#and do my piercings count i never remove them

[augustjoy]

You’re…intimidating.

Based on the following ask: For Hotch x reader, could I please request charming witty reader who Hotch has an obvioussss crush on and he's trying to flirt but he's out of practice and she's pretty extroverted, confident so she just doesn't register he's interested and he's getting grief from the team for being all puppy dog eyes at her? Pref non-BAU reader but maybe she works in a different FBI dept or she's a lawyer/consultant they work with often and Hotch is always the first to suggest working with her so he's not being subtle in wanting to spend time with her lol. Feel free to adapt!! Thanks!! ❤️Okay pookie!!! I’ve been thinking about this one and it might end up pretty self-indulgent and for that I am sorry – girlie works for cybercrimes (but transfers to the BAU – sorry it felt right) and she’s the best of the best like Penelope worships her…she’s a little alternative so Hotch admires her from afar because she’s not his usual type just PURE FLUFF

Aaron Hotchner x FBI! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 2674

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Aaron is 45), some explicit language, not an OC but reader is described to have some tattoos and piercings (nothing specific though), reader works for cybercrimes and is SUPER tech savvy, idiots in love, Hotch pining hard, tooth rotting fluff, canon typical violence, mentions of hacking and breaking laws, reader is an extroverted introvert, Reader is called “Agent Z” or “Z” because she is a gen z, let me know if I missed any

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hotchner, this is the third time this month you’ve requested her. I’m beginning to think we should be offering her a spot in the BAU.” Director Cruz teased.

“If she’d be willing, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” Hotch shrugged.

“I’ll put in the consultation request and maybe I’ll bring up the idea of a transfer to her.”

Hotch stood and returned to the sixth floor, promptly running into Penelope, as she was making her way back to the Batcave.

“So, I heard I might be getting some assistance on our next case! You know if you keep inviting Agent Z to join us, I’m going to get used to having her around.”

“Would that be so bad?” Hotch asked.

“No, it definitely wouldn’t…unless she stops coming around.” Penelope retorted.

The look on Hotch’s face gave him away, there was a brief flash of disappointment at the suggestion of you not coming around anymore. He couldn’t bear the thought…which made him even more nervous than you did. Speaking of…

“Hey Hotch!” You called effectively startling him.

“Hello! I uh – I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“Ah well, Cruz emailed the request over and I got the notification, so I figured there was no time to waste.” You shrugged.

“Well, we might as well debrief the team then.” Aaron offered, gesturing toward the conference room.

--

Here’s the deal, Aaron had feelings for you, you had captivated him the first time he saw you. It was a Tuesday in July, the weather had been unforgiving…hot and humid, not ideal for the business attire of FBI agents.

As he made his way into the building, he’d taken note of how nearly everyone had their suit jackets or blazers slung over their arms, their sleeves rolled up as they hurried into the air-conditioned building.

But then there was you. You were wearing these chunky black loafers and black trousers, your top had been a simple black tank, it was hugging your skin in a way that made Aaron’s mouth go dry. You had a checkered cardigan tossed over your forearm that you had clearly removed. It allowed Aaron a view of the tattoos that adorned your arms.

He couldn’t explain the pull he felt…you had been so different from any woman he’d ever had any interest in before, but maybe that’s why things never worked out with them. Maybe the others were too stiff, too proper. Maybe he needed a little chaos in his life.

--

During the debriefing, Aaron had made sure you were sat next to him. He let Penelope present the case as usual and allowed time for theories. While Derek and Emily were talking back and forth about the possible age and gender of the unsub, Aaron’s eyes were trained on you. He could see your mind running a mile a minute.

“What is it?” Aaron asked, tapping your arm gently.

“Oh, no. I was just thinking. There’s something about the photo’s that were left at the crime scene…it feels familiar.” You shrugged.

“Have you seen another case like this?”

“I think so…” You pulled open your laptop and began searching through old case files and evidence you’d logged over the years. “Here! Hotch, look at this!”

Aaron leaned over, leaving hardly any space between the two of you. His gaze shifted from your profile to your computer screen, taking in the images before him. On your screen were photos that were nearly identical to those in the file the team had just reviewed.

It seemed as though this unsub took photos to document their work. Leaving some behind at the crime scenes, taunting law enforcement.

“We didn’t have very many leads back when this came across my desk, but I have new programs I can use to run these photos through now and with Penelope’s help, I think we could finally get this guy.” You explained.

“Alright, why don’t you travel with us so you can access the physicals of the photos.” Aaron suggested.

“Okay!”

“Alright then, wheels up in thirty.” Aaron commanded.

--

“Hey Agent Z! You joining us again?” Derek nudged you gently.

“Not this time, I was just asked to come and consult on a case.” You replied.

 “Oh, I see. Bossman calling in his favorite once again.”

“Stop! It’s not like that Derek.”

“Girl…you and I both know that it is.” Derek laughed and walked off.

You made your way to Aaron’s office, knocking on the door. When he calls out for you to enter, you go straight for the chair in front of his desk, plopping into it with a huff.

“You alright?” Aaron asks, concern lacing his tone. “We could do this later if you’re not up for it.”

“No! I’m happy to help! I’ve just got a decision to make, and I don’t know what to do.” You sighed. “Let’s talk about this case!”

Aaron and you went through the case that had been sent in from the NYPD. You were confused as to why he’d called you in to consult, the case had seemed pretty cut and dry…something Aaron would typically delegate to Derek or Dave. The tech aspect to this case was so minute, it was common sense…but you didn’t want to call him out on it.

--

“Thanks again for your help, hopefully the NYPD can close that case pretty quickly now.” Aaron walked you over toward the elevators.

“Any time. I like working with you and the BAU.” You smiled cheerfully.

“So um, what was that decision you have to make?” He inquired.

“Oh, uh…well, Cruz asked me if I wanted to transfer from Cybercrimes over to the BAU actually.”

“That’s great! I mean – I uh. Do you think you’ll do it?”

“I’m thinking about it for sure! It’s just, I’ve been with Cybercrimes for so long, I’d feel bad leaving them…ya know?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You said your goodbyes and you headed back to your office on the eighth floor. Aaron stood there for a bit, looking after you as you made your exit. He stood there a beat longer before turning and heading back to his office. Only he didn’t get that far. Upon walking through the glass doors, he was met with the whole team standing there waiting for him.

“You’re down bad Hotch.” Emily said.

“Yeah, that was almost painful to watch.” JJ agreed.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Hotch shook his head and made his way back to his office.

--

Agreeing with the director to have you transferred was, quite possibly, the dumbest decision that Aaron could have ever made. He already struggled just being near you when you’d come and assist, but the thought of having you around all the time…what was he meant to do?

Subject: Agent Transfer – Effective immediately Good afternoon, This email is being sent to inform both the CCU and BAU of the immediate transfer of Agent Z. In discussing this transfer, she assured me that should the CCU need her assistance in a case, she’d happily help. She does, however, know that the agents on the team are more than capable of handling things. As for the BAU, given her expertise and background, she will travel with you as needed. I just want to remind you that Agent Z has a background in hacking, computer forensics, criminal justice, psychology, behavior analysis, amongst others. Utilize her skills – I believe she will make an incredible contribution to the BAU. Hotchner – her file was delivered to your office this morning. Also, she needs firearms training, please ensure she completes this before travelling with the team. Let me know if you have any questions. Mateo Cruz - Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit

Aaron read the email four times. You would be starting with the team today…he needs to get you scheduled for your firearms training and qualification exam. He figured he could do that while you get settled in the office adjacent to Penelope’s.

--

“Hey Hotch.” Your fingers rapped against the doorframe.

“Hi-Hello. Can I uh, show you to your office?” He asked.

“Penelope already beat you to it.” You teased. “But if you want to help me bring the last of my boxes down, that would be awesome.”

“Oh, I um-I…can-”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to! You’re a busy man, and I can ask Spence or Derek!”

“No, I’d love to help.” Aaron recovered.

“Okay.” You smiled.

Aaron led the two of you over to the elevator, allowing you to enter first, then following suit and pressing the button for the eighth floor. It slowly lifted before signaling your arrival on the CCU floor.

You guided Aaron to your old office where the last two boxes remained. There was an IT guy loading your monitors onto a cart, getting ready to move them for you. You looked around at the now empty space…it felt empty now, like it no longer belonged to you, and you supposed it didn’t anymore. Aaron couldn’t help but notice the slight sadness that took over your features.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just odd, having had this office for the last four years, and now it’s empty…it’s not mine anymore.” Your gaze shifted downward. “It feels like the end of a chapter. While the feeling isn’t bad, because I’m really excited to be joining the BAU, it just feels kind of sad.”

“I know what you mean. I felt that same way when I left the law firm I worked at.” Aaron looked over at you.

You met his gaze, and he offered a small smile. You returned it, feeling this sense of comfort. He’d always brought up that feeling in you though. It was like this glowing warmth that spread its way through your entire being…but that flame only burned in you when he was around.

--

“And hold it just like that, good!” Aaron praised.

You fired three consecutive shots at the target, forming a neat cluster in the outlines chest. Pride bloomed in Aaron’s chest, and you squealed with excitement, throwing your arms around him!

“Thank you so much for helping me! There was no way I was going to pass this exam without you!”

“I’m not sure how you’ve been with the bureau this long and not had to get your firearm qualification.” Aaron shook his head with a laugh.

“Hey! I have been confined to the eighth floor for the last five-ish years, I haven’t needed to carry one.”

Aaron took note of the freckles that dusted your nose, and the way the light reflected in your eyes. He thought for a moment about how close you were, and how easy it would be to just lean in the last few inches and capture your lips in a kiss. But he had to shake the thought away.

--

“I PASSED!” You shouted, running your way through the BAU bullpen.

“Good lord, what are you yelling about?” Dave asked, coming out of his office.

“I PASSED! I PASSED!” You waved your firearms certificate in the air, making your way over to Aaron’s office.

He exited his office to see what the commotion was all about, seeing you shaking your hand, waving a piece of paper around like a mad woman. He was mesmerized by you. You were 100% yourself and he admired you for it, you weren’t worried about how others perceived you. You only worried about your own opinion; you wanted to be the best version of yourself always.

“HOTCHHH, I PASSED!” You ran over to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck.

Aaron held you tight, lifting you off the ground for just a moment before noticing the look on Dave’s face. He placed you down and quietly congratulated you. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at getting caught by Dave. He knew that he had done nothing wrong…but he also knew that Dave could read him better than anyone else.

--

“Okay, when are you going to ask that girl out?” Dave huffed, sitting in the chair across from Aaron.

“Dave.” Aaron scolded. “It’s inappropriate.”

“Aaron…you deserve it. Happiness I mean. So, are you going to let it pass you by or are you going to seize the moment?”

“Sir, I don’t mean to interrupt, but we have a case.” Penelope informed. “It’s a child abduction.”

“Let everyone know we’re leaving now – we will brief on the plane.” Aaron commanded.

“Is Z going with you?” Penelope asked.

“Yes!” Dave answered for Aaron.

--

Aaron always sat next to you on the plane. It had been purely accidental, you’d sat in his usual seat and though Aaron wouldn’t say anything, Spencer did. So, you moved over into the adjacent window seat and Aaron slid in next to you. Since then, you’d always sat there.

Like now for example, the BAU was headed home after a two-week long case. The unsub had been way too good at covering his tracks, he’d had the entire team stumped. Thankfully you’d found his slipup in a dark web chatroom. He’d posted video of him torturing his latest victim in a chatroom used by very sick people. It was flagged once you’d turned on notifications for keywords and certain video content. After receiving the notification, Penelope and you were able to track an IP address and narrow down the location.

It had been exhausting honestly, running around, back and forth, interviewing people, going through evidence, just going until you found this guy…and now that was finally catching up to you. Your head had been bobbing off to the side as you fought the throws of sleep. As you began dozing off once more, Aaron reached over and led your head to rest on his shoulder. You finally settled and snuggled a bit further into his side, and for once he leaned back and let himself rest on the flight home.

Emily pointed JJ and Derek’s attention over to the two of you and then giggled. Derek quickly snapped a picture and sent it in their group chat. Penelope was quick to reply with the happy tears emojis and saying “finally”.

--

Things had shifted slightly after that. And while the team still teased Aaron about his very obvious crush on you, he finally allowed himself to be more confident in his interactions with you. He realized that Dave was right…maybe he did deserve happiness.

He’d invited you to get lunch with him a few times during work and he’d brought you coffee. He thought he was making his affection for you more obvious…but you still didn’t budge. He was beginning to worry that you didn't feel the same.

But it all came to a head when he decided he needed to be direct. Not on his own…Emily and JJ had to confront him and then convince him that you did like him, you just didn’t think he liked you.

--

You walked into the elevator, just about to click the button to the sixth floor when an arm reached in to stop the door from closing.

“Oh! Good morning Hotch.” You greeted. “Sorry, if I had seen you coming I’d have held the door.”

“No worries.” He forgave. “Do you um – do you have any plans tonight?”

“No, I was thinking of ordering a pizza and watching an episode of The Great British Bake Off. What about you?”

You’re reply had been so innocent and sweet. Just a simple response to his question, not reading into what he was truly asking you.

“Sweetheart, though your plans sound wonderful…will you go to dinner with me tonight?” He asked.

