#this went somewhere I wasn't sure it would go

[yvilonion]

WELL GO ON THEN how did they meet!!

(this is referring to snowcrow vamp au)

i was gonna draw the scene but then ughhh omg i cant..drawing is hard so i'll just write whatevers in my head. i *will* say again that im not a writer, just a big daydreamer. and that ive never written anything about vampires before. and i have a weird taste in storytelling so if it doesnt seem vampire core to you, its prolly cuz it sucks but dw i know im aware.

again very rough idea idk how to expand the story or build an interesting plot i just know aesthetic wise, its during the 80s - 90s so it has that retro summer vibe. ironic right? i want it to be during the times colors seem so vibrant so it can contrast with vampire sylus whos dull and pale. it can work modern time as well, as long as the place is colorful.

so they met at a summer fair. it was hot and zayne had a bloody nose. with him were mc and caleb, tryna help him clean up. and right across them just a few feet away, far enough to go unnoticed but close enough to be spotted, is sylus in shades and a sun hat bigger than his head, standing and staring at the red stream of blood dripping from zayne's nose.

they were about 11 at the time. sy's mom told him to never go out during the day. but he went anyway. since vampires are nocturnal, daytime is their nighttime, so this is like a kid sneaking out of the house when their parents are asleep to go meet up with friends or sm. but he didnt have friends. not yet at least. young sy just wanted to see what the humans were up to. thats all. til he saw zayne.

zayne didnt look like the other kids. caleb wore a bright orange shirt paired with baby blue denim shorts, his sneakers had smiley faces on them, hes got a bunch of bracelets on both his wrists. mc had a blouse with baby duck motives, a turquoise skirt with ruffles on the ends, her shoes had tom and jerry's faces, her hair full of different colored clips. very childlike, very immature. but zayne wore what a professor would wear to a university lecture. a vest and collared button shirt with slack pants.... in summer? at a fair? very dull, very boring.

if that wasn't enough, he didnt act like a kid too. it was like he was an old man trapped in a prepubescent boy's body. other kids were running around screaming while he stood beside, observing. not even talking much. the only act he did fitting for his age was eating a shit ton of candy. and when he ran out, he'll continue to stand quietly.

so devoid of color. maybe he's a vampire too. sy thought. his pale skin sure does make him look like one. it would explain his mannerism as well. but then his nose started bleeding, the heat getting to him. a gush of vibrant red, the most beautiful red color sy has ever seen. oh, this boy is human alright. and the more he stared to admire the color, the more his throat started feeling parched.

(yes zayne saw him staring yes they made direct eye contact for like 5 seconds and he turned away thinking sy's just one of those weird kids who doesnt know that staring is rude.)

they never meet again after that (not like they actually met but yk) and a few years passed yada yada idk what happened. the world started becoming more grey as he grew up. both literally and metaphorically. him being a vampire means he hides in the shadows, blending in with the shady people in the shady parts of town, which meant the humans there tasted gross. or bland. its like eating stale chips or an apple gone soft. and for years sy kept reminiscing the same shade of red, wondering if that boy whom he assumed was the same age as him, was doing well. was he still wearing vests like an old man now that he *is* an old man? was he still into candy the same way he was at the fair? and most importantly, was his blood the same color or has it lost its saturation like everything else?

and a sudden impulse grew in him. to find him. somehow. he's gotta be somewhere. unless hes dead. who knows, that boy couldve died right after the fair 20 years ago, a heart attack from all the sugar. still, its worth the shot. without any planning, he packed a small bag, wallet and keys and left, heading to the small town from his childhood which was about 4 hours from where he lives now.

he arrives and as luck may have it, they were having a fair. the same fair they held back then. many kids came back now as adults, for nostalgia sake. zayne was no different.

thats all i got 💔 idk how sy's gonna persuade him like hi i think ur hot let me suck u idk ok so u can take this and do whatver u want with it

[lunarruled]

Alright so if it didn't seem like a spill and all of this shit was too clean for how long it had been since the world ended, why was Kyleigh seemingly the only one freaking out? Keeping herself under control she listened to Rosita, the only one she really trusted in this small group so far. If she thought that it might be okay for them to keep going then she would. But if something went south Kyleigh would be the first one to let them all know that she had warned them first. She still didn't get why anyone would clean up after killing those things, unless they were a real germaphobe, or knew something more about all of this than anyone else. Which made the half lycan even more uneasy, resisting the urge to start pacing as she thought.

Kyleigh could also be overthinking this. She had a tendency to do that and Rosita could be on point with her explanation. Someone else might have seen that building and thought the same thing they had; that it was perfect for shelter. Clean it out, that way it would be easier to get some rest and stockpile goods. But what if that person had a shit ton of weapons on them too? And what if there were more than four of them? As a self proclaimed alpha it was normal for Kyleigh to want to protect her small pack and not take any risks. But if they hadn't done that so far they never would have gotten out of that damn camp in the first place. With a sigh she realized that they were going to head across that walkway, whether she liked it or not.

"As you wish."

There was so much more Kyleigh wanted to say, but she knew they were already making too much noise. She didn't like guns, rather preferred a blade when it came to self defense. But this was one of those special military grade ones with a scope. So if anything she could see a threat approaching long before anyone else in the group. Checking it quickly to make sure the safety was off and that it was loaded she raised it up and kept her finger near the trigger as she prepared for them to move forward. It was obvious that they were behind schedule on their time limit, so the faster they got this done the sooner they could take a break and form their next step in the plan.

Keeping her eyes in front of her the half lycan began to walk quietly over the much too clean floor, switching glances between the scope and in front of her. She wasn't sure if anyone else could hear it but their footsteps echoed off the walls, irritating her to no end. Thankfully they made it across the walkway with out incident, coming upon another set of doors. The handles and the glass in it were clean as well, no blood stains in sight. A quick look through the small window let her know that there were no bodies on that side either, giving her another uneasy feeling.

"Alright tighten up. We go through these doors together. Everyone keep calm and don't do anything stupid."

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke. Before anyone could move Kyleigh checked around the doors for any hidden trip wires or traps, glad that she didn't find any. Keeping the gun held to her shoulder with one hand she very slowly opened the door with the other, only glancing down to the floor when she was sure it was safe to do so. No trip wires there either. She wondered if someone went through all that trouble to clean why they wouldn't set up some kind of warning system, but they were already walking through the doors so it was too late now.

Checking both sides of the area as the doors shut quietly behind them Kyleigh was relieved not to see an army waiting for them. This building was definitely cleaned recently, only a faint stain of blood remaining on the floor.

