#ramadiiiisme

[halfmoth-halfman]

Not gonna lie, this chapter was the best birthday present I could have gotten today! Thank you so much!!

aaaaaaaa oh my gosh happy birthday!!!!!!! 🎉🎂 i hope you’re having a wonderful day and getting to celebrate!!!!! 💜

[diejager]

if you’re still writing for the monster 141, what about a bay hybrid reader, who is just on the edges on going into hibernation because the base is in a colder area/remote snowy location

I’m gonna assume you mean bear?

Cw: bear hybrid!readr, hibernation, binge eating, hoarding, tell me if I missed any.

Winter was creeping closer and closer by each day, your instinctual need to sleep away the cold calling to you louder than the prior days. There was a bone-deep exhaustion that clung to you, the heaviness that cold weather brought to you was a constant and nagging feeling that urged you deeper in the nest you’d built yourself in your dark room. Your curtains drawn, lights often closed and locks installed, you’d spent the weeks preparing, hoarding soft pillows, thick blankets and clothes from people you were familiar with. 

They were surprised when you brought it up, blinking tiredly and occasionally yawning in the afternoon, stumbling between everyone’s rooms with a small plea on the tip of your tongue. You took whatever they were willing to give you: a blanket from Price and Rudolfo, a shirt from König and Gaz, a jacket from Ghost and Horangi, and a pillow from Soap and Alejandro. As long as it smelled like them, a lingering reminder that you weren’t alone in your humid room, their musk grounding and safety. You wouldn’t be alone.

Price had known you were - like most bears - prone to hibernation, taking between one to three month of your year sleeping away the cold, sinking into your mountain of fabric and sleeping off the coldest months. Your time depended on the year, the warmer it was, the less you slept, and the colder it was, the longer you slept. It might’ve been a bother in people’s eyes - humans - but it was instinctual, a primal part of your brain that still clung to your ancestors who strayed from the path of being normal bears. You couldn’t ignore the pull, the call to sleep, it wasn’t possible for a bear like you, and you were fortunate to have such accommodating teammates.

You grew hungrier, your stomach becoming an endless pit, an abyss that kept taking dish after dish, stocking up in fat and calories that you’d burn during your sleep, keeping you sustained and alive without having to wake up. You ate whatever you that was within your reach, the cold bread, the warm milk, the leftover of two days ago or Soap’s surprisingly good cooking, nothing was safe when you were a big and grumpy and hungry bear near hibernation. Ever supportive and helpful, Soap and Alejandro would jump in to cook for you, hooking Gaz and Rudolfo into being their sous-chef whenever they were free. It was the delicious scent of home cooked and warm meals that brought you to the kitchen, if it wasn’t a call for fixing up someone, it was the smell of good food. 

You were ravenous, gulping down the many, many plates the duo - occasionally quartet - placed on the table, their chests puffed up pridefully at your quick eating, you were practically breathing them in. Your constant eating helped you pack some weight, your skin stretched to accommodate your growing amount of fat that would ultimately burn over the months. And when the day came, you were low on energy, grumpy and easy to anger, your patience running paper thin, bidding your goodbyes and see you soon, wrapping your arms around them and teasing them about missing you during your lockdown. 

You’d sleep through the cold winter months and wake up to a warmer and busier time, to a welcoming and excited team that had spent the better half of winter waiting impatiently for the TF’s medic to wake up.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[laurfilijames]

Under His Kutte

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Sending a nude photo. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: When Jax forgets his kutte at your house, you make good use of it.

A/N: I am such a slut for this man especially when he wears a hat, and particularly when it's backwards. I stared at this photo for too long and needed to write about it, and with the help from @ramadiiiisme, this happened. Bonus action of The Hat™️ at the end 🫠

---

The same flustered excitement you felt in your stomach every time you saw Jax stirred up again despite having only said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the benefits of him having accidentally left his kutte behind continuing to grace you.

You placed it back on the sofa where he had carelessly discarded it last night, pretending as though you hadn’t seen it there as soon as you walked out of your bedroom earlier that morning, his rush to leave after being woken up by a phone call from Chibs making him forget his most treasured item of clothing.

You sat on the barstool at the kitchen island, sipping from a cup of coffee you had been nursing, smiling into the mug when you heard your door open and Jax strut through it as confidently and comfortably as usual.

“I left my kutte,” he explained, getting right to the point while glancing around your living room quickly, lifting up the blanket and a pillow off of the loveseat before spinning on the spot to begin his search of the sofa.

“Oh, did you? I hadn’t noticed,” you lied, your cheeks feeling a flush that was partly from the heat of the coffee but mostly from the sight of Jax. He had his Reaper Crew hat on backwards, sunglasses still on, and the sunshine had kissed the skin on his face to tint it with a healthy pink that was the same whenever he was fucking you.

Finally locating it, Jax held up his vest with a smile before shrugging it on and walking over to you, his smile bright and playful, and you knew his eyes held the same sparkle behind the black lenses that covered them that you could never forget.

He leaned down and kissed you, bracing his arms on either side of your body to land on the countertop and cage you in, forcing your body to arch back into it as he delved his tongue deep inside your mouth.

You hummed when he peeled himself away from you, your eyes feeling heavy with lust as you watched him lick his lips.

“Did you forget it on purpose?” you teased, slipping your hands beneath the leather panels to feel the warmth radiating off his body through his layers of faded shirts.

He chuckled, his hands reaching up to cup your face while he nudged your legs apart with his, standing close to you where he was able to grind his hips against you.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

You giggled when he grinned at you before capturing your lips again, pressing his bulge into your core to make you moan into his mouth, the fervor of your kiss growing with each pass of your tongues.

“Fuck!” he hissed, backing away from you but still holding your face in his hands. “I gotta go.”

You breathed out a disappointed sigh, tilting your head to the side as you watched him step away and try to collect himself, hoping he’d convince himself to stay for a hard and fast fuck.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he dug to answer it immediately, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. I said I’ll be right there…Five minutes! Jesus Christ.”

Jax flipped it shut and shook his head as he replaced it back in his pocket, closing the distance between you again with another smile on his face as soon as he looked at you.

“I’ll see you later.” he spoke sweetly, his tone completely different from the one he had just used to whatever poor soul had called him.

You nodded, smiling again as he kissed you once, then again, chuckling when he finally found the strength to stop and back away from you.

He stormed through to the front door in a few long strides, giving you one last grin as he shut the door behind him, and you grinned to yourself as you picked up your phone and sent him the photo you had taken just after he had called you to say he was stopping by.

You listened for the roar of his Harley to start up, feeling giddy as you waited to see if he checked his phone before taking off.

Standing, you walked over to the window, seeing him sitting on his bike looking at his phone with a huge smile on his face.

Your phone rang, his name and number lighting up the screen, and you answered through a smile so big it hurt your cheeks, “Did you forget something else?”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his amusement clear in his voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, how am I going to focus on anything now?”

“It’s just a little something to get you back here.”

“Like I need the help,” he said pointedly, starting his bike where it purred loudly through both the phone and the walls of your house.

“I’ll be back to deal with you soon,” he both promised and threatened, making heat surge through your body like wildfire.

“See you later, Teller.”

You hung up, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off your smile as you looked at the photo you had sent again, feeling more than satisfied with the reaction it had gotten out of him.

You wore nothing but his kutte, your body that he had already made tired and sore from a sleepless night on full display under his leather, the bare skin on your chest bearing the claiming marks left by his mouth.

He took off quickly, his engine rumbling so loud it vibrated the house and sent a shiver down your spine, and you hoped whatever it was he was going to do was done quickly so he could get back to you soon.

You did everything you could think of to occupy yourself; laundry, dishes, even baked muffins and whipped up a casserole, knowing Jax would be hungry when he got there, or if he wasn’t, that he would be made hungry from all the things you did whenever you were together.

The impatience you felt was beginning to outgrow your arousal, the desperation in wanting to have your hands on him and his on you becoming too much to stand any longer.

Not two minutes later did you hear the distant grumble of his Harley tearing through your neighbourhood, your body conditioned over time to respond to that sound and awaken a neediness and desire that never seemed to be sated.

Even though you expected it, you still jumped when Jax barrelled through the door with a hungry and desperate look on his face as he stared you down while kicking off his white sneakers, his grin sly and crooked.

“Why the fuck aren’t you naked yet?” he panted, crossing the room to get to where you stood waiting for him.

“Isn’t half the fun undressing me?”

“Yeah, but when I’ve been staring at that pic you sent me all day, I kinda want to get to the point,” he explained, his eyebrows lifting upward while he tugged his jeans down to the floor.

He still had his ball cap on, worn with the bill of it facing forward this time, the shade casting on his face making his blue eyes glow like flames in the shadow.

Jax slipped his kutte off, placing it carefully on the back of the sofa as if making a point that he knew where it was or would be needing it again soon, and stepped toward you, tipping his head and giving you a piercing look.

“Now, get naked.”

You obeyed with a grin, crossing your arms to grab at the hem of his ‘SAMCRO’ t-shirt, pulling it over your head where you had the satisfaction of hearing Jax’s breath hitch when your tits became exposed, and tossed it on the floor beside you.

Remaining in your panties, you went to assist him with his clothes, only to have him grip your wrists, his long fingers wrapping around them securely.

“That’s not naked, sweetheart.”

You glared at him as he released you, making a point to slowly hook your thumbs in the waist of them and inch by torturous inch, crept them down your hips.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed impatiently, even though he was still smiling.

A furious look flashed in his eyes when you pulled them back up to their rightful place, challenging what he would do, and you gasped in equal shock and fear when he grabbed onto your thong and tore them roughly down your thighs.

He crashed against your lips, kissing you with a demand that reminded you that he wasn’t playing games, your body flinching when his fingers trailed along your hip and to your soaked pussy.

Spreading your legs further apart, you moaned into his mouth, rocking on his hand as he drove two fingers inside you, hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Within minutes he had you on the edge, fucking you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess ready to completely fall apart, but he stopped his movements and withdrew his hand from you, smirking at you with a smugness that managed to turn you on even more.

“Fuck, Jax,” you hissed, your breathing sharp as an untamed feeling ran through your veins.

“Hang on, darlin’” he drawled, his tone all-too happy considering what he just did to you.

He took off his hat and then tore his shirts off his torso, leaving him in his boxers that did nothing to disguise how large and hard he was, and had he not tugged them off himself, you were seconds away from doing it for him, your need for him increasing to the highest point when his cock sprang free.

“Put the hat back on,” you requested, your voice so lusty it was almost unrecognizable.

You squirmed in place, seeing the surprise in his features as he did as you asked and placed it back over his messy, blond tresses that crept out wildly from under it, his expression turned cocky in knowing how horny you were.

A half-satisfied smile pulled at your lips when he stood up against you, wrapping his arms behind your back where his hands carded up and down, returning your smile.

You leaned back slightly, reaching up to grip the bill of it to spin it around, facing it backwards just as he had worn it earlier.

“Happy now?” he chuckled.

You nodded, “Mhm. Are you?”

“Fuck, no!” he admitted jokingly through another laugh, reaching over for his kutte that he hadn’t for a second forgotten about you wearing earlier.

Guiding each of your arms through it, he brought it up to rest on your shoulders, holding onto the edges of its opening as his thumbs moved to rub your nipples until they hardened, making you shiver while a breathy whine passed your lips.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his mouth so close to you that his lips grazed your parted ones when he spoke.

You let your eyes close, waiting for him to give you the pleasure he was never selfish with, holding your breath until you felt his lips press onto your neck and down over your chest, his hands falling to your waist and then your hip, smoothing over the curve of your bum where he squeezed your flesh and gave it a playful slap.

Your giggle was swallowed when he kissed you, and you felt his own laugh shake through his chest when you brought your hands up to it, sliding them up to cradle his neck and let your fingers dance where his hair brushed along his bare shoulders.

In a swift motion that caught you off-guard, Jax lifted you into his arms, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist where he backed you up against the wall, thudding against the drywall as he pressed his body hard into yours.

Your nails raked across his shoulders and upper back, roaming to tangle in his hair that wasn’t trapped beneath his hat, and when he lined his cock up to your spread pussy and guided himself inside, you pulled at the strands that were woven between your fingers, his reaction to both sensations reverberating in your mouth.

Jax unleashed all his power on you, holding you up while slamming into you aggressively, the photos that hung on your wall rattling and banging with his barbaric movements.

Doing the best you could to move with him, you humped up and down in an effort to rub your clit on the coarse, wheat coloured pubes above his cock, feeling your climax begin to build again where it had been left teetering on the edge.

You caught Jax staring at your exposed tits, his vest having opened to put them fully on display where they bounced to the enthusiasm of his thrusts and your erratic rocking, his pupils blown out wide with lust.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he growled, taking one last look at the erotic scene before meeting his mouth with yours, his kiss sloppy and rough.

A sweat started to break out on both of your bodies, your skin able to slip and glide on his easier with the harder you worked, the hair at the base of his neck damp when you moved your fingers along it.

Jax was always completely enamoured when he fucked you, but for some reason with you wearing his kutte today, he found himself in even more of a state, destroying you with reckless abandon to create the whimpering mess before him that he craved to see, the sounds he pulled from you the sweetest ones he'd ever heard. He was convinced it had something to do with the way his Vice President patch kept swaying beside your right breast as your chest shook in time to his ruthless pace, or the way the worn, faded, black leather and the white on all the labels that had turned dingey over time looked against your supple skin, and the thought of fucking you in it when it ranked him as President one day instead had him ready to explode.

The sense of pride he felt when it came to his club and displaying its logos was something he never took lightly, and seeing them on you intensified it even more, making it seem like no one else could wear them as well as you.

