#and how something I did there led to one of my fanfics

[lost-technology]

2/2

And then our nephew died. Mid-January, just a random heart-attack in his sleep. And well, I was a mess. I've been a mess all year. I quit my job because I thought it was better than getting an assault-charge from beating an abusive little fuck of a coworker upside the head with a greasy metal spatula. (He did not know of my situation, he was just a little fuck I could barely stand in general and in my state, I knew I was going to lose it on somebody, and so it was better to quit and go back into video group-therapy for a while). I had to be on the planning-board for a memorial service for the first time in my life. I thought of going back to the psych hospital, but I was terrified of being treated like a zoo animal / prison inmate again, so I struck it out and somehow didn't drink. I can't say that I didn't do some self-harm, but my fiance' watched out for me and I had to be strong for him. He was grieving, too, even if he's the type to say "I'm used to this, I've been through this before" and to be stoic. I threw a lot into art. I painted a picture of a frolicking Eevee because our nephew loved Eevees. I've been doing a lot of paintings with bright, neon colors - it's a rail against the dark. I took up a much needed cleaning out an area household chore while re-watching Bojack Horseman because my brain decided that parsing what I was going through required watching something really depressing and darkly comic. I didn't keep up with Tristamp with every release. I was so depressed I wasn't even doing things I was interested in - even with therapy-help. I eventually started dragging myself into watching more episodes, particularly as the dub came out and I got to hear the angel-sweet voice of my boy, Johnny Yong Bosch. As far as I'm concerned, that man IS Vash in the voice-department. That was when I was pointing at the screen and telling my partner, who hadn't read all of the manga - "Oh! They're doing this thing from the manga!" "Livio!" - and he watched me BRACE and curl up in my chair when I knew "Ooh, they're gonan find Tessla, aren't they?" - Aaaaand Stampede made it somehow WORSE. Stampede just got better and better. Although I voiced that I missed some of the more comedic tone of '98 and even Trigun Maximum, which was dark, but had it's moments. In any case, along with The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom" - Trigun pulling me back in became a distraction. It also... well, Trigun is a story of love and grief. Vash loves and he loses and he moves on, carrying the people he lives in his memory. He lives to atone for that which he blames himself for and to protect, aid and simply to experience humanity with those who remain. And THAT is inspiring. I'm sad that my nephew isn't here to watch it with me. I'm sad that we aren't having discussions over Facebook messenger and in-person with holiday visits of the media. I'm sad that I can't tell him "Oh, this happened in the Trigun manga! I can show you! They're doing a bit of a different spin on it, though!" just like he'd talk our ears off coming back from a Marvel movie - him having been an American comics geek. But I'm carrying on and carrying him in my heart. And engaging with Vash as a powerful force in my life once again is reminding me of the courage and determination I need. Vash really is my comfort character, for so many reasons. He is a fictional person, but I thank him for helping me through this goddamned year. So, thank you Vash. Thank you.

Tristamp and Year in Review

I saw someone else speaking of their discovery of Trigun: Stampede and how it helped them through the year and only glossed over it. However, this anime was important to me this year. Trigger warnings: Death, grief, mourning, suicidal ideation and the fact that this was a generally shitty year. Personal stuff. Heartwarming "warning": Healing, reconciliation and a touch of nostalgia.

Where I was when I started the year: Laughing at Congress' inability to elect a House speaker (I follow American politics), working a shitty fast food job and looking forward, with some trepidation, to the Trigun reboot that my partner's adult nephew (also best friend) told me about, being an old school Trigun fan who had Trigun as almost her whole life back in the 2000s. I have a bookshelf full of manga, some even in Japanese even though I'm an English-only reader. I have a manga-book signed by Nightow, this is my level of dedication, even though I had fallen out of the fandom for a long time (my hyperfixations turning toward certain videogames - Zelda most prominently and my getting hard into She-Ra and the Princesses of Power for some reason. Spop was an obsession because I was a fan of the original when I was a kid (yes, Virginia, old people are in fandom). I got into the new series, mostly because I really loved Entrapta (mad scientist trope!) and was into a certain side of the fandom I now largely regret being in. I wound up having a falling out with a lot of people because a misunderstanding that lead to an accusation of plagiarism that culminated in me displaying actual symptoms of the mental illness that my "friend group" lied and said they were compassionate towards,* me being fairly harassing toward certain people and picking fights, (certain paranoid false accusations had me PISSED), people treating me like an emotional predator who was somehow "out to get them" instead of suffering a spiral. Someone screenshotting and putting up some suicidal ideation I'd posted on my blog that I'd deleted specifically in order to tell people in the fandom who weren't even in the drama that I was "faking it" and to not talk to me / exile me from the fandom. And that drove me over the edge - that thing. When I got back from the hospital, I was determined to remain in the fandom - making a new blog, doing my art and fics whether the gatekeepers wanted me in their precious fandom or not. (*Something I have learned in my long life is that no one is truly compassionate to the bipolar - not even other bipolar people. When we're a mess, we're a mess. Trust me, not even paid psychs are always prepared). This happened like, 2 years ago, but I'm still bitter. So, that's where I was, plugging away, embittered in an old fandom that I wasn't quite quitting because I needed to show myself, if no one else, that I was still standing. Looking forward to Trigun reboot and worried it would suck. Looking very forward to the new Zelda game, wondering if I could afford it when it came out. Watched the first Trigun: Stampede with my fiance / partner. He declared "It ain't Trigun" because he didn't like the new art style and some of it really had a different feel than the '98 anime. I was all "I don't really like how the SEEDS stuff is just right out front there rather than an unfolding mystery, but this animation is SLICK and I want to see where this is going!" 1/2

[kingkat12]

art on art (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), drug mentions, nasty fluff tihi

summary: why hasn't Eric reached out after leaving rehab yet, and how long does it take for marker ink to fade?

word count: 5,272 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part 3 of my Eric Draven fanfic draw you! thanks again for the overwhelming support of this series, and enjoy!!<333

Some broken part of me never expected to see Eric again. I knew that the previous men in my life would leave the second they got what they wanted out of me, so why should I hope for this one to be different?

I had been out of rehab for exactly two weeks now, and I knew this meant that Eric was out as well. He had my address, he had my number, and he weirdly enough also had my email address... yet I hadn't heard anything from him. Not a single thing. I wasn't quite sure why my heart was breaking at the realization I had been thrown away again-- I should be used to this.

In actuality, I knew exactly why my hopes were up.

The last time I saw Eric, had been right before I was about to leave rehab. We were standing in my room, the guards no longer watching me as I was technically excused and only there to get my stuff. I was packing everything into a big cardboard box, unable to meet Eric's green eyes as he sat on my bed-- he just looked so damn sad, I couldn't bring myself to watch. 

At the same time, I couldn't believe that he was upset about me leaving; no one had ever cared for me like that before. "Why do you look like that?" I eventually asked, stuffing his drawings into a book so that they wouldn't get ruined during the move. 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to shoot a puppy,"

Eric snorted, a slight smile finally forming across his lips. "Just thinking about how shit these next days are going to be without you here,"

I dared to gaze at him, watching his chest rise and fall in a long sigh. Even while doing the simplest act of sitting, Eric looked downright gorgeous. His dark hair had grown even longer during the time we had known each other, which allowed slight curls to form along his forehead. Draped in pink, tattoos peeking up from the collar of his jumper, green eyes soft with feelings-- the sight was almost enough to make my breath hitch.

"Oh, you won't notice I'm gone," I mumbled, trying to lighten the mood at the same time as I tried to be discreet about shoving my underwear down into the box. "Time will fly by, don't you worry."

Eric shifted, moving closer to the edge of the bed. He stopped me from picking up the next batch of my stuff, leading my hands into his as his rounded eyes sunk into mine. "You're saying that as though I won't miss you,"

I held my breath, unsure what to say. 

Eric noticed my hesitance, squeezing my hands; "I will miss you. Do you understand that?"

Oh, I most certainly did not understand that. Not at all. But it didn't stop my heart from swelling, beating harder than it probably ever had before. It also didn't get any better when Eric led me between his legs, letting go of my hands so that he could put his against my waist. He looked up at me through his thick, long lashes, clearly trying to make me understand the longing lingering in his body. "Will you miss me?"

There was no question in my mind that I would. I'd miss him every second of every day, as I already did. However, I wasn't sure whether it was smart to tell him this, or whether that would make him lose interest like my previous flings. But weirdly enough, something told me I could trust this guy-- or was that just his pretty face doing the talking? "I will," I said, taking his face into my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks in a newfound sense of affection.

Eric's previously glossy look suddenly became a hopeful one-- he pulled me even closer, my hands going up into his hair as he buried his face against the crook of my neck. 

There was something so sincere about him, that I couldn't help but smile. Even now, as I remembered it. Was I stupid to imagine that it had all been real? That he hadn't acted like he would miss me just out of pity?

This was definitely my insecurity talking. I needed to get it all out of my head-- which is exactly why I ended up going out tonight, my friends by my side as we made our way into our usual spot at the club downtown. Being back in the darkness of this place, music blasting through my ears, brought a lot of memories back; specifically the dark ones. 

However, I wasn't drinking. I wasn't taking anything, and I wasn't planning on doing so. In the back of my mind, I kept imagining a scenario where Eric would finally reach out and find me relapsed... and that was certainly not ideal. Then he'd definitely not want to be with me.

Maybe I just needed to forget about him?

And so I began trying-- it didn't take long before I sat down next to some guy trying to tell me about his life story. I had never been this disinterested in my life, allowing him to put his arm around me as I stared up at the light-show on display across the roof, lost in thought.

I wondered where Eric was. What he was doing, who he was with, where he was. Whether he thought about me at all. It quickly hit me that being sober at a club took away all the fun, and with alcohol floating around right before my eyes, I wondered whether I should bother staying sober or not. I didn't exactly have anyone to stay clean for, as I thought I would. 

And just as I was about to ask the guy next to me whether I could have the tiniest sip of his beer, I spotted a familiar tall frame across the room. I blinked several times, straightening up in my seat as though I was a woman possessed. I was sure it was him-- I immediately knew the second I saw the tattooed poem on his back peeking through the top of his shirt.

As though I had heard a gunshot, I got up from the couch, my whole body tingling with unexpected excitement. This was an adrenaline surge unlike anything drugs could give me, and it only grew stronger as Eric seemed to be leaving. 

Panicked, I sped up into a light jog despite being in heels, making my way through the crowd on the dancefloor. It didn't take long before I caught up to him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

Eric had a bewildered look about him as he frantically searched who it could be that had held him back from leaving. When his big, green eyes finally landed on me, they widened as he broke out into a look of relief. "There you are!" he exclaimed, his large hands grabbing my shoulders. "I've been looking for you all over!--"

I was sure I would've started crying if I hadn't reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to my level to press my lips against his in the neediest kiss I had probably ever shared. I flung my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer, both of us letting out relieved sighs at our reunion. 

I wanted to stay like this forever, swimming in the bliss of being reunited with the man who had haunted my every waking thought. However, I couldn't let myself revel in the joy before I got the answer to my question; "You never called!" I said, my hands now at the sides of his face. "You never fucking called!"

Eric hummed, connecting our foreheads as he closed his eyes. "I did... just from a different number. You never answered, so I had to track you down all the way here,"

My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, my anger simmering down into a slow ache. The thought of Eric calling without getting a response made me feel worse than bad. "How?" was all I was able to say, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

Eric blushed a little before pulling away, and I was unsure whether the reason for my sudden dizziness was the loud music or his smile. God, he was gorgeous. "Our dealers are cousins," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist as we swayed on the dance floor. "And your guy told me I could find you here."

"I see," The loving look in Eric's eyes nearly made me melt— it was clear that he had missed me as well. But my questions kept coming to me; "Why did you get a different number? Is everything alright?"

With that, Eric's smile faltered just a little. His grip around my waist tightened as he brought one hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear in a loving gesture. "I... suppose there's a lot I have to tell you, now that I've come all this way,"

I could sense that this was serious— I had seen enough of those guilty eyes for one lifetime. "I see," I repeated, pulling him in for another kiss, reveling in the feeling of tasting him again. There was nothing I had missed more about rehab than this. "Let's talk it out somewhere else, then?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It wasn't every day that I brought back men from the club— my policy was no men at my place at all, just in case I encountered a serial killer in disguise. But this thing with Eric was different; he could've moved in for all I cared. He could also proceed to burn it all down, rip me apart with his bare hands, and I'd let him.

However, the difference between Eric and the other men in my life was that I knew, deep down in my heart, that he would never hurt me; which is why I let him into my apartment.

I watched as Eric took a look around, his hands tucked into his front pockets as he whistled; "Quite the place,"

Shrugging, I made my way towards him as he towered over everything in my living room. "Sure is,"

Eric turned to me, a raised brow on display. "You're telling me you're loaded?"

I felt a bit embarrassed— I knew that once Eric found out the truth, he'd think of me just as all the other ones did. The spoiled girl who had nothing else to do but turn to drugs to get a high out of life. I couldn't help but grow nervous, unsure how to explain the truth to him; "Well... It's my parents' money,"

Eric nodded to himself, stepping towards me. "Are they around much? I didn't see them visiting you in rehab,"

The truth stung. "They don't want to look their biggest disappointment in the eye," I mumbled, my gaze falling to my feet. "But they make sure I'm still alive, I suppose. So it's not that bad."

There was a silence before I suddenly felt Eric's long, slender fingers beneath my chin, tilting me up so that I could meet his gaze. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't this; compassion. "Their loss," he said, the emerald green of his eyes engulfing my being with unexpected kindness. "At least you got a great apartment out of it."

I let out a warm laugh, now keening against the palm of his hand as he placed it to my cheek. "I've missed you,"

As Eric smiled down at me, it was obvious that his heart fluttered at the sight of me. I had never thought someone would ever look at me like that. "I've missed you too," he breathed. "Thought about you during every waking moment of every day. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you."

I could barely believe this was real— didn't stuff like this only happen in movies? "If only I had known you called," I mumbled, placing my hand on top of his. "Being without you was just hell... What happened?"

Eric inhaled a sharp breath, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes. "I want to be honest with you, but... I'm afraid you'll run,"

In a flash of desperation, I placed his hand against my heart. "I have nowhere else to run but to you,"

Eric's green eyes rounded out, his lips parting in confusion— was I maybe not the only one stunned by the confessions of complete and utter love tonight? "I— Fuck," 

With that, Eric's strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me towards him as our lips came together in a hungry kiss. The sheer force of it, along with the element of surprise, nearly had me stumbling a few steps back. But Eric only followed; I nearly moaned out as I felt his tongue against mine, my hands flying up into his dark locks and pulling him closer. I had missed him more than I had ever missed anything in the world, including drugs— all my swarming feelings of never-dying love had me pushing away all my needs for an answer from him regarding his phone, and I let my back hit the surface of the couch as Eric hovered above me.

"Missed you," he breathed in between kisses, a slight growl to his voice. Something told me Eric was trying to melt himself into me to make sure we would never be apart again— it only made my need for him stronger. I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his tall figure as I attempted to pull him even closer than he already was. 

Fuck, his lips were so soft. Deadly soft. The way Eric was nipping at my lower lip, occasionally sinking his teeth into it to draw out a whimper, was making a familiar knot form in my lower abdomen. I barely registered that my dress was gone before I watched him discard his shirt somewhere on the floor— now that we finally had time, I let my fingers run over his tattoos, smiling into the next kiss as I realized we would finally have that messy morning I was promised. I couldn't wait to lie in his arms, tracing every piece of art on his skin, taking it all in— this was heaven. Everything about finally being alone with Eric was heaven. 

"Missed you too," I eventually managed to moan out, feeling him grow hard against the apex of my thighs. "I don't ever want to be without you again." My breath hitched as Eric left wet kisses down jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach, knowing exactly where he was heading. I drew my hand towards my mouth, gently biting down to suppress a rather girly squeal. 

"You'll never be," Eric purred against my skin, sinking his teeth gently into my thigh to evoke a sound. "If you think we're ever going to be apart from now on, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours once more."

It was impossible not to smile, and I squirmed against the couch before Eric's big, strong hands grabbed my hips, holding me in place as he pressed a kiss against my clothed sex. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing this to avoid telling me what had happened in the moments we had been apart. Despite wanting to give in to the pleasure, let him tease me and keep me on the edge through the night, my mind wouldn't let me.

In the moment Eric threw my underwear to the floor, now kissing up my thighs and leaving me breathless, I propped myself up on my elbows; "Hold on," I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair in hopes of getting his attention. "Eric, wait--"

As he looked up at me through his brows, eyes wide with confusion as he paused for me, I didn't know whether I could go through with it. This moment was so damn precious, something I had been longing for ever since the moment I saw him; so why couldn't it wait? With a sigh, I laid back down. 

"You okay?" Eric asked, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against my hipbone. "Wanna stop?"

That was definitely not it-- I let in a lazy breath, my eyelids drooping over my eyes as my body shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against my cunt. Everything about this situation was making my brain shut down. "No... I don't want to stop," My hands reached for his, and Eric let out a hum, his free hand now ghosting over my sex. "Just wondering whether you drew it or not."

"Drew what?"

"What we did in that stairwell,"

Eric's eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed, placing a wet kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You bet I did,"

"Will you show me?"

He hummed against my skin; "Later... I'm a little busy here, as you see," Eric hooked his arms around my legs, dragging me closer to him as I yelped. I could only laugh, the realization that I had finally gotten all I had ever wanted hitting me just as I felt the warm trickle of spit running down my cunt-- my hips bucked up in surprise, my breath escaping me. I was about to prop myself up on my elbows for a second time, hoping to get a look at what the fuck he was doing, but as he ran his tongue up between my folds with a ridiculously soft touch, I could only whimper.

The memory of Eric saying he would take his time with me when we were out of rehab suddenly dawned on me-- I was in for the long run.

It didn't take long before he had me writhing beneath him, a whimpering, panting mess. With every swirl of his tongue around my clit, every time he sucked in my aching bud between his plush lips, I held back the urge to buck my hips up against him. It got increasingly hard to keep still, especially when Eric pulled away to simply breathe down on my sex, knowing exactly where he had me. 

"Fuck," I cried, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair-- I did my best not to tighten my grip, fighting the urge to use his dark locks as handles. 

I could feel Eric smiling against me, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit; my breath immediately hitched, bucking up against his mouth in an attempt to beg for more. His fingers dug themselves into my thighs, driving my legs further apart as he made space for his broad shoulders. I whined at the loss of friction when he tilted his head to look up at me, and a shiver ran up my spine at the look of his face, slicked with my arousal. 

A mischievous smile spread across Eric's plush, glistening lips; "Someone's impatient,"

I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment, lolling my head back down against the couch-- looking at him only made it worse. "Can you blame me? You're doing this on purpose," 

Eric hummed, one hand leaving my thigh to lazily rub soft circles around my clit, using my slick as a lubricant. It only made me squirm, letting out a shaky moan as my back arched slightly off the couch. Even worse, was that I started to feel a small tremble appearing in my hands. "Can't handle a little teasing?" he said, biting his lip as he watched me attempt to suppress my noises. "You keep saying you've waited for me... What happened to your patience?"

I held back the urge to simply kick him-- but that thought immediately slipped out of my mind the second Eric flattened his tongue against me, licking a stripe all the way up to my swollen clit. It was impossible to suppress the hitch of my breath, and the tug I gave his hair in response was purely instinctual. It surprised me further to hear him enjoy it; I decided to keep that observation stored for later.

I had a feeling Eric knew my mind was buzzing, that he wouldn't be able to toy with me much longer. There might've been a few giveaways that I was at my wit's end-- all of which left me feeling like an even bigger mess than I already was beneath him. "I- I can't," I whined, my words leaving me as Eric sucked me in once more. "Wait, please!--"

He hummed against me, now pressing his lips against the crease of my thigh as a chuckle built in his throat. "Fine, fine," he said, playfully sinking his teeth into my skin, his green eyes watching my every move. "I suppose I'm dragging this out... I don't know why I'm feeling nervous."

