arms. No words to be said as your eyes mirror his. Slowly he walked towards you before he let his body fall limp into your arms.

No sobs to be heard from him, but the way you can feel your shirt getting damp tell a story that don’t need to be untold. Carefully both of you fall to the floor. With Aventurine still in your arms and your arms carefully rub his back.

Suddenly you feel him circling his arms around you. Tight enough for you to unable to let go. You hug him equally tight. Sway your body from side to side. Aiding his inner turmoil. Telling him without words that you will be there.

“Welcome back, Kakavasha.” you said with the softest tone you can give. Sobs suddenly break out from him as you try to calm his trembling body by playing his hair.

Maybe, maybe this is what the emanator of nihility meant when she told him to go back. His soothing heaven is waiting for him after all.

[mikimakiboo]

Time Travelers AU - Meat

Heeeeere we go again ( @ancha-aus come here friend )

Taking a break in posting art to post a fic lmao

First

Prev

Next

A new morning began, and Dust woke up with Killer's face right in front oh his, which resulted in the Roman getting punched in the nose as a reflex from Dust, who let out a higher pitched scream than he would have wanted to admit. Dust heard Killer yelp and bring his hands to his face, backing down.

- What the fuck are you doing in my room ?!

He yelled at the Roman whining on his floor, sitting up straight on his bed and pulling the covers to hide his body, which was more of a reflex than anything as he wasn't naked but in pajamas.

- Audivi te gementes... !

Killer tried to explain, but the door flung open before he could finish, and Cross entered, panicked, and, judging by his tilted helmet, woken up by Dust's scream.

- Avez-vos uns problesme ?!

Dust only recognized the word "problem".

- I've got a problem yeah, he's watching me sleep !

- Tu gementes !

Killer tried again, but Cross had already grabbed his arm to pull him out of the room despite Killer's attempt to resist.

Dust looked at them leave, letting go of his covers. What was Killer doing in his room ? What was he trying to say ? Dust doubted the Roman just came to watch him sleep, unless he was that creepy.

He sighed, getting up as he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep now, and put on his clothes before exiting his room. Killer was unhappily sitting by Cross's feet who was still holding his arm to prevent him from going anywhere.

- You can let him go, it's okay.

He sighed, gesturing at Killer. Cross looked at him for a moment before reluctantly letting go of his arm. Once freed Killer went straight to his corner, sitting down with his back turned, pouting. Dust would have to talk to him, but for now he had to open the bay window for Horror before he broke it by trying to open it himself, which reminded him that he had to go pick up the dictionary at the bookstore.

He let Horror in and let the window opened to bring some fresh air inside, he noticed that Nightmare was still asleep on the couch when he turned back around, he was laying on his stomach with his face burried in a pillow and one arm hanging from the couch. That couldn't be a comfortable position, how could he even breath like that ? ... Was he still breathing ? Dust stared at him for a few seconds before reaching out to press two fingers against his throat, he almost sighed in relief when he felt a pulse

- Opna.

Dust stood straight again when Horror talked from the kitchen.

- Huh ?

He really needed that dictionary.

- Opna.

Horror repeated, pointing at the fridge.

- You, uh.. want me to open the fridge ? You're hungry ?

Dust tried to guess, going to open the fridge to let Horror have a look inside. The Viking looked at the few items in the fridge, not touching anything, with a frown on his face. Was it not what he wanted ?

- You're not hung..

- Slátr.

He interrupted Dust. Cross looked at him.

- Slátr, er ?

He asked again, looking at Dust.

- I need my phone...

Dust finally answered, going in his room to grab his phone before coming back, turning the translator on for Horror to repeat once again what he said.

- Er slátr ?

"Where meat". He wanted to know where the meat was ? Dust didn't have meat, it was too expensive, he only bought some when it was on sale and he didn't find any last time he went shopping, so no, no meat. Dust shook his head, searching the word money at the same time.

- No slátr, no, uh.. penningr.. ?

His accent was awful. Horror frowned, but didn't answer, simply nodding and turning away from the fridge. Dust looked at him, thinking that he must have understood and closed the fridge door, going to the bathroom to wash himself rapidly. Horror wasn't inside anymore when he got out, but he didn't pay much attention to it, the bay window was opened after all, he was sureley in the garden.

Dust put on his shoes and went to the door, already on the Google Translate page to ask Cross to let him go out, but to his surprise it wasn't needed as Cross avoided his gaze and moved to the side to let him pass. Weird. Dust might need to adress that too when he came back.

The bookstore was a little farther than the grocery store, and Dust didn't want to waste time by waiting for the bus so decided to walk, not wanting to leave them all alone for too long without any distraction.

When Dust came back he saw Killer talking, or rather complaining, to Nightmare, who looked like he just woke up and really didn't want to have a conversation. He put the dictionary on the table before looking at these two, opening Google once again, feeling that he would need it. Killer stared at him, still very much unhappy judging by his frown, then he looked at Nightmare who sighed before speaking.

- Vous faisiez un cauchemar, il voulait s'assurer que le reste de votre nuit se passât bien.

Dust waited for the translation to appear, and, oh, he was having a nightmare and Killer wanted to make sure he slept well for the rest of the night, that was... actually quite thoughtful... he kinda felt bad about hitting him, kinda, because watching him sleep this close to his face was still a weird thing to do.

- Oh, uh.. thank you then.. ? Merci.. ?

- Gratis.

Nightmare simply said to Killer, who seemed to untense a little, but he still seemed to wait for more.

- And sorry for hitting you, I'm.. désolé, pour, uh.. frapper ?

He tried, but thankfully Nightmare understood.

- Ipse suus paenitet te malum facere.

Killer seemed satisfied, looking up to smile at Dust, before sitting next to Nightmare on the couch. Nightmare didn't look happy with that but decided against complaining, not wanting to argue right after waking up.

Dust grabbed the dictionary again, going to the garden to show it to Horror, only to not find Horror in the garden. Was he in the bathroom ? He went back inside, noting that Cross seemed more nervous than when he left earlier. Dust looked at him for a second, noticing the sweat drop and Cross's increasing nervousness the longer he stared at him.

- Cross where is Horror ?

Cross didn't answer, avoiding his gaze.

- Cross.

Just as Dust was about to ask again, the door opened, making both Cross and Dust flinch, and Horror entered, holding his axe with blood on the blade as well as on his hands and a few drops on his face, he had a carcass on his shoulder that he was holding in place with his free hand.

Dust froze. Horror was outside, and he came back with an unidentified corpse, in plain daylight. He came back with a corpse ! Where did he find that corpse !? Was the corpse alive when he found it !? Of course it was, there was blood on his axe ! Who did he kill ? Did he kill someone ?! Someone's pet ?! It seemed too big to be a pet. Was it a human !? Dust really hoped he didn't kill a human, even if he did dislike them pretty much. Was he racist ? There were nice humans, some of his colleagues were humans and they were nice... now wasn't the time to think about his moral code, Horror just came back with a corpse and-

- Slátr.

Meat. Yeah Dust could see it was meat. Wait, did Horror went to hunt for him because he told him he didn't have money for meat ? Well it was kind of him but he didn't have to, like, he really didn't have to.

Dust was speechless, what was he supposed to say ? What should one say when your roommate who came from another time period came back with a fresh corpse on his shoulder ? Google would probably tell him to call the cops, but Dust obviously wouldn't do that.

Horror frowned when Dust didn't talk, wasn't he happy ? He said he didn't have meat, so he went out and brought him some, didn't that please him ? Or was he just in shock ? Was it the first time he had meat in his life and that was why he didn't know what to say ? Well, in that case, he would need to cook it perfectly to make sure Dust's first time eating meat would be a great experience !

Horror pushed the door to close it, walking past Dust to go put his axe down against the wall, next to the couch on which Nightmare and Killer were sitting. Killer had a wide smile on his face, seeming very excited about the meat he just brought back, as for Nightmare... it was hard to say. He had glanced at the axe when Horror put it down, and was now staring at him, his gaze planted in his eyesockets, his hand was firmly gripped on his cape, his breathing louder, but appart from that he didn't seem scared, he seemed more... mesmerized ? It was strange, and Horror decided not to think about it for now, he had meat to cook.

And to cook meat, he needed a fire, which meant he had to go in the backyard and collect some branches and leaves, anything that could catch fire.

Dust quickly ran to the backyard once he came back to his senses, looking at the big piece of meat on the outside table and at Horror who was visibly preparing material to make a fire. He wanted to say something, ask him where the meat came from, but his stomach growled at that moment, making Horror look up at him. And he smiled. A knowing smile. He knew he couldn't afford meat, and he knew he was hungry, so he went out and brought back meat. Maybe Dust didn't really want to know where the meat came from.

- I'll go grab a lighter.

He finally said, going back inside to take one of his many lighters, he quite smoking because the cigarettes were too expensive, so now he just had an army of lighters all scattered in his appartment.

He just sat behind Horror while he cooked above the fire. As unseasoned as the meat was, it smelled delicious, so much that he could have cried if he wasn't holding it back, not wanting to worry the Viking.

They all ate outside, and a few tears did come out as Dust bit into the hot ribs. It was just so good, to finally have meat in his plate, fresh meat that wouldn't expire in two days because it was on sale.

That, and not eating alone, even if the group was weird, he felt good, sitting outside with them, the warmth of the fire behind him, listening to them trying to understand each other and laugh at the poor pronunciation of the others when they weren't doing better themselves...

Yeah, Dust felt good, for the first time in ages, he didn't feel so lonely anymore...

[rreidsdream]

Empty Office

Summary: Spencer had a secret crush on you and he finally confessed to you.

Paring: Spencer Reid x reader

CW/Tags: shy!spencer, secret crush, fantasizing, public!make out session

WC: 1.1k

It was a quiet afternoon at the BAU office. The hum of computers, the faint sound of typing, and the occasional murmur from agents discussing cases filled the air. Spencer Reid sat at his desk, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, as he worked through his paperwork. His mind, however, wasn't entirely on the task at hand. No, Spencer was distracted by you.

You had always been different from everyone else. The way you carried yourself, the sound of your voice, the way you leaned over his desk when you came to ask him a question-it all made his heart race. Even now, as he pushed his glasses up his nose and tried to refocus, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The mere sight of you had this effect on him.

