#the mouse probably did dig it

[sweets3rial]

Blinded !

Kinktober Oct 9 !

re4!leon x mercenary!reader

summary: he can't see. all he can do is feel; feel her curves, the warmth of her skin, and her shuddering breaths against the shell of his ear

tags: TW!!: dubcon and mild non-con themes, enemies/lovers trope, bondage, blindfold, sub to dom leon, mentions of past relationship/memories, slight knifeplay, mentions of cuts and blood, re4 setting, yearning, doomed love, teasing, smut, the tiniest bit of fluff, rough sex, oral (f! receiving), vaginal fingering, p in v, pussy slapping, cowgirl, creampie, etc.

word count: 5.2k

be sure to check out my kinktober masterlist to see what's coming up in the future ;D!

the reverberating sound of heels clacking surrounded him. slowly and slowly getting closer. his jaw clenched, and his nails were digging into his palm. he was denying his anxiety, his fear, there was no doubt that a woman was walking towards him but he was in a vulnerable state.

he couldn’t see her. a black cloth was placed around his eyes, and he could only see a faint image of her silhouette, but she was just a blur due to the room’s low light.

he struggled against his restraints with a low grunt. handcuffs, no doubt, ones way too tight for his wrists. the metal dug into his skin, making him feel even more restrained. the footsteps stopped before him, and the sudden realization felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders…he recognized that perfume.

you must’ve noticed his realization, and a small scoff left your lips.

“never thought I’d catch the Leon Kennedy like this,” you mocked, placing a hand on your hip as you stared down at him. a sense of pride swelled in your chest. finally, you are the one looking down on him and not the other way around.

“and i never thought we’d meet again, at least not like this,” a small grin appeared at the corner of his lips. he was trying to cover up the millions of thoughts running through his head. why now? why do you appear now of all times? where have you been? why hasn’t he heard from you in months?

a small, bemused scoff left your lips. you stepped forward, dragging your heel behind her. you leaned forward, placing your hands on his shoulders, which caused him to jump. you’re in control; he no longer has this hold over you like he has all these years. you’re triumphant. you win.

years of playing cat and mouse have always ended up one way or another: in bed or with painful scars — both physically and emotionally.

“did you miss me?” you whispered, loud enough so he could hear you but low enough to where no one else could. shivers ran down his spine, and he adjusted his posture, leaning forward so he was beside the shell of your ear. you were warm, and the smell radiating from the sweet spot on your neck was dragging him in, pulling him closer and closer to you without any restraint.

he was helpless, tied up, and blindfolded, but also because you were his weakness. he hated to admit it, but it was true. days and nights he’s spent contemplating leaving his job and giving up on his job to pursue a life with her.

but he knew it could never happen, and it probably won’t ever happen. at the end of the day, passionate nights mean nothing. when the morning comes around, you both have to face the daunting reality. you have duties. duties that drive them against each other more often than you are brought together.

“quit the act and tell me what you want,” he bellowed.

to her, this was no act. did you miss me, Leon? do you feel the same way i do? do you feel the anger? the guilt for being angry and the confusion?

you pursed your lips together, peeling away from him slowly and letting your fingertips drag down his shoulders. you stepped back.

“you know what i want, Leon,” your steps began to circle him. “give me the amber, and both of us can walk away peacefully,”

the sound of a knife being slid from its sheath slowly made its way to his ears. he turned his head, following you as you stepped behind him.

“you know i can’t do that,”

you stopped. directly behind him. then, the feeling of a cold blade was pressed to his neck. his body tensed up as he tried to lean away from the edge of the blade.

that’s when he felt your lips brush up against the shell of his ear, “i don’t want to hurt you,”

further, the knife dug into his skin. he clenched his teeth, keeping a small wince hidden. it stung, but it stung even more because it was her.

“too late for that, isn’t it?” he snapped, and he could feel your tense up as a response.

and it was just the response he wanted. he wanted you to feel that guilt, he wanted you to know how you make him feel.

the nights you’ve left him in a cold bed, alone and vulnerable. the promises you’ve broken. the meaningless words and the endless lies.

you stood up straight, and the knife left his neck, slicing his skin even deeper. a small, surprised wince left his lips as you stepped back.

your fingers found the back of his neck, your nails slowly creeping up into his hair. he fell weak. the feeling was so familiar to him, your fingers tugging at his blonde strands and your nails scratching at his scalp.

he was pathetic. his eyes fluttering shut and chills running through him. a low hum escaped his lips, his head tilting to the side as he both tried to shake you off and lean into you more.

that was the problem. you knew everything. not only his job, where he lived, his name, and life but also just what could make him fold. small and gentle kisses, soft scratches at his scalp, whispers in his ears, and your smile. your damn smile.

if he wasn’t blindfolded, he would probably be in a much worse state than he is now.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you sighed, almost disappointed. your fingers traveled back down his neck, hooking the collar of his navy blue t-shirt.

“what do you want me to say?” you waltzed back around him, now standing in front of him. with a heavy sigh, you dropped into a squat, crossing your arms over his lap and leaning your cheek against his thigh.

he was growing hot. god, he could only imagine the look on your face. those fake pouty lips and those sly eyes looking up at him with a pleading and pawing at him like a cat. more like a fox.

“i’m sorry, baby,” you scooted forward a bit more, your hands practically splayed over his crotch. “i’m sorry that i’ve hurt you, but i’ve changed, i promise,”

Leon’s teeth began to nip at his bottom lip, you know what you do to him, and continue to use that to his advantage. his breath hitched as your fingers came up to toy with the belt buckle of his pants.

“i’m a good girl now, i’ve always been your good girl,” you were messing with him; tugging at the strings of his heart and also at the hardening cock in his pants.

you could feel it, pulsing on the purchase of his thigh, filling up with blood with every small touch and sly word.

“that’s the problem with you, Leon,” your tone was quick to change. “you allow it. you allow me to hurt you, you allow me back into your life, you don’t even fight it,”

how can i? he thought. how can i when it’s you? you’re all i’ve wanted. you’re all i need. even if i wanted to turn you away, my heart won’t allow me.

you let your head fall into his lap. it’s so odd. even in a situation like this, you find yourself feeling comforted in Leon’s lap. even though he’s tied up and bleeding from a cut on his neck.

if it was just them in the comfort of his apartment, his hands would card through the locks of your hair and massage your scalp. you would nuzzle into his abdomen and he would chuckle as he buried his nose further into the daily newspaper.

why did things have to end up this way? why couldn’t you walk a different path? maybe in another universe, you and Leon weren’t rivals but rather friends or even lovers. touch

but this isn’t another universe. you were doomed from the moment you met.

“you’re right,” he admitted, “i can’t fight against you because even if i do,” he looked down at her. he could see you faintly through the black fabric of his blindfold, laying helplessly in his lap.

only if this was another one of those passionate nights.

“you’ll come crawling back into my lap anyways,”

an unamused scoff left your lips. he was right. even if he pushed you away, fought against you, and kicked you to the curb. you’d come crawling back, scratching at his door like a stray cat.

and he’d open the door and let you back in again.

and you could be gone for months maybe even years without any contact and he’d still sit on his porch, waiting for your return.

with a sigh, you took the tip of your knife and began to drag it in circles around the imprint of his cock. his femur muscles tensed up and his toes curled inside of his boots.

“you say you hate me and how revolted you feel when you think of me,” taking your thumb, you pressed down onto the tip of his cock, emitting a low groan from his parted lips.

“but i think you’re lying,” you began to draw circles with your finger at the tip of his dick. the friction from his jeans was only adding pleasure along with the pressure of your thumb.

you looked up at him from his lap, eyes wide at the way he was struggling to keep a straight face. his eyebrows were twitching, beads of sweat formed at his hairline and his chest was heaving up and down.

he was keeping his mouth shut, preventing any unwanted moans from slipping out; knowing that it would only feed your drive.

“when i cross your mind, is it really hate that you feel?” your thumb smoothed along his shaft moving closer and closer to the base.

“or does the thought of me make your heart rate peak and your dick swell?” he adjusted his lap, pushing his hips forward into your hand.

“stop,” he grumbled, biting down on his lip even harder. he didn’t want you to stop. he wanted you to take what was hers. he wanted to feel your plump lips wrap around the sticky tip of his cock.

he wanted to feel your warm mouth envelop his dick until tears brimmed in your eyes and you were struggling to breathe.

“tell me, Leon,” your tongue lolled out, kitty licking at his jean-clad cock. he wanted to grab you so bad; pin you down and rip off whatever garments you had on. but he was locked in place.

your saliva was slowly starting to seep through his jeans and his boxers. he could practically feel your tongue slowly licking up at the pre cum dripping from his swollen tip.

“what do you think of when i cross your mind?”

god. when he thinks of you he can’t help but feel the ache in his heart.

images of your prancing around his house in his clothes. your fit so much bigger, falling mid-thigh and draping off your shoulders. every time you reach up he catches a glimpse of your plump ass and the little panties you wear underneath.

he thinks of waking up next to you; you’re propped up on your elbow toying with strands of his blonde hair with your fingers. you’re still naked and you’re smiling down at him, welcoming him with a morning kiss.

he thinks of you spread out beneath him; your skin is wet and sticky with sweat. your fingers are curled in his sheets and you’re burying your head into his pillows — muffling the sweet moans of his name.

he thinks of holding you against him, rocking his hips into yours, and drawing out quiet and sleepy mewls from your plump lips.

then the image of you walking away crosses his mind. you look back at him once and then he doesn’t see you again.

but you’ll never know that. because he’ll never tell you.

and you know that. your question will always remain unanswered but that’s okay.

standing up from your position, you leaned forward until you were face to face. he was still breathing heavily, you could see his eyes moving about curiously from underneath his blindfold.

you reached up, swiping your thumb over his bottom lip. there was a small cut, now scabbed over but still very swollen and new. it was probably from when he fell after you hit him in the back of the head.

“i guess you’ll never answer me, huh?” you whispered, mostly to yourself but you knew that he heard. you grabbed his chin, tilting his head up slightly and he willingly followed your guide.

he was leaning towards you, blindly trying to find your lips. you couldn’t say no, leaning in closer you let your lips connect with his. a soft and slow kiss, one that is rarely shared between you two.

he needed you against him. you were too far. he needed to see you. he needed to touch you. he was deliberately twisting the chains of the handcuffs, hoping that the pressure would cause them to snap.

he was also tugging at the rope that kept his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. he needed to be set free.

not because he wanted to escape, but solely because he wanted to touch you. he could care less about whether you wanted the amber or not.

he knew what you wanted more. and that was him.

he leaned further up into your lips, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip swaying you to lean your head to the side and allow his tongue to push up against yours.

the iron taste on his lips was invading yours, his blood was warm and fresh, staining your lips like the sweet juice of a strawberry.

you moaned into his mouth, crawling into his lap with your knees on the lateral side of his thighs. he groaned at the sudden pressure of your hips on his. he ground his hips up into yours, desperate to feel any kind of friction.

your mouth dropped open into a shaky moan, and you began to grind your hips down to match his pace.

“fuck, you’re wearing that skirt aren’t you?” he groaned into your lips.

“your favorite,” you smirked. only if he could see you in it, just so he could tear it off of you anyway. that tight black skirt that hugged your curves so perfectly and the way your belt would hang loosely on your hips.

fuck, he could see it now. you bit down on his bottom lip, drawing out more blood from his cut. he winced, but it turned him on more than it hurt him. you were consuming him slowly, part of him will always be inside of you, whether it was the small drops of blood coming from his lips or the weight of him in your heart.

“are you wearing my favorite pair?” he asked breathlessly. he was trying to distract you, distract you from the fact his left foot was now free, and the chains of the handcuffs were slowly starting to lock. he just needs one more foot and for this damn chain to break, then he’ll finally be able to touch you.

it’s the one thing he wants the most.

you let out a small chuckle, “what do you think i’m using to blindfold you?”

fuck. so your bare pussy is rubbing up against the bulge in his pants, god. your lips moved from his, across his jaw, down his neck, and stopped at the cut you gave him earlier. you flattened your tongue over the dry blood dripping from his cut.

you nipped at the reopened cut with your teeth, causing him to falter. like a vampire, you sucked greedily at his neck, your hands running up and down his abdomen. he was helpless beneath you, and god, it was bad. he was praying for strength, praying you wouldn’t leave him like this, praying he’d get a taste of the sweetness dripping from your cunt.

finally, his right foot was free, and you were still unaware. he couldn’t help but smile a bit. you were so oblivious, driven by the lust running through your veins, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t as well.

then, snap!

he’s got you.

the sound of the chains breaking sounded through the room, and your breath hitched. at first, you thought it was something from behind the door, but you were mistaken. a strong arm wrapped around your waist and a hand gripped the back of your head.

one minute, you were seated in his lap, and the next, you were being slammed to the ground beneath you.

the air was knocked out of you, and your vision was a blur. it didn’t take you long to realize that Leon had escaped from his restraints. he was hovering above you, one hand keeping your wrists locked together above your head and the other holding your thighs apart.

you whined as your bare wet clit was exposed to the crisp, cold air. you arched up into him with great anticipation. he didn’t need to see to know the ways of your body. he didn’t need to see to know how to devour your sweet pussy or to suck at your pretty clit. he didn’t need to see to know how to fuck you dumb. all he needed was his hands and the cock pulsing in his pants.

“got you,” he heaved, hovering directly above your face.

you watched as the tip of his nose traveled from your chin down your neck, your sternum, your abdomen, all the way until he was in between your thighs. he kept a hold of your wrists, bringing them down from above your head so that they’re rested on your stomach. he was using muscle memory alone to map out where to be and what to do.

oh, how the tables have turned. now he’s in control.

he parted your quivering lips with his two fingers, using his thumb to lift the hood of your clit before his nose came to nudge at it gently. a small whine left your mouth, and your hips bucked up into his mouth.

“Leon,” your tone was both stern and pathetic at the same time. you didn’t know whether you wanted to order him around or beg him. he could feel how needy you were, dripping all over his fingers and legs quivering.

“you want to know what I think about, huh?” he asked, flattening his tongue over your slit and licking up to your clit. a deep moan left your mouth, and your back left the ground, arching into the air. “i think about you like this,”

his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard. you choked on your breath, your nails digging into your palms and the heel of your shoe digging into his back. his lips left your clit with a pop, “all spread out for me, quivering and struggling against my grip,” he continued.

his fingers teased the ring of muscle around your hole, and he could feel the way you were clenching around absolutely nothing. he spat onto your cunt, causing you to jump, that’s when he let his middle finger sink into your aching cunt.

a shiver ran through you, and your mouth dropped open into a gasp. your gummy walls clenched around him, sucking him in and begging for more. “i think about this pretty pussy,” he curled his finger upwards into that spongy spot that had you trembling.

“how tight it is, how wet it gets for me, how it tastes, and how it reacts to my touch,” his tongue flicked over your clit repeatedly as he sunk another finger into you.

“Leon!” you whined, digging your heel further into his back, and it hurt like hell.

“I think of your voice and how beautiful it is and how i yearn for you to say my name,” he was breathless now, focused completely on your pleasure and his. endless moans slipped past your lips; now you were completely enveloped by the pleasure and the passion, the lust and the heat.

wet squelches of your cunt sounded throughout the room, along with his heavy breaths and your moans. you were dripping on the floor beneath you, dripping all over his fingers and palms. it’s been so long since you were underneath him like this, and he was between your thighs.

it was your favorite sight. his hair was all messy, sticking to your inner thighs. even with your black panties tied around his blue eyes, but you knew you were staring at you. his cheeks were flushed red, and his eyebrows were turned upwards. this was pleasurable for him, too.

he loved nothing more than being suffocated by your plump thighs and sucking the sweet essence that dripped from your cunt.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” he breathed out. his fingers kept up at the same pace, curling up against your sweet spot repeatedly. it was driving you mad, every moan you let out and every breath you took in only made you dizzier and dizzier. every curl of his fingers and every flick of his tongue was driving you closer to the edge.