He became almost possessive, wanting to claim you and prove to you all the things he never vocalized all while knowing without hesitation that everything under that piece of leather was his and his only.

He kissed you roughly, not caring that the scruff on his face was turning your skin raw or that his teeth had knocked against yours more than once in his frenzy to get enough of you, feeling your pussy get wetter with every drive of his dick inside it.

“Fucking turn around!” he spat through gritted teeth, giving the order despite forcing you to do it anyway. He dropped your legs and had you spun around and planted against the wall in a matter of seconds, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to guide you forward, pushing you down so you hinged at your waist and were bent over.

His other hand gripped at your ass to spread your cheeks apart, his cock finding your open cunt without needing any help, slamming into you so hard you had to brace yourself on the wall to stop your face from hitting it.

“God, I’m gonna - fuck! - I’m gonna cum, Jax!” you wailed, your ability to speak properly taken away when he reached around you and started rubbing your clit.

“Yeah?” he huffed, mesmerized in the sight of his glistening cock pumping in and out of you. “You gonna cream all over me, you fucking slut?”

The way he barked that name made you shiver, your mouth filling with saliva to a point you couldn't even contain it anymore, feeling it drool out as your jaw went slack and your climax billowed its way to the surface.

Exhilaration took over you, your moans and cries of approval of how hard Jax was fucking you making him increase his fervor, creating a domino effect of you growing louder and his own moans to sound out and intoxicate you further, the mix of everything so dizzying that it was impossible to imagine a better high.

Jax chuckled behind you, the sound maniacal and deliciously twisted. “That’s it, fuck…”

You let go, accepting the way his body threw you into a trembling orgasm, clenching hard around his cock as he proceeded to pound you mercilessly, hearing his grunts and growls increase in volume and consistency as he honed in on his own end.

He couldn’t look away, watching your combined milky spend leak out of you as he continued to fuck you, your ass cheeks shaking along to his irregular thrusts, the Reaper patch spread out across your back as you took every blow he gave you a sight he would never tire of.

His hand was soaked when he removed it from between your legs, bringing his fingers to his mouth where he sucked them clean, keeping his dick buried inside you until he couldn't anymore.

You closed your eyes as you worked at steadying your breath, your fingers continuing to grip the wall even as you slowly began to straighten your body, feeling full and close to him despite him having slipped from you.

Sweaty handprints temporarily stained the paint when you opened your heavy lids again, smiling at the tingling afterglow that filled your veins, that smile growing bigger when you felt Jax press his lips to your dewy neck where he kissed your sensitive skin with gratitude. You were spun around again, gentler this time, his sweet smile matching yours as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, your hands wrapping around his damp back to help support you as you stood on unreliable legs.

He was heavenly in his post-fuck glow, small beads of sweat dancing just below the edge of his hat, his skin tinged with a pinkish blush from his efforts, his pulse hammering in his neck. His lips looked more inviting than usual, plump and moist, and when his tongue licked across them before dipping to capture yours, you swore your own pulse ceased in its duties.

The way he looked at you when he pulled away after kissing you slowly was curious, a softness and devotion reflecting in his cerulean blues that made your heart beat faster after having just managed to regulate it.

“You look like you've got something to say, Jax,” you breathed, wondering if there would ever be a day that he would say what he felt.

He shrugged, his thumbs stroking your heated face as he tilted his head, looking between your bodies at yours clad in nothing but his kutte, seeing his cum dripping down your thigh.

“I think I'll be leaving this here more often.”

You both laughed as he kissed you again, shuffling forward to push you against the wall where he was able to press his lips to yours as much as he wanted to.

---

Comments and reblogs are the lifeline of fanfic, so if you enjoyed reading this story, please consider sharing your thoughts with me and others! 💗

Taglist: @sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @rhoorl

[bunnyreaper]

bunnyreaper's secret santa masterlist

as you may have seen, i recently hosted a secret santa fanfic exchange—largely with members of my server! it was a lovely little event and every piece is so wonderful. presented below are the finished fics that are publicly available! (for the purposes of this list, oc implies the reader is given defined characteristics, as it was written specifically for the giftee!) soap tradition with a twist (soap x reader) by bunnyreaper it's cold, isn't it? (soap x reader) by shotmrmiller loved (soap x reader) by a-very-bored-blogger not so bad (soap x reader) by juvenilla the perfect christmas setting (soap x reader) by ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff ghost mine all mine (ghost x reader) by soapsgf all i want for christmas (ghost x reader) by kitskatscabinet things to change (ghost x reader) by alwaysshallow make my wish come true (ghost x oc) by perfinn

price john price as a neighbour (price x gn!reader + implied ghost x reader) by crash-and-live just like old times (price x reader + poly!141) by piratesfromspace bar owner!john price kisses you under the mistletoe (price x reader) by inkbybambi poly secret santa (price x oc x ghost) by ohworm-writes play chase (ghoap x reader) by literatecowboy under the christmas tree (poly 141 x reader) by gremlingottoosilly secret santa exchange (ghoap x reader) by ramadiiiisme others shedding some light (nikolai x oc) by cooliofango habits (konig x reader) by juvenilla

[wolfeyedwitch]

Set Up For Failure

Bailey and their no good, very bad day month year

Taglist:

@heathenville @nonbinary-disaster @kim-poce @whump-world @dolls-circus

@pickleking8 @ghostfacepepper @cupcakes-and-pain @badluck990 @mylifeisonthebookshelf

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @extemporary-whump @whumpwillow @multiple-characters1-acct

@sunflower1000 @fleur-alise @equestrianwritingsstuff @scp-1296 @livingforthewhump

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @suspicious-whumping-egg @kaiwewi @lelly-belly @neuro-whump

@newbornwhumperfly @whumpthisway @whumpcreations @wicked-whump @heart4brains

@myhusbandsasemni @how-to-be-a-hero @kixngiggles @kurochan @whumpsday

@extrabitterbrain @pattonvirglsanders @neverthelass @we-write-as-one @elrysdoesstuff

@whumperflies-and-roses @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @ramadiiiisme @towerlesskey

@emmanemanemm @pigeonwhumps @whumpycries

[nekoannie-chan]

Week 52 Reblog Masterlist

Welcome to Week 52 2023 or Week 208, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2023 here.

♥ You can check my December reblog masterlist 2023 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ���ᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 52 2023:

Dark!Avengers fic (Dark!Avengers X Reader) by @chocolateeclairsmoralbackbone 🖤

Coriolanus fic part 1 (Coriolanus Snow X Reader) by @m0chaminx 💚❤️

Steve fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @fushic0re 💚

Stolen choices chapter 5 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @catch22inareddress 💚💙

Mischief giggle (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @deliciousangelfestival 💚

Coriolanus fic part 2 (Coriolanus Snow X Reader) by @m0chaminx 💚❤️

Legacy prologue (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @just-dreaming-marvel 💚

Stolen choices chapter 6 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @catch22inareddress 💚💙

Shower (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sidechrevans❤️

Steve fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @haravath0t 💚

Dream a little dream of me part 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @paperweight91💚

Stolen choices chapter 7 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @catch22inareddress 💚💙

Miguel being a provider (Miguel O’Hara X Reader) by @little-miss-dilf-lover 💚 ❤️

Off the page 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor ❤️ 🖤

Voices of roses and ruin part I (Coriolanus Snow X Reader) by @americaswritings 🖤

Stolen choices chapter 8 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @catch22inareddress 💚💙

(Pumpkin) cream pie (Miguel O’Hara X Reader) by @runa-falls❤️

Voices of roses and ruin part II (Coriolanus Snow X Reader) by @americaswritings 🖤

Lack the back of my hand (Stucky X Reader) by @buckyownsmylife❤️

Stolen choices chapter 9 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @catch22inareddress 💚💙

I promise (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @amarabliss 💚💙

Accidents happen (Stucky X Reader) by @myfictionaldreams 💚💙❤️

Move (Margaery Tyrell X Reader) by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms💚

Complete (Stucky X Reader) by @buckyownsmylife❤️

Campfire stories (Johnny Storm) by @chasingmidnights 🖤

Sweet like chocolate (Eddie Brock X Reader) by @raz-writes-the-thing💚

Wasted 10 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor ❤️🖤

An empty land (Stucky X Reader) by @buckyownsmylife❤️

This isn’t your fault (Tara Carpenter X Reader) by @persevereforahappyending💚

After upsetting you (Brock Rumlow X Reader, Jack Rollins X Reader) by @ramadiiiisme

Oh simple thing (Stucky X Reader) by @buckyownsmylife❤️

I had my dance and now I'm where I belong part 6 (Steve Rogers X Reader, Bucky X Reader) by @sosa2imagines 💚💙

As you wish (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @rookthorne 💚💙

Dating Light Yagami would include… (Light Yagami X Reader) by @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms 💚💙🖤

Paranoia unveiled (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @sevenwivesofrafecameron 🖤

Where have you gone (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @buckyownsmylife❤️

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

One of two kinds - Part 1

Masterlist

A/N: "Part 1", Nina? Part 1? And it's 8.7k words long? Yes, yes, yes, part 1. Guess centaur!Sy will have to wait for a bit, right? I don't even know how I came up with the idea for werewolf!Geralt (affectionately known by me and a few others as "Weralt") but OH BOY am I glad I did... And then Geralt kept getting bigger and the Druid kept getting smaller, and now we're left with this.

I don't think this qualifies as monsterfucking just yet, but rest assured I promised someone knotting and that will happen...

Characters: werewolf!Geralt x halfling!druid!OFC (unnamed)

Summary: When you find a wounded, new werewolf in the forest, you can't just leave him lying there. Perhaps the enormous man will turn out to be exactly what you needed...

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, NSFW, MINORS DNI, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p-in-v sex (unprotected. Be smarter!), dirty talk, SIZE KINK, annoying banter (❤️), lots of teasing, mentions of sexual assault, murder, blood, violence (that took a turn), and just so that no one is confused and comes after me for this later... SIZE KINK!!! And one suggestion of a very inappropriate use of wildshaping... I think that's all but if I missed any, let me know.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @ellethespaceunicorn @mayloma @keanureevesisbae @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @peyton-warren @ramadiiiisme @mysweetlittledesire

The groans and whines cut through the forest, clearly half-animal half-man to your ears. It awakened your curiosity; it was likely a shifter, or so the wolf-like howls would indicate. Wolf-hybrids were so rare that you almost discarded the possibility immediately, but shape shifters were common enough in all forms.

Swiftly you flew through the thick of the forest, towards the source of the cries. He wasn’t difficult to spot; a bright white fleck on the forest ground – and one of considerable size.

Behind a tree, you shifted back, carefully rearranging your skirts – for some reason – before stepping into the small clearing where the creature cried. He was possibly the largest wolf you had ever seen! An adult male, from the looks of it, but a new one. One who had only found his wolf recently. Older wolves rarely went through the trouble of shifting to their full form unless it was a full moon or mating season...

Careful not to startle him, you crept towards him until his big, golden eyes locked on yours, in them an expression of pain so overpowering that you nearly felt his agony yourself. The cries got louder until one echoed in your head: “Help!” He spoke the Common language, to your surprise. He didn’t feel human, even after you disregarded the obvious animal energies.

“Shh,” you said when he yelped, clearly in tremendous pain. He allowed you to touch his head, leaning into your touch and nuzzling your hand. From here, you could see a rather gruesome cut on his stomach and a bite mark on his thigh from something not much bigger than him – but maybe a lot angrier. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” you whispered to him while trying to think of a way to move the behemoth out of the cold. Even your wolf form wouldn’t be large enough to move him.

With the absence of other sensible options taken into consideration, you arrived at the conclusion that magic was the only viable solution. The creature whined softly as your spell lifted him off the floor, and you dragged his levitating body carefully through the woods, until you found the cave you were looking for. The rough floor was cold, but it would have to do.

“You need to shift back,” you whispered as you sat by his enormous head. Gods, whoever this was had to be an exceptionally large man – especially compared to your small frame... “I know it hurts, and I know it’s terrifying, but I can’t heal something as big as you,” you pleaded. You ran your hands through the soft white fur on his neck in an attempt to calm the wolf down. It was obvious to you that he was fighting his shift, and you knew that meant it would hurt him all the more. He simply couldn’t hold on to his wolf form forever.

Slowly, the rhythm of his breathing steadied under your touch. “Good, good...” you muttered, raking your fingers through his fur. “Stop fighting it, it won’t hurt if you let it happen.” It wasn’t quite a lie, but it was something slightly other than the truth: phasing wasn’t painful, per se, but uncomfortable enough to be experienced that way in the beginning. The feeling was certainly more or less an acquired taste.

“I can’t...” The grunt that sounded in your mind was accompanied by a low growl from the creature.

“Yes, you can, I know you can,” you said as you smoothed a hand over his cheek. Watching a werewolf – or were-anything – phase was a sight somewhere between gruelling and fascinating, but this man somehow made it look powerful and captivating in a way.

His human – or rather, ‘regular’ form, as you were still convinced this man was at least not fully human – was as impressive as his wolf; Approaching – perhaps even exceeding – two metres in height, with broad shoulders and no shortage of muscle. As your curious eyes raked over his form, you couldn’t help but notice other parts of him that were quite sizeable... Immediately, you discarded the thought: All it took was one look at his abdomen and thigh, both of which had sustained quite a bit of damage.

“Don’t move,” you told the man as you placed your hands over the wound on his stomach before you started on your first healing incantation. “I won’t be able to heal you completely, but I should be able to get both of us through the night,” you muttered as you watched the wound carefully, not taking your hands off the man until the bleeding had stopped. At least that put him out of immediate danger...