Nervous? Eric didn't look very nervous to me. "It's just me, though?" I tried, attempting to catch my breath as I laid my hand on top of his. My next words came out shakier than anticipated, especially now that he was kissing his way back up my body; "You don't need to be nervous."

Eric hummed, his large, tattooed hands kneading my chest, kissing along the hem of my bra. "It's just... When you left rehab," he started, his lips pressing along my collarbones. "I realized it took me days to recover after a dream with you in it."

The rush of joy surging through my veins reminded me of a hit of amphetamine-- it was all-taking, consuming, and I wanted nothing more than to press him so closely that we'd melt together. "Eric--"

"I've drawn you over and over," he breathed, kissing up my neck with a toe-curling softness. "In every way possible. Imagined the way you'd look at me after waking up in the morning, how it would feel to kiss your pretty little face good night..." Eric's lips hovered above mine, our shared breaths hot and shaky against one another as he continued; "I want you to burn into me like warm glass, mold into one. It sounds insane, but... how else can I ensure we stay together?"

My eyes were wide, finding his, as my hands reached up to cup his face. Like this, I finally had the time to admire the tattoo above his right brow, the deep scar on his cheek, and the tattoo above it. I stroked my thumb over the ink, holding back from connecting our lips just yet; "If you think I'm ever leaving you, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours" I breathed, watching his pupils dilate as I bit back a smug smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm all yours?" My fingers now ghosted over his lips, still wet with my slick, as an idea suddenly hit me. "Actually..."

Eric watched in confusion as I shifted beneath him, now reaching for the table right by the couch. There, I had left a marker which I had previously used to write a birthday card, and I took it into my hand before laying back down, looking up at the puzzled look on his face. "I'm not able to physically melt into you, but..." 

Eric's green eyes widened further, watching as I popped the cap and drew a tiny little heart on the peak of his shoulder.

I met his gaze, beaming up at him; "I can leave my mark,"

The most unexpected thing happened-- The sight of Eric welling up in tears was not something I had counted on when I let my impulses take the lead. For a second, I got genuinely worried I had overstepped all boundaries until he pinned my hand above my head and pressed a needy, passionate kiss against my lips.

I couldn't control the moan that escaped me, my hips bucking up against his, feeling his hard length grind down and brush up against my clit as our chests came together, pulling each other in as close as possible. The need I felt for Eric was undescribable, ravaging through my being-- I had never wanted anyone as bad as this. 

Mind dulled by anticipation and pleasure, I barely registered that he had managed to pry the marker from my fingers and pull it into his hand. Eric disconnected the kiss, pressing his wet lips against my cheek before propping himself up on his knees, scanning his canvas. "I'm definitely dreaming now," he whispered, mostly to himself, hovering above me as he drove the marker tip to the point where my ribs met on my chest. 

I could only smile, watching my favourite artist at work with admiration blossoming in my chest. Knowing I would be decorated with his work made me even more hot and bothered; I did my best to get a look at what he was drawing without disrupting his process. 

Eric drew a line down my chest, a few leaves scattered along it-- it dawned on me that he was drawing a rose. A beautiful, big rose, with that same scratchy style that I recognized from his previous creations. I watched him dart his tongue out, keeping it between his lips, focused; I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Art on art," he breathed, pulling away to drink in the sight of what he had drawn on my body. Eric's green eyes found mine, his shy smile returning to his plush, glistening lips. "You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."

"So are you," I held back the urge to cry happy tears, my hands reaching out for him. "I love it, Eric. I'm scared of needles, so I won't be able to get this tattooed... Meaning you'll have to draw it over and over. Would you do that for me?"

Eric let out a choked laugh, eyes glossing over as he put the cap back on the marker, discarding it somewhere before returning to his place above me. "I'd do anything for you,"

I hadn't smiled so brightly in what felt like years. Like this, at this moment, I was sure this was it. He was it. 

Before I knew it, we were completely lost in the fiery kiss that ensued-- Eric's tongue against mine, hands lost around my waist as my fingers hooked into his dark locks, our chests heaving at one another. I was so gone, so dizzyingly aroused, that when I felt his thick cock pushing past my sopping entrance, I could only gasp. 

Eric let out a grunt, both of us moaning into the kiss at the immediate relief-- I could barely believe that this was real, that we were back as one. In a sense, this was the melting together that we had both craved so badly. 

My nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks in their wake as I let him push further into me. Eric buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out a breathy groan against my skin when he finally moved. His cock stroked my walls the same way it had that one evening in the stairwell, the exact feeling I had chased as I buried my fingers deep inside of me every night since-- I had forgotten how the real deal had felt. How mind-numbingly good it felt to have Eric in me.

I whimpered as I felt his cock throb upwards, immediately hitting my sweet spot, and I wrapped my legs around him, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. Knowing I bared his mark on my chest, knowing he had dreamed of this as well, only strengthened the electricity running all the way up to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know how I was supposed to last long at all, especially when I heard Eric moan out my name-- I shivered, pressing my lips against the heart I had drawn on his shoulder. 

I noticed a blush creep up his cheeks before he connected our lips once more, but it was hard to kiss properly when we were both in a heavy daze of pleasure-- we ended up mostly breathing against one another, Eric's green eyes watching as I let out a string of moans with every stroke of his cock. 

"You're everything," Eric rambled, nipping at my lower lip to suppress another grunt. "You're everything, you're-- Fuck!--" His hands dug into my hips, fucking me properly into the couch as he deepened his thrusts. 

My heart fluttered in my marked chest as I realized we were both looking down to watch our union-- the sight of Eric's cock pumping in and out of me, the wet sounds of our love filling the room, was almost enough to bring me over the edge. I also caught a glimpse of the petals drawn over my body, realizing I was admiring both the art and his body against mine. 

My back arched off the couch as Eric shifted, angling his thrusts upwards-- now, he was dead on pumping his cock against my sweet spot, which had me mewling out against his lips. "Eric, I-- I'm not gonna last, a-ah!--"

With glossy eyes, I watched a smirk spread across Eric's lips; "Let go if you need to," he cooed, his dark hair now kissing his forehead as he let out a laboured grunt. "We'll go again, baby-- hah, don't worry."

That was all I needed-- my heart fluttered, realizing we had all the time in the world to fuck all through the night. 

Forever, if we wanted to.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

This was nice. Stupidly nice. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this moment.

The softness of his fingers running up my bare shoulder, the kindness with which he bathed me-- I didn't even know this existed before now. I looked up at Eric, my head nuzzled against his broad, tattooed chest as we lay in post-coital bliss. I reached out to trace the heart I had marked him with, and I wondered what else I could draw on his beautiful body.

However, I knew I had to ask the question he hadn't been willing to answer yet. I had to look past how heavy his beautiful lashes looked in his drowsy state, and how badly I wanted to reach out and trace the upward slope of his nose, to ask what needed to be asked. "Eric?"

He hummed, glancing down at me. 

It was incredibly hard to take my eyes off his kiss-swollen lips. "You never told me,"

"Told you what?"

It felt as though we'd had this conversation about three times now; "You didn't tell me why you changed your number. Or why you waited to reach out. Or, better yet, why you didn't just show up here... I even gave you my address," I couldn't stop the imminent pout appearing across my lips-- I had forgotten how upset I was about this. "I waited for you. I nearly drove myself crazy thinking I'd imagined it all."

Sighing, Eric's gaze diverted to the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I will tell you everything. Just... could I have one more day?"

"What?" Something told me that his secret was a lot more damning than I initially thought-- why was he so reluctant to tell me? Did he think it would change how I felt?

"One more day," he echoed, his tattoed hand mindlessly traveling up into my hair as his eyes glossed over.  "Just give me one more day..."

I didn't know what to say, at a loss for words. Instead, I popped the cap to the marker in my hand, realizing I wouldn't be the one to deny him his one wish. Eric closed his eyes with a sigh of relief as he felt the tip of the marker against his skin once more; time was a gift I was willing to give him.

I was willing to give him absolutely anything he'd ever want-- I just hoped it wouldn't be the death of me.

(a/n: PART 1 and PART 2 linked here<33 thank you for reading!!)

[thesecondhandwoman]

im craving some fluff fic right now, and I think you're going to nail this one. how about a stubborn Sevika not letting the reader take care of her when she's sick? it's like she's hiding from the reader and acting tough or silly when she's clearly not okay.

𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼

Sevika x f!reader

Synopsis: A cold has recently been going on around the Undercity, and when Sevika catches it, she as stubborn as ever to try and ignore her feverish state, ultimately leading to you dealing with a messy bundle of sass.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: Just a short yet silly fanfic of Sevika and a running fever (it was fun to write).

It started with a cough. Just a little thing, scratchy and low, like she’d swallowed the end of a cigar wrong. You wouldn’t have thought much of it if it weren’t for the way Sevika immediately shut up afterward, like she was waiting to see if you noticed.

You did.

The problem was that she noticed you noticing, despite her hope that you’d think she had only fallen quiet over the noise of the bar.

“Doll,” she warned, lifting a hand as if that would stop you from speaking. “Don’t.”

“Sevika—”

“I’m fine.”

Ah, here we go.

The woman had been acting off all day. She wasn’t touching her drink (which, in itself, was a glaring red flag), her usual sharp scowl had dulled into something more sluggish, and worst of all, she was being too quiet. Sevika was never loud, but she always had something to say, even if it was just some grumbled remark about how stupid someone was being. But now? She just sat there, arms crossed, looking miserable but too damn proud to admit it.

You folded your arms. “You’re sick.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re literally sweating.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“It’s the middle of winter.”

She huffed, shifting in her seat at the bar. “Then someone should fix the damn heat.”

“Sevika.” You reached out, brushing the back of your hand against her forehead before she could swat you away. Her skin was burning. You gave her a pointed look, but she just glared right back, as if sheer willpower would convince you that she wasn’t, in fact, dying of fever.

She turned away. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Prove it. Stand up.”

Sevika scoffed and pushed herself up from the barstool, only for her legs to buckle beneath her immediately. If you hadn’t caught her, she would’ve face-planted right onto the grimy floor of The Last Drop.

“Uh-huh. Fine, my ass.” You tightened your grip on her waist, helping her stay upright while she grumbled against your shoulder. “C’mon, big mama. We’re going home.”

Sevika groaned, but she didn’t have the strength to argue, not when standing up alone had already proven to be too much effort.

She was sick. Really sick.

And you were about to have the worst time convincing her to let you take care of her.

The next challenge was actually getting her home.

Sevika, even half-dead with fever, was as stubborn as a damn mule. She refused to let you carry her, claiming she could walk just fine on her own. That was a bold-faced lie, of course. She nearly tripped over her own feet twice before you started guiding her yourself, one arm around her waist as you led her down Zaun’s damp alleyways toward her apartment.

She didn’t make it easy.

“You—you’re making a big deal out of nothing,” she slurred, leaning heavier against you with every step.

“Yeah? You just tried to pick a fight with a mailbox.”

“It was looking at me funny.”

“Sure it was.”

She made an irritated sound in the back of her throat but didn’t argue further. Probably because she knew she’d lose.

By the time you finally got her inside and onto her bed, she was half-asleep, mumbling under her breath about how you were “too bossy for your own good.”

“And you’re too stubborn for your own good,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you pried her boots off. “Now stay put while I get you some medicine.”

Sevika didn’t respond. You thought she had actually, finally, fallen asleep—until you came back with a glass of water and found the bed empty.

Your eye twitched.

“Sevika.”

No answer.

You checked the bathroom. Nothing.

The kitchen? No sign of her.

It was only when you turned toward the closet that you noticed the faintest shuffle of movement in the shadows, realizing this large woman of a girlfriend was hiding in a closet that could barely fit half her size, especially with her clothing.

You sighed. “Are you seriously hiding from me right now?”

“No.”

A blatant lie.

“You are sick,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Get back in bed.”

“I don’t need to be in bed.”

“You almost passed out earlier!”

She grumbled something incoherent, but when you stomped over and yanked the closet door open, she just squinted up at you, her tall frame awkwardly hunched in the cramped space.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She blinked. “Hey, doll.”

“Bed. Now.”

She groaned but didn’t resist when you pulled her to her feet and shoved her back toward the mattress. She collapsed onto it with a sigh, one arm thrown dramatically over her eyes.

“You are so difficult,” you muttered, draping a blanket over her.

Sevika just huffed, her breathing heavy. You could tell she was exhausted, no matter how much she tried to act otherwise.

“You wanna keep pretending you’re fine,” you said, voice softer now, “or do you wanna let me take care of you?”

She hesitated.

Her pride was probably waging a violent war against the undeniable fact that she felt like shit. But after a long moment, she shifted, peeking at you from under her arm.

“Just this once,” she muttered.

Your lips twitched. “Oh? Just this once?”

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

You chuckled, brushing some of her damp hair away from her forehead before pressing a cool cloth against it. She melted under your touch, though she’d never admit it.

“See? Not so bad, is it?”

She grumbled but leaned into your hand.

You’d take that as a win.

For the next day and a half, Sevika was in absolute hell. Not because of the fever, but because she had to endure you fussing over her.

You forced her to take medicine.

You nagged at her to drink water.

You made her soup, even though she swore she hated soup (yet somehow, the entire bowl mysteriously disappeared when you weren’t looking).

She complained the entire time.

“Stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“You’re literally watching me breathe, doll.”

“Making sure you still can breathe, actually.”

Sevika groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “This is worse than the fever.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I would, but you’d probably shove a spoonful of medicine in my mouth the second I opened it.”

“Damn right, I would.” You teased, half-jokingly.

Still, for all her grumbling, she didn’t stop you.

And when the fever finally broke, and her strength came back, she sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over her face.

“Ugh,” she muttered. “I feel like I got run over.”

“You look like you got run over,” you teased, ruffling her already messy hair.

She scowled but didn’t swat your hand away. Instead, she glanced at you, something unreadable in her gaze.

“Thanks,” she said gruffly.

Your lips curled. “For what?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes. “You know what for.”

You grinned. “Say it.”

“No.”

“C’mon. Just say it, baby.”

“Absolutely not.”

You poked her cheek. “Sevika.”

She grunted.

“Vikaaaa—” you cooed her name, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned into her.

She groaned, pushing your face away. “Fine. Thanks for taking care of me, you insufferable brat.”

You beamed. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes. Excruciating.”

You laughed, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to her forehead before she could complain. “You’re welcome, you stubborn thing.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t hide the small, almost reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Maybe, just maybe, she’d let you take care of her again next time.

Even if she would make you drag her out of the closet first.

A/N: BIG MAMA.

[greengoblinswifey]

i was the one that asked if you writw dark stuff. and tysm for replying, you are so incredibly sweet💕🎀

So, could you write a dark fanfic with Nicholas or Father Charlie (you choose lol) with noncon and maybe dv? like, reader meets him and one of her family members owns him something and he like? uses her instead? if thats okay, could u do it rlly darkkk?

tysm and ily!!! 💕💞

Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— your father fucked nicholas over and he kidnaps you to get his payback.

warnings— EXPLICIT CONTENT. kidnapping, manipulation, extreme degrading, praise kink, face slapping, male masturbation, crying kink, face fucking, CNC, unprotected sex, knife play, death threats, violence, bondage, mentions of bruises, choking, double penetration with knife handle, anal, breeding kink, stockholm syndrome.

a/n— i think this is quite…dark and thank you🫶🏽hope you guys enjoy, def stepped out of my comfort zone for this, requests are open!

Nicholas had always known your father was a powerful man, a producer and director with the kind of influence that could turn anyone into a Hollywood legend. They had made a deal, Nicholas would land two starring roles that would launch his career to the next level. The first film had given him some visibility, but no real money, thanks to your father’s manipulation of the contract. The second role was supposed to be his ticket to true fame and fortune. But then, it all fell apart. Your father broke his promises, cutting Nicholas out in favor of his own friend, Cooper Koch. Worse yet, he’d seized some of Nicholas' property as “leverage” during the filming, draining him financially and leaving him furious and betrayed.

Your father had underestimated just how deep Nicholas’ anger would run. He wanted what was rightfully his, and if he couldn’t get it through negotiations or agreements, he’d find another way. That’s when he learned about you—the daughter your father doted on, especially since the loss of his only son, your older brother, who was meant to be the family heir. But Nicholas wasn’t here for empathy. He wanted revenge, and he knew exactly how to get it.

You agreed to go on a date with Nicholas, the rising star you had met and grown fond of, without a second thought. But as you sat in his car, something felt off. He was silent, his gaze hard as he gripped the steering wheel, ignoring your attempts at small talk.

“Where are we going?” you asked, noticing that he’d missed the turn toward the restaurant.

He didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenched tightly. Finally, he murmured, “Change of plans.”

You felt a prickle of unease and glanced around, trying to piece together where he might be headed. The buildings grew sparse, and the trees thickened on either side of the road, casting shadows as the sun dipped lower. “This doesn’t look like the way to any restaurant,” you said, your voice faltering.

He turned to you, eyes cold. “It’s not.”

A chill ran down your spine. Panic set in as he accelerated, the car speeding down a winding road that led into the dense woods. “Nicholas, stop the car,” you demanded, reaching for the door handle, but he locked it before you could react.

He didn’t look at you, but his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “You think your father can cross me and get away with it? That he can just toss me aside like I’m nothing?” His grip on the wheel tightened. “This isn’t a date, sweetheart. This is payback.”

Your heart pounded as you pulled at the door, the lock refusing to budge. “You don’t have to do this! Whatever he did-”

“He took everything from me,” Nicholas snarled, his eyes darkening as he drove deeper into the woods. “Everything I worked for. The fame, the fortune, my properties, my pride. And now? I’m taking something from him.”

In a desperate attempt to escape, you kicked at him, your fists pounding against his arm. He barely flinched, his focus unbreakable as he finally pulled up to a secluded cabin, hidden by towering trees and thick brush. You barely had time to scream before he leaned over, his hand covering your mouth.

“Quiet,” he hissed, his voice cold as he tightened his grip. “You’re going to make this harder on yourself sweetheart.”

With a swift motion, he hit a spot on the side of your head, and darkness began to cloud your vision. The last thing you saw before losing consciousness was his dark gaze.

When you woke, your hands were bound to a bed frame in a dimly lit room, and your head throbbed. The dim light filtered through the cracks in the cabin walls, casting eerie shadows. He was there, leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a look that was almost satisfied.

“Comfortable?” he asked mockingly, tilting his head.

You struggled against the ropes, glaring at him. “You’re fucking insane! My father won’t just let this slide!”

He laughed, the sound sharp and humorless. “Your father will do exactly what I want, or he’ll never see you again.”

As you struggled against the ropes, glaring at him. “My father won’t stand for this. He’ll ruin you,” you spat, words filled with venom. “You think your career’s over now? It’s nothing compared to what he’ll do when he finds out what you’ve done.”

His smirk faded, his gaze darkening. In a flash, he crossed the room, sending a chill through you. He leaned down, his face mere inches from yours as his hand struck yours with force, the impact whipping your head to the side.

“Careful with that fucking attitude,” he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. “If you want to get through this in one piece, you’d better be a good little girl and play along.” His mouth curled into a mocking smile as he added, “Maybe I’ll let you go if you can manage that.”

A spark of hope flickered across your burning face, but his mocking laugh snuffed it out. “Oh, don’t look so hopeful,” he sneered. “I own you now. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for you.”

The next few days, Nicholas seemed almost amused by your resistance, feeding off your energy as he reminded you just how little control you had. You played along in the way he wanted you to, letting him hold you close as he told you about the disgusting things he wanted to do to you and your father and whatever other sick games he had in mind. Whenever he would see you cry and resist him, your acrylics digging in his back and leaving welts, you noticed the prominent bulge it left in his pants.

