#Tuck and his glow in the dark stars

[inkcalamities]

Annotating is nerve wracking 🫠

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[g0dlyunsub]

not enough.

spencer couldn’t be there to help you during a case, and he thinks that he’s not deserving of your forgiveness.

pairing :: spencer x fem bau!reader

warnings :: mentions of fire, burns and injuries, hospitalization, reader gets injured, angst, descriptions of blades, hurt/comfort, fluff, medical inaccuracies

word count :: 1.8k

author’s note :: i have not written in a while but here's something that's been sitting in my drafts :3

accompanying song :: breathe by lauv

"kid, you need to go."

"no, i'm not leaving you. i'm not-" spencer coughs as the dust mingles with the air in his lungs. "-i'm not leaving her."

"reid, go!" derek shouts over the roaring flames.

you can hear their desperate exchange, but you can’t say anything. 

everytime you swallow, it feels like a razor blade's sliding down your throat; it makes jagged cuts in your parched throat. 

all of your tears have evaporated from the surface of your eyes due to the scorching heat, and it hurts to blink. 

you don’t even realize that your trousers are literally on fire until spencer’s patting at the flames with his bare hand, all the while trying to get the restraints off of you.

“i can’t- i can’t get them off!” spencer heaves, and you can hear the panic in his voice turning into hot anger.

“reid, just take the other guy and go!” 

derek’s shouting, but he’s barely audible next to the unrelenting fire.

"please, let me-"

you feel spencer tug with all his might, pushing and pulling against the ropes, but they’re too tight. the ropes aren’t made of special material, but the heat’s completely melted and fused the knot, making it near-impossible to rip apart.

you can barely keep your eyes open, but you can still see spencer frantically whipping his head back and forth, glancing at you and the last hostage in the room.

derek gives spencer a knowing look, one that you know all too well. 

reluctantly, spencer looks down. 

he can see the flames reflected in your eyes. 

he can see the pain seared into your skin.

a lump starts to form in his throat.

you’re mouthing the word go.

greasy tears well up in his eyes, and spencer splutters a cry. 

“sorry.”

he adds another sorry. and he adds another, until all he’s murmuring is an incoherent stream of apologies. 

you watch as he slings his arm around the hostage’s waist and drags his feet to the exit, and you watch until all you can see is the wavy outline of his figure, distorted by the heatwaves.

your eyes flicker between open and closed.

“y/n, stay with me. no, no, no,” derek shakes you while he continues to saw through your strings with a dull object, “don’t you give up on me now.”

the smoke’s rolled up to cover the ceiling, and an amber glow coats the entire room.

with the cacophony of the roaring flames, expletives spluttering from derek’s mouth, and the back and forth of the rounded blade, the sounds of your restraints loosening barely make it to your ears.

“come on!”

derek hastily tears the fraying restraints and pulls you away from the blazing rod that you’ve been tied to.

you take a desperate gasp for air at the sudden relief, but only choke on dust and the fierce heat. 

it’s too much — too much grime, grease, toxins coating your airways. you stop trying to breathe.

you hear derek groan as he takes your limp body in his arms and lifts you up, and the sudden change in position has you seeing stars.

as derek hauls you out, you see a brief flash of the sky. you could’ve sworn it was a shade of blue clearer than the ocean before you entered, but now it’s a beat down shade of jaundiced yellow.

huh.

it’s burning so darkly.

—

when spencer sees you come out of the burning building, tucked in the arms of derek morgan, he thinks he’s looking at a fallen angel.

dark smoke and dust pepper you head to toe, and your parted lips are making such a desperate effort to stay open.

you’re not breathing.

he breaks into a sprint. the calls from hotch and rossi fly behind him, as do their attempts to grasp him back. he runs to you, and not a single person can stop him.

he drops to his knees next to your unconscious body on the ground with derek, and his heart instantly falls. 

his brain starts to perform an instant diagnosis of your condition – he sees the burn marks scattered over your arms and legs, and he can almost feel your pain, like your nerves are connected to his.

the medics surrounding the scene yell out orders to stay back so that they can start chest compressions, but spencer won’t move.

he’s with you when you jerk back out of unconsciousness, when you’re still too weak to process all of the visual and auditory cues around you.

he’s with you when you’re lifted onto the back of the ambulance.

you can hear him raising his voice at the medics.

“we need to administer aerosolized unfractionated heparin with albuterol and check for hypovolemia, she needs oral and mivf immediately upon admission-”

you phase out once again.

—

when you open your eyes, you realize that you’re not in an ordinary hospital room.

you’re inside the intensive care unit.

generally, only family members are admitted as visitors in the icu, but the man laying his head over the side rails of your bed isn’t your family member.

spencer had to break some protocol to get here.

as you shift your bandaged arms over the blanket, spencer starts to stir slightly, until he realizes that it’s you moving beside him.

his eyes widen as he raises his head.

���how do i look?” you weakly mutter and force your lips into a smile.

his lips quiver, and he’s about to reach for your hand before he realizes that you probably can’t even handle his touch.

“so-” his voice cracks, “so beautiful. so incredibly beautiful.”

your heart does a flip at his words.

“you don’t have to lie.”

he looks away for a brief second, before shaking his head. “i’m not. i swear. you’re the most beautiful woman i’ve ever met — that i’ve ever seen.”

you let out a pained chuckle. “would you look at that, my skin’s blushing.” you turn your arm to the side slightly and loosen your bandages to reveal the pink cuts in your flesh. 

spencer’s brows knit together in a pained expression, and you cringe at your own joke.

you inhale slowly. “spill it, spence.”

“spill what?”

“you did that thing where you look away. it’s your giveaway.”

“no, i-”

you turn your head to look at him with a pleading face, and he succumbs instantly.

he pulls his hand. “i- uh…”

he looks at you once and you raise your brows, an encouraging sign to continue written all over your face.

“i don’t deserve you.”

you blink slowly.

“you deserve someone better,” he continues, looking down ashamedly.

you can't possibly be hearing him correctly. “someone better?”

“someone like morgan.”

“morgan?”

“yeah. derek morgan. he’s the one who stayed with you, who carried you out of that crumbling building. i couldn’t protect you. i failed the one thing i promised myself.” 

“spencer, i wasn’t the only one- you had to save the other guy stuck in there.”

“the worst part is-” spencer chokes, “even if i traded places with morgan, i don’t know if i would’ve gotten us out in time.”

your eyes start to water. “no, spence, don’t say that.”

“i’m not strong enough. i’m not strong like morgan, and i’m not strong enough to protect you. i let you down. i failed you.”

you shake your head. “no, spencer. no. you’ve never failed me, do you hear me? you never failed me and you never will fail me. because-”

you take a deep breath.

“you broke protocol for me, the entire time. i heard what you said to the medics in the ambulance. and you’re here. right now.”

this time, he shakes his head. “it’s the least i can do. it still doesn’t change the fact that i couldn’t take the bullet for you.”

“spencer-”

you lean forward, a strangled grunt leaving your lips, until you’re a mere inch away from spencer’s face.

“maybe,” you start, flickering your gaze left and right into his sunken eyes.

“maybe i want to take the bullet for you too. maybe i want to protect you too. maybe i want-” you smile, “-to fight to stay with you.”

he pulls back, and glassy traces of tears coats his entire face.

again, you smile. “because if you don’t deserve me, then i don’t deserve you either.”

and it’s your goddamn smile that absolves all of his worries in an instant, that makes spencer forget that you’re bundled up in layers of gauze and bandages, that makes him think you’re an angel with a golden halo that’s lighting up the entire room.

it’s only when you let out an disgruntled sigh that he realizes you’re not an angel in a dress but a patient in a hospital gown, and the guilt latches back onto him like an inseparable magnet.

spencer’s eyes soften with concern and gloss over your entire body. gently lifting the edges of the blanket, he brushes his fingers against yours.

“my arm – it’s itchy,” you explain, and close your eyes to restrain yourself from picking at your scabby skin.

“i’m sorry,” spencer returns, an empathetic expression sweeping his face. “the bandages have to stay on, unfortunately.”

“my face-” you start, and spencer’s now looking at you with an expression crossing between serious and disturbed.

“your face? does it itch? where?”

he leans over, and cups your chin in the palm of his hand. slowly, he moves your face to the left and right, until you meet his misty brown eyes in the middle.

“my mouth.”

“your mouth?”

“yeah,” you scrunch your lips in a pained expression, but smile. “i think a kiss would help.”

spencer raises his brows in surprise, and a coughy chuckle leaves the back of his throat.

he can’t fight the excitement bubbling in his heart when you say that, when you’re so adorably bold in front of him.

how could he ever deserve you?

“you asked for it,” he murmurs quietly, before leaning in and bringing his lips to yours. he caresses the side of your face as his soft lips give you a taste of his desperation, though it’s too short to quench your desire.

he pulls back and cocks his head to the side to stare at you with admiring eyes. “is that better?”

you return a contemplative look, pouting your lips slightly. “it’s still itchy.”

he shakes his head amusedly and places a hand on the cushioned mattress, before leaning in to make your heart flutter with another kiss. it’s deeper than before, but he still draws himself back to not deprive you of your air.

once again, he pulls back and graces your eyes with a shy smile. “how about now?”

you tut disapprovingly. “nope.”

a wide smile curves the corners of spencer’s mouth, and he reaches to hold your hand affectionately in his. 

your feverish cheeks light up with a hot glow when your lips intertwine with his in a slow rhythm, when spencer slowly moves his hand behind your head to tousle your strands of hair flowing through his fingers.

he doesn’t ask any more questions.

[sectumsempraaa]

Flames on Thin Ice

Pairing: jealous!Theo Nott x fem!Ravenclaw!reader

Word count: 2.9k

TW: cursing, jealousy, ridiculous amounts of yearning and fluff

Based on this request! Thank you :)

Summary: You and Theo Nott are something much more than friends, but just less than lovers. He would very much like to change that, as he’s no longer able to control his rapidly intensifying feelings for you. But when Slughorn’s exclusive Christmas party approaches and Draco Malfoy asks you to be his date, the limits of Theo’s jealousy are tested like never before.

“Come here, bella,” Theo smiles and gestures towards you as he strides over to where you stand, surrounded by holiday decor. He approaches you from the side, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you gently. A blush spreads across your cheeks as you hook an arm around his shoulders, placing the star on top of the Slytherin common room holiday tree.

Decorating the common room tree is one of your favorite parts of winter at Hogwarts. This year, the Slytherins asked for your help after hearing how amazing you did with the Ravenclaw tree for your own house.

Theo can’t say the same, but he’d do just about anything at this point to spend time with you. His crush on you has blossomed the last couple of months, your pull on him amplifying each day. Any opportunity he sees to touch you, help you, or make you laugh, he takes. No question.

“Grazie, cara mio.” You respond, looking down into his heavy, perfect blue eyes. You always try to speak to him in Italian whenever you can, picking up on his more common phrases. You’re the only one that goes to that kind of effort for him and he notices it. God, does it notice it.

He spins you around, earning a series of giggles from you before he lets you back down on your feet. Your hand lingers on his for a few seconds, which feels like an eternity to him. If only he could kiss you right here, right now. But the graze of your fingertips on his palm is enough for him, for now. He’ll take what he can get.

You step back, turning towards the fully decorated tree, ready to show off your hard work. He wants to watch with you but he can’t bear to when you’re looking this beautiful, this stunning. His eyes obsess over your every perfect feature, his eyes drinking in your essence. 

This might be my favorite outfit of hers. The plaid skirt, the knee-high socks, the cream colored sweater. No- the one from my birthday, when she wore my necklace…

Oblivious to his longing stare, you take out your wand, tucked into the waistline of your skirt.

“Lumos,” you say, a look of wonder and awe blossoming on your face as the tree lights up. The warm glow makes you gasp, the sudden joy jolting through you.

Your hands quickly grab his bicep, pulling yourself towards him. A squeal of happiness escapes you, prompting a laugh from Theo. His smile, your favorite smile, triggers your heart to flutter. The way you’re looking at him sends his mind spiraling.

Gods, she is perfect.

It takes him a second to recover from the profound effect your touch has on him. His skin burns like fire, his heart aching for you. 

I’ll win her. I’ll win her so she can spin around in my arms again next year.

Your soft voice brings him out of his thoughts. “What do you think? Is it good enough?” you ask, your eyes contemplating your creation.

He reluctantly removes his arm from your hands, wrapping it around your shoulders and pulling you close to his side, your head resting gently on his shoulder. In a moment of risk, he drops it to your waist, his fingers fiddling with your sweater. Your face quickly turns to his in surprise. 

His pulse stops, his breath with it as your hand slowly makes its way to his chest, resting above his heart. Your head tilts up to meet his dark stare, your eyes locking in on each other.

“It is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. It is glaringly apparent he isn’t talking about the tree anymore. 

You swore his head leaned down, his lips parted slightly, his hand pressed your whole chest against his, before-

“Y/L/N! Where is that pretty little Ravenclaw?” You hear a familiar, yet obnoxious, distant voice crawling its way into the common room from the dungeon corridor. A disgruntled Theo shuts his eyes in defeat.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

He notices the look of disappointment etched in your features, it’s enough to send a pang of longing and frustration slamming into him. His heart drops as your body detaches from his, putting a space between you. His side feels colder without your warmth against it.

I had her.

Draco rounds the corner, a skip in his step as he confidently strides over to you. His eyes light up with glee as Theo’s darken, seeing red. Draco takes your hands in his, kissing each one before speaking.

“My lovely little Y/L/N, just the girl I was looking for. I’ve got something to ask you,” he starts, your eyes widen as he gets down on one knee, keeping your hands clasped with his. A quick glance at Theo shows you the tension in his jaw, the dagger-like stare he casts on Draco.

Why’s she looking at him like that? That look was for me not even a minute ago.

“I have been personally invited to Slughorn’s holiday party and I couldn’t think of a more perfect date to bring. Will you be my plus one?”

The look of hesitancy on your face prompts him to continue. “Consider it the best Christmas present you could give me.”

Normally, Draco wouldn’t even entertain the idea of taking anyone outside his own house. But the Slytherin crew has a soft spot for you, so much so that the common room door doesn’t argue when you say their password anymore.

You giggle, taking a step closer to Draco. “Well, I do love a Christmas party.”

His bright, smug smile draws you in as he stands up and pulls you in for a hug, resting his head on top of yours. “I know you do.” He smirks.

He shares the time and dress code details with you before heading off to meet up with Blaise for dinner. You look around, only to find you’re alone in the common room. Theo left, admittedly, before he blew a fuse.

—

The next couple of weeks are interesting to say the least. Theo has been pining for your attention, trying to distract you from the other boys as much as he can. But mostly, he’s been keeping an eye on Malfoy.

In one instance, Draco came to Theo’s dorm, where he knew you were hanging out, to ask what you were going to wear to the party. “Hmm, we should match, I think.” He suggested. 

Nope. Not today, mate. And certainly not in my fucking bedroom.

Theo suddenly picked you up off his bed bridal style, physically removing you from Draco’s presence before either of you could agree on an accent color.

“Theo!” You yelp, wrapping your arms around his neck and peeking back at Draco. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere that prat isn’t.” He responds with haste.

In another instance, Draco sat across from you in the Great Hall during breakfast and gifted you a pair of earrings for the event. “They sparkle almost as much as you, love.”

The gesture brought a heat to your cheeks that had Theo making fists under the table. He can’t stand to see you flustered over Draco’s pathetic attempts to buy your affection.

Thin ice, Malfoy. Thin. Fucking. Ice.

Draco continues. “My mother picked them out special. She was beside herself when I told her I was taking you.”

At this, Theo happened to “accidently” spill his tea directly into Draco’s lap, earning him a public scolding. But the words go through one ear and out the other. He remains unscathed, because Draco left, and you’re all his again. And really, that’s all he cares about.

—

The day of the party arrives, one Theo has been absolutely dreading. No amount of self-soothing could keep his mind from imagining the shit Malfoy would pull without him there to interfere.

In your dorm, Theo watches as you fix your hair and apply your makeup. He observes your every move, trying to etch each one into his memory, noting all the things you do that drive him crazy.

The way she bites her lip while putting on mascara.

How she hums Christmas carols while pinning up her hair.

When she asks me what shade of eyeshadow she should wear.

When you finish dolling yourself up, you change into your dress in the bathroom. A pout of frustration escapes you as you realize your hands can’t reach the zipper. You decide to ask for Theo’s assistance.

When you walk back into your dorm, you’re met with a completely awe-struck Theo, his tired eyes grow wider than you thought they could even go. The boy is seemingly paralyzed by you. 

Holy bloody hell.

His trance-like gaze runs over the lace neckline, down the curves of your bodice, and over the shimmering gown. He’s never seen you dressed up before, and you have him wondering why it took so long to.

“Spin.” He demands, begs. “Please.”

You slowly turn for him, a small smile adorning your face. The gown flows like water, splaying out as it twirls around you. You have to admit, both the dress and his reaction are feeding your confidence.

Nothing matters in the whole world except for her.

He stands, having noticed the undone zipper in the back. He saunters towards you, jumping at the opportunity, his eyes unwavering from your body. He places his hands on your hips, turning your back towards him.

Can I just marry her now? Can she wear this to our wedding? 

You feel his soft breath grace your neck, a whisper of affection envelopes you. “Mia bella ragazza,” he says, each word dripping with pure adoration. He zips you up with the utmost delicacy and care.

He wraps his left arm around you, pulling your back to his chest. He sways you both back and forth, imitating a slow dance.

“Y/N.” Theo says, ready to pour his heart out for you. Right here, right now. As your eyes meet his, you share a moment of yearning, his lips dead set on meeting yours…

Until an abrasive knock that could only belong to Draco breaks your stare from his.

Please don’t take her away from me now.

He, of course, opens the door without being granted entry. You slide away from Theo’s embrace, slipping on your heels and grabbing your cover-up. Draco beckons you to him, grabbing a hand and twirling you around.

The sound of your laughter plagues Theo. You link an arm with Draco, tucking into his side. Theo’s mind silently explodes with jealousy, trying to identify everything wrong with the sight in front of him.

He looks like dirt compared to her.

Draco reaches to fix one of the earrings he gave you, setting it just right. Heat begins to course through Theo’s very being.

I’d rather eat slugs than see my Y/N on his arm.

Draco leads them out, nodding a silent goodbye to Theo on the way towards the door. “I think we look rather dashing together, don’t you agree?” he asks, his ego caking each word.

Theo takes a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure as he’s left in silence. He vowed to himself that he would behave for you, for this one night. For your sake. 

But just before you leave his line of sight, you steal one last, desperate glance at Theo. And that’s enough to break his vow.

—

I can’t believe she makes me this stupid.

Theo thinks as he peers into Slughorn’s party from a tiny window. His feet perched on the ledge, several feet above the ground. His knuckles go white as his fingers grip the wall tightly. 

He spots you next to Draco at the table, noticing his hand covering yours. The students engage in lively conversation, mostly Malfoy telling boring stories about his father.

Though Theo tries hard to keep his focus on Malfoy, he can’t help but obsess over your breathtaking beauty.

His ears recognize the first few notes of the song you were humming earlier coming over the speakers. 

You gasp and whip your head towards Draco, your eyes lit up with excitement, your hands tugging his suit jacket. “This is my favorite song!! Can we dance?” You ask him.

He stands and offers you his hand, which you take immediately. “All night, if you’d like, love.” 

He doesn’t deserve this. He can barely carry a tune, let alone dance. 

Theo hops down from the window, using the moving picture frames as leverage. Once he lands, he finds the back entrance to the party, peering through the sheer curtains.

Good luck pulling this off, Malfoy. I hope she laughs in your face.

But that’s not what happens. In fact, it is hard to deny how absolutely gorgeous you two look together, each step perfectly placed, each twirl calculated. Everyone watches you both sweep across the dance floor with ease, like you’ve rehearsed this a thousand times. 

And even worse, it looks like you’re enjoying it. Theo’s hand drags down his face in agony.

Fuck… he’s killing it.

Theo’s inner fire intensifies as Draco’s hand moves to rest on your lower back. Too low for his liking. And the way you’re eating it up drives him mad. Draco leans in near your ear, sharing smirks and whispers with you. 

The bloody fool is talking during her favorite song instead of letting her sing.

An idea sparks in Theo’s head, one that would probably disappoint you. But he doesn’t care anymore. Especially as he watches Draco cross the final line by dipping you backwards, his eyes obviously lingering on your chest. When he lifts you back up to him, you hear a faint, boyish voice call from behind you.

“Confundus.”

Suddenly, Draco stumbles over, tripping over his own feet and falling on the floor, bringing you down with him. Slughorn swiftly strides over and accuses Draco of drinking too much champagne, despite your efforts to defend him. When he’s asked to leave, you follow him.

“Are you okay?” You ask, patting down the front of his suit jacket and fixing his hair. He rolls his eyes, shrugging you off and mumbling something to himself about how “Slughorn will pay for this.”

