#let me just posit yet again that their fight in the naked time is all just a pretense for a romantic relationship

[favvn]

The more I think about it, the more the turbolift scene from And The Children Shall Lead is both the opposite of and bookend to the conference room fight from The Naked Time.

The obvious differences of environment and how the scenes are staged are at the forefront, of course. In The Naked Time, Kirk finds Spock alone in the conference room after he has had an emotional breakdown from the virus. In And The Children Shall Lead, Spock physically has to pull Kirk off the Bridge and into the turbolift, something that mirrors his earlier words to Kirk about the need for a captain to be unshakeable in the eyes of the crew in order to maintain command. (And if anyone in the series understands the need for privacy and control over one's countenance, it's Spock.)

Both characters are incapacitated by their emotions, Spock by the sadness and regret that the virus has brought forward and Kirk by sheer fear and anxiety made all too real by a crew that is distracted by their own fears and made unable to hear him due to illusions. Both are stuck reckoning with the very things they fear. Spock still feels such strong emotions and love in spite of his adherence to Vulcan custom. His attempts to control his emotions and reign in his human half have come to nothing. He can still be unraveled into a sobbing mess. Kirk fears that he is truly alone, unheard and ignored by his own crew, and unable to keep the Enterprise and maintain control as a result. The realization of this fear reverts him to childlike behavior, from his slouched posture and the way he folds himself inwards as if to make himself smaller, to the higher pitch of his voice. Any certainty and authority is gone from Kirk.

There is another element to Kirk's fears in both episodes in that his captaincy exists only in relation to others. Without the Enterprise and her crew, what exactly is Kirk? He holds no position or importance if one of those elements is missing. Yes, his speech about love and how it's off-limits to him speaks to the demands of the captaincy versus his need for connection and love with another person, but there is that other element of reciprocity behind it. And The Children Shall Lead shows it in a very harsh light in how each person on the Bridge either cannot hear him or ignores him.

In order to get through to Spock in The Naked Time, Kirk resorts to slapping him, with the intent that the pain ought to cause him to snap out of it (this scene is perhaps hilarious in hindsight when A Private Little War later shows that Spock must be slapped in order to leave a Vulcan healing trance. Thanks for that detail, Roddenberry ♡). It doesn't fully work until Spock hits Kirk back and knocks him over the table. The scene ends with them separated by the table between them but with Spock back to his usual self and Kirk now infected with the virus.

In And The Children Shall Lead, Spock calmly stands his ground in the turbolift and calls Kirk by three different names. Spock first says, "Captain," in his attempt to get Kirk's attention. It is Kirk's title, the rank that Kirk holds on the ship, the name of his job, the very signpost of his command. Spock calls Kirk exactly what he needs to hear, yet it doesn't break through the anxiety unleashed by the children. Spock tries again, softly saying, "Kirk" next. By this point, Kirk has lunged at Spock with his hands at Spock's throat, believing that Spock is attempting to take the Enterprise from him as other past episodes have shown (The Deadly Years especially, but episodes like The Ultimate Computer, Mirror Mirror, and The Menagerie show it to an extent). Kirk still does not hear Spock past his fears, which leads Spock to call him "Jim." This, the use of Kirk's preferred nickname, the name that only his friends have used, is what finally gets Kirk to snap out of it. The scene ends with them physically together and still in a partial embrace but both acting like their usual selves and uninhibited by a virus or induced fears. In this sense, And The Children Shall Lead's turbolift scene, the one that so many people regard as a "now kiss!" moment, is a culmination of the fight scene of The Naked Time if one recalls the repetition to "risk implosion" to do what has "never been done" and come together towards a united point.

[zriasstuff]

Mercy-Draco Malfoy x reader smut

Warnings: 18+ mature oneshot (1.7k words), barely any plot; just porn, sub!draco

To the person that requested a Draco Malfoy fanfic like 10 days ago: here it finally is

Draco inhales sharply through his teeth as you go over his bleeding wound with a cotton ball. You had told him a thousand times already to not get into a fight again, yet he just wouldn’t listen and did so nonetheless.

“C'mon they deserved it, you understand right?”, he tried to justify his actions, to which you shook your head in disapproval.

“You can’t just go around acting like a dick and then expect people to clean up after you all the time”, you lecture him, hoping he’ll see his wrongdoings.

“Well for now I got you, don’t I?”, he smugly retorts, hissing along the way as the cotton ball touches his wound again. What a prick he could be sometimes.

“For now”, you warn him sternly. Draco was well aware he’d have to play nice with you, his close friend who genuinely helped him when he needed it.

You, of course, didn't want to enable Draco, but he did show his gratitude in pleasant ways. Ways such as treating you to stuff in Hogsmeade, helping you with homework, sweet talking you to professors, and so on.

Today's wound landed on his lower torso, something he’d gotten from a guy on the Gryffindor quidditch team, whom he insulted as mudblood. Being a pure blood yourself, you were aware of your guys' hate towards muggles, but you didn’t condone it.

Seeing his pained facial expression, pulling all types of grimaces, you say “I know it hurts, but that will only help you to learn your lesson.”

“And what lesson is that? That I have to show less mercy next time?”, Draco stupidly grins when failing to acknowledge his fault.

“Sure, tough guy”, you roll your eyes at him.

Now, he was almost all fixed up and you just had to put a large, squared band aid over his cleaned wound.

As you lean in towards his lower torso, you hear a huffed grunt coming from Draco, who is looking a bit thrown.

“What is it, did I hurt you?”, you ask him.

Draco wasn’t hurt. More so, he was rather feeling something completely opposite.

Innerly, he started replaying the moment in his head of when your tits made the lightest contact with his dick. They had brushed over his groin, when you were leaning in to put the band aid on the wound.

Of course you hadn’t noticed, but he certainly couldn’t forget. His mind was going through all sorts of dirty, nasty, mental images. That one little touch caused all restraint to fly out the window, and all he could think of was how you would look naked, tits uncovered, bouncing in front of him.

How would fuck your tits and afterwards paint them with his cum. The position you were in also allowed you to give him a perfect blowjob. Draco was sitting on a chair and you knelt in front of him because it was the easiest way for you to treat him.

Surely, you wouldn’t have imagined that this position would cause his poor mind to fantasize to such naughty extent.

It became all too much in his head, such a reaction from so little touch. Was he really that horny and desperate? Draco tried to block it out, to not make this weird.

But seeing you like this, having felt you in such a way, simply made you too irresistible.

Draco didn’t even know what got into him, but he bent down promptly, grabbed your ponytail and told you exactly what he wanted- no craved right now.

“Please suck me off right now”, he suddenly muttered in your ear, giving you the most troubled look you’ve ever seen.

“What the fu- what the hell is wrong with you?!”, you exclaim at his words. You couldn’t fully believe what you just heard.

Draco pulls back again, letting go of your ponytail in the process. He seemed slightly ashamed, but you could tell he wouldn’t let go of this easily. Hell, if he played his cards right…

He himself couldn’t even fully grasp why he wanted this so badly all of a sudden. His mind was definitely fucking with him. But with all the stress he was under- being involved with the Death Eaters, and having no way of venting- all he needed was you right now.

“Please, just do it?”, he appeared defeated. You’d never seen him so frantic before.

“Look, I really need this, I need you. You’ll help me with anything, right?”

Needing to come up with a response, you go over all the possibilities in your head. You arrive at a well thought out conclusion seconds later.

“You’ll explain yourself later”, you firstly demand from him. You saw that Draco was completely out of his element, but that’s not why you agreed. Doing this for him would have him at your mercy, maybe you would enjoy holding this over his head later on. Win win, right?

“Ready?”, you coo at him before your hand makes contact with the growing bulge in his pants. Draco winces a little, letting out a relieved moan.

From all the pent up frustration, he desperately needed this. While you stroke around his bulge, he already starts jerking his growing length against your palm. That’s when you give his cock a warning squeeze.

“This isn’t up to you”, you talk down to him. Innerly you loved every second of this. Draco going from harsh and brassy to obedient.

Abruptly, he stops moving, so you carry on with palming his cock until it’s visibly hard through his pants. Here and there a little wince escapes his mouth, wanting immediate pleasure instead of tedious teasing.

After enough playing around, you start to unzip his pants with your mouth. You make sure to glance at him while doing it, just to see how crazy it drives him. His stunned reaction was so worth it.

Every second he relished and wished you would just take him in already. When you remove the last layer of clothing, you’re shocked to see how much bigger he is than you’d ever encountered. From your eyes widening and your mouth gaping slightly, he could tell his size turned you on.

His cock was incredibly hard and leaking drops of precum already from all the teasing, practically aching to be sucked and toyed with.

Your tongue licks a long stripe along his shaft first, which evokes a small whimper from Draco. Instantly he shuts himself up, wanting to control himself, but you want to hear more of those delicious sounds.

So, you keep peppering his cock with kitten licks, especially at his leaking tip. No longer able to hold himself back, Draco fully lets himself go and lets out a breathy whimper.

“Please stop with the teasing already”, he whines after having already endured that much.

Luckily you are feeling generous, so you slide him into your mouth, his big cock disappearing inch by inch. When it glided fully in, it hit the back of your throat, making you gag.

Draco had to forcefully keep his hands on his thighs, otherwise he’d destroy your throat right now. His cock felt so good in your warm, wet mouth. He was amused, seeing you gag from his length.

Not wanting to back out, you ignore your gag reflex. You keep your tongue flat, and start bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Instantly, you feel the saliva running down from the corners of your mouth.

It was messy and sloppy, and the whimpers coming from Draco were heavenly. While trying your hardest to not gag, you continued sucking and twirling your tongue around him like a lollipop. Of course you made sure that his balls didn’t feel left out either. With one free hand you gently massaged them, rolling them in your hand.

Soon enough the stimulation had gotten to Draco. The way you glanced up at him, doe eyed, salivating on cock, awakened some strange feelings in him.

A few more seconds of pure ecstasy, and he started violently bucking his hips, signaling his oncoming orgasm.

More uncontrollable whimpers and curses left his mouth. Finally, you tipped him over the edge when you let his cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly.

His ropes of cum quickly dripped down your throat- shame that you could barely taste it as he was in so deep.

“That was fucking amazing”, he sighs at you, completely out of breath.

With his cock still hanging out, even though it’s soft, you have a fun idea. You spit in your mouth, and as Draco watches, he has no idea what you’re up to.

His eyes widen, when he sees your hand move towards his cock again.

He curses loudly, when you start to pump his shaft. It was absolutely too much for him, especially after he just came.

“Tell me, did you come?”, you ask Draco in a teasing tone. He didn’t answer as he was too focused on the mix of pleasure and pain that was being inflicted on his poor, overused cock.

Completely ignoring the question, you ask it again, yet when there was no answer this time you start pumping him even faster than before. “FUCK”, Draco yelps out, as he clings onto his chair with both hands.

“Earlier when you came in my mouth, did you ask for permission?”. Of course he didn’t, that’s why you asked.

“No”, he whines, looking dazzled. “Stop fucking with me”, he groans, but secretly he enjoyed being messed around with. Maybe that’s what he needed, someone assertive, yet caring.

The agonizing pain was becoming too overpowering second by second.

“Ok, please let me off, I’ll be good next time”, he continues whining in his needy tone.

“Who said there’ll be a next time”, you coo, “and don’t lie, you’re enjoying this”. You continue torturing his cock until he finally can’t take it anymore, twitching uncontrollably in your hand.

As you keep roughly squeezing and pumping his cock, Draco painfully comes a second time. He throws his head back before looking at you again, meanwhile you seductively licked his cum on your hand. In the end, Draco managed to huff out a hoarse “thank you”.

After this blissful experience, Draco would be making sure, that there would in fact be a next time.

[junkissed]

healing hands

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut, fluff, f2l, comfort sex word count — 2.3k synopsis — wen junhui: your best friend? check. roommate? check. now you can add "personal masseuse" to that list, too. warnings — description of female anatomy, mentioned that reader gets periods (but isn't on it in this fic), super soft dom!jun, fingering, breastplay, hand kink if you squint notes — requested by @jaemlonfz — this has been driving me insane every time i open my inbox so i hope now it drives you insane too :D if you liked this please be sure to reblog or send me an ask, feedback is super appreciated and helps me write more fics like this!

movie nights with jun are your favorite nights.

that is, they usually are.

usually you get to curl up in bed with your best friend for a sleepover, and despite the fact that you’re already roommates and you see him every night anyway, it still feels extra special. the snacks, the dimmed lights, watching movies into the late hours of the night until you fall asleep.

except tonight.

you groan and roll over onto your side with a humph, and jun shifts his arm around you with a frown. "something wrong?"

"think i'm about to start my period soon. my boobs have been so sore all day.” you whine, and he frowns again at your discomfort.

“would it help if you, like, massaged them?”

you glance up at him suspiciously. “what, are you offering or something?”

he shrugs, far too nonchalantly for someone who just offered to play with your boobs. he did just offer that, right? “i mean, if you want me to. or i could go get the heating pad instead.”

“i… alright, fine.” you push yourself back up into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard of your bed.

jun grabs the remote and mutes the tv as you tug your shirt off over your head, awkwardly trying not to make eye contact with him when you notice him staring.

you start to reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, but his hands quickly find yours and help you with it. the loose straps slide down your shoulders, and you catch yourself holding your breath as he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor, leaving you topless in front of him. 

your nipples are already hard, and you force yourself not to cover them instinctively. it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked, but it is the first time he’ll be touching you while you are, and it makes you shy.

he pulls his hands away and folds them in his lap, waiting until you nod before he gently cups your breasts in his palms. 

you have to fight the urge to shiver as he starts to massage your boobs, his fingers moving across your chest with tender yet deliberate motions. you let out a soft sigh and relax your shoulders, melting into the pillows. maybe it’s your hormones making you not think clearly, but he actually is giving relief to the ache in your muscles. the fact that your best friend is devastatingly gorgeous isn’t helping your case.

his slender fingers press into your sides, long nails scratching gently against your skin as he works. you’re sure he must be able to feel your racing heartbeat beneath his palm, but you ignore it and try to focus on the tingly feeling in your stomach instead.

he bends his knuckles, dragging the pads of his fingertips carefully across your chest and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

he brushes his thumb against your nipple and it makes you shiver involuntarily, and he has to resist the urge to press his whole face into your chest. at this point he can’t tell which one of you is enjoying this more, because to him this is a dream come true. getting to touch you, hold you, make you feel good.

he has to focus every ounce of his energy into not getting hard, because it's totally normal to give your best friend a very platonic boob massage, right? 

at least, that's what he tells himself until his hand squeezes you a little too hard and you let out the whiniest, most guttural moan he's ever heard in his life and instantly his crotch is stiff as a board.

your eyes widen in shock at the noise that escapes you, but for some strange reason you don’t feel embarrassed by it at all. if anything, you just want him to keep going.

he starts to pull away but you quickly put your hands on top of his, holding him in place against your chest. "don't stop. please? feels so good…"

"do— do you want…?" he stammers, and you cut him off with another soft moan.

you let go of his hands and after a moment he continues, letting him move wherever he wants across your body. you watch his eyes dart back and forth as if can't seem to decide what he wants to do first.

his palms glide over your stomach, creeping lower until his fingertips come to a stop at the waistband of your pajama pants.

"can i?" he asks in a choked whisper, looking up at you with a glazed look in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. you whimper out his name in response, lifting your hips to encourage him.

slowly his hand disappears into your pants, and you gasp as you feel his fingers glide over the warm skin of your stomach beneath your panties. he keeps his eyes on you the entire time, studying your reaction as he continues moving down.

he nearly falls off the bed in surprise when he finally finds your entrance, and your hand flies out to grip his wrist between your legs. "oh my god, you're so fucking wet—" he chokes out, adding pressure to his fingertips to draw another moan out of you.

he runs his fingers through your folds before tentatively pushing the tip of his index finger into you, watching as you lean back against the pillows and arch off the bed. "jun—" you gasp, squeezing his wrist tighter.

"stop?" he asks nervously at your reaction, and you nearly give yourself whiplash from how fast you shake your head no.

"don't stop touching me, please," you moan, lifting your hips up to grind against his hand. “fuck—please, jun.”

he positions himself beside you to get a better angle before cupping your pussy with his hand, letting out a groan as he feels your throbbing heat. you keep your hand on his wrist and he lets you guide him where you want him, pressing his finger deeper into you. you can't help the way your walls clench around him, whimpering as he slowly pulls his finger out before pushing it back in.

your grip on his hand loosens and he manages to work another finger into you, your cunt squeezing his knuckles and pulling him in.

“fuck, you're so tight… baby, spread your legs a little for me— there you go.” he coos when you cooperate, wordlessly following his instructions without even a second of hesitation. you try not to linger on the name he calls you but your body betrays you, clenching so hard around his fingers that he gives you a curious look and you have to pretend to be oblivious.

“you like that… baby?” he asks with a toothy grin, and you whine shyly, giving him all the information he needs. he curls his fingers upwards inside you and your legs try to clamp shut around him, but he just pulls them apart again and continues the motion of his fingers.

“just relax, baby. i'll take care of you,” he says softly, leaning over your body and bringing his free hand back up to knead your breast. within minutes he's reduced you to a whimpering, begging mess, and you’ve forgotten all about your soreness with his gentle hands caressing every inch of you. 

your breath catches in your throat and you can’t break your eyes away from the sight of his arm down the front of your pants, disappearing from view at the wrist. thick veins scattered across his forearm bulge with exertion, and you have the overwhelming urge to run your fingers over his arms and trace each and every vein.

he hums out your name, drawing your attention back up to his face. “can i kiss you?”

you can barely manage a nod, pulling him down to meet your lips in a searing kiss. his kisses grow deeper simultaneously as his fingers grow rougher, capturing your moans with his lips until it makes you dizzy.

his cock is aching, and if it were any other time he probably would’ve made some excuse and slinked off to his room to jerk off to the thought of you. but he’s so fixated on your body, lips pressed against yours and long fingers buried in your dripping cunt, his own pleasure is the last thing on his mind. he doesn’t care if he never gets off ever again, not when he has you laid out right here in front of him, making sounds better than he could have ever imagined.

he breaks away from you and you whimper at the loss, chest heaving with shallow breaths as he moves down your body to rest his chin against your stomach.

“would this make them feel better?” he asks as he looks up at you, tilting his head to press his lips against the side of your boob in a gentle kiss.

“already feels so good—” your hands fall down to hold his head, threading your fingers in his head in a futile effort to help. “jun, please, you feel so good.”

he smiles again and carefully wraps his lips around your breast, never breaking eye contact with you as he stares up at you laying on your stomach. his weight feels good on top of you, and his mouth feels even better. he flattens his tongue and runs it over your nipple, groaning against your chest.

finally his mouth leaves your breast, replacing it with his other hand as he adjusts his fingers, positioning his thumb against your clit and beginning to rub small circles. your hips buck upwards from the stimulation, but he pins you down to the bed with his elbow, his other hand still occupied with your breast.

“sit still, sweetheart,” he says with a short laugh, though his voice comes out significantly more breathier than when he last spoke a few minutes ago. “you’re gripping my fingers so tight. just relax for me.”

but his words only make you clench around him harder, a choked whimper leaving your lips. “close, jun— ‘m so close, please…”

he curls his fingers deeper inside you, his thumb pressing more roughly against your clit as he builds you up closer to your release. he can tell you’re right at the edge, can feel your wetness gushing around his fingers, and it only spurs him to keep going. “promise i’m gonna make you feel so good, ‘mkay? you can let go whenever you want, baby.”

it doesn’t take long before you’re crumbling in his arms, mouth falling open in a gasp as your eyes wrench shut and your body freezes. your hand tightens around his wrist but he keeps going, the gentle motions of his fingers carrying you through your orgasm and leaving you panting for breath.

every muscle in your body is tensed as he continues to work you until you fall into a second orgasm before the first has even fully ended. your body is covered in sweat as you writhe against his hand, your pajama pants sticking uncomfortably to your legs.

your cunt continues to pulse around jun’s fingers as they grind to a halt, blinking your eyes open as your vision gradually begins to return to you. you let out a shaky sigh and look up at him as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your pants.

“you feel better now?” he says. he starts to scoot away from you, but you whine and try to grab onto him to tug him back closer, and he pauses.

“wait, jun—”

“mm?”

your grip on his wrist is weak, but he lets you pull him back easily anyway. “can you, just… don’t go. please?”

his smile lights up the entire room, so bright that it outshines the light coming from the muted tv. he leans over to kiss your forehead, his lips as gentle as his voice. “of course. what do you need?” 

“you. a long, hot shower. but mostly you.”

he smiles again. “i can help with that. if you want me to.”

“why would you think wouldn’t i want you to?” you prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, catching the way his eyes briefly glance down at your bare breasts but pretends he doesn’t.

he flops down on the bed beside you with a nervous giggle. “just giving you a chance to change your mind. i don’t know if you… nevermind.”

you pause, wondering what he was going to say. the lines of friendship are long gone by now, blurred by activities that feel too intimate to say out loud, but that small part of you is still worried about losing your best friend.

you run your thumb along the length of his arm, feeling the little divot on the inside of his elbow and tracing the grooves from his veins as you think carefully about your next words.

