#butterfly knife fade

[karmasloverrr]

godspeed - rafe cameron

pairings- rafe cameron x maybank reader, established relationship

SZN 4 SPOILER!!!!!!!!!!!! you’ve been warned

this takes place in ep 10 right after everyone’s fighting and all that

———————————————————————————

The adrenaline was still running through your vains, like the hot, dusty sand you all found yourself in over the past couple of hours. Your hands are shaking, can’t fully grasp the weight of what you’ve just done.

“Baby?” You snap out of your shocked haze when a pair of comforting, familiar hands come to rest on the side of your waist , “a-are you ok?” His blue, stress ridden eyes bore into yours.

You take a shaky breath in, letting the gun you held drop to the ground below your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you jump up into him. “He almost killed you, Rafe. I thought I was gonna lose you, I-I didn’t have any other choice, he was so close to-“, your rambling was paused by him shushing you quietly and rubbing a hand soothingly up and down your back, his other gripping the back of your head like his life depended on it.

“I know, I know, breathe Y/N, breathe” You were sobbing now. Not out of remorse for one of Dalia’s men, whom you had just shot dead out of defense for Rafe, but because you almost lost the love of your life.

Rafe pulls away, still keeping a hand on your back, keeping you close. “You just saved my life, Y/N. I’m so proud of you for being strong, it’s gonna be ok.” He was now using a thumb to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

You nod frantically in understanding, sniffiling and leaning into his palms touch. Bringing a hand to his on your cheek, you intertwine fingers. “Are you o-ok? I mean you almost just got stabbed, Rafe. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if-“. He places both hands on your face now, demanding your attention.

“Hey, listen to me. You did exactly what I would’ve done if you were just in my situation, ok? Hell, I would’ve beat that fuckers face in before I let him get the chance to even go near you so don’t overthink this for a second, do you understand? I love you so much.”

You licked your lips and nodded. After Rafe had told you to stay with Kiara when he went to bide JJ some time with the crown, he got into trouble with one of Dalia’s men and hadn’t come back. You couldn’t stay still knowing he was by himself.

Despite protest from Kiara and how your brother needed you right now, you ran to look for Rafe. You could hear the sound of distress and punches being thrown before you could see them. Even through poor visibility you knew it was Rafe, your Rafe, being attacked. As you got closer you could see that he was being held at knife point and without thinking you pulled the gun out that rested at your hip and fired at the man’s back.

With JJ’s constant tutorials and a little bit of practice over the years you hit your target dead on. Except this time it wasn’t a beer bottle or a teddy bear, it was a human being and nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

Rafe continued to try and work you down from the shock and complete panic, rubbing your back and whispering sweet nothings into your hairline. He eventually brought a smile onto your face when he praised your accuracy and said how bad ass it was, “that’s my girl”.

“It was kind of badass wasn’t it?” He let out a laugh at your rebuttal. Even in your state of mind, the sound of it made your stomach tingle with butterflies.

“If I’m gonna be honest, after I realized what just happened and saw you standing there, I got a little turned o-“, you scoffed at his antics and pushed him away from you playfully. “Shut up.”

He pulled you back into him before you got any farther, wrapping both arms around your waist, in turn you grabbed his biceps, looking into the eyes that you love so much.

You let your smile fade a little when you saw his eyes glaze over, knowing he was about to get emotional.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You saved me and I couldn’t possibly thank you enough, please don’t feel guilty or anything like that. I would do anything for you too, y’know that.”

“I know, and seeing you like that, in that danger, made me sick and I-I just blacked out.” He nodded slowly in understanding, “but I’d do it again if it meant that you were ok.” you continued.

You were now the one stroking his arms in comfort, his head nodding up and down telling you he was processing it all. Now putting yourself on your tip toes to reach his face, you placed your lips on his in a loving kiss.

Pulling away, you placed your forehead on his. “It’s you and me, Cameron. Always.” He pulled away and placed a loving peck on the crown of your head, “Damn right, sweetheart.”

Taking his hand in yours, you began to walk back towards the direction that Kiara and JJ were. “Let’s go see if J found this fucking thing.”

Rafe scoffed but followed your lead, “I’ve had enough of this fairytale pogue sh-“, you gave him a ‘really?’ look, to which he held his hand up in defense and shrugged.

“They’ve made it this far, you’ve gotta hand it to them and besides, this is a little exciting don’t you think?”

He frowned and shook his head, “Almost just got stabbed to death but yeah, sure, having a grand old time.” You giggled at his sarcasm, used to it by now.

Walking up the hill, you exaggeratedly began to swing your intertwined hands back and forth to which he protested against immediately stating “this isn’t a rom-com, please stop” but deep down, he loved seeing you make light out of a shitty situation.

He knows it’s due to you being so used to doing it because of Luke growing up, which never fails to make his heart beat in rage, but everything in his world is ok, perfect, when he gets to see you smiling like this.

When you both reach the top, there’s an absence of your little brother and Kiara that causes your smile and stomach to drop. The sandstorm passed yet they’re still nowhere in sight.

“JJ?” you call out, in hopes that they’re possibly somewhere in ear range. Nothing.

“J! Kie! Guys?” You let go of Rafe’s hand, heading to go circle around the statue.

“Woah, don’t go by yourself. If they’re someplace close by they sure as hell didn’t stick around here, let’s head back towards the buildings. They probably met back up with John B and Sarah.”

You shook your head, “No, if they got the crown and were ok, they would’ve just came and found us. Rafe, somethings not right.” You started to head more towards the statue in hopes that they went a different direction but Rafe steps infront of you before you can get any further.

“Hey, stop. I know you’re worried but incase you forgot, it’s not just them that Daria’s men are looking for, ok? I’m not letting you get hurt in the process of trying to find them.”

You took the arm that he held out to his side as a barrier and shoved it. “Rafe, that’s my brother, please we need to at least look around the area and see-“ He began to side step along with you so you couldn’t move around him.

“I understand that, Y/N/N, but let’s use the brain I know you have and think rationally, alright? They probably went back with the group assuming we were there too, ok? Let’s start there.”

You shook your head in annoyance, you’ve always been stubborn and you’re certainly not budging about this. “All I’m saying, Rafe, is that we check around the area first, m-maybe they didn’t hear me when I yelled.”

“Baby, please listen to m-“

“John B! Pope! Y/N!”

You whipped your head to the direction of Kiara’s wail echoing through the air. A sound of desperation like you’ve never heard and don’t wanna hear again. “Oh my god.” you whispered in fear.

Rafe looked at you with agony in his eyes, recognizing the same fret in her voice that you did. Without any hesitation you took off down the hill, not listening to Rafe’s protest to “wait for him”.

Your mind was moving as fast as your legs, you didn’t know where you were going but it’s like your body knew exactly where to take you.

Weaving down and through the same maze like corridors that you had escaped from earlier led you closer to the sounds of your friends, “Kie?”, you yelled out in despair, now acknowledging Rafe’s footsteps a few seconds behind you.

You felt the room before you saw it, your stomach already declaring that somethings wrong, very wrong. Before you could brace yourself, you saw the image infront of you. Blood. John B shaking him. Kiara with her head on his chest and hands on his stomach. JJ.

“JJ?” you didn’t even recognize your own voice as it barely came out of your mouth, cracking and whispery, desperate and defeated.

Stumbling to a halt against Rafe’s chest, you felt your legs giving out from underneath you, a pair of arms coming to catch you before you collapsed. No, not him, please God, don’t do this to me, no. Rafe’s arms were the only thing keeping you stable while you began to crumble, him collapsing down to the floor with you as weeps exited your mouth, shaking your whole body.

You didn’t have to look at him very long to know he’s gone, you could feel it. Sobs and pleads from the group didn’t register against your own. It sounded so foreign coming out of your body. “He’s dead” you sobbed, physically feeling your heart breaking. “JJ, no”, you wailed. Your head feels a thousand pounds as you slowly lift it off the ground.

Rafe has his own placed against the top of your spine, his forehead making a known presence on your back, still gripping your arms as if you’ll go too if he doesn’t. To the best of your ability you try to stand, legs still feeling mush as you feel Rafe’s touch disappear the closer you get to your little brother.

Halfway through, you give up on the poor excuse for walking and collapse back to the ground again, now crawling towards his lifeless body. “JJ, wake up, please!”. The only sounds you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your sobbing screams and your heart breaking.

Your palm meets his face, already feeling so cold and lifeless, the exact opposite of JJ Maybank. “Please don’t do this to me. W-wake up, JJ!”. You continue stroking his cheek, patting it lightly a few times, hoping, begging, pleading for your brother to wake up.

Stroking his hair, you shake your head out of disbelief. Hushed whispers exit your lips, trying to reach the deepest parts of him.“I can’t do this without you JJ, don’t leave me.” It’s been you and him against the world, the shit hand you’ve been given wasn’t too bad when you had each other to fall back on.

Growing up you found solice in each other, you didn’t need anyone to help you or comfort you, you had your little brother and he had his older sister. When Luke was to drunk to help JJ get ready for school in the morning, it was you brushing his hair, picking out his outfit, making his lunch. With your mother long gone, you took pride in being that figure in his life and it was your greatest achievement, seeing the man he had turned into, no matter how rebellious and defiant, you loved him like your own, and now that he’s gone, what’s left for you?

“Who was it? Kiara, who did this to him?” you now turned your attention from JJ to Kie, her looking just as horrified as the rest of the group. A look of disgusted rage took over your face, your stomach bubbling with hatred.

She sniffled before speaking, “Chandler, h-he stabbed him, I- JJ saved me and gave him the crown, I don’t know- I can’t.” She began to sob, recalling the traumatic moment.

Motherfucker. If the betrayal wasn’t enough, knowing JJ was just trying to save his loved one and this is how he’s repaid?

You can’t see or think straight, one moment you’re mourning the loss of your best friend and the next you’re taking all the strength you have left and standing up with the gun on your hip, reloading the clip and heading towards the direction Kie said he went.

You don’t get very far before Sarah and John B rush to your side. “Y/N. Stay. We need you right now. Don’t do this.” You shake them off of you, sending your elbow into John B’s stomach in the process. “Get the fuck off of me.”

You whip around and point the gun at the group, they look at you in shock, not processing what’s going on. Your breathing is uneasy as you lick the forming sweat off your lips. “If any of you touch me one more time, I swear t-to God. I’m going to kill Groff and none of you are getting in my way.”

Looking around you see the faces of your best friends, sad, confused, and angry. The gun pointed at them has your stomach dropping. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.” The gun you have aimed at them is making you sick all over again.

Rafe takes a few hesitant steps forward when he sees you begin to rub your chest anxiously, knowing it’s your way of trying to work your way down from a panic attack.

“Sweetheart, put the gun down, ok?” None of his words are registering with you. He’s gone, he’s gone, JJ’s dead.

Rafe catches you just before you start to collapse again, this time into the comfort of his chest and arms. He takes the gun that’s hanging loosely from your hand and reaches it behind his back for John B to take.

“Rafe, he’s dead. He’s g-gone.” sobbing the dreadful words into his chest, his shirt catching your tears. You’re both on the ground now, him cradling you like a toddler as he rocks you back and forth in comfort.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry, baby.” He strokes your hair and rubs your back, soaking in all of your pain. Your sobs begin to muffle as the others join in with you, still begging JJ to wake up, to open his eyes and to come back.

The weight of the air feels similar to your chest, no matter how much comfort and apologies Rafe whispers into your hair, it’s still not enough, your baby brothers gone and he’s never coming back.

The warmth of the fire fans your face. Emotionally and physically drained is where you and the Pogues have found yourself. Rafe keeps a steady eye on you as your head leans against his shoulder, knowing the last time you spoke was a few hours ago when he buried JJ, none of you being able to bring yourselves to do it.

Stray tears slip down your face, your expression remaining uninterested and dry. The only sound that can be heard is an occasional sniffing from the group and the cracks of the wood in the dying out fire infront of you.

You feel Rafe’s heartbeat against your back and his chest move when he talks. “I don’t know. If it was my friend I’d probably go after the guy that just killed him, yeah?” You take a steady breath in, getting ready to defend him when Pope tells him to “shut up”.

“You guys think that JJ would just sit here if it was one of us?” The whole group turns its attention to you, knowing you’ve been far too quiet for far too long, like JJ, you can be a ticking time bomb in moments like these.

John B is the first to speak up, “We all know what JJ would do. He’d get even.” You nod, still looking at the fire, kicking some sand as you stand up to begin pacing in rage.

Rafe watches your moves carefully, ready to defend you and back you up for whatever you’re about to say. He trusts you and he’s knows your best interest, you could tell him the sky was purple and he’d agree, while placing a loving kiss on your cheek.

You shake your head in agreement, feeling the never subsided rage bubble back up into your throat.

“Revenge.”

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[wanderingblindly]

hi hi hi, kiss prompt 29 anon here!! i totally understand, i was just going with the "safest" option. i am a lover of rarepairs my self so choscar, maxcar, maxlewis, are some examples i am currently obsessed with. but write with any pairs youd like or think fit the prompt best, im just here to enjoy your thoughts on them!! thanks in advance

thank you for sending a second prompt!!!! And thank you extra for understanding my previous response <33333333 have some Chocsar, set loosely before Monza! It's my first attempt, and I'd like to workshop it more but i fear doing so would... result in my never posting ever so. tadah! Prompts!

Hunting, Hunted

F1 is, all things considered, not that different from F2 – at least not to Oscar. There's the learning curve, there's the growing pains that keep him up at night, and there's the spotlight; it's not all the dissimilar from the F3 transition to F2, really.

But there's one thing that he hadn't anticipated.

It's a lot more… He shifts in his seat as he thinks about it, not paying nearly as much attention to the driver's briefing as he should. Charles looks over at him, sat between Max and Pierre, and his eyes are like pins in the wings of a butterfly – sharp, painfully sharp and oh so focused.

As fast as he looks at him, he looks away.

Oscar swallows.

It's a lot more like foreplay, like some really fucked up foreplay where everyone wants to claw out your eyes before they shove you down.

Frankly, Oscar's not sure if he's handling it well; he's certainly not handling Charles Leclerc and the way he can wrap anyone around his finger with a one dimpled smile. Lando's give him looks before, the silent one where Oscar's positive he's calling him an idiot, because he's caught him staring at Charles in the paddock – Charles laughing through interviews, Charles jogging after Carlos with his racesuit tied low around his hips.

But it's not the looks. Beautiful men, like many things about F1, aren't that new from F2.

It's Charles, and everything about him, specifically.

It started in Belgium, lap thirty-six.

Oscar managed to beat him on the outside line, managed to show him that he was that much more confident, that he was that much better. And it felt good, it felt fucking electric; Oscar nearly let himself smile in the car, and maybe he would have if he'd spared a look back – but he hadn't.

Somehow, that made it so much sweeter.

Charles had given him a look cold enough to freeze hell later that day, and Oscar had taken it in stride – literally. He kept walking by, not giving him the pleasure of even a raised brow. But that was normal, at the time, or at least Oscar wasn't alarmed by it. Competition is competition, and tensions run high. They did in F2, they do in F1, whatever.

But by Zandvoort, Oscar realized he was wrong.

Charles had sought him out after the race, still dripping champagne and rubbing at his eyes – trying to will away the blinding sting. In the fading daylight, he still looked shockingly alive, as if he drained himself in the weeks away from the podium like a sacrifice. Before Oscar could mumble out a disingenuous genuine congratulations, Charles beat him to it.

"No smart move from you today?" He smiled, all teeth and no sweetness.

It punched Oscar in the nose. As the crush of post-race circus swarmed around them, Charles drove a knife right into his smarting cuts. He twisted it.

"I was hoping for a better fight. From you, I mean." He continued, and all Oscar could do was stare, mind gone entirely blank. With a wink, one of his better attempts, Charles clapped Oscar on the shoulder and started to walk on – pressing him down like a disobedient dog. "Try harder for me next time, yes?"

Belatedly, at a speed entirely unacceptable for a racing driver, Oscar put the pieces together. Charles wanted to do more than beat him, dominate him. He wanted to consume him after breaking him down into miniscule pieces, but he wanted a fight; it makes his stomach twist, makes somewhere lower than his stomach ache.

Rolling his shoulders, mentally brushing off the feeling of Charles's hand on his fireproofs, Oscar moved on like nothing happened.

