#no thanks and also i want to tear the walls down with my teeth

[o-lanterns]

your parent/s 🤝 my dad

loving the big bang theory and mcu garbage

I gave up trying to explain to my mom why I don't like the big bang theory and how Sheldon is an autistic caricature, but she was like 'but Sheldon's my favorite! He's so funny! Oh but I'm not laughing *at* him, it's different.' okay mother well the show plays a laugh track every time he talks. There's a scene where, in a children's book store, he sees toys and goes "Oh, I love trains!" To which the employee says "Of course you do."

Sure totally nothing wrong with finding that funny. Not an insult to people like me at all. See it's okay because it's something she likes, which can never have things wrong with it.

[nachojaehyun]

love galore

pairing. ex boyfriend seungcheol + afab reader

summary. when you meet your ex at a charity event, you like to imagine that the universe just wants to kill you. luckily, the mysterious forces of nature have other plans.

w.c 0.9k

warnings. porn with very little plot, car sex, backseat shenanigans, riding, minor tit play, BIG DICK CHEOL!!!! steamy sex, skin slapping, petnames: hers baby, slut his cheol, cheollie — 18+ MINORS DNI!

a/n. exam szn testing my fucking patience. maybe i’m back. maybe i’m not. based off of the song love galore by sza but not rlly 🫶 also wtf we are at 800 followers?? thank you???!!!! also, i surived nnn ;)

this was supposed to be a relaxed evening for you, visiting the charity event in Gwangju just to look at some cute animals and donating for a good cause.

it was supposed to be a few hours that you didn’t spend moping about in your apartment after breaking up with someone who you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with.

well, the word ‘suppose’ doesn’t even cross your mind at the moment.

how could it, when his hands grab at your hips, his lips parted in a groan? when his mouth says your name so beautifully?

you’d not noticed seungcheol at first. not until you were on your knees stroking a moody ginger cat when suddenly someone’s fingers brushed against your own.

at first glance, you wanted to cuss him out. scream, yell, clock him in the jaw, commit arson– every crime under the sun.

but all you could do was helplessly moan like a desperate whore.

seungcheol hastily led you to his car, mouth melding with yours, opening the back door and practically throwing you inside. he tasted like mint and a hint of coffee. just the taste you liked.

nothing about the moment is soft. all that can be heard is his groans, your soft breaths and the lewd dance of your tongues.

“take your pants off,” seungcheol heaves, sitting upright in the backseat as he tugs you into his lap. one of his hands pushes his hair back, eyes dark as he scrutinizes you.

you follow his orders without batting an eye, unbuttoning your jeans with much difficulty in the cramped space and sliding them off.

seungcheol yanks your tank top down, spitting on your nipple as he spares it a lick. “missed you,” he mumbled, teething on your peak as if you hadn’t lost all train of thought the second his lips had met yours.

“missed you, missed these gorgeous tits, and of course, this needy pussy,” his fingers slide between your legs, prodding at your folds. “she’s still mine, right? or did you find someone else?”

you shake your head with a whine when his fingers enter you, feeling your tight walls contract around him. with the pad of his thumb on your engorged clit, seungcheol thrusts his fingers in, a pace that has your mind fogging.

“c-cheollie,” you hiccup, but he shushes you with a bite on your left nipple. “shush baby, just enjoy it,” his words are hoarse, as his tongue lavs over and over your perky mounds.

you can feel the impending telltale of your orgasm the second his fingers curl and they hit that spot inside of you. seungcheol feels a gush of arousal from you, not letting you cum, but just about there to silently remove his fingers and suck them into his mouth.

his cock replaces his fingers, and you just about lose the air from your lungs. no matter how many times you’ve had sex with him, it always feels like the first.

the fat tip pushes past your folds, slowly sinking you down on him. he hisses at the contact. “still so tight f’me... you’ve been a good girl, haven’t you? didn’t let anyone touch what’s mine, hm?”

he knows he’s blabbering, but when he notices the tears spring up to your eyes, seungcheol’s fingers, slightly wet from his saliva wipe them away.

“it’s okay, baby. i love you. i still do.”

you lean into his touch, relishing in the soft moment inside the steamy car when the bastard ruins it.

seungcheol bottoms out inside you, eliciting a moan that sounds so pornographic, you wonder why you’ve not switched careers yet.

the one thrust is enough for you to grab onto his shoulders, lips crashing against his with the power of a sea storm as you begin to ride him.

your tongue swirls with his, squelching noises coming from down below as he meets your thrusts halfway, hands planted on your hips. he sets the pace, your ass bouncing on his thighs, a noise that he has thoroughly yearned for.

“such a good little slut for me,” he whispers against your lips as you lean back, tits bouncing in his face as your thighs start to ache.

but you couldn’t care. not now anyway.

“so big inside me cheol... filling me up all the way,” you moan, eyes rolling as your lower stomach tightens slightly.

the stretch of his cock is too much, splitting your pussy into two in the best way possible. you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, twitching inside you as you praise his size. god, the man’s ego was almost as huge as his dick.

“gonna make me cum like that, baby,” seungcheol whispers, one of his hands leaving your hips to come up and squeeze your mounds. “want me to pull out?” he asks, flicking your nipple with a finger.

“fuck– hah! yes, pull out, pull out!”

with one last thrust and impeccable timing, you feel yourself cum, as he pulls out and releases all over your stomach. the white paints your skin and manages to land a few specks on your tank top.

seungcheol’s breathing is unsteady, as is yours. the sex induced fog seems to fade slightly, as you come down from the incredible high you’ve just experienced.

“stop looking like you regret this, y/n. i know you wanna come back to my place,” seungcheol pushes a strand of damp hair behind your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the sweaty skin of your jaw.

the moment is soft, a rare gem among the monstrous haze that the demon of lust had bestowed upon the two of you.

“what do you think, baby? wanna fuck on the couch like usual?”

oh, how you could you refuse that offer?

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[issysh3ll]

Eye Contact 𓁺 Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: smut, sex (p in v), eye contact, riding, creampie Summary: Matt loves eye contact while you're riding him and you love to watch him struggle to keep it Word count: 456

Matt’s eyes stare up at yours as you bounce on his cock, his brows furrowing in pleasure and his jaw slack as he pants with pleasure at each movement. He’s always so determined to maintain eye contact while you fuck him, not wanting to miss the way your face contorts with pleasure as his cock rubs against your wet walls, but the way you move your hips, the way your pussy pulls him in further each time you move has him losing control of himself far quicker than he would like.

Small whimpers escape his mouth as he feels your walls tighten around him, your wetness squeezing around his cock buried so deeply inside of you. His hands shift from your thighs to grip desperately at your hips, “nngh f-fuck, I can’t ─” he pants, his words shaky as he just barely manages to keep his gaze connected to yours.

His desperate whimpers and pants continue as you pick up your pace, watching as Matt’s eyelids begin to flutter, still refusing to lose sight of you as the pleasure begins to overtake him. His teeth biting down against his bottom lip in an attempt to not lose control.

Matt’s hands on your hips claw desperately at you and his face contorts into an expression of pleading as his eyes start to lose their focus. “m’close, fuck-k” he breathes, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you, flicking forward against that sweet spot that makes you release a breathy moan.

Seeing Matt’s pleasure begin to overwhelm him you bring a hand forward to grip his jaw, holding his face towards you as his eyes start slowly fluttering and rolling back into his head. “mm cum for me baby, wanna see your face while you fill me up,” you moan out with one last bounce on Matt’s cock before a loud, broken moan pulls from his mouth.

His eyes welling up with tears as he tries to force his gaze to stay on you as his orgasm washes over him. The sight of his face, so desperate to please you as you feel hot spurts of his release paint your insides, brings you to the peak of your pleasure. Your hips grinding against his and your jaw going slack, your eyes dropping closed and trying to hold the image of Matt’s perfect, desperate face in your sight forever.

Your body flops forwards as the waves of pleasure washing over you begin to slow, your panting breath hot against Matt’s neck. His arms wrap around your back, pulling you closer to him as he turns his head to place a kiss against your temple and mutters gently in your ear, “felt so good, thank you baby.”

✧˖° a/n:: this is my first piece of writing i've ever posted! i haven't written anything in about 5 years so sorry if this isn't good. Let me know your thoughts in the comments or send me an ask if you have constructive criticism, I'd love to improve my writing♡ I also wrote this at 3am very tired so..

My other works → here

Chris version → here

© issysh3ll

[wrthzell]

hi! Could you write a Vander x male reader where Vander in his werewolf(?)/Warwick(?) form recognizes the reader, and reader also recognizes him, and is so so happy to meet his old lover again

Sorry any mistakes, English is not my first language!

𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 — (Vander/Warwick X Male Reader).

Note: Thank you for the request! No worries; English is not my first language either, and your request was very comprehensible. It turned out a bit short, but I hope it's to your liking.

Summary: The old memories of what could have been and what was haunt you, but after being called to the mines you once used to work on, you find that maybe your life won't have to be filled with regret and longing.

Warnings: Spoilers, don't read unless you've watched Arcane.

Key: (Y/n) — Your name. | (H/c) — Your hair colour. | (E/c) — Your eye colour.

Sickly green neon lights reflect on murky brown water, and a stomach-churning stench rises from the walls of the worn-down building; the grey impregnated itself in any surface it touched, like acrid sulfur. (Y/n) crouched in front of The Last Drop, (e/c) eyes squinting to make out any recognisable feature in what once was a haven to him.

He dusted off the dirt that had collected in the upper part of his pants and inhaled sharply, lungs long accustomed to the poisonous fog of his hometown. He pressed forward. The inside was empty—needless to check; he wouldn't find her inside. The paper felt like lead in his pocket, heavy and foreboding—a reminder of his failures and the grief that followed any Zaunite like a wailing shadow.

He hadn't gone to the mines in years, and he hadn't had to work there in such a long time that he wasn't sure what exactly they looked like after everything. The entrance was falling apart, and wood planks, detached and broken, littered the floor, and glass cracked underneath his shoes. He tightened his jaw and looked down, the pitch-black darkness of the cave illuminating with every step. 

Thump, thump, thump. The impact of his boots against the floor echoed—the caves amplified each sound closer than it truly was—and the faint noises of water dripping reached his ears along with a low rumbling. She was deeper there, had to be. His fingers rubbed the paper note inside his pocket, hope simmering inside his chest.

Thundering footsteps started to come in his direction; something metallic scratched against the walls. He raised his guard, crouching and aiming his gun at the origin of the sound. The walls illuminated in a quick flash, and a dark shadow moved too fast for him to brace himself for it, the thing colliding into his chest and throwing him to the ground.

Mismatched eyes looked straight into his, and a gaping maw with sharp teeth stopped just short of tearing his face apart. Shivers went down his spine, and his lips quivered, tears welling in his eyes as he raised a trembling hand to the creature's face. A sharp set of footsteps entered the place, the light going up again and illuminating the monster's face further. Greyish dark fur coated a familiar face and warped it into something recognisable but not completely. 

“Thought you'd want to see him.” Powder announced, her gun clanking against her belt. 

Vi stepped closer, opening her mouth and closing it before finally settling on explaining it. “It's...”

“Vander.” He held the man's face in his hands, tears falling down his eyes, a thunderous storm inside his heart. The man he loved. The man he loves. He holds him tenderly but strongly, as if afraid that when he lets go, it will all dissolve and morph back into his bleak reality.

Vander softens, resting his head against the crook of the other man's neck. A content sigh leaves his nose and ruffles the hair on the (h/c)-haired man's head. “(Y/n).”

“Sheesh, even he recognised him way faster than you did.” The blue-haired woman jabbed at her sister, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a teasing smirk. Her facade breaks as she sees a hand outstretched in her direction. 

(Y/n) reassuringly squeezes her hand, a wide smile on his lips as he unburies his head from Vander's fur and turns it towards his daughter. “Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me. You love him as much as we do,” she laughs bitterly. Her hand, albeit hesitant, holds his tighter.

“I do. I don't know how you found him or what happened, but you brought me back to him. I haven't felt like this in so long.” His voice sounds choked, and he looks back at the pair of blue and yellow eyes, his hands caressing the rough skin. He feels Vander's strong arms curl around him, and the fur tickles his neck and arms, warm and comforting. “I love you,” he whispers in the man's ear, loud enough for only them to hear it.

“Love... you.” He answers back.

[sordidmusings]

Thirsty Thursday with Mihawk - The Hat Stays ON

Art by koitosoup

A/N: This is very indulgent because I needed desperate and needy Mihawk to exist and this prompt tumbled right on into that to sate me 🤡 (at the airport hoping no one is looking over my shoulder rn too LOL)

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: afab!reader, NSFW, p in v, forceful undertones towards beginning, desk sex, creampie, begging, praise, lots of the pet name "love", Mihawk is like super needy he moans "please" dude, he's also very in love, and trying sUPER hard not to finish first by the end 💀, stress relief before Cross Guild meeting, brief moment shit-talking the other two lol turns real sweet at the end cuz I couldn’t help myself

Please enjoy this man being as close to a mess as I think I can convincingly get him ╰(▔∀▔)╯

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Mihawk is usually the type of man to fully take his time enjoying every inch of you.