The rest of the team teased him endlessly about it, calling him "genius" as they shared knowing looks whenever you were near. Spencer wasn't oblivious to the tension between the two of you, but he was far too shy and awkward to ever act on it. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

But today, you walked into the office with that mischievous smile on your face, your eyes searching for him.

When you spotted him sitting at his desk, head buried in his papers, you sauntered over. Spencer felt you before he saw you-your presence was like electricity in the air, and suddenly, the room felt ten degrees warmer.

"Hey, Reid," you said, sitting on the edge of his desk. "I'm bored. Finished my work, and now l've got nothing to do."

Spencer froze, his hands halting over the keyboard. He looked up at you, his throat dry. "Oh, um, that's... that's good.

I mean, not good that you're bored, but good that you're, uh, finished with your work."

You smiled at him, your eyes twinkling. He was just too cute when he got flustered like this. "Do you have anything for me to do?" you asked, leaning forward just slightly, your presence intoxicatingly close.

Spencer swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. His mind scrambled for a response. "I-I have this book," he stammered, reaching into his bag and pulling out a worn paperback. "I think you'd like it. It's about... uh, probability theory. It's really interesting, I swear."

You raised an eyebrow but took the book from his hands, your fingers brushing against his. That small, innocent touch sent a jolt of heat through Spencer's body, and he felt himself blush furiously. You didn't seem to notice, though, as you settled back beside him, flipping through the pages.

He tried to focus on his work, but the sound of you reading next to him, the way your eyes moved across the pages, the way you occasionally bit your lip in concentration-it was driving him insane. He could feel himself getting more and more flustered, his mind wandering to thoughts he really shouldn't be having in the middle of the office.

His imagination took over, unbidden. He imagined leaning over, taking the book from your hands, and pulling you into him. He imagined kissing you, feeling the soft warmth of your lips against his, the way you'd melt into him, the way your fingers would tangle in his hair...

He snapped out of it, blinking rapidly.

This was ridiculous. He couldn't just daydream about you like this. Not here.

Not now.

But you were so close, so impossibly close. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made his skin prickle with anticipation.

He had to say something, had to do something before he completely lost control.

"Hey," he said, his voice shakier than he intended. You looked up at him, your eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Yeah?" you asked, your voice soft, a little teasing.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He hesitated for a moment, glancing around the office. Everyone else seemed occupied, busy with their own tasks. He took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage he had.

"I-I need to talk to you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Privately."

You looked at him, surprised, but intrigued. Without a word, you slid off the desk, and he stood up, his movements awkward and hurried. He led you to an empty office at the end of the hall, his hands trembling slightly as he closed the door behind the two of you.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the tension exploded between you.

Spencer turned to face you, his eyes wide and filled with uncertainty, but also with something darker-something more primal.

"I can't-" he began, his voice cracking.

"I can't keep pretending, I-"

Before he could finish, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. You grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to meet your lips in a searing kiss. Spencer let out a soft, startled sound, his hands instinctively coming up to rest on your hips.

He kissed you back with more intensity than you'd ever expected from him. His lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a hunger that had clearly been building for a long time.

You could feel his heart racing as your bodies pressed together, his hands gripping your waist like he was afraid you might disappear.

The thrill of it all-the secrecy, the risk of being caught-only made everything more electric. Spencer's usually shy demeanor made the way he kissed you, the way he held you, all the more thrilling. His hands were gentle but eager, roaming over your back as he deepened the kiss, his breath coming in quick, ragged gasps.

He pulled back just long enough to look at you, his face flushed, his glasses slightly askew. "I-l've wanted this for so long," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't know how to tell you..."

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "I've wanted it too, Spencer," you murmured, your voice low and seductive.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again as the kiss grew more passionate, more heated. His hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

The thrill of being in an office, the possibility of someone walking in at any moment, only heightened the intensity of the moment. Every touch, every kiss felt more dangerous, more forbidden.

Spencer's normally shy and awkward nature only made it more exciting-the way he hesitated for a second before touching you, the way his breath hitched whenever you made a sound.

It was everything you'd both wanted, everything you'd both been too scared to admit. And now that it was happening, neither of you could stop.

The world outside ceased to exist as the heat between you built to a fever pitch, the only sound in the room the soft moans and gasps of your shared desire.

Spencer might have been the genius, the shy, nerdy guy with the glasses, but right now, he was everything you wanted — and more.

[peachesofteal]

Combat Baby

Dead Disco Masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.7k words 18+ Minors DNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Feelings of fear, sadness and anxiety. Discussions of blood and injury. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals. Comfort and fluff. Angst. Established throuple. You get a phone call in the middle of the night. This takes place sometime before Chapter 1 of Dead Disco. It can be read as a standalone.

It’s the middle of the night when the phone rings. It vibrates against the nightstand, the rattle slowly bringing you to consciousness and you blink a few times to shake free the fog of sleep. 

The screen displays a blocked number. 

Your stomach becomes a pit. 

“Hello?” A British man says your name on the other line, the accent different from Simon’s, but still heavy, still thick. You don’t recognize it, and that lone fact has you sitting straight up. 

“Yes?” 

“This is Captain Price. I’m the commanding officer of the 141 and on scene at St George’s hospital.” Your body jolts, heart stopping dead in your chest. Oh no, god no please. Don’t let them be dead, don’t- “Ma’am?”

“I-I’m here.” You half swallow the words to try to prevent the panic from spilling out of your mouth. 

“Soap asked me to call ya, see if you could come down here.” 

“What’s going on? Is he okay? Where’s Si-“ 

“I can’t tell you anything else, just that he wants you to come down.” Your fingers fly onto a web browser to look up the hospital, a tiny sliver of relief twisting in your gut when you see it’s not incredibly far away. Not close, but doable with a few trains. The sleep that has been trying to spring free has completely evaporated, leaving your eyes wide and pulse racing, fear rapidly spreading through your veins while your mind conjures every single worst case scenario it could come up with. “Okay?” The captain’s voice is gentler now, encouraging, and you nod in the dark. 

“Okay… y-yeah. I’m on my way.” 

The hospital is bright. When you run through the lobby doors, it’s the first thing you notice. The walls are white, too white, and well lit, illuminating everything, every person in the giant room. You search their faces hurriedly, throat tight with worry while you decide that none of them are Johnny or Simon, and you practically throw yourself at the front desk. 

“Hi, uh, I’m looking. I’m looking for my partner? He’s-“ A British accent calls your name and you whirl to see a man in uniform standing behind you, his hand waving the receptionist off and gesturing for you to follow him through a set of double doors. 

“I’m Captain Price, we spoke on the phone.” Of course. 

“Yeah, where’s Johnny? And Simon?” You blow past his pleasantries because you honestly don’t care. You want to see your guys. You want to know what’s going on, and you want to know right now. The captain considers you thoughtfully for a moment, a short second that feels like an hour, before another set of doors is banging open to reveal- 

“Darling.” It’s Johnny. Johnny’s here. Johnny’s standing a few feet in front of you with his arms open. Johnny’s wearing his uniform that has a giant stain on the front. Johnny’s wearing his uniform that has a giant red stain on the front. 

You launch yourself into him without a second through, without a care about anyone watching, and press your face into his neck to take a deep breath. 

“Are you okay? Where is Si? Is he okay?” You babble, pulling away to get a better look at his face. He looks exhausted, and weary, and sad and you want to fold him into you again and never let go. Johnny is strong, he’s so strong even when he doesn’t want to be and right now, you can tell, he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be in command, doesn’t want to hold everything up. Guilt burns into your brain when you realize it’s for you, the strength is for you, even though he’s off balance, off kilter, he’s holding it together in this moment for you. “Johnny.” It’s a whisper, soft and raw, and he brings you back into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around your body and holding you to him while he presses his nose into your hair, shuddering a barely contained exhale. You hold him back, desperate to wrap your arms around him, stroking a hand up and down his spine slowly while you take deep, measured breaths. You bite your tongue against the overflowing bounty of questions you have, pausing to just be here, in his arms, his face buried in your neck. You try not to push him, try not to force it out of him. He’ll tell you, you know he will. He speaks every love language that exists between the three of you, communicates clearly when your head is a mess and your thoughts are all jumbled, sees you when you’re lost and pulls you back to shore. He makes Simon tea at one in the morning when he can’t sleep, he forces you to put your sneakers on and then pushes you out the door in the middle of the day so you can enjoy the sunshine. He gives you more than you could ever give back, and this moment is a dark, glaring reminder of that fact. 

He pulls away, giving someone a nod, you assume the captain, and leads you over to where a group of chairs sit. 

“Where is he?” You haven’t let go of him, gripping on like he’s your lifeline, and he lowers you into a chair before sitting down in the one next to you. 

“He’s in surgery.” 

“Okay. Is he going to be okay?” 

“Love.” You slam your eyes shut. No no no. “The doctor thinks there is a good chance he’s completely fine, but it was a very serious…” he pauses, and you know it’s because he’s trying to choose the right words “injury, and he had to go into surgery right away. He wasn’t conscious.” 

“A good chance.” You repeat it and he nods. A good chance. You try to fight the emotion that wells up inside your heart, but it’s no use, and you’re choking out a sob within a second, Johnny nestling you back into him, palm rubbing up and down your back. 

“Shhh. Everything’s alright now. Ye know he’s a strong bastard.” You bob your head in a halfhearted nod, but it’s hard to keep yourself afloat when you think about Simon alone in an operating room, with “a good chance.” Your lungs suddenly feel tight, the air in the room becoming a flimsy, feeble thing you’re not even sure exists. A good chance. A good chance? That’s… a chance. A chance he will be okay. A chance he will live. Not a given. Not even the starting point, just a chance, a good- “Darling.” Johnny’s fingers pull your chin upwards, until he’s forcing you to look at him, a warm palm moving to cradle your face when he’s satisfied he’s got your full attention. “I need you here, with me. Stay with me.” He doesn’t need to say anything else; you know. You know what he’s asking. You know he’s coaxing you to stay present, to not go down a long dark path, to keep yourself with him, and not below the cresting waves of your own heart, your own brain. 

You swallow the saliva that’s building in the corner of your cheek and squeeze his hand. You can do it. You can do it for him. For Simon. For them. For all of you. 

“Hard to kill right? Like you’re always saying at home?” The whisper brings a glimpse of a smile to Johnny’s face. 

“Thas’ right, love.” 

