#so this was the push i needed to draw it Like This

[bacchuschucklefuck]

couldnt draw my thang for mid-autumn so treated myself to a calne redesign instead

[kedreeva]

How does one pick up a peafowl, and is it at all similar to proper raptor handling technique as depicted here?

No, and I've posted about this before actually.

I suspect the person making the dinosaur posts hasn't actually held a large game bird before, but has maybe held chickens. The particular hold they're speaking of is something you might do to post for a photo op, like this:

but carrying like that is a pain in the butt, and even holding them for show like that is a hassle, because when you fold the feet up like this.... congrats, you just gave a bird with POWERFUL fucking legs ton of leverage to push against your hands. Why would you ever do that. WHy. (look at the feet difference between this show hold above and this scientist hold below, grasping at the ankle where she should be holding):

The feet go BACK because they don't have leverage to kick like that, you do not want to give a flushing game bird the ability to use those legs to try to flush out of your hands.

Additionally, chickens (even large ones) are usually held with the head tucked toward the elbow, so your grippy little fingers can hold the legs and the keel rests on your forearm to bear the weight. This also allows you to tuck the head if you need to.

But again with larger weights (really anything over about 15lbs), you'd definitely want both arms and possibly a spotter. And that scientist has the right idea about a hood.

If you try to hold a peacock like a bird of prey/forward carry like in that drawing, you get this:

Because they just fall forward out of your hold because they're shaped different. They're MADE to jump forward/up in ways birds of prey are not. Even chickens aren't really designed for it anymore.

Anyway, if a raptor (dinosaur) is anything like a peafowl (wild game bird), hood them, hold at the ankle stretched out back toward the tail, pin the wings/arms, rest the sternum/keel on your forearm, face the animal backward. Preferably since you're dealing with a large animal that can seriously injure you, always handle with a spotter.

[allllium]

Could I request a one shot with Simon Riley, where he is in a secret relationship. And one night when he was on a mission, at their shared home, one of their enemies (that they are hunting down in that mission) comes and kidnaps them. When they find the base where the enemy was, Riley went in to see his girlfriend being tortured? She gets rescued by him and seeks medical attention, as she passes out? But when she wakes up in the hospital it turns into a really fluffy moment? Maybe he gets on one knee?????

Not so Secret

~ I really hope I did your idea justice 🤞 I'm the best at writing for Simon yet or angsty hurty stuff so hopefully you enjoy this sweet little moment

~ Fluff, Torture (Mentioned), WC: 1,559

~ Simon can't live without you

Simon can feel his heart beating out of his chest. You're gonna be fine, he keeps reminding himself. No one on the team has anything in the last couple hours. Good thing. Simon might lose his mind if they try to make small talk in this situation. You're gonna be fine, he reminds himself again, leaning his head against the wall.

You were taken by the enemy team on what was supposed to be a perfectly safe mission. Get the information and get out. Simple. It only took an hour before they found you but in that time you were badly injured. You're alive he mutters under his breath. He can feel Price's eyes burning a hole into him but he still doesn't say anything.

Simon practically jumps out of his chair when the doctor comes through the door. Ignoring every word that comes out the doctors mouth, he pushes his way past and into your room. Price can deal with all the details, right now Simon just needs to see you. Just confirm that you're alive.

You're sleeping when he walks in. More like knocked out with drugs but either way you look peaceful. As peaceful as you can with bruises covering your face. He carefully takes a seat next to the bed. He lets out a deep breath as he sits there watching you. Thinking over everything that happened that day and everything he could have done to stop it, which was nothing.

He sits there long enough to doze off, something he rarely ever does when not in the comfort of his own home. You're presence just has the ability to make him feel comfortable anywhere.

"You're lucky it hurts to move or I'd have drawn a mustache on your face." You voice draws him awake.

"No one would see it through the mask." He responds, keeping his eyes closed. It's a weird feeling, having someone you love in the hospital. He doesn't want to open his eyes, he doesn't want to believe you got hurt.

"I'd know it's there and that's enough for me. Look at me Simon." You demand. He listens, opening his eyes to the brightness of the hospital room. The white walls, white lights, and white ceiling don't strike him as the best thing for healing patients.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, looking into your eyes.

"I'm alright, and you?" You sit up in the uncomfortable bed as an attempt to get more comfortable.

"I'm not the one in a hospital bed." He whispers. Eyes darting all over the room.

"True. It's not the funnest." You crack a small smile. You know exactly how he thinks, how much he blames himself. You know it's a result of trauma and you want nothing more than to be able to reassure him in times like this Unfortunately, words aren't enough to undo this way of thinking. "Join me?" You pat the empty space on the bed.

"No." He replies instantly, immediately worried about injuring you further.

"Okay I might have phrased that like a question but it wasn't. Get on this bed and sit with me so I can feel better."

He stays silent. Debating the options he has. Or more so the options he doesn't have.

"You have two seconds or I'm coming to you."

That gets him moving. At this point he knows better than to dismiss your threats. Before moving however, he takes a moment to take off his mask, something he never wears when it's just the two of you.

"Fine, you know you're not supposed to leave that bed yet." He tries to keep a demanding tone but to you it's just laced with concern. You have a wide grin on your face as he scooches in the bed with you. You end half way on top of him with how small the bed is.

"So what happened while I was sleeping?" You ask, absentmindedly tracing the tattoo on his arm.

"I have no idea. I've been here." He keeps his sentences short and simply. A habit he's picked up over the years.

"The whole time? Aw you big softy." Your heart flutters at his confession.

"M' not."

"Mhm. Whatever you say." You chuckle softly.

"Do you need anything? Water? Food? Drugs?" He kisses your forehead.

"I'm alright. Now stop it."

"Stop what? I'm trying to be helpful."

"No you're blaming yourself. I know you." You lean up in order to look into his eyes. He may be secretive but his eyes aren't.

"I'm not. I'm just thinking of all the ways I can protect you in the future."

"Okay let's say that I believe you. How would you stop this from happening again? You weren't even there." At this point you're sitting up as much as you can, putting an arm on Simon's chest to keep you upright.

"Well right now I'm thinking of locking you in my house so you can never leave and therefore never be hurt." He tells you, being completely serious.

"I'm gonna ignore that because you would like a stalker." You laugh. "Where's the rest of the guys?"

"Outside. I locked the door when I came in."

"Simon! Go unlock the door." You want to say you're surprised but not even a little bit of it is out of the ordinary for Simon.

"No. I'm comfortable here. And I don't wanna go back to acting all professional."

"Simon, you've been in here for what I'm guessing is hours considering it's now nighttime with the door locked. I don't think our secret is much of a secret."

"Maybe not. But I want you all to myself." The look on his face reminds you of a sad puppy. Which is a face he makes very often.

"And you say you're not a softy." You scoff.

"I'm not!" He exclaims, trying hard to protect his reputation that you don't believe for a second.

"Whatever you say, sweetie." You smirk as his face lights up a shade of red. Here we have a massive, cold, military man, blushing at one simply pet name, it's enough to give anyone a huge ego.

After you're little period of talking, you fall into a comfortable silence. With you laying back down onto his chest.

"How are you feeling?" He asks after just a few minutes.

"I'm okay." You quickly reaffirm him. "How about you."

"I'm fine."

"Nope tell me the truth. You've asked me that many times now."

"Just checking."

"Simon."

"I love you." He says out of nowhere.

"I love you too."

"Can we get married."

"What?!" You shoot up, wincing in the process.

"I wanna get married."

"Now??" You practically yell. Of course you wanna marry him but you're really confused.

"No I mean later. I just wanna know that we will."

"You mean be engaged?" You can't stop the strange expression that your face makes as you try and decifer what he means.

"Is that not what you want?" He asks, the fear evident in his voice.

"That's not what I said. But we've never talked about marriage I mean not as deep as we should have. I don't want you to want to marry me just because I got hurt." You start to ramble, talking so fastcyou don't even know if he can understand you. He can. He's gotten used to your nervous rambles.

He smiles bigger than you think you've ever seen him. "I've wanted to marry you since the moment we first met."

"Okay you sound more and more like a stalker the more you talk."

"Is that a no?"

"No, it's a we can be engaged as long as you're being serious. And we'll stay engaged for a while because we're not ready to be married anytime soon."

"So next months not gonna work for you?" He laughs, genuinely laughs.

"No I think I'm busy then." You retort. You want to marry him, you know that for sure, but not until you're healed, and not until you both get better at being together.

"I can wait."

"Can you go let the guys in? Cuz the way you're staring at me is making me nervous."

"I love you."

"Door, Simon."

You try to surpress the wild grin on your face as he gets up to open the door for the others. They all walk in with matching suspicious smirks.

"What have I said about eavesdropping?" You immediately question, looking right at Soap.

"Not to do it." He looks down at his feet like a child being scolded.

"That's right, yet here you are."

"It's not my fault!" He immediately defends himself and points to Price. "He's the one that walked by the door and talk me you were talking about marriage."

You turn your sharp gaze over to Price, "and here I thought you were the responsible one." You shake your head in disappointment. You can hear Simon and Gaz laughing behind them. Being more than amused at the scolding you give you captain.

"You're right. I will reflect on my actions and do better in the future." He jokes.

Also shaking his head, Simon makes his way back to your bedside. Sitting beside you and putting an arm around your waist. You have a feeling now that your secrets out he won't keep his hands off you. But you're okay with that.

[strwberri-milk]

Oooh could you give reactions of the LaDS guys when MC rescues them?? I can imagine their stunned faces followed by intense worry for MC

Zayne didn't think that disaster would strike the hospital but here he is using his Evol to try and help patients and their families escape. Anybody who had an offensive Evol was part of this shoddily thrown together front lines, desperately trying to buy time until the authorities arrived.

He thinks he's about to be closed in as the roof comes down, doing his best to try and lessen the damage when he sees you come to the rescue. Somehow you manage to push him out of the way, rolling the two of you to safety as you get up to continue your path. He immediately grabs you by the wrist, wordlessly asking if you're okay. You offer him a quick nod before running off to continue, both of you understanding that time is of the essence.

When he finds you again later he's giving you a full physical, wanting to make sure that you're okay despite the accident. He can only rest once you're safe, holding you close.

If you sustained a life threatening injury he's there the entire time. He's making sure that you're okay, monitoring your progress as much as the doctors will allow him to. They don't want him getting in the way, knowing that he's especially emotional because it's you despite never having seen him like this before. He knows he shouldn't be interfering but honestly, he can't help it. He's worried and he's going to blame himself for the rest of his life if you don't get better.

Xavier lost his mind when he lost sight of you, trying his best to fight while also looking for you everywhere. When he finally sees you after you took out a Wanderer he pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly as he asks you if you're alright. He does his best to appraise your current condition, doing whatever he can to mitigate any pain you feel and trying to convince you to rest before things get worse.

The attack doesn't seem to be letting up at all and you know that the two of you have to split up to continue no matter how much he hates it. He decides fuck the orders and follows you anyway, knowing that he won't be able to focus if you're not there with him.

He hears the Wanderer too late - turning around and drawing his sword half a second later than he should when he hears your guns going off. The Wanderer immediately turns to you, giving him an opening to strike back. It's faster than either of you thought it was, the scream he hears from you shutting him down.

He's glad you saved him but not at the cost of your life and he wastes the creature, knowing his body will suffer the consequences from how powerful his attack was but that doesn't matter if it means it saved you. He immediately takes you to get help, refusing to leave your side until you're actually 100%. He promised himself he'd protect you and he's going to be even more protective of you from now on.

Rafayel didn't think that his studio would be ambushed like this but he was more than capable of handling it - or so he thought. He was close to burning down his whole studio if he needed to in order to escape the assailants, surprised when they suddenly start collapsing without him doing anything.

When you emerge with your weapon drawn he's happy to see you but immediately worries about how you got through the other people they said they brought with them. You were able to take them down thankfully but he's not convinced you're alright, securing his studio with you to ensure that the two of you have nothing else to worry about.

If you sustain a life threatening injury he's immediately calling for help but also takes care of you right then and there. He doesn't want to lose any time to waiting for medical staff to arrive or your fellow hunters - he knows how to take care of you and his fire Evol is thankfully good at cauterising wounds despite how awful he feels about you trying to be brave as he burns your skin. The scars that linger upset him deeply because to him, they represent a time he failed you but in spite of them he doesn't let it drag him down. He knows it'd just make you more upset to know that's how he feels so he just focuses on making sure his skills stay sharp enough to protect you.

Sylus doesn't normally get attacked when he goes out on a job but this was a first. He was a little underprepared, thinking he'd have a quiet evening but the fight wasn't too rough, thankfully. He turns, preparing to leave without realising that there was another figure hidden in the shadows, ready to strike him down when he hears someone fall behind him. You stand over their unconscious body, a little worse for wear but nothing some TLC couldn't solve.

Sylus insists on taking you home, knowing that while you look fine there was always a slight chance that something was being overlooked and he did not want to be negligent in your care. He doesn't like the fact that you got attacked most likely because of your association with him, telling you that you need to be more careful to avoid things like that happening.

When you do get attacked because of your connection with him he has no reservations killing the person who had the audacity to hurt you. He takes you back home, patching you up and making sure you're okay in the comfort of his house. You have round the clock care and you think that Sylus isn't too shaken about your near death experience until you realise his sleep is even lighter one night. He can't sleep properly and probably won't for a while. He'll always be even more alert, constantly having either Mephisto or himself on your trail to ensure that nothing like that happens again.

[st4rpiece]

nipple piercings pt. 1

NSFW

characters: luffy, zoro, and sanji x fem! reader summary: the monster trios reaction to your new nipple piercings content warnings: established relationships, nipple sucking, breast play others: lowercase intended, not proofread, pictures from pinterest

_____

Monkey D. Luffy

you had recently gotten them done, so while they healed, you wore thin clothing instantly drawing luffy's attention. he was immediately fascinated by your new piercings.

he'd probably poke at them with a childlike curiosity, his eyes wide with wonder. "wow, these are so cool! do they hurt?" he'd ask, genuinely intrigued. surprisingly, as you explain the sensation and the reason behind getting them, luffy would listen intently, absorbing every word.

as the days went by, luffy would occasionally bring up the piercings in conversations, always with the same level of excitement. "babe, show me those cool piercings again," he'd say, his eyes sparkling with interest. he'd honestly never get tired of seeing them.

your first time fucking after getting them ignited a side of luffy you rarely saw in bed. luffy was extra careful and attentive as his hands trailed up your body before resting on your breast. his calloused hands cupping them as his thumb softly ran across the piercing, tracing its outline.

"does it feel good?" you nod, back arching, pushing your breast further into his hands. without warning he'd roughly flick the piercings, soaking in your reaction with a mischievous grin.

"i wonder how they taste," he'd say before leaning in to give them a teasing lick, his warm breath sending shivers down their spine. the saltiness of your skin mixed with the metallic taste of the metal bar tasted so good. he licked, sucked, and bit, giving your nipple the attention they deserved.

Roronoa Zoro

zoro would have a more intense reaction to your new piercings. you quickly ran to go show him the minute you and nami returned back to the sunny. you found him resting against the headboard of your shared bed.

his eye opened the second you entered the room, waiting for a kiss (something you always do after returning to him) instead you just stood there at the foot of the bed with a mischievous grin.