"Take another step and I'll blow all your heads clean off! Lower your weapon lady, now!"

A booming voice came from out of nowhere, the half lcyan quickly turning in all directions to try and a get a visual. Whoever it was must have been hiding but somewhere they could see all of them. Fuck, the ceiling! Why hadn't she thought of that?!

"I mean it!"

An audible click sounded, letting Kyleigh know that this person was armed and she cursed. With a groan she set the rifle down on the ground and held her hands up.

"Doesn't seem like a spill," Rosita spoke, keeping her voice low as she ran her fingers over a small side table near her, noting how there wasn't a hint of dust, the surface shiny as if it had been wiped. "Everything here is clean. Too clean. It's been weeks since shit went down." A closer glance at the floor told her that the floor had been wiped clean entirely. Good news? Maybe. People cleaning their space meant that someone was considering making it their shelter. No one cleaned a place that wasn't free of the undead to begin with. The ones that have been taken out outside the building just seemed to support Rosita's theory. Given the condition of this building, Espinosa wouldn't be surprised if someone had had the same idea as them.. "Someone must have considered staying in this place. Took out the dead outside, cleaned up so they could sleep nearby."

It only made sense. Sleeping near guts and dead bodies could kill you in the long-run, or at least pose some serious health risks. Getting rid of all the guts and bodies was a hassle, so when was it ever worth it? When the place where you slept in was just a little too close for comfort.

"We stay quiet. Kyleigh? You keep that rifle ready," she instructed, instantly regretting that she hadn't gone for a silent approach the moment they entered this building. Noise was good when you wanted to see if there were any dead inside a building as the ones that were inside would come towards you, allowing you to clear out the place without being ambushed. But when there might have been people? Well, that could prove to be detrimental. People were less predictable. It was why she thought it was smartest if Kyleigh held that rifle where they could see it. If there were any any bandits or whatever kind of people caused chaos these days, maybe they would think twice before trying anything stupid seeing that they had firearms. A glance at her clock told her that they had two minutes left to check if this place was worth staying at.. and damn, things might have just gotten even more complicated. Or not. Rosita also knew people could be resources and valuable allies, like those three were. Only checking the rest of the place would tell them what they were dealing with.

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[florida3exclamationpoints]

[cepheusgalaxy]

Oh, nice! :D

Gotta answer for. Both Espa (they/she/it) and Dimitri (he/they/it/she)

1. Have/would they ever torture someone?

ESPA: Yes, they have! Quite a few amount of times.

DIMITRI: Very rarely. That's usually Nosac's job or Nuray does it herself. He's not very good at it.

2. What is their biggest fear?

ESPA: Hm. Being refurbished; their friends being refurbished.

DIMITRI: I'm not exactly sure. Perhaps disappointing her master? That's sure something to thinkg about...

3. What is something that would make them break?

ESPA: Hmm. Despite their biggest fear, I don't think *that'd* make Espa break. They would be able to hang on. Get worse coping mechanisms. Hold onto something. She's good at that.

It's not torture. Espa is awfully used to that. Perhaps if something went for awfully long... But in general, I think that if something made it lose hope. Espa clings on to hope. Hope that it can be better and not earn punishments, hope that it can do better, hope that as long it is good, it can do something and things will turn out okay, in the end. If somehow there wasn't even that, maybe they'd finally just...quit.

DIMITRI: Betrayal! If you can even call it that. If their master or NAIPE in general left him for dead or gave him over he'd be devastated. It doesn't expect them to like it or anything, but... serving the organization is her whole life. There wouldn't be anything left for him if they did.

4. Do they cry easily?

ESPA: Yes and no. It won't cry from pain, it won't cry from distress, usually, but when it panics or when it's being punished in a particularly cruel manner...no, actually I don't think that counts as "easily" lol

DIMITRI: Not exactly! Instead of crying, they have this kicked puppy face that is just as heartwrenching to see (when they're not disguising it), but no tears spill out.

5. What is something that gives them comfort, even in the worst moments?

ESPA: Ciça. (And as I mentioned, the belief that they can be better. And if they can be better—they do—things will be better too. Sure, it's "its fault", but if it's its fault, then it can do something to make it better, no?)

DIMITRI: His teddy bear. And the approval of her master.

6. Would they sacrifice themself for a loved one?

ESPA: It depends, but very likely.

DIMITRI: I'm really not sure.

7. How easy is to convince them something that isn't true?

ESPA: Again, it depends. It is good at lying, and also at picking up lies and reading people in general, but their entire worldview is reliant on the whims of their handlers and the Silence Order, so if they want to make her believe something, she's likely to trust them.

DIMITRI: It can be very cunning and atent, more than you notice it. Dimitri will pretend to believe it (if that's what you want to see) but probably knows what's going on very well.

8. What was their darkest moment?

ESPA: Atp, early stages of its training.

DIMITRI: Not sure. Dimitri's life is consitently bad and I don't know yet if she had a point that low like Espa.

9. What was their happiest moment?

ESPA: They won't admit it, but—Ann wasn't their first handler, you see—seeing him die. It gave them a rush of relief (he was even stricter and harsher than Ann), not having to cater to him, and being a bit free, for the slightest little while.

DIMITRI: Somewhere around his training, when Dimitri was making a lot of progress. Their master expressed how proud they were of them and Dimitri got to choose any weapon they wanted and Master Emery took them out to get ice cream and smiled all the time and in that day there was no pain.

10. Would they rather be tied up with chains or rope?

ESPA: Rope. It can wiggle out of it if it's an enemy, and if it's for a punishment, makes it easier to just make itself comfortable.

DIMITRI: Chains. It's less uncomfortable because she's more used to it.

Whump OC questions!

For those who have OC's (or those who write about canon characters, also fun!), I have some questions for you!

Have/would they ever torture someone?

What is their biggest fear?

What is something that would make them break?

Do they cry easily?

What is something that gives them comfort, even in the worst moments?

Would they sacrifice themselves for a loved one?

How easy is it to convince them of something that isn't true?

What was their darkest moment?

What was their happiest moment?

Would they rather be tied up with chains or rope?

[bizarrelovetriangel]

restless nights.

you get into an argument and they become restless without you by their side.

angst with comfort. apologies for any ooc moments and stubborn mc/reader.

sylus

"I'm not taking you with me."

His words left no room for anymore rebuttals. No matter how persistent you got and what reasoning you gave, Sylus continues to reject your request to join him for the upcoming Onychinus mission.

He's never had a problem with you tagging along before, so why now? You've learned from Luke and Kieran that Sylus will be dealing with one of the most dangerous men they'd ever met, so you wanted to support him. When you brought the topic up to him, all he said was that the setting will be too much for you.