And now Charles is looking at him again.

Pierre turns and looks too, losing interest immediately and whispering something in Charles's ear. Charles swats at him blindly, still holding Oscar's gaze – almost as if to prove that he can. He needs to prove that he won't look away first, maybe. Or that, more importantly, Oscar will.

He doesn't.

Neither looks away as the briefing ends, pulled together by some invisible string amidst the casual chaos of the drivers dispersing. They stand nearly chest to chest; Charles smiles like he wants to lean forward and bit Oscar's nose off, spit it down at his feet.

They wait, peripherally aware of the room growing empty, the air becoming still. The wait until it's just them, just the sound of Charles's voice.

"This circuit is mine." Charles says, faux-casually. It's loaded with meaning, loaded with an unspoken 'so try and take it from me'.

Oscar raises a brow. "Thought it was Ferrari's."

"Is it not the same thing?" He leans closer, taunting.

"Guess so," Oscar agrees, voice not betraying his heart rate. "Beaten both before, anyways."

Charles laughs a little, haughty and toying – like a cat watching a mouse try and work out some clever escape. Their faces are too close together for Oscar not to feel it, for it not to leave a trail of blushed Ferrari red on his cheeks.

Charles still hasn't looked away. Neither has he.

"Make it a good fight, I want to earn it." Charles finally says, voice ringing in Oscar's ears.

"You think I'll just roll over for you?"

"I would never," His voice drops low, head tilting slightly to the left – lips parted like he wants something from him. "Because I want to rip it from you, the podium. So promise," Charles's breath is hot on Oscar's lips. So close. Their eyes stay open. "Promise to try and get me."

Oscar moves first, leans forward to steal Charles's lips in some sort of psycho-sexual moment of delirium. He takes Charles's breath, he takes Charles's hands in his hair, he takes every bit of Charles that he can get under his nails and teeth and tongue, as some sort of agreement – some sort of 'I promise'.

[hermitcraftguesstheauthorevent]

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@mcytblrsource

[iwishthebestforyou]

it still hurts, watching him fade away

kazuha x gn!reader // I didn't reread it before I posted it, so probably isn't that good

sypnosis: your childhood bestfriend — who you've had a BIG crush on since kindergarten is moving away soon. With the remaining time you have to be near him, you make it a mission to confess before he leaves.

angst btw

You fiddled with your pen as your teacher continues speaking about a topic you couldn't care less about, your mind on a whole different topic.

Staring at the window beside your seat, looking out at the view. It was already the end of your senior year, exams are piling up and it seems spring is coming to an end.

Your eyes left the windows view and stared at the career test on your table, the small piece of paper felt heavier than it should have. The simple questions make you feel pure dread.

Looking around the classroom, everyone was writing down their hopes, dreams and ambitions on that paper. While yours laid empty.

Sighing deeply, as the bell rang signifying the end of the class, finally. Your paper was still empty so, guess you'll turn it in tomorrow.

Walking out the classroom, you watched everyone walk by. Everything felt so fast, like time was mocking you as it flew by, the people around you seemingly adapted to the fast currents of time, while you.. you're still stuck here. Still stuck never knowing where you're gonna be..

Your deep thought process was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder, ah—

Its him. Kazuha.

The man you've grown to love for years, your childhood crush up until now. It may seem silly, but you've loved him ever since you were a child. Ever since he helped you up that day when you sprained your knee, that memory still perfectly in touch, the way he cried harder than you did despite you being the one injured.

It was meant to be right?

You smiled at him as he chuckled

" Just what are you doing here, standing around here hm? Waiting for me? "

He teased, words casual like always. He had no idea how much it affected you — you hated how he could say such words without being affected, while you were a mess just from a simple sentence.

" No way! I was just thinking... " You said, defending yourself from the accusation that he gave. You're not waiting for him!

" Thinking about what? It's not like you to be so lost in thought.. " He said, responding pretty quickly, as his face turned into one of curiosity.

Your face started to heat up.

" It's nothing.. it's just about the career thing.. that stupid test. " You said, looking at him and you felt the butterflies erupting in your stomach, God, how could he just stand there and look so.. so beautiful?

His eyes softened, nodding in understanding before looking at the window, the sun now annoyingly bright.. but he didn't seem as affected as you.

" I already filled that out. I'm moving abroad, I don't think staying in one place is my thing .. " He said a soft smile on his face and yours faltered.

Huh? He's moving?

Your breath hitched before you quickly repeated

" Abroad? " ..

" Yeah. " He said, looking at you.. but it felt like a knife was twisting in your chest.

" Oh.. good for you! " You said, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur after those words. Moving abroad?.. You felt the weight in your chest grow heavier.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about this before.. people leave, plans change and he's no different, you always knew he had bigger dreams than this small town.. He has to do what he can to get a good future, no?.. but hearing him say it so casually made it feel so.. feel so weird.

You had one month.

Your eyes lingered on him as he walked ahead, the sunlight catching his hair in a way that made your heart ache even more. You clenched your fist, a new found determination.

One month to say what you’ve been holding onto for years.

One month to say I love you.

You can do this.

As days flew by, you found yourself clinging to every moment with Kazuha. The playful teasing, the comfortable silences everything about him became a little more exciting, a little more bittersweet, knowing that by the end of this month you won't be able to see him as freely, each playful remark, each smile a silent plea for him to realize your feelings.

You tried to confess in small ways, complimenting him, subtle hints on reconnecting after graduation, but Kazuha seemed oblivious. Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same. The thought ate you alive, but there's only a few weeks left.. you cant back out!

" Are you going to the festival? "

Your friend asked, as you snapped out your thoughts and looked up at her. Nodding absentmindedly.

" Ah.. yeah. "

Your town had an annual festival, fireworks would be lit up, the whole town would be there and it would mark your last festival before you enter adulthood.

As the days continue passing by, You had gathered the courage to ask him to the festival, determined to make him yours by the end, this would be your final attempt..

Now.. it was the day of the festival.

The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, lanterns glowing in the dusk, and the scent of street food filling the air. It was the perfect setting, almost like something out of a movie, the perfect setting to confess.

" Ah, this place is beautiful as ever.. " He complimented, looking around.

Kazuha walked beside you, seemingly carefree as always. Talking about his day, his poems.. you barely listened, heart racing thinking about what could happen tonight.

You guys took photos together, played games.. everything a couoke would do. You felt warm, really excited. Happy to be with him.

" The fireworks should start soon.. " You said, the fireworks starting soon also signifys your confession. You can do this. Your ready.

You both found a quiet spot away from the crowds, it was a secret spot you looked for weeks before the festival, just so you guys can have this moment. A high top that overlooked the town.

The countdown begun, the countdown..

5. the crowd started, as you started building up your courage..

" 4! " The townspeople screamed, your mind screaming at you to just do it already!

" 3! " No regrets this time. C'mon. Just say it.

Your eyes looked at him, face scrunching in determination.

" 2! " You can do this.

Before the final number, You stole a glance at Kazuha, his face illuminated by the flickering lights, his expression peaceful, a glint of excitement in his eyes at he stared at the sky expectedly.

Your heart pounded. This was it.

You opened your mouth, the words sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue. I love you.

Your hand trembled as you reached for his. The distance between your hands was so small, yet it felt like an ocean. But before you could close the gap, a wave of fear crashed over you.

What if telling him would change everything? What if he didn’t feel the same, and this comfortable space between you shattered? Every single moment from before up to now would be useless. No way, you can't handle that. You didn’t want to risk losing him, even if it meant never knowing.

You hesitated, fingers curling back into your palm. The words died in your throat, swallowed by the sound of the fireworks exploding in the distance.

Kazuha turned to you, smiling softly, completely unaware of the mental battle in your head,

You forced yourself to smile back, the ache in your chest growing.

The fireworks lighting up the sky and the people cheering in joy, it felt like the world was mocking you.

"Enjoying the fireworks?" he asked, his voice casual and soft, the same voice you wish you could forget right now.

You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak, feeling something welling up in your eye, looking away from him.

The fireworks continued to light up the night sky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to watch them anymore, the moment was quiet. If maybe in different circumstances it would've been a romantic moment. But right now, you felt so far from him.

You had your chance and you let it slip away.

As the fireworks bloomed in the sky, casting their glow over the town, you felt the weight of the silence pressing harder against your chest. You’d practiced this moment in your head a hundred times, imagining the perfect scenario where you’d gather the courage to say the words.

Just 3 words.

But now, standing beside him, it felt impossible.

Kazuha leaned back, a soft smile, letting out a soft sigh. He seemed content, his eyes reflecting the colors above. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and content.

You nodded again, still unable to speak, eyes looking away. You couldn't bare to look up at the sky. The ache that had been simmering in your chest all month— maybe years, had finally turned into a dull, throbbing pain. How could you stand here, so close to him, and still feel so far away..

Isn't he supposed to be your safe person?

Another firework exploded in the distance, removing you from your thoughts, followed by a round of cheers from the people down below. The world seemed so full of life, moving together. But here, in this quiet corner with Kazuha, all you could feel was the passing of time slipping through your fingers and the fear of what's next.

You tried to focus on the present, on the warmth of the moment, but your mind kept spinning back to the what ifs.

But each question led to another knot in your stomach, each doubt pulling you further from the idea of confessing.

As the last burst of fireworks lit up the sky, Kazuha stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. He turned to you with a soft, gentle smile—the kind that made your heart flutter and ache at the same time, he pulled you up. The touch making you feel horrible and warm.

"Thanks for today," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. " I had a lot of fun. "

How could he just smile like that?

You managed a small smile in return, trying to ignore the tears threatening to spill over.

" Me too ."

For a moment, you stood there, staring at him, hoping maybe, just maybe.. he’d say something, say that he understands the feelings lingering between you. But he didn’t.

Instead, Kazuha gave a small wave, turning back toward the festival lights. "Let's head back. It's getting late."

As he walked ahead, your gaze followed him, the words you could never say caught in your throat. You had your chance, and you let it slip away. And now, all you could do was watch as the one person who meant the world to you disappeared into the crowd, the distance between you growing with every step, he was moving on. Just like everyone else.

He was going home and in the heat of moment you screamed at him from afar,

" Kazuha! The moon..! The moon is beautiful tonight!! "

You yelled, smiling at him with a pained look, a desperate look. Just maybe— Maybe!

He looks back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. He sighed before flashing a soft bittersweet smile and yelling back.

" I prefer the sunset. "

The tears you've been holding back all this time finally spilled, all your emotions hitting you. Sobs coming out as you looked down.

— And just like that, that marks the end of your crush on Kazuha, a crush that lasted from kindergarten to now, your eyes fixed on his figure that slowly got smaller the further he got.

A painful reminder that your no one special in his life, when in yours he was the most special one. You will fade into his memories, staying as someone in the past, never the present.

And so, you stayed there, standing alone under the empty sky, watching the flickering glow of the festival fade into the night. He was moving on, just like the sunset.

And maybe.. maybe it was time for you to do the same.

[shiftingparadise]

May I request a Feitan x Reader please? Cute stuff cute stuff everywhere. A fluff with Feitan trying to confess his feelings and failing a few times before actually getting it right.

Hi guys!! I'm back <3 I hope you enjoy this one. If you don't, or if you would like to give some feedback, feel free to do so.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1294

“What?”, you shyly asked. “You keep staring at me, it’s freaking me out, Fei”. “Tsk, wasn’t looking at you”, his cold eyes darted to the side. “Right”, you sighed before you got up. “Where’s boss anyway? We’ve been waiting in this building for ages. I’m getting tired”. “You can  sleep here”, Hisoka smirked as he pointed toward his lap. “Fuck off”, you picked up a stone and threw it toward the magician, earning a chuckle in response. “I’m going outside for a bit. I’m getting bored”. 

No one answered. Everyone seemed to be in their own little world. Hisoka playing with his cards, Shalnark updating his device, Feitan sharpening his knife… 

“Hm”, you contentedly smiled as the moonlight greeted your skin, a soft breeze carried the familiar scent of the city toward you. 

“What are you doing?”, Feitan’s voice came from behind you. “Nothing”, your smile slowly faded. “I’ve noticed”, Feitan now standing next to you. “Noticed?”, you frowned as your eyes scanned his expression. 

“Cold as ever”, you thought. You always failed to read him, leaving you clueless as to what he was thinking or feeling.

“Your eyes”, he said, turning to look at you, “They’re sad”. “H-huh?”, you widened your eyes, “T-that’s not true Fei-“. “It’s fine”, he kept his eyes locked on yours, “You don’t have to talk about it”.

Silence. 

“But I’d like you too”, he awkwardly added as he stared into the distance. “It’s nothing”, you forced a smile. 

For a second, you noticed a hint of disappointment in his eyes. It was the first time you saw any kind of emotion on his face. 

“Pretty, right? The moon, I mean”, you nervously chuckled. 

It was so obvious. Too obvious that you liked him. 

He shrugged his shoulders in response. “You’re prett-“, he stopped talking before finishing his sentence. “I-I’m what?”, a blush on your cheek. “An idiot”, he clenched his jaw before kicking a stone in front of him. “I’m going back, boss will be here soon”, and just like that, he disappeared. 

--- 

“Careful”, his hand wrapped around your arm, holding you back. “Oh, thanks, Fei”, you shyly smiled, “Didn’t notice we were going to cross a street”. “You never notice anything”. 

Why did he seem annoyed? 

“I’m sorry, Fei”, you lowered your eyes. “Don’t”, he softly placed his hand on the back of your head, gently massaging it for a second before pulling away. “Don’t apologize”. “Hm”, your cheeks red. Without saying anything else, his hand glided down to your waist, gently pushing you forward, “We can cross now”. 

Butterflies. The way his hand gently pinched your waist, the way his voice sounded so soft when he talked to you… 

“Where are the others?”, you asked as you crossed. 

No answer. 

“Fei?”, you frowned as he kept his hand on your waist. “No others”, he softly answered. “H-huh? You said we were going to meet the others-“, “We are. In the evening”. “T-then what are we doing here?”, you stopped walking. “Wanted to get a coffee with you”, he placed his hands back in his pockets. “Oh”, you looked at the ground, a blush on your cheeks. 

Was this a date? Did he…? No, Fei wasn’t like this. 

“You don’t want to?”, his brows pulled together. “N-no, I could use some coffee now”. “Good”, he started walking again, not looking back at you. 

You walked behind him for a while before finally arriving at a cute, little café. 

“So cozy”, your eyes unwillingly lit up. “Hm, thought you’d like this place. What’d you want?”. “A latte, please”, you sat down as he went to the counter. 

“Here”, he carefully placed your coffee in front of you. “Thanks, Fei”. “Hm”, a small smile on his face. “W-what? A-are you smiling?”, your eyes went round in surprise. 

This was the first time you'd seen him do that. 

“Tsk, you don’t think I smile?”. “I-I’ve never seen you smile before”, you awkwardly cleared your throat. 

Silence. Again. 

“S-so, why were you smiling?”, you took a sip of your coffee. “Fei”, his voice sounded raspy, “I like it when you call me that”. 

Bright red. Your cheeks went bright red.

“So messy”, he leaned over the table before his thumb stroked over your soft lips. “H-huh?”, your eyes wide open. “There was some foam on your lips”, he  sat back down again. 

How could his touch feel so soft? So caring? You know what he did, what he enjoyed doing. It’s not like you were much better. You were also a Spider but… Feitan could be truly cruel, terrifying even. 

“I want to tell you something”, he stared out the window, looking at the cars passing. For some reason, he hadn’t touched his coffee yet. “Oh?”, you took another sip from yours. “I really like y-“, he paused again. “I really like coffee”, he lowered his eyes as he corrected himself. “Really?”, you smiled, “Me too. We should do this more often then”. You were clueless as to what he wanted to say. “Fine”, he coldly answered before finally taking a sip. 

--- 

“Dead, huh?”, you pulled your knees closer to your chest. The bright city lights greeted you like an old friend. You usually loved this. Sitting on a balcony of a hotel room, a soft breeze grazing over your cheeks… But not tonight. The loss of your friend far outweighed any pleasant feeling. 