"what?" he'd asked, instead of answering you lifted up your shirt and showed off your new piercings.

he would stare intently at your bare tits and the contrasting silver bar with a playful smirk on his lips. "didn't think you had it in you," he'd tease, his voice a deep rumble laced with arousal.

"come here, i want to get a better look," the second you are close, he would pull you over his lap in a straddling position. while his hands rested on your hip, his eyes never left your breast. he wanted nothing more than to take them into his mouth and hear how you sounded to a new sensation. but first, he had to make sure you were okay. be began throwing questions at you.

did it hurt?

how much did they cost?

and lastly, how sensitive are you right now?

once he knows that you are okay, his grip on your waist will tighten, pulling your body closer.

without reserve, his lips would pepper you with kisses trailing from your neck down to the piercings, giving them a gentle tug with his teeth. causing you to grip his hair releasing a moan from the sensation, one he hadn't heard before.

"mmh, i like that," he'd grunt against their skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "these suit you well, baby." his voice husky as he lifted his eyes wanting to watch your reactions closely as his fingers tugged and pulled on one while his mouth bit and sucked on the other. his eyes darken with lust as he takes in the pleasure written on their face.

Vinsmoke Sanji

before parting ways with nami you tell her to send a message to sanji about you needing him in your room. you sat on the bed, nervous and excited ready to show sanji how you spent your evening.

sanji, ever the romantic, would be utterly captivated by your new piercings. "holy shit baby," his eyes would widen in surprise and admiration, a very noticeable blush spreading across his face. "how did you manage to make yourself even hotter," he'd say, his voice filled with genuine awe.

"may i?" you nodded, even though you were still pretty sore, you craved his touch. he'd gently cup you breasts, his fingers brushing over the piercings with a feather-light touch. loving the contrast between your soft warm skin against the cool metal bar.

his touch would become more confident, his fingers teasing the piercings with a mix of tenderness and desire. causing you to let out a kitten-like moan. which further turns him on, "i want to make you feel incredible," he'd whisper, his breath warm against your skin.

his lips would follow the path of his fingers, kissing and licking around the piercings, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. "look at how swollen these bud are," he says, pinching your nipples harder.

"sanji," you managed to moan out.

"hold on my love, i'm just getting started," with lips still attached to your breast, his hands toy with the band of your shorts, dipping inside skimpy underwear.

_____

I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and liking my work >.<. it means a lot!!

I'm working on part 2 atm (kidd, killer, and law) and might get that up tmr :) still, I hope you guys enjoyed this one!!

in the meantime, feel free to check out my kidd one shot >.<!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.

You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper. 

You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.  

Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching. 

“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters. 

“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.  

You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake. 

“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug. 

He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him. 

“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.  

He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you. 

“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.” 

He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching. 

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise. 

You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with. 

You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves. 

A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him. 

“Uh, hi?” You utter dully. 

“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face. 

“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.  

“There a problem?” He asks. 

“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.” 

“I don’t like your tone.” 

You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms. 

“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body. 

“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.” 

You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties. 

“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug. 

He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.” 

“No, I—I didn’t do anything.” 

“There you go again. Disrespectful.” 

“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion. 

“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts. 

You blink, “you don’t know me.” 

“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.” 

“I don’t want it,” you insist. 

“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts. 

You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone? 

You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again. 

“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you. 

You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe. 

“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him. 

“Now smile,” he demands. 

You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day. 

You force a smile. 

“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers. 

Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down. 

“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble. 

“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.” 

“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.” 

You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front. 

You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest. 

He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest. 

💀

Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life.  If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back. 

You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark. 

The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone. 

You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing. 

Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around. 

You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up. 

You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time. 

The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you. 

You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice. 

You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment. 

“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.” 

You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice? 

The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you. 

“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says. 

You snort, “sure she did.” 

“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours. 

“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back. 

You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact. 

“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.” 

Can be. 

You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?” 

He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...” 

You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner. 

“I appreciate the ride but--” 

“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.” 

You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching. 

“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--” 

He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?” 

You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.”” 

“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges. 

You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod. 

“Thank you, sir,” you choke out. 

“See, not that hard to be a good girl.” 

He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him. 

“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls. 

“I can--” 

“Just be careful,” he snips. 

Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.  

You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better. 

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I'm very normal about Idia, guys. Being his friend would be great, I just know. Yet he is an interesting character to me so at the same time he'd want you to spend all the time by his side, he also idolizes a version of you, smth smth I love him, enjoy this <3

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warning: Yandere content, control and manipulation tendencies, guilt tripping, gn!reader

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia becomes intensely possessive when he first make friends with you, something he’s not used to. His loyalty runs deep and he expects the same in return, often feeling jealous and anxious if you spends time with "the normies", as he likes to call them. He tries to monopolize your attention by filling your days with online games, late-night chats and gossip sessions and anime marathons, making it difficult for you to spend time with anyone else. He even try your blogs if it is something he can do inside his or your room.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Sometimes he beg you to spend the day in his room, studying online as he does, when he is dealing with a particularly bad day - which are slowly turning into a daily thing.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While Idia doesn’t confront people directly, he’s skilled at subtly manipulating you. If you mention hanging out with someone else, he’ll sulk or act overly dramatic, making you feel guilty for not spending time with him. He wants youto believe you’re the only one, besides Ortho and his family, who truly understands him, ensuring that you stay close. His tech expertise also gives him an advantage over you as he keeps tabs on your online activity, always aware of who you’re talking to or what you’re doing when you are away from him. And if you tell about how suffocating is to be with someone like him or something like that, Idia will make little changes in himself so you won't be bothered by how he acts.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ To further isolate you, Idia draws you deeper into his world, introducing rare games and niche interests that only he can share with you. If you try to make plans outside your usual routine, he’ll always have something special, a one time offer that you simply can't resist. Deep down, his tendencies come from a deep fear of rejection. He’s terrified of being abandoned and he believes the only way to secure your friendship is to make you depend on him as much as he depends on you. He wants to be your hero, strong, fierce, yet he turns into your villain, your tormentor.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ As the friendship deepens, Idia’s clinginess becomes more apparent, though he tries to hide it behind his usual awkwardness. He starts to get anxious whenever you doesn’t respond immediately to messages, bombarding you with worried texts or even calling, something he normally hates doing. When you finally reply, he plays it off but the relief he feels is palpable. He needs that constant reassurance that you’re still there, still close to him, that you still like him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia’s jealousy, though subtle, can become intense. If he notices you are growing closer to someone else, he starts planting doubts in your mind, making snide comments or pointing out flaws in the new person’s behavior. His aim is always to make sure you realizes that no one will ever be as loyal or understanding as he is. He never wants to be obvious about it but his bitterness leaks out in small doses, enough to make his friend second-guess their other relationships.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When things don’t go as planned, Idia retreats into self-pity, making you feel responsible for his mood. He might withdraw entirely, going quiet for days at a time, only to return with cryptic messages about feeling “left behind” or how much he hates being alone. This emotional tug-of-war keeps you constantly on edge, never wanting to hurt him or push him away, which only feeds into Idia’s control over you. Wether you realize what he does or not, Idia will always find a way to have control over you, no matter what.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Despite his fear of being too obvious, there are times when Idia’s obsession shows more openly. He might create custom in-game avatars of you, carefully crafting you to reflect his idealized version of a romantic relationship. He’ll obsessively collect items or trinkets that remind him of you, even going so far as to create private spaces in games or online where it’s just the two of them, away from anyone else or have an AI of your voice saying sweet little nothings to him, or singing. This, though, he'll never let you know. He doesn't want for you to think he is a weirdo, he just really love you, his bestie.

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Ranking the Yellowjackets from least to most unhinged/corrupt

I’m bored and I feel like we need to hold these characters accountable a bit more so I’m going to rank the main Yellowjackets characters by how many terrible things they’ve done, and I’m going to list these terrible things.

I’m not including the side characters in this list (like Melissa, Gen, Mari, etc.) because they’re all kind of at the same level and have committed the same sins.

TW: Mentions of SA

10. Javi and Laura Lee

These two are both in the most innocent ranking on this list because I can’t really think of a single thing either of them have done wrong. Laura Lee called her piano teacher a cunt I guess? Javi ran away and made his brother worried? Yeah, I’ve got nothing. These two are pure, sweet souls that didn’t deserve what happened to them.

9. Jackie

•Left Van on the plane to die

•Broke girl code by sleeping with Travis right after he and Nat broke up

•Kind of dubious consent with Travis being on drugs when they slept together (Jackie didn’t know that though) and her convincing him to sleep with her after he says he’s in love with Nat

Jackie’s crimes are really just being a teenage girl and becoming a nihilist after finding out about Shauna and Jeff.

8. Coach Ben

•Slapped Misty

•Lead on a teenage girl into thinking they had a romantic connection

•Most likely committed cannibalism (Steven Krueger said that Ben’s disgust during the Snackie scene was more about how savagely the girls were eating Jackie and not about the cannibalism itself, he likely snuck just a little Jackie meat to stay alive)

•(Allegedly) Burned down a cabin full of teenagers with the intention of killing them

7. Travis

•Made blatant misogynistic comments

•Pointed a loaded gun at Nat

•Pushed Javi to the ground

•Slept with Jackie when he was (kind of) still with Nat

•Committed cannibalism (including eating his own brother)

•Made offerings to “The Wilderness”

•Cheated on his girlfriend with Nat in the adult timeline? (according to Nat in her hypnosis scene)

Travis’ crimes were mostly out of his control and solely for survival. And being a sexist, moody teenage boy in the 90s.

6. Van

•Made offerings to "The Wilderness", one of Lottie's main followers

•Committed cannibalism

•Hunted down Nat with the intention of killing her

•Allowed Javi to drown so she could eat him

•Told Travis she does not regret letting Javi die and eating him

•Called off the psych team for Lottie knowing that it would likely result in one of their deaths (was clearly willing to reinstate the hunt, which resulted in Nat's death)

We haven’t fully gotten to know adult Van yet, but I have a feeling, with the cold/numb shift we see in Van after Javi’s death and her seemingly still being a follower of The Wilderness in the adult timeline, she will shoot up this list when Season 3 comes out and we learn more about her.

5. Lottie

•Was the first to commune with “The Wilderness” and introduced it to the others

•Made offerings to “The Wilderness”

•Was the first Antler Queen

•SA’ed Travis and hunted him down with the intention of killing him during Doomcoming

•Committed cannibalism

•Accidentally killed Travis

•Drained Travis’ bank account after his death

•Lead an ethically questionable cult in the adult timeline

•Kidnapped Natalie and handcuffed her to a bed

•Suggested that the girls should reinstate the hunt and sacrifice themselves to “The Wilderness” again in the adult timeline

•Hunted down Shauna with the intention of killing her

While Lottie did serve as the first Antler Queen, her reign was centered around (mostly) harmless worshipping rituals and she seems to have mostly good intentions. Notably, she was not involved in the first card draw/hunt and seemed to disapprove of it. She also was not involved in Adam’s murder coverup. However, she did spearhead the girls’ descent. And the SA, questionable involvement in Travis’ death, and her reinstatement of the hunt are hard to ignore.

4. Natalie

•Attempted to kill her father

•Faked Javi’s death

•Committed cannibalism

•Allowed Javi to die in her place

•Accepted the role of Antler Queen

•Committed insurance fraud

•Blackmailed her former sponsor

•Breaking and entering

•Attempted to shoot the blackmailer (Jeff)

•Manipulated Kevyn into giving her confidential police records

•Stabbed Lisa’s hand with a fork

•Helped Shauna cut up and bury Adam’s body

•Joined Lottie’s cult and encouraged the others to join as well

Nat is interesting because she’s often considered to be the moral compass of the group, but she’s done a lot of bad stuff! What sets her apart is the guilt and remorse she feels after these events.

I’m putting her just slightly below Tai because Nat was not involved in any of what happened during Doomcoming, she has not yet hunted a person unlike the others, and she was less at fault for what happened to Javi because she didn’t really have a choice. However, she had a real descent in Season 2. You can see something shift in her after Javi’s death, so I think we’re going to see a much darker side of Nat from now on. She accepted the role as leader of a group that just hunted and ate a human being, so I have a feeling she is going to move up on this list as we learn more about what happened in the Wilderness.

3. Taissa

•Accidentally broke Allie's leg

•Committed cannibalism (unconsciously the first time but intentionally the second time)

•Partially participated in hunting Travis during Doomcoming

•Hunted down Nat with the intention of killing her

•Allowed Javi to drown so that she could eat him

•Traumatized the fuck out of her son

•Killed Biscuit and made a shrine with his severed head

•Helped Shauna hide Adam's body

•Intentionally got into a car crash which almost killed her wife

•Cheated on her wife with Van

•Called off the psych team for Lottie (knowing this would mean the card draw would become a real hunt?) (idk her role in that is confusing)

Taissa is hard to place on this list because a lot of the bad things she does (eating Jackie, Biscuit, crashing the car) are "The Bad One" taking over. Ultimately I placed her here because of the dark potential of The Bad One and how little control Taissa has over this persona.

Taissa did consciously hunt Nat, eat Javi, and help cover up Adam's death. And she called off the psych team knowing this could result in someone getting killed (although I think that was more Van’s influence).

2. Shauna

•Slept with her best friend’s boyfriend (and got pregnant with his child)

•SA’ed Travis, hunted him down, and attempted to kill him during Doomcoming

•Was the first to commit cannibalism

•Encouraged the others to eat Jackie

•Beat Lottie within an inch of her life

•Hunted down Nat with the intention of killing her

•Allowed Javi to drown so she could eat him

•Butchered Javi’s body

•That scene in the pilot where she’s…doing things to herself while looking at her daughter’s underage boyfriend

•Had an affair with Adam behind Jeff’s back

•Pointed a gun at a car thief and told him she really wanted to kill him

•Killed Adam, cut up and hid his body, and lied to the police about it

Shauna seems like a sweet and unassuming house wife on the outside, but she is secretly an adrenaline junkie who loves quote on quote “peeling the skin off a human corpse.” She really, really wanted to kill that minivan stealer, like to a concerning degree. Shauna, of course, has her soft moments and cares about her teammates, but she has a secret dark side that can definitely be bad news for those around her. I have a feeling Shauna will maintain this spot high up on the list as we learn more about what transpired in the Wilderness as well as where her adult self goes from where she left off in Season 2.

1. Misty

•Broke the flight transmitter

•Attempted to SA Coach Ben

•Drugged Coach Ben without his consent

•Drugged the entire team without their consent

•Committed cannibalism

•Made offerings to the Wilderness

•Accidentally (but also kind of intentionally) killed Crystal

•Hunted down Nat with the intention of killing her

•Pulled Nat away when she was trying to save Javi

•Allowed Javi to drown so she could eat him

•Committed elder abuse

•Hijacked Nat’s car

•Planted secret cameras in Nat’s hotel room

•Arrested for breaking and entering

•Kidnapped, held captive, and killed Jessica Roberts

•Helped Shauna cover up Adam’s murder

•Accidentally killed Natalie (while intentionally trying to kill Lisa)

Do I even need to explain? Misty is terrifying and absolutely a sociopath. Also, she’s canonically a serial killer. This girl is absolutely the most unhinged on the show and will likely remain in the top spot as future seasons come out.