You reassured him that you can handle anything, being a hunter who's familiar with the messiest, most vile types of environment, but regardless of your reasonings, he fully intends to go to this mission alone.

"Okay."

The moment he watched you calmly closed the door on your way out of the room, Sylus knew he fucked up.

You avoided him all afternoon, and it didn't take long for loneliness to strike him hard.

He hated the silence.

Knowing you're under the same roof and yet you're deliberately ignoring him... he'd much rather have you screaming at him.

Sylus remained at his working station to continue modifying a weapon that he'd recently purchased; however, his distracted state prevented him from making progress.

The face you made before walking away from him keeps haunting him.

The disappointment in your eyes made his chest unbearably tight.

He tried to push the uncomfortable feeling away, telling himself that his response to you is for the best, but it didn't work at all.

It was difficult to concentrate on anything else.

He wondered what you were up to.

What if you decide to leave because you can't stand to be near him?

Just imagining you rush out of the house while angry caused Sylus' hands to become unsteady and accidentally crossed some wires that weren't supposed to touch.

And so, the weapon sparked and caught on fire.

"...great."

He decided to move on to boxing, hoping to release some anger — not at you, but for his enemies that he'll be seeing for the upcoming mission. If they weren't so... filthy and gruesome, he wouldn't have to worry about keeping you away from them.

After two minutes of hitting the punching bag, Sylus' eyes started to repeatedly glance towards the entrance of the gym, checking to see if a certain someone would walk in for their weekly boxing lessons.

Your boxing gloves are in the usual place, untouched. He recalled the day when you two bought it while shopping: you were so excited about using it, you woke him up early just so you could start boxing while wearing them.

But now, you won't even step in the gym because he made you upset.

Suddenly, Sylus was no longer in the mood to box.

You didn't join him for dinner.

He wasn't surprised, though he felt another pang at his chest when he sat down on the empty dinning table.

He learned from Luke and Kieran that you had already eaten a little earlier while ranting to Mephisto, who was your only companion for supper.

The crow gave him a questioning look as he flew by and parched on the empty chair next to him, where you usually sit.

"I know. I'm working on it."

Sylus went to his bedroom, hoping that you don't run away and that you hear him out.

But when he opened the door, a cold breeze hit him along with a lonely feeling. The room is empty, and you're nowhere to be found.

He knew you're still somewhere in the house; otherwise, Mephisto would've told him already that you'd left. You staying means he's not totally screwed — not yet, at least.

The only other place he thought to check is the room where you used to sleep in, before your relationship became official.

And sure enough, after calming down his nervous, hitched breath, Sylus knocked on the door.

No response, but the room is unlocked.

He dared to take a peak inside and immediately softened at the sight of you sleeping on the bed. His feet acted before his mind and walked up towards your side.

He sat down on the mattress and his eyes slowly traced the ravishing features of your face that he missed, despite the argument being only just several hours ago.

He yearned to touch you, just for a second, to feel your warmth and softness. His right hand carefully reached towards your face, knuckles aiming to brush against your cheek.

But then, you opened your eyes.

Sylus froze for a moment, waiting for you to tell him to leave and stay away from him, but instead, you just blinked at him with curiosity and a hint of amusement.

"What are you doing?"

"...caught me redhanded." he chuckles. "I was looking at you. Because you wouldn't let me do it while you were awake. Sorry to disturb your peaceful sleep."

You watched his hand that was about to touch your face slowly retract, and you wanted to grab it and embrace it.

"...who said I was sleeping peacefully?"

Sylus looks at you with confusion.

"It's hard for me to sleep whenever we have arguments." you murmured, sitting up slowly so you can look at him properly. "I wanted to see you, but..."

You were sulking all afternoon.

You grew tired of arguing with him and thought you'd eventually find the right words to tell him later on, once you've calmed down.

"Me too." Sylus slowly reached for your hand, almost afraid that you'd pull away, though he relaxed once you intertwined your fingers with his. "Let me tell you why I'm against you accompanying me for this mission."

He told you about the shady people he'll be visiting. They are nasty criminals who have done unforgivable things to people, and everything about them is just disgusting — physically and figuratively.

As much as he wanted your company and assistance, Sylus doesn't want them setting their filthy eyes on you. He doesn't want them to know about your existence at all.

Mostly, he doesn't want to waste your time and energy on people like them. He knows you're strong enough to be by his side and help him take them down, just as you have done a few times before, but he'd much rather keep you away from their dirty hands.

"I understand now." You tightened your grip on his hand. "And still.... I want to go with you."

Though his brows furrowed as a silent reply, he stayed quiet and allowed you to fully let out everything you want to say.

"I appreciate your concern for me, truly. But ever since the twins told me about them, that they're dangerous and full of dirty tricks, I can't help but worry.

You're strong and you definitely don't need me, but still... I asked to go with you because I want to support you, just like how you sometimes help me out with my missions."

Sylus was met with the familiar look of persistence and determination in your eyes and realized he was never going to win this argument.

You've always been stubborn.

But that's just one of the reasons why he's so infauted with you.

You win.

"I should have known better than to try to leave you out of something like this." he sighs in defeat, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

You grinned at his tone. "It'll be fine. And fun — maybe. If not, then I'll suffer with you."

He clicked his tongue and poked your forehead. "Fine. But before we go, you have to prove to me that you're capable of fighting them."

"Hmm? Prove to you, how?"

"You'll have to join me in the boxing ring tomorrow, kitten."

You gasped and your eyes lit up. "My gloves! I've abandoned them! Let's go boxing right now!"

"...weren't you just about to sleep?"

"No way! I wanna hit something now! Come on!"

Sylus allowed himself to be dragged out of the room and brought back to the gym, where the boxing ring awaits.

Unlike earlier, the gym appears to be warmer and much more lively.

At last, Sylus can breathe easily.

zayne

Getting scolded by your lover was not how you were expecting your trip to the hospital to go.

He never raised his voice, but the coldness in his tone was what struck you in the chest.

He reprimanded you for being too reckless and careless at work, stating that you need to pay more attention to your surroundings and not throw yourself in danger at any chance you get.

Maybe you caught him in a bad mood, or maybe he was fed up with all the times that he has to see you with injuries. Either way, you didn't feel like being around him for a while.

Later that night, you fell asleep earlier than usual and missed a call from Zayne. You knew you probably should've called him back once you woke up in the morning, but the memory of him scolding you like a child made you throw your phone aside and momentarily avoid him.

Zayne is wide awake and his eyes are glued to the screen of his phone.