Usually.

“I know, love, I know,” his voice is full of panting desperation, worn to a fluster by his pressing need and his frantic firm thrusts into you. “I’ll make it up to you later, I just -nnhah- just gotta fuck you now -nnnhg fuck- don’t wanna think about anything but how fucking good it feels inside you.”

When Mihawk came to your study not thirty minutes before the next Cross Guild meeting, this was the last thing you were expecting. Though, it did fly right to the top of the list when you saw the intensity of his shining gold eyes on you and the rigidness of his figure, all coiled muscle waiting to pounce and gritted teeth waiting to tear. You’d barely been able to get just his jacket over his shoulders before he was on you, speaking his need and hunger with persistent lips and hands. He was so set on getting his fill that he simply let his prized coat be dragged down his arms and thrown to the floor. Somehow, his hat survived the rush of his motions and the beloved closeness necessary for his demanding kisses.

Though they were rare, you loved the times he was like this, using you for his pleasure, clinging to you and taking you like nothing else in the world would ever suffice in sating him. You got just as much out of these times as he did, but you played it as a favor, partly for the delicious flavor it added to the dynamic to hear him apologize, beg, and thank as much as the stalwart Dracule Mihawk can and partly to earn the long and worshipful treatment he’d reward you with later. You’re not sure how he hasn’t caught onto you yet. Seeing the meticulously controlled man lose himself in his desire for you has you dripping, shown in the wet slap on each strong thrust. It was surely enough to give your abundant eagerness away.

Beyond that, you are just as ravenous for him, thighs clamped around his sides, hands gripping tightly to his tense forearms as he fucks you on your desk. You feel the jump of each muscle from their work sinking a bruising grip into your hips, manhandling them forward and back opposite the motion of his hips to fuck you just like he wants - like you’re a lifeline and if he just digs as deeply as he can into your sweet cunt as quickly as he can then he can finally breathe again.

Your heels pull him in on each quick thrust, the clench of your legs and abs for the motion helping a rhythmic pulse stroke at every inch of your walls and further firm your swollen lips and clit to absorb each delicious impact of Mihawk’s hips. The soft, sweat-damp skin of his back and sides teases your sensitive inner thighs and calves as he fucks you, his obliques dancing especially sinfully against your flesh. You loved admiring the look of his chiseled figure but absolutely nothing compared to the bliss of him using it against you.

The urge Mihawk has to collapse down over you and continuously drag you as close as possible is strong, but it is beat out by the erotic sight of watching the slap of his hips bounce your body. It lets you have a beautiful sight too; Mihawk backlit and looming over you, muscles fully displaying their strength and tone with the lack of his jacket, his curled hair and the feather on his cap swaying in time with him fucking into you. The hat still resting on his head only makes you feel smaller captured under him; he always looks impressive with it on and it makes the shadow he casts over you that much larger.

Mihawk uses an iron grip to throw one of your bare legs to hook over his shoulder. He uses his other hand to grip the inside of the other and shove it to the side, flat on your desk, trapping it down by putting his weight into his hold on your thigh. It forces your hips to turn on their side, giving him a new angle to work you open on his thick cock. The change has each forceful drag of his cock in you feel new again, recharging your nerves in their pleasant screaming. You tell him their call through whiny panting, chants of his name, and streams of “yes! like that, so good, fuck me harder, need it, need you so bad-”

There’s a firm thump and rattle of your desk as his hand plants next to your head to keep from collapsing over you. It leaves him crouching over you like a predator, but the hazy need in his eyes begging you to let him keep feeling this forever betrays the fact that he’s as deeply in your clutches as he tries to snatch you into his. The thickness of your thigh trapped between you helps keep him up as well as his other hand still pressing your leg down. His fingers that are sunk into your thigh dig deeper and tremble with his pleasure and overwhelm.

“Gods, love, you’re perfect, want to live between your thighs,” Mihawk groans, so close you can feel his panting breath cool the sweat on your face. He’s fighting his eyes to stay open, needing to see the pleasure scrunching your brow, loosening your jaw, fogging your eyes. The fluttering of his lids catches your eyes and swells your heart, shooting arousal through you from knowing he’s feeling so desperately good from fucking you. The amber of his eyes is so bright trained on you that it seems to glow through the shadows haunting his face. It makes him look all the more feral as he grips, spreads, bends, and fucks you like he wants to eat you whole. “Just -hahn- need some more from you, can you -nngaaah- do that for me, little love?”

You sob out a moan as you snap your eyes shut against the onslaught of sensation. The soreness his weight is pressing through your thigh and the tender stretch from your other leg being folded to your shoulder add more buzzing chaos to the sensations swirling their way through your body to flood your brain. The way he holds you open lets your clit take a soft impact every time he shoves his whole length into your plush pussy, giving the bud more little teases with how your body reverberates from the impact. 

“Look at me while I fuck you,” Mihawk snarls, but there’s desperation bleeding through the growl in his voice. You want to whine back at his request but you want to please him even more. You blink your eyes open and the raw need in them has Mihawk collapse just a bit more over you, feeling the want you and your pleasures ravage through his body begin to burn him alive. The brim of his hat taps lightly on your forehead from his closeness while he pants and moans to you, “Like that, love, fuck you’re so good for me.”

Meeting your gaze is a double edged sword; his arousal magnifies, his soul lights up, and his cock twitches hard but it also throws him to feeling right on the precipice of cumming and he’s not ready to stop feeling you. The siren song of the wet slapping of your hips, the slick sound of your pussy gushing around him and trying to keep him sucked as deep as he can reach, and your panting breaths carrying high moans and pleads and praises all tempt him to let the torrent of pleasure rush over him, promise him it would feel like endless blissful sin. It is all the harder to resist because he knows exactly how delicious it feels to sheathe himself from root to tip in you and pump stream after stream of hot cum into your welcoming walls while your cunt clings to him almost as tightly and desperately as his hands cling to you.

“Love, need you to cum,” Mihawk rushes out. He palms the hand on your thigh up so he can rub circles over your swollen clit. Your moans gain even more volume, filling the air in your office almost as thickly as the sweet, musky scent of sex.

“Need it, please,” he whispers breathlessly, “Need to feel you -nnnnhhah- love, love, need to feel your cunt sque-heeze me.” 

His vision begins blurring from the strain of staying right on the edge of cumming, barely holding back the powerful orgasm built from the burning in his muscles, the tingling in his fingers, the swirling in his head, and the throbbing of his cock. Giving up on trying to refocus them, he scrunches his eyes shut and lets his forehead fall down to rest on your temple, finally bumping his hat to fall onto the desk next to you. His closed eyes allow him to focus in better on all the other ways you are filling his senses, latching especially to your open mouth serenading him with needy babbling and fucked out moans.

“Can you be -ghahh- good and do that for me?” Mihawk pleads against your cheek. “Can you cum for me?”

“Y-yes, please, wanna be -mmmngh- good for you,” you whine back to him. His hips stutter at the tone and you feel his lips pull up around gritting teeth, an airy “fuck” sneaking past them.

“You are, sweetness, you are sooooo good for me,” Mihawk praises, swirling his thumb more insistently across your slick clit. The increase and pressure and perfect timing with his firm thrusts has your core tightening in threat of bursting. Your thighs had already been shaking in warning of your coming orgasm, but now the trembling is seating itself in every clench of your walls around Mihawk’s thick cock, wringing tighter and longer on each pulse. Your nerves sparkle and buzz more with each clamp down, the blazing rub of his throbbing dick and its bulging veins whiting out your mind. “Now come on, love -nngh- cum on my cock -fuuck please- let me feel you, make me cum -nnnghah- need to fuck you full.”

With a sob of his name, you finally fall over the edge. It feels as overwhelming as you had been expecting since he first stormed in and threw you over the desk. Your hands and cunt cling to him in need of a tether and in need of more; while your body is trembling with the bliss of your orgasm a tiny piece in the back of your mind is waiting for the final thing that will melt your whole body into a honey drip of heaven.

Mihawk doesn’t leave you waiting long; he is only able to feel your pussy milk him a handful of times before he can hold his end off no longer. With slurring groans of endearments and praises, he is overtaken by pleasure and can think of nothing beyond the relief of pumping you full of his cum with his twitching cock and grinding hips. The force of it has his thighs quake and numb out, making his weight crumble over you as he can no longer hold himself up. He nuzzles his face down the side of yours until he’s tucked panting against your neck, forehead pressed snuggly against your racing pulse.

You welcome his weight with open arms, one dragging him ever tighter to your heaving chest and the other winding its hand into his thick dark hair to ensure he never leaves. Both of you are still gasping for breath, your pressed chests rubbing and shaking against each other much like your greedy hips do as they ring out the endless pulsing beats of your orgasms. Your cunt and core continue to massage down on him and wring every bit of tight and bubbling bliss from his still hard and pumping cock that they can get. 

The feeling of being not only filled with his large and achingly hard cock but also the swelling heat of his cum makes your eyes roll back. He’s filled you full to bursting, now leaking out of you on every grind and the warm sticky sensation and sound matched with his pelvis massaging small sweeps across your clit prolongs your peak. You get to spend a long time suspended in the feeling of your body bursting with heat and joy and relief and electricity, all shoving your soul right out of your skin only for Mihawk’s presence to trap you right back into the storm raging in your nerves.

Mihawk begins to feel foggy and a bit delirious as he finally releases his pent up need in you, finally sates his ferocious hunger for your delicious touch, finally finds his comfort and peace stuck as close to you as he can possibly get. He makes a halfhearted attempt to bring his mind back to his body but is happily distracted by the aftershocks that jolt your body and flutter your cunt. They pull extra little spurts and groans from him each time and he’s defenseless to the contentment he feels following their slowing pace into the warm hover of affection that always envelops him after sharing bodies with you.

It takes a long time for either of you to actually come back to yourselves. The whole time you are afloat, you guide each other with trailing touches from limp but loving hands, quick kisses stolen between smoothing out your breath, and gentle squeezes in the embrace you keep on each other, needing those little moments where it's even more of a hug than a hold. Mihawk chases the touches that tease across the dips of his lower back or scratch up the back of his neck and across his scalp just a little bit more than the others. You feel too boneless to lean into almost any touch at the moment, but you do manage to roll your head to the side so you can gaze at your grandfather clock in the corner.

“I don’t think there’s time to make you presentable for them,” you sigh out with no real remorse. Mihawk is of a similar mind.

“Not my fault if those two don’t have anyone to take care of their needs,” Mihawk mumbles dryly. “Also not my problem if they’re mad I’ve had mine met.”

The laugh you give at his attitude earns you one of your favorite prizes: Mihawk’s lips making the slow curl then spread into a real smile. It is only topped when they close again to press a kiss in the shape of that smile on their resting place against your skin with enough love to reach straight through that skin and nurture every beat of your heart.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 6

Nikolai shares you.

cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, this is the darkest chapter so far, drugging, bad reaction to drugs, abuse, rape, choking,

Masterpost

Nik watched while you dressed, kept you between his knees while he sat on the edge of the bed. His hands rubbing up and down your thighs. He held your foot in his lap and helped you pull on your stockings. 

“I have something for you.” He rested his chin between your breasts and stared up at you. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. It was a diamond tennis necklace. Too many diamonds for you to count. He reached up and clasped it around your neck. It was heavy. You drew a finger across the stones. “It’s real. Don’t worry.”

“I…I’ve never had…thank you.” You’d never had fine jewelry like this. A pair of diamond studs when you were younger, long lost, but nothing like this. You couldn’t even fathom the price of it. It was beautiful but when he lifted it up to kiss your clavicle it began to feel more like a collar than a necklace. 

“Go finish getting ready. Wear that red lipstick.” He said.

“Kolya?” you asked, shifting your weight between your feet. 

“Yes?”

“Are you going to make me fuck John?” His name tasted bitter in your mouth. Anytime he touched you it made your stomach bile rise up your throat. 

Nik took your wrist and pressed his lips against the veins there, a fake apology. “You are going to do whatever I want you to do. He won’t hurt you.”

“It’s not about being hurt.”

“You can drink beforehand.” Your wrist fell limply at your side.

He kept his hand on your inner thigh almost the entire drive. Your head was tilted towards the window. There were even more holiday light displays than last time but it didn’t fill you with the same wonder as last time.

