#he either wanted to drag her down with him or claw his way up to her

[ssaalexblake]

"we used to be friends, him and me” line lives in my head rent free and it’s not a good tennant okay it keeps me up at night with the noise 

[hunnidmilly]

that back. |R.R|

heyyyyyyyy. this is dedicated to @harmshake for inspiring me. love ya twin. ty always <3 ty for getting me out my funk and inspiring me.

and @shes2real. loveeeeeee ur fics. gotta go check em out if you haven’t.

warnings: pure smut. no plot. nun. just freakayyyyy. no one under 18.

parings: roman reigns x black!reader

“ah!” your fresh manicured white toes popped as your leg laid over your man’s shoulder

“i know, babygirl, i know…” he sighed into your neck as his hips continued to snap towards your pussy, “been a good girl all day for me…gotta give my baby her reward.”

roman loved being vocal during sex. he loved making your head spin and your heart swell with his words making you speechless. well…you were already speechless but yk what i mean.

he grabbed you other leg hiking it up further around his waist allowing you to feel him deeper, “why are y—you fucking me like this?” you strain latching your hand onto his back, digging ur nails into it attempting to relive the pressure in your center

“why not? tight ass pussy always ready for me. you hear her crying for me? let me show her daddy’s home.”

squelching noises echoed from around the room. you could feel yourself dripping down roman’s dick right onto the bed sheets creating a wet spot. your pussy swollen and worn out yet still squeezing down on him pulling him back inside for more. he loved you like this for him—a babbling, dizzy, dick drunk mess. you loved it even more.

he pampered you in and out of the bed room; this all starting from coming home to a hot bath waiting with candles and pink rose petals scattered around. you let him wash your body down, an intimate act all too familiar, before his washcloth covered hand got closer towards ur aching pussy—washing rubbing you there letting the heat from the cloth bring you towards your first orgasm of the night. you both quickly took it to somewhere it wouldn’t turn into a slip n’ slide…well?

that familiar feeling for the 4th time tonight pulsed inside your belly again ready to gush out onto your man’s dick.

“shit! You gotta stop scratchin’ me baby…” he hissed before throwing ur legs over his arms, pushing them towards either side of your head

his movements sped him, continuing to dig at your pussy making a mess in the middle of your thighs. bad choice.

you lived for your man’s back. the way his body loomed over yours like a shield felt nearly romantic. and it was beautiful to say the least. you knew if you kept leaving marks, he’d kill you for it in the morning. he’d have to cover up again, which would make him loose out on money. roman knew his fan base, the ladies wanted what they wanted. but fuck those hoes…you’d give them something to stare at for-sure now. you’d carve ur name with your nails if you could.

your nails caved inwards again in his skin dragging all around to relieve both the pain and pleasure your man was creating with the swivel of his hips. the vein in his dick pulsing against ur spot with the new stroke. your hips attempting to buck into the mattress to escape the new rhythm.

“you feel me baby? right in that pussy? right where i need to be, baby. you wetting it up so good baby. i’m not stopping till you cum on it.”

“f-fu-uckkk! i can’t roman, ah!” you sobbed out sinking ur teeth into his shoulder. your pussy clenching and unclenching, his dick desparate to find its hiding place in your pussy.

“why not baby? fuckin’ good ass pussy. gimme what i want, babygirl. get that nut.” he roared into your ear

not for the first time, you felt the white flash behind ur eyes as heat radiated from ur toes right towards your pussy. with a loud whine of incoherent words, your cum gushed out around roman’s still thrusting cock now with a new layer of your cum coating it, fucking your through it. you let out a mixture of screams and sobs as he chased his nut, fucking into you faster, the stimulation becoming too much to bare. your nails scratching roman anywhere it could, clawing at him.

“where can i cum baby? where you want it at?”

“in my pussy..” you whimper out hoarsely

“nah, speak up. Where you want it at, baby? i can come in this pussy? My pussy?”

“in my pussy! fuck! cum in meeee, roman. cum in me, pleaseeee.” you beg with a pout, he leaned down connecting your lips together. his strokes becoming erratic before you felt the long hot spurts of his cum spraying your walls.

“shit! fuck! i can’t stop, baby. ahh!” he moaned in your ear as his thrust slowed down. your breaths both racing to pull it back into your lungs

roman continued to feed you small soft thrust before pulling out. he eased your legs of your shoulders to watch the mixture of your cum oozing out of your pussy and dribble onto the bed sheets. he lowered a thumb to your clit to rub small circles, causing your pussy to convulse and push his cum out in bubbled pools. after, he used his thumb to finger fuck it back into you with a small whimper, he got up to grab a towel to clean you off.

“damn, baby!” you hear him call out from the dark bathroom

“what?” you strain out, still trying to catch your heart rate back to normal

“we gotta invest in some gloves or something for you, when we fuckin’ baby girl.” he reemerged from the bathroom with a towel in hand. you took the time to notice all the bright red scratches that coated his tanned arms, and the teeth marks in his neck. he did a small spin, to show you his back.

he damn near looked fresh out of a TLC match.

“shouldn’t have been fuckin’ me like that than.”

[eufezco]

just a little fluff + angst scenario i wrote because we don't have enough content of logan x reader looking after laura and the three of them forming a family.

english isn't my first language. marvel masterlist <3

—laura, go back to the couch —. logan grunted.

she had opened the door to your room and her head was peeking out. her big brown eyes stared at you. you were in bed, tucked in, waiting for logan to lie down next to you. the dim light from your bedside table was the only thing lighting up the room.

—don't make me tell you again, kid.

—it's fine, lo —. you grabbed his arm and stopped him as he was going to the door to close it. logan huffed. —is everything okay, laura? —you sweetly asked the little girl.

she simply stood in the doorway, biting the inside of her cheeks. laura looked at your bed, if logan lay down there wasn't much more space left but if you squeezed in a little bit maybe she could… logan called your name and shook his head. the little girl looked at you from the door with big dark eyes, glossy with exhaustion and decorated with small dark circles underneath them.

the night before logan and you woke up to her screams. you ran to the living room, followed by him, both scared that the men who wanted to hurt her might have entered your house. but laura was having a nightmare. when you knelt next to the couch and shook her gently to wake her up, she pulled out her claws in panic and cut you on the arm.

you hissed, watching as the blood began to run down your arm. she was more terrified by what she just did than you were.

it's okay, i'm okay, laura. look, it's nothing. are you okay? were you having a bad dream?

the girl nodded to your questions, her eyes could only stare at your arm, bleeding nonstop. logan knelt next to you and grabbed your arm to take a better look. he then looked at the girl, you could see on his face that he was angry. you put your other hand on top of the one he had holding your arm. i'm okay you assured him. his expression relaxed when he realized that with your eyes you were asking him not to blame laura. he walked you to the kitchen to clean your wound and then covered it with a bandage.

it wasn't her fault, lo. you told him and he looked at you in disbelief. he went to your room without saying a word to laura and you kissed her forehead after tucking her in. no matter how much you assured her that you were fine and that it had been an accident, laura didn't sleep at all that night, thinking that she had hurt one of the two people who cared about her the most.

but this night she was at your door as you looked at logan with your lips pressed together. he called your name again. —don't —. he spoke firmly. but how could you say no to the little one? she hadn't asked you anything yet you knew exactly what she wanted.

there was a few seconds of silence.

—you wanna sleep here? —you finally asked.

laura nodded and logan grunted. she was quick to enter the bedroom and close the door behind her. she was wearing a t-shirt of logan's that she almost dragged on the floor. she liked his t-shirts better because they were bigger and she could curl up in them while sleeping.

she went to lie down between the two of you but logan was quicker and took her place. laura huffed and you rolled your eyes. it was like dealing with two small children. but there was no way he was going to sleep apart from you, not even separated by an eleven-year-old girl.

laura ended up curling up next to you in bed and before turning off the light, you made sure that she was well covered by the blankets. she subtly moved closer to you, hiding her head in your chest, and she did not take more than five minutes to fall asleep. you didn't take long to fall asleep either, following the girl's deep breathing and playing with her hair.

the next morning logan was the first to wake up. your back was against his chest, one of his arms was hugging you against his body. well, one of his arms was hugging you both against his body. his arm not only reached you but laura too, who lay with her back against your chest as you hugged her from the back.

as he went to get up to make breakfast, he felt how some small fingers closed around his big ones and kept him from getting out of bed. he looked at the little girl sleeping peacefully, letting you be her big spoon while she held logan's fingers tightly in her hand.

he lay next to you on the bed again, he could afford to stay there a little longer just to spend some more time with his two girls.

[dorkszn]

7 MINUTES IN HELL + satoru gojo

SYNP — getting stuck with your ex-boyfriend during a dumb game of seven minutes in hell heaven

WARNINGS — amab reader, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!gojo, brat gojo, porn w plot, forced proximity, pet names, dunk sex, drinking, smoking (weed), closet sex, fingering, orgasm denial, anal sex, college au, implied commitment issues, implied toxic relationship, gojo’s kinda an asshole, degradation, creampie, minor feminization | 3.8K words

A/N — my first time writing top reader i think 🥹🥹 I’m actually so proud of this

Everyone knows when and why the two of you broke up. If you can even call it a breakup. It was more of a tear-filled yelling session between a pair of friends with benefits. That’s how he described it. One where Satoru ended up walking out your front door and you dropped onto your couch with angry tears in your eyes.

Nobody questioned you guys afterward though. Suguru kept quiet, listening to Satoru whenever he ranted. Shoko sat beside you, sharing a cigarette and takeout with you. Haibara kept his usual self, forcing everyone into group activities. And Nanami who kept to himself, per usual.

The house was full to the brim of loud, drunk college students. Music blaring and the stench of alcohol intoxicated every inch of the air. Your typical party. Some people play beer pong in the basement of the home you knew all too well, some make out in the corners and crevices, and some dance with their friends in the middle of the living room you’d hung out in many times.

Haibara wasn’t particularly known for his parties but he had thrown a few good ones in the past few months. Some you had attended and some you decided to miss out on. You couldn’t miss this one though. No matter how badly you wished you could. Shoko dragged you here because she couldn’t say no to Haibara’s invitation. Which for some reason meant that you couldn’t say no either.

Currently, you stand in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as a girl you recognize as a lower classman speaks to you. “But yeah, Mr. Yaga is just—“ her words are interrupted by a small hiccup. “Such an asshole, you know? And I don’t even have his class!” She’s been stumbling and stammering the whole conversation but for some reason, she’s one of the only bearable people here.

“Ain’t that the truth,” You blandly chuckle, sipping at your drink and emptying your red solo cup. “Be right back.” You tell her through the boisterous tune playing through the house. You slide past a few people to make your way to the fridge.

You open it and let the cool air abduct you. A nice break from the stuffiness of the crowd. An arrangement of alcohol sits in front of you. Your gaze runs through it, trying to pick whatever stands out. A singular white claw catches your attention. You reach for it only to be interrupted by another’s hand grabbing it.

“What the he—“ you whip around to face the thief. Of course, it’s this bastard. White hair and black, circular sunglasses greet you along with a stupid signature grin.

“Oops, did you want this?” Satoru hums. He cracks the can open and takes a dragged-out sip of it. You roll your eyes at his typical antics, shutting the fridge.

“Fuck off, Gojo.” You scoff.

“Ow, last name basis, baby?” He hums, drinking from the can once more. You feel your blood beginning to boil in your veins. You push past him, knocking him back ever so slightly with the force.

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble. You make your way to the basement where you know Haibara would have more alcohol. Gojo chuckles and trails behind you.

“We’re playing some games upstairs if you wanna join.” He offers. You glance back at him with narrow eyes.

“With you? No thanks.” You hum, jogging down the stairs. A cup pong game runs in the large basement, a crowd building around it. The well-known jocks stand in the middle, being hyped up by their teammate.

You hold a prolonged stare at one of the jocks. He’d always caught your eye. “Really? Jocks don’t give a good fuck. I know they seem like it but they don’t.” Gojo suddenly speaks up again.

“Do you ever stop and think that some people want more than a fuck-buddy?” You hiss, turning to look back at the man. He gives you a softer look. Your past flashed through his mind. He sits in silence. You sigh and continue to the box of beer in the corner of the room. You grab a can and crack it open.

“Go find something to do, Gojo.” You mumble, leaving him in the basement.

An hour or two and a few more drinks in, you find yourself watching a UNO game running at Haibara’s dining table. Utahime sits in front of you, holding three cards in her hand. She might be the only other person that Gojo irritates more than you. A focused aura surrounds her, keeping you just a foot away from her.

“You got money on this game?” You ask her, glancing over her cards through slightly hazy eyes.

“Of course she does. As do I,” Another voice speaks up. Mei Mei sits just one seat away from Utahime, she holds just two cards in her hand. You can’t help but chuckle. Of course. Utahime is too competitive for her good and Mei Mei is one of the freakiest gold diggers ever.

Suddenly a hand lands on your shoulder. You turn at the weight and see Shoko. She holds up a plastic ziploc bag, with a small bundle of green inside of it. “Holy shit, Sho.” You slightly gasp with a grin.

The woman smirks back at you. “Found out my guy was here. Plus it was free, beat him in Smash Brothers for it.” She explains. If there was anyone to count on to find something to smoke, it was Shoko.

“Wanna go up? I hear Yu’s room is open.” She questions, gesturing to the stairs. You nod and give Utahime an encouraged pat on the shoulder. You and Shoko find your way through the crowd, squeezing past people kissing, and dancing. You finally make it to the stairs where two students sit at the bottom, one sitting in the other lap. Everyone’s gonna feel like shit on Monday.

You somehow make it up the stairs and follow Shoko’s guide. You find your friend’s room but Shoko stops you before you can open the door. “Don’t freak out, okay? I know that’s unlike you but still.” She murmurs.

You shoot her a confused look before shrugging. “Okay?”

Shoko nods and grabs the knob, opening the door. Haibara’s bedroom looks how it usually does. Suguru and Gojo sit on the bed, sharing a bag of chips between the two of them. Haibara is on the floor beside Nanami, running a game of shogi. You look over at Shoko and she furrows her brows. You sigh.

“Hey, I found y/n.” She hums to the group before closing the door behind the two of you. You awkwardly wave to your group of friends and join Shoko on the floor against the wall.

“Y/n, will you tell Kento that this can't move diagonally?" Yu huffs, showing you one of the game pieces.

“You know I don’t know how to play shogi.” You reply. Yu facepalms before nodding and turning back to the blonde. You watch as Shoko quickly works to roll the weed into the paper. You think she could do this in her sleep if she tried.

When done, she passes you the blunt and reaches for her lighter. “Shit.” You hear her mumble.

“Suguru, got a lighter?” You ask, focusing your gaze on him and only him. You see Gojo watching you out of the corner of your eye but ignore him. Suguru digs through the pockets of his baggy sweatpants, finding his old-fashioned flick lighter. He tosses it to you and you catch it in your right hand.

Shoko cups her hand around the flame as you hold it to the paper. It lights and you shut the lighter. Gojo’s staring at you, you can feel it. You place it between your lips and tuck the lighter in your pocket. You look back at him as you take a drag of the drug. You pass it to Shoko and gently blow out the smoke.

Gojo’s face flushes a soft pink before he turns his attention back to Suguru.

“Oh my god!” Haibara suddenly outbursts. You all turn to look at him. “Ok! Ok! Let’s play something else.” He seethes, frustration written on his face.

“Jeez, grab a beer, dude,” Shoko says, blowing smoke out from her lips.

“What d’you wanna play?” Gojo hums, clearly amused by the idea. Haibara ponders for a moment before his eyes settle on a hat on top of his dresser.

“I have an idea,” he smirks. He stands and grabs the hat then a piece of paper and a marker.

“I don’t like this.” Nanami groans, dragging a hand down his face. While Yu begins ripping up the photo, the door bursts open. An angry Utahime and a grinning Mei Mei enter.

“How’d the game go?” You hum, turning to the two girls. Utahime simply glares at you and you smile back.

“I ran her pockets of course,” Mei answers with a smug grin. Before Utahime can remark, Yu calls out.

“Ok! Everyone write their name on a piece of paper and put it in the hat,” Haibara tells you all, handing everyone a small piece of paper and Suguru a pen.

“We’re not children, Yu-Bara,” Shoko scoffs.

“Exactly. That’s why we’re playing big games,” he says excitedly. “Spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven.” Everyone groans or sighs at his antics, except for Gojo. He laughs.

Reluctantly, you all scribble your names down and drop the folded papers within the hat. You all form a circle in the middle of Haibara’s room floor. Shoko on your right, Kento to your left, and the white-haired bastard across from you.

An empty beer bottle is placed in the middle of the circle. “Let’s keep this fun, guys. No fighting or arguing, alright?” Yu hums. You all nod and he grabs the bottle. It spins rapidly between you all. Everyone’s eyes trained on it. The bottle comes to a slow before stopping, the mouth of the bottle pointing at you.

A cloud of smoke leaves you with a sigh. “Of course.” You mutter. Yu then replaces the bottle with the hat of names. You look at the antsy expressions on your friends' faces before closing your eyes. Your fingers shuffle through the papers then grab one.

A combined “ouuuu” from Haibara, Gojo, and Mei Mei fills the room as you open your eyes. You roll your eyes at their childishness. Slowly, you open the small piece of paper.

‘Satoru ;)’

You’ve got to be fucking kidding. Your facial expression must’ve given away your thoughts because everyone stares at you oddly. Shoko leans over and reads the sheet. “Oh shit.” She gasps slightly.

You look up to meet blue eyes then flip the paper around for everyone to see. Numerous reactions leave the group. But you focus on the grin that covers Gojo’s face. “Well, isn’t it your lucky day?” He quips. He stands and holds his hand out to you. You take one last drag of the blunt before standing and ignoring his assistance.

“Sure is,” you mumble, smoke flowing through your words. Yu trails behind the two of you to the closet. You walk in first, Gojo following.

“Be nice guys! Have fun!” He waves with a taunting grin before shutting the door. You hear him push a chair up in front of it, preventing your escape. “Your seven minutes start now!” He yells, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

You hesitate through the darkness, trying to space yourself away from Gojo. “Just stay on your side for the next 7 minutes and we’ll be fine.” You sigh. Gojo pulls out his phone and turns on the flash, shining the bright light at you.