For once, he doesn't have work to keep him up late at night. Instead, you're the reason why he's unable to sleep.

You haven't been returning his texts and calls.

He knew you're upset because of what he did at the hospital. He shouldn't have spoken to you like that. You were already hurt. The last thing you needed was for him to give you a lecture over something you don't have much control over.

Zayne wanted to apologize to you.

He considered going to your apartment so he can properly give his sincere apology, but with the way you've been deflecting his attempts to communicate, he figured you wanted some space from him.

It's understandable that you'd feel that way, but still, Zayne can't ignore the aching in his chest. The other side of the bed feels colder than usual, and the silence of his house was uncomfortable.

You should've been next to him, resting your head on his chest while showing him funny memes and videos of cats after playing silly games on your phone, then you'd randomly come across an interesting article that would be your discussion until the two of you fall asleep.

This time, all he can do is keep checking his phone, just in case you decide to text or call him, and he'd answer in a heartbeat.

He wanted to hear your voice just so knows that everything is going to be okay, and that he doesn't need to worry about the possibility of losing you. Unfortunately, he wasn't granted that wish.

He eventually fell asleep with his phone on hand resting on the empty side of the bed.

Zayne was right.

You really are careless.

Showing up at the hospital twice in a week, just two days after your previous visit, is embarrassing at this point. You admit that your mind wasn't as awake and alert as it should've been, and so you've landed yourself another injury while fighting a Wanderer.

You did your best to hide from Zayne.

In fact, you tried going to a different hospital but Tara dropped you off here and fled instantly, so you have no choice but to go in with your slightly injured shoulder.

It just so happens that Doctor Greyson was the one that treated you, as he was the only one currently available.

You thought you'd be able to leave without seeing Zayne at all, but Greyson was unaware of your current situation so he informed him that he just finished fixing you up and you should be free to leave now.

Zayne just finished a long surgery, but once Greyson passed such valuable information to him, he rushed to your assigned room.

He caught you just as you were about to step out.

"Ah!" You put a hand over your racing heart. "You scared me!"

"Sorry." Zayne paused for a moment. "May I ask you to join me in my office?"

Your stomach shifted anxiously. "Sure..." The walk to the location was filled with nothing but awkward silence, which hurt to think about because it's Zayne.

That's the man whom you love more than anything else.

The last thing you want with him is an uncomfortable silence.

At the very least, you were able to gather your courage to own up to your mistakes.

Once he closed the door...

"I'm sorry!"

Zayne was caught off-guard.

"What?"

"You're right. I've been careless lately." Your shoulders sagged as you accepted defeat. "Like my injury today could've been avoided if only I was a little more cautious. I really do need to work on it better. I'm sorry for ignoring your texts and calls. I know you're just looking out for me."

Zayne let out a breath of relief.

He failed to stop himself from pulling you into his arms, so tight that you let out a gasp, though you didn't complain so he didn't release you just yet.

He desperately needed to hold you.

He was afraid that you might not want to see him anymore because of the way he had spoken to you, but it seems he'd gotten a chance to correct himself.

"I'm sorry for talking to you so coldy." He backed away just a small distance so he could look you in the eyes, though his hands remained locked on your elbows. "There are much better ways to express my concerns for you. I won't make the same mistake again. But also..."

He took your left hand and kissed the back of it. "Please don't ever try to hide your injuries from me whenever you do get hurt."

"Ah...." you wondered how he found out you were trying to hide from him today. "Sorry. I won't."

Zayne smiled and kissed your forehead.

"I'll accept your apology, on one condition...."

"What?"

"You have to spend the night and the whole weekend with me now. To make up for the times when you weren't by my side."

caleb

"I did it to protect you."

"And now, the fleet has all the access to the information that I was supposed to get. But yes. I was so fortunate that The Colonel came to my rescue. Thanks."

Caleb sighs as you shut the door and locked yourself in your own room of his house in Safehaven.

It's true that he interfered with your mission and you failed to do what you were sent for, but the man you were interrogating was equipped with a weapon that could've left you permamently injured.

What was he supposed to do?

He wasn't going to just watch and wait for you to get hurt.

The man just happened to be a common enemy of the fleet and the hunters association, and it seems that you've crossed paths for a race on whoever could capture him first.

While you technically reached him first, Caleb was the one that took him away and had him in captive with the fleet.

He figured he could just find that man and get the information you need, though it seems your mission was time sensitive and you were supposed to report to the association by tonight.

While he feels bad about you failing to accomplish your mission, he doesn't regret barging in to stop the enemy from hurting you.

His priority has always been you and it will always be you.

Everything that he's ever done is to protect you, even if you're against it. That's why this isn't the first time you've fought.

Ever since you were younger, you'd sometimes get mad at him for doing something that was intended to keep you out of harm's way.

It's nothing new.

Still, no matter how many times it happens, Caleb will always hate the feeling of you being upset with him.

He especially cannot stand it when you pretend he doesn't exist. He'd rather you hit him as hard as you can than act as if you don't see him. Otherwise, what other purpose does he have, if not to provide for you and be by your side?

Caleb made dinner for two, but he's the only one in the dinning room, sitting across an empty chair. It's dead silent aside from the noise of the flying vehicles roaming around outside his house.

He already put food in your plate and filled you a glass of juice, just in case you give in to his attempt to lure you out with the delicious smell of tonight's meal.

Caleb took his time eating. He had sent you texts, with lots of stickers, telling you that dinner is ready and that you can come out of your room now, though not a single message had gotten a reply.

His eyes would constantly dart to your closed door, hoping that it would open and you'd stubbornly come out with a pout on your face, just like what you always do ever since you were little.

He wasn't so lucky tonight.

But that doesn't mean he'll let you starve. You can be mad at him, but at the very least, be angry with a full stomach.

Caleb picked up your plate and drink and set it down on the floor right outside your room.

"Pip-squeak." He knocked a couple of times. "It's fine if you don't want to see me. You don't have to forgive me, but please eat something before you sleep. I'll leave the food outside the door."

He paused for a moment, as an apology almost slipped out of his tongue, though he wants to do it properly when you're face-to-face, so he will wait for a better time.

"Goodnight."

Afterwards, Caleb took a long bath before going to bed. You two had plans to watch movies tonight after your mission, but that was definitely not going to happen now. He had no idea things would end like how it did, and now he's staring at a wall feeling empty.

Around midnight, you quietly stepped out of your room. You brought the dirty, empty dishes back in the kitchen so you can wash them and return them in the storage.

Five steps in the dark kitchen and you almost drop the fragile items on your hands.

There's something lurking in the shadows.

"Ah!"