There was a time in your life when you wanted to be desired. You could hardly imagine it now, wanting nothing more than to lay in some brackish snow pile, letting cars splash salt and slush on top of you. Anything to be something he didn’t want. You could fight more, scream and hit. He was also a head taller with hands the size of your head. He’d kill you or worse in an instant. So you play the part of some sad wife being dragged to some dinner, easier to cope with than the reality that you were a sex slave being taken to some stranger as a present. Wearing clothes you didn’t own, next to a man you didn’t know. 

“You are my good girl.” He cupped your face. His smile scared you, teeth flashing like a dog’s snarl. “Let’s have a good night tonight, yes?”

It was a large club with music that made your head pound. You were escorted towards the upstairs private rooms. He let you rest your head on his shoulder on the elevator ride up. Your feet stuttered when the doors opened. You left your stomach and all your nerves back on the ground floor. Nik tugged on your wrist.

“I can’t. I can’t. Kolya, please. I… I don’t want to.” You were panting, eyes darting around as if there was a possibility of an escape. 

“Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your face.” He wiped his thumbs under your eyes, pressing a little too hard. He coaxed you out of the elevator and then pushed you up against a wall, wrists pinned by your head. “Do not embarrass me.”

“I don’t like him. Please don’t make me, Kolya. Please.” You tilted your head back and blinked away the tears. “He scares me.”

He pressed himself against you, compressing your chest painfully and growled into your ear, “I should scare you more.”

It was the end of the discussion.

The private room was red. Two modern red sofas, a dark red coffee table between them with red walls and floor and a mirrored ceiling. You took off your coat and draped it over the sofa. Nik pulled you around the sofa and forcibly sat you down before stalking off behind you.

The two of you were alone for now. You watched him through the mirror. There was tension in his shoulders, tension you caused. You scratched at the skin around your nails. This room felt evil. It was the mouth of some bigger monster and after Nik and John were through with you they’d leave you here to be digested. 

A hidden window opened on the side of the wall and Nik pulled two drinks from it. His usual whiskey on the rocks and something fruity for you. 

“Not yet.” he said when you went to take a sip. He sat beside you and pulled out a little plastic bag with white powder inside. Your stomach dropped. “Stop shaking. You don’t have to take it but it will make you feel better. Help you relax.” He mouthed at the skin behind your ear. “Might even have fun.”

“What is it?”

“Ketamine. Have you tried it before?”

“No.” You had been lucky enough to avoid drugs this past year. Alcohol, not so much. You never judged the girls who partook. It was tempting. It was just one of the things you avoided to try to hold on to some sliver of your past self. Ketamine wasn’t that bad, was it? You knew the general effects, one of which being you might not remember what happens tonight. 

“I’ll help you.” He finished his drink in one large gulp. 

He used his credit card to make a line of powder for you on the side of his hand. He held his it up for you.

“Go slow otherwise it will end up in your throat. Breath normally.” He used his other hand to plug your one nostril. “There we go.”

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Your nose scrunched as the powder stuck to something up there. It didn’t hit instantly like in the movies. It mostly just tickled. 

“If you need more, just tell me.” He licked the residue off his hand and rubbed his tongue across his upper gums. “C’mere.”

He pulled you into his lap and let you settle your back against his chest. He spread your legs apart with his thighs and ran his hands up and down your arms. 

“You might feel a little strange. Like you’re floating. Remember that I won’t let anything hurt you. No matter how you feel.” He was rubbing the inside of your thigh now. 

“When will I feel it?”

“Ten minutes or so. Relax.” You already felt a little mushy but that was more from the adrenaline drop than the ketamine. His hand was under your dress now, a ringed finger rubbing against your covered sex. Your drink found its way into your hand and he peppered kisses to your cheek with every little sip. “Getting wet for me?”

He pushed your panties to the side and dipped a finger inside you. Hushing you while you squirmed. You leaned your head back, tucking into his neck. His skin was warm and it had an all too familiar scent. His mouth hovered near your hairline. He always spoke in Russian when he worked you up. Let you imagine his words meant whatever you wanted, whatever you needed. 

Fantasy would get you through this. Let candy floss fill your head, pink and sweet, blocking out anything negative. As he stretched you open you felt your limbs get lighter. The arm around your waist was your anchor, keeping you on earth with him. You looked so far away up in that mirror. It didn’t feel like a mirror. You weren’t in your body anymore. You liked this feeling. Being an observer rather than a participant. Easier to watch than feel.

“Come back to me, Kotenok.” You clenched around his fingers, orgasm wrenched from your body while you arched against his grip. He kept you steady, pulling you back against his chest. You were warm and gooey, being held solid by his hands alone. “There we go.”

You were laid on your back across the couch while he got up. You closed your eyes and color flooded behind your lids, warm tones that reminded you of sunsets and candlelight. You raised your hands, trying to hold that light between your fingers. You heard Nik walking around and the door opening, two new voices entering your space. 

A hand grabbed yours. Not Nik’s, still large but lacked his rings. 

“Gorgeous as always. You always know where to get the prettiest ones.” Your head was lifted and then dropped into a lap, the hand holding yours resting on your chest between your breasts. John was staring down at you, beard grown out a little bit more but more groomed than last time. Nik was sitting across from you on the opposite couch, new drink in hand. 

You wondered if John could feel your heart rate rise, like a rabbit fighting to escape. You were a rabbit, already trapped in the mouth of a wolf. Nik was a man that could never be satiated, you knew that now. He could rip you apart, lick you clean and suck the marrow from your bones and be hungry for more. 

His and John’s words spun around your head without meaning. Your dress was hiked up and John had two fingers inside you. The bulge in Nik’s trousers was the only sign you were real and he was watching you. 

John was on top of you, the blunt end of his cock rubbing through your folds. Nik’s thumb found its way in your mouth, smearing more powder against your upper gums. He rubbed circles on the apples of your cheeks.

“Open.” You went slack jawed, mouth opening for him to slide his cock in. 

You lost track of it all. Who was inside you, how many times Nik gave you more ket, how many drinks they gave you. You weren’t in your body anymore. You weren’t in that room. You weren’t anywhere. Floating in some darkness with nothing to tether you. You thrashed and cried, pulling at skin you couldn’t find. You couldn’t feel your own breath. A dream you couldn’t escape from. Scream and scream. Arms flailing to find something solid. Oh god, oh god, oh god. It’d happened. You were being digested. He’d killed you. 

Gentle pats to your cheek. Your name was being called from the darkness. Your body was being jostled about. 

“Look at me. Open your eyes.” Bright light. “There we go. There she is. Look at me. Get her water. Had too much fun, did we?”

Nik had you in his arms. Sweat was beaded up on his forehead, strands of dark hair falling into his face. You could feel his heart pounding through his clothes. He was cradling you, keeping the hair out of your face as you returned to your body. 

“Drink. It’s just water.” Your arms felt heavy. 

“Gave us a little scare, love.” John chuckled, holding the glass up to your mouth. It was too cold, making the salt in your mouth more noticeable. “Drink it all.”

Nik kept a thumb against your inner wrist while he rocked you. John was putting his clothes back on.

“Want me to stay?”

“No, enjoy the rest of your night. You have a lot to celebrate, Captain.” Nik smiled at his friend. “I’m going to take her home. My doctor will meet us there.”

“She’s a pretty thing. Don’t break her quite yet.” He laughed before ruffling your hair. “Want to taste her again at least.”

Nik nodded and fixed your hair. 

It was quiet after John left. You couldn’t even hear the music from the main club anymore. Nik had you drink another glass of water. “You’ll be okay, Kotenok.”

He wrapped you in your coat before carrying you back downstairs. Buckled you in the car and tucked the fur around you like a blanket. 

“You did well. I might have overdone it.” He shrugged.

You blinked at him.

“I hate you.”

He didn’t respond. 

There was an IV in your arm and a pounding in your head. You were on the couch in the living room, fur coat laid over your body. Nik was sitting by your feet, wearing an undershirt and his trousers from the night before. He looked tired.

“How do you feel?”

“Don’t try to make yourself feel better.” You pushed yourself up to lean against the arm of the couch. 

“I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I was raped and drugged last night, Nikolai.”

“You wanted the drugs.”

“No argument against raping me?”

“You get paid.”

“No. No, I don’t. You pay Arno! I get nothing!” Your chest was heaving, lungs struggling to keep up with your anger. “Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I want this! I don’t want to fuck you! I don’t want to go to clubs or restaurant or wear these fucking clothes! I want my life back!”

You threw the coat at him, “I don’t want to assuage your guilt for refusing to admit you’re a fucking rapist!”

His hand shot out from his side and wrapped around your neck. The back of your head hit the arm of the couch. All your strength went to trying to force him off from on top of you. You grabbed his arm, scratching at him till he bled. 

“You think I don’t know what I am? I am a rapist. I am a murderer. I am a thief. You don’t make the kind of money I have by trying to make it up to a whore,” he hissed. He jiggled his chain in your face. “You’re this, an accessory, a cock sleeve. I can get a new one if you think you’re too good for it. What? You want to speak?”

He loosened his grip, you gulped up the oxygen, the spots in your vision slowly blinking away. 

“Fuck you! Kill me! Fucking kill me!” You shoved against his chest, the IV tearing out and leaving a trail of blood across the two of you, the couch and floor. “I hate you! Kill me! I know it’ll just turn you on!”

He grabbed your arm, squeezing hard to stem the bleeding. 

“I hate you! I hate you!” You kept screaming, taking swipes at his face. “I did everything you wanted! Why? Why! Why!”

He grabbed your throat, pushing you down to the couch till you were pinned. He didn’t squeeze, just held you there while he ripped part of his shirt to tie around your bleeding arm. He was muttering to himself in Russian. When the makeshift gauze was tied off he let go and got off of you. Blood trickled down his cheek from where your nails had caught him. 

“Don’t move!” He yelled at you, wiping the blood from his face. He closed his eyes, breathing hard. His jaw was tense. His eyes were dark when he looked at you. It was anger but also disappointment. He stormed out of the room. 

You could go crawling after, begging, showing your belly in submission. Let him do whatever he wants to make it up to him for your outburst. You wanted to feel him be gentle again, let yourself dive into the fantasy that he’d keep you safe. It just wasn’t something you could afford anymore. Your body hurt, your head hurt, your heart hurt. You almost wished you died last night. 

You picked your coat up off the floor and pulled it around your shoulders. If you tried to leave now, what was the worst he could do? Kill you? You trudged your way towards the white room. Nik was already waiting by the door. 

You knew from the look on his face.

“Kolya, no.” You shook your head. 

“I told you not to bite.” He opened the door.

Arno walked in. 

“Where’s my girl?”

[niki-phoria]

花樣年華

pairing: park sunghoon x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 912

notes: inspired by in the mood for love bc it's my fav movie, i'm not sure how much sense this makes if you haven't seen the movie lol, begging and pleading on my knees pls dm me if you also like bae173, this is barely proofread !! pls forgive any mistakes <33

the night is filled with the heavy pattering of rain and the flickering glow of streetlights. no matter how quickly you race along the sidewalk, you can’t seem to escape the raindrops falling from above. taking a sharp right, you turn into a nearby alleyway. 

the small awning you find shelter beneath is a familiar one. you had grown accustomed to it - the noise of ceramic dishes clattering against each other from the nearby restaurant; the stray cats that would occasionally pace around the dumpsters searching for food; the kisses you would steal in the night. the cover overhead shielded you from the prying eyes of others. it protected you from the weight of your own feelings. 

you sigh quietly as you begin staring into space. stray droplets splash back up from the asphalt and land on the tips of your shoes. the sound of puddles splashing accompanies PARK SUNGHOON’S heavy footsteps as he runs through the alleyway, only slowing down once he reaches your side. from the corner of your eye, you just barely catch the way he folds his umbrella back inwards before leaning it back against the wall beside you. 

for a moment you just stand there; your bodies are side by side as you listen to the comforting noise of the heavy rainfall. sunghoon folds and unfolds his hands anxiously. he opens his mouth and then closes it. his mind races with possibilities of what to say before he finally settles on, “it’s raining so hard.”

you hum quietly. “mrs. suen thinks it’ll be good for the crops.”

sunghoon takes a step closer. his eyebrows furrow slightly when he leans in. he tentatively rests his hand against your cheek, examining your features in the darkness. “what were you thinking?” he chuckles almost exasperatedly. “it’s cold out. you’ll get sick.” 

“i wasn’t planning on being out this late,” you shrug. “i only came to get some noodles.” 

sunghoon purses his lips. his shoulders falter, but his hand doesn’t fall from its place against your cheekbone. instead, he runs his thumb against your skin. silence hangs heavy in the air. for a moment, you’re not sure if he wants you to pull away. if you should. 

“thank you for meeting me,” he finally says. “i know it was short notice.” 

you nod. “what did you want to talk about?” 