You wince at the light and put a hand up to shield your eyes. “You see the space we got? There aren’t any sides, sweetheart.” He scoffs, showing you the minimal space of the closet. He stands just about a foot and a half away from you. The proximity almost made your skin crawl.

“Why are you such an asshole?” You question, dragging a hand over your face.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Most people disagree with you, y’know?” Satoru hums, flashing you a grin.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss again. “Plus, most of those people don’t know you.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it the first time,” he snickers and you glare at him. “Besides, are you implying that you know me?”

“No, I thought I did but clearly not.” You grumble, folding your arms over your chest. Satoru ever-so-slightly frowns at this.

“C’mon man, it was just a misunderstanding,” Satoru sighs, pushing his snowy hair out of his face. A misunderstanding was a severe understatement. You couldn’t tell if it was the closet or the alcohol in your system but anger began to fuel your body. “And it’s not my fault you were naive.” He adds.

Before you can think about it, you’re grabbing his shirt and shoving him against the closet wall. His phone falls to the floor with a soft thud, the light illuminating the closet from the ground. Satoru swallows and looks at you with wide eyes. His hand grips your wrist.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get you all worked up,” he apologizes with a smirk, gently tapping at your wrist. This bastard.

“I can’t fucking stand you, Satoru.” You seethe, bringing your face close to his. You didn’t want the others to hear and think something was going on.

“You say that and you still haven’t found anyone better than me,” The male replies, putting the two of you just inches apart. A sudden warmth surrounds you, your heart pounding in your ears. “You know you love how I make you feel.” He whispers.

He wasn’t wrong there. Every fuck after him just felt dull and you were left feeling bad for whoever you were with. And nobody pushes your buttons quite like Satoru does. Nobody makes you feel like he does. And you hate it.

“Fuck you,” you finally stammer out with a shaky breath. He lets out a low chuckle.

“You miss that, don’t you?” Satoru murmurs, his grin just inches away from your lips. You’d like to blame the alcohol for your next actions. But both of you know, your mind and body were craving the man in front of you. He was addicting.

You finally took him into a rough kiss, pulling a small sound from him. His lips feel so natural against yours. They feel no different than a few months ago. The two of you move so knowingly with each other, lips in sync. Satoru’s hands grip your shirt, slightly pulling at the fabric. One of your hands finds his waist while the other makes its way to his hair.

You tug on the snowy tufts, pulling a wince from the man’s throat. You slip your tongue past his lips, taking in every inch of him for the first time in a while. Your mind has every part of him engraved in it but your body longs to re-explore him once more. The taste of alcohol lingers on his tongue, matching yours.

You want to breathe him in more. Use him as your oxygen source instead of the small air supply of the closet. However, you pull on his hair once more and pull away from him. A string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your chest heaves up and down, pressing against his. You wonder if he can feel your racing heart.

“Missed you too, baby—“

“Shut up.” You say, voice stern. You pull at his belt with one hand, the other wrapping around his throat. Satoru lets out a weak groan as you undo his belt buckle. You move to his pants until they’re both loose around his waist. The waistband of his boxers reveals itself, as well as the slight bulge in the cotton.

You don’t loosen your grip on his neck when you lift two fingers to his lips. “Get 'em’ wet.” You mumble to him. Your fingers slip past his shining, pink lips and into his mouth. His tongue pressed against your fingerpads before swirling around your digits.

Satoru’s eyes stare straight into yours over the edge of his sunglasses. You feel your dick slightly twitch in your pants, making you swallow harshly. “So you do listen,” you hum. You pull your fingers out with a small ‘pop’ from him.

“When I want to—“ his words are interrupted again when you turn him around, his back facing you. You make quick work of pulling down his pants and boxers. Satoru’s back naturally arches when the cold air hits his skin.

You snicker in response with a small hiccup. “You’re such a slut, Toru,” you tell him as you reveal his hole to you.

“Shut the hell up.” He replies, his words breaking down into a moan when you spit on his entrance and push two fingertips past the ring of muscle. You push your fingers further, prodding at his walls.

“Shit, has anyone stretched you out since me? You feel exactly how I left you.” You grin cockily. Satoru grumbles curses in response and rolls his eyes. You scissor and part your fingers inside of him, stealing lewd noises from the man.

“Yeah… tons, guys way better than you.” Satoru pants, a faltering smile on his face as he glances back at you. You lean forward and bite down on the sensitive spot of his neck. His cry is like music to your ears, making you smirk against his skin. Your tongue laps over the reddening spot as your hand moves to his mouth, covering it with your palm.

“Quiet down, will you? Everyone already knows you’re a whore,” you hiss. You feel Satoru tighten around you, making you groan and his eyes roll. He’s close. “Gonna cum already?” You hum, quickening the pace of your fingers. Your digits curling inside of him.

“Ngh— fuck off,” Satoru mumbles, slightly moving his hips to fuck himself on your fingers. But you pull away, watching his entrance clench around nothing. A small gasp escapes the man. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He examines, turning his head to look back at you with a deep glare.

You scoff before reaching for your belt. “Nothing nearly as bad as whatever is wrong with you.” You reply, undoing your belt buckle and your pants zipper. You pull down your boxers that are slightly stained with your precum. Satoru swallows as he looks down at your growing erection, mouth practically salivating at the sight. A hungry lustful look in his bright blue eyes.

You tease Satoru’s entrance with your tip, just barely pushing into him and pressing kisses to the ring of muscle. Satoru lets out an annoyed whine, his hips squirming and pushing back against you. You groan when he desperately grinds against your length. “C’mon, just put it in.” He pleads.

“Such a needy boy,” you murmur. You push into him and his eyes roll back in his head as your cock fills him. Your breath shakes as it passes your lips, his walls tighten around your length. So warm and holding you just right. “Fuck Toru, you’re so tight.” You hiss in his ear, pressing a kiss against the skin.

“Just fuck me already.” He scoffs weakly, his chest slightly heaving against the closet walls. You wrap a hand around his throat and grip his hip with the other, your fingertips surely bruising where they sit. You pull out of him agonizingly slowly, taking inch by inch away from Satoru.

You then slam back into him to the hilt, a choked whimper leaving him. “Not such an arrogant bastard anymore.” You murmur before picking up your pace again. His muffled sounds don’t go unheard as you focus on the way your cock disappears into the plump flesh of his ass.

A harsh clap echoed throughout the closet with every collision of your hips. “agh— sweetheart, s’too good.” Satoru pants, hands clawing at whatever fabric was closest to him.

“Yeah? Who fucks you the best?” You hum, relentlessly as you buck your hips forward. Your leaking tip punctuating every time you hit that certain spot inside him. A spot you’d never forget.

“Shit, you do. You fuck me the best.” The snow-haired male whimpers. You shift your hand around his throat, pulling him right against you. A pornographic moan erupts from his throat. A noise everyone outside the closet definitely heard. Two of your fingers find their place in Satoru’s mouth again, pressing down on his tongue.

“Shh. Don’t want everyone to hear how much you love my dick, right?” You coo, running your tongue along the exposure of his neck. A muffled “mhm-mhm” leaves Satoru as his tongue focuses on your fingers occupying his mouth.

However, this can’t distract from the feeling of slamming into him. Spreading him apart and filling every centimeter of his insides, reaching sensitive spots he never knew even existed. The feeling of Satoru’s hand pushing against your abdomen doesn’t even register in your mind for seconds as you get lost in his cunt.

You take hold of his wrist and move it off of your flushed skin. “Take it, Toru. You know you can.”

“Can’t, m’fucking— gonna cum.” He babbles.

“Yeah? Go ahead, cum around my cock. Make a mess for me.” You tell him through a smug grin. Your hand drags down from his mouth to his dick, wrapping around it and pumping him to the rhythm of your thrust.

“Fuck, baby, missed you so so much.” Satoru groans before ropes of cum spurt from his tip. His eyes squeeze shut so tight and his body trembles against you. His seed coating your hand and fingers.

“So fucking sloppy.” You mewl, feeling your balls clench as you stuff yourself into Satoru to the hilt. You bite down on his neck as you release in him, stuffing him to the brim with your cum.

A weak whine pulls from Satoru when you finally pull your teeth out of his neck and lap your tongue over the spot.

The two of you sit in your mess, the smell of sex and sweat intoxicating the small space. You can feel Satoru’s heart racing in his chest. You just sit for a moment until you go limp within him before pulling out. Satoru leans against the closet wall, lips glossy with spit and eyes hazed over with lust.

Suddenly, he gives you a weak grin. And you can’t help but drunkenly smile back. Idiot. You glance down and see your cum beginning to dribble out of him. Satoru grunts when you push a finger into him, assuring your seeds place inside of him.

“Missed you too, baby.”

[mxstly-melancholy]

Logan request!!

Logan finally had enough and fucks you the way he’s always wanted putting you in your place then you have to deal with the mansion over hearing him

Everyone’s just happy you guys don’t argue anymore instead your loud in a different way

Logan X FemReader SMUT!!

Warnings: No y/n, fem reader (she/her) , pet names, sub/dom if you squint, arguments, embarrassment, breeding. squirting.. lmk if there is more.

Logan has been super cranky lately, but to be fair, so have you. And this has caused a lot of tension and arguments between you two. You aren’t sure why it’s been this way, it probably ranges from the constant stress of missions to the lack of sleep. Who knows at this point, but everyone including yourself is getting sick of the arguments.

And they’re not even real arguments either, they’re just loud disagreements about stupid small things.

And it seems like today you were the one to start a disagreement..

You and Logan were in the mansion's kitchen, talking about a mission you both came back from. It was exhausting, and the last thing either of you should be doing is having a beer, but here you are..

“I just really don’t think we did the right thing, that’s all I’m saying.” You put your hands up in defense. Logan’s eyebrows drew together annoyed.

“What do you mean? We did the only thing we could do. There was no other option.” He huffs.

You sigh, “Look, all I’m trying to say is we did have other options, they just didn’t come to mind until we literally had no other option but to act on what we did.”

You watched as Logan downed the rest of his beer, annoyance on his face as he sat at the table across from you.

“What’s your deal?” He asks seriously, crossing his arms.

The sudden change in demeanor made your heart race.

“What?”

“You heard me, what’s your deal?” He repeats.

You anxiously shrug and awkwardly laugh. “I don’t understand what you mean. I'm just sharing my-“

“Why have you been so wound tight? Everything has to be an argument with you lately.” He huffs.

Your eyes widen at the comment, feeling attacked almost.

“I'm sorry? You’re putting the blame all on me? What about the ones you caused? Just gonna forget about that now?” You stand up angrily.

Logan stands up and walks around the table, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the kitchen wordlessly.

“Wh- Logan where are we going?” You nervously ask.

He was tense, his jaw clenched as he speed walked to their shared room.

He didn’t reply. Just continued on until they reached their room. He opened the door, almost running inside & locking the door. He picks you up and places his hands under your ass, catching you by surprise.

“Logan-“ you whisper breathlessly. He walks over to the bed and places you down on it, crawling on top of you.

“I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you.” He mumbles, not letting you reply before smashing your lips together. His hands roam over your body, teasing and seducing. You give in, wrapping yourself around him. With His free hand, his claws come out and rips your pants down the middle in one motion. You gasp from fear but also excitement.

He throws the ripped pants off of you, then before you know it his hand is at your heat, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He smirks, watching your face contort to pleasure and desperation.

“Logan… fuck.” You moan. He kisses and sucks at your neck, leaving deep purple marks along it. Your hips buck up into his hand, his pace too slow.

“You want more, huh bub? You gonna stop being a little brat if I give it to you good?” He whispers in your ear. You nod rapidly, your hands clawing at his shoulders.

“Please Logan. Please.”

And with that he sits up, quickly removing his own pants. He pulls his briefs down and his cock springs out, head red and leaking pre already.

Your mouth waters as he grabs your ankles, pushing your legs towards your head, putting you in the mating press position.

From past experiences, this position means he’s not going to hold back.

He rubs his cock against your folds, gathering your slick on him.

“Fuck baby. So fuckin’ wet fu’me.” He nearly growls.

You whimper as he starts to push his way in, tingles shooting up your body. He goans, white knuckling while holding you down by the back of your knees.

He starts to thrust slowly, the wet noises your pussy makes as he thrusts into you makes his cock twitch. He can’t help but have his eyes flutter, gaining a faster pace every minute.

“Logan- please. Fuck- more!”

And with that his hips snap into you and he’s going to pound town. He growls, teeth showing as he looks down at you with possession.

“Mine, all mine.” He grunts, leaning down and biting into your shoulder. You moan loudly, and unfortunately Logan isn’t being too quiet either, you already know everyone can hear you two but at this very moment in time, you don’t care.

“Y-yours-“ you moan back. Your body shivers as you squirt on his cock unexpectedly, adding even more slick to the mix.

“Fuuuck yes, that’s right baby.” He smiles, bringing a hand down and rubbing at your clit while he fucks you.

Your legs shake, eyes closing.

“Uh uh- look at me.” He grabs your face with his free hand. “You better be a good girl after this. After I’ve been so nice and fucked you senseless.” He says with short breaths. You can barely even understand him, the white noise in your ears and the static in your eyes only getting louder as you’re about to cum.

“Y-yes sir- yes- I’m gonna- I need to cum!” You whimper loudly.

With one final slap to your clit you’re cumming hard, clenching around his cock so tightly that his claws retract and push right through the headboard of the bed. He cums hard right after you, a deep guttural growl leaving his throat as he paints your walls white. You hold onto him tightly as he fucks his cum into you, your legs shaking from overstimulation with every thrust.

“Fuuuckk.” He groans.

The morning after, you two leave your room after a shower & getting dressed for the day. You notice Scott smirking as he walks by.

And as you’re walking down the hall, you see people whispering. Logan looks smug as could be, and you were completely oblivious.

“What’s going on Logan?” You whisper to him,

He smiles, “Really?” He wraps his arm around you.

“You have no idea?”

Your face heats up with embarrassment once you realize.

“Oh.. damn it..” you mumble.

Then Ororo walks by you two. “Glad to see you two aren’t arguing anymore!” She smiles.

You stop and hide your face in your hands.

“This is so embarrassing.”

Logan laughs, “Hey, it’s not so bad. At least they’re happy for us.” He clears his throat. “Oh, don’t let me forget, I have to get us a new headboard..”

[jyoongim]

Hey there! My first time asking/making a request lol, but I had two separate ideas and you can just pick one or something.

First was an alastor w/ fem reader, it's mating season for red and this ones diff bc he's had his eyes on reader or smthn for a min and decides this season he's going to do his best to show off to her, lmao like "look look, I can provide and protect!" a bit intense bc it's mating season, but reader is CLUELESS until at some point it finally clicks and she's all "huh.. ohh SHIT"

Second idea was one that I thought would be funny, like so.. lucifer finds out Al likes reader and even tho he doesn't really like Al he's like " don't worry, I can definitely help with this" but he's lowkey a terrible wingman even tho miraculously it somehow helps in the end???

Again you can choose from either and end it however you want, fluff/nsfw/sfw. Or if none of this is your cup of tea then just ignore me!!

Not me on a fluff binge hehehhehe

hope you guys like it! I’ve been a bit slow to write and upload but I’ve enjoyed reading every request! I’m still taking a slight break but I try to give y’all SOMETHING. Hope y’all don’t mind!!

Lots of love-jyoongim

——————————————————————————————-

Mating season.

Usually an awful time of year that made Alastor more on edge than usual.

But something was different this year…

This mating season, the deer demon wanted a partner….

Alastor had his sights on a pretty doe and he was going to ensure that she was going to be his for the season…

—————————————————————————

You rubbed the sleep out your eyes as you greeted everyone as you took a seat for breakfast.

Pancakes. Bacon. Sausage. Eggs. Fruits.

Your stomach rumbled at the delicious smells.

”Fine hellish day isn’t my dear?” Alastor chirped as he piled food fruits and meats on your plate. You blinked at the amount of food on your plate.

”Al my stomach is only so big” you giggled causing the demon to hum as he took a seat beside you.

”A full belly makes a happy doe” he smiled as you happily ate the food.

Alastor watched as you ate, a soft purr rumbling in his chest.

”Why don’t we go for an outing dear?” Alastor suggested as you let out a burp.

You agreed.

It was rather chilly for Hell.

You and Alastor waltz around the city. You happily looked at the displays in many windows. 

You didn’t know Alastor’s agenda but you didn’t mind accompanying him.

You must have lagged behind him a tad as a demon slithered up beside you as you looked over some jewelry.

”what’s a cute thing like you doing all alone?” A deep voice asked causing you jumped, surprised.

”O-Oh hi um I’m just looking that’s all” you gave a nervous smile. Your skiddish nature took over as you took a step back. The demon advanced on you. He was big, could easily overtake you if need be.

”Why don’t I show you around? I don’t see a ring. I can show you a good time” sharp teeth smiled at you menacingly.

Your ears flattened, you might be  small but you could defend yourself. You bared your teeth at the demon making him chuckle

”Now now little lady lets not get ugly” 

You hadn’t realized he had backed you into a corner.

The demon pounced, making you screech as he pinned you to the wall.

Your ears perked as heavy static buzzed through the air. The demon didn’t seem to notice 

 “You’ll make a fine piece of ass”

Black smoke poured through the alleyway and static popped.

”That’s no way to talk to a lady”

Black tentacles dragged the demon and blood-curdling screams escaped the demon, but were quickly silenced as Alastor ripped him apart.

”mine mine mine” Alastor growled as he chomped on the demon.

You gagged as chunks of flesh flew around.

Satisfied that the distasteful demon was in his belly, Alastor looked towards you.

A large sharp claw traced your face, he was growling but his eyes were soft. He morphed to be a bit smaller and helped you up, his red eyes roaming over you.

”I’m okay Al” you reassured giving him a smile. He seemed to calm down and looped your arm with his.

”dishonorable filfth” he hissed as he made his way back to the hotel. You pouted you really wanted to buy something but you’ve had enough excitement for one day.