The wound on his leg, you had already noticed, would require a more finessed approach; it ran rather high on the inside of his thigh – a place that was impossible for you to reach without putting your hands in places that you had better not touch, even as a healer, without it being strictly necessary. Luckily, now that he was no longer continuously fighting his transformation, and with the other wound in a less alarming state, the man seemed to be in considerably less pain.

“Could you, eh... I need to... Please,” you stammered, your cheeks glowing hot as you made vague gestures at his crotch. “Can you move your, eh... Parts... out of the way, please?”

He looked at you and cocked an eyebrow, while a devious smirk spread on his face. “Parts?” he asked, a hint of that same smugness unbecomingly evident in his voice.

You cleared your throat and tried – and failed – to keep your voice steady as you spoke again: “Yes. To put it plainly... Ehm... Move your dick.” The man snorted, lowering his hand tragically slowly and cupping his... package, so you had access to his thigh. Without thinking, you straddled his leg as you put your hands over the wound, quietly marvelling at the sight of his vast, tree-trunk thighs, fighting the urge to moan as the muscles twitched beneath your fingers. “What did this to you?” you asked softly while still concentrating on your spell.

“Don’t know, didn’t see it,” the man grunted. So, he wasn’t one of many words... He let out a sigh of relief as you finished your work and took your hands off his leg. There was no doubt that it was still sore, as you weren’t able to continue your treatment right now – not if you wanted to make it through the cold night with the slightest bit of comfort, at least.

“How does that feel?” you asked the stranger, and he replied with another grunt.

“Much better,” he groaned. Then, he moved his leg in such a way that made you lose your balance, and you tumbled forward, until you were on top of him. Actually, ‘were launched on top of him’ was a far better description. He barely grunted as you landed on him, but when your eyes met, he was looking down at you in utter befuddlement. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were...” He awkwardly pinched his fingers together in a gesture that could have meant absolutely nothing other than ‘small’.

“I’ll have you know I’m exceptionally tall for a halfling, you brute!” you snapped, frowning up at him. Despite your feisty attitude, you didn’t dare move, as you were very aware of the rather unfortunate position on his body you were in. Luckily, he seemed far less plagued by reservations regarding the situation, and before you know it, his large hands grabbed your waist, and he pulled you up towards him. His sly grin never left his face as he set you down on his stomach, just above the wound you had just been working on, which now presented itself as a new scar, the fresh skin pink and shiny and – above all – delicate, making you extra careful not to make any unexpected moves.

“What’s your name?” you asked, feeling it was only appropriate at this point to find out that information about him.

“Geralt,” he said with a low chuckle. You repeated it – it was a rather unusual name – and introduced yourself, still seated on top of his chest. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “Do you have any idea what happened to you?”

“I... Well, you saw the aftermath. I don’t know what attacked me, and... You seem to know a lot more about what I am than I do,” he said slowly. Something in his voice suggested he was lost, confused and perhaps even a bit scared.

“Get some rest,” you said, conjuring up a soft bed of moss beneath the man, “I’ll try to gather some food.”

It was not an easy task, as it was rather dark out and also quite cold, but you managed to forage a batch of mushrooms and berries that, together with the provisions you carried, should make a nice meal for the both of you. Upon your return to the cave, you saw Geralt, slowly scurrying through the cave – still in the nude, as he of course did not have any clothing at this time. He had almost finished building a small circle of stones. Next to it, there was a pile of branches and twigs, and a supply of larger blocks of wood. Since there was no axe present, those blocks had to be a testament to his incredible strength.

“It’s freezing,” he said plainly when he noticed you standing there. Yes, the temperature. You had already noticed it yourself, but now that you were faced with this man, sanding upright, completely naked, you rapidly felt the temperature of your body rise as you involuntarily let your eyes glide over his imposing form.

“It is...” you replied, never taking your eyes off of his generous endowment. It truly was freezing. A chuckle escaped him – of course he had noticed your completely inappropriate staring – as he sat back down on the layer of moss you had conjured for him. “I can light it,” you said quickly, before Geralt could move towards the stone circle. You sank to your knees next to it, and quickly built a fire. Then, you focused on cooking the two of you a meal.

“It’s not a lot,” Geralt complained as you handed him his portion of the food you had prepared.

“I’m so very sorry! Naturally, I foresaw these circumstances, yet neglected to pack enough food to accommodate a giant like yourself,” you snapped at him. What did he expect you to do? “What are you, anyway?”

“My father is a half-orc, and my human mother clearly isn’t quite right in the head,” he scoffed. You struggled to suppress a chuckle. As far as you were concerned, his mother had had exactly the right idea... “Though I suspect you would disagree with that.”

“I beg your pardon?” you said, not even feigning indignation at the implication in his remark – it was perfectly genuine. How dare he make that assumption? He was right, of course, but how dare he?

For whatever reason, he decided not to press the matter, finishing his meal without making another sound.

“Your mother was also a werewolf,” you said after swallowing the last bite of your own supper. “Your father likely wasn’t, which would explain why it took so long for your first shift to occur. I take it you’ve been away from home for a while, too?” As you had already expected, Geralt nodded in reply to your question. That just about explained the entirety of his current predicament. When you looked into his eyes, the hint of fear was back again, and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the man.

“Alright, I can tell you haven’t the slightest clue as to what’s happening to you, so I will do my best to explain it as clearly as possible,” you said – not that your knowledge on shape shifters was so vast, but it had already become painfully obvious that you knew more than this poor sod. “If you want, I will stay with you until your transformation is complete."

You expected him to argue with you, to tell you to waste your time on something else, or that he would be alright without you. Instead, Geralt accepted your offer without so much as a single complaint – he truly must have been terrified. It wasn’t unimaginable; things were happening to him that were not only new to him, but beyond anything he had ever imagined he could possibly be.

“What do I have to look forward to?” he groaned as he stretched out on the patch of moss again, not bothering to cover his body with... Well, there was nothing he could possibly cover himself with... Your cloak surely wouldn’t suffice – it would barely be enough to cover one of his enormous legs. Besides, you’d get cold if you handed it to him. To fashion a blanket out of moss would be possible, but it would leave you without a bed, as you were really starting to get tired, and using more magic was out of the question. To leave him bare through the night, however, especially in his current condition, would certainly prove disastrous for him. With the fire still going, his attire – or lack thereof – wasn’t an immediate concern. His question, on the other hand, was.

“You have made it through the worst part; the full shift is unanimously more difficult and more painful than the half shift,” you explained. “It should follow within a few days. In the meantime, prepare to feel... moody – although I suspect it wouldn’t be the first time people say that about you – and restless, generally uncomfortable... There won’t be a lot I can do but keep you company and help you through the shift, but at least you won’t be alone.”

“Thank you,” he muttered, turning onto his side on the makeshift bed. This time, when you looked closely, he shivered. “You don’t happen to have anything larger than that handkerchief you call a cloak, do you?”

“I do not, but if you’re nice and stop insulting my size, I can make you something. It would leave us with just one bed, though,” you said, your tone about as snippy as you felt was to be expected after a remark like that.

“I don’t see a problem, there’s plenty of space for both of us on here,” he replied, his eyes holding something just shy of an apology.

“Alright then,” you said, walking over to him and fashioning a cover out of moss for him. It was large enough to cover both of you, but you opted for your cloak as you lay down on the soft, green, makeshift mattress next to him. He’d been right; there was plenty of space – largely because you, of course, hardly took up any.

“Will it always feel like this?” he said suddenly, just as you informed him that you were going to sleep. “The tearing inside, the... pressure?”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” you said softly, turning around to face him and placing a hand on his cheek, his face almost comically large underneath your tiny hand. “You learn to live with the wolf. Right now, you’d do well to remember that you’re not fighting him; there’s simply no point to it, he’s never going away. He just wants to...”

“Play?” Geralt scoffed.

“You’re being sarcastic, but you’re hitting the nail on the head, actually,” you said in earnest. He looked at you, his golden eyes glowing enticingly in the light of the fire. “He wants to get to know you.” Your gentle touch, combined with your words, calmed him down, and he inhaled slowly and deeply. “Get some rest.” On a deep sigh, he closed his eyes, and before long you heard low and loud snores – echoing through the cave...

“Good morning,” he grumbled. Morning? Was it morning? As far as you were concerned, morning came after a good night’s sleep, and you didn’t get that, so morning? Your tiny little behind!

“To you, maybe,” you snapped, “I didn’t sleep a wink. Caves have quite the echo, you know. And you...” He cut you off, surprising you by putting an arm around you and pulling you against him, his lips close to your ear.

“I’m not asleep anymore,” he growled, “why don’t you get some sleep now.” With one swift move, he wrapped his blanket around you too. Why didn’t you get some sleep? Beg your pardon? As if there was even so much as a remote possibility of getting any sleep. It was morning. And what that meant for this man – who, beneath that blanket that you were now under as well, was still very much naked – was that it was really morning.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any sleep with that giant...” He cut you off again, this time with a bout of roaring laughter that echoed through the cave loudly enough to give anyone a serious headache. “Alright, that’s quite enough, Geralt.” You got up and paced to the other side of the cave, where you inspected your supplies. There wasn’t a morsel of food left after last night, and your water supply was dwindling swiftly – especially now that you had to share it. “There’s a town, not too far from here. I will stock up on some supplies and find you some clothes. Please tell me you know how to hunt?”

He scoffed – a sound that was positively dripping with disgruntlement at your implication. “Leave me the bow,” he grunted, “not that those... darts will kill anything, but I’ll give it my best.” He reluctantly took the crossbow from you and inspected it. “Do you have a knife?” You could tell he tried not to laugh when you handed him one of your daggers, and he closed his mouth again, swallowing the comment he had been tempted to make. “This will do just fine.” The smile that adorned his brutish features wasn’t quite genuine, but it was close.

As you gathered your things and made your way to the entrance of the cave, he stopped you: “What do you mean ‘a town not too far from here’? You’ll be walking for hours!”

“I was never going to walk, dearest,” you taunted before shifting, leaving Geralt baffled at the sight of a rather unusually large raven before him. By means of a goodbye, you cawed a few times before taking flight.

You returned to the welcome sight of a flickering light coming from the cave, and the smell of roasting meat. It was still light out, leaving you with plenty of time for foraging, and mending the heap of scraps you carried in your pack now would make a fine activity for the evening. The sight you were met with when you entered the cave, however, left a thing or two to be desired.

“Would it be too much to ask that for the few days we call this cave our home, we do not turn it into a pigsty?” you snapped as you stepped around a pile of entrails. “Did it occur to you to take care of these beasts outside?”

“I was going to clean that up,” Geralt growled at you, “you returned sooner than I expected.”

“Does the phrase ‘as the crow flies’ mean anything to you, Geralt?” you retorted.

“You turned into a raven, not a crow,” he replied, his uncalled for stoicism only fuelling your anger.

“I hardly think you are in a position to be a pedantic arse about this!” you exclaimed, balling your hands into fists in an attempt to prevent yourself from saying something you didn’t mean – in the interest of keeping the peace for a few days, of course. After a deep breath, you felt confident you could speak without insulting him: “Thank you very much for providing us with food. Here are some clothes.” You handed him the things you had bought him, which he gratefully accepted.

“I’m almost done cleaning the hides,” he said with a kind smile, “In case you wanted a bed of your own tonight.” By the end of his sentence, his voice dropped, as if the thought of you sleeping anywhere other than next to him brought him sadness. Without another word, he put on the garments you had given him. Luckily, you had gauged his size quite accurately, and they fit him well. “No undergarments?”

You snorted. “I think I happened upon the place where you phased, are these yours?” You tossed the scraps you had gathered at his feet. After a brief inspection, Geralt nodded. “Well, then it seems like you never felt the need to wear undergarments to begin with, Geralt.” He smiled at you – and in this moment you’d have given everything to just be able to say he smiled up at you, but seated on the floor like he was, his face was just about level with yours. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment to his expression, which irked you – to say the very least.

You ventured out into the forest, looking for something to add to your meal – though you doubted Geralt would have any problem whatsoever with a dinner that consisted solely of meat. During your search, you noticed for the first time how lovely this particular part of the forest truly was. You were lucky enough to find mushrooms, root vegetables and a whole host of berries nearby. From where you stood, you could hear a waterfall, and as you walked towards the sound, you clutched your waterskin and prayed that the water was clean enough to drink. It was! In fact, it was nothing short of absolutely perfect, and the banks of the small creek provided you with even more edible plants and herbs to take with you.

“Darling, I’m home,” you teased as you stepped back into the cave. The pile of guts, you noticed, had been removed – mostly. This night, the two of you prepared your dinner together, while jokes of the domesticity of your current situation became more and more frequent. Outside, a particularly harsh wind had picked up, blowing icy air into the cave.

“Perhaps instead of a second bed, we had better use the hides to shield us from that wind,” you suggested carefully.

“Perhaps instead of making a bed right in front of the entrance of the cave, you could have gone around that corner,” he grumbled, pointing at a part of the cave that would absolutely have been better suited for sleeping, “where we wouldn’t have to worry about freezing.”

“And perhaps,” you snapped, failing to keep your anger out of your voice, “I was utterly exhausted from dragging your gargantuan arse through this forest to keep you from dying!”

“Oh, believe me when I say I appreciate it,” he threw back at you, “but wouldn’t it be such a waste of your precious efforts if we still died...”

“As if that wind would actually kill you!” You rolled your eyes at him while he growled at you, and before you knew it, you found yourself in one of the tensest moments of your life so far.

“It wouldn’t kill you either, but it would be pretty fucking uncomfortable, wouldn’t it?” he sighed impatiently.