“Dead”, Feitan said, sitting down beside you. “Where are the others?”, a cold look in your eyes. “Dealing with it in their own way”, he studied your face. “Why did you come here?”, you softly asked. “Wanted to make sure you were okay”. “There’s no time to grieve, Fei. Whether I’m fine or not, it doesn’t matter”. “It matters to me”, he looked at the sky. 

Why? Feitan wasn’t the kind of man to care about others, at least not like this. He cared about the Spiders, but he would never care about their feelings. 

“H-huh?”, you froze as Feitan placed a strand of hair behind your ear. You slowly looked to the side, only to find warm eyes staring back at you. He didn’t smile, but his eyes… They were never like this. “Pretty”, he murmured. “W-what-“, “I care for you, Y/N”, he interrupted you as his hand rested on your cheek. “Want to see you happy”, his thumb now softly grazed over your bottom lip. 

“I am-“, “You’re not”, he frowned, “Don’t think I don’t notice”. 

You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to seem weak, but … You never had this. Someone who cared for you, who wanted to see you happy. 

“Don’t”, he tried to sound as kind as possible. “Don’t cry”, he gently brushed a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry”, you softly sobbed. “Don’t be”, two hands now wrapped around your face, forcing you to look at him. “I’m not sorry either”. “Sorry? For what-“, his lips met yours before you could finish your sentence. 

Feitan wasn’t sure if you wanted this or if you felt the same. He never did something like this before, but it felt right. He could feel a warm sensation in his chest, butterflies in his stomach…

“F-fei?”. “Talk to me”, his eyes still closed, a hand resting on the back of your head. “W-what do you want?”. “You”, he immediately answered, “I want you”. 

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter two

close to home | chapter two

plot: the night takes a turn for the worse, Daryl is introduced and must decide to trust the reader, or to kill her.

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,651 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for reading!

Trying to sleep for the night was useless, though Tora’s soft snores comforted you. At least someone was sleeping. Sleep was far from you, your mind thinking off too much and your stomach aching for more food. You wouldn’t touch the jerky you found, at least not until morning. It would be a long seven-mile journey back. 

The thrift store was still dark, and the rain was still hitting it hard. The building shook every so often with thunder. But other than that, it was quiet. Still, you were antsy. There was an energy in the air as if something was going to happen, and you were just bidding your time until it did. 

A soft orange glow filled the room as you finished picking dirt out from underneath your nails with a butterfly knife. Your eyebrows furrowed together, and you looked around the room. For a second, you thought it was electricity, and people would come into the room chatting about their days, and you’d awaken from the nightmare. 

But that was silly. 

The bedding shuffled as you stood up, and Tora’s head perked up, eyes adjusting to the new light in the room. It was coming from outside. 

You grabbed your gun, switching off the safety and raising it to eye level as you approached the front doors. Rain was pouring down so heavily it would’ve been hard to see ten feet out the door, but the library on fire across the street lit up the street. 

“What the fuck-” You muttered. 

Movement across the street caught your eye, and you saw a few people running about. People. Not dead ones. 

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat and watched for another moment. Who were they? You’d been to this town dozens of times and had never seen another one. And now, suddenly, there were a few of them, just a hundred feet away. 

You grabbed the door handle and started to push the door open; unknown words on your lips when movement from down the road again caught your attention. Only it wasn’t alive, people. It was the dead ones. Hundreds of them. 

“Holy shit.” You said, backing away from the door. “We have to go now,” You said to Tora, who had just nestled back to sleep. You grabbed your bag quickly, threw it over your shoulders, and then scooped the cat in your arms. She meowed in protest for a second but settled quickly in your arms as you ran out of the thrift store. 

The rain hit hard, and Tora growled softly. You whispered apologies under your breath and started to run. Puddles of water splashed undertow, and your boots were soaked through within seconds. The bag was impossibly heavy and was only getting heavier with the rain. 

Thunder clapped again, and you stopped to look back. You couldn’t see the people running around anymore, but the dead were still there, the fire was taking down the building, and your heart ached at all the lost literature. But regardless, it wasn’t time to worry about that. 

You picked up your pace again, dodging the dead ones left and right. The fire seemed to be bringing them all out of the woods. You couldn’t tell the difference between rain and tears on your checks. 

The wind was picking up, and the air was full of smoke. It was getting harder to breathe, and the running didn’t help. But you could just barely make out the tree line. You could get Tora up a tree, follow her up there, and wait out the night. It was dangerous with the lightning, but so was the ground. 

Long shadows of trees cascaded on the forest ground, and they started to fade as you put more and more distance between you and the fire. Tora was meowing loudly, but you held on tight, not daring to lose her in the chaos. 

The path took you down a hill, and you tried to pinpoint where you were so you could get back to the campground, and find your way back to the lake. The dead ones were hot on your trail, and you couldn’t believe how quickly they appeared. You’d only seen the two this morning; now, there were hundreds. 

As you turned a bend, you slammed into something hard and fell to the ground. Tora escaped your grasp, and you heard the mechanical clicking. Your wet hair stuck to your face as you grabbed your gun and turned, ready to aim at the dead one. 

But your eyes didn’t meet the unforgiving frozen stare of death and instead met the top of a crossbow. 

***

forty-four minutes earlier

Daryl took a deep breath and leaned against the wet side of the building. The entire run had gone to shit when they stumbled on a herd a mile back. Luckily, they stumbled on the small town, with plenty of ways to get the herd off their backs. 

“We need to do something!” Rick yelled over the pouring rain. “We need to find something to distract them.” 

“‘aight,” Daryl cursed, redrawing his crossbow. “The walkers got us all cornered up. Where the hell is Glenn and Maggie?”

“I think I saw them go down the alley. They know how to handle themselves. They have to. We got to distract them.”

“This thunder is makin’ 'em go crazy!” Daryl yelled, “They’re all just spinnin’ ‘round in circles tryin’ to find us. We need to get ‘em all grouped up so we can get the hell outta here.” 

Rick looked around, the rain washing away the blood on his face. “Okay. Okay. There are a couple cars up ahead. Looks like this place fell early. There’s gotta be some gas in those tanks. Let’s light a fire.” 

No more words were needed, and the two took off, quickly siphoning gas into their empty water bottles. Thunder clapped overhead, and Daryl looked around. They had put a good distance between themselves and the walkers, but he didn’t feel safe. They’d be on them soon if they didn’t hurry.

Rick led Daryl to the closet building and laughed as he realized what it was. “I’ll knock over a few rows of books and spread the gasoline out. We don’t have much.” 

Daryl worked quickly and silently to shake the gasoline out around the room. When he’d returned, a pile of broken furniture and books were covered in gasoline. 

“Let’s light it up. We’ll make a breakthrough in the woods to return to the car. That’s where Glenn and Maggie would try to get to. If not, they’ll get to the prison on foot.” Rick said. 

Daryl nodded before grabbing a book, lighting it on fire, and then tossing it into the pile. It caught immediately, and Daryl and Rick ran from the building and into the back alley. Dozens of walkers were spread out, and the sight of the growing fire started to catch their attention. 

The archer followed Rick silently through the alley, clothes soaked through and dripping with water. Sweat, dirt, and blood ran down his face, and he kept wiping it clean as he ran. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Rick yelled. “Walkers!”

The street was covered in the undead. The fire bringing more of them out of the woods. Daryl glanced at Rick, and he nodded. It would be a fight. It was always a fight. 

But the walkers were coming in every direction, the thunder was so loud, and the rain so heavy that Daryl lost sight of RIck. His arms were coated in blood as he brought down body after body. And still, they kept coming. 

“Rick!” Daryl yelled, his voice drowned out in the rain. He huffed and turned the corner to a quieter street. In the distance, he saw someone running into the tree line. His eyes narrowed, and he dodged an impending walker. “Rick!” He called after him. 

Another half dozen walkers were down by the time Daryl reached the treeline. He glanced back at the town drowning in water and blood. He had to get to the car. Whoever survived would be in the car. They’d all be in the car. 

***

Your eyes narrowed at the person before you, and you clicked the trigger into place. You couldn’t catch your breath and knew there wasn’t time to. He would kill you, or the dead ones would. Your throat was dry despite the rain on your face and the drops sliding over your parted lips. 

“Where are my people?” The man asked, “Who are you?”

You stayed quiet, your eyes looking around. There were dead ones in the distance, and you could hear the moans over the rain. “I’m nobody,” You finally said, “I was in the thrift store, and I saw the fire and the dead ones. Figured it’s best to get out of there while I still could.” 

“How many people are with you?” He yelled. 

“It’s just me!” You yelled back, “It’s just me, asshole. And my cat, but you scared her off.” You glanced around again for the cat. 

“Huh?”

You dropped and swept your leg out in his second confusion, knocking him to the ground. The crossbow dropped, and you quickly kicked it away, raising your gun to the man’s forehead. He froze. 

You looked around quickly again; there were dozens of dead ones headed your way. You whistled that same three-note tune and heard rustling behind you. Your eyes didn’t leave the strangers. 

“There are dozens of them. Only two of us. We need each other if we want to see the sunrise tomorrow,” You shouted, thunder booming again. You dropped your gun and offered your other hand. “My name is (Y/N).”

[redbleedingrose]

The Last Time ~ Azriel x Reader

A/N: LOL!! Azriel fics have long been requested and I finally decided to stop ignoring y’all. I hope that you enjoy! As always, please leave a like, comment and reblog, they mean so much to me (like more than you could know and keeps me motivated to keep putting stuff out)! 

Warnings: Uhhh Porn. Some plot but mainly porn. Like 1.4k words of porn. So 18+ NSFW! 

The scarred digits that lace around your neck squeeze tighter, stealing away the gasp of pleasure that was already slipping from between your swollen lips, his husky whisper drifting into my ear like a honeyed song, “say my name Angel, let me hear it.”  A wave of humiliation floods your already flushed and sweating face, slipping down to your pulsing core as you shake your head in denial with pursed lips, your nails digging into the forearm of the shadowsinger that is forcing you to bounce up and down his cock. A smirk lilts his dark beautiful face, his pupils completely blown, rimmed with his hazel iris’ as he watches you through half lidded eyes rock your hips back and forth fervently, the sensation of his length grinding into your gummy walls has your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. 

You grit your teeth, clenching at your jaw, trying to hold back any moans or whines from escaping. You had given him the upper hand with the gasp, but you weren’t going to let him get anything else out of you. The spymaster’s shadows swirl around your meshed bodies, slithering around your waist, down your belly and down to your throbbing clit, hazily circling around it leaving their ice cold sensation against burning hot skin. His head tosses back into the headboard with a resounding thump, biting down on his plumped and reddening lips to keep a groan from erupting, planting his feet into the mattress, jack knifing into you, meeting each of your downward thrusts with his own in a torrid effort to get you to cum first. 

All of your sensations fade, honing into how the shadowsinger is making you feel in that moment. His tattooed, carved chest heaves under you with heavy breathes, enticing you to lean forward and leave a long hot lick along the path of his sternum that results in a hard buck into you, forcing the head of his cock right into your cervix. Hot, fast butterflies flutter in your stomach down to your core, coalescing into a tightening knot with each passing thrust. Your hips grind down onto his, the knot in you growing tighter, and tighter, and tighter with every millisecond. Claw marks are left on the Illyrian warrior's forearm when you pull away to clutch at his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself before you completely fall apart. But maybe that's what he wants. Maybe he wants you to fall apart. 

Maybe he wants to destroy you. 

You wouldn’t be surprised. And you would be damned if you weren’t going to bring him down with you. This little unofficial arrangement between you and the shadowsinger had started months ago when Eris, your ‘boss’ as you called him, had assigned you to work with the Night Court to gather any information on the alliance that tied Hybern and Beron in hopes of overthrowing the current leadership of Autumn Court. This meant working hand in hand with their Spymaster, Azriel, whom you hated with every drop in your high fae blood. You couldn’t stand the way he looked at you, the way he eyed you with utter distrust, as if you had done something horrible to him like kicking his innocent puppy.  

Hours and hours spent arguing over conflicting recounts of the partnership between the High lord of Autumn and Hybern, hours and hours spent retrieving documents from one another in private inns and hostels, hours and hours of screaming harsh insults at one another had devolved into this. It had devolved into roughly fucking one another, putting all your pent up disgust and hatred into one single means to an end: a devastating orgasm. Every time, every session you had, you or he would mutter the words, “this is the last time. It won’t happen again.” And each time, you both wholeheartedly believed it. But one way or another, you or he would fall back into the pit of lust, fall back into the utter loss of control that happened with each other. But, you would never let him get the upper hand over you. So you refused to make any sounds that would indicate the slightest hint of pleasure. You refused to say his name, even in your thoughts. 

And to hell with the Cauldron, did he try to break you. 

Your nails scrape down his chest leaving irritated marks that compels the side of your eye to twitch in a glint of pride, grinning at the shadowsinger with a sense of victory that when he will leave tonight, he will return to the Night court marked with his sins. The knot feels impossibly tight, nearly ready to fracture against the tension when the male leans forward, hand releasing its hold on your neck, sliding up to your jaw and yanking you forward by your face so that his breath brushes against your lips in peppery kisses, his fingers digging into the hollow of your cheeks forcing your mouth to open. Your eyes flicker back and forth between his, confusion racking your fogged mind, the uncomfortable sensation of your jaw being forced open has your bracing forward on your knees while his other hand thumbs your clit in hard presses and strokes. 

The knot within you shatters into a billion pieces when he lifts his mouth towards you, spitting into your gaping mouth before forcing it shut, biting down harshly onto your bottom lip, drawing droplets of blood that he licks away when he grates out, “swallow Angel.” His ink hair falls forward, draping over his eyes that watch your throat bob as you take in his spit before they squeeze shut with burnt pleasure, hot ropes of his cum shooting deep inside your pulsating cunt, absolutely flooding your hole so that a ring of your mixed cream gathers at the base of his cock. You can’t help falling forward into the crook of his neck in utter euphoria, biting down on the litters of scars and black tattoos that cover the broadness of his shoulders and biceps, down to his back, chest, and even his abdomen, trying to fight down any sound other than broken gasps. You wouldn’t ever allow him to know just how good he made you feel, just how much you craved these visits, just how many countless times you had fingered your aching cunt to the thought of him, whispering his name when you fell apart. You would never allow him to know. 

Never.

And he would never let you know the utter loss of control he felt around you. 

So, when you finally catch your breath, you flex your shaking thighs that hover over his lap, latching onto the wooden headboard to lift yourself off of him and roll out of the bed. He sits up in his place, his scarred fingers tracing the mark that you had left behind, lazily watching as you calmly pace through the room of the hostel hidden deep in the Winter mountains, his shadows following you, swirling around your ankles and shins as you search for your clothes that had been strewn about when the arguing with him had decayed into the hard fucking. You couldn’t help avoiding his stunning, hate-filled hazel eyes at all costs, knowing that one look would send you crawling back into bed so that he could climb on top of you and rut into you without any resolve once more. 

A horrid sense of fury ran through you for giving into the shadowsinger, along with a strike of pride when you discovered that tonight had meant he had given into you as well. Flinging your cloak over your shoulders as you toe on your goat leather boots, you slowly turn towards the doorway, sending a small glance in his direction. He hadn’t moved a single inch besides an arched eyebrow that was directed at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips, waiting for the words he would inevitably be hit with. With the sharpest of ice clinging to every word, you mutter loud enough so that he can hear from across the room, “This is the last time shadowsinger. It won’t happen again. Ever.” You reach over to snatch the folder of classified documents resting on the side table that were meant to be taken to Eris from Rhysand, letting the door slide open. You don’t turn back as you head down the stairs, rolling your eyes with a huff when you hear an arrogant, sarcasm laced tone call out from behind, “Sure it won’t, Angel.”

Part 2??? Maybe??? One day???

Masterlist

General taglist : @nyotamalfoy  @brekkershadowsinger @kennedy-brooke @fieldofdaisiies

[giasfolklore]

BESTFRIENDS TO LOVERS ( ghostface edition)

༘⋆ toji fushiguro (ghostface play) x fem! reader! (minors dni ‼️)

༘⋆ toji going from your bestfriend to your best person

༘⋆ WARNINGS : ghostface cosplaying, (use of names like sweetheart, my love, good girl, darling), mean sex, basement keeping, terror of toji, creampie, multiple orgasms, knife playing, mentions of killing, cheating, possessive behaviour, exhibitionism, tummy bulge, choking, slight daddy kink, breeding, marking, blowjob, toxic relationships.