Your jaw dropped, only for a moment as you worked to regain your composure. Had you really been that blind? The girls had told you time and time again that he was interested, and you’d brushed it off, not wanting to get your hopes up…but here he is now, asking you out.

“I would love to.” You smiled.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[yungistiny]

camgirl ═ chapter two

[ S. Mingi ]

chapter two: spike

╚═════════

summary: mingi just really needs some cash and he was told all he had to do was hold a camera. simple enough. he just didn’t anticipate the type of content he’d be helping to create

warning: emo mingi, stoner mingi, switch mingi, switch reader, mingi is hung, creampie, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, masturbation, rough sex, degradation, size kink, spitting, deep throating

pairing: mingi x afab/reader

genre: smut, angst, drama, romance

word count: 3.5K

chapter one

chapter three

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Mingi was sat in the cushioned and actually really fucking comfortable pink computer chair as y/n grabbed everything she needed for this particular livestream. His eyes never left her, taking in the toys she sat on her bed, the two white towels she went and grabbed from the bathroom.

He never looked away from her until his phone alerted him of a new message. Mingi was tempted to ignore it but grabbed his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and rolling his eyes at the name that stared back at him.

woo: are you with y/n??

mangi: I’m gonna kill you

woo: please you love me right now

mangi: 🖕

woo: 😣

woo: I got a bet with y/n on how long you’ll last 😌

mangi: how much?

woo: just $100

woo: she thinks you won’t make it before the first orgasm but I bet her you’ll go all the way hard and all 🫡

Mingi looked back at y/n as she pulled her thick pink comforter blanket off the bed, folding it and placing it on small pink cushioned stool she moved from the end of her bed to the side.

She thought he wouldn’t last?

Y/N turned around, why was she suddenly nervous under Mingi’s gaze? She’s literally had thousands of strangers watch her get herself off but the dark heat in her new cameraman’s eyes flustered her. “You ready?”

Mingi removed his glasses, sitting them on her desk behind him as he stood, grabbing the camera back up and turning it on. He connected to the streaming site she had showed him, ready to go live on her signal with already over 300 viewers waiting for it to start.

“When I give you this signal,” y/n gave him a come here movement with her index finger, the almond shaped black nail, a stark contrast to the pink, much like Mingi himself, very tempting. “zoom in, or if I use my middle finger that way, change the angle a bit.”

Mingi darted his pierced tongue out, distracting y/n a brief moment as he wetted his lips. “Got it.” His voice was almost unrecognizable from how deep it had gotten and y/n had to pretend like it wasn’t him the cause of the arousal slick wetting her underwear.

“Just a second..” She sat atop her bed, legs crisscrossed and Mingi briefly caught the glimpse of the wetness soaking through her pink Calvin Kleins. He bit his lip to keep from smirking. “Ok, start it.” Y/N looked so innocent with her hands placed in her lap and all the pink and fuck Mingi wanted to ruin her and he didn’t care how many watched.

The second they went live, Mingi had to get a hold of himself because he knows she was looking into the camera but the smirk she sent directly towards it, towards him, he could already feel his dick twitch.

He watched her read comments that viewers were leaving from the stream on her phone, she did that for a few minutes before sitting the phone down and pulling herself up onto her knees.

Mingi followed her movements, zooming in as she reached for the pink silicon dildo she had decided to get out for this stream. It wasn’t big but it also wasn’t too small and he briefly wondered if she could take him? One thing Mingi would always be cocky about is having a big dick.

And he was certainly bigger than the dildos and vibrators he’d seen in her cabinet.

Mingi glanced back towards the computer monitor where the livestream was also being displayed, the views already growing over a thousand quickly, the chat and comments section spammed by all the horny anonymous fans and viewers.

“I feel like today you all deserve to be teased.” Her voice was so dominant when she said it, so sultry and hot that Mingi knew this was gonna be a difficult situation to keep his cool. Though he had no control over his dick getting hard. “I have a new cameraman….” Her lustfull gaze stared right at him, smirk growing as the viewers spammed even more comments at the mention of Mingi being there too. “and I want to see how long he can last.”

Fuck. Mingi clenched his jaw and followed her with the camera as she slowly removed her shirt, a pink lace bra kept her breast hidden still but Mingi was already hard as hell and he didn’t care if she noticed the prominent bulge in his baggy jeans or not.

Y/N reached for the small pink vibrator, something she always used during her streams, it connecting with the streaming site so viewers who paid a little extra could control the settings however they wanted. She held it by the long little tail, never breaking eye contact with Mingi. “What do you all think…” she bit her lip, looking directly into the camera. “should I play with him?” She giggled, feigning innocence. “Maybe next time?”

Next time? What the fuck did she mean play with him? Mingi watched her pull her Calvin Kleins off, feeling as if he were being tortured as she gave him the signal to zoom into her naked, bare, soaking wet cunt. He had to bite back a deep moan at the sight of her leaning back, spreading her legs open and pushing the small pink vibrator inside of her, the little pink tail the only part left visible.

It took everything in him for Mingi to not just join her in the livestream right then and there at the sound of the moan that left her.

“Spike..” it took Mingi a long moment to realize y/n was talking to him, masking his real name with a false one that had him curious as to why Spike? He didn’t speak, looking at her with an arched brow. “Get on your knees.”

What? Mingi furrowed his brows together as y/n gave him a commanding stare. “Now.”

Fuck.

Did she act like this with the others? Did she do this to Wooyoung? Mingi steadied the camera, kneeling to one knee first then the other, never breaking eye contact with y/n as he went. “Come here.” She gave him that come here movement with her finger but it was certainly not a signal to zoom in.

Mingi slid across the carpeted floor, his jeans snagging slightly before he stopped right directly in front of y/n at the foot of her bed.

“Do you want to help me?” She held a teasing tone but her question was meant to ask for his consent and Mingi was nodding so quickly he almost gave himself a head rush.

Mingi was sure this wasn’t part of the actual job but shit, at this point he’d work for free. “Show me your hand.” Y/N bit her lip as he held up his free hand to her, his right hand that had a chunky metal ring on the index, middle finger and thumb. And fuck they were long.

“Go ahead,” She smiled sweetly down at him and Mingi was so hard, almost achingly so, as he glanced down towards her aching cunt right in front of him. “while I see what our viewers are saying.” Y/N picked her phone up to start scrolling and occasionally reading out comments.

Mingi looked at the camera in his other hand and frowned for a second before reaching his long arm out to place the camera on top of the blanket on the little cushioned pink stool.

“Fuck…” Y/N gasped, eyes wide as Mingi dived in, tongue already flat against her clit, his piercing a new sensation she had never experienced before as it added an extra little tickling sensation that was causing that familiar tightness and heat to pool in her lower abdomen.

Mingi didn’t give a shit who saw him. Who was witnessing him eat her like a starved man. Because it was him having her suddenly a moaning mess. He was practically growling into her as he tasted everything he could. And fuck he was already becoming completely pussy drunk.

Y/N threaded a hand into his hair, grinding herself against him, the camera angled just perfectly on them. The views grew, the comments spammed madly, all demanding more of Spike.

“Mi…. Spike…” y/n felt her legs wrap around him, shaking slightly as he sucked her clit into his mouth, reaching a hand up as multiple donations came through sending the little pink vibrator on a constant high as Mingi grasped the tail, thrusting it into her deeper, pulling it back out only to do it again.

“I’m… fuck…” y/n couldn’t even form anything remotely coherent, her walls clenching around the vibrator and an actual scream leaving her, mumbling into a whimpering moan as she came the second Mingi thrusted the vibrator against her g spot.

Mingi pulled his head back, smirking when he snatched the vibrator from her, y/n gripping his hair hard as she rode out her orgasm.

But he wasn’t done and y/n certainly wasn’t reading comments as Mingi stood up, flipping her over and pulling her up against him, back to his chest as Mingi lifted her, facing them directly towards the camera.

Mingi kept most his face hidden in the crook of her neck, one sharp eye gazing into the camera as he spoke. “I’m not done helping you yet.”

Y/N knew fucked dumb already because the livestream was the last thing on her mind when Mingi’s arm wrapped around her and his hand cupped her before sinking two of his long thick fingers into her, curving them and poking at that spongey spot that had her moaning again, head thrown back against his chest and whimpering when she felt his thumb start rubbing at her slightly overstimulated clit.

Was she fucking crying? She knew she was being loud because she could hear herself though it sounded as if she were hearing under water.

And then she was coming again, definitely whimpering and crying from the high of it as Mingi fucked her through it with his fingers. Y/N gripping at his arm wrapped around her, nails digging into him as she shook and started squirting on her carpeted floor and all over Mingi’s hand, some of it even spraying the camera lens.

And now she owed Wooyoung money but she didn’t care because it had been a while since anyone else made her come and having Mingi have her like that in front of who knows how many viewers had y/n on an adrenaline high.

She’d never had anyone else with her like that during a stream. Y/N didn’t really think Mingi would do anything when she teased him but now she could kiss Wooyoung for sending him to her.

Mingi waited until she relaxed in his hold, sitting her back down on the edge of her bed as he walked over to pick the camera back up, sucking his fingers clean and snatching one of the towels y/n had gotten in case of a mess to wipe the lens off.

Y/N looked into the camera, the stream letting everyone see her dazed and fucked out expression and Mingi was smirking, his tongue poking out as he waited for her to continue.

He looked back at the computer and his eyes widened at the views. Over 5000 and counting. 5000 people just watched him make a mess of y/n and he briefly wondered if anyone he knew was watching too….

Y/N reached for her forgotten phone where it lay beside the little pink vibrator Mingi pulled out of her.

The views were a new high for her, the comments begging for more of Mingi, or Spike. Donations were plenty and y/n knew then that Mingi was about to become a permanent fixture in her streams.

Mingi was surprised and shockingly a little disappointed when y/n ended the stream after promising everyone that Spike would be back.

“Well,” Y/N grabbed one of the towels wiping herself dry before pulling her Calvin Kleins back on, followed by her shirt. “they love you.”

Mingi sat the camera back on the desk, grabbing his glasses. “I didn’t like….” He pushed the black rimmed frames back up the bridge of his nose. “overstep anything, did I?” He had certainly got blindsided by lust for a moment.

“No.” Y/N was swiping away at her phone, pulling up her contacts. “Took me off guard a little though.” She smiled at him and Mingi felt his heart flutter. What the fuck was that?

“What’s your number?”

They exchanged numbers and y/n also sent him his payment to his account.

“I’m doing another stream Friday,” Mingi followed behind her back downstairs, the city life now dark out. “same time, get here a little early though.” Y/N watched him slip his combat boots back on.

“Also….” She bit her bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth. “what do you think about a blowjob next time?” Her gaze lingered down to the prominent bulge in his jeans.

Her question had Mingi freeze with his hand on the doorknob. “What?” She wanted to give him head? She wanted to take him right in front of everyone? “You sure you want everyone to see how much of a mess I’ll make you?”

Mingi grinned at her, opening the door, biting back a smirk at the way y/n stood speechless behind him.

“See you Friday.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

It was getting colder out, his long sleeved shirt not doing much for Mingi against the chilly night wind as he stared down at the atm receipt in his hand.

With the money his mom sent him and what he had just made from helping y/n, 1.2 million won sat in his account. Mingi grinned, the broody and moping mood he had been in now gone. He sent his mom back the money she had given him earlier that day and went to his weed man’s contact.

Johnny Suh had been Mingi’s dealer since freshman year of college. He lived only a couple of blocks from Mingi’s own apartment building. He had just gotten back to his side of the city after leaving y/n and really needed a blunt. He had smoked all his stash earlier.

Johnny let the call ring four times before he answered it. “Well, well, well…” he sounded amused, a bit teasing. “I’m assuming you’re coming over? How much?”

Mingi told him what he needed, ending the call and shoved his phone into his pocket and starting the walk over, just passing the convenience store Wooyoung worked at, gasping when someone snatched him pulling him inside.

“What the fuck?” Mingi glared at Wooyoung as he turned the stores open sign off, staring at Mingi in shock. “I should be asking you that!”

Wooyoung was grinning crazy at him, giggling. “That was the best stream y/n has ever done!”

“You watched it?” Mingi shoved Wooyoung off of him. “Of course I did! I had to make sure I won the bet.” He smirked at Mingi, loving the fact he had been right. He knew if there was one person that could match y/n freak, it would certainly be Song Mingi.

“You were the one that said I’d be perfect for the job.” Mingi was giving him that crooked grin of his, Wooyoung eyeing his hand as Mingi fixed his glasses. The same hand and fingers that deliciously had y/n fucked out only a little time ago.

“Are you going back?” Wooyoung saw the way y/n gaze had watched Mingi in the stream, saw the want and need in her eyes. “Friday.” Mingi answered, moving past Wooyoung to grab some munchie food for later while he was there.

“Y/N never let anyone join her before like that.” Wooyoung followed him around the store as Mingi picked up numerous ramen, some chips and a few sodas. “She usually puts a rule down beforehand.”

Mingi dropped all his stuff down on the counter, Wooyoung going back behind it to ring everything up. “Not once?” Now Mingi was curious, why was he the exception?

“Nope.” Wooyoung smirked as Mingi pulled his phone back out to tap to pay. “Well, I still have a hard on and I need to go pick up my weed…” it was true too. His bulge was no longer prominent after the taxi ride back but it was certainly still aching and all Mingi wanted right now was a blunt and a cold shower.

