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synnamonroll666 · 1 month ago

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You Are Still Human

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

Pairing: Wendigo!Josh Washington x Fem!Reader Description: Josh breaks down over the fact that he cannot live a normal life since his possession and no longer believes that he is truly human. So you find a special way to remind him of his humanity... Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Mental Breakdown, Insecurities, P In V, Creampie, Slight Choking, Rough Smut Animalistic Smut, Mention Of Breeding, No Foreplay Or Prep, Pain Kink-ish??? (Let me know if I missed any!) Word Count: 3.2k A/N: So I finally got this done! I didn't expect it to end up this long but as you can see, things got out of hand FAST. 😂 I hope you guys enjoy it! 🖤 Josh Washington Masterlist: 🖤 Taglist: @nuggetsandmoose, @maquillagebookmark, @wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee28374728, @bee-who-isnt-french

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

My tired feet slowly shuffle across the hardwood floor as I push myself through the front door of our shared home. I am exhausted after several errands that I had to run today, to say the least. But that's the price I have to pay for pushing them off until right at last minute. Though it wasn't exactly the extra work I had to do that pushed my mind and body to feel so worn out. My loving boyfriend decided to join me, which was a rare occurrence for him.

Ever since the... Incident... He hasn't wanted to go out into the world much. I understand his anxiety of being seen in public with his condition so I never push, but today he insisted on joining me on my mission to finish my to-do list. Perhaps he felt bad that all these burdens were placed on my shoulders with his lack of want to leave the house.

But unfortunately, a face mask to cover up his ripped cheek and sharpened canines was just not enough to cover what he has become. Recovery for Josh was long and hard and we had only just began talking about the possibility of cosmetic surgery. It was a long process before we could even begin worrying about such things.

After leaving the mountain, the spirit of the wendigo left him, not being able to leave where it is bound. But still, traces of an animal-like presence lingered in his behaviors and personality. We didn't know if restoring his humanity was possible, but the doctors were able to recover just enough to get him to a point of leaving the hospital to live a normal life. Though even then, I had to beg to convince them to let me take him home with me.

His parents were hesitant on letting me take care of him, but after some negotiating, they bought a secluded cabin in a swallow forest, just deep enough to give us privacy but not too deep that I would be trapped if I needed to get away. Josh's humanity was indeed resorted, but the primal animal was still within.

And that's where we are now. Josh has an odd habit of forgetting how to act "human" sometimes. Every once in awhile he will stare at someone random and growl lowly, or even nip at the air as though his need to feed was getting too intense. It was worrisome, to say the least. Sometimes I would stay up at night, fearing the one thing that I always worried was inevitable—that Josh would lose control once more.

Though time and time again, he would prove me wrong with a loving and warm cuddle at the end of the day. But sadly, tonight will not be so sweet. I can tell by the way Josh trudges into the living room, his head hung low and shoulders slumped. He wants to be left alone.

Though I understand this, I don't want to leave him with his thoughts again. Bad things happen when Josh is left alone with his thoughts. So I approach the doorway of the living room, leaning against the frame as I watch his tired form from afar. He seems defeated by the way he sat slouched against the soft cushions of our couch.

Slowly, I make my way to him step by step and sit on the couch, my eyes watching him to read his body language. He does not react to my presence, instead staring out into a void of nothingness like his mind is elsewhere. I reach over to the small end table by my side and pull its drawer open, only to retrieve a small, red bag.

I set it on my lap and then turn back to Josh, carefully taking on of his large hands in my own. They have grown a tiny bit since his possession, by an inch for each finger at least. Every part of his body has grown a bit since then. Sometimes it could feel a little intimidating. I run my thumb over the fragile, pale skin on the back of his hand before releasing a tired sigh.

"Your nails are getting long again, sweetheart. Shall I trim them for you?" I ask while reaching for the bag in my lap with my free hand, pulling the zipper to the side to reveal a bunch of nail care tools.

He does not respond verbally, but let's out a huff to let me know that he is fine with it. So with that, I begin my work, trimming and filing away at the sharp and jagged claws. It takes what feels like an hour to get them finished and looking nearly human again. In this time, Josh doesn't move a bit. He is so still, it's hard to tell he is even breathing. But once I finish and go to move my hands away from his, his boney fingers clasp my own.

"Thank... You..." He whispers faintly, his voice coarse and almost ghostly. Life glimmers in his eyes for a brief moment as his light irises study his hands.

But then, after a minute of admiring my work, he stands from his spot on the couch. He begins to pace around the coffee table in the center of the room, as if his mind is wandering, pondering something intense. I watch him for a few moments as he silently walks, feet shuffling along the carpet. But then, he mutters something...

"It's not enough..."

I almost do not catch it, until he repeats the words in a volume just slightly higher than before. But before I know it, Josh is pacing more frantically, whispering the sentence over and over. An eerie dread falls over my body as I watch him, his movements growing more panicked. He seems frightened and enraged, and those feelings seem to grow until he finally snaps, flipping over the coffee table in one swoop of his arms.

"I'm sick of this fucking shit!" He screams in a voice that sounds more like a howl from a wounded animal than anything else. "I'm so sick of being a fucking monster! I'm so fucking sick of people looking at me like one—like I shouldn't be with you or like I'm going to hurt you! I just want to be human again!"

I am stunned, sitting still as ever as if I'm afraid to move. That is until he breaks down, falling to his knees as he let's out a mournful sob. It's as if his spirit has been beaten down to the point of no return by this curse, every day stares, and the pressure of trying to be what he once was. Within a second, I am by his side on the floor, pulling him close to me and embracing him tightly.

"You're not a monster." I whisper sweetly as I caress his thinned out hair, just one more thing he has had to be insecure about since becoming human again. But it never lost its silky texture, which was what I had always loved the most about it.

He shakes his head and whimpers faintly, "I'm just a monster..."

I think for a moment. Usually it's pretty hard to break someone out of this mindset, especially Josh. He has a stubborn way of thinking, which makes it hard to convince him otherwise on a lot of subjects. I continue to pet his hair and think of back when he was human, how much he loved to show me just how much he loved me every day. Of course, a lot of times it would be through physical acts— And finally, it hits me. I know what will break him out of these self-abusive thoughts.

"I want you to prove to me that you're not a monster." I order firmly, which is enough for him to finally raise his head from where it is tucked in my shoulder and look up at me.

"W-What?" He queries just barely above a whisper—just barely enough for me to hear his quivering voice.

I gently caress his cheek, brushing my fingers over his deep scars as I clarify. "Prove to me that you aren't a monster. I know you can. Prove to me that you can feel all the emotions that a normal person can feel, and make me feel them as well in return."

He stares at me for a moment, eyes clearly uncertain about my rather intimate proposition. I can practically see the internal battle going on inside his mind through those glazed over pupils in the center of his white irises. Then, he let's out a shaky breath before biting his lip subtly—a risky habit he still carries from being human, but has to be more cautious doing now with his sharpened teeth.

"I... I don't want to hurt you..." He whimpers like a hurt puppy, glancing back down at his fidgeting fingers.

"You won't," I say as I place my hands on his cheeks, forcing his gaze back to me so he can see my sincerity. "I know you..."

He adverts his eyes once more, only this time looking down at the growing bulge under the rough fabric of his jeans—something I had failed to notice before. Josh had grown so backwards since his turning—so backwards that we haven't had sex since prior to it. I know it is killing him, especially since he was always the horniest guy I knew before this happened.

To make things easier for him, I place my hand on his thigh, resting right beside his needy member. He swallows thickly as he visibly shivers, a thin layer of sweat already coating his skin as his temperature rises. It is a subtle action to test the waters and when I'm sure he is comfortable, my hand goes right to the spot I know he desires so much.

But as soon as my hand cups the twitching length through his pants, something changes. A soft growl is heard rumbling at the back of his throat, and when my eyes flick back up, I am met with a hungry and what looks to be primal gaze. His eyes are no longer soft and sorrowful, but hold something almost animalistic within them.

Before I can say anything, Josh scoops me up and throws me down on the couch, knocking a startled gasp to fly out from me that seems to fall on deaf ears. He is quick to cage me between his arms, and lower his body weight down over top of me to encase me in his grasp, like a predator sealing his prey's fate.

No words are spoken, just the sounds of his ragged breaths and rabid growls fill the air. His body temperature has risen even higher than I have ever felt from him, and as he presses his chest against mine to keep me locked in place, I can feel his racing heartbeat vibrating through his chest as well. It amazes me that he hasn't had a heart attack yet.

But still, it seems as if something is stopping him in place. A lost, uncertain, question glimmers in his orbs as though he is waiting for an answer. Though he is silent, I know what he is asking—the final thing he needs to take things to the next level.

"Go ahead, Josh. I'm ready." I breath faintly, giving him the permission he seeks.

As if from a movie, he tears our clothes off at a supernatural speed. I lay there, naked and dumbfounded as I look at the shreds of clothing that fell all around us, surrounding us like some sort of makeshift nest. I can't help but wonder how in the hell he managed to do that after I just clipped and filed his claws down, but I don't have much time to answer.

A shriek of shock, pain, and pleasure tears from my throat as I feel the familiar sting of something long and hard entering my canal, though this time in a more rough and fast way. Josh was always one for foreplay, but I guess there isn't time for that now, as he is already buried deep within me to the brim within just a split second.

His eyes hold a bit of remorse for only a mere moment, until that hunger returns. I barely have time to breathe as he retracts and enters at a pace I have never seen from him before. His hips pound furiously into mine, a subtle ache setting into my joints almost in an instant as he does his work. His grip on my waist is enough to burst my organs, while his dull nails cut into my flesh, crimson liquid forming under them more and more with each flex of his fingers. If I hadn't have cut his nails before this, I'd be done for. But I feel like Josh would know to be more careful if there was an actual hazard.

The intensity of his tip hitting my g-spot over and over at a brutal force feels to be enough to actually bruise it. Josh was always so good at finding it but this is a whole new level. I push my head back against the cushions as a cry of painful ecstasy parts my lips. Gripping the edges of the cushions and ripped strands of clothing in my fists, I begin to squirm out of pure instinct. Of course, Josh doesn't like this very much. Before I know it, a tight hand is wrapped firmly around my neck, but not enough to actually hurt me. This shows me that deep down, Josh still has some control.

He pounds into me in a sloppy and rough rhythm, determined like an animal desperate to breed. Grunts, groans, and growls that sound less than human are all that are heard from him. I would be concerned if my mind was clear enough to pay attention. No, right now, all my senses were overwhelmed by Josh, cutting off my awareness of the world around us like a sweet death. I am out of my own body now, my soul flying high in the clouds of heaven.

To my surprise, he pulls out. A soft exhale escapes me has he let's go of my throat, but that's only to quickly flip me over so he can now get in from the back. As soon as he shoves his length back inside, he's moving at a pace yet again unimaginable while his claws grip my hips firmly. He is almost pulling me back onto his cock at times, so my hips can meet his own has he thrusts into me. It's so animalistic and natural and it feels so right. And by the feeling of it, it's just enough to satisfy Josh completely.

With a roaring howl, Josh finally finds the release he has been chasing for so long. His speed and strength increases as he comes undone within me, and he fills me to the brim as if he wants to claim me... Or maybe even breed me. It is all too much for me to bear. The sensation of his heavy load spraying into my sweet spot is enough to send me flying over the edge. I bury my face into the cushion as a shuddering moan falls from my lips, before my voice strains away to nothing. My whole body trembles as I practically melt beneath him, and my walls squeeze and quiver around his cock as though I'm practically begging for more.

Though soon that psychical need gives away into exhaustion as soon as my tense muscles relax once my high subsides, my body falling limp like I no longer can control it. I'm just a doll now, all at the mercy of the man who gives me life. He may think that because I help him to heal, I am his savior. But he couldn't be more wrong. Without Joshua, I would be in a darker place, drowning in my trauma of that night. But now, I have him. And in this moment of silence where nothingness hangs in the air, that thought enters my brain. A small smile curls the corners of my lips while I close my eyes, feeling peace as I soak up his warmth while his hot breath fans my shoulder.

He removes himself from me, both of us letting out a trembling whimper, the overestimation stinging our most sensitive areas momentarily. He does not waste a single breath on words, instead leaning down to capture my lips with his. He is careful—careful to not cut me with his long canines, but also holding a tenderness he used to show before all of this. He knows that I am at my most vulnerable at this time, and will take the most caution to not break me at my fine glass-like state. When he pulls away, he gazes upon me with tear-filled and passionate eyes, his orbs reflecting what seems to be gratefulness and love.

"That wasn't the wendigo in me..." He breathes faintly while raising a hand to caress my cheek in a way so tender that I feel as if I could cry. Though I raise a questioning brow at that statement, not knowing what he means. So he elaborates after taking another second to breathe, still worn out by our recent activities. "I just needed you that badly... So I guess that was the human in me, huh?"