The worst part of the argument was that the solution was so mind-numbingly simple that neither of you even dared to pitch the idea of just moving the bed to the other side. Instead, you just kept staring at each other, getting angrier with every passing minute, until – much to your dissatisfaction, you finally couldn’t take it anymore: “Let’s just sleep over there, then!” With a snap of your fingers, the moss disappeared, and with another, it reappeared on the other side. “And lay down and strip, so I can take another look at your injuries.”

“One bed, huh?” Geralt remarked, flashing you that cocky grin you had become far too well acquainted with in the short time you had known the man.

“Shut up,” you replied, “you’re warm. It was quite nice.” Heat rose to your cheeks as you spoke the words, and you were convinced you weren’t wholly able to keep the expression on your face free of the shame you felt.

“I thought so too,” Geralt admitted as he lay down on the bed, nude once more, grinning down at you, seemingly not feeling the same embarrassment that you did regarding the situation.

The wound on his abdomen was as little of a problem as it had been the previous night. This time, the only thing that remained of it was a faint scar that looked far older than it really was. The other injury, however, posed the same problem it had before – only this time you were more than comfortable taking a slightly different approach.

“Do you need me to move my... parts out of the way,” Geralt said mockingly while raising a suggestive eyebrow at you. You sighed deeply. This man was simply impossible!

“Yes, Geralt,” you barked at him, “please move your massive cock, before I do it.” You immediately realized your mistake, as the devious glint in his eyes slowly gained assistance from yet another impossibly smug grin that slowly spread across his face. He did exactly what that look in his eyes foretold: absolutely nothing. “I’m not giving you a happy ending with this healing spell.” You spat your words out at him so harshly that for a moment, his face showed a hint of concern that he had gone too far. “I might castrate you,” you added in a sickly sweet voice that brought the grin back to his face, “but it would be a shame...”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” Geralt chuckled – a sound that was cut short by a grunt when the backs of your fingers brushed past his cock on their way to their destination on his thigh. On the way back, you let your fingertips trail the flesh of his thigh slowly, purposely lengthening the amount of time you spent in contact with his parts. The muscles in his thigh twitched as you ran your fingers over them. This time, you hadn’t made the mistake of straddling his leg, and you cursed yourself for that choice, as in that moment you wanted nothing more than for him to launch you onto his chest again.

“God, you got insanely lucky that whatever bit you even missed the goods, darling,” you muttered before withdrawing your hands, eliciting a deep sigh from Geralt.

“I’m even luckier you found me,” he whispered on a sigh. Without speaking, he held a hand out to you, and you took it. He impatiently tugged at your arm, almost hard enough to make you lose your balance again. Instead, you moved, climbing over him until you were laying to his left, nestled into his side. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “your touch calms me down.”

“Gods, I almost forgot,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief over your apparent indifference. “How are you feeling?”

“Restless, as you predicted,” he replied. “My senses are annoyingly heightened. You smell good. You feel soft.” He turned to face you, wrapping his other arm around you and pulling you against him and laying his forehead against yours, swallowing hard. “I find myself constantly fighting the urge to touch you, taste you...”

“I might be able to help that restlessness, you know?” you said carefully. As clear as it was what other urges he was fighting – judging from the growing pressure against your leg – you found it best to err on the side of caution.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” His voice was only a low growl in your ear.

“That’s disappointing,” you retorted with a challenging tone to your voice. Suddenly, his eyes opened, the look in them fierce – animalistic, even.

“Fine, is that what you want? For me to tear you apart? Don’t think I can’t smell that sweet little cunt of yours,” he snarled before aggressively pressing his lips against yours. The sudden action made you gasp, and Geralt greedily used the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue. When he retreated, you eagerly sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan as you nibbled on it – quite contently, too. Without hesitation, he reached for the collar of your blouse, tearing the fabric away unceremoniously. You allowed him to explore every bit of skin on your neck, moaning with each sloppy, open-mouthed kiss he pressed to the sensitive skin.

From there, he swiftly moved on to your chest, sucking more than only your nipples into his mouth with remarkable ease. His teeth grazed over your skin, luring a sharp gasp from you as you dug your fingernails into his shoulders.

Now that it was the sound of your own pleasure bouncing off the walls of the cavern, the sound bothered you far less than when it had been Geralt’s horrible snoring.

He moved his hand down over your body, the materials of your clothes shredding under his brutish touch. It didn’t matter; you’d mend them later, right now all you wanted was to feel Geralt’s hands on you.

You cursed softly under your breath when he ran one of his fingers through your folds. A low grunt slipped from his lips as you kissed and licked his neck and jaw, then a louder moan when you sank your teeth into his flesh as he pushed a finger into your slick core. When he added a second, he groaned – as did you.

“There’s no way,” he muttered, making you giggle. The fact that he seemed to struggle to push that second finger into your tight pussy made you giddy with excitement, but you also eagerly took the opportunity to finally flash Geralt a smug smile of your own. The fact of the matter was that you weren’t some porcelain doll.

“Come on,” you taunted, “if you can’t even manage a second finger, how are you ever going to put that big, fat cock inside of me? I can take it, I promise.” He laughed when you threw your head back as his finger finally slipped all the way into you. “That’s it, now give me some more, big guy,” you hissed into his ear, earning you a surprised look that held concern as well as a measure of admiration.

Geralt hesitantly positioned a third finger at your entrance and pushed it into you gently, stopping immediately when he saw your face contort into an expression of what he rightfully believed to be pain. “Are you sure?” he whispered, his face displaying clear disbelief as you nodded.

“Go slow,” you moaned, “I’m more than alright, love.” Slowly but surely, his finger inched its way into your tight canal. You took a moment to get used to the slight burn, allowing your body to relax around the intruding digits and accommodate instead of reject them, and then you looked into Geralt’s eyes as you began to move your hips, your dripping core coating his hand with your juices.

He mimicked the rhythm of your hips, pumping his fingers in and out of you, making you moan with every thrust. “Don’t stop,” you moaned, meeting his movements time after time, your words punctuated by increasingly ecstatic cries, “you’re going to make me cum.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, and moments later, your muscles were clamping down on his fingers, spasming erratically while you came undone.

“Gods, you’re beautiful like that,” he murmured to you, stroking your hair and chuckling lightly when his praise made you squirm in his arms. “I wonder if you’re as beautiful when that pretty little mouth of yours is completely stuffed with my cock.” His lewd words were almost enough to drive you all the way up to another peak...

With ample enthusiasm, you made your way down his body, trailing your fingers over his muscles and through the hair on his chest and stomach, until you were seated comfortably between his immense thighs, clenching your own as you let your eyes glide over his parts. He was absolutely massive – so big, in fact, that you hesitantly reached a hand out to touch him. You had confidently talked the talk, but walking the walk would perhaps prove a bit more challenging than you had initially anticipated…

As soon as your fingers came into contact with the soft skin of his cock, your doubts melted away, and were replaced by an almost feral longing to devour him. Slowly, you allowed your fingers to travel the length of his erection, mapping every pulsing vein and every ridge you encountered carefully, committing them to memory, paying attention to the area around the tip that made Geralt moan softly on his exhales. Finally, you wrapped your hand around his member, only managing to cover just over half of his girth with your small hand.

“Gods, you’re tiny,” Geralt whispered, letting out a delighted chuckle and reaching for your head, guiding you gently into a position where your chin rested near the base of his cock. “Oh, fuck me...” he said in disbelief as he stared down at you.

“That’s the idea,” you replied before sticking your tongue out and licking all the way from the base to the top of his cock. It wasn’t hard to guess what he’d been so mesmerized by; you were fairly confident his erection was longer than your head. Slowly, you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, carefully keeping an eye on his reactions, before taking him into your mouth.

It was easy to see that Geralt tried his very best to hide his amusement at your frustration when you could barely manage to wrap your lips around his tip – only his very best wasn’t quite good enough, and he failed miserably as he tried to choke back his laughter.

“Where’s that big mouth of yours now that you need it,” he asked with a positively maddening grin on his face, but worse than that smirk was the fact that just as you attempted to pull back to answer him, you felt his hand pushing at the back of your head, leaving you sputtering around his cock. He found it all quite entertaining, while you glared up at him, not at all convinced of the hilarity of the situation. After a few moments, his tone changed, along with the expression on his face. “Come on, little one, I know you can manage a bit more than this,” he said softly as he gently stroked your hair, tangling his fingers lightly in it.

You wanted to get angry with him for calling you that, but you just couldn’t – not only because it was so incredibly true, but also because he said it so sweetly, his voice so full of endearment as he gently urged you to take more of him, that you felt pride and a willingness to please him glow deep within you. With his guidance, you slowly took more of him into your mouth, saliva dripping down his shaft as you inched your way down until you simply couldn’t cope with his girth anymore – and you had still barely made it past the tip.

“A bit more,” Geralt grunted above you – and something in you became instantly wildly annoyed with the man and his ridiculous demands.

Abruptly, you pulled your mouth off of him and snapped: “I can’t dislocate my jaw, I’m not a snake!”

“You’re a druid, right?” he asked suggestively, ignoring the irritation in your voice.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” you stammered. The notion was so utterly ridiculous that it would be foolish at best to dignify it with a response.

Left without options – other than ‘stopping what you were doing altogether and going to sleep, which was just about the last thing you wanted – you continued your efforts, slipping your lips around the head of Geralt’s cock again. This time, you moved your hands over his length while teasing the tip with your tongue, and you soon revelled in the sound of the moans that escaped him.

He didn’t speak, though occasionally he muttered a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath – the low, gravelly sound of which made you clench your thighs together. They were slick with your own arousal and served as an immediate reminder of the ache between your legs. It was impossible now to stop squirming, searching for the friction that would provide you with relief – something Geralt was quick to notice.

He sat up and plucked you off the floor like you weighed nothing – and to him, you most likely truly didn’t – before laying you down on the moss. He kissed you briefly, and then went on his way, kissing down your body until he reached his destination. Strong hands firmly gripped the back of your thighs, behind your knees, pushing your legs open with demanding force.

He took in your scent, the look in his eyes changing from languid bliss to one of pure animalistic need as he inhaled. The hands left your thighs, only to reappear on your hips, gripping you tightly and pulling you closer as he buried his face in your pussy, eagerly tasting your arousal. In this particular area, his size was clearly an advantage, because his tongue covered so much area that he hit all the right places no matter how he went about it. You squirmed in his arms, begging him not to stop, to keep doing what he was doing until you inevitably came hard on his eager tongue.

“Gods, that was fantastic!” you exclaimed, immediately cursing yourself for your enthusiasm as you heard the arrogant chuckle that he let out as you spoke. Your attempt to move away from him was met with resistance, leaving you powerless in his overwhelmingly strong grasp.

“Stay,” he ordered, “I’m not done with you.”

It was the simplest of truths; as soon as the words had left his lips, he trailed around your clit with the tip of his tongue, teasing you for a moment before flattening the muscle against your swollen little pearl. It didn’t take long for one of his hands to leave your hips, and you felt his fingers at your entrance, eager to plunge deep into your waiting core. This time, they slipped into you with ease, much to Geralt’s satisfaction.

Your climax approached swiftly, and you silently thanked Geralt that he didn’t take the opportunity to be a complete arse about that. Instead, he moaned against your skin as he softly kissed your sensitive clit before moving up again until his lips found yours. Somehow, tasting your own arousal on his capable tongue made you even wetter, and you soon squirmed helplessly as he trapped you beneath his enormous body, unable to move away from him so you could beg him to finally take you.

Eventually, he pulled back, breaking your passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he pulled you along as he sat up on his knees.

“I was going to ask about the logistics,” he chuckled, “but this seems fine?” You nodded in reply to the question he so cleverly – yet poorly – attempted to disguise as a statement. After checking whether you were really sure about this, he held you up with only one hand, using the other to line himself up to your core.

The intense feeling of his thick cock slowly entering your body made you screw your eyes shut and knocked the air out of your lungs as your pussy struggled to accommodate his incredible girth.

“Too much?” he asked, his eyes locked on yours, looking for signs of discomfort.

“No,” you breathed, gritting your teeth as you tried to get used to the fullness, “keep going, I told you I can take it.” You searched his eyes for the feral need you had seen in them before, but you found nothing other than concern – until you caught a glimpse of the immense restraint he was showing. It was then that you realized that it took absolutely everything he had not to slam you down onto his cock – it took everything he had not to give you exactly what you wanted. “Come on, big guy,” you growled into his ear – as close as you could get to it, anyway, “put this big, fat dick in me. I want to feel every inch of you inside my tiny little cunt.”

Your crude words were rewarded with a pained low grunt, his quickening breathing, and the pounding of his heart in his chest so ridiculously loud that you could hear it when you put your head on his shoulder. Somehow, it wasn’t enough yet, and you didn’t let up on your pleading until he grabbed the side of your face with his hand. One quick look into his eyes told you you’d finally reached your goal; your relentless begging had eaten away at the resolve to take this slow, and Geralt bowed his head to roughly crushed his lips against yours, as he suddenly dropped you all the way down onto his cock.

“Oh Gods, yes!” you shrieked – the sound swallowed by his mouth firmly locked over yours. He did you the courtesy of giving you a few – brief – moments before lifting you off his cock again.

Compared to the second one, his first thrust had been gentle, and he only got rougher as he plunged into your core again and again, making you scream with every last move. They were mostly cries of utter bliss spilling from your lips – only very few escaped you out of pain. Fact of the matter was that the slight burn you felt as Geralt’s thick cock stretched your walls to their limits – and slightly beyond, perhaps – only added to your pleasure, heightened your arousal, and steadily drove you towards the edge of yet another freefall into rapture.

He had been scared to hurt you before, but seeing you so completely overcome with pleasure seemed to change something. Before you realized what was happening, your back hit the moss, and he hovered above you. One of his hands captured both of yours and pinned them to the ground above your head, while the other managed to manoeuvre your legs onto his chest. Geralt chuckled as he took notice of the fact that your feet barely reached up to his neck.