One morning, he threw down a newspaper, its headline blaring the news of your disappearance and the national search underway. Your father’s influence had reached every corner of the country, and law enforcement was relentless. Nicholas caught your glance, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “Guess Daddy dearest is worried,” he taunted, feigning innocence. “How touching.”

You burst into tears, unable to hold it in any longer, you missed your father and you wanted to be away from the psycho standing in front of you. He laughed in your face, slowly taking out his impressively long and hard cock, pumping it as you cried harder. Disgust filled you as you watched him moan the harder you cried. He was getting off to your pain and somehow—deep inside, watching him get off to you turned you on.

“Keep fucking crying sweetheart, you’re gonna make me cum so hard.” Disgusted, you turned your head away, refusing to look at the sight before you but he just chuckled. You opened your eyes feeling the bed dip and you looked up at him, seeing him with his cock above you.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he growled, his stroking become more frantic.

“You’re disgusting,” you spat. He stopped stroking his dick to slap you in the face with it, earning a soft whimper. Obeying him, you opened your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut at the man before you shoved his length into your mouth, thrusting, before he shot his load down your throat.

“Fucking hell, that’s a good fucking whore, take all my cum,” he groaned, grabbing a fistful of your curls and bucking his hips.

As soon as he let you go, your head snapped to the side, shame filling you.

Nicholas leaned in, his expression cold. “You’re mine now,” he said, his voice steady and unyielding. “You’ll make up for every single thing your father took from me. And once I’m done, once I’ve taken back what’s rightfully mine, he’ll be begging for my mercy.”

You glared back, forcing yourself to hold his gaze despite the fear tightening in your chest. “You’re delusional if you think you can control me or him,” you said, your voice shaking with defiance.

Nicholas laughed, unphased. “We’ll see. By the time I’m finished, you won’t even want to go back to that man.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Because I’n going to break you like a bitch and you’ll be begging to stay with me.”

He watched your expression, almost amused, as you struggled to maintain your composure. “You’ve done well so far, taking my cock down your throat,” he continued, his tone dark but oddly approving. “Maybe it’s time I marked you as mine.”

You swallowed, your mind racing. No matter how much you fought, the lines between fear and something you didn’t want to admit were beginning to blur. He seemed to sense it, a satisfied smirk crossing his face as he leaned back, leaving you to confront the uncertainty.

A gasp left your lips as he gripped your throat, tearing your dress off you. He was a predator and you were his prey. His eyes scanned your almost bare body, licking his lips as you quivered in fear. If your hands weren’t bound to the bed you would’ve tried concealing yourself.

“Please stop,” you whimpered.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, “don’t make me gag you, better yet I won’t, I want to hear you beg me to stop then I want to hear your little moans when you realize I’m making you feel good.”

Your lips quivered as you fought back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction he wanted.

“Now, I’m going to untie you and you’re going to take off your underwear like a good little bitch. If you try anything stupid, I’ll fucking kill you, understood?” he said, reaching for your wrists.

Slowly, you nodded, the threat rising fear inside you but a sharp smack to the face jolted you. “I said do you fucking understand me?”

“Y-yes Nicholas.”

He untied your wrists, and you looked down to see them black and blue. Slowly, you carried out his request, only having to take off your underwear as you unfortunately went to the ‘date’ not wearing a bra.

“Now spread those legs.”

A soft whimper left your lips and you complied, knowing exactly what the psycho would do to you if you refused. “Good girl.” He reached for the bedside table, taking out a sharp knife from the drawer. “Now, once again, if you think of doing anything stupid, I’ll slit that pretty throat and still fuck it.”

He held the knife lightly against your throat, his fingers dipping between your legs as you trembled. “If you’re so fucking scared and I’m a psycho, why are you soaked? Why the fuck are you wet?”

Shame overtook you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, just wanting it all to be over. You thought about your father, your dead brother, anything to take your mind off what was about to happen.

“It’s gonna be okay princess, I’ll take good care of you if you take good care of me.” He knelt on the bed, making sure you were mouth level with his cock. “It’s time to take good care of me, open up that mouth and I swear to god if you use teeth, I’ll use the knife to knock out every last one of them.”

Reluctantly, you opened your mouth, and he slowly pushed his big cock into it. Your mouth was wide open and you were gagging on it, trying your best to breathe. He began snapping his hips forward, his cock continuously going down your throat and through it all, he kept the knife pressed against your throat.

“Fuck, you really have a mouth on you,” he chuckled, “you’re suck a good cock sleeve, I’m going to enjoy using you like the whore you are.”

His thrusts became rougher and you could hardly breathe and soon, he held you by your curls, pushing your head all the way down until your nose was on his pubes. “I’m gonna cum bitch, swallow my fucking load, don’t let it go to waste.”

You couldn’t even spit it out if you wanted to. He released down your throat, the action making you cough around his dick as he made sure to milk every drop inside your mouth. “You did so good for me baby, I know you’re enjoying this.”

You shivered as he used the cold handle of the knife, rubbing it up and down your folds. Shame bubbled inside you as you heard the unmistakable sound of squelching noises telling you exactly how soaked you were.

“What a disgusting slut, your pussy is practically gushing for me, are you seriously enjoying this?” You looked away embarrassed, heat rising in your cheeks.

A gasp left your lips as you felt the handle sink into your pussy. “Nicholas, please, no,” you begged, disgusted at the sight below you.

“What the fuck did I tell you? Shut the fuck up!” he screamed at you.

Your pussy clenched around the handle as he began fucking you with it faster, the pain soon subsiding and being replaced by pleasure. Trying to hold back your moans seemed futile as he began rubbing your clit and the handle hit a certain spot inside you.

“You’re getting off on this? Fuck, you’re much more of a whore than I thought. If you cum on the knife’s handle I’ll know for sure you were just asking for my cock, you’re fucking asking for it,” he chuckled, darkly.

Hearing his words, you pressed your lips together, containing your moans and trying your hardest not to cum. He only chuckled at your attempts, the handle speeding up inside you and the squelching noises becoming louder and louder. You wished you were deaf in that moment, at least you wouldn’t have to endure the shame of knowing being manhandled by your kidnapper was turning you on.

“Cum for me whore, I know you want to, you won’t be able to stop yourself forever.” Your body betrayed you and as soon as the words left his lips, you soaked his hand and the handle inside you.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re disgusting,” he laughed, looking down at his soaked hand, “did you really just squirt from me fucking you with a knife blade?”

It felt like your world was crumbling as he laughed mockingly and your pussy twitched, slowly gushing.

“Well then, that was easy, I think you’re ready for this big, fat cock to fuck that tight pussy.” He dragged you by your legs, pulling you flat on your back and rubbed the tip up and down your pussy.

“Nicholas, you don’t have to do this, my father will give you back everything he took, I promise. Y-you can let me go, please, I won’t tell.”

“Oh shut up,” he said, slapping you on the mouth, “you don’t get it do you? I own you now. You’re mine. He took everything away from me and I’ll take and use you instead.”

Not giving up, you tried to beg more, “Please don’t, I’m begging you.”

“If you didn’t want me to fuck you, you wouldn’t have squirted for me. You wouldn’t have been soaked like a whore from my touch. Surely you want this, surely your body knows you better than your dumb little brain does. Just lay there and take it, you’ll like it.”

Maybe he was right. If you didn’t want it, why else would you have been wet? Why did you cum? Your body would’ve refused him. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, maybe he just wanted to make you feel good like he did before.

A scream erupted as he pushed his thick cock inside you, giving you no time to adjust. “That’s it bitch, scream for me.”

Your gasps and screams grew louder as he began pounding into you, the bed frame smacking against the wall and your tits bouncing. He took up the knife and traced it along your jaw, admiring how you looked taking him. He brought it down to your tits, increasing his pace and making you moan and scream even louder for him. The intensity of it all was unbearable and you could already feel the impending orgasm.

“I need you to remember you’re nothing but a pussy for me to fuck, a cock slut. You feel so fucking good clenching around my dick.”

He began using the wet handle to rub your clit and you knew it was over for you. Gripping on to his toned biceps, your jaw fell open, loud moans leaving you as you came all over his raw cock inside you. Curse him for not at least using a condom.

“That’s it, let it all out, let out those slutty moans too. You should be a bitch in porn with the way you squirt and moan,” he laughed breathlessly.

He swiftly flipped you onto your back, but instead of pulling your ass up to him, he pressed a bit of his body weight onto you as you lay flat on the bed, slipping his cock inside your pussy once more.

“Spread your pussy for me,” he demanded.

He began pounding into you as you shamefully had your hands on your ass spreading yourself for him. “You should see just how wet you are, but I’m sure hearing it tells you all you need to know.”

You felt so full with him pressing down on you, thrusting roughly, having no regard for the mix of pain that accompanied the pleasure. But, deep down, you were enjoying it. You enjoyed the way he manhandled you, the way he spoke to you like you were nothing, the way he was fucking you like you were just a flesh light.

“Oh god your pussy is just sucking me in, clenching so tightly around me, cum for me again bitch.”

Unable to spread your pussy for him any longer, you gripped the sheets as you came hard around his cock. He continued fucking you through your high, making sure you felt everything. Making sure you knew who was fucking you and who gave you such an intense orgasm.

“My turn. I’m gonna cum inside you, breed this pussy. You’re gonna be all swollen and pregnant, then that baby is gonna be my lucky ticket to yours and your father’s fortune,” he laughed.

“Please, no, I can’t— I’m not on birth control,” you cried out.

“Oh fuck, do you feel my cock throbbing? That’s even better.”

Your protests proved futile and he filled you to the brim. The warm feeling of his load inside you making you moan in content.

“See? You’re just a slutty bitch who likes getting her pussy fucked. You know what else needs to be fucked? That tight little ass.”

Horror spread across your face. No one had ever fucked you in the ass before. He spat on your asshole then used your juices and his cum from your pussy to lubricate it, pushing it in with his fingers. You winced at the unusual intrusion. He continued fingering your ass, shoving the lubricants inside and prepping you for his cock.

“Couldn’t stop looking at that tight asshole when you were spreading for me. I just had to have it. You were practically begging for it.”

Maybe he was right, why else would you have spread yourself? Of course he would’ve seen your tight ass and wanted to fuck it too. How could you be so stupid?

“Get ready bitch.”

“Please—”

Your pleads fell on deaf ears and he pulled your ass up to him, pressing his hand into your back so you could arch for him. Slowly, his big cock began slipping inside your ass, inch by inch. He was more generous with it than your pussy.

“Fuck baby, this ass is so fucking tight, I know for goddamn sure I’m the first to fuck you in it.” He was right.

He began pounding harder as your ass opened up for him. You felt so full, you didn’t know you could feel more full until he pushed the handle of the knife into your pussy.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, the intensity making you see stars. All that was in your head was pleasure and cumming again.

“There she is, that’s my girl,” he beamed, “now bounce that ass back on my cock and this knife.”

Obeying immediately, you bounced your ass back. Your moans were so loud, the whole woods could probably hear. You didn’t care anymore. You couldn’t deny how good he was making you feel, how he was hitting all the right spots inside you. His thrusts met your ass and he rammed the handle inside your pussy over and over.

“Squirt for me baby, squirt and I’ll fill this ass up.”

You nodded frantically, still throwing your ass back to him and you screamed, your orgasm overtaking you like you’ve never felt before.

“Good girl, that’s my bitch, now beg, beg for me to cum inside your ass.”

“Please, fuck— please cum inside my ass, I need you to, please do it,” you begged.

He smirked, throwing the knife on the bed and slapping your ass as he groaned loudly, his load spurting in your ass. He held you in place and soon pulled out, watching as his cum leaked out of both your holes. He ruined you. You were his.

As he pulled out and fell beside you, you instinctively snuggled into his side, a million degrading thoughts running through your head.

[zephyrchama]

Make barbatos fanfics pls

The memory of your recent mishap kept playing in your mind. It was a complete mistake - you hadn't intended to drench Barbatos in tea. Despite him being more than capable of protecting himself, you foolishly attempted to shield him from whatever toxic concoction Solomon was cooking up. One thing led to another, a massive pot fell over, there was an ear-deafening clang, and Barbatos was on the ground. Sopping wet.

He wasted no time in excusing himself to clean off, leaving you to bear the weight of your sins. Anyone could have easily cleaned the mess with magic, but Barbatos instead opted for a shower for some peace and quiet to calm down. Solomon was left to scrub the floor by hand since he started this issue in the first place.

As all of the castle's linens had been conveniently gathered in the laundry room to be inventoried, you took it upon yourself to grab a clean towel and deliver it to Barbatos.

You could hear the water running from down the hall. It was so loud, you weren't sure Barbatos could hear you. Wisps of steam escaped from the cracks around the bathroom door. You knocked. There was no answer.

"Barbatos?" you called, knocking again. There was no answer. Only the running of water. He was probably already in the shower. You could take this opportunity to grab his soiled uniform and clean it before the stains permanently set in.

With that plan of action, you opened the door. Barbatos was not in the shower, despite the running faucet. In fact, Barbatos was stark naked in the middle of the room. A washcloth in his hand indicated he had already obtained his own towels. He had his back to the door, as if he was just about to enter the tub. He made eye contact with you over his shoulder, eyes wide.

That one second felt like an hour.

His posture was superb. A mix of tea and condensation from the muggy bathroom air trailed down the curve of his spine, fine enough to be in a medical textbook. Your eyes followed, down to the base of his tail and the derriere behind it. Two fabulous, firm full moons. A sight rarer than anything else in all the three realms.

"Did you need something?"

Barbatos' usual polite tone was punctuated with umbrage. He placed a hand on his chest, as though shielding his visage.

"I'm sorry!" were the first words you spat out, on reflex. Coherent thinking failed you in the face of such art. Sentences started falling out of your mouth and you hoped they made sense. "I thought you might need a towel, so I got one from the laundry and came to give it to you. I knocked! I did, I knocked, but you didn't answer so I came in to leave this."

You held the towel forward with both hands as an offering. "And I was gonna collect your clothes so I could wash them. As an apology for, ah, that other thing I did. Sorry."

You stared at the ground. Even Barbatos' ankles were pristine. A little bony, tapering down at the sides that led to his slender feet. You watched his weight shift as his tail curled closer to his body.

"How thoughtful. I'd appreciate if you could hang it on the towel bar. I will handle my clothes myself, later."

"Right, of course." You swiveled and diligently hung the towel up. The dirty clothes in question were on the ground, still soaking wet, neatly folded in a square. You looked from them back to Barbatos. He was rooted in place, not budging in the slightest. One wrong move, and who knew how much you'd see?

More than the current eyeful, that's for sure. More than the slope of his shoulders. More than the rise and fall of his upper body with each fresh breath. More than the sight of his wet hair clinging to the curve of his jawbone and the tenseness in his arm when his painted fingernails wrapped around the tiny washcloth.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. An obvious cue for you to leave.

"I'm good," you said. It was hard not to ogle at the size of his waist fully unobscured by clothing, and its ratio to his hips. "Do you... need any help?"

"I am fine. I will be taking my shower now." His voice echoed around the bathroom as you finally left. It echoed around your head, too, when he said, "be good and wait for me."

[bamsara]

Why did you start writing? From what I can tell you put a lot of passion into the works you make, where did it all start for the lovely stories you make now?

Wayyyy earlier when I was 9-10ish, and even at that age I was writing a lot, with just pencil and notebook paper. I know I have written earlier than that, but I have no evidence of it.

I filled up an entire 3inch binder with an entirely hand written story about a girl who lives who her grandma and has a dog named Trout, almost dies in tornado at school and finds out the tornado as a sentient being that was trying to kill her because she has some connection to a random dude that can control the weather, and a elegant queen lady who controls ice that basically adopts her and turns her into a scout to find other people who have elemental powers. She doesn't have any herself, but for some reason she can tell who does, and then can steal it. I still have that binder in my closet. Would not recommend reading it though lmao

I started publishing my writing online, fanfiction specifically, when I was 11ish and totally not supposed to be online yet. My first fanfic I wrote and published was for Soul Eater, and that account and those stories are still up to this day. (cringe warning for the exact kind of thing you would expect an 10-11 year old to write) I actually had two fanfic.net accounts, this one where I wrote L4D stuff too.

I switched from fanfic.net to Wattpad after I got into FNAF and wrote a bunch of Fnaf stuff from an AU I had in 2015, and that AU is what led me to making a tumblr account that year, mainly to post my art for my stories. (I had always been drawing, too, but I didn't start posting that until wattpad)

And then I switched to AO3 around 2018 and my stories have been there since. I have, quite literally, been writing for nearly 15 years, with pretty much all of my work well-documented online since I started.

I hate my older works from when I was a teen/kid, and even work from just a few years back, and even removed them at some point, but decided to keep them up for archival purposes. Especially since you can kinda see how my writing style has changed, my standards in writing like the wordcount going from 80k at 11yrs old to 200k something for my long fics, my viewpoints and beliefs, etc etc. I am also very...picky about the stories I read, so if I cannot find what I want, I will make it myself.

Writing is absolutely the best and most practiced coping mechanism I've had since forever. I will write even if I do not have any readers. I still write things that I do not post online, so overtime what was something I deeply enjoyed as a hobby and an outlet to process difficult and low parts of my life becoming something enjoyable to other people is kind of wild to me, still.

And I'll continue to do it even if one day this account explodes or something. When I said 'Writing and creating art is the only thing keeping me sane' I was not trying to be quirky /lighthearted. I'll dedicate entire days to writing chapters in a row.

But yeah I've been writing for a long while, I'm glad you guys really like it! Look at my cats

[sykloni]

The Timeline of Theseus by @creativitycache is a fanfic where Jon goes back in time through the Distortion's corridors and ends up back in 1996 as 8 year old Jonathan Sims filled with all the power of fully formed avatar and not really a clue about any of it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24018289/chapters/57784525

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I love this fic so much. Every time I read it I think about drawing fanart for it, and now I finally went ahead and actually did it! These are in chronological order so further you scroll more spoilers for the fic you will get. If you have not read the fic yet, you have been warned:

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I have no sympathy for this man. He was the one who chose to adopt a child and it brings me immense joy to see him having to deal with the consequences 😏

(Not the colors I thought I was going to go for, but hey it works!)

Fiona is so real for this.

The fact that this is how Jonah has chosen to spend his or I guess... other people's lifetimes probably says a lot about him as a person. (I honestly kind of love that for him, but I also love seeing ridiculousness of it being pointed out)

One of the things I love about this fic is how much the other institutions of the Eye are utilized! It is one of those things that the podcast left me yearning for.

There is something so interesting about the power dynamics between the institutions in this fic. I really like how present they feel and how much they are something Elias needs to take into account in his decision making. Also the conference in the night of Alexandria and the chaos that led up to it 👀 (That might just be my favourite moment in the fic)

[lilithslittleworld]

can you write something with tobias eaton ?? preferably heavy making out and fluff. i think both of you being instructors/trainers . you can do anything you want

His Girl

A/N: yes ofc! The idea of this fanfic is that Tris never chose Dauntless and captured Four’s attention, you did🤭 I hope you enjoy it!

Sidenote: I LOVE getting requests from you guys, they’re so fun to write, so thank you:) There is also another Author's Note at the end of the fic!

Summary: After a first brutal year in Dauntless, Four managed to get you an instructors position alongside him. However, you can't help but wonder if the soft glances and brushing of hands is strictly professional or if it's something else...

Sometimes when you opened your eyes, you still expected to be in the dorms with the other new initiates. It had been months since you'd gotten your own little studio but it didn't always feel real. You liked having a space all to yourself, for your things, and without having to share. If that made you selfish, you didn't care.