“do you—” you pause, wondering if it’s the right time or even the right thing to say. but with him, it’s a chance worth taking, so why not? you clear your throat before trying again. “will you sleep over? in here, with me?”

he smiles again, and relief washes over you as he leans over to press a tiny, gentle kiss to your lips. “i wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else tonight.”

you grin into his kiss, squeezing his arm lightly. “good. because i owe you a massage now.”

“oh, really?”

you let go of his arm and reach up to rub your thumb along his cheek. “gotta return the favor somehow.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 10

Word Count- 7.2k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, violence, death, Damon’s ass/Damon BEING an ass, shitty Google translate, spelling mistakes(I'm wayyy too tired to edit this rn)

A/N- some of this is not canon just because I love a character too much and she deserved better in the show. 

“Are you just going to keep sulking in here,” I ask from my position in Damon’s doorway.

Damon answers me back with a loud groan mixed with what I believe to be a growl, “Tell me again why you’re here. And why I haven’t killed you yet?”

If I had just met Damon I would be scared of what he just asked me, but after these past weeks of knowing him, I’ve realized most of his threats are half-assed. So I just shrug and walk into his room.

“My mother and brother are away for the week visiting family, leaving me home alone. And, well, I don’t feel like having “he who shall not be named,” come and kill me in my sleep. And you haven’t killed me because you don’t want to. I’ve called you many bad names to your face, and yet I stand here, unharmed."

“Here you stand annoying the hell out of me. Again.”

I roll my eyes and sit on the edge of Damon’s bed. Damon still hasn’t moved from his position under the covers. 

“Damon,” I turn over my shoulder to look at him and he lets out yet another groan to acknowledge he’s listening, “I’m going to be honest with you.”

“Nothing new there,” I hear him say under his breath sarcastically.

“You’re kind of embarrassing to watch right now,” I turn to see him fully glaring at me now, “You’re how old? Like five thousand years or something like that? It’s time you grew up.”

“Says the high schooler.”

“Says the man in love with a high schooler,” I bite back which has him shutting up momentarily.

“You don't know anything,” He says as he finally sits up in his bed. His white sheet falling down, revealing his naked chest. I quickly avert my eyes, not because I’m attracted to him but because seeing Damon half-naked would be like seeing my annoying ass distant cousin naked. No, thank you. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Demon-spawn,” I point an accusing finger at him resulting in him glaring at me some more. 

“I know you have feelings for Elena, everyone and their bloody mothers knows. And as much as I like Stefan, I also don’t think it should be something you need to feel bad for,” I think momentarily and tap my chin in thought, “Well, okay. Maybe a little bad because she’s 17 and you’re like 1,000 and she’s also your little brother’s girlfriend,” I catch Damon’s deadly look and stop rambling, “Moving along…What I’m trying to say is that we can’t control who we catch feelings for. And honestly, Elena’s pretty and nice as hell so I don’t blame you there. But what we can control is how we choose to express those feelings.”

Damon just stares blankly at me and I feel like I’d be better off giving a toddler this speech. 

“What you’re doing right now, sulking and getting mad at everyone around you for something that is out of our control isn’t helping anyone. It’s only making things worse. Elena’s my best friend and I know she’s scared out of her mind right now but doesn’t want to say it because it'll cause more stress for the people she loves. What she needs right now is all of us. After tonight is over and Elijah’s elixir brings her back then you can go back to your hissy fits but right now,” I stand up and face him, planting my hands on my hips in a power pose, “You need to get your ass out of bed and get a fucking grip.”

Damon and I hold each other’s glares for a straight minute before he huffs, throws his blanket off of him, and gets out of bed. I have to fight a smirk as I get overly proud of my pep talk. 

“I’m really starting to miss when it was just puke coming out of that mouth of yours,” Damon growls as he walks to the bathroom and pulls down his boxers without a second thought. My eyes fly out of my head as I get a full look at Damon’s white ass. I quickly turn around and gag.

“Dude! Seriously, warn a girl!”

---

“I don’t remember you being so…talky,” Damon’s voice yells from over the water of his shower.

I frown as I think about his comment and sit back down on the edge of his bed facing the front door and not the bathroom. Not wanting to get a face full of his behind again, or worse…ugh.

“I…don’t think I’ve ever been talky. There has never been a reason for me to be,” I say back to him not really caring if he hears or not.

A moment later I hear the shower water stop and his footsteps padding around behind me. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean,” Damon says from next to me and I slowly turn hoping he’s at least half decent. 

Thankfully, he has covered his behind with jeans and is currently slipping a shirt over his chest.

I think about his question and then shrug my shoulders, “I’ve never really had friends to talk to, and whenever I had tried talking to people they just hadn’t cared. So I never really saw the point in talking.”

Damon stops fixing the buttons on his shirt momentarily to look at me. His eyebrows are drawn together and the look in his eyes isn’t one I think I’ve seen from him before. Something about it almost seems kind of…human. But within another second it’s gone and his lip upturns into a smirk.

“People are a waste of time anyway. The only good thing about them…,” He takes a step closer to me and leans down so he’s in my face, “Is there blood.”

I huff as I stand up and push past him heading towards the door, “And here I thought I could actually have a half-decent conversation with you. My mistake.”

I start walking through the halls toward the living room where Elena, Stefan, and Elijah are. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Damon catch up to me so we’re walking side by side.

“You’re kind of annoying,” He says and I have to fight the urge to not punch him.

“Gee, thanks,” I go to walk faster but he catches up to me again.

“What I mean is…,” He pauses for a moment trying to find his words, “You may be annoying but that doesn’t mean what you have to say is pointless or something that shouldn’t be heard. Screw anyone who tells you otherwise…or just kill them.”

I look at him with a confused look matching the confused feelings I now have, “Thank you? I think.”

“Don’t mention it,” He leans down and glares at me, “Seriously, I will kill you if you tell anyone what I just said.”

I suck on my teeth and then nod my head, “And there’s the Demon we all know and loathe.”

“Right, back at you, Pukey.”

I watch as Damon’s eyebrows furrow as we get closer to the living room and as we enter he speaks up, “Then why are we letting him break the curse?”

I follow Damon into the living room and see Elena and Stefan sitting together on a sofa and Elijah standing before them. Elijah’s eyes lock onto mine and I acknowledge him by sending him a small smile which he just returns with a nod. Okay, Rude.

“We can kill him today. With Bonnie,” Damon says and I realize we’re talking about him. At the mention of him, I begin to clench my fists as a surge of anger rises through me but stop myself since I don’t feel like accidentally cutting myself in a room of vampires. I take my seat on a loveseat next to Elena, who sends me a warm smile before turning towards Damon.

“No. Bonnie can’t use that much power without dying.”

“I’ll write her a great eulogy,” Damon’s words have me turning in my seat and glaring at him. So much for my speech getting to him.

“It’s not an option Damon,” You tell him, Elena. 

Stefan sighs, “Alright, how do we break this curse?”

“Well, the ritual itself is relatively straightforward. The ingredients, so to speak you already know,” Elijah answers.

“The moonstone,” Stefan says.

“A witch will channel the power of the full moon to release the spell that’s bound within the stone. After that Klaus, being both a werewolf and a vampire, will sacrifice one of each.”

“And where do I fit into it,” Elena asks him.

“The final part of the ritual. Klaus must drink the blood of the doppelganger…to the point of your death.”

Elijah’s words have both Stefan and I taking deep breaths.

“And that’s where you come in.”

Elijah goes to the shelf behind him and opens a little wooden box, “This is an elixir that I acquired some 500 years ago for Katerina. It possesses the mystical properties of resuscitation.”

“So I’ll be dead..”

“And then you won’t.”

Damon the grouch speaks up, “That’s your plan? A magical witch potion with no expiration date,” He turns to Elena, “You want to come back to life, what…What about John’s ring?”

“Those rings only work on humans. The doppelganger is a supernatural occurrence. Odds are…the ring won’t work.”

“I’ll take those odds over your elixir. What if it doesn’t work Elena?”

“Then I guess I’ll just be dead.”

Damon shoots his brother a look, but knowing Stefan, he’ll go with whatever Elena wants. Even if he doesn’t agree. Damon realizes this too before shooting another glare at the group before leaving the living room back to where we originally came from.

“Do we know if Klaus has everything he needs to do this? Does he have a werewolf?”

“Klaus has been waiting over a thousand years to break this curse. If he doesn’t already have a werewolf my guess is by tonight, he will.”

—

I watch from my position on the couch as Stefan follows his brother outside. That’s going to be a fun conversation. 

Elena approaches Elijah, “You’d think he’d understand why I’m willing to do this.”

“Why are you?”

“I’m the key to breaking the curse. Klaus is here because of me. If I don’t stop him, then he’s gonna hurt people. It’s that simple.”

I frown sadly to myself and fight back the watering that has started in my eyes. This isn’t fair. None of this is. 

“You know, there’s a possibility this elixir won’t work. I don't want to mislead you.”

“I know the chance I’m taking.”

The tense atmosphere is broken by a door slamming shut and a woman yelling from the foyer. 

“Jenna, Jenna!”

“Get out!”

I quickly rise from my seat and go to follow behind Elena to check on Jenna, but a hand grabs my own, pulling me back. 

“Wait here,” Elijah’s stern voice says to me as he drops my hand and follows behind Elena.  I watch his retreating figure and shake my head. Who tf does this guy think he’s talking to?

I run towards the foyer and freeze when I see Ric standing there. Or Klaus, I guess. My breathing gets faster and I’m debating on whether to swing on him or pass out.

“Jenna, put the cross-bow down, okay? It’s me.”

Stefan joins us and Elijah comes to stand in front of me, not before shooting me a disapproving look.

“What’s going on,” Elena asks the two adults.

“It’s me, Elena, I swear, okay? He let me go. Klaus let me go,” I frown at Ric’s words and look to Elijah to see if he can tell if Ric is telling the truth or not but his face is completely still. 

“Prove it,” Damon who has now joined says.

“Okay, uh, the first night you and I spent together Jeremy walked in right when-”

“Ok! It’s him,” Jenna exclaims as she drops her weapon. Ew. Everyone in the room throws glances at each other before turning back towards Ric. 

“Why did he let you go,” Stefan asks.

“He wanted me to deliver a message. The sacrifice happens tonight.”

—-

“Katherine was there,” Ric says from his position on the couch. We all moved back into the living room to keep discussing our plans for tonight. 

“She’s under compulsion. Damon snuck her vervain but she can't leave until Klaus tells her she can.”

“Where is Damon,” Elena questions, and I get a bit unnerved. Not knowing where Damon is is not an ideal situation. 

“I saw him go upstairs,” Jenna says. 

Elena stands up and goes towards his room and I go to follow her but Elijah grabs my upper arm, “I need to speak with you,” I begin to argue back as he pulls me into the next room.

“Dude let go of me,” I hiss at him and he drops my arm and stares blankly at me.

“Do not dude me, Elskan,” Elijah says with that stupid monotone voice of his that makes me want to wrap my hands around his throat.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do Elijah,” I whisper yell to him so the others don’t overhear us, “And stop with that stupid nickname.”

Elijah narrows his eyes at me, “You are making it incredibly hard for me to protect you.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” I roll my eyes sarcastically, “I didn’t realize you actually cared, since you’ve been acting like you don't.”

Elijah’s narrowed eyes morph into ones of confusion, “What are you talking about?”

“Seriously! One second you’re making all these promises to protect me and being all nice and stuff and then the next moment you won’t even acknowledge my existence.”

“It would be impossible for me to not acknowledge your existence, Y/n. There is not a single moment where I am not searching for you. This situation,” He gestures between us, “Is not something I take lightly. And keeping you safe is now my most important mission in this life. So I apologize if I have hurt your feelings whilst doing that.”

I’m frozen as I listen to Elijah and he takes a single step towards me. He reaches his hand up and brushes a stray hair behind my ear. 

“You have no idea how long I have waited for you,” His words have me frowning in confusion as he brushes his finger across my cheek, “But, I fear that if I let myself get too close then it will only put you in more danger and I would rather dagger myself before ever letting that happen.”

My chest and my brain don't seem to be working properly as I just stare wide-eyed at the man in front of me. I try to think of something, anything really to say but I can’t seem to get my mouth to form a sentence. 

A loud bang comes from upstairs and Elijah gives me one more look before exiting. I feel like I’m on autopilot as I walk towards the noise, catching sight of Ric and Jenna running towards it as well. I make my way up to Damon’s room and gasp as I see Stefan with a very big piece of wood through his stomach. Ric tries to grab Damon but the ladder pushes him off him before walking out of the room.

“Okay, Jenna, downstairs in the basement are some blood bags,” Ric tells Jenna who is standing in front of me, “Go get them, now. Go!”

Jenna leaves as Elena rips the wood out of Stefan. I walk over and kneel next to them as Elena holds and tries to comfort her hurt boyfriend.

“I’m so sorry,” Stefan groans out.

I frown, confused, “Why is he sorry? He’s the one who got stabbed?”

I’m ignored for a moment as Elena shushes Stefan until he passes out and with tearful eyes, she looks over to me, “Damon he…he fed me his blood. Y/n, I don’t want to be a vampire”

'My chest practically caves in on itself as I hear my friend's small sobs and shake my head in denial, “No…no. There has to be another way. There has to be Elena,” I stand up and look at her once more, “You’re not going to be a vampire.”

—

I storm through the halls and down the stairs until I see Damon in the living room pouring himself a glass of whatever alcohol he has on hand. That anger from before rises at the idea of what he just did.

“You selfish bastard,” I storm over to him and I see Elijah try to stop me from the corner of my eye, only to receive my hand in his face. And as Damon turns around to look at me he receives my fist in his face. 

Damon hisses as my fist flies across his cheekbone and I fight back tears at the pain in my knuckles. I’ve never thrown a punch before but I didn’t realize it would hurt this much. Jesus.

Damon looks back at me as if my punch did nothing to him, which it probably didn’t and I expect him to charge at me, and I’m assuming Elijah does as well because he moves next to me. But all Damon does is stare at me, raise his glass to his lips, downs it, and then exits the living room. 

“You’ve never thrown a punch before have you,” Elijah’s voice has me turning my gaze over to him.

I look at him sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Elijah stares at me and from his face I think he's trying to debate whether to be amused by me or scold me, “A bit, but I applaud you for the effort,” Elijah’s eyes dart towards my hurting hand and he picks it up with his own and inspects it. 

“You’ll have some bruising but thankfully there appears to be no breakage.”

I let out a pained hiss as one of his fingers brushed against my middle knuckle. He instantly stops and looks at me.

“I can heal you if you’d like,” He asks me and I remember back to when he healed me the first time. It feels like another lifetime ago. 

“I’ll be fine,” I dismiss him and he nods but doesn’t drop my hand. He does reach his other hand up and uses his thumb to wipe a stray tear off my cheek. 

“I’m sorry about Elena,” I quickly remember why I punched Damon in the first place and go to question about the elixir but he shakes his head as if he already knows what I’m thinking, “It won’t work any longer. Damon made sure of that when he fed her his blood. When Elena dies she’ll wake up as a vampire."

I shake my head in denial and feel the tears reach my eyes again, “No... Elijah. There has to be another way! Please tell me there’s another way.”

Elijah’s features form to one of sorrow as if he can feel the pain I’m in, “I’m sorry, Elskan. I truly am.”

I shake my head and bite down hard on my lip to try to stop my tears. Elijah reaches up his hand though and frees my bottom lip from my teeth with his thumb. 

“Come here,” Elijah says as he pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my body. The smell of something masculine, almost smoky, surrounds me as he rests his chin on my head. After everything that has happened, if I were to die like this in his embrace, I don’t think I would regret it. 

—

I wipe the remnants of my smeared mascara as I look at myself in my car mirror. After Elijah left the Salvatore’s saying he had some loose ends to clean up before tonight and to not get myself into any more trouble, I went to check on Elena. 

She hugged me for about ten minutes straight and I just rubbed her back as she cried into my shoulder. And I may or may not have cried along with her, feeling heartbroken for my friend. 

Elena and Stefan then left together to go spend her last day as a human together, which is as bittersweet as it is heartbreaking. And after bidding Jenna and Ric a goodbye I found myself driving to the Mystic Grill. That’s why I am now sitting in it’s parking lot trying to collect myself and trying to keep myself busy for what is to happen tonight. 

I open my car door and hold my bruised hand tentatively as I push through the front door to the Grill. I had seen a “Help Wanted,” sign here the other day and if I hopefully survive the night I’ll need a job for the summer. Not being a trust fund baby really sucks ass sometimes. 

Matt Donovan sends me a warm smile as I walk past him. I'd never really talked to the guy other than the few times in class where he’d ask to borrow a pencil or if I could help him with some math equation, but he always seemed sweet. Unlike the stupid jock stereotype, I’ve gotten used to seeing in this town. After being told by Elena what happened to his sister and that now he lives by himself as a 17-year-old because his mom’s a deadbeat, I feel bad for the guy. 

I let out a low groan as I stop my walk towards the bar which is currently occupied by the demon overlord himself. I debate to myself if I should just turn around, but a hand on my shoulder shocks me.

Ric stands there with his hands raised up in apology, “My bad Y/N. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.”

I look at Ric and sigh, “I’m just glad you’re you again.”

Ric nods his head in agreement, “Ya, me too. I didn’t hurt you while I was Klaus right?”

I shake my head, “No Ric, and even if you did it wouldn’t have been your fault. You had no control over yourself.”

Ric sends me a warm smile and nods, “I feel kind of violated, to be honest.”

I snort at his joke, “I don’t blame you.”

“I need a drink,” Ric says as he walks with me up towards the bar and my knuckles start to burn as I stare at the hair on the back of Demon’s head.

“I’ll have the same as him,” Ric says to the waiter as he sits on Damon’s right and I sit down on his left. The waiter then looks at me for my drink order, “A Shirley Temple, please. And a job application?”

The waiter, a half-decent-looking man, smirks as he pulls out a pad of papers from behind the bar and hands them to me before going back to making drinks.

“Job searching, Pukey,” Damon asks from beside me and I stare forward not looking at him.

“Ric,” I call to him and he turns to look at me, “If Damon’s here who do you think is guarding the gates of hell?”

Rics snorts out a deep laugh and I can see Damon scowling from beside me. The waiter comes back and gives Ric his bourbon and me my Shirley Temple. I accidentally grab it with my injured hand and try to cover the hiss I let out, with a cough.

“How’s your hand,” Damon asks from next to me. I’m surprised that his voice doesn’t sound completely sarcastic.

I turn and glare at him, “How’s your face?”

Damon sends me a smirk and gestures to his unmarked face, “Perfect.”

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my Shirley Temple ignoring whatever the two men next to me are talking about. That is until a voice that has my heart doing a fucking backflip in my chest calls from behind us. 

“Gentlemen? Why so glum,” A deep British voice asks and I could’ve sworn goosebumps went up my arms at the sound. What the fuck? 

All three of us turn to match the voice to the face and…Holy shit.

A tall dark-blond man stands about a foot length from me. At this distance, I can see the different shades of blue in his eyes and the small freckles that decorate his perfect nose. 

I hear Damon groan from behind me and I’m not sure why as I’m too busy ogling the pretty man before me. 

“Klaus, I presume.”

I blink. And then I blink again. And then once more as I’m frozen staring at Klaus. The Shirley Temple in my hands starts to shake as I can’t take my eyes off the man. 

“In the flesh. Thanks for the loner, mate,” Klaus smirks at Ric and if I wasn’t in total shock right now I’d defend him. But the man I’ve thought of killing for the past week is standing right in front of me and I was counting how many fucking freckles I could see on his goddamned nose. There’s thirteen.

 Shut tf up Y/n?!

Klaus hasn’t looked my way once and although I should be glad about that a part of my lower stomach drops at the fact.

Damon stands from his seat and goes to face the man, “Any reason you stopped by to say hi?”

“I’m told you and your brother fancy my doppelganger. Just thought I’d remind you not to do anything you’ll regret,” Klaus’ warning doesn’t seem to sway Damon as the ladder lets out a laugh.

“Thanks for the advice. I don’t supposed I could talk you into a postponement by any chance, huh?”

Klaus lets out a chuckle and I swear my heart just skipped a beat. What the fuck Y/n?!?!??

“You are kidding,” Klaus asks and then turns to Ric, “He is kidding, right?”

“No, not really.”

“I mean, come on, what’s one month in the whole grand scheme of things,” Damon asks and I realize that he’s doing this because he doesn’t want Elena to die with vampire blood in her system. 

“Ya, I mean one month is like,” I pretend to count on my fingers, “Like thirty days. I don’t see why you can’t wait that long. You’ve already waited over a thousand years, what’s thirty days?”

I ask the man and this finally has Klaus acknowledging my presence. But honestly, from the way he’s looking at me, I wish I would’ve kept quiet. His eyebrows are drawn together and his lips curve upwards into what I hope isn’t a snarl. Damon must’ve noticed the look too because he moves in front of me blocking me from Klaus’ vision and him from mine. 

“Let me be clear,” I hear Klaus’ deep voice say, “I have my vampire, I have my werewolf. I have everything I need. The ritual will happen tonight. So if you want to live to see tomorrow don’t screw it up.”

I catch sight of Klaus’ back as he strolls away.

“Would I be a bad person to say I kind of hope his werewolf was the Jules’ chick,” I see Ric shoot me an “Are you serious” look and I shrug, “Hey, she was the one who tortured me. I still got the little knife scare on my leg to prove it.”