“So fucking small,” he growled before pulling out and slamming his hips into yours, “so tight.” The angle was amazing – you weren’t the only one who thought so, judging from the sounds that came from the enormous man that hovered over you, who muttered an almost uninterrupted string of profanities as he pumped his cock in and out of your aching cunt. With every new thrust, your tight, clenching walls pulled him closer and closer to his release. “Fuck, I’m going to flood this tiny little pussy,” he growled into your ear in between ragged and uneven breaths before erratically chasing his pleasure with complete, reckless disregard for your comfort – just the way you liked it. When he came inside of you, you clamped down on him, milking his fat cock for all it was worth, until every drop of his seed had spilled into you.

You knew the worst was yet to come; the moment he would pull out, and your sore muscles would clench around nothing, cum dripping from your battered hole… And indeed; when the pressure slowly disappeared, you winced and cried out in pain as you had oftentimes before – only now, you were pulled into a strong embrace, and kissed gently on your parted lips as you gasped for air.

When you woke up, Geralt was behind you, curled up comfortably around your body, and you sighed deeply. You hadn’t felt this way in a very long time; connected, sheltered, wanted. An outcast to your kin, you knew you would never be able to return ‘home’. Refusing the hand of the man your parents had chosen for you might have been excused after the first time, if you had followed that with long weeks of grovelling and begging his family for forgiveness, but since you had run away, you had naturally fallen from grace completely, while bringing grave shame upon your family. Since that day, you had often wondered if the freedom your choices brought you had been worth the price you had to pay for it. Now you knew. It was.

You yawned and stretched – or at least; you attempted to do so, but you were captured in the iron grip of Geralt’s embrace, and the strong arm draped over your waist weighed heavy on your body. It was impossible to move. Absentmindedly your fingers traced the bulging veins in his thick forearm while you remembered how those same arms had lifted you up so effortlessly the night before.

For a while, you basked in the glorious aftermath of your… you’d have called it ‘lovemaking’, perhaps, if you had any indication that he felt for you what you were starting to feel for him. For now, ‘tryst’ would have to suffice. You clearly felt the evidence of his presence in your body – you were sore all over, particularly there where you had so gracefully taken the brutal beating that had seemed such a good idea at the time. Not that you regretted your decision, far from it, even! It was rather the case that you had forgotten how taxing your particular proclivity for sizeable appendages could be. And you were sure you’d gladly forget again, in a few short days.

After some time, you really couldn’t stay put any longer. For one because your stomach was growling, and also because – and this matter was indubitably the more pressing of the two – nature was calling. Next to you, your behemoth prison keeper was fast asleep, somehow snoring considerably less annoyingly than the night before.

“Geralt,” you whispered, to no avail, leaving you with no other option than to raise your voice. “Geralt!” Unsurprisingly, that did not work either. It would simply have been far too easy if it had. It was obvious to you that kicking this man anywhere would hurt you more than it would hurt him. He carried both werewolf and orc genes, for crying out loud! You squirmed in his arms, and when that yielded no result either, you cried out. “Geralt, for the love of the Gods, you don’t even have to wake up, but please let go of me!”

“No,” he muttered, voice thick with his continued slumber, “don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, you grandiose fool,” you chuckled, “but I do need to… step outside for a moment. I will be back in a minute.”

With a sigh that was indicative of great reluctance, he lifted his arm off you, allowing you to get dressed and set out to do what needed done. Now that you were free of his grasp – though you wouldn’t dream of abandoning him – you scurried through the woods for a moment, in search of something to still the growling of your stomach.

Your quest for food was successful, but as you began to make your way back to the cave, something grabbed your arm pinning you against a tree.

“What do we have here?” the figure – cloaked, of course – spoke in the Elven tongue. It was a dialect you weren’t quite familiar with, but you managed to understand his words just fine as he spoke of his intentions – malevolent, naturally. With your hands pinned in place, you were unable to wield magic, and thus utterly defenceless against the man, leaving you with two options. The first was to suffer his abuse quietly, as you had done countless times before as you travelled the woods by yourself, the other – and preferable – option was to cry out as loud as you could and hope that help would come swiftly.

Under different circumstances, you would have uttered a general cry for help, and though you were certain that that was exactly what you had set out to do, what came out of your mouth was Geralt’s name, loudly, the sound filled with terror and agony.

“Shut up!” the man before you called out, pressing a dagger to your throat. A single tear escaped your eye as a familiar incantation was followed by the growth of vines from the tree, shackling you to it. Now that the man had a hand free, he let go of your hands and trailed your arms until he reached your face. He gently caressed your cheek – a gesture that made you feel sick to your stomach. Then, before his hand could trail further down, another figure appeared behind him. You were fairly confident it was Geralt, but before you could make sure, you were forced to close your eyes as blood splashed in your face.

When you opened them again, you saw the lifeless body of the elf at your feet – a head shorter than he’d been when he’d been threatening to harm you. You stared at the dead man on the ground, letting your hands drop to your sides as the vines disappeared now that their conjurer was no longer among the living.

“G-Geralt… You… You killed him,” you stammered, still attempting to process what had just happened.

“I did,” Geralt growled as he stepped closer. You felt his large hand, heavy on your cheek as he turned your face towards his and kneeled. “Don’t touch what’s…” His voice trailed off, his unfinished sentence heightening the tension between you.

“Say it, Geralt,” you whispered, “please.”

“No one can touch what’s mine,” he snarled softly, staring intently into your eyes. Without thinking, you lunged for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pressing your lips to his so fiercely that it made him laugh before he made an effort to match your fiery passion. When he broke the kiss, the look in his eyes had changed. “Are you scared of me?” he asked hoarsely, to which you answered by shaking your head decisively.

“At the very most I’m covered in elf blood, and I’d like something done about that,” you said, stepping away from Geralt to inspect the elf. When you bent down to check the body, Geralt asked what you were doing. “Free cloak,” you answered as you took the thing off the man’s shoulder. The violence from before had left it with a pretty large tear in the fabric, but it was nothing you couldn’t fix.

“That’s stealing,” Geralt mused softly.

You shrugged. “Why? He’s got no use for it now.” Beside the cloak, you found some rations and money. Geralt allowed you to grab his hand and pull him along to the stream, near the waterfall, where you quickly discarded your clothes and stepped into the chilly water. “Come here,” you called to Geralt, who hesitantly followed.

“It’s far too cold for this,” he grumbled as he helped you wash the blood off your body first, and your clothes after that. There was a hint of something else to his voice; a kind of confusion, though you could not quite put your finger on what the cause of it was.

“I’m sure we can find a way to warm up,” you said as you stepped out of the water, the cold breeze raising goosebumps all over your body. Geralt graciously offered you his shirt – a floor-length gown on you that would in no way stay on your shoulders, but at least it was warmer than being fully exposed to the cold air.

That day, as well as the next two, was uneventful; hunting and gathering, the pile of animal hides slowly growing in a corner of the space you occupied.

“We could stay, you know,” you spoke softly one night, as your fingers drew patterns through the hair on his chest and your empty pussy ached after yet another round of passionate lovemaking.

“Here?” Geralt asked, looking around the dark space.

“I know it’s not much, but we could make it into something?” you pleaded. “I haven’t had a home in a while, and I think the same applies to you.”

“My home will be wherever you are, my love,” Geralt whispered, as if that was all there was to it.

[charliemwrites]

I love tag games but I don’t like long reblogs either, so I was tagged by @ohbo-ohno for favorite songs rn!

1. Notre dame by Paris Paloma

2. Fields of Elation by Sleep Token (not shocking)

3. Worms by Ashnikko

4. Burn Your Village by Kiki Rockwell

5. In a Week by Hozier (feat. Karen Cowley)

No pressure tags @eilidh-eternal @dragonnarrative-writes @sourpatch-boy @ramadiiiisme @vampirekilmer and of course anyone else that saw this and wants to share!

[oddsconvert]

Shattered #8 - Lies, Lies, Lies

Previous / Masterlist / Next

CW: Whumpee thinks Caretaker is new whumper/master, Vampire Caretaker, Reference to vampire whumper/previous abuse/captivity, Bloodbag Whumpee, Recovery/Rescue, Nightmare (drug induced), Panic attack, Talks of death/hopes of death, Denial, Paranoia, Drugs/Medication, Noncon drugging(?) Loss of speech, loss of autonomy

Taglist: @octopus-reactivated @whatwasmyprevioususername  @ramadiiiisme  @darkthingshappen  @whumpsday   @thecyrulik   @t0rture-me   @redwhump   @the-crypid-magpie   @snowstuffscuff   @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump   @wolfeyedwitch   @interdimensional-chaos   @termsnconditions-apply   @whump-blog   @leyswhumpdump  @not-a-space-alien   @onlybadendings   @darlingwhump  @sparrowsage   @flynnswhumpprompts  @whumpcereal  @wolves-and-winters  @ashh-ed  @idkmansomeusername @whuarri  @33-sdtr-45 @pigeonwhumps  @canislycaon24  @the-whumpers-grimm  @damienxozmoze  @predacon-skydrift  @morning-star-whump @neverthelass @the-magpiesystem @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @mushroomlover554 @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @kadeee00 @that-one-small-world

(let me know if I’ve missed you or if you’d like to be added!)

-

How do you plead for your life with pen and paper? Would the fear, desperation and agony translate to the ink? The question wracks Declan’s brain, pounding against his aching skull as he clutches onto his pen like it’s his last lifeline.

It might be.

A shaking, yet stern death grip nearly crushes the plastic. Countless balls of paper are scrunched up and strewn across the room, and the notebook sitting on his lap is drowning in countless scribbles, all scratches of words that he determined were not enough to save his life. Splotches of ink once begging for home, or even a scrap of mercy; now blurred. Splattered with his tears. 

The vampire thinks he’s fast asleep. Resting, recuperating - whatever the hell it is he should be doing. But Declan’s night is August’s day. The terror keeps Declan wide awake, knowing that the creature is stalking the halls, waiting for the right moment to strike when Declan lets his guard down to sleep, at his most vulnerable. Why else would he have taken Declan in?

He’s scoured the room already; there’s nothing to whittle or fashion into a makeshift stake. There is no protection. Because August has thought everything through, of course. No weapons, no defence nor even privacy or dignity.

He’s a prisoner again and nothing more, he reminds himself. He won’t be fooled by the simplicity of a blanket or hot meals, even if the feeling of fullness in his belly feels like an impossible blessing he knows he’s not worthy of. His purpose is to be a blood-bag. Food. It’s nothing short of cruel and barbaric to trick him into thinking that anything more than anguish lies on his horizon. Freedom is a privilege not for the likes of him. He’d squandered his, took it for granted. 

The vampires had won. They’ve broken him down into nothing. The leeches have taken everything from him, and even with nothing left to give, they still want more. They can’t suck him dry of his blood, so they’ll drain his life away. He misses when he didn’t know the difference. 

Please - Declan writes down for the millionth time. It’s a good start. It’s just whether he pleads for mercy, or maybe for direction and orders? Just so he can know what his new master actually wants from him. It feels like he’s back at square one all over again. Stumbling in the dark, so terrified of the unknown and not knowing what to expect, how to behave and stay out of trouble. He knows now. It took everything from him, but he knows how to be good now and he just wants to show August how well behaved he can be. He won’t fight back, just so long as August tells him what to do. He’ll listen. 

He could write ‘please let me go’ and leave it up to August’s interpretation, whether letting him go means returning him home or…to finally be put to rest. If August truly wants to be merciful, and follow through with his promises of no more pain; he’d put him out of his misery. It would be a kindness.

The jarring creak of the door snaps Declan out of his thoughts;  he yelps and stuffs the notepad quickly under his blanket. He is quick to hide the damning evidence that will no doubt land him his first punishment from his master. He can’t lose the little comfort Sir is allowing him right now. Not yet.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you’d be asleep,” August mumbles, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as his eyes dart all over the room to avoid eye contact. 

Declan presses his back flat against the headboard of the bed, his spine forced pencil straight, cowering under his blanket, glancing over the top. His eyes stay peeled on August, pupils blown wide with fright. Like a scared puppy in the pound, cornered by the dog warden. He’s sure August was hoping he was asleep. It’s easier to take advantage of a blood bag when they aren’t ready for you. Declan knows. He knows all too well.

“I was just going to-" August trails off, pointing to Declan’s bedside, sheepishly scuttling over to turn up the drip. The look of panic in Declan’s eyes instantly glazes over into a foggy, far-away look. A wave of ecstasy crashes over him. Pain melting away that he didn't even notice was there, he'd long grown accustomed to it.

"There. That should be more comfortable. I hope."

Declan’s eyes roll back into his skull, eyelids fluttering shut as he lets out a low and throaty groan, slouching back into the bed. Even the panic seems to be shoved down deep in his mind, even if he doesn’t want it to. He just lets the sleep come for him, no energy to push back, and steal him under. 

Only then does August notice the dozens of balls of paper littered around the room and Declan's notepad sticking up in a jagged shape underneath his blanket. August rifles through the sheets to pull it out.

“What?” August gasps to himself, flicking his thumb through page after page of just black ink blocks.

He can't make out much. It's all scribbled out. But he can make out a few words lurking underneath the abyss of swirls.

A few “please”’s are hidden in there, a “home” dotted here and there. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what the intention of the letter was. A letter crying out for mercy. Declan still can't quite comprehend, or even trust that he's in good hands. That just maybe the hell he’s endured is truly behind him and he can look forward, without having to look over his shoulder. 