“i’m close,” you whined, writhing underneath him and clamping your legs around his head. he groaned into your clit, the vibration sending you off the edge. you clamped around his fingers, the muscles of your thighs spasming as you inhaled a sharp breath.

you came, and you came hard. stars danced behind your eyes, and your mind went blank. it was like a shock ran through you, all your muscles tensed and then relaxed. he gave your clit one last kiss, then another to your abdomen, then up, up, up until he reached your chin.

you could smell your cunt on his lips, and he gave you a taste by placing a wet kiss on your lips. a wet kiss that turned into a passionate and deep makeout, with tongue and clacking teeth. one hand was running up and down your side; he was making a mental image of your figure. that way, it’s forever permeated into his mind.

he was making a picture of you in his head: the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, the dips of your ribs, your plump breasts, and your stomach. your hands were tugging at the buckle of his belt; you were hungry and desperate.

you needed to feel him inside of you and the drag of his tip as he pounded in and out of you. his hand left your hip, and he reached to help you take his belt off. you let him do the work, focusing on exploring his body with your hands.

the rippling muscles of his back and shoulders, the warmth that radiated off his skin, the smell of his fading cologne, and the gunpowder on his clothes. his lips were so warm, tainted with the taste of your cunt.

it was so sloppy, so rushed. no words were needed to express the passion and the deep need for each other.

you helped him, taking your feet to push his pants down his hips. he groaned as he was finally able to free his cock, his tip was a deep red-purple, almost like a bruise. thick veins ran up the side, filled with warm blood. his balls, heavy and taut.

“Leon, hurry,” you were caught off guard when his hand suddenly came down and slapped at your clit, hard. you jumped, an unsolicited moan slipping past your swollen pink lips. he did it again and again, getting rougher each time.

“don’t,” slap! “fucking,” slap! “rush me!” SLAP!

“Leon!” you exclaimed.

you arched your back, feeling another orgasm inching closer. he grabbed the base of his cock again, bringing his tip down towards your clit. he slapped his heavy cock against your clit; it was so different this time because now you could feel the warmth of his pre-dripping onto you.

“fuck,” he cursed, pressing his tip into you, and as his tip stretched past that ring of muscle, you found yourself scratching down his arms and struggling to breathe. he was only feeding you his tip, thrusting it in, then out and in again. each time, it left you with a wet pop!

“look how patient you’re being,” he thrust in only a few more inches, teasing you but also himself. “see what you get when you’re patient,”

“fuck you,” you seethed, wrapping your legs around his waist and gripping the collar of his shirt, you flipped the two of you over; now he was on his back, and you were on top. you sunk onto the rest of his length, the sudden intrusion caused both of you to gasp.

your hips stilled, taking time to adjust, and his hands came to grip your thighs with a vice grip. your toes curled inside your heels, your skirt now resting around your hips, and your shirt under your bust. one of your hands rested on his chest while the other gripped at his jaw.

“you just don’t ever shut up, do you?” you spat, slowly beginning to rock your hips. you would laugh if you could see the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head. you were so fucking tight, so warm and wet, but made perfectly for him.

one of his hands reached for your hip, guiding you up and down the length of his cock.

“you piss me off,” your voice grew weak towards the end as his tip brushed up against your cervix.

“says the one who’s taking my dick so greedily,” his hips snapped up into yours, giving you a taste of what he could give you, and it was good. a loud moan lolled off your tongue. your hips are faltering, and your hips are bucking. he let out a breathless chuckle, “can’t even ride me anymore, you that eager, baby?”

he planted his feet onto the ground, gripping your hips, and thrust up into you hard. you slapped your hand over your mouth, preventing any other moans from slipping out, but even that failed. every thrust was like a ball of fire erupting inside of you; heat surged through every vein of your body, and you could feel it simmering down in your core.

“fuck, Leon,” you cried out.

you were a complete mess, digging your nails into his chest and crying like a pathetic bitch. it was so good, the pulsing of his cock, the drags of his swollen tip, and the way he hit your g-spot repeatedly with no fail. he was making a complete mess out of you, and you were letting him.

his balls slapped up against your ass, wet and heavy, eliciting the most lewd sounds.

“take it, baby, take it,”

you collapsed on top of him, letting him cage you against him as he continued to thrust into you. you sobbed into the crook of his neck, your knees and legs completely sore. his eyebrows knitted together as he struggled to keep his composure.

a ring of your juices mixed formed around the base of his cock and stuck to the tuft of dark brown hair at his abdomen. wet plats! and squelches were heard all around you, and you were completely blind to the fact that anyone could hear you.

“oh my god, take it,” he breathed out. you were reaching your second orgasm quickly, soaking his shirt with tears of bliss and drool, and he could tell from the way your walls were clamping down on the girth of his cock that you were close.

“want it inside, please! cum inside me, please,” you begged. he shut you up by grabbing a chunk of your hair and slamming his lips onto yours. you continued to moan and cry on his lips, struggling to kiss him back.

your mouth dropped open into a gasp as the tightness in your abdomen snapped like a rubber band. your thighs clamped on either side of his hips, and your walls clenched. you cried out his name as you came all over his cock, and he let out a deep grunt as he buried himself deep inside of you.

his fingertips dug into your back as he emptied his load inside of you, hot seed flooding your canal. you shivered at the feeling, wanting to crawl away from the overstimulation, but you kept yourself held down. he rolled his hips up, fucking his thick load into you deeper and deeper.

you both let out a deep breath, relaxing into each other and soaking in the bliss. he ran his hand up and down your back soothingly. his other was massaging at your scalp, a silent apology for pulling your hair earlier.

you sat up on his lap, his half-hard cock still sheathed deep inside of you. taking your thumb, you slipped it under his blindfold to slowly reveal him to the light. he squinted against the bright light, blinking rapidly to adjust to his surroundings.

he looked up at you. your hair a mess, your clothes wrinkled and dirty. your lips were swollen, and you were out of breath. you swiped your thumb over his bottom lip again, ogling the deep cut you gave him, both on his lip and his neck.

“did it hurt?” you asked quietly, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

he hummed into your lips and shook his head, “it’s fine,”

you pulled away, swiping away the dust beneath his eye and on his cheekbone. there you were, his sweet girl. so caring, so gentle. he knows deep down inside you don’t want to hurt him. you could’ve easily tortured him to answer, stabbed him in his thigh, and pulled out his teeth until he was rendered helpless.

but instead, you use your libido and sex appeal, you kiss him gently and clean his dirty face. this was the true torture, knowing that moments like these only last for a short while before you have to go back to hating each other again.

you stood up from his lap, his cock leaving you with a pop. as you stood up, you continued to leer down at him.

he rested his head back against the concrete before resolving to stand up as well.

“you knew i didn’t have it, didn’t you?” he groaned, tucking his dick back into his pants. you smiled to yourself, tugging your skirt back down your hips and dusting off the dust on your clothes.

it was obvious he didn’t have the amber, it wasn’t in his gear or any of his pockets when you searched him. you knew he didn’t have it from the start. you just needed an excuse to get him underneath you or on top of you.

before he could zip up his pants, you threw something at him. his quick reflexes allowed him to catch it before it dropped. when he opened his fist, he couldn’t help but smile a bit. your crinkled panties.

“expect me when you get home, Kennedy,” you smirked back at him, “i’m coming to take back what’s mine,”

he’ll never know if you meant your panties … or him.

divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

a/n: i apologize, i scheduled for this to post at 10:59 PM and i was wondering like ummm why am i not getting any notifs...turns out i scheduled it to post at 01:59AM .... so sorry guy :3! but i hope you enjoy this one :D!

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[ameliathornromance]

“My darling lady,” the familiar rumble sent the stack of coins you had been very, very carefully stacking tumbling down.

You sighed, watching all your efforts slide down and away to become one with the ocean of coins surrounding you.

Standing from the ledge you sat on, you crossed your arms as your Dragon Boyfriend rounded the corner of the vaults and beamed at you. “I’ve brought you something.”

“Again?” You sighed, exasperated.

It’s not that you hated that your Dragon brought you things. It was wonderful and you appreciated every gift he got you, but the lengths he went to sometimes alarmed you.

One time, he came back with a jaw full of gems and jewels worthy only of Royalty and nobles. He’d brought them back just for you to look at, like a cat bringing in a mouse. While they were amazing and you appreciated them dearly… it wasn’t worth gaining your approval.

Although the gesture was nice, he also returned with injuries of his conquest. You could see it in the way he moved, gingerly setting himself down on the bed of gold, wincing slightly as he had adjusted himself to become more comfortable.

His whole under belly had been stained with blood, his wings had little cuts and bruises on them, even an arrow stuck out from under his jaw.

It worried you every time he flew out of the vault. You weren’t worth the trouble for all of these amazing things. All you needed was his love and company and yet he still insisted on bringing you all the riches in the world… as if he didn’t have enough of it already.

This time, clutched between his jaws, he held a small sack… that seemed to be wriggling.

“What’s with that face?” He asked you, gently placing the sack down with the greatest care. “You don’t want to see them?”

“’Them’?” You frowned. The way your Dragon said it made it sound like there was something living he’d brought you.

The Dragon gently nudged the sack towards you using his snout.

Wordlessly, you rushed over to the sack and undid it’s top. The cloth splayed out and revealed- “Kittens!”

All disapproval vanished from you the moment you laid eyes on the tiny balls of fluff that mewed and meowed at you. The three small cats clambered over the cloth and onto your lap.

Each one was a different colour, ginger, black and white. “How did you get these poor things? Don’t tell me you flew with them! They must’ve been terrified!” You pulled them up to your chest, desperately trying to hold onto the three of them.

A proud puff escaped the Dragons nostrils at your approval. He bent his head down towards you. “They were given to me by a Witch whose cat had just had them. She said she didn’t have the space to take care of them and thought you might like them.”

“And no one saw you, did they?” You gave him a warning look as the ginger kitten decided to climb around your neck, tiny claws digging into your skin.

“No, of course not darling.” He leaned down to you, allowing you to place your forehead against his snout. “the Witch lived far out from any kind of village, as Witches tend to do.”

After a moment, you broke apart from your Dragon boyfriend and looked down at the kittens in your arms. The black and white one squirmed in your grip, desperate for their freedom, while the ginger one had decided to make that his sleeping spot and now dozed lazily.

What had you done to deserve this? To receive all of these beautiful things? What made you so worthy? There were probably hundreds of more people in the world who needed this more than you did.

“… You really don’t have to keep bringing me these things, you know.” You said after a moment.

“But I want to,” your Dragon rested on his stomach, head laid down on top of the sea of gold as he watched you try and keep a hold of your gifts. “You are one of my greatest treasures and a treasure deserves treasure of it’s own.”

“Now you’re objectifying me.” You teased, the black kitten wriggling free of your grip, rushing over to a red ruby that sat on the edge of your seat and sniffed it with intrigue.

Your Dragon gave a huff, “that’s not what I meant.” He was silent for a moment as you finally let go of the white kitten who went to go and join her brother sniffing the gemstone.

“Do you not believe that you are a treasure?” He asked.

“Well it’s not like I’ve done anything worthy of being considered a treasure.” You said, bitterly. “Sacrifices to dragons aren’t even considered special if they’re being thrown away by their people.”

Silence fell over the pair of you again. The two kittens had now realised that they could see their own reflection in the gem – but not register that it was themselves reflected back – and had now become crablike as their fur puffed and they swiped at the gem.

“Do you think,” your Dragon growled, “that these animals are any less prized because they were brought here just like you were?”

You whipped your head around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I took them because a witch wanted to get rid of them and I brought them to you, who fell in love with them at first sight.” His amber eyes pierced through you, like he was desperate to try and get you to understand. “Have they done anything worthy to deserve your love?”

“Well, no, not necessarily-”

“So why do you believe that you are any less deserving of all these things?” The Dragon questioned. “Yes, even though you were brought to my vaults as a sacrifice, someone who wasn’t considered to be that special other than to be a meal… but have you done anything worthy of this other than being the object of my affections? Just like these kittens here?” He pointed a claw at the – in comparison – miniscule creatures.

You opened your mouth to protest, to find some kind of objection in his logic. But Dragons are wise old creatures, there was no faulting them when they had a point.

Face burning, you looked away from him earning a chuckle from the Dragon chuckled. “Nobody in this world should feel as though they are undeserving of everything. People may have told you that you aren’t, that you are nothing more than a means to appease me, but that isn’t true.” He rose his head and placed his jaw on your lap, angled so he looked up at you. “You deserve all this and more. I intend to give it all to you.”

You pursed your lips, “does this also mean that you’ll also be more careful when you fly out?”

“Of course, I always am. I want to make sure I come home to you.” The Dragon gave a dismissive snort, “darling, humans know better than to try and actually kill me. All those injuries before were just a result of a… misunderstanding.”

At that, you raised an eyebrow and returned your gaze to him.

Your Dragon boyfriend caved, “okay, perhaps not a misunderstanding, but it isn’t my fault that they wouldn’t give me all their finest clothes.”

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@sunndust @greenie-c

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi! Have you seen the new Mickey Mouse Rebrushed trailer??? Twitter is goin crazy over it and how it’s related to twst 😭 just wanted to hear your thoughts on it

I did spot quite a few parallels with TWST from the Rebrushed trailer! I'm not familiar with Epic Mickey at all, so I'll just be commenting on what I noticed right away. You'll have to excuse my limited knowledge.

Firstly!! This design of Mickey is the exact same as the one we see in TWST. Most noticeable is his white face, which is a fleshy peach color in most modern iterations.

Mickey is reading Alice in Wonderland’s sequel, Through the Looking Glass. Of course, Twisted Wonderland has Wonderland in its title, and even opens with an Alice in Wonderland inspired dorm. Yuu and Mickey also connect via their dreams and through the mirror shared in their rooms.

The theme of dreams is very present and upfront here; Mickey wakes up from sleeping and then creeps to his mirror, which appears to be a portal into another world. Hmm... dreams, mirrors, and traveling to other worlds, now what does that remind you of? You'll also notice that Mickey's room is the exact same as Yuu's room in Ramshackle, right down to the "inverted" room that appears when Mickey passes through the mirror. Everything up until this point is very similar to what is depicted in the 1936 short, Thru the Mirror.

Next, Mickey spies on a wizard carefully using a magic paintbrush over what seems to be a diorama of a bunch of buildings on a plot of land. When the wizard leaves, Mickey fiddles with the paintbrush, causes a mess, and calls forth some kind of black ink monster with green light coming from within it. This seems to be a very close parallel to Overblots, particularly since the most recent OB has a signature neon green color. If we really are to connect Epic Mickey to TWST, this scene also seems to allude that Yuu, Mickey, and/or the "wizard" have parts to play in bringing these Overblots to life. And who do we know that is a powerful wizard that is aware of the corrupting power of blot and runs a large chunk of land... say, a campus? Crowley. This goes hand-in-hand with the theory that Crowley is intentionally allowing these OBs to happen or is even puppeteering his students into OBing.