“Ok, ok,” Wooyoung was done messing with him, turning the open sign back on. “but don’t I at least get a thank you?”

Mingi flipped him off on his way out, grinning the entire time as he gripped the shopping bag with all his snacks inside.

Wooyoung pouted, feigning hurt.

“Rude.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

“Well,” Johnny opened his apartment door, grinning at Mingi. “if it isn’t Spike!”

Mingi’s eyes widened when the name registered. “You watched it too?” Wooyoung was enough but Johnny too? They were never gonna stop pestering him about it. How many more of his friends were fans of y/n?

“I’d recognize your ass anywhere, Spike.” Johnny smirked at him as he let Mingi inside where Johnny’s best friend and roommate, Jaehyun, was sitting on the couch, bong in hand, smoke blowing from his mouth and coughing a little.

“Aye,” Jaehyun grinned at Mingi and Mingi already knew he saw it too. “Spike!”

Johnny laughed as he grabbed Mingi’s baggy, the weed concealed inside a solid neon green ziplock. “Jaehyun tried it once, didn’t last ten minutes.”

“Hey!” Jaehyun glared at Johnny. So Jaehyun had tried to help y/n before? Mingi assumed with Johnny being Wooyoung’s dealer too, that his friend must of been the one to send him. “It’s not my fault she’s hot!”

Mingi played with his tongue piercing, contemplating. Jaehyun was a very attractive guy with a voice to match so again, why was Mingi the exception for y/n to let him join her?

“So everyone knows it was me?” Mingi really didn’t care, something in him awakening and loving that y/n only let him join her. Loved that everyone knew how good he could get her off. How much of a mess he could make her.

“You’re the only 6ft emo we know with pink hair.” Johnny snorted as he sat down beside Jaehyun, grabbing the bong and repacking the bowl. “And you weren’t exactly discreet.”

Mingi stayed at Johnny’s long enough for Jaehyun to interrogate him on how he got y/n to let him join only to answer him with a shrug every time as he got in a few hits from the bong before shoving his bag of weed into the waistband of his underwear and leaving.

San was watching a cooking video on tiktok when Mingi got home, standing in the kitchen with a bowl of something red that Mingi did not want to know what it was. San was a horrible cook. Byeol hopped onto the kitchen counter, sniffing the red substance in the mixing bowl before hissing and jumping back down.

“What the hell are you cooking?” Mingi reached down to pat Byeol as she rubbed against his leg, sniffing him. “I’m trying to make kimchi.” San didn’t remove his gaze from his phone. Mingi snorted. “Good luck with that.” He went to his room, dropping his bag of snacks onto his bed before walking across the hall to the bathroom.

His shower started out cold, Mingi slowly easing it to warm after his hard on had subsided but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get y/n out of his head. Her moans. Her scent. Everything was invading him and refusing to leave him alone.

The shower head poured over him, steam enveloping the bathroom as Mingi gripped himself in his hand, closing his eyes and picturing y/n on her knees in those little knee high socks. It was only Tuesday and he wouldn’t see her again until Friday.

Mingi slowly started to stroke himself, his imagination giving him the perfect image of what he wanted Friday. Y/N had practically asked if she could give him head and he was certainly not going to deny her.

“Fuck…” he bit his bottom lip as his strokes grew faster, pants leaving him as he could only imagine how heavy he’d feel on her tongue. Ached to see how far she could take him. How long she could go while he fucked her mouth, make her gag and become a complete ruined mess.

He came just as San knocked on the door saying he was ordering Chinese instead after giving up on his attempt at kimchi.

Mingi couldn’t care less.

He just needed it to hurry up and be Friday already.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @dejatiny @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @hannahlilibet411

[hihomeghere]

Salt and Pepper | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word count : 1.4k Summary : Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray. I saw a post on here about Arthur with salt and pepper hair and I couldn’t stop myself hehe. Warnings/Tags : talk about death, getting old, Arthur loves his wife, no tb, Arthur and reader own a house, mention of past gang members, cursing, lots of fluff, self deprecation on Arthur’s side, bullets, mention of weight gain (in a positive way)

“Godamn ugly bastard.” Arthur huffed, his gaze piercing as he looked into the mirror. He hadn’t meant to have himself a pity party this morning. In fact he was feeling quite fine this morning before looking in the small bathroom mirror. Waking up next to you always puts a spring in his step. Especially when he’s waking up in a real bed, underneath a soft quilt that you happened to sew in some free time. Mismatched patches and all, it was his favorite thing in the small home you two shared. Hell, you were becoming quite domestic ever since the house was completed.

But he wasn’t exactly expecting to find gray hair sprouting from his hairline. He wasn’t that old, was he?

“Jesus.” He sighed, inspecting further he realized it wasn’t one or two gray hairs, it was almost twenty. Hidden under his longer than normal locks after forgoing a haircut for the last couple weeks. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed them, especially with how much you loved to run your fingers through his hair. Although, he loved it just as much, maybe even more.

God, he needed to get rid of these before you saw them. He was sure you had some tweezers around here somewhere. He opened up your drawer, rifling around for your tweezers. Bingo. His hands gripped the small piece of metal, a triumphant smile on his face.

It was only once he looked back up into the mirror, determined to fix this issue before you woke up, that he noticed you padding into the bathroom. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Mornin’.” You hummed, laying your cheek against his bicep, smiling sweetly at him through the mirror.

“Mornin’.” He said, clearing his throat.

“What do you need those for?” You asked, eyeing the tweezers in his hand. Caught red handed, he tried coming up with some excuse.

“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He said, giving you his signature smile, kissing your forehead. He slipped the tweezers into his pocket for safe keeping, at least until he had a free moment without you around. After all those years on the run and he could come up with nothing, Hosea would have been so disappointed in his lack of an answer. He swore he could hear the old man chastising him now.

“For a former outlaw you sure are an awful liar.” You tutted, shaking your head, slipping your fingers into his pocket and pulling out the tweezers.

“Well it ain’t my fault,” He huffed playfully, “Could never get nothin’ past you anyway.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You removed your hands from around his waist, leaning back on the sink as you looked up at him.

“Spill.” You said raising an eyebrow, your arms crossed over your chest.

Knowing he’d been caught, Arthur hung his head, a low sigh leaving his lips.

“It’s just-“ He cursed, turning to look away from you, “Well I’m goin’ gray.” He admitted, not meeting your eyes.

“And?” You asked in such a nonchalant manner.

“And?” He asked looking up at you, his brows furrowed.

“So you have some gray hairs.” You said with a shrug, “You’re acting like the damn world is ending.” You chuckled softly, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Well-“ Arthur sighed, pursing his lips, he didn’t want to be vain but damn it, it did feel like the world was ending.

“Honey.” You said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Ain’t nothing wrong with some gray hairs.” You said, shaking your head, looking so goddamn patient as always. What he did in a past life to deserve you he would never know, he definitely didn’t deserve you in this one. You smiled, running your thumb over his couple day old stubble. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, leaning into your touch.

“Just makes me feel old ‘s all.” He shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Arthur.” You said softly, he opened his eyes. His bright azure pools looking into yours. “Getting old means we’re still alive.” You said pointedly, not missing the way your fingers trailed lightly down his chest.

He sighed softly, anyone who said he was the most like Hosea had obviously never had a one on one conversation with you. You had shared the same dry wit along with being just as wise as the old man. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were more closely related than just being adopted by him as a kid.

As your hand settled over his heart, he couldn’t help but remember a time when you didn’t have this place. When his next breath had been an undeserved blessing. When you and Charles had pulled his broken body off that godforsaken mountain. You were right, he should be grateful for these gray hairs and new lines on his face. Should be grateful that he made it this far out west with you, where the air was dryer and slowly his lungs didn’t hurt as bad with each breath.

If anything he should be grateful that you’re here, here in this house. The house that he built specifically for you. That you’re not buried six feet under like most of the fellow gang members. That you didn’t catch a bullet like Lenny or Sean, how he wished they could have had the chance to grown old. Even as mouthy as Sean was, the poor bastard didn’t deserve that. Lenny was just a boy, foolish enough to be sucked in by Dutch’s silver tongue. He shook his head trying to clear any thoughts of the past.

God, along with the fact that somehow both of you still happen to be standing, the fact that you chose to stand by him after everything you went through makes his head swim. You could have left him at any point, hell he had begged you to leave after his death sentence. And yet, here you were.

“Guess you’re right.” He said, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Course I am.” You teased, a smile spreading across your face. You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his. He accepted your silent invitation, pressing his lips against yours. So soft and warm and inviting. He could feel you smile against his lips. That small smile warmed him from the inside out, nearly making his toes curl.

Jesus, he was lucky. More than lucky, he still couldn’t figure out how he had tricked you into marrying him. He wanted to be the best version of himself for you, he had made a promise to try every day to be a better man for you. You shouldn’t be tied down to a miserable old fool like himself.

As if you could read his mind, which he often suspected you could, your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Besides,” You began as you pulled away, “I like the salt and pepper look.” Arthur scoffed, shaking his head.

“Really?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Really.” You nodded, running your hand through his hair. “Think you get more handsome every day.” If anyone was getting prettier every day it was you. Your hair was longer, cascading down your shoulders in waves. No longer tied up in a tight braid or bun. You looked relaxed, at peace. You became softer once you both settled into your new lifestyle. Not just emotionally, although you still had that fire which had first drawn him towards you, like a moth to a flame. You were physically softer, your harsh edges smoothing out as you started to eat and sleep better. Your curves became more prominent, and he certainly didn’t mind having more to hold onto late at night.

Maybe you truly did feel the same about him. He had never known you to lie. A blush settled on his cheeks at the thought. He shook his head, a small chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Yeah, alright darlin’.” He says taking your face in his hands, kissing you again before you had the chance to embarrass him further.

Maybe getting old wasn’t so bad if you had someone to grow old with.

[navybrat817]

Eva, this is an attack!

Sweet as Candy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you're the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Established relationship, fingering, implied explicit sexual content, being in love, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I wanted to do something more, but the muse refused and we don't push. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky was quiet throughout dinner, which wasn’t unusual. Most nights he was content to listen to you and all of your friends talk about your day or trade stories about parts of missions that you could discuss. Even when Steve, Sam, or anyone else spoke, his piercing blue eyes stayed glued to you. As if your reactions were more important than the words everyone else spoke.

But tonight, the menace had his eyes on you for a completely different reason.

“Buck, you aren’t eating much,” Steve noted as he helped himself to another plate.

“I’m in the mood for something a little sweeter,” he replied.

Your boyfriend didn’t look toward his best friend when he brought his hand to his lips and softly smiled. Sitting across from him you tried to close your legs, but he had his foot between them the moment you sat down. The unsubtle bastard inhaled, smelling your arousal that lingered on his fingers and it took every ounce of strength to not whimper when his tongue darted out to lick along them.

All because he couldn’t keep his hands off you not even a half hour ago.

“Need to be inside you,” he rasped, nipping your earlobe as he reached between your legs. “You need it, too.”

“Bucky, we’re late,” you moaned, making no move to stop him as you pushed your hips back against him, rubbing the growing bulge as his hand moved along your folds. Wet, as always. Once upon, you were a woman who never needed or craved anyone. He changed that.

But since he ruined you, it was only fair that you ruined him in return.

“You love having my attention. If you didn’t like it, you wouldn’t have worn this skirt,” he said, ignoring your words as he unbuckled his pants. “And if you didn’t want me to fuck you, you would’ve worn panties.”

A shiver rolled up your spine when his other hand grasped your chin and forced your head toward his. Your head spun when he pushed his tongue past your lips, two fingers slipping inside you where they belong. If your kisses were like wine, his were like whiskey. You got drunk on each other.

“Look at me,” he ordered when he broke the kiss, a whine slipping out when he removed his fingers. He raised his hand up, your heart pounding as he licked the first finger clean. His eyes stayed locked with yours when he licked the next, groaning sinfully. “Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”

It was almost a warning before he stuffed you full of his cock.

“And the sweetest fucking sound you make is saying my name when I make you come.”

Bucky clearing his throat brought you back to yourself, the earlier memory fading to the back of your mind as his smile widened. One look from him and it disarmed you. Left you breathless. Ignited a fire within you. Filled your heart.

“Love you,” he mouthed, giving his fingers another lick.

You clenched around nothing and smiled. “Love you, too.”

And maybe, just maybe, you’d give him a bit of candy for dessert.

Bucky is a menace and we love him for that. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lavandulawrites]

Futile

Yandere Kazuha x reader

To think I haven’t written a fic of Kazuha yet. He is my favourite character in genshin<3 Please come with asks/ requests regarding him:)

Synopsis: The white haired samurai’s idea of love was an idea of speckles of red and tight embraces. To hope to escape the clutches of the man you loved seemed futile.

Masterlist

Warnings: violence (not towards reader), murder, obsession, possessiveness, insane Kazuha, future forced marriage, manipulation

Word count: 689

The fire crackled in the little bonfire the silver haired samurai had lit. The fire illuminated his red eyes in a way that made them looked like pools of blood. Similar to the blood that had leaked out of the lifeless body of a man who had bothered you an hour ago. Kazuha had raised his blade without hesitation and pierced his heart. Blood had splattered on Kazuha’s face, a stark contrast with his pale skin.