You looked at Alastor and tilted your head “Al your antlers”

The usual small antlers were now big and standing tall on top his head.

”Nice rack” you giggled making the red demon smirk, his chest puffing proudly.

”than-thank you for all that. I really appreciate Al” you said sheepishly.

The tall demon hummed 

“Don’t mention it my dear. What kind of man would I be if I couldn’t protect you?”

——————————————————————————

Alastor had been lingering around you since the little accident. He had growled at anyone who got too close to you.

He was very possessive and protective of you, which you thought was sweet that the demon was worried about you.

You groaned as the sun peaked through your window. You sat up and you blinked in confusion.

Flowers, breakfast, and a tiny box.

Rest up little Doe ~Alastor

Your tail wagged in happiness. You don’t know why Alastor had been so attentive but you were eating it up.

You placed the flowers in a vase and began to eat breakfast.

Your face wrinkled as you pulled a piece of meat from your teeth.

what the fuck?

It was soft and fleshy. You shuddered but ate the rest of your breakfast. You opened the tiny box and keened when you saw the bracelet you had been looking at earlier in the week.

There were cute little radio themed charms.

You quickly cleaned up and went downstairs.

Charlie and Vaggie were sitting in the lobby chatting.

You smiled and waved, your bracelet caught Vaggie’s attention.

”Hey where you get that?” The question also caught Charlie’s attention, she immediately began gushing

”Oh my! Did Alastor get that for you? Omg so cute!”

Vaggie deadpanned “Alastor have been very cozy towards you what’s that about?”

You shrugged “I don’t know but it can’t be anything bad right?”

————————————————————————————-

“I see you got my gift” Alastor said, coming behind you as you red on the couch. You smiled “Its really nice Al but why the sudden gift giving?”

Alastor smiled “well my dear its mating season”

You blinked. Mating season? What did that have to do-

OH SHIT!

Your eyes widened “Y-You’ve been…”

His lips pulled into a genuine smile “Courting you? Why of course my dear!”

His hand circled the wrist with the bracelet. He brought it up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to it.

Your body shuddered in delight and your ears flicked as he nipped at your fingers.

Your nose wrinkled at the smell of his pheromones, your tail wagging.

You let out a purr as you rubbed yourself against him and took off running, throwing a wink at him as he followed suit, giggling as he made a grab at your hips as you evaded him.

”Come and solidify your place Mr. Radio Demon” you teased slipping into his room.

A soft growl escaped Alastor as he followed you and had his shadow guard the door.

[ponderingmoonlight]

I'd love Obanai + Sanemi saving reader from a demon (like in the first episode??) You are awesome, thanks!

This escalated so quick damn, but hey, there you have a full on fic hehe - hope you enjoy <3

Sanemi saving your ass even if you don't want to

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: You knew what you got yourself into when you let a demon capture you instead of your beloved friend. Little did you know that help already arrived, viewing you as nothing but a damsel in distress until suddenly, you turn into much more...

Warnings: (y/n) fell but I fell harder, just saw the movie and it's so AHHH, honestly Sameni's voice is so mezmerizing omg, however this includes violence and language, might incluce spoilers for the movie but if you haven't seen it already you don't know what's going on anyway lol, like all my demon slayer fanfics this includes ai pics of reader so if this doesn't sit right with you, I'd suggest to not read it

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED MORE SANEMI CONTENT

Your dirty cold feet pound against the muddy floor, haunted eyes darted towards nothing but sheer darkness. You still don’t know how you managed to keep the demon from kidnapping your best friend, how you’re still alive when at this very moment, this frightful creature his hunting you down like its prey.

So many innocent young women, one after another disappeared from your village nearby. Why did you never even think about the possibility that you or even worse, a person you love could be next?

Not until now. Not until you stared into the demon’s stone-cold red orbs when it began to run after you. Not until you were the one threatened to get eaten alive.

“Run! Run and don’t look back!”

“But (y/n), you’ll get killed-“

“I won’t. Leave it to me, tell everyone to lock their doors, just don’t come back!”, you screamed on top of your lungs.

“I’m getting impatient, stupid girl. You know you will get killed, right?”

Blood rushed through your ears, body threatened to fail you.

“If you want to kill me you have to get me first, stupid demon.”

How long have you been running for? Minutes, hours? You lost track of time completely with your body screaming, begging you to stop and take a break. The bitter taste of iron covers your whole mouth, blood sticks to your new Yukata like a second skin. Your mother will completely lose it when she sees the crimson discolouring on the white fabric.

“I’m having enough.”

If you ever see her again.

With a swift motion, the demon swings you over his shoulder, his claws digging into your flesh so roughly that you cry out. No, this can’t be the end. You can’t allow yourself to die like this: in the arms of a demon, without even fighting back. No one ever told you what to do, you were always able to stand up for yourself. Today will be no exception. Even if you get killed, you will fight back with everything you have.

“Shinazugawa…Something’s not right.”

Sanemi can’t help but look around, eyes meeting the countless demons around him. What the hell is this place?

“Yeah, I don’t like this, either. I’ve never seen demons swarming around like this.”

“Let me go!”, you yell, fist banging roughly against the creatures’ back while it drags you into what looks like a haunted mansion.

Your eyes widen when you feel multiple pairs of red orbs laying on your body.

“Demon slayers…”, you hear your kidnapper hiss through gritted teeth, turning his head over his shoulder.

Demon slayers? You’ve heard of them before, how they behead every demon coming their way, how desperately they fight for humanity. But…where were these demon slayers when all the girls from your village got kidnapped? Where are they when you need them the most? How absoluteley useless.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Is it the anger, the grief? With a rapid motion, you dig your nails into the eyes of the demon until he lets you fall to the ground abruptly, groaning out in visible pain.

Everything hurts, a trail of blood follows you as you drag your body against a rotten wall. You feel your body giving in, all the stress, agony and exhaustion rushing over you like a wave. But no, you can’t give up right now. Not when there’s still a slight chance for you to survive.

“You little bitch. Eat her, I will leave and get her little friend.”

Suddenly, the urge to puke becomes almost unbearable. Countless demons come near you, their teeth exposed to the harsh moonlight. No, this is not how you want to end. You can’t die getting eaten alive by these creatures. But what else are you supposed to do? There is no way out of this living hell.

Except for the destroyed window a few steps away. This is your only chance. You drag yourself up, sprint over the rotten wood underneath your naked feet and jump.

Floors into the depths.

Away from the demons, into another certain death.

“Where is the girl?”, Sanemi questions harshly, sword oh so ready to behead that bastard of a demon in front of him while heading down.

Screw this strange place and the countless demons around him, he needs to find you, needs to carry you into safety.

“The girl? She jumped out of a window in order to safe herself. She’s probably dead by now.”

He lets out the breath he didn’t knew he was holding, blank eyes staring at the stone ground his blade has crashed instead of the demon. What was this place?

No, he can’t think about this right now. As fast as his body carries him, he gets out of that cursed mansion, eyes instantly finding your falling body.

Only metres away from crushing into the ground.

Oh, how much you wished it wouldn’t end like this. But maybe this was everything you could do, dying like this is still better than getting eaten up by a demon. Where are those demon slayers? You close your tired lids, enjoy the weightlessness for a brief second. It doesn’t matter now. Hopefully, the demon is long dead before you. At least you're dragging his ass with you…

“Hey, you aren’t dead, are ya?”

That voice…A male voice, without any doubt. So harsh and tempting at the same time that you can’t help but open your eyes in confusion.

Only to be met by purple ones. Male ones, to be exact. Are those...his arms wrapped around your trembling body?

“Let me go!”, you shriek.

It seems like all power that left your body appeared again while you miserably try to fight yourself out of his arms. Who is this man? Another demon, maybe?

“I won’t let you eat me!”

“Eating you? Are you dumb, woman? I’m a demon slayer”, the man in front of you barks, his hands roughly holding onto your arms in order to stop you from hitting him again.

“A demon slayer?” you repeat.

“Yeah, the wind hashira to be exact.”

Your gaze falls from his face to his exposed chest, his toned abs. He breathes heave while still holding onto your arms. Suddenly you feel so…hot.

“You are a demon slayer.”

With a swift motion, you free one of your hands and slap him so hard that he sees stars.

“It sure took you some time to get here! What about all the other women who died here, the countless young girls that were killed by demons you did nothing about? Why did you save me!?”

“I’m wondering that too”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

Did you actually go inane? The way you look at him with your eyes completely furious, face and yukata smeared in your own blood. You can’t be serious about that, right?

“You should be thankful”, he finally hisses.

“Thankful!? YOU should be sorry!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for saving you…you…you ungrateful thing!”

“I could have saved myself”, you argue.

“Oh, is that so?”

No, absolutely not. You would have died if it wasn’t for the wind hashira.

“Everything was under control”, you snap at him.

Nothing was under control. This was your last way out of your misery.

“Is it so hard to just be thankful?”, he argues.

“Who’s your new friend, Shinazugawa?”

“We aren’t friends”, both of you reply at once.

Your heavy breath hangs in the air, hands still clenched into fists. Deep down you know how wrong it is to snap at him, that the demon slayer corps aren’t responsible for the countless lives the demons took in this area. But still…Why does it have to be you they saved? Why not the girl next door who would have married the next day or the girl that was supposed to leave only days after she got killed? It’s not fair, it’s not enough, it’s-

You take a heavy step back when your vision starts to get foggy.

“I won’t catch that brat if she faints now”, the wind hashira grumbles.

“We both know you will.”

The last thing you see are his purple eyes before you fall straight into deep darkness.

-a few days later-

“She’s awake now, Shinazugawa. And she asked for you.”

He hates the way his heart skips a beat by hearing those innocent words from Shinobu. You didn’t leave his head. Despite the state of Oyakata-sama, despite the hashira training, despite the stinging fact that the king of demons himself will come for them, you were always on his mind. You, with your strong but feminine eyes. You, who jumped out of a window into certain death only to keep your body away from the mouths of these demons. You, who straight up slapped him. Was it your attitude that caught him off guard? He never experienced a woman saved by him being this ungrateful. Aren’t you aware of the fact that you would have died that night if it wasn’t for him?

“What do you want, brat?”

His words come out harsher than anticipated while your sight simply takes his breath away. Since he can remember, Sanemi was never interested in any women romantically. No, love is nothing but weakness, women mean nothing but trouble. But even though you glare at him with venomous eyes the second he enters the room, he can’t help but feel drawn towards you.  

“You’re a hashira, right?”

Your words sound just as harsh as his, your gaze meeting his with so much strength that it is him who starts to feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I already told you that-“

“Train me”, you interrupt him.

“I want to become a demon slayer and kick your ass.”

“You, kicking my ass?”

You grab the fabric of his uniform so roughly that he isn’t able to react, suddenly so close to you that he can feel the heat radiating from your body.

“Train me.”

“Fine brat. I’ll train you. But don’t think I’ll go easy on your ass.”

-bonus-

“Try to keep up, (y/n).”

His katana clashes into yours over and over, makes it hard to stand your ground. But still you fight back, your hands holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. You just have to win. There is absolutely no way you’ll lose against your master again.

Especially since he’s your lover.

“Are you tired yet?”, he teases you with a smirk.

“Absolutely not”, you press out while dodging another hit just in time.

This won’t help. If you continue to fight like this, he’ll sweep you off your feet like all these countless times before. But what are you supposed to do? It almost seems as if Sanemi has no weakness.

Except you.

“But you’ll be when I’m done”, you purr.

That sudden change of mood catches him completely off guard, forces him to hesitate for the split of a second.

Enough for you to sweep him off his feet, your body resting on top of his while your blade hangs into his face.

“I won”, you announce triumphally.

“You cheated”, he protests underneath you.

“Demons play dirty as well. You need to be prepared for everything-“

All it takes his one swift motion for him to position himself on top of you, body forcing you onto the ground before you’re able to catch a breath.

“Imma show you how dirty playing really works, then.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345 @komelrebi-san

[mutualcombat]

oh my god why am i awake? why did i write this?

rating: explicit

pairing: astarion/afab!tav (adriannu :3 )

cw: 18+, parallel masturbation, astarion thinking hes being a dom but is mostly just being a creachurrr. worlds smallest reference to his trauma. also this is unedited if you see mistakes no you fuckin didnt (sorry) (set during act 2 btw)

preview:

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

"Will you, darling?" His ask his soft. Gentle. Demure. His voice melts into a whisper. Breathy. As if speaking the very words bring him overwhelming ecstasy. "Pleasure yourself for me?"

Even in the dark space of his tent, Astarion can see Adriannu's fingers move down her belly in a torturous crawl. He inhales sharply, and licks his lips as her hand sneaks through her pressed thighs. Splitting her fingers into a 'v', she draws them up her folds, then down and up again. Her little sigh of relief makes his ears fidget.

He can smell her arousal now. Taste it in the thick of the air. Hear it in the rushing of her blood. A cornucopia of sensual delight, spread out just for him and only on her offer.

"My, just look at you." Astarion leans back on his palms from where he sits at the edge of the leather trunk. He uncrosses his legs and unlaces his trousers to take his cock in hand, kneading the rosy, wet tip between his thumb and forefinger. He exhales; a reverent sigh. "Let me see what other talents those fingers have. "

Adriannu is panting. She's watching him in that strange, half lidded way, like he's an adversary she's sizing up for a fight.

Even so, she does as he instructs. Nude, on her back with her knees drawn up and pressing flush together -- Astarion nearly preens just watching her gingerly push a finger inside. She makes a strangled noise that sounds a lot like relief.

The only thing he's laid on her tonight are his eyes, and still she yields. Obliges his whims like it's gospel.

What a wonder it is to desire again. Or to be desired.

He couldn't stand the hands on him. The grabbing, the pushing. Fabric tearing. Skin bruising. Symptoms of twenty long decades of playing the object.

To actually want for someone that wants him in return... it excites him. Terrifies him. He's elated. Perplexed. Absolutely fucking clueless. He wants to pin Adriannu down and drag his cockhead over her clit until tears of raw pleasure bead at the corners of those strange, canid-like eyes.

The slick sounds of her cunt make his fingers flex, his cock twitch. His shallow breaths are a reflex, not a need. A habit from a time when he was just a man.

He bites the inside of his cheek as she pushes another finger in. Grinds her palm against clit while her fingers pump a slow, agonizing rhythm. Something delicious burns in his gut as he watches her drip over the linens of his bedroll. He knows he'll be burying his nose in it later, whimpering as he desperately knuckles the spot under his sack and rids himself of all the pent up release from this evening and the last.

"Just what are you thinking about over there?" It's Adriannu's amused voice that brings him to. Astarion blinks.

An intrusive, downright salacious thought worms it's way into his head -- tells him how good that smile of hers might look with a set of pristine fangs. A set to match his own.

His mouth goes dry. The hunger in him suddenly burns, and the fire threatens to smoke the beast in him right out into the open.

Across the tent, Adriannu's smile widens as she works herself. She's practically breathless. "I see that face--ah," something she does causes her hips to twitch. "Nasty, desperate creature you are..."

He's on her before she can react. Crawling up her body, cock in hand and practically dripping. His claws catch in the fibers of the bedding before he even realizes they're out.

Planting his knees on either side of her shoulders, Astarion straightens up and, tilting his head back, he gives his shaft a luxuriously slow pump from base to tip. "Maybe I'll show you just how nasty I can really be."

[baldursgat3]

the people have spoken they demand hurt/comfort and I seek to provide. this one was supposed to be short but it got away from me so instead it's 3.6k

i call this one So You've Fucked Up A Resist Durge Saving Throw

Astarion was in love. He wouldn't admit it, yet, not even to himself, but it was true. You were just so perfect. Gorgeous and funny and sweet and a little bit murder happy but that was all right. He didn't mind. He understood a bit of bloodlust. You were really just so kind to him. You made him feel safe and warm and happy in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever experienced before. It had been so long since he trusted someone like this. So long since he felt loved. He tried to pretend he wasn't but you were so good to him. You stood up for him, you didn't force him to bite that repulsive drow. You kissed him so sweetly and held him without any expectation of something more from him. Fight it all he liked, he was head over heels. Which, of course, made it all the more devastating when you finally turned on him. He should've seen it coming.

Astarion was in love. He wouldn't admit it, yet, not even to himself, but it was true. You were just so perfect. Gorgeous and funny and sweet and a little bit murder happy but that was all right. He didn't mind. He understood a bit of bloodlust.

You were really just so kind to him. You made him feel safe and warm and happy in a way he wasn't sure he'd ever experienced before. It had been so long since he trusted someone like this. So long since he felt loved.

He tried to pretend he wasn't but you were so good to him. You stood up for him, you didn't force him to bite that repulsive drow. You kissed him so sweetly and held him without any expectation of something more from him. Fight it all he liked, he was head over heels.

Which, of course, made it all the more devastating when you finally turned on him. He should've seen it coming.

He was pulled out of his trance by a vague pressure. As he quickly woke up, the world came into focus. You were straddling his chest, eyes wide with an unfamiliar frenzy. A moment later his senses registered and he realized what was happening.

Both of your hands were wrapped around his neck, squeezing with intent. He didn't need to breathe as a vampire, but that didn't stop a strangled gasp from escaping his lips. The suffocation might not kill him, but you were still crushing his throat. It hurt like hell and he was terrified.

Had he done something wrong? Something so wrong that you wanted to kill him over it? He had thought everything was going so well, he didn't understand.

His hands flew to wrap around your wrists as he coughed and sputtered - reflexes he no longer needed but ones that lingered regardless. Despite his best efforts, you were stronger than him, even under normal circumstances, he couldn't pry you off.

You looked borderline feral as you loomed over him, leaning all your body weight into his neck. Was this what all your victims saw before they died? Why were you trying to kill him?

He frantically searched with one hand for the dagger he always kept close by. A new horror dawned in his eyes as he realized you must've gotten rid of it. His legs kicked helplessly out as he tried to scream, only succeeding in making a small, gurgling sound.

All he had left were his hands. He sunk his nails into your shoulders, dragging them down with the intent of doing as much damage as he could. It didn't seem to faze you. He tried to claw through the fabric of your shirt, not finding enough purchase to do damage.