[siriussslut]

I was wondering if you could do a regulus x reader smut. Where they're in a relationship and one night they're chilling in his dorm a bit drunk and regulus like sketching and drawing reader and she offers to be anatomy refference which leads to him edging her and sketching her while she's laid out infront of him while he's in her. And then after it's like ON.

this turned into sub!regulus which i wasn’t planning but is so 🤤🤤🤤

warnings: unprotected sex, praise kink, anal fingering, cutie sub regulus

masterlist

you take another swig of the bottle and then toss it back on regulus’ pillow. the two of you are lounging on his bed, drunk and giddy. he’s sketching you in the journal in his lap, glancing at you every few seconds as he draws.

you stick your face over his sketchbook.“how’s it going?”

“well, i’m drawing you, so beautifully.”

“you’re such a dork,” you giggle, glancing down at his page. your eyes stick to the way he drew your cleavage, obviously one of the parts he focused on the most.

“you only ever draw my top half. why don’t you draw a full body picture of me?”

“i need anatomy practice, i’m rusty,” he answers, continuing with his drawing.

your brain is fuzzy from the alcohol, stupid, so you push your tits above the neckline of your top. “draw my tits.”

his head snaps up. he flips to a new page, sketching the soft outline of your breasts.

you sit mostly still, slowly scooting closer and closer, bringing your chest nearer his face.

when he’s finished with his drawing of your breasts, he shows it to you, pressing a kiss atop one as you study it.

“it’s really good, regulus.” you look up at him through your lashes. “maybe i could help you with more anatomy?”

“yeah. why not?” his voice is breathy, a little too high. you remove your top completely, and then slip out of your skirt and your panties, tossing your clothes to the floor.

“you’re so pretty,” he whispers, staring as if he hasn’t seen you hundreds of times before.

you roll your eyes. “draw!”

he flips to a new page and begins his rough sketch, lining up your body parts. you’re sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, your dripping cunt on full display.

you slide one finger inside of yourself, moaning. regulus is now looking at you more than he’s drawing.

“i told you to draw, reg,” you say, breathy.

“can i… please can i touch?”

you nodding, pulling your fingers out.

he runs a finger through your folds, collecting your slick before pushing his pants to the floor. his cock is inside you in seconds.

you push his head back, hands on his throat, feeling his heart race beneath your fingertips. “draw, baby.”

his cock is quivering inside of you as he continues his drawing. you play with your clit, moaning and dripping on his erection.

you can tell how hard he’s resisting to fuck the living daylights out of you.

hours later, you’ve came more times than you can count, and he’s still waiting inside of you, drawing.

“i’m finished!” he suddenly exclaims.

you circle your fingers around your puffy clit. “show me.”

he turns the sketchbook to face you. you gasp. “oh, regulus it’s beautiful.” his cheeks color.

on the page, you’re finger fucking yourself, eyes shut tight, face screwed into a moan. your pussy is glistening wet, dripping on his cock.

you push his sketchbook aside, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips. “i have never been more turned on in my life.”

you run your tongue along his face, licking. you want to devour him whole, there is simply too much love and desire inside of you for one person.

you mumble against his slippery jawline. “you’re such a good boy, reggie. i know that was hard for you, and you did such a good job.” you grab his balls as you speak, tugging.

he gasps, cock twitching against your walls. “i love you,” he whispers, looking at you with blown out pupils, eyes foggy with lust.

you kiss his lips, pushing him down to the bed. “i’m gonna treat you so well,” you mumble between kisses and tongue. “you’re gonna come so many times.”

you fuck yourself on his cock, thrusting up and down. you pump lube onto your hand and slide it beneath his ass, grabbing onto a cheek before slipping into his hole.

he screams, arching his back. you fuck him with your hand, sliding in and out to the rhythm of your thrusts on his cock.

his ass clenches around you, cock jerking.

you don’t stop fucking him as he comes, instead grabbing his balls with your free hand, adding more stimulation. he shoots hot ropes of cum inside of you. it drips out onto his dick, thick and creamy.

you slip off of his cock, letting go of his ass. you slide down the length of his bare, sweaty body. he’s lying and panting, completely boneless. you pull his soft cock into your mouth, sucking.

he gasps, but bucks his hips into your face.

you grin around him, ready to make good on your promise.

[queenshelby]

The Accident (Part One)

Pairing: Reader & Cillian Murphy

Warning: Accident, Child Birth, Abuse, Religious Themes

Thank you @blondie-22 for this amazing idea!

The streets of Dublin buzzed with life. Cars were honking, pedestrians chatting, and the distant sound of laughter echoing against the stone buildings.

As you navigated through the chaos to attend one of your medical appointments that day, your thoughts were cloaked in a heavy fog of fear and regret.

With each bump of the road, you felt the weight of your current situation settling deeper into your chest, an anchor pulling you down.

“Is this all there is to my life?” you muttered under your breath, the question steeped in resignation as you were pregnant again and due to deliver your second child. You had dreamed of freedom, laughter, and love, dreams that now felt like whispers of someone else’s life.

The cityscape blurred as you maneuverer through the crowded streets, a painful reminder of all you had sacrificed.

“What if I run away from all this?” you thought to yourself, but just as quickly as this thought appeared in your mind, fear clutched at your heart. “Was it even possible and, if it was, where would you go?” you questioned yourself. You weren’t even meant to be here, in this country and you had no insurance, no visa, no rights.

Suddenly, a blaring horn sliced through your contemplation.

Bam! The jarring collision jolted you as your car jerked to a halt. "Fuck!" you cursed as you gripped the steering wheel, a wave of pain radiating from your abdomen. A moment of shock enveloped you. You glanced up to see the other driver, a sharp-dressed man with striking blue eyes, scrambling out of his car.

“What the hell were you thinking?” you shouted, pushing the door open and stepping onto the asphalt, your heart racing. Every nerve in your body was tingling with adrenaline and distress.

His voice was raised over the noise of traffic. “I’m sorry! I was—” He ran a hand through his gray-streaked hair, obviously flustered. “I was distracted!”

“Distracted? By what?” you retorted, biting back your anger as the stranger looked down at your swollen stomach, not bothering to answer your question.

“Are you okay?” the stranger asked as he took a step closer, his eyes widening. "We should probably get you to a hospital," he said, seeing how you were at least seven or eight months pregnant. "You need to get checked out," he told you but you shook your head.

"That's not necessary, just give me your insurance details," you snapped, feeling no worse than you did earlier that day.

He hesitated, clearly conflicted. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice softer now, the concern in his eyes apparent. “I will give you my insurance details, but I think you really need to get checked out because you are pregnant," you could hear the tremor in his voice.

“I am fine, but I am also in a rush, so can you just give me your details," you reiterated as frustrations poured out like a dam bursting.

“Please, I—” he began, but you cut him off, the rising pain in your abdomen drawing your focus. A tightening sensation gripped you, radiating outwards like ripples in a pond.

“Shit!” The breath left your lungs as what felt like an actual contraction surged through you. You doubled over slightly, clutching your belly, eyes wide with panic.

The stranger’s demeanor changed instantly. “I will call an ambulance," he announced, but you grasped his wrist and shook your head.

“No!” You spat out, rising back to your full height, anger battling with the pain. “No ambulance," you insisted, your voice strained. “I can’t...fuck," you cursed as, suddenly, you felt a pop inside, a desperate prelude to the reality settling in. You were going into labor—now, and fast.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” His voice was insistent. You caught a glimpse of genuine concern twisting with urgency in those piercing blue eyes.

"I mean I can't!" you shouted, throwing your hands up in frustration. “You have to help me!”

“Help you? How? I’m not—” he stammered, fumbling with his phone, glancing back and forth between you and the device as if it could conjure a solution as he watched your water break, your breaths coming out in labored breaths.

“Just focus, will you?” you snapped, the urgency in your tone stopping him mid-thought. “You hit me! You deal with it!”

"I am calling a fucking ambulance, if you like it or not," he insisted, the panic pushing through as he stepped closer again and guided you towards your car. “You need to stay calm,” he said, trying to exude a confidence he didn't quite feel. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

You snatched your gaze up to meet his and for a brief moment, the emotional chaos unfurled like a ribbon between you; there was fear, pain, and something that echoed with unspoken possibility. You swallowed hard, trying to chase away the rising tide of panic.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone” you started, but another layer of pain sliced through you, cutting off your protest as you watched the stranger call the ambulance.

"Yes, she is defiantly in labor. Corner of O'Connell and Abbey Street. You need to hurry!" he spoke into the phone, his voice steadying with purpose. As he hung up and turned back to you, determination flashed in his eyes.

"It hurts so fucking much," you gasped, gripping the side of your car for support. Your knees felt weak, and the pavement beneath you was cold and unforgiving.

"I know it does." There was a calmness in his voice as he moved closely again, scanning the alley around you. "Can you walk? We should get out of the street."

You nodded slowly, though every step felt like trudging through molasses. The tightness in your abdomen ebbed and flowed, and before you could respond, another wave of pain surged through you.

“Breathe, just breathe. In and out,” he instructed softly, eyes locked onto yours. “I’m Cillian, by the way.”

“Great, now we’re on a first-name basis, huh?” you retorted, but there was a small semblance of humor piercing through the tension.

"I am Y/N," you gasped as he guided you towards a nearby alley, away from the cacophony of the street. The shadows cast by the old buildings felt oddly comforting, a temporary sanctuary from the chaos outside.

"Y/N, listen to me," Cillian said, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "You’re strong. You can do this."

You let out a weak laugh as another contraction rolled through you, shoving down the warmth rising from the connection you felt in those words. "I’ve never been strong," you gasped, clutching your belly. “I’m just… scared.” The truth slipped out, raw and unguarded amidst the chaos.

"Being scared isn't such a bad thing," Cillian replied, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It just means you're about to do something incredible. Let’s focus on what we can control. Can you tell me what you feel?"

Another wave hit, harder this time, sending a shudder down your spine. "It feels like…I can't explain it," you stuttered, struggling to keep your composure. “Like I need to push," you shook your head, tears threatening to spill over. "I can’t do this here. Not here! Please… I can’t."

He took a deep breath, grounding himself amidst the turmoil. “Y/N, look at me. We don’t have a lot of time. If you need to push, let’s get you in a position that helps.” His voice was calm, but it bore an urgency that broke through your fear.

“What do you know about childbirth?!” you practically yelled as another contraction washed over you, not even sure why you were so mad—perhaps it was instinct, or the result of the situation spiraling out of your control.

“Not much, but I've done this before, about sixteen years ago, when my wife went into labor unexpectedly," he replied, pretending to be confident even in the face of your escalating panic. He was a good actor, that's for sure, and he knew that what you needed the most right now was someone who alluded to calmness.

"Alright, fuck! Let's do this," you gasped as you reached beneath your dress to remove your undergarments and reposition yourself against the cool brick wall of the alley.

Cillian knelt beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. With a few quick breaths, he murmured "push when you need to okay?"

You nodded, and with each contraction, you could feel the reality of what was happening. The walls of the alley faded, and all that existed were the sounds of your heavy breaths and the warmth of Cillian’s encouragement beside you.

“Y/N, you’re doing great,” he said, a note of admiration creeping into his voice. “Just keep breathing. I’m here, okay?”

“Okay…” you gasped, trying to focus on his voice rather than the overwhelming pain. The sharp, twisting sensations rolled through your body, and instinct took over. You pushed.

“Good! Just like that!” Cillian encouraged, eyes fixed on you.

You gritted your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut as you bore down, feeling the fire behind the pain intensifying. “Shit! This hurts!” you cried out, the sound echoing off the brick walls.

“I know, I know! Just a bit more, Y/N,” Cillian urged, his hands steadying you as you leaned against the wall, the coolness against your skin somewhat soothing. “This is it! You’re doing it! Keep pushing, you’re almost there!”

The tension in your body coiled tighter as the next wave came crashing in, and with a primal instinct, you pushed again, feeling a surge of energy mingled with agony. A strangled scream tore from your lips.

“Come on! Just a bit more!” Cillian’s voice broke through the chaos, a beacon of hope.

With each push, you could feel the world narrowing down to just you and this moment, this life you were about to bring into the world. Finally, with one last, gut-wrenching effort, the pressure exploded outward.

"I can feel the head I think," Cillian encouraged, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned closer, intense focus etched across his features. “You’re almost there, Y/N!”

You gasped, struggles ebbing into a wild, raw energy that pushed through the exhaustion. “I can’t… I can’t,” you cried out, tears pooling as the sense of impending life overwhelmed you.

“Yes, you can,” he coaxed, unwavering.

With a determined breath, you clutched at the cold brick wall, grounding yourself as the pain peaked again. You pushed. A shout echoed down the alley, raw and primal, fueled by an instinct far deeper than the immediate ache.

Cillian’s hands were there, ready, steady. “That’s it! One more strong push, Y/N!”

This was the moment you had been waiting for, the glimpse of a brighter future despite the past's shadows looming over you.

“Push!” His voice rose with urgency, pushing you along with him.

And then, with a final forceful cry, you pushed once more, feeling the world blur around you. Darkness crept in at the edges of your vision, but you could hear Cillian’s voice, vibrant and reinforcing amid the chaos.

“Breathe, Y/N! Breathe!” he urged, and somehow, that single command kept you anchored.

Suddenly, you felt it: the unmistakable release as your baby slipped into the world. A rush of warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, the pain faded into the background, replaced by a wave of power and wonder.

With a final surge of energy, you felt your daughter’s small body leave yours entirely. A loud wail pierced the alley, sharp and full of life, echoing off the walls like a celebratory shout. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart racing not just with pain but with overwhelming relief.

"You’ve done it!” Cillian exclaimed, his voice breaking as he gently cradled the newborn in his hands. “It’s a girl!”

Your heart swelled as you glanced at the tiny being. Tears streamed down your face, a mix of exhaustion and joy flooding through you.

Without words Cillian took off his jumper and wrapped her up in it, having instantly recognized the importance of warmth. “She’s beautiful,” he said, his voice brimming with awe. You marveled at Cillian in this moment, so focused and competent, a stark contrast to the chaos and fear you knew from the life you were trying to escape.

You then broke out in tears , the full weight of everything crashing over you. “I…I can’t believe I just did that,” you whispered, struggling to catch your breath.

Cillian knelt beside you, cradling the swaddled newborn in his arms. “You did," he said softly, his eyes bright with admiration. “And she seems pretty perfect.”

As you gently touched your daughter’s cheek, a warmth spread through you, a flicker of hope igniting in your heart. “What do I…what do I do now?” you asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

“First, let’s get you both some medical attention. I am sure the ambulance is on it's way and they will take you to the hospital." Cillian said but that was not what you were thinking about.

“No hospital,” you said firmly, your heart racing at the thought. It was an instinctive refusal, a protective urge that coursed through your veins.

“Y/N, you need to be checked out,” Cillian replied, his voice a mix of concern and insistence. “You just delivered a baby in an alley. You’re going to need care. For you and her.”

