#and i also got him within 11 pulls

[kara-knuckles]

Today marks three years since I started FGO, so I decided to roll three multis to celebrate. The first only brought two off-banner 4* CEs, the second was a complete min-roll, but the third...

That Fran spook tho. Would have been funny if I got three Morgans instead.

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 15.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of mate marks, trust issues

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: I know, I know... It's been wayyyy too long. What can I say? Live happened. Also, I was super unmotivated to write since I didn't know where this story was going. But... I had some intense thoughts about it. So... voilá!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Carefully, y/n traces the soft pink skin on her neck. She wishes she had a mirror and looks at the scar that Katsuki left behind. She presses her lips together. Right now, she's sitting in the tub washing off the grime and sickness of the past week. Ever since waking up, Katsuki has been uncharacteristically attentive and careful around y/n.

Part of y/n still wants to be angry with Katsuki but she finds it hard to be harsh towards him when he lingers around her like a shy dog who got punished by its owner. She notices how he tries to keep his hands on himself. Only late at night can she feel him touching her gently when he thinks she's already deep asleep.

There's a rustle from the curtain that marks the doorway back into the tent. Katsuki enters the bath hut without announcing himself. Quickly, y/n tries to cover up herself with her arms.

“Nothin' I haven't seen yet, doll.”, Katsuki comments dryly.

It sours his mood that y/n is clearly uncomfortable with him seeing her naked. He thought that after the marking, she'd feel more relaxed and secure around him, but clearly, that's not the case. Instead of strengthening their relationship, the marking pushed them back. Y/n doesn't seem to trust him like before.

He strides over to the tub and holds out some fresh linen for y/n. Hesitantly, y/n takes the cloth and gestures for Katsuki to turn around.

Katsuki turns around in defeat. He tries to suppress the feeling of annoyance rising within him. He promised to take care of y/n, but he also wants them to be happy, preferably together. This also means gaining her trust again and making her see that there's nothing for her to fear.

He hears how y/n gets up and dries herself with the linen. When he turns around, he helps y/n get out of the tub by extending an arm to her.

Y/n waddles into the tent leaving wet footprints behind her. Katsuki watches for a moment how the footprints start to fade before following her.

Maybe I should get her some slippers. The floor must be cold, Katsuki thinks.

When he enters the tent, he sees y/n wrapped in the linen on the bed brushing her hair with her fingers.

She might need a hairbrush for that long-ass hair, too, he ponders.

Y/n looks up and meets his eyes.

“Are there any fresh clothes?”, she asks him and points towards the pile of old clothes on the floor.

Katsuki understands and pulls out a dress he asked one of the older women to make for y/n. He picked the color red to match his eyes and Drami's scales.

Y/n pulls a face. The dress Katsuki is presenting to her is way too revealing. Not in a I-don't-like-showing-off-what-I've-got way but in a it's-way-too-cold-for-that way. Y/n shakes her head disapprovingly. She doesn't fail to notice the disappointed look at Katsuki's face.

“I can't wear that. I'm gonna be sick. Again. Do you want that?”, she tells Katsuki.

Y/n hops off the bed and strides towards Katsuki's closet and starts pulling out more suitable clothes. Katsuki watches her with a scowl. While he finds it endearing that y/n keeps wearing his clothes, he's a bit disappointed that she refuses the dress he had made for her.

When y/n has found everything she needs, she gestures for Katsuki to turn around again. Katsuki sighs and drops the dress on the bed. Adverting his gaze, he starts peeling an apple.

He hears the rustling of clothes. He looks up again when he feels a dip in the bed. Y/n sits there bundled up in way too many layers of his clothes. Katsuki thinks she looks like a drowned rat in it. None of her attractive features are visible in the baggy clothes she's wearing. For a moment, he wonders if that's how her people dress their women but then he remembers the dress she wore when they first met. Actually, where did that dress go? He should keep an eye out for it.

Katsuki sighs and hands y/n the peeled apple slices he cut for her. Y/n happily grabs the plate and starts munching on one of the apple slices.

“Katsuki, you in there?”, he hears Kirishima call from outside the tent.

“Yes, what do you want?”, he calls back grumpily.

After a short moment of silence, Kirishima calls: “Can I come in or are you indecent?”.

Katsuki can feel the blood rising to his face as he gets up from the bed.

“Shut up shitty-face! Come in and tell me what you want!”, he yells back.

Swiftly, Kirishima enters the tent. His eyes fall onto y/n who gives him a small wave.

“The missus is happy, it seems?”, he asks his friend and leader who only gives him a low grumble in return. Kirishima sighs and shakes his head.

“Look, I know you're the leader and everything but let me give you some advice: Spending time with the mate is all good and well. Y/n having a baby would sure be good news to the tribe, but...”, Kirishima starts and Katsuki throws a mean glace his way.

“... but you also should show your face around the settlement. People are starting to question where their boss is.”, Kirishima finishes.

“What are you telling me, Kirishima? That I'm neglecting my role as chief?”, Katsuki barks back.

Kirishima gives him a blank look.

“Yes, Katsuki, that's what I'm saying.”, he answers his friend. Katsuki growls at that and turns around to y/n who almost finished her apple.

“The men talk.”, Kirishima informs him.

“They always do. What do I care about?”, Katsuki answers.

“They talk about you. That you neglect your duties. That this foreign woman bewitched you. That the course we're steering isn't for the good of the people.”, Kirishima says carefully.

“What course?”, Katsuki snaps at him. Kirishima holds his sharp gaze.

“They say that you're in over your head. They think you're afraid and therefore you restrict the tribe's movements. Some even express that the plan of focusing on women probably won't work considering that your own mate almost passed.”, Kirishima explains matter-of-factly.

At that, Katsuki grinds his teeth. Kirishima is loyal, so he's sure the man is telling the truth. But who do these men think they are? They've never led a whole tribe, let alone trying to save one from extinction.

“Fine”, Katsuki says, “Then let's give them something real to talk about.”

~*~*~*~

Y/n watches Katsuki put on his armor. He's been on edge all morning and she doesn't dare to question him about what's going on. He won't understand anyway which will probably put him into an even more sore mood.

Suddenly, Mitsuki enters the tent. She's holding a bowl with a blue paste inside.

“You're a fool.”, she tells his son.

“What?”, he snaps at her while sitting down at the edge of the bed securing a dagger to his side.

“You can't tell me that you think this is a good idea.”, she says but Katsuki only scoffs.

“I'm sure you heard what they say. They start to think I'm an unfit leader. I guess it's time to remind them why I've become their leader in the first place.”, he tells her as he gestures for his mother to

come closer.

Mitsuki only sighs and looks disapprovingly at her son. Then, she steps closer and starts painting stripes and other patterns onto his face and body. Y/n watches intently. She notices that the patterns are different than the ones that were put onto her when she was shown off to the tribe.

“You know I shouldn't be doing this.”, Mitsuki comments.

Katsuki doesn't answer.

“Painting you for war is your mate's task.”, she tells him and Katsuki scoffs again.

“She'll learn in time.”, he replies.

Mitsuki throws a glance at y/n.

“If you say so.”

~*~*~*~

After Mitsuki finishes painting Katsuki's body, she leaves the tent. Katsuki takes a moment to ready himself. Once they leave the tent, it will be all high energy until he returns.

He turns to y/n who is watching him intently. When he doesn't say anything, she tilts her head

questioningly.

Katsuki pats her head and gets up. He grabs his sword and secures it to his belt.

Suddenly, they hear drums outside of the tent.

“The drums of war are calling us.”, Katsuki tells y/n, “Time for us to go.”

He gestures for y/n to get up and follow him outside. Y/n does so without complaining.

Outside, it seems as if the whole tribe is on the street. Y/n sees all men wearing similar paint on their faces as Katsuki. Also, they're all heavily armed.

Y/n looks around alarmed. What's going on? Are they being attacked?

Suddenly she spots Kirishima in the crowd. He's wearing a dim expression. Kirishima makes his way over to Katsuki and y/n.

Y/n oggles at the swirling red patterns that were drawn around Kirishima's armor. Katsuki elbows her roughly and she quickly adverts her gaze.

When Kirishima reaches them, he only says: “You're a fool, Katsuki.”

“Yeah, I've been told so today already.”, Katsuki grumbles.

“I'm not sure if organizing a raid in Todoroki territory is a smart way of securing the loyalty of your subjects.”, Kirishima points out.

“They need to be reminded that I can easily kill them if I have to. The best way of reminding them is to wring a few necks of Todoroki soldiers.”, Katsuki tells him.

Kirishima gives him a long stare.

“I'm sure that's the best way to make your men believe in your leadership skills.”, Kirishima says sarcastically.

A blonde man passes them and gives Katsuki a clap on the back. Y/n remembers that she had seen him before on the day that they arrived at the settlement.

“We're gonna blast these suckers!”, the man whoops and disappears in the crowd again.

“Denki seems to agree.”, Katsuki notes and Kirishima sighs.

“Denki's an idiot. He'd pick a fight with a bear naked and still think he could win.”, Kirishima complains, but Katsuki only shrugs.

“Do you really think we'll have to fight Todoroki soldiers?”, he asks his chief. Katsuki nods.

“Considering the scouts report and the rising military presence even in the outskirts of the kingdom, we need to be prepared to fight trained soldiers with swords instead of scared farmers with pitchforks.”, Katsuki points out.

Now it's Kirishima's turn to sigh.

“Well, your plan for this raid better be good. I'd really hate to die because our chief's a fool.”, Kirishima replies and starts walking. Katsuki gestures y/n to follow him.

Y/n notes how the entire tribe is walking in the same direction. She didn't know that many people lived in the settlement. There are mostly men and some elderly people. However, she also spots some women here and there. When she tries to smile at them, they quickly avert their gaze.

Katsuki tucks at her arm and pulls her forward. Only then she notices where they are going. Towards the gorge where the dragons live.

The dragons are lined up infront of the gorge. Y/n spots Katsuki's dragon almost immediately. The red one is a lot bigger than all the other dragons, even the mean-looking black ones. At least the green one's not here, y/n thinks and shudders.

She watches as some of the men say goodbye to their loved ones and then heave themselves up on their dragons. She sees a man kissing a woman who looks just out of place like herself. She doesn't seem to enjoy the kiss.

“Y/n”, she hears Katsuki say and she turns to him.

Katsuki is staring sternly in the dragon's direction before turning around to meet her gaze.

“I'll bring glory to you and our tribe.”, he tells her. He doesn't know why he does. It's not like she'd get it.

Softly, he traces the side of her face. Y/n looks up to him with big eyes. He grips her hips and pulls her hips against his.

“I'll come back to ya.”, he promises while running his hand through her hair. Y/n steadies her stance by putting her hands on his chest. Katsuki runs his hand up and down her back before placing it in her hair again. Slowly, he pulls her face towards his and kisses her deeply. Y/n's frozen for a moment, but then she kisses him back carefully.

Eventually, Katsuki pulls back. He places a last kiss on her forehead. Y/n watches Katsuki striding over to his dragon and mounting it. The men cheer.

With a mighty gust of wind, Katsuki and his dragon rise to the sky. Y/n watches as the men follow him. The swarm of dragons set off east and the drums are pounded until the dragons look like tiny ants in the sky.

Y/n turns around and watches the remaining people retreat to the settlement. She's a bit unsure what to do next. Most likely, she can return to Katsuki's tent. But then what? Katsuki and Kirishima are gone and it's not like Nadia will be of any help. Speaking of which, y/n hasn't seen Nadia around anywhere. Did she not come to send off her husband? Probably not, y/n concludes.

Suddenly, a cold, strong hand wraps itself around her arm. Y/n whips her head upwards and is met with a pair of ruby eyes. For a moment, she thinks that Katsuki has returned for her. Of course, that's not the case. It's the woman that Katsuki argued with.

Great, y/n thinks, from all the people helping me out, it just has to be her.

Mitsuki yanks her arm and y/n stumbles after her. They walk back into the settlement in silence.

Mitsuki takes her back to her tent. Inside, her ladies-in-waiting are working on a variety of tasks. Mitsuki points her toward an ancient-looking woman who is sewing. Y/n walks over timidly and the old woman pats at a cushion beside her while talking. Obviously, y/n doesn't understand her but when she hands y/n a torn shirt, a needle and yarn, y/n understands that she wants her to help sewing.

Y/n isn't a great seamstress but she's repaired enough clothes to know what she's doing. Her family never had much money, so she's used to repairing things over and over again. Also, it's kind of a meditative task.

For the next few hours, y/n keeps sewing one clothing piece after another while listening to the chattering of the old woman. She has no clue what the woman is going on about, but she doesn't seem to be unsatisfied with y/n work. Maybe she's just trying to make conversation, y/n thinks. Y/n decides that she likes the old woman.

Eventually, the pile of clothes that needed mending is worked through. The old woman puts the clothes into a basket and with a few words to y/n, she's walking outside the tent. For a moment, y/n thinks about following her. However, the woman gave no indication that y/n should follow her.

Maybe I was just supposed to help out with the clothes, y/n thinks. She turns around looking for Mitsuki. Maybe the woman has a new task for y/n, but the woman cannot be found anywhere. None of the other women are paying attention to y/n, so y/n takes a moment to observe them.

There are two older women peeling potatoes. The women are engrossed in a loud conversation. A young girl is sitting next to them cutting the peeled potatoes into thinner slices. She looks timid and doesn't chirp into the older women's conversation.

Best not to bug these two, y/n decides.

On the other side of the tent, there are two other women around Mitsuki's age, sharpening knives. The one with the blonde hair and the black streaks looks kind of brutish. Y/n contemplates approaching them since her father showed her how to sharpen knives before. Before she can decide against it, she forces herself to approach the women.

The women look up when y/n approaches them. They ask her something but y/n doesn't know how to respond, so she only points at the knives. The women exchange a glance but then make some space for y/n. The woman with the blonde hair starts showing y/n how to sharpen the knife, but y/n already knows the procedure, so she simply takes one of the knives and starts sharpening it. The women watch her for a good minute before deciding that y/n doesn't need any help.

The three of them work in silence which y/n appreciates after the old woman has talked her ear off. Also sharpening knives is a more demanding task than mending clothes. Y/n has to concentrate so that she won't slip and cut herself.

She's so deep in concentration that she doesn't notice Mitsuki entering the tent again and approaching them.

Y/n continues her work and when she thinks the knife is sharp enough, she lifts it against the light to inspect the edge of it. When she lets down the knife again, she notices Mitsuki standing next to her.

A shiver runs down her spine. Gods damn it! How did I not notice her?, y/n thinks.

Mitsuki takes the knife from her and inspects it. The other two women and y/n watch her intently. Eventually, Mitsuki lowers the knife and nods. The blonde woman claps her back. Mitsuki barks an order towards the women and they go back to work. Mitsuki swirls around and leaves the tent again.

I guess that's as much approval as I will get from her, y/n thinks taking the next knife.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[It's been so long, I don't know who of you even is still reading this story. So, I'm probably going to reset the tag list.

Please comment beneath this update if you'd still like to be tagged in future chapters. If you don't tell me to continue to tag you, I won't.

You're new here and want to be tagged? Please also comment beneath the latest update.]

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[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[gamblersdoll]

fwb, relationships, small angst, smut. long fic alert, not proof read, some fluff and some jokey jokes :p worked on this since 11 am.

katsuki bakugou didnt do the whole relationship thing. he felt like it was.. too intimate, too intense for him. a mere distraction for him and his career.

he thinks hes the only one who thinks that, seeing how shitty hair and pinky got together. the way that idiot and the emo chick were always together— fuck, chargebolt made her his whole life, which was fucking ridiculous.

he was more fond of the casual fucking, either going on tinder or hinge or whatever fucking apps there were. his account was booming though, several thousand of messages every five minutes. it annoyed him, shockingly.

“dude, can i get a fuckin’ minute of peace?” he barks out, silencing his phone and pinching his bridge.

“bro, you literally downloaded a dating slash fucking app, and you are the second pro hero.” kirishima reminded him, feet on the coffee table and swigging his soda. “get what you paid for.”

“get your fucking feet off’a my damn table, are you a caveman?”

he hated how kirishima was right, thinking he wouldnt get some kind of attention from an app when he was a hero, an attractive one at that.

so he deleted it, he’ll try going out more than possibly be stalked on a dating app.

he hated how every woman threw themselves at him when they saw him, he doesnt like that much attention. even in highschool, it overwhelms him. every girl in this damned bar was all over him.

well… excepting one. which so happened to be you, you just wanted to be left alone and drink to your hearts content. bakugou can clearly see that, and keeps an eye on your for a bit. later on though? oh he’s gotten loose enough to finally come up to you with ease.

“what’cha drinkin?” he asks, an arm supporting his weight on the bar table.. his cheeks were a slight pink, but he doesnt drink enough to make himself so tipsy or drunk.

“strawberry mimosa?” you chuckle, it literally says it on the can. “you must be blind or drunk to not be able to see that.”

an eyebrow of his quirks up, he’s intrigued. “i ain’t drunk, hon’.” he chuckles, “and do you even know who i am?”

“even if you are the ‘great explosion murder god, dynamight,’ yer off duty.” you snark back, hearing a baritone laugh come from his throat.

“and how would you know that?”

“well, pretty sure they wouldnt let you drink onna’ job.” you retort, turning to him now and crossing your legs. you hear a ‘yeah?’ and you nod.

“you sure, sweetheart?” he asks, taking another sip of his ‘oktober fest’. he sees you nod, and he hums. “how are you so sure?”

“pretty sure its common knowledge, but, common sense aint common no more.” you pull the final last word, dynamight nodding and tilting his drink to yours. you both clink your drinks together, holding the eye contact that he initiated.

the drive home was hell, the way he had struggled to keep his eyes on the road, your foot sliding across his lap and feeling him slowly get solid by the second.. you were a little vixen werent you? and to open the door without dropping you was more smooth than anything.

he practically ripped your clothes off, a nipple becoming his first victim and you arching into his mouth. he chuckled, youre so sensitive, arent you baby?

god, he hasnt had a good pussy in a long time.

his body molded into yours, kissing your neck and then lying you down and dragging his tongue down your supple skin until he got to your ankles, then back up to your nipples.

he never kissed your lips though, yet, he also didnt taste you.

the crack of the morning dawn showed its ass bright and early, your frame still within the bed and he was on the other side. interestingly, you both groan groggily and flutter your eyes open, head peering up and looking around.

lucky for you both, you werent hung over. you both peak over to each other.

one blink, two blinks, three blinks… bitch, say something!

“uh—“ you both say, redirecting your gazes and chuckling.

“you wanna go or me go?” he asks, watching you point to him and he nods. “did you like last night?” he asks, just a common courtesy to ask. he sometimes cared. it just depended on how you were in bed.

“i liked it,” you said, getting up and putting your panties on. “i did sleep with the second pro hero.”

he hums only.

“did you walk or drive to the bar?” he asks, pulling up ‘uber’ and looking to you. you mutter a ‘walk.’ and you give him the addresses to your house.

“you just randomly give out your address?” he asks, an eyebrow raised and hes hunched over.

“you just sleep with random people you dont know?”

he sucks his teeth, “you got such a mouth on you.” he taps on the confirmation button, “your uber will be here in thirty.”

“you seemed to love it last night, dynamight.” you glares at you for a second, you putting your dress back on and smirking. “but thank you, sir.”

sir?

you both make small talk, until the uber gets here and dynamight walks you to the car. he leans against the door frame, watching you strap in and take off.

katsuki bakugou wasnt a relationship type man. no, those were distracting and too intense for him. but yet, he invited you over again after exchanging numbers.

this was just casual sex, nothing more nothing less.

