#but in the darkest hour he claims it

[illhaveyouforbreakfast]

Morgana confronts Arthur's army, saying they have no hope of defeating her.

"I am a high priestess of the old religion!" She snarls, casting a spell that sends a wave of destruction at the knights. It's stopped in its tracks against a shimmering wall of energy. Merlin steps forward, eyes glowing gold, hands raised.

"And I am your god."

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon commission for Shy

Request: something in public or semi public with a ghost/s. Jealous and stalkerish ghost could be fun.

His toy

Ghost x fem!reader || free use, semi-public sex, fingering, teasing, edging, dirty talk, degradation (lowkey), praise kink (lowkey)

You could see ghosts. You could listen what ghosts had to say. But you couldn’t touch them, which never bothered you before. It had been like that all your life, but you always ignored it. Until you moved into an old home and you found yourself a ghost-stalker. And later on a boyfriend. It wasn’t your smartest idea, but he was very convincing when he wanted to be, and you were very weak when pretty ghosts with deep voices whispered naughty things as they groped your body every day.

And that’s how you got yourself a ghost boyfriend. A little shit ghost boyfriend. And you couldn’t do anything about it. You couldn’t touch him, you couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted with your body at any time he wanted to. And if you were true to yourself, you didn’t want to do anything about it. You enjoyed it as much as he did, you enjoyed being his toy to use whenever.

You enjoyed the anticipation and the uncertainty of not knowing when he was going to appear and get you off. Not knowing when he would slip his fingers inside your pussy during work hours, or when he would probe your asshole as you walked down the store, or when he would pinch your nipples so hard you would have to cover your mouth to stop the whimper from escaping your mouth. You enjoyed it, okay? You were a little pervert and he loved to remind you how much of a slutty human you were for him. How much you were able to let pass if you got an orgasm out of it. How much you really loved to be played with as if you were nothing else but a toy. He was right about all of it.

And maybe you liked a little bit more than necessary to tease his limits before he did something that you both enjoyed greatly. He usually was very calm, he enjoyed teasing and playing, but left you to live your normal life going to work and back home, enjoying some time with friends and going places without being too much of a pervert. But sometimes you craved…

Sometimes you wanted a bit more than what he wanted to offer. Sometimes you did want him to finger your asshole while you were in the middle of a work meeting. Sometimes you wanted him to tongue your pussy as you sat across your friend in a cafeteria. But he always chose the moment he would do those things no matter what you wanted. Because you were his toy to play with, not the other way around.

But you discovered a little workaround to incite the reaction you wanted. Because maybe, just maybe, you were a little shit just like he was. And you knew more than anything that he didn’t like sharing, he didn’t like you talking to other humans in a flirty way. He didn’t like not being able to claim you for everyone to see, and didn’t matter how much you assured him he was more than enough, because at the end of the day, he was a jealous prick and you liked to be reminded whose toy you were.

That’s why you are flirting a bit too strongly with the dude at the cinema. You aren’t going to do anything about it, not a change in hell, but you know he’s there. He always is. He made sure to follow you everywhere, his eyes trailing each one of your movements. You know it isn’t the healthiest of relationships, but the feeling of his eyes on you all day long, always gets you needy and desperate when you arrive home, and he loves that. But sure as hell isn’t loving the way you lean over the counter to whisper some nonsense into the dude’s ear. You giggle and look at him rapidly, his eyes burning with jealousy as you end the conversation with a wink and smile.

You know your boyfriend’s eyes are glued to you as he walks behind you, but he says nothing as he enters behind you. You planned this, so your seat is at the back, in the darkest area of the cinema, where you know nobody else would be. You can feel your panties getting wet as you approach your seat, his silent presence behind you making your body tight with tension, anticipation killing you.

“You’ve been very naughty, haven’t you sunshine?” He asks as you sit down, his hand over your thigh, right under the hem of your dress. You look around, knowing nobody but you can hear him, but nervous either way. “I told you not to flirt, my instructions weren’t hard, were they?” His tone is deep and rough, a threat underlying his words and making you shiver as he grabs your hair a bit too forcefully.

“I- I…” You don’t get to say anything before someone is shushing you from the front row. You can’t even understand how they could hear you from so far away, but the realization makes your pulse go crazy.

“You have to be quiet, sunshine, they can hear you,” he whispers as he licks the shell of your ear, making you shiver and bite down on your tongue to suppress a moan. “Now be a good girl and open those legs for me,” he instructs, his hand pulling lightly on your hair. You want to say no, you want to refuse, but he knows you won’t. “Don’t even try to refuse me, remember who owns you. You are nothing but a toy, my toy.” His last words are a growl against the side of your face and you can feel his hand pulling apart your legs harshly.

He covers your mouth with the hand that was on your hair, pressing hard against your lips and making you gasp inaudibly. You close your lips tight as he forces your legs further apart, his hand instantly finding your dripping center.

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Answer me!” He demands, pulling at your hair so hard you feel tears in your eyes. You nod, your pussy getting wetter. “You like to tease but you always cry when I punish you, such a slutty toy. And then you get this wet for being naughty…” He lets out a disappointed sound and you try to close your legs. You earn yourself a harsh slap against your soaked panties. “No. Let me be clear, sunshine, if you close your legs or come before the movie ends, you will regret it.” The threat in his tone is enough to make you shiver, your clit pulsing against his fingers as he laughs maniacally. “Now, let’s enjoy the movie.” You don’t even know which movie it is.

You think he’s going to be easy on you, but he doesn’t. He pushes your panties to the side and pushes two fingers into your dripping cunt, finger fucking you until your eyes roll back into your head. Your mouth is covered, but you are emitting those little whimpers he loves when you are desperate and needy, so close to coming. He laughs cruelly as he keeps going, taking his hand away from your mouth and side eyeing you with a smirk when a groan escapes. You cover your own mouth with your hand, but he takes it away.

“Be quiet on your own, sunshine. Or better yet, let them know how much of a slut you are for your ghost boyfriend. Such a perverted woman…”

You shiver at his words, your whole body electrified with pent up tension and the need to come. You are so close. But then he changes the movements of his hand, flicking your clit and pressing against your G-spot in a pattern that drives you insane but doesn’t let you come. Not yet.

His other hand travels up and down your side, and when you think you are safe and it’s a comforting touch, he pushes down your dress and bra to expose your boobs to the cold air of the cinema. His fingers are pinching your nipples hard, one and then the other, groping your whole boob in the middle. His fingers never stopping as he twists them up to hit your G-spot perfectly. You whimper, biting down on your lip so hard you can taste blood.

“Wha-?” You ask when he stops and his hands disappear from your body. He stands up and offers a hand to help you up, you accept it and look at him confused, your brain still dizzy and your legs trembling. “I- I didn’t-” You try.

“Oh no, sunshine,” his tone is amused and his smile cruel, “you don’t get to come, yet. You were naughty and your punishment just started.” He walks away and your legs almost give out under you, your panties a mess and your orgasm so close you can almost taste it. You want to scream, to cry, to touch yourself until you finish. But you don’t. You follow him like a good girl.

“Where- where are we?” You ask when you get out, you can barely move, the need inside of you so high you feel like you are about to shatter into a million pieces.

“The bathroom. Now,” he orders.

You walk as fast as you can, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he’s pressing your face against the door, blocking it to whoever wants to enter. He bites your neck hard and pushes your panties down. One second later his dick is buried deep inside of you, and he’s fucking in and out of you like you are nothing more than a fleshlight. And you love it.

“You. Shouldn’t. Have. Done. That.” He punctuates each word with a hard thrust that makes you see stars. You are so gone that you can’t even moan, your throat dry and your mouth parted in a silent scream as he fucks into you, his hand collaring your neck as he arches your back and drives into you over and over.

You think he says something, but your ears are ringing and his dick is hitting that place inside of you that drives you insane, your brain can’t compute any information that isn’t pleasure and desire, need and desperation. And then your orgasm clashes into your body like a tidal wave, without warning or preparation, blinding you for a few seconds as he fucks you through it.

“Did I say you could come?” He asks darkly against your ear, his pace never fluttering. You shake your head, too gone to talk. “No, I didn’t, and now I’m going to enjoy your pussy until the movie ends, and then you are going to walk out of here with my ghostly cum dripping down your legs like the slut you are, understood, sunshine?” You nod, your clit tingling at his words. He keeps fucking you against the door, his hands holding all your weight because your legs aren’t working anymore, but he doesn’t care.

After all… you are just a toy. His toy.

This commission was included in the third tier of my Patreon "monster fucker" (all info here).

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

Separate Yandere Malleus (Hubby), Rook (Hubby), Leona (Lazy), Jamil (Babygirl), Azul (Babygirl), Jade (Menace), Floyd (Menace) and Sebek x Female!Tanjiro Reader SFW and NSFW please?

She’s kind, helpful and supportive, always willing to help others and she doesn’t expect anything in return? How cute (Naive), and after getting a taste of her kindness and care, he’s not going to let her go (And is now very territorial/protective of his soon-to-be wife/wifey)

Why can I see Floyd saying ‘Wifey’? (Rook would just make poems upon poems about how much he loves calling her his ‘Darling’ or ‘Wife’ and would violently tremble in joy if she just looks at him Top Tier Romantic/Stalker)

Sorry if that’s a lot, I’m a little knew to asking about Smut Requests (But I love my Twst Men so much, especially Malleus, Idia, Rook, Jamil and Azul, they just need hugs)

This is SMUT, and consensual, despite being Yandere.

Warnings: Yandere, Stockholm Syndrome(?), naive reader, creampie, breeding(?), unprotected sex, all characters are adults, sex with the intention of having children, slight dumbification, Malleus has 1 dick (sorry monsterfuckers), somnophilia in Malleus’s

Leona Kingscholar

You supported him even in his darkest moments, no matter if he was rude to you back. You were there, and the way you would take Cheka when he wasn’t feeling super great really had him appreciating you in a way that he never thought he could before. So, once you had graduated, he asked you if you would marry him.

Of course, this comes from a much darker place in him. He was never going to let you go, even if you refused him. Luckily for him, though, you were in tears as you accepted his proposal, happy to be marrying the love of your life. You were wed rather quickly, with it being a small ceremony, and it was the first time you had seen Leona cry because you just looked so beautiful walking down the aisle. That moment was one you would cherish forever. 

Now, your wedding night was a different story. With how hard he was thrusting up into you, making you see stars. You could feel his cock pounding your insides, and you were thanking every god in existence that you married this man. You were two orgasms in already, and you were approaching a third, while he still had his first to go.

“Look at you, my naive herbivore being fucked dumb.” Just hearing those words made you falter and stutter your movements, but it didn’t stop Leona. He was making you ride him through your orgasm, and you were so sensitive. He let out a groan as he came inside you, saying, “I’m not stopping until you are filled with my cubs, baby, so you better keep going.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew you were the one when he showed you his cecaelia form for the first time. Instead of being disgusted or even afraid, you used a gentle hand as you played with the tentacles that were pulling you closer and closer. Eventually, you found yourself face-to-face with the Housewarden, and you threw your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, and he laid claim to you that night.

Years later, you both were married, and he was a successful business owner. You were in the upper-middle class of the ocean, and you both were talking about starting a family. You were already his housewife, keeping the house clean because you both agreed on it (and because he didn’t want you going anywhere that he didn’t have control over). 

You weren’t about to complain, though, because he had you in the missionary position. It’s a bit basic, but fuck did it feel good. He was desperate; desperate to fill you up, desperate for you to feel pleasure, desperate to push himself to another climax despite the overstimulation. Your legs locked around him as he started releasing ropes of cum inside you, and you had the orgasm of your life.

“I love you, honey~” Your voice was strained after about two hours of moaning. He laid down next to you, and you laid your head on his chest. He started drawing patterns on your back, and he said I love you in return. You leaned up and gave him a kiss on the lips, and then trailed it down his chest… lower and lower, until round 2 was started.

Jade Leech

You were his the day you burst into Azul’s office and demanded that your friends be let go of their contracts. Hardly anybody would have that amount of confidence, and he found himself obsessed. He’s stalking you, he’s making sure his brother knows that you are his territory and his alone. You could always smell that he was there, as he didn’t know about your keen sense of smell. But, you didn’t mind it.

Years later, you both were married, and it was an interesting marriage. Your in-laws absolutely adored you, Floyd tolerated you, and Jade was still as obsessed with you as he was back in your NRC days. In fact, he wanted to give you a reason to stay forever, so he brought up the idea of having kids. You had many siblings back in your home world, which you never found a way back to, so it was understandable that you would want a big family yourself.

So, that’s how you got here, you being folded in half, your legs being pressed to your shoulders as he pounded you into oblivion. For the past 4 hours, you have been in every conceivable position you can think of, and this was going to be your final one. If you wanted a big family, that is exactly what you were going to get.

“Darling, how many kids do you want? Do you have an exact number? Or am I going to fuck you and keep you full of children until you say that you don’t want anymore?” Just the thought of having so many kids made you orgasm. You realized that you wanted to be with this man for the rest of your life, and you wanted to be surrounded by a family that the both of you created, and you were definitely going to enjoy the process to achieve your newfound dream.

Floyd Leech

He claimed you as his also the day you walked into Azul’s office, as no one ever had the courage, bravery, or stupidity to do it. When he went to squeeze you, you wound back enough to headbutt him, making him drop you. From that point on, you had become his new obsession. You were the only one who could beat him in a fight, so it was kind of obvious that this would happen.

As much as you Floyd simps would probably want to be married to him, he’s just not that big on marriage. He’s not that big on commitment in general. However, he knows that he’s committed to you because he wants you to be committed to him. Plus, any thoughts against marriage flew out the window when he saw you stretching and yawning.

Hours later, your neck was covered in bite marks, some a bit bloody, but he just licked it all away as his cock was buried inside your cunt. He had cum inside you about 2 times by now, and your muscles were sore from being contorted into a multitude of different positions. He had a newfound need to make you his little wifey who was stuffed with his kids 24/7.

It wasn’t until there was a bit of a bulge in your stomach from all the cum he had released when he pulled out of you. You were on the verge of unconsciousness, but you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close. His body was warm, the final lull to sleep that you needed. It was a rare but sentimental Floyd, where he watched you, in such a vulnerable state… marriage is the best option to make sure you are his.

Jamil Viper

You were the first thing he could actually call ‘his’. He did not have to give you to Kalim, and he was never going to let that happen. In fact, during his overblot, he made his feelings known to you by keeping you at his side. However, you wanted your Jamil, not the one controlled and bound by the ink. After, in the infirmary, he asked if what you said still rang true, and that was where you had your first kiss.

Skip to years later, and you both were married. He still works for the Al-Asim family, but you couldn’t ask for a better husband. He has told you about his hesitancy towards having children of his own, as they would most likely serve the Al-Asim family as well. You understood, but you still wanted to have children with him. He told you that you could have one child for now, and see where it went from there.

Round 1 started right then and there, in your kitchen. He bent you over the counter, railing you from behind. Before, whenever you both would have sex, he would use protection. This time, though, he went in raw, and it was the first time ever that you both truly felt each other, and damn did it feel euphoric. You couldn’t even think anymore.

Of course, this was not exactly a fitting place if you were going to conceive your first child. So, he picked you up into his arms and carried you to your shared bedroom once you had your first orgasm of the night. There were many more to come (get it?) and you were barely getting started. You will not be able to walk for two days, and you will be walking out with hickies… mostly in between your thighs.