Damon doesn’t say anything as he sits back down and sighs. 

“You’re gonna screw it up, aren’t you?”

“You think if I took his werewolf out of the equation she might…get over the fact that I tried to turn her into a vampire?”

“Nope,” I say popping the p.

“I think it won’t matter, because you’ll be dead.”

“But without the werewolf he can’t preform the ritual tonight which means I would have bought her one month before the next full moon.”

Ric shakes his head, “But you’ll still be dead.”

Damon leans into him, “Are you gonna help me or what?”

Ric looks at him for a moment, “What do you want me to do?”

I slurp up the rest of my drink, throw a five onto the counter,  and jump up as the two men next to me watch me wearily.

“Alright gentlemen, dream team time!”

Ric raises an eyebrow while Damon shoots me a look of disgust, “I don’t know what the hell that was, but you’re not coming along.”

I frown as I grab my application and follow behind the two men, “Why the hell not? I want to help.”

Damon whips around to me, “Look kid, not happening. There’s already too much shit going down and I can’t be babysitting you, making sure you don’t get killed on my watch. So go back home and we’ll see you tonight. Capiche?”

Damon turns back around and walks to his car. Ric sends me one last smile and a shrug of his shoulders before following behind. I watch the two men drive off and I sigh as I stand in the middle of the parking lot. Anger and sadness building in me, when I realize just how useless I truly am.

—

I try to give Elijah a smile as he opens the SUV door for me. But with the mood I’m in I think the smile comes out more like a frown than anything else. Elijah must notice this too as he reaches his hand out for me to take. I debate it for a moment, 1. Not being a big fan of PDA, and 2. Stefan and Ric are with us and I don’t want them to be angry with me. But then I remember that my best friend is going to die tonight so a little PDA isn’t that huge in the grand scheme of things. 

Elijah seems elated as I place my hand in his and he guides Stefan and I through the woods toward the creepy ass witch house where Bonnie, Jeremy, and Ric are. 

“The sacrifice is completed in stages as the full moon sets,” Elijah explains to us. I feel his hand squeeze mine in comfort and I squeeze his back, “First the werewolf is killed, then the vampire’ and finally the doppelganger. Once Elena dies, the curse will be broken. Klaus will become a hybrid.”

Stefan comes to walk next to us. His eyes go down to Elijah and I’s intertwined hands briefly before looking back up to me. When I send him a weary smile, he sends me a small one in return calming down my nerves.

“So when do we attack,” Ric asks from behind us.

“Elena’s death will activate his dormant werewolf side. He’ll be vulnerable during the transformation. That’s when Bonnie comes in.”

“And you’re sure Bonnie will survive this,” Stefan asks and I’m thankful at least one of the Salvatore brothers has a heart.

“If she can deliver him to the brink of death I’ll finish the job myself.”

Stefan and Ric nod.

“Could I talk to Elijah for a moment,” I ask the two men who share a look before nodding and moving towards the house. 

Elijah turns towards me, “What is wrong, Elskan?”

“Are you going to be able to do it?”

Elijah frowns and shakes his head, “What do you mean?”

“Elijah you’re going to be killing your brother. I know siblings are a pain in the ass,” I think back to Theo and thank whatever higher being is out there that he left town this week, “but even when you hate them…you still love them. I’m not judging you for what you have to do. I’m just asking, are you ready for what you’re about to do?”

Elijah’s face is solemn as he processes what I asked, “Klaus wasn’t my only sibling,” I frown as he continues, “There once was a time when we were all together. But Klaus ruined that when he dumped their bodies in the middle of the Pacific.”

I let out a strangled gasp at Elijah’s confession. His pain evident on his face. 

“Elijah…I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Elijah steps forward and holds the side of my face with his free hand, “You’re so good. So…pure. I didn’t want to strangle out the light you have inside you with my demons.” 

“Elijah, you’re not the only one with skeletons in their closet. Trust me. But I want you to be honest with me. I need you to be. If this,” I gesture between us, “whatever this is. Is going to work. I’d never judge you. I know sometimes I can be a lot but that doesn’t mean I don’t anything but happiness for you. I don’t know what this means but you make me feel something I’d never felt with another human being.”

Elijah stares at me and something in his eyes tugs at my chest, “What is that?”

“Safe. You make me feel safe, Elijah. And I know I’m not some supernatural immortal and I can’t throw a punch to save my life. But, I want to make you feel that way too. However, I can.”

I start to get embarrassed as Elijah stares at me silently and I really wish I would’ve just kept my mouth closed.

“ᛁ ᚹᚨᛚᛚ ᛚᛟᚡᛖ ᛇᚢ ᚢᚾᛏᛁᛚ ᚦᛖ ᛋᚢᚾ ᛖᛗᛈᛚᛟᛞᛖᛋ, ᚦᛖ ᛟᚲᛖᚨᚾᛋ ᛞᚱᛁ ᚢᛈ, ᚺᚢᛗᚨᚾ ᛚᛁᚠᛖ ᚺᚨᛋ ᛚᛟᚾᚷ ᛋᛖᚾᚲᛖ ᚷᛟᚾᛖ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᚾᛟᛏᚺᛁᚾᚷ ᛒᚢᛏ ᛗᚣ ᛋᛟᚢᛚ. ᛒᚢᛏ ᛖᚡᛖᚾ ᛏᚺᛖᚾ ᛁ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ ᛋᛏᛁᛚᛚ ᛒᛖᛚᛟᚾᚷ ᛏᛟ ᚢ. ᛖᚡᛖᚱᚢᛏᚦᛁᚾᚷ ᛁ ᚨᛗ ᛁᛊ ᚢ,” Elijah says in some old language I can’t place. 

“What exactly did you just say to me,” I ask, expecting the worst.

Elijah smiles and places a kiss on my temple, “I feel safe with you as well, Elskan.”

“I’m going now,” Stefan interrupts us and I move away from Elijah shocked.

The sense of warmth and peace I just had completely washed away as soon as those words left Stefan’s mouth. 

“You should get inside Y/N. Bonnie needs you,” Stefan says to me making me frown. But I nod as I walk through the threshold of the house. Elijah follows me as I stand next to Ric. After a moment Bonnie and Damon walk up the basement stairs and out the front door. I frown as Ric and I follow them and Elijah squeezes my hand once more before dropping it as he passes through the threshold. Ric and I are pushed back though.

“What the hell?”

Ric yells from next to me, “Bonnie! What is this?”

Bonnie turns back towards us, “I can’t put anyone else at risk. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t do this! What if he goes after Jenna,” Ric asks angry.

“Jenna safe locked in at the Salvatore’s.”

“Damon?”

Damon sends us a look, “Sorry buddy. She’s right.”

I look to Elijah for help but from the look on his face he doesn’t seem surprised.

“You knew.”

Elijah turns to me one last time, “I meant what I said about protecting you. If I have to kill my brother to do that, I will. I’m sorry, Elskan. I will see you soon.”

I watch silently, as he turns his back on me and disappears into the woods. So much for trust. 

—-

I watch as my history teacher paces in front of me. Jeremy’s unconscious body lay on the couch next to me and Elena's estranged bald father who looks like Charlie Brown watches us wearily. If you had told me I’d be in this situation a month ago I would’ve called you crazy and set up an appointment for you with my therapist mother. But here I am. Yippee. 

I stand up, and both of the grown men watch me, “Just using the bathroom. Wait…Does this place even have a bathroom,” I ask but groan when I get no answer. I’m about to make my way out of the room when a piercing pain slices through my chest.

It only takes one scream from my lips before Ric is at my side. His mouth is moving but the sheer pain I’m experiencing makes it so I can’t process his words. I watch with teary eyes and sobs coming out of my mouth as Ric lifts his hand from my chest and his eyes widen. The crimson liquid coating his hand is the last thing I see before the world goes black.

—

3rd Person POV- 

Bonnie screams out her spell as she crushes Klaus’s body. Fire burns around them as the once powerful Original lay in agonising pain. From the shadows, Elijah stalks towards his younger brother. 

Elijah stands above him. A mask of anger covers his face as he leans down to stare at the man he once called a brother and a friend. 

“Elijah?”

Klaus stares up at the man he once saw as his protector, and for the first time in centuries, Klaus feels true fear. 

“Hello, brother.”

Stefan and Bonnie watch from afar as Elijah plunges his arm into his brother’s chest. Wrapping his hand around his still-beating heart. 

“In the name of our family…Niklaus…”

“I didn’t bury them at sea,” Klaus’ desperate voice halts Elijah momentarily before shaking off what he believes to be a trick.

“I know about Y/n,” Those four words have Elijah pausing, “I know what she is to you. And I know she's the same to me.”

The hand that was once clenched around Klaus’ heart slacks as Elijah stares at his brother in horror.

“You’re lying,” Elijah snarls.

Klaus shakes his head, “I wish I was, brother. But I’m not. And if you kill me what do you think will happen to her. Are you really going to take that risk?”

Elijah’s once cool face breaks and turns into one of horror as he looks at his hand that is in his brother’s chest. 

Stefan noticing this lapse of judgement speaks up, “Elijah, don’t listen to him.”

“Elijah,” Klaus says, “Think of her.” 

“Do it and I’ll take you both out,” The Bennet witch threatens.

Elijah looks up to her, “You’ll die.”

“I don’t care.”

Stefan and Bonnie watch in horror as Elijah speeds himself and his brother out of the flames and into the night, leaving only silence and heartbreak. 

— 

“Why are we going to this again,” My brother asks from the hallway outside my room as I fix my black dress in my mirror. My hands freeze for a moment as they land on the spot on my chest that was bleeding just the night before. 

-Flashback-

I woke with a gasp and before I could get a second to breathe I felt someone grasp my shoulders into a hug.

“You’ve really got to stop freaking me out like this,” A soft voice says into my ear.

I pull back and my eyes widen to see Elena with glossy eyes staring back at me.

I shake my head confused, “What happened? Did the ritual happen? Who died? Are you a…,” I pause before finishing my last question.

Elena sends me a smile and shakes her head, “They found another way.”

I feel a smile break out onto my face and I go to sit up to hug her but a sharp pain in my chest stops me.

“Don’t move ok. Just lay still,” Elena coaxes me back onto the coach I’m lying on.

“What happened?”

-End of Flashback-

In Elena and Ric’s spark notes version of the night, about 20 minutes after Stefan, Bonnie, and, Elijah left for the ritual I fell down to the ground in pain, screaming and yelling, and when Ric went to check on me I had blood spilling from my chest. Right above where my heart is. Ric said there was so much blood he couldn’t find where it was coming from but after holding pressure on it for another ten minutes the bleeding had stopped and when he moved his hands from my chest I had no wounds that showed I had been wounded. 

Alaric told me he was surprised that I was still breathing after losing the blood that I did. He also told me that while I was unconscious he found Damon slipping me some of my blood. And if I wasn’t as sore as I was I’d have bitched him out. I’ll just put that on the back burner for now. As well as figuring out what the hell is wrong with me. Bonnie said she couldn’t feel any spells or curses on me so at least that’s a plus. I guess. Also, I haven’t seen Elijah in over a day. Honestly, I don’t know if I could face him right now anyway. I’m pissed that he betrayed us, but there’s a part of me that is happy he didn’t kill his brother. A part I’m not telling the public because right now I’m off to a funeral for Elena’s dad who did die.

Elena told me he had Bonnie do some spell that switched his life for hers. And as much as I disliked the guy, I got to give it to him he showed up in the end. RIP Charlie Brown. 

“We’re going because Elena’s my friend and her dad died, Theo. Try to not be an asshole for the afternoon please,” I say as I meet my brother at the front door of our house. My mother and he came back early last night because she had to get home for some work thing. Typical. But that also means I get to be with Theo for the day and after almost dying yesterday, I realized that I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to say goodbye to him, and today could’ve been my funeral he’d be going to. A chill runs down my spine at the thought and I fight back a set of tears.

“Okay, I promise. I’m sorry,” Theo says as he notices a tear fall down my face.

I smile at my little brother and pull him into a hug.

“I knew you missed me,” I can hear the smirk in his voice as I laugh into his suit jacket. 

“Ya, whatever loser let’s go.”

—

I watch with tear-filled eyes as Elena places a rose on her biological father’s grave and then walks over to her parent's matching graves and places roses on them. Theo stands next to me with a solemn expression on his face, Jeremy is next to him, Bonnie, Caroline, and Tyler stand behind us, and Jenna is on my left as she holds Ric’s hand. I turn to look over my shoulder and I catch Damon’s eye as he stands against a tree. And for the first time ever I almost swore he smiled at me. Damn, maybe he’s dying too. 

—

“I’ll be in the car,” Theo says to me and begins to walk away but not before bringing Jeremy in for a bro hug. I watch as my brother safely gets to the car and then I begin to walk over to Elena but see her already crowded with our friends. My gaze goes towards Damon who stands facing the graveyard and I frown. 

“I have a bone to pick with you. You can’t just go and put blood into people’s mouths while they’re-” I say as I approach him. 

“I’m happy you’re ok, Y/N.”

Damon’s interruption and the sincerity in his voice make me halt as I approach him. 

“Wait…I think I’m hallucinating because I could’ve sworn you just called me by my actual name,” I walk up to him and jokingly smirk, “You dying or something?”

“Tyler Lockwood bit me.”

Oh. Fuck.

Translation-

“​​I will love you until the sun explodes, the oceans dry up, human life has long since gone and I am nothing but my soul. But even then I will still belong to you. Everything I am is you.”

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

the lack of Dark Leo content is killing me 😭 that man is so fine af

Can I request Dark! Leo fucking his s/o stupid 👉 👈?

A Night With Dark Leo (18+)

Dark Leonardo x reader

A/N: Our fine man is getting his turn for some hot ass sexy time🖤💙 A short one, more of a listening of how sex with Dark Leo would be, instead of a scenario, but not exactly a headcanon. Hope you enjoy anyway🖤💙

All characters are aged up.

Warning: Hard sex, manhandling, overstimulation, oral - female receiving, Dark Leo doing what Dark Leo wants to.

When Leo first was one you, there was no way you could get him off of you, before he himself decided he was done. Your park kanabo, part turtle boyfriend, was a beast of a man, towering above you and the people living in New New York City, with muscles bigger than his own head, and the stamina of a wild animal. Whenever he got the slightest hint that you were in the mood, even just a tiny bit, he would pick you up from the spot, before locking you in the bedroom with him, so he could have his way with you for hours.

You had nothing against Leo pleasuring you for hours. Actually, you loved it. You especially loved his rough ways of handling you, not telling you what to do, but instead throwing you into the position he wanted you in. He would take you by the legs and pull you to his mouth, having your body almost hanging in free air, while he ate and licked from your dripping core. He would ignore your overstimulated please, continuing by his heart's desire, watching you try to support yourself with shaky arms on the mattress, your thighs closing around his head once more.

After you came on his tongue the third time in a row, Leo would lower you onto his already dropped member, letting your upper back rest on the bed, while lining himself up with your entrance, while he still stood standing at the foot of the bed. He would take in your features, while his big hands continued to hold your hips raised up against him. Your flushed cheeks and your hooded eyes, staring at him with parted lips, and your shirt rolled up over your naked breasts, your hair in a tangled mess, while your hands clung onto the bed sheets.

You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, but all your words turned into incoherent moans as Leo pushed his thick member into you, stretching out your overstimulated walls, making you throw your head back onto the mattress, your eyes rolling back. Your breast bounced as Leo thrusted into you, hitting your spot over and over again, just like he would do another time the two of you were intimate.

Leo let out a loud animalistic groan, increasing his speed against you, the sound of his hips slapping against your thighs, echoing through the room. Your knees and toes curled, letting Leo know that your fourth orgasm wasn’t far away.

Nothing but Leo’s name left your lips, any other words turning into mush in your mouth, except his name sounding like a prayer, spurring Leo on, plowing into you with his strong hands digging into your hips.

You wailed and squirmed under Leo, your hands fighting to hold onto the bed sheets as your fourth orgasm was threatening to push you over the edge. But Leo’s moves never faltered. Instead he kept going, growling all sorts of dirty things out loud, mixing with the sound of your skin slapping together, and the lewd wet noises from his cock pumping in and out of you. And within a few hard and fast thrusts, you came gushing all over Leo’s hard member, crying out in immense pleasure.

But Leo wasn’t done yet. It was rare that he would let you go, without bringing you several orgasms and letting himself cum at least once. And therefore Leo picked you up with ease, not letting you recover from your latest high, your head still spinning, before throwing you on to your hands and knees. From here he held you up by your hips once more, your knees just barely touching the mattress, before he plunged back into you, continuing from where he left off, at a high speed, hitting your spot over and over again, causing you to scream out in incoherent words and sounds.

Leo was getting close, his hips becoming frantic as they slammed against your ass cheeks, watching as they jiggled from the impact. Leo felt the pressure build up behind his cloaca, letting him know that he was close, with your rapidly closing walls around him only bringing him closer by the second. It was here, as Leo felt himself dangle over the edge, he quickly picked you up, wrapping one arm around your waist, pressing you back against his plastron, while the other hooked under your leg, forcing your thighs apart, bouncing you on his member.

You clung onto Leo’s arms, nails digging into his skin, crying out as your fifth high was coming dangerously close. The hand holding your thigh open, moved to your center, where Leo’s fingers started working on your overstimulated clit. Your muscles locked up, your body convulsing and tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. Your walls suddenly closing in on Leo was what pushed him over the edge, groaning loudly as he spilled himself into you, resting inside of you for a moment. From here he would slowly slip out of you and tuck himself away, still carrying your weak body in his arms, eyes still hazy from the non stop pleasure Leo had brought you. Leo pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before carrying you to the bathroom, so he could run a bath for both you and him. A bath that would clean off your sweat covered bodies, and give both of you some time to calm down, before you would go to bed for the night.

[the-fiction-witch]

Sweetling P4

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Smut Word Count - 1335

Smut (18+) - heavy kissing/ nudity/ bitting/ fingering/ Full sex/ praising/ DOMXSUB/ Spanking/ punishing/ O/ Forced O/ (I think that's all of them)

A low groan left him as his body left hers. Jacaerys grabbed his clothes from the floor and started to dress, getting a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His pale skin had been marked by her, bites and hickeys left on his neck, collarbone, stomach… evidence of their night together and their love.

Y/n moved to kneel behind him on the bed pressing her naked front to his bare back, she kissed his neck and shoulders as her hands stroked his stomach, "Jace, my darling Jace…"

The feeling of her body pressed to his nearly sent his body shuddering. He groaned and took a steadying breath. Gods… he wanted her again. “Y/n…” His voice came out in little more than a groan. He tilted his head to give her better access to his neck. “I must get dressed… please don’t make this more difficult for me...”

She continues kissing him and muttering his name her hands moving to stroke and try and harden his cock with innocent giggles,

His hands gripped the bed sheets at his thighs as he felt her start to harden him once more. Jacaerys let out a low growl as his head tilted back, exposing more of his neck to her. “Gods above…”

"Please Jace just five more minutes" she begged, "I'll let you bend me over the bed," she whispered trying to tempt him

He groaned at her words, his mind already thinking and imagining doing just that, of bending her over on her knees down the bed and ravishing her as he digs his nails into her ass, “Sweetling…” His voice came out strained and breathy. “I must get ready…”

"I'll let my darling Jace play with my nipples, even suck on them" she encourages whispering in his ear nibbling on his lobe,

“Seven hells…” Jacaerys groaned once again. He was losing the fight against her, against himself… “You are so very naughty, sweetling…” He growled, one hand reaching up to grasp the back of her head. “You shall drive me mad…”

"Perhaps then if I have been so naughty you should spank me Jacaerys. Bend me over your lap, spank me good and torment me with your fingers inside me rather than the cock I so crave,"

His breath hitched at her suggestion, a shudder running through his entire body. He pulled her head back, gently grasping at her hair. “Oh, I shall punish you…” His voice was low and deep, a deep growl against her ear. “Come here…” His hand that had grasped the back of her head was now pulling her around and onto his lap, settling her on him so her ass was on full display and he could pull her head back He growled softly as he positioned her bent over his lap. “You must learn your lesson, sweetling… that your words are far too tempting…” One of his hands came to rest lightly over her flesh, giving his words a moment to sink in. Once he’d given her time to prepare himself, he raised his hand up and brought it down, not too hard… not yet.

"Jace!" "She moans

He groaned at her moan and he spanked her again, a little harder. “Do not… use… that… name… not when I’m punishing you,” He spanked her again and again while he leaned over her, his breath hot on her skin. “Say my real name…”

"Jacaerys!"

He groaned again and spanked her again, the soft flesh of her ass pinking under his hand. “I love it… how you say it…” he groans, “Say it again…” He commanded his hand landing on her skin again.