He stared up at you, eyes wide with fear. There was nothing familiar there, only a maddened bloodlust. A shiver ran down his spine as the thought came unbidden. “Is this what Alfira saw?”

You had destroyed the girl so violently, he had honestly felt sorry for her. You had expressed guilt after, though. Said that it wasn't you. Perhaps this wasn't you either?

It didn't matter. He felt as your fingers tightened against the back of his neck, lifting his head up off the ground before slamming it back down with a dizzying crack. This would absolutely kill him.

He really only had one line of defense left. He was so hesitant to use it though, especially if this wasn't you. You crashed his skull into the ground again, tearing a shredded gasp from his lungs. He didn't have a choice.

Despite fighting for his life, he still balked just a touch. Once more he sunk his claws into you, this time aiming for the eyes. Your gorgeous eyes that usually looked at him like he was the only man in the world. He knew he should just try to jam his thumbs into both sockets but he simply couldn't. Instead, he settled for carving deep gashes in your perfect, lovely face. Judging by your reaction, that was enough.

The sound you made as you pulled back, clutching at your right eye was animalistic. A loud, pained howl that instantly woke most of your companions.

Astarion scrambled backwards, clutching at his neck and coughing. His head throbbed, he didn't need to feel it to know his hair must be matted in blood already. The world around him spun as he sat up on his knees.

He saw you lunge towards him, only to be intercepted with a full tackle by Karlach. The whole camp was alive now, people shouting and calling both his name and yours. Did anyone else know that this wasn't really you? Was it really you? Were they going to kill you?

His entire body ached, his head felt like it was splitting in two. Maybe it was. He coughed again, doubling over as he felt the tingle of magic at the base of his skull. He felt Shadowheart’s hand on his arm, heard her say something to him but the healing wasn't enough to quiet the ringing in his ears.

Gale hurled a spell at you and, for a moment, Astarion's heart lurched in his chest. Just for that split second, he was certain they were trying to kill you.

There was no fire or burst of necrotic energy, though. Instead, the magic seized your limbs, pinning you effectively to the ground. Karlach had already done an efficient job of keeping you face down in the dirt but you weren't going down without a fight. You finally stilled though, despite the way your muscles tensed in protest. Karlach finally got off, taking a few steps away as everyone simply stared.

At least in this moment, they weren't trying to kill you. That realization, coupled with the healing from his cleric, finally calmed Astarion's nerves enough for him to pull himself back into the present. Honestly, he almost wished he hadn't.

Despite being held tight by the spell, you still were very active. Whatever in you that was driving this frenzy clearly wasn't stopped by a simple spell. You growled and tensed and writhed like a trapped animal. All the while your gaze was fixed on him. You had to kill him, had to feel his blood on your hands, you needed it like oxygen, you needed it, needed it needed it needed it.

“Well what do we do?” Karlach broke the tense stillness that hovered over your camp. “This is kind of a lot.”

How astute. Astarion finally moved, crawling the few feet that separated the two of you, despite a tepid warning from Wyll. He didn't care, he was certain none of these people would understand what he knew about you. Admittedly, though, he was realizing he didn't know as much as he thought.

“Darling…” He tried, softly. You only snarled in response. Your movement was so restricted, your body twitched and spasmed as it tried to break free of the spell. He could see the way your jaw tensed, he could hear your teeth clacking together as though you were trying to bite him.

In the soft moonlight, he finally got a good look at the damage he'd done. The blood was drying on your face already but he'd carved several deep cuts into your perfect skin. It was hard to tell if your eyes were narrowed in your rage or because he'd injured them.

He could hear the rest of the camp talking behind him. It was a little frustrating, actually. They didn't seem nearly as concerned by your distress as he was. Perhaps they didn't see this as distress.

He tried a few more times to quietly break through to you before Lae’zel entered his view. As much as he wanted to stop her from binding your limbs, he didn't exactly have a better alternative. So far his option of ‘Gently Urge Whatever Is Controlling You To Stop' was not exactly panning out. Perhaps if he wasn't recovering from a severe concussion he might've been able to come up with a better idea.

Of course he volunteered to stay up to watch over you. It really only made sense. He didn't really need to sleep anyway and he was worried sick about you. Besides, he figured Lae’zel knew how to tie a pretty good knot. You didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Gale had dropped the spell and, despite straining and thrashing against them fiercely, your bonds held strong.

Slowly, and with a good deal of uncertainty, your companions returned to their tents. Suddenly, Astarion found himself alone with you again. He sat nearby, though squarely out of your reach.

Whatever had your mind in it's grip didn't quite seem to care how tightly you were restrained. The idea that you wouldn't break free didn't seem to occur to you, you just struggled and fought and snarled. He kept waiting for you to stop, to calm down enough that perhaps he could talk you down from this but you never did. You just thrashed about until, finally, exhaustion overtook your body and you collapsed.

~*~*~

You awoke to a quiet camp as dawn's first rays struck you. Your head pounded and your vision was foggy. Your limbs felt cramped and sore. Your face hurt and your vision was blurry and… were you laying in the grass? Why were you out here and not with-

Astarion.

Oh gods, oh fuck. The memory of your conversation with Sceleritas hit you like a bull. With a jolt you sat up, tugging against your restraints as you frantically searched the camp for any sign of your love.

You felt your whole body relax as you spotted him standing just a few feet away, basking in the sunlight. Some of the perfect curls near the nape of his neck were stained red and slightly matted together.

He hadn't seemed to notice your shuffling and scrambling. He was alive so… what happened? Oh gods did you kill someone else?

“You're awake.” Oh, maybe he had noticed you. You couldn't read anything from his voice.

“Astarion… are you… okay?”

He finally turned to look at you, his eyes awash with emotion but mostly just sadness. “I'm not sure.” He could've just stabbed you, that probably would've hurt less.

“What… happened…?” You spoke so slowly, you were so scared to know the answer.

Astarion sighed, walking back over to cut you out of your restraints before sitting beside you. “Well, I'll admit, I didn't care for any of it. I'll say that much about this urge of yours.”

You flinched, drawing your knees up towards your chest. “I- I tried to warn you. I was going to wake you up but… I don't remember anything after that.”

“You woke me up, darling, I can guarantee that.” He scoffed, staring at the ground in front of him. “I thought I'd fucked up terribly, you know. I woke up to you trying to choke the life out of me, I had no idea what I'd done wrong.”

Guilt seized your heart and you had to stop yourself from trying to reach out to comfort him. Gods, you were so afraid of yourself. “You didn't do anything wrong…” The words came out as barely a whisper.

He sighed quietly, turning to look at you. “Is this what happened to the bard?” You nodded. “You don't have any control over it?” You shook your head. “It doesn't have anything to do with something I did?” You shook your head again.

It took him a moment, you could watch him running things through that clever head of his. Before you had a chance to worry, though, his face softened. “Come here, little love.”

You fell into his open arms immediately with a soft sob. What had such a wretched creature like you ever done to deserve someone like him? You curled into him, quietly sniffling against his chest as he held you tight.

“I'm not angry.” He whispered, dropping a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I know what it feels like - to have your will stripped away from you like that.” It was a feeling he wouldn't wish on anyone, let alone the single most wonderful person he'd ever met.

You couldn't help the choked out sob that escaped your lips as you curled up tighter. “It could happen again, though.” You didn't understand this evil compulsion that was able to so thoroughly consume you. You had no way of knowing when it would strike you.

“I'm not afraid.”

“You should be. I am.” Your voice was so fragile. You hated this chant in your head that screamed for his blood. Over and over again visions of his corpse flashed through your mind. It turned your stomach the way your heart fluttered at the thought of holding his lifeless body in your arms.

“Hey.” Astarion's voice pulled you out of the spiral you were beginning to fall into. “Don't get lost on me now, love.” He cupped your jaw, gently turning your head until you were looking up at him.

“We're going to make it through this.” He planted the softest, sweetest kiss on your lips. “You promised me that first, you know. That we would save my mind from Cazador's control. I'm happy to return the favor. We're going to break you free of whatever has a hold of you, my darling.”

It was so sweet. You didn't deserve it. The cruel, twisted thoughts that plagued your mind. The extreme violence you were capable of. You were dangerous, you knew that. He wasn't safe with you. “I'm a monster…”

“No more a monster than I am.” There was a touch of sorrow to his voice, nearly imperceptible. Something about it made this all feel so much more… genuine.

You didn't believe he was a monster, he told you you didn't know what he was capable of. Now here you were, roles reversed and you understood how he felt. He struggled to believe you and you felt the same.

Perhaps you were both monsters. Perhaps neither of you were. Whatever you were, though, it had to be the same. You two were the same. You each knew the other's hunger, understood the agony of losing control of your own body. So many atrocities had been committed by your hands for the will of someone else.

Your hand clutched the fabric of his shirt as you took a few deep breaths. His skin was cold but, still, you felt so warm in his arms. He kissed the top of your head again as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.

“My face hurts.” You whispered, finally, gently playing with the fabric between your fingers. Astarion stilled just a bit at your words, held you just a bit tighter.

He hesitated just a moment too long before answering. “I'm sorry. Can you see all right?”

You hadn't actually noticed, you'd been a little preoccupied with other things like crying and feeling sorry for yourself. Now that he mentioned it, though, things were a bit blurry. You knew there was dried blood on your face, it was probably stuck in your eyelashes.

You brought your hands up to scrub at your face. Only for a moment, though, before a shock of pain shot through your spine. Astarion felt you recoil and only tightened his grip on you further.

Ever so tenderly you brought your hands up to rub at your eyes. The left one was fine, covered with dirt and blood but nothing a good wash wouldn't fix.

The right one ached at even the slightest pressure, though. A wave of panic washed over you. You had already lost so much of yourself with your memories, it was hard enough to cope. The only thing you ever truly knew was how to kill. Losing your vision meant losing your depth perception meant losing your usefulness in combat meant losing the only thing you were good for meant-

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love…” Astarion's gentle words pulled you back from the brink of despair once more. His voice was laced with a heavy sadness as he pressed countless little kisses to wherever he could reach.

You were smart enough to put the pieces together. You had attacked him, he was defending himself. The alternative was letting him kill you. You had no one to blame but yourself.

Even still, you couldn't suppress the shaky sigh that betrayed how close to tears you were yet again. “Please- please don't cry, little love.” Astarion held you so tight to his chest as though he were afraid you would try to break free from his arms at any moment.

He couldn't help the guilt that crept up his chest as he clung to you, desperately. He never wanted to hurt you. Gods, hearing the sad little sounds of distress you were making was going to crush him. It was his fault, he hurt you. He could've taken another hit or two, should've taken them. He could've been louder, could've tried to use his legs instead. Could've done anything but hurt you like this.

Maybe it was temporary, maybe you would heal. He had to hope but… what if you didn't. Would you resent him? If he was the reason this wonderful, perfect- well… whatever it was the two of you had. If he was the reason it ended, because he had hurt you, he wasn't sure he'd be able to forgive himself. As it stood, he wasn't sure if he could right now either.

“I'm so sorry I hurt you.” They were words that should've come from his mouth, yet it was your voice.

“Wh- what?”

“I don't know what happened. I know I hurt you, though. You've got blood in your hair, that couldn't have come from me.”

“I thought I got that out…” A sigh of annoyance escaped his lips before he could remember himself. “But-

“Maybe…” You interrupted, as you leaned all of your weight into his chest. “Maybe we just… both be sorry.” There was a lighter tone to your voice. You were trying to brighten the mood just a bit. Even now you were still trying to be so sweet and perfect. It was a shame the undertones of sorrow and guilt betrayed you.

Still, he leaned his cheek against the top of your head, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Mm… I'm very good at feeling sorry for myself.”

You couldn't help a small, teary giggle at that. “I think today is a good day to send everyone else out for supplies. We both need a chance to recoup after last night.” Still making plans for the day, despite all this. Gods he was so glad you had been made the de facto leader. He would've hated it. It was made ever sweeter that you let him attach himself to your hip.

Then he had to go and fall in love, didn't he? It didn't matter that you tried to kill him. Or that whatever it was that had tried to could wrest control from you again at any time. That wasn't you any more than he was Cazador.

You were the person in his arms right now, quietly rattling off a list of supplies the camp needed and who should find them and where. You were so smart, so thoughtful, so kind. He couldn't stand it.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair, interrupting whatever you were talking about with the smallest gasp.

You stilled in his grip for just a second before you pulled back, just far enough to look at him and not an inch further. “I love you.” Your voice breathless and soft. “So much.”

He pulled you in, closing the small gap between your lips. He had to kiss you and you had no objections. It was warm and soft and perfect. It was almost overwhelming.

He loved you. And you loved him. Now you both said it, it was out there. It felt like a weight lifted off his chest. This ever quiet voice that whispered that you were only using him finally stamped out with just a few soft words.

“I love you.” He whispered again, against your lips. He should've been saying it this whole time. He meant it with his whole heart. No one had ever cared for him the way you have. No one ever captured his cold, fragile heart in their delicate, warm embrace.

“I love you.” You repeated, just as desperate. You had no idea who you were, what you were doing, or what in the hells you were going to do next. You yearned to spill blood endlessly and yet this clever, funny, gorgeous man trusted you enough to love you. Maybe he was a fool but so were you.

I love you. I love you. I love you. The words filled the quiet dawn in between breathless kisses. Said over and over as though they would be forgotten the instant after spoken.

You could've stayed like that for hours. Perhaps you did, you would have no real way of knowing. But time marched ever onwards, your serene moment slipping into the past as the sound of your companions waking cut through the gossamer thin world the two of you had woven.

“Perhaps…” Astarion was the first to speak, though his lips never left yours as he stole more kisses between his words. “Perhaps we should stop.”

With a deep sigh of resignation, you bore the burden of breaking the kiss. Admittedly, seeing the look of adoration in your darling's ruby red eyes was enough consolation to ease the pain. Besides, “We'll have plenty more time once everyone leaves for the day.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Part eight! Buckle up, that's all I will say. Much love.🤍🥹

warning: kids, past trauma, wing clipping, wounds, blood, all the horrors of Illyrian camps.

Not proof read yet!!!

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The room felt warm and quiet. You could hear people talking outside as they passed by, but it didn't bother you. The sound was muffled enough to mix and twirl with the sounds of the river. You had no idea when the last time you slept so peacefully was. Not a single night terror. Not a single flinch. There was no need to jump up every time an unknown sound filled the room. This felt safe. Happy. You blinked a couple of times. You could tell that the room was brightly illuminated by the morning sun, but no direct sunlight hit your eyes. Now you know why. Azriel had his wing wrapped around you, the bridge of it acting as your shield against the careless beam of light. You reached up mindlessly, brushing the tips of your fingers over the delicate leather, making Azriel growl ever so slightly.

You moved to turn towards him. Last night felt like a dream. Cordelia, Azriel's mother, had welcomed you with so much love that it was overwhelming. Zofie and Axel were high on attention. They sang all the songs they knew and even danced together. You had never seen them so lively. So eager to be on the receiving end of attention. Sure, they enjoyed the activities in the sanctuary. But most of them were mandatory. Children had to attend classes and have afternoon activities. And yes, they smiled while doing it, but it never came close to the smile that shined on their faces last night.

You moved your hand to the side, where Zofie usually slept. Eager to brush your fingers through her, no doubt, messy hair since she was way too tired last night to detangle her curls. But all you were met with were the cold sheets. Your heart instantly sank. Your body jolted as you sat up, pushing Azriel's wing away.

"Where are they?", your words came out almost breathless as you looked across the room. There was no sign of Axel either. A warm palm moved to caress your lower back. "Hey, calm down", the spymaster's voice was low and husky. Laced with deep sleep. And even if you wanted to bask in the sight of him, your anxious brain quickly pushed the image of him sprawled out next to you away. "Azriel", you hissed, moving to get out of bed, but he quickly caught your wrist. "They are with my mom", he muttered. "Alone?", your eyes darted towards the window. So many what-ifs were clouding your vision.

"Get back in bed", you felt a tug on your hand. But it was not only the fear for your kids that clawed at you. You two hadn't talked after the kiss. You sat on his lap last night. He had an arm wrapped around your lower back. A feathery kiss here and there. But... what if it was just a high of the moment? What if he had changed his mind? The next tug was way stronger. Azriel practically dragged you up and over his chest. As if it was nothing. As if moving your body around was the easiest thing ever.

"Azriel", you huffed, trying to fight against his touch but knowing full well that there was no way you were getting away from him. So you turned to face him. His loving eyes were already gazing at you. The shadowsinger made a quick move by pushing some of the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes before muttering, "My shadows are with them. They are safe. Mom is looking after them". You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he cut in quickly, "They are eating street pancakes now". A light smile tugged at his lips. A knowing one. "How do...", you muttered. "I see through my shadows. They are safe and happy", Azriel said with a little chuckle, no doubt watching these two do something they probably shouldn't.

"And before you ask, yes, they have mittens on", Azriel jabbed his fingers into your side, making you squirm. "Fuck you", you huffed, rolling your eyes. A deep chuckle slipped through his lips. "I would not decline", the spymaster said in a teasing manner. You gapped at him, shoving at his shoulder. "Azriel", you winced, hating how your cheeks were already getting crimson. "You say my name awfully often this morning, love", he breathed out innocently. But the embarrassment that ran through you had you hiding your face in his neck. Azriel instantly opted to run his palm up and down your back. Fingers innocently brushing against the ham of the shirt you had on. His shirt. Because magically, all of your nightgowns had disappeared, and last night you didn't want to argue with Azriel about it. A tight pang ran through your chest. Brushing a dark layer over the sweet moment. It all felt too good. Too nice. Too calm. You had never... never had a chance to have a boyfriend growing up, so, love, let's say it's been tucked deeply into your chest. Dusty, forgotten. So it couldn't just come undone so easily. Right?

"Stop worrying", Azriel grumbled. You could feel the way his chest moved with every word that he spoke. The fact that he could read you so well when, for so many years, no one could... "I can't", you muttered so quietly. Voice barely a whisper. Azriel quickly shifted, pulling just enough for him to see your face. "Do you think I would seriously let them do something that would put them in harm's way?", his voice was much more serious now. There's not a thread of that teasing undertone. Puff. Gone. A soldier made of steel.