As he sulks away, you find yourself alone in the corridor, sighing and stepping out of your heels. A humming sound emanates from behind you, the familiar tone easily identifiable to your ears. You can’t help but smile as the pieces fall into place.

“Really? Confundus?” You joke, turning your head to the side with a smirk. Theo’s arm wraps itself around your front once again, swaying you in his slow-dance way. What you didn’t expect was the feeling of his lips on your cheek, kissing you ever so softly.

“Si, bella.” He responds, switching to kiss your other cheek. “With the way he drooled on you all night, he’s lucky it wasn’t a Crucio.”

You remove his hand, letting yourself turn to face him. He kicks your heels to the side, allowing you to step closer. Your hand reaches up to caress his cheek, your finger tracing the edge of his jaw.

“Mio bel ragazzo,” you say, lifting yourself up on your tippy toes. He pulls away, catching you off guard, grounding yourself to the floor again.

“I’ve waited forever to kiss you, Y/N. Dreamed of it, even.” He pauses for a moment, gathering his words, his finger twirling around one of your stray curls. “Let me.”

The blush on your face hits a crimson peak, nodding a silent grant of permission. Your heart races as both his hands firmly cup your face, pulling you gently until you feel his lips join yours, melding into each other.

The kiss is long and earned, his lips moving against yours with intention. When he finally breaks for a breath, you tug on his collar, quickly crashing your lips back onto his. A low moan travels its way from his mouth to yours, his hands now wrapped securely around your waist. Good luck getting this boy to let go.

You pull away, letting Theo rest his forehead on yours, a stupid smile adorning his face as he processes the moment.

“For what it’s worth, I told Narcissa I wanted those earrings. I think she almost felt bad that I had to go with him.” You laughed, playing with the jewelry on your ears.

“He’s not allowed near you- no, he’s not even allowed in the same room as you from now on,” Theo says, a shadow of the tension in his jaw lingers. “Or it’s lights out for him.”

You both break into a fit of laughter at the threat, leaning on each other for balance.

You pause for a second, his eyes brimming with unspeakable joy. Your hand finds the back of his neck, grazing it with your fingertips, feeling the resulting chills it sparks on his skin.

“There’s only one room I want to be in right now, and I’d like you to take me to it.” You whisper, Theo’s expression becoming eager as he immediately lifts you up, swiftly carrying out your order. You could tell him to burn down a city and he’d do it for you.

“Am I dreaming this, bella? Am I really taking the most extraordinary person who’s ever lived back to my dorm?” He asks, relishing the feel of your arms around his neck and the scent of your vanilla perfume encompassing him.

“Wow, the most extraordinary person? Ever?!” You giggle, your voice coated with exaggeration. “What does that make you?” You ask him.

“The luckiest.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[dilfl0v3rss]

"lets talk in person"

it was simple. you were to go to his apartment, say your peace, and call the relationship quits. not everyone who loves each other should be together. it’s okay that you and ony aren’t going to work out. you’ll take the time you need to heal and eventually find someone new.

that’s what you’ve been telling yourself over and over for the past five minutes as you threw on your short shorts and cropped hoodie, your pink french tip toes neatly slipping into your hello kitty slippers. you overlooked yourself in the mirror. the soft fabric of your shorts moved with every inch of your ass, sitting on top of it as a second skin, clearly showing your lack of underwear.

‘just talking in person’ you thought as you grabbed your car keys from your vanity and made your way outside. this felt familiar. the soft rumbling of your engine as well as the pitch black sky, littered with crystal like stars. you’ve been here many nights before, tears in your eyes and an argument on your tongue as you raced across town to his house. the latest time being when you saw pictures in his phone being sent to him by another girl. you still don't know her name since the contact was saved as your favorite restaurant to calm any suspicion.

this time there were no tears and the many questions and concerns in your mind have faded away. you know that talking in person probably isn't the best idea given that ony has a way with words and knows how to use his body to his advantage, but you knew if you didn't tell him it was over to his face he wouldn't take it seriously.

for the first time since you’ve met ony you weren’t nervous when you approached his front door. you held your head high as you left three knocks to signal that you’ve arrived. seconds went by as you listened to the heavy footsteps coming from the other side. you took a deep breath and kept your eyes forward as the door began to open.

your heart fluttered at the sight of him. you knew this man was fine, but he always seemed to have a little extra glow when he pissed you off. it was like he thrived off of making your life a living hell sometimes. his chocolate brown eyes stayed trained on yours as he moved to the side for you to enter. his milkly white nike socks sat snug on his feet, light grey sweatpants starting from his ankle, up his long legs, all the way to his v-line. his black polo tee was sitting perfectly on his beautifully sculpted body, accompanied by two gold chains resting on his broad chest.

"hey ma" he rubbed a wide hand up his chest as he spoke.

his face was serious, but you knew it was a facade. his smooth, dark skin looked freshly moisturized as if he had just showered. his bottom lip tucked behind his pearly white teeth, centimeters away from his growing goatee below it. ony has been a known manipulator for years, and you’re just like the other many woman that have found themself stuck in his trap. you were different from those other women though, much smarter.

“thanks” you mumbled, ignoring his greeting before moving past him and towards the couch. you fought with yourself about taking a second look at him, but decided against it, knowing that all it took was that one extra look and you’ll be back in his bed again. you heard ony chuckle at your attitude. "cute", he thought, closing the door before slowly making his way next to you on the couch. he gave you some room since it was often that he’d manspread like he was now. ony spread his legs wide as he slid his inked hands into the waistband of his sweats, his navy blue polo boxers making an appearance as the waistband of his sweats stretched over his fists. low eyes moved towards you and rested there, just taking in your presence as the two of you sat silently. ony's lack of words scared you since it was often that he’d start trying to get you to talk to him by now, but that wasn't happening.

you felt naked under his gaze, that nervousness quickly sneaking into you as you kept your eyes on his. he knew you were on the shyer side, always turning away when it came to holding eye contact or speaking up to him. this is what he fed on to get the upper hand on you, but you refused to let the same that's happened many times before happen today. “ion think we should be together no more ony.” you broke the silence, body finally finished wasting time to free the words your mind has been screaming since you walked into the door. your tone surprised ony, its sternest very foreign to him. you were ready for him to try to plead with you, try to hold your hand and tell you that he wanted to change. that was actually what you would’ve preferred, it would’ve helped you be able to actually leave because that's what you were expecting, but tonight isn’t really feeling like how they used to anymore.

ony didn’t say anything. his eyes just stayed on you, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he tilted his head to the side. a shiver ran down your spine as you watching his dark eyes move down your body, stopping right at your center before a small smirk crept onto his lips and he rejoined his eyes with yours. “so you leavin me, huh?” his deep voice caused his chest to rumble, the bass in it causing your thighs to tighten together. you gave him a small nod, only adding fuel to the fire as his head began to nod as well. “speak up mama" the sound of that nickname rolling off his tongue forced a rush of arousal to run through your body, stomach filled with butterflies as you adjusted yourself in your seat. why does he have to be so handsome?you wanted to just jump into his arms and let him take you, but that wasn't an option tonight. of course ony could tell you were fighting with yourself. he fought back a grin as his eyes traveled down to your tightly clenched thighs. you watched as his bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth, his hunger rising in his gaze.

he rose from his seat on the couch, “ima give you the night to think it over, but you can grab some of your stuff tonight i guess.” the gold on his canines showed as he spoke win a bored tone, his hands moving from his sweatpants as he rose from the couch.

your eyes followed him, his 6’3 figure looming over you as you stay seated on the couch. he had the audacity to stretch like the situation was just another night for him, but you couldn’t stop yourself from staring right at him. ony’s lower stomach made an appearance as he stretched the muscles of his back, shirt riding up his stomach as a deep groan released from his throat. his visible tattoos ran from his neck all the way to his fingers. some of them he claimed represented you, but you doubt he hasn’t told other woman the same exact thing.

you watched him walk towards the bottom of the steps before turning facing you, dark brown eyes filled with mischief. “you coming baby?”

ony couldn’t bite back the smirk that overtook his features, his head tilting to the side as he raised a brow at you. you know this is a trap. if you go up those stairs you most definitely won’t be coming back down tonight. you’re sure that the rest of the women he’s been with have fell for the same exact thing and that’s why you knew it was time to leave.

ony is a liar and a manipulator. he is incapable of showing loyalty or commitment, and he shows no signs of potentially changing this behavior. he is the worst type of man a woman can involve herself with and he deserves to be left standing at the bottom of the steps as you walk away from him and this toxic situation you called a relationship. he deserves to be treated the same way you were and worse.

you aren’t like the other woman he’s been with. you knew it and he knew it. you were much smarter and were quicker to pick up on his schemes. you were much more logical than the rest.

“uh huh, there you go. loosen her up f’me” the base in his voice ran straight to your core as ony fucked you slowly in missionary. your legs were spread wide, each and every inch of him stroking you as pretty whines flowed from your lips. he watched you hungrily, dark brown eyes raking up and down your body before landing on your face. “look so pretty” he mumbled as he watched your face contort into many ones of pleasure, "o-oh my god"

within the first ten minutes of you being in his room you managed to get a pair of panties and a brush into your bag before you found yourself with his face between your legs. his long tongue making quick work of licking and eating whatever anger you had left before spreading your legs wide and feeding you every inch of his dick.

ony’s pace was quick, snatching loud moans from you before his wide, inked hands found purchase on the bottoms of your thighs. “you love me mama?” before you could reply, he slowly pushed your thighs towards your chest, listening to you breathlessly moan at his newfound angle. “hmmyea” your eyes began to roll, every sentence you’ve thought of saying dissolved on your tongue as he leaned down closer towards your face. “oh really? why you jus try to leave me den? youn love daddy no more” ony couldn’t stop his smirk from widening as you watched you panic beneath him. whiney, breathless begs flowed from your kiss-bruised lips as your walls tightened around him.

“was stupid, love you papa, o-only you” you looked up at him, brown doe eyes fighting not to roll back as your lips curved into an adorable pout, you were stunning. ony’s dick began to twitch at the sight, an orgasm threatening to approach causing his breathing to quicken. “maybe i should put a baby in you. that should set you straight right?” you were so fucked out you barely could register his words. your mindless nodding being evidence of that. your lack of comprehension only turned ony on more as he began to push himself deeper into you, his pace quickening even more as he began to pound you into the mattress.

“you my stupid lil princess ain’t you, so damn beautiful” ony chuckled at the sight of you. it wasn’t too long ago you were sitting on his couch telling him you were ready to call it quits. now here you are not even an hour later in the middle of his bed milking him for everything he had. you weren’t like the other girls, that was true. you weren’t oblivious to the things he did and you weren’t gullible either. you had a good head on your shoulders. other girls don’t think when it comes to ony, but that’s what makes you so much worse.

ony is a liar and a manipulator. he is incapable of showing loyalty or commitment, and he shows no signs of potentially changing this behavior. but while other woman mindlessly fall into his games, you knew all this and still choose to stay, letting his wide, dark hands roam and caress your body as he fed you each and every inch of him at a steady pace.

you nodded along to every word he uttered, not a single thought going through your brain as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten. "now tell daddy you sorry and promise not to do no dumb shit like that again." ony's hand slowly snaked up your body, stopping right at your throat before slowly squeezing it tighter and tighter. he slowed his strokes, hovering you right over the brink of your orgasm. he couldn't help a devilish smirk from spreading across his features as he listened to your pretty voice struggle not to break as you spoke. "sorry f'trying t'leave you daddy and- ah!" your sentence was cut off by a quick, hard trust of his hips, his dick reaching your deepest parts with a quickness as he tightened his grip on your throat. "let daddy hear you ma, use that big girl voice you had when we was downstairs."

you grew restless at the sound of his deep, commanding voice. he watched as you whimpered, tonging swiping over his bottom lip as he moved his face closer to yours. "m'listening" his hips didn't miss a beat, brown eyes staring deep into yours as your lips parted for you to speak. "m'sorry for tryna l-leave you daddy, won't do it again p-promise." as you spoke ony's hips moved rougher. his hand quickly finding your lower stomach before giving it a gentle push. "o-oh my god onyy" your back arched off the bed as your orgasm shook through your body. ony swallowed your moans, brown lips dancing with yours as his tongue asserted its dominance in your mouth.

your spit kept your lips connected as ony slowly moved his face from yours. he took in your fucked out state, eyes rolled back, lips swollen from the many kisses you've shared, not a single argument on your tongue nor a thought in your head. nothing but ony clouding your mind as he dug you out in ways he knew you'd never be able to find anywhere else. he had you right where he wanted and by the looks of the delirious, fucked out smile spreading to your lips you wouldn't even remember what you were mad about in the morning. ony fucked you a little harder and a smirk crept onto his face at the sight.

"my stupid lil princess"

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒖𝒏𝒌𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - after getting his heart broken, something leads clark to the strawberry shack, allowing him to release all his anger.

warning - smut, gloryhole, swearing, slight angst, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Lois had left him, she had packed her bags and walked out the door. Though she wasn’t expecting him home, which explained the shocked look on her face when he walked through the front door, seeing her bags packed and her keys in her hand. Clark watched her leave before flying off anywhere that could keep his mind off her. He stumbled upon a certain building that caught his eye, the flashing sign that read ‘The Strawberry Shack’ caused him to become curious, so he landed and walked in. 

Listening to the woman at the front as she explained things, his face turning red, jaw clenching and his brows furrow as he realised the type of establishment he walked into. “So, sugar. What’s it gonna be? Door one or door two?” 

“Uh… What the hell. Door two.” He pulls out some cash and hands it over before walking toward the door, he can feel his mind go crazy as he enters, never seeing this many naked women before. Clark could feel a pull towards a certain woman, not being able to control his feet as he walks in your direction. He’d have to remember to be careful, not wanting to literally split you open from his strength. “Hello.”

Clark was mad and you could practically feel that radiating off him. So, you spread your legs, inviting him in for him to use you however he pleases. “I can feel your anger, handsome. Why don’t you use me, take it out on me.” 

Clark glares down at your sopping cunt, licking his lips as he feels himself harden in his pants. His hands move subconsciously, taking his cock out and stroking it as he stares down at you. A groan slips from his lips before he begins to slowly push inside of you. Clark’s eyes slip closed as he revels in the feel of a new woman, slowly thrusting in and out of you, hands gently gripping your hips as he feels you squeeze around his thick girth. 

“Oh, you feel so good. Fuck me, please.” You let out a breathless moan, your back arches off the bench as he begins to slam into you, hitting that spot deep inside of you. Clark begins to lose control, thrusting faster and harder, his cock throbs as he really fucks you. He grunts and groans, tightening his grip slightly, his eyes glow red as lasers shoot from his eyes and he quickly blinks.

“Fuck…” His balls tighten, hips jerk as he growls, releasing thick ropes of cum inside of you, coating your tight walls. He continues to roughly fuck into you until his balls are empty, enjoying how you squirt around him. “F–fuck…” He pulls out slowly, cleaning you up before tucking himself back into his pants. “I–I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” Clark quickly worries, hurriedly running out the door and flying off, feeling ashamed for using you for his pleasure. 

You lie there, staring above as you can barely feel your legs, tingling between your thighs as stars cover your vision and a dopey smile rests on your face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[bamboozledbird]

Written in the Stars // Stiles Stilinski Imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Stiles x You (no use of y/n) Word Count: 5k Tags: fluff, fluff, fluff, i love my men nerdy and desperate, all characters are over 19, my vibe is it's like their sophomore or junior year of college Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, unprotected pnv (terrible advice, babes, don't listen to these idiots)

Request: stiles smut plssss!!! anything fluffy??? A/N: request mixed with a lil bit of an old work to ease me into my first smut. still coming across virginities at 27, and that is really something. s/o to the anon who requested it lmao.

Stiles’s childhood bedroom is an assortment of Star Wars paraphernalia, baseball posters, and bundles of wrinkled flannels squeezed to fit within four faded blue walls. There are a few books stacked on top of his desk, coated in a thin layer of dust from the semester away from home, and little plastic stormtroopers stand at attention on his dresser corners. It smells a little musty in his room, a little like damp earth, but you’ve always liked that smell. You especially like how his cologne smells here—like spice, like fallen leaves, like Christmas morning. 

“The curtains are blackout,” Stiles says. He pulls the heavy navy curtains over the window facing the small backyard. The grass is yellowing from the cold of winter, and the air is crisp with the same bitter chill. You shiver and burrow further into the sweatshirt you’d somehow commandeered long before you and Stiles were a we. A few flecks of dust float off the plaid bedding when he sits down on his bed. He looks up at you and grins at the sleeves hanging limply below your fingers, “Flip off the light.” 

You turn off the light and shut the door. It’s dark inside the room now—almost completely black. What little remains of the sun is gone, and now you can only see the glow-in-the-dark stars sticky-tacked to the ceiling. “You must have taken a lot of people up here,” you hum, grinning at him coyly over your shoulder. You’re not quite sure if he can make out the glint in your eyes under the pale fluorescent glow, but you’d like to think he can. Either way, you’re sure he knows.

Stiles laughs easily and scoots himself down to the edge of his bed, “Why?”

“For kissing,” you say, matter-of-factly, but you’re still grinning. You make your way towards him, and your prowl is far less smooth than you’d like it to be—the piles of books and a couple month’s worth of dirty laundry make an already difficult path downright hazardous. You count it as a win when you end up in his lap without tripping on anything, “Doesn’t everyone want to be kissed under the stars?”

His hands, his wonderfully large and veiny hands, find their way to your hips. It’s instinct for him, reflexive at this point, and here in the dark it feels like the only thing he knows. You can feel his grin against your neck, “Do you?” 

You hum, playing coy, and absently curl your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, thick and curling a bit at the ends. It’s grown out over the last few months. He’s been too busy with studying for finals and working at the library to bother getting it cut. You like it like this, long enough to hold onto, long enough to yank. “I like the stars,” you sigh—so close to his mouth, but not touching—and then you pull back, smiling fondly when you see his mouth is already puckered. “Tell me about ‘em.”

Stiles groans and falls onto his back, pulling you down with him. You end up tucked against his side, shivering as he slides his hand under your sweatshirt to trace a feathery line up and down your back. “That’s like the worst possible genre for innuendo. I can’t woo you while I’m David Attenborough-ing about astrology.”

You smile against his shoulder, and he yelps when you nip at his skin through his thread-bare t-shirt. “You like a challenge.”

He wraps a strand of your hair around his finger and pulls a little, just hard enough to tip into a reprimand. It’s at least half the reason you turn into a brat when he’s this close. “There’s Andromeda,” he hums against the top of your head, pointing towards a small cluster of stars. “Those are supposed to be her legs, and that’s her head, and the ones over there are her arms—fuckin’ uneven, I know. I think that side kinda looks like she’s holding out one of those canes with tennis balls on t—”

You smile and knock your head into his chin lightly, “Wooing, Stiles.”

He tugs on your hair again and swears under his breath when a little whimper tumbles past your lips. “Anyway, she’s next to Perseus—who looks a lot more like Patrick than a demigod. I mean, look at him; his body type is like…something between Dorito and spanakopita.” You laugh, and Stiles squeezes you closer to his side, tangles your legs together, and kisses the tip of your nose like he just can’t help himself. “Story goes, Andromeda's mom royally pissed off Poseidon, so he sent a sea monster to destroy her kingdom—as one does when someone’s talking shit.”

“Naturally,” you hum as you reach for the hand he has cupped around your waist. 

“Naturally,” Stiles agrees, nodding against the crown of your head. You try not to get too distracted by the length of his fingers, bending them and straightening them out one at a time, as he carries on with the story, “So Andromeda’s mom is up there with the titans of bad parents—like right next to Vader and every Disney step-mom ‘cause she fuckin’ ties Andromeda to a rock as a sacrifice for the mo—” He sucks in a shallow breath through his teeth when you start kissing along the row of his knuckles, first little soft brushes that almost tickle and then a few lingering ones that wet his skin. He swears again and ever-so slowly shifts his hips against the thigh tucked between his legs. You take pity on him and rest your entwined hands in the small gap between your breastbone and his ribs. His exhale is warm against your forehead, “Obviously, Perseus swoops in at the last minute, slays the beast, gets the girl, etcetera, etcetera.”

Humming, you tip your chin up against his chest and look at him through your lashes, “What happens during etcetera, etcetera?” 

“I think,” Stiles rolls over so that he’s on top of you, bracing his weight on his forearms, caging you in delightfully close to his broad chest, “something like this.”

You forget about the game for a minute when he starts mouthing at your skin with just the right amount of teeth. His hair, adorably messy and sticking up in little patches from your fingers, tickles the hinge of your jaw. “Didn’t Perseus kill Medusa?” you mumble, head tipping back into the mattress, eyes closed. 

“Uh,” Stiles keeps kissing along your neck, obviously distracted by the hitches in your breath and the soft sighs you let out when he breathes against spit-slick skin, “yeah?”