"Jacaerys! Darling!" "She squealed

That… was more like it. “That’s my good girl…” He whispered against her skin, his hand gently rubbing over the reddened skin of her ass from his spanking. “I think I’ll reward you for that…” His hand reached down, slipping between her legs and rubbing against her clit. “You are so lovely… my sweet y/n, you feel so perfect…” he rubs her nub of pleasure and thrusts his fingers inside making her squeal and squirms completely at his mercy, Her squeals and squirms made his blood run hot and needy, his breaths coming out heavy and strained while he worked his fingers into her. “Gods…” He groaned, his free hand rubbing along her back. “So… perfect…” he gasped, “Tell me what you want…” He whispered while he leaned over her, his own body needy but having to wait until this moment was over. “I want to hear how you want me to touch you…”

"Jacaerys please I'm"

He groaned as she whimpered please, his fingers rocking slowly inside her. “What do you want, sweetling?” He nipped at her neck, pressing soft kisses to her skin along with his words. His body felt like it was on fire and all he wanted now was to make her crumble and writhe beneath him.

she didn't need to answer as her body trembles, laid naked over his knee her body squirmed, she screamed his name and squirted down his hand and her own legs as she came,

His breath hitched as she screamed his name and came all over his hand. “Oh sweet girl, have you made quite the mess of my hand…” He whispered, letting her regain her breath while he gently rubbed her rear. “What shall we do about this..?”

She whimpers her body trembling at his touch "Get given a spanking for making such a mess"

“Very well, my sweetlingl. Since you have made quite the mess and are quite the naughty girl…” His hand spanked down on her once more, the skin pinking under his palm. “One for making a mess.” His hand came down again. “Two… for making me want to do this instead of preparing for my wedding…” The third one was harder, leaving his handprint behind on her cheek. “Three… for getting me so worked up once more …” The fourth one was very light, more of a tap than a spanking. “Four… for your teasing and tempting words..”

"Jacaerys please!" She begged him

He chuckled softly, a low sound against her skin. “Please… what?” He gently rubbed her skin, still pink from her spanking. Though his hand was far from done. “Use your words for me…”

"no more please Jacaerys"

He hummed softly, his hand moving away from her skin, rubbing along her legs instead. “Alright, you shall have enough.” Jacaerys shifted her carefully, lifting her from his lap and moving to hold her in his arms instead with her resting in his lap.

she sat exaughted "You should get ready..."

He looked back at the mirror, his own skin still marked by her mouth. “I suppose I shall have to… my sweet girl…” Jacaerys reached for his clothes, dressing quickly so he was once presentable and looked every inch the groom to be.

She giggled laying on his bed completely naked her ass still red from her spanking, legs covered in her squirt her body had stains of his seed as she plays with hair, "So handsome"

He groaned and his hand came to adjust his pants at the sight of her on his bed. “Gods above…” He groaned, the sight of her driving him nearly crazy. "You’re a tease, sweet girl…”

She giggled as she laid on her stomach on his bed pressing her breasts I took the sheets and curved her back to show off her ass as much as she could, she giggled at the adjusting of his pants she knew she was making him hard and she was doing so on purpose

Jacaerys grunted as his hand adjusted his pants once more, her giggling and her teasing sending him crazy. “Y/n…” He groaned, his voice hoarse as he watched her, his eyes drinking the sight of her in. “If you keep that up we shall never make it to the ceremony…”

she giggled and moved her legs apart spreading them as far as she could,

Her giggling and the sight of her legs moving apart almost made him go completely feral. His hand reached out, grabbing her ankle and pulling her closer to him. “You’re going to kill me, sweetling.”

Masterlist Of Jacaerys Velaryon

Commission Page

[alpydk]

Tender and Tired

So, me and @judasiskariot got chatting and with it came a prompt that I was given the OK to work on ^^ - So, of course, I did and somehow ended up writing the story of Devorah (she's so beautiful!) which was one of her Tav's. An amazing experience writing this and I'm just so glad you enjoyed it and am letting me share her with the world. <3

Prompt - "And of course combine angst and smut! 😆 also like...maybe... 🤔 fear of losing someone/fighting for their life and than survive, comforting after horror and rescue and relief sex because happy ending and reveal the feelings that they had not done before and almost never had the chance?"

Word Count - 3734 Words - CW - Angst / Pining / Smut - (Blowjob) - Happy ending ;)

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Just stay with me…”

The dark blood was seeping through Gale’s wrap shirt, a crimson weed growing amongst the fields of cotton lying on his abdomen. The sweat beaded on his brow and all Devorah could do was hold her hands to the wound, a quiet prayer hung unspoken on her lips, so many desperate words unshared between them never to be uttered.

---

Devorah lay within the forest, Astarion’s cool arms draped over her bare chest as the stars glistened above them in the night sky. Her eyes followed each constellation, a path home should she ever find herself truly lost, but could those same stars lead her to what her heart truly desired? These passionate nights had been ‘fun’ just as he’d promised, bodies entwined, the piercing bite to her neck leaving her tiptoeing the path between life and death. All she had to do was let go, just as he did, and yet, just like him, her mind was always elsewhere.

“You sleep less than me,” he mumbled into the crook of her neck, planting an icy kiss upon her soft skin.

“Hm. Difficult to sleep when we don’t know what’s ahead of us.”

He dragged a fingertip across her naked breast, causing her to suck in a breath in expectation. “I find it more difficult to sleep knowing what lies behind me.”

Devorah moved her body weight so she could face him. His cherry tinged eyes held an insatiable hunger but behind them a depth that would creep out, a bound child locked in darkness, scared of the burning light. She had heard the nightmares through the tadpole, seen the face of Cazador, felt the words of pure loathing spat at Astarion through the pinhole opening of an entombed prison. Anything ahead would be better than what he’d left behind.

“I guess I just hope for a future. You know marriage, romance, love…” she sighed. “But with the tadpoles, what if they-”

Astarion interrupted her, knowing where she was going with her questioning. “Then I’d kill you, just as you would kill me. We would both die long before that happened.” He lifted his head to be above her, their current position a little too emotionally intimate for his liking. “A much more pleasant run around the second time, I’m hoping.”

“Death? Or were you thinking of something else?” Devorah gave him a playful smirk, her hand running up the side of his pale-skinned abdomen.

“And here I thought I was the insatiable one.”

Love would have to wait, she decided, as once again she lost herself in the illusions of a near-death fantasy.

---

“Not relaxing in the comfort of another’s arms this evening, my dear?” Gale asked, not lifting his eyes from the pages before him.

Devorah scowled at him as he sat upon a woollen blanket near his tent. Obviously, the petty argument between her and Astarion had been heard. Nothing serious, but another bickering over a ritual she knew was too dangerous to commit to. Of course, he wanted that kind of power; who wouldn’t? But seven thousand souls were far more than she would allow to rest on her conscience.

“No, if you must know,” she said curtly, her mood still a simmering anger beneath the surface.

Since arriving in the Shadowlands, her passionate relationship had been affected by the surrounding curse. At least that was her only explanation for what was going on between her and Astarion. Their nights together were more of just scratching an itch with one another than enjoying each other’s company. Their conversations had dwindled to a couple of words, and the sniping and cattiness was becoming almost nightly. It had to be the curse. It was certainly not the way her attention kept being pulled by the deep brown eyes of her warm-blooded companion, one who spoke with the lilt of a poet, one who made her heart beat with a warmth seen only in Karlach.

Gale lifted his head, noting the aggression in her tone. “Do you want to discuss it?”

Devorah noted the space next to him, the way he placed his book aside with all his attention dedicated to her. “Honestly, that’s the last thing I want to do.”

“They why not simply sit and enjoy a moment of silence with me?” He lifted his hand and with it, the world grew quiet. There were no longer the groans of the cursed creatures in the distance, the crackling of the campfire was now but a dance of light and shadow, and Devorah for the first time in what felt like an age could hear her own thoughts without interruption of the outside world.

She sat beside him before closing her eyes and breathing deeply, noticing the lack of sound that came out as she exhaled. It was strangely comforting, a glimpse of death before darkness truly fell. She felt as Gale pulled himself closer to her, sharing his warmth and life, something she had missed in the arms of her lover. Her shoulders relaxed, her heartbeat calmed as if she were about to fall asleep, and for a moment there was no tadpole, no looming death over their heads.

Opening her eyes, she saw his soft gaze upon her, noticed the chestnut strands of hair that wisped upon his brow. If it wasn’t for the subtle ache in her neck, a reminder of nights gone, she knew she would have kissed him in that moment, a future of conjured peaceful moments filling her with longing.

But just as there was no sound, there were also no kisses on warm lips that night.

---

Days and nights passed where both Devorahand Gale denied what was happening between them. The hidden glances across flames, the brush of hands together in passing, a night under illusionary stars where both had dared not think of a bleak future. Neither would speak up about what was occurring, of the times where both found calm just in each other’s company. He would simply watch as she vanished into her lover’s tent, leaving him alone to wonder if things could have been different if he were different. And she would not speak of the nights of lying in cold arms, dreaming of a future she would never have, if only she had made different choices, if only she too were different.  

---

With the setting of the sun, the docks shone as if aflame, a low hung dust filling the air from the destruction of the city. Alone stood Devorah, her mind quiet, her heart slowed, her wishes of love buried under remembrance of her recent dance with Death. Now, with the Netherbrain defeated, her companions had dispersed, leaving her with only the tangled threads of fate and no clear path ahead. She looked out over the water; the portal having just vanished before her with the lives of her friends. She could see the scorch marks of Karlach’s departure, blackened and ashen, upon the boards beneath leather boots, a reminder that the God of Death could be beaten if only you were willing to fight for it, if only you kept the people you loved at your side.

As they’d left the Shadowlands, Devorah had spoken at length with Astarion about his own ideas of their ‘love’. It was all so complicated, many a vulnerable moment shared and considered, and both knew in their hearts that nothing good would come of remaining together. Instead, they left with growth and loss. Friendship had been the overall outcome of the discussion, and it was that which he certainly needed if he were to heal. She welcomed this, but deep down mourned what she had missed out on: not what she could have had with him, but what she’d given up on being with him in the first place.

Now, as the sun slowly descended across the skies of the Sword Coast, she thought of the one she knew she loved, the one she had let leave to save them both the heartbreak. The waves licked the pillars beneath her and with the exhaustion of victory came the further stirrings of her mind. A realisation that despite everything they had been through together, she had ended up alone. Shadowheart, Karlach, Wyll, all to Avernus in one fell swoop, Astarion fleeing as the sunlight cracked his porcelain flesh. And Gale…

Devorah sighed, remembering the few words he had spoken to her after all had happened, how the familiar sight of pain had clung on to him despite the orb’s stabilisation so long ago. He’d bid his farewells and sluggishly walked towards the city, his steps heavy, much like her own. So much went unsaid, so many glances at one another’s lips ignored, so many masks and walls to avoid hurting each other, just as they’d been hurt in the past.

She left the docks, a sense of weariness motioning her forward. Wine upon her lips was all she could think of, a scarlet swirl as it would pour into the glass, much like the trail of blood that lay upon the cobbles, a trail from the spot Gale had said his farewells. It took a moment for her mind to catch up with the sight, a realisation that his pain was not simply Mystra’s unfair consequences but that of something severely wrong and a man who would never wish to be a burden to another.   

Her slow steps upon the stones of the streets soon became a hurried pace as spattered traces of blood grew to crimson pools down shadowed alleyways. Her body ached with each quickened turn around the corners, but it mattered little as panic filled her lungs with the images of what she would find. If she had allowed him to leave with nothing but a simple goodbye, for him to then die alone… If only she had taken a chance, refused to lose herself in the cool embrace of another, then maybe she too could have beaten the God of Death with her loved one at her side. She rushed through groups of survivors, knowing she had to find him, hoping that he had not drawn his last breath and been taken from her for good.

---

It was in a small dimly lit room at the Elfsong Tavern that she found him; his purple robes tossed aside with little regard for where they landed, now stained with the blood from his own hands. He sat exhausted at the foot of the small bed, his fingertips sticky with coagulated blood and fumbling with the ties of his shirt as he tried to get to the wound and see the damage.

She was quickly upon him, moving his hands aside with ease, feeling the way he tried to prevent her from helping.

“It’s nothing, my dear,” he weakly spoke. Colour had drained from his cheeks, his normal slight tan now growing close to that of Astarion’s pallor.

“Don’t bullshit me, I’ve got eyes.” She tugged at the strings that had become knotted throughout the day, wishing he could have just worn buckles like the rest of them. “What even happened? Why didn’t you say anything? How could you…?” She was growing emotional with each second that passed, fear taking over. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, lose him.

He gripped her arm, the shades of red transferring to her own shirt. “A cultist as we climbed the tower. I didn’t notice…” His words were growing slower, quieter as the light faded from his eyes.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Just stay with me…”

The dark blood was seeping through Gale’swrap shirt, a crimson weed growing amongst the fields of cotton lying on his abdomen. The sweat beaded on his brow and all Devorah could do was hold her hands to the wound, a quiet prayer hung unspoken on her lips, so many desperate words unshared between them never to be uttered. His eyes grew heavy in front of her, his breaths slowing to quiet gasps. She gave up on the shirt, instead pressing her hands to the wound, the whispered prayer finally emerging with the faint glow under her fingertips. It wasn’t much, but it would keep him with her and for that, at least, she was thankful.

---

It had taken all Devorah’s strength to get Gale into the bed after he had lost consciousness. She’d managed the healing spell to keep him stable but knew with no potions available and her own spells limited to speaking with animals, speaking with the dead, anything but something useful, she’d struggle to get him back on his feet. She finally untied his shirt, revealing his chest beneath it, the dried blood staining his skin to a deep pink. The bleeding had thankfully stopped with the spell, but the remnants of the incident remained. She peeled back the fabric, finding the wound to his side, the deep cut that would surely leave a scar upon his pristine flesh.

Taking a cloth and a bowl of warm water, she perched herself on the edge of the cotton bedsheets next to him. Her voice was quiet, not wanting to wake him, but hoping that on some level he might hear her and find comfort. “Gale…Whatever are we going to do with you?” The cloth took some of the staining from his skin and she gave a gentle smile, seeing his normal colour slowly returning to him.

She took in a deep breath as she worked, relieving the tension in her shoulders. As she placed the cloth in the bowl, she saw as the water turned a murky red. “I always thought that if me and you got together, the first time I’d see you with your shirt off would be after too many glasses of wine and some of that poetry you dabbled in.” The cloth was wrung out before being placed back on his skin, a rogue drop of water running down the side of his stomach onto the bed.

“Always quite liked your poetry… Made me feel alive…” She chuckled to herself quietly. “Sorry, poor use of words there.” Devorah looked over her work, the way his wound was still angry but now no longer running the risk of infection. She’d need to collect some potions, but at least he wouldn’t die whilst she was away. Or at least she hoped he wouldn’t. Placing the damp cloth and bowl to the side, she glanced over at him before standing to leave. “Gale,” she hesitated. Would he hear her words? Were they worth saying when death still skulked in the shadows? “Nevermind… Just, don’t go anywhere.”   

---

It was hours before Gale woke again, his colour back to normal and the wound mostly healed. He felt the sting on his side, the ache of his muscles as he tried to pull himself up on the bed to sit up and gather his surroundings. Trying to retrace his steps proved difficult as he thought back to the docks and the winding trek to the tavern.

“You shouldn’t be trying to move, you know.”

He looked around for the voice; the world spinning a little with the movement. “Devorah?”

She approached him, a glass of cold water in her hand. “Yeah. How’re you feeling?”

“Like one that has been caught in the cascade of a Bibberbang explosion.”

She smiled at his answer. “Well, you’re still as articulate as ever.” Devorah passed him the water, her fingertips lightly brushing his as she handed over the glass. “Here, drink this. It’ll get rid the aftertaste of the potions.”

Gale had been curious what the obscure taste was upon his tongue, one of balsam and berries, sickly sweet. He grasped the water, savouring it in his mouth before swallowing and letting out a satisfied exhale. “You saved me.”

“It was just water,” she replied, dodging his true meaning, averting her gaze from him. His gratitude was not something she wanted. She would have walked through flames if it meant him living. She would have taken the orb from his chest and imbedded it in her own if it meant he could go on with his life.

“We both know that is not what I speak of. Devorah-”

“Gale,” she interrupted

“I love you.”

She lifted her head instantly, a hint of confusion on her face. “What did you say?”

He smiled softly, his fingertips raising up beneath her chin. “Something that I should have said to you many moons ago.” He should have said it under conjured starlight, or before they entered the High Hall. He should have said it with every breath that escaped him. “Devorah, I love you.”

For a moment she was speechless, her own words trapped in her throat as if saying them would dispel the illusion before her. They replayed in her head, the sweet melody of his voice once again calming her soul as he had done so many times before. The God of Death had once again been beaten. The tiptoed path upon a near-death precipice halted as a choice was made, as the love she had once dreamt of under glistening stars became finally within her grasp. “I love you too, Gale,” she whispered.

Warm lips found one another; the taste of healing potions shared between them, as a buried yearning was released. As Devorah moved herself on to Gale’s lap, he let out a soft groan.

“Careful, my love…”

Tender kisses were placed down his neck, down the weaving trails left by the orb. She traced her fingers gently down his body, each one working as if he were the rare tomes of a forbidden library. She could smell the traces of ink from his books still upon him, as if he still stood in his tower in Waterdeep. Each touch of his skin upon lips brought her a fresh wave of life that she had never felt before, a new longing for more of him. She would not lose herself; she would find him, and she would be with him in full.

Her kisses worked further down his body, through the soft bed of chest hair, her legs shifting down until she was sitting in front of him. “Let me love you, as you deserve to be loved.”

There was a moment of hesitation from Gale, his need to serve, his need to give, trying to burst through. He wanted to provide her with everything he’d been unable to, to make up for lost nights where he’d watched her depart too many times. He saw the love in eyes, felt as her hand trailed up his inner thigh, his touch starved body reacting with little regard for what his mind’s opinion was. All he could do was give a tentative nod.

Devorah’s hands came to the drawstrings of his trousers, a slow tug of each as she looked into his eyes. “Lie back, relax.”

Gale slid down slowly on the bed, his head still resting on the headboard to watch her. “Easy for you to say.”

She playfully smiled, pulling at his trousers and looking concerned as he winced with the rise of his hips. “Still in pain?”

“Nothing I’ve not felt before.”

“That’s not how it should be, though.” She ran her hand along his leg, a comforting palm to ease his nerves.

He sighed deeply with the sensation of her hand; his body exposed to her completely. There had been no wine, no poetry or charm for this moment. This was simply what she wanted to do, and he was struggling to accept that she could ever want this with him. As her flushed lips caught the skin of his stomach, he leant his head back, his eyes closing to fight past the overwhelming pound of his heart rate. It was as her hand came around the base of his cock that he let out an involuntary gasp and looked down at her. “You’re…”

“Do you trust me?”

His voice was almost a whisper. “Yes.”

As her heated mouth wrapped around him in full, there was little Gale could do than release a desperate sound. His thoughts ran wild, the sensation, the vulnerability, the love and devotion she was willing to give him after all that has happened. The pain in his side meant little to him as wave after wave of pleasure warmed his body. His hands found her shoulder, a grip on her skin to ground himself in reality. “Devorah…”

She continued to move, her tongue running up his length greedily. She heard her name, felt his grasp. “Hm?” she replied, not removing herself from what she had longed for in so long.

Words escaped him. The world around him abandoned him only to her touch, to the wordless declaration of love she gave to him, that she wanted to give to him. He could not speak, he could only release the long-held moans as her tongue ran along his shaft, as her moistened lips held him close. He glanced down, a quick glimpse of her watching his pleasure pushing him to the edge almost instantaneously. It had been so long since he had felt anything like that, long nights alone with his own touch, nothing in comparison to the way she touched him. Gale was overwhelmed, the sight of her, her eyes on his, her subtle smile curving with her lips as he clasped tighter to her shoulder. He wanted to fight it, wanted each second to span into infinite moments of enjoyment, but there was little he could do as all self-control shattered with her love.

Her pace quickened, her depth increasing, and his head fell back, a burning light of white in front of his eyes as his release hit, warm and unstoppable. He didn’t feel her move to his side as the room continued spinning around him, as the shadow of death was quickly replaced by nothing but the afterglow of life. It was as his heart rate slowed that he heard her speaking, a quiet admittance of feelings, the first that would come for many years to come.

“Thank you for not dying.” Devorah uttered, pausing for a second and placing her head on his head, listening to the way his heart beat as it slowly steadied. “And for making me feel alive.”

[izvmimi]

cw: bodily injury. depression. violence. vengeance themes.

You kneel, shoulders hunched over your toilet bowl, the sour taste of stomach acid still lingering on your tongue. Despite the minutes of retching that felt like hours, you have yet to stop shaking, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead. It's the third time you've woken up screaming in the past couple of days, and you are afraid to stand up, save you catch a glimpse of your own still swollen and battered face in the mirror and lurch anew.

You can't go on like this.

Legs semisolid and cold like refrigerated Jell-O, you clamber up to your feet. Now that your nausea has abated for a moment, you might as well attempt to go back to sleep. Unlikely, but you can still dream.

Your one-bedroom apartment is frigid in the wee hours of the morning. Shivering, you limp back to bed and curl into fetal position under paper-thin sheets. If you sleep with anything heavier, you panic and feel as though you are suffocating; any less covered, and you feel insecure and naked, like someone could snatch you away at any second. Again.

Izuku had warned you early on that you could be a target at any time, and it had explained his cautious, slightly-too-tight hold on you always, but the optimistic part of you had always tried to encourage him to trust the safeguards he put in place for you. You'd convinced him that you were strong, and that you were careful, and you'd be fine. Once he'd promised you and himself that he could protect you, always, you'd both breathed out in relief.