You shake your head, "No", you hate the doubt that still rumbles deep within your gut. "I'm just scared to let them go... I don't know", you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. Azriel quickly cupped your face and turned your attention back to him. "You gave them a chance at a beautiful life, love. This just adds to it". You let out a sigh. "Well, so did you", you smiled at Azriel softly, finger running over his eyebrows, trying to learn every detail of his face. "They adore you", you humed after a moment of silence. The memory of Zofie and Axel making this hulk of a male twirl in the kitchen last night flushed through your mind. "I adore you", Azriel mused softly. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Smooth", you muttered, shaking your head.

But you're met with Azriel's dazed eyes. As if there's nothing he would rather be looking at than you. As if you are the most important thing right now. "You look pretty", and it's the endless love-sick words that cause you to drop your gaze as you try to hide your face from him. "Very funny", you mutter. You could only imagine how disheveled you looked. Messy hair, no makeup. Not put together at all. Most males would run. But not Azriel, as you feel his fingers moving over your bare thighs. "I'm serious. It's like you're... glowing", and you can't take his adorations any longer as you move closer to him, reaching for his face. "What are you doing?", Azriel says as you move to straddle his hips. You only throw him a grin and say, "Keeping your mouth busy."

You two were halfway through your breakfast when the door creaked open and fits of giggles filled the place. You nearly fell back as you moved to stand up, hurrying towards the hallway. Too long. They had been away from you for too long. Waking up without them next to you had left you anxious, no matter the distractions. "Y/n", cheerful squealing filled the space as the two kids took off towards you, muddy shoes still on. "My babies", you kneeled instantly, opening your arms to them. Not minding the cool material of their winter clothes, dampened by the snow.

But keeping them still seemed impossible. Too much energy and excitement still bubbled within their tiny bodies. "You would not believe it! There's a fountain with spinning water fairies", Axel beamed, his hands flailing upwards as he showed you different shapes. "And there are golden flowers, too", Zofie pulled at your hand eagerly. "That sounds beautiful. I hope you were behaving nicely", you looked at the two of them as they nodded their heads.

Azriel watched you from the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest. He had seen the things they had gone up to, so it was you who had his full attention. The way the blanket of worry melted away. Leaving the smell of happiness behind. No longer was there a painful tug deep within him. The pain seemed glossed over. Gone simply. Watching you smile at the two kids, he suddenly realized that he would be fine with watching you like this forever. In reality, it seemed as if he needed nothing else. "Granny bought us roasted chestnuts to try", now those words had made Azriel bite down on his breath, and from your way, your shoulders stiffened; he knew that it struck you too. Granny. Azriel wondered how long it would take his mother to usher the kids to her side. Even if his childhood was horrible, his mother was the only thing keeping him alive. That hour, which Azriel was allowed to spend with her, always fueled him. Ignited enough strength so the tiny bat would not crumble completely.

"These two had stolen the whole town's hearts", Cordelia mused happily, arms full with bags, Azriel moved swiftly, taking them from her. A knowing look on her face said it all. Azriel didn't need to say anything. If he could fool his brothers, he could never fool his mother. "Did you two say thank you?", you gave both of the kids a look, and they once again nodded eagerly. Not missing a beat. Cordelia smiled right back at them.

"Y/N, can I have a quick word?" The older lady turned your way, and dread instantly bloomed within you. You threw Azriel a look, but he just shrugged his shoulders before turning to the two troublemakers, drawing shapes in the mud that they stomped inside. "Let's get you two washed up", he said, lifting the two of them easily, each resting in the crook of Azriel's armpits, laughing hysterically.

"I hope they haven't caused too much trouble, ma'am", you stood up quickly, smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Making a mental note to mop the floors after. "Sweetheart, I thought we agreed on Cordelia", she shook her head in disbelief, but the smile didn't leave her face. "And it's not about the kids...", her eyes followed the noise coming from the end of the hallway. You could hear the mixture of laughter drowning out the silent walls. "It's about my boy", Cordelia breathed.

You watched her gaze get distant for a moment before she squeezed your hand. "My boy, I see the way he looks at you. Last night he couldn't keep his eyes off you", your cheeks heated at her words. You thought the glances were careful. Not too obvious, but it seemed you had been wrong.

"He's a handful at times, but... when he loves... he loves with all that he has", sadness lined her words now. You knew snippets of his past. Who hadn't? The whole court drummed with stories of him. His arms were a dead giveaway of his traumatic upbringing. But you never held that against him. It was a part of him. A part that needed to be loved just as much. "Don't play with his heart", Cordelia's last words came out more like a plea, and your heart bled alongside hers.

"I'll cherish it; I will", You turned to the elderly lady, taking both of her hands into hers. She threw you one of her signature-knowing looks. "Promise to bring my grandchildren around often. Been waiting way too long for them", you can't help but chuckle lightly. You doubted you would be able to hold Zofie and Axel away even if you wanted. They had fallen hard for the love they never got to experience. A grandmother's love. You turned to reach for the rest of the scattered things when Cordelia caught your hand. "And, YN", she said softly, "You were meant to find each other". It felt as if your chest hallowed out for a moment before filling with so much light that it was almost too painful to bear.

Azriel grew more worried as the day moved toward the evening. He was planning and talking with Rhys through his mind. Setting up the final times for the dinner. Shoving Rhys smug ass right out when his brothers started teasing. He was nervous. Was he nervous? He realized now that he had never brought anyone around. Well, he wasn't an innocent man. The three of them had shared females in the same room while they were young. But this wasn't that. This was so much more than that. The thought of having to share you with anyone made Azriel's blood run thick. No, you were his. As much as he didn't want to grow possessive, his scent had mingled with yours. In the same way, notes of oranges and vanilla were now intertwined with his musky scent, in more than one way, you had became his.

A thud from behind the closed door made Azriel lift his head. Axel and he had been waiting in the living room for you and Zofie to get ready. And while Axel had been fully occupied with the book that Cordelia had slipped into his hands, Azriel was growing impatient. He hadn't seen you for over a couple of hours. A couple of hours too long that was.

He heard you hissing Zofie's name, making his eyebrows scrunch. "What's going on in there", the spymaster muttered under his breath. Mostly to himself. So he was more than surprised when he heard a response,"You know females", Axel laughed under his breath, not lifting his eyes from the pages. "Axel", Azriel brushed his hand over his stubble as he tried to contain his smile. That boy was seriously way too smart for his age. Azriel chose to stay back until he could hear the frustrated stomping; that was enough to pull him from his chair.

"Can I come in?", he breathed after knocking softly. The door opened almost immediately, and Mother have mercy on him. He was ready to fall to his knees as his eyes landed on you. Wavy hair falling behind your shoulder, and a deep blue velvet dress hugging every curve of your body. And all of a sudden, the top button of Azriel's shirt felt too tight, cutting off the normal airflow, pants too itchy. The spymaster quickly pulled his eyes away from you, trying to find something else to look at.

"What's wrong", he tried to peek behind your shoulder. Getting a glimpse of Zofie with her hands crossed over her chest. You let out a sigh as you stepped aside, "She doesn't like her hair". Azriel strided ahead, moving toward the little ball of frustration, glaring at the floor as if it had done something to personally offend her.

"Hey, what's wrong?", Azriel directs the question at Zofie, who only pouts harder. "My hair", the girl tugs at her messy curls, the color of the night itself. As wild as her too. "I think it looks pretty", Azriel says softly, but Zofie is quiet enough to throw him a look that tells him that she's not buying his bullshit, no matter how hard he tried. Azriel just shakes his head in disbelief. These kids... His eyes catch a glimpse of a light blue ribbon, his hand reaching towards it almost subconsciously. "Come, sit on my lap", the shadowsinger urges the girl up the bed before his fingers brush through her long hair. And soon he finds himself in that long-forgotten rhythm of braiding someone's hair.

The rest of the evening was a big blur. Brushing at Axel's shirt. Reassuring Zofie that there was nothing to fear. Cordelia waving you all goodbye. Azriel talking, but you barely heard him through your panic. And then there's Rhys walking towards you all on his massive balcony, arms outstretched.

"Welcome, I was worried Azriel had hidden you in his cave", the high lord jabbed at his brother, making Azriel roll his eyes. But he doesn't say anything; his attention is more focused on Zofie, who has her head hidden in the crook of his neck.

"It's good to see you here, darling", Rhys reaches for your hands, and even if you know this man, had seen him at his lowest, it still feels weird being here like this. You work in his sanctuary. You are summoned by him. But it's only his office you agree to go to. Only if he winnows you straight there and back. And you know deep down that you two are linked in more than one way, but you push those thoughts away.

"It's good to be here", you say, smiling up at him. "Hope my brother didn't give you too much of a hard time", Rhys chimed, making you turn towards Azriel, who stood there more than unimpressed. "I'll issue you a paycheck", you chuckle, and you could swear that even Azriel's lip twitched with a smile for a moment.

"Uff, right in the nuts", another, much louder voice cuts in, followed by the sound of heels clicking against the tiles. "Cassian, there are kids around", a female tugged at the winged male's shirt tightly, but that only made his grin wider. "I've seen your head", and it's Axel who's pointing his little finger at the high lord. You quickly bat his finger away, shaking your head at him for the inappropriate gesture. But Rhys doesn't seem to mind as he leans closer to the boy, "And I've heard that you're growing up to be quite a soldier", your eyes darted up to Azriel. Had he been talking about you all with his family? Well, of course, he planned this, but... you can plan something without talking about the person you bring. But Azriel has a proud smile on his face as he watches the boy, and the way his eyes grow big. "Will give us competition, huh", Cassian adds, and you could swear Axel holds himself even taller as he glances at the two males, nodding.

"Why don't we all go inside", a female moves to wrap her arm around Rhys. You don't even need her to introduce herself; you know who she is, Feyre. You've seen her through Rhys's eyes, and, well, she's even more beautiful in person. "Come, my son is excited to meet you too, bud", Rhys reaches for Axel, who clasps the lord's hand tightly. You feel Azriel's hand on the small of your back as he ushered you towards the glass door.

The evening is nothing but lovely. The food is delicious, and the conversation flows surprisingly easily. The light-teasing remarks and jokes that keep flying left and right slowly eat at the tension in your shoulders. And sure, they all seem nice, but you also understand why being here would hurt Azriel. You would have to be blind to not see the amount of love that pours out of the two couples. And even if you were blind, you would still feel it. It's in the air. The looks. The touches. You imagine how lonely it must have been for Azriel. How... your hand reaches for his beneath the table, giving it a little squeeze. The spymaster glances your way, a light smile tugging at his lips.

Your eyes dart toward the three kids next. Nyx is about Zofie's age, and quite frankly, from the moment he saw her, he's been looking at her as if she's hung the stars in the sky. But the two are way too shy to talk to one another. So it's Axel who's been babbling away all evening. You can't help but smile once more. It would be lovely for them to have another friend. Someone out of their circle. And Nyx has wings too. Him and Axel could learn together. The boy practically has a heart of gold, so you're nothing but sure that he would never make fun of Axel for the way his wings were. Considering that that hadn't been brought up ever once tonight.

Just suddenly, the door burst. You don't even get to turn your head to the side before you feel Azriel moving to stand up; the absence of him is instantly unsettling. And then you see it. Someone you knew was missing from this table all along.

"Elain", Azriel's voice is filled with disbelief, and your gut curls into itself. You grip your fork tightly. What right did you have to get upset over this? You watch the surprise rippling through the female, who looks shocked to see Azriel. It doesn't help that she's gorgeous too. From her perfectly braided hair to her light pink dress, she's the complete opposite of you. "Azriel?", she says, shaking her head before leaping into his arms. And something about that hug. The way he's holding onto her sides and the way she has her arms wrapped around his neck makes you want to run away and hide. You feel a light tug at your side, turning to find the two kids now by your chair. Big eyes, full of questions, watching you.

"I thought...", the female stuttered, right as another male walked through the door, still fixing his shirt. "We do apologize for being late", his dark red hair swaying as he moved towards the table. "No, I'm aware that you two have been busy", Rhys purred back with a smirk. A knowing look painted the autumn male's features. "You... you accepted the bond?", Azriel muttered, and it's as if he's freely chosen to take chunks of your heart out tonight. And you're ready to talk and listen about anything but this. You don't want to be here anymore. Anything, you plead, give me anything.

As if summoned by you, a paper note falls right onto Rhys's plate. The male startles for a moment before reaching for it. His face darkens more and more as his eyes race through the words. The high lord's eyes meet yours over the table, "North Camp," and that's all you need to hear before moving to get up.

The dinner is long forgotten after that. Rhys winnows everyone back to the sanctuary. The grip Zofie and Axel have on you is making it hard for you to move. The troupe is getting armed, and you know that you need to be doing the same. "I want to go to Grammy", Zofie says quietly into your skirt. You kneel in front of them, "We can't go now. You two will have to stay in our old room", you say softly. You never had to leave with them present, and suddenly you realize why. Leaving them like this is more than painful.

"I can take them," Feyre cuts in. You saw the way all color disappeared from her face when she saw all of these kids and females in front of her. "You two hear that, high lady will take you to Cordelia", you cup their faces gently. "And Azriel?", Axel looks around, trying to spot the tall figures through the sea of bodies. "I don't know, bud. He was never a part of our world anyway", you hate the words that slip past your lips the moment you see confusion running through the boy's eyes. Your petty hurt is the last thing they need now. So, you kiss both of their foreheads and say, "Don't get into too much trouble without me", you flick both of their noses playfully before stepping away quickly. Turning from them so they won't see the tears on your face.

"Stay close", the voice alone has a shiver running down your back. You turn to face him. Azriel is in full Illyrian leathers, striding towards you. "Don't make this complicated", you hiss through clenched teeth, putting a dagger in the strap around your thighs. "I'm trying to keep you safe", there's that same pleading tone in his voice, but you no longer buy it. Not after tonight. Not after his whole body changed when he saw Elain.

"I was perfectly safe before you came around", you bite back. And you know, the words sting. Taking Azriel by surprise, almost. But you don't know what he expected. For you to bounce back? To not mind. "Take your brothers, go to the upper camp, and find the kids", you say bluntly. You know you are in no position to order him around, but you don't care anymore. Azriel opens his mouth as if to say something before closing it back up. You shake your head at him. And he's left to watch you rush towards the sanctuary soldiers, shouting commands before your hands disappear into a glowing light and everything grows static for a moment. As if your powers had managed to slow down time, draw elements from the air around everyone.

Azriel can't shake the sick feeling as he winnows alongside his brothers. He caught the disapproving look on Rhys's face, but the male said nothing. Deep down, Azriel knows that's not the thing that's making him uncomfortable. He didn't say anything to the kids. He tried to look for them in the sea of people but to no avail. He only found you because a soldier directed him. It's as if you didn't want to be seen by him. His head was a mess; it was not how he imagined the night to go. And Elain and Lucien... It took him by surprise, but he was happy for them. Elain reeked of the autumn male, and Lucien swaggering in all disheveled was a true cherry on top. But they were meant to be together.

"Front door", Rhys murmured through the mind bond, and Azriel only nodded before kicking the door open. The three males inched inside. The letter looked sketchy if Azriel was being honest. A sacrifice. The camp leader made a sacrifice to make a point. Show Rhys that he had no powers up in the mountains. With kids held in the upper cabin before the slaughter. And he could hear the cries, but no matter where they looked, there wasn't a single body in the house.

"What the fuck is this?", Cassian cursed as he yanked yet another door open, only to be met with the same nothingness. "Basement?", Rhys asked, his eyes scanning the floorboards. But they all knew there was no way; the sound was coming from the side. And then Azriel felt it. As if someone reached into his chest, yanked his heart out, and ripped it to pieces right in front of him. Shier panic washed over him. "Y/N," he breathed, stepping towards the front door. "The sounds are illusions", he hissed through gritted teeth. "A trap", Rhys said in disbelief as the same worry coursed through his veins. "Y/n!", a roar slipped past Azriel's lips.

Something felt off, and you could feel it. There were two little people in this camp. No commotion. You couldn't even feel the heartbeats. So what were you slowing down? You looked around, trying to catch the sigh of a single soldier. Your head up to reach for the daggers and do your scope, but there was no one here. A shiver ran down your back. And then the birds fled from the mountains. Rumbling as the snow fell from the top. Whatever caused that to happen...

But you don't get to finish the thought. You heard it before you saw it. You felt it before you could even register what was happening. A painful sob slipped past your lips as an arrow pierced your left wrist. You staggered back. Warm blood trickling down your palm instantly. No, there was no way. You barely lifted your head as another arrow hit your right palm. You let out a cry. Your vision growing hazy. Fear bubbled deep within you. You tried to summon through the pain, but the more you moved your hands, the more blood you were losing.

And then you saw a group of males, all with iron armor. "Fuck", you cursed under your breath, trying to get up and move away. But the arrows must have been dipped in venom. You stumbled, making the males laugh as they slowly inched closer towards you. "Azriel", you muttered quietly. "Azriel, please", your eyes slowly started burning with tears.

"Well, well, well...", one of the males grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the muddy ground towards them. "Two for two, it's my lucky day, boys", the other pulled at your hands, breaking off the tips of the arrows, causing you to scream out in agony. "Please", you pleaded once more.

I'm almost there. Hold on, love. Hold on for me. Azriel's voice filled your head, and you couldn't help but let out a choked-out sob at that. "Why don't we end it once and for all? Pay your daddy an omega", one of the males pulled you up by the hair right as the other threw him a dagger.

"Any last words, princess?", his voice was thick in your ear. But you don't finish. You don't make another move. Reaching deep within yourself, you wrap your hands around the glowing golden thread, caressing it softly one more time before whispering, "I'm sorry". They erupt with laughter; but they don't need to know that those words aren't for them. And then you close your eyes right as the cold blade touches your throat.

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Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace

[burntsaltsblog]

i didn't know - billy butcher x reader

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details: set in season three. you find out that butcher took a dose of tempt v and you're highly pissed<3

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"Who the fuck gave it to you?" I demanded as I threw down my bag and headed straight to Butcher, seated in the back of the boy's office. Frenchi, MM, Hughie, and Kimiko were gathered around him but quickly dispersed upon my sudden arrival. Their eyes were trained on me as I came to stand in front of Butcher, who stared at the floor, avoiding my angry gaze.