“i think you already know,” he sighs. your stomach twists itself into knots when his hand falls away from your face. despite yourself, you frown softly at the lost warmth. sunghoon pushes a hand through his hair. he catches his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before he takes another deep breath. 

your throat feels uncomfortably dry. you swallow harshly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze once again. “i didn’t think you’d fall in love with me.”

sunghoon chuckles dryly. he looks down at the ground as he kicks a small pebble beneath his foot. “i didn’t either.” 

this time, the silence is unbearable. you wrap your arms around yourself, shifting uncomfortably. the night is cold. the rain makes it even colder. and now the weight of sunghoon’s words hang heavy in the air. 

“do you ever think about it?” he finally asks. sunghoon turns, finally meeting your gaze once again. for just a second, you swear you can see the glint of tears in his eyes. “being together?”

you purse your lips. amidst the indiscernible chatter coming from the nearby restaurant and the still-heavy rainfall, you murmur, “of course i do.” 

his hands curl into fists at his sides. he steps closer - so close that you can almost feel his breath ghosting against your face. sunghoon moves quickly. his hands cup your cheeks as he leans in until there are only centimeters between you. “i love you,” he whispers. “i love you. i want to be with you.” he pauses. his eyes shut as he takes a breath. “please tell me you want this too.” 

“sunghoon,” you find yourself moving without thinking. your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders. your heart beats erratically in your chest. “i love you too.” 

the man in front of you freezes for a moment. and then-

his lips meet yours in a flash. you get lost in the flurry of emotion. your fingertips tangle into the fabric of his jacket while his hands slide to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer. sunghoon’s lips feel soft against your own. you gasp when he nips at your bottom lip, making him chuckle in response. it’s hard to focus on anything but him. 

when you finally pull away, you’re breathless. your lungs burn in your chest and you feel a little dizzy. “was that okay?” sunghoon asks. 

“it was perfect.” 

sunghoon steps out from beneath the awning. raindrops slide down the slides of his sleek black umbrella in waves. he pauses, hesitates for a moment, and then turns to face you once again. the warmth of his hand contrasts against the otherwise frigid night. somehow, sunghoon’s body fits perfectly with your own. his fingers slide until your hands are intertwined. you follow his lead, stepping out from beneath the awning and joining him under the safety of his umbrella. 

sunghoon smiles brightly. he tucks you closer to him until you’re both huddled together. “are you ready to go?” 

“yeah,” you say softly. for the first time that night, you can’t hide your smile. you gently squeeze his hand as you nod. “let’s go home.” 

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[aurorawritestoescape]

ALWAYS AND FOREVER || 1,6k

post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel comes home after a hard day on patrol and you comfort him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, ANGST, m/f masturbation, mention of somno, mention of canon typical violence, mention of death. I chose not to include all the warnings so as not to spoil the fic.

A/n: written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. color: Joel’s denim shirt. genre: hurt/comfort. prompt: "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." Aly, you creative genius, thank you for hosting such a fun event! Also sending you kisses and hugs for the gif in my mb! Love you, baby!♥️ Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing the fic💕

MASTERLIST

*****

Joel stomps through the bedroom door, growling and mumbling obscenities under his breath. He’s tense, every nerve is an open wire, every unexpected sound makes him flinch and grit his teeth. He’s tired, lack of sleep painted his skin gray and his beard is all patchy. He looks like shit.

“What is it, Joel?” You ask sitting on your favorite spot on the bed, the left side, which is closer to the window and to the sun that is a rare sight in autumn here. Joel often laughed at you calling you a cat for your love to lie there, basking in the sunshine or napping. And you loved taking naps so much. When Ellie, Joel and you came to Jackson and settled, you couldn’t get enough of that sweet afternoon sleep.

Sometimes Joel would snuggle up to you, spooning your sleeping body, enveloping you like a big warm cloud. Many times you’d wake up to his lips moaning in your ear and his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy, your body already vibrating on the verge of climax. You loved it. You loved him and he loved you.

“What is it?” You sing the question, repeating it again. His frustration, annoyance, anger or whatever else that ruined his day is about to spill everywhere, staining every corner of this house, and you need to stop it, defuse the bomb that’s about to explode.

“Nothing,” he drops in your direction, not looking at you and you sigh. He untucks his flannel shirt and strides to the bathroom. He doesn’t wash his hands and face right away. His eyes are boring into his own reflection, hands gripping the sink until his knuckles whiten. Not being able to contain himself any longer, he roars and elbows the mirror, shattering it into pieces.

“You hurt?” You ask quietly, standing in the doorframe, hands clasped shyly in front of you. You’re wearing his denim shirt and panties, nothing else.

His head whips in your direction and there are tears in his beautiful brown eyes, bloodshot from his constant insomnia.

You furrow your brows and step into the little room. He raises his hands, trying to stop you from walking on the glass-littered floor but drops them, seeing your bare feet gracefully step between the remnants of the mirror.

When you’re close you look up into his pained face and put your palm on his elbow, the one he just jammed into the wall. He doesn’t flinch.

“Wash your hands and come to bed. Please,” you ask quietly and reach up to kiss his lips.

He does what you’ve asked him. He always did. He trusted you like no one else in this goddamn world. Maybe only Ellie and Tommy.

Joel sits on the bed next to you and you make him lie down, your hands applying light pressure on his tired shoulders.

He exhales feeling the frustration and rage leave his body already, bit by bit. He wants to pull you to him, hug you, kiss you but like a ray of sun you slip away from his fingers. He watches you get up and walk to the window.

His gaze catches the sway of your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from under his shirt and he already feels his jeans getting too restrictive for his stiffening cock.

“Pull it out,” you tell him, quiet dominance in your voice, after you turn around and perch your ass on the window sill. He looks at you with defiance at first, always ready to object, but your sweet smile makes his hands dart down to unzip his jeans. You pull down your panties and take them off.

The only thing you have on now is his old denim shirt, worn out and soft, the one you stole from him years ago. You’re unclasping it now, fingers quick and sure and he watches you, palming his throbbing cock through his boxers.

You leave the shirt open and he sees a valley between your breasts and your belly. He catches a glimpse of your pussy and takes a sharp breath.

“Pull it out, Joel,” you ask with a soft and sultry tone, the one that makes his cock twitch every time he hears it. His name on your lips is like a balm for his restless soul and he places it somewhere deep for later to use, to remember.

He finally pulls his boxers down and takes out his semi hard cock. You inhale deeply and give him a little smile.

“You’re so tense, Joel,” you purr, lifting on leg and placing your foot on the window pane, “Relax for me.”

Your pussy is exposed to him now and his hungry gaze latches on your blooming flower while he’s holding his breath.

“Play with yourself for me, sweetheart,” he pleads before spitting into his palm. He wraps it around his girthy cock and starts slowly moving it up and down.

Your hand resting on your inner thigh slides to your center and with two of your fingers you spread your folds to show him your glistening pussy.

“Hnggg,” Joel groans, bucking his hips and thrusting his cock into his own huge fist.

“Wanna taste you, baby,” he rasps, eyes pleading under the bushy eyebrows.

You shake your head lightly, giving him a warm smile and start rubbing your clit. Joel’s watching you and pumping his cock faster, the skin on his hand wet with precum, his moans accompanied by your soft whimpers. Your chest is heaving and the denim shirt opens up, exposing your breasts.

“Make yourself feel good, my love,” his voice is quiet and full of love.

The hand on your pussy gets busy, as you’re plunging your fingers into your crying hole and move them in and out with the rhythm of his cock fucking his tight fist.

The other hand kneads your breasts, tugs on your pebbled nipples.

His hungry gaze desperately darts between your face, tits, belly, pussy. The vision of you, weaved into the golden light from the window behind you, brings tears to his eyes. He wishes he could take a picture, draw you like this, capture this image and store it forever behind his eyelids. Joel grips his cock tighter at the base, delaying his release for a few moments. He’s getting drunk on the sight in front of him, insatiable and already thirsty for more.

Joel is happy to forget about everything for these few minutes, his mind occupied by your fingers being pushed deeper into your sweet cunt, your face twisted with pleasure, back arched and legs trembling. He can hear how wet your pussy is.

Soon a climax takes over you as you freeze for a second before waves of pleasure shake your body making you cry out his name only for his ears,

“Joel!”

He wishes you screamed it coming on his cock and his cum spurted deep inside your pussy instead of all over his belly and hand like his pulsating cock is doing now.

You sniff, eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and he smiles, recognizing your telltale sign of a satisfying orgasm.

“C’mere, crybaby,” he whispers with a tired smile, wiping his spilled cum with the hem of his shirt.

You’re next to him in a second, lying on your stomach, arms folded on his broad chest, your chin resting over them.

“My sweet girl.”

His gaze showers you with warmth and adoration, arms itching to hold you, lips - to kiss.

“What happened, Joel?” Your piercing eyes are searching for the answer in his face. He takes a deep breath looking up at the ceiling, trying to quiet the rage, rising from the pits of his stomach again.

“We were on patrol. Me and this new kid. Dumbass! I told him to be careful but the asshole didn’t wait for me… rushed into the house when I specifically told him to wait…Found him on the floor, fighting a clicker. Bastard was lucky I was there on time. Shot the damn thing just before it bit his fucking face off.”

“In that house?” You ask quietly and he nods.

You sigh and climb a little higher on the bed and plant a kiss on his weathered lips. He averts his eyes embarrassed by the smell of whiskey you must have noticed but you smile and cup his scruffy cheek.

“You saved him. I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He closes his eyes, comforted by the softness of your touch, by your praise and he feels his soul healing a little. But the memories flood his mind and a second later his serenity shutters again.

“Yeah, I did. I saved him,” he rasps looking deep into your eyes, “but I didn’t save you.”

A tear slides down his cheek and you kiss it away. You pepper kisses over his eyes, nose, lips and then search for his sad eyes and speak softly,

“You can’t save everyone, Joel.”

“I don’t give a shit about everyone,” he snaps, fire waking up behind his eyes again, “I care about you. And I fucking lost you.”

His eyes are pleading for a miracle, tracing your slightly blurry features, but you can’t make it happen.

“You didn’t lose me, Joel, I’m right here,” you purr against his cheek, before taking his face in your hands. Your love is so strong, Joel can swear he feels their warmth on his skin.

“It’s gonna be ok, Joel. You’re gonna be ok. You have people who love you. Ellie, Tommy. And you have me. Always will.”

Joel nods and wishes he could see you longer but the exhaustion takes over and soon he falls into deep relaxing sleep, lulled and comforted by the ghost of you.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed the fic. Your feedback motivates me so much!♥️

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover

If you’d like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[gay-dorito-dust]

Here’s a Jason idea for you: imagine a criminal he’s fighting as Red Hood suddenly mentions you, by name, to mess with Jason. Jay would absolutely obliterate the criminal, but that leaves the question of how his enemies know about you… I love the potential for angst/protective Jason 😍 Also, I love your writing so much, it always makes my day to see you on my feed! Thank you for sharing your writings 💞🥰

Tw: blood and violent stuff.

Also thank you for enjoying my stuff! It’s really appreciated and makes me wanna write a lot more in the future. It’s just nice being reminded that people do like the stuff that I put out and not hate it as much as I do when looking back on them.🤣 🦦

A well placed punch to the face landed the criminal flat on his back as he groaned upon impact and was currently struggling to get back up to his feet, only to be pinned by a heavy combat boot weighing down on his chest. Finally Jason had caught up with the drug dealer that had been lurking near children and vulnerable adults alike for the past couple of days, and right where he wanted him too.

‘It’s such a shame that you caught me as fast as you did RedHood because just you came along, I was going to pay one last person a visit before the night was over.’ The criminal smiled, showing off his blood stained teeth in the process, his smile then became a grimace as Jason put more of his weight onto his chest. ‘Well it was a good thing that i came when I did because after tonight, you won’t be selling drugs to anyone anymore, that I can guarantee.’ Jason growled, feeling his blood boil hotter for every second that he didn’t put a bullet in this assholes head.

‘What was their name?’ The criminal trailer off, not heading Jason’s warning and throwing his head back and laughing. ‘Oh right now I remember, it’s Y/n. What a pretty name for an even prettier person.’ Jason froze at the mention of your name, his blood had gone cold but his anger skyrocketed at the insinuation of you being placed in any sort of danger. Whether it be by a drug dealer or otherwise, the same conclusion was to be expected with Jason and that was that he would personally hunt down every last thug, drug dealer and crime lord that ever dared to speak your name.

Jason wordlessly then grabbed the criminal by the collar of his shirt and threw him into a wall with all his strength. Watching on as the scumbag crumpled the floor as he then began to stalk towards him before gradually breaking out into a run and brutally ramming his knee into the criminals head. Jason wasn’t done there though, not by a long shot. He wanted the make the bastard pay for having your name come out of his filthy mouth, he wanted to tear him limb from limb, put him back together again so that he could rip him limb from limb all over again before ever giving him the satisfaction of death.