Rook Hunt

When he first discovered you, he immediately started stalking you. However, he wrote you sonnets, limericks, and poetry of other sorts for your eyes and ears. He sang your praises, and to lastly win over your heart, he serenaded you properly, under your window. You told him to wait there, and you ran downstairs and glomped him, making out with him on the ground. If it weren’t for his desire to make your first time special, you would have probably conceived a child right then and there.

However, he did wait until marriage… which was less than a year after you graduated. He had a steady income, and he already had a cottage in the forest in the Shaftlands. He always had a fantasy of a big family in a cottage, being a hunter and having his beloved wife by his side as an equal in the home. He cherished you, making sure that he provided for you in every way you needed. You became a housewife, as you would like to be there to take care of your children.

Speaking of, not a single night has passed since your wedding night where you haven’t fucked like rabbits. Sure, you both were still young, but you had been talking about this since you both were in NRC. You felt like you were ready to take on the challenge of rabbits. So, every night, you were filled with his cum. You were claimed as his, with all the hickies all over your body, with the sinful stretch his cock always seemed to give you… it was heaven in Twisted Wonderland.

It did not come as a surprise that you fell pregnant merely a few weeks after your wedding. The news made your beloved hunter so excited. Now, you could never leave him for your world. You had children that tied you to him. During your pregnancy, he is a devoted lover. He makes sure all your needs are met, and that includes the needs that are in the bedroom.

Malleus Draconia

You were his first friend outside of his retainers. You showed him kindness, and you were not scared of him at all. That alone made his draconic instincts want to kidnap you and keep you all to himself. However, he was able to hold off just a little, and you came to him on your own. The rose you had presented him with remains preserved, even years later, as it is a token of your love for him. He was a bit delulu, but aren’t we all?

It was a big request to ask you to marry him, as you would become the queen of a great nation of mostly fae folk. However, you were up to the challenge, and the people loved you. However, there was great pressure for an heir. Again, you were up to the challenge, but you discussed it with your husband first. You both concluded on a large family, so that the children wouldn’t grow up isolated (and totally not because Malleus wanted to see you round over and over again).

That night, all the staff had been advised to vacate the corridor in which your shared chambers resided, as you were not able to quiet yourself. You went a total of 8 rounds, one of which you were passed out for, but gave him the ‘okay’ to fuck you through that brief nap. Any chance of walking was out of the question. You could barely lift your head, and you had to be tended to by maidservants for a week. Unfortunately, Malleus couldn’t tend to you himself, as being the King meant that he was busy.

The entire realm rejoiced at the news of your pregnancy, and you had the world’s best doctors at your disposal. Everyone was concerned about making sure that the heir survived to take the throne, but they were also a tad worried about them being half-fae and half-human, as it meant that their lifespan would be shorter than a typical fae’s. Neither you nor your husband cared, however, as you were just happy to start a new chapter of your lives together.

Sebek Zigvolt

His pride denied him the pleasure of accepting his feelings for you in the first place, and he instead wrote anonymous poems for you that he would leave at your desk. You had no idea who it could be, so when someone claimed it was them, Sebek shouted that it was he who wrote the poems and not the plagiarist. He looked like he was about to fight the poor unfortunate soul, but you placed a kiss on his cheek, telling him that you accepted his feelings and not the other person’s.

About the topic of marriage… he would prioritize being a knight first. However, when he sees a time in his career, he will definitely get married to you. He enjoyed that he was in Briar Valley often and he just needed to train new recruits, and he would return home to you cooking dinner. As for children, the topic would blurt out of his mouth as you voiced your sadness about being lonely. You loved the idea, and as irresponsible as it was, the way you looked at him with newfound dreams in your eyes, he carried you to the bedroom and started right away.

You had discovered that Sebek had a hidden breeding kink, and he loved seeing your face as he came inside you over and over. The husband you thought you knew was giving into the primal instincts deep within him, and you were loving it. His fangs had made their mark all over your neck and shoulders, claiming you despite the ring on your finger showing you were taken.

The Zigvolt family, as well as Lilia, Silver, and King Malleus, were all excited when you announced your pregnancy. However, only the two of you would know what sinful things took place for this to happen. Know that this is not your only child, even if you don’t actually have another one. He wants at least two, and he is willing to adopt.

[lizardboiii]

Tongue Tied┃One Piece - Pt. 2

[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]

│Summary: Washed up on a gloomy shore, your only solace is a dark an empty castle. Yet, when the castle's only resident finally returns, you are met with an undeniable problem. The language you speak is completely dead to his world.

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

・❥・

│cw: SFW, 18+, unfortunate slow start

│wc: 1.4k

│chapters: I II III

│notes: accidentally wrote the reader as such a golden retriever lmao. also, please let me know if the switch between languages is getting hard to understand! shorter chapter cause i'm overworked ;(

・❥・

│Chapter II: Golden Hour

Ever-eerie. Ever-present. Ever-gold. 

The undeniable sensation of watchful eyes consumed you as you haunted the castle’s halls. They followed from vestibule to vestibule. The source of them hiding somewhere in the darkest of corners. Sometimes…Goldy seemed more phantom than man.

It was foreign at first, the omnipresent feeling of sharp eyes piercing through you. They reigned supreme. Placing every action you made on trial, Goldy played the judge, jury, and executioner.

Eventually, you learned to pay his stare no mind, preferring to slowly attempt communication with the ravenette in your native tongue. 

The aforementioned man merely allowed you to rattle on. He treated your voice as if it was simply background noise, disregarding your presence like a lesser being. 

Goldy’s pride scarcely made a dent in your determination. In fact, after a few days had passed, you no longer clung close to the walls, favoring to follow the massive man around like a lost duckling. 

Your previous isolation had made you needy.

Before you knew it, you and Goldy had developed a routine - whether he liked it or not. Your day started earlier than most. The sun just barely rising before you stirred awake from a restless sleep. You found Goldy preferred to slumber longer. His form not stalking the halls till an hour later, possibly more.

Until then, you’d pad around the empty halls. You walked with no destination in mind, noting any foyers you preferred over another. And when you scoured the entire castle - you’d start again. The soles of your feet wore into the stone. You were sure if you looked hard enough, you could see the beginnings of a path in the shape of your feet.

At last, Goldy would awaken. He moved with little disturbance, often evading your notice. However, whether he was outside refining his skill in the art of sword or simply relaxing in the parlor, you always managed to find him.

Today was no different. 

You had been meandering throughout western wing, absentmindedly tracing the serpentine engravings of the coffered ceilings with your eyes. Then, a wedge of light caught your attention. 

You dropped your gaze, glancing out of one of the many floor length windows. Its cracked windowsill framed a direct view of the northwestern courtyard. 

Through the quickly fading golden hour, you could just make out the form of Goldy. He sat passively in a cushioned chair facing the sea. 

A fresh newspaper was clutched in his hand while the other held an opaque chalice. Across from him was a chess table. However, no second chair existed for another player to claim.

You smiled at your discovery, you had found him faster than usual. It didn't take long for your form to gently glide towards the window. Curiosity consumed you. Standing before the window enthralled, you watch every movement Goldy made intently. 

When he yawned - so did you. 

When he rubbed his chin - you followed in suit. 

When he re-crossed his legs - you shifted your feet.

Your mimicry didn't last long. As quickly as you noticed him, he noticed you. Without warning, Goldy’s eyes flung to your own, drilling into them. You jumped in surprise. Even after a week of dancing around each other, you still couldn't get used to their divine aureolin. 

Regaining composure, you grinned at him with a wave. Goldy ignored your hospitality. He was quick to return to his newspaper, feigning ignorance. However, you were sure he understood what would come next.

You barreled towards the courtyard. Skipping steps and slamming doors, you easily found your way to the grumpy man. Goldy remained unfazed at your sudden appearance. 

You walked beside his chair with a large smile, excited to talk to someone other than yourself. 

“𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐!”

Your voice drew a puff of air from the man, his eyes shifting to you for only a moment. You hummed at the attention. Plopping down on the ground, you rested your head against the arm of his chair.

“𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?” You beamed at the man above you.

Flip.

You turned your gaze to the sea, “𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕?”

Flip.

Your composure began to waiver, “𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢? 𝙸 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝!”

Flip.

Finally, the smile you forced dropped, “𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎.” You picked at the grass beneath you, “𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎.”

A long sigh made you jolt in surprise. Goldy tossed his newspaper on the side table next to him in annoyance. Two firm fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose.

“Just what are you chattering about?” 

You perked up at the response, returning your gaze to the ravenette, “𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢, 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢?”

He met your excited gaze coolly. You could practically see the gears in his head turning, frustrated with the fact he wouldn't be able to pull answers from you.

Goldy leaned his head on his hand, refusing to move his eyes off of you, “What am I going to do with you?”

Your mouth curved into a small smile. Although you couldn't understand him, you've determined your second favorite thing about Goldy was his voice.

You turned back to the sea solemnly. Even though you could see his imposing figure, hear his rich cadence - it was as if nothing had changed. You still felt so utterly alone. 

The crashing waves called you home, beckoning your aching heart. Beyond them, bobbing up and down, Goldy’s ship offered itself. A way back home. 

A way back to sanity.

Pointing your finger at the ship, you snapped your head over to the older man, “𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢, 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

Goldy raised a sharp brow at your sudden outburst. 

You chewed your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to articulate your thoughts. Determined, you pointed at him, “𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢.”

Then, you pointed to the ship, "𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝.”

A low rumble escaped his chest before he gestured to himself, “Goldy?”

You shook your head enthusiastically, “𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚢!”

“You named me?” He spoke more to himself than you, rubbing the pointed edges of his beard. Displeased, Goldy quickly shook his head, “No.”

You tilted your head in confusion. Had he rejected the name? 

Goldy swished the glass in his hand, “Mihawk.” 

You tasted the name on your tongue, carefully mouthing every syllable, “Mi-hawk?”

A faint smile grew on his face, “Mihawk.”

Grinning, you signaled to yourself, “(𝚢/𝚗)!”

“(𝚢/𝚗)?” He placed the chalice to his lips, “You’re quite a troublesome brat, “(𝚢/𝚗).”

Your stomach flipped at the sound of your name. You hoped he'd say it more.

Pointing at the ship once more, you called out to him, "Mihawk. 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝.”

Mihawk followed your finger, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝?” His brows furrowed slightly before relaxing, “Do you want my boat?”

He stood suddenly, as if he connected the dots he had been chasing. Ignoring your confused form, Mihawlk allowed his long legs to lead him to the path back to the castle. He looked back only for a moment. His large hand beckoning you to follow in suit. 

You stood quickly, fumbling over your own feet. You couldn't lose this chance. 

Mihawk walked briskly, winding through the castle halls before he led you to large french doors. You had seen them before during your morning strolls. However, you were never able to investigate what was hidden behind them. Mihawk kept them under lock and key. 

Reaching inside his pocket, the aforementioned man pulled out a small silver key. It glimmered under the sunlight enhancing the skull design on its embossed head. As quick as he revealed it, he unlocked the room.

The door swung open ominously. The darkness of the room seemed to creep out into the hallway, dying the floor black. Even so, Mihawk entered the room without hesitation. You wasted no time following close behind.

Eventually, Mihawk allowed himself to relax in an armed car across from the room’s fireplace. Taking out a pen and paper, he offered the utensils to you. You gladly accepted them. 

Twirling the pen in your hand, you tried to ignore Mihawk’s piercing stare. 

First, you began to draw a boat. Beneath it you labeled:

“𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝.”

Next, you drew an arrow leading to a small island with a house on it. Beneath which you wrote:

“𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎.”

Looking up from your drawings, you smiled at Mihawk eagerly. However, your grin quickly dropped at Mihawk’s expression.

You had never seen Mihawk’s face get so pale.

“This is impossible.”

Mihawk snatched the paper from your grip. 

“How could you possibly know…”

His eyes searched your writing frantically.

“Poneglyph.”

・❥・

[solavita]

the early morning — aegon targaryen

pairing ; aegon targaryen x fem!reader

words ; less than 1k

summary ; an early morning between you and your lover, aegon targaryen.

warning(s) ; fingering, mentions of death?, light fluff.

In the darkest moments of the morning, just before the world awakens, Aegon Targaryen is truly yours. It is in those fleeting hours between the dying of the night and the rise of the sun that the burdens of his bloodline melt away, and the man behind the crown finds his way to your bed. When you had closed your eyes, the sheets were cold and empty, the silence of the night vast and unbroken. Now, with the first glimmer of dawn creeping through the heavy curtains, you feel the shift of the mattress, his presence as familiar as it is haunting.

You hadn't heard him enter, though you knew well enough when he must have come—somewhere between the witching hour and the first whispers of birdsong. The hours in which shadows clung to his skin like a second mantle, and the weight of his duty as prince was a curse carried back to your chamber.

Later, perhaps, you would ask about where the night had taken him, but for now, you merely watched him. His silver hair, once blazing in the light of day, now appeared almost spectral, gleaming faintly in the low glow of the candle that had burned down to its final flicker. The deep scars on his hands—those long, deft fingers which had known both the steel of swords and the delicate weight of crowns—rested against the curve of your waist. Beneath the rich silks and furs, his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his breath, yet there was a tension even in his sleep, a coiled force held within his every exhale.

You shifted slightly, turning to face him, careful not to disturb his slumber. His dark lashes, long and curled like those of a boy, lay against pale skin, a stark contrast to the shadows beneath his eyes. Even in sleep, Aegon looked like a ruler carved from ancient stone, cold and beautiful, touched by the cruel weight of destiny.

His violet eyes fluttered open, catching the faintest hint of the coming dawn. Though groggy with sleep, there was an intensity in his gaze as if even in this sanctuary he could never truly rest. He looked at you, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You watch me as if you expect me to disappear,” he rasped, voice thick with sleep, but edged with something darker. His grip tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, until your body lay draped over his.

Straddling his hips, you ran your fingers along the length of his chest, tracing the scars that littered his skin. The faint pulse beneath your touch was steady, though his body felt tense, like a sword waiting to be unsheathed. His silver hair, splayed across the pillows, gleamed like the edge of a blade, and his violet eyes—sharp, unrelenting—reminded you of the ancient dragonfire that still burned in his blood.

“I watch to make sure you’re real,” you murmured, voice soft as your lips ghosted over his, teasing, as you pressed a gentle kiss to the line of his jaw. “Some nights, you return as a ghost.”

Aegon chuckled low, though the sound held no real warmth. His lips quirked into a sardonic smile as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Perhaps I am a ghost,” he whispered against your skin, voice a breath away from dangerous. “Wraiths, after all, belong to the night.”

You tried to retort, but he silenced you with a kiss, his mouth claiming yours in a way that left no room for resistance. It was an unspoken reminder that, no matter how tender these stolen moments seemed, he was still a Targaryen—born of fire, tempered in blood. His tongue slid past your lips, tasting of smoke and something bitter, a flavor that lingered long after the kiss broke.

But he wasn’t done with you, not yet.

Before you could recover, he rolled his hips forward, a deliberate grind that sent a shiver through your body. His smirk deepened at the sound of your sharp intake of breath. "You like playing these games, don’t you?" he whispered, voice laced with both amusement and warning. His hands moved down your sides, calloused fingers gripping your hips with bruising intensity, guiding you into a slow, torturous rhythm.