You rubbed your eyes groggily, staring out of the one tiny window your flat had. "Another gray day," you mumbled, pulling yourself out of your bed. To call it a bed was an overstatement but you were forever grateful for that spare mattress Christina didn't want.

The sound of voices grew as you walked down the narrow corridor that led to The Hub. You could distinguish a few: some were other instructors and some came from your own initiates. You liked your bunch, especially since they were the first you were training. As for the rest of the instructors, the majority were fairly nice, some more than others. But only one stood out. Four.

Your feelings towards Four were unclear. On the one hand, he had trained you well, even landed you a job beside him. But your feelings towards him weren't solely professional. No, there were moments in your lonely nights that you imagined him taking you into his strong arms, his lips against yours, protecting you from a danger you both knew didn't exist. You knew that dating instructors wasn't off limits but it couldn't possibly be permissible, socially at least. The rest of trainers usually kept to themselves, indulging in the occasional hookup or fling but it was never anything more serious. Hooking up with Four sounded spectacular but it also didn't feel genuine.

You found your fellow instructors in the middle of the hub, going over that day's training no doubt. Four's back was facing you, as he spoke with Eric, turning his face slightly as he did. You knew he'd seen you out of the corner of his eye when he spun around halfway to meet your gaze.

"Y/N," he nodded at you, his eyes fleeting over your face quickly.

"Four," you responded, standing a few inches away from him.

"Ready for today?" he mused.

"Like always," you said, rolling your eyes and punching him lightly in the arm.

"Getting stronger, Y/N," he said, a small smirk pulling at his lips, "Careful or I'll have to hit back."

You gawked at him in a mock shock, your eyes widening. "You wouldn't dare."

Four shrugged, "You're not my student anymore. There are no rules that say instructors can't fight."

"Oh yeah?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow at him, "See me after class." You took off towards the training room, not bothering to hear his response. Though you knew you had caused an impression.

Your classes that day went by quickly, the minutes ticked closer to your break, closer to seeing Four again. You were thankful to have passed initiation but there was a tiny part of you that missed spending greater part of your days with Four, even if it was through the means of enduring physical hardships and fist fights with others. That's usually how trainings went anyway.

As the final initiates thinned out of the crowd they'd formed around you, the silhouette of one caught your eye as you bent down to pick up the scattered equipment left behind. It didn't take you long to realize it wasn't one of your students, as none of them were nearly that tall, that strong. Or that silent for that matter.

"Right on time," you said coolly, not bothering to glance over at Four as you retrieved knife after knife from the floor.

"I take all of my altercations very seriously," he replied, his voice sounded even deeper in the empty training room.

"Ah," you smiled, spinning around to find him staring down at you, his arms crossed. "Is this what this is?"

"I'll remind you that you're the one who told me to see you after class," he smirked, rolling his eyes, "I've done my homework, haven't I?"

"Very punctual," you answered, tilting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. Four chuckled lightly in response.

"I hate to burst your bubble, though," he said, shaking his head slightly, "I don't have a huge appetite for kicking your ass tonight, Y/N."

"Never took you as a coward, Four!" you gasped, the sarcasm thick in your voice.

"There's nothing cowardly about not wanting to fight on a first date," he replied matter-of-factly. A thrill ran through your body at his words, a hint of blush lingering on your cheeks.

"Is this what this is?" you asked, the shock on your face this time was real but you hid it well.

"Only if that's what you want," he said slowly, taking in your bewildered state. Or maybe you hadn't been as discreet about your surprise as you'd thought.

"Of course," you blurted out, "I just wasn't sure if I was picking up on the right vibe, that's all."

"You're not very easy to read either, you know that?" he shook his head, his shoulder moving as he chuckled.

"Mhm," you huffed, tossing the last few knives back into their container, making sure to hide your suddenly flushed face.

Twenty minutes later, Four had dragged you to The Pit once again. Only now, the seemingly welcoming vibe had been replaced with a much tougher crowd. A quick scan around you gave you the answer. A competition. Most things in Dauntless seemed to be life or death but swinging across the Chasm on a ragged, old rope sounded like a solid death sentence.

"You brought me to swing to my death?" you asked Four sourly, careful as to not make your excitement noticeable in your voice.

Four's lips tugged into a smile. "Not you, obviously. We're here to watch."

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, turning towards him now, "You don't think I can do that?"

"Let's be honest, Y/N, out of the two of us, I'm the expert in ropes," he replied coolly.

"We'll see about that," you muttered, your feet taking off beneath you as you finished your sentence. You were determined to prove him wrong. Was it risky? Yes but how hard could swinging from a rope be?

You were sure Four's voice was calling out for you in the auditory blur that surrounded you but you didn't care. Pushing past the bystanders, you made your way to the edge of the Chasm. A dozen of big-looking Dauntless members stood waiting for the next opponents. That's when you realized there were two ropes, one for you and one for someone else.

"What're you waiting for?" a small, yet strong Dauntless man called out at you.

"We won't bite!" said another, "Sheela's been standing here for a while," he said, gesturing at a tall, brawny Dauntless woman that stood holding one of the ropes.

"Well, I'm sure I was worth the wait," you replied, your voice loud and even.

The Dauntless members laughed, a few looked at you with bewildered faces.

"Well, little lady, step right up," the man said, "You'll have to reach the rope though."

You walked right to the edge, suddenly aware of how far the rope was from you. You would have to lean over the edge quite a bit to grab it. The good news was that if you did, there would be something to hold onto. You didn't want to think about the bad news.

You reached out a shaking arm towards the rope, leaning your body forward as you did. Your fingertips brushed the coarse, prickly line, trying anxiously to pull it towards you. You knew you needed another inch of inclination. Taking a deep breath to steady you, you pushed your body even further.

Thankfully your calculations had been precise, as the rope was now in your tight grip and your body around it. Screams emerged from behind you as you fell forward, many thinking you had missed it altogether. But no, your legs had twisted around it and your hands were holding you close to it. The problem now? You were quite literally over the Chasm.

"Y/N!" Four's voice sounded louder over the rest of people cheering you on, though many still seemed doubtful about your fate. "Swing!" he yelled. And they call this man a genius.

"I got it," you called out, knowing very well he wouldn't see you rolling your eyes at him from this distance.

"She's got it!" the Dauntless men who had teased you earlier yelled back at him. Four's eyes shot daggers back at them but didn't say a word.

They were right of course, you did have this under control. You swung yourself back and forth, each swing bringing you closer to the stone ledge. You used the momentum of your last push to reach out one of your legs, pushing your foot down firmly on the pavemented edge as you pulled the rest of your body back to safety.

The crowd behind you hooted and cheered for your triumphant return. Four's face seemed slightly more relaxed at seeing you back on the floor. He even seemed to smile.

Sheela seemed to be the only one not celebrating. "Are we doing this or not?"

The shorter Dauntless man held up a hand to both of you before turning to the crowd that only seemed to be growing. "The rules are simple. Step one: grab the rope," he grinned at you for a split second, "Step two: swing across the Chasm to the other side. Step three: climb the eastern wall and retrieve the arrow. Step four: come back before your opponent does."

There was no turning back now. Another Dauntless woman held a pistol up in the air, ready to fire the shot that would send you and Sheela swinging towards a very probable death. The shot rang through the silent Chasm loud and clear, the sound bouncing off the walls around you.

In an instant you were running towards the edge, wrapping your body around the rope once more as you swung yourself over the black abyss. You made sure to give yourself a few swings here and there as you neared the other side. Worst case scenario would be to get trapped in the middle and have to rely solely on your inertia to reach solid ground again. Luckily, once again, everything had gone according to plan. A few minutes later, your feet were on the surface of the other side of the Chasm. Sheela hadn't been so fortunate.

"Nice, Y/N!" Four called out from the other side of the Chasm. He was now standing next to the other Dauntless men, near the edge where you had stood just moments before.

You let out a breathy laugh as you tied the rope around a rock. No one had said anything about that and this way, you'd have one less step to think about. The walk to the eastern wall was short but you made sure to focus on your feet. The accidental slip of a foot could send you down. The arrow was lodged about fifteen feet up, in a small crack. This side of the Chasm wasn't as smooth, thankfully. There would be many spots to place your feet on as you climbed it.

You jumped up, arms reaching for the first rock that seemed pushed out, grabbing onto it tightly as you surveyed the rest of the wall. The climb was exhausting, so much stretching and rearranging your feet but the impending doom below you motivated you enough to not stop. You could hear the others cheering for you across the opening as you continued scaling.

About ten feet up, your extremities began to tremble. It started slowly but ultimately ended up wracking your entire core. You suddenly became aware of every droplet of sweat that dripped down you. But you couldn't brush them away. The arrow was now just a foot away from you. It was so close but your body was so weary that it felt like miles afar.

"Come on, Y/N!" Four's voice interrupted your troubling thoughts "Climb!"

His voice brought back a spark inside of you, one that pushed your body to its edge as you reached up towards the next ledge. The arrow was lodged safely in the wall but pulling out was the simplest thing you'd done this night. You let out a sigh of relief as you held it in your hand, resting your feet on the ledge you'd just held.

"That's my girl!" Four shouted with pride, his hands cupped around his mouth. His words sent a shiver down your spine and a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

You had half a mind to check on your opponent, who happened to be scaling halfway up the wall to your right. You couldn't get distracted now, you still had to climb back down. Placing the arrow in your mouth to free both hands, you began your descent to safety. The way down was much easier, since you had already learned where to step and where not to.

In a matter of minutes, you were back on the ground, running towards the rock you had tied your rope around. Sheela was just seconds away from reaching her arrow but you knew her climb down would be as quick as yours.

Wasting no time, you untied your knot and took a couple steps back to give your swing more momentum. This last step of the competition was the least of your worries. You swung yourself for the last time, your feet pushing off of the ground firmly.

Four waited for you on the other side, his arms ready to catch you as you came closer. You flew right into them, sending you both toppling to the floor. In a blur of seconds, the Dauntless group had pulled you up into their arms, throwing you up in the air as they celebrated your victory. You craned your neck back to catch a glimpse of Sheela, who was still on the other side of the Chasm.

A pair of strong arms caught you. Four smiled down at as he slipped you away from the crowd. It would be a matter of seconds before they realized you weren't among them.

"Had me worried for a second there, Y/N," he smirked as he walked.

"I had it under control," you replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

He laughed, his whole body shaking against you. "Believe me, this wasn't my idea of a first day."

"Well I'd say it was one of the best in the books," you smiled and you meant it.

"You're insane, Y/N," he said, shaking his head in bewilderment as you reached a quieter part of The Pit. Four set you on your feet gently.

"No, I'm your girl," you said softly, smiling up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Oh, without a doubt," he murmured, his lips just centimeters away from your own.

"What am I going to have to kiss you too?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he laughed breathlessly before bringing his lips to yours. You expected a gentle kiss but there was a force and urgency behind it that made your heart flutter. Four's lips were so warm and soft and his arms wrapped protectively around you sent you spiraling. You needed him in a way you'd never felt before. You pushed your body closer to his, pulling his hair as his hands made their way to the the small of your back. Four's tongue found yours, swirling against it. Your breaths mixed with his own, his toned chest rising and falling as you kissed him. His lips moved against yours ardently, pulling you impossibly closer to him, the warmth of his body consuming you. He was driving you crazy.

You pulled away quickly before you did anything stupid like ask him to spend the night. It took you both a few seconds to compose yourselves before Four spoke.

"So, next date?" he began, playing softly with your hair.

"Who says there's going to be a next date?" you challenged, fulling aware that you were being a pain in the ass tonight but Four seemed to love it.

"I'm going to have to fight you for that," he said seriously.

"Sounds like we have date number two," you giggled, before you pulled Four back in for another kiss.

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A/N: I realize this isn't too fluffy so I apologize and will definitely write the second date if you'd like!!! (and with a spicier ending!)

[ateliersss]

Blooming Family Part 1 - He Will Come

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: You were caught three days after you and your son's arrival on earth by an organization called Project Stargazer. Now you both were treated like guinea pigs. No wonder, considering said son was a hybrid of human and Yautja. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 4,224 Masterlist

⇨ This is based on the scene in the lab where the sedated Yautja-human hybrid is being held captive (movie: "The Predator", 2018). The plot before and after this scene has nothing to do with the fanfic. Either way, I barely remember the movie. I just used the scene for my own scenario.

⇨ Want to join the tag list?

You had been stupid, so stupid. You should have listened to Mi'ytiar, should have listened to him when he told you to stay on the ship during your stay on Earth while your son went hunting. You had insisted on coming with him, as you desperately wanted to see your home planet again.

Not that you missed it. You loved Mi'ytiar, loved to be his mate, loved your life with him and your son on Yautja Prime.

You had just wanted to leave the ship to get some fresh air and see the full moon, which you couldn't see in your new home, when you suddenly were surrounded by soldiers. You didn't even think about defending yourself, not in your condition. You had let it happen when they grabbed you and put you roughly in one of the black SUVs.

So many questions swirled around in your mind — how did they find you? What about the ship? What did they want with you? Would they hurt you? And what about Akail? Was he hurt?

You hadn't dared to ask the armed men who were in the car with you. They all had looked at you with different emotions on their faces — disgust, curiosity, anger. One of them wore a grin that made your skin crawl.

When they arrived at their base, you were dragged through many corridors and were examined by — and you thanked God for that — female doctors. They took your blood, forced you into a strange white suit, and put you into a sterile room.

Now you sat in a corner, huddled together. The door was in the middle of the wall on the other side of the room. A camera hung in the corner across from you from the ceiling and had an overview of the entire room. It reminded you of an interrogation room with windows to the left and right of the door, which looked like a mirror from the inside but allowed a glimpse into the room from the outside, and a table and two chairs standing in the middle.

You had pulled your legs to your chest as much as your swollen belly would allow and leaned your head sideways against the wall.

It's gonna be okay, you thought to yourself. Everything is going to be fine.

You didn't know if you were trying to calm yourself down or your pup who could sense your agitation and responded to you with kicking. You sat up straight in a cross-legged position, wrapped your arms protectively around your belly, and caressed it soothingly.

Don't worry, little one. We'll be home soon. Your daddy will come and get us out of here. You have no idea how eager we are to meet you.

Not far from you, Sean Keyes greeted Casey Bracket.

"There you are!" He said as soon as Casey stepped out of the elevator. "Welcome, I–"

Before he could continue, Casey walked straight past him to look at the two metal helmets and something that looked like a gun, everything displayed behind thick glass. None of it was human.

"Alien technology." She stated in disbelief. "Is that what you wanted me to see?" Casey's eyes wandered to the other showcases that displayed even more weapons and equipment. "Can I take a better look at it?"

"Ahh." Sean laughed, "But you haven't even seen the main attraction."

Casey tore her gaze from an interesting-looking spear engraved with intriguing carvings and looked up at Sean. He had climbed the few steps that led to a glass wall overlooking a mix of operating room and laboratory, and gestured with his head for her to follow him.

Quickly joining him, they both looked down and into the room. It was occupied by many people who, from their appearance, were scientists. There were guards, eight in total, guarding all four doors. Screens hung on the walls and desks carried computers and strange gadgets.

The only thing that got Casey's complete attention was the table in the middle of the room and especially what was on it.

"Doctor Bracket."

Casey looked away from the creature and at the man who had spoken to her.

"Would you like to meet the Predator?"

Yes, that's exactly what she wanted.

Still processing what she had just seen, she followed Sean Keyes into the decontamination chamber. She was given a suit that looked similar to the ones the scientists were wearing in the laboratory. The decontamination process didn't take long and she quickly slipped into the suit.

"Thanks for coming." The dark-skinned man, Will Traeger, said to Casey as soon as the lab door opened and shook her hand. "I'm sure you have questions."

"If I'm honest, only two." Casey answered and followed the man down the stairs. "Why do you call it the Predator?"

They came to a halt in front of the table the creature was lying on.

"It's a nickname. You know, the data suggests that it tracks its prey, exploits weakness. It seems to, well, enjoy it. It's like a game."

"That's not a Predator. That's a sports hunter."

"Sorry?"

"A Predator kills its prey to survive. I mean, what you're describing is more like a bass fisherman." Casey simply answered, taking a step closer to the table.

"Well, we took a vote. Predator sounds cooler, right?" Will laughed and received approval from the surrounding scientists. "We found him and his ship. He's heavily sedated."

Casey had long stopped listening to him. She was completely absorbed by the creature, or Predator, taking in every inch of it. The physique indicated that it was a male. His height had to be over 2 meters. He had greenish skin that resembled reptilian-like scales. Its head was big and oval in shape. Instead of hair, what appeared to be dreadlocks grew out of it. His mandibles were the most eye-catching feature about him.

Could they be used for defense? And how did the food intake work?

She noticed that even unconscious, he was making a sound that closely resembled a cat's purring.

"You are one beautiful motherfucker." She finally said.

"I'm gonna guess your second question is why you're here."

Casey looked up to Will and signaled him with a nod to continue.

"Our test results yielded something a little… odd."

Sean, standing next to Casey, handed her a device. She looked back and forth between the two men before accepting it. The screen showed a more complex DNA structure than that of a human, without a doubt that of the Predator.

"Is this a joke?" She questioned in disbelief.

"We ran the genome sequence ten times. This specimen has–"

"–human DNA." Casey finished stunned.

"Yeah." Will nodded, "Look, we know about spontaneous speciation. Mostly plants and insects but–"

"But some mammals. The Red Wolf, for example, a hybrid of the coyote and the grey wolf." Sean interrupted him this time.

"It's possibly some form of recombinant technology." Will added.

"I get it. You want to know if someone fucked an alien." Casey summed it up, finally knowing her purpose here.

"Not necessarily."

Casey looked questioningly at Will. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, we have a rough idea. We would just like to know the detailed procedure."

Casey's eyes widened and she looked at him in bewilderment. "You don't seriously expect a woman to procreate with that thing. There's no way that–"

"Oh, there is no need for that." Sean assured her, "Like I already mentioned earlier, we found his ship thanks to his equipment. But not only that."

He turned to the largest screen in the room and nodded to a man who started typing on his computer and turned the screen on. It showed some kind of interrogation room. It wasn't long before Casey spotted a woman sitting cross-legged on the floor, slowly rocking back and forth.

"Who is that?" She asked and inched closer to the screen in curiosity.

"His mother." Sean answered matter-of-factly, folding his hands behind his back.

Casey slowly looked from the screen over to the Predator, then back. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Not at all." Will chuckled. "His DNA matches with hers. Although the father's genetic heritage is more dominant than hers, you can still see differences between this one–" He nodded to the unconscious alien, "–and a homozygous Predator."

"Wow." Casey mumbled and returned her gaze to the screen.

The woman now walked in circles through the room, stroking — and the biologist had to do a double take — her growing stomach.

Holy hell, she was pregnant!

"Wow indeed. And not only that, but her human DNA has been altered to resemble that of the Predator."

"We believe it's a kind of adaptation to the living conditions of his home planet." Sean started, "According to the blood tests, and we did several because we didn't want to believe the results, this woman is over a hundred years old. We think she was born in the early 1900s, although she looks like she's in her mid-twenties."

Casey's mouth fell open, her heart pounding against her rib cage. "I want to meet her."

He nodded and smiled at her. "That was the plan. No one has spoken to her yet, not even the nurse who brought her food or was taking her to the bathroom."

"While science can answer many questions and give us great insight into our being, there are still things that remain unanswered." Will added, "We don't know when she left Earth or how it was possible for her to reproduce with an alien. We don't know how her DNA changed, and because of that, we don't even know who she really is."

Casey nodded. "And you want me to get the answers to those questions from her?"

"Indeed."

Casey was watching you through the one-way window. You were still pacing, one hand supporting your back and the other stroking your stomach in a circular motion. Even though you seemed nervous and scared, you also looked like a proud lioness ready to attack to protect her baby.