August can feel his heart drop in his chest. He can feel the terror radiating from the pages, and it’s devastating to think of what must have been running through Declan’s mind in the moments when he tried to write those letters. 

They can't keep going like this, round in circles with this breakdown of communication. How can August ever get through to Declan if the boy can't even voice his worries and wants? There’s no way for August to guide him. 

It doesn’t matter. August will figure it out. Tomorrow, he will begin the journey to help Declan recover his voice. 

*!*!*!*!*!*

“D-Declan? Oh, my baby… I’m here. Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay-”

Mom? 

The tears already spill down his cheeks before his eyes can flutter open. The world stands still around them. In this moment, there’s just him and her. Nothing else exists. No horrors lived through, and no monsters hiding under the bed.

She’s here. She’s really here. She doesn’t look a day older than the last time he saw her, God knows how many years ago now. Same outfit too. The scratchy wool sweater he bought her for her birthday one year, beige with bunnies on it. 

His jaw stutters open, a strangled rasp making its way out instead of all the words he wishes he could say to her. How much he’s missed her, thought of her every single day that he could think, loved her with every fibre of his being when all his world was consumed with hate.

All he can do is weep, stretching his arms and reaching out for her, grabbing at the air with his hands. She daren’t wait a second longer, sprinting towards him and pulling him up into a crushing embrace, wrapping her arms so tight and burying her nose into his ruffled hair. Who knows if she’ll ever let go again?

She smells the same too. She smells like home. 

After all these days of August swearing safety and freedom, all those lies he’s been fed, this is it. This is the first time he’s felt he can accept that he’s safe. Now that she’s found him, everything will be okay.

Declan squeezes tighter, tighter than ever before. He nuzzles in towards her belly and lets his eyes slip shut. It’s time to finally go home. 

Then, a dark chortle rumbles above him. The sweet smell of perfume diffuses in the air, and a musty smell swims up Declan’s nostrils instead. The room feels stale, like all the light has been extinguished and the air has been sucked out of it. Or maybe it’s his own lungs; all he knows is that he can’t breathe all of a sudden. The terror grips his throat again. The arms around him crush against him, and sharp nails dig into his back. 

“Aw. Needy little blood bag, aren’t we, Deccy?”

Vince.

Where did  his mother go? She was just here in his arms. The world was right again, and now it’s been flipped upside down. The dark snuffs out the light, and loving touch is replaced with pain. 

In the entire time Declan lay dormant, his eyes saw a thousand horrors that his mind wasn’t awake to comprehend. Now, he’s awake. Now, he can understand and feel the fear. How can that be fair? That living as a zombie, not quite here but not quite gone, is somehow miraculously better than the alternative? 

Life. Life that he fought tooth and nail for. But he lost himself in the fight. And now Vince has come back to drag his sorry ass back down to that vile basement, to reclaim what’s rightfully his. It doesn’t matter how many times Declan tries to remind himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone; Vince is always there to remind him of his place. 

Declan screeches, trying in vain to untangle his limbs from the demon who tore his life to shreds. He thumps his fists against Vince’s chest to get out of his grip. It doesn’t matter. Vince holds him easily. Finally, With all the strength he can muster, Declan shoves Vince out of his arms, pushing him away from the bed as he goes stumbling backwards.

But it’s not Vince who staggers away from him. 

August nearly trips backwards over his own feet and stares back at Declan in astonishment, hurt painted across his face. August’s eyes are full of betrayal and concern, and Declan can’t wipe the confusion from his face. None of this makes any sense. He heard Vince, he saw him, he felt him.

“I’m so sorry. Did I spook you? I didn’t mean to. You’re okay, no-one’s going to hurt you!” August stresses, holding his palms out before him as if to demonstrate his innocence. 

Declan's head is about to implode. He can't begin to fathom what's unravelling before his very eyes. Curling into himself, he wails, mourning the loss of home all over again. The universe won't grant him an uninterrupted moment of silence, not without fear.

If he could, he’d go back and talk to himself; go and speak wisdom to the poor old Declan curled up and sobbing himself to sleep on his mattress and tell him it’s okay. To stop fighting. Because what was he fighting for?

He thought he was fighting for life. But what kind of life is this suffering? Is pain and terror? Deception at every turn.

Strangely enough, Declan recalls hearing a voice telling him that. That it was okay, everything would be okay. To let himself fall, because Vince’s words would be there to catch him. The burden of thought and choice, the risk of messing up would be taken away. He’d be the perfect vessel and blood bag.

At the time, Declan thought it was Vince’s persuasion luring him into giving over that final bit of control. Sweet tempting words to let him slip away,

Now, he wonders if it was him. If it was that final bit of him left suffocating under Vince’s power, laying down the sword. Giving up the fight. Telling Declan that they lost, but that’s okay. The sweet surrender of sleep was coming. 

Whatever was coming for him, was okay. It would be better.

It would have been. If it wasn’t for August. The saviour that’s condemned him…

*!*!*!*!*

Declan jumps awake in his bed, springing to sit upright, a scream tearing its way out of his dry throat, drenched in cold sweats through to the sheets. He pats his cheeks, feeling the dampness of tears latch to his fingertips.

It wasn't real.

No-one is there. A sliver of moonlight spotlights the space where August was standing moments ago. No, not August, Not Vince… or Mom. She was never here, they're still worlds apart. And it's like a knife to the heart, losing her all over again. 

He's living to suffer, despite the words his captors try to delude him with. Alive under August's wish only, to feed from and toy with. It doesn’t matter that August hasn’t used him yet. He will. Declan knows it. It’s August who is responsible for this; he caused that vile nightmare. August had drugged him in the middle of the night. 

The blood pounds in Declan’s ears, his heartbeat thumping rabbit fast in his chest. Panic beats him to a pulp, and he chokes on his own wet sobs as he desperately gasps to catch his breath. He rocks back and forth in his bed, slamming his palm over his mouth to trap in the cries.

Footsteps thunder down the hallway, and Declan’s ears prick up at the sound of sprinting at lightning pace as August and Lucas burst into the room. They both look terrified.  They must have  heard the blood-curdling scream echo through the house, and come running that very second. To subdue him again, Declan is sure.

"Declan! Everything okay in here-?"

Declan doesn't respond, he can't - he's too busy crying himself into hysterics, hyperventilating for breath. His eyes so wild, bloodshot red that they nearly matched those of the monster gawking at him in shock.

“What’s wrong? What happened?!” August gasps, rushing to one side of Declan's bed, Lucas the other. Declan cries out again, rolling away from August and reaching out for Lucas for protection, grabbing onto his t-shirt and burrowing his face to hide away. He must look so pathetic right now.  But Lucas is the one thing he's got left that’s closest to humanity in this place. An ally, someone he can rely on.

“C-Ca…Can’t-” Declan pants, sucking in desperate breaths as nausea twists in his gut. 

He can’t do it. He can’t cope anymore. He can’t be here, he can’t be food, or a plaything. Whatever he’s done in his life to deserve this, he’s so fucking sorry. But surely it’s time served by now, there has to be a point where he’s suffered enough. He deserves to go home and be free like the vampire keeps promising him he can. Why give him false hope? So he can revel in watching it be crushed again?

Lucas kneels down to Declan’s level, shooting him a solemn look. He slowly reaches for Declan’s trembling hand and places it flat on his chest, “Do what I do, yeah? Match my breathing. Slowly now, in and out.”

Declan feels his hand puff out with Lucas’ chest, following his exaggerated breaths. He focuses solely on matching, keeping in time–he does know how to do what he’s told, after all. He keeps inhaling through the nose…deep breath…back out again through the mouth. His eyes stay trained on Lucas’, and they breathe together until Declan’s back in the rhythm and the staccato gasps for air are no more.

“There we go. You’ve got this. It’s going to be okay,” Lucas consoles, beaming a smile at him. Deep down, Declan feels like he may be able to spare a pinch of trust in him. 

“I think you just had a bad dream. You’re safe, Declan," August chimes in. He sounds as though he’s trying to comfort, and even if Declan doesn’t believe him, he tries his best to not to scream at the top of his lungs to stop lying, no matter how badly he wants to. It doesn’t matter anyway. August probably knows exactly what he’s thinking. They always do. 

"Can you say it back to me? You’re safe.”

Declan presses his lips together. Not a chance. He's not falling for it, not playing along with the sick mind games. That is, of course, until Lucas nods encouragingly at him, a reassuring smile begging him to at least try. Maybe if they hear it, hear him try, they’ll leave him alone. 

“S-...s-sa-” Declan stammers and stutters, his voice barely rising above a whisper. The entire time, his brain is begging him to not believe his own words.

When was the last time he truly felt safe?

“-fe. S-sa..fe” 

Who is safe anymore? Where is safe? What does that word even mean anymore? He thought maybe Lucas was safe… and he seems it. But maybe he's just as bad, he's complicit. Declan pulls his hand away from Lucas and holds it close to him. It’s a fool's game to trust.

“S-Sa..fe.”

He’ll never be safe again. 

Declan bursts into tears, shaking his head furiously and snatching his notepad from the bedside stand. August stops and takes a step back to give him space. Declan feels August’s eyes as he writes. 

L I E S

August crumbles to his knees at the sight of the words. Declan doesn’t understand. If he’s angry, why doesn’t he just hurt Declan like Vince always did? Why go through the motions of pretending to care? It’s not as if it makes a difference. Declan is August’s to use, no matter what.  

"Declan, please believe me. It's not a lie."

LET ME GO

"I will. I promise I'm not - I'm not keeping you here. You’re not a prisoner. No harm will ever come to you. You just need to heal, then we can look at getting you home. I can’t send you back like this - a shell of yourself."

The mask slips, August has finally dropped the ball. Just like Declan knew he would eventually. He’s being sent back to Vince. Patched up and shipped back. He just can’t believe August can dare refer to it as ‘home’. He was right all along, he knew August was tricking him. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, knowing that when he’s recovered and healthy, August will hand him back over to Vince so he can be broken all over again. 

It’s not fair that he woke up. It’s not. He’s been through hell and back. What is the fucking point if he’s only being made strong enough so that they can drain him all over again? They had no right to wake him up. They had no right to continue his suffering. Who gave August the right to play god?

-

Special thank you to @whumpcereal for the amazing beta on this for me! <3 and to @darkthingshappen and @sparrowsage for cheering me on when I was struggling!

[halfmoth-halfman]

Okay so considering your love of urban fantasy! If you had to assign the 141 + Las Almas + König fantasy roles (and preferably you can't have more than one of each) which would you choose and why? 😍

omg i could talk about this and my choices all day

however, i'm not going to answer because that would give big spoilers for my monster!au and given how it's going to be posted i'd like it to be a surprise, i hope you don't mind 👀💜

[diejager]

Cougar monster reader in heat with the boys

~🧋

Cw: implied smut, heat/mating cycle, musk/scent kink, teasing, tell me if I missed any.

It had snuck up on them, like a feline in prowl, stalking from the shadows and only making itself known when it pounced, striking with ferocity and danger. The signs were subtle, sneaking under their nose when they were around you. They were easily forgotten, something that went past their heads without so much as an ounce of concern because it could easily be mistaken for another thing. 

The slight change of scent on your skin, sweeter than usual, but unsurprising when your arrival was so turbulent, changing scents crashing over them like waves, switching between sweet and sour, bitter or salty. The perspiration that clung to your skin, smelling of sea salt and musk, was easily mistaken for exhaustion, sweat that collected from your hours spent at the gym, lifting, pressing and sparring. And your fidgeting wasn’t as abnormal as it was, you were a solitary animal and being introduced to a crowded Task Force made you anxious.

It went without any trouble - much trouble, since you were often struggling with how touchy and open they were - for another week before those subtle signs grew, blaring a bright red in their faces. It hit them in the face with a hard slap, shocking them like a bucket of freezing water would, and your change had them struggling and worried.

Your scent was cloying, overly sweet in your frustration, hauntingly seductive and taunting, calling to them with every small sniff of your musk. The perspiration they once chalked up to sweat from exercise was now connected to the heat that brewed in your guts, a boiling fire that caused your temper to flare. Then your fidgeting had grown to affection and noise, you yowled lowly, purrs rumbling out of your throat, small feline sounds that confused most that weren’t familiar with one; and you were touchy, running your hands over their arms, clinging to them with flickering ears and a swaying tail, fluttering your lashes with wide and dilated pupil. 

“You’re in heat, Hunter,” Horangi bemoaned, his nose scrunched up under his mask, willing - and failing - his body to stop reacting to you. He had formed a bond with you, and succumbing to your teasing and obvious signs of courtships would probably break away all the effort he put in to know you, find a way into your heart as much as you did with his mind, body and soul. 

“Need you, ” you mewled, nuzzling the crook of his jaw, nose running down his glands and nipping at him, your wet lips trailing kisses up and down his throat, “It’s too hot. Frustrating.”

Your persistence was cracking his wall. Your small, kitten licks, the gentle nicks of your sharp canines and the rumbling of your purrs where weakening his resolve, coupled with wandering hands and the curl of your tail around his, wrapping himself around you like a snake, he was a prisoner of his own body and needs. He was so close to throwing all his self-restrain out the window, to pin you against the floor and growl in your face, forcing you to bend and fold to his whims in the middle of the TF’s rec room. Horangi wanted to fuck you, his mind running circles with crazed thought of breeding you here and then, filling you up until he leaked out of you and was sure he’d knocked you up.

“Horangi,” you pawed at him, your hot breath hitting his bobbing Adam’s apple, feeling his patience thinning and thinning. 

You would be the death of his restraint and patience. 

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

[laurfilijames]

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Hurricane. Power outage. Oral sex (F receiving). Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: A hurricane rolls in and knocks out the power, allowing Will to make good use of the time waiting it out with you.