I find this visual in particular to be very ominous; again, we have the colors that match a certain OB dragon fae but also the map itself reminds me of Twisted Wonderland's and the eerie visual of Malleus's thorns digging into Sage's Island and aiming to go way beyond it.

Anyway, the ink monster is temporarily contained while Mickey returns to his own world. We then get a montage of various Mickey media passing by, as well as a lot of imagery that would imply the passage of time (clocks, the date on the calendar changing, etc.). So... what? Is that implying not only parallel worlds, but also a time skip? Or maybe a time... loop? Like time loop theory???

The ink monster somehow eventually escapes and makes it to Mickey's world, with the blot dripping from the ceiling waking Mickey up from his sleep. It drags Mickey away into a hole drenched in ink. Kind of foreboding when you realize Yuu has also had prophetic dreams... Not of OBs, but of the events leading up to them. And being dragged away into an inky... opening? Like an... abyss? Like book 7, Ruler of the ABYSS?

That's how the trailer concludes!! Gotta say, there's definitely a lot of shared elements between this and TWST. If I recall correctly, Epic Mickey was a game that existed on the Wii waaay before TWST. It even has largely the same cinematic trailer (just with older graphics), so to me it feels like TWST probably took inspiration from Epic Mickey rather than the other way around. There are definitely too many parallels for it to be a coincidence. If that's the case, then we can probably pull some hints for what awaits us in the rest of book 7 from these cinematics. (This is a video comparing the two side-by-side if you think that might be of use!)

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As the trial date creeps closer, Bradley is having a harder time keeping himself from panicking. After you learn some interesting things about Bradley from an unlikely source, you do a little bit of digging. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You slept in until ten. You were sore. The good kind. The kind where you couldn't stop smiling. As you sat up in Bradley's bed and stretched, your eyes caught on your purple crown. There was a piece of paper hanging from it now. You reached for it and read the note he had left for you.

Princess,

I left my computer and the charger in the kitchen. I also plugged your phone in before I left. There are Skittles in the kitchen cabinet. Please text me when you get up. Noah asked if you're staying for dinner. Please stay for dinner. 

I love you.

My computer password is password1234

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Of course it is," you muttered, climbing out of bed and searching for something to wear. You made yourself some coffee with the vanilla creamer, and you spent the day filling out four job applications, eating Skittles, and attending a zoom lecture. You had done basically nothing strenuous, but by the time Bradley and Noah got back, you were yawning as you ran to see them. 

"Hello, boys," you said, kneeling to hug Noah. 

"Let's color dinosaurs," he told you, and you laughed as he led you to the table. 

"Don't I get a kiss or anything?" Bradley asked, unbuttoning his uniform shirt.

You looked at him and said, "You keep that on and I'll kiss you somewhere special later."

His hand paused on the buttons before doing them back up again. "Does that mean... you'd like me to have the uniform on later? Like after bedtime?"

You licked your lips and looked up at him, going for the most innocent look you could manage. "Please?"

Bradley grunted and kissed you a little rough. You tasted his tongue before pulling away from him. "I have dinosaurs to color," you informed him, dropping down onto the seat next to Noah. "And dinner is in the oven. I hope you like lasagna."

"You already know I'll eat anything you make," Bradley said, kissing you on the top of your head.

Noah tried to pronounce lasagna until you were barely holding in your laughter. "What's that?" he asked, handing you a pink crayon.

"It's kind of like spaghetti," you promised, coloring in a tyrannosaurus rex. "I already know you like spaghetti, so I'm just trying to expand your palate."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Can I have ants on logs?"

You knew he was going to ask, so you had already made them. When you took the container out of the refrigerator, Noah and Bradley had them polished off in a matter of minutes. "Your weekly grocery bill is probably more than mine is for the month."

"I don't doubt it, Princess," Bradley said, biting into the last carrot stick, still in that sinfully hot uniform. "Let's eat dinner, and then I'll clean up while you and Noah play."

"And then you'll take me home?" you asked cautiously looking up at him where he stood.

"Do you want me to?"

You didn't answer him. You just turned back toward the coloring book while he pulled dinner out of the oven. Did you want to leave? And go back to your tiny, lonely rental? No. You were still wearing Bradley's clothes, and you kind of wanted some more of your own stuff, but you didn't want to leave. Not really. You said nothing, and he didn't ask again. 

He did everything else to get dinner on the table. He plated the food, got drinks, and set the table. Then after everyone including Noah enjoyed the meal, he cleaned up. "You don't want help?" you asked, scooping Noah up in your arms. "Then we're going to watch some Mickey Mouse while we play with blocks."

"Sounds good," he said, putting some foil on the leftover. "Love you," he added casually as you took Noah into the other room. No, you did not want to leave.

------------------------

Bradley was still wearing his uniform. He'd tried to change out of the shirt twice now, but both times you had stopped him. Noah was looking a little sleepy, and Bradley didn't know what you wanted to do. He wanted you to stay over again. He wanted you to stay over until he got through the court appearance on Wednesday and hopefully returned home with Noah, free and clear of Meredith. But honestly, he wanted you with him longer than that.

"Princess?" he asked softly, and you stood up from the pile of blocks that Noah was working on.

"Yes, Daddy?" you asked, standing right in front of him and smirking. If he was alone with you right now, that smirk would be gone in an instant. 

"I need an answer, Baby. You want me to drive you home before I put Noah in bed for the night?"

Your hands found his waist as you gazed up at him. "I want to stay here, but I don't want to distract you leading up to Wednesday."

"Stay," he sighed. "Stay. We can swing by your place and pick up some of your things and then come right back here, okay? Stay."

So that's exactly what the three of you did. Bradley stayed in the Bronco with Noah while you ran inside your place for a couple minutes, and you came out with your usual tote bag plus a backpack. 

"You don't mind if I keep using your computer, right?" you asked before you climbed back in the front seat.

"You can use anything at my place."

The smile you gave him in response had him thinking about asking you things he had no business asking you yet. He closed his eyes briefly before putting the Bronco in reverse and heading back to his house. When you reached for his hand in the dying light, he held yours. And when you asked to turn on the playlist you made for Noah, he fell even more in love with you. 

Noah was half asleep by the time Bradley carried him inside, and when he reemerged from his son's room, you had changed into your own clothes. Bradley kind of missed his oversized shirts on you.

"I have a fun idea, Daddy," you said, and he was practically salivating in response. "I'm going to teach you how to cook."

His brow furrowed and he gave you a look. "That doesn't sound fun at all."

Your laughter in response had him agreeing with you anyway, and you were immediately coaxing him into the kitchen. "We can use up all of your food, and tomorrow I can go grocery shopping for you if you want. I could drop you and Noah off in the morning and then use your car."

"Baby, it's not a car.... it's a Bronco. And you can use it if you promise to be very, very careful with her. You can't park next to the cart return. Actually, you can't really park by anything. No trees, no shrubs, no other cars. Nothing."

You were trying not to laugh, he could tell. "Sure, Daddy. No problem. Now let's start cooking."

He kissed you softly. "You gonna let me change out of my uniform yet?"

"Don't ask me stupid questions. Of course not. You look hot. Now go ahead and grab all of the ingredients for this recipe," you told him, handing him your phone. He sighed and skimmed a recipe for chicken stir fry.

"Princess, there's no way I'm going to be able to make this," he murmured.

"That's an order, Lieutenant Bradshaw!" you snapped, and Bradley was instantly looking at you. "Or I'll make you do fifty push ups!" 

"That's nothing, Baby. I'll do a hundred for you," he said with a smirk, but what he got in response was a slap on his ass. 

"Get to work," you told him, hopping up on the counter with a bag of Skittles and a no-nonsense look on your face.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled, reading through the recipe again.

"And that dinner better be edible, or I'm not going to suck your cock, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am." He read the recipe a third time before he got the chicken out of the refrigerator. Bradley was starting to get a little nervous about Meredith, but you were certainly helping him keep his mind off of that. He got a cutting board and a knife ready along with some vegetables. 

"Don't forget the salt," you whispered, holding out a green Skittle and popping it in his mouth. 

"Thank you," he whispered back. And you kept offering him little hints here and there. You told him he was cutting the vegetables too small, and then you fed him a purple Skittle. You told him the oil needed to be hotter, and then you fed him a yellow one. You reminded him to keep moving the food around in the pan, and then you let him take a red Skittle from between your lips with his mouth.

"You're better at cooking than you think," you told him. "Noah won't have to keep eating boxed foods."

"That's really your goal here, isn't it?" he asked you, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead with his forearm.

"Of course. I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about him," you replied with a playful eye roll. "What's he supposed to eat when I'm not around?"

"Why would you not be around?" he asked cautiously. Then his mind started swarming with thoughts of Noah living with Meredith. 

He watched you chew on a Skittle before you softly said, "I'll be around." Your eyes dipped down his chest to his pins and buttons. You looked so young and sweet, and you reached for the knob to turn the burner off. "Don't want it to burn."

Bradley nodded and got a plate down. He carefully scooped some of the hot food onto the plate and handed it to you for inspection. "Give me a fork, Lieutenant," you commanded, and Bradley grabbed one from the drawer while you blew on the food. "I just ordered you a rice cooker and an apron from Amazon. The rice cooker will make your life easier, and you'll look cute in an apron that says Hot Daddy."

Bradley laughed as you raised the fork to your lips. "Thank you, but baby, I don't want you spending your money on me. You haven't even graduated yet."

"Just pretend like you never paid me to watch Noah, okay? I don't like that you ever did."

"Okay," he whispered, placing one hand on either side of you where you sat on the kitchen counter. He watched you take a bite of the chicken, and you moaned softly. Then you tried some of the vegetables before you fed him a bite.

"It's so good. And I barely helped you at all."

Bradley was actually impressed that he'd made something that tasted that nice. "So I have no excuse now but to make Noah a homemade dinner? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," you said, smiling at him as he set the plate aside. "You know how to cook, Lieutenant. I'm so proud of you."

He leaned in and rubbed his nose against yours before kissing you. "Do you still want me to do push ups for you?"

"Kind of," you replied, kissing his mustache. "Just because it would be sexy." 

Bradley did fifty push ups while you stood in front of him and counted them off, and he looked up at your legs and your denim shorts the whole time. 

"Damn, Daddy," you groaned as he hopped up when he was done like it was nothing. "My boyfriend is so strong!" He didn't even have time to respond before you were unzipping his pants and slipping your hand inside. 

When you knelt in front of him, he said, "You weren't kidding about sucking my cock, huh?"

"Not at all," you whispered looking up at him. Your lips were glossy again. Whatever you grabbed from your house, it must have included your lip stuff. God, he loved the way you looked. He loved the way you felt. He loved your tongue, licking the bead of his precum away as you stroked him with your hands.

"You're really fucking good at this," he moaned as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently. He stroked your cheek as you took him a little deeper, swirling your tongue as he throbbed. "Goddamn it." The slow, deliberate drag of your lips along his length was enough to make him buck gently.

You moaned around him before pulling him free, and then Bradley was treated to you sucking on his balls until he was panting. "Baby," he whined, his cock resting on your face. You weren't going to let him go any faster. He couldn't decide if fast or slow was what he wanted, so he left you in charge. 

And he was not disappointed when you licked him from balls to tip and said, "I want you to cum on my face."

He ran his knuckles along your cheek and chin. "You're so gorgeous, Princess. I'd love to paint you up and make you even prettier."

"Daddy," you whined before taking him so deep he saw stars. You bobbed along his length, gagging as you tried to take all of him. Your hand was cupping his balls and your saliva was dripping onto the floor as you gagged again. You looked up at him with watery eyes, and this time when he stroked your cheek, he could feel himself.

"So good," Bradley growled. "God, you're the best."

You sucked and bobbed until he was sure he was going to lose his mind, and then he withdrew with a snap of his hips. He stroked himself twice, whispered, "I'm about to cum," and then he watched you flinch and giggle as ribbons of white landed on your cheeks and lips. His cum hit your nose, and then you opened your mouth for him.

"Fuck," he grunted, pumping every last bit onto your beautiful features, and then he was between your lips again as you licked him clean.

"Baby, don't move," he begged, scrambling to find his phone. "Will you let me take a picture?"

"Yes," you said with a laugh, licking him from your lips. "You can add it to your dirty photo album. Remember the passcode?"

"I sure do," he grunted, snapping a few pictures of you kneeling on his kitchen floor with his cum on your face. And then he was kneeling too and kissing you and telling you he loved you. 

-------------------------

You slept better in Bradley's arms than you ever did at home. He told you once you were curled up in his bed with him that he was getting nervous about the custody hearing. You tried to be encouraging. "There's no way anyone would let someone take Noah away from you. You're his only parent as far as he's concerned. He only knows love from you, Bradley."

"And you," he said softly. Warmth filled your heart as he added, "Noah knows that you love him. He lights up around you, and he's just as comfortable with you as he is with me. You're the best thing that ever happened to us."

You were supposed to be the one comforting him. But you ended up dozing off in his arms filled with hope instead. The next morning, he let you drive his Bronco "as a test" on the way to Noah's daycare. You had offered to keep Noah with you for the day instead, but Bradley insisted you spend your time finishing your school projects. 

"Okay," Bradley said as you parked in the daycare lot. "I'm fine with you driving the Bronco around. Do you remember the rules about parking lots?"

"Oh my god," you mumbled. "You're really not going to get Noah out and move along with your day until I answer correctly, are you?"

"No." His face looked serious as you laughed and promised you wouldn't park next to the cart return, another car or any sort of living plant.

"That's my Princess," he crooned, running Noah inside once you'd said goodbye to him. Then you dropped Bradley off at work, but this time, you crawled across the seat to straddle his lap for a moment.

"I love you," he whispered as you combed your fingers through his hair and kissed him. 

"I love you too, Daddy. I'll pick you up here at five," you promised, pressing your forehead to his. "And then I'll cuddle you all night, and you won't be worried about tomorrow at all. I can see on your face that you're thinking about Meredith. But think about Noah instead."

He wrapped his arms around you and sighed. "I'm always thinking about Noah. And you. And us." He kissed you one last time, and you let him climb out. "I love you, Princess."

You waved to him on the sidewalk, and then Jake joined him, and you waved to both of them. Then you stuck your head out the window and called out, "Can't wait to have you again later, Bradley! Oh, hi, Jake."

Then you started the engine again as your boyfriend laughed while Jake walked away. If you could at least make him laugh today, maybe that would make dealing with tomorrow a little easier. But it was hard not to think about what he and Noah might be up against. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it. Instead you drove to the grocery store with Bradley's credit card tucked inside your wallet.

You got all the staples, including your coffee creamer and everything you would need to make a big batch of ants on logs. Then you picked out some things you could teach Bradley how to make along with everything Noah liked. And you spent over two hundred dollars. Bradley had assured you that you could get whatever you thought they all needed and put it on his credit card. 

You were skimming the receipt as you pushed your cart to the Bronco. "Yikes," you muttered, loading bag after bag into the back, extra careful not to bump his precious vehicle with the cart. Then you closed it up and took the cart to the return. 

Just as you were digging his key out of your pocket, you looked up. You made eye contact with Meredith. She was standing there, right next to the Bronco.

"What do you want?" you asked. Your voice sounded strong, and you realized you were not even slightly intimidated by this woman when Noah wasn't with you. What could she really do to you in the middle of a parking lot at nearly ten in the morning?

She looked angry, eyeing you up and down and glancing at the Bronco. "I can't believe he lets you drive that. It's worth a fortune," she said, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and scowling. 