༘⋆ no use of y/n

You and your boyfriend choso have been together for 5 years now, at first he treated you like his sweet little princess he still does but only when he’s horny or wants money to spend. You both met each in university while going for the same course choso loved you, he really did but the spark faded away so quickly that it was like in an blink of eye.

One night you were home alone as choso went to some party and didn’t even bother coming back soon, you tried calling him but his phone was on silent, as you were bored you decided to watch a movie because why not? as you took the remote and played the movie on your tv you were hungry too and you finally decided to make yourself some popcorn. Movies and Popcorn what could be a better combination than that.

You went to the kitchen and you came to one more conclusion that you’re craving something sweet so now you’re about to make some caramel popcorns. Yum right? anyway you take the popcorn you made just now and you add salt and then you start to make the caramel mixture starting with melted butter, light brown sugar, and as it melts into bubblish base you hear your line ringing.

It was 11 pm, no one usually calls you at that point of time so you anyhow picked up the call without looking at the number or whatever.

“ hello? ” you said.

“ hello darling ” came from the other line.

Huh? Who even is that?

“ um hello? do I know you? ” you said getting curious now.

“ you’ll find out sweetheart, what’s your favourite scary movie? ” says the other caller.

And there was it pure rage on your face as you’ve seen kids and teenagers cosplaying ghostface and playing killer and bullshitting around so you weren’t really scared of the other caller as you felt it’s just some teenager pulling a prank on you.

You said “ uh if I have to probably name it, it’s Scream, you really thought? I would fall for your stupid trick or treat pranks? If you want candy or whatever just pullover and the prank is pretty fucking stupid any sane person woul-

You were interrupted by the hard knocking on your door, you were kinda scared now but you were brave enough to finally decide to put an end to this bullshit.

When you opened the door you thought it’s gonna be a bunch of teenagers asking for candy so you went with some chocolates on your hand but as you opened the door you saw a very tall man with a very good physique standing at your doorstep with a very long sharp knife, you were very scared at that point and he pushed you to the back with full force and caressed your cheek with the cold knife you were trembling very fast, he could feel how scared you actually were.

Has he ever made you feel loved? Like you were his whole world?

What the fuck was he even talking about?

Has he ever told you how much he loves you enough for you to feel butterflies in your stomach?

You started getting muffled tears. “ aw man come on now. why are you even crying ” his voice changer stopped and it turned into the voice which you can recognise anywhere. “ T-toji? ”

“ah hehe, the one and only”

“W-why are you doi- you were interrupted with a cloth on your mouth and your eyes became droopy and fainted being unconscious.

You woke up in a dark place, where toji was sitting on a chair probably waiting for you to wake up. You were still tired and your eyes barely opened he came upto you with a creepy smile and said “ so my baby is finally up huh? hope you slept well my sweetheart. ” there was the man CHOSO hated with his whole heart but still continued being friends with him, there was the man who could have everything he wanted but YOU.

You and Toji always had the bestfriend kind of relationship you both never had to deal with any misunderstanding but, this time toji has never looked more serious before than now! He wasn’t trying to play with you, he was willing to change for you. He WANTED to change for you.

He still hated how CHOSO stole you from him, he did know choso was very hot but not better than him as a person never better !

His eyes scanned yours trying to find some fear or hatred for himself, but he couldn’t find any your eyes were too soft for him. His face got closer to yours almost touching your soft lips. You closed your eyes because you knew what was coming and that’s exactly what happened you freezed at the sudden motion, of his lips crashing into yours but later it adjusted as you melted in the kiss.

Sudden flashbacks overcome your body, about how different your life could’ve been if you gave Toji a chance back then. “ fucking hell.. I’ve - been living my life like a living hell trying to stop every damn person from getting closer to you. ”he stopped the kiss and looked at you softly “ would you really hate me if I kill your loving boyfriend choso? ” his other hand where he had his knife, dropped it and looked at you trying to calm you for an answer.

You feel like he wouldn’t do it, but if he can do this why wouldn’t he kill him? what reason does he have to hesitate? he doesn’t have anything to lose.

You slowly dodged the question, moving your head side to side. His face grew with a sad and almost a scary smile thanks to your answer. He started kissing you all over again, it was heavenly, hungrier, needier.

HE WANTED YOU

DESPERATELY

“ on your knees ” he said and you ah well you could never say no to him you shouldn’t like this but you weren’t normal either that day anyway he took back the knife it made your body tremble it even made your pussy wet with the cold sensation of the knife.

“ I knew you would be into freaky shit like this my love . Suck my dick . NOW ! ”

Toji watched you as you unbuckled his belt, his leather boots pushing up against your your little clothed cunt making you make muffled moans. “ you’re so cute my baby so eager to have daddy’s dick stuffed into your mouth, I bet Choso doesn’t know how to fuck your pretty pussy right. ”

The way he wasn’t scared to put his words had you weak on the knees already. The view of his thick cock hanging in front of your soft lips made you whimper a little. You wasted no time into taking him in your mouth.

“ holy fucking shit! it feels like me and you are meant to be my baby, the way you’re sucking on my cock right now is the best thing that can ever happen to a man alive. ” he said breathlessly.

Toji was mean as fuck he fucked your throat until your saliva was sliding down his balls. You could literally hear your phone ringing but you couldn’t care less, you were nothing but a dumb girl sucking his cock like you owned it. YES YOU DID.

“ don’t worry babe, tonight’s going to be the best night you’ve ever had, I’m going to fuck the soul out of you. ” his words made you so wet that you couldn’t even describe the feeling.

as you both got done he took his cock out and cummed all over your face. “ such a pretty girl and all for me, just me. ”

“ stand up sweetheart. ” following his instructions, you stood up from where you were sitting. He removed the black gloves he was wearing his naked hands now touching all over your body getting you undressed.

In a matter of minutes you were laying down on your bed (he locked you in the garage just to scare you), while Toji towers over you. Over your naked body. Your bare chest, your hands moved automatically to explore his body for the first time.

Ringing came from your phone but it was all done and forgotten in the hall room.

He gave your pussy a few hard pumps, craving the way the walls of your cunt. The chilly air sent goosebumps across your skin as your naked body became exposed to the empty apartment. Your walls clenched around him so tight that he thought that would stop the flow of his dick. He has already taken three orgasms out of you, playing for the fourth one.

As he saw your tummy performing a bulge of the way he was fucking you literally meant, he was so deep inside you. “ T-Toji-i, please slow d-down. ”

Your hands moved to try and grab at the black locks on his head but Toji was too quick as he snatched up your wrists and pinned them down to the table. The honeyed arousal dripped from his chin as your orgasm crashed into you without warning. The bed shook as his tongue sent tremors of white-hot pleasure throughout your body.

“ do you want choso to know how much of a whore his little princess is? ” Toji cocked his head, a vicious smirk playing on his lips.

“ are you there princess? or are you already cockdrunk? ” he rasped, tightening his hold on your hair. You shook your head, whining with pleading eyes staring up at him, hand going to grasp the arm that held your head up. Your eyes teared up because of his harsh grip.

“ fuck! would you look at that? the tummy bulge! I can feel choso doesn’t fuck you right because of how tight you are right now baby ” he’s fucking you senseless right now, one hand has a tight grip on your legs holding it up and the other is feeling the tummy bulge. “ you would look so pretty filled in with me, round and prettiest with another fushiguro inside of you, is that what you want my little princess? you want us to have a baby huh? trap me sweetheart so I can mark you mine from your stupid ass of a boyfriend. mhm? ”

-

the next day you woke up in your bed, feeling secured and warmer than the usual temperature. You picked your phone and checked the time it was 6.03 am until you realised who was hugging you; Toji. If it wasn’t for geto you’d have already been his. He was still sleeping, you turned back and looked at him and he looked so beautiful.

His pretty sharp face, his scar even looked pretty on his lips and his beautiful eyes, he’s calm. He looks so cute.

You didn’t know when you passed out while making love to each other, but you do remember how you lost feelings for choso kamo.

You got up from your bed to get yourself some water, but you were interrupted with a few knocks on your door. You almost jumped thanks to the view.

There he was, your boyfriend, ah hell no. EX BOYFRIEND…. CHOSO. He had his message box opened in his phone and his eyes were clearly red.

“ um, choso? ”

“ SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU LITTLE WHORE! so it all turned out to be true huh? ” he signalled his finger towards your hickeys on your soft neck which were clearly visible.

You then understood exactly what he was talking about, but you decided to play dumb since you knew he has no proof. “ what are you talking about? ”

“ WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT?? ” he questioned you again he couldn’t believe you were still playing dumb. “ maybe ask your brand new boyfriend about it. ” he gave you the phone there were many messages of him making you his and you both doing it today no matter what. You look back at choso trying to come up with an explanation, but you’re interrupted by Toji.

“ aw come on, choso we all know you have some bitches waiting for you, but you treated my princess as one. ”

“ you fucking bit- ” he tried to attack you.

“ ah- ah stay right there, don’t even think about touching her. ” he came in front of you with a proud smirk showing “ remember what I told you the last time? ” he stepped closer to him. “ if killing you- means getting closer to her I wouldn’t blink twice. ” he knew you were his now and no one could stop that from happening.

He chuckled and patted on his shoulder saying “ i told you, she belongs to me if I saw you here one more time you’ll be good as dead. ”

He said those last words and slapped the door on his face without any emotion and turned to you with a smile and said “ so my baby, what do you want for breakfast today? come on I’ll make you something delicious. ” you ran to him and gave him an unexpected kiss, he kissed you back with love and said “ I love you, I always have and I always will. ” you smiled at his words and gave him a peck on the lips.

[spaceshipellie]

hii how are you! i just saw your tlou x ethal cain event and im so excited!!

i wanna request an ellie x reader fluff/angst? tlou era with the lyrics : is there someone who has your heart, that keeps you gone, away from me?

where reader sees that ellie starts to hang around with dina more and less with you, feels insecure and thats when ellie notices that there's something off abt r and decides to confront r, which leads to a confession from r .. 💗 tysm!

“is there someone who has your heart, that keeps you gone, away from me?”

pairing: ellie x reader

summary/warnings: tlou au, jealous reader, pining, confessing feelings, fluff

hi sweet, i’m good thanks hope you’re okay too!

you and ellie had clicked pretty instantly when you joined the commune and had been best friends ever since. you shared everything together and knew each other like the back of your hand, which is why it hurt so much when all of a sudden she seemed to be spending less time with you and more time with dina.

you loved dina, of course you did, she was your friend too. but it twisted a knife in you every time you saw her with ellie, laughing and talking like you used to. dina was also naturally a very affectionate person meaning she was always hugging ellie or touching her arm and you could never tell if it was just the way dina was or if there was something going on between them.

even if it was the latter you knew you shouldn’t be jealous. if ellie had found happiness you wanted that for her, especially after her messy relationship with cat. but if she had, why hadn’t she told you? and if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted to be the one ellie fell for.

your feelings for your best friend had snuck up on you. one day you were meeting up with her and upon seeing her had this aching urge to kiss her, take her hand, tell her how you felt. maybe these feelings had been brewing silently behind the scenes for a while but it felt like it had hit you like a ton of bricks.

that was about a month ago and you had made an effort to keep it to yourself and not risk ruining anything. but maybe you had by mistake? why else would she be acting distant from you. it’s not like you never hung out anymore but the tension had changed slightly. in fact you were having a movie night with her tonight at your place. oh yeah, and with dina. you’d considered cancelling but curiosity to see what they’d be like around each other was eating you alive. you had to see even if it hurt.

the tv was the only thing glowing in the dark room as you sat on the couch, ellie in between you and dina. all three of you had your legs stretched out resting on the coffee table. you felt insane for micro-analysing the situation. was ellie sat closer to you or dina? did she lean into her more when she laughed at something? ellie’s foot suddenly knocked yours as she shifted their position.

“sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

christ, i’m pathetic, you thought as that accidental foot tap caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. you continued watching the movie with your arms folded, occasionally reaching over to grab some of the snacks. suddenly the two of them burst out laughing at something in the movie that you must have missed and you looked over to see dina’s head on ellie’s shoulder and ellie looking down at her briefly before looking back at the screen, a huge humorous grin across her face. you couldn’t help the sigh that left you as you excused yourself to the bathroom. you didn’t see how ellie’s eyes followed you out of the room, her grin fading.

“um, i’ll be right back,” ellie mumbled, brushing crumbs off her hoodie as she stood up.

you jumped when you opened the bathroom door to leave and found her standing there. you prayed she hadn’t been there long otherwise she might have heard the pep talk you’d actually been doing in there.

“shit, you scared me.”

“sorry.”

assuming she was just wanting to use the bathroom you awkwardly smiled and brushed past her.

“wait.”

you stopped and turned to look at the careful look she had in her eyes.

“did i do something?”

“what do you mean?”

“well, i don’t know i feel like you’ve been acting weird around me lately.”

you wanted to scoff.

“i haven’t been acting weird.”

“oh come on,” she looked at you, expecting you to correct yourself.

“what? i haven’t.”

“you just seem like i’ve pissed you off or something.”

you sighed and paused before speaking. “well, i thought you were acting weird around me and i don’t know what i’ve done.”

“me? you haven’t done anything.”

“then why is there this distant tension thing happening between us? what’s changed!?”

her expression changed and she looked like she’d been caught or something.

“we’re not distant.”

“ellie… we used to talk about everything and now i feel like you spend more time with dina than me.” you immediately regretted saying it.

“am i not supposed to hang out with dina? i thought you were friends.”

“we are and you can, i didn’t mean that i meant, fuck. i just meant it feels like you’re pulling away from me but if you like her or something then i’m sorry for bringing it u–“

“woah woah, i don’t like her? what gave you that idea? and why…” her voice trailed off.

you froze.

“why would you care if i did?”

“i wouldn’t,” you shot out a bit too quickly.

“tell me.”

“no, it’s nothing! forget i said anything.”

“i know when you’re lying,” she said, taking a step towards you.

you sighed. “fine. i like you, ellie. as in more than a friend.”

the corners of her mouth twitched upwards but she cleared her throat to compose herself.

“why didn’t you tell me before?”

“it’s not an easy thing to confess,” you said, starting to feel like an idiot. a smile broke out on her lips.

“what?” you prodded, scowling slightly.

“i’m glad you told me.”

“okay…”

“i like you too.” your knee buckled a little.

“what?”

“i like you.”

“then why the fuck did you stop talking to me?!” her face switched back to panic for a split second before she grabbed your hands.

“i freaked out, i’m sorry. i wasn’t thinking. but i’m not fucking with you, i swear.”

you studied her face. you caught her eyes sneak a glance at your lips briefly.

“okay, i believe you.”

her freckled cheeks blushed and her eyes squinted as she smiled.

“so… can i kiss you?” she whispered.

“yes,” you whispered back.

she softly lifted your chin and placed a kiss on your lips whilst your hands found her waist.

“what’s taking so lo– oh fucking finally!” dina’s laugh snapped you two apart and you covered your mouth with your hand, slightly embarrassed at getting caught.

“as happy as i am for you both, you’re missing the best part of the movie. hurry up.”

dina disappeared back into the living room and you and ellie looked at each other. you had nothing to worry about after all.

[ruewrote]

𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑥 ℎ𝑖𝑚.

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language, teasing GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: thelema by ofdream WORD COUNT: 722

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you knew rafe long before he got hooked on coke. you were sarah's childhood best friend.

she stuck up for you when you were getting picked on by two boys in the early stages of school, it didn't help that you were new. she offered you a hand in helping get the sand that was currently in your hair out, you quietly agreed.

that was the start of your friendship, you did practically everything together. that leads all the way up to now where you were still joined at the hip. your infatuation with her brother didn't show any signs of settling down soon either, but she didn't need to know that.

growing up rafe got into a lot of fights, you personally didn't know what to think of any of it until the cuts and bruises continually got worse, unattended.

it was late on saturday, you and sarah had a sleepover at her house, pillow fights and the mention of boys was spoken of. you got into tons of escapades that night, only now to be settled under a large blanket, it covering both you and her, she was long asleep.

but you couldn't. no particular reason why, you just couldn't.

the big house was silent other than the tv that was quietly playing in the background, deciding to get a glass of water from the kitchen, not realizing how thirsty you were from eating so much sweet stuff.

as you grabbed a glass from the cabinet, the sound of someone fumbling to get their key in the front door made your heart falter, looking around the kitchen for something to protect yourself with, the first thing you spotted was the wooden knife block.

grasping the biggest knife in your hand, you slowly started to make your way to the doorframe, peeking around it when the door finally opened to be met with rafe.

a deep sigh of relief left your lips, leaning your head back before walking out from your hiding place.