You wait for a long time. Johnny holds you, and you alternate between rubbing his shoulders and clutching his hand, your anxiety turning you restless as you shift relentlessly in the uncomfortable chairs. He slowly starts to tell you what he can about what happened, how Simon got separated from the team he was with, how he ended up outnumbered in an impossible situation, how he fought like hell and won. He recounts how he heard Simon calling for him over the radio in a moment of desperation, a pure loss of control, a last-ditch effort to hear his voice, and vice versa. He tells you that Simon made him promise in the helicopter to call you, as soon as they landed, because he wanted to see your face before he went in for surgery. He knew you’d be scared if Kyle or Price was the one to wake you up, and he didn’t want that. 

“He was still… talking, in the helicopter. I didn’t think… he was in that bad of shape, on the way. I think he was bleeding. Internally. And that’s why he faded out when we got here.” You nod, tracing a pattern of dirt on Johnny’s forearm methodically, timing it’s ups and downs with your own breathing. “Everything changed so fast. I’m sorry I had Price call. There was paperwork and they needed it as soon as possible and I didn’t want to wait to get ya here, I didn’t do as he asked but I-“  His voice chokes to a stop abruptly, and there’s a tear, on his cheek. Just the hint of one, shining beneath the awful ceiling lights of the hospital and you press your lips to it, trying to keep them from trembling against his skin. 

“It’s okay, Johnny. It’s okay.” You’re about to tell him to forget it, that he didn’t let Simon down, that everything is alright, when a doctor in a white coat comes through the doors with a smile on her face, her long legs carrying her over to stand before the two of in a blink. 

She’s smiling. The chance was good. It’s good. He’s good. 

“Mr. Riley?” She says, and you choke on a surprised gasp before you look to Johnny with a raised eyebrow. Uh… what? He pats your thigh affectionately before nodding and pulling you to your feet alongside him. 

“Yes, is he okay?” He spits, over eager, anxious and rushed to hear whatever it is she has to say. He too, has no time for pleasantries. 

“Your husband is out of surgery and stable. He should make a full recovery. We’ll go over discharge instructions and he’ll be here for a few days until I’m comfortable with his progress on antibiotics but, he’s in good shape.” Your husband. You bury the word deep, covering it with a whole mountain of other thoughts before you dwell on it. They would have told you, right? They wouldn’t have gotten married without you, would they? On a mission? The notion makes you feel nauseas, and then the guilt swallows you whole. Get a fucking grip. Simon is hurt. 

“When can we see him?” You blurt. 

“He’s still in post op right now, but I can bring you to his room to wait for when he’s settled in, how does that sound? He’ll probably be asleep for a while, but you can be there while you wait for him to wake up.”  

“Yes, please. Thank you.” Johnny wraps an arm around your shoulder and presses his lips to your temple with a fierce intensity. “Thank you, so much.” She gives the two of you a smile before leading you down the hall, and Johnny holds you close to him the entire time. 

Simon’s okay. He’s going to be okay. 

He looks too big in the bed. His shoulders stretch the width of the mattress, his hospital gown not even snapped closed, just draped over his torso, covering the white bandages are wrapped around his ribs. You stroke the side of his cheek, fingers tracing along his jaw line gently, pushing some strands of dirty blonde hair from his face while you whisper lowly. 

“We’re here, Si. We’re right here. Everything’s okay.” You’ve been trying not to watch the clock, trying not to count the minutes, over eager and impatient for Simon to wake up and finally open his eyes. You want to see him, blinking, breathing, speaking, before you finally feel at peace, and you can’t stand to see him unconscious, immobile, in a bed. He’d hate it. You know it, you know he’d hate it if he was awake, know he’s going to hate it, when he does wake, and you’re anxious to soothe him, even in his sleep. Anxious to lay your ear against his heart and count the heavy thumps of the muscle, eager to wrap yourself around him so he knows you’re here. You’re anxious to see his wry smile, see the flutter of his lashes, hear his voice. He’s so beautiful, so… unearthly to you that sometimes when you look at him you think you might be in a dream yourself. He’s your rock, your immovable force that never falters, never fails you, or Johnny. Holds you both steady. He looks so peaceful, so serene in this moment, even though you know in his mind, it’s far from the reality, and you hope he’s not dreaming in hell, experiencing his nightmares trapped in sedation. We’re here, I’m here. It’s okay. 

On the other hand, you’re not eager to wake Johnny, who’s asleep in the chair opposite you, Simon’s hand clutched in his, his head sideways on the bed next to Simon’s thigh, mouth open with a slow drip of drool pooling from it. He’s exhausted. Hasn’t sleep in 29 hours and he stayed awake for four hours after Simon was brought back to the room, trying for as long as he could until he just couldn’t keep his head up anymore. He needs rest. Your heart flutters when you look at him, the scruff of his mohawk laying against the white blanket wrapped around Simon’s leg, his features blank as he drifts in a dreamworld far away. He’s so sweet, so perfect that it makes your heart hurt, like someone’s emptied ice into your chest cavity and you can’t help but reach across and stroke a thumb across his knuckles in time with your other against Simon’s cheek. 

An hour later, Simon’s hand spasms, and you watch his eyelids start to twitch, body tensing in the bed as both you and Johnny jump to your feet so you can see his face. 

“Simon? Hey.” You stroke your fingers along the inside of his palm gently, trying to ease him into consciousness, while Johnny hovers closer, knuckles white against the rail, his free hand on Si’s shoulder, the touch gentle and reassuring. Simon slurs your name, then Johnny’s, then Johnny’s again before groaning: 

“Darling.”

“We’re here.” You rush out, the swell of your emotions rising up the back of your throat while you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand. “Right here.” 

“Are you in pain?” Johnny asks, but he’s already pushed the button, and you both step back when the nurse comes in so she can give him pain meds and check the monitors. When she’s finished, the two of you surge forward, retaking your places and you finally get to see that crescent moon smile on his lips, the ghost of his happiness surfacing from beneath everything else going on, the pain, the trauma, the sedation. 

“You’re here.” He whispers, eyes moving between the two of you. Johnny lowers himself to touch his forehead to Simon’s, before tracing the lightest kiss across his lips. 

“Of course, we are, ya mad bastard. Don’t ever fuckin’ do that again.” He says and Simon grunts, hand shooting out to grab his with a squeeze while his other palm presses to your cheek. You hold it there with one of your own hands, tears dripping from your eyes while his thumb strokes back and forth across your skin. 

“’m sorry I scared ya.” He grits out and you break into a soft, relieved smile. 

“Don’t be. We’re just so happy you’re okay.” 

 “I’m alright, darling. Can’t be leavin’ you two alone anytime soon.” His eyes droop, lids trying to shut and you know the pain medicine is pulling him back under, where he can sleep and heal until it’s time to wake again. He fights it, but it’s a losing battle. 

“It’s alright, Si.” You soothe him. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be here while you rest.”

“Y’promise?” He sounds a little spacey, a little loopy, and Johnny smiles while you stroke his hair in a rhythmic pattern, just how he likes at home. 

“We promise.” 

[darkshelbyfiction]

The Nanny Diaries (Part 4)

Pairing: Dark Cillian Murphy x Innocent Reader

Warning: Dubious Consent, Smut

The morning following your encounter with Cillian, you found yourself lost in thought, reflecting on the gravity of the situation. Your guilt, shame, and confusion swirled together, filling you with turmoil. How could things escalate so rapidly?

While Lorna was away shopping for groceries and with the Murphy children in care, it was only you and Cillian at home when you woke up the next morning, sore and red from the previous night's encounters. It seemed as though the world around you flickered and shifted, becoming surreal, clouded by foggy memories of what had transpired. 

Knowing full well that you would be on your own with him again, you nervously walked downstairs around the spacious kitchen trying desperately to quell the fear growing steadily within you.

"Good Morning Y/N, did you sleep well?" Asked Cillian, pouring himself a cup of coffee while watching you intently. His piercing gaze sent waves of unease coursing through your veins, sending your pulse racing wildly beneath your skin.

Trying valiantly to disguise your discomfort, you managed a weak smile, replying nervously, "I think so." 

He returned your feeble gesture with a subtle smirk, savoring the taste of his brew.

"Are you sore?" he inquired mischievously, looking straight into your eyes, invading your personal space without remorse. Unable to suppress a wave of panic, you couldn't help but notice the intensity of his stare, which seemed to probe deeply into your soul. 

Swallowing hastily, you glanced downwards momentarily before answering. "Not anymore..." you lied, attempting to hide any visible signs of discomfort.

"That's surprising, considering how much time I spent inside you last night," he said smoothly, sipping his coffee and fixing his intense gaze on you once more.

Anxiousness rose sharply within you as his perceptive nature penetrated your carefully constructed façade. To break free from his scrutiny, you reached for a cupboard, pretending to search for something to eat.

"You took me really well," he added playfully, making no attempt to mask his intentions. This remark caused another surge of panic to rise within you, leaving you struggling to maintain composure. 

"And even let me cum inside you, which means that, today, you are probably still leaking my seed," he continued boldly, gesturing towards your lower region before approaching you with a wicked grin spread across his face.

"I will need to get the morning after pill, Cillian," you blurted out suddenly, your voice laced with apprehension.

"That's probably a good idea but, maybe before you do, I can fill you up some more?" suggested Cillian suggestively, moving closer to you while taking your hand and leading you towards the dining room table.

"I am...uhm...," you stammered, protesting weakly/ "We shouldn't do this," you argued feebly, unable to stand your ground in the face of his undeniably attractive demeanon.

"We already did it Y/N. My cock has already been inside you last night," Cillian said persuasively, leaning forward and brushing a lock of hair behind your ear seductively. Intrigued yet anxious, you found yourself helpless against his alluring charm. He noticed your hesitation and decided to seize the opportunity further. "Think about it…you want to take the morning after pill anyway. So why don't we make it worth it?" he proposed smoothly before spinning you around to place you firmly against the table. The musky scent of desire hung thick in the air as Cillian's large palms traced down your clothed back.

"Bend over," commanded Cillian sternly, pushing you firmly onto the wooden surface of the dinner table. His authoritative tone left little doubt as to what would happen next. 

With unwavering determination, he pulled down your PJ pants, exposing your tender flesh to his hungry gaze. Feeling vulnerable and powerless, you struggled to suppress a whimper as he approached you. 