A/N: I've had this idea toiling around in my head for a bit, and when we recently lost power at our cottage, I decided to go for it. I have no experience of hurricanes so I apologize if this isn't accurate, though I tried to remain vague. A big thanks to @rhoorl for the Florida hurricane knowledge and to @ramadiiiisme for supporting this idea through to the very end 💗

---

The sight when you reached the top of the stairs stopped you in your tracks, admiring Will standing by the large window of your living room looking out at the wrath of weather outside, his expression content and thoughtful.

You set down the pile of various candles you had collected from every room in the house, smiling despite feeling a tangle of nerves in your stomach at the potential strength of this growing hurricane.

“Should you be standing that close to the window?” you asked, causing Will to smirk and glance over his broad shoulder at you.

“She’s starting to really ramp up out there.”

You sighed in response, dreading the thought of it getting any worse, the rain already accumulating to the point that the drainage systems on the street couldn’t keep up with it.

Will remained in place, staring back out at the palm trees swaying wildly, the bend of their trunks impressive, seeming completely unbothered by the storm and almost calmed by it.

Coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and brought your hands up to his chest, feeling him take a slow breath in as he covered one of your hands with his.

“I like watching Mother Nature do her thing,” he explained, his voice soothing and even. “She’s angry, letting it all out.” He squeezed your hand as you rested your cheek on his back, already tired of watching the sheets of rain and extreme wind bully everything in their paths.

“I know what that’s like,” he finished, exhaling another slow breath that you felt fill and deflate out of his lungs.

Will turned and gathered you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his somber admission now an afterthought. “So, what did you manage to scrounge up?” he asked, his tone lighter than before.

“Oh, just every candle I’ve ever bought or been given,” you smiled, turning your head to look at the array that was spread out on the kitchen table. “It might look nice when they’re all lit up, but the combination of scents might be a bit offensive.”

Will laughed, his body moving against yours with the motion of it, and you smiled and looked up at him, his blue eyes bright in the dim grey of the storm.

“I just hope the power stays on a bit longer,” you wished out loud, knowing however many candles you made glow wouldn’t be enough to outshine the encroaching dark from the storm let alone the fact that it was creeping later into the night.

“Hmm, yeah, the air conditioner is hardly keeping up as it is,” Will explained, his hand smoothing up your back where it dragged your shirt along with it, the stickiness of your skin and clothes already beginning to feel intolerable.

The lights flickered and the sound of the power surging through the house made both of you part slightly to glance at your surroundings, the warmth from the light of the lamps that were turned on illuminating your belongings for the last time before everything went dark.

Will chuckled while you groaned, his hands rubbing up and down your arms. “Well, sweetheart, it looks like you’ve got a superpower.”

You shot him a glare as you walked over to the table, starting to distribute the candles throughout the kitchen and living room, but not lighting any yet since some light was still coming in from outside.

Will sat on the couch, grinning as he watched you, almost seeming like he was pleased and entertained by the situation.

“How long before you turn on the generator?” you asked, testing your luck even though you knew what the answer was going to be.

He shook his head as he laughed again, “Not until I need to. We might have a ways to go here and I’m not wasting gas in the first few hours of this.”

His eyebrows crept up his forehead as he spoke, his voice stern and amused all at once. “You’re going to have to be patient and trust me.”

You sighed and nodded, flicking the Zippo lighter you held on and off a couple of times before walking into the living room to join him, knowing that out of all the people to have by your side during an emergency, Captain William Miller was the best and most capable one.

He had already spent hours checking the house to make sure everything was secure, gathering supplies like gasoline and food and water, and hauled sandbags all morning with Benny and Frankie that they distributed out to the neighbours, even making a point to check in on some of the elderly ones.

“C’mere,” he purred, beckoning you over to where he sat comfortably, his long legs spread wide with one arm draped over the back of the couch.

He looked at you adoringly as you moved toward him slowly, his smile growing to pull out the creases beside his mouth that couldn’t be kept hidden in his beard, and you matched it with your own sly grin, suddenly forgetting everything that was happening around you as you became pleasantly distracted by the man sitting before you.

You straddled his lap, pulling up the hem of your flowy skirt as you did, seating yourself directly on the bulge in his workout shorts that elicited a low moan from him.

“It’s going to be a long night, sweetheart,” he spoke softly, his eyes flickering over your chest and then up to your lips. “We’re going to have to ride this thing out.”

It was said with such implication that despite the heat, you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your back and down your arms, and you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you squirmed on his vast thighs.

“And what are your suggestions for…riding… it out, Captain?”

Will shrugged and smirked, his eyes glowing the same way his skin was from the humidity that hung heavily in the room, his hands groping at your hips.

“I’ve got some ideas.”

You smiled as you cupped his cheeks, loving the way his dark blond facial hair felt against your palms, and pulled him into a kiss while arching your back to get your body closer to his at the same time, both of you breathing out in the relief of your lips meeting.

Will set the pace, starting off with slow rolls of his tongue with yours, his hands carding up and down your body languidly, reminding you that there was no hurry in any of your actions and that you had all the time in the world to do anything you wanted with each other.

You slid your hands down the thick column of his neck to his chest, feeling his pulse hammer against them, landing on his chest where his body heat poured off of him, the cotton of his t-shirt damp and clinging to his form.

It took everything in you to maintain composure, thankful for Will reminding you to slow it down whenever you found yourself moving your hips faster, his hands pressing and digging into your flesh to force you to keep the steady rhythm that he started.

The slick that already saturated your thong teased you the more you ground your aching core against him, feeling his hard cock straining against the material that contained it, the excitement and anticipation of having him buried inside you intensifying by the second.

The skin on your chin and lips were already raw from how long you had been kissing, the steamy makeout session only made better by dry humping each other until you both were on the verge of finishing how you were, your whines and moans growing while your movements decreased to be as light as possible in an attempt to prolong this intoxicating tease.

Will kissed and sucked at your neck and chest, having already exposed more of you by tugging the neckline of your shirt to the side with eager hands, his breath fanning over your sweat-coated skin when he sighed deeply through his nose.

“Fuck me, you’re gonna make me cum in my shorts.”

He huffed out a laugh, but his admission only spurred you on more, grinding harder on him until his humour faded out and was replaced by ferocity, growling as he pressed his lips against yours again, the sweat that saturated his beard transferring onto you.

The storm was still going strong in the background, sheets of rain pummeling the house and striking the window with a sound that mimicked waves crashing the shoreline, the nerves you felt about it shifting into a frenzied arousal that you directed onto the man beneath you.

Your hands struggled to get under his shirt, the material so stuck to his stomach from his sweat that the skin on your palms dragged along his abdomen, the tackiness making it difficult for you to peel it up over his head.

It hit the floor with a slap, the weight of it evidence of how much the heat and you were affecting him, and you smiled against his lips at the sound of his breath hitching as you slid your hands down his chest to land on his solid pecs while your lower half continued to torture him.

You touched him everywhere you could reach, smoothing down his stomach and back up again, cradling the sides of his neck and then over his shoulders, and finally up to his hair where you let your fingers rake through it until you knew you had made it stick up in a spiky mess, deepening your kiss as the sensation made him press harder into your mouth.

The window rattled from the force of the winds, disrupting you enough that you broke your kiss and turned to look at it, the thought of it possibly shattering filling you with worry as you were reminded of your vulnerability.

Will placed his hand on your chin, his thumb smoothing it while his other fingers tucked up under your jawline, guiding your head back to face him where he silently assured you that everything was fine, his eyes reflecting a surety and vow of protection that no amount of reinforcements on the house could ever match. He adjusted the pad of his thumb so it sat on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly to part it from the upper one, and it surprised you to see how quickly his expression changed, his eyes darkened so much by lust in a matter of seconds that the look in them rivaled the clouds spiraling outside.

He kissed you desperately, his hands falling to your waist where he lifted your shirt upward, only pausing the union of your mouths long enough to remove it from you, your braless chest grazing against his when you leaned into each other again.

Goosebumps broke out across your skin despite the humidity clinging heavily to the air around you, your nipples hardening and feeling incredibly sensitive each time his body brushed against them, your needy moans pouring into his mouth the more his hands roamed over your mostly bare form.

You could hardly handle it anymore, desperate to feel him deep inside you, moving your hips back slightly so you could access him, tearing the front of his shorts down where you reached in for his cock. Will was helpful, lifting his ass off the couch so his shorts could slide down his thighs in order to expose all of himself, his expression serious with brows furrowed and knitted tightly together as he watched you grip him in your hand and began stroking him tip to base, smearing the precum leaking from it all over his silky shaft.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you back to sit directly on top of his groin, guiding your motions as you rocked your covered pussy on his bare cock.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he hissed, holding your skirt up so he was able to watch you grind along his length, pressing his cock flat against his lower stomach where drips of cum spilled onto the smattering of flaxen pubes.

A slow sigh of approval passed your lips as you continued to languidly ride him, your eyes closing as you lost yourself in the sensation and moaning when you felt Will capture one of your breasts in his mouth and spin his tongue around your nipple.

You could feel him growing more impatient, his lips moving faster along your chest where he eagerly worshiped your tits, his fingers clawing at the thin material of your skirt as if he was ready to rip it to shreds to get at you, and his breathing became more laboured, his chest rising and falling quickly while the exhalations from his nose ghosted against the crests of your breasts.

“I need in there,” he growled, his head shaking to the side a couple of times like there was no way he could handle another second not being inside you, his fingers slipping into the crotch of your saturated panties to pull them to the side before running his index and middle fingers through your slick.

Your mouth pooled with saliva as he drove his long digits in and out of you in broad strokes before bringing them up to his mouth to suck them clean, his other hand angling his cock to line up to part your folds while you lifted yourself up on your knees to allow him access to enter you.

You sank onto him slowly, letting him fill you inch by inch until you encased him completely, his blue eyes locked with yours with an appreciation held in them that made your heart beat faster.

Remaining still, you leaned forward and kissed him, your hands holding onto either side of his face, deepening your kiss as you relished in the fullness he provided without moving.

When you parted, Will gave you a soft smile that made you melt, his fingers coming up to trace along the side of your cheek.

“I love you,” he said, the surety in his words clear, although his expression was a thrilling mix of adoration and something waiting to be unleashed, the suspense of experiencing either rough or gentle treatment exhilarating you.

“I love you too, Will,” you breathed, not daring to look away from him.

A strong gale slapped the side of the house, reminding you that the hurricane blasting outside wasn’t to be forgotten, but Will immediately drew your attention back to him, his hands smoothing up your back to hold you against him in a firm, but soft way, his lips pressing onto your shoulder and across your collarbone to your neck, alternating between kisses and nips that told you his control was beginning to falter.

You started moving on him, riding him in careful waves that felt so incredible you weren’t sure how long you could keep it up, knowing that whether you moved slow or fast, you would be reaching your climax in no time.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, resting his back against the couch to watch you, locking his hands on your hips to force you down hard each time you lifted yourself up and almost off his cock.

He was completely enamoured, looking at you as if anything could be happening outside that window and he wouldn’t care to notice, his eyes dancing over your form in a struggle to choose which part of you he wanted to see the most.

Finding the perfect spot that made you thrum with ecstasy, you rolled your hips and bounced up and down, your swollen clit hitting the base of his cock in a shattering blow each time, your skin tingling from head to toe as your orgasm built.

“You’re right there, aren’t you?” Will asked, his words breathy as he admired you sliding on him.

“Yes, fuck!”

Will thrusted up into you a few times, your cries growing loud enough they almost drowned out the noise of the hurricane, your nails digging into the flesh on his shoulder as you approached your high.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Will interrupted, though his voice was soothing. “Not yet.”

His eyes were big and bright despite the dark grey that had fully consumed the room, and although you were taken aback by him edging you, you couldn't deny the trust you had in him to look after you.

“Sit down,” he ordered, nodding to the space on the couch beside him as helped move your legs off of his.

Will stood and removed his shorts that sat halfway down his legs, stepping out of them before moving to kneel on the floor in front of you, his thumbs smoothing on your knees in a way that contradicted the way he forcefully pressed on them to encourage you to spread your legs for him.

He kissed his way up the inside of your right thigh, a low growl coming from him as he inhaled deeply when he reached your core, and then moved over to your other thigh, peppering wet kisses slowly away from where you needed him most until you were squirming where you sat.

“Will…” you breathed, shifting your hips to try to bring yourself closer to him.

“Let’s get this off,” he grunted, his patience thinning as your skirt was preventing him from taking everything he wanted.

He reached behind you, his fingers easily finding the zipper and pulled it down, keeping steely eye contact while wiggling it off your hips with the help of you shifting from one cheek to the other until he peeled the flowy fabric off of your body.

The creases on his forehead were pronounced as he continued to look up at you as he tugged at the waist of your thong, sliding it down to expose your dripping cunt that his eyes were now fixed on as he guided the wet piece of cotton to your feet.

Will hooked his arms under your legs, letting them relax on his biceps, his tattooed forearms wrapping around your thighs to hold you securely. He pulled you toward him, bringing you to the edge of the cushion so you were flush with his face, his nose brushing your folds before his tongue swiped through the mess he had already made.

A long moan toppled out of you as you raked your fingers through his hair, lifting your hips slightly to get even more contact with his talented tongue that licked at you slowly and precisely in an effort to wreck you.

He picked you apart minute after agonizing minute, continuously bringing you to the peak only to stop you there each time, the violent storm outside going ignored and nothing compared to the one raging inside you.

As always, Will was completely focused on his mission, working you with the expertise he had come to master over all the hours spent learning your body, knowing the exact amount of pressure placed on the perfect spot that would send you soaring.