Your right hand swung up to hit the figure that started to walk towards you, ready to hit them with the plate.

The object was caught easily and snatched right out off your fingers. The light switch clicked and soon your eyes had been greeted by bright white light.

And you learned that the figure that had been bathing in darkness is none other than Caleb, who looked just as freaked out as you.

"Why are you still awake?!" you screeched, putting a hand over your pounding heart. "Why are you out here just standing in the dark like some demon?!"

"I wasn't standing in darkness. I was sitting." he huffs, putting the plate on the counter table. "And I should be asking you the same thing, Pip-squeak. Why are you awake?!"

His eyes suddenly widened and his shoulders stiffened.

"You're...not gonna leave, are you?"

He looked like a sad, kicked puppy that made you feel like a super villain.

"No, I'm not leaving." you replied softly, taking a step closer to him after setting down the empty glass of juice on the counter table. "I was just going to wash these... dinner was delicious.... by the way..."

Caleb let out a sigh of relief before a smile came to his face. "I'm glad you liked it. If you still have room in your stomach, wanna go for dessert? I still have some of the ice cream that you bought last time."

Your eyes lit up at the mention of the sweet dessert. "Yes!"

As the two of you enjoyed the ice cream, Caleb took the opportunity to talk about what happened.

"I'll admit that I don't regret interferring with your work to save you from getting hurt." he started slowly, watching you just in case your mood flips again. "But I am sorry for getting you in trouble."

You shook your head. "I'm over it now, but... you have to remember that I'm also capable of dealing with dangerous guys. I may get hurt, but it's part of my job. You don't have to jump out and save me every time, even though I appreciate it and you, every time."

Caleb sighs, recalling you repeating similar words to him before.

He really does jump out of nowhere to save you a lot — in fact, anytime he can, he does it.

"You're right. I know you've gotten strong, Pip-squeak." he grinned, patting your head. "I'll be sure to remember it. But also, you have to remember... worrying about you is part of my job. That'll never change, even if you become the greatest superhero of the deepspace."

"Heh."

You can't help but laugh because it's true.

That is just how Caleb is.

And it's one of the things that you love about him, despite all the times he pissed you off by being over protective.

"If I become the greatest superhero of Deepspace, will you bring me more ice cream?"

Caleb laughs at your empty bowl. "All you have to do is ask and I shall obey, Pip-squeak."

Once drowsiness finally hit you, you returned to bed and this time, Caleb made sure to cling to you the entire time.

rafayel

You'd been extremely busy for almost two weeks because of a big, intricate mission. It left you very little time to rest, and absolutely no time to go out with your lover.

But once you finally got some freedom, the first thing you did was give him a call, asking him out for lunch.

"It's okay, Miss Bodyguard. You don't have to see me if you don't want to. I know you've been really busy to make any time for me."

Maybe he was just joking or being dramatic as usual, but something about his tone rubbed you the wrong way.

"Okay then. Bye."

The moment the call ended, Rafayel wanted to throw his phone at the wall.

Why did he say that?

He'll admit that he has been sulking, disappointed that he hasn't seen you for days; however, he knows it's not your fault. You're just doing your job, after all.

His mood hasn't been the best lately, and he ended up saying the wrong thing to you. Now, he scared you away from him even more.

He wanted to see you and apologize, but you sounded quite mad and he's certain you don't want to see him at the moment, so it's probably best to leave you alone for now.

Thomas entered the studio and almost tripped over a paintbrush on the floor. The place is even messier than before.

He found Rafayel lying on the couch, wide wake and staring at the ceiling.

"Your studio's getting way too messy. Maybe you should clean up a little."

"It's fine. No one's going to come over anyways."

Thomas was quick to notice his dispirited tone. Rafayel already seemed lonely last week, but this time his mood seems worse.

Another proof of that is the lack of progress on the paintings.

"You haven't started anything new yet?"

"I haven't had any inspiration."

The one hint that Thomas got about what was bringing Rafayel down is the yellow bird plushie right next to him, who he may or may not have been talking to.

"So, it's your Miss Hunter, isn't it?"

It's happened a couple of times before. You two have gotten into arguments before and it usually ends in the same way, with Rafayel sulking like this. This time, it might've lasted longer than usual.

"I don't know what happened, but I suggest seeing her and talking it out."

"I know that. But if she doesn't want to see me.... what if she starts screaming and hitting me when I'm there?"

Or worse, you tell him you hate him.

His stomach tightened with discomfort just by thinking about it.

Thomas chuckles lightly. "So what? You can take it, can't you? Then again, she is a hunter.... and she could kill you...."

Rafayel frowned and froze for a moment.

Then, he suddenly rolls over and drops to the floor before jumping to his feet. "Thomas, you're a genius!" he exclaims, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. "I don't care if she stabs me with her sword! I'd survive. but... if I go on another day withour seeing her, I might actually die for real..."

"Hh — sure, I guess..."

"I'm gonna go see her now!"

Thomas watched as he started to scramble and sprint out of the room. "Wait, you should clean up first before — "

"Ow! Who put this paint brush here?!"

You opened the door and Rafayel immediately shields his face with his hands, as if to protect himself from you.

"....I don't know what's going on but I'm a little offended."

You wanted to laugh but you reminded yourself that you're still mad at him.

Or at least, you were.

The moment Rafayel showed up at your doorstep, all you want to do is hug him.

"If you're gonna stab me, do it quickly but at least wait until I say sorry first so it doesn't sound like I'm using my last, dying breath to make it up to you. I mean, I would do that too if I must, but I'd prefer if I don't sound pathetic and gross."

"...what?"

Rafayel pulled himself together and held both of your hands.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I promise I didn't mean it at all. I just missed you a lot and... I.... I might've been...a little grumpy because of it... but I still shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I'm really sorry."

You softened and held his hands tighter. "I'm sorry too, for snapping so fast and running away. I also wasn't in the best mood."

Rafayel didn't waste another second before pulling you into his arms.

"Let's not do that again. It's stupid and silly and boring."

"Agreed."

He buried his face against your neck and held you tighter for a little longer while your fingers brush his hair from the back.

Rafayel took a moment to feel your warmth.

You're here, right in front of him, after days that felt like months.

Letting you go will be extremely difficult.

"Miss Bodyguard...."

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna come to my house? Reddie misses you...

"Just Reddie?"

"...well, I missed you way more, but you can spare him five minutes of attention. But that's it. The rest of your time is mine."

xavier

For your latest mission, Jenna paired you up with a new hunter that just joined your team. She said she wanted him to learn from you, so he became your temporary partner.

Xavier wasn't quite happy with the captain's decision.