"what the fuck rafe? it's like-," looking over to the clock on the wall that read that it was one in the morning.

"really late yeeaaah i know..." that's when he leaned up against the wall leading to the stairs, beginning to take off his boots, a specific scene on the tv displayed a bright light that reached his bloodied face.

gasping, you placed the knife on the counter and then ran over to examine his face, he tried to dismiss you until he felt your hands softly cup his face.

"what happened- actually never mind let's just go and get you sorted out first." the whole way to the bathroom he downplayed how bad his injuries were, even though he was in excruciating pain.

after all the quiet back and forth you finally got him to give in and let you look after his cuts. rafe was sitting on the counter next to the sink, you stood in between his legs, having to slightly stand on your tiptoes as you swiped the last antiseptic cotton bud across the bridge of his nose.

his jaw clenched tightly, making it more pronounced. you were just trying to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

"you really should be more careful, you know." you muttered, turning away from him, and throwing the used cleaning supplies into the bin.

"you worried about me, sweetheart?" you froze slightly as you faced him. trying so hard not to show any reaction to what was just said.

"nope, ahem. just saves me from ya know having to do all this again..." gesturing to the dressing on his face, your words soon fading when you saw the way that rafe looking down at you, so very deep into your eyes, almost...teasing?

a small mhm was heard from him as the staring continued, and your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips. "well! i better head back downstairs, don't want your sister to wake up and me not be...there? bye!" you unsuccessfully backed out of the room, bumping into the wall before scrambling down the stairs.

once getting there, back under the blanket with sarah. you laid your head down squeezing your eyes shut and let out a breath that you didn't know that you were holding onto.

you knew from that moment on you were officially fucked.

© ruewrote.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Blessed Heir of the Abyss (Abyssal Prince Childe x Reader) Part 5

Synopsis: After centuries of conflict, Teyvat and the Abyss are attempting to make peace with one another. To solidify new alliances and let go of past grudges, the Abyssal Prince Tartaglia will choose a spouse from the people above to rule over the Abyss with him.

That spouse happens to be you, an ordinary, Visionless citizen of Liyue.

Chapter Four: Of Stone and Scales

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Warnings: Descriptions of illness and pain, allusions to crying and fevers, coughing, SLOW BURN

~ * ~ “What a conundrum this is…” Through the haze and smoke of your fever comes a gentle press against your forehead, the touch of soft and delicate hands ghosting over your skin like a butterfly’s wings. They’re cold- too cold, at first, and you flinch away- but the chill turns soothing against the heat of your sickness, and you let out an instinctive sigh of relief as the neverending pain recedes, even just slightly. The same careful touch holds the back of your head and lifts it upwards, prompting you to sip from a small ceramic bowl. You comply without a thought, barely tasting the sharp bitterness of the liquid as it slides down your throat, and those wonderfully gentle hands settle your head back down onto a plush pillow before pulling away. Your brow furrows as panic rises in your chest, wanting desperately to reach for and take hold of this singular moment of comfort, to bask in its sunshine forever. Please, stay. “Honestly, what were they thinking, bringing a mortal from Teyvat to the Abyss? The elemental whiplash…” A steady voice cuts through your distress like a knife, and the knot in your stomach unravels. Just barely you can place the sound of footsteps on wood, delicate clinks of glass and pottery, and dried leaves being crushed together. “…It’s enough to make an Adeptus seriously ill, much less a human.” In the sludge of your consciousness you open your mouth to speak, only to fail and let out a few awful, wracking coughs. Fail… yes. That’s all you seem to do now. The murmurings pause, soft taps of shoes growing a bit louder, and a cool hand rests on your arm, now speaking directly to you, “Rest, my friend… you’ll need your strength.” They squeeze your arm; once, twice, and what little vision you have fades as you drift down into a murky ocean of silence. A child laughs, her swing creaking, and a tiny green flower blooms from your fingertips. Everything blurs together as you return to nothingness. It’s the light that you sense first, shining through your closed eyes and filling the void with colors. You groan, shifting and pulling the covers over your ears in an earnest attempt to snatch a few more minutes of sleep, the bed cushioning your sore, aching joints. But the light merely shines brighter, birds twittering and giggling at your plight, and with a hiss of annoyance you relent to their joyous whims. Your eyes crack open and stare into the morning Harbor sun. With a gasp you fling yourself into a sitting position, only to double over as you cough and hack, tears springing to your eyes from the force, breath coming out as sharp wheezes. “Ah, you’re awake- Oh dear.” Someone hurries into the room to sit beside you, pressing a hand to your back and rubbing it up and down. “Let it out, my friend, you’ll feel much better afterwards.”

You take the advice in stride, coughing and coughing until your head spins and your shoulders shake and you’re absolutely sure that you’re going to faint- but you don’t, and slowly the coughs fade away until you can breathe, gratefully inhaling a lungful of air. “There… how do you feel?” You turn and blink in surprise for what seems like the hundredth time this week, gaze landing on a familiar, green-haired figure. “D… Dr. Baizhu?” His snakeish eyes shine with delight, golden and amber and fire-colored, “Ah, you remember me! Good, that means your mental faculties are intact, at the very least.” “How couldn’t I?” You let out a laugh, hoarse but happy. “You’re the best pharmacist in Liyue! Zhongli talks about you all the time- he always recommends your herbal remedies if I have a sore throat.” Baizhu chuckles quietly, “He does, does he? Well, I certainly won’t disagree with him on that.” The jewels hanging from his glasses glimmer, and you have to stifle the urge to reach out and bat at them like a cat. There’s a squeaky yawn from a table across the room, and Baizhu glances towards the sound with a smile, “Ah, Changsheng.” He walks to the table, picking up a scaly white bundle in his arms. “I don’t think you two have met. This is Changsheng, my treasured companion- Changsheng, say hello to our guest.” The sleepy little snake raises her head, and you give her a small, hesitant wave. “Ah,” You jump slightly at her voice, her tongue flicking towards your hand. “This one is sick, aren’t they?” Baizhu nods, eyes darkening, “Yes, they are.” He sits beside you again, Changsheng slithering up to his shoulders and peering at you curiously. “Your mind seems to be undamaged, but…” he sighs. “…I am uncertain about the rest of you.” You stiffen, fingers weakly curling into your blanket, “Dr. Baizhu… What exactly happened to me? Why am I in Liyue? And why-” You’re abruptly cut off by a cough, and Baizhu hurriedly pats your back. 

“The short story is that the energy and atmosphere of the Abyss caused you to fall ill,” he explains carefully. “Mortals of Teyvat and the Abyss do not mix- it’s an entirely foreign land to us, and the sudden change between above and below was too much for your body.” Baizhu’s expression turns grim, “The stress of your particular situation also did nothing to help.” “Oh,” You swallow thickly, your throat like sandpaper, then straighten your back with some effort. “What’s the cure, doctor?” “Rest, mostly. Preferably somewhere familiar and nonthreatening.” Baizhu smiles, a small pair of fangs peeking over his lips. “And please, call me Baizhu.” He sighs, quietly, “You’re quite lucky that you were only down there for a few days, my dear. Give it a week, and I likely wouldn’t have been able to save you.” You glance up curiously, “That reminds me, er- how did I get back to Liyue, exactly? Did someone have to drag my unconscious body up here?” “Ah, well-” “Your Highness!” The door bursts open, and Enjou ducks his head to float into the room. “Are you alright?! I apologize for not coming to your aid sooner, I fell asleep.” “Enjou?!” Your mouth hangs open in shock, then you burst into laughter that quickly devolves into coughing. “You- ahem- you brought me here?” “That he did.” Baizhu nods, holding you as you hack out a lung. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to see an Abyss Lector at my door, especially not at 1 AM.” “I am sorry about that.” Enjou bows his head. “It was an urgent matter, doctor.” “My dear sir, there’s no need to apologize! I’m very glad you got here when you did.” Enjou nods, hovering beside Baizhu, a bit awkward and out of place. He’s still wearing his glasses, you notice, and take a few quick glances between the Lector and the pharmacist. They almost mirror each other, in a way, with their glasses and elegance and worry for you.

“So, when do you think I can take them back to the Abyss?” Enjou breaks the silence after a few moments, and Changsheng lets out a low hiss. Baizhu clicks his tongue and shakes his head, gently stroking Changsheng’s scales, “Not for a while, I’m afraid. This whole situation is, frankly, a mess.” He gives Enjou a stern look over the top of his glasses. “They will need at least a couple of weeks to recuperate, and no less.” The Lector nods silently, his warm glow filling the room, “I will… see what I can do. The others of the Court are not going to like this.” “Enjou,” your voice is soft and scratchy. “I don’t want to die.” His tear-shaped eyes gleam kindly, and he delicately pats your shoulder with his claws, “You won’t, I’ll make sure of it. I’ll talk to the other members of the Court- they might be old fools, but they’re not entirely unreasonable.” You scoff, rolling your eyes, “I’ll agree with the old fool part.” Suddenly there’s a few quick knocks on the pharmacy door, and Baizhu tilts his head over his shoulder, “Ah, I might know who that is…” His quiet footsteps trail away, leaving you and Enjou in the bright, sunlit room, and you stare at the beams of light filtering through the windows. You’ve forgotten how beautiful it is, to see the dust float in the sun, casting patterns onto the floor, the comfort of being home warming your aching bones. The room smells of sweet flowers and bitter herbs and mint, and your eyes slide shut as you inhale, just barely able to catch the scent of rain and lilies from outside, splashes of bright colors dancing and swirling about. Familiarity washes over you, and you smile. “I should apologize for earlier,” Enjou’s voice pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him curiously. “I called you “Your Highness” in my panic over your state. I am sorry.” The Lector bows to you deeply as he speaks, somehow making himself seem smaller despite being twice your height. “Oh, it’s okay! To be honest, I was too busy choking to notice.” You smile tiredly. “Thank you… thank you for remembering, though. And for bringing me here. And for being nice to me.” Your thoughts spill from your mouth, one by one, a swift current rushing down a river.

“But of course! It is my honor to assist you, truly.” Enjou’s aura flares a bit brighter at your words. “And if it is of any help, I also apologize for my colleagues’ behavior so far. Including the Prince’s.” His voice lowers to a hiss. “He despises this as much as you do, but that is no excuse to treat you so poorly.” You feel your cheeks grow warm- warmer than they already are- and quickly cast your gaze to the blanket, thoughts tangled and muddled together, “Thanks, Enjou.” is all you can mumble, the thought of Tartaglia sending a fresh stab of fear and anger into your heart, your fists tightening around the fabric of your covers. “My dear,” Baizhu calls from the hallway, poking his head in with a satisfied smile, and the harsh fire in your chest dies down to an ember. “You have visitors.” As soon as he speaks a brown and crimson blur rushes towards you, dashing past Enjou and leaping onto your bed, “YOU NINCOMPOOP!!!” Hu Tao throws her familiar arms around you, already bawling her eyes out. “The first time I let you go somewhere without me and you almost end up dead! I may be a funeral parlor director, but your funeral isn't one I want to plan anytime soon!” Her grip tightens as she sobs into your shoulder, signature hat tumbling to the ground. “I didn’t exactly plan it!” You gasp through her stifling squeezes. “It just sort of… happened.” Your own hug feels weak and frail in comparison to hers, even more so than usual, and Hu Tao slaps her hands onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “That is no excuse! Swear to me that you won’t die! Promise! Pinkie promise!” “Okay, okay! I promise!” Your head spins as she abruptly stops shaking you to look you right in the eyes, her fiery pupils filled with flowers and tears. “Good! And you better keep that promise, or else I won’t have anyone to sample my cooking or watch me destroy Xingqiu in poetry!” Hu Tao grins at you, but her eyes are dead serious, and you gulp nervously and nod. “And YOU!” Her head snaps towards Enjou. “You’re one of those creeps that took my best friend away! Why, I ought to lock you in a coffin and-” “Hu Tao!” You grab her arm, half coughing and half giggling. “He’s a friend, too, I swear!”

“Really?” She observes Enjou up and down, from the tips of his crown-like horns to his feet hovering off the ground. “Hmph, if you say so… but I’m keeping an eye on you!” Enjou raises his hands helplessly as she glares, glancing from you to Hu Tao and back again pleadingly, and you muffle a snicker. “She’s not the only one,” A deep, smooth voice emits from the doorway and you perk up, a wide smile spreading across your face as you meet Zhongli’s gaze, his presence casting a blanket of calm serenity over the room. “I will also be watching you closely, Lector.” Enjou straightens his back and bows, “Ah, hello Mor-” “Zhongli. Just Zhongli.” The man in question strides over, sitting in a chair by your bedside, long legs elegantly crossed. “I’m glad to see you are alright, little one,” Zhongli murmurs. “Well, mostly alright.” “It’s nice to see you too, Zhongli,” you whisper, and his gloved hands brush over yours to hold them firmly, heavy and comforting like the stones of Liyue Harbor. The corners of his lips are just barely turned up, but his draconic eyes glitter with warmth- for a moment, he almost appears tearful, but it quickly settles into pride and relief. “Gah, quit hogging, old man!” Hu Tao quickly latches onto your other arm, plopping her chin onto your shoulder with a pout. “You’ll have plenty of time to catch up with them while I’m busy helping our clients!” “He will?” You crane your head towards Hu Tao, blinking in confusion. “Of course, silly-billy! Baizhu says that you have to stay and recover for at least a few weeks- right, doc?” She glances up as the bespectacled pharmacist moves to stand beside Zhongli, and both he and Changsheng nod. “It’d be best for your health, my dear.” “Oh,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling lighter than air. “That’s good, then.” Like the flick of a switch you fall back into a familiar routine, Hu Tao launching into a detailed play-by-play of what you missed while you were withering away in the Abyss, including her rap battle with Xingqiu and Captain Beidou taking everyone out for a joyride on the Alcor- not that it was very joyful without you, she insists. You bite your tongue to stifle a laugh when she goes off on a tangent about how Yanfei dropped her enormous law book on her foot when she received news of your departure- “Nothing broke, but it sure felt like something did!”- and Zhongli lets out a low chuckle at the funeral parlor director’s antics, a hand on your back in case you start coughing again. At some point Enjou tilts his head and excuses himself, bowing once to you and once more to the rest of the room before floating away like crackling fire.

Hu Tao sticks her tongue out as he leaves, and you flick her on the forehead, movements still clumsy from sickness. “Oh, and you have to come to Wuwang Hill with me and Chongyun! I’ve heard that there are some departed souls still hanging around, so I want to-” “Director,” Zhongli’s calming voice breaks through her chatter. “It may be best to wait until they’re feeling a little bit better.” You nod sheepishly, “Sorry, Hu Tao. I don’t think I could make it to the Harbor entrance right now, much less Wuwang Hill.” “Aww.” Hu Tao looks sulky, tugging at the ends of her long pigtails. “But the city’s sooo boring! I’m sure we can work something out-” “Excuse me.” Enjou hurries back into the room, and Hu Tao puffs out her cheeks, annoyed at being interrupted again. “I know this is most likely a bad time, but…” The Lector hesitates, and you frown in concern. “But what, Enjou?” He sighs and meets your gaze, reluctant and apologetic, “His Highness is here. He wishes to speak with his spouse.”

[thepinkdreamganjaqueen]

Subway Obsessions FemReader's POV ch1

Arthur Fleck x Fem!Reader POV 

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: From Fem Readers POV. It's just another night on the subway on your way to work. Something feels different about today, but you can't put a pin in it. Perhaps it was anxiety? But you felt excited, but certainly not for work anyway, so what caused this rush of intense feelings? He's watched you before, seen you many a night riding the subway alone, you’ve felt his gaze before. Is tonight the night he approaches you? 