Silence wrapped around the room, and I looked at each member of the group after realizing no one was going to answer me.

"I said, who the fuck gave it to you," I seethed through gritted teeth.

"Je ne sais pas, Mademoiselle. Perhaps Monsieur Boucher had a mental breakdown. I heard mid-life crises are quite common in men his age," Frenchie replied, trying to cut the tension with a joke. But I wasn't in the mood. My head whipped in his direction, and my eyes widened in warning. Frenchie backed up slowly and held his hands up in surrender, apologizing quietly.

"Will ya put your bloody claws away? I ain't dying," Butcher said, finally deciding to speak up.

I immediately crouched in front of him and placed my hands on either side of his jaw, turning his head back and forth. "No, but you could have," I muttered, examining him closely. I took notice of the dried blood that caked his face, and my brows creased in concern.

"S'not mine," he whispered.

"Doesn't matter. You still look like shit."

I returned to a standing position, and Butcher looked up at me as he placed his hands over his heart mockingly. "Aw, love, ya flatter me."

My face remained hardened. "It doesn't matter that it isn't your blood because your pupils are blown, the bags under your eyes are the darkest I've ever seen, and if your pulse gets any quicker, you'll have a heart attack. Taking the tempt V was the dumbest shit you've ever done. And that says a lot, considering it's you we're talking about."

"Ok, we're gonna give you guys some space," MM interrupted. I didn't bother acknowledging him and listened as everyone filed out of the room while I kept my eyes on Butcher. This was not an argument I was going to back down from.

After the office door shut softly, Butcher sighed deeply, dragging his hands down his face. "I didn't mean for ya to find out this way."

"You mean that you didn't intend for me to find out at all," I corrected.

"Fuck, doll. Course, I wanted to tell ya. I was waiting for the right opportunity-"

"Oh, yes. I'm sure it was incredibly difficult to find the perfect moment to tell me that you were using an illegal and deadly substance. It's not like you're my boyfriend or boss, who I see every fucking day." Sarcasm laced my tone, and I pivoted away, needing to calm my continuously rising anger.

"Well, now that ya mention it, love, it was a little tricky, considering Mauve only gave it to me last night."

My breath hitched, and I slowly turned back to face Butcher. "Since when did you start having secret meet-ups with Mauve at night?"

"The meet-ups ain't a secret."

"Well, they sure were to me!"

Butcher rose to his feet and stepped forward with a hand extended. "S'not like it sounds. She stops by when she finds tabs on some of the supes we're chasing. Her info has been why we've caught so many of the cunts the past few months."

I nodded my head as I laughed humorlessly. "I'm glad she's been so helpful. Thanks to her, the streets are safer, and you're hooked on something that could potentially threaten your life." I began pacing the floor, my body's way of trying to rid itself of the intense anxiety. "I mean. fuck, Butcher. We've seen what that poison does to adults. There's a reason why it only works on newborns. And I can't fucking believe that you take that shit without even telling me."

I stopped pacing to look at Butcher before continuing. "How did you even know it would work?"

His silence confirmed what I had feared the moment I found out he had injected the tempt V into his veins when Hughie admitted it over the phone.

"You didn't, did you? You didn't know if it would work, yet you took it anyway. Not giving a damn if you were injured or died as a result."

Butcher bowed his head before saying lowly, "If I'm on the same level as these supe cunts, then they have nothing over me. It's a fair fight. One I could win."

"I'm all for killing the fuckers, but that doesn't involve you dying in the process."

"But if that's what it takes, then it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

I stood, stunned, as tears stung my eyes. I stared at Butcher with my mouth parted and heart aching as the realization hit me. "You don't get it, do you?" I asked quietly. My voice threatened to waver, and I harshly sank my teeth into my lower lip to subdue the emotions crawling up my throat. "If something happened to you, do you have any idea what that would do to me?" My voice broke that time, and concern filled Butcher's face.

He started toward me, but I put my hands up as I let the tears fall freely down my face. "I love you so much that if you died, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't fucking live. And I know you don't have any self-preservation instincts, but you'll have to find some. Because if you die, Billy Butcher, I swear to God, I'm going with you."

Butcher charged forward this time and pulled me into his chest as my tears fell quicker. I gasped for air and clutched the collar of his shirt as his strong arms wrapped around my body, crushing me to him. His lips grazed my forehead as he shushed me softly. "S'ok, love. I've gotcha."

He kept repeating the same phrase as he slowly rocked me back and forth. When my breathing slowed, Butcher pulled back and cradled my head in his calloused hands. His eyes traced the details of my face, taking in my bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I didn't know, doll. M'sorry," he mumbled as he used a thumb to catch a stray tear.

"You didn't know how much I love you?" I asked. My voice came out horse and strained.

He shook his head. "I didn't know how much my death would affect ya. I-" he hesitated before tilting my face up so I could meet his lips in a kiss. It was slow and deep, displaying the love we both felt for one another.

When we parted, Butcher rested his forehead against mine. "M'not used to having someone care about me. After Becca left, I was on me own, and for years, my only priority was killing every fuckin' supe cunt that I came across, no matter the price." He shook his head. "M'so sorry, sweetheart. If I'd known it would do this to ya, I never woulda touched that fucking supe venom, I swear."

I wordlessly pressed my face back against Butcher's chest and breathed in his comforting scent of mint, nicotine, and whiskey. His arms rewound around my waist, and I closed my eyes, wanting to memorize the way his body felt against mine. How safe I felt when he held me like this.

"Promise me, Billy," I whispered as I pulled back to look into his face. "Promise me that you won't touch that shit again. And if you want to do something that drastic, talk to me first." My fingers fiddled with a button on his shirt as my eyes drifted away from his stare. "I need you, Billy," I whispered so quietly I wasn't even sure if he heard me.

Butcher placed a finger underneath my chin and tilted my head so I would look back up at him. "I promise ya, love, with everything I have, that I won't pull some shit like that again. You have my word."

I nodded as my hands found their way into his hair and tugged his lips back down to mine. "Thank you, Billy. I love you."

"I love ya too, doll."

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[targaryenrealnessdarling]

The Hunger

Summary: During his time aboard the ship, rations slowly dwindle, and Ettore begins to feel that familiar call of violence | Word Count: 3k~ | Warnings: blood, gore, cannibalism(?), severe biting, murder, delusions, dubcon

A/N: Happy Halloween, here's my absolutely disgraceful offering for you 😂 I wanted to write something icky so bon appetite ig

Hunger makes a beast out of a man.

He knew the feeling well. The deep, primal surge of hunger in his gut. Had known it first, when he had been born, screaming and covered in blood and mucus. Had felt it every fucking day since he was old enough to reach the cupboards above the counter, rummaging through half-empty shelves and devouring a can of canned peaches that were four years out of date.

He can still taste them.

Even when he stabs his fork into his bowl, pulling out a glob of the tasteless mush. Dr Dibs lovingly branded them ‘nutrition packs’. It was food, yes, in the same way breathing recycled air was living. He swallowed it quickly, as if to bypass the taste entirely, but the acidity lingered on his tongue, and no matter how much he ate, he never felt full.

The dining area was silent but tense, as always. A few crew members sat scattered around the small room, picking at their own portions in dim, flickering light. No one spoke, barely even looked up. After months, years? Of the same routines, these were not people, just background noise.

He scraped the spoon across the bottom of the pack, pulling up the last bits, swallowing every fragment, his throat working hard to force it down. And still, nothing. No satisfaction, not even the illusion of it.

Across from him, a small man with wide eyes and a face pale as milk, was scraping his bowl slowly, methodically, taking tiny spoonfuls. Ettore’s gaze fell to the man’s bowl, then down to the faint smear of mush left in his own pack.

You’re starving, his mind whispered. Look at the others. They’re hoarding. Taking more than their share.

He closed his eyes, shaking off the thought, but the dull ache in his stomach throbbed and burned, relentless and needy.

The body adjusts. It always adjusts. Dibs had said once.

Something raw and restless tapped inside his mind. Relentless.

Perhaps it was the same hunger he had felt before. A dark urge to take, to control. Something weaker would do. The rules were written but not enforced, and it certainly wouldn’t take Dibs’ word to stop him from fucking who he wanted. He’d done it before. And he’d do it again a thousand times over.

Her cell was just a few doors down, set apart from the others. She was one of the few who didn’t recoil from him, who met his gaze without that wary flicker of fear in her eyes. She understood him, or perhaps she just didn’t care. Either way, she’d let him in before, and she would again.

“What do you want, Ettore?” Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, but there was no resistance in it. She glanced over her shoulder before stepping aside, letting him in. “You know we’re not supposed to.”

And yet she lets me in, he smirks.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied her in the low light, the way she folded her arms over herself, wary but willing. Her eyes traced his face, maybe sensing something different in him tonight. He didn’t care. And she, as always, gave in to the pressure of his presence, letting him guide her back toward her bunk with quiet, easy compliance.

He let himself sink into it, feeling the softness of her skin, hoping that maybe this would fill the restless hollow clawing at his insides. He needed this, or at least he wanted to think he did. She breathed his name softly as he pressed his mouth to her shoulder, dragging his lips along the curve of her neck, his fingers digging into her hips with bruising intensity.

Perhaps the sight of her naked body under the blue light would be the balm to his tortured thoughts. He watched as her skin rippled and moulded under his palm, her breasts laid plump in his grip, her bare stomach, leading to that place between her thighs that he used to feel powerful.

She was always ready for him, even when he barged in like this. Fucking slut, he thought. She choked out a low moan, breathy and quiet when he slid into her, so easily it was like she yielded around him. Her insides were silky smooth, moulding to him like she was fucking made for him. But he never took his time to savour it. Ever. His hips slammed against hers, as if he wanted to come as soon as possible to not explore the possibility that he might actually like this. Like her.

But he didn’t want to come too soon. This hunger. It must be sated.

He kissed her neck, harder this time, his teeth grazing her skin, feeling the thin membrane give way under the pressure. She shifted under him, her fingers digging into his back, but she didn’t pull away. It only pushed him further, the taste of her skin. Salty, warm. Alive.

Without thinking, he bit down harder, pressing his teeth into her flesh, deeper until he felt her tense in pain and clench around his cock. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t stop him. The sensation of her skin breaking under his teeth sent a thrill through him, a dark satisfaction that made the hunger swell, feral and desperate, impossible to resist.

She shuddered, her breath ragged, and he could feel the way her pulse beat, quick and erratic, against his lips. He bit down again, harder this time, his teeth sinking in until he felt the soft give of muscle under her skin. She whimpered, her hands tensing against his shoulders, but she stayed still, letting him take what he wanted, even as his grip grew rougher. Surely this was no different to how they usually fucked. Right?

The hunger roared to life inside him, dark and consuming, urging him to go further, to take more. Each bite, each taste, only fed the fire burning in his core, and for the first time, he felt the hunger truly subside, consuming her in this brutal, primitive way. Her skin broke easily under his teeth, and he felt the rush of warmth on his tongue, a taste so sharp and vivid it made him shudder.

“Ettore,” she gasped, a tremor in her voice as she pushed weakly at his shoulders. “Stop.”

Her protests were soft, half-swallowed, and even as her hands pushed against him, it only fuelled the fierce, primal satisfaction that surged through him.

“Ettore, enough—” Her voice broke, louder this time, her body twisting beneath him, her hands pushing harder as fear crept into her gaze. “Stop. Please.”

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Her resistance was intoxicating.

Her hands clawed at his shoulders, her fingers slipping as she tried to push him off. He felt his balls tighten, his cock throb, and the blood pooling on his tongue.

“Ettore—stop!” Her voice broke, louder now, urgent. She braced her hands against him with all her strength and shoved, finally managing to wrench herself free, breaking his hold. The sudden force jolted him back, snapping him out of the consuming haze of hunger as she scrambled back on the bunk, her breathing fast and uneven.

They stared at each other in the dim light, her eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief. She reached up to touch the marks, her fingers coming away red, her lips pressed into a thin, hard line.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his chest still heaving, the taste of her still lingering on his lips. He could feel the lingering pulse of his hunger, ebbing but not gone, and he realised with a sick, hollow certainty that he wouldn’t have stopped, couldn’t have stopped, if she hadn’t pushed him off.

“Get out.”

He wiped his mouth with his hand, pulling his sweats over his erection, still half-hard, denied his release. Lips pressed tightly together, he rose to the door, muttering under his breath.

“Bitch.”

As he stepped out into the dim corridor, the events of the night replayed in his mind. The hunger had eased, churned less in his stomach. From the fleeting intimacy, or from his morbid desire to feel her warm life essence on his tongue, coating his throat? He couldn’t be sure.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the doubt that clung to him. It doesn’t matter, he told himself. It was just a moment. Just a fleeting thrill.

But as he made his way to the common area the next morning, the atmosphere felt off. Tension crackled in the air like static electricity, palpable and unsettling. The rations were running low, and everyone was on edge, glancing at the dwindling supply with growing apprehension. They all knew it, the gnawing anxiety that settled in their stomachs like a stone.

Ettore sat alone at a table, pushing his cold, meagre breakfast around on his plate, his appetite evaporated.

And then it happened. A sharp scream echoed through the metal halls, cutting through the morning haze. Ettore’s heart raced as crew members sprang to their feet, faces paling. He felt a chill run down his spine, dread pooling in his stomach as he followed the crowd toward the source of the commotion.

Her body was sprawled across the metal floor. Lifeless and still. Not at all as he had known her the night before. Her neck was ripped open, fat and flesh splayed out for all to see, crimson pooling around her head, stark against the dull grey of the ship.

Ettore stepped closer, a part of him refusing to believe what he was seeing. The crowd around him whispered in hushed tones, but their words were drowned out by the roaring in his ears. No…

He could see the marks he had left on her neck, a stark contrast to the gaping wound that now marred her skin. The blood, so much blood, spilled out like a dark flower blooming across the metal floor. He felt sick, the world tilting on its axis. And yet a morbid curiosity prompted his eyes to linger.

The memory of their night together came flooding back, and he fought to recall the details. Did she really push me off?

Had it really been just a night of passion, or had he crossed a line he couldn’t remember? 

Her body was swept away quickly. Dibs wanted to keep her death as quiet as possible. And yet whispers echoed in the halls. Driven perhaps by a desire to keep their minds off their rumbling stomach, growling with need. 

As he lay awake that night, the darkness pressing down on him like a weight, he wondered if this was what madness felt like, a hunger he couldn’t satisfy, a shadowy doubt he couldn’t shake. And, somewhere in the void of his thoughts, an insidious question echoed, gnawing at him as hungrily as the emptiness in his stomach.

What if the hunger demanded more than food?

It was only one day, when rations were not served for breakfast. That people began to truly panic. People hoarded what they had. People stole others’ food. Fought for it.

But Ettore’s hunger had become a beast of its own. He tried to ignore it, tried to sleep it off, even rationed what little food he had left, but nothing seemed to touch the empty pit in his stomach.

He hated that his last resort for advice was Dibs. She was a doctor, yes, but at the same time she was an evil bitch, he thought. Not only had she once subjected the women to fertility experiments, until too many of them died, he suspected she was performing on others without telling them.

Could she have been slipping something into the water supply? Sedating them? It was possible.

He sighed, annoyed, as Dibs tightened the blood pressure monitor around his arm. "Something in particular bothering you?"

He rolled his eyes, "Dunno. Just feel out of it."

The machine growled to life, tightening around his arm. His eyes wandered over the many glass bottles of medicine that adorned her desk, documents alike. Morphine. Ketamine. Cortisol.

"Blood pressure is fine," she says dismissively, tugging the band off him, before turning back to her desk to pull some clear liquid into a syringe.

"I'll give you some sedative. Help you sleep."

He barely had time to protest before the needle was in his arm. The liquid cold as it entered his body. He hated that feeling. Right next to the feeling of powerlessness, feeling much like a doll Dibs was simply poking.

Days bled into each other, reality blurring at the edges as he drifted through the sterile corridors, his movements automatic, mechanical. The hunger grew sharper, more insistent, and with it, his thoughts began to fracture. It was as if his mind was breaking into pieces, each one lost in the vast, consuming darkness that filled his chest.

He’d catch flashes of things, brief, violent images that made his skin crawl, moments where he felt like a stranger in his own skin, his own mind a cage he couldn’t escape. Even sleep was no escape.

What had Dibs done to him.

He woke to find blood smeared across his hands, dried in crimson streaks along his forearms, staining the edges of his clothes. A sharp, metallic scent filled his nose, triggering a wave of nausea that clawed its way up his throat. Panic gripped him as he stumbled to his feet, breathing fast, frantically trying to wipe the blood away, as if erasing the evidence would erase whatever he’d done.

But it was no use. The blood was everywhere, staining his skin, his shirt, pooling in the creases of his hands like an accusation. His mind raced, trying to claw through the fragments of memory, but all he found were empty gaps, blank spaces where images should have been.

He’d killed them. Most of them, anyway.

Some, he remembered, had been quick, too quick, barely a struggle before he felt their pulse weaken beneath his grip. Others, he’d toyed with, feeling the thrill as they’d tried to escape, the flash of terror in their eyes when they realised what he was capable of. And with some, he’d torn into their flesh simply to feel the give, the soft, yielding texture between his teeth. He could almost taste them now, the salt of their blood, the way it seemed to dull the hunger… for a moment, at least.

The ship felt emptier, darker. And yet, in the silence, he could feel it, a faint rhythm, pulsing through the walls, in the floor, echoing in his ears like a heartbeat. 

They’re still here, he thought, his senses sharpened, attuned to every slight vibration, every distant shuffle. 

There were still some left, hiding somewhere in the ship, cowering in the corners he’d yet to search. He could almost smell their fear, a scent that made his stomach twist in anticipation, igniting the primal urge inside him.

He stepped out into the corridor, his fingers trailing along the walls, leaving smudges of blood streaked across the metal. The silence was thick, punctuated by the occasional flicker of a dying light overhead. Blood smeared at various points throughout the ship, evidence of his rampage, a streak on the wall here, a handprint there, a dark, sticky pool marking where one of them had tried to crawl away.