You had fallen to your knees in shock. Kazuha had gently lifted you up in his strong arms and carried you back to your camp for the night. You had silently cried the whole walk back.

Now you had exited the tent and made your way over to the two wooden poles that were laid by the fire. You had taken a seat without saying anything.

After a while Kazuha broke the silence. “He had it coming you know. I could hear the commotion and smell his evil intent. I had to slay him. It was the only way. A beast like that cannot go around and taint the innocent. It would be an insult to the nature.”

His eyes met yours. “I cherish you more than anything and my love is deeper than what anyone could even hope to understand” his soft lips pulled up into a smile revealing the dimples that you loved so very much.

You cast your gaze down towards the ground. You could feel the samurai’s intense gaze. The wind rustled in the tree crowns, causing leafs to fall down. A half wilted leaf landed in your hair. Before you had the chance to remove it yourself, a carful hand removed it. When did he move to this side of the fire?

He lifted his hand closer to his face and studied the leaf. “So fragile…” his voice a soft whisper. You had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the leaf.

“It pains me to sense the smell of fear from you. It makes me want to store you away from all evil…” his eyes soft. He muttered to himself “Maybe I should do just that.”

You moved away when he twirled a strand of your hair around his fingers. “Stop. You are scaring me” your voice sounding less brave than what you intended.

His expression fell before he smiled. “My apologies my love. It is easy to forget how fragile you are” he tilted his head.

He studied your face in search of something. After awhile he brow the silence. “We need to get moving. The sooner the better. I would like to avoid traversing in the summer heat.”

“Where are we going?” your question stilled his movements. He looked at you with a blank face as thoughts raced his mind.

He swallowed, causing his Adam’s apple to bob up and down. “We are going to a village I am sure you would love. It’s rather different from the city you grew up in, but it’s charm is unique” his beautiful smile had returned.

You nodded slightly. “I see…” you looked away from the white haired swordsman and down into the grown.

“What are we going to do in the… village?” you asked with a meek voice.

The young man hummed. “We are going to get married” you didn’t need to look at him to know he was smiling.

Your fingers dug into you clothing as your mind raced. You knew there was no escaping him. You had tried. Many times, and it always ended the same. He killed everyone you had interacted with in your journey towards what you had hoped was freedom. Despite his gentle and seemingly kind nature, he had never felt any guilt for what he was doing.

In other words, escape was futile.

You turned your gaze up to met his awaiting crimson pools. You could see your reflection in them. Your eyes were wide with terror and your brows furrowed upwards in a frown.

“You’re going to love the ring I have picked out” his gentle voice as lulling as the sirens from the fairytales you heard when you were little.

[jobean12-blog]

Insatiable

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Vampire AU)

Word Count: 893

Summary: Bucky will never tolerate any harm coming to you and he will do anything to protect you.

Author's Note: Another little piece for Kinktober! I can never leave out my favorite AU and Vampire!Bucky is one of my fave kinks! 🫠🔥 The inspiration for this came from Castlevania season 1- if you haven't seen the show it doesn't matter, I just love the idea of Dracula losing his mind bc anyone tries to hurt his love. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness, mentions of b-l-oo-d, fi-g-e-r-in-g, p-in-v, Vampire!Bucky bc he's just so hot lol

Vampire AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

His blue eyes pierce the darkness of night as he gazes down on the slumbering village, unmoving on the large balcony even as you approach.

“I was wondering where you had gone,” you whisper as you curl yourself against him. “I hate being in bed without you.”

He removes his gaze from the village and settles it on you, the radiant skin of his brow furrowing when he sees your bare skin.

With a tsk of disapproval he removes his shirt and drapes it over your shoulders, cocooning you with its warmth as he presses you against his body. He drags his eyes away from you and stares back out over the village.

You lay a palm on his bare chest, feeling nothing but his cool skin. “Talk to me.”

He rests his hand over yours. “I’m going to burn that city to the ground.”

The words come out in a rumble of a warning, his eyes glowing and his fangs elongating.

“No,” you state, sliding in front of him so you can draw his attention. “You’re not.”

With a sly smile his focus returns to you. “Is that so doll?”

He cages you against the iron railing of the balcony and ghosts his fingers along your collarbone, moving higher until he pushes his shirt from your shoulder.

“Mm hm,” you hum, pressing yourself closer to him.

His dark eyelashes kiss his cheeks as he feels every inch of your naked body and his hands glide along your curves.

But when he speaks the next words his grip tightens and his eyes flash. “But they tried to take you from me. Tried to take the only thing that makes this eternity worth enduring.”

“James,” you whisper, brushing your fingertips along his jaw. “They didn’t succeed. You saved me. I’ll always be safe with you.”

His fingers ghost over your hip to grab your elbow before they continue sliding along your arm until he catches your wrist in his hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“They need to pay for what they’ve done,” he murmurs as he lifts your hand and presses his lips to each fingertip. “I will make them bleed.”

“You can’t punish all of them for the wrong doings of only a few.”

“I can,” he says, his voice deep and powerful. “Besides doll,” he croons, his smirk growing, “how do you plan to stop me?”

Your own grin graces your features as you remove your hand from his and take his wrist, sliding his fingers down between your breasts and along your stomach.

His breath hitches ever so slightly as his eyes track the movement.

“A distraction,” he simpers.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth and nod.

“For the rest of eternity?” he teases.

“Are you complaining?” you ask when his fingers meet the apex of your thighs.

You release his hand and he doesn’t move, his touch teasing.

“If I could stay buried inside you forever,” he murmurs, nipping lightly along your throat with his fangs, “I would.”

You shiver and spread your legs wider when his fingers dip lower. His free hand slides firmly around your neck and his fangs still hover above your delicate skin as he runs his nose the length of your throat, inhaling your scent into his lungs.

“You smell good enough to eat,” he hums when he slips two fingers inside you.

Your head rolls to the side, exposing more of your neck as you thrust your hips onto his fingers, whispered pleas for more falling from your parted lips.

“You tempt the beast inside me doll,” he growls.

“I want you…every way I can have you James.”

The drag of his fingers is slow, torturous and purposeful.

His cool lips graze along your jaw before they find yours and he draws out every breath from your lungs, pushing harder and deeper with his fingers.

“James,” you gasp as your legs start to tremble.

Without warning he pulls his fingers from inside you and lifts them between your bodies, the moonlight illuminating his glistening skin. He brings them to his lips, licking and sucking them clean of every last drop with a satisfied growl.

“They tried to take you from me,” he repeats, his eyes growing darker even as a soft glow surrounds his irises. “Tried to take this from me.”

As he speaks the words he grabs your thigh and spreads you open, lifting your leg and wrapping it around his waist. He fills you in one hard thrust, your back arching and bending back over the railing.

He holds you in his embrace, his hips still as he nips and sucks along the swell of your breasts.

“James…please,” you beg.

When his lips reach your pulse point he bites down hard enough to draw blood, his fangs caressing the spot before he soothes it with his tongue.

“You would have me do nothing when they try to take everything from me?” he whispers into your skin, his voice raspy with need. “I can’t lose you.”

He starts to move; each roll of his hips deliberate as he chokes out the next words and wraps his hand more tightly around your neck, drawing you impossibly closer.

“I can’t lose you and I’ll do anything to protect my Angel. Even if it means I have to be the Devil.”

@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @lizette50

[innerfare]

Captain Kid Piercing Your Nipples - Part 2 

Summary: Captain Kid fulfills your request

Pairing: Eustass Kid x Afab!Reader

Genre: not exactly smut but not exactly fluff

CW: nothing explicit but pretty suggestive

Word Count: 919

The next night, you found yourself back in Kid’s workshop with a bottle of whiskey. You sat on his main worktable, the bottle between your thighs. You had discarded your favorite leather jacket on the bench you sometimes curled up on while he worked, but you had yet to remove another layer. 

You fiddled with your stockings, pushing your fingers through the holes- Kid was to blame for most of them. When he wanted to kiss you somewhere, he would tear through any amount of fabric to get to your skin. Feral animal was correct, you decided, though you could only think those two words with love. 

You loved your feral animal. 

Lifting the whiskey bottle to your lips, you took another good swig. The liquid burned going down, but your tolerance had increased significantly since you joined the crew. 

“That’s enough,” said Kid, taking the bottle from you and swallowing a few good gulps himself. “I don’t want you too numb to the pain.” 

You rolled your eyes before your gaze fell on the needle in his hand. 

“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. 

You looked down at the barbells he had picked out for you in the local town’s market. It had seemed like a good idea, but looking at the long metal rods made you second guess yourself, not that you were going to tell Kid that. He would never respect you for backing out, certainly not when the stakes were so low. It was just a silly needle, and Kid would be in control of it the entire time. 

You pulled your shirt off, no bra to speak of. 

Kid watched you with hungry eyes. He drank in the sight of you topless to the backdrop of his workshop, one of his favorite sights in the world. Your smooth, clean skin juxtaposed with the heavy metal and engine grease was one of the things he got himself off to when you weren’t around to help him, one of the things he had imagined when you first joined his crew but had yet to become his. 

His eyes fell on your nipples, erect in the chilly night air. 

He was almost disappointed they were already erect- almost. 

“Hmm,” he said, needle in hand. “Looks like you need some help.” He reached out and flicked your left nipple, trying to hide his grin when a small whine escaped your lips. “What is it, spider? Don’t like me doing my job?” 

“Don’t be mean about it.” 

He just grunted and flicked it a few more times. Unsatisfied, he pinched it between two of his fingers and rolled it around, squeezing at his leisure. He savored the sounds falling from your lips, drank in the sight of you wiggling on his worktable and pressing your thighs together. 

“See,” he teased. “I told you that you’re too sensitive.” 

“I am not!” You snapped. “You know, Kid, if I knew you were going to be an asshole about it, I would have just paid someone-” You choked on your words as he swooped down and took your nipple into his mouth, giving it a hard bite before sucking on it. Your hands fell to his head, your fingers tangling in his red hair. 

You whimpered like the weak girl you insisted you weren’t. It should have been a quick ordeal, painful but not overly so. Kid dragged it out, licking circles around your nipple like he had no choice, like any professional would have done the same. And when he finished, he placed a sweet kiss on your nipple. 

“That’s a good girl,” he said, needle in hand. “Just hold still for me.” 

The needle passed through quickly and seamlessly, like a knife slicing through warm butter. Still, it hurt like a bitch, and you gritted your teeth in a poor attempt to avoid calling out. 

“Poor thing,” Kid teased, stringing the first barbell into your nipple. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the little nub, all irritated and red from him. “Don’t worry, spider. We’re halfway done, and then we can get you some candy for being a good girl.” 

“Shut up, Kid. Just do the other one already.” You braced yourself in preparation for him to torment your other nipple just as he did the first, but he skipped the teasing and sent the needle straight through, stringing the second barbell into your nipple. It brought tears to your eyes, but you managed to hold them back, a sense of triumph coursing through you. 

Or maybe that was just the adrenaline.  

Kid sat back and admired his handy work. He’d pierced quite a few body parts over the years, the go to for his crew members, but he’d never gotten to pierce a girl’s nipples before. And to pierce yours was a privilege, not that he would ever tell you just how seriously he took it. The sight of those barbells in your nipples felt to him like he’d left a permanent hickey on your neck, his way of telling the world, and particularly any man who managed to get you out of your shirt, that you were already taken. 

“Perfect,” he muttered, placing a kiss on each nipple. He nuzzled between your breasts, a feral animal that had stopped barring his fangs for the briefest of moments. “Absolutely perfect.” You wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his hair again. You placed a kiss on top of his head. “Thank you, Kid.” 

He grunted in response.  

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[vintagehellfire]

Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader

summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.

warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+

word count: 8.6k

Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.

part two

How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse. 

One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely  when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway. 

Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished  him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.

The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down. 

The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you.  He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours. 

The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling. 

With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice. 

What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window. 

Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off. 

Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry. 

The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”--  letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape. 

The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.

As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you.  the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side. 

“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off. 

You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door. 

Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.

“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage. 

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused. 

“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation. 

“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you. 

“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far. 

Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.

“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire. 

“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself. 

“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it. 

“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.

“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured. 

“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip. 

“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you. 

Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more. 

Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.

“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp. 

You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable. 

“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust. 

“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible. 

“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe. 

He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care. 

“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone. 

The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all. 

“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment. 

“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles. 

“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased. 

“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing. 

“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet. 

“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him. 

“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was. 

With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more. 

“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire. 

“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission. 

“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.

“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down. 

“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half. 

His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you. 

“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band. 

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.

“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform. 

“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead. 

“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart. 

“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other. 

“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you. 

“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay. 

“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.” 

“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod. 

“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away. 

“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs. 

“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on. 

“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return.  “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.

taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, captivity, possessive behavior, non - consensual touching, hinted past stalking, hinted non - con, i keep making fairy tale references kfjhks My ko - fi <3

You actually feel calm now, almost at peace - although you can never be truly peaceful in the forest, you guess this is as close as it can get. You flip through the pages of the book, scanning the fireplace with the corner of your eye. It needs more wood, but it still keeps the cottage nice and warm. You tug at your big fluffy sweater - and think about just how domestic, how cozy this scene would be if you couldn't hear his footsteps creeping up behind you. You clear your throat and clutch the book closer to your stomach, trying to ignore him - hoping he'll go away if you pay him no mind. And just like the last few times, he sticks around like mud.