‘You will never, ever, ever bring anyone to harm ever again! Not while I’m here, not while I’m still breathing and able bodied enough to tear you fuckers to bits!’ Jason hissed pure venom as each of his punches become more and more brutal then the last, his knuckles were going to bruise like hell and hurt like hell too, but the pain and punishment he’d receive would be all worthwhile if it meant keeping you safe and sound. Jason would gladly taken on any punishment anyone could throw at him if it meant you remained unscathed, he’d happily gain more scars on his body if it meant that you could sleep easier at night, Jason always had your best interests in mind whenever he was clearing the streets of Gotham.

He was doing it for you, he was doing it for the kids at Crime Alley, he was doing it so that everyone could have a peace of mind; And he didn’t care about the methods he took to obtaining that.

It wasn’t long until the criminal stopped moving all together, Jason didn’t care that his fists were stained with blood, he just stood up and left the criminal in the alleyway where he was brutally beaten to death and headed home; to you with a heavy mind and a growing pit within his stomach because if a low life scumbag like him knew you by name…then who else did? Black mask? Penguin? Two face? Scarecrow? Carmine Falcone? He didn’t like to think about this one but does Joker know? All these thoughts running through Jason’s head didn’t do him a whole lot of good with his ever growing sense of dread and slight paranoia; He had to get to you and he had to get to you now before anything else happened before the night ended.

‘I’m coming baby, just please still be there when I get home, please don’t let them take you away from me.’ Jason muttered under his breath as he pushed himself forward as he ran from rooftops to rooftop, determined to make it to the apartment before anyone else does because if they did, may god have mercy on their souls because Jason would go to war for you and will violently cut anyone down to size if they were to come between him and you; For nothing got between you and Jason and if they did, Jason would make sure to deal with it before it became more of a problem.

‘Sweetheart? Are you in here?’ Jason called as he slammed the door behind him.

‘Jason? What’s-‘ you rushed into the room and gasped upon seeing the dried blood on his knuckles and his paling face as though he looked about to pass out where he stood. ‘Oh my god.’ You whispered as you rushed towards Jason who rushed towards you, arms out stretched to grasp your waist while your hands held his face. ‘What happened out there? I thought you said it was a simple mission.’ You said, concerned for Jason as he seemingly let out a sigh of relief and rested his forehead against yours.

‘It was meant to be a simple mission but then…’

‘Then what?’ You asked, stroking his cheeks reassuringly and feeling him melt into your touch like he did every night he came home from a long patrol or mission, but he also did it when he needed to feel you on him after waking up from a nightmare.

‘He said your name chipmunk.’ Jason squeezed his eyes shut as though he was trying to rid himself of the events that happened early on and focus on the feeling of your thumbs caressing his cheeks lovingly instead. ‘He said your name -clear as day I heard him say it- and before I knew it I was wailing on him until he stopped moving…all because he said how he was going to come for you next and I couldn’t…’ Jason paused to regulate his breathing that he hadn’t noticed had become fast and uneven the more his mind lingered on that small detail. ‘I couldn’t let him do that. I won’t let them take you from me. Never.’ He then tightens his grip on your waist as he kept uttering the extent he was willing to go to keep you in his life under his breath, almost as though it were a prayer or a promise, which ever one it was you weren’t quite sure but you let Jason squeeze you against his chest with his strong arms like a stress toy to his hearts desire.

‘It’s okay Jaybirdie. I’m right here, can’t you feel my warmth? Hear my voice? I’m right here baby. So you can squeeze me, hold me, cuddle me as much as you need to feel alright again because I’m not going anywhere with my Jaybird.’ You said loud enough for him to hear over his thoughts, pressing kisses into anywhere that you had access to, whether it be his shoulders, face, neck, forehead, you’d plant several kisses to each of those areas respectively. You may act calm but much like Jason, you too didn’t like the idea of some random criminal knowing your name. The implications of that were endless and it would be enough to put anyone on edge or even over it depending on their mental state, and to put it lightly Jason’s mental state wasn’t the healthiest.

The occasional whimper and sniff that came from him only made your heart hurt even more that you were willing to put aside your own fears about the situation to instead focus on comforting Jason, who must be feeling it ten times worse then you were, but it was the fact that in this moment you were bonded by a shared fear but that fear could be eventually overcame by the pair of you working together. ‘It’s okay baby it’s okay, we’re not going anywhere, they can’t make us because we’re stronger together.’ You spoke into the skin of his cheek as you finished pressed a thousand kisses onto them.

‘Stronger together.’ Jason echoed as he pressed himself further against you to feel you closer to him. ‘We’re stronger together.’ You smiled softly, seeing that you finally go through to him somewhat. However you were more than willing to stand in this position all night if it meant bringing Jason back from the edge within his mind because nothing was more important than having your Jason back.

‘That’s right baby.’ You cooed. ‘We’re stronger together, nothing will tear us apart.’

‘Promise?’ Jason asked looking deep into your eyes, it felt as though he was looking at you rather then through you which has your breath hitching in your throat momentarily.

‘I promise.’

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Rest Had Seemed The Sweetest Thing.

Bucky's slowly learning that love isn't a finite resource. aka, Bucky's first Christmas.

pairing - bucky barnes x female reader

warnings - none!! just tooth rottingly sweet fluff <3

word count - 1.7k

author's note - based on these two requests!! i'm also trying a new post format... what do we think?? I promised you i'd get a couple of xmas fics out before the 25th... I lied. apologies!! forgive me. title taken from the poem The Owl by Edward Thomas.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

He whispers the words, timid and reserved, directly into your ear as if he's worried someone else will hear. It's only the two of you sat on the couch in your shared apartment, but Bucky's nervous.

Your head whips around in shock, trying to play it cool. Failed.

"Are you... are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

You grin, big and blinding, the beams of it radiating into Bucky's bones. It settles into his muscles, eases the tension from his shoulders.

You try not to make a big deal of it, try to keep your excitement under wraps. But you've been waiting for him to say those words for almost six years.

"I want to do Christmas this year."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

He hates the cold.

No, he's traumatised by the cold.

Years spent frozen, genetically modified and locked in a glorified freezer. Every gust of wind, every flake of snow reminds him of the darkest days with no light to be seen. His blood may run hot, but he feels like his heart is yet to thaw. He debates moving to the desert at least ten times a day.

Then he looks at you. How happy you are when winter comes around. The way your face lights up when it snows. And he figures that if it brings you this much joy... maybe he can tolerate it.

He bites back the chill, grits his teeth at the icy breeze, ignores the shudder of the cold all the way down to his bones. He grins and bears it, because you love it. He thinks you don't notice.

You do.

You've known ever since you met him. His demeanour changes when the winter comes around. He gets a little tentative around the autumn time, as if he's preparing himself for the worst. And then the first snow falls, and he's different. Guarded. Careful. Reluctant. He puts a fake smile on his face and pretends, but you're nothing if not completely in tune with everything Bucky Barnes.

You never asked, never pried. Just stood steadily by his side, regardless of the walls he'd placed around himself. Around his heart.

He broke down one night, wrapped up in bed with you. A chill had blown through your old apartments rickety windows and unearthed old memories, ice running into his veins. He was sure his tears were frozen as they dripped down his face.

You understood him better, since that day.

You've tried to suggest moving in subtle and not so subtle ways, but he won't have it. He knows this is your home. He knows you like it here. He knows he can stay, if he works a little harder on himself.

So, he tries. Every single day, he tries. And that's all that matters.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, so... ground rules. Hit me, Buck. We do this on your terms."

He thinks for a moment before turning to face you.

"I want it to be just us. No one else."

"Done."

"And I don't wanna do the whole Christmas dinner thing. Feels like too much all at once."

You fight the urge to burst into tears at how easily he's communicating with you, how effortlessly he's enforcing his boundaries. You've come a long way.

"Done. Agreed, by the way. Fuck Christmas dinner. We'll do our own thing."

He grins at you, leaning in to kiss you slowly, tenderly, leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world.

"I want to get a tree. And lights. We don't have to do all the ornaments and stuff, but lights would be nice."

"I have an artificial tree in the back of the storage closet... is that okay?"

"Perfect. I don't want to stand on all the pine needles, anyway."

Laughing, you shift closer to him, tangling your legs together on the couch.

"And no gifts for me."

"But Buck-"

"Angel. I don't want anything. I have everything I need sat next to me."

You roll your eyes, but you can't wipe the smile off your face.

"This isn't fair, suddenly."

"It's plenty fair. You stress too much when you buy gifts, and this is going to be a stress free Christmas. Understood?"

He hooks his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Understood," you whisper, swinging your knee over so you're straddling him. "Stress free."

Bucky tilts his head up to kiss you, gentle at first, then firmer when you roll your hips into his. He's a little distracted, admittedly. He got you to promise not to get him anything, but made sure you wouldn't ask the same. His mind runs a mile a minute, trying to wrack his brain on what kind of gift to get for the love of his life, the person that saved him and continues to save him every single day.

He comes up empty, but lets you kiss the thoughts away for a little while.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"My mom taught me this specific way to hang lights on your tree. Look, grab this end and I'll show you."

You're both still in your pyjamas, fire roaring, a jazzy Christmas melody playing from the radio. You decided you wouldn't put up your tree until the day before, to save Bucky from feeling overwhelmed. It's worked, so far - he looks plenty relaxed as he chuckles and rises from the armchair.

"You're tall, so hold this above your head so they don't tangle."

You work diligently, bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrate. Bucky's happy to watch you, fighting the smile off his face every time you sigh in exasperation. Eventually, you step back and admire your masterpiece, satisfied and content.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

He presses a kiss into your neck, then another, then another. Your eyes slip closed, and you sink into his embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever thought possible. You spend the evening by the fire, lying on the rug, room illuminated by the lights on the tree.

It's perfect in every way.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Merry Christmas, angel."

"Merry Christmas, Buck."

His hand finds yours under the duvet, pulling you in close. You tangle yourself around him like lights on a tree, all encompassed by his warmth.

"What's the plan for today, Sergeant?"

He presses a kiss into your temple, propping himself up on his elbow so he can see you properly.

"I say we make some breakfast, spend all day on the couch, and then maybe make some dinner? I know we said we wouldn't do a traditional Christmas dinner, but it'd still be nice to take the time to cook something."

"That sounds perfect."

In the kitchen, you make pancakes with copious amounts of maple syrup, strawberries and pieces of banana strewn across your plates.

"My Mom made us pancakes every Christmas morning, you know."

"You've never told me that."

"I know. I kind of refrained from ever talking about anything festive, because I didn't want you to feel guilty."

"For making you miss out for so many years?"

"I haven't missed out, baby. I chose not to do Christmas because I love you. And that love takes precedent over everything else."

Bucky kisses you then, across the kitchen table, full and golden and so full of love you almost fall off your chair. He tastes like blueberry jam and syrup and coffee, and you wish you could bottle it up and stick a little under your tongue when you get homesick.

"What changed?"

"Hmm?"

"Why now? I would have been content to never do Christmas again, if it made you happy."

"Because I realised something, a couple of months ago. We were sat in the park, and you were laughing at that dog chasing the boomerang. The sun was making you glow, like some sort of angel, and I just knew. I can do anything with you by my side. I can't put my future on hold because of my past."

You're fighting back tears as you look at him, so happy and content. You never thought this was possible, when you first met him.

And here you are.

Celebrating Christmas, showing him your childhood traditions, making pancakes like your Mama used to. You're sat at the kitchen table as the snow falls outside and the warmth that Bucky's love brings is keeping the chill at bay.

It doesn't get better than this.

"I got you something," he murmurs almost sheepishly.

"Bucky-"

"Don't yell at me! I know it makes me a hypocrite, I know I said no gifts, I know."

You roll your eyes, but watch his every move as he gets up and leaves the room. You finish your breakfast and put both of your plates in the sink, turning on the tap so they can soak. When you turn around, Bucky has returned.

He's on one knee.

There's a ring between his fingers, glinting in the winter sun. You're both still in your pyjamas, warm and full, not quite having shaken off the heavy embrace of sleep just yet.

It's perfect.

"Maybe it's cliche to propose on Christmas day, but... I want to replace all of my old memories with new ones. Memories like this."

You walk over to him, kneeling down in front of him so your eyes are level.

"You've taught me what love is, baby. And I can never repay you for that. But I can certainly try. Every day, I can try."

There are tears dripping down both of your cheeks, Bucky's grin matching yours. The two of you are overwhelmed in the best way, unsure of how to process the gravity of what you're feeling.

"Marry me, baby. Let's do this forever."

You lunge forward and smash your lips to his, laughing into his mouth.