The car key was digging into your clenched fist, but you didn't close the distance to her. "Let me rephrase my question: What the fuck do you want, Meredith?"

"Such a filthy mouth on you. And you're spending time with my child," she said casually. "Lovely."

"Are you following me?"

She rolled her eyes, and you hated her so much. You supposed you could see how she was physically attractive, but you only felt the desire to kick her. 

"I'm not following you. I'm about to go grocery shopping. This is the store I always come to. But I wouldn't mind chatting a bit. I'd be more than happy to use your potty mouth and the fact that you're sleeping with Bradley against him in court."

You laughed out loud. "Well, you'd have to actually show up first. Are you going to be there tomorrow? Or run and hide at the last minute again?"

Her scowl was back. "You have a lot of questions, huh? Well, so do I. Is all that life insurance money still in an account for Noah? Or did you spread your legs open wide enough to get Bradley to pay for your little nursing degree?"

You gasped out loud. You would never do that. You loved Noah and Bradley. And now you were afraid you'd just walked into a trap. Meredith was looking at you from ten feet away like it was a showdown. One that she intended to win, because she brought the correct ammunition when you clearly had not. 

"I guess the money is still there then," she said, starting to look more satisfied. "You know he'll never commit to you, right? He was always afraid of commitment."

"Yet you're the one who abandoned her child," you said softly, but not without conviction. 

She took a step closer to you, venom in her voice. "I didn't want to be held down, but things change."

"Do you even want him? Or are you just trying to get back at Bradley?" you asked, unable to stop yourself. "Because Noah deserves a family who loves him. You left them. But Bradley loves him. Bradley would do anything for him."

Her voice was like steel. "And I deserve a lot more than what I'm getting." She spun on her heel and started to charge away.

"What does that mean?!" you called after her. But she didn't stop or turn back. "Meredith!" You got nothing but the back of her blonde hair, and then she was in her BMW and driving away.

"What the hell?" you muttered to yourself, hands shaking as you put the key in the ignition and started the Bronco. You had to sit for a minute until you were calm enough to drive. Thank goodness you hadn't kept Noah with you today. Thank goodness you'd been alone. And at least Bradley didn't have to deal with this either. 

Oh, he was going to be so upset when you told him later. He'd be mad you didn't interrupt him at work this instant, but you weren't going to do that. You needed to get back to his house right away and get on his computer. Carefully, you put the Bronco in drive. Apparently this thing was worth a fortune. Bradley had a nice house, and he probably paid a pretty penny for Noah's fancy daycare. He told you to spend his money on whatever you wanted at the grocery store. But there was some sort of life insurance money, too? What was going on here?

Your brain was swimming, or maybe drowning as you parked in Bradley's driveway and forced yourself to carry in the groceries and put all of the food away before you locked the front door behind you and turned his computer on. You entered his ridiculous password which you were definitely going to have to make him change, and you started your search. 

Hours went by, and you subsided on only coffee. Then you checked the time on your phone. It was almost five o'clock. You were going to be late to pick them up, and now you had more questions than answers as you ran back out to the Bronco.

-------------------------

Okay, Meredith. Okay. Daddy will see you in the courtroom. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 24

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

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@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

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@little-wiseone

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@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[laurorne]

Could you pretty please write a little blurb of reader playing cat and mouse with Aegon after he denies her an orgasm? Like she uses the tunnels in the Red Keep to disappear out of his chambers? Thank youuuuu!

content: 18+ minors dni please, fingering, needy aegon, (1) denial of orgasm, fuck you aegon, mention of alcohol, game of cat and mouse at the end? a/n: i'm sorry that it's not really entirely on the orgasm denial i sort of just wrote with the flow (which is ass, please don't crucify me i'm ass at writing smut 😔🙏🏼)

The wet slide of a heady tongue weighs heavy on your throat. His hand's paw at the little skin afforded by the silky dress you wear, something from one of the Dornish ports. It’s light and breathable and it makes your tits cold.

He’s mouthing along your throat and dropping to kiss along your perked tits through the mesh-like fabric, leaving wet marks at her sucks at them through it.

How... desperate. Desperate and depraved.

It makes your thighs clench together as he grasps and squeezes and grabs. His hips are rocking unevenly against your thigh, breath hitching every slide as he whines needily. His tunic is falling away as he loses himself, whether to the wandering hands, the rut of his cock or the feeling of your hands stroking through his hair and your nails dragging against his scalp.

A large hand starts digging up underneath your dress, soft fingers petting at the silky skin of your thigh, creeping higher, higher, higher. And you let him part your legs to allow his hand to dance across the skin. His lips move from suckling blooming bruises under your jaw to capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

His tongue sliding over yours while his fingers finally find the wet heat of you. A fingertip dragging from your slit to your pearl, rubbing a tentative circle over it as he memorises the pitched mewl that slips from your throat. His tongue brushes past your lips as you do so, licking into your mouth and whining at the taste of the wine you'd been drinking not long before.

He's egging you on with the way he circles back away from your clit, a single finger dipping into your cunt crooking slightly as he searches for that hot spot inside you. And god, does he make your stomach clench and your thighs tremble as he does it.

The wet drag of that finger inside you has you whining loudly, breaths coming in short as his thumb finally drags over your clit. Almost like he pities the way your hips writhe to gain some type of friction against him.

He nips at your bottom lip as he slips another finger into the tight heat of you, groaning when your cunt flutters around the intrusion. The sloppy kiss he pulled you into is devolving into open-mouthed panting against each other as he quickens the rocking of his fingers, the way his fingers curl is heavenly. Your back is aching as you arch up into him, your hips working with the rhythm he sets while his free hand rucks up your dress till it pools at the angle of your hips.

There’s a heat in your stomach that you eagerly chase against Aegon’s fingers, your hand curled around his forearm whilst the other clenches the sheet beside your head. Dear Seven, how sinful.

Your eyes flutter open -when did they close?- and you meet his heated gaze, your state undoubtedly matching his as his eyes dart downwards to admire his fingers sinking knuckle deep into you, the wetness glistening on his fingers when he pulls them from your cunt to suck them into his mouth. At first, absolute anger fills you at the lost orgasm before your lilac iris' meets his as he mouths at the digits in the lewdest display you've yet to see from him. You're not entirely sure if you wanted whatever that was, or the orgasm more.

Probably the latter, but you can't stay angry when he looks at you with those wet eyes and ducks forward to press a heady kiss against your lips, you can taste yourself on the spit at the corner of his lips as he pulls you in deeper. And when you move to lean away from him, you see the way he tries to follow you desperately, his whole body trailing after you as he yearns for more and god does your pussy ache at the things you want him to do to you.

Until he speaks. "Pl-please let m-"

"Aegon." You splay a hand out on his chest to push him back, it's easy when he's this stupid on his lust.

"But-"

"No."

"I'll have a servant fetch moon tea." You can't help the way that you swallow at the state of him, whiny and wanton and so insistent on fucking you. His lips are slick with spit and his eyelashes are nearly brushing against his cheeks, he looks fucked out and you're not sure you have the heart to continue refusing him.

You bite at the inside of your cheek as you lean back on your arms, chest heaving as you stare him down. He looks entirely earnest and you're not sure if it's about his promise or how much he needs you in this moment.

"Only if." He perks up immediately, the kicked dog persona falling away as his hands knead the muscle of your calves.

"I'll summon for it now." When you nod, he's up from the bed in a flurry of the unbuttoned fabric of his shirt and askew pants, pale hair messed up.

That's your cue, you slink off the bed hurriedly, dress covering your legs again as you pad as quickly and quietly as you can to the secret passage across the room you had snuck into his wing of Maegor's Holdfast using. The last thing you see of your darling Aegon is his bewildered expression at his now-empty bed as you pull the entrance shut and disappear into the dark passageways of the Red Keep.

If he's not so truly pussy-drunk, mayhaps he'll find you. Or not. You wouldn't put it past the man to fall asleep.

There's a glide between your thighs as your cunt weeps at her denied ecstasy. When you round a dimly lit corner and hold still to wipe away the slick do you hear the heavy footsteps not so far away.

You're in for a fucking if he catches you.

So you run.

Not so quickly he won't catch you gods no, but not so slow as to make it easy for him.

The night is still young, after all.

[justcallmesakira]

"Only mine, you are tonight"

Summary: Sitting on his lap in a luxurious room with a comfy velvet couch exceapt with his teeth digging on to your skin like an apple

Fyodor x reader

Warnings: sort of nsfw (nothing smutish happens) , suggestive, hickeys, biting, no pronouns, fyodor gets turned on by reader

Genre: suggestive *very*

"Until blood drips, just like the sugery sweet from an apples skin~"

"fyodor?" you softly call out your lovers name from the frame of the door waiting for an answer. "yes, my love. Come in" he answers back.

You walk towards his sitting position where he was peeling, the smooth red peels slowly coming off to the silver linen plate.

"sit on my lap, my little mouse" his voice carries a hint of command as it soothes your ears. His lap is all ready for you, the black pant he wears perfectly suites his thin legs.

A sweat drips down your jaw feeling nervous to do something so intimate, its rare to see him so attracting and physical.

Your steps make a clacking noise on the clean tiles of the floor. The room has a somewhat red light to it, glowing red tulips stuck beneath the glass floor.

Truly an ethereal feeling but what deeply excites you the most is placing your each of your thighs beside his, making his legs stuck between your legs.

You could feel this red lit room fill up woth tension, your breathe internally screaming for some type of touch.

"What is it my dear, do you need something?" his teasing voice only makes you stutter more. Fyodor takes a bit out of the crimson red apple and keeps the fruit on the table, turning his attention to yours.

He only smiles, a scary yet so very handsome look in his eyes. His nail bitten fingers slowly reach for your chin, pulling you closer to his face before pushing the piece of the fruit into your mouth which you had to chew on

"Swallow" he commands and you oblige, slowly munching on the sweet fruit.

As you did, you could feel cold hands grab your wrist and pull them towards him, the man's breathe hovering over the nape of your skin.

His tongue glazed your neck, a simple lock turning into a love bite making you yelp. "fedya..." you moan out his name, needy.

Your words fall on his ears making him grin and only indulging in placing more bruises in other parts of your neck, turning them red.

"Do you not enjoy this, my little mouse?" he asks as you could only feel your weight loosening on his lap which gives him more access to you collarbone.

Again you remain silent, you whimpering only turning him on to place more hickeys on your collarbone, who knew what was going on in his mind?

And by the end of this lovely heated session, your neck would probably be filled with red like a new grown apple tree

a/n: I can't believe I am writing this,

tags: @little-miss-chaoss @velvetyvoyage @biscuits-tragic-diner @terururuko @inojuuy

[pepperpepi]

HOW do you come up with these creative object ideas please teach me your ways

(mainly regarding Chester cheddar(?) and fossil)

HEH!!! i dunno!

for woodsy, i was already really fascinated by trees and wood and saw a tiktok of some guy digging up petrified wood and i was like "Cool!" and went along my way

a while later i needed a character to sign up for in an object camp and i wanted to make a new one!! tahts when. thats when i Remembered. "petrified wood..." echoed in my mind... it was my calling.... i was like haha this would be an awesome gimmick! he's 'petrified' all the time! heh!

so i looked up petrified wood on pinterest and saw such a BEAUTIFUL piece of blue petrified wood!! so then i researched petrified wood for the next few weeks straight and woodsy was born ❤️

here is me going insane over the revelation HYELP (probably some inaccurate info here tbh)

for chester, i was struggling a little! i get help from pinterest while trying out different objects but i ended up using a scrapped oc (mouse trap) and tweaking it a ton!!

heres sum concept doodles i did during school! you can guess which one i ended up getting attached to HELP

i like how i made him a mouse trap because it makes sense to his character and what not!! heh!

anyway TLDR pinterest is ur best friend while making object show characters ANDDD take inspo from ANYTHING!!! you'll never know what could make a cool object oc

[witchygagirlwrites]

Their Thief

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead

Jay and Mouse can't find their missing clothes until they realize they're sharing a bed with their thief @desimarie12

It started small. First Mouse couldn’t locate the new pack of socks he’d bought the week before. After going through the house twice he finally gave up. Either they’d turn up or he’d just buy another pack. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

Then Jay couldn’t find his favorite Henley. Both men went over every inch of the house, even moving the washer out from the wall to ensure it hadn’t fallen when someone was doing a load. It seemed like the shirt had just fallen off the face of the earth the last time Jay had taken it off.

“Is Y/N missing any clothes?” Jay asked Mouse when the two of them were down in the tech room, listening to a wiretap on a suspect’s phone. Mouse shook his head “I asked her last night. She swears we just sit stuff down and forget where we put it” 

Jay laughed “She’s probably right, I mean the last time I saw my henley was when we were watching the movie and she walked in..” “Wearing that little black number she surprised us with” Mouse finished, a grin working its way onto his face when he remembered the night in question.  

Jay nodded “So she’s more than likely right, besides it hasn’t been anything else so not a big deal, right?”

“We do multiple loads of laundry a week! Why can I find a freaking shirt!” Jay cursed, digging through his dresser. Mouse walked into the room behind him, a chuckle falling from him “Well, I mean I personally like you better this way and I know Y/N does too”

Jay cut his eyes over his shoulder at him “Yeah well Voight isn’t gonna. I need a shirt man, help me find one” about that time you walked into the room carrying a basket of laundry on your hip. “Must I keep you two dressed?” you teased, tossing a shirt at Jay’s head then leaning over to press a kiss to Mouse’s lips.

Mouse grinned at Jay over your head “She does kind of keep us in line” Jay grabbed you by the belt loop and pulled you in for a kiss “Yeah I know. That’s why I told you we needed to let her have us both and not make her decide” you blushed remembering that awkward conversation. “We gotta get to work you two” you reminded them and they both groaned “Fine”

“Ok, I fucking give up. Either I’m losing my damn mind or we have a fucking thief stealing just our clothes” Mouse grumbled. He was going through his dresser, trying to find his star wars sleep pants. “What’s gone now?” Jay asked, walking into the bedroom to find his boyfriend’s dresser looking like a tornado hit it. “My sleep pants”

Jay nodded slowly “So the chances of you having seen my blue t-shirt?” Mouse froze in his tracks then rocked back on his heels. “The blue one with the v cut?” Jay nodded “The soft one that Y/N likes so much”

Mouse shook his head “We’ve been played Halstead” and stood up, walking over to your dresser. Normally the guys stayed out of it but this was extenuating circumstances. The first drawer he tried he found his missing socks and Jay’s henley. He held them up and Jay shook his head “She’s the thief” 

“I bet I know where my pants and your shirt are,” Mouse told him and headed out of the room, motioning for him to follow.

____________

You were curled up on the couch, watching a movie when Mouse walked into the room trailed by Jay. You smiled seeing them both “Hey loves” Mouse raised an eyebrow “Baby, do you currently have on any clothes that belong to you?”

 You moved the blanket that covered you and saw a smirk slip onto both their faces when they clocked their missing clothes. “Um, my underwear?” Mouse sat down next to you and pulled the waistband of the sleep pants out “Love, those are my boxers”

Jay started laughing and sat down on your other side “No Greg, the answer is no. Our girlfriend is a thief. A detective that’s a thief at that” you shrugged as they both scooted closer to you “At least I’m a cute thief?” Jay shook his head “Christ, how did I end up with you two?”