"Look at you, legs spread and ready for my cock. That's my girl," Cillian murmured approvingly, admiring your exposed form, letting his eyes roam across your silhouette before closing the distance between you two. Reaching downward, he gripped your ass possessively, claiming ownership over your body as he brought you flush against his rigid frame. 

"Your pussy is still quite swollen and red from last night, isn't it?", he taunted knowingly, evoking a shiver of dread deep within you. Surrounded by walls of temptation, resisting became increasingly difficult.

Desperate for release, you allowed him access to your core, giving way to primal instincts as they took control. Bracing yourself on the table, Cillian pushed down his boxer shorts and positioned himself at your entrance.

"So, you might feel a little sore since your opening hasn't yet entirely healed from our earlier session," he observed coolly, rubbing his thumb along your sensitive area.

Feeling self-conscious and embarrassed, you winced reflexively upon contact, but Cillian merely chuckled at your reaction.

"Let go of your inhibitions, Y/N. Remember how much pleasure I gave you," he whispered reassuringly, seeking entry with his rigid manhood. Clenching your teeth tightly, you tried to muster up enough courage to relax your muscles. Fear and uncertainty plagued your heart, yet you wanted nothing more than to satisfy Cillian's needs.

As his hardness probed deeper, you gritted your teeth, tensing involuntarily despite his gentle encouragement. Unperturbed, Cillian persisted, nudging you slowly and rhythmically until you began to adjust to the invasion.

"Relax, sweetheart. Let me show you just how amazing it can be when someone truly knows what they're doing," he urged softly, allowing his fingers to slide along your clitoris, eliciting a trembling response from your body.

As the warmth between your thighs intensified, so too did the fervor in Cillian's movements. Tightening his grasp on your hips, he delved deeper and faster, drawing cries of ecstasy from your lips.

Growing accustomed to his forceful thrusts, you surrendered fully to the euphoria coursing through your veins, embracing each rippling wave of delight with open arms.

The kitchen echoed with your gasps and moans, serving as a soundtrack to your mutually satisfying exploration. The weight of his body pressing against yours exacerbated the physical bond between you both, enhancing the connection beyond mere words. Lost in the throes of passion, there was no time nor reason to dwell on the consequences of this illicit affair.

As you neared the peak of your climax, Cillian wrapped one arm around your waist, anchoring you securely while his other hand teased your nipples expertly. The sensual assault on your senses proved almost impossible to ignore.

Arching your back slightly, you cried out loudly, your entire body convulsing with the most powerful orgasm you had ever experienced. 

"Oh God! Oh my god!" You uttered breathlessly, feeling your insides contract incessantly as waves of ecstasy consumed you completely.

"Good girl. Keep taking it like that. Just think of me buried deep inside you. Yes, right there, baby. Can you feel it?" Cillian praised you amidst your lustful trance, stroking your cheek lovingly. As if hypnotized, you nodded absentmindedly, allowing him complete control over your body. Every movement, every touch, every word served to heighten the fierce arousal consuming you whole.

"I am going to fill you up now. Take me deep inside you, okay?" Cillian asked softly, holding your gaze with an unmistakable confidence. Your head dipped in submission, acquiescing to his demand, a blush creeping across your complexion. With swift precision, he thrusted back into you deeply, pushing himself up against your cervical opening. 

It hurt like hell, but you bit your lip, enduring the pain bravely.

"Fuck. Here it comes," Cillian groaned, erupting hotly within you, causing a small cry to escape your lips.

His seed flowed freely into your waiting depths, triggering a mix of relief and satisfaction that swept through your system.

As he pulled out and stepped back, you felt a familiar twinge emanating from your aching passage and, before you had a chance to stand up, Cillian dipped his finger into your raw hole.

He then spread his cum all over dripping entrance and said "good girl, you did well," before running his cum soaked finger over your rear entrance. 

"What are you doing?" you breathed uneasily, stunned by his actions as, slowly, his digit penetrated your anus opening.

Gasping audibly due to the unexpected stimulation, you fought valiantly to regain your composure as Cillian began circling his finger menacingly before gathering more of his cum from your sore pussy before pushing it into your anus.

Shame and guilt threatened to consume you, but his assertiveness quelled those feelings as his fingers continued to probe your newly opened orifice.

Cillian smiled smugly, reveling in his dominance over you. "Don't worry, it won't hurt anymore once I'm done stretching you out," he assured, attempting to ease your discomfort. However, hearing these words only managed to evoke more anxiety rather than alleviate it. Still, you remained steadfast under his guidance, allowing him to push boundaries previously untouched. 

Having grown somewhat numb to the initial intrusion, you submitted passively to Cillian's ministrations, accepting his authority without resistance.

Gently massaging your tender entrance, he sought to comfort you, whispering tenderly, "Just let go, sweetheart. It will get better soon." Though the prospect seemed farfetched, your trust in Cillian convinced you otherwise.

In an attempt to distract you from the burning sensation, Cillian moved lower and began to play with your breasts, rolling and pinching the soft mounds skillfully. Drawing circles around your nipples with his tongue, he alternately teased and kissed your supple skin, sending electric shockwaves through your body.

"Your ass feels so good, so tight," he marveled, unable to contain his excitement, by which point you could feel his cock becoming erect again, pressing against your thigh.

"You have such a beautiful body," he complimented sincerely, leaning forward to plant a light kiss on your back. He knew exactly where to strike to make you weak in the knees. Glancing down, your face flushed with anticipation as he caressed your shoulders intimately.

"Why do you bother trying to fight it? We both know that this attraction is undeniable. Embrace it."

Staring blankly into space, your thoughts tangled in confusion and tears welled up in your eyes as Cillian pulled out his finger and wiped off any remaining residue onto his shirt.

"Do you think you can take my cock again tonight, sweetheart?" He posed with a seductive grin, invading your mental turmoil.

Swallowing nervously, you nodded hesitantly, unsure whether you were agreeing to continue their sexual escapades or simply succumbing to Cillian's relentless charm. But regardless of your true intentions, he appeared satisfied, asserting his dominance once more over your life.

[superblysubpar]

1304 words

warnings: SMUT (unprotected PIV intercourse - cumming on reader’s stomach, blindfold on reader and descriptions of missing the sense of sight, ass slapping) | my blog is 18+

The prompts: [comfort] - a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance // [BLINDFOLD] - my muse makes your muse wear a blindfold 

Requested by @tomtomslongdong - thank you very much for constantly supporting all my nonsense, your comments and reblogs truly fuel me 💛 and thank you @rebelfell for finding my banner picture and encouraging procrastination

All you could see was darkness. A sliver of light would slip in occasionally, but it gave you no hints and you were blind to what would be next - making every sound, smell, and touch dialed up to a level that made your skin buzz and toes curl. 

The room smelled like him. Incense that had a faint hint of cherry, but that overwhelming earthy scent. It mixed easily with his cologne surrounding you, spice and cedar, that pulsed off of him with each erratic heartbeat and forceful thrust. Slick skin slipping together and your arousal coating him, sticky between your thighs. 

Maybe the room just smelled like sex. 

It certainly sounded like it. There was the faintest scratch of a radio playing, the hum of a fan that did nothing to cool you off, the sounds of the city floating in through the open window - sirens and stereos, bar goers and car horns. None of it could cover up the heavy breaths that left him, the whines that slipped past your lips, nor the sound of his thighs slapping against yours, the smack of his hand over the curve of your ass. 

That one made your fingers search for something to grab, cool gray sheets curled in your fingertips as your mouth parted in a silent gasp. Eddie’s fingers soothed over the plush skin and your breath stuttered as you suddenly felt his teeth bite you, palm pressing into your lower back as you clenched around him. 

Eddie straightened again, relishing in the way your hips squirmed, the way your cheek pressed to the mattress. His palms cupped your ass, spreading you so he could watch the way he sunk into you and the way your pussy tried to keep him inside with each thrust. He was drunk off of the way you coated him, the way your chin trembled when he pulled out of you and stopped when you were on the edge of cumming again. 

His breath was coming uneven, chest moving up and down rapidly as he tried to cool off. He bit down on his cheek and swiped a hand through his curls, hot despite the new haircut. He swallowed, almost biting his tongue as your knees pushed out further, back arching in a way that made a curse sit ready on his tongue, barely keeping it from falling out of him as you pressed your nose into the sheets, a frown pulling your lips down as you waited for more. 

“Eddie,” his name left you in a pitiful plea. 

You could hear him, breathing heavily, feel the space between his thighs and the back of yours like it was on fire - he was so close but making you wait again. 

“Aw, no more Teddy?” He let one finger drag up your skin from the bend of your knee and he smiled as you shivered, mouth parting before you bit your lip down on a choked sound. 

“It-it was a compliment,” you stretched your limbs, trying to push back against him and he smiled, leaning away as you huffed, stumbling over what you wanted to say, “I didn’t say you couldn’t…you’re tough. I-”

Words cut off as your body flipped quickly, your back pressed to the mattress and your ears felt like they were filled with cotton, the sounds of the world slipping away as the thundering of your heart took over. You waited, hands in the air like they could feel him, knees bent and feet pressed to the mattress as you tried to catch your breath. 

The sensation of his lips on your clit made you jolt up, his hands faster, pushing your hips down as yours found his hair, fingers dragging through his curls making him groan and you sigh with the feeling of finally touching him. He pressed another kiss there, trying to reassure and tease in the same gesture, nose tapping it as he huffed, grumbling, “I fuck. Eddie Munson fucks.”

He crawled up you slowly, kissing at the fold of thigh meeting hips, at the curve of your stomach, his fingers digging into your sides, scratching down your ribs. “Would a soft, comforting, warm guy do you like I am tonight? Huh?”

Each press of his plush lips to your body were little shocks, unsure of where they’d land next until you felt the familiar scratch of his jaw, the hot breath against your skin before they kissed and left goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed from his hair, down his shoulders, arms, tracing over the curves of muscles and veins you couldn’t see until you found his hands. You laced your fingers with his as you felt his breath between your breasts, felt him nudging at your entrance. 

Eddie’s tongue licked over your pulse point on your throat as he thrust inside of you again, teeth tugging at the skin as you arched underneath him. Your hands tried to hold onto his, but he let go, grabbing at your thighs and wrapping them around his waist as he pounded into you. 