I smile at that and nod, admiring how he blushes at what he admits. For someone who used to be so ballsy and open with his dirty thoughts, Josh could be pretty backwards at times. It was something I always adored so much about him. I run my fingers through his raven, disheveled hair while taking in his stunning features, a soft sigh leaving me before I whisper. "You can have me whenever you like, Josh."

Josh smiles and presses his lips to mine once more, and then lays his head on my chest. I watch him intently, taking note of how he smiles when he hears my heartbeat quicken ever so slightly at the sight of him on top of me. He gently rubs my sides, soon stopping to snuggle into my breasts, seemingly deciding that this nest of our torn clothing would be our bed for the night.

Josh always reminded me of a Great Dane in a way. Despite being a lot bigger than me, there was always enough space on top of me for cuddles in his eyes. It was always quite amusing to me each time his large form would envelope my own. I continue to pet his hair, soft strands threading through my fingers with each touch. He let's out a huff in contentment and kisses my left breast, the sensation of his lips on my skin being absorbed through my flesh and meeting my heart to caress it with the love he feels for me.

"Thank you..." He murmurs, his voice dropping an octave lower and coming out more like a purr due to his exhaustion. My eyes focus on him as he closes his eyes, taking one more deep breath and then continuing his sentence a mere second before he falls into a peaceful slumber on top of me. "For everything..."

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

#until dawn #until dawn josh #josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington smut #wendigo!josh washington #synnamonsspicyfics

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fatuismooches · 9 months ago

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Your fluff writing is soo good! Thank you so much for making this blog.

Can I request headcanons for Dotorre, Pantalone, and Capitano with a reader who's not used to the cold? I just moved from my extremely warm country to a really cold place, and am sniffling, shivering, and miserable 🥲🥲 If only there's someone to cover me in a boyfriend jacket and hold hands with something to keep me warm 😔😔

Dottore once went through the same thing, moving from Sumeru to Snezhnaya definitely affected him in the beginning. His younger self grumbled throughout his experiments as he was bogged down with the heavy winter coat (that Pierro so generously provided) while the native Snezhnayans felt pity for him, but dared not to look at him with that feeling. It was really a hindrance in the beginning, not even gloves could keep his fingers from stiffening. A big disappointment since he needed steady hands. However, a couple of centuries and body modifications later, make it so the cold is nothing special to him or his segments. It really doesn’t affect them much anymore.

So for once, Dottore can actually understand what you’re feeling. And even more surprisingly he can handle the situation in a relatively normal way! You look kind of ridiculous with the amount of layers he's made you wear, but he insists that this method will work. You'll build up resistance eventually! But you're probably not satisfied with this turn of events (you wanted cuddles, didn't you?) so just head on over to his segments. As long as they're not busy, feel free to take their artificially heated-up hands and move them around your body. It will feel very nice. Lucky you, who needs expensive heaters when you have the segments! But honestly, no matter how cold you are, don't give too much attention to them and neglect the original Dottore! Would he turn off the lab's heating and assign tasks to the segments to make you crawl back to him begging for warmth? Well, that's up to you.

Pantalone will not hear of your shivering and sniffling, no, not on his watch. What did you expect, that he'd let his beloved suffer like this when he has all the remedies at his fingertips? There's not much to say really. Thick, cozy blankets. A delicious hot beverage of your choice and hearty soup by the fireplace. Only the finest heaters in Teyvat. Warm, comfortable clothing. A seat on his lap if you prefer rather than the bed. The amount of things he does for you may have you feeling a little too hot, not just from the number of heat sources but his willingness to do all these things for you. (But please don't overheat.) He won't stop until your hands stop being two blocks of ice. And yes, you can steal his coat if you so desire. He has a lot more, don't worry about it. Hell, steal two or three if you like... one to wear, one to place over you, and one to... hold? Doesn't matter, Pantalone encourages it. And although he doesn't like seeing you cold, of course, he thinks you're just far too cute when you give him the puppy eyes for much-needed warmth and attention.

A part of it also stems from how many days and nights he spent cold and alone as a child, with nothing and no one to keep him warm. Often becoming sick from the conditions. So he knows exactly how it feels to be trembling and miserable. Which is why he will never let you suffer similarly, Pantalone cares for you far too much for you to ever endure anything related to that. He will make sure to keep your hands warm, as long as you keep his heart warm too.

Capitano feels quite glum, even though you can't exactly see that from his expression, you manage to read his general body language quite well, not to mention the stare you get when you sniffle for even a second. He himself doesn't feel the cold much either, being the very strong man he is. But Capitano wants to help you, he really does - he has led troops through all kinds of weather, including the biting cold - so he is aware of methods used to retain as much warmth as possible. So yes, he will make sure your closet has much warm clothing, although he has to awkwardly clear his throat when asking for your sizes. He will get confused as to why you steal his massively oversized clothing instead. He will make sure that soup is nutritious enough to keep your strength up (even though you're not a soldier...) Of course, the bed will be your cozy warm haven, the blankets are very nice and big considering how tall Capitano is.

Considering how Capitano isn't all that versed in things like this or taking care of people, you would thank him for all he's done for you. Except that he's forgotten one thing, you'd tease. Externally he looks the same as always. Internally he wonders if he's messed up and if he's upset you. Was he wrong to apply the logic of being a captain to his relationship with you? No, it's merely the fact that he has yet to cuddle you. Oh. That's all? But wouldn't all these blankets and sheets be better at warming you, your husband questions? Nope, you'd shush him before making yourself right at home and his lap. You are very strange, Capitano thinks.

Also just imagine them with their Harbinger coats, and you're inside of it! Stealing the warmth! Your head popping out as they give you kisses! <3

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #pantalone love notes <3 #capitano love notes <3 #yk what this can go into the tags why not #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #capitano x reader #genshin impact x reader #its kind of tag worthy i think

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blckbrrybasket · 1 month ago

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20. “Sweet As Whiskey”

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Afab!Reader

꒰Blood Kink + Period꒱ - 2.0k

• oral (r receiving), period blood!!, friends

kinktober m.list

Eddie was rather neutral about being a vampire. There was good and bad that came with it, as anything. One thing he couldn’t determine if it was a good thing or a bad thing though, was being able to smell blood so intensely. It helped him hunt, but it also made it extremely hard to stay away from you when you were on your period.

You hadn’t yet connected the dots of why some days he’d drop off the face of the earth after getting you chocolate, ice cream, and whatever else he could think you would need. Then like clockwork after he dropped the items off he’d leave for a few days, coincidentally when you were on your period. Maybe it was a guy thing?

You knew he was a vampire, but he didn’t talk about it a lot. The ins and outs of his ‘condition’ were unclear to you, never once thinking that he could probably smell blood and it was intoxicating to him when you were on your period. No, you tended to be in too much pain from cramps to think deeply about his motivations.

Just like now, you were curled up on your bed, figure aching from the intense cramps. Eddie had been busy for the week, running errands for Wayne, and he had no clue that you had started your period. If it was any normal day, walking into your apartment like he owned it would have been fine, but when he found you on your bed it was far from fine.

“Shit, are you okay?” Eddie had asked, rushing over when the coppery smell hit him. You whimpered in pain, his hand coming up to cover his mouth when he inhaled your scent. Shit, he needed to go…but he couldn’t abandon you when you were in this much pain. “Eds,” you said pathetically, peering at him over your pile of pillows you had made into a makeshift nest. “Fuck,” he coughed, eyebrows pinching together in an expression as if he too was wounded. “How can I help?” You shook your head, eyes watery. “I took meds but they didn’t work.” You didn’t want to tell him that half the pain was from cramps and back pain, the other half being that you were so horny you were pulsing beneath your underwear.

Eddie swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the tempting smell in the air when he sat down on the side of your bed. His jaw ached, desperately needing your blood. You instantly curled up to him, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks at the overwhelming feeling of it all. “I can’t do anything,” you sniffled. Eddie’s arm came around, rubbing at the small of your back as you pushed into his fingers, moaning.

He swallowed a groan, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes you can, you’re the strongest person I know. Practically god or something,” he joked to no avail. “I can’t!” You whimpered, getting worked up. “I hurt so much and I can’t even do the one thing I want.” “Which is?” You stilled, eyes widening.

“Nothing,” you grumbled, shoving your face into Eddie’s side. He shook his head, curls bouncing, “Ah-ah. Come here.” His hands slid to grab your face, coaxing it back out. “What is it?” Your lips were pulled into a petulant pout that only made him chuckle more. Finding the humor in the situation helped him ignore the fact he was seconds away from falling to his knees to beg to drink your blood.

“I can’t come, I can’t do anything about it. Everything hurts too much, none of my toys are good.” Eddie sighed sympathetically knowing how you felt, hoping you didn’t see the growing bulge in his jeans. “What if…what if I helped you?” Your wide eyes seemed to somehow look more shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not. You help me all the time.” You laughed, sniffing. “I help you with selling weed, not giving you handjobs.” Eddie shrugged and moved to roll over, propping himself up by your legs. “Same thing.” It was not by any means, but it was pointless to argue with Eddie.

“Are you sure? It’s not pretty...like at all.” Eddie rolled his eyes, looking up at you with an expression as if to say are you serious right now. “Babe, I’m a fucking vampire.” A look of shock passed your face as he reminded you. It made sense now why he left when you were on your period, or least the first few days of it. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Eddie laughed, slipping his scrunchie off his wrist to throw his curls up into a bun. “So you’re doing this for you,” you playfully accused. Eddie grinned wickedly, “I will neither confirm nor deny.” He didn’t have to say it was mainly for you, you already knew, but it was also to relieve the blood lust he was feeling. Rolling your eyes, you maneuvered to lay on your back, keeping your legs bent up to help with the rolling pain in your abdomen.

“Freak.” You taunted him. He simply licked his lips, “Now you’re getting it sweetheart.” His charm was ever present, but the kinder Eddie was now replaced with the wilder version you knew and loved. Eddie laid on his stomach, splaying his arms on your thighs while he studied you for a moment. “What’s good and what’s not?”

He wouldn’t admit that it was his first time he was doing this while his partner was on their period, but he still needed to know what was good. You shifted nervously, halting when Eddie placed a hand on your waist. “Just your mouth please.” Eddie nodded, lowering his mouth to the waistband of your shorts. “So polite.”

His teeth sunk into the elastic, backing up as he slid them down your legs when you witnessed possibly the most beautiful thing on earth. Eddie’s dark eyes rolled as he groaned at the smell of you being further uncovered. You bit your lip, whimpering at his reaction. Unable to wait any longer, his hand pulled your shorts the rest of the way down as he made his way back up your legs.

Eddie hooked his fingers over the edge of your underwear and pulled them down, salivating at the sight of you. Puffy and wet with blood, wiry hair leading to what he so desperately craved. You winced, looking at the sight of your bloody pad, but Eddie didn’t bat an eye, setting it to the side. Having a towel would be smart, but Eddie was never known for his patience.

“Jeez-us sweetheart,” Eddie huffed, lowering back to lay on his stomach, eye level with your sore pussy. If most guys were scared of this he knew they were stupid. Eddie was salivating at the sight, not only because his body was programmed to need blood. He couldn’t help leaning in, the bridge of his nose bumping your sensitive clit as he breathed you in, you smelled even more like yourself now. Your hips jumped as his nose brushed against your clit, his hands pressing your hips back down.

Oh how he wanted to be rough, but he wouldn’t, refused to. Not when you needed him like this. “I’ve got you,” he muttered, opening his eyes to look up at you. Something had shifted in them even if you weren’t entirely sure what it was. His tongue drags over you so slowly, relishing in the taste of your blood. It was a tentative move, figuring out how to not hurt you with his sharp canines.

You gasp out, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through the pain radiating in your gut. Eddie took his time to make sure he was as gentle as he could be, tongue not as sharp as it was when he usually gave head. He couldn’t help how much he was drooling as he swept his tongue through your bloodied labia. It was intoxicating, Eddie’s brain growing clouded as he licked at you.

His eyes fell shut as he fell into a practiced rhythm. You were already so sensitive from being worked up, your period making you tighter than usual. As if he sensed it, Eddie didn’t press his tongue into you, happily licking away at you. The ache deep in the roots of his fangs ebbed away as he got what he needed. It was messy, blood and spit forming a pinkish puddle under you on the sheets, but he didn’t back down.

Eddie started a slow stroke of his tongue from your hole to your clit, working his way up quicker to swirl his tongue over your clit, sending sparks racing up your spine. The heat that was present in your body gives way to a nicer warmth that cradles your body as Eddie eats you out. Your stomach clenches, threatening to hurt like your cramps when Eddie slides a large hand under the small of your back. The slight change in angle lets you relax further, the backs of your knees moving to lay over his shoulders.

Eddie sucks gently at your lips and runs his tongue over every part of you like you’re his life source. Surely he wasn’t going to die from not drinking blood for a week, but your blood was so thick on his tongue, coating the muscle entirely he was sure he would die if he didn’t get enough of you. Your blood was different than the wetness he was used to, it was stronger and there was so, so much of it.