"Ready?" Sean asked.

Casey looked briefly at him and nodded.

"Great. We will wait here to watch and listen. In her condition, I doubt she will attempt anything for the sake of her child, but if she does it will only take a second, and security will rush the room."

"Good to know." She mumbled before heading to the door.

With a deep breath, she pushed down the door handle.

You caught that movement in the corner of your eye and turned to the intruder. "What have you done to him?!" You immediately demanded hysterically, growling at her like a wild animal. "Where did you take him? Where did you take my son?"

It was good that Casey was the first to speak to you. Probably no one out there had the slightest decency to treat you like a real person and would have strapped you to a table, too, careless of harm to you or your child.

"They took him to a lab and are holding him there. Nobody hurt him, I swear it." Casey said, raising her hands to show you she meant no harm. "They just want to know more about him and his kind and why he is here, that's all."

You stared at her, softly caressing your belly as you pondered her words.

When there was no reply, Casey continued, "I just want to talk to you. We want to know how you… why you…"

"Why I got knocked up by an alien?" You suggested bluntly.

Casey nodded. "Yes. It's practically unthinkable to come across an alien hybrid and its mother."

"Where I went after his father took me from earth, it's more of a rarity than unthinkable."

Casey took a step forward and hastily asked, "Do you mean you're not the only one? Are there other humans who procreate with them? Are they also studying hybrids and their traits?"

You laughed at her eagerness and walked over to the chair closest to you, sitting down on it. You waved your hand at Casey to do the same, as if you were hinting you were going to cooperate to answer her questions. The biologist glanced back over her shoulder at the reflective window where Sean and Will were watching the conversation. She sat down in the chair opposite of you and looked at you expectantly.

"Before I say another word, I want to see that my son is okay." You demanded, trying to suppress the tremor in your voice, the very first sign of weakness.

Casey turned back to the windows and waited for someone to come through the door. Instead, the reflective surfaces of the windows turned into screens showing one and the same image — the captured Predator, still tied to the table and asleep.

There was a whimper coming from behind her. When she turned back, she saw tears building up in your eyes and one hand pressed to your mouth. It was surreal to Casey for a human to have such an emotional reaction to an alien creature. On the other hand, this was his mother, unbelievable and absurd as it may seem.

You seemed to calm down, your eyes still fixed on the screen. You nodded to yourself before tearing your eyes away to look at Casey. The windows had returned to their normal state.

"We're going to start with some easy questions, okay?"

You nodded again.

"Great. First, I would like to know your name."

“(Y/N) (L/N).” You answered.

"Would it be okay if I call you (Y/N)?"

"I would appreciate it." You said, "It's a nice change from all the other names I've gotten so far."

"What do you mean?" Casey inquired.

"Alien fucker. Alien whore. Desperate little bitch who thought a man's dick isn't enough for her. Nothing I didn't expect from men." You shrugged, "It just proves once again that Yautja males treat their females with far more respect and honor than a human male could ever comprehend."

"Yautja?" Casey asked, leaning forward, arms crossed on the tabletop.

"You call them Predator, but their kind is actually called Yautja." You explained.

Casey nodded and started to play with her fingers, her next question burning on her tongue. "How did you get into this whole thing? How did you get in contact with them?"

You huffed. "It's quite ironic, you know. On the contrary what you may have expected, he saved me."

"Saved you from what?"

"Again, men. Four of them. They had followed me into an alley and tried to…" You had to pause for a second.

Almost 90 years ago, you had been afraid when Mi'ytiar had taken you from Earth to bring you to Yautja Prime. But looking back, that fear hadn't been as great as what you had felt at the thought of what those men would have done to you if he hadn't intervened.

"He protected me from those monsters… my own kind." You let out a humorless laugh. "Yautja take their prey as a trophy after each successful hunt, you know. Not only did he rip their heads off and their spines out, but he also took me. I expected him to hurt me, to keep me as a slave, or… or to do what these men wanted to do to me that day in that alley. I found out later that I was really lucky that he, of all other Yautja, rescued me. It's incredibly rare that one of them takes an interest in a human being. Usually, they kill every last of them. Humans are too weak and too soft, but that's exactly what he loves about me. That's why he kept me alive."

You let out a sigh, considering how much you should reveal about the Yautja culture.

"On the contrary to me, a Yautja female is rough and large, even larger than a male. After all, they are the ones who carry their offspring and ensure the survival of their kind. The males have to fight for dominance, and if the male wins, the female deems him worthy enough to mate and submits to him."

Casey shifted in her seat. "Did you… did he expect the same from you? Did he force you into submission to…?"

"Never." You growled protectively, "He never forced himself onto me. Never. He was more patient and understanding than all the human males I ever met in my life. He treated me like I was the most precious thing he had ever seen. Never did he touch me without my permission."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." Casey soothed you.

She had to be more careful and had to see this whole situation through your eyes — you were separated from your son and held at a facility that was examining you both while you had to worry about your unborn baby.

"Do you want to tell me about your relationship with him? Your, uhm…"

"He is my mate. My Life Mate."

"Life Mate?"

"Female Yautja can mate with multiple males and give birth to their children, but some also choose a permanent mate. You could compare it to one-night stands and marriage, only you can't divorce. It's not called Life Mate for nothing. You are bonded to each other for the rest of your life and they live for hundreds of years."

"Can I know the name of your Life Mate?"

You eyed Casey briefly, looked over her shoulder at the reflective windows, then at the camera in the corner, and then back at her. "His name is Mi'ytiar. He is the leader of his clan."

Casey sat up straight. "They live in clans? Like wolves in packs or horses in herds?"

You nodded. "With similar hierarchy dynamics, yes. There are many clans on their home planet, each living peacefully on their own. Sometimes clans visit each other, hunt together, celebrate together. That's how I found out that I'm not the only human on this planet." You said, "But apparently, I'm the only one who mated a clan leader. Most of them are expected to have a strong successor to take after them and Mi'ytiar, of all Yautja, ended up with a weak little human to bear his pups."

Jackpot, Casey thought.

She finally got to the part that intrigued her the most — how was it humanly possible that you got pregnant, how was it possible for you to carry the child of an alien, and how did it not kill you?

"Since Mi'ytiar has fully committed himself to me, it was up to me to bear his offspring. The Yautja of his clan never dared to say anything. I'm the clan leader's mate, after all. But I noticed it in the way they treated me and looked at me. They knew it wasn't possible for me to carry his children."

You looked down at your baby bump and returned to caress it. It seemed to keep you calm.

"At that point, that fact made me really upset. I got to know their culture and learned everything there was to know about them. I even started learning their language. I fulfill any task assigned to a clan leader's mate. I make my mate happy and proud. But I couldn't give him a child."

You looked up and into Casey's eyes.

"Mi'ytiar is very attentive and he soon noticed that something was upsetting me. Apparently, he was the only one who hadn't thought about his offspring at all." You paused for a second to smile, remembering his reaction when he found out that you wanted to carry his pups. "The second he knew he wanted to keep me around when he took me away from Earth, he injected me with his blood. No matter how many times I've been called fragile and puny, the human immune system can sometimes work wonders. His blood had slowed down my aging and allowed me to survive on his planet. So we visited a healer to finalize my life as his Life Mate."

Your cheeks flushed as you thought of how Mi'ytiar hadn't hesitated to drag you home and how you both had spent several days in your bed, or nest as he called it. There had been hardly a moment when he wasn't inside you. The image of his beautiful mate, his love, carrying his pup in her belly had made him feral.

It hadn't been long before his seed took. The other Yautja had a surprised but satisfied reaction when they saw that their leader was about to become a father. That's when they finally started to treat you like a part of the clan. You had fully proved yourself, proved you could provide for the clan. You were finally one of them.

Akail's birth was hard. It felt like he was tearing you apart from the inside out. But thanks to the injections of Mi'ytiar's blood and the additional help of the tribal healer, your body strengthened enough that you didn't die, even though it felt like it. You were crying and smiling with your mate at your side, holding your little bundle of joy in your arms.

He looked just like his father, no indication that his mother was human. However, his animalistic features were a little softer, difficult to recognize unless you were the mother. While you were being tended to, Mi'ytiar took his son in his arms to proudly introduce him to his clan.

Fondly, you thought back to one moment, a core memory — Mi'ytiar, lying on his side with you snuggled against him, both naked and partly covered in fur, and little Akail, just ten hours old, resting on your chest. At that point, you were so incredibly happy.

It sounded weird and absurd that this was your life and no human could ever understand, but you would never trade it for anything in the world.

"What's the catch?" Casey asked after a while of watching you quietly stroking your belly.

"Huh?" You looked up.

"I don't think you're telling us all this without an ulterior motive. So what's the catch?"

"I want to quench your thirst for scientific knowledge and in return, I hope you will release my son and me. There is no need to keep us here if you get all your answers from me."

Casey started to shift back and forth in her chair. "I don't think that will be possible. There are still things that we–"

"Listen, I have cooperated in the hope you will let me and my son go if you have what you want. You won't like what will happen if we are not soon to be freed."

Casey glanced over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time, unsure of what to do or what to say.

"I promised him to contact him every day, you know. My mate." You said, pride permeating your body. "And do you know what it will tell him? The silence?" Your question was obviously rhetorical. "It will tell him that something happened to me and, therefore, also to his son because Akail would rather die fighting for his mother and his father knows that."

Casey gulped. The threat was clear as the day.

"He will come and not alone. Do you really think you stand a chance against them?" You laughed, now more confident. "The human nature is arrogant, thinking they are superior to everyone. Eventually, that will be the reason for your extinction. Your haughty stupidity will be the death of you."

"(Y/N)–" Casey tried, but she was interrupted.

"No, you will listen to me just like you've been doing for the last twenty minutes now. I have lived among them for decades, almost a century. I learned from them, I'm one of them. Stand between a Yautja and their Life Mate and it will end deadly for you. Stand between a Yautja and their Life Mate who's pregnant and I promise you, you will beg for them to kill you."

"(Y/N), there is nothing in my power to help you. I was simply summoned here as an expert to examine this Yautja, your son. I can't–"

"You will. And I'm not just talking to you in this case." Your eyes wandered from her face to the windows and you nodded to the people you assumed to be standing behind the glass, watching you. "I'm talking to them, the ones who have the power. Set me and my son free and I promise you nothing will happen to any of you."

Suddenly, a blaring alarm sounded, startling both Casey and you. Instinctively, you wrapped an arm around your stomach in a protective manner.

"Code Red. Subject Predator is on the loose."

A shuddering sigh of relief left your lips as you slowly began to smile. You knew they couldn't keep Akail immobilized for long.

One of the things he had in common with his father was that he was just as protective over you as he was. He would come to look for you.

Casey had already jumped out of her chair and was talking frantically to the people on the other side of the one-sided window.

You began to talk to your pup again, "Your mei'hswei is coming, sweetling. Soon, the three of us will be back with Daddy."

continue with the second part He Is Here.

[mothybean]

Loud

An: this fanfic is rated R so minors DO NOT INTERACT! This is probably the most smuttiest fic I’ve written so hold on to your underwear lol.

Jinx GP! x FemReader

•••

I’ve had my eye on her for a while—the wild, blue-haired, braided bombshell. She was everywhere I looked: at every underground rave, EDM show, and concert I attended. She’d be there, flaunting her perfect body, girls, guys and everyone in between drooling over her figure. Yet, no matter how hard they tried, she never acknowledged them the way they did her. 

Her vibe screamed, ‘try all you want, but you’re going to get nowhere,’ and it was alluring. I’d be a big, fat liar if I said I wasn’t part of the drooling herd. I absolutely was. In fact, I was right at this moment.

I watched her from afar, her body gracefully moving to the music. The indoor venue’s LEDs and strobes accentuated her toned physique. My eyes couldn’t get enough of her. My favorite part of her was her midriff. 

I loved how her clothing always revealed her belly. The lack of fabric meant I could admire her sleeve of baby blue cloud tattoos that flowed from her right arm down the right side of her waist. There was something about girls with tattoos that drove me wild. Especially hers.

She danced with a group of girls dressed in revealing outfits, their petite hands trailing over her skin like starving animals. Watching their touch made my blood boil with envy—I wanted to be the one touching her, not them. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Chained by my own inability to be direct, I hid within the crowd, silently watching as these women got their fill of the tatted beaut.

I turned to my friends to say something, but from the looks of it, they were no longer on planet Earth. Their eyes were glazed over, fixated on the flashing lights like moths to a flame. I waved my hand in front of them, but they were too far gone, as if in a trance, the music dictating their movements like slaves. Safe to say, the Molly they had taken beforehand was doing its job. I sigh through my nostrils.

Looking away from my zombie-like companions, I glance back at my crush. As expected, she was still dancing, the sweat on her exposed skin glistening under the ever changing rainbow LEDs. I felt feral. I wanted to march right up to her and pull her into a deep, passionate kiss, telling her how much I liked her. I shook my head at the imaginary scenario, realizing how cringey I was being. She would probably smack me if I did that. Hell, I would too if some rando professed their love to me while I was busy minding my own business.

Going for another sip of my drink, my lips were met with ice cubes and a bit of watered down remains. I groan with frustration. I needed more liquid courage. 

I yelled over the music to my friends—who I doubt even understood English at this point—and made my way to the bar. I waved at the man behind the bar, flashing him my neon orange wristband. The shirtless buff bartender nodded and leaned over the counter to hear my request.

“Give me the strongest shit you got!” I yelled, my voice fighting against the heavy bass that pounded through the speakers. He nodded and stepped away to work on my order.

While I waited, I leaned my forearms against the cool counter, my skin sticking to the black marble surface beneath. I scrunch my face, horrified with the uncomfortable sensation. I quickly pull away, subconsciously rubbing my arms, trying to get rid of the sweat that lingered.

“Ick.”

I hated being sweaty. It made me feel unclean and uncomfortable, but I didn’t have a choice. I’d been dancing for hours next to other sweaty bodies in a poorly air-conditioned building. What was I expecting? As much as I hated the sweat, my love for EDM outweighed it. At least I wasn’t as drenched as my friends. The happy little white pill certainly turned them into a waterfall, their clothes visibly soaked with sweat. I enjoyed Molly, but decided against it tonight. As much as I wanted to drip with ecstasy, I didn’t want to become a gross puddle of nastiness.

“Bad night?” A raspy voice asked from my right.

The sudden question caught me off guard. I turn to the voice’s owner and my stomach immediately does a quadruple front flip. It was her. My electric blue crush, in the sweaty flesh. She was standing next to me… talking to me. Holy fuck.

“O-oh, uh, n-not at all! It’s just hot in here…” I stammered, forgetting almost every English word I knew as I tried to respond to the blue-haired beauty. She smirked, her gaze dangerous as she locked eyes with mine. My pussy did a backflip.

“Yeah…it’s pretty hot in here.” Her eyes slightly eyeing me up and down.

My body became a confusing temperature of hot and cold, both temperatures fighting to become the more prominent degree. Was she flirting with me? I felt my breath hitch.

The bartender snapped me out of my racing thoughts as he placed my drink in front of me. My eyes dropped to the clear cylindrical glass, watching the ice cubes float around the interesting colored liquid. It almost looked like gasoline with how yellow and viscous it looked.

“Whatcha got there?” She asked, peering into my cup.

I shrugged and picked up the glass, bringing it to my lips. Whatever it was, it was strong. The alcohol practically singed my nose hairs when I sniffed it. It had to be at least 100% proof.

“I’m not sure, I just asked for somethin’ strong.”

Her smirk became wider as she moved closer to me, her fingers wrapping around a fresh shot of vodka. She was so close. She smelled  like a mixture of something oriental and musky. I liked it.  I gulped as I watched her delicate fingers lift the shot glass.

“Somethin’ strong, huh?” Without a hint of hesitation, she swiftly knocked the shot back and slammed the empty glass on the counter. She smirked and leaned forward, her lips brushing against my ear. She gave a soft hum before she asked, “Wanna dance?”

I blinked a few times, processing her question, trying hard to not pass out from excitement that was surging through my nervous system. 

Holy fuck. Was I dreaming? 

I threw the mystery alcohol back, the substance practically burning a layer of skin off my esophagus as it slid down. I didn’t care, I was too enamored with what was about to come. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and nodded vigorously. The next thing I knew, her hand was firmly around mine, dragging me into the sea of people.

The drink I downed had an immediate effect. My vision blurred slightly, like someone with astigmatism, yet everything around me remained clear enough to process. My body felt loose and comfortably warm. Every single fear and anxiety I had was completely obliterated by this strange liquid. Whatever it was…I felt amazing.

My eyes were glued to hers as the music controlled us, our bodies pressed together, moving in unison. I was on cloud nine. The way she moved, the closeness, the ambiance, the alcohol… I was elated. Her gaze made it feel like we were the only ones in the room, the music slowly echoing as if I were underwater. As she danced with me, her hands on my hips, a wave of desire washed over me—I was undeniably horny.

The alcohol took over my body, yelling at me to touch her. Without a nanosecond of debate, I obeyed, my hands finding their way to the small of her back, pulling her close. I was much smaller than her, but with how petite her frame was, I momentarily forgot just how tall she was. I looked up at her, her eyes already staring down on me. I watched her eyes flicker through a few emotions—amusement, hunger, temptation. She confirmed my educated guess by sliding her hands down to my ass, pulling me even closer to her.

The fast paced beat of the music matched my heart beat, my love muscle thumping against my rib cage. I wanted her. I wanted to kiss those beautiful, soft, pink puffy lips.

So I did. 

My thoughts were no longer coherent; they mimicked a ritualistic chant begging me to seize the moment and just go for it. I bravely removed my hands from her waist and grabbed her face, pulling her to meet mine. Electricity spilled from my lips the moment hers met mine, my body following suit. She hesitated, but just for a moment before she returned my kiss with equal, if not more intensity. 

With my courage running low, I pulled away, my hands still cupping her face. I bit my lip, analyzing her expression. Her eyes were wide with surprise, her hands still firmly on my waist. I was about to pull away and profusely apologize, but the moment I opened my mouth, she crashed her lips into mine once again. I immediately melted into her kiss, my arms wrapping around her neck. Our second kiss turned into a heated make out session, our hands roaming every inch of skin we could find. 

I was soaked.

She broke the kiss this time, her hands on my ass. She rested her forehead against mine and flashed a mischievous grin.

“Wanna go somewhere…private?”

My pussy throbbed.

“Yes, please”

The moment the words escaped my mouth, she forcefully dragged me away from the crowd and down a dimly lit hallway. I had no clue where we were going, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was how hot she was. I was still extremely shocked with how the night was playing out. I was starting to appreciate my immense disgust for sweat. If I never made that face at the bar, she probably wouldn’t have talked to me.

She led us to a gray metal door, a red neon exit sign flickering above it. Outside? She wanted to mess around outside? As unsure as I was about her location of choice, I don’t object, allowing her to lead us through the door.

We stepped out of the building into a narrow secluded alleyway, the only source of light was from a nearby street lamp. It looked clean, no garbage insight except a few stray cigarette butts and gold condom wrappers. The air was warm, a perfect temperature. I took a deep breath in as she led us deeper into the alley, appreciating the fresh oxygen entering my lungs.

“Shit, it’s so nice out here.” I gasp, enjoying the sudden breeze against my skin.

She grinned, softly pushing me against the brick wall to the right of us, out of view of the street and side door we exited from. I breathed heavily as she pinned my arms against the hard surface.

“You’re so hot…” I mutter, my eyes hooded with desire.

She pressed her crotch against mine, her smile dropping a bit, a more stoic expression taking over.

“Oh yeah?” She said, her voice husky. As she pressed her hips harder against mine, my eyes widened. At first, I thought it was a phone in her pocket…but now…

“U-um…can I ask—” she cut me off with a small snort, pressing even harder against me.

“My name?”