Then he turned a corner and stopped short, his gaze landing on a figure ahead. Dibs, standing there, her lab coat rumpled, smeared with her own traces of blood. She looked wild, frantic, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desperation as she took in the sight of him. 

“You,” he rasped, the hunger in his voice a guttural thing, raw and insatiable.

Dibs swallowed, and he could see her pulse racing beneath her skin. She raised her chin, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. “I… I can undo it, Ettore,” she said, her voice tight, wavering. “I can fix what’s been done to you.”

He stared at her half-lidded, the words barely registering, his vision tunnelling in on the way her pulse beat, fast and frantic, against the hollow of her throat. “Undo it?” he murmured, a twisted smile curling at his lips. The thought was laughable, absurd. Undo it? When he’d never felt more alive?

“The…the hunger. I heightened it. Amplified your instincts, your…your drive to survive. It was a mistake, I can still stop it, Ettore.” Her voice wavered, the words rushed as if she could force him to understand. 

“I don’t want you to stop it.”

“Ettore, listen to me. This isn’t who you are,” she insisted, her tone strained, searching for a sliver of the man she thought she’d created. “You’re under a chemical influence, altered, manipulated to feel this way. You’re not in control–”

In a sudden, fluid motion, he surged forward, his hand closing around her throat, cutting her voice off mid-sentence. Her eyes widened, a flash of terror sparking in them, and for a moment, he watched the shock ripple over her face, the dawning horror of what was happening. Her fingers clawed at his hand, her grip weak, faltering as he tightened his hold.

Her body jerked in his grip, her breaths coming in desperate, shallow gasps as she tried to pull away, but he held her firm, feeling her pulse beat faster, thundering against his fingers. 

“Control?” he murmured, a dark, mocking smile pulling at his lips. “I’ve never felt more in control.”

With a final, merciless twist of his hand, he silenced her, the life fading from her eyes as the last of her breaths slipped away, the crackle of her voice ringing low and primal. Her neck was snapped most unnaturally, blood gushing forth from the wound that cracked open like a peach, overripe.

The silence returned, cold and complete, settling over the corridor like a shroud. He released her, her body slumping lifelessly to the floor. The hunger, raw and consuming, coiled in his chest, easing but never fully sated.

A sharp, electric thrill buzzed through him, potent and addictive, his blood pounding hot and fierce beneath his skin. He savoured it, letting it pulse through him, letting himself feel it fully.

The hunger clawed at him still, restless and eager, and he felt a strange sense of clarity settle over him, sharper than anything he'd felt in weeks. It wasn’t about food. It wasn’t even about survival anymore.

It was about sport.

The hunger thrilled at the violence, at the way his pulse quickened with each ragged breath the victims fought for. This wasn’t just about survival. It was the power, the brutal thrill of watching them crumble under his hands. 

He wanted to see the light fade from their eyes. The muscles relax into submission. As she had done.

There were still others hiding, he could feel it, like faint beacons, waiting to be found. Waiting to be hunted. He grinned, his mind sharp, focused. The hunger roared in approval, urging him forward, whispering that the game had only just begun. There was nowhere for them to go after all.

Hunger makes a beast out of a man.

...

@1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69

@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[macabr3-barbi3]

loved this one WHEW 💕🥵

Tags: Daddy kink, that's it, that's the whole fic

🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵

The first time Vox calls himself ‘Daddy’ while you’re fucking him you freeze up so immediately that he thinks he’s done something wrong. “Fuck, baby, taking Daddy so well,” he had muttered in your ear, and the sharp, sudden swoop of arousal in your gut had caught you off guard, moan choking off into a high pitched whine as your body went still. He looks down at you, expression twisted in concern as he realizes what he had said and blushes, pixels going pink. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, and resumes railing you as normal, hand slipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You bite your lip as you cum to hold back the title, head thrown back while Vox finds his own release and you wonder what to do with this new information.

You keep your distance for a few days, keeping occupied with busy work- you paint the living room of your shared floor in Vee Tower, offer to help Velvette with one of her shows, make sure that Valentino’s actors have a steady supply of food and drink in the studio. You don’t let Vox touch you for a week, despite your obvious need and his growing frustration. Finally on Sunday, when he lets Katie Killjoy take over the evening news, he comes home to the trap you’ve set. As soon as you hear the elevator door open with a ding you let out a loud moan from the bedroom, a siren call for Vox to come in and see you spread across the sheets of the bed you share, skin bared and your fingers working tirelessly between your legs. 

“H- hey baby,” he manages to get out, a glitch flashing across his screen as he approaches, fingers reaching for you before he’s even close enough to the bed to touch. “Fuck, look at you- soaked and ready for me, huh?” He slides a hand down the length of your thigh towards your core, swearing under his breath when you grab his hand and guide his fingers to the slick folds of your cunt.

“Please, Daddy,” you whine, and his fans let out a wheeze in place of an actual breath as he crouches over you, his screen dropping for a moment so you’re looking at the back of it instead of his face. 

When he looks back up to you his eyes are narrowed, mouth hanging open and his tongue out- he drags it up the length of your body from pelvis to tits, letting his sharp teeth scrape the sensitive nipple before he pulls off. He presses a finger into you, then a second when he finds that you’re already open and desperate. “Goddamn, doll, you didn’t have to blueball me all week for this,” he mutters. “You could’ve just asked- Daddy’s gonna give it to you either way.”

There’s the feeling again, that sharp shock of pleasure and arousal at the term, pussy clenching hard around his digits. “Please, I need it,” you whimper, and he pulls his fingers from your body and curls his tongue around them, using his other hand to line his cock up with your dripping slit and pushing in with a sharp thrust. “Oh fuck-”

“That’s right, sweetheart, Daddy’ll take care of you,” he growls, hooking his arms under your knees and dragging you further towards the edge of the bed. “So fucking perfect for me, taking my cock- you like that?” He slams his hips into you, fucking you with the conviction of a man possessed. Your fingers fly down to the bed, digging harsh lines into the sheets with the pressure from your claws.

“God, please,” you beg, already close on your own, the hard length of him spearing you hurtling you ever closer to that edge. “Daddy- Vox, please,”

He snarls, sharp teeth snapping as he leans in closer and folds you nearly in half. “Should’ve known- I thought you froze up ‘cause you were didn’t like it, baby, didn’t realize you were embarrassed by how much you fuckin’ wanted it.” He angles your hips, drives himself into you harder, faster, the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room along with the groans and whimpers that he’s drawing from you.

“Fuck,” you whine, the words tearing from your mouth- you can almost feel the wave behind your eyes , waiting to crest, searching for that final shove to break the tension. “Fuck, gonna- please, Daddy, I need it-” Every time you say it his hips jerk, shoving more forcefully into your wet cunt, claws digging into the flesh of your hips.  

Vox’s left eye swirls, no power behind it, just showing how overwhelmed he is as well when he lets go of your leg on one side to rub forcefully at the bundle of nerves above your drenched pussy, where he’s got you stuffed full of him. “Go ahead, beautiful, cum on Daddy’s cock, show me how pretty-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, your keening cry as the pressure inside of you releases, drowning him out. Your soft walls clamp down on him, the rippling muscles pulling at the rigid length of his cock inside of you, coaxing him into his own orgasm right behind you. Your mind is fuzzy, but still aware enough that his grunts of “fuck baby, take Daddy’s cum, good girl” light up the pleasure center in your brain as he floods you in long pulses. His hips jerk and stutter against you until he finally collapses against you, screen pressed gently into your bare chest and leaving little kisses on your skin.

“Fuck me,” he says, and you can’t help but giggle, running your fingers over the little ports on the back of his head, relishing in his shiver at the touch. “Why didn’t you just tell me you liked it? You didn’t have to spring a trap.”

“God forbid a woman have hobbies.” He pulls out and flops onto the bed next to you, allowing you to roll and rest your head on his chest. “Besides, this was more fun.”

“You should greet Daddy like this after work more often then, doll-”

“Don’t fuckin’ push it,” you tell him, and his rumbling laughter where you’re pressed against him is relaxing, wrapping his arms around you in a firm, secure embrace.

[slxtslovebambi]

Teasing him in front on his friends

Suna Rintarou x Fem!reader

Mentions of Aran and Miya Twins.

Synopsis: Getting on Suna's nerves while he is with his friends probably wasn’t the best idea.

Warnings: Nsfw, Thigh riding, slight exhibitionism?, power dynamics, spanking, orgasm denial, begging, kinda degrading?

Wc: 1.7k+ | MDNI

Suna loves his pretty girl.

He loves watching his friends gush over you, and he loves the fact that he’s the only one that gets to touch you in all the places he wants.

Right now you’re placed in his lap with your head resting on his shoulder while he’s talking to Aran, Atsumu and Osamu as you’re almost falling asleep.

You love Suna's friends, you really do, but you’ve been tired all day and you just want to go home.

You want to watch TV and cuddle with him, but it doesn’t seem like your boyfriend is planning on leaving soon.

"Rin…" you mumble quietly in his ear, just loud enough for him to hear.

"What’s wrong princess?" He pauses his conversation with his friends while looking down at you.

"Can we please go home? Please?" You give him your puppy dog eyes while you claw at his shirt.

"Now?" He sighs before checking his wrist watch.

"Mhm." You respond calmly.

"Just one more hour baby I promise."

He doesn’t want to leave yet. It’s not often that he sees his friends after graduating Highschool, right now he just wants to catch up with them and have fun.

"But I’m so tired." You pout at him.

"C’mon baby stop bein' so cranky. You’ll get a reward later if you behave now."

He makes you sit up straight so that you can face him and look him in his eyes.

"I don’t want a reward, I wanna go home!" You hiss at him before you pinch his chest.

You can barley keep your eyes open and you’re starting to get annoyed at the fact that he cares more for his friends than for you, but you immediately regret raising your voice at him after you see the way he looks at you. If there’s one thing that your boyfriend hates, it’s dumb little girls acting like brats, and not only that but in front of his friends too.

He just waves off and continues to ignore you again, what doesn’t mean that he’ll let you get away with the little outburst you just had, he’s just going to take care of it later.

You keep on trying to get his attention but it seems like he just doesn’t care, he acts like you’re not even there, and keeps talking to his friends about the most random things. You’re starting to get frustrated while you think of different ways to make your boyfriend want to leave with you.

Mindlessly you begin moving in his lap when he wraps his hand around your waist to make you sit still as you get an idea. You rest your head against his chest before you start slowly rubbing your clothed pussy on his thigh. Your left hand slides under his shirt, where you hold onto his belt.

Suna immediately realizes what you’re doing and it doesn’t go unnoticed by his friends either. He roughly grabs you by your shoulder before gritting his teeth.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doin'?" He glares at you.

"I think yer girl needs some discipline Suna."

Atsumu giggles. It seems like this entire situation is pretty amusing to him.

"Shut the fuck up, like ya know what a girl needs Tsumu." Osamu interrupts his twin, as he hits his shoulder.

You still don’t stop grinding on his thigh, the spite the fact that it’s obvious that everybody’s watching you. If Suna doesn’t want to listen then he has to learn it the hard way, at least that’s what you thought before he grabbed your chin to leave a slap on your cheek.

"We’re leavin'." Is all he says before standing up and dragging you after him.

"Take care Suna." Aran and Osamu figured that acting like nothing happened would make things easier for you, since they know how Suna can be.

"Make sure ya don’t break her, she still needs to come to my game on Saturday." Atsumu jokes as you wave all 3 of them goodbye.

"Shut the fuck up." Suna responds before dragging you out.

。 ☆★☆ 。

"You seriously pissed me off today princess."

Suna pushes you onto your shared bed after he just took off your shirt and bra, exposing your tits to him.

"It’s your fault, you ignored me!"

You roll you’re eyes at him while trying to cover your chest. One stern look from him is enough to make you realize that hiding your body won’t help you right now. You let go of your chest and look up to him where his and your eyes meet.

"My fault huh?" He says while holding you in place by your waist.

"Mhm." You stand your ground.

"I should put a fucking collar on you since you wanna act like a fuckin' dog."

He moves your skirt out of the way before rubbing his thumb against your inner thigh.

"On all fours." Is all he says. You choose to not disobey him again, since you don’t want to make things worse than they already are. You feel Suna's hand trailing over the soft flesh of your butt while your face is pressed into the mattress.

"Now be a good girl and count for me yeah?" He says before you feel his hand harshly spank your behind. "O-One." You start counting. "Mhm, just like that." He praises you before slapping you again. "Two." You continue counting like Suna wanted you to. "That wasn’t loud enough." He says as he places another firm slap on your ass. "Three." You cry out loudly when you feel the pain starting to get worse and the well known stinging that’s probably going to make sitting very difficult for you for the next two to three days.

Ten slaps later and you’re so overwhelmed that you just start whining into your pillow. You wouldn’t be surprised if your neighbors could hear you by now but it’s impossible to keep your shit together with your ass burning like that. You’re sobbing while begging Suna to stop.

"C-Can’t a-anymore. P-Please, hurts to m-much." You whimper.

"Shut up and fucking take what I give you, understood?"

He warns you as he slides your panties down to your ankles before tossing them to the side. You nod slowly at his threat as he turns you onto your back and slowly presses his thumb against your clit.

He wraps his other hand around your throat tightly while smirking viciously at the fact that you’re pussy's already soaking wet for him. You can feel the metal of his rings pressing against your skin, as you gasp for air. Suna immediately feels your body twitching lightly when he slides his middle and ring finger inside of you. You grab his wrist and try to remove his hand form your neck but he just tightens his grip.

"R-Rin I- I.." you try make him stop, digging your nails into his skin but he just won’t let go.

"You want me to stop?" He asks as he looks down on you.

You just nod in response.

"Apologize to me first."

"I’m s-sorry." You barley get out.

"Say I’m sorry for bein’ a selfish little attention whore." He commands harshly as he removes his fingers from your clenching pussy to sluggishly insert his already stiffened cock inside of you.

Your head turns to the side and you whine in pain as Suna's hand forcefully grabs you by your hair to make you look at him.

"Say it!" He yells at you while tears start rolling down your face. He starts moving carefully while trying to keep himself from moaning by biting down on his lip. Fuck, he loves you for always making him feels so good, but there’s no way he’d ever let you know, especially not if you were acting like a bitch earlier.

"I-I’m sorry for being-ahh a s-selfish…." All the sobbing makes it difficult for you to think straight, what keeps you from being able to finish your sentence.

"C’mon princess you almost got it." Suna looks at you expectant while still holding you by your hair as he starts to move faster.

"For being a sel-selfish little a-attention Whore." You finish with a mortified look on your face.

"Mhm that’s right, you wanna be my good girl again?" He asks as he lets go of your hair.

"Y-Yes please." You beg mindlessly as the tears in your eyes make it hard for you too distinguished anything.

"Wanna feel good baby?" You hear him laughing quietly to himself as you let out a small, "Mhm.".

"Should I go deeper princess?" He knows exactly what your answer is going to be and yet he asked just cause he wanted to hear you say it.

"P-Please go deeper, I need you to go d-deeper Rin!"

You’re so desperate for him right now that it’s humiliating in many ways, especially since you were the one that started all of this. Of course you don’t regret it but you might think about it twice if you want to annoy your boyfriend next time. Suna holds you by your waist as he deepens his thrusts.

"Why can’t you just listen to me? You think I like doing this?"

He hisses under his teeth.

"I love treating you like a princess but you just keep makin' things difficult for me."

You can feel how frustrated he is by the way he’s slamming his dick inside of you with not a single bit of pity in sight. He feels you tightening around him, knowing that it means that you’re about to cum.

"Oh so you’re close hmm?" He hums devilishly.

You nod your head yes as you feel your body getting ready to release yourself right on his cock, wich is still hammering inside you when suddenly all your pleasure reduces to zero. You can’t even comprehend what just happened to you when you yelp loudly and notice that Suna stopped moving completely.

You whine and whimper, trying to rub your behind against him when he violently smack your butt again, right where you were already sore.

"You really thought I’d let you cum? Silly little girl… Tonight only I get to cum.

♡───◌┈───♡⃝──┈◌───♡ ———————————————————

I really don’t know how to feel about this lmaoo. I started so many works but I just don’t know how to finish them, so I’m sorry if this is kinda rushed! :(

Don’t forget to Follow and Reblog <3

———————————————————

[envysparkler]

ambushes

Dick started it.

In his defense, his replacement was a twelve-year-old who looked like he was nine, and Dick overcompensated when he grabbed Jason’s arms and swung with far too much force for the surprisingly light frame.

Dick had meant to twirl him.  Get that annoyed scowl off his face, because Jason could imitate a storm cloud like no one’s business, but when he blushed his whole face turned as red as a fire truck.

It was practically Dick’s brotherly duty to tease the kid, and the cuter his little replacement was, the less Dick’s stomach felt like clawing itself apart, so.

He’d been intending to twirl the kid.

But his grip was too loose and his force too strong and Jason slipped out of his grasp with a yelp as Dick sent him flying.

Thankfully, his trajectory was met with a couch.

Jason clawed himself out of the cushions, spitting mad, his cheeks turning pink, and Dick laughed.

It was hilarious.  Jason’s dark glare promised revenge, but Dick was the older brother, and Jason was a whole foot shorter than him.

Dick ruffled the kid’s hair as he passed by, still grinning.

~#~

Jason continues it.

Jason continues it with Damian because the League’s where he learned it – Bruce never let them train in the Manor, and Jason had never been stupid enough to drop his guard on the streets.  But the League, yes, it had been a home once, but never a safe place, not when tests and traps and tricks lurked around every corner.

Damian’s eased away from that ever-present state of alertness.  Dick’s trained it out of him with praise and cuddles, most likely.  Just makes Jason’s job all the easier.

He stalks down the corridor silently – Titus gives him a look but doesn’t bark, the dog is far too trusting – and, when he gets close enough, attacks.

An arm around Damian’s chest, trapping his arms, and another clamped over his mouth before Damian can even think to struggle.