“No hospital,” you repeated but the wail of sirens echoed through the streets already, drawing closer. Relief washed over you despite the circumstances. You turned your gaze back to the baby cradled in Cillian’s arms, her little face turned towards you, tiny fists waving in the air.

“She’s so perfect,” you murmured, awe weaving through your voice.

“She is,” Cillian confirmed, his eyes sparkling with pride. “What are you going to call her?" he asked and you quickly responded.

“Mika.” The name slipped out of your mouth before you fully realized it was the one you had secretly cherished. “Mika… it means ‘new moon ,’” you whispered, hoping that with your second daughter having been born, you would find a way to new beginnings.

Cillian's gaze softened, understanding the significance. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently just as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the mouth of the alley, its lights flashing an urgent dance of red and blue.

“See? Help is here,” Cillian said, glancing up as the paramedics jumped from the vehicle, faces serious but efficient.

You held your breath, part of you hesitant to let go of this moment—the intimacy of the alley, the fragile life cradled between you, and the bond you had formed with this stranger less than an hour ago. But reality swirled around you, heavy and looming.

“Okay,” you conceded, your voice barely a whisper. You took a shaky breath, rejuvenated by a flicker of spirit. “I’ll go with them to get checked out," you told Cillian who seemed instantly please.

“Good,” Cillian said, a small smile breaking through the worry etched on his face.

The paramedics approached, two women with kind but focused expressions, as you shifted from Cillian to their care. One of them knelt beside you, her tone warm and reassuring. “Hi there! You did such an amazing job. Let’s see that little one,” she said, her hands expertly taking Mika into her arms before turning to you, “and let’s make sure you’re feeling alright too.”

Cillian stepped back slightly, allowing the paramedics to assist. “It was nice meeting you Y/N,” he said, the pride and relief in his eyes shining through before he asked the paramedics which hospital they were taking you to.

You glanced up at him, the weight of everything beating hard in your chest. “Thank you, Cillian,” you said softly, ache filling your voice as you realized how much more than just a stranger he had been to you in the chaos. "I couldn't have done it without you," you said and Cillian held your gaze, his blue eyes flickering with an intensity you couldn’t quite understand.

“You did everything, Y/N. I just happened to be there,” he replied, his tone earnest and protective. "I will visit you and Mika at the hospital later if that's okay," he then added, his words filled with genuine concern.

"Really?" you asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude washing over you. It felt strange to have someone who cared, especially after everything you had endured.

"Of course. I want to make sure you both are okay," he nodded, his expression serious.

The paramedic gently placed Mika into your arms, a fresh wave of overwhelming emotion coursing through you as you cradled her. She was so small, so fragile, and full of life. “You’ll be okay, little one,” you whispered, tears brimming again as you gazed down at her while the stranger quietly disappeared from the scene, attending some matters relating the accident as police too arrived and began to take statements from those involved and you wondered whether you would ever see him again.

"It's not every day an Oscar winner delivers your child now, is it?" one of the paramedics said teasingly after Cillian had disappeared and you did not know what she was talking about.

"What do you mean?" you asked she was already helping you into the ambulance with Mika swaddled close to your chest.

“Cillian Murphy? The guy who just helped you deliver your daughter," the paramedic explained, her voice tinged with excitement. “He’s a big deal around here. You're lucky!"

You blinked, momentarily stunned but didn't really care. You haven't watched a movie in years, and you most certainly did not feel lucky about the situation you were in.

Your life was a mess. It was awful and complicated, but as you sat in the ambulance, the warmth of Mika against you felt like the first tender thread pulling you from the darkness.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

[lovezbrownies]

Julie with a golden retriever reader

oomf i wrote half of this half asleep i am going to be busy for the next two days so i needed to post it, if you see any mistakes or shitty writing just ignore it for now ><

Soft on you. (Yandere!Mad Scientist x GN!Reader.)

Julie's Masterlist - General Masterlist

Synopsis: A nice fluffy time with your cold calculating girlfriend!

Julie McCanister x GN!Reader

Warnings: Julie acts cold but actually is warm

Julie’s office was a sanctuary of silence, where the relentless hum of the computer and the rustling of papers created a symphony of productivity. In this controlled environment, Julie found solace. Her mind operated with a precision akin to the algorithms she worked with—logical, detached, and almost robotic in its efficiency. Each piece of data, each variable, fell into place with a calculated inevitability. This was her domain, her world where chaos was meticulously tamed and where emotions had little room to disrupt the order she had carefully constructed.

Yet, despite the serene predictability of her scientific realm, there was an unpredictable element that frequently disrupted her meticulously ordered life. That element was you.

You entered her world with a boundless, almost reckless energy, a stark contrast to the calm, controlled atmosphere of her lab. Your presence was like a vibrant splash of color on a monochromatic canvas, and Julie often found herself both bemused and captivated by your ceaseless enthusiasm. Your energy was a whirlwind that swept through her world, leaving a trail of laughter and lightness in its wake. Today, as you burst into the room, it was no different. The door swung open with a cheerful push, and there you were, radiating excitement as though you were a sunbeam breaking through a cloudy day.

“Jules!” you called out, your voice a musical lilt that cut through the ambient hum of the office like a knife. You skipped into the room, an infectious grin plastered across your face. The sheer vibrancy of your presence seemed to ripple through the air, a stark contrast to the sterile environment. Your arms were hidden behind your back, adding an element of playful suspense to your appearance. “Guess what I brought you!”

Julie’s fingers paused mid-type, her eyes flicking away from the screen to regard you with a mixture of curiosity and mild irritation. Her sharp, analytical gaze met your effervescent one, and she struggled to reconcile the dissonance between your vibrant energy and her own more restrained demeanor. But there was an undercurrent of something deeper in her gaze—an obsessive attention to every detail of you that she couldn’t quite hide, despite her best efforts to maintain her composure. “I’m not in the mood for guessing games,” she replied, her tone clipped but not unkind. There was an underlying softness in her words, a reluctant acknowledgment of the warmth you brought into her otherwise orderly world.

You, however, were undeterred. If anything, your grin widened, fueled by the challenge of drawing her out of her shell. “Oh, come on,” you persisted, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just one guess! I promise it’s something you’ll love.”

Julie sighed, her lips twitching with the barest hint of a smile. “If it’s something I’ll love, then it’s probably coffee,” she surmised, her tone carrying a hint of resigned amusement. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a practiced air of nonchalance, though her gaze betrayed a flicker of anticipation. Her mind was already racing ahead, fixated on the idea of what might be hidden behind your back. The prospect of you surprising her, of you bringing something into her life that she hadn't meticulously planned for, intrigued her deeply.

You shook your head, an exaggerated gasp escaping your lips. “Nope! Well, I did get you coffee too, but that’s not the surprise.” With a flourish, you revealed the small box of chocolates, its golden foil shimmering under the office lights. “Ta-da!”

Julie’s eyebrow arched in an almost imperceptible show of amusement as she took in the sight of the chocolates. The box was elegant, its packaging a testament to the thought you’d put into choosing it. She had always been a creature of habit, preferring practicality over indulgence, but there was something undeniably charming about the way you had gone out of your way to select a treat that you knew would bring her joy. The meticulous care with which you chose the chocolates was a detail she fixated on with an intensity that belied her usual demeanor.

“Chocolates,” she stated, her voice flat but not devoid of warmth. Her fingers reached out to take the box from you, brushing against yours in the process. The contact was brief but electric, a momentary connection that spoke volumes more than words could convey. She was acutely aware of every nuance of the touch, a testament to her obsessive nature. “I suppose you think this will somehow improve my productivity.”

You laughed, the sound a bright, melodic chime that filled the room with its infectious joy. “Well, I thought it might provide a little boost. Plus, I know you like these,” you said, your eyes alight with a mixture of mischief and affection. “Even if you pretend not to be obsessed with them.”

Julie’s gaze softened as she examined the box of chocolates, her usually stoic expression giving way to a rare, fleeting smile. It was a smile that rarely appeared outside the confines of your company, a testament to the subtle impact you had on her otherwise meticulously controlled emotions. Her fingers lingered on the box, an indication of how thoroughly she was savoring the moment. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though there was no real edge to her words. The fondness in her voice was unmistakable, even if she tried to disguise it behind her usual veneer of detachment. Her obsessive fixation on you and the little things you did for her was a side of her she seldom allowed to show.

“Only for you,” you replied, your tone light and playful as you reached over to gently nudge her with your shoulder. The contact was casual, yet it conveyed an intimacy that spoke of the deep bond between you. “I thought you could use a break. And, you know, who doesn’t love a little sugar?”

Julie rolled her eyes with a barely concealed smirk, though she took the chocolate box with a more genuine gesture of appreciation. She selected a piece, savoring the rich flavor with an almost begrudging acknowledgment of its merits. The treat was as delicious as she had expected, a small indulgence that offered a brief respite from the relentless grind of her work. The way she savored each bite spoke of her intense attention to detail and her obsessive nature, even when it came to the smallest pleasures.

“You’re ridiculous,” Julie said, though the words lacked their usual bite. There was a softness in her tone, a quiet gratitude that she rarely expressed so openly. She met your gaze with an unspoken message—a message that said she was thankful, even if she didn’t always know how to express it in the conventional ways.

You beamed at her, your eyes sparkling with genuine delight. “Anytime, Jules. I’m always here for you.”

Julie’s gaze softened, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something more vulnerable. She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken emotions, of a connection that transcended the boundaries of her usually controlled demeanor. It was a kiss that said more than words ever could, a silent affirmation of the love and appreciation that lay beneath her stoic exterior.

As you pulled away, your eyes met hers, and in that fleeting moment, there was a shared understanding—a recognition of the quiet, profound bond that existed between you. It was a bond that didn’t require grand gestures or elaborate declarations, but rather a simple, honest connection that was evident in every touch, every glance, and every shared moment of intimacy.

With a contented sigh, Julie settled back into the cushions, her arm slipping around you in a protective embrace. The movie might have ended, but the warmth of the evening lingered, a gentle reminder of the love and affection that defined your relationship. And as you snuggled closer, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the quiet comfort of each other’s presence—a presence that was both grounding and uplifting, a perfect balance of logic and love, science and spontaneity.

In the dim light of the living room, as the last echoes of the film faded into silence, you and Julie remained nestled together, a perfect harmony of contrasts. The night was still young, and in the sanctuary of your shared space, there was a profound sense of peace, a quiet contentment that spoke of the deep, unspoken connection you shared.

The evening’s warmth had settled around the two of you like a comforting blanket, the soft glow of the living room lights casting a gentle aura over the space. The movie had ended, its final credits rolling silently on the screen, leaving behind the lingering echoes of laughter and the rustle of popcorn. The room was now filled with the soothing sound of your soft breaths and the occasional flicker of a nearby candle.

As you nestled closer into the cushions, the gentle rhythm of your breathing creating a steady, calming backdrop, Julie’s fingers traced idle patterns on your arm. Her touch was deliberate and tender, a stark contrast to the otherwise calculated precision with which she approached her work. Each caress was a reflection of her deep-seated affection, a silent acknowledgment of the way your presence brought an unexpected warmth into her meticulously controlled life.

Your head rested against her chest, your eyes half-closed in contentment as you basked in the afterglow of the evening. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest, a soothing reminder of her presence. It was moments like these that you cherished—the quiet, intimate spaces where words were unnecessary, and emotions spoke through simple gestures.

Julie’s gaze shifted from the flickering candlelight to you, her eyes softening with a blend of admiration and affection. She took a deep breath, allowing herself to savor the serene moment before her. With an almost imperceptible shift, she tilted her head slightly, her lips brushing against your temple in a soft, fleeting kiss, as though she'd become addicted to kissing you as of late—like the multiple times she'd peppered your skin in kisses when you're dead asleep. The contact was tender, a gentle press of warmth and affection that spoke volumes more than any elaborate declaration could.

The kiss was brief but full of meaning, a quiet declaration of her feelings in a way that felt both natural and deeply sincere. Julie’s lips lingered just a fraction longer than necessary, her touch lingering with a tenderness that contrasted with her usual reserved demeanor. It was a moment of vulnerability and connection, a soft, unspoken acknowledgment of the deep bond that existed between you.

As she pulled back, her eyes met yours with a silent, affectionate promise. There was no need for words; the kiss had conveyed everything that needed to be said. You smiled up at her, the warmth of the moment reflected in your eyes. Julie’s gaze softened further, her usual composure giving way to a rare, genuine smile that spoke of the profound affection she held for you.

In the quiet of the evening, the gentle embrace of the kiss lingered, a small but significant testament to the love and connection that defined your relationship. It was a reminder that even in the most ordinary moments, the depth of your bond was always present, a quiet, unspoken truth that provided a comforting anchor in the midst of life’s complexities.

[the-fiction-witch]

Little One

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Y/n (Brothel Worker) Rating - 18 + brothel / sex work / nudity / blow jobs / full sex / fingering /pinv /cinv Word Count - 1235

Daemon sat in a pleasure house down the street of Silk. He was frustrated and wanted to engage in some depravities. But his usual whore wasn't here so he had to settle for a new girl. The master of the house stood offering some of his best girls for the prince.

“No.” Daemon barked girl after girl only taking breaks to sip his wine,

That was until… Y/n, she swore a long white dress with lacing down the front, the ties well worn,

She walked in and bowed to the prince playing with her hair,

"What do you think of this one, my prince?" The master asked,

“Ah, she's... intriguing,” Daemon says with a sly smile, his eyes locked onto Y/n's body. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the subtle hints of wear on her dress. “Tell me, little one,” he says, his voice low and husky, “what's your name?”

"Y/n, my prince," she cooed,

"She's very beautiful, never had a single complaint, very submissive, she always obeys" the master said,

“Beautiful, yes,” Daemon says, his eyes still fixed on Y/n's curves.“Come here, little one,” he says, beckoning her closer.

she nodded and stepped over to the bed and stood between his legs,

“Good girl,” Daemon purrs, running his fingers along the hem of her dress. “You're eager, aren't you?” He glances up at her face, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I like that.” With a gentle tug, he pulls her closer, his hands slipping under the fabric of her dress to cup her hips. “So soft,” he whispers, his breath hot against her skin. “You feel like silk, little one.” His thumbs dance across her hipbones, sending shivers down her spine. “Take off your dress,” Daemon orders, his voice firm but husky. “I want to see you, Y/n.”

The master of the house steps forward, a hint of a smile on his face. “Don't worry, my prince,” he says. “She's -.”

“I want to see for myself.” Daemon demanded, “Go on little one.”

Y/n hesitates for a moment before slowly beginning to untie the laces of her dress.

Daemon watched her with a growing smile,

Once it was unlaced she pushed it to the floor revealing her naked body, her breasts bounce a little as the dress is removed, and her cunt glistens from the excitement of the moment,

"A beauty is she not my prince?" The master cooed,

“Indeed she is,” Daemon agrees, his eyes drinking at the sight of Y/n's naked body. His hand slips between her legs, parting them slightly, his hand moving up to rub his thumb against her clit burying three fingers inside her,

She gasped throwing back her head with a little hint of a moan as he began to thrust his fingers at a merciless pace,

Daemon chuckled smugly at her, “Show me,” he whispers, his voice low and urgent. “Show me what you've learned here.”