Watching the way your neck extended, his black bandana still snug over your eyes, hands returning to the bed and gripping the sheets had him looking at the ceiling, telling himself he couldn’t cum yet. The sounds leaving your lips were sinful, whimpered little uh’s and yeah’s as he rolled his hips, encouraging his fingers to travel down and press figure eight’s to your clit. Each thrust in and drag out of you a pornographic wet sound. He closed his eyes, listening to the way you gasped, you swore, the way you said his name. 

When he opened them, his bandana was pushed onto your forehead, off of your eyes, which were big and round, blinking at him as you pulled on his neck, making him bend lower to meet you. You were done following the rules it seemed. 

Your lips pressed to his, slotting together in a slow kiss that didn’t match the pace of his hips. It made his stomach burn, the way your fingers cupped his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek soothingly as you let him go. His eyes fluttered open, his hips faltering as you arched, your eyes still closed as you spoke into his lips. 

“Need you to cum,” he moaned as your cunt clenched around him, as you hiccuped out a quiet, 

“Teddy.”

He hated what it did to him, the way something in his brain lit up, the way you said it, the way his entire body felt warm from it. Eddie kissed you harder, pulling out of you and releasing on your stomach without warning as your mouth parted over his, letting out breathless babbles of praise from your own release, letting your back return to the bed with a gasp as he pressed more frantic circles into your clit, waiting until your thighs were shaking and you were shaking your head.  

His hands pressed to the mattress, yours still clasped together around his neck. His chest heaving over you, your body flushed and sweat kissed, one hand fell, fingers pressed to your mouth as you hid your smile. He swallowed, watching your eyes flutter open as you returned from the rush of your orgasm. 

It was almost silent, the two of you staring at each other, letting your panting mix with the radio’s crackle, the hum of the fan, and the sounds of the city. Eddie started to shake his head as you started to giggle. 

He caught your moving mouth with his, licking over your tongue in a bruising kiss until your hand was on his jaw and you were sighing, relaxing into it. He pulled away, brows furrowed together, his cheeks turning pink as you bit your lip and blinked up at him. 

“I’m not a teddy bear.”

[hier--soir]

under the night | five

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ only, minors dni] language, plenty of angst, violence, nightmares, Lincoln [lmao], abduction, alcohol consumption. word count: 6.1k part four | series masterlist | main masterlist

Within a fortnight, two more women were missing. The people in Jackson were on high alert. Wary-eyed warnings were whispered around the settlement. People went to work and they went home, day after day. By the time the sun had gone down, doors were locked, and windows latched. Movement on the streets at night was minimal, and wherever people went, they went in groups. Women walked through the town with linked arms and set jaws, eyes darting around rapidly.

As soon as things escalated, the settlement leaders established search patrol groups. All patrolmen would participate in one of two daily searches. Morning and night, a group would go out the gates, hoping to discover a trace of the women. A sign of anything. But Winter persevered, and the cruel snow proved difficult to heed any clues as to where they could have gone – if they’d even left the settlement. It seemed impossible, that anyone would have been able to creep out that tall gate.

A stream of patrolmen wandered in and out of the stables, where you would help to organise horses for the search. You interacted with more people on daily basis than you ever had in Jackson. Often, groups of ten or more would disappear out the gates at a time, and you’d be left with empty stables, mucking stalls and waiting for your horses to return.

The search roster was posted outside the community dining hall every Sunday night, and every time you wandered past it, your eyes would scan the list for his name. Joel and Tommy, Joel and Tommy, Joel and Tommy, Joel and Tommy, every fucking day. And it wasn’t just them. From almost every house, one person had been called upon to participate. If they were competent, able, and willing, they were recruited. 

You didn’t envy Tommy Miller one bit on the day he suggested you join the effort.

It was a few days after Rebecca Lewis went missing, and you were hard at work in the stables, prepping horses for the evening patrol, when you overheard them.

Your ears perked up in recognition of Joel’s muffled voice, hands stilling on Dot’s saddle. The hearing on your left side was still repairing itself, and a faint buzzing enveloped you in moments of quiet. But you’d recognise his voice anywhere, and you strained to make out the words. “Tommy,” he’d said in a low, warning tone. “You better back off. Now.”

“Joel,” the younger man sighed in frustration. The type of sigh someone did after already pleading their case for the entirety of, what you assumed to be, a lengthy conversation. “It makes sense. Just ‘cause you don’t like it, don’t make it untrue.”

“She almost fuckin’ died,” he snapped in response, voice clearer now; closer. “Last time we took her out there, she almost got her head beaten off. Or don’t you fuckin’ remember? Too preoccupied by the idea of having a new soldier in your makeshift army?” 

You ducked down, pulse quickening as you realised the brothers were talking about you. Their footsteps were audible, shuffling around in the gravel as they hung up equipment and ushered the horses into their stalls.

“Watch it,” Tommy ground out. “I was there, don’t you forget. And she held her own, god damnit. She knows how to read the land; how to hunt, how to track. You’re just too fuckin’ scared to risk her.”

“YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT I AM,” Joel boomed suddenly, and the hairs on your arms raised at the change in volume. “I’m fuckin’ terrified. She still can’t fuckin’ hear right, and you want her out there again? For what? So that she can die too? Fat chance, because I’d sooner go out on a patrol every day for the rest of my damn life, then let you send her outside those gates again.”

Silence descended upon the stables, the only audible sound that of his harsh breathing.

After a moment, Tommy said something, but it was too quiet to hear. You strained your right ear, leaning precariously against the wall in an attempt to stay hidden.

“Of course I do,” Joel replied, his voice softening, and you hungered desperately to piece together what you’d missed.

“I’m not tryin’ to hurt you, Joel,” Tommy said calmly. “But I’m goin’ to ask her.”

“And she’ll say yes,” Joel laughed mirthlessly. “She will, Tommy. So go, fucking ask her, but I swear to god she’s not goin’ out of those gates without me by her side.”

They shared a few more soft words, and you grit your teeth in frustration, wishing they would speak up for your benefit. But they’d finished packing up, and you waited with a frown as they departed the stables, leaving you alone in Dot’s stall.

It hadn’t been a hard decision to make. When Tommy approached you the next day, you’d said no, clean and simple. Not purely for Joel’s benefit, either. It warmed your heart to know that he listened to you; he knew it wasn’t his place to make the decision for you. But the truth of the matter was that he was right. You were terrified to go outside the gates, and so you’d never turned down an offer so quickly.

So you and Joel operated on separate schedules, but it set you both at ease to know that you would be staying in Jackson. For those few weeks, you saw him sparingly. Between time spent at the stables, and the daily searches, the pair of you passed like ships in the night.

When you did find yourselves alone, Joel would pull you in close and his hands would roam freely across your body, eager to feel you against him.

“I missed you,” he’d whisper forlornly, pressing desperate kisses into your skin.

“It’s only been a couple of days,” you’d smile, and soon enough all words would escape you as his hands slipped beneath your clothes.

“You’re supposed to say you missed me too,” he’d grunt, and you’d laugh, watching him kiss down your stomach, trailing his fingers along the hem of your pants, before you would relent and breathlessly admit you felt the same way. 

One night you’d waited at his place for him while he was on the evening patrol, and he’d returned a nervous wreck. He’d paced the hardwood floors of his bedroom, ringing his hands together in front of him, muttering about how they still hadn’t found anything.

“There’s no fuckin’ sign of them,” he’d told her. “And even if there was, how would we find it through all that fuckin’ snow. We’re searching day in and day out, and it’s fuckin’ hopeless.”

“Joel,” you tried to soothe him, although your own chest ached with anxiety. “I’m sure something will come up.” It was easier for you to lie in the moment, than pile your cynicisms atop his.

“This place is supposed to be fuckin’ safe. And now suddenly women are disappearing out of thin fuckin’ air?” His boots thudded heavily on the ground, leaving scuff marks and dirt on the wood. Scratching his beard in frustration, he turned to look at you with sorrowful eyes. “I told you it was safe here, that you were safe here, and now,” he paused, gritting his teeth. “Now I don’t even know if that’s true.”

“We don’t even know what happened to them,” you offered. “Maybe they decided to leave.”

But he wouldn’t hear reason, and fell heavily onto the edge of the bed. Joel looked up at you and shook his head slowly. “I need you to be careful. You and Ellie, I can’t… if something happened to one of you,” he cut himself off, hands shaking in his lap. His fingers traced his palms, squeezing every now and then, keeping himself focused,  present.

“Hey,” you whispered, stepping forward and placing a hand over his. His movements stilled instantly, and his wide brown eyes gazed into yours. It felt like everything in the world stopped when those eyes were on you. “I’m always careful. No one’s gonna get the drop on me, I’m a big girl.”

“Darlin’,” he breathed. “I know you’re strong, stronger than half the people in this town. And I know you’re safe with Cal. But if he’s not around, you gotta stay here, with Ellie. Don’t be alone. I need to know you’re somewhere safe when I’m out there. And I-“

“Okay, Joel,” you acquiesced, nodding. You cupped his check in your palm, thumb stroking through his coarse facial hair. “I hear you, I will.”

After what seemed like weeks of self-imposed curfews and endless patrols with no new information turning up, things began to naturally return to normalcy in Jackson. Although the searches persisted, with no new disappearances the sense of fear had begun to settle.

So much so, that when a few of the women at the stables invited you for a drink after work one afternoon, you said yes.

The Tipsy Bison was humid and the walls reeked of history. Picture frames littered the walls, showing faces of people and families who’d lived in Jackson over the years. A framed image of Seth, the bartender, with two of his sons was hung by the bar, displaying the three men with broad grins on their faces. A fire roared in the corner, and small tables were scattered throughout the hall, chairs sprawled around them housing groups of friends chatting and drinking. It was a picture of regularity, and if you squinted, it almost looked as easy as it had beforehand; before the disappearances. But looking closer, a tension lived in people’s eyes; a distinct uncertainty that reared its ugly head when someone unfamiliar approached their table. 

You couldn’t help but feel out of place with the two women. Cath and Louise were kind, and welcoming. They openly shared stories about their lives, and their families. Smiles and laughter seemed to come easy to the pair. With soft, feminine features and long hair, you were sure you stood out like a sore thumb between the pair. All sharp angles, rough edges, and scars, you tried to shake away feelings of inferiority. Alcohol helped. It brought a warm buzz to your body, and lowered your hackles somewhat. When they asked questions about you, you found yourself sharing with more and more ease. You divulged tales about the small settlement in Washington where you and Cal lived as teenagers; about his older brothers who had felt like your own.