“you mean to fuckin tell me—“ he cuts himself off, pausing the show that you both were watching. “you ain’t never had your pussy eaten?”

“well.. no? thats bad?” you ask, taking a sip of the apple cider he brought from his fridge. “you cant get mad either, you haven’t either.”

“i had eaten something spicy, you want burnin’ pussy?” he retorts, taking a sip of water to cleanse his palette. “dont answer that, just lie the fuck back.” he shakes his head, softly pushing you back.

“sir, yes sir.” you joke, feeling his body weight hover over you and kiss your neck. you moan, feeling your shirt be pushed up and shorts be pulled down. he kisses your inner thigh, licking a long stripe up your bare clit— you pulling back for a second.

he peers up at you, heavy and lidded eye’s looking at you. “you good?” he asks, pausing all movement. you nod, feeling him hum and then slowly and softly kiss your clit again. you settle down, moaning his hero name, thats all you know him by.

“call me katsuki, hon’.” he mumbles in your pussy, spreading your lower lips apart and putting your clit in his mouth. he suckles on it like the sweetest candy he’s tasted, his cock starting to get harder by the second.

your breath is starting to hitch, a hand flying to his hair and gripping at the root. he grunts, eyes rolling back for a second and then hips bucking into the couch.

“fuck— mhm.. pull my shit, baby.” he groans, moving down your slit and putting your legs onto his shoulders. his tongue alone is making you clamp down on nothing, he can feel it.

your hips move on their own, grinding down against his lips and chin and he lets you use him, use him to make you feel good and cum on his face like no other. he takes pride in this, being the only one whos ever made you writhe in pleasure because of him.

“go ‘head, come on my face, mama.” and that only set you off, legs trying to close as your orgasm ripples through you in waves and he laughs, rubbing circles in your clit to add more to it. you try to close your legs, you try to push his hands away, only for him to swat at them. “aht aht, dont you fuckin’ go anywhere.”

you lie limp, feeling drained and youre trying to come down from your high and how good it feels to be devoured by him. “you said.. katsuki?” you whisper, and he finishes cleaning up the spit that dribbled down your cheeks and up your back.

“yeah.” he reiterated, pulling your shorts back up and patting your clothed cunt, watching you jerk.

katsuki bakugou wasnt into relationships, no, fuck that. he wasnt into the intense stuff and was damn sure not really intimate.

but yet, he finds himself liking the little things on social media, primarily tiktok. he hates the way people look so happy within relationships, some of them even being heros in different countries or even just here. but, he hates the way it gives him ideas, and brings a smile to his face.

ping!

he looks back at your messages, a small smile on his face and he feels his heart race—

the fuck was his heart racing for?

“do you want to go out for dinner tonight?” he replies back, feeling a pang in his chest, but it wasnt out of fear or anything. he watches the three bubbles pop up, and your response is all he wanted to read.

‘sure, surprise me.’

and he does, taking you to a michelin starred restaurant and making you order the most expensive thing. because he would feel bad if he only order the most expensive things, right?

“do you like it?” he asks, cutting into the steak that he ordered and watching you eat your food.

“yeah, i do. i just sometimes eat slow.” you reply, him nodding and then tapping his foot. “do you mind if i take it home?”

“… why would i be mad if you took food home, stupid?” he asks, like you just asked him if he claps with shitty hands.

“just askin..” you say, watching him wave over the waiter and ask for a box and the check. “we can split the bill if you want.”

he darts his eyes back to you, scrunching his face up and giving you a once over.

“what?”

“split the bill?” he asks, making sure he heard you right. you nod, and he nods with you. “give me yo fuckin’ wallet.”

“because i asked if you want to split the—?”

“did i speak japanese? give me your damn wallet.” he snarks back, snatching your wallet from your fingers and putting his metal card on the check book. “some damn split the bill.”

“well sorry..” you mumble, putting the left over food in the box.

“you can tell me how sorry you are later when we get home.” he suggests, an eyebrow raised at you and a smirk. “you can choose how much to tip.”

“deal.”

both of you could barely get up the stairs, him slamming you against the walls of the corridor that lead to upstairs, but hes already on his knees and shoving your panties to the side, spitting and licking on your pussy.

“wrap this around— yeah, good job.” he praises, holding you up by your legs and thrusting into your soppy walls. “fuck, yer tight tonight.”

your fingers pull at the root of his hair, open mouth moaning against his neck and kissing at it. you feel his groans reverberate in your body. “katsukiiii..” you moan, biting your lip.

“yeah, yeah, yeah, there ya’ goo..” he strews out praises, pressing his head against yours and kissing your neck back. “make me proud, thats it.”

“gunna cum.. gonna cum, kats—“ you say, feeling you clamp and feeling your walls contract against his walls of the house. he grunts, spilling his seed within the condom and growls in your neck.

“hey.. katsuki?” you asked, lying next to him in his bed. he opens his eyes, looking down to you.. “can i ask you something?”

“ask away.” he says, patting your rear and focusing in on you.

“why dont you ever kiss me?” you ask, he furrows his eyebrows, leaning up a bit.

“i do kiss you?” he retorts, something that he doesnt understand. the fuck were you talking about? he kisses you.. he kisses your neck, your head, your fucking pussy for crying out loud.

“yeah, everywhere but my lips.” you reject, sitting up and watching his movements.

he tilts his head for a bit, clicking his tongue. “thats just too intense and intimate for me. and, quite frankly, im not into it.” he admits, then he watches you frown. “what you frowin’ for?”

“we are literally laying in the bed, in nothing but boxers and a shirt and panties.” you remind him of your situation, the fuck did he mean it was ‘too intimate?’ “how can this not be intimate, but a kiss is?”

“this..” he circles to you and himself, “this is just casual fucking.” he tries to remind you, but he starts to grow agitated when you get up and start clothing yourself. “the fuck you doin?”

“this is just casual? but yet you took me on a fucking date.” you say, growing agitated and frustrated yourself.

“that was dinner, not a date.” hes starting to get annoyed, thats why he didnt do this shit often. “i am in no fucking bounds to you, youre not fucking special.” he says, running his fingers through his hair and breathing through his nose.

you stare at him, putting your shoes on and then grabbing your purse. “youre right, im sorry.” you say, grabbing your phone as well and then looking back to katsuki. “ill see you later, ‘kay?”

he stays quiet, getting up to open the door for you and then closing it behind. “for fucking christs sakes..”

he goes back to the king sized bed, closing his eyes and turning the television off. this night already went to shit, and he just wanted to sleep it off.

he wakes up the next day, he’s got another two hours before he goes into patrol. he figured he could just text you to come over, its a new day and apologize, have you stay for a couple hours until he came home and fix something.

“hey, you wanna come over and talk about it?” he typed, sending it to you and waiting for your reply.

twenty minutes had past, its weird. usually youd be up by this hour, but eventually you did respond a thumbs up, and he tided up the living room and waits on you.

“hey.” he gruffly says, letting you in and closing the door behind you. he smells something strong. “did you use incense or some shit?”

“no, its body spray.” you say, plopping on the couch and he smells it again, then it wakes him up even more.

“you wanna try again?” he asks, folding his arms and holding his scowl. “did you just come from someone else’s house?”

you stay quiet, staring at him. the fuck did he want from you?

“you fucked another guy?” he asked again, caging you in and staring into you. “because im not in the fucking mood for these fucking games.”

“am i not allowed to?” you ask, getting to his level as well and then matching his scowl. “im in no fucking bounds to you.”

“so you want to be fucking petty, thats what the fuck this is?”

“to the fuckin’ t.” you respond, grabbing your things and shoving past him. he grabs your arm, pulling you back and staring into your soul.

“who the fuck was it?”

“none of your fucking business, i didnt ask you about the bitches you be fucking that’s not me.” you retort, but it only deepens his scowl, into a face filled with venom.

“i dont be fuckin other bitches.” he growls, then scoffs when you laugh softly. “the fuck is funny?”

“you dont be fuckin other girls?”

“why the fuck would i?” he asks, putting his hands in the air in confusion. “you think i just spread my legs to anyone and everything?”

“wow, i must be so special to know and have that.” you snarkily say, walking to the door.

he groans in agitation and yells. “bitch, fuck you!”

“fuck you, too bitch!” you shout back as he makes his way to you and you slam the door behind you.

the fuck were you both even arguing for?

bakugou wasnt the same after that, he was more stressed at work, feeling the after effects of the argument and not hearing from you in weeks. its shown in the way he fights the villains on the job, a tad bit— no, alot more aggressively than usual.

and he wasn’t going out anymore, just work, gym, then home. he wasnt in the mood, he felt… alone, depressed, like he was missing something.

he had everything that hes had, so what could possibly be fucking missing?

he scrolls on his timeline, seeing that you posted another story at work. he felt his heart pang, a knee bouncing, and like he wanted to reach out.

was he seriously missing you right now?

he sucks his teeth, his head dropping and he’s feeling like such a fucking idiot. he felt it, like he couldnt go a couple of days without you. he needed relief, a certain one.

you both meet up at the bar, the same very place you met and then flirted hard. he watches you sit down, a new dress, huh?

you looked so damn gorgeous, it genuinely pissed him off.

“what do you want?” you ask, telling the bartender for a strawberry mimosa, your usual.

“i..” he tries to say, he hasnt done the whole ‘im sorry’ thing since highschool. “i was wrong.” he admits, staring back at you and watching your face. “was wrong fer callin’ you a bitch, and saying you werent special. and fer gettin’ mad that you slept with someone else.”

“hm.” you hum, tapping your foot and holding your drink. “ill let you in on a secret through the grape vine.” you say, watching him raise a single eyebrow.

“i didnt sleep with some other dude, it was your old cologne.” you say, watching his face contort into confusion. “you showed me an old cologne you used to wear when you were scrolling on tiktok with me. you were half asleep though.”

it all finally clicks when he remembers, and he rubs his face in pure embarrassment and anger. “im going to fucking kill you, bitch.” he says, not truly angry, but embarrassed.

you laugh, and his chest feels less tight. “im sorry for doing that, just tried to show you that what you said wasnt cool.”

“i respect that.” he says, drinking his moonshine.

“thats such a bitch drink..” you watch him swig, and he growls.

“says the one drinking a gotdamn mimosa.” he retorts, and you both finally have a good laugh after about thirteen minutes in.

he feels good, better.

katsuki bakugou wasnt the relationship guy, its too much for him.

but with the way he has you laying ontop of him, a discarded used condom in the trash bin next to his bed. he liked where he was at, the way the sun shined on your face and skin.. he pondered at the earliest hours of the morning. he didnt have to work today, that was good for him since he had you to spend time with. might even a plan a date for you tonight—

a date? the fuck?

he feels himself inclined to you, watching tiktok on the lowest volume so you dont awaken. he keeps seeing these couple tiktoks, watching how they go from tinder, to being married and shit.

could.. could that happen to you? he feels sick, like he was getting clammy and his heart pounded, a imaginative feeling that he finally proposes to you, gives you a couple brats that run around the house he just bought—

…aw fuck no.

“which dress fits me more?” you rummage through the hangers of dresses in the store, he only watches you and picks one out in particular. a split thigh dress with sleeves, since it was about to be fall. “oh, so you want my ass to fall out?”

“your ass aint going to fall out.” he chuckles, pulling it and putting it against you. “youd look good though.”

“would i really?”

he tilts your head up to his, looking into your eyes instead of your soul this time. “always.” he watches you get heated in the face, pulling away out of flustering and scramble to the next aisle.

once you finally start to check out everything, which was just a mere dress that he suggested and some more shirts, you pull your wallet out, just for him to slap it out of your grasps.

“the fuck?!” you say, picking it up and the cashier was already inserting his card.

“told you that when youre with me, i pay.” he reminds, taking the receipt and bag and then holding the door for you.

“did you have to slap my wallet out my hand, though? couldve been robbed!” you say, putting it back in your purse and grumbling.

“anyone trying to rob you infront of me is just stupid.”

“i guess..”

eventually when you got home, katsuki put the goods down onto the couch and then headed to the kitchen, cranking up the flames on his stove. “oh em gee, youre going to cook for me?”

“why did you say it like that, you dumbass?” he turns to you, a confused but laughing face. “yes, im cooking. you need to stop eating out as much.”

“i eat out maybe twice a week.” you say, and he purses his lips. “what? you saying im big?”

“i did not say that.” he growls, tossing the pan and sautéing the veggies. “what?” he asks, seeing your concerned face.

“you have no care for your pans or pots..” you say, watching his shrug and mock you. “on tonight’s episode of hells kitchen..”

“gordon ramsey wouldnt last thirty minutes with me.” he comments, shaking his head and sighing. “im the best cook.”

“no objections.”

and he was, making you a chicken bowl with rice, sautéed vegetables and toasted brioche bread. “thank you, katsu.” you say, the nickname rolling off of your tongue and you didn’t really think of it, but kissing his cheek.

he freezes, staring at you and an eye twitches.

“…what? did i have to brush my teeth after every meal too?”

“katsukii katsuki katsuki!” you moan out, legs pressed to your ears as he pounded away into your cervix. he growls into your ear and pulls you back up, flipping you onto your stomach and wrapping his arm around your throat, holding you in a headlock.

he groans, drilling his cock into your gummy spot that made you see stars like no other. this was more rougher, deeper, and fast paced than any other of your fucks. this one felt.. different.

all because of a fucking kiss on the cheek.

“katsuki!” you squealed strained, eyes rolling back and gritting your teeth trying to endure his cock inside of your fluttering walls.

“fuckin cum, beg me to let you cum.” he growls with venom, and desperation runs him completely now. he hears you, crying out his name and then fucking him back. “fucking god—hah!”

you cream along his shaft, his cock starting to twitch and he drags you up again, putting you back into missionary to slip away into your spasming cunt to just still inside and keep going.

“k-katsuki what are you?—“ he cuts you off by crashing his lips onto yours, a pang into your chest and arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer. he groans in the kiss, stopping his hips.

he pulls away, looking down to you with a narrowed gaze. “what?” you ask, his face getting a little bit softer.

“i dont want to just casually fuck with you anymore.” he says, getting closer to you. “think… think im in love with you.”

“..so.. because i have sex with you, youre in love with me?” you ask, his face dropping and he flicks your head. “ow— fucker!”

“no, stupid..” he says, “i like the moments we dont fuck. like dinner dates and the.. domestic shit i guess.” he says, biting his lip.

“so you admit that they were dates?” you snicker, and he chuckles in defeat.

“whatever you wanna call them, baby.” he says, but puts a hand on your cheek and. “i love you.”

you try to take it serious, but one factor. “can you tell me this without your cock being in me?” you ask, he shakes his head and pulls his hips back, allowing you to sit up.

“love you.” he says, his heart beating out of his ass.. or so it feels like it.

“i love you too, dummy.”

“now you fuckin ruined my moment.”

[zosin-ya]

Topic 8 - [ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

Summary: Surviving on instant noodles, you order takeout in the middle of exam prep—what you didn’t expect was your delivery guy to be a ridiculously hot, tattooed biker. Even more surprising? He’s a fellow med student at your university. As good as it sounded, he had a complicated past with an obsessive Ex who starts to target you.

tags.: One Piece, Law x Reader, SFW & NSFW, slow burn romance, Modern AU, Penguin and Shachi as flatmates, fashion-designer uncle Corazon, Laws parents, Laws crazy Ex, Strawhats as your friends (+ Bonney), protective Law, mentioned of his dead sister, also mentions of Laws trauma

a.n.: I pulled this story out of my ass and it’s rather spontaneous how I write the story. If you have ideas, I’m open to them 🖤

status: [ongoing] last updated June 13th 2025

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀʏ

An awkward encounter with the handsome delivery guy, who hardly speaks to you, yet somehow makes your heart skip a beat with his pretty face.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2 - ɪᴄᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ

Law was at your door once again, this time out of breath and visibly stressed. You offer him something to drink, which sparks a conversation that eventually leads to an exchange of numbers.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3 - ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ

At the café, you met up for a study date and saw a more relaxed, yet still exhausted, side of Law. Penguin showed up, clearly curious as to why Law was hanging out with someone from his university—especially since he rarely spent time with those people.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 - ʙᴏʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

Penguin couldn't keep his mouth shut about Law meeting you, which led him and Shachi to bombard him with questions. It was just a study date, right? No big deal. His flatmates quickly realized how oblivious he was. Or was he just denying any meaning, trying to protect himself from another crazy relationship.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴜɴ

Law invites you to a party, and after a few drinks, the two of you start to loosen up around each other. So much that the bathroom becomes a short lived make out spot.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6 - ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴏꜱᴇ (n.sfw)

After you forgot your keys at home and had no where to stay, Law casually offers his apartment for the night without any second intentions. Though the heat from the make out session still lingering in the air.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7 - ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ (n.sfw)

You meet Laws kind-hearted uncle, Rosinante, and learn more about his complex family history. What was supposed to be a casual, cozy game night with Law quickly takes an unexpected and more intimate turn.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 8 - ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀᴍᴇɴᴛ

A girl you've never met before, starts a chit chat with you during an uni event, you being immediately drawn in by her friendly, outgoing nature. Before you knew it, she invited you to a small party where she hinted you could make some valuable connections. Little did you realize, networking with a biker gang wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for boosting your CV.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 9 - ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ɢᴀɴɢ

You dearly needed a girl's night with your friends after all what had happened. Law came to pick you up, yet got dragged into the chaos of a spontaneous party with your friends. Someone save this guy.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 10 - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇ? n.sfw)

This day should have been special, with you and Law celebrating your academic milestone together with friends and family. Yet, Laws private and closed off personality shots back at him, causing you to break down.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11 - ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ

It had been weeks since you had talked to Law, feeling drained from the past events. You needed time to figure the relationship out, which caused you to run away from talking completely and be confronted with a storm, none of you were ready to face.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12 - ɴᴇᴡ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (n.sfw)

Trying to mend the damage he had caused, Law makes an effort to open up to you this time. He shared pieces of his past, including hobbies he’d long buried. He never anticipated that attending Zoro’s Kendo tournament with you would reignite an old spark within him—or that it would stir a newfound desire to impress you.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 13 - ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴀʟʟɪᴇꜱ

Two unexpected intruders—familiar faces no less—show up at your door, shocked to find you inside. Hired to break into what turned out to be the wrong apartment, Kid and Killer aren’t prepared for your defiance. Mustering all the courage you have, you scare them off and waste no time alerting Law, who doesn’t take kindly to their mistake and pays them a visit.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 14 - ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ (n.sfw)

You call an emergency meeting with your friends to figure out how to deal with Law’s unhinged ex—who crossed the line by sending two punks to break into your home. The discussion quickly turns chaotic, with no real solution in sight. But amidst the frustration and tension, something shifts. The situation brings out a side of you that no one, not even you, had fully realized before.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 15 - ꜰʟᴇᴠᴀɴᴄᴇ

It was long overdue for you to properly meet his parents. Nerves were gnawing at you — the last time you’d seen them hadn’t ended well. Now was the time to make amends and finally get to know Law’s hometown.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, drinking, angst

A/n: This is my first ever piece of writing so please go easy on me. Since it is my first time writing and it is a series please be patient with me! I do intend of posting parts frequently, but I am also going on a 2 week holiday this weekend so i’ll try my best <3

‘Y/n are you nearly ready?’ My boyfriend shouted from the bathroom.

‘Almost’ I replied, shoving one of my gold hoops in my left earlobe piercing.