"Are you reading those fairytales again?" Raven calls out mockingly, the click of his tongue teasing your ear. He grasps your shoulders lightly, trying to take a peek at your book from behind the chair. You try to close it, but his hands quickly find your wrists, holding them in place. Now hyper - aware of his chest pressing against your back, you give in and let him look as his body heat spreads to your neck. "Such a pretty illustration, isn't it?" He hums to himself, a fox - like grin ruining his delicate features. When you don't respond, he just keeps going. "The knight kills the monster and rescues the princess." He reads the caption under the drawing, playing curious. "They live happily ever after." He flips the page. "The end." He mouths, averting his gaze.

You clench your fists and try to count to ten before you say something you will regret. You don't know why or how, but just one look at his face is enough to set you off nowadays. And anger is a losing battle - anger has you laying across his knees with your panties in your mouth, muffling your pained cries he likes to pretend are moans as he paints your butt red. So you shut up and bide your time.

"How sweet." The man chuckles with malice, quickly turning towards you just like a snake would curl around an unsuspecting little mouse. "I guess life really imitates art. Just like you and me." He observes with a self-satisfied smirk, reaching to light his cigarette. You hate when he smokes inside the house - the nicotine fume sticks to the walls for hours and you start choking and coughing, but he shows little concern for your heath; not that it's a huge surpirse to you.

"What do you mean?" You raise one eyebrow, hoping to at least take your mind off the nasty, overwhelming smell. If he sees your unease, he doesn't mention it, choosing to inhale even deeper, with his full chest. "You're the pretty damsel in distress." Raven explains calmly, charcoal eyes sinking into your vision like claws. It makes you feel naked, vulnerable - dissected to your very molecule. "And I am your knight." He lets his sharp teeth reflect in the dim light. "I saved you from those pesky insects who kept sulling you." You cringe at the way his tongue piercing drags against his canines. Track - track. "Aren't you glad I removed those obstactles for ya?" He gives you a crooked, sarcastic smile. "I think your hero deserves a little reward for all the trouble he went through just for you."

You blink away the tears as you are forced to remember it all in one breath. The police sirens - the investigation. The blood on your family's threshold. The used condoms hanging on your door for all neighbours to see, and the thousand messages calling you ugly names for months on end.

"You're no hero." You mumble under your breath, digging your nails deep into your palms - desperate to keep your tongue behind your teeth. But he hears you - he always does, and he just nods in agreement, coming close. Coming to take you.

Raven stands before you, hovering over you with one hand on the ashtray and the other tilting your chin up so you'd have no choice but to look at him and him alone. "Perhaps you're right." He admits, taking a puff off his long cigarette and blowing it in your face right after - simply in love with the way your eyes narrow in frustrated defiance as you wave away the thick smoke. "Perhaps I am not the hero, but the monster. The dragon." He laughs to himself, stubbing out the burning fag. You don't know what it is that he finds so funny, but you wish you knew so you could laugh along instead of crying.

He cages you in against the sofa, causing you to press even harder against the soft backrest. The message is clear - you'd let the house consume you before you let him as much as kiss you.

"It fits the story nicely, don't you think?" The man remarks, playing with a strand of your hair gleefuly just like a child would. You assume he derives some sick pleasure from touching you so casually - from caressing you, petting you, holding you. It's not even sexual, but it always shakes you to your core, and maybe for him that's the best part - where you can't go anywhere, but in his arms.

"Huh?" You break from your thoughts, growing confused. "Your analogy." He explains while still all over you. "It makes sense. I fought for you, and I won you fair and square." His eyes light up with the ferocity of a hunter. "I wanted you so I took you like the greedy bastard I am. I have no regrets - and if that makes me a villain, then so be it. I will burn the world down if it means you'd be all mine." His fist wraps around your loose locks, almost gentle, but not quite. There is something unnatural in his smile - you can't help, but imagine blood dripping from his chin. "But there is something your magic tales get wrong." Raven whispers diabolically, snapping his fingers. Everything goes dark - and his coat slips down on the floor.

"W-what?" You ask, shaking like a leaf - both afraid and deadly curious. You try to sharpen your senses, but you remain blind to his shadow - and the way it moves right between your legs, positioning them around his hips. You feel his manhood prod at your pubic bone, and you heart sinks to your stomach. "The ending." Your captor mutters, pushing you on your back, and you curse the electronic chair when it goes all the way down with little fight. "The moment when the cards are on the table..." He all but tears off the first button of your shirt. "And the princess is all alone with the monster. Face to face - with nowhere to go."

His tongue is hot on your neck - you try to push him off, but he pins down your wrists with feral force, growling like a wild beast. "And this time no one is coming to save her."

[clumsynymph]

“Don’t look up, I think we made the Sun cry.”

Synopsis: A single voice resounded in his mind. Was a soul’s fate still tied to his?

While thinking that he has reached the end of his tribulations, Il Capitano discovers the last ounce of cruelty Celestia bestowed upon him and you. [A Soulmate AU - Angst - GN!Reader]

a/n: I have yet to finish the archon quest (although I have read quite a few things about it and did watch the parts in which Il Capitano was) so there might be some elements that stray from the canon.

Warnings: There are spoilers for Il Capitano's story and the Archon Quest.

Word count : 1295

I do not consent for my work to be used in any way by AI.

Deafening Silence.

This was the very first thing that hit The Captain.

How long has it been? How long has it been since he last heard silence? How long has it been since the agonized screams of his companions had broken into his mind, merging with his soul? While knowing the exact answer to those questions, he was certain that mere words would never be able to convey what he has been through. He had always refused to ask those questions, never wanted to. Even now, guilt ate away at him because he had dared formulate them in his mind. After all, those who suffered the most were his companions. They were the ones who were unable to know rest, stuck in between realms, agony taking ahold of them day and night. He merely carried them with him, listening to their pleas.

Now, they could finally rest.

Before his eyes, a dark canvas stained by thousands upon thousands of stars, some of them fell down, leaving beautiful golden strokes behind them before eventually disappearing in the horizon upon which sky and sea were woven. The Captain…

No, Thrain.

Thrain slowly got up from the sitting position he hadn’t even realized he had kept even after reaching the Night Kingdom. Nothing remained of the throne upon which he had been sitting but smoke. Smoke that eventually faded away in the seemingly infinite landscape. Where was the realm’s limit? Was there even such a thing as a limit in the Night Kingdom? 

One step at the time, he marched towards the horizon.

                 One step at the time…

He began to run towards it.

   Running and running until his unfeeling consciousness had its fill.

His gaze abandoned the endless sky and fell down upon the water beneath his feet. Piercing blue eyes stared back at him, his complexion still mostly hidden away by his helmet. He closed them and, without much thought, his hands -still hidden away by his gauntlets- reached up, took ahold of the helmet and stripped it away. The movement was just as steady as when he would duel. Yet, what he saw in the starry sea faltered his resolve.

Once more, those scars were starring back at him. Old, yet still putrid wounds inflicted to him in times past. Perhaps, his desire to hide them away from the world was partly caused by his own desire to ignore them. Yet, part of him did not want to put the helmet back. He kneeled down and carefully put the piece of armor on the surface of the water, hiding his face from his view. The same fate awaited his gauntlets and armguards. As he removed them, he revealed decay and old bruises to the curious yet voiceless Night. The soft clinking of the metal was the sole proof and reminder that he hadn’t suddenly gone completely deaf.

“They are not the only ones who can now rest, right..?”

A soft, hesitant, almost fearful voice resounded in his mind. Alarmed he turned around, seeking its owner. As he found none, Thrain couldn’t help but feel his heart clench. Was a soul left behind? Unable to reach the other realm’s shore… Was it stuck with him? Yet it didn’t sound as pained as his former companions’.

“You can hear me?”

A gasp had preceded the question, and a suffocated sob had followed it. His guard rose up. Was it another being stuck in the Night Realm? Was there a piece of the deal made by Mavuika that was left in the dark? Seemingly unfazed by his lack of verbal answer, the voice continued despite the strain.

“You know, I really thought that you had decided to ignore me…that was until I heard their voices and then, I realized that you were simply taken away from me ⎯ yet another fate awaiting you... I kept asking myself what we had done to deserve such a destiny. I thought that you would never get to rest, that you would never get to hear my voice because it was drowned in others’ cries…”

Realization dawned on him as your pained voice kept echoing around him…No, inside of his mind. As you let your heart pour down on him, he understood that his fate had been, in fact, woven to another’s. Such cruelty. Why had your life been entwined with his? You had tried to reach out to him, yet he never heard you. You, on the other hand, had to hear the agonized echoes that resounded in his mind. Could you even cut off your connection from time to time? Even if the issue was now resolved, you were stuck with a fated partner that would never wake up. One that was eternally sent to another Realm. You would perish long before him…

Your voice, which has stopped without him even realizing, resumed.

“Nameless Soulmate, please, don’t…You’re suffering as well…”

His frantic thoughts quieted down, leaving silence in their wake. Yet, his voice was the one that could be heard next.

“You’re kind.”

“You are too; I know it.”

Thrain’s eyes looked up, starring at the countless pale stars above him.

“Even if we are destined to never meet, I’m still happy I got to hear your voice, at least once in my lifetime.”

He could feel his heartbeat pick up, reminding him that the organ had been there all along, that it hadn’t yet turned to stone despite the long years and the curse. He wondered, what could your life have been like if he had met you back in Khaenri'ah? How would your eyes have sparkled then? What color were they? How soft would your skin have felt under his touch? Would you have kissed his, not yet corroded, face? What would have been the name of your firstborn? How would your face have lit up at the sight of the sea the first time he would have taken you there…?

A stray tear fell down his face.

And then another one,

                                               And another one,

And in the end, sobs erupted from his chest, his scarred fingers reaching out for his tunic, grabbing at it. All this time, he had never even considered the idea that a monster such as him could have a soulmate, that he would ever get to hear their voice…That this voice would sound so soft even after bearing the souls’ cries while thinking that its fated partner had forsaken it all along. Yet here you were. Despite every buried feeling that was slowly clawing its way back to him, he could still hear you trying your best to sooth him, reassuring him as you could in spite of everything that had happened. Although you had never seen him, you shared his thoughts and have clearly had a good indication of the state of his body, of his skin…You knew that you might never meet…And yet, you comforted him…

When he felt that his voice was steady enough, he uttered a few words.

A few words that didn’t seem to belong to the fearless Captain, First of the Fatui Harbinger or to Thrain the khaenri’ahn Commander.

They belonged to a soul that had shouldered much more than it should have. A bright and beautiful soul, one that had fought selflessly… One that had finally discovered that fate had blessed and cursed him at the same time by entwining his life with another’s…

“Thrain… That is the name that was given to me. What is yours...?”

Yet, he wanted to hold onto this bond, even if it were to never see the daylight. Now that everything had come to an end, perhaps he could bare his soul to you, even a little bit.

A stray star fell down.

Even your name sounded sweet as Honey.

[fortheloveofkonig]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the 141 x Male reader, they know alot of medical like they use their knowledge of the human body against anyone whom threatens them (or people the care about). They aren't a medic are doctor parday but have extensive knowledge of the field that helps the team. Seem cold uncaring and ruthless but if anyone of them is injured its like a total switch of 'mom bear mode' checking them over the gentle hands and worry.

(Kinda of trope of don't mess with the doctor lol)

Summary: TF 141 reacts to Reader who knows a frightening amount of medical knowledge.

Note: I'm going to do this as more of a headcanons type of post ^^ hope this is good enough! ^^ I did 95% of this all in the last 2 hours

Content: Medical speak, Injuries, Slight Torture, Slightly Bad Medical Research, But I Did Research. Roach Talks.

Word Count: 1085

TF 141 x Knowledgeable in Medic Field M! Reader

Ghost

Probably first heard about your knowledge from Soap talking to him about how terrifying it is to see it come into play

Doesn't believe him.

You've always been good at what you do but have never shown any previous knowledge or interest in the medical field so, who can blame him?

There was also no way you could've went to medical school unless you were years above your usual education range

He finally sees it come into play when you two were 'interrogating' someone.

"If you're gonna stab, don't do it right there. Price said he needs to stay alive."

Ghost looks at you, annoyed. "I've stabbed many people and seen many people survive stab wounds of surrounding areas."

"In lower places of the abdomen and with quicker medical care, if you do it there" You point to where he had the knife, pointed at the tied up man's skin. "It could puncture an intestine and we will be fucked. If you want to stab, move the knife below the belly button...about right... right there. Do not remove the knife once it pierces through."

He did as you said, with questions, but still followed your lead.

From then on he watched everything you did, even noticing that you took care of some of the rookies that ended up with minor cuts and damage that wasn't enough to bother the medics with.

Needless to say, he also ended up coming to you for some patch ups, mostly when he wanted to keep his new damage a secret from Price.

He ended up finding it kind of hot during the interrogation thing so he often asked to do things like that with you again.

Soap

Honestly, probably figured out about your medical knowledge after he was being a dumbass with explosives and almost got hurt.