"Your games bore me, Aegon," you teased, though the tremor in your voice betrayed you. "I’m only here to remind you of what you leave behind when you disappear into the dark."

"Then remind me," he growled, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat as he left marks that would stain your skin for days—signs of possession, reminders of the dragon’s claim. His lips, once soft, now pressed against your neck with a brutal tenderness, as though he was both worshipping and devouring you. You felt his hunger in the way he kissed you, in the desperate grip he had on your waist, the insistent way his hips bucked beneath yours.

You couldn’t help but think, in that moment, how dangerous he was—how dangerous it was to love a man like him. Aegon Targaryen was the embodiment of something raw, something unbreakable, as though the fire that lived within him would one day consume everything in its path. Yet, despite that danger—or perhaps because of it—you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him.

But as he pushed you down onto your back, his fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric of your undergarments, spreading your slickness with a low, predatory groan, you realized that you never had a choice. You were bound to him as surely as he was to the throne, to the dragons, to the legacy of his family. His fingers thrust into you with deliberate intent, preparing you for something that you knew would leave you breathless.

As he worked you with the same ruthless precision that he ruled, you clung to him, drowning in the intensity of his presence. And as your world collapsed into the feel of his body over yours, you understood just how inescapable he was—Aegon Targaryen, the dragon king who held you in the grip of his fire, claiming you over and over again.

What you could not know, as you lay beneath him, lost in the tempest of his touch, was that his mind was already elsewhere. In the dead of night, Aegon had searched for something—a ring, a crown of his own making. Soon, he would offer it to you, asking you to be his queen, to stand beside him in the darkness of the throne.

And you would belong to him, just as he belonged to the fire.

[transalphabf]

1000th Post - My Prince

Your kingdom had been at battle for ten years now, starting when you were but a child, you didn't know why or how it started, but the war with the neighbouring kingdom had been long and bloody. The enemy had cut swathes of land apart until they were finally at your door.

A general entered the throne room, where you stood as the last member of the royal family left in the kingdom. Your mother had fled to her home nation, your father cut down in battle, sisters had gone with marriages elsewhere or with your mother.

You, the crown prince, remained. You held your head high as you were surrounded by the filthy animals that had taken your land.

These wolf warriors, as they were known in their own kingdom, with their foul Lupine Lord were not justified in what they did, in battling your people over false claims.

You snarled and snapped when they came too close, but otherwise didn't move. You were their captive already, they had no right to touch you.

Then, their King entered. They all fell onto one knee as he swept into the room.

His dark eyes drank you in, and he approached you without fear, markings along his face indicative of his fur markings when he transformed. It was an unsightly thought, that a man could shift his skin into that of an animal's.

He showed no fear as he drew close to you, taking hold of your face in one of his large, calloused hands. You thrashed and tried to hit him, but he took hold of your hand when you tried to strike him.

"You will be my bride, and we will end this war now. No more blood need be shed because your people are pelt hunters." He commanded. You felt your blood drain from your face. Forced marriage? Yes, it would save your people, but you didn't want to be his bed warmer...

He growled lowly, and you felt yourself whine in response, his hand tightening around your throat.

"We will be married now, in the way of my people, meaning you'll be bound to me. We will have a public ceremony later." He instructed, and the warriors and generals around you whistled and hooted in their lewd, filthy joy as their king pushed you towards the throne, your father's throne, the throne that would have been yours.

They'd all watch as he took your virginity right there. You kicked as he tugged at your trousers, exposing your cunt to the cool air of the room.

The watchers howled with excitement. The king grinned wolfishly, not having known you were able to bear his children. He wouldn't even need to make the effort to prep you. You thrashed in his grip as he gripped your hair and bent you over the arm of the throne, your hands gripping at the other arm to prevent your face being smashed against the wood as he began to rub at your cocklet, the sensation of pleasure making you gasp and arch up instinctively, not expecting such a feeling to be caused by someone else. It felt different to when you rubbed yourself in the darkest hours of the night.

He then brushed something large and hot against your thigh, smearing wetness against you as you began to fight again.

Then, his thick, hot cockhead pressed into your untouched cunt, sheathing every last inch into you without waiting for your body to adjust to the invasion. You cried out as the tip kissed something deep inside of you, and as the king began to move inside of you, leaning down to huff against your throat.

"You're so fucking tight, my prince. You're going to bear me a whole litter of pups, and you're going to love it. I can tell already, your cunt is so desperate that you're dripping with need already." He taunted, before humping into you roughly, the soldiers jeering, some of them rubbing their cocks as they watched you.

The sounds being forced out of your slutty body embarrassed you, because you sounded so desperate for the way the king was using you. He was pressing against everything inside of you, and your traitorous body was loving it. You could feel something building inside of you as he continued drilling you.

Something began to swell at the base of his cock when it pressed into your cunt. Your eyes went wide as you realised the rumours that their cocks were wolfish... were entirely true. And you were going to hang off of his knot like a common bitch.

You began to fight again, trying to break free, which just made him moan and growl against you, and his cock throb and feel bigger as he pounded you harder.

"That's it, fight back, makes you go so tight on my cock." He taunted, before something inside of you gave way, and your whole body tightened up as you came on his thick, invading cock, which in turn caused his knot to be pressed deep inside of you and swell up, locking his cock inside of you, the tip pressed against something deep within - your cervix - as he began to pump you full of his thick, hot cum, spurt after spurt of his potent seed ensuring that you'd bear his heirs.

The kingdom was taken.

If you enjoyed this please consider tipping on my ko f: ko-fi .com/ sigtryggr

(remove the spaces)

[bloatedandalone04]

Love Like Ours

➪the one where you and jj sneak off during a keg party for some alone time.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, making out, alcohol consumption, groping, pda, indications of smut, hi i finished season one in a single day and couldn’t help myself, mwah

Word Count: 1.5k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ THANK YOU FOR 4.5k FOLLOWERS

Agreeing to have a kegger at the beach was not something you wanted to do, especially after you found out that JJ had taken the gun from that dingy, sketchy motel room. But now that darkness had taken over and left the beach drowning in shadows and the moonlight, and now that you had consumed a fair amount of beer and booze, you were very happy you ended up going instead of staying at home by yourself.

JJ, your oh so poise boyfriend of two years, was by your side, a red cup in his hand and his arm thrown over your shoulders. The beer in the cup was spilling onto you, but you were far too gone to care at this point, and you only laughed as the amber liquid rolled down your arm and got absorbed by your shirt.  

His signature red hat was placed on your head instead of his own in a not so subtle claim of territory over you, because in JJ’s eyes you were far too good for him and completely out of his league, but you’d never catch him admitting to that out loud. 

It was dark, but you were still able to see the pink blush that formed on JJ’s neck and face at the amount of beer he’s consumed since the party started. “We should have a fire,” you suggest in a dreary tone and JJ’s eyes widened as if it was the best idea he’s heard all night. 

“We should totally have a fire,” he agreed and finished off the drink before tossing the cup aside. “How do we make a fire?” He couldn’t finish the question without laughing, and you join in as you cling onto his muscle tee to steady yourself.

“I don’t know,” you answer and look around the sand. “Sticks. We need sticks.”

You step away from JJ in order to begin your quest of finding something to start a fire with, and he watched with hooded eyes as you stumbled along the sand, a small and content smile on his lips. “Hey, JJ,” John B greeted as he slung his arm around his best friend’s shoulders. “What is our girl doing, man?”

“Our girl?” JJ scoffed just as you made your way back to him and threw your body against his, draping your arms around his neck as you connected your lips in a kiss. He kissed you back, stepping away from John B until his arm fell back to his side. “Think you mean my girl.” He mumbled once he pulled away and you grinned up at him, pressing multiple kisses to his cheek. 

“Glad the two of you don’t give a shit about the no Pogue on Pogue macking rule, huh?” John B laughed and drank from his own red cup. 

“Nah,” JJ confirmed, wrapping his arm around your middle. “Think we stopped caring about that rule a long time ago, right, baby?”

You nod and tug him away from your friend. “So long ago,” you agree and turn away from him but keep your hand firmly bunched up in his shirt. “Sticks, JJ, we need to go find sticks.”

John B furrowed his brows and laughed as he watched you and JJ drunkenly stumble towards the darkest part of the beach. “Yes, sticks,” JJ replied and wrapped his arms around you from behind. Before you could wander off again, he pulled you back against his chest, making you release a surprised laugh. “I don’t want to have a fire right now, babe, I want to get you alone.”

You blush and lean back against him. “We kinda already are alone,” you point out, but you still had to raise your voice over the music and loud chatter around you. 

“More alone,” he reiterated and leaned down to press a kiss to the side of your neck. He pulls away and grabs your hand, guiding you towards the path that leads up to the docks. “Come on. Come with me.”

You laugh and allow him to tug you along with him back up the dirt path you came down a few hours ago. “Where are we going?” 

“Away from all the noise,” he answered and threw his head back with a loud groan. “God, is there usually all this noise?”

You laugh again and stop, pulling your hand from his just to grab hold of both sides of his face and press a deep kiss to his mouth. Any other complaints die on his tongue as he kisses you back, his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair that was messy from the late night breeze off the water. 

The noise was fainter now, but you could still somewhat hear the conversations of both the Pogues and Kooks, informing you that you weren’t quite isolated from the party yet. 

You run the tip of your tongue along JJ’s bottom lip when he tries to deepen the kiss, then pull away with a teasing smirk. “I thought you wanted to get me alone,”  

JJ matches your smirk and leans down to kiss the skin below your ear, and the quiet moan you let out had him laughing to himself. “Sorry, I got distracted,” he says and tangles his fingers with yours again. “Let’s get out of here.”

You follow him back up the path and along the boat docks until you reach one that very clearly belongs to one of the Kooks. It was massive and put all the boats you’ve been on to shame, so when JJ dared to step onto it with a questioning look in his eyes, you were powerless to stop yourself from going after him. 

He holds his hand out to you and you jump from the dock and onto the boat with a small squeal, and then you are back in your boyfriend’s arms as he connects your lips again in another deep kiss. 

You laugh into the kiss and run your hands up his sides under his shirt. “Whose boat is this?” You ask in between rushed kisses, and JJ pulls away to glance around the abandoned and dark boat. 

“I have no idea,” he replied and kissed you again, making you grin against his lips. His hands slid up from their place on your hips and began squeezing at your chest, and the air was quickly getting hotter and hotter. Your own hands move to grip at his biceps, and his sleeveless shirt gave you perfect access to them. They flex under your touch and you moan at the feeling as JJ backs you up against the wall of the boat. “I want you.”

You break away and tilt your head back against the wall as he begins placing open mouth kisses to your neck. “Here?” You breathlessly ask and softly dig your nails into his skin. 

“Why not?” He questioned, reaching behind you to slip his hands in the back pockets of your shorts. “How hot would it be to fuck on some random persons boat? Only we’d know what happened on it whenever we pass by this thing in the water.”

The invitation was definitely tempting, and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want him, too. The idea of fucking against the wall of a Kook’s fancy yacht had you growing more and more needy for him, and you could feel him pressing against you in his shorts as he also grew needy for you.

You turn your head and can faintly see the outlines of the party goers further down the beach, and the semi public setting of this little makeout session had you moaning rather loudly. 

Turning back to him, you kiss him and brush your tongue against his, tangling your hands in his blond hair and tugging on it. “Think John B was feeling a little left out back there,” you change the topic as JJ unzipped your shorts. “Almost made me feel bad that he’s alone now.”

“Don’t,” JJ practically begged, giving up on his mission of ridding you of your shorts in order to pick you up and hold you against the wall. “Please, do not make us go back there. John B’s fine, I promise. He just wishes he has what we have, but this is just for us.”

You bite down on your lip and tightly wrap your legs around his waist. His words were sweet, and this was a side of JJ that only you got to see, and on the rare occasion. “We’re pretty good together, huh?” 

JJ groans and pulls away from your collar bone to look you in the eye. “We’re amazing together,” he corrected and you grip his shoulders to hike yourself up a bit higher, his hat falling off your head in the process. 

“He’ll be fine,” you state and pull at JJ’s hair. 

He closes his eyes at the tug and confirms your words, “He’ll be fine,” 

You smile and kiss him for the hundredth time today. “Now, what were you saying before? Something about only us knowing what happened on this Kook’s boat?”

[hanasnx]

code mistake

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: sexual content | mild gunplay | sexual harassment | flirting | enemies to lovers

“Now, where do you think you’re goin’?” The deep, digitally edged voice of the ARKHAM KNIGHT miraculously cuts through the ringing in your ears. The bullet hole dug into the concrete above your head smokes, and you breathe in its fumes, your hands over your head in a defensive pose. His warning shot. Laying on your stomach, you’d attempted to crawl away, and at the sound of his heavy boots sauntering after you, you’re secure enough to lift your head. You check his location, and he’s right on top of you.

“Wait!” you plea, raising a hand to him only for his glove to clamp around your wrist. Your socket aches as he yanks on your arm, lifting you in a swift motion to cup his forearm under your thighs and sling you over his shoulder. Your stomach makes contact with it, the air in your lungs huffing out with a groan as he straightens to his dizzying full height. “Let- me- go!” The fear of his gun had worn off, now carrying you to a car he’d called for back-up while you thrash in his grip.

“Easy there, little miss.” His one arm strapped around your legs by the inside of your knees, keeps you secure as he jostles you, making you emit another yelp from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm. “Wouldn’t want another accident, would we?” Your hands brace against his lower back, picking yourself up to observe your surroundings. The wreckage of the militant car you’d crashed lies waiting for Batman to inspect it. Surely you made sure the driver crashed for good reason, and you’d rolled out at the last second. Unscathed save for a few bruises and scrapes. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take good care of you. Until I don’t need you anymore.”

You bend your spine to glare at the back of his helmet. “He’s gonna find you.” you claim defiantly, pressing your lips into a thin line as he approaches the new car.

“Yeah? Let him. That’s what you’re for.” A queasiness sets in the pit of your stomach. The combination of adrenaline, your unfortunate circumstances, and the fact you’re leading Batman right to this enemy. “You got quiet there, sweetheart. You shocked?” his proud remark is met with your rally, sharply inhaling through your nose and opening your mouth to bite back when you’re interrupted. You squeak as you’re thrown into the backseat, your ass hitting the cushion and bouncing to a stop as he climbs in after you. There was no time to let you adjust before he invited himself in, his knee resting on the outside of your leg with the sole of his shoe planted firmly on the floor of the car. You see how he gently sways in his standing position as the vehicle departs, and your mouth dries from his compromising straddle. It’s disgustingly intimate. “If I didn’t know any better, babygirl, I’d say you’re enjoying this.” An indignant expression takes over your countenance, scrambling until your back hits the opposite door. He chuckles, sitting down where your legs once were on the seat. Leisurely, he rests his wrist on his propped up knee, keeping his gun handy. It taps and your breathing intensifies.

So as to not make any sudden moves, you’re tentative in your action to sit forward, and you keep your eye on him from the side. “Where are you taking me?” you question, failing to entirely conceal the quiver in your voice. He and his militia had plucked you from the Clock Tower, having been aiding the Bat in his endeavor to take back Gotham in its darkest hour.