She nods and she moves away slightly dropping to her knees, she unlaced his britches pulling out his half-hard cock, she took him in her hand and began lapping her tounge against him and gently suckling his head,

“Mmm,” Daemon moans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, He feels himself growing harder, lengthening in her mouth as she sucks and laps at him. Her lips were warm and wet, and Daemon can feel the vibrations of her humming through every cell of his body. He threads his fingers through her hair, holding her head in place as he begins to thrust gently into her mouth. “Yes, like that,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own ragged breathing.

Y/n's hands come up to grip his thighs, holding onto him as he fucks her mouth with slow, deliberate strokes.

“She will go just fine, now fuck off!” Daemon growled,

"enjoy her my prince, anything you need simply toll the bell" The master nodded leaving them alone together

Daemon's eyes never leave Y/n's face as he watches her work over his cock, He can feel the tension building inside him, his balls drawing up tight as he approaches the edge. But he wants to savor this, to enjoy every last second of it. So he slows down, letting Y/n set the pace as she continues to lick and suck at him. “Ohh your good little one, your very good,” Daemon finds himself getting lost in the sensation of her mouth on him. He starts to hum, a low vibration that builds in intensity as Y/n picks up speed. Daemon's hands tighten in her hair, his fingers digging deeper into her scalp as he starts to lose control… Suddenly, he freezes, his entire body tensing up as he holds perfectly still.

Y/n looks up at him, confusion etched on her face, but Daemon doesn't give her a chance to react.

With a swift motion, he spins her around, slamming her down onto the bed, Their mouths crash together in a fierce kiss as Daemon's cock surges forward, burying itself deep within Y/n's waiting pussy.

she moans in shock and surprise as he thrusts so suddenly, but she arched her hips up for him giving him the perfect angle

Daemon's eyes flash open, his pupils dilating as he buries himself deeper inside Y/n's slick warmth. He can feel her muscles contracting around him, milking him for more as he pounds into her with increasing ferocity.

Y/n's moans grow louder, as she wraps her legs around Daemon's waist, holding him tight. Her nails dig into his skin, leaving crescent-shaped marks as she clings to him for support. The bed creaks and groans beneath their combined weight, the sound echoing through the room as they move in perfect syncopation.

Daemon's chest heaves with exertion, his sweat-drenched hair clinging to his forehead as he drives himself deeper and deeper into Y/n's willing body.

“I'm going to make you scream,” Daemon growls, his voice low and menacing as he increases the tempo of his thrusts.

Y/n's eyes fly wide, her mouth opening in a silent scream as Daemon's cock pistons in and out of her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her entire body. Her nails rake across his back, leaving bloody scratches as she tries to cling to him for dear life.

But Daemon doesn't care - he's too far gone, consumed by his own desire. He leans forward, his teeth bared as he bites down on Y/n's shoulder, marking her as his own. The pain mixes with the pleasure, creating a maelstrom of sensations that threaten to consume them both whole. And then, in an instant, it's over.

Daemon freezes, his cock buried deep within Y/n's trembling body as he comes with a roar, spilling his seed into her waiting womb.

she cooed softly stroking the muscles on his hips helping him to milk his orgasm and ride it out with her gentle hip shifts "Are you pleased my prince?"

Daemon's chest heaves with exhaustion as he slowly comes back to reality, his vision blurring at the edges. He looks down at Y/n, his eyes locking onto hers, “Yes,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper as he slowly pulls out, “Fuck,” He collapses down on the bed, “...what- what was your name again?”

“Y/n” she smiled,

“Y/n…” he nodded wiping the sweat from his brow, “Fuck… I am going to be seeing you again.” He growled pulling her into his arms and nibbling her neck, “Would you like that little one?”

“I very much would my prince,”

“Good girl,” He cooed pulling her into a sweet but still passionate kiss, 

[tk-duveraun]

Yue Qi isn't quite allowed to draw his spiritual sword, but he's not explicitly NOT allowed, so he plans to sneak to Wan Jian Peak after hours and get his sword so he can save xiao-Jiu.

Only, as soon as he sets foot on the rainbow bridge, he runs into some shidi from An Ding having a crisis in the middle of the night. He helps.

It's several days before he has enough of a lull in his duties that he feels well-rested enough to make the attempt again. He needs the strongest sword possible to save xiao-Jiu.

Upon reaching Wan Jian Peak, he discovers there was an explosion just as the disciples were cleaning up for the night and now it's like an agitated ant hill. Yue Qi sighs and helps.

Sadly the fallout and paperwork and prospective safety measures take up an entire month. Yes, his cultivation is improving, but he needs to leave NOW.

His next attempt is thwarted by an entire crowd of disciples, a mix of bai zhan and xian shu. They're fighting because...? Someone said someone else said they were weak? Uncultured? Yue Qi might have expected the blow out with ku xing and that would have resulted in less property damage.

He pushed back another month, but at least that one shidi from An Ding brings him some nice trees and a fruit as thanks for his earlier help. Yue Qi can't put a name to the fruit, even as he eats it, but he dares not ask anyone and reveal his ignorance.

The next night, invigorated by the kindness and the gifts, Yue Qi finally, FINALLY makes it to the sword wall and claims the Xuan Su sword.

He wakes two days later on Qian Cao from the resulting qi deviation. His master visits. He is equal parts disappointed and pleased that he snuck out by managed to claim such a worthy sword

The moment he's gone, Yue Qi climbs out of the window and returns to his quarters. After changing and grabbing his go-bag he teaches himself how to fly on the sword while hurtling toward xiao-Jiu.

His bag has more money in it than he remembered saving, but Qiu Jianluo isn't willing to sell xiao-Jiu anyway

That's alright. No one knows Yue Qi is there and when there are no survivors, no one ever will. He leaves xiao-Jiu at the base of the mountain with his go bag and all of the money so he can approach the sect after enough time has passed to allay and possible suspicions regarding the fire at the Qiu manor.

Yue Qi presents his shishu with a letter from his good friend Shen Jiu and requests that shishu please evaluate him for cultivation potential.

Yue Qi suspects that his shishu knows every rotten detail of the situation, but he only smiles and agrees to a meeting. Before Yue Qi leaves, his shishu says, "You know, I hear disciple Shang was made head disciple of An Ding. It would serve you well to have a good relationship."

.

.

Disciple Shang is the nervous shidi. Yue Qi truly believes shishu knows everything.

[grandisknight]

to wish upon a star

summary: Xavier gifts you a token of his affection, paired with promises to fulfill whatever you wish upon him.

tags: nsfw (mdni), established relationship, afab!reader, fluff (at first), kissing, feelings, crying, banter, teasing, body worship, eventual smut, pwp, breast play, improper use of light evol, consent checks, ring play, v fingering, mirror sex, dirty talk, finger sucking, handjob, p in v, creampie, ‘i love you,’ implied/referenced sex

+ wc: 7.6k | ao3 version

notes: inspired by the affinity 100 rings! i started this when i got said rings with xavier like… last month… oops. let’s pretend their promise rings are actually On their ring fingers 🤫 (in-game they’re on the middle ones…) this is like honestly 90% smut and 10% feelings so take that as you will! also song cameo is ‘must be love’ by laufey c:

dividers from cafekitsune

“I can’t believe you pulled this off,” you spoke in awe to Xavier.

When he had mentioned needing your hand measurements before, you were sure it was for your worn-out combat gloves that had seen better days. It seemed natural, largely due in part to a passing conversation from just days ago. He heard out your concerns then, and agreed it’d be best to invest in a new pair.

But now, there was a silver metal wrapped perfectly around your finger in its place. Surreal, it shined with every angle of your admiring hand. Delicate jewels inlaid all around to meet at the central place, a dazzling shooting star. Everything about it was a perfect capsule of him. It was now a piece of you too, a promise to the twinkling cosmos that sealed your affection.

Xavier’s hand clasped over yours, his own band glinting just the same and lightly clinking at the contact. His star pressed to the engraving of the smaller equal, a completed puzzle that only the two of you held the pieces to. “Now whenever you wish upon a star, you can look here.”

His fingers quietly thread into your counterpart, bringing them to his lips and a gentle kiss graced your knuckles. Peering through his lashes, the kind pools of blue searched yours, reflecting a sea of stars that found their home in you.

“Are you saying I can’t ask this star of mine for a wish anymore?” A lighthearted remark was all that it was, but you still caught the surprise in his eyes at the sound of it.

They soon settled into crescents, a small smile pulling at his lips. “No. This star will always, always be the first to hear your wishes.”

Such an earnestness in his honest confession pulled at your heartstrings, eliciting yet another awe from you and a chuckle in his place. Xavier angled your hands, lips brushing over the band to prove his words. “Make a wish now, and I’m sure it’ll be granted.”

“Really?” You pull your hand away, only to cup his jaw in beckoning. “I wish upon my star for him to kiss me right now.”

He lets out a lofty sigh then, the tip of his nose meeting yours in proximity. “Your wish is my command.”

Xavier’s lips tenderly pressed into yours, the plush pillows melting almost immediately upon contact. A hint of warm vanilla and honey tinted his kiss, lingering traces of the milk tea from earlier fragrant all throughout. It was slow, practiced and careful—to admire the love he had waited eons for, sealing the reality he had once thought would be a far away dream.

No sooner did he quietly ask for permission for something more, tongue ardently pushing against yours. It was granted with a simple parting of your lips and a tilt of the head, more than happy to oblige. Xavier took greater care to memorize you then, tracing the contours of your canines and sucking in the warmth you returned to him. A low moan passed from his throat and into yours, his hands searching for your waist in an effort to draw you closer.

Parting for a moment of breath, you gently thumb at his cheek and realize how flushed his skin had become. Rosy from the shell of his ear, spreading across the skin just below his fluttering lashes and sinking into the lines of his neck—if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he just came home from an intensive workout, the poor thing.

You could only snicker at the way he blindly chased for your missing lips, causing him to finally peel open what was a lidded gaze of disappointment and pause.

“Someone’s impatient,” you muse. Your forehead meets his and a whisper of his breath tickles your face as he huffs lightly.

“And someone is the reason behind it,” Xavier points out.

The moment was calm, only the soft puffs of breath and thudding hearts echoed through the space you shared. His fingers dimple into the plush of your sides in an off-beat pattern, a quiet hum of notes resonating from his throat. Arms wrapped around his neck, the two of you began to slowly sway to a gentle melody. Occasionally, Xavier would swap out the notes for a mumbling of the lyrics—

I’m all in, I’m fallin’… Can’t get back up… Can’t think right, too tongue-tied… It must be love…

Padded footsteps attempted to follow such a tune, your bodies soon naturally flowing with time and dancing amidst the comforts of his living room. Your muscle memory led to a simple one-two step of a waltz once put to use from a mission of the past. And while practice did not make perfect, it aged in the progress you’ve made since then, now well attuned to his footsteps and his to yours. You found yourself resting your cheek against the square of his chest, humbly feeling each vibrato of his song.

“By the way.” Xavier suddenly speaks up, the soft notes coming to a halt.

He watches as you look to meet his gaze, and oh, you were truly beautiful. The light of his life—undeniably he was enamored, a lost cause and irrevocably yours. Not like he would have it any other way, and a skip in his heart’s beat proves to him just as much. He nearly forgets the words he wanted to relay to you, stunning him into silence the longer he  looked at you. A hand brushes a strand of your hand to rest neatly behind your ear, moving to your chin and tilting to meet his lips in a quick kiss.

Reminding himself, reminding you.

“Mm?” You mumbled against him, though made no effort to protest and returned the peck in affection. A series of blinks met your gaze when you pulled back, fluttering glimpses of a curious blue drinking you whole. 

“Using your Xavier cipher again? What could it be…” Your lips pursed in thought, and he could only press yet another quick kiss at the endearing sight.

His voice lowers in a request that holds your breath in anticipation. “You’re also my shooting star. Won’t you grant me a wish?”

———

Time blurred itself into a dizzying sequence that landed yourselves in the dip of his comforters, hands unabashedly making quick work of your clothes and his. Somewhere, someplace were the mixed fabrics—in a pile saved for a later time to deal with. Here, the thin layers of your undergarments were the only barriers to complete entry of enveloping each other in bare warmth. 

A light sheen of sweat speckled your skin, fingers gripping his shoulders and a huff pushing past your lips. You squirmed beneath him, his larger frame bracketing yours as he added yet another flower of red to decorate your neck. A kiss of consolation fluttered over the newfound mark, and Xavier dragged his lips to the centerpiece of your collarbone.

“Xavier.”

“Mm?”

He looked up at you then, azure stared lost in the cloudiness of his desires. His calming beauty had shifted into something sharper, keenly observing the ways he could devour you whole. A stark contrast to the bright, cheerful twinkle from just moments ago. It hammered your heart into a thundering pace, and Xavier could tell. 

His lips curled then, slowly kissing his way down your sternum, stopping just above the place that exposed your flustered state. Hands smoothed themselves from your sides down to the high of your thighs, parting them deftly to slot himself between the newfound space. Soft massages of his fingers melted into your skin, patiently waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Xavier reminds you. A tentative peck places itself between your breasts, before his chin lightly rests upon it. 

“No, we can keep going.” You reach to rake fingers through his silver locks, brushing the soft parting away in revealing his furrowed brow. A thumb traces the thin hairs to smooth the tension, working instantly as they settled and you hummed. “You never said what your wish was. How am I supposed to grant it if you don’t tell me?”

“It’s you,” he simply responds. Speaking as if it was a universal truth and the most obvious thing in the world, not a hint of doubt behind his conviction.

“Me?” Now you were confused by a mere two words. Pulling your hand back, your arms slid to prop themselves as you gave him an incredulous look. “Yeah, I’ll grant your wish if that’s what you’re saying. So spill the beans already.”

Xavier shakes his head, a faint laugh passing through his breath. “You’re my wish. Everything about you,” he starts, a gentle kiss pressing to your sternum once more.

“From the way you laugh at the videos you show me, and to the smile on your face after we complete a trial.” Another press of his lips moves down, a peppered trail soon making its way to your navel. “Even your sassy remarks during cards, passionate energy when we play the claw machine and sad moments alike when we leave empty-handed.”

One of his hands sneak up to squeeze your side, gingerly massaging the plush skin. His mouth lingers longer here, inhaling your warmth and nose nudging into your abdomen. “My wish is you, always has been. All you have to do is be yourself, and allow me the honor to stay by your side.”

You’re not sure what good deed you must have accomplished in your previous life, but you were more than grateful that it led you to this very moment. And the overwhelm of such an awareness had your eyes burning and sight blurred to sudden tears—great, you were crying. The atmosphere had quickly sobered into something more raw, subsiding the heat of the moment.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Xavier coos, eyes of love searching yours in realization.

That alone had your bottom lip trembling, furthering the waterworks at his kindness. Swiftly but gently did he lean forward to capture your tears between his puckered lips, kissing them away. A hand cradled your jaw with every little weep that paired your breaths. 

You reached for his face then, taking hold of his surprised cheeks before pressing those very lips to your own. It was a measly attempt of a kiss, one to quell your emotional heart and to reign in all your focus on your lover—but he returned it all the same, tender and careful pecks falling into the smile that melted into you entirely.

“You’re an idiot.” You sniffled, pulling away with a slight pout to defend your disposition. He could only chuckle at the poor name-calling.