We were going to an ‘End of Summer’ party on the UCLA campus. One last blow out before the new school year began. My boyfriend, Alex, was in his Junior year of school there, majoring in Economics. I decided college wasn’t for me within the first couple months of my Senior year of High School, so following Alex wherever he went and picking up a shitty retail job for the foreseeable seemed to be the most logical thing for me to do at the time.

We stepped onto the packed UCLA campus. The summer heat was still present, even as the sun dipped below the horizon. I walked hand in hand with Alex, a touch I haven’t felt in a while. It felt nice to be shown off for once. Alex and I have been together for six years, but somewhere along the way, the spark that once was so strong in our relationship had dimmed, atleast in my eyes. I had been feeling a sense of detachment, it had been growing in my chest for months. It was a weird feeling, being present and absent at the same time. Being exhausted from trying to get what I knew I deserved out of the relationship and grieving the way we were in the beginning, hanging onto the thoughts of what could’ve been.

We never went on dates, the flirting had stopped, getting a compliment was very few and far between. The only time we would spend together was watching Netflix on the couch, so being invited along to this college party tonight struck me as effort on his behalf. I had begged him for months to make more of an effort with our relationship. So tonight, I promised myself I would try. For him, and for us.

“Want a drink?” Alex asked as he turned back to me, shouting over the music.

“Yeah, a vodka lemonade please ” I replied. He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. I stood near the door, pulling up the waistband on my high waist jeans out of awkwardness, scanning the room for a familiar face but recognizing no one.

As I took in my surroundings, my eyes caught a girl with dark brown hair, who seemed to be making her way towards me. She had a wide smile that seemed oddly familiar. It made me question myself if I had ever met her before. Before I could piece it together in my head, Alex reappeared with two red solo cups, handing one to me.

“Oh my god? Alex!” the girl called, her voice slightly screeching. Alex turned, and his face dropping before lighting up with a mix of surprise and joy.

“Emily?!” he exclaimed. They embraced in an enthusiastic hug - more affection shown to a random girl in 3 seconds than I had received in 3 months. A slight hit of jealousy got me.

“I knew it was you! What are you doing here?” The girl gushed, pulling back to look at him while both wrapped in each others arms.

“Wow, it’s been what, eight years?” Alex replied. “I’m majoring in Economics, what are you doing here?”

That’s when the penny dropped. Emily was Alex’s childhood best friend. I had heard multiple, multiple, stories about her over the years. They lived next door to each other since they were 3, until Emily and her family moved to Austin when they were 14, two years before Alex and I started dating. From this point on, I knew the relationship between them was strictly platonic, more of a brother/sister type of love.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! I’ve just transferred to here from TSU, I’m majoring in Economics too!” she wept with joy. “And who’s this? Is this the girl you post sometimes on Instagram?” Emily said as she pulled her focus on to me, my eyes nearly twitching at the word sometimes.

“This is Y/n, my girlfriend, we’ve been together six years now” Alex introduced us, as I flashed a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Emily” I said warmly, extending a hand. She shook it, giving me a sweet smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope” Emily joked, as I took a sip of my drink. It was stronger than I expected, “Definitely” I laughed while slightly wincing at the pungent wave of alcohol in my mouth. “Alex and I go way back. We were practically inseparable in elementary and middle school”

I nodded, as I knew I was about to listen to a relay of information i’ve already heard before. He had spoken of her often, his childhood best friend, lost to time and distance. Eight years apart, yet their bond seemed untouched. I watched as they fell into easy conversation, reminiscing about old times. Emily’s presence seemed to revive a part of Alex that I hadn’t seen in years. He was ecstatic, almost with a new sparkle in his eye, and his laughter seemed genuine. Although I knew they were friends it confused me how he couldn’t give this type of attention to his girlfriend.

I poured myself another drink as the two had made their way over to one of the couches in the living area so they could continue on their catch up. I sat physically on the arm of the two seater couch they were sharing. They shared memories about one of their middle school dances while I sat mentally in my own thoughts. I was really hoping tonight would rekindle a relationship of some form, not realising it wouldn’t be ours. Maybe i need to be a liiiiiittle more specific with this whole manifesting thing.

Eventually, Emily’s eyes met mine again. “Y/n, why don’t you join in, tell me one of your favourite memories with Alex!” she called out, trying to get me involved in the conversation. “I should have invited my boyfriend, Matt, he’s quite quiet like you too, you’d get on like a house on fire!” Emily exclaimed.

“Sorry the alcohol has gone to my head a bit faster than I thought it would” I said, trying to come up with a valid enough excuse to cover up why I’m not speaking.

I’m happy for Alex, I really am. I just wished this could have happened at a coffee shop or something, not when I’m trying to see if I can salvage something from our relationship.

Emily looked back to my boyfriend. “Al maybe you should get Y/n home if she’s feeling too drunk right now, we can organise a double date sometime this week to continue our catch up and we can introduce our partners to eachother!”

"That sounds like a great idea! I’ll DM you sometime tomorrow on Instagram.” Alex suggested.

I forced a nod. Somehow, pretending to be too drunk to get myself out of this situation has only landed me further into it. The idea of another couple entering our dynamic is both intriguing and daunting, maybe their relationship is like ours where it’s almost fizzled out? but what if I see they have an amazing relationship and it makes me resent mine even more.

Alex ordered us an Uber and we said our goodbyes to Emily, promising to arrange that double date soon. We weren’t walking hand in hand like we did when we entered the party. It made me feel as if there was something wrong with me. We both walked around separate sides of the Uber. I opened the door for myself and slid onto the back seat, leaning my head again the car window. Suddenly my phone lit up as I received a notification.

“Emily Johnson (@emmyjohns) has requested to follow you.”

I waited until we got home to accept the request, you know, trying to cling onto the whole too drunk to function act I had put on. Alex held my hand while walking up the stairs to our apartment, he must of fallen for my act too, since I was now getting attention again.

"Wasn't that great? I can't believe we ran into Emily" Alex says as he unlocked our front door.

“Yeah it was great to finally put a face to the name” I replied while I walk into our room to change into my PJs, leaving Alex in the kitchen.

He pours me a glass of water and sets it on my bedside locker before he gets into our bed. “Come join me” Alex whispers, gesturing at the free space beside him. “Let me brush my teeth first” I replied. If it’s one thing about me drunk, fake drunk or sober, my teeth are being brushed before I get into bed. Alex rolled his eyes at my response and by the time I finished in the bathroom he was out cold.

Shocker.

I turned off the lights in our room and slipped into bed beside him. I picked up my phone to check the time before I noticed a message on Instagram that came in 10 minutes ago.

“Hey girlie…”

a/n : sorry i’ve left a cliffhanger lol, we’ve met the idea of Matt but he’ll be fully introduced in the next chapter. I’ll post chapter 2 tomorrow bc I don’t want to leave it too long before properly introducing him.

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt333 @sturnfannn @chrissfavhoe @jayde510

[gallavichsreddie1128]

An Interesting Session (Hannibal)

Description: Y/N has a session with Hannibal that goes a completely different turn than what she’s expecting.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 2,115

Request:

Hey,

could you please write a Hannibal one-shot, where the reader was one of Will‘s best and favourite students. After a traumatic incident with a criminal out in the field, she needs to take a break, she starts to have therapy sessions with Hannibal and he takes a interest in her?(with smut?)

She stared at Will as he wrote down the name and the number of the therapist that he was recommending her too. It was her idea and Will understood completely. He too has had his fair shares of traumatic experiences with criminals. He almost didn’t want to send her over to him given what Will thinks about him but he promised himself that he would keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

She knew that the only way to cope with what she saw was to talk to someone that maybe could help her and Will was like a friend to her and she trusted him. “Here you go.” He handed her the paper, she looked at it and recognized the name, “Hannibal Lecter.” “You may have heard of him or even seen him.” He told her and she nodded. Yeah that’s what it is, this name was all too familiar to her. “Thank you.” She said and walked out of his classroom. 

She stared at the paper that Will gave her as it lay on her desk. She had no idea why but that name was familiar and she doesn’t recall seeing him. She grabbed her phone and entered the number before she could talk herself out of it. “Hello.” She sounded nervous as he answered the phone within 2 rings as if he was expecting her. “Hello, who am I speaking to?” He had a nice voice, a thick accident that she couldn’t place. She surely hadn’t heard him speak before.

“Hi uh my name is Y/N and Will Graham suggested you to me.” She told him. “Ah yes Will was telling me you would be calling.” Will told him about her? She didn’t have any words for that as she sat in silence. “Were you hoping to set up a session?” He asked and she nodded as if he could see her. “Yes.” She finally said, realizing her mistake. “I can do Wednesday at 11 am is that good?” He asked her. That was 2 days from now, that gave her plenty of time to prepare. “Yes.” She said and he chuckled, “See you then, Y/N.” He said before hanging up the phone. She sighed and put her phone down mentally cursing herself for being so nervous. 

It was Wednesday at 10:30 as she left her house and drove to his. Her GPS says that she should be there at 11:57. She didn’t wanna be late or too early so that was perfect. She couldn’t help but keep wandering back to the question of where she heard his name. She hadn’t met the guy at all nor heard him talk before the phone call. He seemed nice so she didn’t want to jump to any conclusion. She was so lost in thought she hadn’t realized how much time had passed and she was pulling up to his house.

Her eyes widened, this guy had to be rich. His house was huge and she saw the nice looking car, yeah he had money. She got out of the car and walked to the door. He had a doorbell but she decided to knock. She waited for him to come to the door, he opened it and she tried to keep her eyes from widening. He was very good looking but with the accident he has that was to be expected. “Hi you must be Y/N.” She nodded and he let her in. As they walked to his office that was upstairs she looked around at how big and perfect his house was. She wanted to ask about some of the art that was on the walls but her voice got caught in her throat.

He opened a door that revealed his office that was also nice. He motioned for her to take a seat and she did. Her body was stiff as she watched him sit down. He pulled out a notebook that she assumed was for notes and grabbed a pen. “Tell me Y/N what brings you here?” He asked her and she gulped. Should she start with the scene of the crime? Her mind wandered back to that day that brought her here. Will and her had come across a crime scene where the criminal was still there and he nearly got her killed. She shivered at the thought and was even more shook up that he wasn’t caught. Will thought she was ready for the bigger things but she thought she proved him wrong by that.

He told her that he reaction was normal to it but he was gonna let her rest awhile before bringing her onto another crime scene. As she told Hannibal all of the details she failed to notice him watching her with intense eyes as she spoke. Her hands moved as she talked, a habit she’s had since she was little but Hannibal took a liking to it. “Will tells me you are his best student.” He informs her and that brings a smile to her face. “He’s my favorite teacher.” she told him and he wrote that down. “How old are you, y/n?” He asked her and the question kind of took her off guard. “25.” She told him and he nodded before writing that down. “Have you ever been with an older man before?” What the hell did that have to do with her problems? She looked at him a little shocked that he would even ask that. “What does that have to do with the issue I have?” She almost seemed offended even if she did find him attractive.

“You don’t have an issue. Your reaction was normal. You just need a break from the crime scenes for now.” He told her and stood up. She stood up as well, thinking that the session was over but little did she know it was far from it. “You never answered my question.” He stated and it seemed as if he was trying to get closer to her. She wasn’t sure why he was so curious. “Is there a reason you want to know that?” He chuckled, “Ah yes a question to another question.” He was a foot away from her now and she felt like the temperature in the room had gone up a lot. “No I haven’t but I don’t see how that’s important.” She says and he inches closer but she doesn’t back away. She couldn’t even if she wanted to given the chair behind her.

“I think I have a way to take your mind off your stress.” He tells her and telling by the way his body language is she has a good idea of what it could be. “What’s that?” She asked as they were inches apart. He was tall compared to her but yet it still felt like they were almost face to face. “Care if I show you?” He asked and she nodded before his lips were on hers. She was in a state of shock but arousal was all through her body. She felt so warm and turned on as their lips moved together. She moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck standing on her tippy toes to deepen the kiss. What was gotten into her? She thinks as she kisses him harder. She wasn’t usually like this but there was something about him that was making her go crazy.

He grabbed her thighs and she jumped up wrapping her legs around him as they continued kissing. He pushed her against the wall deepening the kiss. Her hands went to his nice hair to mess it up. They finally pulled away to breath but he moved to her neck. She whimpered, feeling his lips suck on her neck, marking her. “Hannibal.” She whispered as he kissed back up her neck. “You’re very beautiful and I intend to take advantage of that.” He whispers before kissing her again. Her hands gripped his shoulders as he grinding his clothed dick against her. “Oh fuck.” She whispered as she could feel how big he was.

Dry humping was never her thing but she was so turned on right now she was taking what she could get. “I can feel how wet you are.” She was definitely soaked and it was enough to be through her clothes by now. He let her down so he could unzip her jeans and feel the wetness. She gasped as she felt his finger gather up the wetness of her pussy before he pushed in a finger and she threw her head back against the wall before gasping. Just one finger would be enough to make her cum. “You’re very tight.” He chuckled and felt around her wetness. “And very wet.” She begged that he do something. Her hands tugged at his dress shirt and he chuckled, “What do you want, Y/N?” He asked her and she whimpered.

“I want you inside of me.” She begged. He loved how desperate she sounded and how she was getting wetter and wetter. He pulled out his finger and tasted her. She watched with wide eyes as he did this. It was so hot, seeing him moan around his finger because of how good she tasted. She quickly got rid of her shirt and pulled her jeans down. He chuckled and undressed as well but not as desperate. He couldn’t wait to get inside of her pussy but he loved teasing her. She was naked and waited for him to give her the time of her life but he took his time undressing. “Hannibal please.” She begged and he finally removed all of his clothes. She wasn’t sure exactly how old he was but he was way older than her and looked amazing.

His body was making her drool and oh his dick was bigger than she imagined but she wasn’t complaining. She was ready for him. He kissed her again making her lose all the thoughts she had just had before she jumped into his arms again. His hard dick was now raw against her wet pussy. She was so needy that she tried to take him inside of her and whined when she couldn’t find the right angle. He chuckled and pumped himself a few times before helping her. He groaned himself at her wet pussy squeezing around him. She was so tight and warm, he could live like this. Her hands squeezed his shoulders as a plea to start moving.

She tried to make her hips but his hands stopped that and he began thrusting. She nearly screamed and cried as she finally got what she wanted. From the second she heard his voice she would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it. Hannibal watched as her eyes rolled and thought back to how she sounded on the phone, he had no idea she would be like this and was begging for him. His name was all she knew and moans were the only sounds she was making. His pounds pounding her into the wall as she screamed yes over and over again. He leaned in and kissed her neck again, finding the sweet spot that would make her fall apart.

“Hannibal, this is so good.” She whined and clawed at his back. He groaned at the feeling but loved it and how she felt. He moved his hands to cup her boobs, letting her thrust against him. She squeaked as he played with her sensitive nipples. Her climax just around the corner. He pulled away from her neck to watch her fall apart as he felt her pussy go crazy around him. She was gonna cum and she could tell it was going to be the best orgasm. Her breathing picked up as she whined loudly as she came all over his dick. Her hips stuttered as she rode the waves of pleasure.

He hugged her close as he grunted in her ear and came inside of her. She sighed and whimpered as they came down from their highs. His hands squeezed her ass making her giggle and she pulled away. “That was nice.” She told him and gave him a quick kiss. She tried to get down from his arms but he wouldn’t let her, “I’m not done with you yet.” He tells her and carries her to his chair that he was sitting in. He sat down with her on top and she got a look at what was on his desk. He had a file of the crime that she was at. She gasped as it finally clicked in her head where she had heard his name… Will thinks he did it.                                                            

[taesanrot]

[soothe] taesan x f!reader | 1.9k words established relationship, body worshipper!taesan, office worker!taesan, fluff and mostly smut note. this is kinda new territory for meeee thank u to anon who requested this <333 i had fun writing this and imagining taesan as a little office worker

as a manager at his company, taesan typically had his plate full no matter what day it was. for some reason though, today was exceptionally taxing on him.

fingers typing away mindlessly at an email to his higher up, taesan couldn't help but daydream about ditching in the middle of his shift and driving home with the windows down, letting the wind mess up his hair. he thought about how nice it would be to come home to you.

taesan checked the time; it was only 11:30 in the morning. your work hours were a bit more flexible since you worked from home, you were probably showering and getting yourself ready to log in.

screwing his eyes shut, he shuddered at the way his mind wandered to you under the hot water.

you always turned the water a little too hot before stepping in, letting out a little yelp before fixing the temperature. he imagined the suds running down your shoulders and down the curves and ridges of your body, the thought almost making him throw his head back against his chair.

fuck.

taesan usually tried not to think of you at work, especially you showering or changing. it always got him so worked up and made waiting for the end of his work day even more unbearable.

chewing the inside of his cheek, taesan grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text message, a cute little picture of him at his desk.

you opened it within a minute and sent a picture back. taesan held his breath as he clicked the notification open. smiling softly, he took in the sight of you.

you were perched in your desk chair with your legs crossed, sipping a cup of coffee you probably just brewed in your shared kitchen.

taesan wished you knew what you did to him. while the thought of you drove him crazy and kept him all pent up, it also calmed him down and soothed his nerves like no drug ever could.

locking his phone and looking back at his work, taesan groaned. it was going to be a long afternoon.

[...]

pushing your glasses up your nose, you typed away at your desktop computer, sitting criss crossed in your desk chair. the last rays of the evening sun shone through the window of your and taesan's shared apartment.

yawning, you leaned back and stretched out your arms and shoulders, groaning slightly. your coffee from this morning was now cold, you decided to take a break and reheat the rest of it.

grabbing the mug and walking over to the kitchen, you placed it in the microwave and leant against the counter. as the microwaved beeped and your drink was warmed up, you heard the front door unlock and creak as it was pushed open.

you smiled and pulled your drink out of the microwave, waiting for your boyfriend to walk around the corner.

you heard a loud sigh and the sound of shoes and a bag hitting the ground and before you knew it, taesan appeared in front of you.

hair messy and tie loosened, the boy sighed in relief at the sight of you, the one he was waiting to come home to. he strided across the kitchen and into your arms, exhaling louding as he melted into you.

"i missed you." you blushed at how raspy your boyfriend sounded, the exhaustion evident in his tired voice.

taesan pressed his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his grip on you even more. your hands came up to rub circles along his spine, encouraged by the sounds of satisfaction that echoed into your skin.

after a minute, you attempted to pull away from him, remembering your coffee sitting on the table. taesan trapped you in his grip, molding himself to your body as if he was trying to bury himself under your skin.

"no" you laughed at his stubborn voice, calmly cooing at him.

"taesan, my coffe-" you were shushed by your clingy boyfriend as he walked the two of you over to the living room couch, keeping his arms wrapped around you the whole time.

"i'll make you some fresh coffee later." and with that, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, moving your legs so they rested on either side of his.

finally face to face with him again, you smiled at taesan's pouty lips. you brought a hand up to smooth down some of his messy hair, smiling at the way he practically melted into your touch.

his hand came up to intertwine with yours and he pulled it to his lips, placing a wet kiss on the back of your hands.

the loud smack made you giggle and taesan moved to your face, loudly pecking your cheeks and forehead and nose. he even kissed your eyelids, further egging on your laughter.

after he was satisfied with teasing you, taesan sighed and leaned further back against the couch, pulling you with him so your head rested in the crook of his neck.

you sighed in delight as you breathed in the scent of him. practically feeling the exhaustion radiate off of his body, your hands moved to undo his tie and take off his jacket.

taesan remained motionless, smiling at the way you doted on him so sweetly. no matter how hard or long any day at work was, he always felt at peace knowing he'd come back to you.

you who'd take care of him without a second question. you know he'd do the exact same for you, that if you asked him he'd rub out every knot in your body or clean every inch of the apartment for you.

left in his dress pants and shirt, you undid the top two buttons to relieve the pressure around his neck before going back to your previous position. taesan's arms snaked around your waist, hands loosely resting on your hips, and his eyes fluttered shut.

taesan shivered as he felt you breathe against the shell of his ear.