I blinked a few times before it occurred to me. I didn’t even know her name. I nod slowly.

“Jinx.” She smiled. “Yours?”

“Y/n…b-but I don’t wanna be so forward but what—”

“My dick?”

Her bluntness caught me off guard, my mouth agape. H-her dick?

“Shocking, huh,” Jinx laughed, pulling her body away slightly. “I was born with both parts…go figure.” She stayed silent for a second. “Does that bother you?”

My pupils dilated from her confession and her size that pushed against my covered pussy. For some reason, I was more turned on than before.

“N-no! Not at all. I’m shocked, but I’m not disappointed in the slightest.” I say, barely above a whisper, my hands clutching her hips, pulling her closer.

Her pupils mimicked mine. She placed her lips to my ear, her breath hot against my ear’s shell.

“Good. Because I wanna fuck you.” She growled.

I crushed my lips hungrily against hers, my hands exploring her body once again. With this new piece of information, I was desperate to see what it looked like. Considering her having a legitimate sized bulge, it must be huge. I felt my mouth water at the thought. As our tongues engaged in a feverish battle, my hands roamed to her lower half, brushing against her bulge. I needed to know.

Her hips buckled softly as I slid my hand down the front of her black skinny jeans. She was hard as a rock from what I could feel. With how skinny her jeans were, I could only imagine how she managed to stuff herself in such tight clothing. It must hurt if she’s that endowed. My hands fumbled with her pants button, followed by the zipper. She gave a sigh of relief in my mouth as I released the pressure her member was causing.

My heart sped up as I gently pulled her pants down, her gray box briefs still on. With her member no longer suppressed by her jeans, my hand could fully feel what she was packing. I glanced down briefly, viewing the large imprint against her briefs. Jinx peeked an eye open and smiled smugly. 

“Like what you see?” 

Instead of responding verbally, I place my hand through the opening of her underwear and pull out her cock. She let out a soft moan before shoving her tongue back into my mouth. Her dick was massive. I could barely wrap my whole hand around it, but I tried regardless. I moved my hand up and down her length, earning me a low guttural moan each time I slid my hand back down.

“F-fuck…” Her hips bucked into my hand as I jerked her off. I felt my pussy throb as I continued to move my hand against her. I wanted her to fuck me right then and there. She was so…alluring. Each kiss we shared had me immediately wanting more. Speaking of more…

I let go of her member and pulled away from her. She looked like a lost puppy the moment I did.

“W-why’d you stop?” She groaned, her hand dropping to her shaft, gripping it softly. 

I smiled seductively and bit my lip before I dropped to my knees, the tip of her cock was eye to eye with my mouth. Before she could say anything further, I placed my lips around her tip, grazing her slit with the tip of my tongue.

“O-oh shit…that’s fucking nice.” She moaned, throwing her head backwards. I giggled into her cock, bobbing my head slowly. 

I was insanely turned on. How lucky was I? A beautiful girl with such a massive surprise. Could this night get any better?

Jinx placed her palms against the brick wall in front of her, moaning softly as I continued to suck her off, my tongue dragging down her length to her base. I could feel my underwear dripping at this point. The sensation was uncomfortable, but I kept going, her cock practically halfway down my throat. I gagged, unable to keep her in my mouth long and pulled back to catch my breath. How could such a petite girl have this big of a dick? I placed my hands against her thighs and tried to engulf her once more. 

Eventually, after a few more minutes of me battling her size, Jinx pulls her cock out of my mouth. I pulled away as well, watching her member twitch slightly, begging for release. 

Why did she…? 

I look up at her with confused eyes. She stared down at me, a primal expression plastered on her face. She licked her lips before pulling me to my feet, forcefully shoving my torso against the wall. I grunt at the sudden harsh impact.

“Fuck…” I whimper, my palms against the rustic brick.

My swear word earned me a hard slap on the ass, a mixture of pain and pleasure reverberating throughout my body. I whimper again. As I was pressed against the wall, I felt Jinx position herself behind me, shoving her cock between my clothed thighs. I moaned as her length grazed my clit. The way she felt against me drove me insane. I wanted it and I wanted it now.

“Oh Jinx…” I gasped as she continued to thigh fuck me.

She moaned quietly, pulling her body away from mine.

“Pull your pants down.” She demanded, her voice dangerous.

She didn’t have to ask me twice. My fingers hooked under the hem of my leggings, pulling the black fabric downwards, revealing my matching color thong. Jinx’s breath hitched.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” She growled, smacking my bare ass cheek again. The sound of her palm connecting with my ass echoed within the alley way. Thank god the music in the building was blasting. I had a feeling that it was about to get loud.

Jinx once again slid her dick in between my legs, using thighs as friction. With less fabric separating us, I felt the skin of her shaft against the top of my pussy. It was soft and warm…I wanted…no—needed more of it. 

I slowly swayed my ass side to side, enticing her to remove my underwear. It enticed her alright. Jinx grunted and pulled my thong to the side. Without warning, she pushed the tip of her cock into my tight hole.

“A-ah!” I whimpered, my hand holding onto my ass as she entered me. “Fuck…”

Jinx let out a long breath moan as she slowly backed in and out of me.

“Y-you’re so tight…”

I couldn’t respond. Her length and thickness was absolutely wrecking my hole. Each time she thrusted, I felt my pussy stretch, struggling with her blessed genetics. She was a lot bigger than what my hand and eyes speculated. I certainly wasn’t disappointed, but it did hurt.

“Mmm…” I moaned happily, my pussy finally adjusting to her size. She was at least 7 inches, her girth comparable to a soda can. Okay, maybe a little less than that, but damn was she close.

Jinx’s hips picked up the pace, her member sliding in and out of me with ease. She felt so good. My pussy was just dripping from the sounds we were making. Her breathy moans, the wetness of my pussy, the rhythmic sounds of our skin slapping together…it made my head spin. She could fuck me all day if she wanted to.

The knot in my core was increasing, I felt myself close to the edge. My whole body was tingling, my pussy aching for release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I almost screamed, her cock slamming into me with motive.

“You like that baby?” She taunted, her balls smacking into my cunt as she thrusted faster.

My mind went blank, my eyes rolled back. I didn’t know how much more I could take. Her dick was like fucking morphine with how good it felt. Everytime she smashed into me, I wanted to cry, the amount of pleasure was unbearable. Suddenly, my body gave me the warning—I was about to cum. And hard.

“J-jinx… I-I’m gonna…” Was all I could manage to say before my eyes rolled backwards, my body shaking violently as I came onto her throbbing cock. The sound of me climaxing seemed to push Jinx to her edge as well.

“Oh shiiit…” Jinx groaned loudly, her hips desperate for friction, pumped a bit faster before she started to slow down, her fingernails digging into my asscheeks.

Jinx moved in and out of me a few more times before she pulled herself out. The moment she removed her cock, I felt her thick load drip out of my pussy and onto my left thigh.

I shakily turned around to face her, my body dripping with sweat as I panted heavily. She smiled, wiping the sweat from her forehead and stepped towards me, her hands resting on my hips.

“Well, Y/n…I know this is a bit backwards,” she panted, gripping my hips a bit tighter. “But would you like to…I don’t know…go out sometime? Grab some dinner?” 

I poked the inside of my cheek with my tongue. To answer my earlier question, yes… the night absolutely could get better. I bit my lip, suppressing my eagerness.

“I’d like that a lot,” I smirked, snaking my arms around her neck and placed a small kiss on her lips. “I’m free tomorrow if that works for you?” I rested my head against the brick wall.

She nodded, flashing me her infamous smile.

“Sounds good to me…” 

A comfortable silence filled the night air, our bodies still hot and sweaty. Jinx cleared her throat and looked down. Curiously, I followed her gaze and raised my eyebrow at the sight.

“Round 2?” She smirked, pressing herself against me. I was impressed. She certainly had the stamina.

At that moment, sweat no longer seemed to bother me. In fact, I wouldn’t mind being covered in it if it meant she was the cause.

“I thought you’d never ask…”

[bmbidoll]

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫

soloist!baekhyun x f!reader

synopsis: baekhyun had his four year girlfriend break up with him, which left him without a true sense of direction. he'd only find it when another woman led the way, he just didn't know it was straight to hell.

content: 4,8k words, smut with a sprinkle of fluff, angst, and a little horror. but basically pwp. based on this moodboard.

author's notes: helloooo! this is my first fanfic posted on tumblr, I do hope you enjoy it!! the only thing I'll request is patience since I'm a fairly new writer ♡

041724 update: thank you so much for your love on this fic and on SPORTSCAR !! i have posted another one based on military!baekhyun, check it out! thinkin bout you ♡

most if not all of my content will be gravitated towards mature audiences, so minors are a no no! please have an age indicator when you interact!! thank you, and enjoy your reading!!!

warnings: dom and sub undertones leaning (barely) towards femdom, hooking up, marking, power play, mutual pining, oral sex m!receiving, cumplay, hair pulling, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, pet names, slight degradation, creampie, oral fixation, brief mention of violence.

baekhyun, at thirty years old, was used to being in control — except for when he wasn't.

his 4 year girlfriend and future bride left him and his sense of control momentarily shattered, breaking up with him after weeks of continuous misunderstandings, lashing out in a final ultimatum of separation, destroying his engagement plans. still, he was above feelings when his career was at play, and although being in events on his own made him feel out of place, he needed to distract himself.

at least he thought he could.

the party in itself was a blur, and baekhyun couldn't even bother to decipher what sizzling drink was in his hand when he traded pleasantries with random people. meaningless exchanges in his view. it did mostly nothing to sooth his emotional numbness, making him stand in a corner with an anxious frown, not even his new hairstyle did much to make him feel better. he'd much rather mope at home or in a presence of a friend who actually gave a shit about him. that's when baekhyun felt your gaze.

it was like thermal shock, an extreme shiver that made his whole body alert and his hair stand. a gnawing feeling that caught to his heart like a deer in headlights, which made him look around in discreet fright, looking for what, or more so who, was watching him. it felt supernatural, like he could feel an invisible target being put on his back. his pulse rose and his stomach felt bothered in a grip of anxiousness, yet it was even more unexplainable when he found the source.

it couldn't be you, his mind didn't accept it. how could someone with such soft features and bright eyes be the owner of a gaze akin to danger? when you smiled, talking to someone next to you, he thought it was just his mind tricking him, that such feeling couldn't come from you.

but when your eyes found his again, his pupils dilated at the force of your dark dominance. you finally stood, drink in hand, as you looked away in a playful, almost mocking grin when baekhyun took your frame in. you were tall, ever more so in your louboutins. your draped, off the shoulder dress did much too little to cover your long legs, almost like a bodysuit. your arms were surrounded by viscose panels that went as long as over your thighs, and baekhyun almost couldn't quite catch you leaving the main area, too focused on your curves before you crossed a pillar.

he meakly cleared his throat, standing straight from the corner he was leaning, in order to shy away from attention, to go after you. baekhyun didn't know the reason, but for all he cared, he didn't need one. too sick of this party from the moment he arrived. he wanted something — anything, really, to take his bothered mind away from her. away from his mistakes, from what he mistook his ex partener to be. yet it was obvious you weren't anything like her, and maybe it was just what he needed.

he followed you discreetly, going through the endless hallways and stairways of the luxurious venue with his eyes focused on your shadow in the red lights. it made the darkness feel almost demonic, in a way, like you were taking him to hell. something that baekhyun, at this point, wouldn't even mind.

until you weren't ahead of him anymore, disappearing from his sight. he cursed for his lack of awareness, before a dark, womanly voice appeared from behind him.

"are you looking for something, baekhyun?" the voice spoke, laced with wickedness.

his jaw clenched and his eyes widened as he turned around to face you with shocked irritation.

"what the fuck... where did you—" you didn't let him finish, "you were following me." you said, smirking knowingly, tilting your head in an almost condescending look.

one could already see a glint of defensiveness displayed on baekhyun's dark eyes. "you were staring at me." he spoke lowly, feigning angerness to mask his rapid heart that was much too frightened over your presence for his liking. "what do you want...?" he added, fighting for composure.

even the mere sound of your voice could make his hands get clammy in anticipation. it scared him.

you could only hold your grin. "I don't think it's me who wants anything..." your eyes darting in assessment of his black suit. "at least, not that much to follow you around like a stalker."

the singer only bristled, not entirely buying your excuse, wary as much as he was attracted to your womanliness. and, to his irritation, you didn't stand on the same spot for too long, walking away slowly around the halls.  he picked up his steps to walk beside you with a dry swallow, his eyes shooting daggers as much as they felt intrigued.

"who are you and what do you want with me?" he bristled, demanding in something one could sense as eagerness, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"I'm not looking for trouble, byun baekhyun." you said, almost making him lose his composure again at the usage of his full name. he gulped, trying not to stare at her as they crossed past the venue's hotel rooms, vacant in expense of the important events. "but you must be looking for something, I saw the way you stared at me." his voice was accusing, almost cocky in a way that served as bait.

"and how did I stare at you, stalker?" you finally faced him beside you, quite sick of his questions.

"I'm not a stalk—" he huffed as you interrupted him to push him to a wall.

baekhyun widened his eyes at realization of your position, and he had to admit, it was a first. not only because of your roughness, but also because of the power play, where he usually had the upper hand. he had to swallow in order to not appear fazed, although your supernatural attractiveness made it difficult to not subdue.

"what do you want, baekhyun?" you said, highlighting the 'you' with the raise of your chin as you crossed his personal space slowly, your gaze fervently acknowledging his, whom didn't know where to stare back, jumping between your eyes and your red lips. one of your hands stayed on his firm chest as the other stayed beside his hip, your wrist in close contact to his side.

"fuck— I..." he stuttered, clearly not used to being in this spot, making you smile again.

"you're so cute when you stutter." you said lowly. "let's change the question, shall we? Is there anything I can do for you?"

baekhyun clenched his jaw as he shut his eyes, the image that you painted on the impulsive side of his mind quite clear on his lids, while his rational side thought of his recent heartache. "I don't know... I don't really know anything about you." he said, worrying about where he got himself into. he wasn't one for impulsive decisions, and he was quite proud of it. it's just that with the tugging feeling on his chest, he felt even more torn.

"you don't have to. it's clear you don't really want to get to know anyone right now."  you replied, as if reading his mind.

and you were right. there wasn't anything clear on his mind about his life after his failed relationship. his only certainties laid on his work, and his eyebags showed he could use something different. someone different.

"I-I don't think I should—" baekhyun was shushed before he could finish, feeling his guard completely mush while you cooed and whispered 'its okay's, leaning closer to his face. his eyes finally opened again, turning droopy and his eyebrows raised gently, like a puppy.

you grabbed his hand and slowly motioned it to your face, his mole trembling with his lips that quivered in an obvious encantation. "see? I'm real..." you whispered knowingly as his unfocused dark eyes rushed through your supernatural face, pleading. "and I could give you something to sooth your body." your cheek was incredibly warm against his usually cold hands, making him flutter his lids with darker pupils. as his resolve was completely crumpled like humid paper.

"can I have you...?" baekhyun whispered, almost unsure of his wish and of how much power he actually had in this quiet altercation of control.

"the question, baekhyun," you started, your voice smooth and clear as his appearance made you curl your lips slightly. "is whether or not I want to have you."

"and do you?" he asked instantly, almost blushing in his eagerness as he frowned in confusion, pouting. one could almost fall for his innocent face, but something in you knew better, already expecting his switch as he cleared his throat. his eyes turned into a more controlled version of his drive as he darkened his tone with ease.

capturing your waist with a firm grip, he whispered in your ear with his known velvet voice, "I will make you want me, angel."  but you were no angel. not at all. and baekhyun probably knew that when he smelled your perfume, sending shivers through your body as he breathed onto your neck. "fuck, you smell like dessert."

you could only exhale, biting your own lip to contain the curl of your smirk as you felt his lust emanating from him. just from his presence alone. with calculated composure, you removed his hand from your waist to sway back into the crimson darkness, opening one of the unused bedrooms of the expensive hotel that was used as a venue, sneaking under his gaze.

baekhyun had to gulp to not simply barge in and press you against the door, knowing it wouldn't work quite like that with a woman like you. his expensive saint laurent dress shoes clicked as he walked into your planned out trap, one he was glad to be caught.

you pushed your hand through his curly, black strands from his perm as he stood in front of you. "i want you..." he whispered, closing his eyes again in goosebumps of your long nails grazing his scalp. gently walking him backward to the bed, you made him sit, his legs spreading to receive your presence between them with ease. your hands controlling his head as it tilted against your control.

"strip for me." you commanded, making him open his darkened eyes in surprise.

"what...?" baekhyun smiled nervously, sensing no kidding from you when he looked up to your unamused expression. "that's not how this... usually works, angel..."

you could only scoff at the nickname, almost rolling your eyes in amusement before resuming your imposing stare. "and am I your usual?"

that seemed to shut him up for a second, his eyes turning shy as he gulped, already expressing his answer.

"here's how this is going to work, byun baekhyun." your voice said as your hand traversed through his hair, lowering to his cheek. "if you want me, you're going to have to play by my rules. otherwise, I can simply walk out of this room and pretend I haven't even met you. and trust me," you leaned to his ear, "I can do a damn good job at finding someone who will play by my rules and be grateful to do it." punctuating your whispered with a lick behind the cartilage.

baekhyun only sighed, able to catch a glimpse of the roundness of your ass as you were leaning forward, which made his urge to assert control dim, too desperate in his lust to refuse such deal. in all honesty, he hasn't gotten any action for a whole month since his relationship soured.

"so I'll only say this one more time, baekhyun. strip for me." you commanded, standing straight once again to see him display a silent nod, removing his expensive suit jacket to reveal his panelled tank top that followed suit, his slim abdomen clenching at the cold air.

you didn't give him much time to think about his pants, kissing him for the first time that night in a mix of patience and softness. it made him push his head upward in demand, flicking his tongue against your closed, plush lips. baekhyun was briefly shushed, whining beautifully as you pulled his hair from his nape. "be patient, I want you to remember everything I give you tonight." your voice said as you lowered your body between his legs, meeting his needy looks with a small grin.

he breathed ragged, quiet gasps in a disheveled manner, as if trying not to assert his way too soon. "you're taking your sweet ass time... I don't have that."

"make time. you already look desperate for this, when I haven't even kissed you properly, dog." you said, imposing again, making him widen his eyes when you tugged his matching black pants with roughness and didn't even bother to glance at the small damp spot on his briefs, immediately using your palm to coax grunts and curses from him. "what is it, hm? you like being called a dog?" your smooth voice teased with a hint of a grin, as your fingers enclosed on his clothed, girthy, angry length that was close to peek around the waistband of his boxers, that aren't able to cover its size in its full hardness.

you want to stare and admire all the veins that coursed through it, feeling your own heat act up from how much you could get enamored to such a perfect manhood, but you wouldn't give him the pleasure of knowing these thoughts. he whined again when you squeezed the tip, coaxing more precome to stain the fabric of his boxers.