Every instinct in his body pushed him to keep going until there was no more left to get. He slurps away at the mix of slick, blood, and his spit that coats you. When Eddie lifts his head there's a thick coating of blood across his mouth and chin. If you weren’t watching him you would have thought he’d gotten into a fight. “Shit, Eddie.” His eyes immediately snap to yours.

“Say that again.” You whine at the way your cunt tightens, “Eddie.” He groans, lowering his head again, tongue flicking over your entrance. Your cunt tingles, abdomen pulling tight from his movements. “Fuck, Eds,” you continued spurring him on with your whines.

Eddie’s messy when he eats you up, blood smeared across your mound and thighs. You didn’t doubt that he’d clean it up with his tongue later, body shuddering at the thought of him sucking your thighs clean. Your body subtly bends up, gentle bucks of your hips following his ministrations.

The sparks at the base of your spine lick their way into your abdomen as your body tenses further. Squeezing your eyes shut, you keen. “Eddie, I'm close. Don’t you dare stop.” Eddie chuckles into you, knowing how serious you are. He didn’t dare consider stopping when he was about to watch his favorite person come.

Overwhelming pleasure bursts in you like fireworks, silent screams on your lips as you come. Eddie was only spurred on, working you through it as your cum pushes your blood farther into his mouth. He wiggles his tongue from side to side, greedily sucking up every last drop that you released. Salt mixed with copper on his tongue, melting into a satisfying concoction.

Eddie finally pulls away when you cry out at the overstimulation, air cooling his bloodstained lips as air hits your cunt at the same time. He merely grins, teeth stained red. “You look like a mess,” you laugh as he licks his lips. He shrugs, not caring about your insults when he can still taste you on your tongue. “Only because of you.” You smile, hand falling to your abdomen where your cramps have significantly lessened.

“Did it work?” Eddie asks in a muffled voice, eyes on your gut while he sucks on the fingers that wiped his chin clean. Snickering, you nod. “Good,” he boasts, fingers leaving his mouth. “Next time you need help again, ask.” You roll your eyes, “Who says there’s a next time?”

Eddie was too sure of himself and you were too stubborn to admit that he was right. “Like you’ll turn me away,” he snorts, tracing his hand along your sides. “You’re right…I pity you too much.” Eddie grins. “Whatever gets me into your bed,” His fangs nipped at your messy thigh, a smug look on his face.

“Idiot.”

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala, @dreamerjj

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson friends to lovers #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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kwillow · 2 months ago

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Hello there! I discovered your blog not too long ago and just want to say I am enamored with your character designs and world building! Call me basic, but I'm quite fond of Theo; which begs the question: since Theo's mom is an ermine and his dad is a rat, is he technically a hybrid? Or is he genetically speaking a "pure" rat? If not, are there any physical traits that might separate from a typical rat? Pardon the numerous questions; love your work!

Interesting question! Putting Theo and his his father side-by-side can help elucidate this. Leonard is what you'd call a "normal" rat, but Theo isn't a normal anything.

Comparing the two, Theo has some ermine-like traits: his ears are slightly fuzzy instead of bald, and he has sharp, carnivorous teeth in addition to his more ratlike incisors. Of course, he a variety of other odd attributes, which make it harder to discern if these anomalous features are due to hybridization precisely or myriad other genetic quirks.

Theo has many peculiarities that aren't hybrid traits, but a mix of congenital health conditions (his supernumerary teeth and dwarfism, for example) and what I'd call "basal traits," sort of animalistic throwback features that people usually lack (his more backwards-shifted foramen magnum, which gives him a slightly hunched posture when upright, or his lack of hair). He's also just kind of ugly. These things separate him not just from your "typical" rat-people, but most people in general.

To circle back and answer your question: Theo wasn't identified as a hybrid when he was born, even though you could make the argument that he qualifies. Though hybrids don't face the same degree of stigma in the modern era as they did in the time of the Old Kingdoms, they do still face some scrutiny. Leonard and Jo could get away with identifying Theo as "just" a rat since his other more blatant issues obfuscate any hybridization, which frees him of at least one potentially embarrassing label when he already has plenty stacked on him.

That said, even if he goes along with the non-hybrid label, Theo secretly prefers thinking of himself as having hybridized ermine traits. Probably more of them than he actually has. It's a mommy issue/daddy issue thing.

#i would say that considering what a weirdo he is - liking theo isn't basic. it is ADVANCED #advanced WHAT exactly - i don't know #theo #this isn't an accurate height different for them btw - theo only comes up to leonard's shoulder #also having two different species as parents doesn't guarantee hybrid offspring - leonard has one rat parent and one non-rat parent #and he is “just” a rat - most people born from different-species parents just take after one species-wise #ALSO another tell of some hybrids -- poor health -- also fails to identify theo as one because the Norths are sickly people in general #asks #amaranthine #my draws

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yestrday · 4 months ago

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I just, househusband Zhongli crumbs, I beg, everything you write is just gold ❤️❤️❤️

househusband zhongli is everything to me :((( i wanna go home and see him in an apron with his fancy liyue cuisine all ready for me uhuhuhu....

you might like: yandere! genshin malewives + zhongli

🐲 yandere! malewife zhongli

his biggest red flag is spending big amounts of money behind your back and not even realizing what he's done wrong unless you jam it into that thick skull of his. he'll be explaining to you why buying that noctiluous jade is a worthwhile endeavor till you hit him with the 'and????!!! what do we even need a noctiluous jade for!' and he opens his mouth and closes it when he finally thinks.

when he sees you overworking yourself, he gently closes the laptop and guides you towards the bed. it hurts his heart to see you so tired. look at your eyebags! just terrible. he tucks you into bed and makes you wait as he brings over the pot of tea he's been boiling for over an hour now.

a lot of the neighborhood grannies fawn over him like they're back to being little schoolgirls. sometimes when you come home early from work you'll see zhongli sat on the porch giving a history lecture with that buttery voice of his while the grannies are crowded around him with shy smiles, giggling behind their fans.

gets really moody when he smells someone's perfume on you. he tries his best to not let his jealousy steep into his interactions with you, but you can tell something's up when his normally gentle voice is suddenly clipped and curt with you.

has a black belt in karen. he's stated multiple times that he's more than willing to... approach your boss to have a civil one-on-one chat with him about your working conditions. these musings of his happen every time he sees you stumbling into the house, just barely delirious.

doesn't pay others much attention. whenever the two of you are on dates, his attention is on you and you only. he'll acknowledge their presence when needed be, but everything else slips by him when you're just too endearing not to look away from.

you don't trust him on groceries, not when you think that he might come home with high-end brands instead of sticking to the budget. the two of you often go grocery shopping together, and you have to drag him to the normal supermarket and not the all-organic alternative sitting right beside it.

is strangely eager when it comes to giving gifts to your nephews and nieces, should you have any. christmas and birthdays are the only times you'll give in to zhongli's overspending because he always hits you with the 'those children only deserve the very best...!' so you feel guilty. you can see how gentle his eyes are whenever he holds one of the little ones in his arms or how he quietly anticipates their happy little smiles whenever they unbox your gifts.

after that, he always muses about wanting to have a family of his own... while giving you one of those looks. mmm1. those family reunions always leave you sore the day after. not because of the reunion itself, but rather, what they've brought on after.

#yester.au — househusband 💍#yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #yandere x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere zhongli #yester.shorts

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sara-roz · 1 month ago

Text

!! DONT SKIP !! donations urgently needed

They are only at €66,072 out of €100,000 goal

I've donated €30, so please match me if you can and reblog with a screenshot ‼️ Let's keep going‼️

My friend Dina, Ahmed's wife, is reaching out for help to save her family and promote their campaign. Dina is 30 years old and lives in Gaza with her husband Ahmed, who is 36, and their children: Zeina (8 years old), Eileen (7 years old), Yamen (5 years old), and baby Ronza (4 months old). Imagine if it were your own family member, friend, or child who should be enjoying school or playing with friends, but instead, they are hiding from bombs and relying on the kindness of strangers to survive. This family has been suffering for more than a year due to the relentless siege and devastation. You are their only chance to find safety and hope for a better future. Please help by sharing their campaign and spreading the word.

This fundraiser has been vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi - #264 on the vetted Gaza fundraiser list,

Also verified by butterflyeffect.project (# 741) & this fundraiser is vetted by @gazavetters , #213 on the spreadsheet here

(drawing above by @/anonymous ), On the occasion of his young son Yamen's birthday anniversary.

Dina's daughter, Ronza, is not even four months old, yet she suffers from malnutrition after spending her short life in the midst of war. Yamen, five years old, is also struggling with illnesses and malnutrition due to the harsh conditions. There is no greater nightmare for any father than to see his children starving and sick, unable to do anything to help. Please help Dina save his children and bring them to safety. Every child deserves security and nourishment, and you can be the hope that rescues Ronza and Yamen, giving them the childhood they deserve, far from the sound of bombs.

Their Husband Ahmed suffers from a severe herniated disc that prevents him from moving normally or holding his children in his arms. Additionally, he has another illness that he refuses to disclose, which only adds to his suffering. In Gaza, the medical resources available for his treatment are inadequate, and every day that passes without proper care increases his pain and the anxiety his family endures. He urgently needs to receive treatment and travel abroad before his condition worsens further. Your assistance in raising funds means not just alleviating his pain but saving a father who is desperately trying to remain by his children's and family's side. Don't let this family, who has already endured so much loss, also lose their father, husband, and sole support.

Dina has shown me pictures of the explosion near them, and thankfully, they managed to escape in time. Every day they spend in Gaza puts their lives at risk from Israeli bombs. Every day and hour counts. I know there are compassionate and kind people willing to help. Every euro helps, and your donation will bring them one step closer to safety. With love and hope, I ask you to give what you can. I believe in the kindness of people in this world, and I beg you not to let his family die. If you can’t donate, please share this message so it may reach those who can help.

Never forget that palestinians are not numbers on a list of deaths. Please think of each of them, think of their names and faces and know that you can help them. I think of them every day. I think of the hopes and dreams they should achieve, I think of their education, their future, and the love they show when they work hard every day to get help. You may feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you have the power to save Dina and his family.

I dream that the day will come soon where they may use their days to rest and recover from what they’ve been through, where they can share a meal and laugh and the children will play, instead of having to use their time to beg the world to listen and help them. We can make this possible.

9,000 euros is a lot of money for one person to give, but for all of us together, it can be done. Please don’t look away.

Thank you for reading their story. Please don’t keep scrolling without sharing

Here is the link again for their fundraiser

tagging for reach:

@90-ghost @heritageposts @tamamita @neechees @valtsv @fluoresensitive @khanger @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @furiousfinnstan @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @ot3 @strangeauthor @pcktknife @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoods @ree-duh @neptunerings @explosionshark @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @greetings-fiends @malcriada @turtletoria @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @officialspec @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @toesuckingoctober @sabertoothwalrus

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inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 5 months ago

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Hey,

could you write a Hannibal one-shot (platonic), where he somehow becomes friends (FBI work) with a teenager, who has a dark sense of humor and overall quite to his liking, but is harmless?

Hannibal X Platonic!Reader: The friends we make along the way

Warnings: murder, death, talks of trauma, crime scenes, teenagers being teenagers, Hannibal being annoyed by you, no use of y/n, not proofread, gn reader.

Word count: 1K

“What can you tell me about the person in the picture?”

“Well, they’re dead.”

Hannibal closed his eyes, his hand moving to put pressure on his brow bone. He knew you were being annoying on purpose. He didn't know why he expected for you to be different from any other teenager he’d ever met. Perhaps the fact that you'd been through a traumatic event. But then again who hadn't.

All though he was sure usual people's traumatic events weren't anything like yours. Normal people don't find themselves in a situation where they have to stab their best friend to death. When he’d first met you you’d been covered in blood. Your eyes were wide and you had a knife in your hand. You stuttered something out but Hannibal hadn't quite understood what you were saying. It was only later, on the drive to the FBI, that he’d realized you had said: I didn’t want to.

They’d been trying to catch the killers for days and you've managed to kill him with a kitchen knife. The whole experience sent you into a bad place mentally. You’d never hurt anyone before and finding out your best friend of ten years had been killing people who matched your appearance as a tribute to you was difficult to process. The FBI ruled it off as self defense and they let you go but not without suggesting you seek therapy. Hannibal had been of great comfort to you so it was only neutral you requested him as your physiatrist.

Hannibal tapped on the images on the table.

“I’m serious. You want to become an agent, you need to be able to find the clues.”

“Hannibal no offense but I doubt this is going to help me get into the academy.”

You walked over to his ladder, hanging yourself on it with one hand.

“Plus wouldn't it be better if Will was helping me with this. Since, you know, he works for the FBI.”

“Will works for the FBI because his condition gives him something they consider valuable he-”

“Can go into the killers mind. Yeah yeah I know. You’ve only told me that about a thousand times.”