"do you want me to rub your back?" you asked tenderly. taesan pondered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.

"mmm, just wanna lay here with you." you smiled and got up from his lap, pushing his shoulders lightly so he could move to lay down across the couch.

you grabbed a small throw blanket from the ottoman nearby. turning back to walk towards the couch, you laughed at taesan's pouty face, arms outstreched towards you.

"you're like a cat, sani" you giggled before joining him on the couch, draping the blanket over the two of you. taesan wrapped his arms around you. breathing in happily, you listened to the sound of his heart beating as his warmth encased you.

taesan's hand moved up and down your sides, trying to memorize every ridge of your body with his fingertips.

you inhaled slightly as his hand ghosted over your boob, opening your eyes to look at his.

"can i?" taesan asks softly, smiling when he watches you nod mindlessly.

taesan dragged a finger down the valley of your breasts, watching the way chest moves with your shallow breaths. his hand trailed further down the front of your body, twisting the hem of your shirt and waiting for you to move your arms so he can take it off. you moved your body up so he can pull the article off of you, now left in your bra and sweatpants. you laid down on top of him and while taesan loves the sight of your boobs squished against his chest, he needed to be on top of you.

your boyfriend flipped the two of you so he was now hovering over you. he bit his lip at the sight of you, looking up at him with your doe eyes. your tongue came out to lick your lips and taesan almost saw stars.

he brought a hand to massage the skin of your right breast, palming your nipple over the cup of your bra. you closed your eyes and tilted your head back as he lowered his head to kiss the skin between your breasts. taesan's mouth moved up your left boob, teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and licked to his desire.

his mouth was warm against you, making you arch your back and push your chest into him. he responded to his immediately, taking the opportunity to slip a hand under you and unhook your bra.

bra discarded on the floor, taesan cupped your right boob and massaged it slowly, tweaking your nipple slightly. he peppered kisses along your chest, stopping to take your nipple in his mouth. you moaned at the way his tongue swirled around the bud, his hot breath making you shake underneath him.

his hands traveled downward to squeeze your hips, holding you down as you squirmed underneath him. running a hand through his hair, you tugged it slightly before tapping his chin lightly. breathless, your boyfriend looked up at you curiously. he received an answer as you pulled him up to be face to face with you.

taesan could read you like a book, he knew you wanted to kiss him from the way your fingers traced his neck and jaw. bringing a hand to curl around your neck, he let his lips meet yours, melting against them softly. you were more than eager, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into you.

as taesan sucked your bottom lip and stuck his tongue into your mouth, you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, tugging it slightly. you boyfriend chuckled above you, detached himself from your lips to pull his shirt off completely.

you sighed, finally being able to run your hands down his bare back. one hand moved into his hair to tug and massage his scalp as the other rubbed circles along his shoulders and spine. occasionally, you let your nails lightly scratch against his skin, just the way he liked it.

"that feels so good." taesan's voice rumbled into your skin as he rested his head on your chest, cheek pressed against the pulsing skin under which your heart was beating softly.

reaching back to pull the blanket back over the two of you, taesan snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your torso and waist and basking under your attention. nothing soothed him the way you did, the feeling of your palms and fingers against his bare skin filling up the cracks of exhaustion and frustration within him.

your hands slowed their movements, and your boyfriend looked up from your chest to see you snuggled into the couch's armrest, eyes shut. the boy smiled at the sight of you, shifting upwards so he could lay his head on the armrest beside yours.

you stirred slightly, and taesan wrapped at arm around you to pull you into his chest. he felt his heart bloom as you sleepily hugged him closer to you.

the apartment was almost completely dark now, only lit up by the dull glow of your computer screen. pressing your head into the crook of his neck, taesan felt like the luckiest man ever, falling asleep to the slow sounds of your breathing.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

WOLF BOY

when ao3 goes down, we write tumblr fic (edited version now on ao3 HERE lol)

i used the 15/11/24 @sterekdrabbles challenge for this. the prompt words were GREEN, REACH and SCATTER. i'm also tagging @sterekdrabblesgonelong as it's around 1K words and therefore definitely a drabble gone long lol.

it's a spark!stiles slash derek whump sort of affair, just so you know what you're reading xp

.

The dagger is almost within his reach—so very nearly grabbable.

Other than being eight years old in a hospital room with the smell of rotting flowers clinging to the back of his throat, Stiles doesn't think he's ever wanted anything more than this.

Again, Derek hacks out, “Just run, Stiles!”

Again, Stiles answers no—only this time, it's not with his voice but a yellow-green vine of pure light that extends from his fingertips as he pleads with each beat of his heart for the universe to help him, the tendrils stretching, stretching, then victoriously winding themselves around the handle of the blade. 

“Oh, shit,” he mutters, now with his actual voice, and then the vine of his will is pulling the knife flush into his grip. 

He looks up at the hunter, their face a billboard of surprise, before a shriek rips itself from her belly at the very same time Derek roars from where he's tethered and bound, the wolfsbane-laced chains melting further into his flesh as he tries in vain to once again break free.

Then the evil bastard is flinging herself at Stiles—and straight into the dagger aimed at her solar plexus that his light sends sailing across the cave, plunging it deep into her breast.

It might not be bullseye, but it does the trick.

As she drops to the dusty ground like a discarded ragdoll, the other two hunters' heads snap like whiplash to where Stiles is sprawled, a look of pure terror marring their faces.

The cowardly fuckers drop their weapons and scatter, leaving Stiles and Derek alone—other than the dead woman at their feet—in the large cave they'd dragged Derek into a few hours ago.

Derek's wrung out, and beaten down, but alive. 

At once, Stiles scrambles to his feet to get over to where the ʼwolf is chained up, almost falling back down again when his probably sprained ankle gives way beneath him. 

“Stop fucking hurting yourself,” Derek hisses, and for once in Stiles's insane life he wishes he could gnash his teeth and roar in response, and it have an effect that would be anything other than ridiculous. 

“Oh my god,” he protests instead. “I've just saved your offensively pretty ass with my new spark's apparently awesome Gio-Ju-ju, a-hole, so how ʼbout we be a little less sourwolf and a lot more gratefulwolf to ol’Stilesy boy here, hmm?” he sasses, finding the key to the padlock that's bolted to Derek's chains on the flat rock where his flashlight got dropped when confiscated by one of the hunters. 

Stiles feels petulant, and justified in that petulance as he discards the now unlocked padlock. Then he feels a little wrong-footed when Derek quietly mumbles, “Thank you,” because the guy sounds both in a considerable amount of pain and genuinely grateful to Stiles.

Stiles sighs and kneels down to start prizing the chains away from Derek's red-raw, still-smoking skin, the ʼwolf's forever-stoic face giving away nothing of the hurt he's obviously suffering at the cruel hands of the aconite still desperately trying to seep its way into his body.

“You don't have to do that for me, you know,” Stiles says carefully, hinting at Derek's display of endurance.

Derek's eyes flicker from mid-space to Stiles's face, and Stiles suddenly notices that their heads are actually dizzyingly close.

He swallows, and the sound of it echoes around the cave as if mocking him. 

The second he peels away the last link in the chain attached to Derek's skin, and before Derek can push him away, Stiles brings a hand to Derek's throat to feel for his pulse. 

When determined fingers find it, Derek's face does a thing that Stiles hasn't seen it do before; it's this combination of incredulous and vulnerable, and is so unprecedented, and so beautiful, that Stiles sort of wants to cry about it. 

“You can hear mine,” he superfluously reminds Derek, before saying what he really wants to. “It's not fair I don't get to know—that you're alive, I mean. Like, I know I can see it but… The tactile reassurance? That's, uh, you know, kind of nice, too.” 

Man, he spends way too much time with werewolves. 

Then, when he licks at his dry lips and Derek's pulse quickens under his fingertips, Stiles is so much more than simply placated.

Taking a steadying breath, he feels a million trillion miles away from anything even remotely resembling steady.

He studies Derek's face some more for confirmation of his suspicion, and finds something akin to bashful swimming amid the swirls of those gorgeous seafoam eyes.

Derek likes him back?

Stiles sinks his teeth into his bottom lip; Derek's pulse starts to race. 

Amazingly, it seems Stiles isn't alone in the want he feels deep in his gut, and as it grows and spreads to his extremities, his fingers and toes now tingling with it, he reckons he's maybe beaten-up and bleeding out and half-braindead enough to have the balls to actually do something about it. 

It must be biological, he thinks as he licks at his lips again, that his body somehow knows exactly what to do to hopefully get Derek to do exactly what Stiles wants him to—lick Stiles' lips for him, that is—without him making an actual fully-formed decision on the matter.

Although as soon as he's thinking that, the decision to kiss Derek is unequivocally made—even if it's going to get him shoved into the dirt for trying. 

He's about to lean in when one of Derek's already beginning-to-heal hands stops him by bracing his shoulder. 

“I can smell your pain, Stiles,” he says. “Let me help.”

Stiles tries not to smile as he lies through his teeth. “Hurts here, the most,” he murmurs, touching two fingers from the hand not at Derek's pulse to his bruised, bloody lips. He then curls the other hand further around the werewolf's neck, to hold on.

Derek starts to pant, and Stiles has to hold in a whine.

The werewolf sounds absolutely wrecked when he asks, “Do you have any idea what you're doing to me by wrapping your hand around my throat?”

Stiles's smile then brakes free and is wry as his wit as he answers, “I've been working hard to find out how to woo you for months now, big guy. What do you think?”

And when Derek lunges to crush Stiles's mouth with his own, teasing Stiles' lips apart with his hot, hot tongue and nipping at them with blunted canines, Stiles reckons he knows what it must feel like to howl. 

.

edited version now on ao3 HERE if you'd like to drop me a comment xp

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 11

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Burns, Discussion of suicidal thoughts (If this triggers you, PLEASE don't read it) and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

Azriel’s jaw was clenched and his fingers were trembling.

He was using all of his willpower to keep himself in check, forcing himself to keep still in his chair.

Every single instinct was screaming at him to get up, to reach out, to scoop Eira into his arms and get as far away from her sister as possible.

And he had to force himself to stay in his seat, reminding himself that Elain wasn’t a physical threat.

He felt his blood boiling at the sight of his mate in pain like this, every fibre of his being screaming at him to fix this. To take her as far away from her sister as he could.

His hands were still gripping hers, his shadows wrapped around her wrist like a comforting pressure. His eyes were trained on her, every inch of him attuned to his mate as she sat beside him, the sparks still dancing across her skin.

And it took all his control to keep himself from doing anything, to keep himself from just grabbing her and running and taking her somewhere far, far away from all of this.

No. He needed to stay calm, he reminded himself. He needed to control himself.

So he forced himself to sit there, his eyes still trained on Eira. He sat there, forcing himself to stay still, as his every instinct was screaming at him to do the opposite.

"I think we should retire," Rhys said carefully. "Emotions are running high."

Azriel heard his brother’s words, his eyes flickering over to him for a moment.

It was the understatement of the century. 

He could see the concern in Rhys’s eyes, even if the High Lord was doing a damn good job at hiding it. And he could see Nesta’s anger still churning in her eyes, even as she took a deep breath, restraining herself from outright yelling at her sister.

"I think that’s a good idea," Helion said, his eyes still on Eira.  "I'll have the kitchen send up lunch. We'll see you for dinner and dancing this evening?"

Azriel had the suspicion that they weren’t exactly going to partake in the dancing.

He had a feeling that they would be spending the evening locked in their rooms, wrapped up in each other’s arms and away from this mess.

He stood, pulling Eira up with him.

Eira didn’t resist as he pulled her up, her hand still gripped in his own, the sparks still dancing across her skin.

The others got up as well, chairs scraping against the floor as they stood, and a small part of Azriel couldn’t help but note the way that Elain still remained seated, her hands clenching into fists in her lap

For a moment, he considered just picking Eira up, hoisting her into his arms and carrying her out of the room. He wanted to, just so that she could rest and he could shield her from the world. He needed, to quiet the part of him that was demanding that he take her into the solitude of their room, where she would be safe from her sister.

He didn't. But he kept a hold of her hand as they silently made the trek back up to their room, the door closed behind them...and that was the moment as Eira broke apart.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Eira’s expression crumpled.

That anger, that fury that had been boiling within her, seemed to break. Her shoulders sagged, and her body started shaking, her breath hitching as her mouth opened, a small, broken sound escaping her as tears began forming in her eyes once again.

The lightning disappeared. Instead, he could see the grief on every line of her face as he hauled her into his arms when he managed a few steps backwards so they could sit down on that ugly marigold sofa, while his mate cried her eyes out, curled against him.

He held her close, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

His hands were gentle as he stroked her hair, his hold tight and protective as he wrapped his wings around her, shielding her from the world.

He held her as she cried, the sound of her small, broken sobs echoing in his ears, and his hold on her tightened.

He held her close, murmuring wordless sounds of comfort into her hair, as his fingers continued slowly stroking her hair.

Every small, broken sob that left her tore through Azriel like a blade, piercing him in the heart. He hated the sound, hated the way that her body was shaking, hated how shattered she seemed, hated that he had to see her like this.

But he kept stroking her hair, he held her close, his wings still enveloping them both.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to say, not as the sobs continued to wrack her body, as her body continued to tremble against him.

He held her close, murmuring words of comfort as she continued to cry, holding her tight like she might slip away if he dared to loosen his grip even by a little.

"I always wanted to be a mother. I would have loved our babies," she whispered.

His heart shattered.

His breath hitched, his entire body going stiff, as her words echoed in his ears.

She had spoken them quietly, her voice breaking as the words fell from her lips, and he could hear the grief and the anguish in her voice at her words.

He could feel his breath catch in his throat at the thought of their future children, their future family, that had been dashed before it had even had a chance to begin.

The image of that tiny little girl, with his eyes and her hair, with numerous freckles and delicate, fluttering, wings, flickered in front of his very eyes.

But the image shattered, the vision of what could have been disappearing as quickly as it had appeared, vanishing into nothing but air.

The thought hurt. It hurt imagining the family they could have had, imagining what their life together might have looked like, with their little children running around the house, their laughter echoing in his ears as their wings fluttered.

But that future was gone. It was gone, he knew, vanished into nothing but an empty void, never to be fulfilled. Not exactly like that. Not like it would have without Elain’s interference. 

Elain. Elain, who he used to think was kind, who he used to think was sweet and caring.

Elain, who had torn all their hopes for the future to pieces before they had even had a chance to take root, and who has broken his mate’s heart.

"We'll have babies," he whispered. "You'll be a mother."

It was a promise, it was an oath. 

It was everything he had ever wanted. 

They would have children. One day in the future, Eira would hold their children in her arms. 

He felt her breath hitch again as his words echoed in her ears, her body going still in his arms.

Her sobs had slowed down, her breathing still laboured and her body still shaking, but the sounds of her crying had at least mostly subsided.

But now, he felt her breath hitch as the words continued to hang in the air, a small shiver running through her entire frame.

"We will," he whispered, his voice firm and sure.

"And you'll be a wonderful mother," he continued, his heart breaking at the thought. "You'll be the best mother in the whole damn world, and I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way."

"We'll have those fat, rosy-cheeked babies you used to dream about," he whispered gently. "Little children with my eyes and your hair, with their laughter filling the entire house and their hands sticky with food, all over our clothes and our skin. But we'll still think they're the most wonderful thing in the entire world, and we'll love them unconditionally."

A small sob, almost a gasp, escaped her at his words, and her body began shaking again.

She was no longer crying, her previous tears no doubt having dried up, but her body was still trembling, with that grief and that anguish still thrumming through her system.

"She was so beautiful," Eira whispered.

Azriel’s breath caught again at her words.

He could see the image of their baby girl in his mind, so tiny and beautiful, her eyes so lovely, and his heart broke at the thought.

Grief and rage churned in his gut at the memory of that beautiful daughter, in that vision, that should never be.

"Of course she was," he whispered back, his own voice thick with emotion. "She would have looked like you."

His hands were gripping her now, holding her tightly.

His chest ached a deep, hollow ache where the beautiful future they should have had burned.

He had no words. Nothing that could even come close to making this better. Nothing that could erase the grief and anger that was churning through his veins at the thought of the beautiful little girl they would have had, the little family that they could have built, and how it had all been shattered before it could even begin.

The silence in the room was thick, only broken by the sound of her shaking breaths and his own heartbeat, as Azriel continued to hold her.

He kept his wings enveloping around her, keeping her safe within the semi-darkness, and his hands remained in her hair, the shadows still coiling around her in a comforting manner.

Finally, Eira pulled back and he lowered his wings...the others had given them privacy and had gone out on the balcony, though as soon as he lowered his wings, Rhys met his gaze as their family returned inside.

The sound of the door opening echoed in his ears, his eyes shifting from his mate to their friends as they stepped back inside the room.

Rhys met his eyes for a moment, a small flicker of sympathy in his friend’s expression as Azriel continued to hold his mate close.

"There is food laid out outside if you want any," Feyre broke the silence softly.

Azriel nodded, barely more than a dip of the head, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a small, grateful smile.

He had no appetite. The thought of food repulsed him now, especially since it didn’t feel like something he could handle keeping down. He could feel his stomach churning at the thought, an almost nausea churning through him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get anything down his throat even if he wanted to.

Eira rubbed over her face, wiping away her tears.

"If you don't want to come to tonight's dinner, you can stay here," Rhys said quietly. "Maybe it would even be for the best. Give everybody some time to calm down..."

Azriel felt a small wave of relief wash over him at Rhys’s words, and he felt his shoulders relax for a moment.

That was a good idea. That was a damn good idea, and he would not mind at all staying in the room for the night, with his mate by his side where no one would be able to hurt her. 

"You want to go?" he asked gently, reaching out with one hand to touch Eira's face and she shook her head, before she gasped, one hand shooting out to catch his hand.

Her face crumbled as she examined it and he stared down onto his own hand...the scarred skin...nearly charred in place. He hadn't even felt it.

His eyes widened slightly as he felt her grip on his hand. He had been so focused on her, on her tears and her anger, on her grief and her pain, that he hadn’t even noticed the burns that were now covering almost half of his hand and fingers.

His skin was blistered and raw, the flesh almost charred , and it was only now that she had pointed it out that he actually saw how bad it was.

"...I am so sorry," Eira whimpered. "I didn't want to...the lightning...I hit you..."

He had never seen such a look of anguish on her face, never seen her look so full of hurt and horror and remorse, and his heart broke all over again at the sight.

"You didn’t do anything, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It was an accident, that’s all. Don’t worry about it, Eira,  it’s alright…"

"It's not alright," she disagreed, her voice broken. "How can you say that? I burned you!"

"It wasn’t your fault, love," he said, trying to infuse his voice with reassurance. "You didn’t do it on purpose, you didn’t mean to, it was just an accident. I’m fine, really."

The last thing his precious mate should be doing was apologising for something completely out of her control.

"Let me see," Cassian said calmly.

Azriel didn’t want to let go of Eira, didn’t want to pull his hand away from her, but Cassian seemed surprisingly determined.

So he carefully extricated his burned hand from his mate’s grip and held it out for the his brother to see.