You turned to look at him and he grinned “I mean I love you baby” you nodded “That’s better and I love you too” you turned to lay against Mouse and put your lower half in Jay’s lap “I love you Greg” you told him and he grinned “I love you too you thief”

[grudgecollector]

God Help The Fool

Pairing: Bo Sinclair / Reader

Summary: Even as a long time residence of Ambrose, you could have barely prepared yourself for what would happen tonight. Your curiosity pulling you closer and closer to the front door, to your doom.

Words: 827

Tags/Warnings: Blood, attempted murder, light descriptions of gore, descriptions of stabbing, Bo's anger

A/N: Um hello... It's been quite a while since I've written any sort of fan fiction in like two years probably, so I apologize if this isn't very good LOL

I have recently been hit with inspiration to write again. I've realized I really miss it.

In the future some of my fics may be a little more centered around Creep and Josef, but I did rewatch House of Wax for the first time in a while last night and it just makes me AGH

I'm not entirely sure how active I will be, but I'm hoping to revitalize this blog and make it into a home for me and anyone who has similar interests once again.

Your ears ring, fingers tightening around the handle as you dig the knife deeper into the flesh of your sudden victim. Your eyes burn, tears threatening to drip down your bruised cheek. A cloudy puff of air comes from your parted lips, the cold winter wind biting into your skin. 

Dark green eyes were staring into your own with both rage and fear, his hands closing harder around your neck as he continued to try and strangle you. The air was being snuffed from your lungs, a fire building up in your chest as you struggled under his strength. 

It felt as if your neck would snap, the way the heel of his hand dug into your windpipe. 

You twisted the knife further into his torso, making him groan in pain. Whatever strength you had left you used, attempting to wiggle the knife around like a joystick on a jammed arcade machine. 

In this moment you felt like you could accept death. Whatever sins you have committed in your life have finally caught up in one foul game of cat and mouse. No matter how hard you tried to fight him off he stayed glued in his place, bloody spit coming to his lips before dripping onto your nose, down to your cheek. 

You heard a warped voice yell above you, it sounded so close yet so far away.

There was a sudden release of pressure around your throat, a harsh breath of cold air filling your burning lungs. You let out a wheezing cough, clutching your chest with a bloody hand as you attempt to suck in more air. 

The ringing in your ears never stopped, your head was spinning, you felt like you would throw up any second. 

Bright white dots blurred your vision, making it impossible to know which way you crawled.

In some way you believed you would be safe from the chaos that occasionally reigned through the quiet, empty town of Ambrose. No matter how much you have seen or heard during your time living here. 

It was tonight that your naivety finally caught up to you. A simple look out the front door ending in you almost dying. 

You should have listened to Bo when you told you to stay upstairs, you should have listened to Vincent when he told you not to move from the closet minutes later, and most of all you should have listened to Lester when he told you to not let curiosity get the best of you. 

There was a tingling sensation on the side of your face, numbness prickling your skin. 

Slowly, your eyes open to see Bo’s fiery ones, his forehead creasing in worry as he lightly caresses the skin around your throat. 

You knew he was angry with you, you could feel it radiating off of him as he stared down at you, chest heaving.

He grabbed your tired arms and hauled you to your feet, making you stumble forward into his chest, where you clutched onto his black button-up weakly. 

“I-” You attempted to choke out an apology, but your throat felt like sandpaper, forcing a cough from you once again. 

“Not now.” Was all he managed to say, his rage bubbling as he glanced over towards the now mangled corpse of the man. 

Bo could barely contain his blood lust in normal circumstances, but when he saw you on the ground like that? It was like something else entirely took him over. 

He wasn’t sure if it was the dominance inside him, watching as some stranger hurt what belonged to him, or if deep down it was the fear of losing something he loves. 

Either way, the younger man did not stand a chance against a seasoned killer such as Bo Sinclair. The wrench the older man wielded now lodged into the broken skull of your attacker, a now unusable body for Vincent’s evergrowing gallery of wax figures. 

Bo could not find it in him to care though, he knew a replacement would be lured in eventually. 

He slammed open the front door of the house, making his way to the kitchen towards his twin who had probably just come out from his studio. 

“Vincent! Take her, there’s still another out there somewhere.” Bo practically shoved you into his twin’s arms, “And do not let her out of your fucking sight.” His darkened eyes glared at you, something vulnerable swirling deep inside. 

You didn’t take his harsh tone to heart, having been with Bo for as long as you have, you have dealt with his outbursts before.

This felt different, though, while his anger was evident, the thing that stuck out to you more was the wetness in his eyes. 

His eyes did not linger on you for very long, his heavy boots stomping back towards the front door. The harsh closure of the door made the walls rattle, some small things falling from the shelves hung up on the walls. 

[trixter-god]

Classical Conditioning

Paring: Bruce Wayne x Logan Howllet

Summery: Logan and Bruce play a game of cat and mouse or is Bat and Wolverine?

Warning/tags: smut, 18+, one shot, mlm, gay, old man yaoi, cursing/profanity, jealousy, crack ship, self indulgent, oral (male receiving), I gave Bruce normal friends

Chapters: 1/1 (completed)

Words: 4572

An: Merry Christmas and happy holidays you filthy animals. Everyone thank MCR for keeping me up long to finish this lmao.

How did he even end up in this situation? That question had become a staple in Logan's everyday life as of late. It certainly didn’t help that he somehow found a home in the worst city on the east coast. Gotham city for all its mysteries and ever rising crime rates was at its core just some shitty new jersey city. Yet only this one kept Logan coming back like he was out of cigar’s needing a nicotine fix. He’d normally blame his old age for making him circle back to old haunts wondering if anything he remembered stayed the same but he’d also be stupid to admit he was sticking around for merely nostalgic reasons. He could still hear Scott’s laugh ringing in his ears thinking about the call he made what felt like forever ago telling Scott he was staying in this hellhole for a bit longer than originally planned only to find increasingly dumber excuses to not head back upstate. No he was here because he somehow found someone who understood him before they even said two words to each other. Someone that he could relate to without having to hide the darker parts of himself. A fact that still made Logan uncomfortable if he thought too hard about it but luckily his thoughts don’t normally linger. Plus he hasn’t made a run for it yet so he assumed this was going well. Logan would never say it out loud because it would make him sound like one of Rouge’s shitty romance novels but he was stuck in Gotham because of a man. A paranoid, stubborn, hypocritical, annoyingly charming, and very pretty man.

Which is why Logan was now sitting at the bar of some overpacked, overpriced club he swore he wasn’t gonna be at. With a dark whisky in one hand and his other digging into the meat of his thigh so as not to leave dents in the dark wood in front of him. The deep crease in his brow and the almost permanent frown on his lips gave out the obvious signs he didn’t want to be here. Though that didn’t stop the occasional drunk girl who was dared by her equally drunk friends to talk to him. Thankfully they were easily shooed away with a raised eyebrow or a firm no to their advances. Not like he wouldn’t be interested if it was any other night he just had a very specific itch he needed to scratch that only could only be done by the only other person in this room who probably had every exit mapped out in his head just in case. He was just about to ask for a new drink when that fucking addictive smell hits him again. Leather, citrus, pine, something else that Logan didn’t know but made the crease in his brow deepen. Sharp brown eyes cut through the crowd of drunks to the vip lounge where sat the reason why Logan was sitting in a hard ass barstool in increasingly uncomfortable jeans.

Bruce Wayne.

Orphan, playboy, millionaire, pain in his ass, and dressed like the fucking Holster store mannequin he was. Sleeves rolled to the elbow accentuating his arms in that dark blue practically see through button down which was unbutton to an outrageous degree. Bruce’s synthetic second skin worked overtime to cover up the miles of scarred and torn flesh that only Logan had memorized like the back of his own hands. Giving anyone with a pair of eyes the view of his tone physique. All tucked into those fucking pants.

Where the fuck did those even come from? Logan wasn’t one for keeping close attention to someone’s fashion choices but he would have definitely remembered tearing those in two. black slacks made from some expensive fabric just tight enough to accentuate what Bruce woke up at unholy hours of the morning to train for. If the place wasn't packed in like sardines Logan would have dragged Gotham’s sworn protector by his perfectly disheveled hair back home to that obnoxiously big bed of his. Finally get to sink his canines into that teasing smell that has been following him the whole night. Just a hint of that disgusting concoction of scents it was over. Logan was hot wired to it like the good hunting dog he was and he wasn’t leaving without his prey. Yet why did it feel like he was the one being hunted?

Bruce was barely listening to whatever the story was being told to the table. He’s been barely participating since that pissed off Canadian took a seat at the bar. Giving a nod or a laugh when it was appropriate but studying the way Logan’s shoulders would tighten when the air vent perfectly positioned above his head would turn on in ten minute cycles knowing with that enhanced sense of smell that Lo possesses could pick him out even in a room full of sweat and alcohol. Bruce normally hated the feeling of being quietly tracked but it was different when he was asking for it. That rush of adrenaline he’d been normally numb too thanks to his nightly escapades now crawled over his skin. The bat did have a reputation of killing the mood. He just wasn't aware how much it had bleed into his personal life. That was probably why Bruce has gotten increasingly attracted to danger over the years and what's more dangerous than willingly being stalked by an apex predator.

It was a simple case of classical conditioning, something that Bruce found increasingly more entertaining even if it was an accident. Who would have known Logan's mutant genes made him more susceptible to being easily persuaded by just a bit of cologne. Now Bruce knows he isn’t absolutely innocent that his instinctually inclined friend seemed to want to jump his bones the moment he got even a single inkling that Bruce was gonna touch that bottle that sat in the back of his bathroom cabinet let alone wear it out anywhere. Sure it was “brucie’s” signature scent and maybe it's the only strong cologne he wears in general but he did have no intention of turning Logan into a Pavlo’s dog experiment. Happy accidents and all that.

A hard glare was shot his way after only five minutes of Logan pretending he wasn’t sitting roughly 13.65 feet away. Not that Bruce cared all that much, Logan can stew at the bar for as long as he wants. He doesn't assume that that will be much longer, coinciding Logan's right hand having been firmly drugged into the thigh of his well-worn jeans for an hour now. Not to mention that prominent vein just peeking out of the collar of his flannel. Wonder how long it would take before Bruce finally got to see it pop.

Now Bruce did ask if he wanted to come out with him tonight. Maybe finally meet the few people he considers his normal friends but no. Logan said he was quite content staying home watching tv and loosely keeping an eye on the kids while Batman was off duty for the evening. Which Bruce was fine with even if he did intentionally rummage in the “what happens in boring school stays in boarding school” section of his closet. Squeezing his now built frame into pants that used to be baggy on him. Getting an ego boost that he could in fact still fit in them yet increasingly more humbled as he struggled to button them for longer than he’d say aloud.

Bruce’s calculated thoughts were broken up by a soft hand against his chest bringing him back to the party he was supposed to be participating in. The semimonthly gathering of his old college friends. Michael, Ben, both his college roommate at Gotham Academy for the five months of pre-med he took before realizing there was no fun in being his father. Michael’s wife Michelle who hasn’t looked up from her phone since they arrived, and Nicole, an old fling of his, highly intelligent woman, sat pressed against his side batting her heavy lidded eyes at him innocently as if her stiletto nails hadn't been not so subtly tracing any portion of his exposed skin all night. He gave a smile that wasn’t meant for her catching the sudden hard scrape of a bar stool from the other side of the room.

Logan can’t tell what’s pissing him off more, the shitty DJ that doesn’t believe in too much base, the cheap ass whiskey he was forcing down that was more bite than burn or the way those famous steel blue eyes catch his glare just long enough to tell him what he already knows. He’s being played like a goddamn fiddle. Actually it was probably that pretty little blonde who’d been hanging off HIS billion dollar baby the whole night. Sitting so close she was practically in Bruce’s lap.

The blonde makes a bold move which makes the glass in Logan’s hand threaten to crack under his grip. Her hand slipped down the front of that deep navy button up, ghosting over the very open front of Bruce’s shirt to get a feel of what Logan’s knows first hand is well trained muscle. Logan bites back the growl that wanted to crawl out of his throat when Bruce— no not Bruce. Brucie cracked a shit eating grin at the bold blonde. Well truly it was a gentle charming smile but Logan knew fucking better.

He should’ve been embarrassed of how fast he succumbed, It was probably a new record honestly, if his brain wasn’t busy imagining the way he wanted to become front page news for Vale’s gossip blog. He could see the headlines now. “Bruce Wayne bent over in front of the crowd” maybe she’d make some shitty pun that he’d have no choice but send it to Wade, that's if that loud mouth wouldn’t already be blowing up his phone with those fucking emoticons that somehow mean something suggestive. Why did he even mention that walking ball of cocaine and cancer? He’s not even here and yet the mere thought killed his very small buzz. Logan rubbing his face before downing the rest of his whisky hoping it would keep him satisfied for now. He had a point to prove. A point he didn’t know but peeled himself out of his favorite recliner to follow Gotham’s Prince downtown to some shit club anyway. Logan gave his head a shake before getting back up, keeping his back to temptation to go sneak a smoke outside.

Bruce gave a pout watching Logan head out the front and not towards him. Looks like Wolverine is finally getting used to his tricks. Bruce noted that for next time already thinking of the needed adjustments.

“What’s wrong Bruce? Is Michael boring you as bad as he is me?” Ben’s voice cut through his thoughts making his pout turn into an awkward smile. Bruce couldn’t even think of an excuse before Michael’s heavy old Gotham accent butted in.

“Oh piss off benny boy, everyone loves my stories.”

“They love your stories all right. Everyone at this table knows that after you took that fist to the face Kevin had to pull you out.” Ben crossed his arms leaning back into his chair. His signature smirk landed on his lips.

“Tomatoes, tomatoes. So I took the first hit. It doesn't matter who actually finished the guy off, we all won.” Micheal tried to wave Ben’s comments off.

“If I remember correctly we all got detention for a month.” Bruce finally found his footing picking up his barely touched glass of champagne. Giving the glass a small swirl in his fingers just keeping busy. “Not to mention you got a concussion.”

“Yeah, but we won. Which reminds me of another story.” Micheal retells some story about his football years. Snapping at the young waitress who was checking another table. Earning him a solid hit in the shoulder by his wife, Michelle, making Ben let out a snort.

“Eyes in the back of her head.” came a much softer voice to his left. Nicole made her quiet presence known with a hand on this thigh looking out in the direction Logan disappeared from. She rested her chin in her hand giving him a knowing glance.

“Who’s the cowboy?” She asked, amused.

Bruce gives her his best shifty eyed confused expression as he made sure no one else was listening. Luckily Ben was too focused on correcting everything that’s coming out of Micheal’s mouth and Michael is just trying to yell over him that they don’t notice. Michell never looked up from her phone.

“What?” Bruce breathed out pretending to be flustered in confusion.

She only narrows her eyes looking him up and down. The woman used to be an analyst; she could smell tension before she knew there was tension. Dangerous skill to have so close to you, one he had even closer at one point in the past. He Should have known better than to date a physiatrist but you live and you learn.

Nichole drums her well kept nails on the top of the table. “Oh please, you’ve been pining all night.” She lowered her voice taking a long sip of her martini.

“He’s a good catch, how’d you get him?”

Bruce chuckled, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over to Logan’s now empty seat at the bar. How did he do it? Bruce remembers how it started, a rather intense argument over something he couldn’t remember that turned into an event that The Hall of Justice had seen before. Yes, those tapes were deleted and yes, it did end up happening again. Far too many times until it evolved into whatever it was now. Too serious to be a fling yet they were far too old to be boyfriends. Maybe partners was the correct word even if it made Bruce feel very old. He didn’t like to linger on a title and Logan ever cared to name it.