You steered clear of sharing that the settlement ended up being raided. That the people of Spokane were slaughtered, their houses looted and burnt to the ground, and that the pair of you barely escaped with your lives, dragged out of the gates and into the wilderness by Cal’s brother Paul. For a year it had been the three of you, working as a tight knit unit to survive. You and Cal were still young, and naïve to the harsh realities of life outside settlement gates. When Paul was bitten, that all changed. You were forced to harden, to face the reality you were forced into, and survive. The decade after you lost Paul had stretched on aimlessly; two nomads wandering the states, with no goal in sight except for survival – until you stumbled across Jackson.

After an hour, a tipsy buzz had taken over your senses, and you found yourself slouched in your chair, laughing naturally with the women as they joked and gossiped about their partners, and other people in town. And only when Joel Miller walked into the room,  did your attention stray.

A delightfully tipsy buzz held you captive by the time you noticed Joel enter the room. The conversation turned to white noise in your ears as you watched him approach the bar. Those old jeans fit him so well, and he wore that brown jacket that showed off how broad his shoulders were. Your mouth was dry suddenly, and you excused yourself from the table, before heading towards him.

You sauntered up on his left and rested your elbows on the bar. “Hey cowboy.”

Joel’s head ticked to the side and a smile formed on his lips. “Howdy.”

He reached out to run his index finger along your forearm, so light you almost didn’t feel it. The small show of affection made you smile, and you shivered.

“How’re Cath and Louise?” he nodded over your shoulder towards the table you’d been sat at.

“They’re good,” you hummed, licking your bottom lip. “Chatty.”

“Chatty is good,” he agreed unconvincingly, and you exhaled a quiet laugh. As his eyes scanned over your face, taking in your demeanour and the way you leaned heavily against the bar top, his grin widened a touch. “You’re drunk.”

You scoffed, eyes widening in defence. “Says who?”

“Says me, drunky,” he bumped his hip against yours softly, and the giggle that fell out of your mouth would’ve embarrassed you in any other moment.

As the barman approached, Joel’s hand fell back and you cleared your throat, attempting to act natural.  

“Joel,” Seth nodded. “What’ll it be?”

“Glass of red.”

As Seth served you your wine, you gave Joel a teasing smile. “Are we sharing?”

He chuckled, “All yours, darlin’. I’m just here to pick up Tommy before we head out.” A pout formed on your lips without your permission.

“Tonight will be fine,” he smirked at you. “Good crew, too. Bet there’ll be more shit talkin’ than actual patrollin’.”

“Wow, very professional,” you nodded into your glass. When Seth had disappeared down the other end of the bar, you slid your hand over Joel’s and ran your fingers over his wrist, trailing towards his forearm. The alcohol had brought a warmth to your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time, and all you longed for was to feel his skin underneath yours. To lead him out of the bar and get him into bed.

“Handsy,” he murmured lowly, stepping closer to you, so the warmth of his side pressed into yours.

“Joel Miller,” you drawled, leaning in to place your lips against his ear. “I want you to blow off patrol and come home with me.”

A strangled noise left his mouth, and one of his hands gripped your waist suddenly, thumb pushing into the flesh above your hipbone. Your hand continued its movements, trailing over his watch in the direction of his bicep.

But before your hand could get far, a jarring pain appeared in your finger. Hissing, you pulled back instinctively, holding your hand up to get a better look.

“What’s wrong?” he soothed quietly, eyebrows drawn tight in concern. His hand hovered over your wrist anxiously, but he didn’t actually touch you, wary of causing more pain.

“I cut my finger,” you frowned, glancing down at his wrist. The wrinkle between your brows only deepened as you took in the sight of his watch, the one he wore every day, and found that the glass was splintered and cracked. A small shard had gotten caught in your fingertip, and you plucked it out gently. “Your watch is broken.”

Joel’s face went blank, and you both stared at it for a moment.

“What happened?” you were alert suddenly, the fog in your head clearing as you wondered if something had happened on his patrol the day before.

“Nothin’ happened,” he murmured, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Been broken for a while now.”

“For how long? I never even noticed,” you muttered. “How did I never notice that?”

“It’s alright,” he shrugged, not quite meeting your eye.

“You wear a broken watch?” you asked carefully, after a moment’s hesitation.

“Sentimental value,” is all he said, taking the glass from your hand and stealing a small sip.

Your lips parted to push the matter further, but Tommy’s sudden appearance interrupted the conversation.

He patted Joel firmly on the back and offered you a tight smile. “Alright, old man, let’s get a move on.”

Joel’s eyes flashed apologetically as he handed the wine glass back to you. Leaning into the side of your head, his lips brushed the sensitive skin of your earlobe as he whispered, “Wait for me tonight, okay? I wanna come home and find you in my bed. Promise not to be too late.”

Heat flashed through your stomach, and you wet your lips eagerly, wishing you had the guts to kiss him there, in front of all those people. But he pushed away from the bar and gave you a meaningful stare, saying, “Walk home with Cath and Louise.” So you just replied with a quick nod before watching the brothers walk out the door.

Turning back, you let your eyes wander across the bar, attempting to read the labels on the bottles displayed. Before the outbreak you’d been too young to drink, only ever having tried wine once or twice. The fact that they’d managed to create their own liquor in the settlement never ceased to amaze you, and you were pleased to indulge every once in a while.

As much as you tried not to dwell, you were picturing Joel’s watch in your head.  Surely it hadn’t been broken this entire time? Wracking your brain, you tried to picture it without the large cracks running across the clockface, but you just couldn’t.

A voice came from behind you. “Your man off on patrol again tonight?”

You turned, eyebrows raised, to find Lincoln. “What was that?” 

“Joel,” he nodded his head toward the door. “He’s being going on all those patrols, the searches, right?”

When you didn’t say anything, he chuckled awkwardly and gave a faux shiver, his shoulders raising to his ears. “I could never,” he smiled. “Never was the big, brawny type like those Miller boys. Too scared.”

You gave a slow nod, sizing him up where he stood, small frame shrouded in a large winter jacket. “What can I do for you Lincoln?”

He sipped amber liquid out of a crystal glass and gave a meek shrug. “Thought you might be lonely up here. I so often see you wandering around by yourself.”

Your eyebrow arched once again, the pleasant tipsiness wearing off in his absence. “I’m fine, thanks though, Lincoln.”

“Linc,” he corrected. “Please.”

“I’m fine, Linc.” You couldn’t help the scowl that had fallen upon your face, the good mood Joel brought to your evening long forgotten since he had left.

“Of course,” he backed off, hands raised in the air. “My apologies, I shouldn’t assume things of a woman I don’t know.”

“Right,” you frowned, pushing away from the bar top. “I think I’m gonna go.”

Downing the last of your wine, you left the hall without saying goodbye to Cath and Louise.

From where you stood on the street, you could see the stables down the road, lanterns lighting up the barn for the patrolmen. You thought about going to find Joel; he’d probably still be saddling up, and you could say goodbye to him properly before they headed out. But you thought better of it, and decided going to sleep in his bed was good enough.

Ellie was still awake when you got there, lounging on the couch in a grey hoodie and loose shorts. You noticed a blanket and pillow folded up on the end of it, and wondered briefly what they were for.

“What do you think of tattoos?” was the first thing out of her mouth.

“Tattoos?” you stopped short, your wine soaked brain whirring trying to catch up to her train of thought. “I think they’re fine, why are you asking me about tattoos?”

“I’m thinking of getting one,” she said, not quite meeting your eye-line.

“Ohhhh,” you dragged out the vowel, trying to think of what a responsible adult would say. “Cool, how would you do that?”

“Cat does them,” Ellie said, her eyes lighting up when she realised you weren’t shutting down the idea. Her lips quirked up into a cheeky grin. “Uses a single needle, makes these insane pictures. She’s got loads of ‘em.”

“Cat, huh?” you raised an eyebrow, picking up on what she was subconsciously putting down.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you shrugged, eyes wide. “You guys are hanging out a lot these days.”

“We’re friends,” she said quickly – almost too quickly, tugging nervously on the drawstrings of her jumper. You backed off.

“Good,” you said, launching yourself onto the couch beside her, happy to get the weight off your feet. “Friends are good.”

“Like you would know,” she teased, digging an elbow into your side. You cringed, glaring at her.

“Fuck you, kid, I have plenty of friends.”

She raised her eyebrows, as if to say, oh yeah?

“You and I are friends,” you huffed quietly. Plucking curiously at the blanket beside you, you changing the subject, asking, “What’s this for?”

“I’ve been sleeping in here,” Ellie told you. “Joel’s been nervous about me being alone in the bungalow at night. If I sleep here he can see me when he gets home, and before he leaves in the morning.”

“That’s good of you,” you murmured earnestly. “Giving him some peace of mind.”

“Can’t have the old man dying of a fucking heart attack,” she joked. “With the way he worries, I wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped any day now.”

As you laid in Joel’s bed alone, the only sound in the house was of rain quietly pattering against the roof. Draped in one of his softest shirts, you curled the blankets around your body, enveloping yourself in his scent, and fell asleep wishing he was beside you.

---

“Your friend can’t help you,” he sneered. “It’s just you and me right now. You’re all mine.”

You squirmed beneath him, hips rearing upward to buck him off. But his knees were planted in the dirt beside you, an arm pinning your hands above your head, hand clamped over your mouth. Harsh, panicked exhales left your nose, and your eyes darted around, trying to see Cal. But it was dark, and his face was all you could make out.

Tears leaked out of your eyes, and he cooed down at you. “Don’t be afraid, this will only take a second.” You could hear someone saying your name, but he consumed your senses, muffling the sound. “Don’t listen to them, stay here with me. I’m gonna keep you here, forever.”

Your eyes snapped open as hands gripped the collar of your shirt, yanking you upward. Instinctively you grabbed the hands and hauled him off you, twisting so he was underneath you, pinned to the bed.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” the words slurred out of your mouth, tongue still heavy with sleep. You were seeing red, and you reached down to wrap your hands around his throat, but an urgent voice made you freeze.

“Fuck, fuck, it’s me, it’s me!” Ellie was shouting, face red as she stared up at you in panic.  