"Does it hurt?" his brother asked with a grimace. He just shook his head. At least the numbness was good for something for once.

The numbness made the whole ordeal a lot less painful than it could have been, and as he looked at his burned hand, he honestly thought that it wasn’t all that bad.

He’d dealt with a whole lot worse over the centuries, a lot worse, and he had suffered so much pain in his life that this hardly even registered at this point.

He would rather go through the pain of more burns than not give Eira even just a modicum of comfort. 

"We'll put some burn cream on that and wrap it up," Cassian said easily, after turning Azriel’s hand over and looking at it. "He had worse, Eira," he promised his mate.

Eira was still watching his burned hand, her eyes filled with pain and guilt, and she was chewing on her bottom lip as she looked at the red, blistered flesh on his hand. She didn’t look at all consoled, and her expression was still filled with that guilt and that anguish, and he could practically see the thoughts running through her mind at the moment.

“I didn’t mean to,” she repeated weakly. 

"I know, sweetheart, I know," he said gently as gently as he could. "You didn’t mean to, and you were upset, completely understandably so. We know you didn’t want this, and there’s nothing to apologise for. You didn’t do anything wrong."

He wanted to take her hands into his, but his burned hand was still on display, so he settled for stroking her cheek instead.

"You did very well in controlling your lightning," Rhys said quietly. "I expected much worse, to be honest,” he admitted drily. 

Cassian just nodded in agreement. “You didn’t even torch any furniture!”

Azriel chuckled a little, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards in a weak smile.

It had been in the back of his mind as well. He had fully expected her powers to cause just a little bit more….destruction than just a slight singe to his skin.

"This isn't funny," Eira said, her voice breaking, even as the shadows appeared with wrapping and burn cream that they handed to her.

She snatched the wrapping and the burn cream from the shadows, and Azriel’s smile instantly vanished as he saw her expression.

She still looked tortured , still looked heartbroken.

"May...May I...." her voice was broken.

"Of course, Sweetheart," he said gently, his voice soft as he held his burned hand out towards her.

His heart clenched again, as she took his hand and began spreading the cream over his skin, her own fingers trembling slightly as she continued to work. Her touch was so gentle, so soft, and she was clearly trying her hardest not to hurt him any more than she had already done, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t feel it anyway. 

Her guilt was written all over her face. 

“It’s not funny,” Feyre agreed with a sigh. 

"I don't think anyone is pretending that what just happened was funny," Azriel said quietly, still watching as his mate tended to his burnt hand.

It wasn’t funny. None of what had happened with Elain was funny in the slightest. 

"We're just...surprised that you had as much control over your powers as you did," Rhys said quietly. "And impressed, honestly. It could have easily been much worse than a few burned fingers."

Azriel nodded. Somehow, miraculously, Eira had managed to control her powers even as that grief and that anger overwhelmed her. It was a testament to her strength, and to how much she did care about him and the others if she had managed to keep as much control over her powers as she had.

He knew she hadn’t lost control at all - she was clearly still completely aware of her actions, and he had seen it the moment that she had started to become more and more upset, she had stopped the lightning when she had burned his hand.

She stopped with the cream, wrapping his hand in the length of linen the shadows had brought her.

She was being incredibly careful as she carefully wrapped the linen around his hand, her touch so gentle and soft, as if she was afraid of hurting him.

Azriel smiled weakly at her, trying to send some sort of comfort her way, and as she finally tied the last knot, he lifted his now bandaged hand and squeezed her fingers gently.

"Thank you, Sweetheart," he said gently.

He wanted to add something more, to assure her once again that she had nothing to feel guilty over, but the words stuck in his throat, and he was unable to say anymore.

He just kept looking into her eyes, trying to tell her with simply his gaze that he didn’t blame her in the slightest for what had happened.

He could still see the guilt written all over her face, that grief and that pain still in her eyes, but he could also see the love, the care, as she looked at him, and he reached up with his uninjured hand to gently cup her cheek.

He hoped she was starting to feel better, starting to understand that he didn’t blame her for anything, that he didn’t care if she had accidentally burned his hand, that it was the least of his worries at the moment.

"Are you going to be alright if we leave you here?" Rhys asked, his eyes flickering to Eira.

Azriel tightened his grip on her fingers, hoping to comfort her, and she jerked her head in a nod, finally returning her attention to the others.

It was a jerky, weak movement, that shaky nod and his heart ached at the sight of it.

He hated seeing her like this — so fragile, so hurt, and every instinct in his body was screaming at him to just pull her into his arms and keep her there.

He had never been particularly good with words, not like Rhys or Cassian or Feyre — Hell, he couldn’t express his feelings at all most of the time and he wasn’t any good at comforting people either.

But right now all he wanted to do was just hold her, to be able to make her feel at least a little better after...after everything that had happened today.

His heart clenched again, at the memory of that beautiful image of the family they could have had, but he pushed the thought aside quickly, as he had done all day.

No, he would not think about what could have been.

Right now, he only wanted to focus on what was in front of him, here, with Eira.

***

She felt awful.

Every time she looked at Azriel's burned hand, the sight of the white bandage made her insides twist, a wave of nausea washing over her.

There was a horrible, heavy weight in her stomach, and guilt still choked her, no matter how much he tried to assure her that it was an accident, that it was not her fault.

It was her fault. She had hurt him. Even when she hadn't done it on purpose, she still had hurt him.

He was her mate. They were supposed to be each other’s rock, supposed to provide a comfort and a safe place for one another, and yet here she had burned him. Eira felt tears welling in her eyes again, the weight in her stomach almost crushing her.

Azriel didn’t blame her, tried to comfort her and tell her he wasn’t upset, that his burned hand didn’t bother him at all, but that just made her feel worse.

He had been hurt, he had been injured, and yet he didn’t care, and she just didn't understand why, she didn't get how he could just pretend like that didn't even matter.

"Eira, I don't even feel it," Azriel said quietly, as she fussed with the wrapping again. "My hands are pretty much numb on a good day.”

It were just the two of them, Rhys, Feyre, Cassian and Nesta down at whatever Dinner and Dancing thing Helion was throwing the night before Elain and Lucien’s wedding.

Just the two of them.

The shadows had procured a tray out of cheese, bread and cut meats for dinner, but neither had even looked at it yet.

She was still picking at the end of the wrapping she had tied around his hand, making sure that it was perfect, and she was not looking at him, too ashamed of herself to meet his eyes, knowing that if she looked at him she would probably burst into tears again.

Hearing his words, she felt a wave of pain hit her once more.

It was bad enough that she had hurt him, but to hear him say that he could barely even feel it…

"I am sorry," she apologised again, her voice weak. "I just got so...angry."

"You don’t have to keep apologising," he said gently, his voice still soft, as always.

She winced, still fiddling with the wrapping, still trying to make sure it was as perfect as she could possibly make it, even though she knew that he wasn’t even in pain, that the burn probably wasn’t even bothering him.

It hurt her just to think about it, knowing that he had suffered because of her…

“Eira, I’ll take a burned hand anyway if me holding your hand comforted you in any way,” he told her seriously. She swallowed. 

Master will be fine, the shadows whispered. It will be fine. 

She hoped it would be. She wished desperately it would be. 

She returned to sit down next to him, hesitantly holding his other hand, the one that she hadn’t burned and he squeezed hers in response, not for one moment seemingly hesitation to touch her, even when she had just shown him that she could hurt him. 

"Can I…Can I ask you a question?" Azriel asked her, his voice hesitant.

Her body froze for a moment. She didn’t look at him, still feeling too ashamed of herself to meet his gaze, but she just nodded.

"Of course," she responded. “What is it?”

"You said that you stuffed your ears with cotton wool for the better part of 2 years so you could sleep," Azriel said quietly.

Her fingers froze again, her heartbeat speeding up slightly, and she finally forced herself to look at him, her breaths getting a little shorter as he mentioned her sleeping habits.

She didn’t like having that particular topic brought up, didn’t like talking about the fact that she couldn’t sleep for months without muffling the world around her first.

It wasn’t a question, but she knew what he meant. 

"...I hear so much more now than I ever did as a human," Eira explained quietly. "The...adjustment period was difficult." That was an understatement.

"It must have been hard for you," he said softly.

She looked up at him. His expression was gentle as he looked at her, his eyes holding nothing but sympathy and care.

He didn’t look at all judgmental, he just looked concerned, like he wanted to know more, like he wanted to understand her, and it was that expression in his eyes, the care and the kindness, that made her heart clench.

"It's nothing," she waved him off, but Azriel kept hold of her hand.

"It's not nothing," Azriel disagreed. "Getting thrown into that cauldron was traumatic for you, Eira. It's alright if you aren't over it yet."

She shivered, the memory of being thrown into the cauldron rising up in her mind.

Pain, fire, darkness. She had been in a living nightmare, and as much as she had tried, as much as she had tried to forget about it, she could still feel it, could still feel that same pain as if she was right back in that cauldron all over again.

"I didn't adjust better than Elain or Nesta," Eira finally said quietly. "I didn't have visions. I didn't have death crawling under my skin. But I...the only reason I functioned was for them."

He squeezed her fingers gently as she spoke, listening to her quietly.

She kept going, the words pouring out of her like a waterfall as she spoke.

"I couldn't just...sit around all day and be, I had to be doing something, I had to be helping, I had to keep going because that's all I had," she said shakily, her breaths getting faster. "It felt like I was going out of my mind all the time, I needed to be useful, I needed to do something. If I didn't...if I didn't...then I...."

"What happened then?" Azriel asked quietly.

Her breathing was speeding up now, that awful twisting feeling in her stomach coming back in full force, as she thought about those months just after being made.

"It was bad," she whispered. "It was bad. Everything seemed like too much and not enough at the same time. It didn't matter, what I wore, it felt like sandpaper against my skin. Everything was too loud. Every food was too much. Everything was..." she trailed off.

"Overwhelming?" Azriel offered gently.

She just nodded at his words.

It had been overwhelming, every single damn thing overloading her senses, every sound, every sight, every taste, every single emotion.

She couldn't shut it all out, couldn't block everything away until it stopped hurting, and that had been the worst part.

"I hid underneath the bed. Or in the bathing chamber. Or in the closet," she admitted ashamedly. "Everywhere where it was small and dark and quiet. And then I sat down and I rocked back and forth like a child and hummed so I didn't need to hear anything else. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to exist. I wanted to crawl into a hole and..."

She stopped, her words choking off, but she knew that Azrael could guess what she had wanted to say.

He knew that she had wanted to die, in those dark moments after she had been made, she had wanted to just crawl into a hole and let the world forget about her, she had wanted to just disappear and never come back.

"I didn't want to be Fae," she said weakly. "I...I wanted to be human. I didn't want pointy ears or immeasurable power. I wanted a husband and children."

That was exactly what she had wanted — a husband, children, and a normal, peaceful life, without power and magic and a strange, immortal body.

But what she wanted didn’t matter, it never had mattered, and she had been made into a Fae anyway.

Everything she had wanted, all the dreams and wishes she had had as a humanity, had all been snatched away from her the moment she had been thrown into the cauldron.

Just gone, just taken, and there was nothing she could do to get it back.

"You wanted to have a normal life," he said quietly.

She shrugged. 

“I thought that was all I could have,” she responded weakly.  "I always thought I wanted a normal husband. And then...then you walked into that dining room and suddenly all I wanted was this handsome man with wings sprouting out of his back."

A small smile tugged at his lips at her words.

He didn’t say anything, just watched her with a small, affectionate smile, and his gaze was gentle as he looked at her as if he understood everything she was feeling just by holding her like this.

"Is it better now?" he asked her quietly.

She shrugged. "I don't want to throw myself from the balcony any longer or cut off my ears, so yes," she admitted weakly.

He let out a quiet exhale at her words, and she could feel the slight tension in his muscles as if just the thought of her hurting herself was hurting him.

Without saying anything, he pulled her close, wrapping both his arms around her and holding her against his chest.

"You wanted to do that." It wasn't a question. 

She could feel the tension in his muscles as he said that, and she buried her face into his chest.

"I know it's ridiculous," she whispered. "All of you have survived so much worse and there was I and I just...but I didn't want this. I never wanted to fight, to be a warrior..."

He closed his eyes, resting their foreheads together and his lips brushed over hers in a soft, aching kiss.

"It's not ridiculous," he told her quietly.

He wrapped his arms around her tighter as she spoke, one of his hands running through her hair as if trying to soothe her.

"You were forced into a world you never wanted," he said, his voice soft. "You didn’t ask for any of this."

"I tried to find the positive. I tried to...At the start, I told myself that...I couldn't have you as a human, but maybe as a fae...That maybe that was the reason why the cauldron hadn't outright murdered me,” she admitted weakly. 

"Gods, Sweetheart," he grounded out. "I am so sorry."

"It’s not your fault," she whispered, her voice shaky as she buried her face in his chest again.

She hated feeling like this — vulnerable and weak, and for what? Because being made into a fae had hurt her feelings? It all seemed so damn stupid.

He just shook his head, his arms tightening around her again.

She felt safe in his arms like nothing could hurt her here, and a part of her wished she could stay right here, tucked away in his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

"And what did you tell yourself when you thought it was never going to happen between us?" he asked her weakly. "What did you tell yourself then, Eira?"

"Feyre had enough other things to worry about, I didn't want to add to that," she admitted weakly. "I didn't want to hurt her. Hurt Nesta or Elain."

His hand froze in her hair, and she could hear him taking a slow, measured breath as if he were trying to keep himself calm.

He didn't say anything, just sat there holding her, and she could feel the muscles in his arms, still wrapped around her, tensing up, as if he was refraining himself from holding her even tighter.

"I wasn't really gonna do it," she said weakly. "I didn't want to bother anybody just because I couldn’t adjust. And it did get better. I still have bad days, but it's not as bad as it used to be."

He kept his eyes closed, burying his face in her hair as he just held her. She could feel his body shaking against her, if only very weakly, and his breaths were shaky and uneven, and guilt flared up in her chest again.

"I am sorry," she apologised. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Gods, Eira," Azriel said, his voice like gravel. "My mate just told me that she thought that throwing herself off a balcony or cutting off her ears seemed like a fucking solution at one point, and you are apologising for hurting me?" he asked her, shaking his head as he looked at her. 

“I could have lost you before I even…before I even got to have this with you,” he said, his voice broken, cupping his cheek, resting his forehead against hers. 

"I wouldn't have done it," she said weakly.

"You don't have to apologise for anything," Azriel said, his voice still a wreck as he spoke.

He tightened his arms around her again, holding her so tight against his chest that it was almost painful.

"You didn’t do anything wrong," he said softly. "You didn’t have a choice, and I...gods, Eira. I am so, so sorry. I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, that I didn't notice you."

The raw emotion in his voice made her chest ache, and a lump rose in her throat.

She didn’t want him to feel guilty for any of this, but the way he spoke, the way he held her so tightly like he was scared she would disappear the moment he let go...there was no doubt that he blamed himself.

"...It's not you're fault," she whispered, finally bringing her own arms up to wrap around him, holding onto him just as tightly.

He just shook his head, refusing to listen to her, pulling her as close to him as he possibly could, his hands shaking from how tightly he was holding her as if he was scared that she would disappear the moment he let go of her.

"I am sorry," he murmured, his voice just a broken whisper, his arms tight around her.

She could feel him shaking against her, his breaths still unsteady, and the only thing she wanted to do right now was to take away his pain, to give him some sort of comfort, but she didn't even know how she was supposed to do that.

"Azriel," she said quietly, reaching up with a hand to cup his cheek.

He closed his eyes, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she touched him, and she gently turned his face so he was looking at her again, and the aching grief and guilt in his eyes made her chest ache.

"I am better now," she promised him. "I will not do any of these things. I swear."

He let out another shaky exhale, his eyes finally opening again. "You won't," he said firmly, not a question, but a statement.

He moved a hand, gently cradling her face in his palm as he looked at her. Her skin tingled where he touched her, and she leaned into his touch almost involuntarily.

"Promise me," he said gently, his voice aching. "Promise me that you won't do anything to hurt yourself."

He held her gaze as he spoke, his eyes shining with a strange, fierce desperation, and she couldn't even dream of refusing him as he looked at her like that.

"...I promise," she whispered.

His expression eased slightly at her words, and he let out a long, shaky exhale, burying his face back in her hair again, still holding her tight against him.

"I am better now," she promised. "I have bad days, but I don't want to do any of this anymore."

"The next time you have a bad day, you come to me. Or to somebody else. You'll tell us," he demanded quietly.

She closed her eyes, burrowing her face in his chest again, unable to look at the almost desperate expression in his eyes.

She should have expected that he would demand something like this, would demand of her that she wouldn't just...keep everything to herself, that she wouldn't just try to deal with it alone, but the fact that he was begging her, that he was almost pleading with her like this…

"Only if you do the same," she whispered.

He paused for a moment, just holding her against him again, and she could feel the tension in his muscles, still wrapped around her, still so close and tight. He was silent for several long moments, almost long enough to make her think he would refuse, and then he finally spoke.

"...Alright," he whispered. "I promise I will."

[bamsywrites]

And Comes Dawn pt 11

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader

Summary: The Deciever has a question for his Sweet One.

Tags: fluff. Like FLUFF. He may be deranged but he's got a soft spot. Also, told you I was gonna make the Annatar bow angsty.

Notes: the fic is out of order now because I have a lot going on and ITS MY FIC OK OK. Not having to have everything in order has given me so much inspo that within the next 24 hours there could be 2 more parts and 2 other things too soo. I love you all. Thank you for your support. My dms and inbox are always open, also if you wanna give me like a lil tip it would be appreciated.

Halbrand leaned against the archway to the library and watched you as you read through the scrolls and histories. It's how you'd spent your days since coming to Eregion. He worked on the elven rings, and you were here, reading. It was endearing to him that you sought knowledge in such a way. Proof that he had made the right choice in you.

There had to be three. Just as there had to be three rings.

Him with his power and darkness.

Galadriel with her wisdom and light.

You with your goodness and warmth to balance them out.

Three.

Though, he only desired you. Only loved you. You were what he was doing all this for. He had to create a lasting peace. He had to make Middle Earth safe and perfect. He had to overcome this pesky issue of your mortality. He could not allow you to live in a broken world. He would not allow you to come to harm, and, selfishly, perhaps, he could not let you die. The rings were for you. His ambitions and goals revolved around you.

All for you.

At least, that is what he made himself believe. If he was truly honest, he had different motives as well. Motives of power and control. Motives that would have driven him down this path if you'd never met. His deception was so great that he was able to hide that away. He was able to believe the ends justified the means. And if you were what was at the end, there was no depravity he could not justify.

Watching you now, you were breathtaking with your eyes focused and strands of hair falling in your face. You'd taken full advantage of the beautiful wardrobe and styles of the elves. Intricate, delicate strands of silver were braided through your hair. You wore a dress of light blue with more silver, and the delicate chains only served to accentuate your curves. He had thought you were beautiful in the Numenorian garb, but now you looked stunning. Breathtaking. He'd seen the most beautiful of the elves, the Silmarils, the light of creation. Yet you were greater than them all.

“I know you're there,” you spoke, the ghost of a smile playing at your lips, but your eyes never moved from the page.

“And yet you stare only at your books. My heart can not help but break.” He teased. “I will not be shamed for staring at the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.”

He smirked at your blush, approaching you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. He noticed that the back half of your hair was pulled up and tied into a bow. He chuckled softly and rested his chin on your shoulder. “What do you read now?”