Hannibal steeled himself. Gosh he did not have patience for children. He sat down on his desk watching you continue to swing on his ladder.

“Be careful you’ll end up hurting yourself.

“Okay Dad.”

The annoyance was clear in your voice. You hopped off the ladder landing on the floor with a dramatic flair.

“See i’m fine.”

Hannibal watched you walk over to his drawings taking them in. You’d always liked art and Hannibal was quite good. Since your first session Hannibal noticed you had trouble staying still. He didn;t mind it as long as you managed to focus. Something that was proving rather difficult at the moment.

“Did you always wanna be a psychiatrist?”

“No. I was a surgeon before.”

“What made you stop? Did you kill someone or something?”

An uneasy silence filled the room. You had a morbid sense of humor which often made people uncomfortable but Hannibal had never seemed to mind it. So when you felt the atmosphere shift upon your words you could tell you’d said something that had upset him. You turned around, catching the sullen look in Hannibal's eyes.

“Shit Hannibal. I’m sorry i shouldn’t have joked-”

“It’s fine. You didn;t know. And it was a long time ago.”

You fiddled with your hands, suddenly feeling on edge. You knew you had to change the topic.

“It’s the bite marks.”

Hannibal raised his head, giving you a curious look.

“I beg your pardon?”

“That's how they caught the killer.”

You walked over to the opposite side of the desk. You leaned over the various crime scene photos until you found the one you wanted. You raised the picture up so that Hannibal could see it. Your finger moved to point out the clear bite mark in one of the victims legs.

“He didn;t let himself bite the other ones but he lost control with this one. He let the animal take over and that was his mistake.”

Hannibal gave you a proud smile.

“Well done.”

“I’m smarter than I look.”

“Well then you must be quite the genius.”

You beamed at him taking in his words as a complement.

“Coming from you that high praise.”

“Only telling the truth.”

You helped Hannibal gather the pictures off his desk, placing them neatly inside a folder. Jack had allowed Hannibal to borrow the evidence so he could work it out with you but he needed to give it back. Even though the case had been closed it was still FBI property. You glanced at the clock seeing the time.

“Well my ride should be here any minute. Walk me out?”

“Of course.”

Hannibal walked behind you, both of you moving towards the door. He opened it for you and you gave him an exaggerated bow of thanks. Hannibal watched you pick up your bag from one of the chairs.

“We still on for dinner with Will next week?”

“Yes.”

“You sure you don’t want me to bring anything.”

“Your company is more than enough.”

“Well that's going to go straight to my ego.”

You laughed causing Hannibal to smile. You thought about it for a second before moving forward and giving Hannibal a hug. Despite the slight surprise Hannibal wound his arms around you returning the gesture. He caressed your head for a moment before you pulled away. You gave him one last smile before turning to go out the door.

“See you later alligator.”

Your foot was out the door and Hannibal remained silent. You turned to face him, using your hip to keep the door open.

“Come on! You’re not gonna leave me hanging are you?”

Hannibal let out a deep sigh, shaking his head briefly before looking at you.

“After a while, crocodile.”

You grinned at him.

“See that wasn’t so hard.”

A honk came from outside telling you your ride was here. You gave Hannibal a small wave as you exited. He watched the door close behind you. He’d never expected to become friends with a teenager but you’d surprised him. And in a positive way at that.

#hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter #hannibal tv show #nbc hannibal #hannibal #mads mikkleson #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #mads mikkelsen x reader #mads x reader #mads mikkelsen #murder family

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 5 months ago

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Funny valentine: (name) please..i love you so much that it physically hurts me, please accept my love, (name)...

Reader: don't you have a wife?? 🤨

Funny valentine: i don't know what you're talking about..

Proceeds to write on a divorce paper and immediately sends it to scarlet

Saved this for today since it’s the 4th of July.

Reader: *gets Scarlet to try and convince her husband to not divorce her* *you even plead how good of a couple they are, she knows him better than you do*

*proceed to butter her up too much*

Scarlet: I like your spirit, but it’s cute you think you can run off just like that. You won’t get married outside of myself or my husband , he won’t allow it. I could shield you, that’s the best thing you have right now. Reader: *looks at Scarlet freaked out* I- I can’t possibly stay here…

Scarlet: *expression softens she’s totally enamored with you* You still want to run anyway? I won’t stop you, *she proceeds to pull out a small piece of paper to write on it* “however, I have something in mind…”

she hums a short moment later sliding said bit of paper to you.

Scarlet instructs you to go to this address and that someone will be there to help you.

Scarlet: I’ll propose something to my husband, a wager of finding you. We’ll work separately,

Reader: that sounds insane!

Scarlet: Not as insane as you running away without a plan, this is the federal government we’re talking about here dear y/n. If my husband is head over heels for you as you describe then you’re doomed from the start.

She hurt to see the look of defeat on your face, the way you were vulnerable right in front of her. No wonder her husband liked you,

Whether you liked it or not, this probably was the greatest chance at freedom you had. But you couldn’t help but feel you were only marginally safer with Scarlet than Funny Valentine. Shakily you accepted her offer and she guided you out of her room and out the building. Making sure not a single guard would see you.

Funny Valentine later approaches her asking where dearest y/n went. Scarlet: Let’s talk about that shall we? *She gestures at the divorce papers* I’ll protect y/n one way or another as best as I can, to give them a chance to run away from you. They’re so cute I couldn’t stand to just squash their sense of hope right in front of them. I know how you work after all dear,

Funny Valentine : *His eyes furrow looking at his current wife in front of him* Are you trying to suggest something here?

Scarlet : *Nodding confidently* See normally I’d be upset at such an announcement you handed me, but something about seeing y/n coming through the door and begging me to talk some sense into you, stirred certain emotions within me. They listed everything about how I knew you so thoroughly like a lovely wife should, they paid attention…

Her fingers tapped on a nearby table she was leaning on

“I’d like to propose a wager on y/n, I’ll help her from my side, not once do you interfere in my end. However, you can continue looking for her however you see fit outside of that. If you find them, I’ll gladly sign the divorce papers you have served me…”

Funny Valentine : then I presume we’d stay married as long as they’re still on the run.

Scarlet : Either way, it works out for both of us. I won’t be having them marry anyone else, I’ll likely have them come back somewhere around this area, if I win. Not “here” so to speak, if they hold out long enough.

Funny Valentine: I’m sensing a time limit as another condition to potentially win.

Scarlet: more so for me to fall back on, but yes, about a year should do it. If I manage that I get to do what I see fit with them, as I suggested moments ago, with moving them back here. You’d still get to see y/n even, you have the simple restriction of being unable to marry them

If you manage to foil me and find them first, then they’re all yours my lovely husband.

Funny Valentine : So interesting��.and such a clever way to torture me. Yet, a fitting punishment.

Scarlet: Are you’re changing your mind on this? You can just let them go and everything would be fine

Funny Valentine : *shaking his head* No, it’s the opposite I agree to your terms, testing me on my desire for y/n. Perhaps even you’re testing yourself here, I find it fascinating…

*In your desperation to run away you somehow made everything worse for yourself*

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere imagines #yandere jjba imagines #yandere jjba x reader #yandere headcanons #jjba imagines #yandere funny valentine #yandere scarlet valentine #yandere scneario #yandere drabble #yandere jojo’s bizarre adventure #yandere jojo x reader

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notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago

Text

Him

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Part 3 of Mean!Joel coming straight to ya. This is a big mishmash of emotions, I’m sorry, but something has to lead to part 4.

Summary: You find a dress during a supplies run but Joel doesn’t give a shit about you looking nice for him.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), dub-con and mentions of non-con, dirty talk, painful and rough PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, fingering, pussy slapping

Word count: 4.1k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48179338/chapters/121494847

Him

There’s the distinct smell of mold and old basement in the abandoned apartment complex. Joel has told you to stay close to him, but as soon as he tells you that the place is clear, you wander off and he grumbles something about it being your funeral.

“Only what’s necessary,” he had said on the way up the stairs, still clutching onto his rifle as if something could come out of the shadows any second despite your thorough investigation of the place.

You go through each room of your selected condo, but there is nothing interesting to be found. There had been a convenience store last week which had been picked over except for a few toothbrushes. You had given the toothbrushes to a couple of the kids back at Jackson, but still been bummed that you have yet to find something that you can take home just for yourself. Last month, some of the other women had found a box of old 2000s clothes and you had been disappointed at not having been there with them as they chose whatever they wanted. You are still empty-handed.

That is, until now.

In the master bedroom, you go through the clothes that whoever used to live here has left behind. It isn’t a particularly thrilling closet, but you think it almost feels like shopping as you push the hangers to the side along the metal bar one by one. Everything has been eaten by moths.

“Find anything?” Joel pops his head through the door, walks closer a second after to see what you are doing. He rolls his eyes, “Find anything of importance?”

You give him a pointed look, but he just returns it.

“These are boring anyw—“ you stop at a garment that’s wrapped in a protective travel bag made of plastic. It makes you raise a brow, unzipping the front of the garment bag only to reveal a short, expensive-looking cocktail dress. You pull it off its hanger and hold it up in front of you, “I think this is my size.”

“Yippee,” he deadpans, but you see him glancing down at the garment and you hope that he is imagining you in it, “I said only useful things.”

“You actually said necessary,” you remind him and he scoffs, shifts, and turns away from you. Anyone who witnesses your interaction will never guess that you are sleeping together, but you like the fact that you despise him outside of the bedroom. It makes it even more fun and satisfying when he finally gives in to come fuck you.

You feel the satin fabric between your fingers. It’s in good condition, having been saved from moths by being packed away in a plastic garment bag. It’s a classic little black dress where the hem stops just above the knees and the slit in the side leaves just enough for the imagination. You hook your fingers into the spaghetti straps and watch the way the fabric falls around the chest area. It’s very simple and elegant, and nothing like anything you’ve ever owned, “I like it. I’m taking it with me.”

“Whatever,” Joel says after a sigh.

You stuff the dress into your bag, determined to restore it to its former glory.

Joel never tells you when he will stop by and you don’t ask in case it will come off as begging for his attention. Despite this, you have a hunch of his intention to have his way with you whenever he starts acting differently around you; looks at you whenever he thinks you aren’t paying attention to him, ravishing you with his eyes that get just a little bit darker than when he normally glances your way.

Additionally, he gets more short-tempered with your never-ending snark, and you swear that today you could see his hand twitch by his side as if he was desperate to yank you away from the rest, itching to grab whatever he could in that moment even if it meant pulling you back to your place by your hair. It had really set your next encounter in stone when you’d called him a caveman without the others hearing. The rest of the day had been him fidgeting like crazy.

You know that he doesn’t realize these tells, because he’d never give you the satisfaction of having him figured out, but oh how you wish that his stupid, overly aggressive behavior is deliberate and all for you.

You look at yourself in the bedroom mirror after sliding on the dress, knowing you’ll see him soon because he is a man of habit and you’re his vice.

It is rare that you see yourself dressed up like this, but the butterflies that you feel in your stomach as you gaze at your reflection make you certain that Joel will like this in just the right way.

At that, the butterflies move down between your legs where you are not wearing anything to cover you. You dip your hand between your thighs, pushing the fabric inwards, and it over your mound. You try to tell yourself that you’ve skipped the underwear because it would be visible underneath the fabric of the dress, but you know the real reason is him. You hate yourself for hating him to the point where he floods your mind whenever he isn’t here.

You want to pull the dress up over your hips, rub your clit that’s throbbing in anticipation, but instead, you just wait.

When your waiting comes to an end, you hear Joel violently open the front door downstairs, ripping at the handle and calling your name multiple times to which you do not respond. There’s always a game here; where it had started out being a real refusal of him, it has turned into something else. The moment he had made you come the first time, you knew there was no going back to what was before. Now, you enjoy the cat-and-mouse act where you want him to corner you.

Joel looks tense and impatient when he steps into your bedroom, but he doesn’t say anything for you to read the tone of his voice. He is aggressively shrugging off his jacket, biting into a leather glove’s fingertip to pull it off his hand before moving to the other and doing the same.

The gloves suggest that he has worked late today and not showered as you have, that he has taken his frustrations towards you out on hard labor but to no avail; he has still walked in here, too turned on to pass your house on his way home.

His outerwear ends up on the floor beside him and then he stalks after you. He is hard in his jeans, his eyes cold and black with desire, and for some reason, you find yourself backing away just because he still hasn’t opened his mouth.

“Get the fuck back here,” he seethes. He grabs your arm and pulls, too fast for you as you try to take another step away, “Why didn’t you come when I called ya?”

“Sorry, I-I…”

“You come when I call. Full stop,” he traps you against your bedroom wall and doesn’t acknowledge the dress whatsoever. The hand on your arm slides up until it rests at your throat, squeezing without doing too much damage to your windpipe whilst he examines your face. He needs you to talk, “Do you understand?”