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, swearing, stalking, obsession, touch starved, mentions of violence, mentions of mental health struggles, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Beginning to a series? Who knows. May add things later. Super hyper fixated, so expect more. First fic, btw! Something I've been mulling around with for a while. There are two versions I worked on for this, both POV’s, same storyline, so read both! Send ideas, edits, etc. my way!! And be nice please. Cheers! Enjoyyy! The first chapter is mostly fluff/ descriptive plot building.

Word Count: 3.4k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions 

CHAPTER 1: Chance Meeting 

You woke up early today. Early is relative for you. You work graveyard shifts, so 8 pm is early when your shift starts at midnight. You propped yourself on your elbows, leaning over to disengage your alarm on the nightstand before it went off, the prior night's dream fleeting in your mind. You race to try and remember, but it was nearly gone. Only shrouded images of a man watching you from a distance. It didn’t feel like a nightmare, though. In fact, you woke up heated and breathy, but by now, the images had completely faded. Fortunately, today, for whatever reason, you felt like you had energy. Perhaps it was the raunchy dream you had tried to remember. Either way, once your eyes opened for the night, there was no turning back. Most days, you were late for work as the buses in Gotham were entirely unreliable. So up out of bed you hopped, feeling a sense of urgency but in no rush to arrive to work. An odd feeling shifted inside of you, a mix of anxiety and excitement. Riding the subway this late at night was always dangerous, always a risk. The city has gotten darker as of late, more cruel, more unforgiving. You saw this every night on your 2-hour trek to work. You recently began toting around mace and a knife due to being randomly attacked twice now and being followed to work by someone you couldn't see, but you knew they were there. Every time, there is no security, and every time, there are no cops. Sometimes, you dreaded the possibilities, but tonight was different. You couldn't quite find the feeling and name it, but you felt the heat rise in your cheeks as you pondered the possibilities.  

You had your work outfit already planned and set out. All you had to do was shower, fix your hair, and do your makeup. Most nights, you walked out of the house with little makeup on and a comfortable outfit because most nights you were running late. Tonight was different, though; you woke up early and had time to get ready. You throw your planned outfit to the side, a loose fitted tee and joggers and opted for a pair of skinny jeans, a black fitted top, and a cropped pink velour sweater adorned with red hearts you hadn’t gotten to wear yet, why not tonight? You thought. You chose a black winged liner; some highlight on your high cheekbones and tip of the nose. You liberally smoothed glittered lotion onto your slender arms and décolletage. You opted for a nice pair of fuzzy fur black boots and a pair of rose earrings and a colorful beaded choker to pull it all together. You tossed your hair up in a half up half down style and secured it with a pink butterfly clip. You looked on in the mirror approvingly, appreciating how the skinny jeans carved out your curvy figure and how your cropped sweater drew attention to your large breasts. You felt like feminine rage, like a protest to the male gaze. Maybe I want to be seen tonight, you thought feverishly. Maybe I want someone to just take me and break me. Your own thoughts making you blush. Just thoughts you wantonly reassured yourself. You reach for your favorite perfume. A pheromone oil that smells like a sexy watermelon. Fruity yet sensual. You've been obsessed and wearing it every day. You dot some on your wrists and behind your ears along your neck. You begin to gather your things. Backpack, check, purse, check. Phone, headphones, etc. etc. check check check. After you were sure you had all of your necessities, you checked the time and headed out the door. 

The bus ride to the subway was uneventful and only took 10 minutes from your place to the station. The bus was early tonight leaving you having to wait at the subway station for another 25 minutes. Not too bad, although it was a bit cold tonight. After pressing your pass to the reader and heading down on the escalators you observed the desolate station. Florescent lights buzzed and flickered above you, the wind from the tunnel giving you a chill as it whipped past your face like a cold slap. You could feel that heat again rising in your cheeks. There was no one around, so you found a bench towards the end of the station. This is where the last subway car will stop, and you can start there and go through and pick one that was suitable enough to tolerate. You sat down to begin your wait. Glancing around every so often. Not a soul in sight. It was eerie. More often than not, you are a frayed string already unraveled with fear, anxiety, and worry. You mask it well; you would never want a potential predator to see you as prey, so you put on a hard exterior as a front. Hoping you seem unapproachable, that no one sees through your bluff.

The train approaches, you, in a flustered manor, you flail to gather your things. Just an all-around bag lady you think to yourself. So many things to carry. You often worried about people stealing them off you, ripping your laptop bag from you, your purse, your phone. You gulped back the worrisome thoughts and proceeded past the dingy grey steel doors that slid open like a jail cell.

Upon entering the train, your first observations are unordinary. Typical subway. Dark, flickering lights, shady characters, dirty surroundings, graffiti, and unidentifiable smells. You scan the seats, hoping for one in the back. One particular graffiti tag amongst the many scrawled out across the seats walls and ceiling catches your eye. "Cumsok" you can't help but blurt out and chuckle to yourself. Riding the train sure can have its quirks and charms, you think, maybe tonight won't be so bad. Air hisses as the door's close inward behind you and the air brakes release. The train moves forward at a jerking motion. You stagger to keep your footing and proceed to the front of the train car, hoping not to fall. You were klutzy and stumbled through life most days. You didn’t want to trip and end up with your face in a pole like that one time, how embarrassing that had been.  

Passing seats and flickering fluorescent lights above, you note that the train has a thick atmosphere tonight. The air from the doors whipped past once again as the train began its descending route onward. Your hair was blown in your face. You maneuver your head in such a way as to shake it off of your face. Your hands were full. This car is fine, you think, and pretty empty. I'll just stick to this one, I doubt the others are as forgiving. As you make your way back to the seats you see some kind of spill across several seats, it looked wet and sticky and sprawled across several seats leaking to the floor where it shifted as the train car changed speeds and direction. Not wanting to find out what it is, you turn to the section of seats just before the back by the door. As if reading your thoughts, a cheerful voice bellows in front of you.  

"This one's fine." You look up to see a gentleman sitting on one of the bench seats with his head turned towards you, looking back. You see his arm extending out, gesturing to the row of side seats in front of him. How did I not see him? You thought? I must've walked right past him. You were a bit shocked but also felt a sense of guilt or maybe sadness that you hadn’t noticed him before. He was striking, your eyes drawn immediately to his smile. "I don't know what that is back there but these are not so bad" he says with a tilt of his head to you and a grin on his face, that smile, you thought, he’s beautiful. His voice sounds genuine, soft, perhaps alluring even. The thought went as fast as it came. "Oh, thank you!" You found yourself sliding into the seat he had gestured to. A mere seat away from a stranger on an empty train car, yet you felt drawn to him. It was very unlike you as you typically avoided people at all costs. There were just too many fuck-asses in Gotham to think one stranger would be any different. But he was, wasn't he? He looked so innocent and sheepish. Had you seen him before? You think so, perhaps in passing? You wondered if he rides this particular subway often, not knowing you were already thinking about running into him again. He was a breath of fresh air in a polluted world.  

You placed your bags down on the seat next to you on the side furthest away from him leaving space between you two, almost tripping over your feet as you did. Does he want to mug you? Is he just playing nice? You haven't seen that yet but who knows?  Negative thoughts start to brim, you held a healthy skepticism but your confidence wavers as your body betrays your mind. You shoot a quick look over at him, taking in his image, internalizing it. He sat so confidently. His towering frame. One leg crossed over the other and an arm laid out on the head of the chair next to him. He looked so rigid, yet so pliable. Stoic yet shy. He was wearing a beige jacket. A brown knit sweater paired with a white button-down shirt underneath that clung loosely to his chest and hung over his shoulders, along with brown slacks. Something about him made your stomach flip and breath slow. He looked sanguine, unmovable, a force to be reckoned with. His frail yet tall and skinny stature was stoic. Hard with a gentleness you just couldn't define or put into words.  

He looked over, and his eyes caught your gaze. You quickly looked away, unsure of what you were or weren't truly willing to see, not ready. You caught a glimpse of his eyes, a mossy green under a hood of dark brown locks that shifted and swayed ever so slightly with the movements of the train car. He was so handsome, you thought. His smile beamed at you, making your chest rise and fall quicker than normal, your breath caught in your throat. Maybe it was his long hair. You've always loved men with longer hair. An intrusive thought emerged, validating your attraction for longer hair. That’s because you love the feeling of pulling it, of hearing them whimper in ecstasy! You thought to yourself. You don't disagree, but you shoo the thought away regardless, trying to hold your composure. Again, you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and the hairs on your arms, and legs begin to raise, you shiver and cross your legs to try and bring warmth closer to you and quell the sensation you began to feel from your core. This man had a physical power over you. You couldn't begin to understand. You found yourself slyly scooting closer, trying not to be noticed. 

Minutes go by, it seems like hours. Every time the doors on the subway open next to you, a breeze billows through and blows your hair off of your shoulders. Thinking nothing of it, you brush it all to one side with a single push. A strand of hair falls in front of your face tickling your chin and cheek. While brushing the strand behind your ear you catch another glimpse of the kind man in the seats next to you. He is staring at you! Eyes dark, longing and full of want. Fully engaged, no, enamored by your every movement looking on with a curious but balmy gaze. You pretend you didn't see. But something is taking over you, your mind starts racing and you can't control your thoughts. Him looking at you made you feel safe. But it also awakened a primal urge inside you, a lust only reminding you of your earlier thoughts. It made you only want him more.  

You could feel his penetrating gaze as his eyes hungrily roamed your body. You could feel a throbbing sensation now emanating from your core. Normally, having a male stare at you on the train would cause concern, and panic would ensue. This was not that feeling. You felt a rush, a tingle in your extremities. Head spinning, fighting against itself and its better instincts. All you can think is, who is this man, this kind man all alone on the train? And why did I find him so captivating? Why do I find myself unable to think, let alone move within his presence? Why do I feel drawn to him? Like some electrical current only intensified by the space between us. What would happen if you got closer? You quickly harden and think this must be crazy. A man as confident and beautiful as this surely wouldn't waste his time on you. You could only hope. The heat of desire spread across your body, sending shivers down your sides and up your neck. 

You look at your phone, only 30 minutes have passed, the ride was going too fast, a thought you've never had until tonight. "Sorry, I-it's hard for me to talk, I meant to introduce myself. I'm Arthur, " an arm extended out enthusiastically towards you. His hands were pale with balmy pink palms and bumpy weathered knuckles, possibly bruises, and healed cuts. "No worries!" You exclaimed without hesitation. "I know how it can be, trust me!" You said and beamed a smile. You meant to reassure him. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur!" You reached out to shake his hand. It was cold. You felt the urge well up to warm him, to bring him to you. "Y/N," he said. "I like that." A smile lingered on his lips. You wondered salaciously to yourself how soft they must be pressed to yours, how they must taste and replayed what they looked like, saying your name repeatedly in your mind.  

Not knowing what to say and not wanting to fill the air with awkward small talk but still wanting to hear this man speak, the man with the silky gravel voice, anything would suffice. You both went to speak and caught yourselves in the interruption. "No, it's okay. Go ahead." he uncrossed his leg and lightly patted his knee as he chuckled. "No, no, that's okay, what were you going to say?" You blurted out, needing to hear him speak, craving his cadence. Arthur broke the tension and playfully asked, "So what brings you to ride the subway so late at night? Aren't you scared?" You at first thought this could be perceived as an odd question, threatening even, but you didn't feel that way. You heard concern in his voice masked by humor. It caused a burst of oxytocin to release within you, and you felt fulfilled, welcomed, content with Arthur's presence. He cared about you.  

You had pondered your answer for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. What could you say to draw him in without looking like a fool or a desperate idiot? Your mental struggle must have been visible on your face as he leaned in closer, waiting baited breath for your answer. You spoke, finally unsure of what you'd say. " Well, I work at the Gotham Shelter overnight. So, having to ride the train every night, I've gotten used to it for the most part. But yeah, I do get scared sometimes. The city can be super sketchy, and I've been jumped twice already, so I had to buy mace and stuff to try and protect myself." She felt herself unload, not meaning to trauma dump, but she just felt like she could tell him anything, and he wouldn't just hear her but would actively listen. Hearing her words fully, knowing their weight and value.  

The color left his face, and a look of what can only be described as a mixture of concern, regret, and pure rage crossed his face. "These people are just fucking terrible!" He said looking onward but not in your direction. You noticed that statement changed his demeanor. You wanted so much for him to be happy, to relieve his tension. It was noble, even endearing to know that he respected and cared for you so much that it appeared to have affected him on an emotional level. Something you didn't see a lot these days or at all. You agreed, truly. The people here were shit.  

"Yeah, but I'm ok now!" You said while reaching out a hand, squeezing his knee and giving it a slight shake. "You're here now! And so, I feel safe." You said as you shrugged your shoulders. Arthurs' thousand-yard stare broke as he felt the heat from your hand on his thigh. His face flushed with red as he turned to look at you. A slight smile curled at the corner of his mouth with a longing look awaiting approval. "You feel safe? W-with me?" He questioned. A smile curled on your lips as well. You could sense the sincerity in his voice. This man was peace, you thought. Pure. Genuine. Peace. "I do." You said in almost a whisper, too shy to meet his gaze but peeking up sheepishly seeing his smile cross his face. "Then I will protect you Y/N" he said matter-of-factly. Heat traveled through your body, leaving you panting almost out of breath, breathing heavy. Impure thoughts began racing through your mind again as you caught each other's gaze in what seemed like forever when the bell chimed in over the loud speaker announcing the next stop.  

Your heart dropped as you realized it was your stop. Damn, I did not want to go to work anymore, I'd rather call off and follow this man wherever he wanted to lead me, you cried inside. Arthur stood with a hand out to help you exit before you even had a chance to say this was your stop. Was this his stop, too? You thought. "Thank you," you said and turned to Arthur. "It was so nice having someone to ride the train with tonight for a change!" Arthur took your hand in his to steady you, and as you walked, you could feel his other hand at the small of your back. How kind and generous you thought, followed by thoughts of that hand moving lower and caressing the plumpness of your cheeks or even sliding his hand inside and exploring. You thought you felt his hand twitch, hoped you did, but couldn't be sure.  

I've never met anyone quite like him, you thought. Your mind was at a battle with itself over how kind this person treated you versus the things you wanted to do to him right then and there. But that stopped when the sudden realization came over you that you may never see him again. As the doors closed, you turned on your heels and stepped forward, suddenly changing your mind, but the train began its route once again. You stood at the doors longing for him as you watched his waving silhouette disappear into the darkness of the tunnel. You hoped you’d see him again. 

[thedelicatearcher]

finnick odair alphabet fluff

c - cuddles

it’s no secret that finnick odair relishes in being in your embrace. the soft, contented hums you make warm his heart every time his arms are wrapped tenderly around you.

on a typical afternoon, finnick would head to the beach for some quiet time alone. nonetheless, when he returns, he’s eager to pull you into his arms the moment he sees you napping on the bed. he already is picturing the potential gentle scolding he might face if he goes ahead and cuddles you before showering. his mind ponders: is it worth it? more often than not, he quietly slips into bed and holds you as the big spoon.

he loves the feeling of your body pressed against his, especially after he’s just come out of the cool water. the warmth of your body against his chest brings a swarm of butterflies to his chest, a sensation he has felt ever since he met you. he tightens his embrace whenever he feels you stir in your sleep, instantly alert and ready to wake you if you’re having a nightmare. his head finds your neck and plants a soft kiss on your skin before burying his face in it. your sweet, soft scent soothes his anxious mind. he knows he’ll face a disapproving look from you when you see the sand he has brought from the beach, and he knows he’ll have to wash the sheets, but it’s all worth it for the chance to hold you in his arms.

in the days leading up to another hunger games, those days before he has to return to the capitol, finnick becomes distant. he avoids you, spending his days alone by the sea, hoping the waves will carry him far away. watching his melancholic figure from afar and seeing the emptiness in his eyes, you can’t help but feel a strong urge to reach out and be his safety net. 

one midnight, you woke up and turned around, stumbling upon finnick’s awake and tense figure in the dim light. he instantly noticed you looking at him and quickly wiped away his tears. “go back to sleep, sweetheart. i’m okay,” he tried to say, but his voice cracked. “oh honey,” you cooed, opening your arms to him, “come here, sweetie.” his warm tears soaked into your pajama shirt as he cried on your chest, but you didn’t care at all. watching the man you love break down in your arms made your heart ache as if it was being pierced by a knife. 

an hour later, after countless back rubs and soothing words, finnick had calmed down and asked you softly to hold him as he fell asleep. and you did so, you found yourself with his head resting peacefully on your chest, your heartbeat soothing him as your fingers gently combed through his hair. though his weight pressed on you, it felt comforting rather than suffocating. his arms were tightly wrapped around your hips, making the position a bit awkward, but you didn’t mind. you would gladly comfort finnick like this every night if it meant he felt a little less lonely. 

on lazy days, finnick flops carelessly onto the couch, disregarding the decorative pillows he always calls ugly and pointless, and invites you to join him. his face lights up with a beaming grin when you finally join him. finnick adores the feeling of your body on top of him. he gloriously looks up at you when your chin rests on his chest and you’re chatting with him so casually, completely oblivious of how lovesick you make him. although, he wonders if you notice the erratic beat of his heart whenever your head lies on his chest. these are his favorite days. the ones spent cuddling all day. the ones he wears his faded cotton shorts and an old t-shirt. the ones in which his mind is focused solely on you and the little lovely bubble you share. the bubble which bursts when you slip out of his arms to find something to eat after his stomach rumbled a few too many times.