“A tale of a human and elf falling in love,” you relaxed into his embrace.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, your neck, up to your cheek before turning your head so he could capture your lips in a soft kiss. “Last week, it was the fall of elven cities. This week, it's romance. You never cease to amaze me.”

“You are easily amazed, then.”

“Do not doubt yourself, sweet one.” He pressed a kiss to your nose, turning you around in his arms and lifting you to sit on the edge of the table. “I am in awe of you always, but recently, I'm in awe of these things you do with your hair. A bow?” He teased softly, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Do you not like it,” The way you looked up at him, seeking his approval, it mirrored the expression you wore when you were on your knees begging for him. His fingers tightened on your hips, restraining from taking you on the table.

“I do. It suits you.” He smiles softly, his eyes softening as he sees your bright smile.

“Perhaps you could grow your hair, and I can do it to you. I've seen elves of all kind wear it,” there was an excitement to your voice as you spoke.

He chuckled, “Perhaps one day, if we are parted, I will wear it as a reminder of you when my heart yearns for you.”

“You jest.”

“I do no such thing. You have plenty of things to remember me by,” his fingers traveled down to the intricate necklace of copper he'd made for you at the forge in Numenor. You always wore it. “I shall have the hair bow.”

You frowned, and his thumb traced the downward turn of your lips, his head tilted in a silent question. “Perhaps if I were to have more coin, I could get you something. Perhaps…”

Your words were muffled as he pressed a kiss to your lips. His hands held your face as he deepened it. It was only when he felt his body react that he pulled away. His nose brushed yours. “You have given me more than enough.”

You smiled up at him, face flushed and lips swollen. His thumb gently caressed your cheeks.

“I don't intend to ever be parted from you,” he whispered softly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “I mean it.”

He pulled away, searching his pockets for a moment before pulling out a ring. It had a silver band and a small blue gem at the center. He knew it was more than a simple band. He knew of the power he placed in it. The materials he snuck from the forge to add to it. It would need to be perfected in time to come, but for now, it would do what he needed it to. It would increase your lifespan, heal your wounds faster, and It created a connection with him, wherever you were.

It also served as a symbol. That you were his. That his feelings for you were real. His intentions were true.

He looked at it for a moment before looking at you. “ In elven culture, it's customary to give your betrothed a silver ring that you wear until marriage. At that time, they were traded for gold bands. I added a bit more. A gem as blue as the waters that brought us together.”

You gasped softly, looking at the ring and then to him.

“It's the custom of your people to ask the family but you have none. The family who warded you is gone as well. I have no one to ask for your hand but you. As such, I felt that I should give you the same proposal in which I would have given your father.”

He stood up straight, one hand on your chin directing you to look at him. “You fill me with a warmth I've never known. I no longer know who I am if not with you. I was lost and astray, without hope or purpose. It was as if the gods themselves put you on my path. You are a beacon of hope, your smile my purpose. There is nothing I would not do for you, no trial I would not face. I love you. I adore you. I have never thought of children until I met you, and now I know I want to make you a mother. I want to make you my wife.”

He brushed away a tear that had fallen from your eyes, “I give you the choice, I would never force anything upon you. Do you want that? Do you want me?” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “Fuck, I'm so nervous I can't talk. Just tell me, yes or no? Will you marry me?”

You laughed, nodding your head. He slid the ring onto your finger before lifting you and twirling you around. As he set you down, you looked at the ring on your finger.

“I never thought I'd be betrothed. I never thought I'd choose who I could marry.” You smiled up at him, and it filled him with joy unimaginable.

“I never thought I'd give a woman a romantic speech or truly want to settle down.” He rested his forehead against yours once more. “I'm a changed man thanks to you. Near unrecognizable to that drifter on the raft.”

“That is true. You will be a king soon.” You gasped suddenly as a realization dawned on you. “ I'm going to be a queen. Me? A queen” you laughed softly at the thought.

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “That is true. As soon as my business here is done, we can return to the southlands and be wed, and you can meet all your subjects.”

You wrinkled your nose, “I'm not sure I like the thought of having subjects.”

“Of course you don't, “ he rolled his eyes but didn't stop smiling. “Why don't we go back to our chambers, and I can show you how devoted of a subject I am?”

Your cheeks turned red, and you buried your face in his neck. He placed a kiss on your head, “I'll kneel and worship my queen.”

“Halbrand,” you spoke, pulling back and giving him a look.

“I'll fill you with my warmth.”

"Stop it!” You smacked his arm,causing him to laugh deeply and wrap his arms around you for a tight hug.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (15/18)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: With the rut drawing to a close, you and Sylus look to the future for what this means for you both.

Content Warnings: Adult language. Minor breeding kink. P in V.

Length: 3k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (16) (17) (18)

Read on AO3

You soon realized that dragon ruts were not for the faint of heart. The next week of your life was the most exhausted you had ever been. Every single day, multiple times a day, Sylus found you wherever you were and fucked you within an inch of your life. He had cooled off a little, able to push aside the lustful haze to offer you some respite the longer it went on.

But that first day had been the most feral he had gotten. You hadn’t left the hoard room until late into the evening and that was just because you absolutely needed more food than what he scrounged up from the kitchen between rounds. Thankfully the entire rut didn’t need to take place in the hoard room so you at least got the cushion of the bed back to make things a little more comfortable.

You were also shocked at how sweet he was during the whole thing. Despite how rough things got and how filthy he spoke, he would always be there to help ease you back down. And if you really didn’t want to have sex, if you were just too sore for anymore he didn’t push you.

In between rounds you’d lay together and talk about what your future child was going to be like. “And you’re sure I’m not going to end up laying an egg?”

Sylus chuckled. “Yes. You won’t lay an egg.”

“But the woman who birthed you--”

“Was cursed and her womb magically altered to be able to lay a dragon egg. You are not cursed and because I am at least half human you should have a normal live birth.” Sylus assured you, “Although, the state of the baby is uncertain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I was born I looked almost entirely human except for my eyes and as I got older the scales and tail and horns grew in. The children will most likely be the same way. But I do not know what all they may grow. Some might have horns and tails and wings and scales, others may not. Maybe one grows horns and scales but no tail. Maybe another grows wings but no claws. I cannot say for sure.”

“At least I don’t have to worry about little claws or horns complicating things when they come out.” you touched your stomach. You looked back at him. “Do you want to try one more time?”

His smile sharpened. “You bounced back quick this time. Alright then, come here.” He sat up in the bed. He pulled you across his lap, your back pressed to his chest.

He receded the armor around his hands with a small groan. “Sylus, I know it hurts you don’t have to--”

“I want to be able to play with your pussy a little before hand. The pain is temporary and not important.” he dipped his now clawless hand between your legs, the soft pad of his fingers swirling over your clit.

You reclined your head back on his shoulder as little blips of pleasure heated your body. “That’s it,” he said, “Always so responsive to me.”

He removed his hand from your pussy and sucked the juices from his fingers. You whined at the loss but you only got a dark chuckle in response. “Do not worry, little bird. You’ll get my hand and much more back in a minute. But right now, I need you to do something.”

He caressed your arms and lifted them up and behind you before curling them around his horns. “Hold onto these while I play with you and do not let go. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” he sighed, feeling how tightly you were gripping his horns.

You thought he was going to go back to your pussy but instead he moved slowly, his hands gliding up and down your body at a lazy pace. He traced every dip and curve with his hands as if memorizing every inch of your body by touch alone. His mouth kissed down the column of your neck and to your shoulders. When his mouth landed on the faint mark of your mating bite he suck his teeth into your soft exposed skin. Arousal pooled between your legs as he continued to caress and tease you.

You could feel him getting hard underneath you. The hard ridge of flesh was hot and curved back to rest on your folds. You tried to grind against it but he pulled your hips back to keep them still. “Not yet.” his breath was hot in your ear, “I want you ready to burst when I put it in.”

He continued to strum your body, plucking at your most sensitive spots but without any of the relief you sought. It seemed wholly unfair that he could be so patient during a rut. Wasn’t he supposed to throw you to the bed and fuck you until you were screaming in a fit of lust filled rage? How come he was teasing you?

“Someone’s pouting.” he turned your face to his. “What do you want, little bird? What can I do to make that frown go away.”

“You can put your dick in me. That’d be a nice start.” you batted your eyelashes at him. “Please master?”

“Calling me master while I’m in rut,” he growled, biting your neck again. “Do you think that a wise decision?”

“I think it’ll get me what I want.” you smirked. “So please, will you put your dick in me and breed my pussy, master?”

“That dirty trick won’t work forever.” Sylus muttered angrily as he lifted your hips up.

“I just need it to work now.”

“Becoming my mate made you such a brat.” he hissed as he lowered you down onto his cock. “There, you have your precious dick snug in that tight little pussy. If you want it bred though, you have to work for it.”

“But--”

“You expect your master to do all the work? That’s what you’re here for. Now get moving but don’t move your hands. Keep them wrapped around my horns.” he cupped your breasts and pinched and pulled at your nipples.

You began shaking your hips, pulling yourself up and down on his lap. His cock slid against your walls, sending bursts of ecstasy into your brain while he played with your breasts. He had sufficiently worked you up enough that you felt like you could come right then.

“You feel so good, wildfire.” he moaned into your neck. “This is exactly where I want you forever. Fucking yourself on my cock, trying to make me come. Cause that’s what you want, right? You want me to come. You want me to come inside you and breed this pretty pussy of yours?”

“Yes!” you clamped down on him tighter. “Yes Sylus! I want it! I need it!”

“I know you do.” he groaned, drawing in a sharp breath as you sped up. “You make me wanna come, wildfire. Just keep bouncing yourself on my dick.”

One of his hands trailed down your stomach and found your clit, adding to the sensations that were already overloading your body. “I won’t come until you do.” he said. “So if you want my cum you have to come for me, wildfire. Come on you master’s cock and he’ll give you what you want. What you need.”

“Ha…ha…ah fuck!” you forced your hips to move faster, chasing a release so close yet just out of reach. Your hands were cramping holding onto Sylus’s horns. The tighter you held them the heavier his breathing got.

“Sylus…” you whimpered. You were so close. “Sylus please!”

“Right here. I’m right here.” he craned your head back to kiss you. “You can do it. Just come for me.” he rubbed your clit faster, his other hand squeezed your breast.

“Sylus!” you moaned against his lips as you both came. He smothered the moan with another kiss, panting against your lips.

“So good. You are so fucking good, wildfire.” he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

Your arms fell to your sides as you relaxed against him. He rubbed at your shoulders, relieving the ache that had grown there. He moved you back so you were laying side by side on the bed again.

You took several deep breaths to center yourself, grounding yourself by nuzzling into Sylus’s chest. “Hey, not that this hasn’t been a lot of fun but how much longer is this rut going to last? I’m getting exhausted.”

Sylus rolled his eyes. “You were the one that tackled me into bed this morning, not the other way around.” he reminded you. “I think you forget that your libido is just as bad, if not worse than mine can be.”

“Fine. I admit it. But really, do you think we’re any closer to knowing if I’m pregnant or not?” you stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Oh my sweet little bird,” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “If you had let me speak this morning instead of dragging me back into bed I would have been able to tell you that you already are.”

“What?”

“You’re pregnant. I could smell the change this morning. That’s why I originally came in here. I was going to tell you after you had a chance to wake up a little more.” he was smiling the widest you had ever seen him.

“I’m really…” tears sprang to your eyes. “We’re going to have a baby?”

“Yes, we are.”

You wrapped your arms tight around his neck. It was happening! It was really happening!

Oh gods it was happening…you were…with a… You were going to give birth to a little dragon baby. Oh gods. This was actually happening! It wasn’t just a fun roleplay in bed. It was real. You had a little dragon growing in your womb.

“You look panicked. Are you alright?” Sylus asked. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am! I am ridiculously happy!” you assured him. “I’m also kinda terrified. In a few months we’re going to have a baby. We’re going to be parents and be in charge of another life. I mean, how do we even do that?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

With your pregnancy confirmed the rut wore off. You were thankful for the respite but now your mind was filled with nothing but preparations for the baby. You weren’t even showing yet and all you could do was make lists of things that needed done.

“Where is the baby going to sleep?” You asked Sylus one afternoon as you sat at the kitchen table, a list of things that needed done in front of you. At the top of the list was make a nursery.

“I suspect they’ll sleep in our room until they’re old enough to move them to their own room. There’s a lot of empty rooms in the mountain. We can fit a whole brood of hatchlings in here.” he kissed the top of your head and went about grabbing a bowl of stew from the large pot over the fire.

“A brood? Exactly how many kids do you want to pump into me?”

“I was thinking at least six or more.” he said with a shrug.

“Six!” you shouted.

“My ideal is nine since it’s a lucky number.” he took in your dumbstruck expression. “What?”

“You are insane if you think I’m going to birth nine kids.” you couldn’t even comprehend having a family that large. “I’ll give you three.”

“Seven.”

Was he haggling the number of kids you were going to have? Fine then. “Maybe four.”

“Five?”

“Four.”

“Alright, four.” he set another bowl of stew done for you. “Make sure to finish that. You’re eating for two now.”

“I know.” you set the list aside. “I need to go into town and do some shopping later, as well as tell my father and friends the news.”

“I’ll take you down whenever you’re ready. Are you nervous at all about telling them?”

“A little. It’s only recently that father came around to you and I’m not sure how he’s going to react. I hope he’ll be happy with the idea of being a grandfather at least.”

“You’re giving him his first grandchild, he’ll be thrilled no matter what.” Sylus assured you.

You grabbed some coins from the hoard room and left with Sylus for the village. Your first stop was to find your father and tell him the news. Sylus walked with you to the house but stayed in the background as you talked to your father. Your father was shocked at first but was soon smiling and congratulating you and Sylus both on your upcoming bundle of joy.

“I’ll have to get started working then.” he said, “I’m going to make a mobile for you to hang over the crib.”

“That sounds wonderful, father. Thank you.” you hugged him again. “I actually came into town to commission the woodworker for the cradle as well as buy some fabric and yarn to make baby clothes. I also need to find Tara and tell her. I know she’s going to be thrilled too.”

“That she will be. Congratulations, sweet pea. I can’t wait to meet them when they’re born.” he gave you a kiss on the cheek and you were on your way.

You left to run your other errands. Sylus was still by your side, looming in the corner wherever you went like a shadow. The village had really come to like him but he was still rather uncomfortable with the attention. He looked like he was going to fly away when you told Tara the news about your pregnancy and had given Sylus a huge hug in her excitement. She had promised to do a reading for your pregnancy as soon as possible and tell her mother so she could make you a perfect baby blanket for the little one.

Your last stop after the fabric shop was the woodworker to commission the cradle. There were some other people there that saw you come in with Sylus and froze. The woodworker looked up though and smiled. “Ah, what can I do for you today?”

“Hello, I came with a very special request. Mind you, I won’t need it for a couple months so take your time but what I really need is a cradle.”

“A cradle?” the woodworker smiled. “Oh my dear girl, you’re having a baby?”

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“Another mighty dragon in the village. What wonderful news.” the woodworker called to Sylus, “How big of a baby do we need to plan for?”

“A regular sized cradle should be fine.” Sylus said. “They shouldn’t be much different from a human baby.”

Sylus looked to his side where a man that had been waiting in the shop was staring at him. You didn’t recognize him immediately but it was a decent sized village, you didn’t have every face memorized. Sylus didn’t seem to appreciate the man’s staring and glared at him. “Do you have something to say to me?”

The man shook his head and took off. While most people in the village were used to Sylus there were some who still didn’t entirely trust him. It was an inevitability but hopefully in the years to come everyone would come to recognize him not as a threat but as a neighbor.

Once everything was done and finished you stopped by to say a final goodbye to your father and returned to the mountain.

You set what you had bought down and started getting preparations ready for dinner. While you were cooking you kept hearing Sylus walking back and forth past the kitchen. What was he doing now? While dinner simmered over the fire you went out to find him.

It was then that you noticed there was a carpet under your feet. That definitely hadn’t been there before. Where had it come from? And there were more carpets! They made a trail down the corridor and into your bedroom. Sylus was in there unrolling another carpet and layering it with the others.

“What are you doing? Where’d all the carpet come from?”

“Ah, yes,” he stood up, “I got to thinking that when the baby is born it’d be best if they had something soft to crawl around on so I’ve been finding whatever rugs I could from the hoard room and laid them out. I may also need to go around the walls and smooth them out so if they run into them they don’t get cut.”

It was endearing watching him worry and fret about how to make the mountain safer for your baby. You hadn’t even been pregnant a month and he was already doing so much. You walked up to him, your feet squishing against the plush carpet, and hugged him. “I’m so glad that our baby is going to have you as a father. I really am.”

His arms closed around you. “I’m the lucky one, really. To have a child with you. Knowing that this child is going to have you as their mother.” he knelt down, his face inches from your stomach. “Your mother is so good, little one. And I am going to love and protect you both for the rest of my life. I swear, nothing bad will ever happen to you so long as I draw breath.”

He kissed your stomach. You ran your hands through his hair, holding him there as he rested his head against you. “I can’t wait to meet our little one too.”

[moonlit-stay]

Kinktober 2024 ▪ Day 11

▪ Pairing: Lee Minho x Female Reader

▪ Kink: Edging

▪ Genre: Smut

▪ Word Count: 2.5k

▪ Warnings: Soft!Dom Minho, Sub!Fem Reader, established relationship, unprotected sex, edging (f. receiving) multiple orgasms (m. receiving), Minho is frustrated, needy, and insatiable, creampies

▪ Other Warnings: mentions of food

▪ Please let me know if I missed anything

Color(s) Of This Fic: Black and Sapphire Blue <3

If you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with this fic. This fic contains inappropriate content and is strictly 18+

Everything in not only this event, but all of my work in general is consensual. Even if not stated within the work.

Enjoy :)

Being an idol is far from easy, and being the girlfriend of an idol doesn't stray too far from the path of difficulty, either.

You've been with Minho for a few years now, and over the years you've learned there are many things to get used to and learn to accept when dating an idol. The most common of them all, and the one you happened to get used to the quickest, is the late nights spent at dance practice.

Whether it was for group or solo activities, more times than not you found Minho stuffed inside one of the many practice rooms within the JYP building, practicing not until he got it right, but until he could no longer get it wrong.

You've always admired how hardworking he is, it's one of the many things that made you fall for him in the first place; but your love for that singular trait does not outweigh your worry of him forgetting to take care of himself.

Tonight just happens to be another one of those exact instances. Minho called you two hours ago to let you know that not only was he still in the practice room, but that he would remain there until late tonight as well.

You could only sigh in response as you immediately noticed the exhaustion weaved within each of his words before you let him know you understood. At that point, it was just a few minutes past eleven at night. Now, it's just slightly past one in the morning and you just can't shake the worry you feel for your boyfriend.

So, without another thought, you set out to get food for Minho, bringing it to the company and straight to his practice room.

You stood outside the door for a moment, one hand resting on the handle of the door as your other hand tightly holds onto the bag of hot food. You can hear the music blaring from the other side of the door, accompanied by the sound of Minho's shoes squeaking against the floor with each of his movements.

Not only does Minho have a solo performance coming up, but he's also choreographing the entire performance himself. He's spent every day for the past week practicing for it, working out every little detail to make sure the choreography is perfect for this upcoming performance. Today he wanted to work on some of the details and any parts that weren't quite up to his personal standards.

You could hear his frustrated groans sound through the practice room, and for a moment you considered leaving the food outside the door and texting him to let him know it was there. However, you inevitably realized that if you did that, he might not even see the text until he was leaving.

No matter how many times you do this, you still always feel bad for interrupting him, even if it is for the sake of his wellbeing. You push that thought aside, as you normally do, and carefully open the door.