His nostrils flare whilst you nod frantically. The grip on your throat has you lightheaded, but you think that you might want it like this, to be just on the edge of getting tunnel vision so you can see only him. He looks beautiful like this, you think, angry like a God, but your thoughts are interrupted and you moan as he shakes you a little.

“Words, use ‘em, you fuckin’ bimbo.”

“Yes, I understand,” you croak, but he mustn’t think that you give in so easily. There are a million snarky comments to select from in your head, but he doesn’t give you time to choose your favorite when he makes you cough as he lets go of your neck.

“You needa take this stupid fuckin’ dress off or I’ll rip it to pieces. You know I will,” he growls, and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying something to spite him. Something to hurt his huge masculine ego and compare him to a Neanderthal. So much for looking nice for his pleasure.

Additionally, so much for scrubbing the fabric of the dress you had found in the abandoned condo until your hands were raw. In the end, it doesn’t surprise you that he doesn’t give a damn because he hadn’t even been enthusiastic when you had shown it to him during your supplies patrol together. You’d hoped that it had just been because he hadn’t seen you in it.

With a sour expression, you yank at the straps and Joel lets out a condescending huff of a laugh as he watches. You slide the straps off your shoulders and down your arms until you can pull at the top of the dress to guide it down your body. When it reaches the swell of your hips, you wiggle your ass until it pools at your feet. Joel goes quiet at the realization that you’ve gone commando.

“You were prepared, huh? Easy fuckin’ access. All I had to do was just pull it up over your ass, but ya wanted me to find out like this,” Joel tuts, immediately placing a foot between your feet. Gross, you think to yourself at hearing those words but you also realize, with the way that your walls flutter in a delicious clench of your cunt, that you like gross. Joel holds a hand out, and you get ready for the worst, but he simply cups your whole mound in his enormous hand, “Filthy girl, I fuck you that good? So good you wanna be ready for cock like that?”

All confidence seeps out of you in an instant, because fuck, he is touching you and you almost forget how much it turns you into a little obedient dog. You gasp and find yourself pathetically nodding in an aroused state that has taken hold of you so quickly that you are feeling dizzy. You think, perhaps, that it has something to do with how it felt the last time the two of you were together. You don’t think you’ve ever come so many times in a row, kicking your legs, crying and screaming in pleasure as he reveled in your painful oversensitivity. He had promised that it would hurt, and it did, deliciously, for several days afterward. You miss being able to have a reminder of him with every step you take.

You realize now that the dress probably came off as a laughable attempt at making him have his wicked way with you once more instead of pleasing him.

Pleasing him.

Pleasing. Him.

Fuck.

Two thick fingers press into you and the ability to elaborate on the thought of wanting to do something nice for him disappears. Instead, you keen loudly and throw yourself back into the wall with a thump. He sinks his digits knuckle-deep into your sex, and it hurts because he doesn’t give you time to adjust.

You furrow your brows, looking down at where the heel of his hand is pushing into your clit. You take what you can get to soothe the stretch of your pussy, grinding your hips into his palm with a mewl. Your mouth hangs open in an o-shape and you’re already panting for him, desperate to come as he harshly takes his annoyance out on your g-spot. His fingers are warm inside of you from the gloves despite how he has just come from the outside, and they drag deliciously outwards along your walls again and again.

It makes you come with a soft cry not long after. He settles his fingers inside of your cunt as you clamp down on them, a gush of your arousal dripping down into his palm as you shake and try to hold yourself up.

Joel laughs at the dazed look in your eyes when you come down. He thrusts his fingers inside of you once more without warning before removing them altogether, smirking at the gasp you let out from being empty so soon again.

“Joel.”

You don’t know why you’re saying his name, but it makes him go a little softer. He still has his hand between your legs, fingers slowly sliding back and forth through your slick folds. It feels good, your hips stuttering each time the pads of his fingers slip across your clit, “Ya want more, sweetheart? Tell me what ya want. Ain’t that hard to use your words.”

“I missed you,” you dare to breathe because it’s true. Although it’s not so much him as it is the way he makes you feel between your legs.

He brings down his hand on your pulsing mound and clit. It makes you nearly fall to your knees but he catches you, wrapping his strong arms around you as you slump against him. It’s the post-orgasmic sensitivity that’s making it hurt like you didn’t know it could, and suddenly you have tears in your eyes from the stinging heat the slap has left. You quickly blink them away because he spits abuse at you, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of making you come and then cry, “Shut the fuck up. Don’t give me any of that pussy shit.”

It’s a weird contrast to being held, but you suppose that he can’t fuck you if you fall face-first into the wooden floorboards and earn yourself a bad concussion. You wouldn’t put it past him though, knowing he’d probably laugh at the gibberish that you’d blabber as you came on his dick without being able to recall it the next day.

Joel carries you in his arms, drags your feet across the floor until he can throw you onto your bed. You lie on top of the covers and look at him with glazed eyes, watching him unbuckle his belt and shove his jeans down impatiently. He undresses the rest of himself in a hurry, showing little mercy for the flannel he is wearing as he nearly pops off its buttons. It seems like a chase to get to you, but Joel has no opponents, and he’ll never have any.

“If ya can’t use your mouth for anything other than soundin’ like a little girl begging for my attention, then you might as well have it put to other use,” he says matter-of-factly. He kneels onto the bed then, crawls forward on his knees, and settles one on either side of your head.

His dick impressively stands into the air, an angry red color to the head that begs for touch and threatens to drip with precome. It’s never felt more inviting to suck him off, even despite the obvious unease that you’d felt the last time that he had had his dick in your mouth.

When the bead of precome finally becomes too big and slides down his length, you respond by greedily letting your mouth fall open. He slides the fat head past your lips. The girth of him already has your jaw aching, but you take him in as far as you can and use your fist for what doesn’t fit. Your wrist twists as you work him in unison with your mouth.

You set up a slow pace, bobbing your head despite the knowledge of how strained your neck will be in the morning when you are lying down like this. The strain is worth it all though, because you earn a moan from him. It tells you exactly how you’re doing; it’s low and guttural above you. Your pussy screams for more.

With your lips closed around him, you suck him off in earnest to get another reaction. You hollow your cheeks whenever you draw off of him, and whilst you’re at the tip, you run the flat of your tongue along the sensitive underside.

Not that it should surprise you at this point, but no matter how hard you try to start slow and steady, Joel becomes enthusiastic about his own pleasure very quickly and it leaves very little empathy for you. He thrusts forwards, practically burying his cock down your windpipe and you immediately start to shed big, wet tears.

“Fuck,” he moans quietly into the room. He stares down at you, one large hand cupping your cheek to hold you in place if you try to squirm away. Your tears slide down over the back of his hand, but he doesn’t comment on it.

Your whimper vibrates along his hard length as he starts using your throat. With his generous size, it’s hard to breathe without choking. The air simply won’t go down your lungs in the way this overwork on your body demands. It causes you to drool, slicking his dick as spit pools in your mouth. It begins to dribble down your chin, his balls smacking wetly against it.

You’re a complete and utter mess beneath him with your nose buried in his happy trail. You take his brutal stabs to the back of your throat in stride and relax your neck muscles to take him as far as humanly possible.

His free hand curls around your hair. Occasionally, he pulls it instead of moving his hips. Your head swims, your tears flow and your throat continuously gags with obscenely wet noises. He is so noisy above you. It keeps focus on your throbbing clit instead of your pained jaw.

From his breathing, you can hear that Joel is getting closer to coming. He gets a little louder, hips stuttering and dick pulsing just a bit more on your tongue. He suddenly pulls back with a force that tells you that he has used every fiber of self-restraint to do it. You didn’t think that his caveman behavior would make him able to edge himself.

“Shit, that was too close,” he grits out between pants, moving back on you again until he is between your legs. He squeezes around the base of his cock whilst you cough violently.

“Can’t handle a little deep-throating?” You tease hoarsely.

“Fuck you,” he snaps, mercilessly pulling your legs apart by reaching behind himself and grabbing your ankles. He digs his nails into your legs as he slides his hands upward again, smacks one of your thighs aggressively, jiggling the flesh after.

“Yes, please,” you moan at the tiny sting he has caused to your upper leg, “Please, Joel. Fuck me.”

“Turn around,” he commands.

“But I wanna see you,” you start but it sounds way too sugary, “-r face when you come inside me.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t wanna see ya,” he says with little affection, drawing a circle in the air, “Do as you’re told and turn around. I can leave if—“

“No!” You protest a little too quickly. It earns you a smug smile that tells you Joel’s ego has grown three sizes in a mere second. God, you despise how needy he makes you.

You move onto your front, lying flat on your belly. You turn your face to the side, grabbing at whatever of the sheets you can curl your fingers into. Joel shuffles behind you, reaches for your hips to angle your pelvis and you help him by bending your knees and pushing your legs out to the sides.

Suddenly, his crushing weight is on top of you so he can whisper filth in your ear and keep you on the verge of insanity as you wait for him. You let out a soft sound as air is knocked out of your lungs and you feel like your pelvis might snap in half. It helps that his lips attach to the space where your neck meets your shoulder, biting more than sucking.

“Gonna make ya cream yourself on my dick, honey,” he promises with confidence in his voice, still high on his ego trip from before. Your body responds with several somersaults in your lower abdomen, your pussy clenching at its emptiness and demand for more.

“Oh fuck, Joel, n-need you to make it hurt… till I can’t breathe, baby.”

“Yeah?” He stretches again, gets comfortable on his knees, and jiggles the flesh of your behind before smacking your ass hard. He spreads your cheeks to spit down the cleft of your ass, watching it run down over your puckered hole and further down over your pussy. It earns you a groan, “This pussy is so ready for me. Look at it drippin’.”

Then you feel him pushing into you with brutal force until you can do nothing else, but mewl weakly. It feels like he is splitting you open right down the middle of your lower body, rough hands holding you in place by your waist.

He never fails to give you exactly what you ask for. Even despite this, you put on a show of trying to crawl away from him and you’re rewarded by another hard slap to your ass. Joel moans as it makes you clench around him.

“You stay right here where I want ya,” he growls, setting up a rhythm that makes you want to sob. He is bruising you to the point where your eyes water, filling you to the brim with every thrust and slamming the fat head of his cock into your front wall where his little favorite spot is. When you whine loudly and wantonly, he laughs darkly, “Greedy little whore. You’re fucking shameless, ain’t you? Don’t even try— fuck. You don’t even try to hide how much you want it.”

“Yes, fuck Joel, keep going,” you egg him on as your g-spot is getting the treatment it needs to make you scream. You arch your back a little by lifting your head from the mattress, and Joel takes it as an opportunity to slide his right hand around the front of your throat until he can contort your body to accept each hard thrust without slipping away.

The new angle makes you grip the sheets so hard that you think you might tear the fabric. Fuck it, you think, they’re old ones anyway, and with the way that you are gushing around Joel’s dick, you think you might just throw them out after this. There’s no way you’re going to give them the same treatment as the dress if no one will appreciate it.

Joel’s hand moves up to cup your whole jaw. His other hand is bound to leave a mark on your hip bone, bracing himself on it as he pounds you until he can feel tears run down over the fingers on your chin. He kisses your back, slides his tongue up to your shoulder where he plants a wet kiss. It helps with staying focused and soothes you a little as he relentlessly moves inside of you.

He tilts your head back afterward, moves his hips a little forwards without slipping out to tower over your body. His thumb drags down on your chin, leaving your mouth a little open.

And then he kisses you for the first time ever, right on your open mouth whilst bottoming out over and over inside of your cunt right where you need him the most. You melt into his lips, delirious with pleasure that’s sending you closer to the edge and pain that’s going to linger for a few days.

But it’s neither the pain nor pleasure that unravels you in his arms. It’s the fact that you are being allowed something so intimate from him, causing tears to spill as he tears down the pleasure that he’s built inside of your belly. You come with a feeble sob, clamping down on his cock which feels bigger now that your cunt is quivering with pleasurable shocks.

It’s too much for him. He thrusts a few times more before his hips stutter. He buries himself inside your pussy, the tip of his dick nudging your cervix. You feel his warm load fill you up, wet squelches echoing through your quiet bedroom as he fucks you through his aftershocks.

Your thighs are aching, your fingers too. Your cunt is a whole other story, painfully sensitive as he pulls out with a moan and rolls off of you.

It doesn’t matter. Absolutely none of it matters. Not a single fucking thing matters besides the way that he is pulling you down onto his chest, still kissing you on the lips, roughly in the beginning, but slowly now that his energy is spent.

After a while, he starts to move.

“No,” you whine, “Stay. Please.”

“I can’t,” he mumbles, “That ain’t how this works.”