"Yes," you breathe when you pull away. "God, yes. A million times yes, Buck."

His arms wrap around your middle as he picks you up, twirling you in circles around the kitchen, both of you shrieking with joy.

Bucky slips the ring onto your finger when he puts you down, both of you tilting your heads to admire it.

"I love you," you murmur, leaning up to press your foreheads together. "The cold can't touch you now, baby. This love will warm us forever."

The cold can't touch him now. Love will warm him forever.

@lizzystuffsthings <3

[cheollipop]

Ok why is this San…https://twitter.com/intimatespaces/status/1669599909702402049?s=20

Idk but I feel like San the type to go feral and fuck you at crazy speed and overstimulate you and see you squirm and he get off it. Love to teach a lesson but also praising and degrade you all the same time?!

(Sorry on my english)

nsfw link

your english is just fine love <3 (pretending I didn't punch a wall and howl when I first saw this)—thank you for giving me a reason to write jealous san~

nsfw under cut—minors dni!!

you moved with san's heaving chest—your body stuck to his with a mixture of sweat and your head rolled back to rest over his shoulder. his arm firm around your waist, his other hand reached to grab your jaw, angling your head sideways to meet your eyes.

"what are you thinking about, sweetheart?"

he was mocking you, you could tell. his voice lowered an octave and his eyebrows furrowed in faux concern. you didn't need a mirror to invision your appearance—eyes rolling back with every lurch of his hips, drool and tears coursing down the sides of your face, lips bitten and swollen from san's torturous nibbles. you barely registered the question, partly due to the loud reverberation of san's thighs slapping against yours, pounding his cock into you ruthlessly. your mind hazed in a thick fog of pleasure, you babbled uselessly— repetitions of his name broken up by pathetic whimpers.

"you were all over yunho earlier, but you're screaming my name now, aren't you, darling?" He cooed, brushing your hair off your forehead to press a kiss to your temple.

his hips ground languidly into your sopping cunt, the smooth glide of his cock between your walls sending you over the edge for the third time that night.

"how many times was that?" he rasped into your ear, your thighs trembling violently and shutting around the hand san sneaked between them.

"w-wait-"

"don't wanna," he peppered kisses to the side of your head, pushing your legs apart once again and hooking them over his thighs, hammering his cock into you and fucking you through the overstimulation. "my sweet girl wanted to be a slut for the day, so I'm gonna treat her like one." three fingers landed a firm slap on your clit, then another, feeling a coy smile against the skin of your neck before they began moving over the sensitive nub, flicking it back and forth while you writhed atop of san's body. "you didn't answer my question, slut. how many times was that?"

your body jerked away from him and—with a broken cry—rolled sideways. "three- f-four!" you shuddered against his chest, the press of his cockhead into your g-spot hurling you into another orgasm. "sannie, I-I can't!" you grabbed a fistful of the sheets by your head, your other hand drawing thin crescents over san's knuckles where they held onto your waist, his cock relentless as it continued to piston into you.

"you can take it," he slotted his thighs behind yours, the hand on your waist slipping down to hold your hips, squeezing the flesh to spread you open for him. he started with a slow grind, sheathing his length inside your overstimulated cunt and groaning into the crook of your neck. "my good girl wants sannie's cum, doesn't she?"

it hurt when you swallowed the drool pooling in your mouth, your throat scratchy and dry from the moans san ripped out of you. you nodded frantically, pushing your hips back into him, your walls clenching uncontrollably around his cock. "w-want it, please."

"of course you do," he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, moving back to lick over the marks he left behind. "my little slut wants her pussy filled to the brim, doesn't she? until she's dripping cum everywhere," he chuckled wryly, angling his cockhead just right and returning to his relentless pace.

his rhythm grew desperate, cock twitching between your fluttering walls and profanities slipping off his tongue as he chased his high. elongated chants of his name escaped through your gritted teeth while you begged him to cum, your nerves on fire as he worked them to their limit with skilled drives into your dripping cunt. he came with a guttural groan, the arm around your waist bringing you impossibly closer to him as he emptied his load inside you, hot ribbons of white shooting deep inside you and, once again, pushing you over the edge.

"fuck," san shuddered behind you, holding onto your hip while his other arm slid beneath you and over your chest. "such a good girl for me," a firm thrust to stuff his length into your used hole, "all mine to use," and another as he shot the last of his load inside. he smoothed a hand over your sides, soothing the violent spasms shaking your body, your walls clenching around his softening cock as you came down from your high.

a proud smile tugged the corners of san's lips upwards, a breathy mutter muffled over your shoulder, "five."

[yandere-daydreams]

omg i hope all goes well with your kidneys!!! sending well-wishes 😭💗

as for miguel thirsts: mentions of dubcon, noncon, edging, overstimulation, abnormal uses of webbing, fangs, and venom, vague kidnapping reference(?)

1) him going after an anomaly! darling, and instead of doing the usual ‘catch and release’ back to their original world, he just .. keeps them at hq. initially it’s just for observation, but over time he just gets closer and closer (“for research!” he tells himself), and one day, he finds himself moving their cell into his monitor room (“for observation!” he tells himself). so far, he’s been able to keep the fact that he jerks himself off to their presence quiet. he just doesn’t know how long it’ll take for him to want more.

2) i’m also thinking of some kinda predator/prey dynamic where there’s a chase scene where it does end up with him tackling darling down to the ground (he does put his hand around their head so they aren’t concussed when their body hits the ground <з). he accidentally does the knee thing and then just rolls with it, and that’s what kickstarts the fucking. is very much so like “why are you squirming?” while Very Much Knowing what he’s doing.

(he does probably put his fangs around their neck at some point just bc i think that’s super hot of him to do.)

^ also may i please add - edging while you’re paralyzed where he does the whole “i’m not hearing you say please” and is just edging for hours on end, or the same concept but with dubcon overstimulation, “i’m not hearing you say stop” while giving you the nth orgasm of the night and tears roll down your cheeks.)

3) the third thirst of him that’s been bouncing around my head like a horny version of the window’s screensaver is essentially the noncon hate-fucking version of #2; you’re fighting about something ultimately unimportant, and at some point it transitions from just slinging words to each other to physical fighting [yes he does chokeslam you against a wall a la train scene] and now you’ve got nowhere to run (maybe somehow webbing got involved and you’re stuck to the wall, essentially at his mercy)

tw - spiderverse spoilers, non///con, imprisonment, obsessive behavior.

sjkfdsjsdkfdklfj combining all of these in my head for a scenario wherein miguel captures an anomaly who, while not dangerous enough to be locked away indefinitely, isn't the kind of upstanding citizen who'd be sent home immediately. you don't manage to hurt him, but you waste enough of his time to earn a second glance every time he passes your holographic cell, a nearly imperceptible half-smirk every time he gets a chance to push your name just a little further down their ever-growing list. eventually, after some 'if you like the new anomaly so much why don't you marry them'-esque probing from lyla, your containment chamber is moved into his personal lab, and y'know, exposure breeds familiarity, familiarity breeds affection, and affection for someone like miguel breeds obsession, whether or not you see him as anything but the creepy, cyber-punk spiderman who likes to leer outside of your cell for a few minutes every day.

so, when there's a minute-long power outage and you get a chance to put as much distance as you can between you and the man that doesn't know you've seen him palming himself through his suit outside your cell when he thought you were asleep, you take it. of course, miguel's on you in a second and of course, it only takes him a few minutes to chase you into the unpopulated sub-levels of his spider society, to dig his teeth into your neck and leave you paralyzed but very awake and very aware that you're at his mercy. it was a mistake to get his adrenaline going, to spark his aggression then try to smother it before he's really had a chance to burn. you should be thankful that he uses his webbing to bind your hands rather than breaking your wrists, that he only wraps your fist around your neck rather than crushing your windpipe underneath his heel, that he chooses to edge you on until you're begging him to fuck you as roughly as he's been dying to for weeks. when he's done, you don't get taken back to his lab, but to his claustrophobic apartment, and you aren't put back into a cell, but into a collar - to stop you from glitching without letting you so much as hope that you'll ever be able to leave his dimension.

without letting you hope you'll ever be able to leave him.

[acidblum]

— Яitual ²

Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Vampire!Reader (w/c: 2.5k)

DO NOT BUY TLOU

AO3 PART ¹/SERIES MAS.

⚠︎ WARNINGS +18 MINORS/MEN DNI, blood consumption, angst (kinda), mentions of infidelity, backstory chapter in a way, less dialogue, less ellie, vampire!abby anderson, references, sex, death, weapons, mentions of religion no mentions of readers skin colour or hair texture.

ⓘ A/N: i’m so sorry pretty people the second part is coming out this late :(, luv yall pls enjoy and share with me your thoughts and ideas about our cuckoo gals<3 also if there's any warning i failed to mention tell me.

The two infamous covens, a divine picture drawn to the naked eye, a unity, somewhere you could belong-at least that’s what they told everyone when they preached their sermons. Although the consequences included losing your soul for a higher connection..some might claim it was worth it.

All the pain and all the agony started with Selene for Aaron questioned why she bit into the snake when she was asked to not give into the temptation by Kanchelsis—the god of the underworld. It wasn't the apple hanging high from up the tree she was after, she had her eyes set on the shimmering green snake, she smelled the blood and tasted the flesh before she even pierced her canines into the flailing reptile.

What everyone failed to know is that the highest mother was carrying a child when she started feeding on her mortal dutiful husband for he was the only one she was allowed to feed on—as demanded by kanchelsis. bringing forth the mankind of vampires and the formation of the first ever coven to go down in the books, The Ancients. They were and still are known for their reserved nature, never seeking or raising their children to be anything other than thankful and graceful with the humankind.

Selene’s pregnancy went as smooth as it could but it was naught without losses, it seemed that her feeding off of her husband wasn’t the safest option for she killed him whilst giving birth in a moment of utter fury, she sat in the water tub in total shock and distress whilst she was encouraged to push by her maker and the servants surrounding her thrashing body in a circle

Tears well up in her eyes “i cannot bear his child..orphaned, i beg of you my lord”

He ignores her pleas, focusing on the task at hand of making her deliver a healthy child. “Push my lady” squeezing her hand in his long clawed one, her agonizing scream reverberating off the walls of the chamber and into the dark night, awakening all types of demons and creatures alike.

“I can see this head! Come on push my highest mother! Push” the shrill cries of the fragile babe with the tiniest of canines for teeth can be heard by everyone in the chamber prompting them to sigh in relief including the mother who is drenched in sweat with red emerald tears streaming down her face.

and it flew right over their heads, the intensity this child could bring and what his uproar did. Elijah grew into the most rebellious vampire known all over the world, word got out that he is a wanted man for being the deadliest of the whole lineage. That's when the second and last coven was made, in the First Republic of France.

They call themselves the La Brumes, 10 vampires always gloating about their agility and power to vanish through thin air, facing no consequences whatsoever regarding their relation to the french revolution. Elijah made sure to be close to every nobility he could ever get to know including Louis XVI. It is heard around the streets of good ol France that Louis died at the hand of a creature that tore him apart and threw him all around his humble abode..in pieces might i add. And of course the servants and whoever found his pieces had to say that he was found dead in his bed.

He rebelled against his mother Selene and shunned her to a locked palace under an alias. putting her on trial simply for refusing his request to turn even more mortals into vampires around the world—talking all about the “tremendous power” it’ll give the covens. With the help of Kanchelsis, he ensured the highest and the mother of his kind doesn’t see the sun ever again. Stupid was he for he still yet has to face you.

𓃭

The candle lit room seemed to have seen better days, clothes and undergarments strewn all over the floor and around, where your naked form is laying on the lounge chair with nothing covering your lower intimate area but a light satin shawl.

Your observer for the day who is just as equally naked as you was your companion, or maybe lover? Not quite that..even though the both of you were really really close and she was one of the few people who managed to give you a bone thrashing orgasm. not to forget that the entanglements among the coven's members were a bit frowned upon by the higher ups—and all you replied with after making love to her was..fuck the higher ups, your coven or hers can suck it just how she does on a sunday morning.

“What ails your mind now? Do we need to go for a third round??” she questions, chuckling when you snort from your place with your arm under your head. “Now wouldn’t you love that Anderson?” you ask with a raised eyebrow.

You shrug “and let’s not get this twisted, I'm always the one that dominates you.”

she tuts with a sly smile etched on her cheeks “you read me like an open book mon cher” her brush cladded hand moving in calculated strokes against the canvas, focusing on painting your crimson glinting irises.