You can feel the heaviness of his whine against your mouth when you pull away, blinking up at him with big, round eyes—the picture of innocence. A little lamb, an unplucked daisy, a gossamer butterfly wing, entirely unaware of the raging hard-on pressed against your inner thigh. His skin is warm through his shirt, so warm you feel it on your legs when you wrap them around his waist. “While she was sleeping?”

“Uh huh,” Stiles slides a hand up your thigh. The other one is pressed into the mattress, and the muscles in his forearm flex under his full weight. You’re pretty sure he’d agree with anything you say like this.

Unfortunately for the pulsing between your legs, you’ve fallen victim to your own ruse. Your head tilts as you recall all the unsavory details of the Medusa myth, “After she was literally assaulted by his dad?”

Stiles drops his head against your chest and groans, “You’re killing me, baby.”

You grin and curl your fingers in his hair, petting him gently and squeezing your thighs against his hips, “Tell me another one.”

He sighs and rolls over, starfishing his right arm and leg over the edge of the bed with a dramatic flop. “We’ll skip Orion and the seven girls he stalked.”

“Smart choice,” you hum and snuggle into his side. His chest is firm from hours of trying to lift enough to play lacrosse with werewolves, but it still makes for a nice pillow. Stiles’s fingers find their way into your hair, and you swallow back the purr rising in your throat for his sake. He’s been so good for you, after all. You don’t want the torture to be too painful.

“And the swan-fucker,” he adds, scratching lightly at your scalp.

“What?”

Stiles ignores your wide eyes, smirking, and continues playing with your hair, “Altair and Vega. That’s a good one.” In the blanket of darkness and under the strain of yearning, his voice sounds soft and crackly, like one of those singers in the black and white movies, the ones that dance with the microphone. “Starts with a gorgeous, sexy, incredibly charitable goddess falling for a lowly mortal,” his grin is sly as he hikes your thigh over his, squeezing just under your ass, “a lot like us.”

“Boo. Awful.” You pull a face as he drops a flurry of kisses over your cheeks, nose, chin—your laughing mouth, “Disgusting. I’m disgusted.” 

His fingers dip into the waistband of your leggings, tauntingly close to just where you want him, “You don’t feel disgusted.”

Now, that won’t do. You’re just getting started. You trap his hand with your thighs and tap your finger against the slope of his upturned nose, “Finish the story.” 

Stiles whines a little and then sighs, returning the palm of his hand to the little dip above your hip. “Her dad is disgusted that she wants to bring a loser human home, so he turns them into stars on opposite sides of the galaxy.”

Frowning, you squint at the collection of stars he’d pointed to. They don’t look so far apart on his bedroom ceiling. “That’s…depressing.”

“It’s not over yet,” Stiles pulls on your hair and does his best to look annoyed, but the nip to your bottom lip feels far more like a reward than a punishment, “hush.” He waits a minute for you to comply—or, more likely, not comply—and you settle back on his chest and arch your brow, waiting. He arches his brow right back and then keeps going, “One day a year, on the seventh day of the seventh month, Altair fills the galaxy with his tears, and every bird in the sky makes a bridge with their wings so that they can spend one more night together.”

The corner of your mouth tugs into a little grin, “That is a good one.” You trace little patterns on his bicep, little swirls and stars, and rest your chin on his shoulder so that you can see his pretty face, “But just for the story. Only one night a year would kill me.”

“Baby,” Stiles clicks his tongue against the back of his teeth and shakes his head like he's disappointed, bottom lip jutting out slightly from under his top, “it'd take a helluva lot more than a couple light-years and an immortal father-in-law to keep me from getting to you.” 

It’s such a line, but the dopey grin he gives you while he says it somehow makes it charming. Maybe you’re just a little bit lovesick. Okay, maybe a lot. “You can kiss me n—”

He’s on you before you can finish, but you don’t mind being interrupted when he's slanting his mouth against yours just right and groaning into your sighs with a gravelly pitch that makes your toes curl. “Fuck me,” Stiles sighs. He dips back in before you can quip something bratty, something that would definitely earn you another yank on your hair—later perhaps. 

You straddle his waist, sit back in the cradle of his pelvis, and lace your fingers together on the mattress against the sides of his head. He whimpers. You curse. “Off,” you mutter against his mouth, tugging petulantly on the hem of his t-shirt. Stiles is quick to comply, like always, but the fabric gets stuck around his shoulders. You let him struggle for a minute, just long enough to hear more of those petulant little whines. When you finally help him wrangle his shirt over his head, you’re up close and personal with his mouth. His lips are pretty—swollen, pink, and shiny with salvia and your lip balm—and you’re filled with the overwhelming urge to bite. You toss his shirt somewhere on the floor behind you and lean down, your chest pressed against his. You can feel his heartbeat stutter, like a rabbit in a trap, when you stroke your thumb over his bottom lip. It’s soft and wet against your finger, and you sigh high in your throat, “Pretty.”

His chest warms, and you wish you had more light to admire the flush spreading from his neck to his cheeks. You know it’s pink and pretty too, but you’d enjoy seeing the proof. “Pretty?” Stiles echoes, cocking his head slightly, and slides his hands from your ass to your hips. He continues his path along the sides of your ribcage with the bottom of your sweatshirt bunched between his fingers.

“Pretty,” you nod, sharp and definitive. You sit up a little so that Stiles can pull your hoodie off, and then it’s lost to the dark abyss. Frankly, you aren’t that worried about if you ever see it again. You can always steal another one after you’re done. 

He shakes his head and runs his hands over your torso, your collarbones, your stomach, just under your tits—he can’t see that well in the dim light, so he’s damn well going to see you the only way he can. “Pretty,” Stiles groans, cupping your tits and gently thumbing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your cotton bra. It’s simple, white, unadorned by lace or a pattern—and it’s sexier than it has any right to be, he thinks. He’s eager to rip it off.

You shudder through the entire length of your spinal column, through all the nerves attached, and arch into his touch, “Yeah?” 

He coos, and your nipples pebble in response. It’s embarrassing but soon forgotten when Stiles cups your face, big hands encompassing almost the entire length of your jaw, and whispers, “Pretty girl. My pretty baby.” 

It’s even more embarrassing how quickly you feel your underwear dampen under the scrutiny of some simple praise. Now, you’re whining, and he’s letting out a string of guttural, “Fuck,”s as you grind down against the increasingly painful bulge in his jeans. Your nails leave little pink lines along the sculpted v of his pelvis, just deep enough to sting a bit—enough to send his head back towards his shoulders. He sits up a little more so that he can grip your hips, holding them still as he catches his breath, and you’re only a little ashamed of the way you mewl his name in protest. Stiles shuts you up with a kiss and shakes his head, “Can’t come in my pants like I’m 17 again. That’s the worst possible ending to our constellation. Like a 1/10, definitely certified rotten.”

You grin against his throat, and he swallows at the sharp press of your teeth. “Oh, I don’t think that’s the worst ending. Wouldn’t the worst be the one where you don’t come at all?” 

Stiles’s fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you down firmly against his lap, like he’s scared you’ll get up and leave him with a weeping cock and teary eyes. “Baby, don’t even joke about that. That’s a billion times worse than letting a sea monster rip me in half.”

“Guess you can split me in half then,” you shrug a little, and Stiles goes taut under you, fingertips flexing into the small of your back, “unless you want me to tie you to a rock. I’d be into that.”

He growls in your ear, nipping at your jaw and flipping you onto your back. You laugh, a little breathless, as you bounce back on the mattress from the force of it. “Definitely wanna split you in half,” Stiles mutters as he shucks off his pants and kneels at the edge of his bed. He starts peeling back your leggings, taking his time to kiss each sliver of skin revealed to him despite the urgency in his eyes, despite the ache in his white-knuckled grip on the buttery martial of your bottoms. “Gonna wreck you,” Stiles promises as he brushes his lips over your ankle a few times. His words are filthy, but his eyes are honey-sweet and lit with nothing but complete and utter devotion—like you really are a goddess in the sky. You’re already wrecked, probably have been since he kissed you for the first time, entirely ruined for anyone else.

“Did’ya know that Vega is brighter than Altair,” he says, quiet and reverent as he drops your leggings. You blink at him, a bit dumbly, but it’s his own fault for trying to have a conversation while he’s sliding your legs over his shoulders and fiddling with the hem of your underwear. “By, like, 5 places? I think? That’s us too—can’t even look at you sometimes,” he hums, warm against your wet cunt, and hooks his thumbs around your panties. You shudder, and he smiles. You aren’t quite sure if he’s talking to you or to the glistening flesh he reveals when he yanks the baby pink cotton to the side. Either way, you understand his dilemma. It’s torture to watch him sometimes. You have to close your eyes when the pink tip of his tongue darts out, wetting his lip, tasting the air. 

There’s a sigh. So soft. Really more of an exhale, and you aren’t sure where it came from. It could’ve been you, or him, or the stars. “You talk a lot,” this time you know the sigh is coming from you. 

Stiles smirks a little and slips his thumb inside your panties, swiping through your slick folds like he’s fingerpainting, “Is that a complaint?”

Your hips stutter, and his other hand is quick to clamp down on your skin, stopping any attempts to skitter away from his light touch. “I love it when you talk,” you hum, leaning up onto your elbows so that you can watch him work. He grins up at you, almost shy, and presses down against your clit. A wet gasp bursts through swollen lips as your back arches, and Stiles isn’t so shy when he bends down to drop a gentle kiss over his thumb. “But I, uh,” you brush your fingers through the dark hair flopping over his forehead and squeeze your eyes shut when his kisses become kitten licks, “I also love it when you use your mo—” His finger (his long, gifted finger) slides into your cunt with an embarrassing squelch, and his lips wrap around your clit as he sucks. “That,” you whine, back arching a little until Stiles spreads his fingers over your stomach and presses down, “I also love it when you do that.” 

His laugh vibrates deliciously against all the places he’s trying to devour, and you think it wouldn’t be such a bad way to go—being eaten alive by your gorgeous boyfriend. He pulls back to slip another finger in your pussy, spreading them just enough to burn in the best way, and then he’s prodding at the spot inside you that sends a jolt up your spine—makes your fingers wind in the bedspread, pull on his hair, fly to your mouth when you start to cry a little. It didn’t used to be like this. Sex. Getting fingered, fucked, even eaten out—it never felt like this before him. It’s…overwhelming, sometimes. Most of the time, actually. You keep waiting to get used to it, for the newness, the discovery of it all, to wear off. Hasn’t happened yet. You don’t think it ever will. Certainly not tonight. 

“Good?” Stiles licks his lips, at the glistening corners of his mouth, and you toss your head back—overwhelmed. “Good,” he concludes, and he’s not even smug about it. More like he’s making a note in one of his case files, something to look back on later when he needs it. He’s quick about getting what little remains of your clothes off, and when he crawls on top of you, you’re immensely grateful for it. Skin on skin, nothing quite like it. Quick romps in the jeep, up against alley walls, the sink of the occasional bar bathroom—all fun, but not nearly as satisfying as being completely pressed against his naked body, completely caged in by his large frame. Sappy, maybe, but it feels dirty when he drags the tip of his cock through your folds. When he bumps against your clit, you mewl and dig your nails into his back. He sucks in sharply and buries his face in the crook of your neck, “There’s a condom in th—”

“Forget it,” you whimper, carding your fingers through his hair. It’s a little sweaty where it meets his neck, and it’s so soft, and thick, and perfect, and—he’s stopped breathing against your neck. 

He groans from a place deep in his gut, deeper actually, and his arms shake, “Are you su—”

“Yes,” you nod rapidly and wrap your legs around him, arms too, and your fingers join in on the clinging when they twist in his hair. “Absolutely. 1000%. Please don’t make me say please.”

He lets out a little laugh that stirs the hair framing your face, and he traces your cheekbone, barely touching your skin. Your head swims with the look in his eyes: amber, warmth, and worship, “But you’re just so pretty when you beg.” Not that you’ve ever had to for long. Stiles gives you anything you want if you ask him the right way. If you look at him with big, wet eyes, if you jut out your lower lip just so—wet as well, the little lick of your tongue is part of it; that took him months to figure out—he crumbles. He’s said many times that better men than he have fallen victim to far less beautiful schemes. 

Stiles kisses the pout off your lips and nudges the tip of his nose over yours, grinning like a drunken idiot, “Told’ya, baby. Not a light-year, definitely not a little latex.” His grin slides into a little ‘o’ when you slither your hand between your bodies and grip his cock, sliding the first inch into your cunt, impatient. “F-fuck—fuck-ing hell,” he grunts and takes over for you, squeezing your hip until it starts to hurt a little. You’d say something, but then he’d stop—and you like the way it aches. You like knowing there will be a bruise. He’ll fret over it later, kiss each mottled spot better a million times, and you like that too. You like being taken care of, almost as much as he likes taking care of you. 

When he bottoms out, when his pelvic bone ruts up against you, a long, drawn out whimper spills through your pout. “Yeah? Feels good, baby?” Stiles watches your face closely, brushes away the hair sticking to your forehead, and drops a few kisses on your shut eyelids. You nod, and nod, and nod, until he stops you with another kiss to your lips. He kisses you slowly, presses his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you sigh. The kiss quickly becomes wet and filthy, and you’d be embarrassed by the sound of your tongues sliding together if you could actually hear it. At the moment, all you can hear is his cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy—and that’s definitely sending a dizzying heat up your neck. You don’t worry about it for long when his hips shift and he starts hitting that spot inside you again. After that, neither of you can hear anything over your squealing. Stiles kisses away the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes and licks his lips, chasing the taste. “Right there, huh?” You babble an incoherent answer, and he strokes your hair and noses at your cheek, “Yeah, right there. I know. It’s okay.” 

Stiles slides his hands under your back and sits up, taking you with him. The new angle is impossibly deep, and you bite down on his shoulder and wind your arms around his neck to keep yourself there. With him. In the moment. “It’s okay, baby. I got you, promise,” he squeezes your hips, and despite his reassurances and the strength of his grip, you know he’s falling apart too. He’s close. You can feel it. His hips stutter a little, change direction, lose their dedicated pace—and it’s perfect because you’re right there with him. It’s been building for a while, probably since he led you by hand to his room, maybe even before that when he smirked at you behind his cup of tequila and (mostly) pineapple juice. 

You cry a little and bite down on your bottom lip, hard. Stiles kisses the sting away, and your eyes screw shut as you start babbling again, “I’m—”

He kisses you again and lifts his hands from your hips to cup your face, thumbing along your bottom lip when he pulls back—not far, just enough to look at your face, shiny with sweat and tears. “I know,” he stills for a moment, pausing the movement of his hips so that he can just feel you pulsing around him for a moment, “me too.” You aren’t sure if you want to hit him or kiss him for stopping, but you don’t have the strength to do either when he starts what must be his final round of thrusts. It has to be—you’re a few seconds away from collapsing or coming, whichever comes first. When Stiles moans your name in your ear, soft and high like he does when he’s right there, and he slides his hand down your stomach to rub firm circles on your clit, you’re happy it’s your orgasm that happens first. Your abs convulse a little as you twitch around him, and you curl in on yourself as much as you can with Stiles in the way. He’s not in the way for long. Growling, he shoves you back against the bed and mumbles, “Where?” after a few sloppy thrusts. 

You mewl as he keeps the pressure on your clit, reach for his wrist and try to pull his hand away, but he’s determined and you’re tired. You twitch and throw your head back, whimpering, “Inside,” before you can think better of it. It’s his fault, you’ll decide later, for prolonging your high with his mean, unforgiving, wonderful thumb. 

He’ll blame you, for feeling so perfect around him—for fluttering, and leaking, and trembling better than…anything he’s ever seen in porn, and he’s watched...a lot of it, so he’s a bit of an expert on the cinematic orgasm. “You’re so fuckin—you,” he shakes his head against your heaving chest and groans, “you’re everything.” And when he finally comes in you, you’re okay with taking the blame for something that feels so good. He manages a few more thrusts, and then he finally lets you pull his hand away from your cunt when he collapses onto his forearms, barely holding himself up from crushing you with his full weight. You’d tell him to roll over, but then he’d be over there and not in you, so you put up with the sweat and heaviness while your head spins. 

“Baby?” Stiles hums noncommittally in response to your soft prodding, and you smirk against the top of his head. All the smugness leaves you when you finally feel the foreign sensation of his cum leaking out of you. Shuddering, you kiss his hair a few times and scratch up and down his back lightly until he’s able to breathe normally. He pushes himself up onto his arms and glances down when he pulls out, staring for a moment at the way your pussy gapes a bit, watching the trickle of cum drip down your folds and onto the bed. He rubs his hand over his jaw and licks his lips, shaking his head—at a loss for words for the first time in his life. Your tongue is a little thick when you fill the void for him, “Next time, towel first.”

He finds it within himself to tear his eyes away from your cunt and gives you a crooked little grin, “Next time?”

You roll your eyes, but your grin is stupid with affection, “Sure, next time. Maybe. If you’re good.” 

It’s a little disgusting, the way he just rolls over and pulls you on top of him with absolutely no regard for the various bodily fluids sticking to your skin, but you forget about the unpleasantness of drying cum and cooling sweat when he kisses you. “I’m always good,” he huffs against your cheek. You shoot him a look, brows arched and eyes narrowed, and he smirks, “Okay, maybe not, but I’m always good for you.”

You nuzzle in a little closer and scoff, but it’s true. Stiles is so good, always—especially for you. “I guess you did manage to woo me. You’re very sexy when you’re talkin’ astrology, you know that?” 

He smiles, wide and happy, and wiggles his brows, “An absolute banger of an ending, right? I don’t think they could chart it in the stars without ruining your pretty face, but that’s probably for the best.” Stiles brushes his fingers over your lips when you let out a little questioning hum and takes your hand, growling playfully as he nibbles at your fingertips, “You’re mine. Nobody’s allowed to see you like this but me—definitely not horny little nerds with their telescopes.” 

You grin and bump your nose against his, “You’re a horny little nerd with a telescope.”

Stiles tips his head with a sly grin, and you already know what he’s going to say—it’s still devastatingly adorable when he whispers, “No, I’m your horny little nerd with a telescope.” 

Adorable enough to make you consider pulling him into the shower with you, and if the heavy-lidded look he’s giving you is anything to go by, you’d say he agrees.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Oh Dearest Horror I would love to go on a multi day winter hike with you ❤️❤️❤️

"warm?"

Horror's voice was so very soft. With your back against his chest, you could feel it pleasantly reverberating through your whole body.

How could you be any warmer? Though your breaths escaped in puffs of steam, you were cuddled in his lap, your hood pulled down over your head. You wore a heavy knitted sweater lined with fur and cotton, a blanket Horror had carried the whole way wrapped snugly around you, his own huge arms tucked around your middle, and his massive thick wings laid over the top like your very own fluffy down blanket. Snowflakes still speckled the mottled browns and blacks. He was so comfy - he felt so secure, he smelled like delicious cooked meat and home. With how snuggled you were against him, you couldn't have possibly felt more secure or safe.

"Yes." You assured, rubbing the thumb of your gloved hand over the forearm locked around your middle. "I'm very very warm."

He purred, gently. It was like sitting in a massage chair. "ok."

You looked up, admiring the scenery. Horror always knew the best places. But this place was particularly nice. He'd led you into a forest of willow trees, their branches frozen in a way you'd never seen before - rather than being loaded with snow, they were laden with droplets of clear ice that twinkled like a sea of hanging crystals. He eventually settled into a clearing, laying down his bags and setting out a tarp so he could sit with his back against a tree.

He had invited you to sit beside him. You picked his lap instead.

"This place is beautiful." Years of wandering in his free time had made him intimately familiar with a landscape not many dared to see. You felt flattered every time he expressed that he wanted you to join him on his hikes. "I'm glad you brought me here."

"just wait," he murmured. "trust me."

You didn't need to be told twice. You nestled against him, eyes getting heavy. Comfortable silence covered the two of you, like just another lovely blanket.

After a little while, the aurora started to emerge from the sky. It snaked across the darkness above you, a ghostly flickering slowly gaining power and colour - a trickle increasing into a stream, then a river, then a silent rushing current of green fire full of its usual glory. You watched it in quiet, cosy delight.

Something in the corner of your vision. A twinkling. At first, you thought it might just be the aurora into the backs of your eyes. But it was too sharp for that. You stopped watching the sky, glancing down to the surrounding forest instead.

The ice hanging from the trees was beginning to glimmer. You drew in a breath. The light was catching in the icicles; they were all beginning to twinkle, new stars emerging from the once-dark woods surrounding you.

... Then the aurora gained strength. And the icicles started to reflect.

You gasped; every icicle that could see the sky was shining, casting sparkles of blue and green onto the snow below, a ring of coloured flecks that slowly shifted and circled as the aurora moved. Like a sunrise, the collective glow of the reflections began to set the whole forest alight - all around you, light and colours, rainbows as far as your eyes could see. A sea of stars across the snow, casting away into the distance.

There were two night skies. One above, and one all around you.

Horror seemed to like your reaction. He nestled his chin onto the top of your head, purring just that bit more.

"knew... you'd like this."

"I-I do," you replied, unable to look away from the lights. It was like being inside a gemstone. "I really do. How did you... know about this place?"