“Just picked him up one day, haven’t let him go yet.” He shrugged at the blonde. “I have a problem with picking up strays.” That earned him a small chuckle even though he was serious.

“I understand that.” Nicole tipped her glass to him and he in turn did the same. The soft clink seemed to echo between them.

・・・・・

The night air in Gotham was always cold. Something Logan found oddly comforting about the city. The end of his cigar bloomed in the darkness of the alley as the music from the club thumped quietly through the wall behind his head. He rolled his shoulders back hearing a rare pop from his spine. The tension in his neck released, making a string of repetitive words tumble out of his mouth on instinct. “I'm too old for this.”

He debates with himself again, that urge to leave, another to just throw his patience out the window. Logan watched the smoke disappear from his lips into the dark night around him as the sound of rusty hinges echoed in alleyways. His nose twitched. Leather, citrus, and pine. A dangerous combination and yet he didn’t make a single effort to leave. The sound of expertly polished shoes echoed in the small alley until that smell turned into heat by his side. Logan picked up his head to look over at his… at Bruce. Bruce didn’t return the gesture instead staring off at the door he just snuck out from. How he managed to get away from a crowd without worry was something only he could pull off. The tension was softer than it was inside.

“Does this mean i win?” His voice was rougher than intended as he talked around the cigar on his lips. Logan mentally thanked the cold for that as he took one last puff before snuffing out his cigar against that palm of his hand. That burn was welcomed as the action made the heat beside him scoff. “Got something to say princess or you just gonna play mute?’

Bruce hummed softly in response. If Logan didn’t have such good hearing he would have missed that almost mocking sound. “Thought you didn’t want to come out tonight.” Bruce’s words teased him just an octave higher than normal. That pretty boy persona got harder and harder to slip from when he was being smug. Logan could knock his perfect teeth out right now and not feel bad.

“Changed my mind.” Logan shrugged, pocketing his cigar in for later. “Not that i had much choice” he gave the taller man a well deserved once over. The glow of the moon above mixed with the club’s neon casted the dark knight in a familiar way. It was honestly unfair that one man could look good no matter if he was pretending to be an urban legend or slumping with the first class. Now closer Logan could see that Bruce decided to wear his earrings for the first time in who knows how long. Little black studs glistened in the low light. And was he wearing eyeliner? It was smudged to an unrecognizable degree but it was there. Detailed oriented his bat was, which only solidified that he was set up from the start. Logan ran his tongue against the inside of his cheek as a poor attempted to silence himself but since when has that ever worked. Logan unconsciously leaned closer, his senses burned. “Can't have you walking around like a cheap whore, bub”

The smallest of smirks formed across Bruce’s lips as his eyes dropped to watch that vein in Logan's neck finally pop. Letting out a rare chuckle as he pulled his gaze away shaking his head. “Please, I'm anything but cheap Lo.”

His nickname felt like velvet in winter as it rattled around in the night. It was the same unoriginal name he’s had for years but it alway sounded different from him. It sounded right. If he wasn’t already so stupidly obsessed with that man next to him. Bruce would have caught him off guard just enough to shut him up.

“So you’re a rich whore?” Logan didn’t miss a beat with his comeback as they somehow got even closer.

“Why? Want one?” Bruce countered with a skilled practice. It was instinctual, the joking comment slipped from his lips like a bullet in the chamber even as the shot rang out it left a heavy weight behind.

There was a stand still then, as they stared silently at each other. The sting was pulled so thin between them it didn’t take much for the snap. This time it was Bruce’s callused hands making their way into Logan's hair pulling him into a heated kiss which pulled a deep growl from the other as thick fingers dug into the artificially perfect skin he forced himself to wear in public. Teeth clacked against each other as animal instincts kicked in. Logan took advantage of his strength and pressed that intoxicating smell into the cement wall. Not caring as the noticeable smack of what had to be Bruce’s skull hit the brick. Logan’s knee slotted between Bruce's legs pressing into his harding cock. The whine that slipped his lips was like a well deceived award for having to put up with his well planned torment all night. Reasoning thrown out the window as their bodies gilded messily across each other like horny teenagers practically devouring the other until those dangerous hands tighten in Logan’s hair pulling another growl.

“Fuck, Lo.” Bruce broke the kiss, sucking in the cool night air into his lungs felt like fire. His hips not stopping in their attempts to basically hump Logan’s thigh. His already uncomfortable attire rubbed just right against his cock. Logan wasted no time to dig his canines into his throat. Biting just hard enough to leave an imprint yet he didn’t break skin. Not now anyways.

“What, bub? Ain't this what you wanted?” Logan dragged his teeth over his neck, marking over that pale expanse of his throat. “Huh? Wearing that fucking collone like you don’t know what it dose it me.” His voice was nothing but rasp. Teetering just close enough into Logan's feral territory that Bruce couldn’t help the groan that slipped his lips. “Dressing like fucking sex on legs. Do i even want to know when you got these fucking pants?” To further push his point home Logan hands cupped a fair amount of his ass through the tight fabric. Bruce bucked his hips in retaliation. The friction makes both of them hiss.

“Fucking brat.” Logan spat, grabbing a fist full of Bruce's thin shirt to force him down to his knees. The playboy silently cures his choice in fashion when he feels just how tight his pants pressed back into him. Bruce swears he can hear the stitching against his thighs screaming for help not to mention the actual crack his knees make. He cursed under his breath as hands found Logan’s waist for stability.

His eye flicked from the bulge he was now eye level with to Logan's blown wide pupils. Bruce's hands popped off that obnoxious belt buckle Logan loved to wear with a practice ease acting like he wasn’t the one on his knees. His lips dragged over dented denim making Logan choked out a curse from above. Bruce continued to mouthed Logan through his pants until he felt a hand grab a fist full of his hair tugging a pained moan out of him. Bruce popped off the button of Logan's jeans, unzipping them and pulling him free from his flannel boxers.

Logan’s cock stood proudly now free from its confines. Its reddened head weeped pre-cum from the slit. Bruce smirked, wanting to say something snarky only to look up to meet pleading brown eyes. Okay so maybe he was being too much of an ass all night. Though this was hardly the worst he could have done, still Bruce took the hint and took pity on him. His hand slowly wrapped around the thick base of Logan's cock giving him a couple good strokes. Nuzzling into his hip as he used the leverage to keep Logan from bucking into his hand as he stroked him dry. Not breaking eye contact as Logan's eyes rolled back into his head briefly just from such a touch. The friction makes Logan's head spin just enough to not to complain.

“My poor darling.” Bruce cooed as he pressed a few kisses at the base. Bruce shifted on his knee to straddle Logan's boot so that he could please his own needs.grounding his hips down against worn leather as he nipped at that prominent vein down Logan’s hip, up the underside of his cock.

“Shut up” Logan spat out when Bruce”s tongue flicked the head of his cock before trailing back down the underside only for his hand to replace his mouth again. His hand retreated from Bruce’s hair as his claws fought to make an early appearance.

“Make me” echoed in Logan's ears as his eyes opened in surprise. He stared down at the smuggest person he’ed ever seen on their knees. Logan tried to memorize this exact moment in his very shitty memory. Bruce Wayne on his knees in an open alley, looking at him like a kid during christmas while he stroked his dick actively taunting him. No. Asking him to let go. If Logan believed in a god he'd probably be thanking him right about now.

As Logan's brian took its time to process his request Bruce took no time to wrap his lips around his throbbing cock not stopping into his nose brushed against that tufted of hair against the base. Everything about Logan was thick. His skin, his skull, his fingers but most importantly his dick as it took up most of his mouth. Bruce used his breathing skills to good use not to gag when Logan seemed to finally get the idea bucking into his throat suddenly. Logan’s hand curled back into Bruce’s hair pulling him somehow farther down his cock so he could fuck into the wet heat of his mouth.

“So good baby.” Logan muttered his praises through his teeth.

“Good fucking boy.”

Bruce’s hands dropped to finally free himself from his own pants. Moaning around Logan as he stroked himself to the same hard rhythm that was set in his throat. It didn’t take long for either of them to get close to the breaking point.

“You gonna take it baby? Huh? Be my good fucking boy and take everything i give you?” Bruce was too far lost as he moaned out his agreement. Trying to nod around Logan's brutal trust of his hips into his mouth. “Here it comes baby, here it comes.”

An inhuman noise escapes his lips as Logan’s hips halt suddenly making sure to pull Bruce all the way down around him as he releases down his throat. Bruce followed close behind, spilling out of his fist onto the ground and Logan's boot below. The two of them just stay there for a moment before Bruce finally frees himself with a cough. His lungs felt like they were on fire as he breathed in lungs full of cold air.

“Shit, you okay?” Logan tucked himself back into his pants before kneeling down to Bruce's level.

Bruce nodded between coughs waving it off. “I’m fine. Just forgot to breathe for a second.”

Logan shook his head gently pushing Bruce's now actually messy hair from his face. His eyes now soft and concerned as he gave Bruce a good once over just in case knowing Bruce isn’t one to complain about pain.

“Come here.” Logan muttered pulling Bruce gently into a soft kiss which was pleasantly returned without hesitation. The taste of himself on Bruce's lips didn’t go unmissed.

“You are the worst”

“You love me for it.” Bruce chuckled cupping his jaw, running his thumb across his cheek before pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, I do.” Logan got back to his feet giving Bruce a hand up as they both fixed themselves to be less disheveled. Logan takes another shameless look over Bruce hooking his fingers into one of his belt loops pulling him closer. His voice dropped an octave giving him a weak glare.

“Seriously though, were these fucking pants come from.”

“My first year of college. ” Bruce gave him a little pose looking down at his somehow still intact pants. “I didn’t make it through pre-med but I did party like I was. Honesty impressed they still fit.”

Logan hummed letting him go. “oh, they fit alright.”

Bruce gave him a slap to his arm which Logan overreacted to making Bruce crack a smile. Logan threw an arm over Bruce’s shoulder pulling him down to his height. “Wanna drink? I still have a tab open.”

“You just want me to cover the bill.” Bruce rolled his eyes leaving his grasp to pull open the metal door letting out the loud music spill out into the quiet night for the two of them.

“Promise to repay you when we get home.” Logan smirked, slapping Bruce on the ass as he headed back into the noisy club. Bruce, not too far behind, shakes his head amused as they find two empty seats at the bar.

“Yeah, yeah.”

[rileys-battlecats]

👀 Wrentail was thw clan’s best storyteller?? What kind of stories did he tell? Could you mayhaps give us a little example? I mean I don’t expect you to have thought about the specific stories he told much but you got my curiosity so if possible I will take anything you’re willing to tell about this topic

I don't fully remember where the idea came from, but yeah I wanted Wrentail to actually have some kind of hobby outside of child abuse and rabid xenophobia HAHA, so with his special talent of Lying I figured he would've also been a good storyteller. Good at capturing imaginations, setting the mood through turns of phrase and gestures, and with a good sense for pacing in his story-telling. The stories told would vary, but they would probably range from personal anecdotes, to clan history, to folklore.

I imagine Micaclan as having a pretty rich folklore, with stories that impart lessons to their young members; practical lessons, but also moral lessons at the same time.

As for an example of a story Wrentail might tell, I was inspired to write a little snippet as an example!! I'm not a writer so this might be a lil clunky but I hope you enjoy anyway :P I'm putting it under a cut cause it got long haha

After a long day of training and hunting, Micaclan's apprentices and mentors gather close to discuss what they learned. Whitepaw shuffles nervously; he'd been so caught up in chasing a mouse, earlier, that he'd nearly careened off the edge of a cliff in his mad dash. Robinsong shakes her head at her apprentice, quietly disappointed and concerned.

She says, "You should know better than to chase so intently after prey like that—you weren't even looking at where you were going! Too focused on your prize. Haven't you heard the story of Pecanpaw's Tree?"

Hawkpaw snickers at the reminder of Whitepaw's earlier stunt, only to be quickly silenced as Puddlepaw's shoulder jabs into her side.

Whitepaw avoids looking at his mentor, and keeps his gaze fixed on his paws as he shakes his head, "No, I don't think so."

"Well, it's very applicable here. And that goes for all of you," Robinsong turns to look at the other gathered apprentices, "Hawkpaw, Puddlepaw, Mudpaw—This is an important story, an important lesson. Listen closely." Her eyes turn skyward, in apparent thought.

"Let's see... how does it start?"

Wrentail, beside Robinsong, lifts his head and touches the tip of his tail to her flank. She glances at her brother, before smiling and nodding. He straightens his posture, and begins speaking in a storyteller's lilt:

"It happened one day that a young apprentice, Pecanpaw, was readying for their assessment. The newleaf air was crisp and fresh, morning dew still clinging to the tender shoots of grass reaching up through the earth, and the pine needles under their paws were springy and soft, perfectly suited to cover the sound of their pawsteps as they hunted. All was calm, and the cool breeze carried with it the promise of abundant prey.

"Following the scent, they found their way to the base of a towering hemlock tree, so tall that the branches scraped the undersides of the clouds. And at its base, rummaging amongst the roots, was a squirrel. Not just any squirrel, either; from nose to tail tip, it was large enough to reach from the tip of their paw all the way to their shoulder. If they caught a piece of prey of that size, they would surely pass their assessment with no issue.

"Pecanpaw dropped into a hunter's crouch, and locked their eyes onto their quarry. With soundless pawsteps, they drew closer and closer to the squirrel. The air went still. With only the sound of their own heartbeat roaring in their ears, Pecanpaw readied themselves to leap—and then the wind changed. A gust coming from behind them alerted the squirrel to their scent, and it darted up the tree.

"Frustration tore through Pecanpaw, and they leapt up after their prize. Claws digging into the rough bark of the old hemlock, they kept their eyes locked onto the squirrel ahead of them. Up to the first branch, the second, the third—up and up and up. Always remaining just out of reach, the squirrel practically taunted Pecanpaw and their mission.

"With paws aching from exertion, they clawed their way higher. Before they knew it, the branches beneath them were willowy and thin, bending beneath their weight. Yet the squirrel continued to climb, and thus, so did Pecanpaw. They clung to the trunk of the old hemlock, continuing higher, higher, ever higher. Soon, there would be nowhere left for the squirrel to climb, and then Pecanpaw would have their prize.

"Finally, the end was in sight; only the thinnest of branches were left, and there was no further the squirrel could climb to. Pecanpaw, only a tail length away, could see the bristles of the squirrel's fluffy tail, see the twitch of its nose, its wide, glistening dark eyes. They could see it bunch its muscles, see it tuck into a crouch, and leap with reckless abandon to the waiting branches of the surrounding trees, hundreds of tail lengths below."

Wrentail pauses, taking the time to look at each of the apprentices in turn, before continuing.

"And as soon as their prize left their line of sight, Pecanpaw looked around them, and saw nothing but the tops of trees, felt nothing but the howling wind, smelled nothing but the cold moisture of the clouds. Their prey had been the only thing worth focusing on, they'd thought. Their prey had been the only thing they had focused on. But now, with the squirrel long gone, escaped into the branches below, they saw what they should have seen from the beginning. That the old hemlock tree reached into the sky itself, and that its branches were easy to climb up, but nearly impossible to climb down."

The apprentices wait with bated breath, eager to hear the rest. But Wrentail is already unwinding from the more formal storyteller's pose, lifting a paw to wash his face.

The tip of Hawkpaw's tail flicks from side to side, "So? What happened after that? How did Pecanpaw get down?"

Gullytuft, silent up until now, meows, "How do you think?"

A beat of silence.