The Arkham Knight shifts in his seat, and you hear a jingle. “Oh. Almost forgot.” There’s a tone of amusement in his phrase as he invades your space again; instinctively you shy away, but he snatches your wrist, raising your arm and cuffing you to the handle on the roof. “Can’t have you trying to get away again.” You wish you could stop hearing the grating technical noise of his mask when he talks, whatever he uses to veil his true auditory signature from any voice recognition. When you face him, you’re taken aback by how much closer he is to you. The eyes of his helmet remain on you as you press yourself to the window. Harshly, his hand comes to pinch your jaw between his fingers and his thumb, and your brows knit together as he examines you, adjusting you side-to-side. “What’s so special about you, huh?”

You yank out of his hold, incredulous over his question. “What are you talking about?”

“The Bat. He’s coming after you. Shouldn’t matter to me why, but it does. He got a little thing for you?” The knuckle of his index finger brushes up your thigh flirtatiously, and you jerk it away.

“No.” you answer.

“You sure?” A lilt of surprise to his tone has you bewildered, eyeing him up as he hums. “That’s lucky.”

The crease in your brows deepen as a curl of disgust tugs at your upper lip. “Is it?”

His arm stretches up, revealing the view of his gun in his other hand, reminding you of its ever-weighing presence. Suddenly your boldness is once again depleting, you don’t notice until it’s settled that his arm now rests behind your head on the back of the vehicle seat, curling around you, tucking you into the space in his side. “Sure. You know, there’s not much to do up at the safehouse. We could…” as he trails, the end of his weapon seeks you out, and your heartbeat quickens at the sight of a gun tracing down your chest. “have a little fun of our own while the Bat catches up to us,” Its tip hesitates at the neckline of your shirt, and you exhale deeply, caving in your chest with a gulp. The gun catches on the hem, tugging it down enough to show him your cleavage. “how’s that sound?”

[herfinestblog]

JEALOUS GIRL !

SYNOPSIS. Casual flings are supposed to consist of boundaries and no strings attached but what happens when feelings get in the way?

FEATURING. gojo x fem! reader

VIEWERS DISCRETION. fwb, unprotected sex, pet names: gorgeous and sweetheart , fuck buddies to lovers, missionary, mentions of jealousy, size difference , toru and reader are both in their 20s, sensual sex .

“Were you jealous, sweetheart? Seeing me with another woman other than you?”

You? jealous? never. You could never be jealous of seeing another woman with satoru gojo. It’s not like the two of you were together anyways. He was only the man who fucked you dumb whenever you called him over in the middle of the night. Did you like the monster that rest between his legs? maybe. did you like him? of course not. . . right?

Maybe you did tend to grow a little vex when he flirted with other women and having them flack around him like he was some type of eye candy. You weren’t to fond of sharing him with other women. But you couldn’t blame them. Satoru had the charm and the looks that could let him woo any woman he wanted— including you. Maybe your feelings did start to grow. You knew Satoru wasn’t one to necessarily stick to one woman and settle down. or so you thought.

Just a mere friends with benefits. There was no surprise forming a friends with benefits with the blue eyed playboy, Satoru Gojo. The first time he did fuck you was when you were both drunk at a party, sucking away at each other's faces which lead you both with your clothes scattered on the floor and in the same bed. The way Satoru made your body feel that night wasn't something to forget.

“mhm. I could never be jealous. .” You moaned lying straight through your teeth. his cock stretching you out as your back arched. Satoru grabs your leg hooking his hand underneath the curve of your knee. “Never? Tsk, liar.” Satoru chuckled rolling his hips and somehow pushing himself deeper into you. “Fuck. The way ya clenching around me says otherwise,” he mumbled as you squeezed around him.

“S-shut up.”

Satoru left wet kisses up your chest and that spot on your neck that made you weak. Satoru slaps his heavy cock over your wet cunt before aligning himself with hole. You moaned when his cock slowly split you open. He’s so big. You can never get over the stretch of his cock, no matter how many times you and Satoru have sex.

“Tell me, gorgeous, You want me all to yourself yeah?” He lifted one of your legs placing it over his shoulder. The angel allowed him to dig deeper. His cock hit that spot inside you that made your toes curl and eyes become glossy. With each stroke, he fills you clenching around him. You were too busy moaning to hear what he was saying.

"Answer me." He whispered in your ear kissing your cheek. His thumb harshly rubbing at your clit made your legs tremble. Was it selfish to want Satoru all to yourself? You weren’t his and the same as him to you. You both are single individuals that can freely sleep with anyone you want to. But you didn’t want anybody else. You only let Satoru touch you and claim your pussy at the darkest hours of the night as he pleased. You surely don’t just want to be fuck buddies with him.

He knew his way around your body. Maybe it was the way he fucked you. he would fuck you dumb on his cock filling you to the brim with his cum. Other times he fucked you slowly like he didn’t want to break you. Or maybe when he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear and holds your hand as you cum together.

Even the little things he did, made you shamefully wet. When he would rub his colossal hand on your thigh while you’re rambling to him about your shitty job or when he's making.

“Yes. I want you ‘toru!” Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest after making your confession. Your skin collided together as he thrust into you. somehow going even deeper, the feeling almost has your eyes rolling back. Satoru lets out breathy moans every time you clench around him. Storu was someone you didn't know you needed until you found yourself craving for him.

“I know you do.” He said letting out a breathy chuckle and a smile forming on his lips.

Cocky bastard. The buff man put his weight onto you as you squirmed. your bottom lip poking out as you whined. Satoru lips brushed against yours before smashing his lips onto yours kissing you sloppily. Moaning into his mouth. He knew just how to make you weak. “mm fuck. I love you, gorgeous. Love having you as my good girl.” Satoru liked have a pretty girl like you in his arms.

“You love me?” you mumbled against his lips struggling to kiss him back. he just knew how to make you weak. the lewd squelching your pussy makes as he drills his cock into you has your eyes rolling back. “ ‘course I do.” He watches your lack of ability to look him in the eye while he fucked you. babbling about how good he’s fucking you. "S-Shit. I'm close ‘toru."

"Hold it for a little longer, baby." He’s so sensitive. he continues to thrust into you. His thrusts become more forceful, each one sending you both closer to your orgasm. he’s hitting your cervix making you cry for him. He’s watching the faces you’re making as you whimper underneath him. Satoru could never get enough of you. he’s addicted to you.

“Toru I can’t hold it much longer.” He’s moaning with you as you gush all over his cock. “It’s alright, baby. Let it all out.” Soon shooting spurts of his thick cum inside you before falling on top of you. Storu nearly collapses onto you, panting heavily. He stayed inside you a little longer catching his breath before you whine when you feel him twitching inside you. He pulls out, his cum flowing onto the sheets.

[weaveandwood]

Stay

Smutty one-shot based on a prompt from this list. Will tell the prompt at the end!

Pairing: Gale x Female Tav Words: 2.2K Summary: After spending the previous night confessing feelings and spending the night entwined in the stars, Gale and Tav enjoy the evening together at camp. warnings: vaginal sex

Tav lounged against a plush pile of pillows with a book in her lap and held out her cup for a refill as Gale popped the cork on a second bottle of wine for the evening, a reward for making through another tough day in the Shadow Cursed Lands. Retreating to Gale’s tent in the late hours of the evening when everyone went back to their own tents, spending the hours drinking wine and reading, talking, or flirting (though neither would openly admit to the flirting) had become their habit as of late. At a certain point, Tav would remark on the time and how they had another long day ahead of them before heading back to her tent to spend the darkest hours of the night alone, her hand traveling down her own body and imagining it was Gale’s as she brought herself her own pleasure. 

After last night, though…would a night spent confessing love and being entwined in the stars change anything? 

Laughter turned into gentle teasing about the way he always pointed his finger up when he thought he had someone backed into a logical corner, the way she snorted when she really laughed, the way he spent more time looking for discarded books in locations than looking for gold or food or actual items of use. 

“Well, if I didn’t look for books, we wouldn’t have nearly the ample reading material we do now for our evenings together would we? Then you wouldn’t have any reason to come into my tent each night,” he took a sip of wine. “And I would be dreadfully sorry for that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and took a long drink from her cup, finishing it. “Fine, fine, you have me there, I can’t argue with that. I do enjoy our evenings,” she smiled, feeling a heat crawl up her neck to her cheeks as she returned her focus to her book. Or attempted to, at least - she could think of a litany of reasons to come into his tent at night, several of them coursing through her mind at that very moment. With that, she knew the hour was getting late. The wine was starting to go to her head and her cheeks were flushing much easier than they ever would in daylight. She should start to make her way back to her tent. 

Engrossed in a passage, she heard a rustling of fabric and felt a comforting presence next to her. “Get lonely over there?” she smiled, still looking at the book. 

He leaned across her to refill her cup again, the second bottle of wine now empty  “It looked like you needed a refill, but you were so lost in words I wouldn’t have dreamed of interrupting you,” he said softly. His mouth was so close to her ear, she could feel his warm breath on her neck. The tent suddenly felt like they were back at the Grymforge, impossibly hot. 

“Hmm, perhaps, but it’s getting so late. Maybe I should go,” she whispered, starting to slowly close her book - not really wanting to leave, but not wanting to assume anything. 

“Surely you don't want to go to your tent?” He asked, pressing his lips gently to her neck. She closed her eyes, feeling the flush in her cheeks redden. Gods, that felt good. 

“Where else would I go?” she asked, tilting her head slightly and granting him more access to the sensitive skin she wanted him to lay claim to with his mouth.

He continued kissing her neck, up to her earlobe. “You could stay,” he whispered before placing his hand under her chin, turning her to face him. He looked at her through half-lidded eyes, his gaze trailing from her lips to her own eyes, then back again. He took the book from her lap and gently placed it behind him. There would be no more reading tonight. 

“I could stay,” she whispered back. 

He crashed his lips against hers, the first time they had kissed again since their confessions to each other the night before. Words of love and a chaste kiss followed by a wondrous vision of Waterdeep, then limbs tangling as they bonded in the Weave, it’s gentle strands wrapping around them and becoming one with them as she experienced a feeling she wasn’t quite sure she’d ever experience again - something more than pleasure, more than peace.

Still, as she parted her lips for him and felt their tongues sliding together, she couldn’t help but feel like this was better somehow. 

She turned her body toward his and brought her hand up, wrapping it around the back of his neck to pull him closer and kiss him deeply. Warmth consumed her as they pressed together, breaths growing heavier as hands explored the other’s body. He tasted heavenly, she wanted to drink him in. He broke the kiss and went back to her neck, removing any reservations she may have had once he lightly sucked on a spot that sent a jolt throughout the entirety of her body. Heat started to pool in her abdomen - she already felt as if she was on fire just from a kiss. 

“Gale,” she whispered, her body molten as he moved his hands from her thighs to her waist, slipping under the hem of her shirt. 

“Tav,” he whispered back against her skin as his fingertips brushed over her stomach before dancing a light path up to her small breasts. He moaned against her neck as he felt the bare skin, her nipples starting to harden under his delicate touch.

She reached for him, her fingers fumbling with the ties on his wrap top - first the outside, then the inside fastening, slowly revealing more of his beautiful skin that he was so reluctant to show on a normal day. She pressed her lips to his neck, hearing his soft exhale as she did. She followed the path of the orb, placing gentle kisses on his collarbone, the center of the orb itself. It didn’t frighten her, not anymore - it was a part of him that they would overcome, just as they overcame everything that had been thrown at them so far. 

He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders before reaching for hers, pulling the thin fabric over her head and tossing it across the tent. Her eyes trailed over his chest, feasting on him. Gods, his body was unreal - she never would have guessed that was how he looked under his layers of clothing. The projections from the night before implied it, but seeing him before her, in person - she could not have imagined how perfect he was as she followed the line of dark hair from his chest down, down, down, until she could see how much he desired her, his hardness showing under his thin linen pants. What really got her was the way he was looking at her, like a starved man being shown his first meal. Ravenous. 

He placed his hands on both sides of her face and kissed her again, harder and hungrier than before. As if he wanted to devour her - she would let him, gladly. She reached between them, feeling him twitch through his pants as her fingertips brushed against it. He groaned into her mouth before breaking the kiss, panting. 

“I want you, Tav.” 

“I’m yours to have.” 

Both of them made quick work of removing the rest of their clothing, now discarded in a wrinkled pile across the tent with Tav’s shirt. Tav felt his hands immediately move to her hips, his soft lips on her shoulder. 

“You are so beautiful. I want to spend every hour of the day tracing each freckle with my lips,” he said in between small, lingering kisses as he did just that. 

“Gale, we would be here for three days if you did that,” she laughed before moving her hand down his chest, then his stomach, finally wrapping around him and feeling the soft velvet of his skin for the first time. The fire inside her burned hotter as she started to stroke him. 

“I see no problem with that,” he moaned as the breath caught in his throat as her hands moved up and down the length of him. “Gods, that feels so good, Tav.” 

She hummed as she felt him get even harder in her hand. She needed him inside her. Now. 

Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him from his kneeling position to lounge back against the pillows where they had started their evening. She climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. Normally she would want to take her time with him, but the wine was making her bold and impatient.

“I want you. The real Gale - the one here in front of me right now. Let me show you the stars in my own way,” she said as she wrapped her hand around him, hard and ready for her, guiding him to her entrance. He started to close his eyes as the heat and slick wetness from her body made contact with his.

“No, look at me,” she whispered, looking into his warm brown eyes as she slowly lowered herself onto him agonizingly slowly. She groaned as she felt herself give around him, taking him fully inside her. How could he have a preference for astral pleasure over this? This felt so perfect. She would see to it his mind was forever changed.

Gale moaned, his fingertips digging into the skin of her waist as she started to rock her hips back and forth, slowly at first, then picking up speed as they got used to each other’s bodies for the first time. She leaned back, placing her hands on his thighs behind her. His eyes moved from her face down to where they were joined, now on full display. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched her - watched her ride him, watched her arch her back, watched her grab her own breast and bite her lip as she called out his name. He couldn’t help himself as he tensed his thighs and started matching her movements with thrusts of his own. She leaned down to kiss him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to his body as he thrust harder, faster up into her. 

“Yes…yes…” she panted. “More…please, Gale, I need more.” She had been with others before this, but gods this was on another plane. Weeks of attraction, tension, flirting - it all led to this. She had never felt this good. Her body was buzzing with electricity and he was lightning ready to strike. “Take me Gale, make me yours.” 

He groaned at those words and in one smooth movement, she found herself on her back, Gale between her spread legs. “I want to take my time and devour your sweetness, but since you asked so nicely…” he said, trailing off as he entered her with a quick thrust that made her cry out in pleasure at the sudden feeling of fullness as he pressed fully into her. He pulled out completely before thrusting back into her, the hard movements making her whole body jolt as she arched against the pillows. He hooked his arms under her knees, lifting her legs to his shoulders to let him go even deeper, each hard thrust punctuated with a snap of his hips as he buried himself within her. He moved his hand between her legs to trace soft circles around that sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Her body jerked. The sensation of him moving in and out of her roughly, the sound of their bodies hitting together, his light touches between her legs, the heat in the tent making them both slick with a thin layer of sweat…it was too much. She was ruined for anyone else now - no one would ever be able to make her feel the way he did. A tightness began to form deep in her abdomen. She reached out to grab his thighs, her nails digging into his skin. She could sense he was as close as she was, his thrusts getting faster, less controlled the more she tightened around him.