A smug look graces your face before you exclaim. “But we’re not lovers Abigail..remember?”

she shakes her head “And do you ever let me forget”

Abigail Anderson, the history you’ve had with her extends far back into your teenagehood, when her dad was your dad’s right hand. At first she saw you as a very smug, fragile, mommy dearest type of person, waltzing around in her mothers french garden with your Ted Lapidus glasses on and a red scarf that compliments your eyes around your neck, your figure cladded in a black on black suit. you’ve kept to yourself that day—until your younger brother decided it was a good day to throw you into the Anderson’s gigantic fish pool.

and oh boy was she ready to dunk in and save your poor self from the little fishies. holding your body close to hers where she was wearing a white simple shirt with nothing underneath and some grey trousers, her nipples hardening against the shirt and her eyes never leaving yours—the intensity of her stare definitely left you aching for something more.

she carries you out where your brother snickers and laughs at your sticky and wet form with a nod. shooting him a death glare, eyes shining in pure red, he closes his mouth not uttering a word when you pass him by the door with the water dripping down your back and forming a trail behind you.

“Good luck sister” he whispers.

that day she lent you her clothes—you never returned them. which was a little bit big on your frame. “Hopefully the stench will come out when you shower, there’s a towel behind the door for you, and plenty of hot water.”

“oh you’re not coming with?” you ask, feigning innocence.

she chuckles in amusement, fangs shining underneath her pink luscious lips. taking two steps towards you. “I don't think you’re ready for this” cold icy hand reaching to cradle your equally cold chin, she rubs it once before walking out of the door, leaving you to watch her wet shirt cladded back retort into the hallway.

“you know i really wanted you” you look up at her with glossy eyes and a downturned smile. prompting her hands movement on the canvas to pause, her back going rigid from her place in front of the aisle. shaking her head, inhaling hard “you know i would’ve never been able to hold you down”

you snorted in mockery “oh yeah i was the literal face of Studio 54 wasn’t i? Still I wouldn't have minded if you showed me around instead of gawking from the other side of the dance floor.” a manic laugh spurts out of you uncontrollably “i’ve searched for your face in every mortal i could find..man or woman, i wanted them big, hard, french with a mean streak..but they never were all of that. They were never that perfect, not like you at least.”

standing up, she rests the palette and the brush on the stool beside her. stretching out her back you can hear a few cracks bellow in defiance. walking up to you in slow calculated steps before kneeling down to your level, her big body creating a shadow that looked like it could engulf yours.

“and how can I make it up to you..hm?”

“Does anyone in your coven even know that you’re here? Your partner??” a look of disdain..confusion crossing your face when she holds out the palm of your hand to her lips, light feathery kiss after the other getting plastered all over your lightly held arm. Holding her dead stare you make no effort of moving or reciprocating her advances.

“Isn’t mommy dearest gonna get upset if she knows that i've been between these lush thighs for years?? Day in and night out you’ll have me right here, ravishing you and getting ravished by you and your heavenly sex” she points out looking up at you from her kneeling spot, a vision of art that she is, maybe you should’ve been the one who made her pose for you, you’ll probably end up hanging the portrait on the wall facing your bed..and maybe using it to relieve yourself while you whisper her name, knowing that she can hear you even with thousands of miles between the both of you.

“Bite me” a knowing look crosses her face, almost proud before she does exactly that without uttering any other words. Sinking her teeth into your forearm gulping down your sweet blood, abby’s loud throaty sounds and her humming into your skin sends pure vibrations urging your back to arch in immense pleasure. “Do you know the amount of people who’d love for me to tell them that? Bite me?” you push her teeth off with a low snarl. blood gushing and then trickling down your forearm, the veins around your eyes more prominent than ever.

Sparing her a scrutinizing look while you rise to your feet, the shawl sliding down your body and onto the floor beside her thigh. “And yet you’re the one asking your supposedly sworn enemy to do it” she retorts.

You can’t help but snicker at her whilst you put on your robe “says the one sitting knees down on my floor like a good kitten” words spitting out of your mouth like venom you failed to notice that in a fast whiff of air she appears in front of you, nails digging into your waist, the shine of her eyes speaking a foreign language to you, nose flaring uncontrollably with a lustful look gracing her face. She bites into your neck after a low growl, taking slow calculated strides until your back hits the wall of your room in a loud thud, swallowing your soft moan.

𓃭

“I need my sister gone”

“Here we fucking go again, i told you i am not that capable, i can’t kill your sister. Can’t you find a Cerbera Odollam stake or whatever your kind uses to kill each other and pierce it through her heart if the idea of her walking amongst the living haunts you still? It’s been two decades and you won’t let it rest.”

Not liking what she was hearing—the harsh and painful truth from her dear witch friend she mutters. “Your great grandmother did it once on my deranged uncle”

“You said it..deranged, your dear sister is eccentric..but not like him, he went on a killing rampage and it’s literally written down in history which was exactly what he dreamt of achieving and your coven gave it to him on a golden platter when your dad wrote a ‘fictional book’ about him”

Before getting executed by order of the two covens. Your uncle, David, claimed he saw god and that the almighty asked him to form a cult, your mother tried talking him out of it but it just resulted in him killing nearly ten vampires of which are his own including his own child and thousands of humans without hiding his tracks well. He wrote in blood on every concrete wall in the streets of every country he ever stepped foot on including Persia ‘if we burn you burn with us’.

A hunt had to be put in place for him, you were the one who brought him in, bruised and hungry. “I’m sorry uncle but you gave us no choice, who do you think you are? The prophet? What. a. Joke.” a baseball bat wrapped in silver wire swinging left and right in your hand, taking calculated steps towards him.

He was dragging himself on the wet muddy ground, clothes torn, hair matted with blood, reciting verses upon verses in prayer. A sight for sore eyes. not even bearing you a look, the poor man was trying to save himself. little did he know that in front of him was you. “have mercy on me, niece! the lord will save us all through my body”

you look around “i don’t see him saving you right now”

“b-but he is with us! i can see h-“ not taking your chances you swing the bat right at the side of his head, silver wires piercing his skull, hard enough to hurt but not enough to kill his immortal corpse. “Now you’ll get to meet the lord and have some tea together. tell him i said hello.”

𓃭

Ellie’s sleepless nights persisted after that dream she had, rehearsing, eating and writing for their new album had one being in mind…she thought it was very childish, but she couldn’t shake off the presence of it, of her, the vampire.

something she never believed in and never will—that’s what she keeps telling herself. in her young years she and her sister alongside their dad used to watch horror movies of which involved vampires and other monsters. Sarah would cling to their dad whilst Ellie would snicker at her older sister.

“you’re such a pussy”

“language Ellie” Joel would retort without a glance making her sister stick her tongue out from her place cuddled up against Joel. “tch it’s not even that scary..these types of things don’t even exist and if they did they’ll get killed in seconds in the sun” she shrugs.

Ellie continued with conveying her distaste about the paranormal, even when people started accusing them of selling their soul to the devil over their written lyrics and sudden spring into the metal and nu metal scene. interviewers found it funny and had to bring it up every. single. time. she was extremely fed up, she'd nod and and shrug cause why was it surprising that a so called satanist didn't believe in all of that??.

Dina on the other side leaned into it, often times than not taking weird pictures with a drawing of 'punk jesus' that she made, facing extreme backlash on her socials while Jesse posted verses about kindness—their PR team never catches a break that's for certain.

taglist🗞️: @winkybun

© 2024 acidblum, All Rights Reserved.

[toomuchracket]

bump in the night (dad!matty x reader fluff)

baby phoebe thinks there's a monster under her bed. matty to the rescue! once again, promptober. enjoy <3

“dad… dad, wake up.”

the owner of the worried voice shoves his shoulder, and matty jerks awake. disoriented, he fumbles for the switch on the bedside lamp; when he finds it, he also finds dylan standing beside him, eyes wide and teeth chewing at her bottom lip. “dyl?” he clears his throat, voice scratchy. “what is it, darling?”

“it's phoebe. she won't stop crying,” her jaw is trembling, a clear sign that she's anxious. matty reaches for her hand, and she seems to calm down slightly. “me and elena both tried to calm her down, but she just keeps sobbing for you and mum. don't know what else to do, dad.”

terror pierces him, the kind of fear that only sets in when you or your daughters are concerned - the worst kind, it goes without saying. extracting his right arm from your still-sleeping hold as inconspicuously as possible, matty pulls himself out of bed, reassuring his eldest before he goes to help his youngest. “you did the right thing, dyl,” he pulls her into a hug, kissing her sleep-messy curls. “is pheebs saying she's not feeling well, or…?”

“no, she just keeps crying and saying she wants you and mum. she calmed down a little bit when lena and i went in, but not a lot.”

“okay,” he rubs his eyes, taking dylan's hand. “lead the way.”

it's only a few steps across the landing and down the hall to phoebe's room, but the worry makes it seem far longer. a wave of relief washes over matty when he and dylan make it through the door, but it's short-lived - his three-year-old is shaking in her big sister’s arms, the flush on her tear-stained cheeks evident in the glow from the nightlight, and elena looks on the verge of tears too. “oh, my darlings,” he coos softly, kneeling at the side of phoebe's bed. “what's wrong?”

phoebe practically throws herself into his arms, tiny body wrapping itself around his. hot tears dampen his t-shirt, and matty can feel his own eyes welling up. he's sick to his stomach when any of his girls are upset, but his youngest is so especially sweet and smiley that her sadness seems to hurt him just that little bit more. “phoebe, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “please tell daddy why you're crying, yeah? deep breaths, munchkin, copy me,” he inhales deeply, and exhales slowly. “can you do that?”

she copies him shakily, while elena crawls to sit on the edge of the bed in front of him; even at seven, her legs still don't reach the ground, dangling endearingly instead. “i think she's scared, dad.”

“alright, darling, thank you,” he smiles at his middle baby, who returns it sleepily. “you two can go back to bed, if you like. thank you for helping your sister, my sweet girls.”

they shake their heads in vehement denial, dylan moving to join her sister on the edge of the bed. “not leaving until phoebe's okay.”

“you sure? you'll be tired tomorrow.”

elena shrugs, matty in miniature. “doesn't matter. our sister’s more important.”

matty's eyes actually do fill with tears at that - how on earth did you and him manage to create such perfect, kind humans? it's baffling. “alright, darlings,” he nods, before turning his attention to phoebe. “did you have a bad dream, sweetheart?”

tiny curls brush his neck as she shakes her head. “uh-uh.”

“okay. was there a big noise outside? foxes, or a car, or people shouting? that can be really scary, especially if it wakes you up.”

another head shake. “in here.”

now we're getting somewhere. “there was a scary noise in your bedroom, munchkin?”

“yeah,” phoebe's little voice shakes, turning to a sob when she speaks again. “like… like a monster!”

“where exactly, darling?”

“the- the wall,” she hiccups; matty softly rubs her back to calm her down. “and under my bed.”

interesting. monsters under the bed aren't exactly uncommon, but in the wall? maybe phoebe's imagination is stronger than you all thought.

or maybe… “what kind of thing did it sound like, sweetheart? can you remember?”

she thinks for a second, wiping her eyes on the shoulder of his t-shirt. “like when my tummy is hungry.”

“rumbling? why would it be… oh,” the answer clicks in matty's brain, the logistics of the house's layout revealing it to him: phoebe's bedroom is directly above the utility room, so - “it isn't a monster, my darling, it's just the central heating.”

dylan lets out a soft “ahhh” of realisation, but elena looks puzzled - when phoebe moves to look at matty, so does she. “the heating?”

“yes, munchkin. it's what makes the house cosy, and makes sure we have hot water for our showers and baths-”

“and washing our hands?”

he smiles. “exactly, my smart girl. but it all starts from that cupboard near the washing machine, and then it travels through the pipes up through your room, and into the rest of the rooms. that's what the noise is, darling. not a monster.”

phoebe sniffles. “really?”

“would you like me to check under the bed anyway?”

“mhmm.”

“alright,” he kisses her head, settling phoebe between her sisters on the bed and ducking down to scan under the bed; his back practically screams at him not to, but he can't disappoint his baby girl. “all clear down here, girls. not even a speck of dust,” popping back up, he takes phoebe's tiny hands in his own. “do you feel a bit better now, munchkin?”

“yeah,” she nods. “but the noise is scary.”

matty can't blame her for that - the bed is right against the wall with the pipework, and she's only three. it's a lot. “tell you what, darling - you come in with mummy and me, just for tonight, and tomorrow we can rearrange your room so the noise isn't as loud, yeah?”

“‘kay.”

phoebe rubs her eyes. matty smiles, scooping her into his arms again - smiling even wider at the way she melts into him - and stands, nodding at his older two. “come on, my girls. back to bed.”

the four of them trudge out onto the landing, exchanging goodnights and head kisses. matty gives dylan and elena an extra hair ruffle each. “thank you for looking after your sister, girls. lie-in tomorrow, alright?”

“mhmm. night!”