[indigoraysoflight]

“Spicy food in India” | Caryl prompt

requested by @that-left-turn ❤️

~

Cardamom & Curry

Carol stared at the fish. They’d been in Munnar for three days, and Carol had already gathered three South Indian recipes to take home. She decided to try making fish curry for lunch instead of finding a local restaurant, but there was one problem. Carol had never filleted a pomfret before. Daryl was the one who always filleted fish in their home, but he was asleep, so she was on her own.

Henry and his dad, Ezekiel, had planned a trip to Kerala, South India and wanted Lydia to go with them. Lydia and Henry had been dating for three years, and Carol adored Henry. He was respectful – if a little spoiled – and he loved Lydia. She knew Daryl liked him too but was extra grumpy around the boy who was dating his adopted daughter. Henry and his dad travelled a lot and often took Lydia with them. But Daryl refused to let their kid go across the world by herself, even though their kid wasn't really 'a kid'. So, Ezekiel generously extended the invitation to Lydia’s adoptive mom and her adoptive mom’s platonic best friend, who also happened to be Lydia’s adoptive father. To say their first dinner together had been awkward would be an understatement. 

They’d been saving up for a big vacation for a year and a half now, so the timing worked out. Her catering business was going well this year, but Carol doubted they’d ever be able to afford this expensive rental. The luxury cottage was built with rustic stone and wood, and nestled on top of a hill, surrounded by tea and cardamom plantations. Ezekiel had given them the tour when they arrived, but the space was too big for her taste; she would’ve preferred a cozy but comfortable cottage with a view of the rolling hills. Still, she’d smiled graciously every time he pointed out an expensive feature on the property while Daryl sulked in the back. There was an odd tension between Daryl and Ezekiel, and she'd figured out why after what happened yesterday. Carol thought it best to stay with Daryl today and take some time to think–

“You tryna fillet the fish with your mind? Just gotta use a knife.” 

Carol blinked, realizing she had zoned out and she was still staring at the pomfret. “Is that how it works? I thought if I stared at it sternly, it would fillet itself.”

“Gimme.” He limped over and started filleting the pomfrets with impressive precision. 

“Show off,” she muttered under her breath.

His hair was dishevelled, and he wore cargo shorts and a faded tie-dye t-shirt that Sophia had made for him years ago. She pushed his fringe back to examine the cut on his face, held together by butterfly bandages. They'd been more generous with their touches lately – especially since they got here – but she didn't mind, and she didn't think he minded either by the way he leaned into her touch.  

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” he said without looking up at her. 

“You’re lucky you didn't need stitches.” He looked up at her then, his eyes intense as they flicked down to her lips. She realized she was just running her fingers through his hair now and stepped back. 

She and Daryl woke up before dawn the last two mornings and, in a jetlagged daze, walked along the path through the tea plantation to catch the sunrise. They didn’t expect it to rain on their way back yesterday. She slipped and would’ve tumbled down the path, but Daryl steadied her, lost his balance, and landed in the tea plantation. Besides a large cut on the left side of his face, tea leaves stuck to his elbows and knees, and a sprained ankle — he was intact. His eyes held a fear she hadn’t seen in five years –  fear and something else – as he frantically checked her for injuries and then held her in his arms for a solid minute in the rain.  

“This fish isn't going to marinate itself,” she said in a chipper voice and mixed the spices in a bowl to calm her heart rate before smearing a generous amount of the paste on the fish. 

“That’s enough. Dunno if I need more spice.”

Carol smirked and batted her eyelashes at him. “But I thought you liked it when I’m spicy, Pookie.”   

“Stop.” 

They fell into the rhythm they had in their own kitchen. She sauteed the onions with the spice mixture while he squinted at the recipe she’d scribbled on a paper pad and started cutting the tomatoes – stopping every few seconds to pop a slice in his mouth. Carol took a deep breath and focused on the onions. Something had viscerally shifted between them on the long flight over here. She’d clung to him on the plane during turbulence, and after they landed, they kept reaching for an excuse to touch each other. She’d been so unguarded in the way she leered at him that Lydia and Henry had given her a knowing look more than once.  

“Where’s the royal family? I’m guessing Lydia is with them?” Daryl casually fed her a slice of tomato and then sucked the juice off his fingers. 

They’re gone, and I’m in trouble. Carol steadied her voice. “Lydia, Henry, and Zeke went sightseeing; they won’t return until after dinner.” It’s just us, and you keep doing that thing with your mouth, she thought.

Carol let the curry simmer while they stepped onto the balcony and lounged on the chairs, staring at the green expanse. The air was dewy and perpetually scented with a hint of cardamom. Sophia would’ve loved this place. She would be perched on the balcony with her sketchbook, scribbling away and absentmindedly picking at her nails. 

“Why didn’t ya go with them? I’m sure Henry’s dad will miss you.” Daryl growled and picked at his nail. 

The tension between Daryl and Ezekiel got worse when he limped on their way back yesterday, and Ezekiel offered to pay for a doctor to take a look at him. Carol knew he would refuse, and thankfully she had packed some first aid supplies because she knew this man too damn well.

Carol rolled her eyes. “I wanted to stay and take care of Lydia’s dad, so he understood.”

Daryl’s lips quirked up, summoning a flutter in her belly. What are we doing here, Daryl? She wanted to ask. They’d been tip-toeing around each other for years now. Or she thought they were. Maybe this is all they’d ever be – platonic best friends who lived together, who raised a daughter and lost another. Two people who let their touches linger too long, reached for each other when they were afraid, longed for each other when they were apart, and sometimes slept in each other’s arms but never crossed that line. Always something more, but never quite enough. 

“Surprised he hasn’t asked ya out yet.” 

Carol blinked at Daryl, wanting to point out the irony in what he’d said. Irritation coursed through her as the curry burbled away, and she decided to come clean about what had happened the previous evening. 

“He did after dinner last night.”

“What?” Daryl looked like he’d been punched in the gut; Carol tried to ignore the twinge of guilt and failed. 

Ezekiel had helped her load the dishwasher in the kitchen and asked her out before they retired to their rooms last night. He’d been a perfect gentleman – charming, respectful, and chivalrous. But all she’d thought about was how Daryl’s eyes had lingered on her lips before dinner when he’d told her she looked beautiful. 

“I told him I’ll think about it.” They weren’t in a position to anger their host, even though she felt that Ezekiel would accept defeat graciously and not put them in an awkward position. 

“Why didn’t ya say yes?”

“Why does it matter?”

Daryl’s behaviour was giving her whiplash. He practically undressed her with his eyes last night and almost launched himself at Ezekiel for complimenting her at dinner. Now, he was pushing her to date the man.

Daryl peered through his fringe, his eyes earnest. “He’s real charming, rich, generous, and clearly has a thing for ya.”

Carol crossed her arms. “If he’s so great, why don't you go out with him?”

“Pfft. Ain’t my type.” 

“What is your type?” Carol raised her eyebrows, ignoring the heat that crept up her cheeks as Daryl’s eyes roamed her face and lingered on her lips before he pried his gaze away.

“Don’t change the subject. He’s corny and a bit pretentious, but he doesn’t seem like an asshole.”

“So, that’s what you want then? For me to date Ezekiel?” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze, her anger now simmering to the surface and prickling at her eyes. Is that what he wanted? Then why did he look at her like that all the time — like he was afraid of losing her? Had she gotten this all wrong? Did she spend years pining after a man who was finally telling her he was not interested? 

Daryl looked away. “I want ya to be happy. He’d treat you like a Queen and-”

“-I should get started on the appam.” 

Carol went to the kitchen before the tears formed in her eyes, hating the open plan of the cottage where she could feel Daryl’s eyes follow her. Her hand reached for the pink bauble pendant resting on her chest. After Sophia died, they’d grown closer and built a wall between them at the same time. But when Lydia came into their lives, the wall started breaking down. She hoped, in time, they could pick up where they left off. Now, she didn’t know why she thought this vacation would be a new beginning for them. Daryl was never going to see her as anything but his best friend. She’d waited too long. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daryl loved watching her cook. Her hair was tied up in a bun; she wore a loose Bowie t-shirt, baggy sweats, and soft fuzzy elf socks Lydia got for her last Christmas. The aroma of cardamom and chilli lingered in the air as she poured rice batter on a pan to make the rice crepes they called appam. He wished he could walk up and wrap his arms around her, kiss the nape of her neck and see if he could taste cardamom on her skin. I bet Ezekiel didn't think this hard before he made his move. He sighed. 

Daryl didn’t know how many days he had left to savour her presence, reach for her hand when they walked up a crooked path and watch the sunrise wash over her freckles. She looked radiant last night in the blue dress that hugged her form and illuminated her eyes. He knew sooner or later, she’d meet a man who deserved her. I didn’t think it would be this soon. To think he’d hoped this vacation would give them time to figure out what their future looked like. Even if Daryl selfishly wished to be with her, Carol deserved someone who could offer her the world. Ezekiel sure as hell checked all the boxes.

Carol deserved all of this. Lavish vacations, a charming partner, and children who adored her – who were safe and in her arms. She deserved a comfortable life after everything she’d been through.  

Daryl’s work as a contractor was unpredictable, and renting a cottage of this size for twelve days was out of the question. He thought the trip he’d taken her and Sophia on to the Grand Canyon had been extravagant because he’d spent a chunk of his savings to upgrade them to a big cabin with a mini-pool. Now Henry’s rich father entered the picture and showed him up with one effortless, generous gesture and an offhanded “We vacation here every summer”. The universe could’ve kicked him in the balls, and it would’ve hurt less. 

Daryl walked into the kitchen and started slicing some red onions to soak in lemon juice because he needed something to do before his thoughts choked him. Carol’s eyes were far away when she held up a spoon so he could taste the curry; the heat from the spices hit him straight in the back of his throat and lingered on his palate. 

“Why did you stay after Sophia died?” 

Daryl coughed. “What?”

“You heard me.”

It didn’t even occur to him to leave after Sophia died. When he’d rented the basement apartment in Carol’s house all those years ago, he only wanted a cheap place to rest his head as he went through trade school. Daryl hadn’t expected to fall so deeply in love with Carol and co-parent her child with her. Before he knew it, he'd moved upstairs into the spare room, and he walked the kid to school every day and helped with her homework. He’d come to love Sophia like she was his own daughter. When she died, he and Carol had anchored each other through their shared grief over the loss of their little girl. Then, another kid walked through the doors, and they were given another chance.  

“I loved that kid. I know Sophia wasn’t mine, but she was.” He didn’t expect his voice to break as his eyes lingered on Carol's pink bauble necklace. 

“I know. But that’s not what I asked.” her voice was soft, her eyes crystal in the afternoon light – she was crying in the kitchen when he was busy leering at her. He wanted to kick himself for being an idiot again. 

Carol pinned him with her gaze. “Why’d you stay?” 

“Why didn’t ya say yes to Ezekiel?” he deflected.

“I’m not interested in him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t love him.” Carol’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Ezekiel wasn’t the one who held me through my grief. He didn’t take my daughter trick-or-treating or scour ten game stores to find the obscure video game she wanted. He didn’t make her chicken soup with alphabet pasta when she was sick. He didn’t treat me and my daughter like we were the center of his universe-” Carol’s voice broke, and she wiped her tears. 

“Carol-” 

“-I thought we were on the same page, Daryl, and hoped we’d have a stroke of luck with the change of scenery, but I guess I was wrong.” 

Did she really not know? Had he not been clear enough about how he felt? He loved her so much he’d let her walk into a pretentious rich guy’s arms—shit. As he played the thoughts over in his mind, he realized how they must’ve sounded out loud. I fucked up. Words chased each other in his mind as he struggled to explain. 

“Our luck’s run out,” Carol sighed and turned to leave.

Before he could think too hard, he pulled her close and kissed her. Her lips tasted of cardamom, and her. Carol. A small part of his mind worried about her shoving him away, but instead, she melted in his embrace and drew him in for more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His lips were softer than she’d imagined. He kissed her deeply and slowly like he had all the time in the world. His hands were everywhere – caressing her face, gripping her waist, tangled in her hair – like he was tracing her silhouette in his memory. When they came up for air, her mind was molasses, and her thoughts returned to her slowly. He traced her jawline with a featherlight touch and looked at her like he worried she would disappear. Carol blinked away the tears and ran a finger alongside the butterfly bandages on his face. Their eyes met, and he held her hand to his cheek and kissed it. 

“Why’d you stay?” she asked again. 

“I stayed because I belong with you.”

There was nothing else she could say but kiss him again and wonder why she hadn’t done it sooner. 

“Why did you tell me to date Ezekiel?” she asked between kisses. 

“I’m an idiot.” He kissed her back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After their make-out session, they took a quick break to catch a breath and have lunch – a bowl of fish curry with rice crepes or appam. They’d been eating spicy food for days, and he always regretted it in the morning, but that didn't stop him. He dove in immediately, savouring every bite as the sharp taste of chilli and cardamom hit his palate. Sooo good. He could still taste the fish, and it melted in his mouth. He couldn’t slow down if he tried, so he helped himself to a red onion slice soaked in lemon juice and hummed as the acid cut through the savoury richness of the curry.

Carol watched him with a smile – her gaze soft and open. Most of her hair had escaped the bun, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips looked swollen and kissable. His brain short-circuited; he didn’t know whether to continue eating the curry or kiss her. She solved his problem by scooping some fish with the appam and feeding it to him; Daryl held her gaze as he ate and licked the pads of her fingers with his tongue. 

He didn’t know which one of them closed the gap. He didn’t care because he was kissing the woman he loved. His hands pulled her close, and her fingers grabbed his hair as they stumbled toward her bedroom. The taste of cardamon and curry lingered on his tongue as he pressed openmouthed kisses to her neck.   

“Your lips taste spicy, Pookie.” 

“Thought you like it when I’m spicy.”

Her laughter bounced off the walls as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. 

_________________________________________________________

A few notes: 

Munnar: Munnar is a hillstation in India’s Kerala state. It's surrounded by rolling hills dotted with tea, coffee, and cardamom plantations.

Appam: Appam is a thin and lacy fermented rice pancake. Traditionally, it’s eaten with stew or coconut chutney. 

Pomfret: This delicate white fish is a staple in coastal regions of India.  

Fish curry recipe for the curious minds (if you plan on making it, please don’t forget to marinate your protein). 

[theonemeathead]

Spy x Reader, "Damn Spys"

hello! sorry for the lack of content, all i do is work nowadays. here's a spy x reader smutfic in the meantime, enjoy!

tws for fem implied reader, afab anatomy

Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck.

You propelled yourself forward, skidding down the hall. You slightly fumbled over yourself, quickly regaining your balance before sprinting off again. Everyone was on edge, it was a code red; BLU Spy was in the base. Ironic. You had little time to look for him, before God knows what might happen to all of you.

You turned sharply to the right, your loaded gun in your hand. You carried something high calliber in situations like this, it was necessary. Spys were sneaky and played dirty, they toyed with their prey until they had their fill and, only then, did they go for the kill. For all you knew, there could be duplicate of yourself running around, gaining your team's trust. Trust nobody when a Spy is in your midst.