You felt his warm breath across your hair. "found it. thought of you."

"So we're the only ones who know this is here?"

"mhm."

"It's magical."

"s'ours."

You leant back against his chest, breathless. "Can we stay here until the aurora sets?"

A hum of affirmation.

You wriggled somewhat - you tugged one of your gloves off and poked your bare hand out from under the blanket. Still beneath his wings, you found the large clawed hand of the big comfy arm wrapped around you, touching the top of his palm.

He let out a sound you'd come to call his 'happy grumble'. To the untrained ear, it seemed like a growl. But it was a sound of unfiltered delight.

He turned his hand over, and enclosed yours in his own.

You stayed like that, as close to 'hand in hand' as the two of you could get... even well after you'd already fallen asleep.

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 13

Kinktober Masterlist pulvis et umbra sumus - "we are dust and shadow" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > monsters, knotting, ritual magic sex in a cave Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Monster AU where the TF141 are gargoyles. You love your shitty 87th floor apartment, you really do. Sure, the view is mostly fog and smog and clouds, but your balcony is shielded by four awesome gargoyles. You spend long nights admiring their statuesque figures wishing they could come to life and please you since no human man seems to be able to. Be careful what you wish for, I guess?

Warning: short part with an abusive ex-boyfriend, but he gets gargoyled pretty quickly, so it's short-lived.

Rain pelted the grimy, floor-to-ceiling windows of your apartment. It seemed like it was always raining. You loved living downtown in District 10, you really did, but damn if it wasn’t hard to meet people. Sure, millions of people lived in the city right alongside you, but other than a few dates to the ramen shop around the corner, your attempts to find The One had fallen flat. 

It was the same song and dance. They’d ask what you did for a living, and if they stuck around after you told them that you were a professional streamer, they either thought you were rich or that you wanted to flash your pussy on camera for money. Either way, the only guys who stuck around after they made their judgements about your job were either disappointed by your shitty studio apartment or were terrible in the sack. Clearly, they just wanted an easy lay and never called you again. 

You didn’t really have anyone to complain to since your best friend abandoned you for Topeka, of all places, to get married and have a litter of babies. You were happy for her, truly, but bitching to a woman who was cherished by her man about your shitty Tinder dates was a dark, dark time that you didn’t care to have. 

So, you smoked, and you told your gargoyles all about it. 

Your apartment was unique in the fact that you had the entire patio to yourself, and it was shielded from the wind by the outstretched wings of four enormous gargoyles. They were huge, at least seven feet tall, and their bodies looked like they were ready to compete in the next strongman world championship. 

You’d named them all, of course. There was the spooky one with a skull-shaped mask over his face and huge fangs that you called Mr. Bones, one with a mohawk that you named Mr. T, a supermodel-hot statue that you named Mr. Vain, and your favorite one, the biggest of them all and the guardian that sat right next to your bed, Mr. Big.

That’s where you found yourself tonight. You were crouched in your usual spot, tucked in an oversized raincoat, a pair of wellies, and nothing else, smoking a cigarette under the protective wings of Mr. Big.

You watched the tip glow golden bright as you took a drag, holding it in longer than normal, hoping to feel something other than disappointed. 

“He was such a jerk, Big. Didn’t even bring a condom. Not sure someone with a dick that small should have that sort of audacity, ya know?”

Mr. Big didn’t reply. He looked out over the dense, foggy night and shielded you from the rain, keeping you dry while you smoked.

You leaned against his chest as he crouched over you, raking your eyes over his body with more appraisal than you usually did, confessing aloud,

“I bet you’ve got cock for days under that loincloth. And I bet you’d pay for a babe’s dinner. Maybe even buy her a strawberry shake afterwards. Bet you wouldn’t ask to come up; you’d just wait to be invited. And I bet you’d bring your own damn condoms to a third date, huh?”

He loomed. You sighed,

“Yeah, I know you would. You know what?”

At that very moment, you gazed up into the sky as the clouds shifted and cleared, revealing a heavy, orange harvest moon. You spotted a streak of falling stars out of the corner of your eye, and you watched as they crossed the moon’s body, falling towards earth, burning up a million miles away, and you said,

“I wish you guys were real.”

You watched the stars vanish over the horizon, and you took one last drag off of your cigarette, flinging it off the side like a nasty little gremlin, not caring where it landed or what catastrophe you had just contributed to. This whole world was fucked. What was one more cigarette butt, right?

“But, you’re not real, Mr. Big. Maybe one day you’ll wake up and come save me from this damn carousel of nightmares. You and your buddies could fly me around, give me a mindblowing fuck, and steal me away from here. Wouldn’t that be something?”

You stood up next to him, barely tall enough to reach his face even though he was crouched over. You caressed his cheek, wiping the raindrops from his brow, and lifted yourself up to kiss him on the corner of his bearded mouth, right where his fang protruded from the lip, round and sharp like a boar’s tusk.

“Goodnight, Mr. Big. See you in the morning.”

You toweled dry as you stepped through the window, using the same old towel you’d been using all week, making a mental note to get around to the laundry. Then, you snuggled under the covers, checking your notifications and getting upset that there weren’t more (even though you’d just checked them before you went out to smoke). Maybe you would have to start flashing your tits online if you wanted to make the real bucks.  

You flipped your phone over and went to sleep, begging your brain to give you filthy gargoyle dreams. 

Once dawn’s glow yanked you from your peaceful slumber, you’d forgotten all about why you’d been so sad. You forgot about Dan, or David (Darren?), whatever his name was. You hopped online and said hi to your early birds, fitting the headphones over your ears just to let them know you’d be back in a bit. Then, you had a quick shower, ducked out for half of a smoke, and got to work. 

The day turned into night, and everything was great. The games were fun, chat was a riot, and you even got raided by one of your favorite mutuals. You ordered some takeout and video-chatted with some friends. You even hopped on the stream again for a double feature. All the darkness from the night before was lifted, and you felt like you might be alright. But, then, just as the sun was setting, you got a text. 

donny-Hinge: hey babe. left my charger. can i come by in 15

you: sure

donny-Hinge: k thx

“Ugh!” You audibly exclaimed, forgetting you were still online.

Chat started pouring in with questions and asks about the text. Tell us! They exclaimed. What happened, momma?? They begged to know. 

You thought about it for a minute, but you decided that your shitty love life was one thing you weren’t ready to own up to online, so you side-stepped, 

“Forgot I had to take a friend to the airport. Gotta cut this short tonight, sorry. Love you guys! Don’t forget to live, laugh, love, like, share, sub!” You rolled your eyes at your own catchphrase and waved goodbye. 

You flung down your headset and did a few soothing spins in your computer chair before deciding that you needed to kick this dude to the curb. 

“What’s the sluttiest outfit I’ve got so this asshole knows what he’s missing?” You asked Mr. Vain who was sitting outside your bathroom window, looking bored. 

“Coachella last year?” You dug around in the drawer and pulled out the too-short, can’t-wear-this-in-public slip dress, looking at Mr. Vain one last time before nodding, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

You wiggled into the fit, mangled up your hair into a careless rumpled mess, and threw on some eyeliner to top it all off. Then, you waited. You checked your phone. You waited again. You paced. Then, you had a smoke to try and calm your nerves. 

You huddled next to Mr. Big’s giant forearm and looked up at his bearded jaws from below,

“Still not real, huh? I could really use a big, scary beast for some support right now. Why does breaking up with losers still feel so shitty? He doesn’t deserve me, right?”

Mr. Big said nothing. He loomed, and nothing more. 

“Right,” you whispered, starting to worry about yourself now that you were carrying on multiple daily conversations with statues. 

Your door buzzed. Dumbo was here for his charger. 

You fixed yourself, checking your eyeliner for just the perfect amount of smudge, and then you cracked open the door. The man was there, looking a little too well-dressed, and he sauntered into your apartment without saying so much as a hello. 

“Uh, hi,” you spat. 

“Hey, sorry,” he frowned, looking around for the charger under your clothes pile, “Can’t stay. Gonna meet up with the boys at Six Hands tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling a little more than just put out. 

“Ah, here it is,” he dragged the charger out from under your desk and wrapped it up. 

“I don’t wanna see you again,” you blurted out. 

He looked up at you, noticing you for the first time, eyeing your dress and your makeup, furrowing his brow,

“Why not? Didn’t you have fun last night?” 

You didn’t like his sly tone,

“No, so just, lose my number, okay?”

“C’mon, baby. Don’t be like that,” he stepped into your space and put your hair behind your ear. You fucking hated when guys tucked your hair behind your ear. 

You smacked his hand away, 

“Don’t touch me. Just go.”

“Is that why you’re dressed like a fuckin’ slut? You gonna call some other guy up here?” His contempt filled the room, making your alarm bells clatter and peal inside of your head. 

“No. Leave! Now.”

“Listen,” he took another step into your space, dragging his finger under the strap of your dress and purposefully letting it fall off of your shoulder, “How about you drop the attitude and let me hit it before I go out, and I’ll come back tonight and we can watch a movie.”

You used both hands to shove him away from you, hating how little he moved backwards,

“Fuck you! Get out of my house.”

“You don’t have to be such a bitch!” He shouted at you, grabbing you around the wrist and knocking you off balance. 

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. His face became even paler than it already was, and he stared out of the window behind you. He scrambled to drop your wrist and bolted for the door, not even bothering to shut it behind him. 

“Yeah! You shouted after him, fixing your shoulder strap, “Get the hell out and don’t come back!”

You shut the door and locked the top and bottom deadbolts, upset with yourself for how badly you were shaking. 

“What an asshole,” you muttered under your breath as you turned around. Then, you looked up, and that’s when you saw him.

“Mr. Big?!”

The giant, hulking gargoyle that you sat by every night was standing, full height, right outside your window. He used his immense paw to open the window and stepped through it, staring right at you with unnaturally blue eyes. He was still not a human color, but at least he wasn’t made of stone. His flesh was textured, sort of scaled in a way, and hairline cracks that looked like scars covered him like a broken eggshell. His hair and beard were shaggy and brown, and even though he was enormous, he was graceful, tucking his black wings behind his back to keep from knocking over all of your shelves. 

“Are you alright, love?” His voice came out like a roaring, tumbling sea, and yet, it was as gentle as a purr. 

“I… This… You! You are! You’re… you’re a statue! How…” You backed away from him, and he did not pursue you. He simply stood there, focused on you, patiently letting you figure it out, “You’re Mr. Big, and you’re in my damn house!”

“I am John. We come when our mate calls to us.”

“What? John? No,” you sat on the bed, wrenching your eyes shut, “This isn’t happening. Fuck, I actually am out of my mind. I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford fucking gargoyle visions. Fuck!”

You heard the flutter of wings and your eyes darted up to see Mr. T and Mr. Bones squeezing themselves into your tiny home,

John nodded to them,

“This is Soap and Ghost. Your memories will return to you, my love,” he turned to address them, “Did you find him?”

Ghost let out a dark chuckle full of fire and brimstone, 

“Aye, he screamed like a fuckin’ pussy.”

“Who?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

Soap answered you in a surprisingly smooth brogue, 

“Your wee suitor, lass. Tried to run, but he couldnae get very far.”

“Did…” You felt your blood rush out of your body, “Did you kill him?”

Ghost, his skin a steely gray with black cracks running across his flesh, his wings a bony ash color and splotched with tears and scars, his eyes an impossible hazel shade, gleaming behind the huge skull mask, stalked over to you, crouching down to look at you closer, studying you. Then, he took his clawed hand and untucked the hair from behind your ear, lifting your locks to his fearsome muzzle to smell your shampoo. He smiled (you weren’t exactly sure if it was a smile or not), and said,

“Would you like me to? Because, right now, he’s hanging off the side of a fuckin’ tanker ship headed for the bloody south Pacific. He’d be easy to capture and –”

“No! No,” you shook your head, “Thank you. That’s… that is a great spot for him. Alive.”

“You must have questions, pet,” a fourth voice spoke over your shoulder, startling you and making you jump out of your skin, “Surely you must remember me; your Gaz, your favorite.”  

It was Mr. Vain. The others gave him a glare for his comment, but he did have a way of stealing the show. His skin was a shimmering copper, and golden cracks cut through his flesh. His wings were an iridescent green patina, and his eyes were a deep brown. He was every bit as beautiful in real life as he’d been as a statue, and you had a hard time looking away from him. 

“I’m…” You tried to ask something. Anything. You should have questions, right? Normal people would have questions. Finally, you whispered, “What is happening to me?”

John came to crouch beside you, his thick tail curling around his feet, tucking itself out of the way, and he dropped his voice into that deep purr of his,

“You called us here, love. You needed us, and we were awakened. We have listened to your struggles. For years we have kept you safe in this…” He looked around with a frown of disapproval, “... bloody meager estate, waiting for the night you would bring us back to this plane of existence to mate with you and take you home to claim your rightful place on the throne of Evenhold. Your people need you. We need you. You are the last hope for our kind.”

You listened to him and tried your best to keep a straight face,

“You have got to be fucking with me right now. This is not real. You are not real!”

To your shock, instead of doubling down, he looked hurt by your comments. His eyes peered down at you as if he wanted to make you see the truth, like he wanted to convince you of his words, but he held himself back. 

Soap came over to you, his pale flesh gleaming like a pearl under the moonlight, the cracks of his skin a cerulean blue, and his wings fading from navy to black at the very tips, 

“Bonnie, I ken how it sounds. But, you didnae meet your mother nor your father, aye?”

“No, I grew up with my Grandma Val–”

“Valeria, the Witch of the Four Winds,” Soap confirmed, sitting down beside Ghost, “She protected you until her death. So, you came here, to this city, and –”

“And this apartment… the deal was so good, I couldn’t pass it up,” your brain was reaching around in the dark, looking for the light. It was making your head spin. 

“Did you never wonder how you could afford it, lass? Didnae you remember Darkhollow? The River Binn? Everhold Keep? We ran together as rooks through the halls, stealing burchfruit from the ta–”

John cut him off, his eyes studying you in the darkness,

“Enough. Sorcerer Cael stole her memories the same night he fuckin’ murdered the Emperor and the Empress. She knows nothing of home. But, we can help her remember.”

You reached out to him, touching his cheek in such a familiar way, and yet, experiencing it anew,

“How?”

“We will take you as our mate. Through our magic, you can use our memories to rebuild what you’ve lost,” John cupped your hand in his huge paw, bringing it to his fanged mouth, and kissing your palm reverently. 

“We know that you have been…” Gaz smirked, “... disappointed by suitors in this realm. But, we will help you remember the kind of mate the Empress of Evenhold deserves.” 

“Trust us, lass,” Soap lifted your chin up to look into your face, “We will set things right. We’ll take you home.”

Ghost crawled beside you on the bed, and the mattress dipped beneath his heavy frame, 

“You are our guiding star, love. We’ll do whatever you ask of us. If you want us to leave, we fuckin’ will. Just say the word, and you’ll never see us again.”

At his oath, you felt something twist in your heart. No! That was wrong. You belonged together. These were your protectors. You needed them as much as they needed you.

“No. You belong with me,” you said, planting a soft kiss on the side of Ghost’s mask, “Help me remember.”

“We won’t be back here, love. Are you sure you’re ready to go?” John asked you, standing at full height. 

The others stood with him, waiting for your word. 

You thought about checking your phone, or putting an away message up on your profiles, but what would be the reason? If you wouldn’t be back here, you’d just disappear. You’d fade away from memory just like any other streamer who logged on for the last time and never came back. It happened all the time. Your parents were dead, you didn’t have any family, and your friend would be okay without you. What was keeping you here?

“Let me wash my face, and then we’ll go,” you said, ducking into the bathroom to braid your hair out of your face and wash the eyeliner off of your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long while, you enjoyed looking at the person that you saw. You looked brave. You looked ready. You looked like you were about to have the ride of your fuckin’ life. 

You slid an extra hair tie around your wrist and met the gargoyle army in your bedroom. 

“Okay, I’m ready for the magic mating ritual, I think. Do you wanna do it here, or…”

“No, love,” John chuckled warmly, “We’ll take you to the portal. Your power will ignite the beacon.” 

“Where is that?” You asked, feeling a little deflated. 

“Far from here. C’mon, love. Need to beat the sun,” John grabbed your waist and held you against his chest. He wrapped his tail around your body protectively, and you watched in horror as the other three dove through the window, spreading their wings out over the midnight fog.

“Oh, fuck. Are we flying there? Holy shit! Wait, wait, wait…”

The next thing you knew, you were sailing through the air, gliding down from your bedroom window and out into the night sky. 

“It’s alright, love. Hold onto me,” John chuckled, amused by your panicked response. 

“Fuck!” You whispered, burying yourself in John’s broad chest, clutching at his waist as hard as you could.

You could feel the powerful beat of his wings as he gained altitude, the rush of wind subsiding when you emerged above the clouds, and the moon looked as if it hung close enough for you to grab it, bright and glowing in the black sky. 

You were breathing in rushed gasps, and you didn’t know if you should laugh or cry. John sensed your distress, and he held you tighter against his warm body.

“Shh,” he pet you gently, and you felt his claws trace delicate lines down your back. For some reason, it lulled you into a dazed state, and you thought you might pass out, “Sleep, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”

A few more minutes went by, and with each delicate pass of his claws, you watched the stars scatter above you, more and more of them coming into your view as you escaped from the city, and you closed your eyes and let your guardian take you away with him. 

When you awoke, you were still flying with John, but you were descending on a small hilltop.

“Where are we?” You asked in a low voice. 

John pointed below,

“The portal is here. I’ve sent the lads on ahead to prepare the ritual. We won’t beat the dawn unless we hurry.”

“What happens at dawn?”

“We turn to stone. You’ll be left unprotected.”

“Is that what these are?” You asked, tracing the cracked lines in his skin, “From where you broke free?”

“Yes,” John nodded, “We wear them with fuckin’ pride, love. We’re soldiers. It is our duty and our right to be your guardians.”

“In the… At home, do you turn to stone in the sunlight?”

He paused, and you wished you could hear his thoughts, but after a few moments he said, 

“No, only here.”

Something about his answer saddened you. You wanted to wipe all of that pain away from his face. You needed to see him in the light of day. To see him happy. You felt so strongly about it, and it made you wish that you had called for him sooner. 

“Could you hear me when you were frozen?”

“Yes, love,” he smiled, swooping his wings to land with you on the soft grass, “Every word.” 

He placed you down carefully, and as he did, he bent forward, wrapped his wings around you, and kissed you. You leaned into his touch, enveloped in his dark embrace, feeling the bristle of his beard and the fullness of his lips. He tasted like holiday spices and raw honey. His sweetness and heat blending together on your tongue and making you dizzy with want.  

“Tryin’ to get a head start, Captain?” Gaz’s voice rang out over your shoulder.

You were unfurled from John’s wings and released from his kiss, but he kept a possessive hand around your waist.

“Captain?” You turned to ask him what that meant. 

“We’re soldiers, remember? I’m the Captain of the Imperial Guard. My two sergeants,” he pointed to Gaz and Soap, “and my lieutenant,” he nodded to Ghost. 

“C’mere, love,” Ghost pulled you away from John and brought you over to the entrance of a large cave. 

The mouth of the cave was hidden behind vines and overgrowth, but you could barely make out the ancient carvings that were etched into the side of the round entrance. 

“This is the portal, lass. Your magic opens the door, and we can go home.”

“I don’t know how to do magic,” you looked at him for help. 

“We’ll show you. Let us help you remember, love,” John purred darkly behind you, joining you on the side opposite Ghost, taking your hand and guiding you into the cave. 

Once inside, you saw a large, flat altar, carved with runes and symbols, and all along the back wall of the cave were huge scenes of war and destruction, patterned in gold and silver and bronze etchings. In the images, you saw hordes of gargoyles fighting against an evil wizard who carried a long staff and cast fiery spells across villages and castles, destroying everything in his path. 

But, you couldn’t dwell on the images for long. Your warriors had other plans. John guided you to his arms once more, kissing you chastely this time, before untying his loincloth and revealing his unbelievable cock. 

When he saw the look on your face, his mouth stretched into a smug grin, and he pumped his wings, proudly beating them once and then twice to stir the air in the large cave, purring deep inside his chest. 

His dick wasn’t just large. It was impossible. There was no way that thing was going to fit inside of you without some sort of feat of strength. As the others disrobed, standing beside their leader, you saw how much of a challenge this venture truly was. 

Their cockheads were covered in layers of foreskin that lay across their head like the petals of a flower. They were thin and smooth, and it made the tip of their dick look like the head of a blooming rose. John had more petals than the others, while Gaz had only three or four, but his were large, like a drooping magnolia, hiding the fist-sized glans underneath.

The shaft of John’s cock was studded with smooth, marble-like protrusions, which, as he rubbed his hand over them, swelled and leaked, producing his own lubricant for him as he worked his phallus to a high, glossy shine. On the underside of the body, two soft bands of flesh hung down like lips on a mouth, creating a flared feature along the base of his cock. 