"...They fell," Puddlepaw concludes, "They couldn't climb down. They were too focused on their prey and didn't pay attention to their surroundings, didn't stop to think. That's why it's a lesson, right? You're supposed to think about Pecanpaw before you start being reckless and chasing after prey without thinking. Or you might get hurt, like Whitepaw almost did."

"Spot on, Puddlepaw," Sandleap meows.

They preen a little at their mentor's praise, but sober quickly. Pecanpaw's Tree isn't a fun story, not when it feels so real. Any of the apprentices could've been Pecanpaw today. They promise their mentors that they will think before acting rashly.

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

Omg I saw that you were taking requests- how do you feel about me requesting yandere platonic Malice Link but specifically Fae!Hyrule. I imagine it would take place or at least their first encounter would be in a forest. Since it’s Malice!Link there would probably be at least some hostility at first with the reader walking a tight rope of emotions. But it basically evolves from that to subtle manipulation not even realizing it’s gone from 0-100 with hostility turned into possessiveness.

Order up!

Love this request so much oh my gods!! Hope you enjoy it~

Tw: Yandere, mentioned murder

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

The forests here were quiet— and dead. It’s the best way to explain it, but to some extent one would inevitably lead you to assume another. The forest was hauntingly absent of the chitter from its animals and the wind was dead from the sky— it naturally leads one to assume that there is no life within the woods. It would’ve turned most away from making their way through the thorn bushels and further into the forest itself. Or, rather, it should’ve turned you away, you should’ve known better. Bad things happen to the people that go into these woods. But alas, the sun was high and the morning was fresh and some old maidens tale about silly fairies wasn’t going to keep you from some wild berry pie.

There was someone new in his woods. Hyrule had really thought people had learned their lessons by now. Usually the glowing red pools of malice and gloom would steer them off course far enough to walk right back into their own village. The sharp-toothed mouths in the trees drive fear into the heart of any hunter and the sensation of the yellowed eyes watching make any animal prey. And yet, the new animal sauntered through his woods, basket looped around their elbow. Their blood was untainted, it rushed through them beat by beat, the sound filling his ears. They drove his senses haywire, leaving behind a trail that he felt compelled to follow.

The bushes were full of freshly ripened berries, their skins a vibrant glossy mauve. Your basket was filled when you turned to see a person, standing wide eyed behind you. He looked pale, cheeks slightly sunken, light brown hair tousled and with a stare so intent, you felt as if you should’ve expected him to have said something. And yet he stared with unblinking hazel-blue eyes, a single fang pushing over his lip.

“Are you alright?” You could’ve smacked yourself right then. Sneaking into a supposedly haunted forest and seeing a man stare at you, and your first words are ‘are you alright’?

“No” He clutches his sides slowly, sharp nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. With no other real idea of what to do, you hold out your basket of berries —which also included some honey to preserve a few of the berries in— to which he looks inside cautiously. You get a closer look at him and see the freckles dotting his cheeks and the fact he looks dangerously thin. Your eyes catch on a violently red looking scar lining his chest, but when you shift to get a closer look, he darts back. You open your mouth to say something, and yet he’s already back within the woods.

He hated himself. Hyrule doesn’t really recall if he did before, but he most certainly does now. As it turned out, the new person prancing through his forest was not a hunter like the hundreds of others since. You did not come with iron chains and steel blades with the hopes of his death bringing honor to your name. No. You were the closest thing to acceptance he’s had in a long while. Maybe you were a fool. Maybe you were meant to s- He wasn’t meant to be saved. He cut the thought short. He was cursed now, baneful hatred blotting out his mind until he’s not sure what’s him and what’s it. He’d slaughtered the many men that came through his lands like they were no more than mice or minish. It was easy. And yet, as your hand shifted slightly while holding a basket, he bolted like he was the mouse —prey hiding from their death. It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t supposed to crave to be liked. He was supposed to be hated— to be feared. It’s what kept him alive for so long. It makes no rhyme nor reason that you’d care for a cursed creature such as himself. Even if the malice didn’t rip at his skin to make scars and it didn’t taint what was once good and kind into gloomy and miserable, He still couldn’t be loved by you. He was fae. His kind was supposed to trick foolish humans and toy away with their lives. He was supposed to bend his words so you’d agree to a promise sealing your fate to some comical story book ending where he gains the upper hand. And yet, he found himself mulling over the curiosities in your eyes, the purse of your lips, the thump of your heart. All things that —down to his very anatomy— he was supposed to hate. And yet he could not bring himself to. Whatever fleshy scraps were left of his heart were reaching through the cracks in his ribs toward you. He hated it. He hated the way his heart raced when hearing your familiar father-light steps. He hated the way he bore a sharp toothy grin upon seeing your return. Those teeth were meant to cut and kill, not simply be means to an expression. He hated that the honey you left him, infused with wild berries, was so sweet. He hated it was an appeasing offering to him. Maybe to some sense you were a hunter. And what an odd hunter you were to aim for his heart in such a manner.

And yet you persisted. Weekly or so you made a good habit to leave some food for the frail man you saw. You’re not sure why exactly you felt inclined to do so. Guilt, perhaps, he looked rather shaken by you shifting slightly, the last you could do was provide him with some good meals. There wasn’t any good food aside from the plants in the forest anyway, and that wouldn’t keep someone as frail as him alive. You saw more of him. It was slow, a hand taking the food a few minutes after you set it down, a cautious look shared before he scurried away. He’d come out of whatever tree or bush he’d been hiding in before claiming whatever prize you got. And eventually he’d even sit with you as he ate. You were slow, always keeping the same distance and dropping off the food at the same bush you met him. You learned the reason why the old wives of your village told you to stay away from the forest for what may be within. There was evil within the marred roots of every sickly tree and the man in front of you, while not really a man, was sick. And yet like any sick thing the world told you to ignore, he proved he was worth saving. He gathered his own little silly silver gifts to give and kept you safe while you foraged through the night. When you ran out of ear space for the little hoops he gave you rings, all in your size and he didn’t question why you came running, clothes in hand with a mob behind you. Instead he protected you, cradling your shaking body.

His eyes, glinting yellow, bore into the crowd which chased his love right to him. It was quite a strain, he’d admit. First whispering to the weavers, spinning stories of how you’d betrayed your better judgment and was lured into the woods. To them you were cursed just as he was, and so, you were exiled to much the same fate. But you needn’t worry, you mustn’t. He knows which herbs and incantations lessen the malice’s bite. You’ll be safe here with him. Maybe not happy for a while, but it’s not like you have another option aside from him. With rings on your finger and matching curse bound in blood, he dragged you to the little den he’d prepared for him and his spouse. Not quite the storybook ending.

[olivia091108]

How to be a jackass:part 1

Summary:meeting bam and Ryan in westchester

Word count:3306

So far filming for season two of jackass has probably been the best time I’ve ever had even though I’m getting injured or pranked every day.

All the guys are great and at first I thought it’s gonna be awkward not only being the new person but being the only girl.Thank god I was wrong for once I don’t think any of them actually cared as long as I actually did gnarly stunts.

The only people I haven’t met are the boys from westchester but Jeff says that we’re gonna film a group stunt with all of us soon.

I’ve done some mediocre stunts like pouting glitter in my eye which didn’t come out for a week and licking a mouse trap Owch. I also did one with wee man where he dressed as a baby and put in a pram and when people would ask to see ‘my baby’ they would be kinda disturbed.

Today I walk on to set and check the stunt list. Today I’m gonna get a pregnant belly strapped to me and walk around town drinking some beer.

——————————————————

Time skip

After getting a mean old lady shouting at me for ‘destroying my baby’ Jeff called all of us over and told us that at 5:30am to meet here because we’re driving to westchester tomorrow.Jeff actually banned us from going out after like we usually would do we finished for the day and I got the bus back to mine and my sisters apartment

Don’t get me wrong I’m excited but really 5:30 I’m sure there’s no harm in waking up later. I walk into the apartment and go to my room to pack since we will be staying there for 5 days.

I walk into my room and start packing stuff but I can’t find one of my favourite tops so I walk into Ella’s room to see if she’s taken it and I barge in without knocking to see her and Oliver mud sex scrambling to cover themselves with the sheet.

“Get out!”

“In a sec do you have my blue top the one with the buttons”

“Are you serio-“ I sigh and lean against the wall and she knows I won’t leave until she gives it to me. “It’s in my closet” I walk over and grab it off the hanger and scrunch it up in my hands

“Oh yeah by the way I’m gonna be gone for a few day”

“Leave!” She throws a pillow at me but I dick out the room before it can hit me

An hour later ella and Oliver knock on my door and wait for me to reply before walking in with very serious looks on both their faces.

Y/n we need to talk to you about something. You can’t just walk in without knocking we don’t have any privacy with you.

Alright I’ll knock next time

“It’s not just the knocking you always come home late and wreck the houses remember you broke olis computer at like 5:30 you never clean up after yourself and we just think that you should move back with mum and dad because we can’t keep living with you.”

“What your kicking me out I pay rent here”

“You don’t even pay a quarter y/n your’e basically living here for free.I rang dad he said it was fine you moving back soon”

“You know I can’t do that el”

“You could always get your’e own place I could help you have the money know”

“Fuck you. you know what I’ll leave right now.” I grab all my clothes in my wardrobe and try to shove it into my small suitcase and mange to mostly zip it and I grab a few personal thing and hold my piggy bank under my arm before leaving

It might’ve been a irrational idea because now I have nowhere to stay for the night and I can’t go to my parents not how I left there

It’s 1am I might as well go to set and wait till morning but with busses not running I have to walk 5 miles uptown.

Once I get there I only have to wait 2 and a half hours so I set my suitcase down and use it as a seat I dig around in my pocket for the taser I took from Johnny just in case.

I feel a hand grab me and by instinct Tase whoever it was. By the time my eyes have adjusted I realise I must’ve fallen asleep and everyone’s here to go to westchester.

While Jeff is complaining the taser Dave asks if I’ve been here all night. Nah I just thought I should get here early yknow only been here half hour.

We separate into 3 cars to get there and I’m in with Johnny Dave and wee man. I’m in the back with Dave and decide to use the 6 hour car drive as an opportunity for some sleep since I got 2 hours max last night.

—————————————————-

I wake up not being able to breathe and feeling plastic on my face I try and pry one of my friends hands off of me but it’s no use and I have to rip the plastic bag now being able to breathe properly

I hear Knoxville’s laugh and a Camrea is pointed in my face all that adrenaline woke me up quick but I’m still not wide awake and I just flip him off while sitting up and stretching being confined in a car really isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.

“Cmon y/n we’re here grab your bags.” I take my almost bursting suitcase and walk it into the large house we will be staying at. I hear taking and follow it to the living room seeing Johnny talking to the two boys I recognise from episodes but still haven’t met.

Jeff introduces them the one with the dark hair and blue eyes is bam and the blonde one with a beard is called Ryan. We all introduce ourselves and start chatting and getting to know eatch other. Another girl is here called Jenn she’s bams girlfriend she seems nice but I haven’t spoken to her much

I excuse myself to the bathroom and i see a blonde lady in the kitchen and ask her if she needs a hand. If you don’t mind that would be great

“I’m April bams mum it’s so nice to have you all hear but I am a bit worried honestly”

“Im y/n thanks for letting us stay and I promise I will try to protect you and your house.”

Me and April talk about all kinds of things and I soon meet her husband Phil who is such a sweetheart and it makes me feel even worse for him seeing how bam treats him.

I’m sorry your supposed to be getting to know eatchother and I’ve stolen you away thanks for your help with the dinner.

“Oh it’s no worries you seem wayy more interesting than them boys.”

Speaking of Chris has snuck up behind me and lifted me up and body slammed me onto one of the sofas it wouldn’t of hurt that bad if people weren’t sitting on it.

I sit up and move off of whoever I fell on and jsut laugh it off and I start talking to Ryan about some of his stunts and his life and what not. While telling me about cky videos and high school with his friends bam started to join in adding to the story.

After an hour of talking to the two of them we got along really well and had quite a few things in common with them. We got called for dinner and while I was eating I could feel myself drifting off even though I slept in the car for 6 hours.

I ended up face planting into the food which made everyone laugh and while I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe it off the topic of rooms came up.

Some people were gonna have to share because there’s not enough rooms Steve o and pontius are sharing as well as Dave and ehren. Johnny is with me and wee man and Preston are together.

We all go to our rooms and get unpacked and settled. “Yknow we’re only here for 5 days don’t you”.

“Can’t a girl have options” i didn’t want to tell Johnny about getting kicked out I just wanted to have fun here. While I get changed into my pjamas I get into bed and shut my eyes trying to fall asleep but either from the excitement of tomorrow or because I napped today I couldn’t.

I looked at the clock and it was 12:34 Knoxville was asleep by now I could tell by his heavy breathing. I decided to go downstairs and have some water so I snuck out of my room and when I got downstairs I see Jenn down their about to leave

“How come you aren’t staying?”

“Bams just being a bit of a dick right now but I’ll see you in a couple days bye”

I sit in the kitchen having some water and once I’ve finished I still don’t feel like sleeping so I decide to look around. As best as you can in the dark. I quietly open the front door and step into the garden it had a skate ramp and a swimming pool in it. I went to go back inside but the door is locked I’m not gonna ring the doorbell or id wake everyone up.

I walk round the back and I see a window open so I jump from the ramp to the roof and pull myself up I walk along to reach the window but I see something move next to me. It’s a squirrel. Shit I’m fucking terrified of them they’re Satan reincarnated.

“Oh my god oh my god stop”I try to move as quick as I can to the window and quickly climb in to the room and close the window quietly while repeating those words.

“Jenn I told you to go away”bam room shit. I don’t answer and attempt to just get out of the room but I step on something and it slips out from under me and I fall onto the bed.

“Shit sorry.” Bam leans over and turns his bedside lamp on and rub his eyes. “What are you doing”

“I got locked out of the house then I had to climb threw your’e window to get away from the squirrel like I said sorry and night.”

“Are you on something” bam asks not believing me. I pull a confused face not knowing why he would be confused. “ why were you running from a squirrel?”

“Cos they’re fucking scary haven’t you seen Charlie and the chocolate factory?” At my distress yknow way he does. Laugh.I soon join in and we’re just sat they’re laughing together in His room.

Once the laughing stops he breaks the silence. “How did you even get up here?”bam asks thinking back on my story “I jumped off your ramp.you any good at skating”

“Yeah pretty good you?”

“Stepped foot on one once and fell onto someone’s bed. It seems pretty cool other than that though”

“I could teach you sometime.”

“I’ll hold you to that bam” me and bam speak about anything and everything with me now sitting above his covers on his bed and we switched the lamp off.

He tells me all about his family and when he asks about mine something in the room shifts it’s awkward.

Well I actually left home when I was 16 because me and my mum never got along she always preferred my sister i always hung out with my dad but I didn’t have many friends but these girls invited me to hangout with them and I snuck out an we went to some abandoned school and we would go there smoke some weed and whatever and once we were spray painting and the police turned up my friends ran and a policeman got me and I kicked him in the balls and they took me to jail and when my mum got that call she went crazy she said she was so disappointed in what I’ve become and that she won’t bail me out because she didn’t actually want me to come home. My dad eventually came in and took me home but I got there and my room was all boxed up and she kicked me out and said she didn’t want to see me again so I moved in with my sister.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t know”

“Yeah well how could you I don’t tell anybody so I’m could u try not to mention that”

“Pinky promise”we interlock pinkies and I kiss my hand and he copies.the conversation moves on and soon enough we’re shushing the other to stop Laughing until I notice the clock and see that it’s 2:12 and I can tell bams tired and I am as well.