Your eyes snap to Minho when you walk in, his sharp features and hardened stare immediately giving away his frustration. You close the door just as carefully as you opened it, and you watch his eyes dart to you through the mirror before his expression softens.

He freezes for a moment before he stands straight and turns to you. His expression is unreadable when he approaches you, and you quickly set the bag of food down to embrace the tired, overworked man.

He pulls you into his chest as his arms wrap around your torso. You mirror the action, running a comforting hand along his back as you both stand in silence. His breathing is uneven as he pants against your neck, and you squirm slightly at the feeling.

Naturally, the small action doesn't go unnoticed by your attentive boyfriend, and he smirks before he presses feather-light kisses to the side of your neck.

"Thank you for the food, pretty." His voice dances along your skin in a whisper, and you almost shudder at the tone of his voice alone.

He waits until he hears you take in a breath to speak to press precise open-mouthed kisses against your sweet spot. When he does, your breath gets caught in your throat and you choke out a moan instead of any coherent answer.

He smirks once again, walking you backwards towards the couch that lines the entire corner of the practice room. He reluctantly detaches himself from your neck to pull your top over your head, tossing it on the other couch only a second after. He leans you back against the soft surface, reveling in the sharp gasp you let out when your warm skin connects with the cold leather.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans before he hurriedly pulls them off your legs in one swift motion. You let out a gasp at the action, shuffling further down the couch and closer to him with the movement.

You peer up at Minho as he moves to sit back on his heels between your thighs, he meets your eyes as he moves to press his thumb firmly against your clothed clit. You jolt at the contact, letting out a soft moan as Minho hooks his middle finger into the crotch of your panties to pull them off you, too.

Minho pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down until the fabric bunches around the top of his thighs. He spreads your thighs so he can shuffle closer to your bare heat, letting his length brush against your folds as he brings your thighs to rest against his hips.

He briefly looks down at you as he presses his tip to your entrance, you can see the need in his eyes, and when he pushes his tip past your folds as he slowly sinks into you, you watch his eyes darken and his jaw clench. His hands fly to your hips, gripping the flesh hard enough to bruise as he holds you in place so he can sink further into you. Your brain is slowly growing cloudy, but it only takes you a few seconds to understand that all his anger transmuted to need the second he saw you walk through the door.

Minho finally bottoms out, staying still for only a minute before he's drawing his hips back, just to thrust them forward until his entire length is sheathed inside you again.

The sheer force of that single thrust almost knocks the air out of your lungs, and you barely have the time to recover before he repeats the action. His thrusts are slow, rough, and precise, making sure he hits all the spots he knows will have your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you struggle to keep quiet.

Minho quickly finds himself getting lost in the feeling of your warm walls hugging his length perfectly, letting his head loll backwards as he lets out a groan that has you clenching around him. The action only furthers his trance-like state as his hips speed up on their own accord to chase his quickly approaching high.

Without warning, he buries his entire length inside you, stilling entirely as he paints your walls white. You whine at the feeling, squirming in his hold as you desperately try to roll your hips against his to get some kind of friction.

"Fuck, don't move, baby." He breathes out, his voice low and breathy as he continues to hold you in place.

"M-Min, please," you whimper out, feeling him lift your hips with his length still buried inside you.

He brings your hips to rest against the top of his thighs as he stays seated on his heels, your legs falling further apart as your back arches away from his knees. It's not until he leans forward until he's hovering over you that you realize he's still hard inside you.

Minho leans down to nip at your collarbones as he moves to thrust into you again, resuming the same merciless pace as before. You can feel him deeper in this position, and with each thrust, you feel his tip nudge against that soft, gummy spot deep inside you that has both of your hands flying to keep your screams between you and Minho.

You can feel Minho's moans vibrate through where his lips are connected to your skin, and it makes you buck your hips up to meet his involuntarily.

"Min, god I'm so close, please-" you moan out, your hips still bucking up to meet his as you chase your high.

"Don't you dare, baby." He pants out against your skin, his rhythm faltering slightly as he nears his high again, "hold it for me, pretty."

You let out a cry at his words, your thighs shaking with desperation as he once again, buries himself inside you, stills completely, and cums inside you again.

Tears well in your eyes at the feeling of your orgasm fading, your thighs still shaking as you jolt at the feeling of Minho shallowly thrusting his cum deeper inside you.

You feel Minho slowly pull out of you and lift you from the couch, flipping you over until you're on all fours. Your legs feel weak beneath you, Minho notices this and gently places a hand on your back, carefully pushing you into an arch until your front is pressed against the surface of the couch with your ass on perfect display for him.

A groan tears from his throat at the sight, and he rests both of his hands on your ass to knead the flesh as he settles behind you. He lines his length up with your entrance once more, slowly pushing into you so you can feel how deep he reaches in this position.

Through cloudy thoughts and blurry vision, you realize that you underestimated just how frustrated Minho truly was when you showed up. Aside from him cumming twice and still being rock hard, you can feel all his pent-up emotions that have accumulated over the past week in the way he thrusts into you like his success depends on how hard he can pound you into this practice room couch.

You can feel Minho's previous releases spill out of you and drip down your thighs when he bottoms out again, and you're almost positive that's accompanied by a creamy white ring around the base of his cock.

You don't have much time to think about that before Minho's length is moving inside you again. Your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head when you feel how deep he is. Your hands fly to find something to hold onto as his grip on your hips tightens and as his pace picks up.

"You're so fucking full of me, baby." You hear Minho groan out, and you barely register what he's saying until you feel more of his release spill out of you with every thrust of his hips. "Love it when you let me use you like this."

You can barely whine in response as moans spill past your lips, your lungs burning from your repeated sharp intakes of breath. You reach both of your hands back to Minho and he takes your hands in his without a second thought, pulling your arms towards him to use as leverage.

Minho can feel his third orgasm approaching, and he can tell by the way your walls are pulsing around him and the way your moans are coming out broken and high-pitched that you're right there with him again.

"Gonna cum inside you one more time, baby." He warns, picking up his pace as he watches his hips connect with the flesh of your ass with each thrust. "Fuck, you're gonna take it all for me, right, pretty?"

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, your eyes rolling back when Minho finds that spot deep inside you again, abusing the spot until your whole body is shaking in his hold. "Please! Please let me cum, Min, please!"

"Cum with me, baby."

Your eyes screw shut as fireworks go off behind your eyelids, your mouth agape as loud, breathy moans tear from your throat that neither you, or Minho have the mental clarity to remember to try and muffle. Minho feels your walls throb harshly around his cock as your orgasm finally washes over you, leaving you a quivering mess as you feel the pleasure hit every nerve in your body. He holds back for as long as he can to draw out your orgasm that you waited so long for, and when you collapse against the couch, he thrusts into you one last time before he cums inside you one final time tonight.

Even after you both cum and he stops moving completely, you're still letting out small, quiet moans as you both fight to calm your ragged breathing. You feel Minho kiss along your spine as he softens inside you, and you audibly sigh at the gentle feeling of his lips on your skin, and the relief of your boyfriend finally being satiated.

"M'sorry." He quietly mumbles against your skin, slowly pulling out of you.

You jolt away from the feeling, a small, quiet cry leaving you as Minho kneads at one of your hips comfortingly.

"S'okay." You quietly respond, feeling Minho get up from the couch.

You watch him walk across the practice room, still fully clothed as he grabs something to clean you up with. He gently cleans between your cum-covered thighs before he helps you get dressed.

You sit on the couch for a minute as he stands in front of you. He gazes down at you, a fond smile on his face as he watches you space out. He rests his pointer finger under your chin, pulling your face up to press a kiss to your lips.

"Thank you." He warmly says when he pulls away from you. "For all of this."

For a minute you just gaze into his eyes, your own eyes darting back and forth between both of his own.

"You're welcome." You reply, letting him help you up from the couch.

He grabs the bag of food you set down earlier, looking over the bag with a smile.

"Surprisingly, it's still warm." He informs you with a chuckle, taking your hand in his as he leads you out of the practice room after you both gather the rest of your things.

You chuckle back, leaning your head against his shoulder as you both make your way out of the company building.

"Let's go home." He sighs out after taking a deep breath of the late-night air.

Minho will always be grateful for you and all the ways you go about caring for him, but there will always be something about the way you trust him enough to allow him to do whatever he needs to ease his mind, nerves, and all the negative in between.

Main Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

▪ Author's Note

Lost my mind writing this, and then lost my mind all over again proofreading this <33

Need this Minho more than the air I breathe😩😵

▪ Taglist

@kpophubb @whatudowhennooneseesyou @skzgallll

Send me a DM or ask to be added to the taglist

▪ Extras

©2021 - 2024 all rights are reserved to Moonlit-Stay. Stealing, reposting, copying, translating, plagiarizing, and modifying any and all of my work is strictly prohibited.

Released: October 11th, 2024

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !

[calmingmelody96]

The Dragon's Niece

Chapter 11 - The Dragon's Truth

Warnings: medival sexism, forced marriage, uncle-niece incest, kidnapping, holding captive

Masterlist

The wind howled around Dragonstone, slamming against the black stone like a beast caged too long. Within the chamber carved deep into the ancient keep, all was still.

Daemon sat on the floor beside the hearth, his legs folded, hair unbound. The firelight cast golden shadows across his sharp features. His son lay curled beside him, tiny fingers stroking the smooth, warm shell of the dragon egg resting in his lap.

Daeron’s eyes were wide with wonder. “It’s warm.”

“It’s alive,” Daemon murmured, voice low and reverent. “And it’s yours.”

The boy looked up at him. “Will it hatch soon?”

Daemon tilted his head, eyes softening. “If you speak to it. Sleep beside it. Let it know your scent, your voice. Then perhaps.” He reached forward and tucked a silver curl behind the boy’s ear. “But even if it doesn’t hatch now, it will. It was meant for you.”

“Why didn’t I have one before?” Daeron asked, innocent, but the question cut deep.

Daemon’s jaw tensed. “Because the men in the Red Keep are fools.” He forced calm into his tone. After all he did not want to scare his 6 year old son.  So he sat back, motioned for Daeron to come closer. "Come, sit in front of me, so I can braid your hair like a true Valyrian."

Daeron crawled to him without hesitation, trusting now in a way he hadn’t before and sat cross-legged on the floor between his father’s knees.

The boy was still, head tilted forward as Daemon gathered the silver strands in his calloused hands and began to comb through them.

“Hold still,” Daemon murmured.

“I am,” Daeron muttered. “You’re pulling.”

“That’s because you twist like a fish.” But his voice was dry and fond, and his fingers were surprisingly gentle as he wove the next strand.

There was a pause, and then Daeron asked, quieter, “Did you ever do this before?”

A faint smile ghosted over Daemon’s lips.

“Yes.” He lifted another section, smoothing it between his fingers. “Your mother used to ask me for Valyrian braids all the time when she was a little girl. Said I was the only one who ever got them right.” His voice dropped, laced with quiet memory. “She’d sit at my feet, just like you are now, and make me braid her hair.”

Daeron giggled softly. “Mother was sneaky.”

“She was.” Daemon smiled, the faintest tug of nostalgia softening his face. 

Daemon tied off the final braid with a flick of his fingers, letting the silvery strand fall neatly against the nape of his son’s neck. Daeron sat quietly, his small frame tucked close to his father’s knee, as if instinctively drawn to the warmth of his presence.

There was a pause, and then the boy asked, far too perceptive for his age. “Did… did Mommy run away from you?”

Daemon exhaled, slow and low, the shadow of something darker passing through his eyes.

“No, little dragon.” He crouched down, so they were eye level. “She just needs reminding who she belongs to.”

Daeron blinked, — the weight of Daemon’s words was too heavy for him to grasp fully.

“Will she come soon? You said you took her also!” the boy asked, “Where is she? I miss her. She always kisses my forehead at night.” 

Daemon gave a rough, short laugh and ruffled the boy’s hair, careful not to undo the braids.

“I’ll kiss your forehead if it helps,” he said dryly.

Daeron giggled. “No! That’s gross.”

“Then stop complaining,” Daemon said, smirking. But a beat later, he reached out anyway and pressed his lips to the top of Daeron’s silver head, gentle and brief. “She’ll be here soon, little dragon. I promise you that.”

The boy looked satisfied, even comforted. He turned his attention to the egg resting near the hearth — the dragon egg Daemon had gifted him hours earlier. 

“Do you want to name it?” his father asked.

Daeron thought for a long moment, then whispered, “Vhaelion.”

Daemon’s brows lifted slightly. “A strong name.”

Daeron beamed. “It sounds like a prince.”

“Then let it be a prince’s dragon.” Daemon looked down at his son. “Keep it close. Don’t let it out of your sight.”

Daeron nodded solemnly, arms protectively circling the egg.

A knock echoed through the chamber, sharp and deliberate. Daemon Targaryen did not stir from where he stood by the hearth, eyes fixed on the flames.

“Enter,” he said, voice low but commanding.

The door creaked open, and a servant stepped through with a bow. In his hand, he bore a small scroll sealed in wax the color of molten gold.

“My prince,” the servant intoned, eyes lowered. “A raven from King’s Landing.”

Daemon turned at last, his gaze narrowing as he extended a hand. The servant placed the scroll in his palm with the reverence one might show a blade—careful, deferential, and wary.

He did not open it immediately. Instead, Daemon dismissed the man with a flick of his fingers. The servant bowed again and quickly withdrew, closing the door behind him with a soft click that echoed in the sudden silence.

Alone now, Daemon stood still for a long moment. The fire crackled. The seal gleamed beneath the flickering light. With a deep breath, he stepped away from the hearth and leaned his back against the cold stone wall.

His thumb pressed into the golden wax and broke it with a quiet snap.

He unrolled the parchment slowly, as if the weight of the words within could already be felt.

As his eyes moved across the page, his expression darkened like a gathering storm. His jaw clenched. A sharp breath hissed between his teeth.

Viserys.

His knuckles whitened around the parchment.

To Prince Daemon Targaryen, Return your niece and her son at once. Do not mistake my silence for approval, nor my patience for weakness. She is Ser Gwayne Hightower’s wife by both law and faith. She is not yours to take, to claim, or to keep. To steal another man’s wife is a crime — against the Crown, and before the Seven. Your actions are treasonous, shameful, and will not be tolerated.

—King Viserys Targaryen First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protecter of the Realm

The fire burned low. Shadows stretched across stone walls. The remains of her untouched supper sat cold and ignored.

Maeliora paced like a caged animal, barefoot, her hair wild, eyes blazing. There was a shattered goblet at the base of the door, red wine still staining the stone.

The guards outside did not respond.

Then the door creaked open.

Daemon stepped in like the devil himself — cloak swirling, boots thudding. He was smirking like nothing she had done all day mattered, like the storm in her eyes only amused him.

"I heard my little rebel threw her wine at the wall again. If you want attention, sweetling, there are better ways to get it."

"I want to see my son."

Daemon shrugged off his cloak. "You’ll see him when I decide you’re done acting like a petulant child."

"He is my son. You can't do this!"

His eyes flashed. His voice dropped. "He’s ours. And you should thank the gods I took him from that nest of snakes you called a home."

She crossed the room in two strides, fury trembling in every limb. "You damned brute! You had no right!"

Daemon exploded — the kind he had kept buried for years. Everything he had swallowed. Everything that had made him bitter and burning.

"No right? While I was burning and bleeding on the Stepstones, you were tucked up in the Red Keep, playing wife to the green-blooded coward. Giving him what was mine. Letting him touch you, use you—"

Maeliora's hand slapped across his face, the sound echoing in the tense air. She struck him. Daemon stepped forward, his gaze dark, but she stood her ground, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

"Tell me, sweetling, did you enjoy lying beneath him? Did you moan for him the way you did for me that night? Or did you just lay there like a cold little doll, thinking of your uncle while he tried to mount you like a dog in heat?"

Her hands trembled at her sides, fists clenched, Maeliora screamed, "Stop it, just stop! I never even shared his bed." Her voice shook. "How dare you? You think I wanted that marriage? You think you are the only one who suffered?"

Daemon stilled. His mouth parted. He studied her — closely, like a man who had just spotted a crack in armor.

"Say that again."

"You heard me."

His lips parted, just slightly. And then, slowly, very slowly, that dangerous smirk returned — but now it was predatory.

"A marriage unconsummated is no marriage at all. You’re not a Hightower wife, Maeliora. You never were. And now, the realm will know it."

His entire face changed. The storm in his eyes flickered into something colder, calculated, smug. Almost triumphant.

“Well then. Seems I’ve just won.”

Maeliora’s heart sank. Her anger cooled in an instant, replaced by dread — gods, how could she have been so foolish? She had handed him a weapon, and now he would use it.

♥️❥♡❦♥️❦♡❥♥️♥️❥♡❦♥️❦♡❥♥️♥️❥♡❦♥️❦♡❥♥️♥️❥♡❦♥️❦

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[hehe-69]

Bonfire Part 11

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

WARNINGS: BELLA’S WEDDING, EMMET BEING THE HIMBO HE IS, WOLFPACK, EMBRY X QUILL MOMENTS, VERY POORLY WRITTEN PART

I have never struggled so much to write a part as I did with this one. The other parts are soooo much better

Summary: Bella’s wedding wasn’t something you were looking forward to, and true to your gut…it’s a bit on the rocky side.

Tage list: @coldonez

The day of Bella’s wedding was a bit hectic. You had to find a suit for Jacob last minute because he was about to wear JEANS and a dress shirt. Sometimes you wonder what would happen to Jacob if you weren’t around. Likely for the both of you, you’ll never have to find out.

Your mother found one in your dad’s old room, most of his things were still there. You and her made sure nothing got too dusty or ruined by time. It was the perfect fit for Jacob, and it took forever for your mother to convince him to wear and keep it. She told him that she’d rather him have it and wear it than it sit in the closet collecting dust.

Jacob in a suit is something you never thought you’d actually see, it awakens something within you. The fact that it’s your father’s suit is…oddly fitting, your dad knew about your crush on Jacob right away. He’d be happy to see you now.

You and Quill talk about your boyfriends in suits, agreeing that it’s a life changing event. Quill was dressed in a white dress shirt with a suit jacket and some slacks. No tie, very much Quil. “Are you excited?” Quill asks you as you smooth out his jacket. “A part of me is, Bella’s getting married to the love of her life. But, she’s also giving up her humanity for an entirety with Edward. I just worry about her, I don’t want her to end up regretting this decision.” Even though you and Bella don’t talk anymore, you still cared about her and wanted her to best for her.

“I’ll never understand how your brain works. Just remember, it’s just a normal wedding.” Quill says softly. “Just watching your childhood best friend getting married.” You smile at the reminder. “Thanks Quil.”

———

Bella’s wedding is…very extravagant in Bella terms, but it’s also very beautiful. You, Jacob, Quill, Embry, Seth, Billy and Sue all feel a bit out of place with all the vampires who are at this wedding. Thankfully there are also some people from Bella’s life there, her group of friends from high school, her mom and dad, and so on.

It’s really nice, Alice definitely went all out with this one. “Bet you’re glad I didn’t let you come here in jeans and a dress shirt.” You tease Jacob playfully, trying to ease the tension in his body. Jacob glares at you, but there’s no bite to it. “I think we both know I would’ve pulled it off just fine.” You grin at him, at least he’s comfortable enough to be playful back.

“Ugh, if you two are going to be like this for the entire wedding. I’m going to need a barf bucket.” Quill groans out and Embry chuckles next to him. “That’s my cue to start drinking.” Billy laughs and rolls off to find Charlie, Sue following him. “Am I the only one who’s excited?” Seth asks, he’s been looking forward to the wedding for a while now.