At the root of his shaft, John had a bulging, pulsing knot. It looked like it was throbbing with its own heartbeat, and it wrapped itself around his entire girthy base, making your mouth water.

Their physiology was as unique as it was inhuman. Gaz only had three marble protrusions, none of the soft bands on his undercarriage, but a hefty, engorged knot. Ghost’s cock was board-straight, covered in a chaotic mess of marble bumps, making his whole prick drip and drool onto the cave floor without him even needing to touch it. 

Soap was the only one who had pulled his petals down over his blunt cockhead to reveal it to you. It was bright pink and swollen, looking every bit like a smooth, silky peach. The large slit in the center held a bead of precome, ready to be smeared across either of your lips. His shaft was curved like a bow, and you noticed that the flared flesh at his base looked like a plush bed of fox coral, bending and furling like fine lace on the hem of a dress. 

“Our mate is pleased,” Gaz noted, sniffing the air and licking his fangs with a skillful tongue. 

You made your way over to John, eyeing Gaz as he tugged on his giant ballsack, fondling his heavy pearls and comforting himself as he admired you. John was breathing hard, his belly filling with air, his rolling purr growing louder as you got closer to him. 

You knelt on the soft dirt floor of the cave and began to lick and suck at the knot on the base of John’s cock. He growled, flapping his wings with excitement, 

“No, love,” he peered down at you, “Let us care for you.”

“I want to taste you,” you looked at the other beasts circling around you, casting long shadows over you with the shuddering wings, “All of you.”

“Your wish is our command, Empress,” Ghost snarled, fisting his cock in his claws and presenting it to you like a treat. 

You used both of your hands to rub his shaft, letting his silky lube collect in your palms and drip down your wrists. You began prying his soft petals apart with the tip of your tongue, discovering how sensitive they were. By the time you found his head, he was drooling wet for you, filling the center of his flower with clear, shining precome. You drank from him, sucking the sticky fluid like nectar from a buttercup, sighing when you found it sweet. 

John chuffed, impatient with his lieutenant for cutting the line, and you looked up at him and smiled, showing him your tongue as it dripped with Ghost’s wet promises. Then, you brought your attention back to your biggest guardian, taking care to use both hands to roll the flesh of his shaft up and down the hefty appendage. You let your thumb dip into his furled folds that ran along his base, and he hissed, instinctively using his paw to cradle the back of your head and encourage you further. 

You obeyed his silent command, using your lips to kiss inside of his crown of closed petals, slurping and drinking the sweet gift you discovered inside. As you kissed his cockhead, the fleshy flower surrounding his tip tickled your lips and nose and chin, spreading their honey over your whole face, coating you in him and his heady scent. 

Gaz reached down to touch your breast inside your dress, his huge claws tickling over the smoothness of your skin, making you gasp. 

“So fuckin’ bonnie, innit she?” Soap admired you, taking position on the other side to fondle and feel your other heavy teat, using his claws to draw aching spirals all the way up to your nipple.

You were fully suckling on John’s wide head, now. He was pouring clear, shining precome down your throat, and you were swallowing it into your belly as if it were his come. Then, Gaz took you from him, guiding your chin over to his hanging prick, smiling at you as you nuzzled it, handsfree, into your lips. His wide petals covered most of your face, spreading his slick over your cheeks and down your throat, sticking themselves to your skin. Then, Johnny took your hand and held it in his own, making you rub his curved length until he was trembling for you. You took turns sucking from them both, realizing that the more you sucked, the more delicious fluid they made. 

John petted your hair lovingly, drawing your attention away from his soldiers and back to him. You looked into his glowing blue eyes, mesmerized by his magic, and gave him your best doe-eyed face, hoping your hunter would take his shot. 

“The sun is nearly here, Empress. There will be plenty of nights to play together ahead of us, but we must open the portal.”

You rose to your feet, shocked by how small you were compared to the monsters that surrounded you, and let John lead you to the altar. He lifted you up and knelt down in front of you, using his long, blue tongue to lick his way up the side of your thigh. When he found your heat, his chest shook with a stifled roar, and he grabbed your hips in his paws to crush you to his face. Ghost stood beside him, peeling off your black slip dress to make you naked, and he and Gaz held your legs wide for their captain. Soap crawled upon the altar to feed his tongue into your mouth, fucking your throat in long, gentle licks just as John stuffed his into your warm pussy. 

Ghost and Gaz suckled from your breasts, pulling and plucking at your nipples in deep, vacuumed mouthfuls, making you feel like you were being eaten alive from the inside and the outside of your whole body. Your orgasm hit your body before your mind registered that you were coming. You jerked, arching your back and screaming out from the base of your throat, begging for mercy. 

Your gargoyles pet you with their claws in that same, somnolent way that John had while you were flying, and you felt yourself relax into your orgasm, riding it out in long, suffocating waves. 

“You are so tight, love,” John looked up from his eating, his eyes full of worry, “We’ll try to be gentle with you, but you will need many nights of training before you can carry our rooks. Your body will learn from us, in time. For now, your memories are all that matter.”

He stood, and the other gargoyles held you tightly, supporting you on the altar. John huffed out a long breath, spread his wings wide, and stepped forward to mount you. 

You watched his cock’s petals as they collided with your own, spreading himself all over you like a brush full of paint. He focused on your hole, smearing his hot precome as generously as he could. Then, he began to press forward. 

“Holy fuck! I can’t take it! I can’t… John… it’s not… mngh! Ohhhh…” You cried out in agony and then melted into a quiet bliss. 

As he entered you, the other three pet you with their paws, soothing you and helping you catch your breath. 

Then, when you took his entire head, he rested at your entrance, waiting for you to come back around.

“John, what the fuck? I’m not built for your dick. How…?” You looked up at him, pleading for some relief. 

“You’re doing so good for us, love,” Gaz licked and kissed your neck and breast, suckling on you to calm you down.

“You can take him,” Ghost held your hand, “His musk will open you up for us. Look at how it’s swelling your pussy, sweetheart.” 

You looked down at yourself, and you saw that Ghost was right. Your pussy was creamy and puffy, soaking in John’s fluids, his musk, and it was helping you relax for him. John stepped forward, slipping in another inch or so, fitting his bent petals through your entrance. Then, with each grueling thrust, you felt the line of marble nodes press against your walls, secreting their lubricant all over your walls and making you drip onto the altar. 

“So good for me,” John groaned, holding your breasts in his hands, stealing them away from Gaz and Soap, squeezing them hard enough to leave pinprick marks with his talons. 

“Anhh– John! I’m…”

“Yes, come again, love. Come for me, remember me…”

Your mind was flung through space and time, spinning and feeding you a chaotic string of memories that didn’t seem like your own. You tasted food and drink you’d never tried, you sang songs you didn’t know, ran full speed across fields full of flowers you’d never smelled. It was maddening, watching you live a life you’d never had. Then, there they were, your four gargoyles, pledging their loyalty to you and your parents, vowing to be your protectors. But, just as your heart filled with hope, there was a great black fire that roared through the halls of your keep, burning the people you loved, destroying the peace in your realm. The Dark Sorcerer, Cael. 

John was pounding away at your body now, and you were shivering from the heightened pleasure. How long had you been out? Your belly felt full of him, and you could see the outline of his shaft as he shoved himself through you, fucking you nearly up into your ribs. You reached down and cradled him outside of your belly, and he moaned from your touch, his heavy balls slapping against your ass in a punishing, deafening rhythm.

Then, you saw John beat his wings again, fighting with his own pleasure. He speared you fully, sealing himself inside of you, and it was at that point that you felt the curling, pulsing pressure of his knot. 

“John… I’m not… I can’t…” You could barely keep your eyes open. 

He gathered you up in his arms, wrapping you tight to his chest, and hugged you to his scalding, scaled flesh. When he breathed against you, his chest filled your space, and you could feel the tremors racking his body. He folded his wings around you, enclosing you in his protective embrace, hiding you in his darkness, and lowered you with his steady, inhuman power onto his throbbing knot. 

Your scream was silent as your breath caught in your throat. You’d been shattered, thrown with supernatural might into a bursting orgasm, forced to come hard onto his swollen, beating shaft. 

He was coming, too, and it filled your walls, making your belly hang heavy with fertile, gargoyle seed. John roared, thrusting himself up into you to grind his knot within your hole, churning his cream within you, and soaking your womb in his come. 

John sighed, bending his neck to kiss your open mouth, petting you with his paws, rubbing his cock through your abdomen with his thumbs. His come moved inside of you as he did so, and you were so stuffed with his hot spend, the moment he began to unseal himself, it sprayed out of you and onto his cock, legs, and the floor of the chamber, turning the dirt to mud. You were gaping wide, dripping in his come, and trembling from brain-breaking orgasms. He didn’t look much better. He was spent, sitting on the ground of the cave, breathing hard and fast. 

But, you couldn’t think about aftercare. Ghost took his place as soon as it was available, stepping through the muddy, semen-soaked floor without so much as a second glance. His dick was covered in his musk and he used it to rub it all over your clit, arching his back to paint your nipples with it as well, painting long lines of his scent all over your chest, belly, and legs. Satisfied, he notched himself at your entrance and spread your walls wide again, guiding himself deep inside of you. 

You hissed in sweet agony, and he smiled down at you knowingly, 

“You’re taking me so well. My tight little quim. So perfect. How I missed you, lover.”

John was standing again, and he came to help Ghost hold you in place as he pounded himself into you with long, agonizing strokes. You were glad he was there because your whole body was limp. You hung off the side of the pedestal like a ragdoll, letting Ghost rail himself into you, his studded shaft rolling orgasm after orgasm through your nerves, forcing you to come one after the other, just an endless parade of pleasure. Your mouth was open, and Gaz was suckling on your lips and tongue while Soap devoured your breasts, pinching and biting and slurping to his heart’s content. 

John put his paw on your belly, feeling how Simon was protruding out of your flesh, heavy and built to last, His knot smaller but harder than John’s. 

“Remember, love. C’mon, try to reach deeper,” you keened, feeling hot tears rush out of your eyes and down your cheeks as Gaz devoured your tongue. Then, you were transported again, back to your dear Evenhold. You were locked in a battle, controlling your magic and trying to crack a portal. You didn’t have a clear destination, but you found one all the same. Finally, your opponent, Cael, made a misstep. He tried to cast a sealing spell on you, but you deflected it, casting it on your devoted warriors instead, watching them tumble into the portal, wrought in dark stone. You felt yourself scream, and you killed the sorcerer, leaping into the portal to save the heroes you loved. 

But, something had gone wrong. Time, fickle and flowing, warped itself, wrapping around your magic and flinging you back through time. You were a child again, and you were alone. 

The look of despair on your face told Ghost everything he needed to know,

“She remembers. It’s working. Fuck! Take all of me, love. Come back to us!”

He slammed his knot inside of you and stretched his wings out wide and straight, his whole body vibrating with his energy, the enormous cock inside your core jerked and drooled come all over your walls, drowning itself in your tight, swollen hole. 

When he popped his knot out of you, he held it to your pussy like a gate, encouraging the come he’d left behind to settle in your belly instead of spilling onto the ground. It worked poorly; there was just too much of it, but you felt fuller than before, and you knew your womb was carrying their seed deep within you. 

“Hurry, Soap,” John stretched his claws, showing his discomfort, “Dawn.”

Soap took his place between your legs and struggled with his tip. You were pliant and soft for him, but it still wasn’t enough. 

“Turn her,” he grunted, and your protectors followed his command, flipping your body over so that you could be on all fours for him. 

He spread his musk over your hole, using his paws and cock in unison, trying his best to prepare you for his cock’s sinister curve, but it was no use. 

“Just… take me, Soap. Please… I need to know…” You whined, just under your breath, preparing yourself for the ache of being stretched by him.

“Bonnie, I willnae hurt you. Give me a moment t–”

“Now,” you insisted, spreading yourself wide for him, “It has to be now.”

He sighed, and he put his wings around you instinctively, wanting to protect you from the pain and not knowing how.  Soap slipped forward, and his cockhead caught in your inner ring of muscles, stuck, oozing its precome into your hole. He was afraid to press forward, unwilling to injure his mate, fearful of what he might do to you.

So, you fucked him. You leaned back, pressing your cunt down onto his tip, feeling every hard inch as you did so, prying yourself open like a stone fruit, using his prick to cleave your body. Thankfully, he was not as thick as John nor as long as Ghost, but he was a challenge for the entire ride. Every single thrust felt like a damn marathon, and he was shaped in such a way that your delicate g-spot was bullied into a wet, body-shaking submission. 

You never stopped coming on Soap, but you didn’t remember starting either. He erased your mind and filled it with him, only him, and you slipped into his memories as easily as a warm bath, letting him drown you in his slick affection.

You saw yourself as a child, running through the keep, chasing Soap, a mischievous rook, letting him fly you onto the feast table to steal fruits and berries from the bowls, screeching as the cooks chased you from them, laughing and tumbling and rolling into the garden where you shared them together, ripping off ripe, sweet lobes, and fighting over the last bites.

Then, he was a young man. Younger than he was now, but every bit as handsome. None of his blue cracks were there to mar his pearlescent skin, and you marveled at his beauty. He flew with you to your secret spot, high in the white, chalk cliffs of Evenhold, overlooking the sea. He said nothing, but you understood everything in that moment. 

The crash of the waves mimicked his rough fucking, and the lightning strike of another pleasure-filled crescendo slammed you back to the present, letting you watch him groan and stretch and fly with your body, pulling you from the altar into the air, clutching you around your throat and belly with his long tail in a deep embrace, trapping you on his knot and using his hands to milk himself into you, squeezing his root like a summer fruit, giving you every last drop. 

His wings faltered, and his body went limp, and he lay you on the altar as gently as he could before collapsing on the ground of the cave, eyes shut and trembling. 

Gaz mounted you, grabbing your hips and dragging you toward him. You looked down as he held your legs open, using his tail to protect your head from the rough platform. Then, he slipped into you with a gentleness you were not expecting due to his size. You thought you had finally been stretched to the point of comfort, worried about the state of yourself, but it was just an illusion. Once he impaled you past his enormous head, the petals folded back and his fat prick began to struggle within you. But, unlike Soap, he did not hold himself back. He knew you were close to the answer, and he needed to give it to you. 

You both stared down at your swollen belly, full of come and beginning to fill with his shape. Gaz took your hand and placed it just above your womb, and moaned, grunting at you,

“Hold me here, love. Feel me… here…”

You tried to obey, but doing so made all of the sensations inside of you that much more intense. You could feel every petal, every ridge, every slippery marble node, the furl of his flesh and the impossibly thick length of his phallus, all of it working inside of you, right below your palm. 

“Press…” He begged, his brown eyes soft and pleading. 

So, you did, and you made yourself start to come. It was too beautiful of a feeling. You could sense every twitch and pulse and slip of his cock inside of you, feeling it with your walls as if you would your hands, squeezing him within you like a hilt to its blade, wielding him like a weapon. 

You tipped over the edge, falling into another dream, but this time, it was a place you recognized. You were with Valeria, young again, just a child, and you watched her close the portal, making the runes with her hands, and sealing off the world of Darmoch, Evenhold, and everything you’d ever known.

Then, she cast a spell over your guardians, releasing them from their stone prisons, but at a price. Their skin splintered and cracked, and the stone cut awful shapes in their flesh, burning them with permanent scars. You wanted to help them, but you were slowly forgetting their faces. Things were fading away, and Valeria was the only one who knew how to help you. 

You opened your eyes, clutching Gaz’s long dick within you in both of your hands, massaging him with deep affection and adoration. You looked up at him and said, 

“I remember everything.”

He smiled, leaning forward to kiss your mouth, nuzzling your nose with his own snout, minding his tusks and groaning for you, 

“Mmm, of course you do, my love. I knew you would.”

Gaz took a sharp breath and rolled his knot into you, emptying himself inside like the others, making you warm, full, and knowing the most perfect love. It was written all over your soul, your promise to them, their vow to you, the ancient oath to protect you and to follow your command until the end of days. 

When he pulled away, stumbling back and catching himself on the cave wall, you knew your destiny. You rose to your feet, ignoring the aches of your humanity, casting aside your doubt. You pulled your guardians close to you, putting their hands on your arms and shoulders, and just as the pink dawn began to crest over the horizon, you said,

“Hold on to me. We’re going home.”

Don't look at me like that. Y'all knew I was out of my mind before you even started reading this fic. C'mon, now.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hello :) could you do a poly!marauders with a reader who has a really bad fear of spiders and then helping her? (Like she will cry at the sight or can’t sleep if she’s thinking of them haha) :))

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!Marauders x Reader

You were tucked comfortably into bed, surrounded by the warmth of three of your four boyfriends—Remus on your left, Sirius on your right, and James sprawled across the foot of the bed, his head resting on your legs. Peter had just popped out to grab some snacks, which left you all in a peaceful, sleepy state.

Or at least, it was peaceful until it happened.

You had glanced up at the ceiling to admire the star-shaped stickers glowing faintly in the dark. But instead of the comforting sight of twinkling stars, your eyes landed on a spider. A big, hairy, terrifying spider dangling right above you.

A spider.

Your heart dropped. It wasn’t just any spider—it was massive. Okay, maybe not massive, but to you, it might as well have been the size of a dragon. Frozen, you let out a small whimper, your eyes glued to the eight-legged terror.

Sirius was the first to notice your panic. He dropped the magazine he was flipping through and leaned closer. “Babe? You alright?”

Your body froze, and a strangled squeak escaped your lips.

"What's wrong, love?" Remus asked, his voice soft with concern. He leaned up on his elbow to look at you, but all you could do was point a trembling finger at the ceiling, eyes wide with terror.

Sirius frowned, following your gaze. The moment his eyes landed on the spider, his own face scrunched up. "Bloody hell, that thing's huge."

That was it. Panic set in, and you scrambled to the foot of the bed, practically clambering over James, who was still half-asleep, blissfully unaware of the eight-legged horror hanging above.

"What—ow! What’s going on?" James groaned as you elbowed him, trying to escape.

"Spider!" you cried, voice cracking as you buried yourself behind him, using him as a shield. "There's a huge spider on the ceiling!"

Remus sat up, sighing deeply. “It’s just a spider, love. No need to—”

But then he saw it, and even the normally composed Remus faltered. "That’s... quite the specimen."

Sirius, already on his feet, grabbed one of James’s trainers off the floor. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ve got this. I’ll be your knight in shining armor.”

James groaned as Sirius stepped on the bed, ready for battle. “Hey! Careful where you—OW!—step!”

But as Sirius swung at the spider, the little devil dropped lower from its web, dodging him. That was enough to send you into full meltdown mode.

“I can’t! I—can’t sleep knowing it’s here! It’s going to crawl on me! I’ll die!” You wailed, tears welling up as you hugged James’s back for dear life. “No!” you yelped, grabbing his arm. “Don’t squish it! Then it’ll haunt me forever. Just—just get rid of it!”

Remus shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “I’ll get a jar.”

“I’m not sleeping if it’s anywhere near this flat, Moony,” you warned. “You have to throw it far.”

James gave you a comforting smile, kissing the top of your head. “We’ll make sure it’s gone.”

Sirius climbed onto the couch, making exaggerated swipes at the ceiling with James's trainers. “I’m gonna get you, little bugger—”

“Sirius!” you shrieked, half laughing, half sobbing as he missed it completely. The spider scurried toward the corner, which sent another wave of panic through you. “Get it away!”

Remus sighed and calmly approached with the jar in hand. “Padfoot, quit messing around.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Sirius said, jumping down from the couch with a dramatic flourish. “You heard the lady, no squishing.”

“Careful, Moony! It’s coming right at you!” Sirius shrieked.

At that moment, Peter strolled back into the room, holding a bag of crisps and a bottle of pumpkin juice. "What's all the noise?"

James, with you still clinging to him, pointed upward. “Spider crisis.”

Peter looked up, spotted the spider, and to everyone's surprise, casually walked over with a tissue. “You’re all acting like babies.” He reached up, gently plucked the spider from its web, and without so much as a flinch, opened the window to let it out.

Silence filled the room as all four of you stared at Peter, dumbfounded.

“Did... did Peter just save us?” Sirius muttered, lowering James’s shoe.

James blinked, still processing. “I’m questioning everything right now.”

You, on the other hand, exhaled a deep breath of relief and finally let go of James, wiping your teary eyes. “Th-thank you, Pete. You’re my hero.”

Peter grinned, giving you a little bow. “All in a day's work.”

Remus chuckled and patted Peter on the back. “Well, thank Merlin someone here can handle spiders.”

Sirius quickly recovered and threw his arms around you dramatically. “But it was me who grabbed the shoe first! I was ready to lay down my life for you, love.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his over-the-top antics, feeling the tension ease from your body. “Yes, Sirius, you’re very brave.”

“Oi, what about me? I cushioned her from all the drama!” James said, twisting around to pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you snugly. “Best spider shield in the business.”

Peter flopped down on the bed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Next time, just call me. Spider-slayer Pete, at your service.”