Not once did his hands leave their hold on your legs, completely unselfish in his art and not even considering touching himself, his generosity and the thought of his leaking, rigid cock left waiting for attention adding to your demise.

You pleaded over and over, his name like a song with the storm as your instrumental background, desperate for release as you ground against his face, your heels digging into his waist as he in turn dug his mouth harder into your cunt.

He had you where he wanted you, and pushing your tolerance a little further, Will unraveled one of his arms from around your leg and slipped his hand between the sofa and you, fingering you slowly while he sucked at your over-sensitive clit, the precise hook of his fingers making you clench around them like a vice.

And then he stopped.

You cursed loudly, whining and squirming as he sat up and looked at you with a satisfied expression, his face glistening from your pleasure.

A stray branch from a tree flew by and struck the house, drawing both of your attention to the window, but Will was quick to recover where your focus belonged.

He stood, a slight hitch as he straightened his long legs, his body that had been put through so much physical turmoil over his years of service known to cramp up if left idle for too long.

Will gripped at your knee, pushing it toward the back of the couch so your body was forced to spin and lay down, crawling between your spread legs until he was positioned over top of you with his arms braced on either side of your shoulders.

He kissed you intensely, moaning into your mouth as his cock nudged where he had left you aching for relief, savouring you like he had gone without the press of your lips on his for days.

His hand found yours, interlacing your fingers as he brought your arm above your head, laying his body completely on yours so he covered you entirely, protecting you with all he had.

He was heavy, but comforting, his weight assuring and a reminder of his strength and unwavering love for you, and at the same time it came as a warning of the crushing power he could choose to have, like he was a hurricane all in himself and you were in his path of destruction.

Will paused in kissing you as he adjusted his hips, looking down between your bodies to watch his cock easily push through your tight folds, a shaky breath exhaling from his parted lips as his brows knitted tightly together at the sensation of being back in your embrace.

You looked to the side to see out the window as another blast of wind surged against the house, only to have Will squeeze your hand that he still held in his, his voice calm and even.

“Hey, focus on me,” he ordered, his eyes a turbulent blue when you met them. “Look at me.”

You nodded, holding his gaze as he began to move inside you, the feel of him stroking your walls in long, slow drags making it difficult to keep your eyes open.

Your free hand ran along the flexing muscles of his back, clawing at his sweat-coated skin as he found a pace that brought you right back to the point he had left you at more than once, your head tipping back into the couch as you were dragged into the throes of pleasure even more intensely than before.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart,” Will promised, his voice intoxicating and comforting all at once. “I’ve got you, you can relax…”

He spoke against your neck before moving his mouth back to yours, kissing you gently before probing his tongue in, the tempo of his thrusts deepening now that he knew you were succumbing to everything he was giving you.

He moved on you like the wind moved the rain, pushing and forceful, seeking his own release as he rolled against you with fervor and breathy moans were exchanged between your mouths as you chased your highs together.

Your whole body tensed, convulsing and giving up all control as he fucked you through the shattering orgasm made even more powerful thanks to how he had edged you, feeling yourself release on his shaft that alternated between being buried deep inside you and pulling out almost completely.

Will pressed his mouth hard on yours before breaking the seal of your lips, allowing his laboured breaths and rough grunts to sound out as he fought to follow right behind you, the cadence of your contracting walls coaxing out his end.

You could feel him pulse inside you, filling you to the brim with his thick, hot seed that was always generous in its quantity, his pace remaining steady though his rhythm began to break.

Drops of sweat from his brow landed on your chest, his harsh movements shaking the accumulated moisture off of him, continuing to buck into you erratically until he had nothing left to give.

He crashed against your lips again, transferring even more sweat from his efforts onto your skin, his hand releasing yours where he brought it to your head and smoothed it over your hair, kissing you slowly but purposefully as he gradually let the rolling of his hips fade out.

After a minute, Will pulled out of you, reaching for some tissues out of the box on the side table and handed them to you, taking some for himself for you to both clean up. He stood with a grunt, looking down at you with an extended hand to take the soiled tissues from you, the muscles in his cheeks flinching wildly as he clenched his teeth together.

Will paused for a minute, looking out at the tempest scene, all of his veins raised as blood pumped strongly through them, his muscles accentuated beautifully from his efforts, and you couldn’t help but fall even further in love for him, his face stoic and almost unreadable, but only you knew how much emotion lingered beneath.

He sighed as he moved again, stretching his weary limbs while stalking to the kitchen, and you wondered if he had any idea how much you worshiped him even as he did the simplest of things.

You laid there listening to him rummage around, looking out the window at the ever-present hurricane, the room almost completely dark as night had successfully consumed the sun along with the storm.

Will returned with two glasses of water and set one on the table, passing the other to you.

“Drink up, sweetheart,” he drawled, smirking as he spoke. “The eye hasn't even passed over yet, we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

The wink he sent you went straight to your core, your anticipation of whatever else he had planned for you enticing you and almost had you hoping this hurricane would last for days.

You returned his smile as you brought the glass to your lips, sipping it as you watched him sit on the couch beside you and grab the lighter off the coffee table, flicking it on so the warm flame illuminated his dewy, gorgeous features in the otherwise dreary dark. He lit the two candles that you had placed there earlier before grabbing his own glass and downing the contents of it, seeing the way his throat moved as he swallowed making you thirsty for more.

He sighed when he finished drinking, running his hand over his face to rid it of the sweat, and looked back over to you still laying where he had left you.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, his eyes slowly traveling up your naked form until they landed on yours.

You shook your head ‘no’, giving him a sated smile, thinking how you would happily give up air conditioning and electricity permanently if it meant sharing more moments like this with him.

Will gave a nod and laid down beside you, helping you shift so there was room for him to lay with his front against your back, spooning you comfortably where you both were able to face the window.

His arm draped over your waist and tucked under yours, his hand cupping your breast, and tangling his legs with yours, brought his groin as close to your bum as he could.

He hummed against the back of your neck, his nose brushing your damp skin, and you smiled when you felt he was hard again, his cock pressing between your cheeks.

“You’re going to outlast this hurricane,” you giggled, squirming so your bum rubbed along his shaft, making him growl against your skin.

“Damn right, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his hand running down your stomach and around to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart where he slowly pushed inside your tight walls.

He kissed your neck, the sensation of his beard on your skin making you moan and shiver, his hand returning to your breast where he tugged and pinched at your peaked nipple.

“We're going to need to pace ourselves, here,” he warned in your ear, beginning the slow drag of his cock out of you before slamming it back in, the conflict he felt between wanting to keep you safe and seeking to destroy you playing in his mind.

---

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[hiraeth-witch-11]

Into the Unknown Part 2

Something to tide everyone over while I figure out the *plot*.

Warnings: canon typical violence, Billy Russo

Word Count: 600ish

Billy wasn’t sure why he hadn’t killed you the second you started spouting off about Project Cerberus and Agent Orange. Even if everything you said is true, you’re a loose end. He probably should have and still has half a mind to. But what you had shown him had been convincing, at least enough for his curiosity to be peaked.

You had somehow charmed your way through security with a smile and a few coffees you insisted had been ordered by ‘Mr. Russo’. The new kid was on front desk duty and while he had remembered to check your ID, he hadn’t called Billy to confirm.

Billy had let you into his office because you were a nonthreatening, unassuming young woman who looked at him like you were seeing a ghost or maybe a god. He hadn’t expected you to begin rambling about him and where you were from, how you wanted to save him. He thought you were crazy and you certainly looked it with that gleam in your eye and your hands moving as you spoke. 

You calmed down a bit when he asked you to prove it, likely because of the sobering reality that Billy very well may have killed you for what you knew. Billy would have loved to… question you further, but he had a meeting he needed to get to and leaving you in his office gave him the perfect opportunity to watch you when you thought you were alone. Even if you were aware of the cameras in there, it at least gave him some time to think.

What to do with you?

Maybe you could be a welcome distraction from some of his daily stress. You were certainly cute enough, even if it was in an unusual, almost feral way. You weren’t necessarily his normal type, but you had an energy to you that was intriguing. Maybe he would keep you locked up somewhere, only let out when he had a use for you. 

You knew enough about him that he didn’t need to keep up his mask with you. It might be fun to toy with you for a bit. He might still end up killing you, but the chase was would be so entertaining.

******

You sit in Billy’s office, trying to stay still in your seat. While you aren’t certain if there are cameras in here, you should act as though there are. It’s not like you really wanted to snoop anyway. Not much, at least.

From your coffee receipt, you know it’s the end of October and theoretically things with Frank Castle should start picking up steam in November. You have time to plan. This also means there is more time before there is more real life proof of what you know. Billy might kill you before then. You’re surprised you’ve gotten this far, surprised they even let you up to his office. You really hadn’t thought that would work.

You need time to think. Billy is just as likely to kill you as he is to let you live. If your death benefits or protects him in any way, you are done for. You need to be useful. You need to figure out how you can benefit at least 1 of the 3 things he cares about. His money, his power, and himself.

Your knowledge alone wouldn’t be enough, that was stagnant and if he listened to you and acted differently, you would be in uncharted territory. Your ability to read people was an advantage, but that would only go so far with him. How far are you willing to go to survive? How far are you willing to go to make sure Billy survives?

Let me know if you want to be put on or taken off a taglist! Feedback is the spice of life, any and all thoughts are welcome.

Series Taglist: ramadiiiisme

Billy Russo Taglist: @happydeanpotter

Everything Taglist: @kayhi808

[t0rture-me]

C&M - Gotcha Day

"I w-want to go hhhome..."

"I know, Danny." Marcus murmured, stroking the other man's overgrown hair as he laid his head in Marcus' lap. Fish sat purring in Danny's arms as he pet her soft fur. A pet petting a pet.

It's been a year. Ciaran hasn't shut up about it, either, happily announcing the days counting down. Marcus was surprised to learn that he'd kept track at all, but Ciaran relished in making Danny pretend to be happy about it. Thankfully, he stepped out for a while and Marcus gave Danny permission to drop the mask.

"I mmiss my mom..."

"I know, Danny."

"C-can I c-all her?" Danny looked up at him with watery eyes. The hand on his head hesitated.

"Not now. Ciaran will be back soon, but we'll have you call her soon."

"Y-yes, Sir..." He sniffed, turning his face away again.

As if on cue, the door swung open. Danny sat up quickly, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Happy 'Gotcha Day,' mouse!" Ciaran exclaimed. "I've got some fun things planned for today, but for now just open this. It's for you~"

He held out a small, wrapped box, eagerly awaiting for Danny to take it. Ciaran's excitement was... uncomfortable. Obviously it was going to be terrible, right?

Danny hesitantly opened the box to find... a picture of the sun? He looked at Ciaran with a perplexed face.

"You get to watch the sunrise!" He cheered. Danny's eyes grew wide at the thought of it. Sun. For the first time in a year, he could see the sun. He'd been begging for just a second outside and neither of the vampires had budged on their 'no's.

"R-really?" He gasped. Ciaran nodded happily. Danny looked over to Marcus to see a slight softness to his usually harsh expression. No tricks. Who cares why Ciaran's so happy, what else he's planning to make the day horrible.

"Thank you, Master!"

Taglist (pls let me know if i missed anyone!) - @whumpsday @pumpkin-spice-whump @ramadiiiisme @octopus-reactivated @wolfeyedwitch @thecyrulik @whumpeedeedoo @morning-star-whump @interdimensional-chaos @annablogsposts @oddsconvert @melancholy-in-the-morning @paranoiaxagent @melennuii @darlingwhump @no-terms-and-conditions-apply @whumpycries @whumpcreations @whumpshaped @astrowhump

[nekoannie-chan]

Masterlist of reblogged authors during 2023 M-R

This is the list of the writers that I reblogged during this year 2023 in alphabetical order. Unfortunately, some blogs no longer exist, so they were not included.

@mumucow

@mvltisstuff

@myfictionaldreams

@myriadimagines

@mysecretslittlelibrary

@nana1000night @1000night

@naturalxselection

@newobsessionweekly

@nickfowlerrr

@nicoline1998enilocin

@notsarareallynot

@notyetneedcoffee

@novanitee

@noverenia

@oh-my-damn

@oliverwxod

@oneshotnewbie

@oneshotnwebie

@our-marvel-universe

@pagesoflauren

@paperweight91

@peachesofteal

@peachyteabuck

@pedrito-friskito

@persevereforahappyending

@plussizefantasia

@polyamory-imagines

@pomelo-villano

@popchoc

@prettyboybuckley

@prettyinpink350  

@prince-septimus

@princessbellecerise

@qu1etwolf

@queen-of-the-avengers

@questionableratatouille00

@rainbowkisses31

@ramadiiiisme

@ramp-it-up

@ravenempress101

@raz-writes-the-thing

@readingbookelf

@rebeccavis

@redhoodssweetheart

@renecdote

@rodrikstark

@rogersideup

@rogerswifesblog

@ro-is-struggling

@ronearoundblindly

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

@deandoesthingstome Thank you SO MUCH for the tag. I know this wasn't a setup. You'd NEVER do that, would you? You bitch (affectionate).

Here we fucking go...

Diary of a pretty boy

DKITYTI Pt2

Marshall + Lexi date

MikeSyReader

Part of your world

pirate fic

Shot through the heart

Sit

Nicely with a bow

Puppy love

werewolf!Geralt x druid

Widowmaker

Librarian threesome

priest!August

And that's it!

Did I put one or two of these on here as bait? Yes.

Am I sorry? No.

I'm sure everyone's been tagged at this point, but just in case...

@mayloma @gummydummy19 @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @littlefreya @ramadiiiisme

And literally anyone else who wants to participate!

@geralts-yenn I know for a fact you were tagged already but I figured you wouldn't want to miss this post...