Damian stills, and then twists a wrist, and there’s a knife poking somewhere Jason does not want it to poke.

Eased out of hyperawareness, but you don’t forget your instincts, not if you’ve been raised by the League of Assassins.

“If I’d been trying to kill you,” Jason whispers, “You’d already be dead.”

The knife pokes harder as Damian spits enraged, incomprehensible sounds against his hand.

“Just proving a point, demon brat.”

He lets Damian go and moves for the knife in the same instant that Damian turns on his heel – it’s easy work to disarm the kid, twirling the knife as he grins down at a furious child.

“You’ve forgotten who you are,” Jason hums idly, tapping the flat of the blade to Damian’s head and leaving before the demon brat can come up with a suitable threat in his speechless rage.

~#~

He sees the new Batgirl – he thinks she’s Batgirl right now, anyway, Babs seems to enjoy playing musical chairs with that thing – sprawled out on the couch like it’s her own home, like she isn’t mooching off a billionaire that she regularly insults.

It’s things like this that make Stephanie Brown his favorite vigilante.  She has the same awe for Batman as she does for a roadside weed, she somehow managed to win reluctant approval from Damian, she drags the Replacement out of his hidey-holes, and she’s Cass’s favorite.

Considering that Cass is Bruce’s favorite, it’s another blow to the old man.

She registers him leaning against the doorframe, and tenses.

It isn’t a big thing, she’s still staring at the TV screen, but it’s obvious she’s tracking him as he gets closer.

So Jason makes no attempt to hide it.  Just gets close enough, and lunges.

Steph immediately scrambles out of the way, and Jason has to boost himself over the couch to catch her – he catches her shoulder and takes her down, using every drop of his weight advantage to pin her to the ground, arms above her head.

“Jason?” she asks warily, tracking his eyes as she tests his grip.

“Stephanie,” he mocks in her hesitant tone.

Steph’s eyes narrow.  “Get off me, you asshole,” she snaps, twisting her hips – forcing him to either let go or use a lot more force to keep her down.

Jason chooses to let go, straightening back up and staring down at the wary teenager.  He grins, and offers her a hand up.

Steph takes it, still suspicious – but her suspicion doesn’t save her from being dumped head-first onto the couch.

“Jason!” comes the muffled cry as he saunters out of the room, “You bastard!”

~#~

The Replacement, surprisingly, is the easiest to ambush.

Jason maybe expected slightly more self-preservation from the kid – Jason’s legitimately tried to kill him two times, after all – but Tim clearly falls into the same trap as Damian.

The Manor’s home, thus it must be safe.  No matter how many formerly-undead previously-psychotic killers have keys.

All Jason has to do is wait for the kid to step out of the study, his gaze fixed on his tablet as he mutters something under his breath, before reaching out and snatching him.

The Replacement is short and light, two things that make it easy for Jason to carry him, especially when the kid goes startlingly limp at the sight of Jason’s face.

He doesn’t even protest when Jason snags the tablet from his hands and sets it down on one of the side tables.

The pliant meekness is almost worrisome, if it wasn’t what Jason wanted in the first place.  He carries Tim all the way to his room, rolls his eyes at the absolute mess, tucks the wilting – and sleep deprived, Jason was counting – teenager into bed, and pretends he doesn’t see the wide eyes as he turns to leave.

He pauses on the threshold.  “If you leave the bed, I will hunt you down,” he promises, and makes no attempt to hide the threat in his voice.

Tim ducks underneath the covers.

~#~

Cassandra Wayne is, no doubt, the most formidable of his opponents.  He cannot sneak up on her.  He cannot even try.

Well, no, he can certainly try, which is how he ends up wearing the contents of a water bottle as Cass blinks down at him from on top of a bookshelf.

Jason sighs, eyes the bookshelf, and pretty quickly decides that it won’t be able to hold his weight.

“I’ll get you one day,” he warns before leaving.

~#~

“No, Jay, Jay,” Dick clutched Jason’s shoulders, failing horribly at hiding his grin as Jason rounded the edge of the deck, “I swear, Little Wing, don’t you dare –”

“I think you need to cool off,” Jason laughed, and tried to pry Dick off.

“Not getting rid of me that easily, Jaybird,” Dick said, holding on tighter.

Jason considered him for a moment, before his face split into a wide, devious smile.  Dick had just enough time to think uh oh before Jason sprinted the last few steps and jumped into the pool.  Dick yelped, but there was no time to disentangle himself before they hit the water.

“Told you I’d get revenge,” Jason grinned.

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

Back To You

John Egan X Reader

WC: 3K

Summary: John always finds his way back to you

The sun hung low over Thorpe Abbotts, casting long shadows across the airfield. The hum of aircraft engines filled the air, blending with distant laughter and the sharp calls of soldiers. For John Egan, however, the atmosphere felt dense with memories—of love, heartache, and the chasm that war had carved between him and Y/N. Once, their engagement had been a sanctuary, a promise of a future stitched together with shared dreams. But in a moment of raw vulnerability, suffocated by fear and uncertainty, he had made a choice that would haunt him.

“Y/N, I can’t do this,” he had said, his voice quaking as he faced her, the evening light dimming around them. “I can’t let you wait for something that might never come.”

Y/N’s eyes had shimmered with unshed tears, her expression a painful mix of confusion and sorrow. “You think I’ll just grow tired of waiting? You think I’ll forget you?”

“It’s not that,” he had insisted, desperation clawing at his throat. “It’s just… I don’t want either of us to suffer if something happens to me.”

He could still hear the tremor in her voice as she replied, “You think I’m weak? That I can’t handle it?” Each word was a dagger, piercing through the facade he’d built around himself.

“Y/N, please,” he had begged, his heart racing. “I’m trying to be realistic. We don’t know how long this war will last. I can’t ask you to put your life on hold for me.”

The air between them had crackled with tension, filled with unspoken love and the ache of impending loss. Finally, she had stepped back, the distance between them a stark reminder of what he was giving up. “I won’t just be some memory you tuck away. I want to be there for you. And what do you want us to do when you eventually get back? Move on without each other?”

But John had shaken his head, each refusal feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. “You’ll only be waiting in vain. I can’t live with that.”

And so he had turned away, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if the earth itself was trying to pull him back to her. He could almost hear the echoes of their laughter, the way their hands fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle that were meant to be. But now, the specter of war loomed large, casting shadows over everything they had once dreamed of—a home, children, a life built on love.

As he first landed in Thrope Abbotts the weeks dragged into months, John found himself ensnared in the rigors of military life. He navigated training exercises, early morning drills, and the relentless buzz of adrenaline that came with preparing for flight. Yet, beneath the surface, turmoil churned within him. The weight of his decision sat heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the love he had pushed away. Each day, he fought not only the enemy but also the haunting memories of Y/N—her laughter, her warmth, the way her eyes sparkled with hope.

He saw his fellow soldiers embrace their families in letters, the words spilling with love and longing. It only deepened his own sense of isolation, each written sentiment a painful contrast to his own solitude. He had tried to bury the ache, focusing instead on the camaraderie around him. Yet, at night, when silence blanketed the barracks, her absence pressed down on him, an insistent weight that refused to be ignored.

Then, one fateful afternoon, as he walked through the base, a familiar voice echoed through the medical hall.

“Are you all right?” one of the nurses asked, her tone light yet concerned.

John turned instinctively, and time froze. There she was—Y/N. Clad in crisp white, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, she moved with purpose and confidence that took his breath away. His heart raced, the familiar warmth of affection flooding back, but panic gripped him, freezing him in place. He ducked behind a supply cart, praying she wouldn’t see him. The air around him crackled with unspoken words and unshed emotions, and all he could think was how desperately he wanted to run to her, to hold her tightly and never let go.

What would he say? How could he face her after all this time? Every moment they had shared replayed in his mind—each laugh, each touch, the way she had made him feel alive. But now, standing there in uniform, he felt like a shadow of himself, haunted by regret and fear.

Later that evening, the bar buzzed with life, soldiers unwinding after a long week. Laughter mingled with the sounds of glasses clinking and music playing softly in the background. Yet John found it hard to immerse himself in the revelry. His thoughts were elsewhere, orbiting around Y/N.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and she walked in. The room seemed to brighten as she entered, her laughter spilling into the space, warm and infectious. She was there with Robert Rosenthal—Rosie—a friend she had made there, and they moved with a carefree ease that John had always admired. They danced, their laughter intertwining with the music, and John’s heart sank further. Seeing her so happy, so alive, only deepened the regret gnawing at him.

John felt a strange mix of emotions—longing, jealousy, admiration. Every time their eyes met across the crowded room, it sent a jolt through him. But every time she smiled at Rosie, a shadow of despair crept in, reminding him of the choice he had made. He wanted nothing more than to walk over, to bridge the distance that had grown between them, but the fear of rejection held him back.

As the night wore on, he noticed more interactions between Y/N and Rosie—laughter, shared glances, the kind of camaraderie that hinted at something deeper. It twisted his gut with an ache he couldn’t shake. The music faded into the background as his thoughts spiraled. What had he done? What had he lost?

Finally, their eyes locked again, and this time it felt electric, charged with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. A mix of shock and recognition flickered between them. Time stood still, and for a brief moment, it was as if the world outside had faded away. But just as quickly, her smile faltered, sadness creeping in, and she turned her gaze away.

The evening dragged on, and Y/N slipped out of the bar, leaving John feeling hollow, the laughter around him muted. He called out her name, the sound desperate in the stillness of the night. “Y/N!”

She paused, slowly turning to face him, her expression a blend of surprise and reluctance.

“How—why are you here?” he managed to ask, his heart pounding.

A shadow crossed her face, and he could see the hurt lingering in her eyes. “After you left, I had nothing to do,” she said, her voice steady yet tinged with pain. “I was supposed to wait for you, for us to build a life together. But when that future vanished…” Her voice trailed off, revealing the weight of her heartache.

John felt a deep ache in his chest. “So you decided to become a nurse?”

“I applied to the medical program,” she replied, her tone firm. “I wanted to be useful, to help in some way. But more than that, I needed to move forward. I can’t just sit and wait for something that might never come.”

A sense of regret washed over him. “I never wanted to hurt you, Y/N. I thought I was protecting you.”

“By pushing me away?” she countered, her voice trembling slightly. “You thought I would just forget you? I wanted to fight for us, John.”

“I was scared,” he admitted, the weight of his confession hanging heavy between them. “I still am.”

A silence enveloped them, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. He searched her face for a sign that she understood, that she could forgive him. “I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you were gone.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her posture radiating a mix of strength and vulnerability. “John, I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt. It felt like you chose the war over me, like I was a burden you couldn’t carry.”

“No, that’s not how it was,” he said, stepping closer, his heart racing. “I was trying to protect you, but I see now that it was selfish. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was only pushing you away.”

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering. “I’ve started a new life, John. I’m not waiting anymore.”

His heart cracked anew at her words. “But what if we could still find a way? I don’t want to lose you again.”

Y/N looked torn, a mixture of hope and doubt crossing her features. “You’re in the war, John. You’re fighting for your life and for others. I can’t be a distraction to that.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. “I want you in my life, Y/N. I want to fight for us. I just need to know… is there still a chance?”

Her eyes softened, yet determination shone through. “John, I don’t want to get my hopes up only to have them dashed again. It’s not fair to either of us.”

Fair?” John echoed, his heart aching with the weight of her words. “What’s fair in this mess we call life? We’ve lost so much already. Can’t we at least try?”

Y/N shook her head, frustration mingling with sadness. “You’re asking me to risk my heart again, and I don’t know if I can bear it. What if you go back to the front, and this—us—becomes just another casualty of war?”

The night air felt charged with unspoken tension, a battle of emotions unfolding between them. John took a step closer, desperate for some semblance of connection. “But what if we don’t try? I’d rather have the chance to love you and lose it than to walk away without knowing what could have been.”

Her gaze flickered, caught in the crossfire of hope and fear. “I’ve rebuilt myself, John. I can’t afford to fall apart again.”

“Rebuilding isn’t forgetting,” he urged, his voice low and earnest. “You’ve always been a part of me. You always will be. Even in this chaos, I still want you by my side.”

Y/N looked away, biting her lip as if wrestling with the turmoil inside her. “You don’t understand. Every moment I spent waiting for you felt like drowning. I can’t go back to that place.”

“Then let’s move forward together,” he said, urgency spilling from him. “Let’s fight for what we have. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, but I can promise I’ll fight for you with everything I have.”

Her expression softened slightly, the walls she had built around her heart wavering. “And what if you get taken from me again? What if this time you don’t come back?”

“Then I’ll fight like hell to make sure I do,” he vowed, his eyes locking onto hers with a fierce determination. “I’m fighting for a future, Y/N. For us. And I won’t let fear take that away from me again.”

The silence hung heavy, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Slowly, a small flicker of hope ignited in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by uncertainty. “I need to think, John.”

“Please don’t shut me out,” he pleaded, desperation flooding his voice. “Just give me a chance to show you that I’m not the same man I was before. I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

Y/N hesitated, the struggle evident on her face. “And if I say yes? What does that mean for us?”

“It means we’ll navigate this together,” he replied, his voice steady, filled with conviction. “It means we’ll create our own path, no matter how uncertain it might be.”

For a long moment, she searched his eyes, weighing the possibilities. Finally, she exhaled softly, a hint of resolve breaking through the clouds of doubt. “Goodnight John. I’ll see you around”

As he stood there, watching her walk away the weight of the world still heavy upon them, John felt a flicker of hope ignite within his chest. Maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other amidst the chaos of war.

But deep down, he knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. He would have to confront not just the enemy outside but the shadows of his own fears. And as he looked at Y/N.

The next morning the sky was clear over the base, but John heard the familiar roar of engines echoed across the airfield as he prepared for his next mission yet, all he could think about was Y/N and their conversation from last night, her voice rising in frustrations and his pleads. He had left her again that night with un-known answers to them.

As the B-17 took to the skies, the weight of unresolved words hung heavy on John’s heart. He knew the risks of his job, but the thrill of flying often overshadowed his better judgment. It wasn’t until their mission went awry—caught in a storm and then attacked—that he realized how easily everything could change.

The plane was hit, and despite their best efforts, it went down behind enemy lines. He had found himself captured, his fate sealed in a grim POW camp where hope flickered like a dying candle. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the weight of isolation pressing down on him.

In the dim light of their cell, John found solace in writing. He pulled a scrap of paper from his tattered uniform and began his first letter to Y/N.

“Dear Y/N,” he wrote, his handwriting shaky, “I’m thinking of you every moment, I’m stuck in this place. I wish I could tell you better how sorry I am for everything, we both know I’ve never been good with words. You deserve to know that I love you more than words can say. There hasn’t been a day in the last 8 years since Buck introduced you to me that I haven’t thought of you. Even when I called it quits. I still pretended you were at home waiting for me to keep myself going. You don’t have to forgive me but I just needed you to know that if I dont make it out here it was a life well spent with you. Please stay strong for me.”

He folded the letter carefully, hiding it in his jacket pocket, hoping somehow it would make its way to her. Each day, he wrote more, documenting their struggles and clinging to the memories of their time together. The letters were his lifeline, an escape from the cold, hard reality of the camp.

Meanwhile, back in Norfolk, Y/N was consumed by a mix of anger and worry. She had heard whispers of John’s capture but had received no confirmation. Her heart ached with longing as she waited for news. Till his first letter arrived in the mail informing her about his whereabouts and thoughts. Seeing this she quickly poured her feelings into letters to send back, writing to the stars, hoping they would reach him.

“Dear John,” she wrote one evening, the candlelight flickering in her small room, “I’m so angry for you constantly for what you did, but how can i be mad when I well know you were it for me and I was stubborn enough to say no when you wanted us back. But I’m more scared than anything right now because I need you John. I miss you every day and hope for your safety. Please come back to me.”

The months dragged on, with each passing day deepening the chasm of uncertainty. John’s letters became a source of strength for him. They shared stories, laughter, and dreams of freedom, the bond between them growing stronger amidst the harsh realities of their captivity.

“Remember that picnic we had by the river?” John wrote one day, reminiscing. “You made that terrible potato salad, but I loved it anyway. I can’t wait to sit by that river again with you.”

As winter settled in, the cold seeped into their bones, and hope began to wane. But every time John thought of Y/N, he felt a spark reignite. The thought of her kept him going.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, an unexpected rescue operation led to their liberation. The sound of gunfire and chaos filled the air as Allied forces stormed the camp. John’s only thoughts as he started climbing to place the American flag were of Y/N and that he was coming home to her.

When John stepped off the transport plane back at Thorpe Abbotts, his heart raced. He was alive, but a part of him felt hollow without Y/N by his side. Word had spread of his return, and as he stepped onto the airfield, he searched the crowd.

Suddenly, he saw her—Y/N stood at the edge of the tarmac, her face a mix of disbelief and joy. Time seemed to freeze as they locked eyes. Without a second thought, she broke into a run, and he met her halfway, enveloping her in his arms.

“John!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m here,” he murmured into her hair, holding her tightly as if she were the only thing anchoring him to reality. “I’m so sorry for everything honey. I never wanted to leave things the way we did.”

Y/N pulled back, looking deep into his eyes. “You scared me, John. I was so angry, but I was terrified.”

“I know,” he replied, brushing her tears away with his thumb. “I didn’t realize how much you meant to me until I was lost. You’re my home, Y/N.”

They kissed, their lips meeting with a fervor that spoke of all the unspoken words, the longing that had built up over the months apart. The kiss deepened, filled with all the love and regret they had bottled up.

As they pulled away, breathless, Buck, standing nearby, grinned and clapped John on the back. “Looks like you two have some catching up to do!”

John chuckled, pulling Y/N back into his embrace. “Let’s go home,” he said softly.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the airfield, the sun setting on the horizon, casting a golden glow over them. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them, ready to face whatever came next together.

That evening, as they sat under the stars, they shared stories and dreams, the weight of the past lifting with every word.

“I still can’t believe you’re really here,” Y/N whispered, leaning against him.

“I’ll always come back to you,” John promised, kissing her forehead. “I’ll never take that for granted again.”

Their hearts were full, the air thick with unspoken words. In that moment, they knew they were finally home—together.