“Gale I -“

“Tav -” 

They both cried out loudly as they each reached their own climax, rushing to the peak and toppling over it, pleasure crashing over them in seemingly unending waves as she shattered around him and he filled her with his own release. 

Panting, he pulled out of her, collapsing down onto the pillows beside her. She couldn’t help but smile - he looked more disheveled than she had ever seen him. She turned onto her side, facing him. 

“I love you, Tav,” he said, his face now softened with emotion as he came down from his high.

“I love you, Gale,” she replied, smiling at him. “So, did I make you see the stars?” 

He laughed, “My love, I’m still seeing them, I am absolutely ruined. You are never leaving this tent at night again.”

She nodded. “I could stay.”

Prompt: "You could stay."

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 1: The Laws of Humans and Elves

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 2.9k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧notes: a short part to introduce the world and get started. I am super excited to start rolling out the chapters I have been working on. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ on a sun-blessed day, you happen upon a new companion.

The darkness came from the rot of the world. At the very least, that is the superstition. It followed centuries after the wrecking chaos that threatened to crack the very stone of the world and cast all those living down to hell. The earth had been fighting for millennia, with elves and humans slaughtering one another; the Great War. Their reason for fighting had been lost to time. It had not mattered anymore, for the malice held between them was enough to bear rot in the roots of their history. Such chaos and death must anger the gods, for violence was their language - to exact on the land of the living, not for the living to exact upon one another. 

A stalemate happened after each side bore the cost of life beyond that which should be possible. Peace, however fickle, was forged and laid in a treaty between the humans and elves. It was unstable, but so long as it was upheld, the world could know peace. Children could know their parents, families could stick together, cities could rebuild, and meaningless fighting could be put to rest. Meadows and tracts of land grew back and birds chirped once again. The fields, once littered with the corpses of slain kin, bloomed with flowers once again.

It took six centuries before that peace was destroyed. The taint came from an unknown source. Some claim humans started it, others say it was the elves; each wishing to push prejudice against the other. Many say it is the wrath of whichever god or gods they follow. A curse put upon the earth to punish them for their bloodshed. It could be a twisted act to kill them and purify the world, or perhaps bring hell from below and judge them before their deaths. 

The opinions of gods did not matter to you. What mattered - truly - was fighting back against the twisted black darkness that crawled across the land, wilting plants and killing all known life. It tainted water and invaded lands, crawling through the world map like unkempt ivy. You were determined that there was a resolution. This was not some wrath from the gods, but simply a fight against the same darkness humans and elves inflicted against one another. A manifestation of sin. 

That was how you found yourself, each day, kept in your lodgings in an old town by the borders between the human kingdom and the domain of elves. It was a proper place to be, for the taint spread by a half-day ride away, easily accessible for experiments. It was also favourable, for you could not live in your old home deep in the kingdom. You grew up being raised by your father there, had forged the purest of memories. Yet they died with his disappearance. 

Five years he had been gone and since then you had diligently taken over his work after moving. It was a peaceful life, albeit frustrating. With each passing day insecurity seized your body. Your research had been inadequate and experiments even more so. The darkness spread, and fields of flowers, forests of trees, and lakes of plenty suffered further. The landscape around had died where it was touched. You had been failing and no progress had been made. 

It was in the darkest hours of the night you found yourself staring at the roof of your cottage, contemplating the meaning of your existence. Surely, if you were as brilliant as your father, a cure would have been found. The effort you put into it, the pain and tirelessness, could not be for naught. 

In the small hamlet you were in, the land still bore beauty. It was in that sight where you held your inspiration. Those creeping moments of doubt would clash against your hope like saltwater on rock; wearing the stone down through time. The world was worth saving and you would be damned if you sat back and watched it collapse. 

So, like most days, you find yourself working. It was late noon as you approached the edge of the sprawling meadow outside the village. You were on the border of the kingdom between humans and elves, and it was here where you could find a good growing of nettles. It was outside the thick canopy of forest that you found growing on the edge of the meadow close to your home. You had just approached when the sound of faint crying made its way to you. 

The sobs were of a girl and you looked back and forth to see if you could spot the person. It was gentle weeping that spurred you to move. You began to trail along the edge of the forest in search of the source. Your gaze swept over the dark branches of trees, unease settling in your bones.

After a few moments of walking, you looked into the trees to see a woman with her back to you. She was on the ground in a dirtied light green dress. Her hair cascaded down her back, light and silvery, with some of it in a braid crown across her head. Her shoulders shook and from what you could see, she cradled her left forearm in distress. 

You knew it was forbidden, for a human to cross into elvish territory uninvited, but you could not walk away after seeing someone hurt. You looked around for anyone else and saw nothing. A breath caught in your throat as you stepped into the tree line, foot crunching on the branches below. You waited for a moment for the worst to happen; some archer waiting to shoot you or a bunch of guards to descend upon you, but you saw nothing. 

Deeming it safe, you moved forward to the woman. 

“Hello? Are you alright?” You kept your voice at a low volume so as not to startle her. However, your abrupt words shocked her and she turned to you. Tear tracks ran down her reddened cheeks. You were thrown slightly off guard at her appearance. You had heard of the elvish characteristic of perfect beauty, but you had not been witness to it until that very moment. 

Her crystal blue eyes reflected the greenery around her. You could see some blood on her forearm that seeped from the gaps in her hand that cradled the wound. 

“I got lost…” Her voice trailed off for a minute. “And I tripped.” She looked down at her wound and removed her hand. On the top part of her forearm was a sizable cut. The surrounding area had gotten dirty and you knew it had to be cleaned soon. Being a healer, your instincts kicked in. 

You knelt down, but kept your distance to not invade her space, “I can take care of that cut. It needs to be cleaned.” 

She seemed to look at you in a clearer light after wiping away her tears. Her good arm rose to point at your ears, silently acknowledging that they were not shaped in the familiar point of an elf. You reached up and covered them subconsciously with a feeling of inadequacy. 

“Look, I'm a healer in my village. All of my supplies are at home. Would you… would you come with me?” You knew it was a shot-in-the-dark question, but your more nurturing trait took over at seeing someone hurt. You wanted to help her by any means that you could. The shattered relationship between your respective kinds meant nothing to you, for old grudges were nothing but pointless. This was a being that needed help, which you were capable of giving. 

“I don't want to be a burden…” Her voice was light and spacey. She seemed to have an air of lightness to her. An uncommon trait of pure brightness came from her, mixed with the calming feeling of a babbling brook. Her presence mimicked the gentle nature of the environment around her. 

“You aren’t. I promise.” You slowly got up from your crouching position. Your hands were held up to show no ill will. She looked at you for a moment, judging the situation. You could tell otherworldly works were happening in her mind - a keen elf sense of analyzing your character. 

She sniffled, “I’m Helaena.” Her grip tightened on the wound, no doubt experiencing more pain as her adrenaline wore off. 

You offer a friendly smile and introduce yourself. You adjusted the skirt of your dress and nodded towards the direction of the meadow. The rustling of the dark trees had begun to make you wary and uncomfortable. Tales of these woods, and the elves that lurk within are not always kind. You briefly remembered moments around campfires, men trading stories of old. Most of them were lost on you to time, but the stories of the elf king stuck; his sadistic tendencies and inability to refrain from striking down any who so much as bothered him. You by no means wished to be on the receiving end of his wrath, lest you be caught. 

“My home is only a short walk from here.” Your words seem to spur Helaena and she rose to her feet carefully. She kept a few paces away from you when following behind. Once you walked past the edge of the trees and into the tall grass of the meadow, she stopped. Helaena's gaze swept back and forth as if looking for a trap. She took a hesitant step forward and it was like going through a threshold and becoming comfortable with her surroundings. 

Helaena matched your pace as the two of you trekked through the field. You wished to be discreet, for you did not want to know how people would react upon seeing an elf in their territory. You struggled to come up with any conversation starters as social skills were not among your talents. Especially when the woman beside you was an elf, likely leagues ahead in wisdom and experience through age. You felt inadequate next to her beauty. 

Thankfully, your cottage was nestled away from the rest of the town, over a hill that shielded it from curious gazes. It was a single-level home, with enough room for a decent-sized bedroom, kitchen, and living space. The living space was taken over by your study materials. Books stacked with loose pieces of parchment with notes aplenty. Countless vials and tubes full of different substances were neatly organized across two wooden tables. Some of the tubes were over small lit fires, bubbling with substances you were experimenting with.

You gestured for her to sit on a sofa placed in front of the hearth. Her eyes darted to everything around her, especially on the countless plants that littered every inch of available space. Your home was a fusion of messy and organized. Everything had its place, but it was a collection of different items that gave an eclectic feeling. 

You grabbed some supplies for the wound and set them down on the low table by the couch. There was uncertainty that lingered in your mind. In the few minutes you had known Helaena, you could tell she had an aversion towards people; though you could not tell if that was because of your humanness or not. Regardless of the answer, you would respect her wishes.

“Can I sit there?” You pointed to the spot beside her and waited for an answer. She nodded silently and you slowly sat down. When you found yourself on the plush cushion, you looked towards her wound. “May I?” 

Helaena nodded again. She lifted her hand to reveal the wound. It was still bleeding but had slowed down by her putting pressure on it. You took a dish of water and a clean cloth. You rung it out and placed the damp material on the wound, gently wiping the blood away. While you diligently worked, you decided to see if you could break the ice more. Helaena appeared interested in the items around her.

“I’m working on a cure for the taint. That’s why this place is a bit of a mess, sorry for that.” You began, “I also keep insects, so I apologize if any happen to land upon you.” At the word insects, Helaena’s eyes lit up and she sat straighter. 

“What kind?” She asked. You noticed that this was the most relaxed she has been since meeting her. The wound was clean and you assessed that it was not nearly big enough for any stitching. You applied your own poultice to the wound and began to wrap it in a light linen cloth. 

“Whatever I tend to find, really. Butterflies, crickets, beetles, spiders, and dragonflies are the ones that I see the most.” You answered while securing the cloth. You backed up on the couch afterwards, giving her more space. She breathed more at that and you were glad your actions could ease her. 

You got out of the seat and walked towards one of the desks. You grabbed a decent-sized wooden cage. It had two newborn dragonflies that you cultivated recently. You brought it back to where Helanea sat and handed it over to her. A small smile made its way onto her face as she peered in at the little creatures. 

It was an impulse decision, but you made it anyway. 

“You can keep them.” At your words, Helaena looked up at you. She had a hopeful look in her eyes. Her eyes darted between you and the creatures. You nodded in assurance, reinforcing your decision. 

“Think of it as a gift of friendship.” You spoke. Your newfound companion seemed to light up further and you found great pleasure in making her happy. It had been so long since you had spent quality time with anyone. 

“Friends?” Helaena questioned you. She sat the cage on her lap and gave you her full attention. You suddenly got nervous, thinking that perhaps you overstepped. 

“We don’t have to be,” You stuttered out, “It can just be a sign of goodwill.” You wanted to clarify your meaning. You felt awkward having shoved that status upon Helaena and you were anticipating her swift leave of your company. It would not be a surprise, as most often people tended to sway away from you after speaking. You could hardly last a conversation with someone. 

“I would like to be friends,” Helaena told you. Your heart swelled with happiness. She would be the first friend you had in a long while. You knew this would be the only time you would see her, for interactions between humans and elves were limited to the occasional diplomat from each kingdom going to high courts. The rest - common folk - were forbidden from entering one another’s territory. It was a rule drawn to prevent fighting between groups and entering another war that would no doubt kill more than the last, especially with the growing acres of taint spreading indiscriminately and destroying everything in its wake. 

Helaena held the dragonfly cage in her hands and stood up from her seat. She swayed slightly, eyes darting back and forth. 

“I have to go home. My family… they will be looking for me.” You nodded at her words and got out of your seat as well. It was disheartening, for her to leave so soon, but you did not wish to bother her anymore. You moved to the door and opened it. 

“I’ll walk you back.” The two of you walked outside into the warm sunny weather. The sounds of crickets and the breeze through tall grass calmed you. The walk towards the forest was short, and you wanted it to be longer. 

Helaena seemed to look back down at the cage every once in a while and smiled to herself. She cradled it like it was the most precious thing. Parts of her green dress had gotten dirty on the bottom, but the craft of the elves stunned you with their intricate work. 

When you two got to the forest edge, she turned around to face you. 

“Why did you help me?” Helaena’s question caught you off guard. There was no real answer. You had simply saw someone in distress and wished to help them. There was no reason other than the simple will to aid when you could. 

“I just wanted to help. It's what I am good at.” You reassured. It was the whole truth. All your life, you had fumbled at many things; been unsure and made mistakes. However, healing was something you excelled at. It was disheartening that you were yet to find a cure for the taint that spread, but you knew deep down that there was a solution and you had to try. 

“I hope your research goes well.” Helaena addressed. Your heart warmed at her kindness. 

“Thank you. I hope you get better soon.” 

Your meeting and subsequent bond forged was not a common one. Humans and elves having interactions were few, even fewer when they found commonality with one another. You had no doubt, that with more exposure to one another, the kinds could get along. There were great differences in culture, but the truth still came. Your races were living and breathing, inhabited the same world, and forged deep bonds and care for others. That alone was enough, at least to you. 

It was there, standing on each side of the invisible territorial line of the kingdoms, that a human and an elf built a connection of friendship; careless to whether or not it lasted, for the future was uncertain.

Chapter 2: A Modest Proposition Preview

He rose from the throne and manoeuvred down the steps to stand a metre in front of you, each step echoed through the hall. His lone gaze fell ladden on your cheek, heavy and hot with inner ire. Your voice got stuck in your throat and you glanced towards Helaena to ask for any form of help. Aemond held his head high while his stare looked you up and down and released a low hum. In his inspection, you felt as if he could see every action you had ever made, every sin, and went about judging as he saw fit. 

As a judge, jury, and executioner.

Would you all be interested in previews at the end of each chapter?

Thank you for all of the support!

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[my-debauchery]

Wonder.

idol!haechan × gn!reader

g`fluff

cw`tears(happy), kisses, hugs

A/N: constructive criticism is more than welcomed. if you see mistakes in cw, please, let me know.

'do you ever wonder?' haechan asks as he lays his head on your shoulder and pulls you in closer to him. 'wonder about what?'you ask.

you look up at the clock on the bed side table, 03:36. you are laying in bed with haechan, slightly overheating, cause he decided to turn into coala and trap you completely, as well as cocoon both of you in a blanket. he claims you need to warm up after the earlier walk you took and he needs to recharge from you, after a shity day he had. sure you do,both of you. but now you're wondering how are you not melting.

you start to slip in to your slumber when haechan tightens his hug even more. 'things?' he mumbles in to your shoulder. you're slipping again trying to remember what you were talking about. 'so do you?' he whines a bit and you chuckle at his impatience 'i don't know what you talking about' you're quite sleepy, so his question left your mind as quickly as it entered it.