"Go change into some shorts and a tank top." Your voice was in a serious tone as you went to grab a nearby first aid kit.

"Already wanting to see me strip?"

You just glared at him until he actually left and did what was told.

Despite having only a few scratches, you still cleaned them up as best as you could.

You also went on a rant about it too, about how dumb he was

"Do you realize how dumb you are? What if you actually made a big explosion and a piece of shrapnel flew and hit one of the carotid arteries in your neck?

"My What?"

"Do you realize how fast you would've died? Why weren't you wearing any protective gear?"

"I'm pretty bad at forgetting protection."

If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

That was not the last time you had to clean his wounds, he seems to be a magnet for them.

Asks you more about medical stuff, just to get an idea on how much you know.

You know a lot.

Unsure at this point if he hurts himself in new ways just to hear you yell at him for what dumb way he could've gotten himself killed this time.

Gaz

He falls out of helicopters a lot, that's the truth. What's one more time?

This time (and somehow not the last?) he ended up hurting his foot, you were there the whole time when it happened.

When the both of you were both safe in the safety of a van, you got him to put his leg up so you could check it.

"This is stupid" He mutters, "It's nothing more than it has been in the past."

"Shush, let me concentrate" You mutter feeling around his bootless ankle, nodding your head when you hear him hiss at a pointed touch.

"Any pain when you walk on it?"

"Possibly....yes."

"I'm gonna say it's a sprain for now but I think we should take you to the infirmary after we get back to base. Doesn't seem dislocated. Possible fracture though."

It was just a sprain

Was surprised when you spoke fluent...doctor to the doctor.

Honestly felt like a little kid in the doctor's office, watching his parent's converse with the Doctor telling them what was wrong.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

Price

Always knew, almost nothing gets by him unnoticed

Was probably one of the reasons he wanted you on the task force.

He knows how soap and gaz the boys are

Has you teaching rookies how to probably put a tourniquet on.

"What the fuck are you doing? That's not how I taught you."

The rookie you were speaking to just looked down at the dummy that they were working on and the tourniquet, "It looks-"

"Terrible! He's still bleeding out! Retry it."

Definitely has to sit in on these sessions, some rookies have complained to him that you take it too far.

You always just use the excuse that if those were real people and not training dummies, they'd be at fault for letting them die.

He agrees with you.

The rookie looks over at Price.

"Get to it. He told you to retry it. The man is bleeding out."

Mostly just sits in because it's less complaints now that he is showing he agrees with you in front of everyone.

Roach

This fucker needs a friend that has medical knowledge

Much like Soap, it seems like he is a wound magnet

Was probably the first of the 141 that you had to go full protective, medical knowledge out and work on him.

Man's like a tank too, no matter what the day brings to him it seems he's just able to walk it off

You don't let him

"You're limping, sit down."

He just waves it off, "'m good."

"Like hell you are." You walk up to him and grab his wrist, dragging him to a nearby chair and pushing him onto it. "Stay or I'll have Ghost lay on you."

Does not stay.

You cannot get Ghost to lay on him.

You just end up pelting pillows at him until he joins into a pillow fight, and you both end up getting exhausted.

"I'll rest right here."

"Good."

Stubborn but still okay with medical help

Often comes to you with oddly specific questions.

"Hypothetically, if a car blew up in the near vicinity of where I was at, what is the possible health issues that could arise?"

"Well, burn marks obviously, depending on the distance it could be any degree. If it was enough to knock you over, then a possible concussion. Depending if you hit the ground and hard enough, possible broken or fractured bones. Not to even mention the possible pieces of metal and glass flying, and just blast trauma in general. Could cause damage to internal organs with enough force."

"Okay, so...hypothetically, if that happened, I should go to the infirmary?"

"Roach, were you next to a car when it blew up?"

"..."

"Gary???"

You immediately dragged him to the infirmary.

[lalavenderangel]

Something New - Father Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader

a/n: can’t lie this is pretty much self indulgent since i have a tongue piercing so the thought was just gnawing at my brain 😮‍💨

summary: after two and a half months of being gone, you decide to show Father Charlie something new you got while away

warnings: 18+!! this is literally all smut and no plot! oral (m receiving), bit of degrading (he calls her a whore like once) technically Father Kinkish, blasphemy, pretty sure wrong religion terms, and i think that’s all, please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 1.1k

“Open your mouth, right now.” Charlie demanded. You had just got back from visiting your childhood best friend, coming back to church today, strolling in casually, sitting with your parents. He had missed you, thought about you every time he did mass, every evening with his hand wrapped around his cock before he prays and whips himself again. You had also thought about him every evening as you laid in bed in the guest room.

You wanted to call him during but due to timezones you knew he would be sleeping so you got off alone every time. You had told your parents after mass that you were going to ask Father Charlie if he could catch you up on things you missed but in all actuality you wanted him, and you wanted to show him what you had got while visiting your friend. Of course when you approached him he took you to his house instantly knowing what you wanted but then as you started talking he noticed it.

You smirk at him before you open your mouth and stick out your tongue showing him the piercing you had, making his cock hard right away. Now you had always told yourself growing up you would never get piercings except your ears, also more due to your parents but your best friend talked you into it, mentioning how it could be fun when giving a blowjob, though you just played with it a lot when it healed as you only had one person in mind to use it on.

“Do you like it Father?” You asked as you looked at him.

“Do you even know why most people get that?” He had asked you, his voice dropping a little, sounding a bit husky.

“Oh don’t feed into stereotypes Father. I was just having a great time with my best friend and then decided to be adventurous.” You say as you sit on his bed.

“Fine, some people, and if you were to look it up you would see that some people get a tongue piercing for oral pleasure.” He says moving to stand in front of you.

“Do they now?” You asked, a sly smirk on your face. You knew, and you were basically teasing him about it but trying to argue. “Again, do you like it Father?”

He said nothing as he gripped your hair tightly in his hand and forced you onto your knees making you smirk even more. He was quick to remove his cassock, leaning over and setting it on his chair before he undoes his belt quickly. “I think that it makes you look like a whore and since you want to look like one I’ll fuck your throat like one.” He removes his belt before reaching around and strapping it around your wrists to keep them behind you.

“F-Father-.” He interrupts instantly.

“No touching, you don’t deserve it.” He snaps and you keep your mouth shut. He removes his clerical collar and also sets it down before quickly removing his shirt then his pants leaving him fully bare before you. You have missed this so much. He leans down and pulls the straps of your pretty baby blue church dress down before he yanks it half way down your body so your breasts are on display for him.

“Now, what do you say?” He asked you.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned.” You whisper.

“Good girl.” He hums before grabbing a fistful of your hair again tightly. He grips his cock in his hand before nudging the tip against your lips a little. You knew he was having a moment so you didn’t open your mouth yet. “Look at you, always so willing for me, so sinful for me. Tell me little lamb, did you think about me while you were away?”

“Yes Father I did.” You whisper.

“How so?” He asked, noting the precum leaking from his tip before smearing it on your lips.

“Every night while my legs were spread Father.” You whisper and his cock twitches.

“Fucking, Christ.” He didn’t need to hear another word before he forced his cock into your mouth, all the way down your throat making you gag violently. “Oh come on, it's only been two and a half months little lamb, can’t handle it anymore?’ He mocked, instantly setting a brutal pace that had you gagging over and over again, eyes watering and drool dripping down your chin. “Mmm I’ve missed your mouth so much little lamb you have no idea.” He rasps out, yanking you off his cock for a moment while you gasp for a bit of air. “Such a naughty little girl. I know you’re soaked by now, always get that way when I’m rough with you don’t you? I know you do little lamb, I know you do.” And then he’s back down your throat and you manage to gain a bit of composure as you swirl your tongue around his cock, dragging the piercing along the veins on his cock making his hips jerk a little more forcefully.

“Christ little lamb! Fuck that is the best thing you could have got.” He grunts out as he now holds your head in place and fucks your throat like a mad man, loving every time you would drag the piercing around his cock. He moves his hand down and wraps it around your throat, cutting off your airflow even more as he gets closer to the edge. More tears spilled from your eyes as you tried to get air but it was useless. After a few more thrusts he stills and cums down your throat, releasing his grip so you could breathe through your nose. You milked his cock for every last drop, swallowing it all making him look at you, letting go of your hair finally. You pull away but not before running your piercing along the slit at his tip making him shudder.

You looked up at him innocently, making him chuckle a little before he leans down and undoes his belt around your wrist. He checks them slightly before tossing his belt aside. “Let me see.” He always wanted to see that you had swallowed his load, it gave him satisfaction. “Good girl.” He helps you stand up on your shaky legs, wiping your tears away before gripping your chin tightly. “Now, let me finish showing you how much I fucking missed you my little lamb.”

You smile and kiss him deeply before he pushes you back onto the bed, hovering over you with a smile of his own, a smile you knew all too well. You were so happy to be back.

taglist 🤍: @iamsebastiansstan @nicholaslut @nicholaschavezslut69

[1pepsiboy]

Friends to lovers - Matt Sturniolo smut (request)

Matt Sturniolo x reader!

Word count: 1.2k

warnings: kissing, dry humping, matt saying babe

A/N: sorry if this seems a little clunky?? I know it's not my best friends to lovers smut. The beginning isn't strong, just hang in there please!

***

All of you are hanging out in the living room, watching hockey on the TV, since it was shockingly a rainy day in LA. You and Nathan were visiting from Boston. A surprise Laura arranged to celebrate the triplets newest milestone. 

This visit has felt different between you and Matt. Nick and Chris, the friendships were still as they always have been; nothing awkward. But you and Matt have always been the closest and he’s been sort of distant since you got there. 

Chris looks over his shoulder. “Hey (y/n), can you grab me a pepsi?” 

Matt rolls his eyes. “Chris, you have two working feet, go get it yourself.” 

“I know that! I could just sense (y/n) was about to get up and go to the kitchen, right (y/n)?” Chris defends his request. 

You look between the two idiots with a cocked brow. “No, I wasn’t Chris. B-” 

Matt whacks Chris’s arm. “Hah! Go get it, Chri-”

“But I don’t mind getting it,” you finish. 

You got up from where you were resting against the couch, Nick had been painting your nails. After you take a pepsi out of the fridge and give it to Chris, you sit between the two on the couch. Chris wraps his arm around your shoulders and gives you a squeeze. 

“Thanks, you’re the best.” He cheeses a smile. 

You laugh under your breath. “No problem.” 

Suddenly, Matt gets up and stoops off to his room without a single word. All of you look at each other in confusion. 

“Matt!” Chris calls. “Come back out here!”

Nick yells, “Matthew Bernard!” 

“Fuck off!” Matt responds from behind the closed door. 

Instinctively, you stand and wave the others off. “I’ll go check on him.”

You knock on his door, turning the doorknob to see if it was unlocked. “Matt?”

“I said fu-” Matt swivels around in his gaming chair, headset already on as if he’s going to start a game. “Oh, sorry (y/n).”

You close the door and sit on the edge of his bed, hands in your lap. “Matt, what’s wrong? Is it about Chris? He was just joking around, you know that.”

“No- I mean, yeah a little…” He chews on his bottom lip and then brings his thumbnail into the equation. 

“Matt… Please talk to me. It just feels like… like we’ve been off since I got here.”

He furrowed his brows. “Nothing’s been off.”

You cock a brow now. “Let’s see… You’ve barely wanted to be near me, like we haven’t had a single late night one on one talk yet and I miss those… and then just now you acted weird when Chris asked me to do something for him and touched me. He’s always been like that and it never mattered before.”

Now Matt looks down at his hands in his lap, slouching more and more into the chair. “We’re fine, (y/n). I promise."

You bite your lip, then before you could chicken out, you say, “I don’t want to lose our friendship, but I also can’t keep this in anymore… I like you, Matt.”

His head raises, his eyes piercing into you with… surprise? Then a goofy smile spreads on his lips. “I… I like you too, (y/n). That’s why I’ve been acting kinda weird. I wanted to keep my distance until I figured out the right time to tell you.”

“Really fucking weird,” you laugh. “I thought that I, like, did something.”

Matt shakes his head. 

It hits you that he feels the same way and your stomach flutters. “Where- How- What do we do now?” 

“I don’t know.” Matt giggles. “Go on a date?” 

“Do you think this will make the group dynamic awkward?”

“Well… Nick and Chris kinda already know that I like you. I can’t hide anything from them. Nathan has a hunch I think."

You blush furiously. “Think they know I like you?” 

“Probably.” He chuckles.

You flop backwards on his bed, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, that’s so embarrassing.” 

Other hands carefully remove yours and Matt hovers over your body, very close. “It’s not. It’s feelings, you know? Hard to hide them.” 

The heat of his body is super apparent now and your mind fogs, forgetting what you’re discussing. You clear your throat and pull yourself backwards until you’re at his headboard. 

“I think until we figure out what we are, we should probably keep a little more distance between our bodies,” you state. 

“Okay, I understand.”

Matt walks around and lays down on the other end of the bed. “Is this okay?” 

You nod. 

“Should we watch something?” he asks, pointing to the TV. 

You nod again. You let him choose a random movie on Prime. As the movie starts, his hand falls close to yours. Despite your words, you couldn’t stop yourself from linking your fingers together. You let your eyes trail from your hands and up his tattooed arm, and then they land on his jawline. His soft lips were pursed a little bit. 