“I thought I was your sulking, jealous dummy,” Xavier teases, lightly rubbing his nose against yours. “And you said that was your favorite kind. Now you take me as an idiot?”

“You can be both,” you reason, stroking the apples of his cheek in turn. Your eyes flick towards the metal resting on your finger, and you tap it against his face in thought. “Lucky for me, those versions of you are mine.”

“All versions of me belong to you. Every part of me is yours.” He raises his own ringed hand, cupping it against yours. “You’re the only star I could ever need in this vast universe.”

“That really makes us a pair of shooting stars then.”

A flash of astonishment spreads across his features before it’s soon blinked away, replaced with sentimental adoration and a relaxed expression. “You’re right,” he hums. 

He takes your hand and presses the ring to his lips—a new habit that he’ll have a hard time breaking, it seems—before trailing down your forearm and making his way to your shoulder. It left you feeling ticklish, and you squirmed as much by the time he made his way to your ear.

“Is something funny?” Xavier’s warm breath blew past the shell of your ear then, earning him a delightful squeal from you in turn. 

“Ack! Don’t do that, it tickles!” You attempted to widen the distance between your now closely pressed bodies, feeling embarrassed at the proximity. It was to no avail when you had one of the greatest Deepspace Hunters leaning over you, encapsulating your body beneath his with such practiced and natural ease. 

“Hm? What did I do?” He asked innocently, before knowingly blowing another puff of air and chuckling at the sight. “You’re so sensitive, and I’ve barely done a thing.”

The words were lodged in your throat when you felt something hotter welcome itself over your ear. Xavier’s tongue traced the curves of your helix down to your lobe in a circular pattern, leaving a lasting impression of his warmth behind. His teeth catch the end of your ear, a gentle yet foreboding nibble sinking in and pulled away with a tug.

It took all of your fighting spirit to put some air back into your lungs, and the look you gave him matched it. “Xavier, you know what you’re doing.” Though you didn’t particularly have it in you to disagree, a warm tingle sparks throughout your spine in enjoyment.

“Maybe?” He feigns an innocuous air, though the edge of his lips quirk briefly. “So about my wish,” he starts, calmly staking his claim with a brush of his hand over the curve of your rising chest. 

Not only was the sound of it prevalent, but the ardent thumping of your anticipating heart sparked an unexpected feeling within him. Relief, for one. You were alive, warm to the touch and resounding so beautifully. But also, a sense of unbridled attraction arose from the touch, his blood pumping in more places than one. A deep inhale followed the movement of his fingers, which danced themselves to the sweet spot just beneath your navel. 

“You remember what it is, don’t you?”

It felt like a trick question. Especially so, when you could feel the pads of his fingers smooth over the waistband of your underwear. Those very fingers that were centimeters larger than your own, a ghosting touch just barely skimming over the clothed mound of heaven’s gates—temptation in the palm of his hand.

“Me.” 

You managed the singular word with a faint breath, a sense of mind quickly blurring with the heat that overwhelmed you from the presence of his fingers. A tentative press, though gentle as ever, presented itself between your heat and elicited a shaky sigh from you. If he had just moved them a little closer, you could relieve yourself of this building tension. Yet, he made no motion to do so, fingers soon coming to a halt. The delicious thought ran away from you, and you had half the mind to curse him out right there.

“Correct.” Xavier’s voice lowered, a rasp you weren’t quite used to and even so, scratched all the right parts of your brain. A purr that settled into the crevices of your memory for days to come. “And what I want in this very moment is you. To touch, see and hear all that you have to offer.”

Contrary to his list of wants, he removes his hands from you entirely, leaving you to feign disappointment at the sudden loss. Moving to the edge of the bed, his thighs spread apart as he patted the space between them in invitation. You rose from your spot, a frown on your face earning you a chuckle in turn. The comforter padded your crawl towards the newfound seat. Xavier tugged you into his embrace, caged between firm leg muscles and biceps that circled around your waist.

Doubt was written across your face at his unspoken motives. “What’s this all about?” You huffed, less than pleased to be left strung on from just seconds ago.

Yet, Xavier only rested his chin on your shoulder, snuggling in comfortably and choosing not to meet your eye. The sweet gesture contrasted the heated words that brushed your ears in beckoning. “Look up, and tell me what you see.”

“I see…” You lift your gaze then, realizing exactly where you were. 

It led you to the mirror of your reflection just paces away, tidily pressed against the wall and encompassing your image in its entirety. Xavier’s frame had neatly shadowed yours, where his ringlets of blue were awaiting you expectantly in the glass. The melting sunset made your combined bodies glow, and your eyes instinctively trailed over the grasp that kept you in place. 

“Us,” you deduced. “You and me.”

“That’s right,” he nods, tufts of silver bouncing. His hands sneak themselves upwards, one each cupping your breast and giving a light squeeze. “Keep talking. What do you see now?”

“Now?” You echoed, a tinge of embarrassment to your voice and skimming the tips of your ears. “I can’t—Ah, ah.”

Xavier rolled your nipples in between his fingers swiftly, teasing and pulling the skin as your breasts spilled out of their brassiere. He kisses your shoulder as his massaging and tugging cycle themselves, gaze coolly pinned on you through the reflection. “You can. Use your words and tell me.”

“You’re teasing me,” you breathed, shrinking in on yourself with every press of his fingers. A fingertip pressed into your areola and you inhaled sharply, “Touching me… y’know, over there.”

“Where?” He questions, fingers splaying out to cup your breasts wholly and giving a firmer squeeze. 

“Is it here?” His chin rubs into your shoulder blade with the affection of a kitten seeking warmth. 

“Or maybe here?” Following were his knees kneading against the sides of your thighs, his chest pressing into your back to capture you entirely. A hunter who had his prey in the fine confines of his muscles. 

Xavier murmured. “This all counts as touching too. So, where exactly am I touching you then?”

“My… my…” You squirmed against him, back arching away when his thumb and forefinger returned to pinching a firm bud. 

Even as you moved, Xavier would follow, hands over your skin and attached without remorse. His eyes glimmered in merriment, shining clearly amidst the reflection of your tangled bodies. “Hm? Did you say something?”

“Chest, my chest, damn you.” You managed as much through gritted teeth, biting down a mewl to his indecent touches. Xavier smiles against your shoulder, rewarding you with a smooch of commiseration—ironic, when it was all part of his plan. 

You felt like you were finally catching a break as soon as his hands slid away from your sorely swollen breasts, a sigh of relief passing under your nose. Though, it was shortly lived with the dive of those very hands finding their way to the plush of your abdomen.

“And what about now?” He asks, dimpling his fingers into the flesh in the adjacency of a kitten pawing a blanket. It was a comforting touch, hands flattening across your stomach in a gentle massage.

“My stomach,” you answered, having quickly picked up on his tactful play. “Though, you seem to be nicer this time around.”

“I’m always nice.” Xavier shrugs his shoulders, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your skin. “And you’re beautiful. I can’t help but appreciate the gentle soul between my arms.”

He attempts to make various shapes with his fingers just above your navel before settling on a slightly crooked heart. Well, it was the thought that counted.

The hook of his cramped forefingers and equally contorted middles had you giggling at the sight, as sweet as the sentiment was. “We do this all the time at the photo studio, but look at your poor posture,” you teased, attempting to relax the tensed appendages.

He eases at your touch, allowing you to reshape his fingers in a more comfortable position. “Yeah. There’s only so much the photography poses book for beginners could do,” Xavier spoke earnestly, his chin finding rest atop the crown of your head. “But since you’re my partner, it’s been easier to handle the studio light at the very least.”

“Good, because we’re heading there later this week anyway. We’ll need new photos to commemorate today.” Your gaze trails over your hands atop of his, a downward peek over your skin and finding it reflected in the mirror’s orientation. It was a natural illustration of what it meant to feel at home, especially when he held you in an embrace that promised a shared tomorrow. Your heart felt warm in the blanket of his care.

You shift your head away to peer up at him, and he looks downwards to curiously see why his resting place had moved. You pressed a light kiss to the edge of his jaw then, a token of gratitude in reminder of what led you here in the first place.

Xavier lets out a pleased hum, though takes the opportunity to cup your chin. His thumb brushes against the brim of your lower lip, looking intently. Bringing your faces closer, mouth dipping to meet yours, he mumbles a remark. “You missed the most important spot.”

Another smack of his lips against you lingers longer than the one before it, your eyes fluttering to a close. Like clockwork, the prodding of his tongue against yours seeking allowance melted into a warm welcoming as you tilted into his embrace. It distracted you momentarily, perception dulled in the efforts of capturing your breaths—Xavier smoothed his hands over your thighs, and only then did their parting cause you to blink into realization.

Drawing back, you saw his gaze was no longer set on yours but straight ahead once more. “Xav…ier?” His name left your lips in a sense of familiar foreboding, a bubbling cauldron of heat settling into your senses. “That’s…!”

“I haven’t fully touched you here in a while and yet,” said the man in question, dipping a finger to push against your clothed folds. The fabric darkened over where you were practically weeping with need, and even as he drew back the appendage, a light string followed in suit. “You’re soaked, angel.”

“You can’t just say that,” you bemoaned, embarrassed at the honest nature. In an attempt to save yourself some face, your thighs instinctively pressed together to hide such an exposed state.

Though it was rendered useless when Xavier stopped you halfway, purposefully keeping your legs spread with a click of his tongue. One hand squeezed the plush of your inner thigh in tune, the other returning to skim over your underwear. The slightest drag of his fingernails and digging of cloth created a friction that had you squirming, a line between the need to flee for your pride and need to be satiated for the sake of achieving pleasure promptly blurring.

“Just observing,” he softly brings up in countenance. “Admiring, even. Is that a problem?”

“Well, I just—Ugh, please.” Your heart spoke before your mind could, practically mewling when the tips of his fingers curled just above your entrance—where you needed him the most. “You know why it’s like this…” You’re to blame, you thought, with the unspoken words hanging off your tongue.

Xavier sighs into the curve of your neck. “Maybe I do, or don’t. What do you want me to do about it?”

Your thighs twitch when he prods further, lightly pushing back and forth in reminder of what you could have. The orbiting sensation of his fingers had you fluttering around nothing, and your patience was wearing thin. Fine, fine. It was time to throw in all your dice and hope your numbers scored high. Throwing away your shield of pride for now, you ultimately settle to be honest with your desires.

Boldly, you press your hand over his and firmly slotted his fingers between your neatly soiled cunt. He lets out a soft gasp, stunned by your affirmation. Though Xavier doesn’t pull away, decidedly enveloping your heat wholly against the expanse of his palm.

“Make me feel good here.” Your eyes never left the reflection, enjoying the sight of his brow twitching at your demand. Concentrated entirely on your words, they deepened as you continued to lay out your thoughts. “Use these nice, skilled hands of yours and make me think of nothing but you.” 

The lowered gleam of his eyes twinkled when they found yours in the reflection. “Are you asking for a second wish?”

You nodded, coyly exaggerating your request. “You’re the only star I’m wishing on. Can’t you do this one thing for me?” Testing his resolve, it was as if you were questioning his steadfast promise.

With a sharp inhale, the thread of his patience snipped soon thereafter.

“I can do that, surely. But these are in the way,” he mumbles calmly. A familiar glow emits from his fingers, gentle specks floating around them. There was an even fainter woosh accompanied by the slightest gust of air. It fell past your ears before both disappeared with a blink of an eye.

You gasped in disbelief. “My underwear, Xavier!”

It was no more, a ruined scrap of fabric that had been neatly sliced into two. The sides of the waistband fell forward, leaving you exposed to the cooled bedroom air. “I liked that pair,” you sighed.

You didn’t really care for it truthfully, but an exaggerated pout to cover your surprise of his evol was your best front in the moment. No wonder why he never lets you touch his light blade, when the luminance emitted from his fingertips alone could already do so much—effortlessly, at that.

“I’ll get you a replacement later.” With a quick tug, the measly piece of cloth is pulled from beneath you and discarded to the floor. “As many as you want,” said Xavier, though distracted in thought. His fingers moving with a mind of their own to quell those thoughts. 

“It’s not like you’ll need them right now.”

His forefinger and middle parted your labia with ease, offering him a devious view of the very image he had longed to see. The glistening state of a cunt that had withstood his relentless and teasing touches, puffed and awaiting for something, anything to relieve your tension. The longer fingertip dips into your entrance first, light in effect though it echoes a slick noise in return. A second follows in suit, before Xavier slowly sunk the joints of both fingers into your heat. 

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, a soft moan of relief tickling his ears. He carefully retracts before pumping back in, setting a slow yet meaningful pace. 

“Look at how beautiful you are,” he croons, and a curl of his fingers emphasizes his words. His lips quirk into a small smile when he finds your hips rutting forward to chase his strokes. “So warm, so perfect and sucking me in so nicely.”

A mewl of his name parted your lips in response, ringing in a sweet melody that has him twitching against your backside. This would do for now, he tells himself as much—and remains firm when he stares at your blissed expression in the reflection. All because of him, riding his hand and giving you pleasure with every knowing press against your ridges. He could come alone at the sight and thought, but another passing of your whimpers has him leaning forward, bright idea in mind.

Xavier kisses the shell of your ear, voice dripping with a raw sense of need, desperation even. “Do you think you can take a third? For me?”

Pure bliss is all that runs through your mind, and you have half of it to manage a gaze towards the reflection. And what a mess you found yourself taking in—both your skin and his had begun to drink in the settling sunset, sparkling from a sheen of sweat beading his forearms and your thighs alike. The greatest shine of all could be found pooling between his fingers and your cunt, which mindfully played you along. 

You swallowed. “A…another one?”

Xavier hums, moving to pepper a kiss just beneath your earlobe. “If you can’t, just say so. Your comfort comes first.” 

You shake your head in immediate effect, stubbornly so. Who were you to back down from a challenge? 

“No, I… I can try. Give it to me.” You lift your hips by a centimeter or two, further parting your legs in offering. “I can take it. Please, Xavier.”

With the final words of permission, he gently pulls his two fingers back, before welcoming your entrance with the sensation of three tips. “Alright. Tell me when it’s too much.” 

His ring finger, just like the ones before it, slowly sank into your heat and gave into a newfound stretch that had the two of you gasping. It proved to be a tighter fit despite earlier coaxing. The stretch had you reeling, and he patiently held his excitement in place for your sake. 

Xavier paused once he was knuckle deep, and that’s when you felt it.

“Xavier—“

“Safe word?”

“N-no, but,” you gulp, feeling a different kind of flush sink into your skin. “Your… ring.” 

The cooled band found itself melting against your inner heat, just barely pressed against your walls but was nevertheless a welcoming presence. You could feel his breath freeze above you, the dominoes quickly falling in succession. “It’ll get dirty if you—!”

“Ah, that’s what you’re worried about?” Xavier snickers, before angling his wrist to slide out and push back in, reaching his fingers as far as they could go. “It should be the least of your concerns right now.” 

“Give me some time,” you draw out, experimentally pushing your hips forward and hissing at the shift. “Your hands are big, y’know…”

At your own pace, you gently grind into his palm to grow accustomed to the sensation. Hands on his knees to balance, Xavier’s eyes raked over the arch of your back, mesmerized. His free hand rested into the dip of your love handles, following your movements in quiet encouragement.