Things would be fine, you told yourselves.

This, however - this, you hadn't been quite prepared for. Getting lifted on your way back from your job, drugged and thrown in the back of an unmarked vehicle, and waking up bound and gagged staring into masked faces with unconcealed, greedy smiles, had never been part of your life's plan.

He'd promised to protect you.

Where was he now?

Every bone in your body felt splintered, and every muscle in your body sore. It's still hard to breathe, and it is a miracle that you can still move. Your assailants, whoever they were, had said they were just “sending a message”, which is presumably why they’d let you live. Once they had finished torturing you, they’d tossed you in the back of an alleyway like Saturday’s trash. You dragged yourself home, monitoring the bruises that bloomed darkly on your face for anything suspicious enough to suggest head trauma. Anything short of those signs and you wouldn’t go to the hospital. There was nothing you’d be able to explain to the doctors anyway and the idea of being proven wrong felt too much to bear. Plus you're too afraid to leave your house anyway.

All you can think about is the strength of the deadbolt on your door, and whether the door is even locked or not, but you feel too drained of energy to get up and check it for the fifth time today. It was an incredible thing to be so weak and yet so emotionally activated. You wonder if this was what it was like to be prey, finally terminally exhausted by your predator’s chase and laying down to accept death.

A tear, maybe a couple, maybe several, escape your eyes before you finally drift off to sleep.

---

The next morning, you wake up encased in warm, strong arms. Your body kicks into sympathetic overdrive and you shriek, kicking and screaming as the embrace only grows tighter.

“___, it’s me! Babe, calm down, listen...  Breathe, baby..." He calls your name again, whispering it softly. "It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Izuku's voice despite attempting to be soothing is as alarmed as you are as he pleads for you to calm down. Once you stop fighting him and start crying softly instead, he nuzzles his chin into your neck, whispering kind, reassuring statements in your ear in between gentle kisses.

“I’m here… I’m here… I’m sorry, but I’m here now, babe. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” He repeats over and over again. You are still sobbing uncontrollably, but now you have shifted, and your hands cling to the fabric of his shirt. His scent is familiar and safe, and you're at home as you cry into his chest. You don't think of the fact that he's back in Tokyo earlier than he should be or wonder how he has entered your home as much as you had deadbolted the door and barricaded it with all your furniture. You can’t exactly describe how you feel; it isn't relief or reassurance that he brings, but a validation of what you had been through.

You don’t remember how long you stay in his embrace like this, but it feels like forever. 

Izuku doesn't ask immediately who hurt you. Instead, once you’d stabilized enough for him to release you, he finds a comforter to wrap around your body, quickly passing his eyes over the length of it, taking in the extent of your injuries. This time, the pressure wasn’t too much for you. You sit still, your body numb, staring into nothingness. He disappears for a moment, and when he returns, he's carrying a bowl of soup which he feeds you wordlessly. You don't look at him as you open your mouth every so slightly.

It's too quiet in your apartment. Your mind races but with no thoughts.

Izuku sets down the spoon once you stop accepting it. 

“___."

Your eyes focus in his direction. The worry is gone from his face, and now a chilling calm has taken its place.

"Do you remember what they looked like?"

His voice has the type of evenness to it that seems contradictorily off-kilter.

You don’t respond. He doesn't press you. Instead, he spends the rest of the day with you, watching you carefully. Every time he sees you wince as you move, you can see his fists clench and unclench.

There's somewhere he has to be, you think. Then you say it out loud.

"Izuku, you don't have to watch me like a hawk. I'm fine. I've been fine for the past few days."

You're lying and you can tell he's upset that you are from the look on his face. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, and a muscle in his jaw tense.

"You don't look fine," he mutters. "Why didn't you go to a hospital?"

"Didn't want to."

The answer is couldn't.

He gives you a long look, but he doesn't press it.

----

Once night has fallen, he has had enough of seeing you suffer. A few phone calls are made in hushed tones on the balcony. You try not to listen in, but he's talking to the police department, then other heroes. Gathering information. Someone says something that causes him to snort from his nostrils, but then you can feel it, the little static in the air that betrays the use of his Quirk, small electrical discharges flowing from his fingertips.

Izuku returns from the balcony and slides the glass door. You look at him and blink, wondering if he'll tell you anything. He smiles at you, but it looks somewhat pained.

“I’ll be back.” He reassures, kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll right this.”

Your eyes widen. You don't want Izuku to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to form the words to tell him to stay.

Or even to ask 'how'?

Despite the fact that he leaves, you finally fall asleep, exhaustion overcoming you faster now that you've had even a second of relief from stress. You're not exactly sure how long he's gone this time, but you bolt awake when you hear the doorknob turn yet again, your heart thumping hard in your chest.

The first thing you note is the thick, unmistakable coppery smell of blood permeating the room, enough that your stomach turns.

You can't see Izuku well enough in the dark aside from his green eyes that glow ever so slightly, and the ever-persisting static from his twitching fingertips, barely perceptible.

"Izuku?" you ask. He looks almost forlornly at you, then disappears into the shower.

He's in there for nearly an hour.

Once Izuku steps out, once he's done washing himself free of dirt and grime and blood and whatever else, he curls up next to you, anchoring his arm against your waist. You are facing away from him, and your heart still beats terribly fast in your chest, and you can't bring yourself to tell him how much him touching you makes the pain in your chest worse.

Clothing soaked in red rests on your bathroom tile. Your love will never be squeaky clean again, no matter how wholesome his image is.

He doesn't have to tell you what he did, but you know.

“I love you, ___. I’ll never let someone hurt you again.”

You nod understanding, but you wish you didn't know.

[star2fishmeg]

I HAVE ARRIVED BWAHAHAHA I request a fic with Shibaman, please~ Picture it - the reader is walking down the street in the rain, trying to find the Sannoh diner where her childhood friend is waiting but she gets lost and ends up at Oya. She's a decent fighter, but she is quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of Oya students. And who comes to her rescue? Why, Shibaman and Tsuji, of course! Not that she would ever admit needing to be rescued!

The second time she gets lost and ends up at Oya, it wasn't an accident. She just wanted to see Shibaman again! <3 You can change whatever you like, just wanted to give you something to get your mind going. Thank you for opening requests, ily <3

ʀᴀɪɴ

Pairing: Shibaman x afab!reader

Summary: did y/n really get lost? Or did she just want to see him again in hope everything went according to plan? Not that Shibaman complained, he benefitted greatly from the situation

Warnings: fluff, swearing, suggestive (making out but that’s it), Shibaman has reddish hair (from worst x cross) and Tsuji has rainbow hair (from the worst), half-naked Shibaman

Authors note: this one’s for grandma, and a reward for dealing w me n kel *mic drop*

Request: above!

Y/n hugged herself tighter as she stepped into yet another large puddle that was deeper than expected, not that her socks were dry in the first place. Hair stuck to her face and her clothes soaked through, the rain hammered onto the concrete and clashed against the metal bins on the street. She didn’t even recognise the street she was in anymore let alone trying to find the diner in Sannoh she was supposed to meet her friend at an hour ago, but with the heavens opening so suddenly it was difficult to concentrate on which train stop was hers. And she was left fighting the weather alone, trekking through the dingy streets and deep grey skies with her only form of protection being a hoodie. Upon seeing the various buildings either closed or boarded up, she swore under her breath and concluded that she wasn’t in Sannoh anymore.

Thirty painful minutes trudged by, and the infamous high schools thrashed up gates appeared through the rain, and y/n wasn’t entirely sure if she was relieved or disappointed at where she was. Oya wasn’t known for its amazing hospitality (if they had any at all), but if it meant sheltering from the rain until it died down then so be it.

She jogged through the gates and remained under an overhang out the front, not daring to go inside the building at all, she was only there for shelter anyway. Various yells and crashing came from further inside and that was a solid sign to stay out or be bombarded with questions she did not feel like answering when cold and soaked. Her eyes fixated on the rain, specifically how the ripples in the puddles distorted her face.

“The fuck’re you doing here?” A rather gruff voice called out from behind her, followed by a crowd of men circling her. Now, Oya did not usually try to intimidate women, but recently the had a rising trend in spies from other gangs wanting inside information, so they had every right to be suspicious.

“Literally just sheltering until the rain dies down, then I’m off.” Y/n sniffed, wiping water dripping down her nose. A few of the men gave each other side-eyes before their supposed leader towered over her. She stayed nonchalant, glaring the dude in the eye, considering the bruise on his cheek and the fact his hands were in his pockets; clear kick to the groin and right hook if need be.

“Well, you’re quite pretty. We’ve had a lot of issues with spies around here, convince us you should stay.” His eyes raked her figure up and down, lips tugging into a smirk and puffing his chest out. Y/n stood still, adjusting her feet into a stable position, and clenching her right fist quietly. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d ended up in this type of situation, cocky men thinking that just because she’s a woman means she’s a damsel in distress. Although, she’d preferred to be fighting in a better mood and on dry concrete and when her hands were not numb.

“Yeah yeah, scram vermin, she’s cool.” His deep voice rumbled through the hallway, black varsity jacket with patches of American NFL peeking through the gloom until fully on show. Shibaman and Tsuji casually strolled towards the crowd, making their boots hit the concrete just that bit harder to break up the boys. The group groaned and scattered like flies, y/n’s shoulders relaxing and a sigh of relief heaving from her lungs.

“Every time I see you two your hair changes.” She chuckled, watching the boys lean against the wall.

“Guess it’s fate that we keep bumping into each other, huh?” Shibaman jested, his features softening, a rare sight to see but if you were lucky enough, he’d lower his walls. Tsuji scoffed and rolled his eyes; he knew she was referencing his braids phases and the fact she favoured his rainbow hair.

“What are you doing here, though? You in trouble?” Tsuji asked, adjusting his sunglasses on his head.

Y/n shook her head, taking a quick glance at the weather behind her, “Only with the rain, but it seems to have died down, so I’ll probably start heading home,” she turned back, pulling her hoodie sleeves over her hands, “Got lost and ended up here.” The duo guffawed, shaking their heads. Tsuji turned to leave, waiting for Shiba, who shimmied his jacket off his shoulders.

“I can see you shivering.” he placed it over her, watching her arms slide through and letting the oversized piece of clothing hang off her figure, eyes hopping to her lips while she looked back at him with doe eyes, finding her vision skating to notice his chapped lips. The thirty seconds in close proximity had them frozen in a time where it was just them two together, and nothing else mattered but their heartbeats in sync. Tsuji cleared his throat, dragging the two back to reality and ultimately ruining another moment. In the years they’d known each other, Tsuji had to painfully watch their awkward pining and if neither were making a move, he found amusement in ruining it until they did. Y/n just smiled softly at Shiba; eyes skittish as if she didn’t really know where to look aside from his eyes…lips…the vein in his neck…the structure of his cheeks. His course hands almost instantly warmed her cold cheeks when he cupped them gently, the same chapped lips she gushed over placing a lingering kiss to her forehead. Stomach flipping and butterflies once again whirling in her stomach, her face felt hot, and when he pulled away with a smile, she could barely mutter a sentence as he turned and walked back into the school building.

--

The second time y/n found herself walking to Oya was relatively late at night, she was prepared with an umbrella, donning Shibaman’s jacket from earlier that week. She had meant to return it earlier but with work and school getting in the way, she couldn’t find the time or energy. But Friday opened an opportunity, and she made the journey, in the rain but more prepared. She was not lost this time, and neither was she cold and so the smile that spread across her cheeks felt more pleasant than before, plus, she was seeing Shibaman again, her kryptonite.

Shaking her umbrella in the entrance way, her shoes squeaked as she attempted to navigate her way to the announcement room where Shiba and Tsuji had mention before (although their description was below helpful). The building was strangely quiet, no chairs being launched, no rowdy laughter, no…men around. Worry crept to her head, unsure if she had taken the right turn until she saw Shibaman’s head through the cracked window of the announcement room. A smile graced her lips, a bounce in her step as poked her head through the doorway. Expecting to see the duo, a burst of giddiness shot through her upon seeing just Shiba slouched back on a scratched-up chair, head thrown back, manspreading and skin doused in bruises and dirt, the occasional cut here and there but nothing that looked serious. She bit her lip, the way that neck vein bulging and his adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped, his lap practically inviting her in for a seat.

“Just you tonight?” she jested, perching on the end of a table. Shibaman sighed deeply, leaning forward.

“Looks like it. Tsuji went home and the rest of the boys left too. Just got back from a fight…if that wasn’t obvious.” He chuckled at the last part, eyes meeting hers. His heart skipped a couple beats seeing her in his jacket again, the memory of earlier that week where he almost kissed her before she left replaying over and over. He wanted to kiss her, and if Tsuji hadn’t been there, he would’ve. He’d been wanting to kiss her years back.

“M'kinda glad they’re not here. Been wanting to catch you alone for a while,” Shiba rained his eyebrows, eye contact becoming intoxicating, “Maybe not this late but, I’m happy I found you still here.”

He broke into a rare smile, shaking his head lightly before standing up and stepping closer to her. She stood up straight, his figure towering over her, almost chest to chest.

“Was waiting for you,” his voice low and raspy, barely above a mumble, “It’s late, let’s go home.”

--

Home. Home home home. His home was now her home and vice versa. The apartment wasn’t as bad as the one he grew up in, it was a lot nicer, and his family had worked hard to get it. She remembered the day he told her about it, she’d never seen him so happy to have a room he could sleep in and not listen to violence echoing outside. He stopped letting y/n back into Hope Hill after a while, and she happily hosted him when things got bad. But now he and his family were happy and safe.

Leaving their shoes and umbrella at the entrance way, they B-lined for his room in almost silence to avoid waking up his sister, who’s room was opposite, a bathroom in-between. Discarding his jacket, y/n threw herself onto his bed, and could quite happily just pass out then and there while Shibaman slipped into his bathroom. With a sigh, y/n rummaged through his drawers for one of his older t-shirts.

Meanwhile Shiba let the hot water rinse the dirt out his hair and skin, facing the showerhead with closed eyes and a thundering chest. It wasn’t the first time y/n stayed over, but as they got older sleepovers felt different and made his stomach flip whenever she laid next to him. Her scent lingered on his sheets every time and he’d never admit that he’d spent those few days with his face stuffed into his sheets, inhaling the remnants, and letting his mind enter filthy places. Eventually calming himself down, he turned the water off, drying himself and his hair as best as possible and pulling clean boxers over his body. With the brief moment he caught his own eye in the mirror, he knew he looked hot.

He thought he’d shaken his sinful thoughts off until he re-entered his almost dark room to find y/n, sitting on his bed, in his t-shirt and her panties. Closing the door gently behind him, he watched her eyes rake his torso, her mouth becoming dry, and a leering expression plastered on her face. Eyes locked onto each other’s devouring gaze, he slid under the sheets next to her, licking his lips and laying down. They faced each other with soft smiles.

“Did you really get lost the other day, or did you just want to see me?” his throaty voice felt as if it was vibrating through her ears.

“Was it obvious how infatuated I am? It feels empty without you.” Her giggles were music to his ears, if he could have a mixtape of her voice, he’d never stop listening to it. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t get the right words out, his stomach fluttered again, and nausea flushed through him.

“Fuck it-“ Hovering over her figure, he connected their lips slowly, a languid kiss where he trapped her onto the mattress and her hands held onto his biceps gently, kissing back. And they would’ve stayed like that if they didn’t have to breathe but giving each other a yearning gaze of long-awaited confessions, they dove back in, deeply breathing through their noses. Y/n’s fingers slid to his nape, tangling in his blush-red hair while tongue met each other halfway, lapping and attempting to suppress moans. Vulgar sounds of wet lips and saliva bouncing off the walls as hands roamed the curves of bodies until they had to pull away, gazes boring.

Lips tugging into smiles and low giggles, Shiba’s arm wrapped around her waist as he rolled onto his back, pulling her into his broad chest and placing a peck on her forehead. Tsuji would be so proud and relieved that years of unresolved feelings were finally resolved but his next challenge would be third wheeling. Not that Shiba or y/n cared, it was payback for being a cock block.

H&L harem (if you wanna be tagged/removed in future H&L content, comment or lemme know via ‘chat to me bbygorl’ :D);

@straysugzhpe @airbendertendou @strxwberrychocolate @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @rinwhore @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @rainisawriter @cheshirecatuniverse

[Masterlist]

[Requests OPEN]

2023 © STAR2FISHMEG All rights reserved - do not plagiarise, translate, repost, copy any of my works. If you notice that any of these have been done to my work, please let me know.

[midgardian-witch]

Punishment

Miguel has been an ass lately. Luckily Reader knows what to do to get him to behave.

AO3

tags: established relationship | D/s dynamics | sub!Miguel | Dom!Reader | gn!Reader | bondage | masturbation

ships: Miguel O'Hara/Reader

AN: I have now cross-published this on my AO3 account too and added the link to it here 💙

Miguel has been such an asshole lately. 

Watching over the Multiverse was hard work and of course it was stressful. That doesn't mean he just gets to take it out on you or any of the Spider-People currently residing at the Head Quarters.

He knew he fucked up when you brought the chains, cuffs and gag. Luckily Miguel was reasonable (sometimes) and didn't fight you too much. You had him undress and then proceeded to tie him up in a kneeling position, his sharp teeth wrapped around the metal bit gag fastened around his head. Then you left him, naked, bound and alone in the darkness of your bedroom so he could think about his recent behavior.

That had been hours ago. 

Of course you didn’t leave him completely alone. With the help of Lyla you had your eyes on him constantly - just in case. 

He had been perfectly still for the first few hours but now he started to grow agitated, shifting on his knees, aggressively chewing on the metal bit in his mouth. 

It was time to grace Miguel with your presence again. 

As you open the door all you can hear is frantic panting and the sound of metal straining under Miguel's superhuman strength. You're not worried about any of the gear you had used on him breaking - Miguel had designed it himself after all. 

You push the door open further, the light of the hallway illuminating the source of those noises. The sight in front of you nearly took your breath away. 

Miguel O'Hara on his knees, arms tied behind his back, desperately trying to find any friction for his painfully erect cock, the tip an angry red color as a steady stream of precum trickled down his shaft onto the floor below. As you look up you see his chest glistening with sweat and saliva as he is drooling around the bit in his mouth. He squints as the sudden light hits his face, sweat-soaked hair clinging to his forehead. 

Miguel is a sight to behold.

"Have you learned your lesson yet? Or do I need to keep you here for a few more hours?"

At the sound of your voice his head snaps up and Miguel lets out the most pathetic whimper you have ever heard. Frantically he nods his head, anything he tries to tell you is muffled and distorted by the gag. 

You tell Lyla to turn on the lights and close the door. As you step into the room his eyes follow you as he's adjusting to the brightness. You stop right in front of him and look down, admiring your handiwork from up close. Miguel strains his neck, his head fully tilted upwards to look at you pleadingly. 

You reach out towards him and as soon as your hand makes contact with his cheek he is nuzzling into it like a touch-starved puppy, whining and whimpering for his owner that left him alone for so long. His red eyes never leave your face, begging for you to free him. And you would once he has learned his lesson. 

You lean down, skilled fingers loosening the strap holding the bit in place and then taking it off completely. Once you've removed the gag safely you are flooded by a cacophony of half-formed sentences spilling out of him like a broken faucet. You try to calm him down, hushed whispers followed by gentle touches; one hand pushing the wet hair out of his face, the other returning to his cheek. 

"Thank you! Thank you! I-I'll be good. I'll be so good. Thank you for punishing me, amor," he mumbles against your hand as he resumes nuzzling into it, his voice rough from disuse. 

Miguel like this was a rare sight. For you to be able to experience it, for him to let you see him like this, to let you do this to him, is such an honor. And such a turn on. But you could take care of that last part later. This isn't about you, it's about Miguel. 

"You're welcome. And you'll really be good this time? No snapping at me or any of the innocent Spiders working with you?" 

He shakes his head, his cheek still pressed into the palm of your hand. 

"No, I'll be good. I promise. I'll be so good for you."

You can't help but smile. Miguel doesn't want to be mean. But only like this was it easy for him to admit just how badly he wanted to be good. 

"Good boy. That's all I wanted to hear, Miguel."

You remove your hands and he whines at the loss. Quickly you get your hands on the metal chains and cuffs you had affixed to his hands and feet. You tell him to stay still and keep his position and only when he affirms that he understood your order do you remove any parts that hold him down. 

After you put away the bondage gear you return to your place in front of Miguel. He is still kneeling obediently, his red eyes following your every movement. You pull yourself to your full height, looking down on him. 

"Since you've learned your lesson I've decided to let you do something about this," you say with a haughty smile as you point to his weeping erection. Miguel's whole body shudders in anticipation, a grateful whimper escaping his lips. 

You place your hands on your hips, watching as Miguel still makes no move to relieve himself. With a raised eyebrow you tease: "Do you need me to spell it out for you? Go on! Get yourself off."

You swear you see him blush at your meaner tone. Quickly he wraps a hand around his thick cock and starts stroking, the inhuman amount of precum he had spilled previously working as lubricant. Just by the desperate groans and brutal speed of his hand alone do you know that Miguel won't last long. Poor man. Maybe you should have given him at least something to take the edge off for the time spent alone. You keep that in mind to discuss with him later. 