“night, dad! night, pheebs!”

two bedroom doors close, and matty carries phoebe towards the last slightly open one; behind it, you're half-asleep, but quickly awakened by the sound of matty's footsteps and, ironically, his hushed “don't wake mummy, sweetheart, alright?” to the little one in his arms. he sighs when you turn to face him, sitting up slowly and flicking the light on. “baby? what's going on?” rubbing your eyes, you notice phoebe. “oh, hi, my darling. you alright?”

“she is now,” matty sets phoebe on the bed; she crawls to you for a cuddle immediately. “but she's staying with us tonight, and i'm spending my saturday rearranging her bedroom.”

“oh, okay,” you raise a brow. “do i want to know?”

“i'll explain tomorrow,” matty flops onto the bed, flicking the light out, suddenly tired. “right now, i think we all just need to get some sleep.”

“alright,” you lean over to kiss him, dropping one onto a now-sleeping phoebe's head for good measure. “goodnight, my loves.”

matty strokes your face, and then your tiniest girl's. “goodnight, darlings.”

[thatacotargirl]

Hiii, I saw your posts about taking requests! (loving Shadows and Surprises btw 👏)

How about a nice fluffy one-shot (take your pick of the bat-boys 😊) where reader wakes up on her cycle with bloody sheets and bad cramps, and she starts apologising about the sheets but she's in a lot of pain, but he immediately takes care of her and pampers her (changes sheets, runs her a bath, gives tea and chocolate, lots of cuddles and kisses, etc)

Ahhh I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much for the request - I hope enjoy!

Inbox is open for requests so please do send any through!

Warnings: blood, vomit, general pain (?)

To the Ends of the Earth

A Cassian x Reader Imagine

It had been a few months since Rhysand had introduced you to his Inner Circle. What started off as a small part-time job working on his accounts and book-keeping turned into a full-time lifestyle. After the first 2 weeks of proving yourself invaluable to him and his Court, Rhys invited you to move into the House of Wind and work alongside him full-time. Your tiny studio apartment with mould, rats, and goodness knows what else inside the walls was not the most luxurious of lifestyles, and you had already grown so attached to the rest of the Inner Circle that you jumped at the opportunity. It also helped that you had developed a teeny tiny crush on the delicious male that was Cassian, so living in the same home as him made life just that little bit sweeter.

Life had, truthfully, never been better.

Yet today, you felt sluggish. Tired. Frustrated. And what made it worse was that you had no reason to feel that way. You had slept well, eaten well, trained that morning - you should be at the peak of your health. But today was finding every possible way to challenge you. After confusing an 8 for a 3 for the third time that afternoon, you threw your pen across the study in complete exasperation. What was going on!

At that moment, the study door cracked on a touch, and the familiar scent of Cassian wafted in.

"Are you ok in here y/n? I heard a bang?". A bang was an understatement considering you had chucked a gigantic book on the floor in your frustration that near shook the House.

"Yes I am fine" you replied through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at him. You had tears in your eyes for reasons you could not explain, and you didn't want him to see you like that. Why on earth were you now crying over a 3?!

Cassian walked over to you and gently held your chin, pulling your face to look at him. You breathed in his scent, feeling an instant calm, and took a deep breath. When your eyes met his, Cassian looked at you with concern.

"You look exhausted, y/n, have you been sleeping?" he asked.

"Yes, Cassian, I have been sleeping - I think I'm just having a bad day that's all" you replied, a little too harshly, pulling your eyes away from his so he couldn't see the tears re-forming in response to his gentle worrying. You response made Cassian's concern grow, so he bent down, scooped you off the chair, and carried you out of the study.

"CASSIAN PUT ME DOWN" you shouted, smacking at his shoulders, mindful to avoid his wings.

"Not a chance. You look like you need to sleep, and considering you nearly bit my head off when I asked, I am insisting that you at least humour me with a one hour nap" he retorted, carrying you up the stairs to the second floor. You noticed that you passed your own bedroom door, and had been walked straight into Cassian's. He put you down on his bed and walked over to draw his curtains. You started to protest, but you couldn't deny that his bed was particularly comfy, and his scent had such a calming effect on you that your lids were already getting heavy.

"Sleep", Cassian said, pulling the duvet up to your chin. "I will wake you in an hour".

You wanted to argue back, but you hadn't truly realised how tired you were, and with the warmth, the scent, the darkness, the quiet, you found yourself quickly drifting off for your Cassian-prescribed nap.

-

The door creaked open exactly one hour late, and Cassian froze. He couldn't sense a threat, couldn't see anyone in his room besides you still curled up asleep in his bed, but he could scent blood. He padded over to you, concern lacing his voice as he gentle called your name and shook your shoulder to wake you.

"y/n? It's been an hour, are you ready to get up?" he asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. You stirred and slowly leant up on your elbows, peering at him with half-asleep eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly felt yourself hit with an intense stomach cramp and your mouth watered with nausea. You flew from the bed, pushing Cassian to the side as you headed straight for his bathroom. A few moments later and Cassian was beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back.

When you had finished, he carefully leaned you back against the edge of the bathtub.

"Are you ok?" he asked, his face etched with worry.

"Better now I think", you replied, "I'm so sorry Cassian I don't know what came over me, maybe I ate something funny, I was feeling a bit off all day before you found me".

"So when I asked if you were ok earlier, you lied" he said, although the corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile.

"Potentially" was all you could get out, before another wave of pain and nausea took over your body and you crawled back towards the toilet.

"I'm just going to head down and get you a glass of water, ok? Stay here" he ordered, before turning quickly on his heels and heading out.

After you had finished, Cassian still hadn't returned, so you decided to hoist yourself up and get back into his bed, feeling a bit better on the nausea side - although still having some stomach cramps. It was when you reached the side of the bed you had been sleeping on that you looked down and saw the large pool of blood covering the bed sheets. Gazing down, you realised it was not only covering the bed, but also covering you - bright red coating the entire inside seam of your pale blue leggings, almost down to your knees. You shook violently, panic and embarrassment taking over your entire body. You quickly threw Cassian's pillows on the floor and started to tear at the bedding, wanting to get it off and change it as quickly as you could before he could realise, but you had barely got half of the bed sheet off the giant bed before Cassian re-appeared in the doorway.

You turned to face him, a tray in his hands, and crumpled onto the floor. This is exactly what you needed today - the hot General that you have a major crush on has tried to do something nice for you and you have completely put your foot in it and destroyed his bed. Great. Just fab.

"Hey hey" Cassian quickly put the tray on his desk before dropping down to your level. "What's the matter?" he asked. You couldn't even get the words out between your sobs, gesturing blindly at the bed and yourself. You hid your face in your hands, utterly mortified.

Cassian's confusion was so evident that you dared to glance up at him. "Are you ok?" was all he asked. You nodded, then shook your head, then resumed sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and let you continue until your tears turned to small sniffs.

"I guessed when I opened the door" he said quietly, his hands stroking through your hair. "Your mad dash to the toilet was all the confirmation I needed - you almost sent me flying off the bed and, whilst I train you well, you're not normally that strong" he teased.

"I'm so sorry" was all you could get out, head still buried in his chest.

"Nonsense, what is there to be sorry about?" he asked.

"I ruined your bed".

Cassian laughed and helped you both stand up. "I quite literally cause people to bleed for a living. A bit on my bed is hardly cause for concern". He guided you over to the tray he had brought upstairs.

"So, I have got you some peppermint tea to help with the nausea, Rhys gave me a tonic he gives to Feyre to help with the pain - but he said Feyre always complains about how bad it tastes, so there's a lemon drop sweet for after just in case - and I stole a slice of Elain's chocolate cake that was in the fridge because I thought you might like that - oh and some cheese. I'm not sure why, but I thought you might want some, I always think cheese helps make any situation better, but maybe not if you've been sick..."

He was so excited as he showed you all the goodies he had found for you that your embarrassment fell away completely, even though you realised he must have announced your situation to the entire house downstairs. Before you could make any comment, he grasped your shoulders and walked you back to the bathroom, where the House had run you a lavender scented bath.

"Hop in the bath, freshen up, and you can enjoy the cake" he said, with a beam. He handed you a fresh set of pyjamas he had taken from your room and closed the door behind himself to give you some privacy.

After your soak, you changed and headed back into his bedroom. The sheets were fresh, with no sign of your incident, and Cassian was lounging on his side with a book in hand. You noticed that the book you had been reading, a smutty romance recommended by the House, was resting on the other pillow. Cassian must have grabbed it from your room when he got the pyjamas. He smiled at you when you came back and offered you a hand to climb onto the bed next to him.

"You are staying in here tonight, ok?" he said, "I don't want you to be alone and refuse help if you need it, especially since you were so stubborn earlier".

You laughed, quite happy to stay in Cassian's bed. He pulled the tray over to you both and offered you the peppermint tea and a fork for the chocolate cake.

"OH WAIT, take the tonic first!" he said, handing it to you. Feyre was right, it was disgusting. But, it did help the dull ache in your stomach, enough so that you were able to happily enjoy your slice of stolen chocolate cake. You made a mental note to apologise to Elain tomorrow.

After you were quite full and content, and had settled down to read for a while, you felt your eyes getting heavy again. Cassian noticed, and pulled you into him. You revelled in the comfort, enjoying every moment of it - you didn't think you'd ever get another chance to be this close to him and you certainly weren't going to pass it up.

"Sleep", he said "it'll help". He started to read aloud from his book, helping you to ease into a deep, deep sleep. One of the best sleeps of your life.

"Thank you, Cassian, for everything" you mumbled, eyes closed.

"You are welcome, y/n" he replied, pulling you closer to his body.

You were silent then, your body and eyes heavy, your brain slowly quieting and shutting down for the night. You felt Cassian lean down, assuming you had fallen asleep, and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. As sleep called to you, you heard him very quietly whisper into the dark, "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n".

[whorediaries-09]

and i'll keep leading you on;

pairing- james potter x reader warning(s)- 18+ content, porn without plot. a/n- i just had this idea and i'm SAT. hopefull ya'll will enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing this ;) also this is quiet short.

little train.

james' girth is hot and warm in your hand. he bucks his hips, curls tickling your neck. his brown eyes beg, as you torturously and slowly move your hand up and down.

'p-please,' he moans, trying to coax you with the tears that have already accumulated on his waterline. you grin, mirthfully.

'poor, dumb baby,' you coo, pulling him towards you by the collar tied around his neck.

'p-please faster, mommy,' he says, voice muffled with the tight grip of the collar around his neck. you stare at him direly amused, nails raking over his glistening brown skin.

'i don't think you're in much of a position to give me orders, dumb slut,' you say. he whimpers, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, letting you torture and use him just the way you want to. you feel his breathe fan on your neck, sending tickles down your spine.

'such a good boy for me, yeah?' you ask. he nods, simultaneously arching his back as you fasten your pace a bit. 'tell me what you want,' you order. he removes his face from your neck.

'i want you to please touch me. i want to feel you,'

'good boy,' you praise, stroking his cheek. you remove your hand from around his cock, pushing him on the mattress, before straddling his hips. you take him in your hand, teasing your slit with the tip of his cock. he moans and grumbles, hiding his face in the soft cotton of the pillow under his head.

'please fuck me, mommy,' he implores. you smile, lips trailing on his chest, travelling on his neck. your teeth sink into his neck, simultaneously pushing himself into you. he stretches your walls out deliciously, fitting into you like a glove.

'fuck you, i will, potter,' you say. he arches his hips, hands trembling to touch you.

'can i please hold you?'

'hmm,' you test, your hand wrapping around his neck, pulling out his collar. you trail your tongue over the tattoo under his jaw which said 'use me'. he almost cries out loud as you increase your pace, walls pulsating around his cock.

'i don't know, can you hold me, hmm, potter?' eyes full of tears, he begs, 'please,' you cruelly and coldly laugh, broken by a soft moan. you take his hands into yours, placing them on your hips.

'just here. do you understand?' he nods. your hand smacks his cheek with a loud sound.

'i need words.'

'yes-yes- i understand, mommy,' he says as you ruin him. he crumbles slowly as the minutes pass and your walls pulsate around him, squeezing him tighter as your orgasm boils in your stomach. he feels himself on the brink of his climax.

'can i cum inside you please, please?' he begs, feeling himself near as every second ticks into his ears. you tighten the hold around his neck.

'oh, i don't know, can you? dumb baby?' you mock, increasing your pace.

'please,' he begs, his toes curling.

'go on,' you give in, your chest throbbing. his releases himself deep into you, warmth filling you up. you throttle on his wet sweaty form, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. he bucks his him, cock going soft in your cunt.

you hit the 'stop record' button, placing a soft sweet kiss on his lips. smiling, you tell him,

'you were so good,'

'thank you. do you think the recording was as half as good?'

'more than just good, baby,' you praise.

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