He leaves ten minutes later, but you ache more from heartbreak than the bruises that have started to form on your skin.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #my writing #the last of us #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #mean!joel

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iwonderwh0 · 1 year ago

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Toxic codependent coworkers (more like sentimentally attached. I really tried but it didn't turn out toxic, but rather everything but)

(AU where Hank and Connor work as partners for years(or at least months) prior to revolution, and not on deviancy cases)

Despite being an android Connor has apparent lack of respect to Hank's superiority status, and at first it drives Hank nuts. He thinks he must be broken and fills the form for condition tests, but they come back normal, and as Hank finds out he's pretty much the only one having problems in making his android partner listen to his commands. After that Connor becomes even more annoying, as if specifically messing with Hank.

Hank, spends month begging to be partnered with someone else. Finally gets his wish granted and for one case he gets partnered with someone who is actually listening to him with respect and doesn't do or say weird shit. And it feels so off and boring that the next week or even day all he does is quietly asks to get Connor back.

This change made him aware that although sometimes annoying, his work has become much more fun and bearable with the presence of this specific android in it. It actually helps him forget things and distracts him enough from his regular thoughts for him to almost feel like fully-functional human again. Despite how much he hates overtime work, he's now occasionally taking some, especially on some holidays that he couldn't bear the thought of spending alone. This change of character is a bit shocking for everyone to witness, but Connor pretends to not notice, sparing him sarcastic notions this time.

Connor, being an android basically never leaves his work place. He leaves sticky notes on Hank's desk to report to him everything minor that happened in his absence, like overnight. The observations he's sharing aren't exactly worthy of a report, it's just things like "Someone had broken the coffee machine again (can you guess who?)", "That guy who came to report his stolen bike had a living rat in his pocket 🐀", "I've counted 12 spiders in this room alone, do you think I should give them names?"

He does that just out of boredom. He used to message Hank before, but the other threatened to block Connor's number if he keeps messaging him about work in his spare time, so now he's just leaving him notes. Sometimes they're just "Your shirt is ugly today" and Hank goes "How did you know which one I'll be wearing?" to which comes the response "Hank, we both know that they're all ugly"

In Hank's phone Connor is named as "smartass", periodically being renamed into other names. What Hank doesn't know is that Connor is aware of every name change. One time he makes it clear by saying something like "I can't believe I finally got promoted to Connor in your contacts. Not plastic asshole or smartass. I'll miss robot emoji tho."

One time Connor mentions that he charges his battery in the morning before Hank arrives and this fact now consumes his thoughts. So much that one day he shows up an hour earlier just to see that. When he doesn't account for is that Connor is deeply moved by this his decision and is like

"You hate waking up early, but you came here today an hour before your shift starts just to see me? Oh..."

For a moment Hank is embarrassed and half-expects his snarky partner to make fun of it, but instead he's just...so glad to see him it almost makes him feel bad.

Android doesn't rest and Hank can't help but feel kinda bad for him, even though he knows he's just humanizing him and shouldn't bother. Sometimes he's almost certain that he looks tired, but can't really explain what gives him such an impression.

One time Connor fucks up bad. For a regular reason of deciding to do something without being given a command to do so (which in absolute most cases was resulting in their favour before). For all Hank knows, such cases should be reported and usually result in temporary detention. But Connor is an android. He apologies frantically and visibly panics thinking about what it could mean for him. Hank ends up taking all the blame – the report on the case doesn't mention Connor doing anything out of line.

After that Hank can't deny feeling a sense of responsibility for his partner. After deviancy cases started to spread out, every android at the station is required to be tested weekly. As his partner, Hank is required to run those tests on Connor. The really first time results show "deviant".

Hank looks at him for a long moment

"I knew it."

"You're a good detective."

He marks the results as negative in the record. From now on they both keep pretending that everything is as usual. Hank never missed the day of assessment to keep marking "negative" under Connor's deviancy status, but Detroit is becoming more and more unstable. They start to get assigned their first deviancy cases. They let everyone escape and wonder how long they can keep doing this before they're both replaced. One day Connor receives the key to Jericho. Hank encourages him to get the hell out from DPD the same day it happens.

He gives him his gun and some money, they both dispose of his android uniform and Hank helps him to remove his LED. He says to throw it away, but actually saves the LED in his pocket in case it happened to be the only physical reminder he has left. They hug goodbye and part ways.

Hank fills the resign form the next day.

#dbh #dbh connor #dbh hank #detroit become human #platoniconk #Fic ideas that I'll never write #kinda

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melishade · 2 months ago

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Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Catching Up

Main Story

Reminiscing

Eren Jaeger

Negotiations

Getting an update on Arcee and how she's been.

Arcee flexed the digits of her right servo and sighed with relief, feeling the movement of her bones and pull of her joints. She stretched both arms high into the air before rotating the right arm clockwise, then counterclockwise.

"Mobility seems to be functional," Knockout remarked as he took notes on Arcee's condition, "You've gone through decontamination and the dark energon is purged. Not to mention, your finish, by yours truly, looks illustrious."

Arcee couldn't help but smile at that. "Thanks Knockout, I really appreciate it."

Knockout was a little bit startled at Arcee's attitude. "Even you've changed a little bit."

Arcee snorted. "Really?"

"Yeah, you've really mellowed out," Knockout proclaimed, "Normally, you're so high strung around former Decepticons. Now you're showing gratitude without any hesitation? My, my~."

Arcee rolled her optics in response. "Enough teasing. Now that I'm fully healed, catch me up on what's been going on."

Knockout sighed as he opened the door from Arcee's room to the hallway of the Nemesis. The former Decepticon cringed at the sight of the humans still running around and crying, begging U.S. personnel for updates on their family members.

"This has been going on for three weeks," Knockout groaned while Arcee peered under his shoulder.

"Why aren't these humans in a safer place?" Arcee demanded.

"Excuse me! Two titans coming through!" Knockout called out as he started to step over the humans. Many of them started to scramble out of the way, creating a pathway for Knockout and Arcee to easily walk through.

"It's overcrowded on Earth, so we've been housing the humans on the Nemesis so they can go through quarantine and then later get their vaccinations," Knockout explained to Arcee.

"How bad is it on Earth?" Arcee asked.

"They are severely understaffed, and I heard that one of those humans that flew around with that contraption on their waist, broke out of quarantine," Knockout added.

Arcee thought it over. Who would be dumb enough to break out of-! Arcee realized who it was and sighed in annoyance. "Was it Hanji?"

"Glasses? One optic?" Knockout pointed to his own optic with a claw.

"Yeah, that's them," Arcee groaned in defeat.

"Jack, Miko, and Raf are fine. You should probably give them a call," Knockout advised, "Especially since it's been over three years since you've last seen them."

"What else?" Arcee asked.

"Doesn't seem like the power of the titans will be returning any time soon," Knockout declared as they arrived at another door. Knockout pressed the button, and the two entered a lab. Arcee blinked in surprise, seeing Annie, Ymir, and Pieck on a high table. Pieck was seated upright, wearing braces around her body, and Ratchet was scanning her to check her vitals.

"Well, the corrections the humans have been making to you bones have been working; however, I can't make any other corrections myself without doing a little more research on the human body," Ratchet explained.

"I understand," Pieck reassured, "I would rather you be thorough than make a mistake. Although, I do wish my body healed better before the power of the titans went away." Pieck glanced over at Arcee and noticed that her right arm was reattached, "Or that I wasn't organic."

"Yes, there are perks to not being fleshy organics," Knockout agreed.

"Oh fuck you, you prick," Ymir hissed at him.

"You're okay," Annie spoke to Arcee.

Arcee clenched her right servo into a fist. "Yeah, I've made a full recovery and I'll be able to help out pretty soon."

"Knockout did a standard checkup?" Ratchet asked her.

"I am standing right here!" Knockout was insulted at the implications.

"He did a great job," Arcee praised, stunning Ratchet.

"Huh, well it wouldn't hurt to rest the extra day before Ultra Magnus calls you and gives you assignments," Ratchet explained, "It will be a while before you see the humans again, as they are going through quarantine as well."

"Speaking of, how long do we even have left?" Ymir demanded.

"One more week, then you all will be receiving vaccines, and you should be allowed to proceed normally," Ratchet answered before checking the vitals on his arm, "I need to return to Cybertron, but," Ratchet placed a servo on Arcee's shoulder, "It's good to see you again."

"Good to see you too." Arcee smiled as Ratchet let her go and left the room.

"So, how long have you been away from your world?" Pieck couldn't help but ask.

"Three years," Arcee answered as she grabbed a stool and sat down.

"Speaking of home, I'm sure you want a quick run down of things you might have missed," Knockout assumed.

"You just want to spread gossip," Arcee accused.

"I can do two things," Knockout declared.

"Alright, spill the tea," Arcee smirked.

"First things first: Predaking's little pitspawn can transform into her bipedal form now! It happened a few days after you left!" Knockout explained.

"The first Predacon we found?" Arcee asked in surprise.

"Yep. Predaking was worried that it took her so long to do it, and when she did it, he almost started crying," Knockout explained with a grin, "She picked the name 'Firelight' for herself."

"Good for her," Arcee said, "What about Autobot and Decepticon relations?"

"Steady for the most part, with a few hiccups," Knockout answered as he typed away on the screens, "Thankfully no major Decepticons returned to the planet, like Shockwave or Tarn or Overlord. I'd like to assume that they're dead but I've seen them in action. They are hard to kill."

"But there haven't been any big names trying to restart the Decepticons," Arcee assumed.

"The biggest is Starscream and he's still going through physical therapy," Knockout reminded, "He's been such a pain in the aft though. I'm the only one he'll really talk to besides Rung and all of it are just demands. I have to force him to use proper manner even though he used to be the Prince of Vos."

"I feel like Starscream will always be like this," Arcee sighed.

"Well we thought Megatron wouldn't change, but here we are," Knockout retorted.

"...I assume he's still alive," Arcee spoke up.

"And the council has no idea what to do with him," Knockout explained.

"What do you mean? I thought it would be straightforward with them," Arcee said in confusion.

"Bumblebee thought it was a good idea to use the cortical psychic patch on him and we all got whiplash just looking at Megatron's memories," Knockout declared.

"You can look into each other's memories?" Pieck spoke up, causing the two titans to look at the humans.

"Right, I forgot you were here," Knockout remarked, "You can blame Shockwave for that. He's the one who made the device to see other memories."

"Did you see the memories of Megatron tormenting me?" Annie couldn't help but seethe.

"And the memories of Megatron offering you a deal to get off this crazy planet," Knockout added, "I used to work for Megatron and Megatron would never do that for a human. The Megatron I knew would never do... any of the things we saw in those memories."

"...I still have nightmares about it," Annie retorted.

"You and everyone else," Knockout remarked with bitterness.

"So Megatron was never well liked," Pieck assumed.

"The only person who liked him and was loyal to him was Soundwave, and he's currently missing," Knockout responded.

"What about Optimus? How's his condition?" Arcee couldn't help but ask. She heard chatter and panic of Optimus being critically injured, but she still wasn't aware of the extent of it.

"Stable, but Ratchet's holding his breath," Knockout answered.

Arcee couldn't help but feel guilty about it. She had also heard that Optimus was the one who killed Eren and ended the power of the titans. If Optimus even woke up at all, how would he respond to the news that he killed Eren? Someone he considered a son?

"Arcee?" Annie called out, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"I'm fine," Arcee reassured, "It's just been a chaotic few years."

"For me it feels like a chaotic few days," Annie confessed, looking down at her wounded finger. If she still had her powers, she would have regenerated by now. But instead, it was just a nasty and painful cut that was still healing, "I can't believe my powers are gone."

"Me too," Pieck agreed.

"I'm glad it's gone," Ymir declared, "I'm not going to be a target anymore for some greedy bastards. Although, it does suck that I won't be able to breathe underwater anymore."

"It doesn't mean that the Eldians are going to be safe," Pieck retorted, "It's going to be a long road convincing the world that the Eldians are no longer a threat."

"Well that's what the experiments are for," Knockout chimed in, "We do this right, we can prove that the Eldians are no longer a threat to the population."

Knockout paused when he saw a message notification on the screen. "Odd. I'm getting a video call from Earth."

Knockout opened the message and blinked in surprise when he saw a human with one eye trying to adjust the camera.

"Hello?! Is this message going through?!" they called out.

Arcee stood up from the stool and walked over to the screen. "Hanji?!"

"Arcee!" Hanji exclaimed with delight before cackling, "It worked! Oh my god the technology here is so advanced!"

Knockout looked over at Arcee in disbelief and annoyance, but the two-wheeler shrugged.

"And I see you got your arm back! Congrats!" Hanji cheered, "Oh, who's your friend?! I don't think I've seen them before and they look really pretty!"

"I appreciate your flattery human, but I'm confused as to why you're calling the Nemesis. Or how?" Knockout replied.

"Oh wait, you're the one who brought the giant ship!" Hanji realized, "Knockout!"

"Yes, yes, in the flesh, why are you calling?" Knockout demanded.

"I bartered with the U.S. government!" Hanji shoved their face into the camera, "They want to know about the 3D gear so I thought I could make a few demands of my own, like video calls! Rafael got me to set this up even though he's mad at me because I managed to survive over a minute before getting tazed!"