“Ellie,” your voice cracked. Clarity came rushing back to you, and you understood what had happened. Your hands hovered a centimetre above her neck, and her hands still gripped your shirt. Pushing yourself off her, you scrambled to the foot of the bed. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ellie. I didn’t know it was you, I swear, I-”

“It’s okay,” she panted, sitting up. She said your name so softly, so quietly, like you were a wounded animal she’d found in the forest, and if she made any sudden movements you’d get spooked and make a run for it. “I thought you were suffocating in your sleep or something, so I came in to check on you, I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Shaking your head slowly, you wiped your face hastily. “You don’t have to apologise to me,” you laughed bitterly. “I almost fucking strangled you.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Nightmares again?”

“What do you mean again?” you asked in confusion, still trying to level out your breathing.

“Don’t be mad,” she played with the fraying edge of Joel’s bedsheet. “Joel told me once that you get them pretty bad.” A fresh layer of tears dotted your waterline, and Ellie’s frown deepened. “Maybe he shouldn’t have told me, he was just worried about you, that’s all.”

“I’m not mad, Ellie,” you assured. Hesitantly, you shuffled toward the headboard to rest beside her, and your hand hovered over hers on the sheet. You gave her a chance to pull away in case she was apprehensive you after what you’d almost done. But Ellie didn’t move away. Instead, she reached up and grabbed your hand, interlocking her bony fingers with yours. “I almost…” your voice cracked when you spoke, throat thick with emotion.

“Hey,” Ellie interrupted your train of thought, feigning nonchalance. “Not a scratch on me. I know you would never hurt me.” But her smile didn’t meet her eyes, and you could see a nervousness there; a hint of caution. Because you’d just shown that you even if you didn’t mean to, you could hurt her. Neither of you spoke for a while. You dragged your thumb in small soothing circles over the top of her hand. 

“You don’t have to tell me about it,” she said. The whites of her eyes shone in the dark room as she looked up at you. “But I understand how you feel, I swear. I get them too.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” you said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Ellie nodded slowly, and squeezed your hand a fraction tighter. “I can see it in your eyes sometimes.”

“See what?”

“The grief,” you murmured, wiping your cheek. “The fear, the anger. I recognise it because, most days, I feel all those emotions too.”

“I’m tough,” Ellie tried to smile, but it cracked when you frowned at her. “That shit’s in the past.”

“You shouldn’t have to be tough,” your lip twisted angrily. “You shouldn’t know what real pain feels like; not at your age. It’s not fair.”

“Nothing’s fucking fair,” she scoffed, looking away. “It’s just how it is, and we deal. Right?”

“It gets better,” you told her unconvincingly, and attempted a tight-lipped smile. You almost laughed at the irony of your statement as you sat with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

She rolled her eyes and gave a sad chuckle. “Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

When you didn’t speak again, Ellie shifted forward to rest her head on your shoulder, and slowly draped an arm over your middle.

“You should sleep,” she said. “I’ll wake you up if you start having another nightmare.”

You sniffled quietly, eyes welling up at the promise laden in her words. “Thanks, kid.”

And sleep you did. The darkness took you back into its arms with soft, loving caresses, and it was dreamless. You slept deeply for what felt like hours, until a soft sound in the bedroom made your eyes crack open.

You rose with a start, acutely aware of a tall figure in the doorway.

“Ellie?” you mumbled warily.

“Go back to sleep,” you heard her voice. Blearily, you saw her peak out from behind the figure and give you a sleepy smile before disappearing into the hall.

“It’s okay,” Joel’s voice whispered. The door clicked shut, and he was peeling his clothes off. He slid into the bed beside you in just his underwear, arms wrapping around your body and holding you to his warm chest.

“Joel,” you sighed in relief, sinking into his embrace. “You’re back.”

“I’m back, baby,” his fingers trailed through your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. “I’m back to keep the nightmares away. You can sleep, darlin’. I’ve got you.”

As Joel’s lips ghosted soft kisses across your shoulder, you fell into sleep’s embrace once more. 

--

You woke up alone in Joel’s bed, your hand grazing over the sheet where he’d been laying. It was still warm, signifying he’d only been gone for a short time. Faintly, you could hear him and Ellie chatting downstairs, the smell of eggs floating up the stairs. When you wandered down, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes, you found him sitting alone, nursing a cup of coffee. He gazed absently at the table, tracing a pattern into the wood, and didn’t notice you come in.

For a moment, you stood in the doorway and just stared at him. His greying curls were messy atop his head, strands still pressed down to his scalp from being shoved into his pillow for hours. You wanted to run your hands through them, trace the strands that grew down his neck. It had grown so much in the past month, and you realised you loved how unruly it got.

“Hey,” you said softly, lowering into the chair opposite him. “I thought you’d be off on patrol this morning,”

“No patrol today,” he said lowly, eyes raising from the table to take you in. Something was off, you realised. You couldn’t pinpoint the expression on his face, but he seemed quiet. Sad, maybe.

“No patrol?”

“They’re relaxing the search,” he explained.

“What?” you said sharply. “They haven’t found anything though.”

“And they aren’t going to,” Joel sighed. “It’s been a month. No one else has gone missing, the snow keeps fallin’, and the people are exhausted. It doesn’t make sense to keep going right now. We’d only be wasting resources.”

“Shit,” you ran a hand through your hair, eyes wide.

When he didn’t speak for a few moments, you felt your stomach twist with a type of nervous anticipation. His finger traced the same crack in the wooden table over and over again.

“Is everything,” you hesitated, cringing as his hand stopped its movement abruptly at the sound of your voice. “Is everything okay?”

Joel’s hand flattened on the table, eyes meeting yours again. Seeing his grim expression, the way his mouth was downturned, had memories of the night before slamming into you in a wave. You balked, mouth turning chalky as you summoned the courage to speak again.

“Ellie told you what happened,” is all you could muster.

Joel gripped his mug tightly, and that was all the response you needed to know you were correct. Your tongue darted out to anxiously wet your lips, but your mouth was like sandpaper. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it just as quick, shaking his head slowly.

“Please say something,” you whispered. You expected anger, but your heart began to pound as you realised that wasn’t what you would get. He looked resigned -  he looked devastated.

He sighed your name quietly, and you felt a crack form in your chest at his despondent tone.

“She’s my responsibility,” he finally said. “She needs to be safe.”

“She is safe,” you whispered, tears wetting your water line.

“She said you had your hands around her neck,” his voice broke on the last word, and he coughed quickly in an attempt to hide it. “Said it was another nightmare.”

It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Everything was too close, too tight. The air felt so thick suddenly, and you were sure you were suffocating. Sweat beaded on your palms and you rubbed them absently into your pants, your chest aching. No, no, no, no, no.

“Joel,” you pleaded. “It was a mistake. I didn’t even know where I was. I thought she was… Joel, I would never hurt Ellie.”

“I know,” he nodded.

“Is she scared of me?” you murmured, holding your breath as you waited for his response.

“That kid thinks the world of you,” he chuckled wetly, and your heart fell as you noticed tears in his eyes. “She’s not scared, she’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.” 

“I’ll get it under control,” you said hastily, desperate to show that you understood, that you knew you’d made a mistake. “I know it can’t go on like this, I would… god if I ever hurt Ellie, or, fuck, or you? I’d never forgive myself, Joel, I promise, nothing like that will ever happen again. I’m so sorry.”

As the last words fumbled from your lips, you realised you were crying. Your cheeks were hot and wet, your chin dripping salty tears onto your shirt. Joel’s hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks and wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I’ll do whatever I can to keep you both safe, I’ll tie myself to the damn bed at night, I-I’ll try meditation to stop the nightmares, anything.”

“Shh,” he whispered brokenly. “Stop.” Haggard gasps were ripping out of you, and you felt lightheaded.

“Please don’t cry baby, I can’t stand to see you cryin’.”

“Please don’t think I’m a monster,” a sob tore out of your chest. Please don’t hate me. Joel tugged you forward and wrapped his arms around your back, tucking your face into his neck. Please don’t leave.

He shook his head, mumbling your name over and over into your hair as he held you against him. “You’re good,” he assured, his lips peppering delicate kisses against your hairline. “You’re so good it hurts. We can figure this out, okay? But for now, I think it’s a good idea if you stay at your place when I’m not here.”

“Joel, please,” you tried, but he interrupted with a shake of his head.

“Just until we can find a way to get it under control,” he assured. “It’s not forever.”

“It won’t happen again,” is all you said, with a tone of finality.

“It won’t happen again,” he echoed.  

Your day at the stables went by in a daze. Plagued with images of your dream, of seeing your hands hovering over Ellie’s throat. Her pale blue eyes, shining with terror as they looked up at you, desperately yelling your name. The guilt was consuming, and ugly thoughts scratched at the back of your head, burrowing its way into your brain, screaming, you’re a danger to the people you love. You almost killed her. Joel doesn’t want you anymore.

For hours, you shoved yourself into your work, shovelling and saddling and feeding until your freezing hands were aching, and finally you trudged down the street towards your home.

It was dark out already. Only 6 o’clock in the evening, the sun had long since set, and you made your way home by muscle memory alone.

And when you made it to the porch, you found that the lights were on in the house.

Cal, you thought desperately. Thank god.

“Honey I’m home,” you called softly, voice raspy from not speaking all day. It was quiet, but you could hear him tinkering around in the kitchen. You hung your coat up by the door and brushed the snow off your hair, before wandered towards the sound.

“Shame I can’t smell any food,” you muttered teasingly, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to warm them. You entered the room with a small smirk on your face, jeering, “What good is having a house husband if dinner isn’t on the table when I get home?”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

You heart thudded painfully into your stomach. It was true what they say; that in moments of true terror, time stands still. The room was silent as you paused in the doorway. You could've heard a pin drop.

Standing in your kitchen, leaning comfortably against the sink, was not Cal.

“Lincoln,” you breathed. “What are you doing here? Where’s Cal?”

“Who’s Cal?” he tilted his head to the side, taunting you. His thin lips twisted into a sort of mean smile.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, like the sound of rushing water. You palms clammed up and your brain told you to run, to get the fuck out of the house, but it was like you had tunnel vison; you couldn’t take your eyes off him, and that leering grin.

“You should get out,” you steeled herself, broadening your shoulders. You were taller than him, and stronger, you’d wager. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing walking into my house like this, but Cal will be home soon, so you should go.”

“Oh, he’ll be home soon?” Lincoln stepped toward you and you stepped back instinctively, shoulder knocking sharply against the doorframe. He smirked. “I don’t think he will be, actually.”

Your face was hot, and you could feel fury begin to bubble in your chest. “Did you hurt him?”