You couldn’t help but smile, surrounded by all four of your boys, safe and sound. “I feel like I should bake Peter cookies now.”

“Hey, don’t spoil him! He’ll get used to it!” Sirius teased, poking Peter in the side.

You chuckled as you started to stand up to bake cookies for Peter when you suddenly looked around, "You guys are sure it's gone right?"

Sirius slung an arm around you with a devilish grin. “Oh, it might have babies. They could be anywhere now…”

Your face drained of color, and you swatted his arm with a groan. “Sirius!”

James shot Sirius a warning look but couldn’t help laughing as well. “Alright, mate, stop scaring her.”

“I’m just teasing!” Sirius pouted, pulling you into a playful hug. “I’d never let a spider near you, promise. Not while Pete's around.”

You buried your face in Sirius’s chest, half-laughing, half-sighing. “You’re the worst.”

Peter sat next to you, patting your knee comfortingly. “You know we’ll always protect you. Spiders included.”

With James still holding you, Sirius on one side and Peter on the other, Remus beside Peter, you finally started to relax, your heart calming down. “Thanks, guys,” you whispered.

James kissed your temple. “Of course, darling. We’ve got you.”

Sirius snickered. “Now, if it was a snake, that would’ve been another story…”

You groaned again, but this time it was full of affection. “Never change, Sirius.”

[romugh]

FICTIONAL DESIRES - SJ

pairing- scarlett johansson x reader

cw- 18+!!; top!reader, sub!bottom!scarlett, fingering (s rcv), oral (s rcv), strappie (s rcv), strapwarming, mirror sex (s), slight overstimulation, mild degradation (if you squint), praise kink, crying? (s)

wc- 7.197 :o

a/n- welp hi this was my first posted fic on here! repost from a week ago x

synopsis- you catch scarlett reading fanfiction about you, what could possibly happen after?

taglist?- @lost-mortemanghel hope you like the bedtime story, although a bit late xD

Scarlett sat comfortably on the couch of her trailer, legs tucked beneath her, with her laptop balanced on her knees. It had been a long day, and she was in the mood for some light reading before bed. She’d recently discovered the world of fanfiction — an endless source of amusement and curiosity, especially when it involved stories about her and her co-stars. It was harmless fun, and some of the writers were surprisingly talented.

As she browsed through the platform, a particular story title caught her eye. The name in the title was familiar from other stories, but she hadn’t read anything about it yet — your name. Her brows furrowed and her face flushed slightly as she clicked on it, intrigued by what kind of tale someone had spun about you.

The story began innocently enough, with a casual meeting, the kind that could have easily happened in real life. She smiled, amused at how the writer had captured your personality. But as she continued reading, her eyebrows began to rise in surprise. The narrative quickly shifted from friendly banter to something more… intense. Her eyes widened as she realised she was reading a smut story involving you and, to her growing surprise, herself.

Scarlett hesitated for a moment, her finger hovering over the trackpad, ready to click away. But something made her stay. Maybe it was the sheer shock, or perhaps it was the intrigue of how this story would unfold. Her heart pounded a little faster as she scrolled down, taking in the vividly descriptive language.

The writer had an uncanny way of describing the chemistry between the two characters—your character and hers. She could almost hear your voice in the dialogue, see your expressions in the scenes. And despite herself, she kept reading, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity.

As she reached the end of the chapter, Scarlett leaned back against the couch, her face warm and flushed. She couldn't believe she had just read that, let alone that she was tempted to read more. But there was no denying it—she was hooked. Before she could talk herself out of it, she clicked on the next chapter, eager to see where the story would go next.

It was wrong, she knew it, but something about the fantasy of it all drew her in. It wasn’t real, after all. Just a story—a strange, strangely compelling story that had her utterly captivated.

And so, Scarlett found herself lost in the fictional world, reading page after page, the minutes slipping by unnoticed as the night grew darker around her.

Scarlett's eyes grew heavy as she continued to devour the chapters, her mind lost in the descriptive details leading to vivid imagery. Her blushing cheeks and furrowed brow softened as exhaustion gradually overtook her. The rhythmic hum of the air conditioner seemed to lull her into a drowsy stupor, and soon, her eyelids fluttered closed. She slumped slightly, her laptop slipping a little before settling comfortably on her lap. The faint glow from the screen illuminated her peaceful, yet flushed face as she drifted into sleep.

The trailer door creaked open, and you stepped inside, careful to close it quietly behind you. The dim light from the lantern outside barely pierced the cosy darkness of the living space. You glanced over at your girlfriend, noting the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Her soft breathing put a smile on your face as you tiptoed past her, not wanting to disturb her slumber.

The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet room as Scarlett's breathing remained steady, deep in the blissful realm of unintentional sleep. Realising you were too keyed up to sleep just yet, you decided to check your emails. You glanced at your laptop on the desk across the room, its battery light stubbornly flashing red. Dead. With a sigh, you looked over at Scarlett’s laptop in her lap. She wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for a moment, right?

Carefully, so as not to disturb her, you reached over. The screen flickered back to life, revealing a book page — something she'd been reading before drifting off. Curiosity piqued, you noticed the title of the story still visible in the tab.

Your eyes widened as you realised what kind of story this was. Smut. And not just any smut, but a detailed, passionate narrative about Scarlett and you, wrapped in the throes of something that definitely wasn't part of any script you'd worked on together. A chuckle escaped your lips before you could stop it.

At that moment, Scarlett stirred beside you, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked, taking in the sight of you hunched over her laptop. "What are you doing?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

You turned to her with a teasing grin. "Oh, just catching up on some reading. Seems like you’ve been doing some interesting reading yourself, my love."

Her eyes shot open fully as the realisation hit her. "Oh my god," she gasped, immediately sitting up and reaching for her laptop. "You weren’t supposed to see that!"

You leaned back, enjoying her flustered reaction. "I didn't know you were into this kind of… literature", you teased, emphasising the last word with a playful smirk.

Scarlett's face turned a deep shade of red as she buried her face in her hands. "I was just curious, okay? I didn't mean to... I mean, it was just-"

"— one story?" You finished for her, arching an eyebrow. "Because from the look of it, you’ve been doing a bit of a deep dive. Six chapters in, still seven more to go, darling."

She peeked at you from behind her fingers, biting her lip. "I was only halfway through the fifth one" she murmurs, her voice barely a whisper.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound breaking through the tension. "Scar, it's fine. I’m just surprised you didn’t invite me to read them with you."

Her hands fell to her sides, and she gave you a playful shove. "Oh, shut up," she muttered, though a small smile played on her lips.

You set the laptop aside and carefully settled into her lap. Leaning in close, you dropped your voice to a mock whisper. "Next time, just let me know, and we can give the authors some real-life feedback."

Scarlett let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief as her cheeks flushed a deeper shade. "You’re impossible."

You hummed with a smile, teasingly grinding down on her lap. "And you’re too adorable when you’re embarrassed."

Scarlett rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as her hands found your waist. She felt your gentle touch playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Relaxing into the caress, her gaze softened, fixed on you with a tender expression.

“That feels nice,” she murmured, a gentle smile on her lips.

“I can make you feel nicer,” you teased, your eyes drifting to her lips.

You leaned in closer, the warmth of your breath mingling with hers as your fingers continued their gentle caress. Your smile turned playful, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You know, I’m thinking,” you said softly, letting your lips hover near her ear. “If you’re so into these stories, maybe you’d like a real-life version.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened slightly, and a deeper flush spread across her cheeks. “Oh, stop it,” she said with a nervous laugh, trying to hide her blush. “You know it’s just harmless fun.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence as you pressed your lips against her temple. “Harmless fun, huh? So you’re telling me you didn’t get a little… excited reading about us?”

Scarlett’s breath caught in her throat, and she looked up at you, her gaze full of a mix of embarrassment and desire. “You’re impossible,” she said again, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to maintain a playful tone.

You smirked, tracing your lips down her cheek before pressing a soft kiss near the corner of her mouth. “Maybe,” you murmured, “but you can’t deny there was something in those stories that caught your attention.”

Her fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as she tried to meet your gaze. “I—” she began, but the words were lost as you pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

When you pulled back, your lips curved into a teasing smile. “Come on,” you said, your voice low and sultry. “Tell me. What was it about those stories that had you so hooked?”

Scarlett bit her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of shyness and desire. “You know it’s not just about the stories,” she admitted, her cheeks still flushed. “It’s… everything. The way you make me feel.”

You grinned, your hands sliding up to cradle her face gently. “Well, if those stories got you this worked up, imagine what I can do when it’s just us,” you said, your voice dripping with playful promise.

Scarlett leans in to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss. The kiss was soft at first but quickly deepened as the passion between you grew. Scarlett’s hands roamed up to your shoulders, pulling you closer as she melted into the kiss, your body pressing against hers.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, the air between you thick with tension and desire. You looked into her eyes, a satisfied smile on your face. “Now tell me what it was in those stories,” you whispered, your tone teasing yet tender.

Scarlett groaned as she let her head fall back against the cushions of the couch. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to steady her breathing, but the lingering heat of your touch made it difficult. “I really don’t know if I can,” she murmured, her voice strained with both embarrassment and longing.

You hummed softly, the sound vibrating against her skin as you pressed delicate kisses along her jawline. Each kiss was slow and deliberate, your lips grazing her skin with tender affection. Your hips ground down against her gently, accentuating the playful yet intimate connection between you.

Scarlett shivered at the contact, her fingers gripping your waist tightly. Her breath quickened as she felt the combined pressure of your teasing kisses and the heat of your body. “It’s just,” she started, her voice barely a whisper, “there was a mirror.”

Her cheeks flushed again, her eyes unable to meet yours as embarrassment crossed her features. You chuckled softly, the sound reverberating in her mind, a mix of amusement and affection. 

“Did it affect you this much because you know there’s a mirror in our bedroom?” You murmured against her skin, tone teasing. 

The lack of a verbal response from Scarlett was enough of an answer. You stood up, gently pulling her with you by her hips as you guided her towards your shared bedroom. Her eyes widened as embarrassment gave way to desire, the green of her gaze darkening with arousal.

You smile, pursing your lips as your amusement at the whole situation shines through. Scarlett let out a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with a mix of embarrassment and desire as she leaned closer. 

A gasp escaped her lips as the back of her knees hit the bed frame, causing her to fall onto the bed. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she shifted backward, deliberately removing pieces of her clothing. “Only for you,” she rasped, her voice imbued with sincerity and affection. Her gaze softened with fondness as she met yours, savouring the deep intimacy of the moment.

Scarlett watches impatiently as you teasingly undress yourself, seemingly in no rush. Her mind swirls, caught between the urge to take control and the temptation to submit.

“You look beautiful,” she murmured, a warm smile contrasting with the lust in her eyes as she took in your nearly naked form. Moving closer to the edge of the bed, she reached out, her fingers gently stroking your arm before trailing up to your shoulder. With a soft touch, she slipped her hand behind you, her intention clearly to unclasp the lacy bra that had been confining your chest.

“And you look heavenly,” you reply, standing between her legs as you gently take her chin between your index finger and thumb, lifting her head so her gaze travels from your chest to your face. “But my eyes are up here, princess. Don’t you want to see me in the beautiful set I bought just for you?”

Scarlett chuckled softly at your teasing admonishment, her arms dropping from your back to the bed, catching her as she leaned back. “Oh, I didn’t realise the rules had changed,” she responded playfully, her signature smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “My apologies for getting lost in your… assets.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at her comment. Humming softly, you slowly sat down on her lap again, your eyes never leaving Scarlett's. The tension thickened, the playfulness slowly getting overturned by the lust and need.

Scarlett rolled her eyes at your expression, although her eyes sparkled with a mix of submission and anticipation. She remained sitting on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on you as she sensed the tension building even more in the room. There was a subtle thrill in wanting to let go of control, an exhilarating sense of vulnerability and trust in this moment.

“You talk a lot, princess,” you said softly as you got off of her and made your way down as you trailed kisses down her chest, her skin tingling at the gentle affection mingled with a hint of assertion.

“Sometimes words are the only way to get the point across,” she responded, her voice carrying a note of playfulness as well as feigned innocence. She rested a hand on your shoulder as her other elbow supported her weight. Her fingers brushed against your skin, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat quickening.

A mischievous glint flashed in your eyes, causing Scarlett's breath to hitch in anticipation.

“Are they, now?” you asked, an idea forming into your head.

Scarlett tilted her head slightly at the subtle tone in your question, a glint of curiosity evident in her expression. “Sometimes, yes,” she answered, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. She lifted an eyebrow, a silent invitation for you to share your idea. “Care to share your thoughts?”

“Well, baby,” You smirked, your hands going up and down Scarlett's waist and thighs as you tease her. Your eyes move to look at her lips curving into a small smile at your gentle caresses, the warmth of your touch mingling with the gentle teasing undertones. “I suppose you can use your words to tell me what you want. Can you do that?”

Her lips part slightly, her eyes trailing all over your face as she nods and moves her hand to cup your cheek. “And what exactly did you have in mind for me to put into words?”

She allowed you to pull her a bit closer to the edge of the bed, her fingers running gently through your hair as you continued making your way down, humming softly in response to her question. 

“You know, mirror thoughts,” you began, your tone teasing as your hands slid up to her breasts, her nipples already erect. “Did the author make good use of your cocky mouth for once?” you continued with a sigh, feigning innocence. “Did they know how much you like to act all tough? Did they know how easy it is for me to make you let out sounds other than your bratty remarks? Because I do. You can’t hide how I make you feel, princess.”

You smirk as you sink down further onto your knees, lifting her legs onto your shoulders, your gaze never leaving Scarlett’s.

The impact of your words is immediate and palpable. Scarlett’s breath hitches, her body trembling slightly as a wave of conflicting emotions floods over her. She feels a fierce desire to resist, to fight against the submission your teasing evokes. Her mind races, trying to maintain her facade even as her body betrays her.

With a determined glint in her eye, she met your gaze head-on, her voice firm despite the tremor underlying her words. “And what if I have nothing to hide?” she challenged, a defiant edge cutting through her otherwise soft tone. Her attempt to assert control was palpable, though the flush on her cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her chest revealed her internal struggle.

“Then I suppose you won’t be ashamed to let me know how I make you feel,” you said with a smirk, your chest warming at the sight of her eyes darkening further. Scarlett’s breaths grew heavier as you left open-mouthed kisses on her inner thighs, inching ever closer to where she most desired you. Each touch of your lips sent a pleasant shiver down her spine, intensifying the internal battle she waged against her own submission.

Scarlett’s breath hitched as your lips lingered near her most sensitive spot, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly. She tilted her head back, trying to maintain a facade of defiance even if she knew you could see right through her. “Ashamed?” she managed to say, her voice trembling slightly despite her effort to sound resolute. “You should know by now that I’m not easily embarrassed.” The edge in her tone was thinly veiled, as her fierce desire and escalating need began to chip away at her resistance. Despite her best efforts, she could feel the irresistible pull of submission drawing her closer to the brink, the heat between her legs becoming a relentless force she could no longer ignore.

You smirked, the playfulness in your eyes intensifying as you leaned in closer, your breath warm against her damp skin. “Oh, really?” you murmured, your lips brushing her sensitive bud as you spoke. “I seem to remember someone looking quite flustered when I caught her reading that steamy little story. Don’t you think you were a bit embarrassed then?” Scarlett’s eyes flashed with defiance, her fingers tightening around the sheets as she fought to maintain her composure. “Embarrassed?” she scoffed, though her voice was unsteady. “I wasn’t embarrassed, just... surprised. It’s not the same thing.” Her denial wavered as the heat of the moment threatened to overwhelm her, her body betraying her stubborn resolve.

“Alright, princess,” you said, your voice a low, teasing murmur as your tongue swept through her folds once. “Look at yourself in the mirror then.” The command, combined with the sensation, made her blush fiercely as she felt the heat of your words and touch. Her internal war was nearing its end, and the intensity of the moment left her on the brink of surrender, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own desire.

She glanced over at the large mirror that adorned one of the walls and then back at you, embarrassment evident in her expression.

“There you go, princess. See? It’s not that hard. Look at yourself, baby, don’t you dare look away,” you murmured, finally enclosing her clit in your mouth and suckling gently, giving her core your undivided attention.

Scarlett’s breath caught in her throat at your gentle yet firm command, her gaze locked on the reflection staring back at her from the mirror. She swallowed hard, a mixture of vulnerability and arousal coursing through her as she obeyed your instructions. “I… I don’t-” she began, her voice a husky whisper, but the words faded away as a soft gasp escaped her lips, overwhelmed by the sensation of your skilled mouth on her. Scarlett’s breath hitched unevenly as her hips instinctively sought for a deeper connection, her body responding to the quickly growing pleasure you were eliciting.

You looked up, seeing Scarlett struggle to keep her gaze fixed on her reflection, the warmth of your gaze on her flushed skin only heightening her vulnerability. Her desire to please you began to overpower her embarrassment, the combination of the visual and physical sensations intensifying her arousal. Scarlett's quiet moan broke the silence, her grip tightening on the sheets as she felt your smile against her most sensitive spot. The gentle curve of your lips sent shivers along her skin, heightening the tension. Her gaze wavered, struggling to hold on to her reflection in the mirror as the last traces of embarrassment started to give way to something more primal. Each touch, each kiss, drew her closer to surrender, the need to give in to you growing stronger with every passing second. 

Scarlett was so lost in the sensation of your mouth that she barely registered your fingers trailing down her thigh. It wasn’t until you brushed lightly against her folds that she gasped, her body tensing in surprise. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of pleasure through her, and she instinctively arched her back, pressing herself closer to your hand. Her breath hitched as you continued to stroke her slowly, the gentle rhythm making her squirm with anticipation.

Collecting her natural juices as your tongue laps up the excess, you hummed lowly, the vibrations tippling scarlett over to the side of surrender. Noticing this, you spoke up. “You’re so beautiful for me, baby, so open for me. All mine”

Scarlett heard your soft yet possessive words, melting a little bit more with the mix of affection and assertiveness. “All yours” she gasped out, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

“All mine, Scar” you repeated softly. You focus back on her folds and clit as your fingers slowly push inside of her, a louder moan preying its way into the room.

Scarlett’s breath hitched as your fingers slowly slid inside her, the sensation causing a louder moan to escape her lips. The combination of your gentle touch and the possessiveness in your voice made her body respond instinctively, surrendering further to the pleasure. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her lips parting as she gasped out, “All yours,” her voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and need. The way you claimed her, both with words and actions, sent a thrill through her, her body arching towards you as she fully gave in.

You paused your movements, withdrawing your fingers just as you noticed her eyes fluttering shut. Instantly, Scarlett's eyes flew open, her expression a mix of confusion and need as a frustrated whine escaped her lips in protest. "Keep your eyes on yourself, princess," you murmured, your voice firm but gentle. "Don’t look away now — you’re too beautiful to hide."

“But-” she protested softly, her tone edged with frustration and need.

She met her own gaze in the mirror, seeing the reflection of her vulnerability and desire, a prominent blush dusting her cheeks at the realisation that she wanted this, she needed this.

Her protest faded as you slid your fingers back inside her, a breathy gasp escaping as pleasure surged through her once more. A soft moan followed, her body instinctively responding to your touch, muscles tightening around your fingers.  Her eyes locked on your form in the mirror, she fully surrendered, the trust and need she felt for you clear in every movement, every sound.

Scarlett’s head swam in a haze of pleasure as you quickened your pace, your fingers and tongue moving together in perfect rhythm to push her closer to the brink. She dropped the hand that had been gripping your hair, propping herself up on her elbows. Her breathing grew shallow, her eyes locked on the mirrored reflection of herself as she struggled to maintain her focus amidst the overwhelming waves of ecstasy. With a gasp, she called out your name, her voice tinged with a potent blend of urgency and longing.

Scarlett’s breathing quickened as your fingers picked up the pace even more, the pleasure mounting within her, threatening to overwhelm her completely. Her body trembled with a mix of pleasure and surrender as she felt you adding another finger to the mix, stretching her further and coaxing a louder moan from her lips. She fought the instinctive urge to close her eyes, keeping her gaze fixed on her reflection even as the intensity grew. Her breaths were uneven and shaky. 

“You’re doing so well, princess, being such a good girl,” you murmured against her. The sound of your praise and reassurance resonated through her, washing over her like a soothing caress. Her heart swelled, filling her with a sense of warmth and acceptance. A soft whimper escaped her lips as your words mingled with your actions against her very sensitive folds.

Your tongue left her core as you made your way up, three fingers still pumping into scarlett steadily, picking up speed again. “So good, Scarlett. My princess.” you murmured against her lips before pressing them against hers.

Scarlett moaned needily, the taste of her own essence on your tongue mixing with her moans. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but quickly opened again, drawn to her reflection. Her cheeks flushed deeper as she saw the flushed, dazed look on her face and the marks left on her skin. Despite the intense pleasure, she held back her orgasm, driven by a desire to please you and make you proud.