You called for his name when you felt a familiar brink creep towards the edge of your consciousness, slowing your hips then. Xavier followed, chin shifting to rest on your shoulder. “No more?”

“I’m ready now.” You spoke in a sense of confidence, supporting your words with a slight raise of your hips. Leaning back into him, you fall back down and respire a sound of pleasure, more comfortable compared to before.

The peaks of his knuckles fully brush against your clit when you touch base, a cherry on top of the indecent sundae. A switch had flickered inside his mind, thoughts pouring out through the parting of his fingers from within. He groans, burning the feeling of your warm walls that welcomed his ministrations to memory.

“I want you to remember that this very ring,” he emphasizes with a particularly firm smack of his palm. “Makes you mine. As much as I am yours.”

A small cry rips from your throat, pushing yourself against him from the sudden change in pace and newfound sensitivity. His fingers begin to pump with improved ease, aided by the dripping arousal coating his busied hand. His palm became wet with every crude contact to your overwhelmed heat, a faint string of arousal attaching itself to his skin.

“Look at yourself, how much you want this. Do you feel it? The way this band presses into your pretty cunt, drenched in your honey.” Obscenely loud squelches echoed his words, proving his point in rapid effect. A knowing chuckle rings amongst the noises. “Hear that sound? You’re so wet. Amazing how concerned you were, but I bet you’re actually enjoying this. Dirtying my ring, our ring like this.”

“Please don’t—ah—say it like that, it’s embarrassing,” you whined, though not outwardly denying his claims. “Not true, I promise—mmh!”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Xavier circles inwards, applying a particular pleasure that had you bucking in weakness—he cooed at the sight. “You say that as if I’m wrong. Denying the truth before us.”

A string of incoherence swirled into the sounds you created, overwhelmed by the vivid heat coursing through your body. Your eyes were fluttering to a close, but soon snapped open at the feeling of his sneaking hand grasping your jaw.

A sharp whisper of his tone nicks at your ear, redirecting your face to focus on the glass ahead. “Don’t look away. I want you to watch just how you come undone for me. On my fingers, with the very ring that binds me to you.”

It was a fight to keep your gaze steady, to witness how he held the entirety of the world in his hand with every knowing, calculated stroke. There were  faint glints of the silver band winking back at you during the few off-seconds his fingers weren’t buried deep into your weeping cunt.

“That’s my girl, you can do it.” He offers encouragement, skimming his teeth in a downwards trail, hotly breathing against your neck. The hold on your jaw loosens, sliding over the valley of your breast and dipping towards your clit. Pressed together, he begins to circle patterns of infinity, matching the pace of his remaining digits dutifully plugging you whole. 

He exhales in admiration, feeling his heart swell with a sense of pride when you tighten around him. “You want to come, don’t you?” 

Xavier searches for your pulse point, lips drawn in an effort to leave behind a stubborn mark. A quiet command echoes the ardent stimulation, tilting you to the edge. “Go on, let it all out. Make my wish come true, come, come, come.”

No sooner did a searing flash of heat strike you, seamlessly and pleasurably tearing you into two. Waves of long-awaited release ebbed through your walls and out into the maestro of his fingers that orchestrated them. Your hands found the closest thing to cling onto for purchase, fingernails digging into the tensed muscles of his thighs. 

Everything was hot, intensely warm from your body  and a testament to his efforts. His name became nothing but a broken chant, spilling from your lips relentlessly just as your arousal leaked into the sheets below. 

An act of kindness came with the eventual slowing of his fingers, soon leaving your trembling cunt. The parting broke with a slicked pop, and the successive emptiness drew a disappointed whine from you. 

Xavier finds it amusing, softly nudging your temple with his nose to pair his sympathy. “Are you doing okay? That was a lot, but you did well.”

You nodded for reassurance, lulling your head to meet his shoulder and limbs relaxing in recovery. 

He held out his hands for the two of you to see just how well you did, a fine layer of your fluids coating him from tip to knuckle, spread across the palm alike. Thoroughly drenched and sticky by design, they web between his fingers as he stretches them out.

“I didn’t know what to expect,” you spoke up in sheepish admission, then glanced at the outcome. You reach for the soiled hand, curling a hold around his wrist as you bring it closer to your lips. “But it was hot. I enjoyed it.”

Confusion colors his expression. “What are you doing?”

Slyly, your tongue peaked out and traced a path along the crevices of his palm. Stray droplets of your arousal were caught on your tastebuds, and it was exhilarating. Making your way to the tips of his fingers, your mouth welcomed their slicked length in whole. Lips pursed and carefully taking them as far as you could, you began to greedily tongue him clean. You bobbed forward to capture the base of his knuckles, then upwards to the edge of his nails in a repeated motion.

Xavier tensed above you, eyes sharp and narrowed to the deliberate suckling of your warm mouth. He made no sudden effort to pull away, entranced by your devious performance. A hum of approval would echo your throaty sounds on occasion, before he decidedly removed his saliva-ridden fingers and parted with a fine string.

“Generously cleaning the mess you made,” he observes. Sincerity softens his tone and the smile he graces you with shortly after. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You return the gratitude in mild jest. You watch as he dries his hand off to the side, eyes soon trailing to the evidently darkened ripples of fabric just underneath your bottom. With a scrunched nose in apology, you could only hide part of your grimace. “Speaking of messes, sorry for your sheets. I’ll run the washer later to make up for it.”

He barely spares it a glance, finding the soiled padding to be of lesser interest. A kiss reaches your shoulder instead. “We can do laundry together later, there’s no rush.” 

His mindset furthers when his hands massage careful circles into your thighs, taking his time in soothing your skin. Falling into place, serenity begins to filter through the air. The bands of stars sparkled under the newly unsheathed moonlight, welcoming the cosmos your hands held together.

“Say, Xavier?”

“Hm.”

Delicately, you push his hands away and slowly come to a rise, power replenishing itself after a moment’s rest. Xavier could only hold his breath, eyes raking over a tantalizing backside view as you stood. You were bathed in a faint sea of starlight, a glowing visage he adored greatly. 

He released an exhale when you turned to face him, lips upturned in a knowing display. A blink later he found himself against the bed, back in full contact with the comforters.

“What’s the matter—Mmh.” He stifles his surprise with the back of his hand, blush creeping over the tips of his ears in succession. 

You take the opportunity to swing your body over his, and he swallows. Your knees sink into the bedding, paired at his sides and hips hovering over his. A stray hand quietly runs a line from the heart of his chest down to his navel, pausing just above his waistband. 

“I have another wish, if you’ll indulge me.”

He lowers his cover, on the cusp of intrigue and anticipation. “And that is?”

Xavier’s head dips back into the bedding further with an airy moan at your answer. Gingerly, your hand felt for his aching and abandoned cock, hot to the touch even through the cottons of his boxers. You leaned back to enjoy the view of pulling out his hardened state, his hips raised to discard the very fabric. Exposed to the cooler air, you could clearly make out the beads of arousal pulsing past his slit.

Finally freed from their confines and heavy between your fingers, Xavier twitched in unadulterated relief. A small laugh, one of recognition and affinity, escaped you. “I knew it. You were hard this entire time.”

He breathes out in defense. “Could you—mmh—blame me?” 

“I can’t,” you replied in truth. 

You honestly couldn’t, when you saw for yourself just how much of a mess he made of you only an instant ago. The flashing image of your reflection and his masterful play sprint past your mind, relayed through a squeeze of his length. You dragged your hold to the tip of his burning affection, then back down to the base. His brows knitted at your leisurely strokes, fingers curling into the sheets. 

“But what does that mean then?” You teased, pressing questions you knew the answers to with another flick of your wrist. “Did watching me get off having you that riled up, hm?”

“Course it did.” Xavier answers immediately, tossing aside his front and presenting himself in honesty. “I meant it when I said you were beautif—uck, fuck.” His train of thought falls short into a curse, huffing out pleasantries at your touch. “Yeah, just like that. You’re so good, so good to me.”

His hips buck with your other hand palming his sensitive head, especially so when the curves of your ring skim the skin with every downward press. He squeezed his eyes shut, labored pants combatting the meek groans of your name. It was a sight for sore eyes and a euphony for your ears—to see his hair messily fall apart with every toss, rising chest that pushed out such sweet mumbles and abdomen constricting the closer he was brought to the edge.

“I’m—“

“Close,” you finish his sentence, and he only nods in affirmation. 

Perfect.

A part of you felt guilty for releasing your hold on him then, and the way his eyes snapped open at the denial. But it wouldn’t be for naught—far from it. 

He opens his mouth to protest before it quickly falls to a close, biting down on his lip as your hips rise. The curve of his stickied head kissed the warm entrance of your cunt, soon buried deep within the instance you sank down. Even as you coaxed yourself into taking him in stride, it didn’t beget the stretch of his girth filling you whole.

“What a sly vixen you are,” he lowly murmurs, though not in protest but rather of astute respect. 

Xavier relocates his grip from the sheets to the curve of your sides, steadying your place over him with every purposeful grind you pushed forward. “Riding me like this, I’m really close this time. I can’t hold back when you feel so good around me.”

“Then don’t hold back for me.” You knew that well enough from the beginning, hands sliding past his abdomen and giving his shoulders an affirming squeeze. Leaning down to press your chest against him, your lips hover above his pillowy ones and smile. 

“Give me everything you have, that’s my second wish.”

Pools of a lustful blue widened at your greenlit request. The speed of light was slow in comparison to the realization that quickly dawned onto Xavier—the glide of his hands dipping to firmly hold your ass were more than enough of a signal. Virtues of patience thrown out the window, his hips snap upwards in fervent need, setting an unruly pace and reaching depths you hadn’t thought possible. Desperate, wet smacks of his skin into yours loudly filled the room and accompanied your equally crude moans.

He captured those very sounds into his mouth, sharing his own before his hips stuttered and bliss overwhelmed his senses. Streams of hot release clung to your walls, readily accepting every thick drop of his undoing. He takes your face into his hands then, taking the care to properly kiss you through the cock that continues to spill his spend.  

By the time he pulled away, your lips were swollen with the affection of his love, breathless all the same. Even if he had just come like his life depended on it, the gaze of pure adoration that bored into you showed no sign of such a thing.

With what little strength you mustered, you lean back and allow his softening length to escape you. A fine trail of viscous white followed in suit, pearling along your folds and dripping onto him. 

“Another wish comes true,” you remark. Pleased nonetheless, your body reacts in agreement as another string of combined release slowly pushes past your entrance. “Combined with your luck, you could make a killer living off of this.”

It earns you a light chuckle in return, amusement wrinkling his eyes. “As long as you’re my only and willing client, then I’m open for business. Just you, though.”

You wiggle your brows in an unserious manner at the prospect. “Do I get a discount?”

“Yeah. The exclusive lover one,” he retorts, though it's a committed promise despite the friendly sarcasm. “Anyway, our desires are well aligned. It makes fulfilling them light work.” 

He takes you back into his hold, chest to chest and heart beating to one another. Xavier tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I love you. My north star, I’ll always do my best to have your wishes granted.”

Whatever playful comment you had prepared melts quickly at his admission, honeying into fondness for your lover. “And I love you,” you sweetly sing back to him. “My shining trace of light.”

You stretch a hand to cup his face, to which he was quick to nudge against in reciprocation. The glimmer in his eyes faintly resembled the focal jewel inlaid within your ring, bright and wholeheartedly yours. Whispers of the stars blinked at you, relaying their oath as you admired Xavier in his entirety, and he to you.

“Let me guess. This time, your cipher is…” You paused, pondering at the possibilities and flipping through your mental notes. The conclusion came to a stalemate the longer you dwelled on it, and a sigh resulted in its place. “Actually, maybe I don’t know. Mind telling me what it means?”

“Sure.” A brisk warmth touches your lower lip, leaving behind a kiss too short for time to hold. “The message was… ‘Would you like to see the stars with me?’ The night is still young.”

You raised a brow at the proposal. “I’m already looking at one, though. And he’s really pretty, looks a whole lot better than the ones in the night sky.”

Xavier shakes his head, though a bashful flush at the compliment digs into his skin. “A simple yes or no would do.”

“Then, yes. The patio would be a nice view.” You make an effort to get up, but his arms around you give no room for freedom. You glance at him, wondering what was the literal hold up. “What is it? I thought you wanted to see the stars, so we should clean up and—Ah. You!“

Gravity was lost to you and the next moment, a familiar view of his shadowing frame shields you once more. The pads of his hands slide down your sides in greeting, torso making its slow descent down your body. He tilts his head, mirth coloring an expression that homed itself in front of your parted thighs.

“I do,” Xavier confirms. “But right now, I’ll have you seeing stars. Starting from right here.”

[inkmonster21]

Hahaha jealous Caesar when he spots you talking to an ape or human and he just scares them away with his imitating look making reader confused on why the human man isnt talking to her and then she sees Caesar do it. Making her tease him for being jealous.

I hope you're doing okay and that you remember to drink lots of water and refresh when needed, so you're not pushing yourself.

Jealous Ape

Caesar x Reader

A/N: thanks so much! I am feeling so much better today! Finally finished my antibiotics and I’m feeling like myself again! ❤️

~o0o~

Caesar observes you from afar, his gaze always watchful and observant. He sees the way you greet everyone with a kind smile, the warmth, and friendliness that radiates from you. There's something about you that intrigues him, that draws his attention and keeps his gaze on you. As you move through the colony, you can feel his eyes following you, studying you from a distance.

As you take a seat next to the female apes, the young chimps hoot in excitement, their eagerness to be groomed and fussed over by you evident. You offer them a warm smile and a friendly greeting, "Morning." The female apes greet you in return, the familiarity and comfort between you all evident. The young chimps chatter and clamber towards you, eager for your attention and grooming.

Caesar observed the scene before him, watching silently as the young chimps clambered and chattered around you. There was something about the way you interacted with them, the gentleness and care in your touch, that stirred something within him. He found himself growing fond of you, the way you engaged and played with the young ones, the way you handled them with patience and affection.

As Caesar watches you, he can't help but admire the way you seamlessly integrate yourself into the flock. Despite being a human, you had quickly become an accepted and respected member of their community. Caesar sees the way the other apes look at you, the way you handle yourself with confidence and dignity, and he cannot help but feel a sense of grudging respect for you.

You and your group had come to the apes months ago, offering a barter. Goods and materials for protection and access to the land that the apes lived on. But as part of the agreement, you had also offered something else - yourself. You had agreed to stay in the colony, to live among the apes, as a way to ensure that the humans would never turn on them again. Over time, you had become a permanent fixture in the colony, and the apes had come to accept and respect you as one of their own.

You had earned your place among the apes, slowly gaining their trust and earning their respect. Your calm and respectful demeanor had helped you integrate into their community, and you had come to feel like you belonged there. You had learned their customs, their language, and their way of life, and they had accepted you as one of their own. In many ways, you had become an unlikely ambassador between the worlds of humans and apes, straddling both worlds and finding a place for yourself in the middle.

Over time, Caesar began to spend more and more of his free time with you. At first, it was just occasional conversations or exchanges of pleasantries, but gradually, he began to seek you out more frequently. You found yourself enjoying these moments, the time spent in his company, and the conversations that flowed easily between the two of you. As the days passed, you grew more comfortable with one another, a strange and unexpected friendship developing.