You gunned for the intelligence room. It was only a matter of time before your briefcase was picked up and stolen by the French version of a modern day Boogeyman. You stood in front of the door, racking your brain for the code. It changed weekly, it was never the same input. Soldier normally left the code on a bright yellow sticky note above the keypad, but it seems this was the one time he'd forgotten. You typed in multiple sequences before a familiar chime played, the lock lighting up green and clicking open. Proud of yourself, you turned the doorknob, laying eyes on the briefcase immediately. You scanned the room, carefully. Spys had multiple tricks up their sleeves, including the ability to cloak. Turning invisible was not just a parlor trick when it meant you could end up, face-down, with a flashy balisong dug deep into your back.

Nodding your head, you began walking backwards. You were about to turn around and high-tail back to the others, desperate to be anything but by yourself, when you tripped over... nothing? You had fallen backwards, right on your ass. You were lucky none of the others were here, but then that led to your next question. What could have possibly been in your way? You didn't have time to think before the eerie sound of a Spy decloaking rang out, causing goosebumps to appear immediately on your body. You whipped around, catching the wrist of a very familiar man.

A Spy.

Your brow furrowed, you didn't think twice before pulling him down, towards you. He stumbled, falling forward slightly as you moved to the side. He was so light, so easy to just push around. You wondered how someone so skilled could just be tossed like nothing. You had never really touched a Spy, you tried to stay away from any of them as much as possible. The soft silk of his satin navy jacket felt heavenly, it was a shame he was trying to kill you. He tossed his beloved butterfly knife from one hand to the other, skillfully catching it and swinging back in one graceful motion. You had barely managed to jump back, hardly escaping being sliced like swiss cheese. He seemed to be getting growingly more frustrated the longer you two kept up what felt more like a waltz, than a fight. You kept narrowly avoiding lethal cuts, pushing him around as if he weighed nothing. Having had enough, he growled, fading away in a cloud of smoke again. All that indicated he was still here was the sound of his heeled footsteps.

"Turning invisible? That's cheap," you whispered more to yourself, than anyone. You panted, your senses were heightened from anxiety. Your eyes flicked around, he could be anywhere, now. The hair on your neck stood up immediately when you felt a lingering presence beginning to creep up behind you. As if on queue, he decloaked, his weapon drawn and ready to spill blood. The blade yearned for the sweet taste of that metallic crimson, and it had your name written all over it. You knew the feeling, you've grown familiar with the searing sting that would strike you down in between your shoulder blades. Being backstabbed was nothing more than just a common occurrence on the battlefield, but in your own base, it was laced with something that dug deeper than just the length of a knife; Shame.

You caught him once again, your eyes locked with his. His brow was angled down, tightly pinned together as he tried to keep pushing past the grip you had on him. Seems Soldier's training does pay off. His steel tinted eyes glistened in flickering light of the overhead LEDs, the red light of the alarm illuminating him every now and then. You took a moment to admire what little bit of his face you could see. His eyebrows were well trimmed, as if he plucked them himself. There was a slight crease on the bridge of his nose, the hook leaving a deep indent in between his eyes. You could smell the distinct scent of aftershave from how close you were, along with a fragrant cologne. His teeth, although perfect, were slightly stained from nicotine. You could see the remnants of what would be where his facial hair would grow, a shadow all that's left of what was once there. He was well kempt, you'll give him that. You had half-forgotten you were about to die, until you felt your hand falter slightly. His butterfly knife was dangerously close to the vital atery in your neck. You didn't know what to do, you felt cornered.

So, naturally, you swung your other hand up to meet the fabric of his inky blue balaclava. Taking a fistful of the fabric, you yanked it off, tossing it far off to the side. He stared, wide-eyed down at you. You felt his movements stutter, as if expecting anything but that to have happened. You took the window of opportunity to knock the balisong out of his hands, watching as it slid itself under a set of filing cabinets. Now, you were face to face with Spy, yet he didn't have the illusion of hiding behind a mask anymore. He backed off, creating distance between you two.

His cheek bones were high and defined, his jaw almost chiseled. He had a few wrinkles, frown lines and crow's feet, indicating he was aged. Much older than you. The part that surprised you the most was how much hair was under his disguise. He had a headful, most of it slicked back to the top of his head. It was a dark shade of brown, almost black. Grey streaks formed from the root, fanning back and feathering through the rest of his wavy hair. You were awestruck, to say the least.

"You're beautiful." Your words came out, breathless. You watched his frantic expression shift to one of blatant confusion.

"Pardon?" He had been called many things, handsome, sexy... but never beautiful. He flushed slightly at your compliment before quickly shaking his head. You had just ripped his mask off, sent his most prized possession flying across the room, and now you had the gall to compliment him?

He sculked towards you, watching as you took a step back everytime he moved forward. You stopped abruptly when your lower half bumped into the table; The table your intelligence sat on. He trapped you, slamming both of his long, skinny arms around your frame. Instinctively, you shrunk down. He was tall, so much taller than you. You flinched when he brought a hand up to your waist, taking the gun from its holster. He sat it on the floor, kicking it far away from where you both stood. Now you were both defenseless in the sense that you both lacked weapons.

"Do you know what I do to those who've seen my full identity, mon chérie?" The words rolled off his tongue, venom dripping from his words. The way he spoke sent shivers down your spine. And although he worked for the enemy, you felt yourself wanting him to say more, to do more to you. Were you into this?

"What?" It sounded meek, desperate even. Damn Spys are all the same; Flirty and suave. But, God, was he good at it. He smirked, a sinister undertone etched deep into his expression. He traced a gloved hand from the top of your knee, up towards your inner thigh. He kneaded teasing circles, dangerously close to the warmth between your legs. You were embarrassed how aroused this was getting you. The risk of being caught in an open space like this, the thrill of flirting with someone who you were supposed to hate, it was all too much. He chuckled darkly, pressing himself into you, the crotch of his slacks rubbing against your soft body.

Oh, he was getting off on this too.

"Why don't I show you." He wrapped one hand around your neck, digits pressing slightly into the vulnerable flesh between his fingers. Tenderly, he connected his lips to yours. He reveled at the way you whined into the kiss, amused by how needy you were. He allowed you to unbutton the jacket of his suit, helping you peel it off. Tongues danced around each other, the taste of mint and menthol numbing your senses. He was so intoxicating, he made even a sloppy makeout feel elegant.

He broke the kiss, a small string of saliva still connecting your mouths. You panted, pulling him by the loops of his slacks. Eagerly, you went for the zipper, ready to have your brains fucked out. Yet, it was his turn to catch your wrists. He sternly looked at you, pushing your hands back to your chest. You swallowed thickly, obeying the silent command. Instead, you opted to move to yourself. You fiddled with the buttons of your own jeans, hastily pulling them down to your ankles and off. You hopped up on the table behind you, gasping when cold steel made contact with your warm, bare skin. Spy watched you, eagerly. His gaze was hungry, maybe even desperate. There was no 'double' of you yet, MannCo. was still working out the kinks of it all. Perhaps seeing you flaunt yourself on the battlefield drove him crazy. Perhaps that's why it felt like he targeted you during those matches, to get close to you, to feel you. You reminisced often of the times of how he would hold you as you faded to Respawn.

Broken from your thoughts, you felt the leather material of an expensive glove paw at the bottom of your shirt. He looked at you for confirmation, in which you obliged by helping him lift it up and off. Experienced hands trailed to your back, masterfully unclipping your bra. It felt so nice, being pampered like this. You allowed it to fall of your shoulders, the straps sliding down your bicep as you peeled the coarse material off. You were bare beneath him, save for your panties.

"Tu es belle, mon ange," he spoke, breathlessly. He dipped, leaving soft kisses down your jaw and towards your collarbone. He lapped at the crook where the dip of your neck met your shoulders, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh. He sucked, a slight sting beginning to form from the sensation. Your breath hitched, a small gasp leaving you as you felt the familiar tenderness of a bruise beginning to form. He plastered you with marks, as if claiming you. Claiming you, the 10th mercenary of the RED team, for BLU.

You laced one of your hands in his greying hair, instinctively pulling at the soft strands when he bit down particularly harsh. You heard a low groan, causing another wave of heat to pool between your legs. Seemingly satisfied with the dark purple marks littered across your upper body, he began making his way down. Leaving slow, sensual kisses down your sternum and towards your chest and down your stomach. He looped his fingers around the band of your underwear and began pulling. He slid them down with little trouble, caressing the back of your leg with his other hand as he did so. Even in the blaring alarms, he could still see how you glistened for him.

"You seem to be enjoying this, ma fleur," he purred. You let out a shakey breath, eyes following the hand that trailed from you knee, down towards your warmth. You sighed in bliss when you felt the foreign material of his gloves delve into the folds of your cunt, rubbing expertly around your clit. He started slow, making you whine and grind back against him.

"More, please. I need more." Your voice was lined with ecstasy. He chuckled, amused by how you didn't beat around the bush. Maybe you weren't so hard to break.

"Whatever you wish."

You grabbed his wrist, arching into the touch as he rubbed faster. It was insane how good at this he was. You began to feel a coil, as if a something inside of you was beginning to tighten. You rocked your hips in rythm with his fingers, biting your lip to hold back how loud you wanted to be. Eventually, it snapped. Your grip tightened on his arm, your eyes screwed shut as you felt hot bliss course through tour body. He worked you through it, stopping when you finally came down. You looked up at him, mouth slightly agape. The Frenchman grinned, maniacally, down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling from pride.

A silent look was shared between the two of you; A knowing look. He unfastened the buckle of his belt, allowing his pants to slide down towards the floor. He kept his shirt and tie on, but allowed you to pull his briefs down, studying your reaction as you watched his hard cock spring free. He was a lot longer than you imagined, yet not thick. He was uncircumcised, his cock a bit darker than the rest of his body. You watched as he pumped himself a couple of times, the head of his cock peaking out. It was a light pink, cute in a weird way. You watched as a line of clear precum dripped towards the floor.

He guided the tip towards your aching pussy, slowly sliding himself into the wetness of your body. He let out a long groan, as if he hadn't done this in a long time, as if he needed to use your body. You gasped when he bottomed out, the head of his cock resting against your cervix. You whimpered, desperate for him to create friction. Just like him, it had been a while since you'd done this too.

He pulled his hips back, testing the waters before pushing fully back into you. He positoned himself above you so that his hands were pulling you up towards him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, encasing him deep inside you. You threw your arms around his neck, one planting itself deep in his hair, yet again. He fucked into you, rough and fast. Every thrust illicited an even more vulgar moan from you. It didn't help he was rather noisy in your ear, either. Praising you in a language you didn't understand, groaning your name. Not your class name either; Your real name.

Suddenly, he hit a spot, his cock dragging fully against it. He abused it, knowing what it was doing to you. You couldn't even get the words out before you reached your climax, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your noises. This seemed to be what pushed him over, the way you tightened around him and moaned his name, it was too much. He released, deep inside the warmth of your body. You could feel yourself getting filled, bred to the brim with his cum beginning to leak out of you. He pulled out, leaning back to gaze into your eyes. His gaze was gentle, almost loving. Maybe this is what he needed, a companion. After 23 years, it felt nice to just hold somebody. To you, it felt nice to be held.

You both knew this was not going to be a one time thing.

"SPY, COME IN. HAVE YOU PENETRATED THE DEFENSES, YET? OVER." The voice of the BLU Soldier rang out over Spy's watch. He groaned, rolling his eyes before raising it to respond.

"I've penetrated something, oui," he winked at you, taking his other hand and combing his hair to slick back down. He got dressed, pulling the mask back on as the final touch. He left a quick kiss on your forehead, before clicking something on his watch. He nodded his head at you, standing at the exit. "Until again, mon ange."

You watched as he ran off down the hall, disappearing into a cloud of smoke. You shook your head, amused.

As you slid your shirt back on, finally fully dressed, the weight of what had happened had hit you. He was still the BLU Spy. You whipped your head back to the table, eyes widening as you noticed that your team's briefcase was now missing. Your jaw dropped and all you could do was stand there as the Administrator's voice rang through the base, disappointment evident.

"You've failed! The enemy has secured our intelligence."

Damn Spys.

[marsbar17]

OH yes please absolutely make a part two pretty please with a cherry on top 🥺💗

I gotchu babe 😘

More of the legends finding out that you're a ✨️masochist✨️

This is the next 5 legends in release order (excluding caustic and revenant, request if you wanna see them though)

Also apologies the pet names in other languages are mostly masculine but if your femme just imagiiiineee

CONTAINS: pain kinks, spanking, biting, praise, degrading, bruises, electric shocking, bondage, sexual torture, overstimulation, knifeplay, and scratching :)

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•Mirage

All he wants during sexy time is to worship you. You give in to his need for praise all the time so he might as well return the favor, in any way you want. When you tell him you want him to hurt you he's a bit hesitant, but realizes that pain isn't exclusively hardcore shit like slapping or punching you. He probably prefers marking you up with hickeys and small bites than other things.

"You're so pretty for me, baby. Now everyone will know you're mine."

There's never a moment where you don't have a hickey. Once they fade he just gives you more. Occasionally he will spank you lightly or bruise your hips from holding you but that's only when he's been really frustrated.

•Octane

He'll do anything to make you cum as fast as possible, and as many times as possible. If pain is your thing, he's all for it. Anything to feel you shaking and quivering in his arms. When you keep asking him to go harder, grab you, slap you, anything, he just laughs and smiles before obeying your demands. He loves that he can feel you squeeze around him everytime he spanks you.

"You're clenching around me, muñeco. You're a twisted little thing aren't you? I like it."

He spanks you, not super hard but fast and sharp. He'd probably be into knifeplay too. Any man with a butterfly knife is into knifeplay, I'm right. He leaves small scratches along your thighs, not enough to scar, just enough to bleed and sting.

•Wattson

Finally getting to write about my favorite character <33

She's a woman in stem, she's gonna be up for trying a variety of kinky things. That's my opinion on women in stem, coming from someone in stem. She's probably already brought up something like spanking, electric shocking, basically soft sexual torture. She'll tie you up and attach muscle stimulators to your thighs, watching you twitch uncontrollably. You're little "experimenting" sessions always end in you crying and overstimulated.

"Interesting... You're enjoying this quite a bit, aren't you, mon chéri? Want me to increase the intensity?"

None of it is done specifically with the intent to hurt you, or a need for power over you. She just wants to know all the ways your body responds to her torture. Spanking, overstimulation, bondage, electric shocks, muscle stimulation, None of it is specific painful, but it's so overwhelming that after a while you end up sore and sensitive.

•Crypto

Okay unpopular opinion but this man is pretty vanilla. He's not not super against trying new things but he probably draws the line at bondage and blindfolding. When you tell him about how you get turned on by pain he hesitates and looks uneasy, but he's reassured when you tell him it doesn't need to be super hardcore. He's more comfortable with the thought of light spanking than slapping you in the face or nipple clamps yknow. Feeling how you clench around him though, he might start spanking you harder.

"Y-you're squeezing me so much. 씨발~"

Just generally softer and lighter stuff. If he's close he might hold you hard enough to bruise but other than that he sticks to light spanking. My man has enough people he takes his anger out on (ahem ahem mirage and octane) so when it comes to you he just wants to feel loved and to make you feel loved.

•Loba

The trailer for Kill Code part 4 just came out as I'm writing this and like, my gurl needs some stress relief. The rage in this woman's body never ends man. She probably figured out your kink while fucking you to let off some steam and accidentally digging her nails a bit too hard into your skin. The way you squealed and whimpered made her think she hurt you at first and she stopped to check if you were okay. Once she saw how glazed over your eyes were though her concern turned to a sadistic look.

"Oh you liked that? I'm going to have fun with this, beautiful~"

Now that she knows she can let out a bit more rage on you and you'll gladly take it, she does all kinds of shit. Everything you can imagine pain wise, yeah. Obviously she doesn't want to scar you, at least not a lot, you're too beautiful to ruin just for temporary pleasure. So spanking, light scratching, overstimulation, biting, all that jazz.

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I intended to post this a couple days ago but then I fucked up my sleep schedule and today I got my wisdom teeth out so I completely forgot jfbdbsjsk, lemme know if a part three is in order :)