———

The wedding ceremony was traditional, no personalized vows just short and sweet. You could see how much they loved each other, Bella has been so nervous walking down the aile but the second she looked at Edward it all melted away.

You were happy for her, in that moment it really did feel as simple as watching her get married to the love of her life. As you sat and watched with the love of yours.

Afterwards you couldn’t help but notice that Charlie almost always had his glass filled with champagne. This man is going to drink very drop of liquor involved in this wedding by the end of the night.

———

While you’re off looking something to eat, Edward comes up to talk to you. “Bella is really happy the both of you could make it.” You jump a bit at the sound of his voice. “Shit, you scared the crap out of me you lurker.” Edward smiles at that, it isn’t the first time you’ve called him a lurker. You have made jokes about how Edward isn’t a hoverer but a lurker, he lurkers instead of hovering like a normal person.

You and Edward used to get along, in fact you almost became friends. Till he abandoned Bella in the woods. Bella told you all about what she went through during the ride to Emily’s house the day you and her were almost mulled by Paul.

He never attempted to speak to you after he returned. The last time you saw him, you were playing peacekeeper between him and Jacob.

You’re a bit confused why he’s gone out of the way to talk to you. Till you look behind him and see Bella watching the two of you, she turns around quickly once she realizes you caught her.

“Bella wants us to get along.” Edward explains akwardly, you glare at him. “Maybe we can start by you agreeing to stay out of my head.” You hiss as you realize he’s read your mind. “Sorry, it’s a habit.” Edward apologizes and looks around awkwardly. “You’re a hard one to read, kind of like Charlie….I know you’re upset with me. But I’d like to try to make amends.” Sighing heavily at that you reluctantly agree to a truce between the two of you.

———

After having the most awkward conversation you have ever had in your life with Edward Cullen, you managed to escape back to your table with Jacob. “What was that about?” Jacob asks you as you sit down next to him. You huff out a laugh, “Just a truce agreement for Bella’s sake, and quite possibly the most awkward conversation I’ve had in my life.”

Jacob laughs as you wallow in self pity. “God I hope he doesn’t try to do that to me. I might end up breaking my vow to not rip him apart.”

———

Speeches, you hated speeches and now you know you hate wedding speeches even more. The second hand embarrassment is enough to make you want to gouge your eyes out as Ranee sings.

Emmets speech is something else. “Hope you’ve got enough sleep these past 18 years, because you won’t be getting anymore while.” No one takes it the way he intends. You cringe and watch as Charlie gulps down his champagne.

Your personal favorite is Charlie’s speech. If anyone could hunt down and kill a vampire it’d be a pissed off Charlie Swan.

———

“Remind me to never let anyone at my wedding touch the mic.” Quill whispers to you as you and him look for some snacks. “Oh I’ll be the first one up there, I’ll talk about how much you fangirl and drool over Embry.” Quill glares at you playfully. “You wouldn’t dare.” And you grin evilly.

———

Turns out, Emmet is having a blast with the members of the pack that are here tonight. He’s always been more bubbly and energetic than the rest of the Cullens. You’re not sure when Jared got here but the two of them are messing around like they’ve been best buddies for years. It’s like HIMBO fest over there.

———

Quill and Embry get to SLOW DANCE TOGETHER DURING THE WEDDING!!!!! You try your best to contain your excitement. They get to actually act like boyfriends now, IN PUBLIC!

It’s cute, beyond adorable. Charlie comes up to talk to you as you watch the two lovers. “You and Jacob gonna dance?” Charlie asks as he takes a seat next to you, he almost misses it. “We were going to till Edward stole him for a bit.” You says simply and turn to smile at Charlie, who is sipping on God only knows the number of glasses of champagne he’s had tonight.

“Edwin…still don’t like that kid.” Charlie speaks ‘Edward’s name’ like it’s a curse, and gulps down his champagne. You chuckle at Charlie. “Welcome to the club.”

———

You and Jacob never get that dance. Turns out, Bella is planning on having a normal honeymoon with Edward. Jacob is beyond livid at the idea and the entire pack has to go back to Emily’s after Jacob’s outburst. So the night is cut short.

You’re walking to Jacob’s truck to drive it to Emily’s house, when Bella runs up to talk to you. “I’m so sorry Y/N. I never thought that he’d react that way.” You try to stay calm, she hasn’t spoken to you the entire wedding and now she wants to. “It’s okay Bella, I’m only worried about it ruining your night.” You do feel bad for her, it’s supposed to be a happy day, drama free. “I’m fine, I just hope you’re all okay. I never wanted all this to happy. I’m really happy you came.” Bella admits as she follows you to the truck. “I knew you wanted me to be here, so I came. That’s what people that care about you do.” You’re being short with her. To be honest with yourself you don’t want to be here anymore. Bella always makes a mess of things and everyone else has to clean it up. You’re tired of always being the one to do it.

“Just go back and have fun Bella, don’t worry about us.” Your voice is filled with the same fatigue that flows through your body. “You have an eternity left to spend with Edward, go and enjoy it instead of wasting seconds on us.” The bitterness and resentment you have for Edward and Bella’s all consuming relationship wins as you say this to her.

You loved Bella, she was the kind of person you only meet once in your lifetime. She was a kind soul, caring, but when Edward came into the picture everything else in her life faded into nothingness.

You get into the truck and give Bella an apologetic look before starting the engine and driving away.

———

Everyone is inside playing cards, Jacob is outside sitting on the porch when you get there. He took of his suit jacket and his his tie loosen around his neck. He looks like he has been beating himself up for the entire hour it took for you to drive there. Sighing to yourself, you kill the engine and get out to walk towards him.

You sit down next to him, and he moves to lean his head on yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry I blew up like that and ruined the night.” Jacob murmurs, and his tone is low and remorseful. “You’re worried about her Jacob, you have every right to be.” You’re fine is light and full of understanding. “Bella will be okay, Edward won’t let her die. Besides I think she’s too stubborn for dearh.” Jacob laughs softly, then presses a kiss to your head. Before standing up to hop off the porch and bowing to you with one hand out. “What are you up to?” You grin as he turns to you with a bright smile.

“May I have this dance?” You grin at him, he did promise you a dance tonight. You hop up and accept the invitation. You and Jacob slow dance, there’s no music but the sound of the night and your own heartbeats…and the sounds of laughter and yelling coming for inside Emily’s house.

“I just wish I could’ve given you a happier night.” Jacob says softly. “I think it’s perfect, drama, secondhand embarrassment, speeches, fighting, romance, what more could I ask for.” Jacob laughs at the slight sarcasm that fills your voice in the last part of your sentence. “I’ll make it up to you.” Jacob whispers and you grin. “Ooo I think I might have some suggestions.”

“HEY QUIT MAKING OUT AND COME PLAY SOME MUGGINS WITH US LOVEBIRDS.” Paul yells from the door. “YEAH WE NEED SOMEONE TO MAKE JARED LOOK BETTER!” Quil shouts out next to Paul.

———

You used to think that Bella and Charlie were like a second family, till Edward came around. Now, the Wolfpack is the closest thing you have to a real one, they knew you and Jacob were struggling with the whole Bella is gonna be a vampire thing. And there they were, making you play games and have fun with them.

Nothing get better then this. And nothing can come between the bond you all have formed…right?

—————

This was the HARDEST PART FOR ME TO RIGHT. I had nothing planned for this I was so focused on the rest of the story. What little I did completely flew out the window.

So sorry if it’s shit, everything else will be better written and put together. I’m just so happy this part is FINALLY FINISHED.

This is literally just to move the plot along I’m so sorry.

As always feel free to request whatever you’d like to see in future parts.

Thanks for suffering through this part

Love ya🫶

Part 12

[peachglazewrites]

soo i’m on the girls powerlifting team at my school (currently omw to a meet wish me luck) and it got me thinking abt what sports would abby do/how well would she be at powerlifting yk

what sports do you think she would be in 👀

a/n: hey!!! first of all GOOD LUCK AT YOUR MEET OMG??? that's so beyond cool!!

second of all!! I had such a big think about this and I decided to do it as a silly little headcanon post ♡︎ AND THIRD I don't play sports… I played basketball in high school for a few years and that was IT so please excuse my poor poor googling attempts </3

hope you enjoy!! ♡︎

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1k

˗ˏˋ𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜´ˎ˗

: ̗̀➛ 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐

★ 100% would be into powerlifting I feel like that's hardly a headcanon at this point! We know in canon that she's on the leaderboard for the women's bench press (205lbs btw) in the WLF fitness club, so I feel like she would enjoy deadlifts and squats too!

★ Abby thrives on having a perpetually moving goal. She loves that she always has something to work on and improve, a reason to push herself. She's so incredibly dedicated in what she does, and so I can see her taking this as seriously as she needs to!

★ Abby would be hesitant about getting a coach when she starts out, which can be for a lot of reasons but mostly out of the need to be in control. She hated the idea of having someone else do her numbers and tell her what to do? It's her body, so obviously she knows what she's doing.

★ But after not seeing much progress or struggling with a certain element she tells herself she'll do a single coached session to get over this and that'll be it. But the improvements after one session were enough for her to reconsider, and so after some shopping around she found her current coach and they've been working together since.

: ̗̀➛ 𝚋𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐

★ Abby would pick up boxing when Owen did, joining group sessions. Owen liked it, and found a lot of the benefits in it that he wanted, but kind of fell off with attending sessions and decided to keep up with it somewhat casually. Abby was the complete opposite. She quickly moved from working in a group setting to finding a private studio and trainer, training on a dedicated schedule.

★ She loves the way it makes her feel. Boxing isn't just about the arms, and she lives for the strain and ache in her muscles of her legs and abdomen. It also provides her an outlet, a truly cathartic way of unloading all of her stress and emotions she'd rather not talk about.

★ One of the trainers at the studio pulls her aside one day and asks if she can help out a friend of theirs. He owns a studio downtown that does junior classes, and their regular trainer has called in sick. They need someone to cover. Abby refuses, says absolutely not, but then she learns she'll get paid and eventually she agrees.

★ Surprise surprise, she loves it. There's something about how enthusiastic the kids are, how excited they are to learn and grow. A contagious optimism that kids exude. She's employed within the month.

★ The boys think she's super cool, amazed by her bulk and her broadness. But it's the three girls in the class that make her want to do this, want to be a role model. The way their confidence boosts every class, how they become just as eager to jump in and join as the boys are.

★ One of them runs up to her during a water break one day to show her her arms, flexing in the way an 11 year old thinks flexing works, boasting about how she can feel herself getting stronger-- just like her. That's what breaks Abby, makes her realise that yeah, she can do this. She wants to be someone these kids will look up to.

: ̗̀➛ 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐

★ Now look… I know she's scared of heights, but I honestly think that Lev would introduce the sport to Abby in an attempt to work through her fear of them.

★ Lev's a little speed demon, scrambling and climbing up the rock wall in no time. The first time he convinces Abby to come with him, she stands at the sidelines and calls him a show off. It takes a while but he eventually gets her harnessed up and climbing along the lower sections.

★ It takes an embarrassingly long time in her eyes for to get used to things. The feeling of being so high up, to ignore the vertigo. Lev, as much of a smart ass as he is, helps her through it all, always a few feet above her and goading her on.

★ Lev's number one way to motivate Abby is to prod at her competitive streak, her pride. It works every time, and he gets Abby chasing after him up the wall without her even realising it, cursing and playfully arguing with him the whole way.

★ It's not a sport Abby would ever do by herself, and she somewhat doubts she'd want to do it with anyone but Lev. She doesn't trust anyone to do this kind of thing with, except for Lev. He knows just how to push her, motivate her, talk her down from a panic attack without making her feel embarrassed and like shit afterwards.

okay here me out... this is next one is SUPER self indulgent but I literally can't stop thinking about it....

: ̗̀➛ 𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚋𝚢

★ Abby 100% is the team captain, and she runs that shit like it's her actual job. Not just in training, but with everything that comes with being captain. Developing rosters, taking care of injured teammates, organising team bonding activities, helping out with uniforms.

★ Mel, Nora, Leah, and Yara are also all on the team, and when the five of them get lined up together for a jam it's carnage in the rink. They tear it UP.

★ Abby really enjoys it, as it works out parts of her body that she wouldn't prioritise otherwise. The strain in her muscles after practice or a game makes her feel good, accomplished.

★ Abby also enjoys and cherishes the team aspect of it, even though she's a bit of a hardass and has these girls working HARD. She cares a lot about her team, and will do anything for them. She has a bad habit of letting rink-talk get to her sometimes, but that comes from her being so competitive and fiercely protective of her team.

Why do I want to write a roller derby au… team captain Abby and Reader who goes to every game of theirs because she has a huuuge crush on her, but doesn't realise that Abby spots her in the audience every single time and feels the same way!!! Someone finish all my WIPs for me I need to write this…

[lizzy019]

𝒞𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝑅𝑜𝓁𝓁?

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Plus-size Fem!Reader

cw -> insecurities, tough-love, oral (sixty nine), but a sweet ending :)

Word Count -> 1.4K

As a plus-size girlie, I genuinely wish I could get this, but no man likes a girl with stomach fat and it’s KILLING MEEE

This blasted mirror, you thought to yourself.

Hands scooping up your protruding apron belly with a sad expression, you look at yourself disapprovingly in the mirror as tears well up in your eyes.

Ugly, ugly, ugly! Your mind chanted in disregard of your mental health.

You didn’t care if people said, “Oh, but you have boobs!” or “Oh, but you have a full ass!” It wasn't about that anymore, you just wanted to feel pretty again. Like that young teenager who had no care for their looks, just getting good grades in school to finally have that dream job.

Now your job has you cooped up in your home all day, stress eating until you feel guilty and crying about it. It was pathetic.

You were pathetic.

Sniffles escaped you as you hid yourself in the baggiest clothing you had, frowning when you could still see the fat in your arms and the face fat that made you look old.

A knock at the apartment’s front door had you quickly wiping your tears in a hurry, trying to fix your breaths as you exited your room to go see who it was.

Opening the door to the apartment, you’re met with the familiar white skull mask and stocky body that you’d swooned over the first time you saw him.

“Simon!” You smiled, gently hugging him and allowing him inside. After months, he was safe and back home.

“Hey, luv. You gained weight?” He responded, dropping his duffel bag and eyeing you closely.

You winced at those words.

“Are you high or somethin’? Why’re your eyes all red and puffy?” He asked.

This had you freeze up, giving a nervous chuckle as you played with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“No no, I’m not high, I promise. Just tired.” You lied as smooth as you could, gesturing to the kitchen for him to go and get food.

Even if Ghost could tell you were lying from the way your body language was all closed off, he didn’t wanna dig and hurt you. So he just trudged to the kitchen for food and let you be.

The rest of your evening was spent in the bathroom, eyeing the laxatives you bought to thin yourself out with skepticism. While you wanted to take them, you didn’t know how they’d make your system react.

A waste of money, you thought to yourself.

But working out was a waste of time when bills had to be paid and the house needed cleaning, or family needed help, or groceries had to be done.

It was all too much, and you found yourself silently beginning to sob again.

Hands holding the disgusting fat at your abdomen, you curled up on the tiled floors and weeped. How could Simon deal with you? How could he want to be proud of you? Was he lying? Pitying you?

Ghost could hear the sounds from the living room, but he paid no mind to it. You never handled crying in front of others well anyway.

11:30 at night, Simon stripped bare in front of you as you hesitated strongly to take off your own clothing.

You felt bad for so many reasons, the two most severe ones being that you were scared he’d judge you and make cruel jokes about the pounds you’d gained, but also not taking your clothes off and making him upset or frustrated.

Ghost’s hands didn’t even let you choose, your shirt came off within a few seconds and so did your pants and panties.

Mortification crossed you instantly, and you wished you could run back into the bathroom, lock yourself away and rot. It’s the only thing you could do better than stuffing your face full of food.

Ghost got into position, and you felt awful when he got on top of you instead of you usually getting on top of him.

Flimsy cock at your mouth, you gently put it into your lips and began to work on what he’d pleaded for upon return. His own mouth attached itself to your core, but you weren’t wet. You couldn't focus on enjoying the pleasure when everything else was pulling you away from it.

Regardless, everything kept going, even your mortification which refused to leave. You were just too self-conscious, too fearful of his true reaction and anxiety creeping up because he hasn't said anything about it yet.

Once Ghost was good and hard, he moved once again into a missionary position and grabbed some lube and a condom, rolling the latex on first before lubing up your entrance. His tip pressed your core before a sharp thrust was executed.

Only a soft whimper exited you from it, and this really gave Ghost the sign that something was up.

“Luv, what the fuck is up with you t’day? You’re actin’ all reticent and timid for no goddamn reason. Or is there a reason that you’re just not informin’ me of?” He asked harshly, his expression not visible through the dark fabric covering his face.

His question made you think hard. Should you tell him? Would he laugh at you? Simon wasn't exactly an understanding person, and he never comforted anyone properly. With a shaky sigh, you shrugged.

“You said it yourself earlier, I gained weight. I tried not to, but I don’t have time anymore to be physically active asides small walks, it’s pissing me off and I understand if you think it’s not as attractive anymore-”

“Who the fuck told you that I said somethin’ as stupid and jacked up as that? Holy shit, is that all you were pissin’ yourself over? A few extra pounds?” He almost raised his voice, almost.

Reluctantly, you nodded your head and winced a bit.

He sighed heavily, his hands coming to pin down your wrists as he gently kissed your cheek. You were confused, what was happening here?

“Luv, you don’t gotta worry about my preference on your body. You’re you, you took me in and loved me in a way no one else chose to, I’m not in it for your body, I’m in it for you.”

This made your eyes water out joyful tears, this wasn’t something you heard on a regular basis, much less from someone who was way out of your league.

You gave a soft nod, and this made him fully begin to thrust into your core. That was what made you erupt in little moans, you just needed to be properly consoled.

Simon however, was going absolutely feral for the little jiggle in your tummy, the bouncing of your breasts, and the way your thighs happily squished against the mattress’ fabric.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl. Takin’ it so well, you like it? You like how my cock’s stretching this tight lil’ cunt open? Yeah, yeah you do.” He smiled softly under his mask, lightly degrading you with praise built in as he answered for you.

You were too blissed out to have even heard it.

A climax was nearing, and he moved himself into a mating press to violently assault your dripping cunt while pinning your soft body down against his.

“Simon! Gonna cum..!” You mewled out, hands clasping his shoulders before you finally spasmed and seized just to release all over his hard length.

This alone had him gasping for air, his thrusts heavy and desperate as he kissed all down your neck, sucking the skin to make hickies, before he couldn't continue it anymore.

“Fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming- shit!” He moaned out, ceasing all movements to fully release into the condom.

Huffs were the only thing you two heard for a good few moments, taking off his mask in totality to show his full submission to your trust.

Those pretty brown eyes and blonde lashes, lovely scarred cheeks and little amount of blonde stubble on his jaw and chin. Chapped lips and pinky nose. He was handsome, you felt like he could get any woman if he tried.

“Stupid British.” You teased, kissing his lips innocently before you two moved to get under the blankets to rest.

Ghost’s hands came to rub the pudge of your stomach, eyes soft as he looked at it with adoration.

“You’re like a cinnamon roll.” He murmured.

“Cinnamon roll?!” You exclaimed, laughing and kissing his cheek. “You goof.”

Ghost chuckled dryly, kissing your forehead before pulling the blanket to cover your shoulders to stay warm.

“Sleep well, cinnabon.”