All critical thinking flees your mind. 

You move closer to him, your leg resting between his.

“I thought-” 

“Sshh. I take it back.” You press your lips against his. They are as soft as they look, and taste so good. The two of you fall in sync so easily. His hands brush through your hair as yours graze his back. Your thigh begins to rub against his covered cock. 

“Babe- I mean, (y/n)... Sorry, fuck.”

Your ears perk up, a sly smile spreads on your lips. “Call me babe again.”

Now a sly grin sets on his face and he rests his hand in the crook of your neck. “Babe.” 

“Mmhm.” You bite your lip and begin to rub against him again. 

“What if someone walks in?” he breathes. 

You shake your head. “That’s their own fault. The doors shut.” You don’t let up and you can feel his dick start to harden. 

He groans under his breath, taking in a breath between his teeth. “You’re right, I’ll shut up.”

Both of you sit up more so it’s easier. You find yourselves kissing again. You ride on his leg, making sure to keep close to his crotch. The panties under your pjs are soaking up by the second. You glance down quickly and notice a darker area on Matt’s sweatpants. 

“Matt… your sweatpants,” you pant. 

He leaves kisses on your neck and then on your covered nipples. “I don’t care, babe.” 

That one word fuels you to go even harder, your hands flatten against his headboard. You ache for him so bad.

“I’m gonna…” you moan. 

“Me too,” he whimpers. 

Matt inches his leg up, hitting the perfect spot. You keel over, your face mixing into his hair as your insides burn and cause your body to tremble. 

Matt digs his hands into your tank and his pants beg to be shut up. You lower yourself to connect your lips again. The sound of soft droplets creates a beautiful ambiance. 

“I’m sorry about your pants,” you mumble. 

“I said I didn’t care,” he rasps under his plump lips. “I have others.” 

A slow smirk spreads on your lips as you gaze into his eyes. “Do you have another pair of panties for me?” 

His face goes pale. “Shit… no, sorry.” 

“That’s fine.” You nip his ear. “I’ll just go commando in a pair of your other sweats.”

*You can request others from this list or send me new ones!*

[witchezandwonderz]

The Stars We Shared

Pairing: Ivar the boneless x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Masterlist

A/N: this is a really long one lol, sorry. Let me know if you prefer shorter fics :)

Likes, reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated!

Clutching desperately at his side, Ivar let out a loud groan as he watched blood pour from his body. Ivar had led a somewhat difficult life, so he was very much used to feeling alone. He spent years resenting who he was and what he could not do, but in this moment he regretted ever complaining. For now he was well and truly alone.

Ivar had been exiled from Kattegat, and had no choice but to run away, alone. Not one person accompanied him, there was not one soul whom he felt close enough to that could help him.

Ivar let out another groan, his already blurred vision becoming even more blocked as tears began to form in his eyes. Ivar had been caught be an axe, he could not pin point exactly when though, because the scene was so chaotic that all he could focus on was dragging himself far enough away.

He did not know how long he had been going for, all he knew was that he did not recognise where he was, and this very much terrified him. Unfamiliar territory, injured, alone and crippled. Something that he never forgave himself for was the fact that he could not use his legs- he thought it was his fault, for some unknown reason.

Ivar was so focused on trying to forget the pain and keep pressure on his wound that he did not notice you, lurking behind the bush that he leant upon. You watched him, as he cried and pressed his hand to his side, muttering words that were so pain riddled, you could not decipher them.

You tried your best to step carefully, but the crunching noise that your foot made when colliding with the snow beneath you gave your presence away. Ivar’s head snapped up, frantically looking around him.

You took a deep breath, “are you injured?” Your words came out as barely a whisper, but you had no idea why you felt so apprehensive, you were a healer, and were more than familiar with treating ego riddled men.

This one was different. His piercing blue eyes, even clouded with pain, pinned you in place. There was a sharpness to them, as though he could see through every layer of your composure, down to the faint tremor in your fingers.

“Injured?” His voice rasped, “is it that obvious?”

You rolled your eyes in response to the sarcasm that dripped from his tone. Realising that he still was yet to properly look at you, you decided to walk and stand in front of him. He looked up at you, his bright blue eyes shining, and when analysing you, he noticed that you had a woven basket perched on your arm.

“Are you a healer?” He asked, his breath shallow, but his tone rude and expecting.

You nodded lightly. “I am. But if you keep talking to me like that, then I will magically lose my healing capabilities.” You responded, your tone firm.

Despite his pain, Ivar let out a small, raspy chuckle at your boldness. He did not respond with words, but instead hummed a small sound, which you assumed as an agreement.

Nodding your head proudly, you unhooked your basked from your arm and started sifting around for different herbs and remedies, and plopped yourself down onto the freezing cold snow.

“I need to get a better look.” You said quietly, you had intended for your voice to be louder, but you were so focused on helping the odd man before you that you could not help it.

Ivar hesitated, his hand still firmly pressed onto his side and a clear look of worry flashed in his eyes. Instinctively, you placed your hand on his and gently rubbed it in the hopes of encouraging him to remove it. This was a very normal, nurturing thing for you to do. But Ivar did not see it that way, for not one person he knew had ever touched him in such a delicate manner. He himself did not realise that he had relaxed his hand enough for you to see the wound clearly.

You immediately got to work, and as you did so, Ivar watched you intensely as you focused- your brows furrowed, your eyes squinted and your tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth, resting on your bottom lip.

‘Just watch the attractive lady’

Ivar told himself this over and over again, in the hopes that it would distract him from the ever growing pain that he felt.

You did well to treat the wound, burn it, and then treat it again. You wrapped it carefully, and then proudly stepped back and clapped your hands in delight.

“I thought for a moment that I would not be able to help, but you will be just fine.” You announced warmly, your mouth curved in a genuine smile. Ivar grunted in return.

“I know that you are in pain, but a thank you would be appreciated.” You commented. He peered up at you.

“Thank you.” Ivar responded through gritted teeth, and then flashed a harsh, sarcastic smile. You did not argue though, as you knew this would be the best that you would get from him.

“Let us get you home. Where do you live?” You asked as you busiest yourself, gathering all of your belongings and placing them back into your basket.

Ivar did not reply, which you thought was very odd. Stopping what you were doing, you looked at him expectantly through the strands of hair that had fallen into your eyesight.

“I have no home.” He mumbled extremely quietly, so much so that you did not hear what he had said.

“What did you say?”

“I said, I do not have a home.” This time you definitely heard him, in fact, the entire village across the lake probably also heard him.

You thought carefully for a moment.

“Well you cannot stay here. You will come home with me, I do not live far.”

Ivar shook his head, but refused to look at you. Instead, his head faced firmly to the floor and the feeling of shame clouded him.

It is a good thing that you are stubborn.

“I will not take no as an answer.” You said firmly, yet he still did not look at you.

“Look at me.” You commanded. Your tone and volume in turn made his head snap up, and he hesitated but then nodded.

You nodded in delight, before continuing, “I know that you are in pain, but you will need to try and get up. Unfortunately, I cannot carry you.”

Ivar immediately looked angry, which confused you- you had just spend a long time helping him, and now you are offering him a warm space- why would he be angry?

“I cannot walk. I am a cripple.” Ivar admitted, his head turning to the floor yet again. He felt his heart drop when you had not yet responded, so he decided to speak again.

“Just leave me here. I am grateful for your help, but just leave me here.”

You were too busy piercing information together. Raven black hair, piercing blue eyes, tall and strong with a pair of legs that cannot be used- you had heard stories of a man like this: Ivar Ragnarson.

“Why would I leave you here? Do you give up this easily?”

Ivar then told you that he had two sticks that he uses to walk, but he dropped them in his scramble here and has no idea where they would be. This set determination inside of you, and you went off to find them. This did not take you long, for they were only a few inches away, flung behind a tree.

When you returned shortly after, you saw Ivar let out a deep sigh, which you hoped was a sigh of relief.

“I was beginning to think that you would not return.” He breathed, a small smile creeping onto his face.

You did not reply, but instead flashed him a bright smile, and placed his sticks in front of him. You knew you would not be much help, due to him being much heavier than yourself, but regardless you managed to help him get to his feet.

The two of you made the short journey to your isolated little house. You knew it wasn’t much, but you were not ashamed; it had everything that you needed, and plus, you were a lone healer, and were not used to company.

“Do you live here by yourself?” Ivar asked, unsure of where he was. He still did not understand why you had gone to such great lengths to help him- you did not know him, and you certainly did not owe him anything. Kindness was a foreign subject to Ivar.

“I do. I live alone, I work alone. I am alone.” You chuckled nervously.

Ivar nodded, taking in what you had said. He had always had so many people around him, that the possibility of being alone was strange to him.

“What is your name?” He asked, you in turn told him.

“I do not need to ask your name though, Ivar.”

Ivar immediately panicked, for he did not realise that you knew him- what if this was a trick? What if you were going to tell people that he was there?

“Don’t worry. I will not tell anyone that you are here.” You said gently, pulling a fur over him as you did so.

This confused him. “You are not scared of me? Have you not heard stories of the unpredictable cripple?”

You laughed at his words. “I have, yes. But no, I am not. I make my own judgements, and so far, you seem fine.”

Your response seemed to both surprise Ivar, and also confuse him further. You were a curious creature, and he wanted to know more. He watched as you scurried around the small room, moving objects and putting all of your treatments back in their rightful place.

“You seem the use the word cripple a lot.” You stated, your voice breaking the silence. “Why?”

Ivar did not need to think of a response, it came naturally. “Because that is what I am.”

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before replying. "If that’s what you want to call yourself, I won’t argue," you said simply, your tone calm and measured. "But right now, you’re also a man who needs rest, food, and a roof over his head. It is not as though your condition has stopped you from doing the things that you have wanted to do."

Ivar blinked at your response, clearly expecting a different reaction. "That’s it? No pity? No grand speech?"

You titled your head. "Would it help if I did?"

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he gave a faint shake of his head. "No."

"Then I won’t waste my breath," you said plainly, adjusting the fur over his lap. "Do you think you can eat something? You’ll need your strength if you’re going to heal."

Ivar hesitated, his sharp blue eyes scrutinizing you, as though trying to uncover some hidden motive. When he found none, he finally nodded. "Yes."

Without another word, you moved to the small pot hanging over the fire, stirring its contents. "It’s not much," you said, ladling some of the stew into a wooden bowl, " but it’ll keep you alive."

You brought the bowl to him, holding it out. He reached for it, his hands brushing against yours as he took it. His grip was firm but unsteady, and you noticed the faint tremor in his fingers.

"Careful," you murmured, stepping back to give him space.

Ivar lifted the bowl, sipping slowly. He said nothing at first, and you busied yourself tidying the small room. The crackling of the fire and the faint clatter of your tools filled the silence.

Finally, he spoke. "You live here alone?"

"Yes," you answered without turning around.

"For how long?"

"A while." You paused, glancing back at him. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, setting the bowl down on the small table beside him. "It’s unusual."

You laughed softly at that. "Unusual isn’t always bad."

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. "No," he said finally, "it isn’t."

You tried to hide your smile; for some reason, the way that he stared at you made your cheeks flush red, and your stomach erupt with an unfamiliar feeling. Clearing your throat, you decided to break your eye contact and busy yourself once again. Ivar felt slightly frustrated at this, but allowed you to get up regardless.

"How long until I am better?" Ivar asked, in turn, making you chuckle; a very specific question about a very unpredictable topic.

"Everyone is different." You replied, "One month, perhaps two." You shrugged.

Ivar tried his best to prop himself up using his forearms, groaning with pain as he did so. "That is a long time." He stated, though his face expressed no specific emotion.

"I suppose it is." You, once again, shrugged. Now turning to face him properly. "But if you want your wounds to heal properly then you will have to listen to me."

Ivar studied you for a moment before responding. "

“I don’t mind staying here.”

You turned to face him, eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. “Oh?”

He shrugged, his expression unreadable. “You seem like decent company. Better than most.”

The coming weeks, for Ivar anyway, consisted of lots of rest and sleep. There were two incidences where you stayed up, constantly pressing a cold cloth to his head in fear of him not waking up. He had good patches and bad patches. The good patches allowed you to get to know one another better; Ivar told you stories of his childhood, his mother, his father, and his brothers. Although, when speaking of his family, there was a sadness throughout his tone.

You too had divulged information about your past, some of it being information that you had never told anyone. Not because they are secrets but just because you were rarely surrounded by people, so you never really had an opportunity too.

After exactly sixteen days, Ivar was finally feeling better and managed to use his strength to walk with you from your hut to the end of your patch of land. You and him had made a habit of lying on the grass and watching the stars, both wrapped in fur. This was only on his good days, of course. Today was different though; this was the furthest that he walked. Most importantly though, his eyes were less blue- he told you that this was a good thing.

You, as much as you tried to fight it, had gained feelings for Ivar- odd ones. Ones that made you feel warm inside. In fact, every time you looked at him, you felt as though your heart may leap out of your chest. You told yourself to suppress your feelings, you knew better than to think the great Ivar the boneless would reciprocate the same fondness as your own.

It was hard though- a simple gesture such as looking at you seemed to make your knees weak. You decided to take advantage of the short time you had with him- you knew he had plans to travel.