'want to know what I wonder about all the time? to the point that when I talked to doyoung hyung about it and how much it occupies my mind, he genuinely looked concerned, said i might be losing it' haechan says with a smile. you're intrigued, so you whisper 'please, share with a crowd'

'i wonder about you. and me. how we met, how we love each and what our life's will look like in 10,20,30 or 60 years from now. would we have been able to meet if one thing were to be different in our life's? will we be happy? how will our children look like? how am I going to say no when you'll decide to get an ugly little white dog? i don't think we will able to find another daegal, right? what if you get sick and leave me all alone? what if i? how can i? what to do when i let our child eat too many sweets and now they have a stomachache? and you told me not to do that. should we get a place at the cemetery now or later? won't the prices rise? will i cry at our wedding or not? will you? will you let me be buried at your feet like that italian painter? do you ever find me annoying or too much?do y-' you immediately interject 'no, never' he kisses your cheek and moves his lips to your ear and continues in whisper 'do you actually like my friends? as much as i do? my family? does yours like me? are you lying that they do? are you sick and tired of me asking you to cook for me my favorite things again and again? do you yearn for me when I'm gone? as much as i do for you? do you like the smell of my new shampoo? will you marry me? when would be the right time to ask? is there a right time?'

you lay there, frozen as tears are gathering in your eyes, unable to say anything really. nothing that, in your opinion, will be as moving and silly as haechan's waterfall of thoughts. but when you come to realize what his last 3 questions were 'did you just ask me to marry you?' you sit up and look at him. he sits up and looks down to grab your hands, he is blushing. 'i mean...' he can't look you in the eyes, so you ask again 'did you? i mean it's not very romantic, but kind is, you know? i'm not mad.' he looks up at you, eyes twinkling 'really? it's not how i wanted to ask, but i just couldn't stop. you are truly what occupies 99,99% of my mind, the rest is unimportant stuff. so, will you? will you marry me? i know that we can't legally now, but in the future i'll give the grandest wedding you want. for now we can wear matching rings and think of each other as husband and wife. and we can have a celebration with family and friends. how does that sound?'

you look up to stop yourself from crying and when look at him. truly look at him and all that you can see is love. love so overwhelming sometimes you feel you will explode from the happiness that it brings. and yet so calming and stabilizing, it makes you power through the darkest of hours.

'i will. i love so much, i don't need any wedding. as long as we are each other's, we can be happy on our own, there is no need for the world to know.' haechan smiles and pulls you in for a kiss, short and sweet. and then another on the cheek, and the forehead, and left temple , and right temple, till he kissed your face all over and you're both giggling messes. you pull him in for a hug and squeeze as hard as you can, wondering. how are you so lucky to be able to touch the sun and not burn up?

[criticallyinneedofadar]

Beyond Hope

Author's Note: I'm in denial.

WARNING: SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Pairing: Adar x reader

______________________________________________________________

The moment you see him, you forget everything else. The stillness of Valinor, the golden light that wraps around the edges of the horizon, the gentle whisper of the sea—they all fade into nothing as you run toward him.

“Aruvian,” you whisper, breath catching in your throat.

He stands, the familiar, angular face that has haunted your dreams now softened by the weight of death, but the sight of him—alive, whole, no longer burdened—makes your heart race. You see it in his eyes, too, the disbelief, the raw ache of too many lifetimes apart, and the quiet realization that you are here, in front of him, after all this time.

He startles at the sound of his old name, the one he left behind millennia ago- left you behind.

His children—the ache of their betrayal and despair at their fall to Sauron—seem distant now, muted. The scars of battle, of the millennia he spent fighting in vain, have faded. Only peace remains here.

You hesitate, for just a moment, wondering if he will blame you for leaving him in his darkest hours, not that you had much of a choice. You stop a few steps away, running your eyes over his form again and again. Tracing his features and scars-some new and some you know the very texture of.

Adar- your Aruvian, takes a step back, fear flickering across his face and for a moment, terror grips your heart that he does not remember you. You bow your head in acceptance of his hesitation, but then strong arms are around you, pulling you into him with a force that feels like the world itself is righting all the wrongs it has ever known.

“It is truly you,” he breathes into your hair, his voice cracking. “I never thought...”

“You’re free,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest, letting the warmth of him melt away the fear that he might reject this, reject you. “The Valar have granted you peace. For what you tried to do—for them.”

He pulls back, looking at you, a question in his eyes. “For my children?”

You nod, tears in your eyes. “Your efforts, your desire to give them something better, to find them peace... it granted you clemency. You were not forgotten.”

A flicker of sorrow crosses his face—old pain, wounds that cannot be erased, even in this place. But then, slowly, his lips curve into a smile, and it is as if the very light of Valinor burns brighter, casting golden rays over everything.

“I was never certain I could be forgiven,” he says, voice rough. “I was ready for oblivion, for anything but this.”

“You’ve earned it,” you reply softly, touching his cheek. “And you’ve earned us.”

He leans into your touch, his forehead resting against yours, and for a moment, the weight of eternity does not feel heavy. It feels like home.

“I waited,” you say, voice trembling. “So long, I waited.”

“I know,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. “And I searched for you in every shadow, in every moment of despair. But you were here. All along.”

There are no more words. Only the sensation of him, whole and real in your arms once again.

The air between you hums with unspoken words, the ache of centuries, the longing that held you both through lifetimes apart. Again, his forehead rests against yours, and for the first time in so long, the ache begins to ease.

His lips hover near yours, breath mingling, and he catches your eye- almost asking permission. You smile up at him and gently grab his wrists were they frame your face. When his lips finally meet yours, it is soft at first—tentative, as if he still cannot believe this moment is real. But then it deepens, and the gentle hesitation gives way to a flood of emotions, overwhelming and fierce.

Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is a reunion of souls, a desperate claim on the love that has been denied for too long. He kisses you like a man who has wandered through endless darkness and finally found his way back to the light.

There is no more space between you, no more doubt. The warmth of him wraps around you, grounding you, reminding you that you are here—together, after everything. His hands hold you like you are precious, like the very idea of losing you again is unbearable.

When the kiss breaks, you’re both breathless, foreheads still resting together, hearts pounding in sync. He pulls back just enough to look at you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his thumb brushing gently along your jaw.

“Gi melon,” he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion, and you know it’s true. You’ve found your way back to each other, and nothing will ever separate you again.

He leads you down a quiet path where the soft hum of life continues, the breeze gentle, fragrant with flowers that never fade.

Finally, you are home.

[iiseult]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝐹𝒾𝓋𝑒: 𝒢𝑜𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝒞𝓇𝑜𝓈𝓈

CWs →  FLUFF, angst, depression, themes of war and death, historical inaccuracies, slow burn, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, eventual smut (once reader and baldwin are both over 18), leprosy, time-period accurate sexism

Wordcount: 3.5k

Note: For those of you who have been waiting for actual fluff for like five chapters, I hope this is satisfactory. The next chapter is probably going to involve smut, so maybe that will give you something else to look forward to! Enjoy!

The following days were the darkest you had ever known. The palace was eerily silent, half of the staff left with nothing to do in the absence of their King. There were no more tears, and no more talking– there was only waiting, agonizing waiting. You could not bring yourself to leave the fortified stone walls of your home, not necessarily for fear of a raid by Saladin’s troops, but more for fear of leaving your post at your window and missing a sign that Baldwin might be returning. Whatever that sign might be– a flag, a cross, a messenger, you didn’t know–  but you would surely know once you saw it. 

For that reason you took all of your meals in your bedchamber, dressed perpetually in a white linen nightgown. Though she had tried and tried, claiming that looking better would also help you to feel better, Matilda could not convince you to get dressed. To you, there was no longer any reason to get dressed and presentable, let alone get out of bed. The only thing that could help you now was seeing your husband living and breathing, in the flesh. So in this way, the days faded dimly into dark nights, and those dark nights into fair-weathered days, whose blissful sunlight and blue skies mocked you and every other citizen of Jerusalem. Still he did not return. You stayed at your window for hours every night, fighting the heaviness of your eyelids and the sag in your shoulders, but inevitably passing into the realm of sleep from pure exhaustion, hunched over the sill with your head resting on your arms. You would wake in that exact same position every morning, accompanied by aches and pains in your muscles. 

One night, there was thunder. You thought bitterly that it would be the perfect weather to reflect your brooding and negative mental state, that it only made sense for there to be a rainstorm, bring it on, but then there was the issue of there not being a single rain cloud in the sky. It was the clear amber sky of an autumn evening just around sunset, annoyingly picturesque, and dappled with only pink and orange stratus clouds. But there was the thunder, a deep, constant rumbling, perhaps growing even louder by the minute. Yes, you were certain now your ears were not playing tricks on you and that it was growing closer and closer, resounding low, and sustaining. In fact, you could feel its very vibrations rattling your teeth in their sockets. A flame of hope ignited in your heart. 

You leapt to your feet and ran to the window, and you saw over the horizon a dark mass approaching. It was as if the raincloud you had ben searching for was on the ground instead, rolling in for the storm. But it was not a raincloud. It was an army. 

The first rider appeared, distinct from the others because he was moving ahead of them. The thunder was the sound of a thousand horses’ hooves hitting the ground. Your heart dropped and your eyes frantically searched for a flag or an emblem, anything that could tell you which army this was. Given the circumstances of the battle, a large, very logical part of you knew it was Saladin and his men. The low chances of Baldwin’s 4,000 poorly trained soldiers beating out Saladin’s 20,000 had been present in your mind all along. However, the tiny part of you that was illogical needed proof, needed confirmation that it was not simply the soldiers of Jerusalem, returning home in glory. 

Now you could see more horses, more soldiers, a score more than you had ever seen at one time before, all charging in your direction, creating a terrific rumbling sound that drowned out all else. Then appearing from over the horizon was the sign you had been searching for; the flaming golden cross of Jerusalem! They had come home! Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched that beautiful God-blessed cross-bearer speed past the stone palace walls and onto the grounds, followed by a steady stream of warriors. You swallowed back tears to avoid your vision clouding over and watched in amazement as that indistinguishable mass of soldiers transformed into a group of individuals, each a man with his own thoughts and feelings and loved ones. Your heart jumped back up into your throat from where it had fallen earlier. Jerusalem was victorious, they had won! But had he survived? 

You tore your eyes away from the window and began to run, throwing open your bedroom door carelessly. As you did, you saw that you were apparently not the only one who had noticed the troops upon their return, and the hallways were abuzz with life. Servants ran about here and there, clamoring to see out the windows and catch a glimpse of the cross that they so loved, so they could see and believe the good news for themselves. Some laughed, and some cried. Matilda was there. You ran by her as you barrelled down the long corridor, heading for the grand staircase. She called after you, but her voice only succeeded in falling in with the muddled cries of all the others, exclaiming as they were. Shouts of jubilation echoed off the impressively high ceilings and carried throughout the space, filling it entirely. It was a beautiful sound. 

You descended the staircase quickly, quickly, dizzy from the spiral shape of it, your legs pumping as best they could. Another pair of footsteps followed in your wake, and Matilda’s calls persisted, but the rushing of blood in your ears overpowered all else. Finally, you rounded the last bend and came out into the downstairs corridor, illuminated by flickering torches mounted in wall sconces. They threw your shadow large and imposing against the flagstones, making it almost seven feet tall, and dancing wildly in the wind you created in your haste. Matilda could not keep up. 

The giant oak doors of the entrance loomed above you, very stately, and so impressive that they usually required multiple boy servants to open them. It was held closed by a series of iron bars, chains, and bolts, which shone in the orange light, challenging you to best them. You got to unhooking the lower latches that you could reach and called for someone to handle the higher ones. A wide-eyed servant boy, though very much afraid of you, rushed to your aid, quickly sliding the bolts and turning the locks above your head. Soon, they were all undone, and rather than wait for the boy to find another to assist him, you slammed your shoulder against the giant, solid slab of wood and grunted, “help me!”

“Your Majesty!” The boy called, panic evident in his voice, “Please allow me to find a-” But you cut him off before he could finish that sentence, growling in frustration and shooting him a menacing glare. He gulped and without further ceremony, helped you push open the doors. As soon as the crack between them was large enough, letting a sliver of fading daylight paint the flagstones pink and yellow, you pushed through them, out into the real world. The boy rushed after you, and behind him was Matilda, something clutched in her hands. 

Summoning all your strength, you ran, gulping down great lungfuls of the smoky evening air. Your eyes searched, wide and unblinking, as your legs carried you closer to the legion of armor-clad men on horseback. Besides about a thousand identically-shaped silhouettes, you couldn't make out much of anything in detail. No way to tell yet, you had to get closer. Your feet slapped the earth, bare as they were, the sound ringing out shrilly in your ears. The soft flesh stung and turned pink, but you were becoming numb to external stimuli and it made no difference. Your arms swung wildly at your sides, and your hair, whipped into coils by the wind, lashed at your face. There was a growing ache in your chest, but still, you were getting closer. So close that now, you could make out a figure. And suddenly, he was there. 

You knew him immediately by his silver mask, glowing in the sun, and his billowing white robes, though they were stained with sprays of brown and red. You ran and ran to him, calling his name and waving your arms, hoping to capture his attention, but it was all so very unnecessary. He had seen you the second you barrelled through those doors, known you by the shape of your body and your movements, even at such a great distance. Quickly, but as if moving in a dream, he brought his stallion to its knees and dismounted sloppily, nearly tripping in his haste, but it was no matter. His mask slipped, lubricated by his sweat, but he paid it no mind. In dreams, he was never able to move fast enough, as if his muscles were stuck in molasses, always preventing him from getting where he needed to be. This time was much the same. He simply could not reach you fast enough, could not feel the safety of being in your arms soon enough. But he ran, his feet digging into the ground, desperate to find purchase, beating into the soft earth viciously. His heart pounded just as hard against his ribcage, which had already sustained a brutal battering earlier during the battle. But now he could make out your face just a little, the curve of your nose and the dark line of your lips. 

The white linen rippled frantically around his flaming, aching body, which he pushed to its absolute limit, trembling from exhaustion though it was. Faster, he commanded it, faster! And somehow, it listened. 

The two of you drew closer and closer until you could see the way his mask was askew, dangling around his throat like a gaudy, oversized necklace. He seized it in his gloved hand and ripped it away carelessly, breaking the string that held it to him and letting it fall. It hit the ground with a dull thud and rolled away. As your teary-eyed smile came into focus, he desperately clawed at his hood and chainmail veil, discarding those, too, in one fell swoop. Those golden tresses, caked in sweat and blood, sand and earth, rain and battle, flowed freely behind him, cleansed by the wind. 

Then you were upon him, there in your nightgown and unwashed, untethered hair and without any shoes, and yet with the biggest smile he’d ever seen, and could all of that really be for him?

You collided with him roughly, unable to stop due to the momentum, and you heard a puff of air pass his lips. A sob passed yours. For the first time, you knew what it felt like to throw your arms around his bare neck and hold him close, and to cry into his shoulder. He held you, too, a bit hesitant and stiff at first, but soon he softened. His arms wrapped around you and his hands rested on your shoulder blades, and he cried. It was silent save for the few sniffs he gave. He let go of himself and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your warm, rosy scent straight from the source, tears sliding down his golden-blond lashes and landing softly in your hair. He said nothing. Everything he wanted to say, you had already read from his letters. It was your turn to talk. 

“I read them,” you cried miserably, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. So much regret, so much wasted time. He knew it all, he saw it there. 

“I read them all, and I love you,” you said, then redoubled your efforts, burying your face in him and drawing him somehow closer. He almost believed that his arms would slip right through you and you’d vanish any second, so he cherished every second of your warmth. But you didn’t. You stayed. He broke away for a second, only to sigh in impatience and violently rip off his gloves, whipping them to the ground behind him. The satin sank into the mud. 