Jenna never said he couldn't join you, right? The new guy can keep following you, but that doesn't mean he has to be alone with you.

Fast forward to the end of the mission, Xavier had been so focused on making sure the new guy keeps a fair distance from you, and the newbie almost got hurt.

You took responsibility and jumped in at the very last moment to save him, leaving you with a minor scratch on your left arm. Nonetheless, the mission was a success.

You confronted Xavier afterwards. You didn't care at all about the scratch, but you were more concerned with him letting his jealousy get in the way of the mission.

Captain Jenna scolded him about not following orders. Although she never specified that he couldn't join you, he still messed with the plan that the team discussed early on. Luckily, he's not deeply in trouble: he'd only been warned not to do it again.

You mostly repeated what Jenna said, but you also told Xavier that he shouldn't have gone out of his way to physically keep your temporary partner away from you, and that you wished he trusted you a little more, especially in a professional environment.

Xavier was unable to come up with a response and like always, whenever he's jealous, dark clouds appeared all around him as he sulks.

You didn't feel like cradling him at the moment, mostly because you felt tired from the mission, and you needed to cool your ahead after all that happened.

You went straight to your apartment after work. Soon after taking a shower, you landed on your bed and welcomed a nap.

Xavier anxiously paces back and forth in his apartment.

He knows you're sleeping because of the fitness watch app that you both use. He decided that he'll wait until you wake up before apologizing, so at the mean time, he's practicing in his head what he'll be saying to you.

You two rarely have arguments because he'd learned to be more straightforward with his thoughts and feelings, but when jealousy comes into play, he still struggles to contain himself. He's working on it, but he's having quite a slow progress.

He'll admit that he might have gone a little overboard today, and he hated that his actions led to you getting hurt, even if it's just a scratch. If only he hadn't gotten in the way.

"...I'm going now."

Unable to wait any longer, Xavier teleports out of his apartment and appears on your balcony — it's become a habit of his.

He found you sleeping on the couch of your living room.

Xavier walked up to you quietly and covered your body with the throw bunched up by your feet. He knelt down on the carpeted floor and admired your features.

He knew he shouldn't get jealous so easily, but how could he not?

He's so deeply in love with you, he can't help but act irrationally sometimes.

But even more, he despises whenever you're upset with him and because of him, so he knows he can't keep behaving drastically all the time whenever another person who shows an ounce of admiration for you comes around.

"You smell like burnt cookies."

Xavier snapped out of his thoughts only to realize that you had woken up.

He took a whiff of his white hoodie and confirmed your observation. "I tried to make you some cookies to make up for earlier but I got distracted and forgot about them...."

And by distracted, he means pacing back and forth across the kitchen while writing his apology speech in his head.

"Pfftt.."

Xavier scratched the back of his head while you laughed loudly. His eyes lit up at the sight of your joy on your face.

"I'm sorry about your cookies." he sighs. "And I'm sorry for acting the way I did earlier. I promise I'll... try not to get jealous..."

You laughed again, this time softer as you leaned forward to brush his hair with your fingers. "The truth is, I don't mind that you get jealous sometimes. Even I get jealous too."

"Really?"

"Really."

He never notices you secretly being bitter whenever someone is clearly attracted to him, though you never act out on your jealousy because he always reassures you that he only has eyes for you.

"It's normal to get jealous." you told him. "But next time.... just make sure not to step out of line and get yourself or anyone innocent in trouble."

Xavier nodded and kissed the palm of your hand that had been combing his hair. "I promise I'll be more responsible from now on."

You smiled and pecked his nose.

"The smell of cookies really got me. Wanna try again? I'll help you this time."

"I'd like that. But first...." he rested his face onto your lap. "Can we just stay like this for a little while? I think I need to recharge."

Your hand returns to combing his soft hair. "Of course."

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

Just read a fic where there was a magnitude 6.2 (or somewhere around there) earthquake that apparently went on for a while and everyone was kinda just chill about it like "huh, was that an earthquake?" and I am going insane. What do you mean no one dropped, covered, held?? What do you mean it was 6.2 and went on for a while and no one was freaking out??? Any earthquake that goes on for long enough should be somewhat concerning!! A 6.2 for any amount of time should be somewhat concerning!! And a 6.2 that goes on for a while should most definitely concern you!! You would know it was an earthquake!! And if you didn't have experience with earthquakes a 6.2 would definitely be enough to make you consider finding a safe spot!! Like how deep was this quake that a bunch of people not used to them reacted so chill to a 6.2??

[yandere-sins]

Charming the Tyrant Emperor

A new isekai story from me? I know, bonkers! Actually inspired by the blurb I read on an actual isekai manga/manhwa/etc. BUT I liked the idea enough that I didn't read the story so I could write my own yandere version of it, hope you guys enjoy it ♥

Characters: Yandere!Emperor x Isekai!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Forced Marriage Trope, Isekai Trope, Depiction of War, Violence, Attempted Murder (not from or on the reader)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Sighing, you put down the packaging of the game you just loaded up, having hoped it would give you any clue about what it was all about.

A dark, black box with only the game's title imprinted on it—Fated Encounters—was as helpful as a blindfold in the streets. Thus, you threw it over your shoulder, hearing it plop onto your bed as you stared back at the character creation screen you had worked on for a while.

You had to admit, your character was really damn cute, from the pretty eyes to the custom outfit you put together. But at the same time, not knowing what the game was all about, it was hard to decide what was needed now: stats.

"Weird game," you mumbled, feeling slightly irritated at the lack of direction you had received. The friend who told you about it had simply called it "the best game I have ever played" before leaving you behind at the game store after having pushed the box into your hand. They felt very off lately, but you didn't know why. So you thought maybe if you played their favorite game, you could get them out of their shell and to spend time with you again.

Naturally, you could play it safe and just put an equal amount of points in all the stats, but where was the fun in that? You didn't know what occupation your main character had and had no idea what alignment you wanted them to have throughout the run, so you were like a stranded whale when choosing the right stats—utterly helpless.

And out of frustration about it, you decided to say fuck it.

Pressing the button of your controller, you held it until all of the points you were given went into charisma. Who needed strength, magic, defense, and health when you could simply talk your way out of every dangerous situation? Make everyone believe you were innocent and sweet while dodging the possible bullets. With your lack of knowledge about the game, it was the best choice, and if you liked the game, you could still revisit it with better stats next time!

Clicking 'start' almost excited you as you waited for the screen to change from black to an intro cutscene, but instead, another confirmation popped up, asking you, "Are you sure you want to proceed with these choices? Note: All choices have consequences."