"is this for me, baekhyunie?" you teased, biting off your grin as you looked up to his face to see him huffing, his hips thrusting onto your hand for even the slightest friction. due to not getting a response, you squeezed harder, making him tremble in a grunt. "I'm talking to you, dog. I expect responses."

baekhyun whined, "fuck— yes! that's all for you, angel! god— please! just touch me more!" he panted, making you sizzle in satisfaction as you pressed your thighs together.

standing up to lean forward, you kept your hand on his already throbbing bulge. "you're such a good boy for me. can you raise your hips for me? let's free your cock, shall we?" you smiled devilishly as you stared at his unfocused expression of lip bites and moans.

baekhyun promptly obliged, gasping as his aching need sprung and hit his stomach. you could feel saliva pooling under your tongue from just how sinful his everything was. the tip was red and slightly darker than the rest of his length, covered in precome that oozed easily at each of its pulse, dripping with a slight curve to the left.

your hand was quick to work him with awe, your thumb meeting your middle finger in its base before moving up and finding its slit, smearing it slowly all over your palm. he couldn't really keep quiet, thrusting upwards, making a mess of both himself and your hand. so your left one found his throat and slightly choked him to stop his erratic movements, earning another set of his wide eyes, as he stuck his tongue out to breathe properly around your grip on both his neck, and cock. "what the fuck— angel, please!" baekhyun murmured, strained.

you only extended your smeared palm to his face with calm eyes, even if your aching center was anything but calm. he seemed to catch on your wish, and although he wanted to argue and retain dignity, he already had his tongue lapping onto your right hand, attempting to clean the mess he did. it was something unusual for him. everything about this was, actually. he swallowed his own precome, feeling exhilarated from how much he actually enjoyed it. so you rewarded him with your weight on his lap, therefore he could watch you suck your own thumb to taste him, and then crash both your lips together in a messy, arguably desperate, tongue kiss.

your clothed center found his bare one as you kissed, making him tug the sides of your dress up. he wanted you naked and around him as soon as humanly possible, but you couldn't just give him what you both wanted, even if you also wanted it badly.

you pushed him to the bed, making his back hit the mattress with an audible puff from his lungs, attacking him with wet kisses that started on his neck. he didn't know where to put his hands, and his putty brain didn't even have the composure to reject your open marks around his adam's apple, moaning softly at your full-on bites.

he loved the roughness. the attention just enough to make him squirm as it trailed down towards his pale collarbone, his nipple, his soft abdomen, and finally, his inner thigh. you grabbed his wrists and held them together in one hand, forcefully holding him, so that you maintained control even when your mouth found the head of his cock, making him moan louder. "fuck! what the fuck!? angel?!" he panted, physically trembling when you sucked his seeping from the tip.

you took your time, looking up to his face before withdrawing your mouth to speak. "listen here. no hands on my head, no thrusting upwards, and eyes on me. do you understand, dog?"

"yes, yes ma'am— holy—" baekhyun gasped in interruption as your flattened tongue enveloped the underside of him, making him sputter gibberish as you slowly took his cock, inch by inch. you'd comment on the name he used, but chose to allow it.

you had to close your eyes for a brief moment, even if you didn't want to, to just feel how much baekhyun filled your mouth and how much you actually enjoyed it. it almost hit the back of your throat, slightly straining your jaw. your closed eyes opened to his, almost pained, lustful, fucked out expression. his lips were red and swollen from his biting. his whole face was flushed, his temples had droplets of sweat and his perm hair was all over the place.

if you didn't already want to suck him off just for your own pleasure, you certainly wanted it for his, already starting in a somewhat quick pace to ease both of your flaming desperateness with quick bobs, fighting the reflex to gag as you relished in the feeling and breathed through your nose.

baekhyun, on the other end, fought the urge to roll his eyes, finally receiving too much stimulation that was already denied. frying his thoughts that could only sputter 'angel', like a prayer. but the battle was lost when your nails scratched his abs, making him ready to coum. "fuck! I'll c-come! I'll come in your—" you withdrew suddenly, essentially denying his high, making him almost cry. you could only smile breathlessly as you stood up, your hands working on the zipper of your dress.

"I'm sorry, puppy... I'm so sorry. you were so good... I'll make it better, hm?" you said after dropping both your dress and panties, straddling his messed up self.

"I really—" baekhyun panted soft whines, "wanna... cuss the shit out of you... right now." making you chuckle in adoration.

"i'll reward you, okay?" you put his hands on your rear, where he squeezed roughly. "have it your way, hm?" you murmured, making him essentially grunt.

"are you sure...?" baekhyun breathlessly asked, reeling from the edge. you smiled, wanting to take care of him.

"yes, touch me," you said, guiding his hand to your already slick folds, his eyes unfocused as he started feeling the warmth you radiated. it took mere milliseconds for baekhyun to find your clit, his thumb feeling the way it swelled in anticipation, making you moan.

"fuck... you're drenched..." he murmured, rubbing your center in a tantalizing manner. "do you enjoy treating me like your plaything? did it make you this wet for me?"

"shut up and touch me already!" you whined, slightly flush, receiving two digits all at once as he chuckled. "so feisty, angel..."

it was hard not to clench all over his long fingers that searched desperately for your spot, your body already moving along his wrist, moaning as he curled them inside of you. baekhyun grunted at the tight grip you held on him, biting his lower lip to contain his wish to just mess you up. "so damn tight... I can't wait to feel you..."

it was like that for a few minutes before you decided you had enough, not wanting to come before you felt his full length inside of you. you positioned on top of him, making him shudder as you sucked on his fingers diligently, making him moan.

"fuck, angel..." baekhyun breathed when you grabbed him, finally sinking onto his thick, large cock, biting your lip to conceal your moans as both of you saw stars. him, from the orgasm denial. and you, from your own self torture.

"oh god— I won't last even a minute with your tightness, holy shit!" he hissed as each last bit of him settled within your walls, knocking down your composure as you hummed deliciously.

"you can move now... please..." you murmured, your eyes closed at the mere feeling of him completely inside.

"ah, so now it's 'please'?" baekhyun glared at your face being close to his before snapping his hips in a manner that hit you deeply, making you both groan.

"don't fucking... push it." you grunted, opening your eyes to match his lust. your body enveloped with his as you straddled him, already meeting his forceful thrusts.

"you're the one—" he plunged upwards, "who said... I earned it... so I'll fucking take it." baekhyun bristled, moving in a deep, slow manner.

you could almost smile blissfully at the overwhelmingly full manner he filled you, almost as if you should be the one to beg for it, the one who's lucky to have it. your hips swayed along his pace, somewhat circling his long, pulsating length. "do you like this, angel? fuck— you take it so well, princess." baekhyun breathes through grunts as his blunt nails graze your hips. "like you were made to take my cock."

"god, shut the fuck up." you growled, choking him, which somehow made him throb even more, his eyes rolling to the back at each movement, his breathing cut as he muttered.

"g-gonna—" baekhyun strained breathlessly, "come—" completely within your mercy as you moved towards his ear. "come for me, puppy."

it was in an instant, his seed shooting deep inside you, which made you release his neck in pure pleasure, moaning. you could swear you'd come just from being filled up by him, as if his own ecstasy filled you with elation.

baekhyun panted, still thrusting "ah, fuck... you're so good... too good... I usually last longer." it made you giggle slightly.

"are you tired? do you need a break?" you whispered close to his face, staring at the way he recomposed with you, but yelped as he suddenly rolled you both, still inside.

"are you fucking kidding? no way." baekhyun snapped his hips once, making his come drip on your thighs from the abbrasiveness of his still hard length within, stealing a whimper from you. "you're gonna take me till you pass out, angel."

you could barely take in on his words when you felt a subtle touch on your pussy, focusing your eyes to find his index between your faces, coated in a filthy mix of both of your milky juices. your vision turned dizzy when he licked it without hesitation, letting it sit on his tongue that was right above your mouth.

the message was clear, and you opened it to let it drip onto your tongue before you lip locked again, baekhyun resuming sharp thrusts on your loud cunt.

it felt utterly animalistic, and you could tell from his behavior that it'd been a while for him, not that baekhyun did anything to hide it when he murmured praises that swindled your ego. "feels so fucking good, angel...!" he snapped his hips in an erratic pace, "how the fuck... are you so... fucking tight and warm...?" and you could only reply with "yeah...?" to which he'd always respond readily along with a nod. you'd gently cradle his chin, but he didn't care if you marked it with your nails to keep your anchor as he'd push your right thigh to your chest, holding your leg on his shoulder with quick developed ownership.

it took another orgasm from the both of you to make him more gentle, even if it didn't truly exhaust him. both sat up to meet each other in an intimate embrace. the stickiness barely made you uncomfortable when he fit so nicely against you, his hands kneading your soft breasts with patience, now that the fire settled into a more tranquil warmth of your presence on his broken heart.

"I don't usually do this..." baekhyun murmurs amidst his gentle pace, his eyes focused on your pleased ones that blinked slowly.

"do what...?" you whispered back, trying to stay grounded from the bliss of your connection.

"hook ups... I don't really hook up with strangers... not at this age, at least..." he chuckled shyly, and it struck you harder than you'd expect.

"I don't, either." you said, surprisingly shy from your own admission, which ceased his soft thrusts for a second.

"can I take you out...? get to know you, angel?" baekhyun cradled your cheek, his thumb on your lip in a manner that didn't feel just erotic.

"baekhyun..." you'd start, only to be interrupted by a soft peck that resumed deliciously slow movements. you were someone that baekhyun could see himself growing fond of. and if you didn't know better, you could say he was growing on you, too. the kiss grew in intensity soon enough, getting to an already familiar manner in such quick velocity, both now aware of what the other liked.

your rationality would be ruined soon enough before your own fire took hold, pushing him to his back as you started to ride him slowly, his hands settling on each of your curves, the right pinching your perked nipple as the other ramped your supple rear up and down with sweet praises. "you're so fucking perfect... I've never had anyone quite like you..."

you could only moan as baekhyun flicked his skilled fingers onto your swollen bundle. "wanna make you come again... can you do this for me, angel? before I come inside of you again?" it's as if his words could take control of you, just like you did earlier to him, the coiling of your lower stomach tightening by each bounce on his girth that throbbed viciously.

baekhyun would thrust his hips upwards, but not as fiercely as before to not sore you much more, his delicateness sure to overcome all the sting of overexertion. you'd feel yourself melting when the pinch of his digits on your clit made you snap, your silent scream echoing in shallow breathing as he pumped his come within your walls for the third time that night, kissing your lips with a care you certainly didn't expect from a hook up.

you both chuckled at the way you fell on top of him, finally feeling him soften inside you amongst the large amount of release that dripped, probably staining the sheets. baekhyun pulled you to your side as he pecked your face, pushed his come back inside with his index, then shared the mess on both of your mouths.

he'd soon step out of the bed to find the suite's bathroom, stealing a towel to dampen it with warm water, returning with a shy grin.

"can you walk?" he asked after he finished cleaning your center and your thighs. you giggled softly, "you wanted me to be unable to walk?"

"not really... I mean—" baekhyun blurted nervously as you stood slowly.

"maybe if we spent a weekend together, hm? then yeah, I definitely would be unable to even stand" you teased, dressing yourself as you both prepared to leave the room you were sure you weren't supposed to be in. the thought of spending a weekend with you made his hair stand at the same time his heartbeat skipped a beat with anticipation.

"would you want to?" he murmured, blushing slightly at the rapidness of his attachment.

"wait, what? spend the weekend?" you widened your eyes as you combed your hair through your hands.

"I mean— yeah... my schedule is clear, and my penthouse is large enough for a crowd... I could try to get you in my van secretly, my driver wouldn't notice..." baekhyun was extremely cute, blabbering like that.

"okay, I'll go." you smiled softly to him, making him giddy as you both walked to the main exit stealthily, baekhyun striding ahead to get the van to a secluded spot as you watched from the shadows. it was almost like you could portray getting to know him, building a solid connection with him, and maybe fixing whatever it is that the other woman did to his poor heart.

if you hadn't picked him out to eat in the first place.

[eveninglakehomeworld]

hi friends and lovers, I've gathered a small collection of dialogues from Zevran in DA:O regarding Antiva & the Crows.

I got this together mostly for myself, but thought I'd share in case anyone who is maybe looking to flesh out their new Crow OC, write fanfic involving Crow characters, or is looking for a refresher on early Crow lore would like something to reference. I trimmed down dialogues a bit, so mostly just information relevant to the Crows, Antiva in general, and Zevran's own attitudes about being an assassin are present.

this post has dialogues from Zev's recruitment event and a couple of early game camp conversations. because it's only a handful of dialogues, this is, ostensibly, part 1 of several. I plan to post more as I progress through my replay of origins. enjoy! <3

Recruitment

Warden: "What are the Antivan Crows?"

Leliana: I can tell you that. They are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done... so to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man.

Zevran: Quite right. I'm surprised you haven't heard much of the Crows out here. Back where I come from, we're rather infamous.

Warden: "You came all the way from Antiva?"

Zevran: Not precisely. I was in the neighborhood when the offer came. The Crows get around, you see.

[After being asked if he's loyal to Loghain]

Zevran: Beyond that, no, I'm not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service.

Warden: "And now that you've failed that service?"

Zevran: Well, that's between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself.

Warden: "When were you to see him next?"

Zevran: I wasn't. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results... if he didn't already know. If I had failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least, as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then.

Warden: "How much were you paid?"

Zevran: I wasn't paid anything. The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand. Which does make me about as poor as a chantry mouse, come to think of it. Being an Antivan Crow isn't for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest.

Warden: "Then why are you one?"

Zevran: Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose it's because I wasn't give much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain, too, or so I'm led to believe. But don't let my sad story influence you. The Crows aren't so bad. They keep one well supplied: Wine, women, men. Whatever you happen to fancy. Though, the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I'd really think twice about it.

Warden: "Aren't you at least loyal to your employers?"

Zevran: Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further.

Warden: "I'm listening. Make it quick."

Zevran: Well, here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you obviously are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead.

Warden: "And what's to stop you from finishing the job later?"

Zevran: To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child. I think I've paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can't touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might kill me just on the principle of failing the first time. Honestly, I'd rather take my chances with you.

Warden: "Won't they come after you?"

Zevran: Possibly. I happen to know their wily ways, however. I can protect myself, as well as you. Not that you seem to need much help. And if not, well, it's not as if I had many alternatives to start with, is it?

Warden: "Why would I want your service?"

Zevran: Why? Because I am skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more... sophisticated... now that my attempts have failed.

A few early game camp conversations

Conversation 1 Warden: "What does it take to become an assassin?"

Zevran: Well, the Crows would have you believe that it is an involved process that takes years of training, the sort that tests both your resolve and your endurance. Survive that process and maybe, just maybe, you're good enough to start being considered one of them. But quite frankly the truth is that all it requires is a desire to kill people for a living. It's surprising how well one can do in such a field.

Warden: "It doesn't take any special skill?"

Zevran: I don't know about that. It's simply a slightly different skill set from your average killer, as I see it. An assassin simply specializes in striking from stealth... and in maximizing that first attack to be as lethal as possible. Debilitating your foe, either by poison or by crippling their limbs, makes any follow-up combat you need to engage in that much simpler.

Warden: "That sounds like it could be useful."

Zevran: See? Getting paid for the act is beside the point. An assassin is more a tactical choice than a lifestyle. Of course, the Crows like to pretend that their abilities are trade secrets, shrouded in shadows and wrapped in a blanket of mystery. So let's just keep this between you and me, shall we, hmm?

Conversation 2 Warden: "Why did you want to leave the Crows, exactly?"

Zevran: Well, now, I imagine that's a very fair question. Being an assassin, after all, is a living, at least as far as such things go. I was simply never given the opportunity to choose another way. So if that choice presents itself, why should I not seize upon it?

Warden: "You didn't choose the Crows?"

Zevran: Mm? To be truthful, I didn't even know the Crows existed when I joined them. I was but a boy of seven when I was purchased. For three sovereigns, I'm told. Which is a good price, considering I was all ribs and bone and didn't know the pommel of a dagger from the pointy end. The Crows buy all their assassins that way. Buy them young, raise them to know nothing else but murder. And if you do poorly in your training, you die.

Warden: "That sounds awful."

Zevran: "Oh, I don't know about that. The Crows who are actually good enough to survive come to enjoy some of the benefits. In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you wealth. It gets you women... and men, or whatever it is you might fancy. But that does mean doing what is expected of you, always. And it means being expendable. It's a cage, if a gilded cage. Pretty, but confining. [note: I transcribed the first line of the last section as it was written in the subtitles because it seemed to make more sense in context, but when Zevran speaks it aloud he actually says "That does not mean doing what is expected of you." presumably an editing error, but can't be 100% positive which is the intended message.]

[After being asked what he thinks his future might hold]

Zevran: As for what I'll do in the future... presuming that there is one... I truly can't imagine. It might be interesting to go into business for myself, for a change. Far away from Antiva, of course. For now, naturally, I go where you go.

Warden: "Won't the Crows eventually find you?"

Zevran: [laughs] Eventually can be a very, very long time if one plays one's cards right. Come, now. Enough chit-chat. Talking about the Crows summons them, you know. Any Antivan fishwife could tell you so.

Conversation 3 Warden: "Do you actually enjoy being an assassin?"

Zevran: And why not? There are many things to enjoy about being a Crow in Antiva. You are respected. You are feared. The authorities go out of their way to overlook your trespasses. Even the rewards are nothing to turn your nose up at. As for the killing part, well... some people simply need assassinating. Or do you disagree?

Warden: "You've never killed an innocent?"

Zevran: Now there's an interesting word, "innocent." How many men do you know who can claim to truly be innocent? But if you're talking generalities, such as children and relatives and bystanders and such... never on purpose, but it happens. It's unfortunate, but death comes to us all. If not me, then some wasting disease. Or a fall down the stairs. Or at the hands of a darkspawn. It's all relative in the end.

Warden: "I suppose that's true."

Zevran: "Death happens," as we like to say. And when I get paid for it, death happens more often. As far as enjoying the act of killing itself, why not? There is a certain artistry to the deed, the pleasure of sinking your blade into their flesh and knowing that their life is in your hands.

Warden: "I know what you mean."

Zevran: There are many things I did not enjoy about being a Crow, of course. Having no choice, being treated as an expendable commodity, the rules... oh, so many rules! But, simply being an assassin? I like it just fine. I will continue to do it, if I can, even if I am not a Crow. Honestly, could you picture me doing something else?

Conversation 4 [note: I trimmed this one down a lot bc it's just one of the ones where he tells you about a job and there's not a lot to be gleaned about Antiva, how the Crows operate, etc] [In response to being asked, "The Crows were willing to anger the Circle of Magi?"]

Zevran: In Antiva, nobody is too important to escape the reach of the Crows. They have killed kings and queens. That's simply how it is.

[After elaborating on how he fumbled an assassination attempt and the mark died accidentally, instead of by his hand]

Zevran: Then I found out she had told the driver to take her to Genellan instead. She has planned to lose me in the provinces. I would have looked very foolish to the Crows. As it was, my master was very impressed that I had done such a fine job of making it look like an accident. The Circle of Magi was unaware of foul play, and everyone was happier all around.

Conversation 5 Warden: "Tell me a little about Antiva."

Zevran: Oh? You wish to know about Antiva, do you? The only way to truly appreciate it would be to go there. It is a warm place, not cold and harsh like this Ferelden. In Antiva it rains often, but the flowers are always in bloom... or so the saying goes.

Warden: "Don't you want to go back?"

Zevran: [sighs] It is not really a matter of wanting to go back. I cannot go. At least not yet. I hail from the glorious Antiva City, home to the royal palace. It is a glittering gem amidst the sand, my Antiva City. Do you come from someplace comparable?

Warden: "I'm not from any glittering gem, no."

Zevran: No? That is too bad. If you were, then surely you would spend as much time boasting about it as I do! Hmm. You know what is most odd? We speak of my homeland, and for all its wine and its dark-haired beauties and the lillo flutes of the minstrels... I miss the leather the most.

Warden: "Is that some kind of euphemism?"

Zevran: [laughs] It may as well be! But not this once, no. I mean the smell. For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Antiva City's leather-making district, in a building where the Crows stored their youngest recruits. Packed in like crates. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me most of home more than anything else.

Warden: "That's a little bizarre. There's leather everywhere."

Zevran: Ah, but it's not Antivan leather, is it? I do not know what the Antivan tanners do that is different, but ther is no leather more supple nor more fragrant.

Warden: "You sound like you've been away from home forever."