The stars stretched endlessly above, twinkling like tiny flames. You and Ivar lay side by side on the grass, wrapped in furs, the cool earth beneath you grounding the strange warmth blooming in your chest. Neither of you spoke, casting a strong silence in the air- though, it was a comfortable silence.

"Being here… with you… it’s been different." Ivar spoke in a soft tone, almost as if he did not want to voice his thoughts.

The words hung in the air between you, heavier than you expected. You turned your gaze to him, unsure of how to respond. "Different how?" you asked after a moment, keeping your tone light.

He was silent for a long while, and you wondered if he was even going to answer. But then he spoke, his voice quieter this time. "It’s strange. I’ve spent my life surrounded by people. Brothers, warriors, armies. But I’ve never felt… known. Not like this."

Your breath caught, your heart beating wildly. "Ivar…" you started, unsure of what to say.

"I’m serious," he interrupted, turning his head to look at you. His eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in them making it impossible to look away. "You are the only person on this awful planet that has ever made me feel." He paused again, clearly thinking about what he should say next. "Loved."

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. The word that he decided to use had definitely thrown you off. Instead of speaking, you moved your head forward slightly to kiss him on the cheek. Although only a small, slight kiss, Ivar closed his eyes and savoured it nonetheless.

He let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh, shaking his head slightly. "You’re maddening, do you know that?"

“I’ve been told,” you replied with a small smile, though your heart was still racing.

He reached out then, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. The touch was fleeting, tentative, but it sent a jolt through you. "You’re beautiful," he said suddenly, his voice so quiet you almost thought you’d imagined it.

Your cheeks flushed, and you turned your head away, embarrassed. "Are you sure that you didn't hit your head?" You joked, trying to deflect.

But he didn’t laugh. Instead, he shifted closer, his hand lingering near yours. "I’m serious," he said, his tone earnest. "You’re beautiful. Not just… your face. It’s everything. Your strength, your loyalty, your stubbornness. It’s infuriating and amazing all at once."

You felt your throat tighten, emotion threatening to spill over. "Ivar…"

"I love you," he said simply, his voice unwavering. "You’re the first person I’ve ever loved. Truly. And it terrifies me."

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your mind reeling. But then you saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the raw honesty he wasn’t even trying to hide, and your heart softened.

"I know that you feel the same." Ivar stated, his eyes searching yours hoping that he was correct.

"Well of course I do Ivar." You said, your voice trembling slightly as you reached out to take his hand in yours. "How could I not?"

He let out a shaky breath, his fingers tightening around yours. "I don’t deserve this," he murmured, his eyes glistening.

"Maybe not," you teased gently, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "But I’m giving it to you anyway."

His lips twitched upward, and for the first time, he looked at peace. Both of you were shivering- it was absolutely freezing. Equally, neither of you cared; you were both too nervous to acknowledge the weather.

His hand, still warm from the furs, reached out and gently cupped your face. The movement was so sudden, so deliberate, that you barely had time to react before he tilted your chin upward and leaned in.

His lips met yours with a quiet intensity, firm yet gentle, as though he’d been holding this moment back for far too long. You froze for only a heartbeat before your body responded on its own, leaning into him as the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you.

His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, his touch igniting warmth that spread through you like wildfire. When he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes were soft but filled with something unspoken, something that made your breath catch. His arms wrapped around you then, pulling you closer until you were pressed against his chest.

You didn't know what the future had in store for you, but you did know that this is he first time you had ever fallen in love, and you were excited to explore it.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

hello! how are you? I hope everything is ok, it's me again, sorry for the inconvenience!

But I have a doubt, maybe this can even become a chapter

After the reader returns from Teyvat, all injured, having lost some fingers and teeth (from what I remember from Fitzgerald's chapter), Yosano is the only one who knew the total destruction done to the reader's body (Fitzgerald theoretically also know after having heard Pantalone and Ningguang commenting), having to take care of the reader and having her ability, well, we all know how Yosano's ability works, would she feel bad about having to use her ability on the reader to help him recover (even though it's the only way), besides, being a doctor, she has a greater understanding of things, do you think the reader's situation would make her sadder? Because she understand more about injuries, etc.?

thank you for your attention :)

Count them

Self-Aware BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Akiko Yosano x GN! Reader

Description: Yosano found another reason to hate her ability.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Injuries.

Set during last bits of Lost and Found, during Reader being unconscious.

Short fic.

A bit of comfort at the end.

______

Yosano has a strange relationship with "Thou Shalt Not Die".

She wasn't fond of it. Yet, there is no way she will dismiss its usefulness.

The ability was powerful, but, Yosano wished, that it could be activated differently.

But, when she got her chance, she missed it. She choosed something different.

_________

Yosano looked at the screen of Ango's computer. He recently got access to game files and find a way to alter their abilities.

"So... I could either choose my ability be able to heal any decease, be it chronic, internal, or incurable by modern medicine, or have "Thou Shalt Not Die" activated without fatal injuries, but stuck with physical external injuries?"

Ango nodded.

"Yes. I am sorry, but, you can't have both."

Yosano closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

Ango smiles reassuringly.

"Of course, Yosano-san"

Yosano spent whole night, reading about diseases from real world. About experience medicine, about slim chances. And about not having chances.

In the morning, she chooses being able to choose any diseases.

_______

Yosano silently leave your room. She needs one moment to herself.

To write it down.

She returned to her room and took one of her books from the shelf.

A simple atlas medical book.

It took her few minutes to find pen and pencils.

She never thought about that part of her ability. About knowing what injuries her ability have healed.

You have many. And fatal injuries.

In no way it were good news, but, at least, there was no need for Yosano to hurt you more. To use her ability.

Yosano took a pen and opened the book.

Time to write them down.

______

Burned mouth

Broken ribs

Multiple burns on legs, arms

Cut off toes

Removed canines (all four)

Ear bitten off (old injury)

Shoulders were pierced (claws? old injury)

Multiple stabs in the chest (arrow, spears)

Left eye gouged out

Nose broken (not clear, if it was an incident, or from the hit)

All nails torn off

Patches of skin removed (all body parts)

Joint dislocated (rack?)

how dare they...

_______

Yosano hid the book with the list.

She won't show it to anyone.

She won't tell anyone about it.

The anger will fuel. Her anger already burns with rage.

They don't need to know. For nor.

Right now, they should focus on you.

And not on the desire to chop off everything that monsters have.

Right now, she should return to you. And wait for you to wake up.

_______

Yosano rubbed your feet.

"All toes are here." her voice was hushed and soft.

"All toes are her." echoed you.

Yosano carefully rubbed your knees.

"Your knees aren't dislocated."

"They aren't dislocated" repeated you.

It became your daily routine.

Yosano would point at every part of you, that were injured, showing you, reminding you, that you aren't injured anymore. That you are safe. That you aren't in pain.

Yosano finished with you and left for a moment to wash her hands.

When she returns, she sat down on the bed near you.

She squeezed your hand.

"[Y/N]... You will never be hurt again. You will never be scared again."

You nodded weakly. You still were scared. But, even so, you believed in Yosano's words.

Yosano carefully pet your head.

"Let's brush your hair."

Yosano helped you sit up and took a hairbrush from the nightstand.

Carefully and gently, Yosano brushed your tangled hair. You yawned. You had another sleepless night, and brushing made you sleepy. Yosano whispered.

"You can sleep, if you want. I will be here. We will be here."

'I won't leave. You won't dissapear. No one will hurt you. There will be no need to use my ability on you. For me to count them.'

"Sleep, My Dear Dango. Don't be afraid. You are home."

You doze off. You had no dreams. Just a healthy dreamless sleep.

______

Tag list: @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu @izzieg3987

[sillysowa]

PROMISE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

GENRE: HEAVY ANGST

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: NOT PROOFREAD, USE OF Y/N, READER DEATH, DESCRIPTION OF INJURIES

AUTHORS NOTE: IF YOU CATCH ANYTHING TAHT ISN’T GN, LET ME KNOW

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE NEVER WANTED IT TO END LIKE THIS…

—

Often, Hobie looked fondly upon your deep caring nature and true heroism that he never saw in anyone else—but this time he only cursed it to hell.

He saw his life flash before his eyes as you swung back into the collapsing building to rescue a civilian, panicked and fueled on the notion that you ‘had to save them.’

He couldn’t have possibly chased after you any faster, and the moment your webs shot them out of the building and into the crowd of people gathered to catch them, he screamed,

“Y/N!” A cry of pure despair tore from Hobie’s throat as he watched the ceiling collapse on his only love.

His heart constricted in his ribcage at the sight of your fear before it happened and the sounds of you pain. He had never moved with so much haste, tearing the rubble off of you with his pulse pounding in his head. You were trapped under incredibly large pieces of the ceiling and Hobie could see your bloodied feet under the small gap he revealed.

“Y/N! Y/N please!” Hobie gasped, crawling under the opening. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of your limp body, pierced in your side by a giant rod of metal from the rubble, bleeding out like a bloody waterfall. You were conscious, but definitely not for long with all the blood loss. Your mask was torn clean off and tears spilled from your poor red eyes,

“H-Hobie…?”

“Y/N-Y/N-Y/N…It’s me!…oh, my love...” His shaking voice cracked as his arms reached out to gently hold you close. You cried and screamed in pain as he cradled you,

“I know I know, I’m sorry my love, I’m so sorry. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay…I’m here, I’m here.” Hobie rambled, his voice trembling as he turns your head to look away from the wound and into his teary eyes. It was heartbreaking to see him like this,

“Hobie…I don’t want to die…” Your lower lip trembled and your voice was hoarse as you spoke, your rattling fingers clinging to the back of his jacket as you sobbed, the shaking of your body only causing you more pain and making you cry even harder.

“You won’t die baby, I promise.” Hobie almost whispered as he attempted to gently remove the rod from your side, instantly stopping when your screaming grew particularly agonized and sobs of his name fell from your lips, your limp body tensing under him,

“It’s-it’s useless Hobie…” You whimper, swallowing and trying to not hyperventilate. Hobie felt utterly defeated, looking down at the dying light in his arms and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt your trembling fingers against his warm skin, wiping away his tears—you were so cold.

He held your hand there as if there was a possibility he could engrave your fingerprints into his skin and keep you there with him. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to muster up the strength to speak,

“P-Please don’t cry, Hobie…”

If only it were that easy. Hobie had never been so afraid in his life as he was watching you fight for your own in his arms, your blood gushing all over him with seemingly nothing he could do to help you.

“I can’t let you die like this…I can’t.” He whispered and squeezed your hand, his warmth an oddly unfamiliar feeling to you as your mind starting to feel fuzzy, your head lolling back only for Hobie to cradle it with his palm,

“Why…?” He asked, his voice low and broken in anguish as he held you, your head in his palm, “You’re all that matters to me you know that right?” Hobie couldn’t bring himself to use words like ‘were’ or ‘mattered.’ You were still there…at least for a little longer,

“I know…” You sobbed, coughing and choking on your blood then whimpering as Hobie’s grub tightened on you and his pulse raced. You were horrified of dying, but relieved that it would be in Hobie’s loving arms. Those same arms that hugged you tight every time he saw you, caged you in when you slept soundly, and saved you countless times. There was no other way you would have your death than this—Hobie looking down on you with your hand against his cheek, whispering about how much he loves you while soaking your fingers with his tears and rocking you gently in his arms,

“Hobie…listen to me okay?” You groan, your eyelashes fluttering as you wince in dying pain,

Hobie just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked like he was genuinely hanging on every word you said.

“Please, promise me you’ll…keep living…keep fighting everyday, Hobie, just the way you always do-“ You choked out, holding his jacket in your balled up fist. The pinch in your eyebrows, the tears in your eyes, the blood on your lips—it was a nightmare to Hobie,

“N-No please don’t-don’t say things like that please…” Hobie cried and nuzzled his cheek against your palm, scared that it would fall from his face at any moment,

“Hobie you have to promise…” You whimpered, your glossy eyes gazing longingly into his own. Hobie couldn’t…because he knew if he did it would be like sealing the deal on your death. But, he also knew that he couldn’t let you die without doing anything you asked of him, so he swallowed his pain,

“I-I promise…” Hobie whispered, his tears dripping down onto your face, you whimper and your breathing grows slow, your face becoming oddly pale and colorless, your eyes dull,

“Y/N? Y/N, I can’t lose you, please!” Hobie screamed with a hollow voice, barely his voice barely a whisper in the bustling night. He held you like a baby, never feeling so helpless in his life. You didn’t respond to him, just squeezed his jacket until your knuckles turned pale and your hands shook violently before all their movements ceased. Your eyes were Hobie’s only remaining form of contact with you, the light slowly going out and being replaced with the lifeless look of a doll.

Hobie’s body was racked with sobs as his composure crumbled, hot tears brimming down his cheeks as he held your head under his chin. You were gone…his only love, his life, his purpose—gone. He slipped his palm into your hand, squeezing it like your fingers could still hold him—he didn’t want to think about how you could never hold his hand again…

Hobie knew he would never be the same person he was before he had held your dead body in his arms and sobbed for hours, dreaming that you would open your eyes and tell him you’d be okay, that you’d both be okay. He held your hand the whole night, even though your fingers were stuff and you would never feel a thing ever again.

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri @lasagnaisbest @deepzombieyouth