He shudders, his head tipped back in pleasure as he starts to fuck his own hand, his grip tight, almost too tight, around his length. With a few snaps of his hips a growl rips out of his lungs as he comes, his seed spilling over his hand and a few splatters painting his abdomen. 

He is shaking, desperately forcing heavy lungfuls of air into his body. Once his breathing has calmed down he looks at you through hooded eyes and mumbles a slurred thank you. 

Your smile is radiant as you bow down to kiss the crown of his head. "Thank you. You've been very good. Now let me take care of you."

[missamyrisa2]

Taming Alex~

(this is a little differently toned than my usual stuff butttt I was just sooo inspired by my lovelyyyy friend K todayyy~<33)

Alex growled into the dark surrounding the frame to which his bent over wriggling naked body was affixed. "You don't scare me!" The glow of the overhead lights strategically blinded him to everything outside of the circle. His toes pressed to the cold floor, trying to find any sort of traction. "Hnnnngghh!! You're gonna regret this! I'm gonna wreck this place and you too!" With all his strength he angled his feet and pushed. Though his hair flew forward wildly, the padded frame wouldn't budge an inch. "It's okay to be scared of this beauty this beautiful strength this hammerrrrr!!" Thinking he was making headway, Alex bared his overconfidence and grunted deeply summoning all the strength to his biceps. The kick was a longshot but he was certain his arms were lock, that was where he trained the most, where he sensed the least restraint on the frame.

And yet~ the manacles on his wrists barely moved. His arms had been locked in such a way that all his strength accounted for nothing. "Eff...." He murmured, acknowledging for the first time he might be in trouble. Just as he looked up from his bent over position and realized his silver gray briefs hung tauntingly on a hook above, the sensations started~ "Wh~ what the fuck was thatt?!" He scowled and snarled out, legs trembling and exposed tush clenching. Again the gentle wispy touch breezed across his legs, from the back of his left thigh down to behind his right knee. Alex shook the frame, stifling a particular sound in his throat with a grunting grasp. "Stop it!! Stop that right now! You're dead you hear me!" The puffy soft sensation moved upward and began brushing back and forth up his quivering back thighs, as if saying oh yeahh? to his words. His prince part, poking out and gently padded on all sides through a hole in the frame responded with a little bounce.

The touch drifted down and lingered behind his knees, teasing incessantly, waiting out Alex's defiance. "Get off that!! You're just embarrassing yourself! I'm gonna break this fucking thing and burn up whatever the hell that is! GHhahaharghhh!!" Growling squeaks escaped his quickly panicking face. He tried to fight the sensation of his blushing cheeks and neck, feeling the hot bloom of humiliation as he was made to make such silly noises. The teasing touch moved up again and split, gliding along the circles of his bouncing tight tush. Alex tried in vain to bounce it away, pushing back and pulling forward, trying every bit of movement he was afforded in this highly exposed position. "Don't touch my aaaahhhssss!! That's my assssettt! This all you got? You got nothing! This is cake! You're a cake face haha!"

And just as more sounds began, his eyes focused on a figure in the shadows. Maybe his eyes were adjusting, maybe they had moved closer while he spat out his retorts. He could dimly make out the feminine curve of their figure, an animal print pattern in the shadows. "A girl." His lips curved into a smile, though very visibly forced as he tried to bolster his confidence. "You're just a silly girl aren't you. Went and caught yourself a beast! You're enamored by my body huh? Well don't worry sugartop, just let me down and we'll figure this out. I won't even hold it against you. I know you like what you see." He tried his charm, nodding below to the semi-hardon he'd been sporting since he caught a glimpse of her figure.

The deafening silence made the tough guy feel a lot less tough. Her face was obscured both by the intentional shadow and what appeared to be an elegant mask. But he could swear by her body language, a hand resting on her thick waist belt, she was smirking in his face. "Just... okay. Look, you're in over your head. It happens to the best of us. This capturing um, torturing thing? It's not your bag. Look, I've been here for what a half hour? You've got nothing from me. Me, I would have you singing like a bird. You look like a pretty thing so let me show you how it works."

Gaining no momentum with his new angle, Alex tried his strength again. He tried it more as a sound broke the otherwise silent room. "Whatt! What the fuck is thatttt!" He struggled, trying to look behind as the sound of machinery started up with a whine, and an approaching hum. His leg muscles flex and fought, trying to pull away as the sound grew closer. The shadowed feminine figure in front watched intently. "Nooo. No!! No oh please no!" Alex snarled in frantic hysterics, hearing a second sound start, the unmistakable buzz of ~ vibration~

"Don't come any closer! Keeep it away! Oh my god not thatttt!" His plight and pleading going unheeded by the merciless machinery and its equally unwavering operator. The swishy soft sensations returned at his tush, taunting his wiggling rear as the buzzing nubbin drew closer and closer. "Fuuuuckk youuu! I'm nottt gonna unnnhhhh!!" Alex lost his growling protest as the shiny oiled up vibrating toy nestled itself between his protesting tush cheeks and kept going on its mission for his honeyspot. The snarls interspersed with squeaks from the soft touches were met with reluctant moans.

The frame shook as his body was wracked with sensation. The girlish figure in the shadows didn't budge. "Turn it offff!! I'm gonna kill you you biiiiitch! Plehehaunnnhhh pleauuuhehe pleauaseee no more!" The vibrating tool buzzed in, carefully touching on his hidden button making him thrash and moan out trying to clench and fight the sensation. That slightly swollen prince part had become a raging throbbing king very quickly. He could tell this was what she wanted. Her figure wavered slightly in excitement. Now he could see she was holding a remote. "Don't push itttt!! Pleeeasee don't I'm begging you!"

She deliberately moved with slowness, showing a scrunching finger as it carefully moved down towards a button. "Just just justttt okayyy! I'll tell you anything just please dontttt unnghhhhh fuckk youuu!! nnnhh unnhhhh ghhhahahahddd!" His pivoting from begging to protests melted to a submission of whimpers when she pressed the button and the toy began sliding in and out of his tush, pausing occasionally and going right back in to mercilessly vibrate his hidden honeyspot~ and all the while the puffy sensations ~ care of pink tools which he couldn't see but certainly suspected were such a color ~ twirled and glided along his trembling thighs and kneepits and booty~

Just as the toy started spinning and humming at a high speed on his button, and his prince part throbbed madly right at the brink of release ~ the machines leveled off, the vibrations stopped and the toy retracted with a clunk. The swishy sensations barely moved, just wisping on his overloaded skin. "Unnnhhh~!! Noo noooo don't leave meee like thissss! That's unnnhhhhh~~" He whined and carried on, hands grasping at the air for attention. She watched on silently as his royal rod tingled and ached and begged for more in its little soft cradle. He tried to thrust, tried bouncing, tried everything to get back to the edge. "FFF come onnnnnnn~!!" But it was no use. He was gradually gliding off and being led backwards~ and sealing the sensation was the sudden feeling of hands goosing his rear playfully.

"UNNGHHHFffFf NHHH unnhhhghhh!" The sounds of frustration grew, and gave way to a pure wantingness which he couldn't deny. Her beautiful form right there, the machine which had been stimulating him. He wanted that attention. He was so agitated and worked up. But he wanted it, wanted it so badly. "Just make me cum pleaseeee!" He finally begged out.

"Bad boys don't get to cum~"

she finally responded, her voice both irritating him for its content but alluring his body with that matter of fact tone. He thrashed and screamed out as she mashed a button in front of his face, sending the vibrating tool full speed back to his honeyspot, that most hidden sensation he kept secret. His pleading begs were mostly nonsense through his rush of gasping whimpering moans. The teasing tools twirled and spun and taunted his backside, following every motion to keep his moans interrupted with squeaking giggles. She held the remote right by his screwed up face, showing as she'd raise and lower the vibrating intensity and speed, keeping him guessing, keeping him completely at her whim.

Another edge down, he pulled weakly at his bonds, toes curled and skin pink from overstimulation. His prince part ached and throbbed once more, pushed right to the brink and left to suffer the tingles. "PleeFFFFFFFAA" he barely got a beg out before she hit the button again sending the vibrator back in for a moment just to make him scream. "I juuaHAHA!" and again sending the puffy tools to tease at his inner thighs for a tickle when he tried to form words again.

After more rounds of the edging teasing treatment, he was lost for words, merely whimpering a mewling sound as she stood in her position remote in hand. She set her remote aside and picked up a feather taking it to his royal part, still throbbing from the last edge. The melted begging pleading was nothing but squeaks and weak moaning gasps as she tormented his swollen rod with that mean feather, carefully tickling under the tip mercilessly~

It felt like an eternity, her teasing torment on his part. He could only lay there and take everything she gave. And he couldn't help but wannnnnt everything too~ dimly aware he'd been moved, Alex glanced up in the dark room, the surface beneath him soft and silky. He sensed her nearness, and began mewling for her desperately. She nudged his upper body back and pinned his leg. He weakly fought, trying to get away, trying to push her off. Her hands moved his back and that was the end of it. With a needy sound, his back arched as he began slowly stroking his manhood ~ and once again working him to the edge before leveling off. He dizzily tried to rise up and was pushed back down, tried to reach for his aching part and was blocked. He could only lay as she watched him tingle ~ before starting her teasing bullying again~

[its-my-whump]

Whumpril 2024 - Day 8

Bloodshot

@whumpril

Tw: language!, vomit, helplessness, implied beating, anger

The door bell rang for the 4th time. "Bloody hell." Caretaker mumbled to himself, paddling the blanket away and crawled out of his bed. The room was chilly and a quick look, showed a blurry 2:48 am on his alarm clock. He brushed a hand through his own hair and over his sleepy face to get his bearings, while coming up to his legs.

Shuffling towards the front door it rang again. "Yeah, coming." He half loud mumbled again, naked feet left prints on the cold floor making a path to the door.

His hand grapped for the door handle. The moment he pulled and some weight started to press onto the doorleaf from the outside, the thought jumped in, that at this time of night, it could easily be some buglars.

Surprised by the weight on the door, he had to hold it strongly, so it wouldn't push him away.

A step to the side. No burglars! His hand automatically let go of the handle and he stepped forward to catch the limp body.

The door flew open, his own body was almost pulled down, when he took a hold of the dead weight now in his arms. "Johnny? Fuck!"

He grapped his friend under his limp arms and pulled him completely inside the appartement. An elbow against the lightswitch and a hard kick to the open door. It fell shut with a bang, at 2:49 am in the morning.

Caretaker pulled Johnny to the couch and laid him down on the cushions. Getting to his hunches, a few light slaps to the pale cheek. "Ey, Johnny. Can you open your eyes for me, man?"

Half a minute passed, some more light flaps and the limp form stired on the couch. Eyelids fluttered open, it looked exhausting, just watching the attempt. His eyes bloodshot, some veins dark red in glazy white, his iris too small for the semi dark room. His left eye already swelling shut.

"The fuck, man! What happened?"

Some undeceiferable movement in his ghostly white face. Dry lips weakly parted, to reveal bloody teeth. "T..th...they got m..." His jaw visibly clenched. Caretaker, yet shocked by the forming bruise on his left side of his face, but still quickly thinking on his feet, grapped for the bowl of some rubbish from the coffeetable and emptied it.

Johnny was already retching and weakly leaning towards the edge of the sofa. The bowl went under his face and Caretaker turned away. More out of respect as of disgusted. He studied Johnny shaking body from his kneeling position.

His friends short hair was sweaty, spiking in all directions. Only now Caretaker saw the blood on the back of Johnnys head. Sweat was glistening on his pale, almost translucent face. A stream of blood had painted a red line down into the back of his collar. He was shivering all of a sudden and Caretakers hand took a hold of his shoulder. Johnny flinched, wiggled in pain and a moan slipped out. Caretaker pulled carefully on the collar of his friends shirt and took a glimpse of the purple bruise, that was creeping up his back.

Johnnys fingers were digging into the couch, knuckles white from strain, but bloody from fighting back.

"Fuck!" Caretaker exhaled, then he got angry. "I'm gonna kill these cowards."

My masterlist

[skyfullofcelestia]

Two People, One bed

Story: The problem is simple. You are on a mission in a huge city in the middle of the national holiday and the hotel where you are staying, managed to mix up your reservation. You have two options. Sleep on the street or share one bed.

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, Gepard

Notes: Pre-relationship, suggestiveness

Blade

After causing a huge scene at the reception, Blade finally arrived in your room.

“What do you think you are doing?” Blade gazed at you when he found you sitting on the bed.

“I am tired, I am not going to fight with you.” You sighed.

“Right choice. You would never win.” Blade smirked and disappeared into the bathroom.

After minutes, that felt like an eternity, he finally vacated the shower so you could clean yourself after a long and tiring day. 

All fresh you came to the room and found Blade spread on the bed naked, lower body covered only with a thin blanket. He left nothing for imagination.

“Can you move a little?” 

“Say the magic word.” Blade looked at you with eyes half closed.

“Pretty please?” You smiled at him with the fakest smile you could.

“No.” Blade smiled back at you and positioned himself in the middle of the bed with hands crossed behind his head. 

At that point, you were done with him. Without any warning, you started pushing him off the bed. Blade half asleep jumped up and pushed you back so hard that you almost fell on the floor. But he could not help himself and caught you at the last second, saving you from the painful fall.

“You are the craziest woman I have ever met! Do you want to die?!”

“All I want to do is to sleep. You are the one causing scenes.”

“You know what? Just shut up and lay down.” Blade turned his back to you and turned the lights off.

You laid down all happy that your tired body can finally relax when reality suddenly hits you. You just saw your work partner completely naked and you did not know what to do with that image in your head. You tried desperately to wipe it from your memory, but it was impossible. 

“Blade?” You whispered into the darkness.

No answer.

“Blade?” You tried again. “Are you still naked?” You smiled.

Still no answer. You reached for him where you thought his lower body would be but a big hand grabbed you.

“Did you just touch me?” 

“No, not yet.” You giggled.

“You want to fuck me?” 

“Are you crazy?! I am just messing with your annoying ass!”

You tried to pull away from him, but Blade´s grip around your wrist tightened as he growled.

“Stop playing games, because if I…”

“Good night.” You stopped him immediately.

Blade let your hand go and laid on his side with the back turned to you. A long hour passed when you finally felt the sleep taking you away. 

“Do it again.” A raspy voice said.

“Do what?” You said almost gone in the dreams.

“Touch me,” Blade whispered almost silently.

And you obeyed. You hugged him around the waist and he placed his hand on yours. Almost as if he wanted to make sure you won't let go.

When you finally woke up in the morning, his side of the bed was empty and you could not tell if it was just a dream. 

Jing Yuan 

“At least we know where not to go next time.” Jing Yuan looked at the receptionist with a strange mix of disgust and disappointment.

“It is not her fault.” You tried to shield the scared young girl behind the counter.

“Are you sure?” Jing Yuan raised his brow.

“No. But I will deal with it.”

“I do not think so.” He grabbed your bag and left.

“Where are you going?” You ran after him.

“To our room, Miss Polite. What do you think you can do? They are fully booked.”

“I am not sleeping with you.”

Jing Yuan stopped and turned to you.

“I never thought about it, but on second thought…” He smiled lost deep in his mind.

“Hey! Stop it, creep!”

“I am a general, so don't you dare to talk to me this way!”

You took a step back, confused.

“Y/N! I am just joking!” Jing Yuan grabbed your arm and pulled you into the elevator.

The room was pretty spacious, but your eyes stopped on the bed.

“I think it is big enough, don't you think?”

“Yeah.” You said to Jing Yuan next to you, almost twice as big as you. “You will suffocate me under your huge… hair.”

“It is possible.” He laughed. “I do not know about you, but I am going in the shower.”

“No! Let me go first. You always take so long with your endless routine.”

“How do you know?” Jing Yuan smirked.

Without a word, you grabbed your stuff and ran into the shower with a huge blush on your cheeks.

The steady stream of warm water washed away all the embarrassment and uneasiness you felt around your extremely extroverted boss. Until he suddenly appeared right behind you. Completely naked. Your scream filled the whole bathroom.

“You were taking too long.” He smiled like it was a completely normal thing to join you. “And I am pretty sure that we both already saw many naked bodies.”

“I-I-I…” You stuttered, desperately trying to make this situation as normal as possible. “I forgot my shampoo, I need to go and find it.”

“Do not worry about it. You can take mine.” Jing Yuan smiled, standing just a few centimeters from you with his big… bottle of shampoo in his hand.

“Oh.” You looked him in his eyes. “Will it make it so huge… my hair… I mean my hair… Will it make my hair so voluminous like yours?”

Jing Yuan leaned down to your face, letting you feel his warm breath on your skin “You can try.”.

You immediately turned your back to him and washed yourself as quickly as possible while feeling his gaze all over your body. 

You finished dressing into your pajamas when he entered the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Stunned, you stood there in the middle of the room. Without a single worry in the world, he took off the towel and got into his sleeping shorts.

“Can I ask you something?” He turned to you.

“Sure.” 

“Have you ever seen a naked man?”

“Idiot.” You rolled your eyes and left to get your lotion.

“That is ok. Not everyone is comfortable around naked bodies. Especially good girls like you.” He said with a dramatic wink before a decorative pillow hit him right in the face.

“Oh, you want to play?” He laughed and threw the pillow back at you. “You can try.”

Fed up with his constant jokes about your “good girl” personality you jumped on him knocking him down on the bed.

“I can fight you if I want.” 

“Sure you can.” He grinned under you.

“Agh, why are you doing this? Playing with me like I am not here because I deserve my job, but because I am just a random girl in a random position.”

“I respect you and I acknowledge your skills.” Jing Yuan looked deeply into your eyes. “Especially in your cute little ruffled pajama set.”

Before you could get any angrier, he turned with you swiftly and you found yourself pinned under him. With a technique he was not expecting, you escaped him and grabbed a huge pillow. 

“Stop right there!” He laughed.

“Or what?” You smiled and with all of your strength, you hit him with the pillow.

Surprised, he grabbed another pillow and hit you back. Suddenly you found yourself in a pillow fight while jumping on the bed like a couple of teenagers. 

“I need to catch a breath.” You stopped right before Jing Yuan swung the pillow at you so hard, unaware of his strength, that you flew down from the bed and hit the floor.

“Y/N” he shouted and jumped down to you. “I am so sorry! I didn't mean to. Are you hurt?”

“Only my ass and ego will be bruised for days.” You laughed through the pain.

“Let me help you.” 

He picked you up carefully and placed you on the messy bed. After offering you a glass of water, he tucked you under the covers and turned the lights off. By the silhouette of his body, you could tell he was watching you.

“I am really sorry. I did not realize…”

“It is ok. I have been in the worst fights.” You laughed with your ass and spine pulsing with pain.

“If you say so.” He said and laid down. “I am such an idiot.”

“I know, I already told you.” You laughed again only to make him feel better because you could tell how disappointed he was about what he did. “But good thing you did not break any of my bones. Can you imagine all the paperwork?”

“Y/N. You are making it worse.”

“I know. I will shut up.”

“Sleep tight. I am really sorry.”

“I know, good night.”

During the night, you could feel his hand caressing your lower back and you could not help but enjoy it so much that a soft moan left your mouth.

“Is it helping?” He whispered grasply.

“Very much.”

“So I won't stop until it heals.”

You smiled but had to ask. “This is your routine with every female in your team?”

Jing Yuan positioned himself on his elbow and after a moment of silence, whispered into your ear “Only with you.”

Gepard

“I do not know how this could have happened.” Gepard scratched his head. “I will contact…”

“That is ok.” You stopped him. “A mistake happened and it is just for one night.”

“You are right.” Gepard looked at you. “Are you ok with it?”

“To sleep with my partner in one bed?”

“Yes.” Gepard´s cheeks flushed with a light shade of red.

“No, but let us not make a big deal out of it.” You smiled.

After you settled into your room, Gepard left to get some food. While you were in the shower, he unpacked your meal and prepared the cutlery and the drinks on the small round hotel table. 

“Gepard? Can you close your eyes for a second?” You asked as you stepped out of the shower, wrapped only in a hotel towel. “I forgot to take clean clothes from my bag.”

“No problem,” Gepard answered, but could not stop himself from staring at you when you entered the room. “I have never seen you without makeup and a ponytail.”

“Gepard.” You laughed. 

“You are beautiful.” He mumbled.

“What?” You asked as you dug through your bag to finally find your favorite oversized t-shirt that you always sleep in. 

“I have brought us food from a nearby restaurant. Hope you will like it.”

“It smells amazing. You always had exceptional taste in food.” You said as you dressed into the barely wearable t-shirt that you owned for almost a decade.

You were not wrong. Gepard´s meal choice left you speechless and with a belly so full that you could not move. On the other hand, he has not said a word, just stared at you every time he thought you were not looking. You heard him say that he never saw you all prepped up, but did it make such a huge difference? Honestly, he made you a bit uncomfortable. “Am I so ugly without makeup?” A question crossed your mind, but you quickly pushed it away.

“Leave it, I can clean it in the morning.” You tried to stop him when you saw him collecting the paper plates and cups.

“I do not mind.” He smiled. “I know you are tired. Go ahead and choose which side of the bed you want.”

“You are such a gentleman.” You smiled back as you placed your hand on his firm arm trying to get around him to get into the bed. 

Gepard almost spilled his drink when he felt your touch. 