“Wait y/n it was cool talking to you and if you need to talk I’m always here.” I grab a pillow an throw it at hand face. Don’t get all sappy now bam I thought you were supposed to be a cool skater boy.

I leave and head back to my room and wriggle into bed having to shove Johnny over a bit and for a second I lay there thinking about bam and how much I trusted him I wonder what tomorrow will be like before I know it I’m out like a light.

This one was acc really long

Omg guys I’m so pissed I wrote this like a week ago but I didn’t press save and I LOST RVEYTHUNG the first one was way better

Requests always open

-liv

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 27

muzzled | "I have no mouth and I must scream" / Afternoon Stroll

Yuu had their hands shoved into their pockets as they tried to enjoy the scenery.

As far as times they could have gone walking, this trail near their house wasn't the worst choice, but it could have either been better-stocked or less overgrown.

The nice, afternoon stroll was a routine for Yuu at this point, but the cold air made it a far less comfortable experience nowadays.

They had to really watch to make sure their legs didn't get caught up in all of the randomness of the forest, and they were doing just that when they heard a cry.

It... almost sounded like a baby, but Yuu stood still and heard for another cry before they moved.

The cry could have been some sort of imitation ghost, mimicking the cry of a child to lure Yuu to their death, but they stumbled across a little metal cage and ruled out that possibility.

It seemed to be a small lizard scurrying around a little metal wire cage in panic, the fear evident in the frenetic, jerky movements the salamander made.

"Oh no," said Yuu, crouching down to see if there was something they could do. They supposed it wasn't technically poaching, since reptiles weren't regulated under any hunting laws.

Digging around in their bag, Yuu found some scissors.

Possibly a good idea, but only until later. Cutting through metal with scissors would be hard, and it was better to see if they'd thought to bring a bolt cutter or something before they made a fool of themselves.

The lizard scurried wildly, and Yuu finally wrapped their hands around the smaller bolt cutter they usually kept in their field bag.

"It'll be ok, little guy," mumbled Yuu, hoping the vibrations in their voice would help the lizard calm down. No one deserved to be kept in a cage like this, and if it was almost the end of hunting season, there had to be more.

Still, Yuu shook off the worry and started attacking the bars with a fierce gusto until they finally got into a good groove, making more and more progress with each pass of their mini tool.

"Shhh, c'mon," said Yuu, allowing the mouse to feel their nearly-nonexistent body heat through the floor of the grass bottle. "if you keep moving like that, I won't get a clear shot.

The little lizard chirped and whistled unhappily, and Yuu assured him they were working as hard they could.

Finally, Yuu was able to break off some of the cage, and the lizard seemed to be a bit calmer as Yuu grabbed a dead man's shoes.

The lizard scurried out,, chirping quite happily to Yuu trapped the salamander in their hands.

"Shhh, shhh," Yuu was trying to calm down the little salamander, who seemed to have gotten a little better. He did frantic loops chasing his tail on one of Yuu's porches.

"It's alright," they said in a soothing voice, or at least they hoped. "You can freak out, but eventually I'm gonna take you back to my house."

The lizard didn't stop his freaking out, but Yuu said, "You'll be nice and warm, and I'll give you all the food you want."

With a flourish, Yuu gave the lizard a quick kiss. Probably not the best idea, because Yuu didn't know where the lizard had been, but just then, light began showing through the cracks of the reptile.

The lizard began to float, and Yuu ducked their head, trying to protect themselves. .Suddenly, it all burst open in a cacophony of light and sound, before the reptile morphed into a man.

This man was tall, long and slender with a fancy set of clothes complete with embroidery, and as his eyes focused, he looked at Yuu.

"Hello," he said in a low timbre.

"Uhhh... hello?" stammered Yuu, nervous of what this all meant

"You saved he," he said, rising from the forest floor to eliminate the ability to make effective eye contact.

"You saved me," he breathed, looking down at his clothes and limbs in amazement. "Thank you."

He them scooped up Yuu and they yelped before the salamander spoke up.

"I do not mean to harm you, I just wish to give you my thanks."

"U-uh, ok?" said Yuu, still short-circuiting.

"And to take you home, perhaps for a meal... yes, a meal would do," he said, almost whispering the words.

"Thank you," said Yuu, barely able to put any voice behind their words.

"Of course. I am at your service," he said, bowing his head.

"Um, alright? I can't think of anything that I need," said Yuu.

"That is alright," he responded. "But, do you have a home? Perhaps we can have soup for lunch.

Next to Yuu, a stomach growled.

"Yes," mused the man. "Perhaps we'll have soup."

"What's your name?" said Yuu, sounding squeaky.

The man gazed down at them lovingly.

"I am Malleus," he said simply. "Now, could you tell me what direction your house is?"

Yuu chuckled. "Sure. Down there, you'll take a right in a bit, but I have a few questions before that."

[entomolog-t]

Bite Me - Chapter 3

Not so fun conversation topics for two total strangers; Can June put two and two together?

We have officially passed the og comic so this is all uncharted water (though I would love to draw this out eventually!)

Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13

- - - -

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Word count: 1116

CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Dehumanization

Aedes stared up at the looming woman before him, her apology- no- her admission hanging heavy in the air. Her answer hit him like ice; both chilling him to the bone and freezing him in place. She admitted it. He was trapped, the weight of her admission holding him in place... and yet there he stood, cornered, but still free from her grasp. 

"Then what?" He growls. The sound of his own voice grates on him; for all the raw anger in his voice, he hates that he can still hear his own desperation slipping through. 

" I.. I don't know.” She bit her lip. His skin bristled at the sight of the woman's teeth. He watches as she grows uncomfortable. Good. “It's not like I planned what to do…” 

He snorted. She didn't even know what she wanted to do with him? Catching for the sake of what?? Just wanting?? Was he that fucking insignificant? Was this some sort of sick fun? Just a game of cat and mouse? She couldn't even just be bothered to reach out and grab him- instead just prolonging the inevitable. His hands shook, claws digging into the meat of his palms as he clenched his fists. Her nonchalant attitude fed into his growing nausea. He could feel the blood he'd so recently drank rising up in his throat. Her answers terrified him. 

"And if you catch me," despite being cornered, he made sure to emphasize the word if, "would you ever let me go?"

Genuine shock seemed to dash across her features at his words. Her expression softened, as did her voice,

"O-Of course!" It was strange. She sounded… almost remorseful. "Look, I'm not…I'm sorry, I'm not trying to hold you hostage- like that’s obviously wrong- it's just… this is weird, okay? You're in my house- my bed!” 

It takes all of his willpower and probably some years off of his life to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. If you know it's wrong, why apologize ?? Just stop!?   He grits his teeth. If she didn't care enough not to hold him prisoner in this stupid corner then why would she care enough to let him go?

“Of course?” He didn’t believe her, but he played along, counting his blessings that he remained out of her grasp for now,  "So… if I let you quell your curiosity," He says, unable to keep the snide tone from his voice, "would I no longer be your hostage? Would you let me go?" 

"I admit, that wasn't really the best wording-"

"Would you?" His voice, though fearful, is firm. 

To his shock, she seems to shrink back at his tone. She nods. 

"I… I'd just like answers…" She states quietly, her voice nearly a whisper. He narrows his eyes. Fuck. What was he supposed to say?? The moment she puts two and two together she’ll- He shook his head, frustrated. He needed a plan. An idea. Anything. His chest tightened as his mind spun. What was he supposed to do? Why did he have to tell her anything in the first place? Did she just expect him to act like a dog and sit and speak on command? The thought grated against his pride. He grit his teeth. She’d already told him to stay. 

“And what?” He spits, “I’m just supposed to talk because you tell me "speak" ? Am I a pet or a person to you??" He winces at the bitter venom he tastes in his words. She holds all the cards. He shouldn’t outright try to provoke her, but his mind is spinning in desperation. What was he supposed to say?? She wanted answers he desperately did not want to give. The thought sends a shiver down his spin. Yet, to his surprise, his words didn't seem to anger her. He watched as she looked away- for a moment he was almost tempted to run, but surprise had him glued in place. She looked conflicted- or ashamed? He swallowed dryly, heart pounding in his chest Did she actually… could she actually see him as a person? After a long pause, she spoke.

"A person... I think?" His brief sense of hope seems to decay in his grasp- a sickening feeling of foreboding taking its place.   

"You think?”  He yells, voice growing louder with each syllable, "How can you not know?? Am I, or am I not a person to you!?” As he spat the question at her as he struggled to hold her gaze, his heart begging for her to see him… To his dismay, instead he saw himself; Reflected by the dim light from the moonlit window he saw his reflection in those too large fern green eyes. The sight disgusted him; A scared and pitiful creature trapped in the stare of being that was just so much… more. As much as he hated it, he refused to look away. However, she did. 

"I- " she pauses, her gaze turning back to him- eyes pleading… for what?? Why did she look like she was pleading to him??  "I don't know. I mean, I know you're not a… pet. You're a talking, thinking being." 

Oh?

Maybe there was hope… maybe she truly could see him…

"-but,"

Ah. There it was.

"I’m going to be honest… This feels different. I wouldn't contemplate catching a person... or you know, force them into a conversation with me. I-” She bites her lip, struggling to pick her words. “I don't want to lie to you. I promise you, I don’t see you as a pet, but honestly" She swallowed, seeming almost.. nervous? "I don't really see you as a person either."

Of course she didn't. What else did he expect? He wasn't a person to her- but then again, he wasn't a person at all. He wasn’t human- he was a parasite. The word tasted like poison on his tongue. He knew what he was, but if not a person or something to be had, what was he to her? Why was he still cornered? 

“Then what am I?” He hears an angry desperation in his voice he hadn't known was there. Had she figured it out? If not a person or a pet, did she know he was a pest?  She starts to answer and abruptly stops, reconsidering. After a moment, she continues;

"You tell me. What are you?"

He wanted to lie. To say he was nothing more than a man, just… a small one, but she had caught him in the act. How could he explain away… feeding. He grimaced. Why did it matter what he was? He was a thinking, speaking being-  just the same as her! 

“My name,” he sneered, “is Aedes.”

[dddevilsadvocate]

1. and now I’m covered in you

Leviathan x gn!AFAB!reader

a/n: here it is folks! the first chapter of the longest fic I’ve ever written. literally. 12 pages and counting. after the overwhelmingly horny positive reception on this post, I decided to split what I currently have into instalments and release them periodically as I edit them. there is no schedule lol I have ADHD and am also very not good at this 🥲

THIS IS VERY NSFW MINORS GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE

CW: self-indulgent smut (unprotected vaginal sex, dry humping, fingering), loss of virginity

midnight had struck well over 2 hours ago. RAD’s 8am start crept closer and closer, like a cat upon a mouse. like a threat. and though you were in bed, covered in blankets and surrounded by pillows, basking in the warmth of the body pressed against you, sleep could not reach you. there was no room for it.

the third eldest’s allocated “you” time - an entire 24 hours with you all to himself! - had started right as the new day did. at 0:03, you’d snuck into his room, where he’d been waiting like a lovesick puppy to show you what he’d done. he’d chosen a great movie for you two to watch; some niche title from his surprisingly robust comedic horror collection, apparently a Devildom cult classic. he’d even gone through all the trouble to have it projected onto his ceiling so you could easily see it from the comfort of his bed - which he’d rearranged into the perfect cuddle nook. snacks he’d fought to keep safe from Beel were laid out like a buffet. the lights of his tank were set to your favourite colour, casting a hazy glow over the space. 

everything had started innocently enough. you’d pressed your lips to his cheek, complimenting his efforts. he’d rushed to start the movie and practically dove into his tub, finally able to wrap his arms around you and rest his head atop yours. his chest rose and fell against you as he laughed at every slapstick gag, mandarin eyes sparkling when he realised you were laughing too. you don’t quite remember how he’d ended up under you, with his hands on your waist and your tongue between his lips, but you weren’t going to complain.

Levi had always been cautious of intimacy. he rarely went further than where he was with you right now, and even such familiar territory made him nervous. you feel the heat of the blush on his face as if you’re leaning over a fire. your kisses are sloppy, and his are desperate. his hands don’t dare stray from their places above your hips, but the lust he’s holding them back from sparks from his fingertips. he wants to let them roam. he wants to let then roam more than anyth-

CCCRRRAAASSSHHH

a sudden, violent rise in the movie’s volume comes like a bomb over your senses. you push yourself up from the demon, a scream tearing from your throat. Levi is just as startled; his eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them as they study the room for the threat.

“AAAH WHAT THE HELL WAS TH- oh. th-the movie.” groaning, his head falls back against the pillow. “I completely forgot about that part… and that it was still playing…”

though your heart continues to pound against your sternum, you giggle. “my god.” running your fingers through his fringe brings his attention back to you. “we should probably turn that off and get some sleep now.”

you reach for the projector’s remote and click it off. but as you go to slide off the demon, his fingers suddenly dig into you. your shirt separates his skin from yours, but you swear you can feel the ridges of his fingerprints. his grip is somehow full of panic, like he’s worried you’ll float away. “w-wait! wait. can… c-can we keep going?”

you smile. you can survive tomorrow’s classes with no sleep if it comes to that. and if you’re honest with yourself, sleeping wouldn’t be nearly as fun as continuing. “of course we-”

“can we go further? maybe?” despite threatening to, Levi’s voice does not waver. his eyes - golden and indigo like the most vibrant of sunsets - dart between yours from beneath furrowed brows. 

the shock of the question does not strike you as hard as his confidence does. your relationship with Levi had never been consummated in the traditional sense, but he wasn’t a stranger to the concept. the rock of your hips always left him a babbling mess. your hands brought him such pleasure he only lasted a minute the first time. and your mouth? god, it was like he was addicted. you’d never heard him - or anyone, for that matter - make such noise while actively trying not to. and yet, as much as he enjoyed the acts as they were happening, asking for them activated his fight or flight. red-cheeked and stuttering, until you saved him with your overwhelming perfection.

you figured he’d get to this question at some point, but you never thought he’d ask it in one smooth go.

“you… want to go further?” you arch an eyebrow. “how much further?”

Levi’s gaze darts to the door. you made sure to lock it behind you at his request, but now he seems worried a brotherly ear or two might be pressed against the other side. he stares for a moment before glancing back at you, unable to meet your eyes this time. he studies your lips, your chest, your shoulders, before his voice drops to a whisper: “a-all the way?”

you open your mouth to respond, but the response doesn’t come. nothing you think of seems appropriate in reply. if you say yes, you’d be the first being to have ever done so. Levi had never even asked anyone before - a confession Asmo had once drunkenly given on the otaku’s behalf. the amount of courage it must have taken to verbalise the question, to venture so far from his comfort zone… your heart swells. the poor demon must be scared shitless.

you don’t even entertain the idea of refusal. of all the centuries he’s had to ask this question, he’s asked you. he wants you.

finally, you cup his cheek in your hand. “I’d love to.” his eyes return to yours, staring wide and glossy over crimson cheeks.

“r-r-really?!” his voice squeaks. his expression is pure disbelief, like he was expecting you to echo his signature ‘disgusting reclusive weirdo’ tirade and flee back to your own room. when you smile again, leaning forwards so your forehead is pressed against his, he inhales sharply and tightens his grip on your waist.

“I’d be honoured, Levi.” your lips brush over his brow, his cheek, his nose. “I’ll take good care of you. I promise. just let me know if you want me to stop at any point, okay?”

(read the next part here)