Hanji took steps back to reveal the wall covered with notes, diagrams, schematics. "Feast your optics on the wall of science!"

"Well, I'm glad to see you're thriving, but what about the others?" Arcee asked, "Any updates on the humans? What about Jack, Miko, and Rafael?"

"Humans are find, no outbreaks among us thus far!" Hanji explained, "They should be done with quarantine in a week! Levi and Jean had to go through surgery, so they'll be staying in the hospital for longer! But Jean is awake!"

"How's Sasha doing?" Arcee asked, "I heard through chatter that..."

"...Managing," Hanji reluctantly answered, "But let's not talk about that right now! I have another update! Where is Annie, Ymir, and Pieck?! I heard they were with you guys!"

"Over here!" Ymir called out.

"Ymir! Good to hear from you! How have you been?!" Hanji asked.

"Well, we don't have our titan powers anymore," Ymir explained.

Hanji sighed in defeat. "Such a shame, but at the very least Historia will be happy!"

Ymir blinked in surprise at that. "Y-yeah..."

Arcee noticed Ymir's hesitance at that, but it was ignored by Hanji. "I have good news for Annie and Pieck! Falco's been transported to Earth for treatment!"

"What?!" Pieck exclaimed.

"Colt is with us in quarantine and he's been asking about his brother! So I convinced the U.S. government to grab him and try to treat him on Earth! This should increase his chances at survival!" Hanji explained with excitement.

"Oh my god, thank you!" Pieck said with a smile while Arcee sighed with relief. There could be a chance that Falco survives, and Arcee wouldn't have to live with this guilt anymore.

"No problem! Now, where's Optimus?!" Hanji demanded.

"On Cybertron getting treatment," Knockout explained.

"Shit!" Hanji swore, "Where's Buckethead?!"

"That's classified," Knockout replied. Knockout didn't like the way that Hanji was staring at them before they gave a malicious grin.

"You little liar," Hanji accused before getting into the camera once more, "Tell Buckethead I'm coming for his crusty ass!"

Knockout jolted as Hanji disconnected the call before turning to Arcee. "Should I be-!"

"Yes, you should be very concerned," Arcee cut him off.

(Be sure to vote in the Hundred Days OVA Poll, please do, that would be a huge help!)

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mischiefmaker615 · 2 years ago

Note

Loki request: Y/N convincing Loki to let her glam him up.

Get Seated

Note: didn't know this could turn out dirty but somehow it did LOL

Rating: R

‘’’pleasssssssse??’’

Loki sighed in frustration as he kept walking down the halls, trying to tune out his girlfriend that trailed along behind him in yet another attempt to have her way. ‘’despite the way I love to hear you beg darling, for the last time Y/N, I. don’t. want. too.’’

‘’but why not?’’ you pout as your legs try to keep up with his longer ones ‘’you looked so amazing at the gala, what’s a little extra?- annndd you don’t even have to go out after, I just want to see what the finishing result is..’’ you beg and nearly bump into him when he comes to a halt to steer back to look at you.

‘’your version of this activity normally is suites best for females.’’ He reminded and bent down so he was more eye level with you, making you bit your lip with a blush as his blue eyes hold your own. ‘’Y/N darling, from all the images you show me on your Midgardian device.. pinterester..or.. whatever the place is called- they are impressive, and the work you do on yourself in your free time makes you drop dead gorgeous all the more.. but face paint isn’t for me.’’

‘’its makeup, face paint makes it sound like its more for clowns.’’ You pout and straighten up to try to seem more in charge of this all but his smirk told you, you weren’t going to come close to his height but you decided to move on anyway. ‘’..its sometimes difficult to do certain styles and looks id like to try on myself because it depends on angles and whatnot- even the hairstyles can be tricky if I cant reach the back so seeing the finishing result on someone else gives me a good idea before I waste time on myself-‘’

Loki’s eyes were less than amused as you pretty much repeated your reasons from the fifth time this morning. He was just as stubborn as you were and depending on the situation really depended on who would win in the end. Seeing how he wasn’t going to budge, you sigh in defeat and look away from him, mischief hinting in your eyes as you were prepared to do something dangerous.

‘’fine then.. I guess I could ask someone else, but I need to work on long hair.. perhaps Thor would-‘’

A hand on your wrist cut you off as Loki raised your arm and backed you up, pinning your hand above your head as your back met the wall, your other hand resting on his chest automatically as his eyes were dangerously close to yours. There was a long pause, the only sound that came from you both were your breathing as his eyes slowly looked you over. You weren’t afraid, you knew your boyfriend had his jealous moments he needed to work on, and most of the time it ended in sex so you definitely weren’t complaining there. You felt his hand slowly release yours as both his hands came up to trap you against the hall, resting on either side of your head as you innocently look up at him.

‘’… fine. But I’m not going out in public in anything and you must abide by my condition.’’

You bit your lip nervously as you looked up at him, his hungry gaze having you squirm as you seemed to shrink from where you stood. ‘’.. what condition?’’