When the table was cleaned and the smell of food aired through opened windows, Gepard finally took a shower. 

“I was thinking,” He said, watching you all comfortable in bed. “I can sleep on the floor. I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You will make me uncomfortable by sleeping on the hard dirty floor while letting me claim this bed soft as a cloud.” You raised your brows. “I do not smell and will not snore into your ear. I promise.” You laughed at your joke, maybe a little too loud.

“Ok.” He smiled all pretty in his baby blue t-shirt and matching shorts carefully joined you in the bed and turned the lights off.

“I hope you will sleep well,” Gepard said. “If something will bother you, if I snore or anything else, just wake me up.”

“Sure. Good night!”

The sleep was peaceful and comfortable until you woke up in the middle of the night to a weird sensation. You found yourself in Gepard´s arms tightly holding you and his head resting on your. You want to pull away, but he won't let you.

“Do not leave,” Gepard mumbled half asleep.

“I won't.” You whispered into his skin.

When you opened your eyes in the morning, Gepard was already wide awake.

“How long are you awake?” You mumbled into the sheets.

“Long. But did not want to wake you.” He smiled at you with a strange softness in his eyes you have never seen before.

[quills-of-freedom]

Pole Position 🏁👯‍♂️

The race to win your attention & affection

Porco Edition 📖

Female Bodied Reader X Porco

I'm going to turn all of these into fics with characters, because well I can and I want to.

Next: Jean (Just for you lovely who requested more Jean <3 )

Upcoming: Reiner, Eren, Levi & any requested.

Based off my headcanons you can read here

CHARACTERS WHO AREN'T PORCO MAY BE OUT OF CHARACTER FOR THIS FIC

Tag list:🐙

@greeniegreengreen @dreamerdeity @XOYOURONLYAMORRXO @koo-detat @5feetofwrath @lilshades @setangel

Also @eddiesbongwater I know you're not on a tag list, but you'll want to read this based on your comment earlier :') <3

Warnings: Erotic dancing. Smut. 18+ only. Alcohol consumption.

My old dancing playlist for the mood 🔥

"ID please."

The gruff-looking bouncer standing out in the warm glow of neon lights looks like he'd had a rough night - his expression not the best pleased nor did it sound like it was going to get any better, as a fight breaks out across the street at another club.

Porco's head swivels to watch the ruckus as his driving licence is being read, three bouncers all diving on the two men who were throwing fists. Seemed a little bit of an overkill - but hey, Porco doesn't know what else they'd seen within the sin that was carved into these streets. Various music from different establishments boomed and pumped, the vibrations travelling through the pavement and into his feet as the bounce nods.

"No trouble. No touching."

Porco enters and waits as his friends get their identification verified. The music coming from the floor upstairs told him that's where all the action was, so he took this time to pull out his phone.

His heart sank a little when he hadn't yet gotten a reply from you; his earlier text enquiring if you were out in town that night.

She's probably asleep. It's 2am after all.

He reasons even if he's slightly intoxicated, shuffling over to the counter to pay for entry once his little posse had gained access.

With a small sigh of defeat, Porco begins to ascend the stairs. He knew the chances of you being out tonight were slim, but he didn't want to take any chances. He made sure he wore his most expensive cologne, his favourite shirt and that his hair was immaculate. Porco got a lot of attention when he was out, but there was only one woman who had stuck the flag of interest into his heart. And his dick.

As the music grew louder with each step, so did his excitement. They did his favourite whisky here and it'll give him a break while his friends go for their dances.

"You gonna get a dance this time, Pock?" Eren sneers, drunkenly putting his arm around his neck.

"Nah, it's not my thing. I'll watch you make a fool of yourself though."

Eren lets out a chuckle. "No different to any other day then, huh Jean?"

"Shut up Eren." Jean rolls his eyes as they climb.

"At least you didn't jizz in your pants like Floch did that time." Connie notes, the group's laughter erupting but then being drowned out as they open the doors and enter the main room.

The group walks up to the bar, being eyed immediately by dancers - it was always better when attractive men came in and boy was this group full of lookers.

"I'll get this one." Porco calls over the music as he flags down the bartender.

Eren turns and leans against the bar his eyes scanning the room that is brimming with gorgeous, half-naked women. "Why couldn't Floch come out, again?"

"He said he had work in the morning." Connie replied, head close to Eren's ear so he could be heard better. "Bullshit me thinks."

"Yeah, probably." Eren nods, catching the eye of a dancer walking by in her kitten heals. "Hey --"

Porco turns around with the tray of drinks to see the group were already at a table with some women. Don't waste any time guys. He thinks, turning back around to the bar tender. "Better add four more shots on here for the ladies."

It wasn't long before Eren, Jean and Connie were gone from the table getting their private dances, leaving Porco alone with his now female escort.

"Sorry, I don't wanna waste your time but I'm not after a dance tonight." He leans into her neck, making himself more audible.

"Oh that's a shame, honey. Isn't there any girl here who takes your fancy?"

"What, do you have a catalogue?" He jokes.

She places her hand on his large arm as she laughs at his dumb joke, professionalism at a high standard.

"Unless you have someone with (your hair colour) and the most beautiful (your eye colour) eyes you've ever seen, then no. Sorry, I don't think there would be."

"I'll see what I can do." She hums, getting to her feet. "Thanks for the drink, sweetie."

Porco nods, bringing his glass to his lips. He's just happy to be alone for a moment, checking his phone once more. Nothing.

"Get a grip." He whispers to himself in annoyance.

His self indulgence didn't last long as Connie comes over, face flushed red and a red lipstick mark on his cheek.

"That was fast." Porco noted.

"Yeah I uh... I was getting a little too wound up."

Porco lets out a laugh, handing Connie a tequila. "Here, that'll help."

"Mention you're military and they go wild." Connie blows out his cheeks, preparing himself for the searing liquid he was about to ingest.

"Hey girl." Your work friend struts over. "There's someone over by the side wall who mentioned he'd like someone who had your hair and eyes. Maybe it's worth going over and see if you can milk him dry - he's being tight with dances."

"Oh?" You frown, curious peering over to the other side of the large, crowded room. Your lips part when you catch a glimpse of Porco in his chair, laughing at Connie who just choked on his shot, spitting it everywhere.

Oh my god.

Reaching inside your purse you check your phone to find three unread texts.

"Hey, we're on leave now a few of us are going out. You out with Mikasa or Sasha tonight?" "We're in Blue bamboo if you are!" "Come ouuuuut."

Your heartrate increases and those beautiful butterflies start fluttering within you. Things have been wonderfully weird with Porco recently, having both been getting closer and spending more alone time away from your friend group.

"How do I look?" You ask, fluffing your hair.

"Gorgeous. Go get him." Your friend smiles as you take a deep breath and begin walking over to your friends in your heals.

Connie is still spluttering when he sees you first. Porco is taking a drink and looking down at his phone when Connie frantically chokes some more, pointing at you and patting Porco's arm.

"What, Nimrod?" Porco laughs, looking at his friend to see if he's still breathing. His gaze follows his pointed finger to you, his jaw slacking.

Error 404 is all that's in his brain as you flash your beautiful smile, taking a seat next to them.

"Hey, sorry I've just now seen your texts." You explain, totally ignoring Connie who is now quietly dying and trying to catch his breath.

"Wh- wha? What are you doing here?" Porco stutters, not knowing how to feel or how to react. An etch of rosy pink was colouring in the bridge of his nose, trying his best to keep his eyes on your head; you were showing a lot of flesh.

"It's great money." You shrug. "Saving for that new car. You know the one I have now is on its way out."

It was true. Only last week you'd called him to pick you up as it had conked out just before the highway. He came to your rescue, gladly.

Without looking at him, Porco starts to give Connie a couple of whacks on his back as he seemed to still be drowning in his alcohol.

"I mean, yeah sure but..."

He doesn't know how to respond. It's not like he has anything against someone working here but... it's you. He doesn't want you around shady people. He's fully aware of the shit some guys give the dancers.

Connie finally catches his breath. Before he can comment, Porco is on his feet and gently pulling you up by your arm.

"What time is your shift over?" He mutters in your ear with a frown.

"Whenever I like."

"Okay, I'm taking you home when you decide to finish up."

"You've been drinking."

"We'll get a cab. There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Hey, y/n!" Connie waves, leaning down to see you past Porco's large form.

"Is it important?" You ask, flickering your gaze to Connie's dumb smile and giving him a little wave.

"It is to me." His frown tugs deeper.

"Then of course." You reply, heart-tugging at how his eyes were pleading at you. "But one last dance... come on, it's on the house."

"Wh-what"

You pull him towards the booths, Connie gawping like an idiot fish out of water.

Porco went along with it after a few moments, thinking you were going to sit him down and prank him or something. There's no way you'd give him a dance. Right?

Right?

You sit him down, closing the curtain over the door way. The music was a little quieter here so it was easier to hear what the other was saying. Or in Porco's case, easier to hear the hammering in his head as you turn to face him in your sexy clothing, your hair done to perfection, flashing him come-to-bed eyes like something from a dirty dream.

Of course, that would explain it. It was just a dream. He'd wake up soon, alone in his apartment.

You begin to sway your hips to the music, Porco gripping the arms of the chair, sinking his fingers pretty deep within the faux leather, his jaw tensing.

A heavier song begins to play and the strobe light begins to flicker, making it look as if you're moving in frames as you throw your hair back to match the new song's rhythm, your back bending elegantly, your long-heeled legs lifting and swinging to the side.

Porco is mentally and physically blown away as he watches your goddess-like form move like liquid smoke to the music, the strobe stopping and suddenly your face was really close to his, your breath blanketing his neck.

"Ah ~" he gasps involuntarily, his chest heaving as you press yourself against him and slide down his body through his splayed legs, giving his shirt a nip with your teeth on the way down.

That pink etch has spread into a full crimson face, trying his damned hardest to tame his stirring beast as you place your head down by his crotch, placing your hand above his groin and sucking your thumb, gorgeous eyes flickering up at his, making it look like you were sucking his fat cock.

The months and years of yearning for you peaked in this moment, his brain unable to rein in control of his now quickly hardening dick, a staggered breath escaping his vocals.

You feel movement under your wrist and forearm as you then stand, turning around and sitting your beautiful ass down on his crotch, grinding your hips up against him, feeling his size as it grows and hardens.

A flush of heat rushes down you knowing Porco was getting hard for your form.

"Sh--it..." He hisses, eyes wide and insane as he watches your movements, hands gluing to your hips.

You stand up and place yourself back near his face. "No touching, Porco. I thought you'd have more self-control...I'm disappointed."

His eyes rapidly search yours, still blown away into the realms of awe.

You reach behind yourself, about to free your perfect breasts, when Porco stops you, leaning forward and putting his face close to yours, his eyes darting from your eyes and lips.

"No... you're coming to my place." He breathes into you, sending heat crashing and rolling over you. "I can't hold back much more..."

"So, how was it?" You both hear a girl exit the booth area as you wrap up your dance.

"Hey, are you uh... you're single right? We should go o-out sometime..." Jean is heard whimpering pathetically, voice breaking as if he were going through awkward puberty all over again.

Your eyes meet with Porco's before you both erupt into laughter.

"Come on, get changed." He orders, getting to his feet.

Porco had waited for you outside in the fresh air as you got dressed and cashed-in.

"So, how much did you make?" He asked as you take his arm, starting your journey to the taxi-rank.

"Well, it's ten for every three minutes in a dance." You explain. "I started at ten, it's now what... 3am? I made 800 in five hours, including tips of course."

"Jesus." A small laugh escapes him. "Are they hiring?"

You laugh at his dumb joke. Not because you were at work, trying to get money from him. But because this is Porco. You cared deeply for him and his dumb little jokes. You were so comfortable around him it was as if you'd known each other all of your lives, when really it'd only been a couple of years.

All it takes is that one special person to pull you from the depths of sin and seduction. Why would you want to seduce others when you have the perfect man waiting for you at home? For money? Each to their own, but you were more than happy to -

Woah. You stop your thoughts. I'm thinking as if we're together. We're not a couple.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" He offers as you step into his apartment, relishing the thick scent of him within the room.

"No, I'm good thanks."

"You'll need one..." he breathes, immediately grabbing the back of your neck and pulling your lips to his. The door had barely closed behind him when he pounced, the sounds of smacking kisses in the air as he pushes your form against the door with his body, pinning you there.

"Porco~!" You gasp in pleasant surprise.

"Your name, I'm crazy about you." He confesses, pulling his head away.

"Is this what you wanted to talk about?"

He nods, eyes lowering back to your lips. "Yeah..."

It takes a second for it all to sink in. You didn't expect him to move so quick.

"D-do you not want... this? M-me?" His voice waivers, devastation awaiting him if you rejected his feelings for you.

You answer him by closing the gap between you, your fingers running through his thick strands. His pleased grunt and furrowed expression enough of a cue to indicate his joy in your answer.

The tip of his nose folds back a little as he kisses you while simultaneously trying to lead you to his bedroom, multi-tasking not being the best skill he has.

He stumbles, tripping over his own feet. A mixture of nerves, excitement and the little bit of alcohol he's had tipped him off balance. With a hiss of annoyance, he scoops you up, bridal style, into his arms, carrying you towards his room.

His cologne pleasantly chokes your senses, your mouth softly kissing his wide, muscular neck as he moves, his eyes now heavy-lidded as he makes haste to his large bed.

Closing the door with his socked foot, he places you down gently on the bed before immediately mounting you, pushing you back with his deep kisses. He laughs softly as his mouth moves to your neck, tickling you slightly and making you giggle. He's just over-joyed you feel the same and he finally gets to have you like this. Sliding your tongue into his mouth, your fingers hastily unbutton his shirt, his solid pecks and abs becoming bare and the sight alone was enough to get you hot and bothered.

His needing hands pawed you wherever they could, hungrily grasping your thighs, your ass, your breasts... anything he could claim, he would touch.

"You're so perfect ~" He sings in whisper, before his teeth nip at your earlobe.

You'd hardly done anything yet and Porco was already a mess at your mercy. His face was flush; his hair sticking at odd and end places, his chest heaving and eyes were already glazed with the predatory gaze of feral lust.

You push his open shirt down over his large arms, his eagerness is apparent as his fingers begin fumbling with his belt to feel free of his constrictions.

You both freeze when the sound of the front door opens with a loud slam; Eren and Jean's laugh loud and booming down the hall.

"Oh shit." Porco spits, hanging his head. "I forgot I said they could crash here tonight."

"It's okay..." You swallow through your heavy breaths, nodding.

"Stay right here..." He instructs softly, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before he goes to leave.

He then stops at the door, hand on the wall with his head bowed.

"Are you oka-" You begin.

"Yeah." His vocals are pulled tight. "Just... pulling myself together."

Just as those words left his lips, the loud sound of someone puking could be heard.

"That'll do it." He fumes, flying out of the door.

"Who's bright idea was it to give Connie half-pint Springer tequila?!" Jean could be heard from within the bathroom.

"...My bad." Porco grimaces as now the sound of the toilet flushing rung out down the hall.

You frantically begin to smooth down your clothes and clear your throat as you hear footsteps padding towards the bedroom, and you knew Porco was helping Jean with Connie.

Eren appeared in the doorway, his head looking down the hall towards the living room, full arm over his eyes.

"Your name, are you decent? You want some pizza?"

"Get out of my room, Eren!"

You stand, laughing and accepting defeat. "Yeah you can look, doofus."

Wrangling three drunken men while sober was a task in itself; Connie placed on the floor with a blanket over him passed out, and turned onto his side; Porco's unused salad bowl near his head - just in case.

Jean and Eren were on the three-seater and you were snuggled up on the loveseat with Porco, a blanket covering you both as you watched TV and ate pizza with your friends. The lights were out and the various flashing colours from the TV encased the five of you snuggly. Your legs were draped over Porco's and his large palm sat on your thigh, his thumb lazily running in circles on your skin.

"How did you know I was here?" You ask Eren.

"Connie told us... right before he -"

"Right before he projectiled across the entire table, and we got kicked out." Jean finished his sentence. "You shoulda seen it, your name. World record for sure."

"Ah, I feel bad now." Porco mutters.

"It woulda happened either way." Jean waved his hand dismissively without looking away from the glow of the TV.

"Speaking of 'woulda's' sounds like you were a little smitten back there with Roxy, huh?" You tease.

Porco gives your leg a squeeze as a laugh emits from his throat.

"What?!" Jean's face glows within the darkness, contrasting against the screen.

Eren chortled; "Happens every time we go in."

Porco took the time to take in the moment after the movie to drink in his current level of happiness. You'd fallen asleep with your head against his still bare chest, your skin warm and soft. Connie was still away in the realms of debauchery, he hadn't moved since he was placed there, his snores gaining in volume told Porco it was time to go to bed. Eren and Jean were now asleep too, Jean's head hanging back off the couch arm and Eren curled up like a puppy at the other end of the sofa.

With a deep sigh, Porco silently cherished his friends and now, his new girlfriend, picking you up with ease making you stir.

"C'mon sleeping beauty." He whispers. "Let's get you to bed."

He takes the long way around the couch, looping by Jean to push his head up with his foot - he'd have the world's stiffest neck in the morning if he just left him that way.

As he got you into bed, his eyes darted over to his digital clock on his bedside. 5:30am

The sun will be coming up soon.

Stripping his trousers down to his underwear, he climbs into bed with you with a deep sigh. Sure he didn't get to fuck you. But he's just so happy you felt the same. His large arms wrap around your form and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"mmm..." You hum sleepily, pressing your ass against his crotch and slowly rubbing yourself against him.

"H-hey, you should sleep." He laughs nervously, any and all effects of alcohol now out of his system.

You reply by simply grabbing his hand and sliding it up your dress onto your bare breast.

He chokes on his own saliva for a moment, taking a short intake of breath before coughing.

"I want you, Porco..." You hum into the pillow before turning to face him, your eyes blinking at him beautifully.

"Yeah?" His eyebrow arches, planting a kiss onto your mouth. "You... want me to make you feel good, huh?"

You nod, his mouth still glued to yours, only removing to speak. His hand glides up your thigh and to your panties, warm hand placing itself onto your covered bloom, his palm now slowly rubbing it with trembling movements.

His mouth moves down to your neck. "mmm... let me... make you feel... good, baby..."

He pulls your dress up and over your head, his brow becoming more sewn together as he takes in your near-naked form.

"Porco, make me yours..." You plead still fired up from your frictions earlier.

"Oh, I will..." He smirks, tearing the cloth down your legs. "Besides, you're already mine now, anyway."

Still laying on your sides he grips the underside of your thigh, lifting up your leg as he snakes down the bed, his tongue lapping the length of your slit.

"Ah ~!" Your eyes clasp shut as he begins to sensually and slowly make out with your sex, your toes curling as he groans into you.

"W-we'll have to s-stay quiet...~" You remind him.

Porco didn't care, of course. Fuck his friends waking up. He had you and he was going to ruin you.

Your claws grip his hair as he pinpoints your clitoris, fiery jolts of electricity shooting through your entirety as he relentlessly invades it with his warm, textured tongue. Your hips jerk a little while he leaves your thigh suspended in the air, his fingers now sliding inside of you with a beautiful fullness.

You hum, you gasp, you sing with whispers as he works you, finally having Porco Galliard feeling beyond wonderful as he curves his fingers and hooking into you, pulling on your sweet spot.

You wonder with awe where he'd learned all this - you knew him well enough now to know he didn't get much action. Not that he couldn't, the ladies loved him. He just for whatever reason, chose not too. You'd figured he was one of those who didn't really chase anyone until he had built up feelings for them.

You'd seen him once on a date with some woman not long after you first met, but nothing seemed to have come of that.

Little did you know, Porco fell for you at first sight and he couldn't carry the guilt of continuing something with someone else while he was simmering into a boil for you - not having anyone since.

Porco tears himself away, his balls swollen from the accidental teasing early, on top of the purposeful lap dance you'd given him. His dick throbbed and was weeping, crying to be pushed snuggly into you as he pushes you by your ass so you were lying now on your other side.

Taken by surprise at his assertiveness, you figured he was beyond the realm of his shyness by how fired up he was feeling as he circled his head at your entrance. His fingertips dig into your ass cheeks as he pushes himself inside of you, the resistance of your tight insides making him groan and hiss, his hips immediately beginning to pound into you.

Your voice is lost and your eyes roll as his fat fullness pushes its way eagerly deep within your core, his erratic panting like music to your ears.

"N'ah ~ ah... N'uh..." he wimpers. "You feel so good, your name... ah, ah, ah..."

He pulls out to pull your leg open so he's now in between your splayed legs, and not just behind your gorgeous rump. Without a word he grabs your hips and returns to his thrusts, pulling you down by your waist like you were his sex doll, your tits bouncing beautifully with each hard pound.

You could scarcely describe the pleasure that was flowing through you, your insides flexing and tensing with glee as you watch his gorgeous, sculpted form work you, his abs rolling and the tops of his cheeks etched blood red. His muscular broad shoulders roll and flex with each pull of your body, his expression of amazement and awe not once leaving his face.

He's spoilt for choice as he now throws you firmly yet carefully around on to your front, the slick sounds of your soaked and puffy lips echoing throughout the room as he nestles back into you, his lips caressing the back of your neck in between his heavy breaths and whimpers.

"Your name... shit, ah..."