You notice the latter, smiling as pride overwhelms you, mixing in with your own arousal. “You want to come for me, princess?” You ask, your own words sounding breathy and shaky. 

Scarlett cries out at your words, a mix of need and emotion evident in her expression. She fought to control her rising desires, trying to hold back the building tide of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Nodding frantically, she cries out again, desperate to please you, desperate to be yours. 

“Then come for me, baby. Be a good girl and come for me,” you murmured against her lips, noticing her eyes still fixed on her reflection, tears pooling at her waterline.

She surrendered completely to your touch, allowing herself to be overwhelmed by the worship you lavished on her. Her eyes rolled back, her arms giving out as you added a curling motion to your fingers inside her. A loud, needy moan escaped her lips as pleasure surged through her, wave after wave of intense sensation rippling through her body.

Scarlett’s body trembled with the aftershocks of her release, her breathing gradually steadying as she basked in the aftermath. With a soft sigh, she reached out to brush her fingers against your cheek, a blissful smile playing on her lips.

You returned her smile before pressing your fingers against her lips, urging her to take them into her mouth. Scarlett’s breath caught in her throat as you hummed lowly, her mind momentarily distracted by your gentle smile. Slowly, she took them in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on them. It took her a moment to fully realise what she was doing, cleaning herself off your fingers. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes widening as her irises darkened with arousal, only a hint of that familiar green remaining visible.

A flicker of realisation and embarrassment flickered in her eyes as she processed the situation, the memory of those words from the story she had been reading flashing through her mind. The very scene those words had painted was now unfolding in reality, making her pulse quicken. The vivid recollection of the story’s description, paired with the sensation of your fingers in her mouth, sent a jolt of heat through her. Scarlett’s blush deepened, her mind racing as she struggled to reconcile the fantasy with the intensity of the present moment.

You slowly withdraw your fingers, a string of saliva mixed with her arousal still connecting them to her lips. “You’re fucking adorable, my love,” you whispered, easing her back onto the bed as she gazed up at you through hooded eyes, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she took in your form, clad only in the lace set you said you had bought just for her.

“And adorably fuckable,” you added, your voice low and seductive, as you leaned in to capture her bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it gently.

Scarlett moaned softly, still not entirely accustomed to being vocal in bed. "You’re a menace," she whispered, her eyes flickering back to the mirror, taking in the scene unfolding before her.

"Your menace," you corrected with a sly smile, easing onto the bed and guiding her to straddle your thigh. Instinctively, Scarlett began to grind against you, a contented sigh slipping from her lips as she adjusted to the position, her body moving in tune with your touch.

"So sensitive still," you murmured, your voice low and teasing. Scarlett's cheeks flushed at the comment, her breath catching in her throat as the heat between you both continued to build.

As you looked into Scarlett's eyes, something shifted within you. The way she gazed back at you, her willingness to submit even more clear in the depths of her flushed, wide-eyed expression, sparked a more primal desire inside you. The embarrassment that lingered from being caught only fueled the fire, making her vulnerability all the more intoxicating.

Without a word, your grip on her hips tightened, your movements becoming rougher, more demanding. You guided her against your thigh with a newfound intensity, your eyes darkening as you watched her struggle to maintain her moans. The shift in your demeanour was unmistakable — no longer just teasing, but feral, driven by the need to claim her completely. Scarlett's breath hitched, a gasp escaping her lips as the sudden change sent a shiver down her spine, her submission now inevitable under the weight of your fierce, unyielding gaze.

Scarlett’s eyes widened momentarily as you tugged at her hair, a sharp moan escaping her lips before morphing into a louder, more pronounced whine. She gasped your name, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and heightened arousal at the sudden, albeit pleasurable, intensity.

“Shut up,” you growled, your voice low and commanding. You cupped her throat with one hand, applying a gentle but firm pressure that made her breath catch.

A soft shudder rippled through Scarlett’s body at the sensation, her focus sharpening on you amidst the escalating intensity. Her movements against you became more urgent, driven by a primal need to respond to your dominance. The mix of her gasps and moans, combined with the rhythmic grinding, created a symphony of sound that filled the space between you, echoing the raw, unfiltered pleasure she was experiencing.

“Look at you,” you rasp, your grip on her throat tightening just enough to make her breath shallow but not painful. “So eager, so willing. You take everything I give you and ask for more.” Your other hand was still on her hip, guiding her movements with a firm, controlling touch. “You’re such a good girl, Scarlett. Every bit of you belongs to me right now.”

A warm sense of satisfaction washed over her at your words of praise. Scarlett’s breath comes in quick, shallow bursts, her eyes locked on yours with a mix of submission and adoration. The friction from your thigh isn't enough to satiate her desperate need, and she whimpers as she grinds against you with increasing fervour, her body seeking more. Each praise-laden whisper from you only fuels her desire further, her moans growing louder as she chases the elusive release she craves, her movements more frantic as she yearns for the intense pleasure only you can give. 

Scarlett's eyes are clouded with need as she presses closer, her movements becoming more desperate. With a breathy whimper, she gasps out, “I just want to make you proud.” Her voice trembles with both vulnerability and fierce determination, the words escaping her lips as if they're a plea and a promise all at once. The intensity of her desire for your approval only drives her to grind against you with increased urgency, her body aching for the release that she hopes will prove her devotion. Each word and every movement is a testament to her need to please you, her submission raw and unfiltered in the heat of the moment.

“I know you do, princess,” you whispered against her chest, where your previous love bites lingered, a soft reminder of your earlier touches. “I know you want to make me proud and please me.” Your voice was a low murmur, filled with a mix of affection and dominance.

You pulled her hips more firmly, guiding her movements with a commanding grip. As you leaned in closer, your hand slipped down from her neck between her thighs, finding its way to her core. Your fingers traced teasingly around her clit, creating a maddeningly gentle friction that made her writhe in desperate anticipation as you withheld the exact sensation she craved. Her body responded eagerly to the teasing, a mixture of frustration and pleasure evident in every breathless sound she made. 

“Know that you always do, sweetheart,” you murmured, your voice a low growl filled with approval. “You always make me proud. You’re such a good girl for me.” You gave in, finally rubbing her clit with a firm, rhythmic pressure. “So hold it for me, hold it back. Make me proud and only let go when I tell you that you can.” Scarlett’s back arched involuntarily as a series of guttural moans tore from her lips, her body trembling with the overwhelming pleasure you were giving her.

“I know you better than anyone, Scar,” you growled softly, your voice carrying a possessive edge. Your hand slid up to take her chin between your fingers, tilting her face to make her look directly at you. “You’re mine, and no one else’s.” Your gaze was intense, filled with a protective fierceness that only deepened her surrender. Her eyes locked onto yours, and as you continued to rub her clit with deliberate pressure, the weight of your words and the heat of your touch combined to make her quiver even more.

Scarlett's mind was a tangled mess of pleasure and frustration, her thoughts hazy and unfocused as she fought to maintain control over her body. The constant stimulation and your commanding presence overwhelmed her senses, making it nearly impossible to think straight. Tears welled up in her eyes, rolling down her flushed cheeks as she mumbled the word "yours" over and over again, each utterance a desperate plea for reassurance and a testament to her surrender. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling uncontrollably as she struggled to hold back the orgasm she desperately needed, the intensity of her desire pushing her closer to the edge with every passing moment.

Seeing Scarlett's struggle and the sheer determination in her eyes, you softened your touch slightly, but the rough edge remained. You pressed closer, your voice a mix of command and encouragement. "Then let go for me, princess. If you’re et me hear you," you urged, your tone firm yet laced with tenderness. You could see how much she wanted to please you, how deeply she yearned to make you proud. Her moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. As you continued your relentless touch, you watched her fall apart completely, the raw vulnerability in her expression a clear indication of her need to fulfil your desires, her desperate cries filling the room.

Scarlett’s eyes fluttered closed as she rode out the peaks of her release, her body shuddering with waves of pleasure and satisfaction. She clung to your shoulders, her grip a blend of need and appreciation. As the intense rush began to fade, her breathing slowly steadied, and the sharp edges of her heightened sensations softened into a more tender warmth. Although she was gradually returning to a more grounded state, a gentle, lingering need remained. Her fingers relaxed their tight hold, but her gaze stayed softly intense, seeking reassurance. With a tender sigh, she pressed closer, her eyes searching yours with a quiet plea for more of the connection and care that had brought her such profound joy.

You smiled at her, recognizing the look in her eyes as the intense moment began to ease. Your own breathing slowly returned to a more steady rhythm as you wet your lips with your tongue. Gently stroking her cheek, you leaned in with a tender gaze. “More?” you asked, your voice soft 

Scarlett smiled softly, her response a soft, hesitant nod. Her breath hitched as you guided her into position, gently encouraging her to sit on your face. But just before she could, you tapped her thigh to lift her up again. You then directed her to turn around, positioning her so she could see herself in the mirror once more. “Same rules, sweetheart. Eyes on you, or I’ll edge you even more,” you said, your tone both firm and tender. Overstimulated and eager for your guidance, Scarlett obeyed immediately, her gaze locking onto her reflection. Eyes widening slightly at the sight of her own figure.

Scarlett’s eyes darted to you, a trace of nervousness in her voice as she asked, “Do you really want me to watch in the mirror again?” You met her gaze with a reassuring smile, your voice soft but resolute. “Yes, I do, princess. Watch yourself and tell me how beautiful you are, sitting on my face like that.” Your words were both a command and a comfort, easing her nerves. Taking a deep breath, Scarlett’s apprehension gave way to a renewed sense of trust. Slowly, she lowered herself fully onto your face, her body quivering with anticipation.

Your tongue moved skillfully, exploring and teasing her with a mix of gentle flicks and deeper, more deliberate strokes. You savoured her taste, the warmth of her body against your mouth, and the way she responded to your touch, your tongue tracing her sensitive folds and teasing her with rhythmic flicks. You alternated between soft, gentle strokes and firmer, more insistent movements, exploring every curve and contour. Your lips followed the path of your tongue, creating a blend of warmth and pressure that heightened her pleasure. Each deliberate motion was designed to bring her closer to the edge, your focus solely on her responses as she writhed and moaned above you.

Scarlett’s moans turned into a mix of breathless babble, her words spilling out in a rush as she ground down harder against you. She leaned back, gripping your hair and tugging you closer. You responded by pushing your tongue inside her with a steady, focused rhythm, exploring and teasing every sensitive spot. The pleasure built intensely as she continued to ride you, her body trembling with each wave of her climax. As her movements became more frantic, her blabbering turned incoherent, a mess of broken words and desperate gasps. The combination of your skilled movements and her increased intensity sent her spiralling towards release. When she finally came undone, her body shuddering with a powerful climax, she was a blabbering mess, her voice lost in the overwhelming pleasure. You didn’t stop, continuing to pleasure her, maintaining your rhythm and depth, ensuring every wave of her orgasm was met with your unwavering attention.

Scarlett’s world narrowed to a single point — her reflection in the mirror. As you continued your relentless pace, the echoes of her orgasm rippled through her body, intensified by your unrelenting intensity. She gasped your name again, her voice a shattered whisper edged with delicate vulnerability. In the mirror, she saw tears streaming down her face from the overwhelming pleasure consuming her. Her thighs trembled around your head, muscles clenching with each fervent movement, caught in a dance of conflicting desires — trying to both resist and pull you closer.

Scarlett’s breath hitched as the waves of pleasure built up once again, her body tightening as she hovered on the edge of another climax. With your relentless pace and the sight of her own reflection, she was quickly pushed over the edge into another intense release. Her cries grew louder, more desperate, as she came undone again, her body shuddering uncontrollably against you. After riding out the powerful orgasm, her thighs finally loosened their grip, and she shakily lifted herself off you. She turned, her voice trembling with need, “Need you inside. Please... Need to feel you fill me up.” Her eyes, still reflecting the vulnerability and desire from moments before, pleaded with you.

A mix of surprise and amusement flickered across your face at her unexpected demand for more. “Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with both concern and curiosity. But Scarlett, clearly overwhelmed by her own desire, didn’t even pause to answer. Her hands were already searching through your collection, finding the biggest strap you owned—a 12-inch one she’d never managed to take before. As she fumbled to put the harness on you, her words spilled out in a desperate, almost incoherent stream, “I need it... need you inside, please...”

Before you could fully process the situation, she was already positioning herself, her hands guiding you as she slid onto the massive strap. You watched in awe, shocked by how easily she took it this time, her body sinking down onto you with a determination and hunger that left you speechless. Her eyes fluttered closed, a shudder running through her as she fully embraced the overwhelming fullness she had craved.

Scarlett remained still, her body trembling slightly as she settled onto you, both of you savoring the moment. You stayed there, filling her completely, but instead of moving, you simply held her close, letting the intensity of the moment slowly fade into something softer, more tender. You gently caressed her cheek, then her back, your touch grounding her as she melted into you. Soft murmurs of sweet nothings escaped your lips, reassuring her, praising her. “You’re so beautiful, Scarlett,” you whispered, wiping the tears from her flushed face. Her breath began to slow, the tension easing from her body as she found solace in your embrace.

For what felt like an eternity, you both stayed there, not moving, just being together. Your presence inside her served as a warm, comforting reminder of your connection, filling her in more ways than one. She nestled into the crook of your neck, her breathing even and calm, content in the afterglow. You stroked her hair tenderly, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment.

After about half an hour of peaceful silence, you couldn’t resist teasing her. “You know,” you murmured with a playful smile, “I don’t remember reading anything about a 12-inch strap in that story.”

She let out a soft laugh, too drained to offer more than a weak protest. “Shut up,” she mumbled, her voice laced with affection, before lifting her head just enough to press a tender kiss to your lips. Then, with a contented sigh, she settled back down, resting her head against your chest. She settled back down, resting her head against your chest. You felt her relax completely, her body sinking into sleep, still connected to you in the most intimate way. It remained there, a comforting presence that grounded her as she drifted off, safe and secure in your arms.

[jobean12-blog]

Up for a little game?🤭🤭

How would you meet:

Mob!Bucky, Vampire!Bucky and/or Barista/Baker!Bucky

And how would they ask you out. Or would you ask them out?

Bloody Kisses

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky finally makes you his.

Author's Note: SYDNEY! I've had Vampire!Bucky on my mind with all these new pics of him looking so yummy and then you sent this and I was like eeeeeeee here's my sign! So this is how you would meet and he would definitely be the one making all the moves. Vampire AU is an absolute favorite of mine so I can never get enough of it! Thanks so much for thinking of me and sending this little thot in! Hope you've had a lovely weekend and you enjoy this! HUGS!🥰❤️🥰Thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!

Warnings: Bucky is irresistible in every way and he wants you. Mentions of blood, tension, some softness.

You’re mid conversation when you sense the change. It’s as if the stale air has been sucked away and replaced with something more tangible, something seductive.

Natasha’s eyes are focused on whatever is beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the hall.

Everyone around you seems to be looking in the same direction, so you place your drink down and turn.

A man stands just inside the arched doorway, his black jacket draped over his shoulders, the garment fitted perfectly and accentuating their broad width. His long fingers splay against the lush fabric, a gold ring glinting under the light of chandeliers, and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.

“Do you know him?” Natasha asks.

“No,” you breathe out, nearly swaying on your feet. “But I’m going to make sure I get to know him.”

An inexplicable awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. He approaches and your pulse quickens, the urge to run into his arms something you need to fight against.

He wears all black, from his tight-fitted turtleneck down to his shined shoes and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair but his skin, it glows, smooth and soft.

When he walks toward you, he moves with such a sensual purpose that you notice the other women around you swooning.

But he makes no sign that he notices. His eyes stay trained on you, hungry and determined.

Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, savoring the rapid pulse of your blood.

His lips linger there, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before they open and he smiles, turning your hand over to kiss your palm and then finally, each of your fingertips.

“You taste divine,” he whispers.

Your breath catches in your throat at the forwardness of his words.

You barely hear Natasha’s gasp, this man’s very existence consuming your every thought and somehow you know it’s the same for him. He’s oblivious to anything but you.

He speaks his name, hushed and soft along the shell of your ear, before he pulls you away from the crowd.

“Walk with me?” he asks as he leads you toward the glass doors at the back of the room.

You nod and fall into step beside him, taking his offered elbow.

The fragrance of the night hits you the moment you step outside, the lush gardens on the estate in full bloom and the full moon bright and silvery in the dark sky.

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” you muse as you look up.

“Mm,” he hums, and you bring your eyes back down, feeling the weight of his stare.

It’s hard to look away and you easily fall deeper into an intimacy that you can’t seem to recover from.

“And yet you shine brighter than any,” he murmurs, tucking you closer and brushing his thumb across your bottom lip.

You tremble in his arms, the feeling heady and addictive.

“How come I’ve never seen you before?” you ask as you walk deeper into the gardens.

“And yet it’s as if I know your heartbeat better than any melody that has touched my ears.”

You would swoon if you didn’t have the strength of his arms around you, but some part of your head still remains clear enough to say, “that didn’t answer my question.”

He just smiles and plucks a white flower from the nearby plant as you pass it and holds it under your nose.

“It smells amazing,” you whisper.

“Queen of the night,” he explains. “It only blooms under the cover of darkness and often wilts with the rising sun.”

Your mouth dips into a frown as you look down at the beautiful flower. “So, we can never see it bloom in the sun?”

He takes the stem from your hand and tucks it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

“No,” he says, tucking two fingers under your chin and bringing your gaze to his. “But the night offers so much to be in love with and yet, never asks for anything but our company.”

You let his words sink in and a small smile teases your lips.

His fingers trace their outline, his touch delicate but completely consuming.

Your lips part with a gasp and you feel his body tense against yours, his gaze wandering over your face and down the delicate column of your neck.

His fingertips fall, slowly tracing the outline of your throat and his thumb presses against your wildly beating pulse.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lifting his dark lashes to look you in the eyes.

“No,” you whisper and press yourself closer.

He releases you and pulls you further down the path, bathing you in the shadowed recesses of the overgrowth of plants.

Your back hits the stone wall, the feel of the cool leaves brushing along your skin.

His features look stronger here in the shadows, hard, thrown into sharp relief under the obscured glow of the moon. His cheekbones resemble carved stone, his eyes dark, his lips lush and exaggerated.

He gives you no time to hesitate, gripping your neck, his palm cool and steady while his thumb presses to the hollow of your throat.

It’s possessive and sends a silent thrill up your spine.

A smart girl would push him away. Pretend she’d rather be somewhere else and run for the safety of the light, the safety of the crowded party. r

Instead, you lift your chin and meet the slight dip of his head, your noses brushing and your breath catching.

“I don’t usually meet men like this,” you say. “I hardly kiss on the first date.”

You swallow and close your eyes, opening them again to find him smiling down at you.

“I know,” he says, unbothered. Undeterred.

He licks his lips before he kisses you, innocent and soft. You moan into the kiss, swallowing his mumbled whispers of praise.

Your skin tingles and a heat builds inside your chest, pushing down into your belly where it pools low, down between your legs. You want him so badly you feel restless and urgent, a need you can’t explain clawing in your throat.

You dig your hands into his hair, holding him to you, barely letting him move a breath away.

But it’s all a ruse. He pulls free of your grip easily, the power he holds undeniable, and looks at you with a passion burning in his eyes.

“I have waited a lifetime for you,” he murmurs against your mouth, trailing his lips along your jaw.

Your head falls back against the wall, exposing the soft skin that flutters violently over the flow of your blood.

He kisses softly under your ear, once, twice, and then slides his mouth lower, sucking on your skin until you’re arching into him. The first pierce of his fangs is nothing but euphoria and when he begins to gently suck you cry out his name.

The sip is barely enough to satisfy him and with a great effort he pulls away, lips stained red and blue eyes anchoring yours.

“And all the lifetimes we’ll share will never be enough.”

His words make little sense to you now, your entire existence being slowly devoured by his every touch.

When his large hands grip your hips and he drags you into him again, you go willingly, the sharp sting at your throat setting you ablaze.

This time he doesn’t hold back, drinking you in until your pulse slows, and your eyes begin to dim. You fall limp in his arms, and he gently releases you, trailing a delicate finger along your cheek before he cuts into his wrist and holds it above your parted lips.

“Drink,” he whispers.

You’re weak at first but with his gentle coaxing you suck harder, your strength returning as the taste of his blood moves through you. Revives you.

A feeling like you’ve never experienced before fills all your senses, throbbing in your lips and fingers, in your very skin. And when you meet his eyes once again it’s with new sight, his long fingers reaching up to trace your cheek.

“You,” he whispers, brushing his bloody lips along yours, “are mine for eternity.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Broken Promises

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte

Pairing: Qimir x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a master thief, given the task to steal a lightsaber from a Jedi temple. In the process of getting away, you run into someone you never thought you’d see again.

A/N: slight AU in which Qimir really is just some hot dorky guy and not a hot sexy Sith.

It brought you a sense of pride hearing Jedi scramble about in the middle of the night. Their false sense of security disintegrated after word reaching to them that an intruder had stolen the relic from them - a lightsaber that belonged to an esteemed Jedi knight.