"Ominous," you chuckled before hitting the confirmation again. The game made a small sound of acceptance before it finally turned black and stayed this way. Seconds passed, and you started to press all buttons, up, down, left, and right, until finally, you gave up, accepting that all your hard work creating this character had just been in vain, as your system must have frozen.

Frustrated, you forced a manual shut-down of your game system, discarding the controller somewhere on the table before getting up and letting yourself fall head-first into the mattress. What a stupid idea this was, you thought to yourself as you felt the hard box of the game poke your stomach. Anger unleashed upon the poor box as you yanked it out and discarded it on the floor, instant regret overcoming you as you hoped it wasn't broken so you could return the game.

You would definitely not go through all this work again to play it.

No way!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You awoke to the sounds of screaming.

Bellowing voices were all around you, yelling at one another, grunting, despairing. The ground beneath you shook with ferocity as the bangs of explosions hit you from both sides, barely shielded by the ringing in your ears. Alerted, you pushed your hands into the surface beneath you and felt your fingers dig into what felt like loose earth or sand while you tried to focus. What had happened? You only just fell asleep after being so frustrated with the game you couldn't play. Why had the atmosphere changed so drastically?

Gripping your head, a surge of pain went through you, a nasty gash on your forehead wetting your palm. The red was striking even through your blurred vision as you gazed at your hand, and reality was still hard to grasp as your senses suddenly cleared, letting in the unmistakable sounds of war all around you.

Hastily, you looked around, trying to focus on one thing and all at the same time. This place didn't look like your home at all! There was neither a bed nor your gaming setup around that clearly marked it as your room. Instead, you saw dirt everywhere, flames rising from bushes and trees, and the worst part—bodies.

Countless humanoid bodies lay in the dirt, the ground stained with what could only be blood. Most were face down, arrows sticking from their backs, spears slammed through the armor some of them wore. Some of their heads were rolled to the side, staring at you lifelessly, and for some reason, you were overcome by guilt, as if it had been your fault they died. You grabbed yourself by the arms as you were overcome by the horror, finally realizing you were on some battlefield, wounded and terrified, with no idea how you got there.

Had your country been attacked while you slept? How could you have not noticed it? Where was your family, why did these bodies look so medieval? What the hell was going on?!

Next to you, another person stirred, clad in black armor and clearly in pain. You crawled over to the knight, helm covering his face while he clutched his side.

"Hey! Hey, stay calm!" you called out to him, and he jerked at your voice, probably just as scared as you were. "It's going to be alright," you assured him, looking his body over for wounds until you noticed the gaping opening his hand tried to press down on.

"It's okay," you kept assuring him, hoping he wouldn't notice the wavering in your voice. You had no idea if it would be okay or not. Honestly, it looked pretty bad for him. All you knew was that one should press down on wounds to stop the bleeding, and although you felt bad, you put more pressure on top of the knight's hand, hoping that would help.

"Why..." he grunted, and you gulped.

"We have to stop the bleeding so we can get you to someone who can help! A-A doctor... healer, something like that! I don't know, I'm sorry! This is all so strange, I have no idea what's going on! I'm doing my best! I just don't know what to do! I'm so so sorry!"

Your whole body was wracked with shivers as you tried to assist and help this person somehow when the sound of his voice suddenly cut through your panic in a way you didn't expect.

He chuckled.

"No, why would you help me?"

"You're hurt..." you whispered in response, saying it before thinking clearly.

"It's war. Would you not want your enemy to be hurt?" he asked, his voice lightening with curiosity. Even if the concept of war was so unfamiliar, only known through stories and history to someone like you, you understood that he meant that hurt and death were inevitable when two sides clashed. Still, it meant very little to you, who couldn't bear these thoughts even though you had to have them.

"War is awful! No one deserves to be in pain or die!" you sobbed, tears having collected in your eyes. This wasn't the right moment for your pity party; after all, this man was probably as good as dead. Yet here you were, making it about yourself and your stupid, conflicted feelings. But this guy was perhaps the same as you, lying in the dirt, scared and frightened. You didn't want the closest thing to an ally you had, to die miserably.

"I don't want this! I don't want you to die! I don't care if you're my enemy! You deserve to live and be happy! Enjoy your life, eat good food, and be in love with someone who loves you just the same! It's not fair! No one should have to die in vain!" you yelled, and it took him a moment before he laughed softly, rolling his head over the ground.

"Your Highness, get away!" someone yelled, the voice clear and strangely familiar as the black knight next to you suddenly rose from his early grave. Even though you both sat on the ground, he towered over you, the shining black of his armor looming like death incarnate. His hand reached up towards your face but instead caught your wrist from where it had touched him. You jolted in surprise, his grip crushing as it wrapped around you. Gasping out in pain, an arrow suddenly came swooshing through the air, cutting close enough to the knight's grip on you that you could feel the wind on your exposed skin around your hand, tearing you out of your fear and pain.

For a moment, his grip softened, and this time, your body responded perfectly, yanking yourself out of his hold and toppling back. It was neither elegant nor careful. It hurt as your elbows crashed onto the ground, your lower back taking most of the blow, but at least you were a few inches away from that strange knight.

Strong arms hooked underneath your body, the presence of many people surrounding you as you were lifted from the ground swiftly. You heard all sorts of armor clanking and clicking as people moved around, but even more so, you were forced to listen to the blood-curdling screams of soldiers being struck down right in front of you.

Was it the black knight or the ones now crowding around you? All of the people here wore silver plates, but you could only see hints of black through the gaps in their formation.

"Your Highness, you need to leave right now! It's too dangerous to remain here!" the soldier that held you from behind yelled over the screams, and without asking for permission, your hand was once again gripped by a bigger one, dragging you after him as he ran.

More knights closed in as you two stumbled in the opposite direction, shouting and attacking enemies behind you while you stumbled over your feet, trying to keep up. Hand lodged tightly in the iron grip of the knight, he didn't look back as he made his way through the soldiers, almost as if his mission wasn't fighting but rather fleeing.

Not so much you. Somehow, you couldn't shake off the need to look back, to assure yourself, to see something you weren't yet in the place to judge.

There he stood amongst the silver knights, flames reflecting in the brilliance of his black armor. You had been sure he had been severely wounded. Yet, he swung around his battle axe effortlessly, striking down the soldiers one after the other as if they were no match for him.

"Hurry, your Highness!" the soldier yelled, tugging you forward repeatedly as the black knight's head appeared to look up. He met your gaze in a bizarre look as it was covered in his helmet, yet you could feel his eyes drilling into you, fixating on yours while he was being attacked.