With his naked hands he carefully, almost timidly, stroked the small of your back. It was something he’d always wanted to do. He did this until he was fully convinced you were real, and here, and not just a pleasant vision conjured up by his post-battle delusion. But you felt firm and warm and alive beneath his hands, the fabric of your nightgown the very thinnest of barriers.

He slid his palms up to your cheeks and looked into your eyes. So full of love, they were, full of fear and relief and joy and love. You gasped, feeling his calloused hands burning their print into your cheeks. He grinned at the privilege of touching his flesh to your very own. You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but you could make no sound. You could only stare wide-eyed at each other, loving in silence. 

Behind Baldwin, his army stood still and looked on. Their horses stamped but did not move. The men did not know what to think, or how to behave. On the one hand, they were witnessing something very special; the pure, young love of their master and his betrothed. On the other hand, they were staring at a lady dressed in only undergarments, sharing an intimate moment with her man. Some of them blushed, and some smiled. But nobody, absolutely nobody, could bring themselves to look away. 

Over your shoulder, Baldwin could see the palace staff lined up in front of the great doors, some hunched over in tears of relief and joy, others standing tall and triumphant, filled with pride for their nation. Among the latter were his lady sister Sybilla and her son, and Matilda and Amelia, though they were too far away for him to see. Still clutched in Matilda’s hands were a pair of your shoes, which she had been intending to give to you to put on before you ran outside. As soon as she heard the army approaching, she’d known you would abandon everything and go to him. 

Baldwin pulled you into his side with his left arm, and with his right, he cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted to the sky, his voice ringing clear across the field, “Today, we have won a great victory!” 

In an instant, the field erupted into cheers and shouts of rejoicing, almost deafening in volume. You laughed and smiled up at your husband, whose eyes reflected the pink and purple sunset on the horizon. Then he led you towards the castle, just the same way you had come before, only slowly and fulfilled this time. As you looked at him, your eye caught a glint of something gold and glittering against the bare skin of his neck. 

“Heavenly Father, thank you.” 

Together, you walked home. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

A feast was thrown to celebrate Jerusalem’s victory, and for the first time in over a year, Baldwin sat at the head of the table with his Queen at his side. He wore no mask, and no bandages on his face, and he was adorned only by the golden crown that sat atop his cornsilk curls. So many nobles had greeted the two of you that you lost count, but there was one man in particular that stood out, and his name was Reynald de Chatillon. 

His beard was red and scraggly, spreading across his chin like a wildfire and complimenting the equally red hue of his face. In fact, his skin was florid all over; it wasn’t limited to just his face, though his pudgy cheeks were mottled with patches of red, and full of craters left behind by the pox he’d had as a boy. The pox had almost killed him, but it seemed nothing could snuff out his lifeforce, least of all a silly illness, so he just went on living. The same was true of him when you met him at the feast. Despite his constant brushes with death on the battlefield, he was likely the most alive person in that room. An insane, cruel look glinted in his perpetually open, bloodshot eyes– you weren’t sure you ever saw him blink– and his lips shined wetly beneath his mustache, for he was constantly licking them, his fat pink tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth like some kind of tic. But it wasn’t a nervous tick, and that you could be sure of, because Reynald de Chatillon was never nervous. He was a warlord, equally bloodthirsty and wine-thirsty. Mean, short, fat, and clever, though he didn’t look it. Perhaps therein lied his power. You shuddered to think of how he must appear to his enemies. Thankfully, he was on your side, at least for now. 

Reynald entered with his wife, two sons, and three daughters in tow, and to your surprise the girls were rather delicate and pretty, despite harboring the genes of their brutish father. Each of them had fine and flowing red-blonde hair and fair skin, indicating a life of luxury. Both sons were brawny and imposing, though one was much taller than the other, and perhaps more slender. But absolutely none of the children inspired fear the way their father did. You decided that you did not like him, but at that moment, you couldn’t help but at least respect him, just a little. After all, he was apparently an integral part of Baldwin’s army, given the fact that he was invited to the feast, and you had heard that he was one of the main forces that had led Jerusalem to its bloody victory. 

Just as everyone had said, Baldwin was an excellent King, as you came to see for yourself that evening. He held himself with grace and humility, and his kindness inadvertently demanded the respect of others. In a way, he was just as powerful and intimidating as Reynald, but he greeted his soldiers and knights with gentle, welcoming words and tasteful compliments. You couldn’t bite back your smile as you watched him interact with his guests. It truly was just as you had been told. He was a great King, and a great man. You hoped you could be an equally good Queen. 

Though you were each too busy greeting and entertaining guests to really converse, you and Baldwin stole secret glances at each other whenever there was a second to be spared. Sometimes those seconds between you lined up, causing you to accidentally make fleeting eye contact, only to both look away hastily, knowing you’d been caught by the other. He’d blush, and you’d fiddle with your sleeves, and as subtle as you might have thought you were being, most everyone noticed anyway. To see a young King Queen, so green behind the ears and so obviously infatuated with each other, was something to be read about in fairy tales and great love stories from ancient times, but not to be seen in person. Reynald’s daughters whispered to each other and giggled behind their hands. It was a bit of a scandal. 

When the feast had finally concluded and the last drunken guests trickled out of the great hall and to their respective rooms where they were put up for the night, you and Baldwin finally turned to look at each other without embarrassment. A grin spread across his face, and then one broke across yours, too. Finally, a moment alone. 

Since his return, the two of you had decided to drop the formalities and titles, opting to simply call each other by name, at least when you were in private. He took both of your hands in his and held them gently. 

“Y/N, you make such a wonderful Queen.” 

You couldn’t help but beam. 

“You are the most perfect King. And everybody says so, Baldwin.”

He looked down at the table, shaking his head and blushing a little, but his smile never faltered. Then he furrowed his brow, opening his mouth quickly as if he were about to say something, and then thought better of it and closed his lips again. You raised an eyebrow and squeezed his hand gently. 

“What is it? You were going to say something.” 

He smiled a little and only shook his head, still gazing down at the table, but you persisted. “You can tell me anything, you know. I’m your wife. Now, please,” you urged. He looked up at you, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes as he raised his head again. He held your hands a bit tighter for support and took a shaky breath before asking, “Would you…maybe…want to sleep in my room tonight?”

//taglist: @eatmeandbirthmeagain @lzsia @likeanecho344 @lunargraveyard @yoursoulisinyourkeepingalone @stickparrot @ainselthegreat @luigisang @sad-bag @vamp-hira @madeleinerosexxx

[lendeah]

The currents of destiny

Chapter 1: The present.

Requested by @tinystarfishgalaxy! Thank you very much🤍🫶🏻

Summary: "I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming." Astarion's life takes a dark turn following his encounter with Cazador, as his lover Tav refuses to help him ascend. Left to face the aftermath of his choices, Astarion seeks understanding in his new reality. In his search for answers, he meets a seer named G'axir, who offers him glimpses into three different paths his life could take: his future as an Ascended Vampire, his future alone, and a future next to Tav. Now, Astarion must decide which path to follow before it's too late. Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader. Word Count: 2.9k Tags: Heavy Angst, Psychological Trauma, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Psychological Torture (kind of), Emotional Manipulation, Verbal Abuse, but just chapter 2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

Next chapter ->

[AO3 Link]

The air reeks of death and blood, the stench heavy and suffocating. Cazador's lifeless body lies in a pool of his own blood, a gruesome sight that only fuels Astarion's anger. His entire body trembles with rage, years of pent-up frustration boiling over.

He had lost everything - the chance to turn the ritual and become the most powerful Vampire, the chance to get back all he lost, the chance to be completely free.

And it was all because of her.

"Astarion?" Her voice quivers with fear as she approaches him cautiously. Turning to face her, his once handsome features contort into a twisted mask of fury.

"You," he growls, his voice dripping with venom. "You betrayed me."

Her body recoils at his accusation, but he pays no mind. The only thing he can see is red, consumed by a blazing fire of betrayal and pain.

"I only wanted what was best for you," she pleads, tears welling in her eyes.

"You had no right!" he bellows, making her flinch again. "This was my last chance!"

"Do you think I wanted to do this?" she cries, her voice breaking. "I did it for you, Astarion. It would have turned you into the very thing you despise."

His lips curl into a sneer and his fangs glint in the dim light. "Oh, spare me your platitudes," he scoffs. "You always did have a way with words, didn't you? You professed your love for me, claiming that my happiness was all you desired and that you would do anything to ensure it. Well, congratulations, now you've sealed my fate with disgrace."

The pain in her eyes fuels Astarion's anger even more.

"Please Astarion. I didn't mean..." she pleads desperately.

"But you did it," he seethes, baring his sharp fangs in anger. "You've taken everything from me."

"Please, let's go home," she begs, tears streaming down her face. "We can figure out a way together."

"Home?" Astarion laughs bitterly. "I have no home anymore."

She flinches at his words and takes a step back, fear evident in her eyes. The pain cut deep in his heart, leaving behind an irreparable wound. How could he have been so naive? To blindly put his trust in someone who would turn their back on him in his darkest hour? The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, shattering the remains of his shattered heart into dust.

"I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming," he spits before walking away, leaving her behind in a pool of regrets and broken promises. He could hear her heart-wrenching cries as he left, but the anger and pain inside of him only led him further away from her.

-

The moon cast a faint glow over the dark streets of the city as Astarion walked, his mind consumed with seething anger. The sound of his own footsteps echoed through the empty alleyways, mingling with the distant chatter of late-night revelers. People turned to look at him, their gazes lingering on the blood stains that still marred his body. He couldn't bring himself to care, his thoughts completely fixated on the scene that had played out in front of him. He didn't even know how long he had been wandering for, only that the night was growing darker and colder. He had no destination in mind, his feet taking him wherever they pleased as he tried to make sense of what had happened.

Over and over again it replayed in his mind; the knife plunging into Cazador's chest, the man's pained cries echoing in the stone walls of the basement, and the remaining silence after his lifeless body hit the floor. With each repetition, Astarion's anger only grew. How dare he make him feel 200 years of torture, only to feel a mere minute of pain before dying? It wasn't fair. He deserved to feel the pain tenfold, to suffer for eternity just as Astarion had.

As he made his way down the street, his mind couldn't help but drift to Tav. The mere thought of her brought a mix of emotions - anger, hurt, and longing. She had betrayed him, yet her words still echoed in his head, pleading for him to understand. He couldn't deny the love he had once felt for her, but he also couldn't shake the pain she had caused him. Was it all truly for his sake?

Finally reaching a secluded spot on the beach, he sank down onto the sand. It hit him suddenly - he was truly alone once more. There was no one to lean on, no one who could truly understand and accept him for who he was. But he didn't want anyone either. People were fickle creatures; they could betray you in an instant without a second thought.

The waves crashed against the shore, a soothing rhythm that did little to calm Astarion's racing thoughts. He let out a scream of frustration as he punched the sand beneath him. His knuckles burned with pain, but it was nothing compared to the searing rage consuming him. With a groan of agony, Astarion let himself fall back onto the sand. The cold grains offered no comfort as he lay there staring up at the dark sky above. The stars seemed to taunt him with their twinkling, a reminder that he was completely and utterly alone in this vast, uncaring universe.

And then, as if on queue, a figure appeared in his peripheral vision. Astarion's head snapped to the side, his eyes locking onto the man who had suddenly appeared beside him. The moonlight revealed the wrinkles on his face, adding depth and shadow to his features. His long white hair flowed from underneath a robe that reached down to his feet, and in his hand, he held a staff. He exuded an aura of wisdom and age.

Astarion sat up, his hand instinctively reaching for a dagger that wasn't there. Of course he had left his weapons behind. He eyed the stranger warily, his anger still simmering beneath the surface.

"Who are you?" Astarion asked.

"I am recognized by myriad titles... yet for you... 'G'axir' will suffice," the old man replied with a gentle smile. "I have observed your journey... for quite a while"

He narrowed his eyes, wondering if this was some kind of trap. He had learned the hard way to trust no one, especially not strangers who appeared out of nowhere in the dead of night.

"Watching me?"

G'axir nodded. "Your destiny is ensnared in shadows... since you first rose from your grave."

Astarion felt a chill run down his spine. How could this stranger possibly know anything about his past?

"I'm afraid I have little patience for riddles tonight," Astarion said as he stood up and brushed off the sand from his clothes. "I'll be on my way now."

But as he turned to leave, G'axir quickly reached out to grab Astarion's arm. What in the sweet hells?

"You... are a light entering darkness. You... are a seeker of truths. You... are more than you realize," G'axir replied cryptically. "The Seer has spoken it because the Seer knows the fear you harbor."

Astarion's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the old man's words. How could he have secrets buried within himself? He thought he knew himself well enough, especially after living for 200 years.

Astarion couldn't help but roll his eyes in disbelief. "Oh, stop with the theatrics, I don't have any spare money, if that's what you are seeking."

G'axir shook his head. "Your life... is in the balance. Act wisely, act judiciously..."

Astarion yanked his arm away from the old man's grasp. "Must we continue with this tiresome charade? State your purpose and leave me be," he demanded, his voice shaking with fury.

G'axir's expression remained calm and serene, unfazed by Astarion's outburst. "I stand as your guide... offering wisdom to illuminate your path and aid you on your journey..."

Astarion scoffed, his usual sarcastic wit dripping from every word. "Please, I'm perfectly capable of navigating this world on my own. No need for any pesky guidance or assistance," he declared with a sour grin. "I've already had my fill of unwanted help today, thank you very much."

"The path ahead of you... is treacherous and filled with darkness," G'axir said solemnly.

Astarion scoffed. "Well, I've been living in the darkness for 200 years. I can handle it."

"But... can you handle the light... that could await you?" G'axir asked.

Astarion raised an eyebrow at the old man's question. Handle the light? What did that even mean?

"What light?" Astarion asked skeptically.

"The light... of truth and understanding," G'axir replied enigmatically. Astarion felt a twinge of curiosity stir within him despite his reluctance to believe anything this old man said.

"Why should I trust you? You could be deceiving me in an attempt to abduct me, or something," Astarion said suspiciously.

G'axir nodded in understanding. "In the dance of shadows where deceit finds solace, one who has waltzed through its embrace grows cautious of fellow wanderers. Yet, heed my words — I harbor no malevolent intentions directed toward you."

Astarion warily watched G'axir, but as the old man's gentle gaze met his own, he felt himself start to relax. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about G'axir that made him feel safe and at ease. It was almost like an aura surrounding him that emitted a sense of calmness.

A moment of silence passed between them before Astarion finally spoke up again.

"So what now? Are we having a psychic reading? Should I start handing over my palm and tea leaves for you to predict my future?"

"I do not need a crystal ball to see your future... for it is already written in the stars."

Astarion raised an eyebrow. "The stars?"

G'axir's smile widened. "All things, including yourself... are interwoven within the fabric of the celestial bodies... that have perennially molded the contours of our destinies."

Astarion rolled his eyes, not wanting to entertain the idea that his fate was predetermined by some cosmic forces. "You're telling me that my entire life has been planned out for me?" he scoffed.

G'axir shook his head gently. "Your will remains untethered, and the ability to sculpt your own fate lies within your grasp... The stars merely cast their luminous gaze, imparting guidance... and revealing glimpses of the myriad possibilities that unfold before you."

Astarion mulled over G'axir's words, unsure of whether he believed in them or not. However, he couldn't deny the feeling of intrigue and curiosity that continued to grow within him.