You couldn’t help but let a giggle escape as you climb over the walls of the Jedi temple. You jump down, going into a tuck and roll. You regain your composure and look back down into your satchel, the saber still inside.

You pull up your hood and scarf to cover your face and waltz into the crowd of people celebrating the Moon Festival.

All kinds of people and species don similar robes as you wear. The colors of dark blue and light blue to represent the moons of Tython. Once every few cycles, the moons appear beside each other and is meant to grant good luck and fortune to Tython’s inhabitants. Thus a festival to celebrate that look and fortune emerged.

You knew because of the festival, everyone would be distracted, even the Jedi that lived at the temple that housed the relic saber.

You weave through the crowd, keeping your head low and a firm grip on your satchel. You hear a commotion and look behind you to see a group of Jedi making their way through the crowd, looking for you.

You continue the direction you’re going, trying your best not to look suspicious. As you turn a corner, someone takes hold of your wrist and pulls you into an alley way.

You hand immediately goes to your dagger on your hip. You use your weight to press the assailant against the wall, blade at their neck.

Your eyes widen when you see who grabbed you.

You yanked you hood back and pull your scarf from your face, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“And you’re supposed to be dead.”

You step back and sheath your weapon, “What are you doing here, Qimir?”

The man fixes his robes and sweeps some of his hair out of his face, “I heard a rumor you got hired for a job here. Thought ‘that’s not possible. I watched her die.’ Figured I’d see if I was wrong and,” he gestures to your being, “I was. Here you are living and breathing.”

You scoff, “Yes, I’m sure this is quite a shock considering you left me to die!” You sneer at the man.

He holds his hands up, “To be fair, that was a fatal blow. What was the point of staying?”

“Maybe to see if there was a chance I lived? Which there clearly was!”

You hear the glow of sabers near you and immediately start undoing your dark blue robe, “Switch robes with me. Now!”

“What? Why-“

“Now, Qimir!”

The man scrambles as he undoes his cloak, handing it to you while you toss yours at him. You both quickly re-dress as footsteps near.

“Okay, now-mmf!” Qimir’s words go interrupted as your lips press against his.

The glow of a blue lightsaber causes you to pull away with a gasp, “Oh! Um,” you giggle nervously at the Jedi who seemed uncomfortable to have witnessed you and Qimir in such a state.

The young man clears his throat, “Apologies, but, have you seen a suspicious person dressed in dark blue robes pass by?”

You snort, “A person dressed in dark blue robes? That’s like half of this planet right now.”

“You didn’t see anyone that seemed like they didn’t belong?”

You shake your head, “No, sir. To be quite honest we’ve been a little,” you gesture between you and Qimir, “preoccupied, as you noticed.”

The Jedi uncomfortably clears his throat, “Yes, well, apologies. If you do see or hear anything, please report it to the Jedi temple immediately.”

You salute to the man, “Will do.”

“Um, enjoy your night,” he says before he and the few other Jedi behind him continue around the corner.

You let out a deep breath and look back at Qimir, who was smirking at you, “Did you get better at kissing?”

You roll your eyes and tug him by the sleeve to follow you back out into the crowd. Stumbling after you, he asks, “Where are we going?”

“To meet my client and get my money.”

“Why are you taking me?”

“Because I don’t trust you not to turn me in to those Jedi.”

The further you walk from the celebrations, the quieter things become. Your hold on Qimir doesn’t loosen until you make your way to the forest where you hid your ship.

“Wow,” Qimir stands in awe of the vessel, “You’ve upgraded.”

“Had to since you left me to die and stole my ship.”

You two walk up the ramp and head towards the cockpit. You hear Qimir sigh as he follows you, “You’re still angry about that?”

You throw yourself into the pilot’s seat and start up your ship. Aggressively, flipping switches, pressing buttons, “Yes, Qimir! I’m still angry about it! We were a team! We were lo-“, you stop yourself, “We were friends. I thought I meant more to you than that. I was clearly wrong.”

You slowly bring the ship into the air and go full speed ahead, causing Qimir to fall backward right in his butt.

He groans as he does his best to bring himself to his feet, “I’m sorry! I am!”

Once in the atmosphere, you hit the hyperdrive and go into hyperspace.

You turn in the pilot’s chair to face Qimir, who’s looking down at you with a sad expression, “I hurt you and I’m sorry. But I am glad you’re not dead…and since I didn’t say anything to the Jedi-“

“Oh fuck off!” You stand and push past him, “Just because you didn’t turn me in, you think you deserve a cut?”

“I’m kidding….mostly,” he responds as he follows you to the sleeping quarters. He leans against the wall as you walk behind a changing screen.

“So…you didn’t really think to see me after all this time?” He asks.

You snort, “Again, you left me to die.”

“I don’t know what you would’ve wanted me to do, Y/N.”

After changing into comfier clothes, you stomp out from behind the changing screen, “To stay with me! Even if I were to die, I wouldn’t have been alone! That’s what hurts the most, Qimir! After you promised you’d always be at my side and that you cared about me, the time I needed you the most, you weren’t. You broke your promise.”

Qimir observes your broken expression, the facade of being collected and intimidating having melted away. He slowly walks up to you, slipping his hands into yours, “I know. I’m sorry, but I’m here now. I wouldn’t be here if I still didn’t care. When I heard that you were alive and still taking jobs, I hoped, prayed even, that it was true, that you were alive. That I could see you again.”

He presses his forehead against yours and you sigh, “I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

“You made me work for your trust the first time. I’ll work for it this time as well.” He kisses your forehead and steps back, “Now let’s go get your money, shall we?” He shoots you that grin that made you fall for him all those years ago.

“Don’t make me regret this,” you mumble as you let go of his hands and head back to the cockpit to steer you towards your waiting client.

[pocket-solas]

Lavellan reclined on the lounge, the room dark save for the shifting lights of blueish white wisp spirits hovering in the air. She stroked gentle patterns against Solas’ skin as he lay with his head upon her thighs, her fingers tracing the sharp edge of his ears and down the contours of his neck.

“They’re so beautiful.” She murmured.

Solas nodded in agreement, his eyes never deviating from her upturned face, drinking in her expressions and little sounds of delighted awe.

“Is this what you looked like, before you gained a body?” Lavellan reached out, lifting her finger towards one of the delicate phantasms. Thin tendrils of gossamer light brushed and delicately intertwined with her seeking fingers.

“Of the same ilk. I was much larger, far more sentient than these wisps of intelligence.”

She lowered her gaze to his. The blueish glow illuminated her face, casting her features into sharp relief against the dim backdrop and the orbs of dancing light above her head. “I saw what you once looked like, I think. In one of your frescos.”

“I imagine you did.” He hesitated, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering. “May I ask your thoughts?”

“Beautiful. You were beautiful. Luminous.” She traced a fingertip across his cheeks, connecting the freckles that lay upon his fair skin in little constellations. “You still are.”

He sat up, enough to touch his nose to hers and give her an affectionate kiss.

She felt the curve of his smile as their lips brushed. She placed her hand against his abdomen, feeling the muscles shifting beneath his tunic. “I’m glad you decided to gain a body.”

Solas watched her, half amused, drinking in each graceful movement, the strands of her long hair cascading down her back and falling over a shoulder as she leant forward. “As am I.” Another light kiss. “Now more so than ever.”

She beamed at him. The radiance of her beauty dimming the waltzing lights above. Solas tucked a finger beneath her jaw, stroking her chin with his thumb. His eyes a dark amethyst as he regarded her, his thumb moved to caress the plump flesh of her bottom lip, watching as her mouth opened slightly in response.

He loved her.

How he loved her.

Every beat of her heart echoed within his own soul. His own spirit, once unbound from notions such as love and lust, now clothed in flesh.

He had never looked at her in such a way, not even in their stolen moments back in Skyhold. She saw his eyes drawn magnetically to her lips, the touch of his fingers causing her blood to quicken.

Drawn by the electricity between the two perhaps, a wisp alighted on Lavellan’s shoulder, tangling soft strands of essence in her hair. Solas released his hold on her chin, grinning as he chuckled quietly. “They seem to be drawn to you.”

“Maybe it’s the energies left over from the anchor.”

“Mm, I postulate more readily it is your aura that draws them.” Solas coaxed the wisp from her shoulder where it obediently drifted into the palm of his hand. He raised it back up and allowed it to float once more amongst its brethren. “Your own spirit is a rare and marvelous force, vhenan.”

“I seem to remember you saying something along those lines long ago.”

“Ah…yes.” Solas’ face fell slightly, the act of remembrance for him eternally bittersweet.

Lavellan slid her touch down his shoulders, taking his hands, speaking softly. “Do you remember our first kiss?”

His lips tilted upwards at the well-worn memory. “Every detail.”

She watched the movement of his lushly curved mouth, studying with loving awe the beauty of his features. “How you said it was ill-considered and impulsive?”

She moved in and pressed a kiss to the healing skin under each of his eyes. Kissed all the freckles scattered across his cheeks like stars.

“Yes.” Solas leaned into her, closing his eyes, inhaling her warm breath as it ghosted across him. He pushed aside the guilt still gnawing at him for what he had done to her, allowed it to be consumed and burned away by her persevering love. “I remember it all.” He caught her chin again, moving her so he could see her eyes. “The way you looked at me across the campfire, ‘lingering’ as Madame de Fer aptly described. The rise and fall of your chest becoming more pronounced whenever I would brush against your body in passing, or when healing your wounds.”

“Solas…”

But he continued. “The ache of wishing to forsake all my plans and just be with you. How much that inferno of desire frightened me.” Solas drew her closer, their noses almost touching. “The scent of your hair, the warmth of your skin, the curve of your body, it all threatened to undo me. Undo everything I had worked countless years towards.”

“Do you still think of us as ill-considered and impulsive?” Lavellan had to ask the question, even if she could see how deeply it affected him, the slight wince and tensing of his features.

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To Where Your Soul Travels, There Go I - Chapter 6 - MysticAwareness - Dragon Age: Inquisition [Archive of Our Own]

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — A STARRY SKY AND HOPEFUL EYE

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : nightly routines revolve around keeping watch with zoro, but today is extra special as you get to start his birthday off right with an intimate moment and a special gift.

꒰ contents ꒱ : zoro roronoa x reader ; alcohol mention. elements of hurt/comfort, tooth rotting fluff + filled with love. — WC : 1133

happy birthday zoro ♥︎

“I'm here, don’t be afraid. I won't let anything happen to you.” A familiar, gravelly tone pierces through the thick fog of fear that was slowly consuming you. Zoro’s voice was every bit of him as ever — strong, driven, confident, protective.

It serves as a reassuring melody that tugs on your delicate heartstrings, commanding the attention that you so readily give. A gentle reminder that you’re secure in his arms and safely tucked away from the winds of change and everything else that the Sunny is drifting past.

But it held a serene tenderness that would only surface when the two of you were alone and under the stars, sailing across the open sea where the only witness to your love was the pearly moon that dreamily hung overhead.

You hum softly as you begin to fully wake, feeling the words rumble from his chest and caress your back, soothing all of your fleeting worries away. Zoro had a gift when it came to chasing away demons, a renowned hunter that would protect you from anything that dare brought you harm.

“‘m sorry.” You pivot a little, readjusting yourself to nestle into him better. “I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“What did I say about apologizing?” He roughly gruffs out, a direct juxtaposition to the careful way he was cradling you. “Another nightmare?”

“They come and they go.” The fear of the dream subsides as you take in the night that beautifully envelops you both. 

The stars begin to unveil themselves, gleams of hope scattered across the inky black sky. The sun had long since gone to rest but the night prevails as the two of you keep a watchful eye.

The vibrant colors that once bathed the sky in orange and pink hues were now stripped back without the comfort of the sun. 

Keeping watch was a task you and Zoro would often face together. The norm was that each person would take two hours to complete their shift but overtime, yours had blended together. From the birth of midnight into the early cusps of the morning, this little cozy corner of the world was yours.

Countless times you’ve found solace in each other’s quiet wakes. Words would come far and few in between in favor of soaking up the comforting presence that bloomed whenever you were together. 

Even still, the whispered exchanges were something that never failed to fill you with warmth in spite of the desolate chill of night.

“Get some rest. I'll make sure they don’t come back.” Zoro’s lips faintly brush against your temple in an attempt to ease your troubled mind. Everyone fell victim to the darkness that plagues dreams and he knew all too well the toll they could take.

“I wanna stay up with you.” The looming winter breeze glazes over your face, kissing along your skin in such a way that has you huddling to the source of warmth that surrounds you. “It's your birthday so I want to savor as much time with you as I can before the others wake up.” A pause. “Besides, I got you a little present.”

Zoro shifts a little so he has a clear view of your face, sharp gaze set on you. Mirth swims in his steely eye as he makes contact, lips twitching heavenward.

“A present, huh? Is that why you locked yourself in the crows nest yesterday?” It was true, you had shooed everyone away from the room under the guise of training. But Zoro knew better — you’d never deny him the chance to train with you but he didn’t push it, opting to train on the deck instead.

“Maybe….” You trail off, smiling sheepishly before sliding off of his lap to reach for the gift you had stowed away earlier. The shimmering moon provided enough light for you to see, casting a luminous glow that blankets you both in a loving embrace, glittering with an ethereal magic that only the depths of night could merit.

“You gonna show me or what?” He smirks, his face closer to yours as you settle back in front of him. You nuzzle his nose with the tip of your own, an act of affection he’s grown used to over the time you’ve been together.

Silently, you hand him the small box and your heart thumps viciously against your chest. He opens the tiny, yet neat packaging and is quiet for a moment as he examines what lays within. 

In the box was a carefully leather braided bracelet with a singular bead woven in.

“You like it?” You falter for a moment. Before he can answer, you begin to nervously ramble. “I tucked my vivre card in the bead. That way if we’re ever apart, we can always find each other again.”

There's another pause and the only thing you can hear is your heart screaming for relief as it pounds against the cage of your ribs. Like clockwork, it eases back down as Zoro's face glimmers with an expression you hardly see, one that’s reserved for you during your most intimate moments.

“Hell yeah I like it.” Zoro's cheeks blossom into a soft pink, calloused thumb gliding over the textured leather. His voice becomes nothing but a fresh breath of air. “This is special.”

“It’s…” The word ‘nothing’ escapes you because it couldn’t be further from the truth. It means everything to you. Plus, he’d only chastise you for downplaying such a thing. “Good, I'm glad you do.”

“Put it on me.” Zoro demands, pulling you up into his lap. You hold onto his hand and gently wrap the bracelet around, the pads of your fingers trailing along his skin and he has to hold back a shudder. With a few simple motions, you tighten it so it’s secure and snug but not too much. 

The sunless sky shines again as Zoro smiles at the gift, the light warming you from the inside out and chasing away the chill of night.

“Thank you.” Zoro wraps his arm around your waist, nuzzling his face against your cheek and leaving a kiss there in his wake.

“Of course.” Tension rolls off of your shoulders with the acceptance he so readily gives you. All day, anxiety flooded your veins and took the breath from your lungs as you tried your best to make the perfect gift for him. You even went as far as — “Oh! I almost forgot. I got you something in case you didn’t like it.”

Zoro makes a noise of protest but it almost immediately dies out as he sees you pull his favorite brand of sake out from where you hid it — comically wrapped up in a pink bow.

“Well I'd never say no to this.” He lets out a puff of amusement, taking the bottle from your hand and opening it with ease. “What do you say? Up to share a little drink with the birthday boy?”

“Duh.” A giggle spills from your lips as you watch him hide his smirk with the neck of the bottle, taking a healthy swig. Some of the sake drips down from the corner of his mouth in which you easily scoop it up with your finger, bringing it to your own lips to clean it off. 

He leans in to give you a sweet, sake infused kiss. The slight burn of the alcohol dies down as his eager tongue swipes along your bottom lip, soothing the flames away and drenching you in adoration.

In a few hours, the rest of the crew would wake and who knows what they had planned for Zoro. But right now, with the stars as your only witnesses, this moment was for just the two of you. 

And Zoro couldn’t imagine a better way to start his day than having his favorite person in his lap, a bottle of sake in his hand, and the warmth of love that buries itself into his heart when he looks at the gift you made him.

thank you so much for reading ( ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩) i hope you enjoyed ! ♥︎

[bloddysnow]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?

Synopsis: You are summoned by Sylus in the middle of the night, a familiar occurrence whenever Sylus is drunk. Your encounter is filled with raw passion, where Sylus seeks solace in desperate sex as a way to cope with his inner turmoil.

warnings: nsfw minors dni. Sub! Sylus, soft dom! reader. reader is gn. (cock or strap), possessive behaviour, smoking, alcohol, anal sex. mention of masochism.

It’s three in the morning. The sky is dark, with stars peeking through the occasional cloud. The moon hides behind them, only occasionally slipping out to dimly light the street with its pale glow. You step out of the car, closing the door. The street is empty, everyone around is asleep, and only the sound of your footsteps can be heard.

You walk toward his house. The streetlight nearby casts a dim glow on the pavement, creating long shadows from the trees and bushes. A slight breeze rustles the branches.

You were asleep when the sharp ring of the phone jolted you from sweet slumber. You were ready to curse whoever woke you at such an hour until you saw who was calling.

You picked up the phone and brought it to your ear, still somewhere between sleep and reality. The voice on the other end was raspy, broken, with clear signs of drunkenness. He spoke softly, almost in a whisper:

"Could you come, please?"

As you get closer to the door, you notice that no lights are on. The house stands dark and still, almost abandoned. Pressing the doorbell, you wait, listening to faint sounds coming from inside. The door slowly opened.

Sylus appeared in front of you. He looks completely exhausted. Dark circles under his eyes suggest he hasn’t slept for several nights. He’s wearing a dark robe. His hair was wet, droplets of water clinging to the tips, as if he just got out of the shower.

He just stares at you for a moment, saying nothing, then steps aside, inviting you in without a word, leaving the questions for later.

As soon as the door quietly closes behind you, you feel Sylus suddenly pull you toward him. His lips find yours in a sudden, desperate kiss. He kisses you roughly, pushing you against the wall. His hands grip your clothes tightly, as if afraid you might slip away.

Your teeth clash against each other, and his tongue insistently invades your mouth, greedily sucking on your tongue, leaving you no room to breathe. You can taste the alcohol, and with every second, it becomes more and more apparent. This only makes the kiss wilder. His arms wrap tightly around your neck, pulling you even closer so that there’s no space between you.

Sylus suddenly pulled back, as if trying to control his emotions. He rests his head on your shoulder, his breathing becoming slightly more measured but still hot and heavy. You feel him take a deep breath of your scent. His voice is soft as he whispered directly into your ear:

“[name]… I need you as hell.”

This wasn’t the first time he drunk called you. Every time he was under stress, his only way to cope was to drink and then—call you. You knew this routine by heart: the late-night call, the raspy voice, and the plea to come. You knew that behind this was a deep emotional pain he could never express with words.

It was as if he was trying to drown something inside himself, and in sex with you, he sought comfort, or perhaps salvation. There were moments when, in the heat of passion, you noticed how his body trembled, and tears streamed down his cheeks while he held onto you.

Every time, it left you with mixed feelings. You kept coming because you understood that in those moments, he needed you the most, even though it was hard for you.

Each time you move faster, the leather couch squeaks, making rhythmic sounds.

At some point, you glance down and see Sylus’s body starting to convulse. His legs are tightly wrapped around your torso, knees tucked in, heels pressed against your back. His muscles tense up, and he throws his head back. You see him cum, his sperm spilling onto his own stomach. His face contorts in pleasure, eyes squinted, hands tremble as he clings to you, getting out his orgasm.

Finally, his body relaxed, hands slowly slipping off of you, and grip loosens. You could feel the tension leaving him, and as you get up, you sit beside him. Reaching for a pack of cigarettes, you took one, placing it between your lips, and with a flick of the lighter brought the flame to the edge. The first deep inhaled fills your lungs with smoke.

You heard the leather couch rustling quietly next to you. Sylus slowly moved, sitting on your lap. You pull the cigarette away so as not to accidentally hurt him. His face pressed against your neck. You gently run your hand through his hair, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Sylus, you like it? Feel better now?"

He tilted his head to meet your gaze, staying silent for a few seconds, just looking into your eyes. There’s something in his gaze that you can’t quite comprehend. Slowly, without a word, he reached for your hand wich was holding the nearly smoked cigarette.

Sylus brought it to his chest and, without breaking eye contact, pressed the burning end against his skin, leaving a scorching mark. A soft sizzling sound is heard as it begins to go out. His face remained calm, but you can feel the tension in his body, see how the pain reflects in his breathing.

“I like everything you do with me [name].”

It was truly difficult to understand him. Every gesture, every emotional reaction seemed so contradictory. He was a person who hid his feelings behind masks and extremes, making his behavior almost unpredictable. You tried to make sense of it, but every time you felt like you were only scratching the surface of what was really going on inside him.

He lowered his gaze, the corners of his lips rise in a sly grin when he noticed that you’re hard again.