“There, there,” he sneered, taking another step forward. “Don’t go getting hysterical on me now, I thought you were-“

You moved in a split second, not letting him finish his sentence before you’d spun on your heel to dash toward the front door. But a hand was gripping your bicep, and a heavy blow had landed on the back of your head.

A loud ringing filled your ears as you hit the floor, black spots forming in your vision as you stared up at him. He had the handle of a frying pan gripped tightly in his palm.  

Lincoln was speaking, but you couldn’t make out the words. Everything was spinning, and the last thing you saw was him crouching above you, before there was only darkness.

part six

taglist <3

@n7cje @sarahhxx03 @missgurrl @nrmnie @casa-boiardi @ghostofjoharvelle

[lokisgoodgirl]

Hail, Commander [Asgard!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki returns from war, and certain traditions must be upheld. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Language. Salirophilia (dirty Loki) Exhibitionism. Descriptions of violence/blood. (w/c 1.6k)

The clang of armoured spears vibrated the stone beneath your feet. Once. Twice. Three times.

You drew your gaze away from the twinkling lights of Asgard stretched below the balustrade, turning in a hurried curtsey as the returning commander approached. Nerves twisted in your stomach, though you had no idea why.

It was always thus when Loki returned from war.

He strode majestically through the towering columns, removing his horned helmet as he went. The clanking sound of the guards standing to attention in sequence as he moved past them broke the evening stillness, metal on metal clanging. It made your thighs squeeze together beneath the long skirts covering them.

His leather cape billowed theatrically behind his towering form, the fine silk lining catching the transient flicker of a hundred torches lighting his path. He shook his hair, heavy with the weight of battle fought. And won. It had been weeks since the younger prince had stalked the halls, and tonight he was on the hunt.

Reverently, you lowered your gaze, each purposeful stride of his muscled legs moving in your direction with predatory singularity. His usual flawless fairness was marred with ash and dark stains, visible on the gold of his armour even in the moonlight.

He hasn’t even bathed, you thought, a thrill racing in waves through your blood. The slap of his boots against the ground echoed in the silent night, becoming louder before stopping abruptly. You could smell the heat emanating from him; lustful intentions oozing from beneath war-ravaged leathers. The lingering smell of stale copper and sweat crawled up your nostrils.

Loki's cape swirled around his ankles in your line of vision, settling in shredded folds.

“Look at me.” he growled, lifting your chin with one curled finger. His thumb danced across your bottom lip, dragging the plump down.

For the first time in weeks, you saw his face; menacingly beautiful under starlight. His eyes were bright, the whites contrasting ethereally against layers of blood and soot smeared across his brow, his cheekbones, his throat.

“My Prince.” you greeted huskily. Loki gave a small nod in response. “You have been victorious, then?” you coyed, feeling your heart beat faster as a smile curled at his dry lips. “Could you ever doubt me, precious one?” he murmured, cupping your cheekbone. “I will always arrive victorious to you. Victorious for you.”

He flipped the edges of the cape backwards, before pressing you against the stone balustrade in a crushing kiss. His lips tasted like smoke and metal; the sharp tang of old copper springing to life on your searching tongue.

Loki groaned as your fingers caught on the lengths of his hair, dragging through the residue of crusted blood and sweat. His head fell back as you pressed closer to his chest, a mischievous palm rubbing over his stirring manhood.

"My filthy soldier..." you muttered darkly, observing the telling bob of his Adam’s apple cast in murky shadow.

The veins in his neck pulsed, thick ropes of muscle standing proud against the cake of grime which coated them. "Filthy Prince, if you please..." he goaded through shallow breaths. “You may be my betrothed, but I am still your superior.”

You stifled a giggle, feeling his cock inflate rapidly beneath layers of heavy leather as you grasped shamelessly at his hips, tugging at buckles and straps that hung sluttishly from every angle. Gods, how you had missed him. You gyrated firmly against his centre. Just once.

Loki's shoulders flexed beneath the heavy armour, head tilting with a hard glint to his features. With a stomach dropping pulse, you realised that look would have been the last thing his enemies ever saw.

"Tread carefully love..." he whispered menacingly, a tingle of anticipation rolling up your spine as a knowing smirk cracked the dried dirt by his dimples. His eyebrow cocked, a hand you knew would leave a soiled trail down the fine silk of your dress sliding to rest on your lower back. "I am not in a merciful mood."

You bit your lip, watching Loki break into a mischievous smile. His teeth were blindingly bright against the stains streaked on his skin, layered effects of deadly strikes and blows and carnage mapped in each square inch of his face. “Do you see them?” he purred, tilting his head. You shivered, casting a glance to the dozens of Asgardian palace guards lined up along the promenade to the great hall; their stares fixed ahead. “They have orders to stay at their post all night.” he murmured.

“Your father has organised a feast for your glorious return…” you hummed, as Loki hoisted you to sit atop the balustrade with a soft thump. Loki pursed his lips knowingly, a playful twang in his voice. “And I have still yet to bathe...as you may have noticed.”

He placed a lingering kiss in the curve of your neck, the resulting groan of desperation from your parted lips making him chuckle against the skin.

“Do you wish me to stop?” he murmured, kissing messily up your heated neck as he spread your legs. You squirmed on the wide stone balcony, tightening your knees against his hips. His mud-roughed cheek grazed yours, warm breath making you shiver against the evening chill. “Do you have the strength to wait, love?”

“No…” you whispered shakily, letting your fingers unclasp the buckle slung over his chest. It loosened the front panel of his leather armour, falling open. Your hands dove inside, kissing him like he had returned from the dead. Perhaps he had.

“Good.” he growled, whipping the sides of his leather battle garb around your widened thighs. Concealed fingers skimmed ribbons of silk up your legs, the fabric falling beneath his touch like enemies beneath his sword. Pushing it around your hips, he inhaled the musk of hot, feminine arousal rising between your bodies; sweet against the copper tang of his filth.

“You know not what I have done for this moment, love.” he muttered, combing a dirt laden hand through your hair. “The chaos I have wrought.”

Your back arched, feeling his wetted cock press against your slit; desperate and fierce. The stone of the balustrade grated against your ass as you shifted towards him, urging him to fill you with the closeness you missed. To complete you again.

“Loki…” you mewled pleadingly as a smirk tugged his cracked lips. It was tradition, that he would tell you his tales. Loki’s return wouldn’t be the same without them.

“I slaughtered legions, each demon falling to my feet with a final wail of hopeless anguish…” he whispered, nudging the leaking tip against your entrance. Your hips bucked upwards, urging him on.

“Their blood ran in rivers, darling. You should have seen it, the pathetic fear in their eyes before they felt the quick of my blade slice across their throat. F-fuck...” he groaned, breaching you with a low, guttural sigh.

Loki’s fingers grasped around your thighs, tugging you down his cock. The scrape of the balustrade stone stung the curves of your flesh, any discomfort obliterated by the exquisite sensation of his manhood setting every nerve of pleasure alight. His metal wrist-guards pressed against the flat of your thighs as he rocked your hips, lost in the theatrics of his arousal.

“We tore t-through their defences…” he gasped, delivering small thrusts with aching precision. “It was brutal. Messy. We...g-gods...o-obliter-rated...their...uhhh...h-hope-”

“-More, Loki…” you keened in his ear, fingernails scraping down his shoulders beneath the overcoat as your head fell back. The god chuckled as he enveloped you, the cape like wings covering your modesty as he fucked you like a common whore, perched upon the balustrade.

The angle of his hips was perfect, each roll of them edging you closer to inevitable orgasm as a steady beat of drums began to pepper the air. The Procession, you realised; each beat of percussion seeming to tremble the very breath from your body.

“Their army p-parted like leaves...scattered, sand in the wind before our mighty f-force.” he panted, edging deeper into your wet heat. Every drag of his heavy cock was tortuously slow, melting you from the inside out as he tried to maintain some element of subtlety. Your knees rose against his ribs, letting him lean you back over the balustrade.

“So much destruction, love.” he murmured, as firelight from the wall torches flickered tepid warmth behind his head. “So much power your god held in his hands. All for you.” The streets were full tonight, candles held by citizens setting the winding path to the palace alight in grateful homage. A booming, solitary voice heralded from below, soaring to the heavens. "Hail, the victorious dead." The familiar mantra vibrated around Asgard's high towers, washing over the muted hiss of the slow moving crowd walking the cobbled streets. Hail, the ghostly refrain of a thousand souls echoed in response. "Hail, our glorious commander." the voice sang solemnly; the ceremonial vindication making Loki delve further into your cunt with a shuddering sigh. Hail, Commander. Hail. Your voice joined the reverent murmurs of gratitude crashing against the walls of the palace like a wave, hundreds of feet below. Each syllable from your lips was a lullaby, whispered wetly against your commander's skin.

You clenched, hearing him hiss beneath the veil of tangled, filthy hair. He muttered ancient curses, pelvis grinding against your clit as he rocked you towards the precipice.

“How many, Loki…?” you groaned, feeling his balls tighten against your slick sex. He let out a growl, scraping his teeth down your cheek with a feral moan. “Thousands, my love." he purred darkly. "Dead at my feet.”

With a strangled gasp, you came around him; leaning into his war-soaked leathers to stifle the scream clawing in your throat. You had no idea how clandestine your fucking truly was, but whatever the guards thought they were seeing out the corner of their eye - you did not intend to confirm it.

“They cried for m-mercy at the end.” Loki gasped, tacky curls falling against his brow as he watched himself sink inside your leaking pussy, still quivering with aftershock. “Their cries...uhh..that’s it, f-fuck, d-darling...their cries went unanswered.”

Loki’s breath hitched at his own words, a wavering moan snaking past his lips as a low hiss. The god's carved jaw pointed to the stars, clenching as he approached climax with a dirty growl rolling in his chest.

“No mercy.” you whispered against his cheek, concealing another moan in his shoulder as he fucked you to the slow beat of drums in the distance.

“No mercy.” he echoed quietly, before fastening his mouth to yours.

Continued in The Feast

A/N: @mischief2sarawr I hope this somewhat satisfied your mighty balustrade related need. Tags @gigglingtigger @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @loopsisloops @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @123forgottherest @joyful-enchantress @sititran @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @filthyhiddles @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @smolvenger @liminalpebble @psychospore @littlespaceyelf @lokischambermaid @praq123 @lokisgoodboy