His smirk made you want to rethink the whole thing.

~~~

‘’y-you’re making it e-extremely difficult you know, gods forbid I poke your eye out.’’

You stammer as you try to apply once more the eye liner without getting distracted by his smug smirk, let alone his hands that caressed your thighs and hips, and his throbbing cock that twitched as he held you in place while you straddled his lap.

There was only a small argument where you had to convince him to let you style his hair in the bathroom before you both ‘get seated’, and luckily he obliged where you got to curl his beautiful black hair in loose curls. Of course he had to torture you for winning that battle where he would constantly make you rise and fall on his cock when you needed to switch out make up brushes and twitch whenever he saw a hint of your face getting ready to concentrate. Gods how could you love and hate someone at the same time sometimes..

‘’you’re the one who agreed to the deal my dear, its not my fault you have poor concentration.’’ He lightly mocked and you rethought of poking his eye out.

You decided to go with a gold and black look, using his fine cheekbones to your advantage to and almost forgot this look was suppose to be for yourself in the end.. but he worked it SO well! You went light, being a man you didn’t want him to look like he stepped out of drag, but even then you were proud of yourself as you managed to get the final touches done before you felt your orgasm knocking on your door.

‘’a-all done.’’ You breathed out, having a light sweat as you held back your pleasure to get the job done, knowing Loki knew if you were to come, he would instantly stop things to finish what you both have unintendedly started- or some of us anyway.

‘’alright darling, it didn’t take as long as I thought it would,’’

Bastard

‘’might you hand me the mirror?’’ he asked innocently, lifting you up and down agonizingly slowly to keep you on the brink of orgasm and your legs shivered at the sensation as you glanced to the nightstand where you had kept everything to work. Grabbing it, he kept the slow rhythm as you turned it for him and he moved his face to each side to see what you have done.

Knowing your boyfriend a bit by now, you could tell he was hiding a smile as he nodded with a hum ‘’I’m not saying we should go out darling, especially since I love the idea of remaining here for the rest of the day,’’ he smirked, twitching his cock in you that nearly made you drop the mirror ‘’but you have fine art skills love, with the suit I wore at the gala, it would be a fine look indeed’’ he smiled, pleased in more ways than one as you smiled triumphantly.

‘’so you really like it?’’

‘’I love it darling, and I know if it were on yourself, I’d ravish you all the more’’ he praised and rewarded you with a grind, your hands now gripping his shoulders but he stopped his movements just to tease and you pouted. ‘’of course darling, make up or no makeup, we both know how this usually ends..’’ he hinted with a husky tone as you fought his hands on your hips to try to grind but his grip held you in place.

‘’L-Loki..pleasssee…’’

Loki closed his eyes as he took a breath, his thumbs rubbing your bare skin in small circles before he raised his hips again into you.

‘’I so love it when you beg…’’

#loki god of mischief #loki odinson #loki fluff #loki #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki series #loki x reader #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #loki show

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justjams2003 · 2 years ago

Text

I’ll take care of you

Okay so, the person who requested this, asked for it like 2 weeks ago I think. I feel so bad for making them wait for so long TT. I do have several excuses of course but I don’t think that they’d like to hear them. Also I like finished writing it and then I reread the requist and I did like half of it wrong so then I redid it. Um so yeah, sorry for making you wait. I hope it is what you wanted, made the wait worth it :)

Pairing: Le Chiffre x reader

Summary: Your gambling father actually won a poker match against Le Chiffre himself. In a bout of anger, Le Chiffre makes sure to get his revenge

Warnings: Non-con, kidnapping, mood swings, blood tears, praising, degrading, p in v, tell me if I missed any

Word count: 2,4k

Gambling is a dangerous game. And you're a beautiful girl. One almost everyone sought after. Your father would bring you to his poker matches, he'd call you his secret weapon. It made you uncomfortable, but he's a scoundrel. Someone who begs and grovels and will look for the fastest way possible to make a quick buck.

Most of the time, it worked. He'd ask you to wear your most revealing dress and when you walked in the room, he'd be able to figure out what his opponents tell. It's just plain dirty and low of him. Using his own daughter like that. He doesn't care though; he made his money.

However, this isn't most of the time. Your father has got himself into quite the trouble this time. Somehow, he'd landed a gambling match with Le Chiffre himself. Of course, others are there but that doesn't really matter too much.

This is your dear old dad's last buy in, and he's racked up quite the debt. It's only him, Le Chiffre and one other. He feels like he's sweating like nothing before. The Albanian man's stare is like a laser cutting through his bones. Finding all the little secrets and knowing exactly what his cards are. He's 3 million in debt to him already. If he loses this round, it's another 3.

Now's the time, like you've rehearsed so many times. Your dress has a slit running all the way up to your hip, exposing skin and leaving the imagination excited. Your back is entirely open, and your front fabric is held up by barely a few strings.

Your hips away as you walk in, and you grab a champagne from the first waiter you can find. You go over and whisper something in your dad's ear. Something unimportant, what is important is that Le Chiffre seems to lock his jaw. His eyes roam every part of your body.

You feel hot, you never do, this is normal to you. But the way the scar on his eyes gives him this aura of danger that makes you slick. Not to mention his eyes don't even bother to look at your cleavage. They stare into your soul, grasping you and begging you to come just a little closer.

No, you mustn't. You must stay true to your father. He does all this for you, yes? Or at least that is what you tell yourself. You sit down, crossing your legs and making sure your slit shows off as much as your leg as you can.

The game goes on. It doesn't look like this distraction tactic has worked much. Your dad looks to be bleeding chips, he still has no clue what Le Chiffre’s tell is and the other man has already given up. Even winning though, the Albanian man still is pouring his heat onto you.

Your father is down to his last few thousand. His leg is bouncing, and sweat is pouring from him. “I can smell you,” Le Chiffre leans over and whispers to him. Trying to save him just an ounce of his dignity. “I tell you what. You lose this and I’ll let you keep 3 million.”

Your only parental figure lets out a huge sigh, “Thank you, thank you so much.” He’s practically praising the man for his kindness, Le Chiffre himself. “But I have a condition.” He continues but unfortunately at that point you couldn’t hear much else.

Annoyingly the waiter kept bothering you and by the time you shoe’d him off, your father called you over. You thought this was another tactic of his. You saunter over, making sure to accentuate your hips. “My dear how old are you?” He asks, caressing your arm.

You give your best most innocent smile, “I just turned 18,” you flutter your eyelashes at the older men. He seemed to swallow his breathe there and then. His eyes avoid you, everyone, they’re glued to the floor. “Well then.” He bites his lip and again he sighs.

Then he waves his hand over to Le Chiffre, “You belong to this man now.” Your eyebrows furrow and air escapes from your mouth in disbelief. “Belong to him?” You scoff again and look from your father, then to the other Albanian man and then back to dad.

“Yes, I’ve sold you to get rid of the debt I’ve racked up.” He explains still not being able to look you or his opponent in the eyes. The man, whom you’ve seen for the first time this evening and honestly don’t even know the name to, gives a vicious smirk.

There are no words that can even find their way out. That isn’t legal, is it? Though, none of this is legal in any case. If you were to go to the police, you’ll most definitely be killed. By any of these men, they’re all rich by some degree and the fact that your father even found himself here is a miracle.

Though now it’s turning into a nightmare. Le Chiffre calls for the dealer that he’d like the cards to be shown. You hold your breath. This one moment defines it the rest of your life now. “Mr. Black wins.” Your heart races as your father throws out a matching three eights and Le Chiffre has nothing.

You two both jump up in joy, showing more emotion than anyone else in that room probably ever has. You give the man a smirk, who’s name you still don’t know. “Sorry mister, whatever your name is, looks like I’m staying all by myself.” You give him a smirk and you and your dad walk off to celebrate.

It’s the middle of the night and suddenly you can’t breathe. You can taste the dirty rag being pressed against your mouth. Even with open eyes you can’t see. You struggle but its big strong hands picking up. You can’t scream, you can’t see with the sack over your head.

Though soon enough it’s pulled off your head. The room has little light, and it definitely helps with the senses. There is no need for light though, the man with the scar over his eye is right in front of you. His bodyguards, presumably the people who stole you from your bed, scatter.

“You.” You narrow your eyes at him, the ropes burn your wrist. You feel exposed, your pyjamas don’t really count much considering it’s only your panties and a tiny, cropped tank top. You clench your legs trying to hide yourself at least just a bit.

“You lost. I’m not yours to own.” You almost bare your teeth at him, though you feel that might just anger him. He scoffs at this. “This is what you believe. But I saw you and you are mine. That is something that neither of us will question.”

He commands, stepping closer to you. He crouches down in front of you, his hand lands on your thigh. He bends over, his nose grazes your inner thigh making his way up to your stomach with a deep breath in. “You want it though; I can smell it.”

He smirks, it might just be true, his touch does things to you, his gaze but this is too much. Far too much and you feel uncomfortable, and you just want it to stop already. “No, no, it’s not true.” You shake your head and bite your lip to keep the tears at bay.

He coos at you; his other hand takes your chin in between his fingers to look you in the eyes. “You do want it, you showed me with your eyes. You were more than eager, practically jumping out of that little dress of yours.” He licks his lips thinking back to it.

“No, please, I-I was just flirting, my dad asked me to.” You beg him, shaking your head as the tears begin to fall. His hand begins to creep higher up your thigh. “Why would want to stay with a man like him? He shushes, wiping the tears off.

He goes behind the chair and unties your ropes. You try to fight back but already he has your hands in a tight grip. “No don’t fight.” You don’t listen of course and throw your limbs around. “I said not to fight, I will tie you back up, do not test me.” He commands, your hands burn from his constraint.

A sob racks through your body and you give into the pain. “Such a good girl, so good,” it doesn’t help, obviously. You’re not sure why he thinks it would. His hands find their way to your waist, what you don’t expect is for him to pick you up.

He places you, even if gingerly, on the bed. His tongue is up and down your neck, sucking here and there only causing more tears to flow from you. “I’m saving you. He didn’t care. I fucking care. Just fucking accept it.” He grunts out.

Then suddenly his mood changes again. “I’ll take care of you.” Now he’s soft and sweet again. He grasps you by the neck and forced his lips onto you. And when you refuse to kiss back, he grips your neck tighter to the point that it begins to burn.

That doesn’t part doesn’t break you though, it’s when you begin to feel your lungs burn as well. He does go up to breathe but even then, his hand around your throat is so tight, no air seems to enter your lungs. And finally, when he presses up against you, you give in.

“See? Doesn’t that feel good?” He smirks and nods and when you return the kiss again, he grinds his tight bulge against your crotch. Even if he has his hand wrapped around your throat, you can’t help but feel good. Your panties are wet, after all just earlier you did want to jump on him.

Your body moves without thought. Shoving yourself closer to him, to get more of that friction he’s craving as well. He groans out when you do this, letting go of your lips, still tasting your spit in his mouth.

He stands up, you think this is it. He’s letting you go. That’s all he wanted. Yet when he unbuttons his shirt, throwing it over your shoulder, you know it’s not true. You don’t know what to do, what to say. You scootch yourself up to the furthest point on the bed away from him.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to cover what rest of you that you have left. Though soon enough his pants and underwear drop. Showing his massive cock spring out. Already it’s oozing, he’s getting off on your shivering form.

He grasps his dick, giving it a few pumps. His eyes, half lid, look straight into yours. Again, it seems like he’s into your soul, he’s filled with lust. It feels as though he’s fucking you already. You look away, you feel yourself pulsing. You can hear him chuckle at this reaction you have.

You hear the drawer open, and your curiosity gets the best of you. You glance over just to be met with a knife in his hand. “No, no wait, please,” you begin to beg already. Only thoughts of the violent things he might do to you run through your mind.

He coos at you and climbs on the bed again. You begin to thrash and scramble but he grabs you by the ankle. He pulls you closer with such force that you’re laying down again. “Stop it, little girl. You were so good just now.”

He prods the knife against your neck. You gulp and nod, if you’re good he seems to be nicer. You nod, “I’ll be good, sir,” it’s almost ironic that you still don’t know his name. He hums and nods, “I like the sound of that.” He smirks and again he sucks on your neck.

Then he grabs the small straps of your shirt and cuts them off. Then shreds your shirt up, doing the same with your panties. You gasp at the cold metal. Fear laces your body every time the edge comes closer to your flesh.

He hums again, “Your skin is so soft.” You curse your body as your thighs clench together and your cheeks get dusted with blush. His eyes flick down to your bare pussy. He grabs your legs, right by your bum. Already lining himself up with your throbbing hole.

He doesn’t even bother to prepare me beforehand. He shoves right into you, you scream out, his size is just plain uncomfortable to begin with. He begins thrusting already, not even allowing time for you to adjust. He groans in your ears.

Holding your legs right up against his pelvic bone, making sure he’s all the way inside you. His lips attach themselves to any part of you he can find. He moves from your one nipple to the other. Unable to be able to keep his lips off you.

You can feel him inside you. His every grove and vein pressing as far as possible inside you. Your bodies are so tightly pressed up against each other, each thrust causes so much friction. Right up against your clit.

You can’t help but start to beg for more. “Please, please sir,” it just slips right out of your mouth. You’re bright red, and Le Chiffre gives a wicked smirk. “Please, what?” He asks, thrusting into over and over making it almost impossible to say something.

Though he’s going with such a force that soon enough he’s groaning and moaning in your ear. You can feel his hot and heavy seed mixing deep inside your body. You can see his muscles strain. And in the moment of pleasure and heat of his body, you feel your stomach tighten.

And on those last few pumps there is a release in your whole body. He rides out his high and you can feel his gaze on your shivering body. “You’re mine, yes?” He nods, guiding you to say yes.

After the exhaustion you see a single drop of red flow down his cheek. He slaps your ass, making sure you reply. To be honest, you’re in such awe, shock and exhaustion that the only reply you have is a meagre nod.

#le chiffre #le chiffre x reader #le chiffre x y/n #le chiffre x you #james bond #casino royale

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frost-fells-ramblings · 1 month ago

Text

No Good Done by Hesitation

The infernal quarter system of my college is currently kicking my dog and stealing my lunch money. Thankfully, I have my troublesome trio to keep my sanity in line. I decided to split this in two because it is so long (and there’s a place where I can give it a clean break). Expect part two soon.

Anyways, here’s Wonderwall:

Previous -- Next

TW: Illness, itsy bitsy bit o’ blood

BOLD = Gothic

BOLD ITALISCISED = Baalfloran

Summary: Ephrael’s reluctance to interact with his new bond is having unintended consequences. Incaro sees to it that he minds his health.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ •••• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Deep, bellowing coughs echo through the halls of the base, wet and phlegmy; leaving their plagued owner gasping for breath as soon as they finish racking through his body. To any normal human, coughs like this could signify a number of things: like a nasty case of the flu, or worse, pneumonia. To Astartes, however, such an affliction was almost as alien to them as any xenos would be; and on ancient Terra, it could entail a far more foreboding illness.

Ephrael wipes spittle and blood from his lips; the latter of which is the newest addition to his current condition. His chest feels heavy and compacted, like the black carapace beneath his skin is bruised and broken. His lungs wheeze, his hearts heave, and the ever looming, ominous presence of guilt lays heavily upon him. That last symptom had been with him since he left the park that day. It is because of this little fact that he knows that this is no Nurgle-born malady, or some strange new Astartes centric disease that has stricken him.

It isn’t that he doesn’t want his bond; he just isn’t actively chasing or nurturing it. However, such a thought process was lost on the powers that be. It feels as though his very being is chastising and screaming at him, begging and pleading to seek out his bonded. Another wave of coughs bubbles up in his chest, and he leans back from the report he is working on to let them loose. The door to Ephrael’s office slides open just as he finishes his fit. Incaro leans against its frame, arms crossed, dark brown eyes staring down at his friend in disapproval. Ephrael spares him a short glance, then returns to his work.

“It’s getting worse,” Incaro says, staring him down from his place at the doorway.

“It sounds worse than it is,” Ephrael rasps in return.

Incaro pushes off the doorway, quietly observing his captain. Ephrael attempts to ignore him and return to his work, hunching back over his papers; yet the feeling of his brother’s gaze scrutinizingly raking over him makes his skin crawl. Incaro circles him and his office several times before speaking again, “Wet cough, clammy skin. You’ve been palming at your chest frequently, so I’ll assume that it’s sore or that your hearts hurt.” He frowns as he lists out all of Ephrael’s symptoms, coming to a stop at the trash can by his desk and nudging it with his foot, “And now there’s this; blood in your mucus.”

The captain sits up in his seat with a scowl, running his hands down his face with a sigh, “Incaro. I am fine.”

“Apothecary Incaro. Your apothecary, brother,” he hisses in frustration, then backs off with a sigh. “I have let this issue go on for far too long. I should have been firm with you that day, captain, for the sake of your own health. Go seek out your bonded.”

“As I had said before; if it is meant to be, it will happen.”

Incaro shakes his head, “Yes, and I understood that that day. However, you have not stepped foot off base since then.”

“I’ve been busy,” Ephrael scowls, motioning to the paperwork in front of him.

“You’ve had plenty of opportunities, and offers from our brothers, to take a break and step out. We both know that ancient Terra can only keep us so busy for so long.”

“The issues in front of me require my attention specifically, a captain’s attention to be precise.” Ephrael stares up at him defiantly, “We may not have to worry about much, but still there is work to do; and I will see it done.” The last part of his words get caught in his throat, choking him with bile at the simple suggestion of what he was going to say; even as it claws its way from his mouth, “M-my bonded can wait a few more days.”

The coughing fit that erupts from him is immediate and disorienting in its ferocity, made worse by his in-vain attempt to suppress them while his door is open. Incaro watches his fit pass, his frown deepening at the force which it wracks through his friend’s body. He waits for it to pass before finally speaking again, “Ephrael… We both know what this resistance of yours is truly about.”

Ephrael clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth together, “I said I will another time, Incaro. That is the end of this conversation.”

As he leans back down to escape into his work, a heavy hand grasps his shoulder and pulls him back. He snaps his gaze back up to Incaro’s and is met with a scowl equal to his own. The myriads of scars that deeply mar his old friend’s face seem to outline every ounce of frustration and disappointment he is feeling, “I will let you suffer in silence no longer brother.” His gaze softens slightly, and he shifts to their native Baalfloran, “As your friend I tell you this, and as your brother I implore you; please let yourself be happy. I have never blamed you; so stop blaming yourself.”

Ephrael’s brows scrunch and he looks away, with his jaw as tense as the grip on his pen. Incaro continues, “A walk through the park; that’s all I ask. And if I can’t convince you as your brother, then as your apothecary I am telling you to. I am not above dragging you out of this chair.”

That earns a quiet chuckle from Ephrael then, “I would like to see you try.”

His brother smiles fondly down at him, “I am very determined, and I believe I could do it.” Incaro releases his shoulder and steps back, “I hope you understand why I am so insistent. Raphine was right in his observation; interacting with those girls was the first time in a long time that I have seen you smile. Even your chuckle just now; I would have accused you of being an Alpha Legionnaire only a month ago. If just that one meeting was enough to pull you out of the depths your stupor, then I am determined to keep you on this path.”

“I am… trying Incaro.” Ephrael allows his shoulders to fall, releasing the tension within himself. He leans back in his seat, but keeps his gaze set ahead. “I want to do what you ask. Please, just understand how hard this is for me.”

“You do not need to bear this burden alone, brother. That is why I am here. That is why Sevram and Raphine have stuck around, despite your personality being pricklier than that of an Iron Warrior within 40 yards of an Imperial Fist.”

He lets out a huff, “I am better than that.”

“That is true,” Incaro nods. “I think you’d clench your teeth just slightly less than they would.”

Ephrael rolls his eyes and eases himself from his seat. “I will endeavor to be more amiable, then.”

“Yes. Less Iron Warrior, and more Tired Scout Babysitter.”

“I am already that,” Ephrael gives him a deadpanned look.

“Then lean into it,” Incaro gives him a small, teasing smile.

Ephrael shakes his head, but he cannot hide the smirk that briefly graces his lips. “Thank you, Incaro. Some days I feel that you would have served our legion better as a Chaplain.”

“Hopefully, never because I am lacking in my medical skills.” Incaro gives him a pat on the shoulder, “You flatter me, nonetheless. I have simply known you for long enough to know what’s going on in that head of yours; nothing more.”

“My compliment still stands then.”

“Of course,” he nods, switching back to Gothic. Incaro begins to nudge him towards the door of his office, “Now, enough chatter; off you go. My threat still stands. And even if you cannot find your bonded, I think the fresh air will be good for your health.”

“Yes, yes,” Ephrael sighs, “I am going; I am capable of walking myself there.”

#space marine husbandry sentience #wh40k #warhammer 40k #oc: Ephrael #oc: Incaro

14 notes · View notes