"Porco, I'm getting close." You inform him, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as you feel the building wave beneath you, rolling higher with each push of his delicious cock.

He whimpers loudly at the news, picking up the pace and grabbing handfuls of anything he could from this position, mainly your hips and ass.

You gasp as he exits you, once again pulling you around onto your back, his hasted movements and trembling arms placing your legs over his shoulders, dipping himself back within you, this time much deeper than before.

You cry out as he grazes your cervix, the patterns of your internal spasms becoming more erratic as you near your end - the golden feeling of it going to be huge as it just keeps building from beneath the surface.

"I want you to look at me when you come undone." He smirks, face flushed red and his lids heavy. "Look at me while I take you into heaven, baby."

All you can do is nod as he keeps dipping himself deeply within, the feeling so full, it was almost like he was in your throat too.

"I'm close ~ N'ahw..." His pitch heightens and his eyes plead at you.

You orgasm so hard, your vision is black as you turn deaf, blind and dumb, swirling weightless in the void, your entire body tingling and sheer pleasured euphoria bombards and assaults your body from every angle, Porco crying out loudly from somewhere beyond your veil of dark fog, circling the drain of insanity as your nails sink harshly into his arms. Your back arches, still not back within your body as your silent scream is deafening, legs trembling at Porco's mercy. The orgasm begins to leave after what feels like a short eternity, your vision returning as Porco's thick, hot mess is still erupting into you, his high pitched whines almost pathetic in the sexiest way possible, his grip on you certainly going to leave marks as he tumbles down his own rabbit hole of pure, undiluted bliss.

He wheezes and pants as he falls down onto you, his sloppy and desperate kisses covering your lips, cheek and neck.

"Ah ~ shit... your name... that was..."

He'd not had sex since he'd met you and if he had to wait all that time again for another orgasm that powerful, he sure fucking would - his eyes watering and flushed face rubbing into your neck.

"Ah ~ god I love you..." He whines.

He'd filled you up so full, it was already beginning to leak with his thick, goopy seed even though he was still plugged up within you.

"I love you too, baby..." Your voice is barely audible, your empty stare into the ceiling evident that your brain was still suffering from its short circuit.

"Oh Porco, I'm sorry..." You then whisper, noticing the nail marks in his skin.

"What? Oh... don't worry about it." He pants, the biggest, dumbest grin spreading across his face. "War wounds, huh?"

"Shut up." You laugh, playfully hitting your love.

[todderwodders]

WIP WHENEVER

Enver gets big feelings that are now Faline's problem (tw whipping)

“Is she younger or older?”

He is surprised. Surprised enough to stand with a grunt, feeding another log to the fire. It crackles and snaps with wet resin.

“Older,” he answers patiently.

“You do seem like a younger brother,” she says agreeably, almost teasing him. He feels himself swallow, but Faline does not press. She is not chatting for nothing, she is not pushing a conversation past its limit, as if she is nervous.

“Do I?” He stands, taking his cat in hand, luxuriating in the little barbs scrapping across his open palm.

“You do,” she agrees gently.

“Tell me”, Enver begins, letting the tails of the whip flow through his hands. “You're about to have yourself whipped bloody, and yet you are calm. Why?”

“Oh? Is that what you intend?” Faline asks with a calm that draws him in.

“It is, lady.” It is simple. It is so simple to take her.

“No ‘fruit’ tonight?” She chides, one claw trailing over her knee in the same shape she has touched his chin.

“If you’d like to be called ‘fruit’, fruit. Do not dodge my question.”

“Yes, men with long strips of leather do not like being put off. Let us see –” Faline leans into him, fingers splaying wide in her lap as her stomach concave before she snaps back to an acceptable posture. “It is what it is.”

Enver arches an eyebrow. “That is all?”

“That is all,” she agrees.

“Do you think I will not hurt you? I will, fruit, I promise you that.”

“No,” she says evenly, “I am well aware.”

Enver leans into her back, presses a kiss to her nose. “I would like you to put your hands on the floor, in a position you will be able to keep. I will not wait if you fall.”

Faline nods. A strand of hair falls into her face, trailing her cheek as she presses herself into position. Her tail tucks itself beneath her, coiling around her feet as if she were a statue of a thoughtful demoness, hiding her naked shame from the world. He does not believe this girl has ever felt shame a day in her life, though. “Yes, milord.”

He stands, steps back for a moment as he watches her. She has lost most of the weight she has gained while in his home, her ribs showing through the skin of her back, the ridges of her spine nearly standing out from her body. All of that work, and it has been washed away.

Enver sighs.

He trails the cat across her rump, her back, her shoulders. He lets her feel the knots, the little jagged ridges of iron that peak at irregular intervals in the cores of some, but not all of each tail. He must be careful, he thinks, not to rip the cat back at certain angles.

“You will take ten lashes.” He says softly, only barely audible above the fire. “One for each time you ignored me.”

“That is only five.”

Of course she kept count.

“Five more for the cost of the cleric and the blood on my back porch.”

“Oh, yes,” she says, voice suddenly soft, “please allow me to apologize to Delphine later.”

“Don't bother, he says, jerking the cat back lazily, almost gently. “She'll only bully you into cleaning it up.”

He lands the first blow to the base of her back, a hair below where her tail parts from her body. The blow is not much, barely ushering in a crack of flesh on tanned flesh, but a barb has cut into Faline from one side to another. The yelp is quiet, but not restrained.

“It is beneath you.”

Another crack across the small of her back, another gasp as she shivers against two more sections of split skin. Tieflings are hardier, their skin thicker than a humans but not universally so. She does not respond to him, does not fight her body as another blow comes and she shudders again.

The fourth is across her shoulders, and Enver takes his time to aim the tails so they strike with the flow of atrophied once-wings. The flesh is tender here, and he catches the sound of an open mouthed sob just before he strikes again, this time from shoulder to ass. He feels sweat begin to prickle at his brow, feels his breath picking up.

The cuts from the last strike are deep, he can see the shift of muscle and skin in five particularly deep lacerations just before blood begins to pool down her back. The ruby like sheen of it looks beautiful against her skin.

Faline looks over her shoulder at him then, eyes large, face flushed. He can hear her breath, see her body spasm in the shock of this punishment.

It’s breathtaking.

[razorsharpteeth]

TIMING: A few days after the recent full moon PARTIES: Monty @howdy-cowpoke and Samir @razorsharpteeth LOCATION: Prickly Pears SUMMARY: Samir shows up at the farm for some per diem work. Monty immediately guesses the other is a werewolf and still lets him work. Farmwork is fun, but why is it only the animals that have heartbeats? CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

If he had a dollar for every man that turned up on his farm looking worse for wear, he'd have two dollars, which wasn't a lot but it was weird that it had happened twice. Three times, technically, if you counted both times Gael had shown up during a full moon. 

At least this one hadn't killed and eaten anything. Nor was he naked or disoriented, actually—he seemed perfectly cognizant and was here about the paying work, he just also looked a bit like he'd been put through the ringer. Which… was far closer to the truth than Monty realized as he gave the man a once-over, not particularly discreet about it though it seemed to come from a place of worry. 

He knew what time of the month it was. He also knew what a magnet he was for werewolves, so—

"Sí, you can have the per diem position," he agreed, hugging one arm to his midsection and letting the other elbow rest atop it, hand pressed gently to his own face. Concern etched lines in his features as he frowned, disliking the sight of some familiar would upon yet another undeserving visage. "But… are you… all right? Have the last two nights been, ah, unkind to you?" There was a beat. "I do not mean to pry, señor Zidan, I just… I am a worrier." He offered a small smile. "Humor me?"

—

Some fights were more lucrative than others. Some fights were easier on the body and soul. But not this full moon, this full moon Samir had woken in his cage aching and more tired than usual. His usual envelope had not held a lot of money. He’d huffed, but said no more, and gone home to seek an odd job. It wasn’t like he’d not done this before: he used to hold down jobs before, albeit never for long, and at those he returned to work after the full moons as well. He did not permit himself a break.

And sure, he looked worse for wear. There was a nasty stitch in his side. A bruise forming on his jaw. But it wasn’t too bad — he could open both his eyes, and there was no taste of iron in his mouth. He was capable enough, and besides, idle hands had to be avoided. He let the other watch, despite the crawling sensation it brought. Samir didn’t like to be witnessed. He hoped Razor didn’t mind as much.

“Great. I’ll be here tomorrow again? Whatever I can help with today …” He trailed off. He would be amused by being called señor Zidan if it wasn’t all so discomforting in the first place. There was an insinuation here, sat right between them. He clicked his tongue, shrugged. “I understand. I have the worrier gene too.” It was more of a learned trait, admittedly, unless it was something he’d gained from his late father. His mother didn’t have it, though, that was for certain. “I’m fine. If … what you are trying to hint at is an issue, I’d understand. I’ll get out of your hair right away.” Workplace discrimination was, perhaps, warranted in the case of shapeshifting monsters, right? “And you can call me Samir, please.”

—

He never knew if someone else knew what they were. He hadn’t, after all, not for a long time… and Gael didn’t, despite the circumstances. So he couldn’t assume much, but to someone who had befriended a number of werewolves, the signs were pretty obvious. 

“Oh!” Monty exclaimed, evidently horrified at the idea of having given the man—Samir—the wrong impression about his concern. “No, no, nothing like that! I—we—” He took a breath (that he didn’t need), stabilizing his thoughts after a beat and then shaking his head. “It’s no issue. I just want to make sure you are okay, that’s all. I have friends who are…” He let the sentence hang in the air before dropping to the dirt beneath their feet, figuring that some things could go unsaid, at least for now. If he was a werewolf, or a were… something else, there was a decent chance he’d realize that everyone on the farm lacked a heartbeat sooner rather than later. That is to say, once they were around other people. “Please. Follow me, we’ll need to speak with Daisy. I am sure she’ll have a list of chores that need doing—I can walk you through them.”

As the pair moved deeper into the property, the animals milling about their paddocks and creating a lovely ambient backdrop of bleats and whinnies, more and more hands seemed to crawl out of the woodwork. Perhaps they’d been there all along, or perhaps they’d simply been waiting for a signal from their boss that it was okay to resume work—he never wanted to compromise their safety, after all. 

—

There was a look of confusion on Samir’s face, as if the simple act of consideration was enough to make him question things. In a sense, it was — it was a strange and unbecoming thing to be faced with. He didn’t talk to many fellow supernaturals, let alone werewolves, and felt like there was something stained about them. He held judgment for his own nature: so why shouldn’t this farmer?

Instead, he questioned if he was okay. “Ah. No, I can assure you I’m fine. It might not … look exactly fine,” he said, gesturing at his face, the discoloration at his jaw in particular, “But I have taken care of it. I can assure you that I’ll still be capable of whatever you throw at me.” Painkillers helped. As did his masochistic tendency to bite through the pain and just do it, but such details were not really job-interview material. Or any kind of conversation, maybe — it wasn’t like Samir was self-aware enough to verbalize them. “The others you know, are they also in town? You don’t have to … tell me who they are, or anything, I’m not asking that. This all takes a certain level of confidentiality. I just don’t meet a lot of people like me.” He smiled, despite himself. He’d met the two other wolves at the Pit, but they hadn’t even exchanged their human names. Part of that was his own design. 

He moved in tandem with Monty, not sure if he liked that the other knew of his predicament. But he needed the cash, he’d made the drive and so he might as well stick it out for today. Besides, the other seemed kind, rather than disgusted. Still confusing, that. “Sounds all good. You’ve got a nice array of animals here.” Their scents mingled into one overwhelming thing and Samir let himself be distracted by it, the noise and smell of farm. That, too, was promising: if it was a lot on the mind as well as the body, he’d be tired enough to sleep at the end of a day.

—

Nodding in understanding as Samir insisted that he was fine, Monty figured he’d let it drop. For now, at least. But if the man came back looking for more work and with an even rougher appearance than he had now, there would be more questions, born purely of concern. “They are,” Monty said gently, offering a small smile of his own. “One of them has had many years to acclimate himself, the other… well. He is new to it. Learning. Accepting. It is a slow process.” 

“Ah, thank you! I am sure you will get to know them quite well, if you decide to come back,” Monty chuckled, leading the man up to the main house where a tall, dark-haired woman was standing on the porch, looking over a clipboard. Monty and Samir approached the steps and she looked up, flashing them both a bright grin. 

And, just like Monty, she distinctly lacked a heartbeat.

“Howdy there, friend!” she greeted Samir in a friendly, thick Southern accent, adjusting the hat on her brow before reaching out a hand to shake. “Name’s Daisy, but you can call me Dais if you’re feelin’ so inclined! Now, I hear you’re here for some work, huh? Just so happens, I got a nice long list of things I need done today while I go see a man about some sheep.” Monty smirked, giving Samir a look that said didn’t I tell you? before accepting the folded up piece of paper that Daisy pulled from her pocket. 

“Now, just get done what you can, and don’t forget to take your breaks! Monty here can show you the ropes, and make sure he doesn’t forget to write down your hours, okay? Gotta make sure ya’ll get paid.” She beamed. “Sound good?”

—

Acclimation, what did that look like? Samir had to wonder. Had he become an acclimated werewolf over the past years? It hardly felt like it — he only managed to cope now through ignorance and violence. Monetizing his monstrosity. It worked, in a sense, but it wasn’t honorable, nor pretty. “It is a slow process,” he said, “One I’m not sure ever ends. I hope he has good people to help him?” He definitely couldn’t offer his services on that front. Half a decade of transformations hadn’t made him any better at it.

He gave a nod and a smile at that statement, letting his heightened senses adjust to the pace of this place. All the animalistic scents, that earthy musk. The heartbeats that differed per animal. The lack of a human pace besides his own — but Samir chalked that up to fatigue, for now.

Lips spread in a polite smile at the sight of Daisy. “Hi Daisy.” There was a gesture to himself. “Samir. Good to hear. Don’t like any empty days, myself. Best to keep busy.” The list was handed from one farmer to another, and he nodded at Monty, wondering about the relative quiet in the air between the three of them. There were people like that at the Pit sometimes, but he never stayed around long enough to really question it. He shook off the thoughts for now. “Sure, all sounds good. Just give a shout if there’s anything I gotta know.” 

He turned to Monty, eyeing the list. “Alright. What’s on our to do list first?” 

—

“He does, I think. I am doing what I can for him, but of course I’m not… like him, so my perspective is not especially helpful. My friends, though, they are trying to help support, yes.” The conversation about the mystery friend died down as they approached Daisy, and once their list of tasks was given, Monty took a moment to read it over before giving Samir a nod. 

“Well, there are the daily things, firstly… the sheep need lunch.” There were other hands tending to the cows and goats and horses, but it was their task to make sure the herd of curly-haired sweethearts had their afternoon meal. “We’ve got roughage and hay for them in storage—come, I’ll show you.” 

The afternoon continued without a hitch, the pair fixing several stretches of fencing together after feeding the sheep. After that, it was bathtime for a few of the horses, and Jicama needed to be re-shod. They were of course surrounded by other farm hands doing other farm hand tasks, and if Samir chose to pay particular attention to any of it, he’d find that not a single one of them carried a heartbeat. The only living things on this farm were the animals. 

“Say, you must be getting hungry,” Monty remarked as he rolled up his farrier’s tools, setting them back on their shelf and unhooking Jicama’s lead to take her back out to pasture. He motioned for Samir to follow, flashing him a small grin as they fell into step beside one another. “If you are, I’m sure we can throw something together, unless you’d rather eat at home. But… I think we have gotten through the better part of Daisy’s list!” Just in time, too, because the sun was starting to sink very close to the horizon. 

—

Those wondering thoughts he’d tried to shake off before – about the silence, the lack of human heartbeats – returned to Samir throughout the day. The sheep’s hearts were busy things, pumping around blood through those fuzzy bodies of theirs, and the horses were steadier, but present all the same. It made sense, maybe. Why else would the farmer have known of his affliction? Perhaps he had something going on himself.

Samir did his work, though, without complaining. When his aching body shot a dagger of pain through him, he winced — but never long enough to draw attention, moving through the pains as if it was his own kind of penance. There was ample distraction. Working with ones hands had always been his preference, anyway.

To ask your newfound employer pressing questions seemed like a bad idea anyway, especially in this town. Samir chose relative ignorance and took what he saw and heard at face value and with that, came to the conclusion that Monty was, if anything, a kind man. He gave a grunt in response, followed it with a, “Yeah,” as he caught up to the farmer and his horse.

“Sure thing. Am not a bad cook myself, but if you want to, you can just keep whatever we use from my pay.” Grit Pit rules. Samir missed the family meals at former workplaces. “And hey, good to know. If there’s more stuff to be done tomorrow, though…” He shrugged, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air. He looked at the horse and her steady heartbeat as she moved back into the pasture. “They’ve got it good here, the animals.” He thought of the creatures in cages at his actual job. How his wolf-side would have devoured all those sheep rather than fed them. He blinked, looked back at Monty, “Can I ask you something?” He’d rather have it out, if he were to return.

—

Monty threw him a confused look, cocking his head to the side. “What? Oh, no... do not worry about that, mi amigo. The food is on us,” the cowboy assured him, waving away the idea of having Samir pay for it. “If you wish to cook, though, by all means! I am certainly not an expert when it comes to food,” Monty laughed. “Daisy will be able to help you more than I can.” The human food was all for guests anyway, it wasn't like anyone on the farm had a need for it. But they still kept it stocked, just in case. And now, judging by the man's offer to come back again the next day, they might finally have someone to regularly enjoy it. “Tomorrow? Well sure! There is always more to be done, and we will always happily accept help.” He smiled brightly at Samir. “You are welcome to come by for work any time!”

Gaze fixed on Jicama as she trotted back into the pasture, hands deftly locking the gate after her, Monty hummed. “Thank you,” he glanced back at Samir, giving a small shrug. “We do all we can to make sure they're well taken care of.” And then, there was a question.

“Of course! What is it?”

—

He was kind, in an effortless way that made Samir feel jealous, which in turn made him dislike himself just a bit more. “Alright, alright, if you’re sure. I’ll lend a hand, then,” he said, conceding. He’d bring something along as a thanks, then, next time. As the other ensured him that he could come back any time for work, he felt himself grow a little more slack with relief. He’d like to come back, he thought. Maybe not forever, but at least for a few days the coming week. It was a good distraction. Even if his body ached from the work and the fights. “Alright. I’ll be here same time tomorrow, then. Thanks.” He frowned, but decided not to linger too long on that slip-up.

The other was thanking him too, after all. If that meant anything. “It shows.” He gave a small smile in return, and then struggled to get to his question. The other had been forward about his own nature, had pointed out his lycanthropy easily and without much hesitation — so wasn’t he in a position to return the favor?

“I’ve noticed …” He swallowed. “Well, that your heart doesn’t beat. I’m — I’ve encountered it before, I know it’s something that exists.” Samir frowned, his shortcomings self-made. He didn’t ask questions at the Grit Pit, but Monty seemed like a better person to ask things of. “The animals, they all have heartbeats, but the people don’t. I guess my question is — how?” Though what the fuck? would also be fitting.

—

The gentle, easy smile that always seemed to be present on Monty’s face turned into something a little more pointed, corners of his eyes crinkling as he let out a breathy laugh. “Ah. I was wondering when you’d bring it up. All my werewolf friends eventually do.” Pleased to have it more out in the open now, the cowboy gave a quick glance around them—not to see if they were alone, but just as a way of generally taking in the space fondly. 

“We’re all dead—the hands and I. All… zombies.” The word still felt silly to say, but he wasn’t aware of a better alternative. Gesturing toward the cattle, goat, and sheep pastures in turn, he gave a nod. “That’s our main food source here. The goal of this place is not really selling dairy, though that is a happy byproduct of the work we do, but… it is more about keeping us fed.” He glanced back at Samir, brows furrowing. “Obviously the media has gotten many things about zombies, ah… what’s the word… miscon… misconstrued? But there is one fact they all seem to agree on, and that’s the brains of it all.” He shrugged. “Human, unfortunately, is the most nutritious we can get our hands on. But I’m doing my best to support these undead so they do not have to rely on that, to help keep them—and the people of this town—a little safer.” He clasped his hands, wringing them together for a moment before continuing. “I understand if this makes you feel wary about returning. No hard feelings. It is a shocking thing to realize.”

—

Zombies. It was almost laughable, but Samir had long ago lost the ability to see the humor in things. Even as his mind flashed to the video games he’d played and movies he’d watched with zombies, he understood Monty’s point not to go off them for reference. Eyebrows furrowed, staring at the dead man walking across from him, wondering what to make of it all. There was some trepidation, a natural response, but he knew above all that there was no space for him to judge. The wolf inside had chewed off limbs and devoured other bits of humans. Who was he to now grow distasteful of people who had to do the same to survive? Besides, Monty said they ate mostly animals. “Alright.” He shook his head at the offer that he’d might not want to return. “No, it’s — I understand, in a sense. Or at least, am not in any position to judge. It’s a good thing, I guess, what you’re doing. Keeping ‘em fed.” He supposed there was something about control in play there, which he related to more than he might like to admit. “We all have to find our ways of dealing with these things, right?” He, with his position at the Grit Pit. Monty, with the thing he had going on here. “But I appreciate you sharing. Best to have it all out in the open, huh?” Samir shrugged, clasped his hands together. “Dinner?”