"Let's say I entertain this absurd idea for a moment," Astarion said skeptically. "What do the stars have to say about my bright, shining future?"

"Lay down... Let the whispers of the universe... respond to the questions lingering... in the silence of the night."

Astarion hesitated for a moment before laying down on the ground, looking up at the sky above, where the stars seemed to be laughing at him.

"Shut your eyes and... attune your senses... to the rhythmic cadence of your breath," G'axir instructed, his voice calm and soothing.

Astarion did as he was told, taking deep breaths and attempting to clear his mind. He could hear G'axir's soft chanting in the background, lulling him into a state of relaxation.

As he focused on his breathing, he could feel his body levitating, as if he were leaving this reality. When Astarion opened his eyes again, he found himself floating in the vast expanse of darkness and stars. Panic gripped his chest as he struggled to understand what was happening.

"What is this? Where am I?" Astarion yelled, his voice echoing into the void.

"You are in the realm between consciousness and the stars," G'axir's voice answered calmly.

Astarion turned around and saw G'axir floating next to him. He was still chanting softly, his eyes closed in concentration.

"This is impossible!" Astarion exclaimed, feeling a mix of fear and awe.

Astarion looked around, taking in the breathtaking sight of millions of stars twinkling in the void. He couldn't believe that he was actually flying among them.

"Is this real or just an illusion?" he asked, still not fully trusting G'axir's words.

"It is as real as you want it to be," G'axir replied cryptically.

G'axir's chanting grew louder as he reached out and took Astarion's hand. "There are cities below cities, dreams beneath dreams, the present laying buried beneath the crushing weight of the future... let me show you..."

As their surroundings blurred and twisted, the sky seemed to distort itself and reveal...the Elfsong tavern?

The image of the place had a hazy quality, as if they were viewing it through a smudged window.

"What are we doing here?" Astarion asked, but when he turned to see G'axir, the man was gone.

He was in the middle of the place, so familiar after the many days and nights spent here with his companions. The sound of merry chatter and clinking glasses filled the air, along with the tantalizing aroma of hearty meals being cooked. Astarion stood in the middle of the bar, his heart pounding with confusion and fear.

G'axir's words echoed in his mind... "the present lying buried beneath the crushing weight of the future." Was this a glimpse of the future? Of the present? Or maybe just an illusion?

If this was a glimpse into the present, then his companions had to be... Astarion's heart raced as he quickly climbed the stairs to the grand bedroom where they had been living for the past few weeks. When he reached the top, he burst into the room.Astarion could see his companions huddled together in a corner, but they showed no signs of seeing or hearing him. As he observed them, an overwhelming sense of dread filled his stomach. Familiar faces surrounded him: Halsin, Gale, Wyll, Yaheira, and Lae'zel. They stood in a circle, their expressions serious as they whispered amongst themselves. But one person was missing - Tav. He tried to call out to them, but his voice was nonexistent. It slowly dawned on him that he wasn't actually present in this moment, at least not physically. His spirit had been transported to this place, a mere observer in a realm beyond the physical world.

Suddenly, he spotted a figure huddled separately from the group. His heart rattled in his ribcage as he realized. "Tav?"

Her hair fell like a curtain around her face, obscuring what he could see of her expression. But it was unmistakable - the once fiery and headstrong leader was now slumped onto the cold ground, whimpering into her hands. Underneath a velvet curtain in a darkened corner of the room, she sat, knees drawn up to her chest, tears streaming down her face. Next to her Shadowheart was attempting to offer consolation through soft words.

Even though Astarion couldn't hear what she whispered to Tav, he saw her hand reach out to comfort the devastated woman. But Tav recoiled from her touch like it was a burning ember.

"Maybe if I had done it he wouldn't have left," Tav was whispering between sobs.

"You know that would have killed him on the long run! We did what had to be done to protect him and you know it."

"No, no..." he muttered, "this can't be..."

Astarion felt his own heart shatter at the sight. He took a step towards them but stopped himself, remembering the impossibility of the situation. He couldn't touch her, couldn't comfort her.

"Do you think he meant it?" Tav said, suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

"That he hopes I die screaming." Tav's voice cracked as tears threatened to spill from her eyes once again.

Shadowheart's surprised eyes met hers. "He didn't mean it, Tav... You know how Astarion gets when he's upset."

But Tav shook her head, her face drained of color and desperation evident in her tone. "He meant every word," she whispered, barely audible. "I could see it in his eyes." After a shaky breath, she added with a hint of resignation, "And part of me wishes I would too."

Each word she spoke felt like a physical blow, causing Astarion's chest to tighten and his heart to ache. He watched helplessly as her voice cracked with resignation, her head dropping onto his shirt in defeat. His shirt. Shit.

"No, please..." he pleaded. But it was too late, the damage had been done.

Astarion's heart ached at her words, but he couldn't deny the truth in them. He had said some unforgivable things to Tav in the heat of the moment, fueled by anger and hurt. Deep down, a part of him had wished for her to suffer just as he was suffering. But seeing her like this, broken and in pain, made him realize the gravity of his actions. He never wanted for her to actually die. Hells, he was so deeply in love with her that the mere thought of anything happening to her was unbearable.

He took a step closer, wanting to comfort her somehow. But he was trapped in this surreal vision, unable to reach out and mend the shattered pieces of their relationship.

Slowly, the vision began to fade, the colors blurring into the darkness. Astarion felt himself growing lighter, pulled back from the vision.

"No, wait! Tav!"

The Elfsong tavern phased out and he was back in the expanse of starry darkness. His heart pounded in his chest as he processed what he had just witnessed. He wanted to go back, to somehow fix the damage he had caused.

Suddenly, a figure appeared before him in a flash of light. It was G'axir.

"You," Astarion growled as he stepped forward aggressively, "What have you done? Bring me back!"

G'axir held up a hand placatingly. "You have glimpsed... into the unfolding tapestry of the now" G'axir stated cryptically "Behold... now your vision shall traverse the myriad paths of potential futures."

Next chapter ->

[ravenromanova]

Too close

Pairings: Ghostface Bucky x Female reader (I got this idea from a tiktok i saw of someone that made a scream poster of bucky as ghostface and i died and i also read a natasha ghostface fic and it was so good and i thought why not make one of bucky!) This is the fic that inspired this, by @abbyromanoff you can run but you cant hide

Warnings: Mentions of killing, blood, SMUT 18+!!!!! Mask kink, knife play, Blood kink, Daddy kink, Breeding kink, unprotected sex (Bucky and the reader have sex in another room from an unalived person) (My darkest fantasies are coming out to play here sue me) DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18+!!!!!!!!

Summary- Bucky doesn’t like it when people get too close to his girl. What happens when you figure out why everyone you talk to suddenly dies. Will you run?

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!

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“This just in another the mysterious serial killer known as ghostface has claimed another victim. 22 year old Jordan Rodriguez was found in her new york apartment with 50 stab wounds. She was found by her roommate Janice after she came home from work. Officers haven’t given many details as to if they are any leads into who this killer could be. But they have advised everyone within the brooklyn area to be inside by 8pm to limit any risks.” The nightly news reporters vice echos through your apartment as you watch through hooded eyes.

This was the fifth person this week to die a brutal death and not to mention you seem to have had an interaction with everyone that has died. Fear floods your veins as your head runs a thousand miles and hour and what this could mean. Is someone out to hurt you? Do you have a stalker who is killing everyone you know to get you alone? Are you next? That’s all you can think about before your thoughts are cut off by the front door opening.

You shriek and jump off the couch and run to the kitchen to grab whatever knife you can. You decide to duck behind your island with the knife as you hear footsteps walk in. The footsteps are heavy yet soft as the approach you. It’s not until the figure comes closer to you that you jump in front of them and attempt to stab them but they catch your hand.

“Woah they’re tiger” The voice says and you drop the knife once you realize who it is. You flick on the kitchen light before walking over to him and throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him.

“I’m sorry jamie” You apologize to your boyfriend and he just chuckles in response.

“It’s okay babydoll, but what has you so freaked out?” He asks looking at your with eyes of concern.

You sigh as you look at him before you decide to tell him what’s wrong. “The news- They said another person has been killed…A-And i knew the person who was killed, Ive known all the people who’ve died this week! What-what if someone is out to hurt me? What i-if i- die?” Your voice breaks as you speak your fears. He looks at you and brings you in for another hug.

“Oh babydoll it’s going to be okay im sure it’s nothing” He said calmly as she stroked your back and kissing the top of your head.

You sighed as you looked at him while you nodded your head. Maybe you were just being paranoid you thought, maybe this is just one big coincidence and you’ll be fine. Yea… you’ll be fine.

“Yea maybe you’re right” You didn’t sound too convinced with your own words but you try to shake off the feeling that something bad is happening.

“Come on babydoll lets get you into bed so you stop overthinking in that pretty little head of yours” His voice is so soft and sweet as he takes your hand in his and walks you two to the bedroom. When the both of you enter the room he tells you to lay down and then goes to get something. Thirty seconds later he comes back with your favorite blanket and stuffed animal and slides in bed next to you.

That night the two of you cuddle and have cute little conversations that help ease your overthinking. You fell asleep with him whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

What you didn’t know was that Bucky was panicking since he stepped foot into the apartment. He thought he had been caught when you attempted to stab him but luckily for him you were as clueless as ever.

~one week later~

You sighed as you watched the news and they reported the 8th murder in two weeks. And very unfortunately for you, you had known the persons who died…just like the rest of them. That really didn’t help with the overthinking that’s for sure.

It was around 4am when you decided to turn off the tv and head to bed. Your brows furrowed when you realized Bucky wasnt home yet. You thought maybe he had gotten an overnight shift at the garage but normally he tells you that. You decided to check ‘find my friends’ since it kinda worried you that he wasnt home.

When his location showed that he was at an apartment complex your heart sank. A thousand possibilities were running through your head as you threw some sweats on, grabbed your keys and headed out the door to find your boyfriend.

The whole car ride you were full of anxiety and your brain wouldn’t shut up. Once you pulled up to the complex you quickly ran to the car not in the mood to play around if he was fucking someone else. You followed the gps and walked right up to the front door but you noticed it was open slightly. So what did you do? You walked right into the dark apartment despite not knowing who or what you’d find.

But what you did find sent bile to your throat. There was a figure dressed in all black standing over who you thought was your boyfriend with a knife in their hand.

“BUCKY!” You screamed as you ran over to the body on the floor. It wasnt until you got up close that you realized that the person wasnt Bucky…It was the barista that served you your coffee this morning. Your thoughts ran wild as you mumbled incoherent words under your breath.

But those were quickly cut off once your heard the masked figured laughing. You whipped your head around and stared at the figure in horror.

“Oh Kotenok you’re so precious” The masked figured said as he slowly removed his mask. Your eyes widened as you saw who was under the mask… It was Bucky. You quickly stood up and backed away from him as you started to hyperventilate.

“W-What the hell?” You finally said after you finally slowed your breathing down. Bucky chuckled as he came closer to you and wiped some sweat off his forehead.

“I guess it’s finally time to tell you-“ He said as she took off the costume and dropped the knife. You stared at him as his hand come up to caress your cheek. “You see kotenok i never meant for any of this to happen- But these people-t-they flirt with you and get too close to you. And i cant have that, i cant have people wanting to take what’s mine. And see i wouldn’t mind so much that people mindlessly flirt with you… if you didn’t flirt back” He seethed as he grabbed your face.

You were speechless at his confession never in a million years did you think he’d do this. But the idea that you’re his motive, that he just wants to keep you to his self is intoxicating. You look up at him with doe eyes before you finally find the words to say.

“You do all of this to make sure that i stay yours” Your voice heightens in excitement as you wait for his response.

His grip tightens on your face as he speaks. “Yes kotenok i do- i cant stand the thought of someone else having you the way i do” He confess as his eyes darken at the way you smirk.

“That’s- the hottest thing i think you’ve ever said to me” Bucky smiles devilishly at your words and suddenly picks you up and pushes you against the wall. His lips are on yours within a seconds time and the kiss is the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done.

“Put the mask back on” The words come out breathless as your chest rises due to the lack of air. He smirks as he walks you over to the couch and lays you down before grabbing the mask and knife again. He put the mask back on and then slowly stalks towards you and he twirls the knife in his hand.

“Oh fuck” You whisper under your breath when he climbs on top of you. Even though you cant see his face you know for a fact he’s smirking. He wastes no time in ripping off your shirt along with your sweats leaving you in just your panties.

“So pretty” His voice comes out a little muffled as he speaks due to the mask but it made it so much hotter. He then takes the knife that he wiped off and drags it across your bare chest. Your breath hitches in your throat as the cool metal hits your skin. Bucky then drags the knife down your torso and slices your panties off and drags it across your bare pussy.

“Please” You beg as you grab the hand with the knife and place it on your stomach. He places the blade on your skin and digs it in just a little, “Mark me” Bucky wastes no time in carving his initials into your skin he leaves a little ‘J.B.B’ on your stomach, before wiping the blood away with his thumb. Your grab his thumb and slowly bring it to your mouth before you clean his thumb off.

“Fucking hell kotenok” He groans at your actions. Bucky grows impatient as he throws the knife across the room making note to pick it back up later. He then spreads your pussy and starts to play with your clit and your back arches in reaction.

“Please daddy” You beg and then he adds two fingers into you in a swift motion and chooses a relentless pace. This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever done but right now, in this moment you dont give a flying fuck.

The pleasure you feel is beyond intense as Bucky curls his fingers and hits your g-spot just right. You let out a screaming moan as your first orgasm bursts through you. “Oh fuck” You breathe out the best you can as you slowly takes off his pants and boxers exposing his hard cock standing at attention for you.

“I want you so bad please daddy” He doesn’t need much motivation after you give him the go ahead. Bucky slams his cock into you hard and fast and you scream in response to his movement.

“Yes yes yes” You chant as you sit up and wrap your arms around him as Bucky slams into you. The room is filled with the filthy noises of your pussy and his balls slapping your skin.

“Gonna fucking breed you kotenok” He grunts and picks up his speed chasing his high. You can feel your second orgasm build up as he talks about breeding you.

“Oh please breed me daddy- fuck- wanna be full of your babies” You plead as you grind your hips down on his cock earning a guttural moan from him.

“Yea? You want that your little slut? You wanna have my kids?” He asks even though he already knows the answer. You dont find the words to respond and just opt for nodding your head. And in turn Bucky changes the position so he’s back on top and he thrusts into you like never before. Your moans become louder and his pace gets rougher. The both of you end up finishing within a matter of minutes and once you do you take the mask off him and just stare at him.

You take a moment and rub your thumb over his bottom lip before you bring him into a passionate kiss. Bucky grunts into the kiss and wraps his arms around your waist lovingly. After you break the kiss you look into his blue eyes and smile softly.

“I love you” You whisper and put your forehead against his. In this moment you love him more than you ever thought possible. Did he murder someone? Yes. Did he kill almost a dozen people just for you? Yes. But he also did it because he loves you and that just makes your heart swell. You get an idea after a minute of just looking at him.

“Let’s clean this place up and then run away, Lets go some where else where it can be just us” You say with a pleading looking in your eyes. Bucky agrees and nods before getting you both dressed again.

The two of you clean up the mess and decide of what to do with the body before heading back home to pack your things. That night while in a way tragic was also the start of the rest of your lives together and you couldn’t be happier.

~the end~

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