Zevran: Oh, not so long, I know. It is my first time away from Antiva, however, and the thought of never returning makes me think of it constantly. Before I left, I was tempted to spend what little coin I possessed on leather boots I spotted in a store window. Finest Antivan leather, perfect craftsmanship—ah, but I was a fool to leave them. I thought, "Ah, Zevran, you can buy them when you return as a reward from a job well done." More the fool I, no?

Warden: "Your home is still there, Zevran."

Zevran: True, and it's a comforting thought. One simply never knows what is to come next.

Now, if it is all the same to you, I would prefer not to speak more of Antiva. It makes me wistful and hungry for a proper meal.

Bonus banter snippet because I found it amusing:

Morrigan: You assassin types have a death wish, I see.

Zevran: [laughs] Only the really good ones.

[koryvaio]

:*¨༺ 「 ✦ 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ✦ 」 ༻¨*:

WARNINGS: +18!, minors dni!, angst, smut, swear words, oral (f receiving), p in v, light chocking, overstimulation, exhibition?

summary: You and Buck have some unfinished business from a few years ago that keeps getting between you and doing your job.

pairing: Evan 'Buck' Buckley × Reader!Female

feedback is highly appreciated! (my first ever fanfic, so don't be too harsh😭)

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It has been about 3 months since you've joined the 118. You were there as a replacement for the famous Eddie Diaz who left the firehouse due to some family problems— from what people told you, because you were not familiar with this man; you've never seen him, but he sure was everywhere around that station.

You got along with pretty much everyone. Bobby, Hen and Chimney were great guys, and you enjoyed your shifts with them. And then, there was Evan, or Buck as his colleagues call him now.

You and Buck met a few years ago in a club. You were drunk. He was drunk. One thing led to another, and you two had a pretty good time with one another. You messed around for a while with no strings attached, but when he asked you to make it official? You got cold feet and decided to call it off .....by ghosting him.

Back then, he wasn't a firefighter yet, and you were in your second year of uni, and obviously, you didn't keep in touch after your fallout. Seeing each other in the station on your first day was something to be remembered. The colour from your faces drained, and you were both as white as a sheet.

"Are you— are you guys ok?" Hen asked. "Perhaps you know each other?" She was quick to notice your reactions and puzzled things together. But you were not about to be defined as Evan's former side piece.

"No!" You reply swiftly, giving Evan no time to react. "He looked a bit familiar, but I don't think we've met. Y/N." You extend your hand to shake on your 'new' acquaintance.

Given how you've behaved, at first, you didn't really blame Buck for giving you the cold shoulder. What you did blame him for was his lack of professionalism on the job.

You had a pretty nasty call today, and he was behaving like a total brat. He wouldn't help you unless Bobby would demand it, and he wouldn't let you help him if Bobby wouldn't tell him to. Because of this, you almost lost 3 people.

When you got back to the station, Bobby was fuming, and he had every right. "Buck, Y/N! After you get changed, I want you in my office!"

"You guys had it coming." Chimney says as he slams the ambulance's door shut.

You sigh and go change, mentally preparing for what was to come. It wasn't your fault Buck was such a big baby, and he couldn't separate his private life from work.

"Shut the door and take a seat." Bobby tells you after you enter his office. Buck was already seated, and he seemed tense.

"I know better than to pair you two, but sometimes I can't spare a firefighter just because you guys don't get along." Bobby pauses. "This is not a highschool, this is a firestation. My firestation. Your job. When that alarm goes off, I expect every single one of you to act like one person. To save people, because that's what you're here to do!" he raised his voice a bit, visibly annoyed. "We almost lost 3 people minutes ago because you two can't even talk to eachother?! I will not have that. I don't care what you have going on, but when we're on a call, we are a team. We communicate and we help eachother and we let the others help us." He glared at you. Both you and Buck were ashamed and looked at the ground. "If this happens again, you have my word, I will either have you transferred or fired."

"Cap—" Buck tries to say something, but Bobby cuts him off. "Both of you! I don't care whose fault it is. And don't try to explain anything, Buck. I was there and I saw everything with my own eyes. You can go." He waves his hand at the door.

As soon as you close the door, Buck pulls you aside. "All this shit, everything is on you!"

You push him off of you and reply, somewhat surprised by his outburst. "Unlike you, I can separate my personal life from my work life. I was trying to help you, and I always tried to be cordial with you."

"Fuck off!" He spits out, angrily running a hand through his hair. "I can work just fine with anyone, but you. I don't think I am the problem!"

"News flash, so can I! Stop bitching and own it! You fucked up!" All the shame and guilt you felt just moments ago washed away, getting replaced by rage. The audacity this man had.

"I can't trust you! How can I let you help me if I can't trust you? You're not trustworthy, you proved that a long time ago!" There it was, you thought to yourself. His head was so far up his own ass.

"Oh my god, your fragile masculinity almost got three people killed, Evan! And you don't seem to care about it! Do you comprehend that? I'm genuinely asking."

"My fragile masculinity?" He scoffs.

"Yes! We weren't even a thing, and it was yeaaaars ago! Years!"

He steps closer. "Because you didn't even give us a chance. You took off like a...." He pauses, unsure of how to continue, so he stops.

"Like a what? Have you ever stopped and wondered if maybe I just didn't want you? Unlike what you may think about yourself, you're not all that!" You were lying through your teeth. But he couldn't have known that, right?

He rolls his eyes, clearly not believing you.

You step closer, looking for his gaze. "And even so, this does not make up for all the stupid shit you've done these past three months." You poke his chest with your finger. "You caused more problems than you've solved, and you almost lost everyone we saved! I get it that you have it against me, but think about those people who look up to us to save them."

He is taken aback at first but replies swiftly. "You are not a saviour." He lowers his head, towering over you. Your breath catches in your throat. "And stop trying to bullshit me about not wanting me. Your body betrays you. Everytime."

"I— my body, what? You're insane." You try to deny it.

He grins, closing the space between you, pinning you against the firetruck. His eyes were full of mischief. You knew that look— he was up to no good. You hated the situation you just found yourself in. You were so attracted to him, and you didn't want to let it show, but just like he said, your body was betraying you.

You both remain silent. Your bodies were talking to one another in their own language, known only by them. Your chest starts rising rapidly. He picked up on that, and reaching behind you, he opened the door of the firetruck. You understood what he meant, and you were down for it.

You both climb in the truck, with one thought on your minds: eachother. As soon as the door is closed, Buck launches an attack on your lips, kissing and biting your lower lip, making you moan a little too loud. He stops, placing a finger on your mouth. "You have to be silent. Not quiet, silent." He insists. "The truck may be locked, but they can still hear."

You nod, aware that they could hear you two. As of now, mostly you, but you couldn't really content those sounds at the moment, but you had to try. He takes his hand off and grips your left tigh, laying you down on the seats, reassaulting your lips. His hands roam freely on your body from your tigh to your neck, squeezing softly. His lips start tracing kisses from your mouth down to your neck, nibbling. You turn your head on the side to make more room for him while you undo the buttons of your shirt to give him access to the rest of your body. He takes the hint and starts lowering his kisses. His tigh was in between your legs, and you started griding, desperate for some friction.

He smiles, amused by your action. "You were saying—" he starts saying before you cut him off. "That mouth has better things to do right now than talk." He smirks, gripping your breasts without any kind of warning, pinching and squeezing through the thin material of your bra. You muffle your moans by putting a hand over your mouth. His smirk gets even wider if that is even possible. You would've loved to wipe that smirk off of his face, but you were enjoying the moment too much to take any action.

Your hand slips under his shirt, urging him to take it off, and he compiles. His biceps looked so good while he was stretching that a moan almost rolled off your lips. He gets back down to you and starts placing wet, sloppy kisses on your stomach. His hands quickly undo your belt. "Lift up, baby." And you do. He takes off your trousers and underwear, leaving you exposed in front of him.

"You're so ready for me. Beautiful. " He muffles to himself. He grabs onto your legs and puts them on his shoulders as he gets down to his knees in front of you. He sloppily kisses the inside of your tigh, biting, making sure to leave marks. His nose gets close to your core, gently brushing against it before his tongue steals the spotlight. Your back starts arching and a bit annoyed by his cat-licking, you push yourself onto his face. He starts laughing, but he takes his job seriously afterwards. Two of his fingers start thrusting in and out of you as his mouth continues its licking and sucking. Your hand pulls on his hair, which makes him grunt against your folds; your body reacts almost immediately, sucking his fingers in and squeezing around them. He knew you were close.

"For me, baby." He says while he intensifies his fingers' speed. You whine, telling him to keep going faster. He complies once again. His thumb starts flipping your bean, which sent you over the edge. Your chest was rising rapidly. He only got better with time.

His hands quickly undo his belt, and he lets his trousers fall down, exposing his raging boner. He wasn't done with you yet. He slips inside you without notice, making a loud slap sound. You fail to muffle the moan that came along with his action. "We had a deal." He grins. He wanted to hear you. You open your mouth to say something, but just then, he grips onto your hips and starts thrusting swiftly in and out of you.

Your mind fails to cling onto whatever you had to say to him, only being able to enjoy the moment. He notices and grins again, proud of himself. He nudges you to roll over. Once you do that, his arm loops around you, grabbing your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nips, pinning your back against his chest. He starts kissing your neck while the other hand finds its way down to your core again, caressing it.

You are so overstimulated that you can feel your second orgasm coming. Your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The way your walls start squeezing around him and how his name keeps rolling off of your lips almost send Buck over the edge.

"Together, baby. Jesus, you feel so good."He grunts. You can't help but whine because of how overstimulated you were. That was it for you. His grunts against your skin, along with everything else, made you reach the climax. Your shaky body did it for Buck. He was whispering in your ear with a low guttural voice, which alone could make you come again.

You both fall onto the seat of the truck, worn out. "I despise you so much." He says, catching his breath and gathering both of your clothes.

"You can show me later again how much you despise me." You say trying to stop your legs from shaking while grabbing your clothes from Buck.

He grins as he puts his shirt back on. His muscles stretch out so beautifully that it almost makes you want to jump him again.

You do the last button of your shirt as the alarm goes off.

The crew starts gathering, and Chimney is the first to enter the truck. "What were you two doing—. Ew! Nevermind!" He acts grossed out, and you feel your cheeks getting red knowing that Chim will tell Hen and Bobby first thing.

"We... had a talk about some unsolved business." Buck grins.

[lizzyk137]

Worth Staying- A Spencer Reid Fanfic (Reader X Spencer Reid)

Description: You have been on another assignment away from the BAU. Once you come back, you come to find Spencer, your boyfriend, and JJ's friendship has been bothering you. After a brief accident you have to decide if it's worth staying with Spencer or walking away. Warnings: Brief mention of unsub, gun shot, gun shot would, broken glass.

Part Two! Wanting to read more, visit my Masterlist!

"You okay, Y/N?" Morgan asked you as you sat in the back of an ambulance.

You held a bundle of gauze against your head as the EMT patched up your arm before you could get it seen at the hospital. "Yeah, I'll be okay, nothing major."

"Okay, let me know if you need anything."

You nodded, keeping your eyes ahead of you and not to the side ambulance where your boyfriend stood in front of your coworker, gushing over her wounds.

You blamed the tears forming in your eyes from the wounds you had just suffered, not wanting to let your mind go to where it had almost gone for months now.

It started three months ago, you had just finished working on an overseas assignment after two years of being away. You were happy to be back home with your old team, your boyfriend one of them. You had started with the BAU and Spencer had become fast friends with you. Everyone was like family, but Spencer was special and your feelings for him were much different than what they were for the rest of the team. It wasn't until a rainy day that left you and Spencer stranded at the airport for hours trying to get home. One thing led to another, and you ended up making out in the empty terminal.

Since then, Spencer and you were inseparable for a year before you were reassigned. Two years seemed like such a long time, and it honestly was, but Spencer and you would visit each other on your vacations, and you were always together on the phone or facetime, something you had to fight Spencer on doing at first. Two years finally ended, and you remember back to your first hug at the airport. Spencer had picked you up and swung you around. You were so happy to be back.

The first day back at work ended up being your first case. You had remembered the old days of sitting next to Spencer on the plane, solving each clue together until you caught the unsub. You had eagerly grabbed your go bag and took the plane's stairs two at a time before stopping dead in your tracks when you saw everyone had their spot, and Spencer's was next to JJ's. It took you awhile to get used to the routines that were set after your left, and everyone read your awkwardness so well that they accommodated when needed to make the transition better. But one thing did not get easier.

Their friendship.

You weren't the jealous type; you were more than happy that Spencer had such close and caring friends. You knew he had a crush on her for the longest time, I mean who wouldn't, JJ was great. What bothered you was how much Spencer forgot about you when JJ was present and how embarrassing it would be when him and JJ put on a show of including you. You knew that was just how they were in general, Spencer rambling and JJ's motherly cooing, but it was so embarrassing to have a room full of officers watching as the pair of them realized you had been present all that time. Your ears burned red, your hands stiffened, and the smile you forced on your face eventually hurt when you told them it was okay, that you just showed up.

It was humiliating.

And it continued for months.

Your relationship with Spencer was flatlining, if you could call it a relationship. The cases had picked up and as much as you would've liked to blame them, you knew you were distancing yourself from him.

"Hey baby girl, what do we got on that background?" Morgan asked Penelope as you sat in your vehicle in front of the unsub's home.

You were paired with Morgan that morning, something that has been the norm since your return. You were used to more desk work then field work when you were first in the BAU, but after your assignment field work ended up being your calling, it was a nice change of pace, especially to keep your mind from wandering since you had gotten back.

"Nothing at the moment, this guy has no digital thumbprint. I can't find anything on his past, past relationships or family members. Spencer hasn't found anything in his scholastic journals either."

You ended the call with Penelope before rubbing your eyes. "We have nothing on this guy, no one knows him, and we got nothing for when we catch him. I hate walking in blind."

And blind Morgan and you walked in before the rest of the team showed up. In the midst of getting the unsub to let go of a small child, you ended up getting hit and shot at. Bringing you to the present moment where you were trying not to notice your boyfriend in the ambulance next to you.

You were glad JJ wasn't hurt besides a few cuts from the window shattering from the bullet that grazed your arm, the better part of you fighting with your petty side. You took a deep breath, blinking back the tears that were forcing their way out before hopping out of the ambulance as you made your way back to the team.

"Y/L/N, how are you doing?" Hotch asked as you found your way to the circle that the team had created at the end of the polic tape.

"I'm okay, they told me I should probably get a doctor to look at my arm and have it stitched but that can wait until we've gone over everything." Hotch nodded before letting a small smile slip from his lips. His way of letting you know that you'll be okay.

"Oh, my Y/N. So brave!" Emily grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. She deemed herself your big sister and loved to tease you, but you knew the harder she hugged you, the more you would lose your self control.

You pulled back, putting as much of a smile as you could on your face. "Hey, anyone would've kicked down the door when they heard that little girl screaming."

"True," her head tilting to get a better look at your face, unknown to you that the brave and smiling women you thought you were projecting was crumbling. "But no one would've gotten up from being shot at and kicked an unsubs ass." She went to brush a fallen hair behind your ear before she thought better. Your smile had slipped, and she knew it was only a matter of time before you couldn't contain the overflow of tears.

Rossi watched from the sideline. He knew dating coworkers never ended well, and he honestly hoped the best for you and Spencer. You were like his kids, and he was rooting for you. He knew Spencer was oblivious to what he was doing, not that it was malicious but to constantly ignore someone, especially a lover, it was bound to break them down sooner or later. He knew if you left Spencer, it would destroy him. The whole team knew how much you meant to him, but the poor boy couldn't figure out the right way of showing it.

The next hour flew by, collecting all of your belongings from the precinct to your hotel before grabbing a quick bite to eat.

You sat by yourself overhearing Spencer ask Hotch if we could leave ahead of schedule so JJ could rest her head and arm. You knew he was worried she wouldn't be able to sleep if she wasn't at home with her kids, something that comforted her after seeing all the ugly. You saw Hotch nod, and you wished for the plane ride to be quick. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold it all in.

"Y/N, why don't you come with me, and we'll get you checked out at the hospital?" Rossi called out to you, nodding to your gauze covered arm that was almost bright red.

You nodded, briefly looking at Spencer as he sat and chatted with the rest of the team.

You got up from your spot and grabbed your backpack. You stood there for a second waiting for Spencer to notice you, to look up even for just a second and looked you in the eyes, a goofy grin on his face.

But it didn't happen.

And that's when you decided that maybe Spencer Reid would be better off without you.

You heard the door jingle and looked over to see Rossi holding the door open for you, an understanding look on his face.

You took a deep breath in and walked out the door, knowing you weren't just walking out of the restaurant but out of Spencer Reid's heart.

[elizabethminkel]

hi i read your article on fanfiction culture changing and it reminded me of a comment i got on a fic in 2023. (i was going to say this year/recently but then i checked and wow time moves fast) it was phrased like i wasn't ever going to see it. which is weird bc there were only 2 other comments both of which i'd responded to. it was written almost to an audience that did not include me. idk what that says about the "culture" but i enjoyed your article!

Aw <3 thank you so much! (If anyone hasn't read it yet, this is in reference to "The Endless Appetite for Fanfiction.")

That's super interesting, and definitely relates to this broader ~thing~ imo. My first thought is about the (significant?) rise in people putting fic reviews on Goodreads. That's definitely part of the overall context collapse—and deeply annoys me!!—but it does make me think about the concrit conversation, and how fandom post-LJ has largely shut down critical discussion of fic, which was not a rarity back in the day. (I'm not opening that can of worms now lol.) Like, I have sympathy for the Discord fic book clubs, because you should be allowed to say whatever you want about a fic in private! But I feel like that needs to be just one component, especially if you have a lot of positive things to say about a work.

Funnily, I got a comment somewhat recently that felt, at least in one bit, like it was addressed more to the world than to me. It was a really nice comment! But I showed it to a friend in my confusion (and then just replied like it hadn't struck me as odd). I've also received comments in the last few years on older stories in which the commenter acts like I've long departed from my fandom—when I've published new works as recently as a few weeks prior, and post on my (linked from my AO3 profile) tumblr daily. Which seems related, too—like, me, the fan, is still right there, very easy to see?

I do think there's something to be said about depersonalization across social media, and the way people collapse "content creators" with their "content" (to be clear, I'm not calling fic writers or fic either of these things, but part of this whole situation is that a lot of readers are thinking of them that way). Like, the creator economy is structured to encourage people do that, even. And of course there's great commentary here on tumblr dot com and elsewhere about how people talk to strangers in ways they'd never dare to in real life. I mean, the digital disconnect led to plenty of...issues...back in the day, even when fandom and fanfic weren't as bifurcated as right now.

Anyway, I think this is all swirling together...and like, it's not great! (Haha this is like how I ended the article. "This sucks! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯") But thanks again for your message—this topic has so many interesting, if depressing, facets!!

[cielie-voss]

The guinea pig whisperer

Eddie Munson x fem!reader (and her guinea pigs)

Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?

Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think

Wordcount: 4.4k

Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps

Masterlist

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.

“We totally got this.”

Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?

As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.

Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.

“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?

When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?

But, oh boy, was he wrong.

You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.

The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.

Who could possibly refuse such a request?

Certainly not Eddie.

Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.

Veggies cut in thin slices.

He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.

Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.

Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.

As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?

He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.

Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.

Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.

He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.

The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.

After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.

“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.

“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.

That might do the trick.

To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.

“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”

They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.

“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?

The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.

Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.

With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.

“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.

Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.

Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.

On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.

Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.

But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.

One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.

Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?

With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.

Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.

Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.

Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.

That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.

He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.

But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.

He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.

The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.

A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.

As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.

One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.

Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.

About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.

But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.

“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.

Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.

“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”

He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.

Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.

Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.

Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.

"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.

Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.

Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”

For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.

When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.

Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.

You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”

Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.

“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.

Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.

For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.

“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”

Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”

xxx

I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.