Despite the growing bond between you and Caesar, you knew that pursuing a romantic relationship with him was not possible. The differences in your species made it impossible, even if you had felt differently. So you chose to remain silent on your feelings, keeping your heart locked away and hidden, despite the longing and affection you felt for the ape king.

You knew that Caesar could never feel the same way you do. The gulf between human and ape was too vast, and the idea of him returning your affection was simply wishful thinking. So you resigned yourself to silently pining after him, knowing that your love would forever remain one-sided and unfulfilled.

Caesar would occasionally leave small gifts at your door or give them to you during meals, simple gestures that showed he was thinking of you. You never failed to gush over the gifts, and he couldn’t help but smile as he watched your reactions. He was pleased to know that you appreciated his thoughtfulness, even if it was more out of friendship than anything else.

Caesar had spent several days gathering shells and twine, working carefully to braid them together into a necklace for you. The necklace was beautiful and delicate, the shells a beautiful array of colors and shapes, woven together elegantly with the twine. Despite the simplicity of the materials, Caesar was pleased with his work, knowing that you would love it.

As you pick through your food, you notice Caesar approaching. You look up and smile, greeting him with a simple "Hi, Caesar." Your eyes linger on him for a moment longer than necessary, taking in his stature.

Caesar was always vigilant, always on guard, but around you, he found himself able to let his body relax. He trusted you, deeply. Over time, he had grown to care for you, his feelings developing from mere trust into something more intimate.

Caesar moves closer to you, sitting down beside you with a gentle rustle of leaves. He holds out a small, crudely wrapped bundle, the gift he had promised to you. His voice is soft and a little hesitant as he speaks, "I brought you...a gift."

You smile as you extend your hand, ready to receive the gift. Caesar gently places it in your hand, and as he does, your soft skin brushes against his calloused fingertips, a brief but charged moment of contact.

As you both smile at each other and gaze into each other's eyes, there is a moment of connection, a spark of something more than friendship. The air between you seems to crackle with tension, the silence speaks volumes.

As you look down into your hands, you can't help but gasp at the sight of the necklace in your hands. It is beautiful, the shells a riot of colors and shapes, the twine woven together elegantly. It's obvious that Caesar had spent time and care crafting the necklace, and you can't help but be touched by his thoughtfulness.

"Caesar," you hum as you look at the necklace, admiring it with reverence. You could feel your heart swelling in your chest, touched by the thoughtfulness and care he had put into crafting this necklace, just for you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke deeply of his feelings for you.

"It's so beautiful," you say, the words a whisper as you admire the necklace. The shells glimmer in the light, their colors and patterns creating a mesmerizing display. The twine is expertly woven, its thinness almost invisible as it holds the shells together. You touch the necklace reverently, tracing a shell with a fingertip.

"Thank you." The words come out as a soft murmur, filled with gratitude and warmth. Your heart is full of feelings you can't fully express, and there's an urge to reach out and embrace him. But you hold back, uncertain about crossing a line. You don't want to ruin this moment or risk losing the friendship you had so carefully built together. So instead, you simply look up at him, meeting his gaze with a look filled with emotion.

Caesar could sense your desire to embrace him but could also see the hesitation in your eyes. He understood the conflicted feelings that were churning within you. The line between friendship and something more was a delicate one, and he didn't want to force you to cross it if you weren't ready.

Caesar's voice is gentle and soft as he urges, "Put it on." His fingers wrap around the necklace, and he moves your hair gently to the side, revealing your bare shoulders. The movement of his hand is tender, his touch gentle as he positions the necklace against your skin.

You can feel your breath catch in your throat as Caesar's fingers brush against your skin. The touch is like a spark against a dry tinder, setting a fire within you. His hand is warm and strong, and the sensation of his fingertips against your skin sends your heart hammering in your chest.

The shells of the necklace rest gently against your chest, their smooth surfaces rising and falling with each breath you take. The feel of the necklace is almost intimate, the shells cool against your skin, a constant reminder of Caesar's thoughtfulness and care.

You found yourself grappling with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Was this necklace simply meant as a gesture of peace, a way to strengthen the bond between apes and humans? Or was it something more, a display of affection or care from Caesar to you? The line between friendship and something deeper was becoming increasingly blurry, and you couldn't quite make heads or tails of Caesar's behavior.

You look back at Caesar, the sight of his fond smile bringing a flicker of uncertainty to your heart. His expression is soft and affectionate, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. It's a sight that both warms and confuses you, leaving you questioning the true nature of his feelings.

This wasn't the first time you had gone to bed feeling confused about your feelings for Caesar, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. The tumultuous emotions swirling inside you, the uncertainty and longing, kept you awake at night. The necklace he had given you remained on your bedside table, a constant reminder of your complicated relationship with the ape king.

The sun had barely risen when your group finally emerged from the woods, looking tired but satisfied. You quickly stood up from your perch on a log and hurried over to them, your heart filled with relief and happiness to see them all unharmed and safe. Without hesitation, you embraced your friends, wrapping your arms around them in a tight hug of greeting and affection.

You were eager to hear all about their journey, wanting to know what they had seen and experienced in the days they had been gone. "So," you say as you pull away from the hugs, "tell me everything. What happened on your journey?"

James, the former military officer who sat next to you, began to weave an embellished version of the story, describing their adventures with exaggerated bravado and humor. You found yourself giggling at several points, easily able to recognize the embellishments but finding them amusing nonetheless.

As James continued his story, you couldn't help but feel eyes on you. The sensation of being watched from a distance was unmistakable, and you glanced around, trying to identify the source of the gaze.

You turn around, trying to see who might be watching, but everyone else in the colony seems occupied with their own business. You absently toy with the necklace at your throat as you listen to James's story, your fingers tracing the smooth shells, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling.

You can't help but laugh at a particularly amusing moment in James's story, your eyes sparkling with mirth. Even as you chuckle, however, you still can't shake the feeling of being watched.

James, just as he was telling the next part of the story, turns towards you, a question on his lips. He looks at you for a moment with curiosity, as though he wants to ask something. Your anticipation for James's question is interrupted as he suddenly looks past you, his gaze drifting away. You turn to follow his gaze, your eyes falling on Caesar, who is standing nearby, watching the two of you intently.

Even without looking, you can sense the intense gaze of the ape king, and you turn to see Caesar's expression, his eyes narrowing at James. The look on Caesar's face is one of possessiveness and anger, and it becomes even more apparent as James leans slightly closer to you.

The sight of James being so close to you bothered Caesar, the possessive gleam in his eyes growing more intense. Caesar's body seemed to tense slightly, and his eyes flicked between you and James, his jaw clenching slightly.



James, perhaps feeling the intensity of Caesar's glare, leans back, creating some distance between the two of you. He looks slightly uncomfortable, and there's a subtle flicker of fear in his eyes as he glances at Caesar.

For the rest of the night, it was as if Caesar was constantly watching you. His eyes tracked your every movement, and any time a male human approached you, his glare would harden, warning them silently to keep their distance. It was a territorial display, a silent declaration of ownership.

You felt your limbs growing weary and your mind weary, ready for respite. "I'm going to head to bed," you finally say, getting up slowly from the log.

James stands up as well, his expression casual. "I'll walk you," he offers. "My tent's close by, so I'm headed there anyway."

You nod in agreement, and together with James, you begin walking towards your abode. The path is dimly lit by the flickering of distant fires, casting dancing shadows on the trees. The night air is cool and quiet, the sounds of crickets and nocturnal creatures filling the air.

You and James continue down the path, and soon you arrive at your house. Its simple structure is made of sturdy branches and leaves, and it blends well with the surroundings.

"Here's my stop," you say, gesturing to your house. "Would you like to come in for a moment?"

As you invite James inside, he looks like he's about to accept, but the sudden change in his demeanor is unmistakable. His gaze turns fearful, and he gulps, shaking his head. "No," he stammers, "I'll just... see you tomorrow."

With a swift sidestep, he walks off, his steps quickening as he leaves. You're left standing there, bewildered by the sudden shift in his behavior.

As you turn around, you find Caesar. He stands, glaring at James's departing figure, his eyes fixated on the human male as he scurries away. You cross your arms and look at Caesar, a mix of curiosity and slight irritation in your expression.

"What are you doing?", your tone is a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. Caesar's attention snaps back to you, his intense gaze meeting yours. There's a moment of silence as he regards you with an almost guarded expression.

"I was making sure you were safe," Caesar finally replies, his voice slightly gruff. As you look back at James's retreating figure, a small smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Pretty sure I can take him," you remark, your tone light and almost challenging.

Caesar huffs in response, a sound that seems both amused and jealous at once. He regards you with a mixture of admiration and protectiveness, his gaze holding a hint of possessiveness.

Caesar's eyes linger on James for a moment longer before he looks back at you, his gaze focused and intense. His question, "Do you... care for him?" hangs in the air between you, the weight of his concern tangible.

Your eyes widen with surprise as the nature of Caesar's question hits you, and you exclaim, "James?"

You study Caesar's expression, trying to discern the true meaning behind his words. Is he worried that you have feelings for James? The thought is both shocking and confusing.

Caesar's gaze remains fixated on you, his expression a mix of concern and vulnerability. He's waiting for your answer, his body tense as if anticipating your response. There's a sense of anxiousness about him, a fear of what your answer might be.

Your curiosity piqued, you press further, asking, "Why?"

Caesar's gaze intensifies as he processes your question. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I just want to know," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of defensiveness.

As you shake your head and quietly admit that you care for someone else, your gaze averts away from Caesar. A mixture of emotions flits across your face - trepidation, vulnerability, and a hint of uncertainty. You swallow hard, the truth laid bare in your admission.

Caesar's expression softens slightly as he absorbs your words. The knowledge that you care for someone other than James seems to lift a weight from his shoulders, and his gaze warms a bit. However, there's a slight flicker of disappointment and longing in his eyes. He nods slowly, a quiet acceptance in his gesture. "Who?" he asks softly.

Your hand instinctively grips your necklace, your fingers tracing the smooth shells as a soft smile graces your lips. It's a subtle, unconscious gesture that speaks volumes about whom you care for.

As Caesar takes in the sight of your hand on the necklace he gifted you, his expression softens even further, understanding flickering across his face.

Caesar's tone is tinged with a mixture of disbelief and uncertainty as he points to himself. "Me?" The word hangs in the air between you like a question mark, his eyes searching your face for confirmation. Despite his doubts, there's a spark of hope in his gaze, a glimmer of belief.

You release a nervous breath, a mix of vulnerability and resignation coloring your words. "Don't act so disappointed," you say, your voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I know it wouldn't... work out."

Caesar watches you, his expression shifting to one of realization and acceptance. He knows the truth, the reality of the situation, and yet... there's a part of him that yearns for it to be different.

Caesar steps closer, his movements deliberate and filled with a newfound determination. "No," he says firmly, his voice laced with conviction. "I am not disappointed... at all."

The distance between you shrinks with each step he takes, and his eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of hope and longing.

Caesar’s smile grows as he steps closer, his body now inches away from yours. "I am… glad," he says, his voice soft and sincere.

The proximity between you feels charged, the air thick with anticipation. Caesar gazes at you, his gaze affectionate and filled with tenderness.

Caesar's hand comes to rest gently on your cheek, his touch warm and tender. He then slowly, almost reverently, leans his head forward to bring his forehead against yours. The press of his skin against yours is intimate and affectionate, an unspoken gesture of affection and care.

As you stand with Caesar, forehead to forehead, the world around you fades away. There are no colony members, no humans, and no dangers to worry about. At this moment, it's just the two of you.

Your heart beats in time with his, and in this quiet, intimate moment, a silent declaration is made. You are his, and he is yours. The bond between you feels palpable, like a tether that can never be broken.

[syoddeye]

i don't know what this is. lightly edited. price x reader. ~600 words.

cw: dubcon, violence, blood, a little gore, stalking, abrupt non-ending

freshly promoted lieutenant john price is fairly drunk when he spots a woman backed into a wall, staring wide-eyed up at some nitwit. she's clearly frightened, chest heaving, shoulders pulled up toward her ears.

swaying in the mouth of the alley, he thinks he's caught a lover's quarrel. thinks otherwise when the man pinches her chin, and she rips it out of his grasp to meet john's gaze in the dark.

it's instinct. it's duty.

he rolls his bad shoulder as he barrels down the alleyway, face fixing into a glower that's cowed even his rowdiest subordinates. the scrap's short, most are, but he cuts his knuckles on the man's teeth. he sends him stumbling, tail tucked into the night. his hand stings, but a quiet gasp draws his bleary-eyed stare back to the woman on the wall. yet instead of a thank you, she takes three of his fingers into her mouth.

he nearly keels over. he's never sobered up quicker in his life. goes light-headed.

she licks the thin ribbons of blood streaming from the wound, and her eyes roll to the back of her skull. her tongue darts to the webbing of his hand, then laves over the torn flesh. her grip on the front of his jacket tightens, arms slightly trembling as she licks and licks and licks.

it's obscene. disgusting. he ought to push her away. she's a stranger. it's blood. yet he finds himself, a trained killing machine, helpless. stuck watching, rapt, until his skin's clean and soaked in pink-colored spit.

she wipes her mouth with her thumb, then sucks that into her mouth, too. her eyes find him with an almost shy smile, lips curving around the digit.

thanks, handsome, she purrs. what's your name?

he doesn't stick around to share it, and never tells a soul.

he was drunk. it must've been a dream. a nightmare.

-

it's puerile fascination. a fleeting crush. you deny it until you find yourself stalking him in the streets. loitering outside his residence. staring hard at the walls that separate you. oh, how easy it would be to dig through the rock and burrow inside him.

you learn his name.

john price.

he occupies your waking. slips into the quiet spaces between thoughts. settles in your mind and kicks up his feet. he makes a little home for himself there, whether he knows it or not. after your first and only tête-à-tête, it's clear he's not ready to make it into reality. he needs more time and to see more of the world.

you follow him in town, and when he goes to the city. you're tempted to follow even when he leaves, but your considerable territory needs minding, and your attention is already stretched thin. so you spend his absences fretting like any other wartime wife would.

mrs. price.

years pass in a blink. you wait. both of you take lovers, but your loyalty never strays.

he climbs the ranks. matures. hardens into his own formidable creature. your mouth still waters when he returns home bandaged and bloodied. of the innumerable people you've sampled, his is the only taste you remember.

on that noisy night in piccadilly, you finally get the chance to look after him like he did you. you haven't felt so alive since you, well, were, gorging on the men who pursue and try to kill him. you drag them kicking and screaming into the wreckage, tunneling into chests and snapping necks. you pull the pins on their grenades to cover your tracks.

drenched in blood, drunk with it, you watch him disappear into a ruined building with a younger man. you tag along, sticking to the shadows, ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

husband. mate.

the young man cannot break the lock. the bomb will detonate. over the beeping, the sobs, and the unfortunate's desperate screams—you listen for his heartbeat. it's all you care about. you prepare to launch across the destroyed shop, to crush him to your chest and flee, but then he moves.

he heaves the poor bastard over a railing, and you fall further in love.