It was you who had to break the strange eye contact as you were suddenly gripped by your hips and unceremoniously lifted into the air, falling into a saddle on top of a nervously stomping horse. Reigns shoved into your hands, you yelled out in surprise as the animal took off, no regard to its rider's condition, and you could only cling to the reigns and saddle as it gallopped of to who-knows-where.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"He keeps advancing towards us, showing no signs of stopping."

"He won't stop no matter how much gold and resources we promised him! Open your eyes, Minister! It's not like he spared any of the cities he rode through during his conquest! They don't call him the "cruel tyrant" for nothing!"

Many men shouted angrily around the large table, making their panic and frustration known as they discussed how to stop the tyrannical approach of the new emperor who reigned over even his own vassal state. From small ministers to military captains, no one knew what to do, and the pressure threatened to overcome all of them. The crown on your head still felt as heavy as the first time they forced you to wear it—unfamiliar, not right. They called you their Queen, yet you didn't feel royal at all.

Because you weren't, you were an imposter.

For all you knew, you had taken over some noble's body while they were attacked by the emperor's forces. That noble turned out to be of quite a high standing, putting you into this awful position of ruling a queendom. No matter how much you asked for information from the people around you, they'd give you weird looks, expecting you to know the answers to your own questions. Still, you couldn't exactly tell them you weren't that person either, not knowing what they'd do with you if that were to happen.

And it was all that stupid game's fault.

You had no idea how this could have possibly happened. "Isekai" was only ever a concept you had seen in stories and games. But when you sat in front of a mirror for the first time, you immediately remembered the face that looked back at you—the character you had created. The disconnect to your body was severe and real; no matter how much you rubbed your face and grimaced at your reflection (the maid giving you apprehensive glances), you had to eventually accept that this body was who you were. Things still didn't make sense, but you tried your best in the new role, although it never felt right.

"If only someone had killed the emperor when they had the chance," one of the ministers noted with a dramatic sigh. All eyes fell on you for just a short moment, making you cower. You couldn't have known! That's what you kept telling yourself. He technically told you he was your enemy, but how would you have known that without playing the game? But you doubted you could have really killed the black knight—the emperor—even if someone had told you that he was your mortal enemy. Even if your body was that of the monarch under attack by the emperor, you didn't have a sword and much less the will to kill someone.

However, your hesitation made you look incapable in everyone else's eyes.

Now, you didn't just have to deal with the upcoming attack—your head still throbbing from the gash whenever you thought about the war—you were also scrutinized by everyone for failing to protect them from the emperor's advances. It was a lot to handle for someone so wholly underprepared as you were. This wasn't your life, but for them, it was all they had ever known.

The door being suddenly thrown open saved you from yet again explaining why you didn't kill the emperor when you had the chance. Why you let him live despite "knowing" who he was. All eyes fell on the butler standing in the doorway, panting heavily, holding up a letter and fanning it in the air with urgency.

"Your Highness!" he yelled through despite the lack of hair. "A letter arrived! A letter from... from... the emperor!"

Gasps went through the rows of people as the one closest to the door jumped up, ripping the letter from the butler and opening it. Some ministers gave each other worried looks, and some stretched their heads towards the one reading the letter as if to see better.

Suddenly, the minister rejoiced, laughing out loudly, and you were uncertain if that was a good or bad sign. He did sound indignant, but at the same time, he seemed to have just solved all the worries in the world.

"An alliance! The emperor wants a marriage alliance with us!"

People sprung from their seats as they cheered, although some of the older ones sent worried glances towards you. "The war is over!" someone yelled, and more of them fell into a chant as they danced around the table. But could it really be that easy?

"Uhm, I'm sorry?" you called out, gathering the attention of those still seated. "The emperor wants to marry who?"

Now, all the eyes were back on you as the cheers died down. The letter was passed towards you, the oldest, wisest minister at your right looking it over, adjusting his monocle to read it properly. Sputtering a little, he lowered the paper again, leaning forward and reaching for your hand, cupping it gently, encouragingly. Yet, you didn't feel comforted at all.

"That would be you, your Highness."

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Still as the dead, you stood in the forest clearing, waiting. Everyone around you was tense as they waited for the emperor's delegation. But you were long past nervosity. Between the letter and the arranged date to hand you over to the emperor's delegation were months of tears and training.

You tried to revolt and make the people understand that you couldn't possibly marry him! But it all fell on deaf ears when you screamed and raged. Rumors had reached you of how he had killed potential spouses for less. How this was all a facade and how the emperor would still ruthlessly conquer the land that had made you its ruler and then kill you to mock them on top of it. And you had shed many, many tears pleading for your life. Almost everyone had cried with you, chastizing you while their own hearts broke, taking pity on you, and comforting you.

But to these people, you were the only hope they had.

Perhaps you would have conducted yourself more gracefully if you had been their real queen. Accepting your fate and enduring the strict training needed to ensure you were perfect for the emperor. When you asked them to stop pleadingly, they would. But after a brief rest, you were forced to train again, your muscle memory of very little help when all the etiquette wasn't good enough for the empire's standards. It was while you were training that you finally understood something.

Every choice had consequences.

The game had warned you before starting and freezing on you. If you acted up, threw tantrums, raged, and went against what the people wanted, you got nowhere. But instead, if you sympathized with them, asked nicely, and conducted yourself well, you got everything you wanted. Giving them what they desired always ended in you getting your will. All points in charm, right?

So, if you wanted to survive, then you had to find out what the emperor desired. Quickly.

All of your senses were in survival mode, making you seem graceful and dignified while you waited, going through countless scenarios in your head. If he wanted money, you'd tell him how to construct something lucrative from your world. If he wished to reign the world, you'd offer him to conduct peace treaties in his name, having to charm more people so they'd agree. You had devised a solution to almost every problem when birds flew out of the trees, alerted by the incoming caravan.

On your way to the empire, you'd listen intently to the delegate to be prepared. Everything would be fine. You could do it. All points in charm would help you! You had trained yourself for this and made sure you were more aware of people. Everything would be fine!

But you didn't expect to see the black armor that haunted your dreams to lead the delegation, the emperor himself arriving before you the moment his horse stepped out into the clearing.

You drew in your breath sharply before bowing deeply as his horse came to a halt in front of you while your heart raced. The clattering of armor took you back to the war, your body wincing with trauma. You weren't prepared for this, his heavy footsteps shaking your resolve as they approached. Some maids gasped in horror, the soldiers on your side readying their weapons to defend you.

How could they? Everyone knew what he was capable of!

But they loved you too much to not defend you with their life if they had to. So you remained low—for their sake, too. Until a hand reached beneath your chin, cold metal clinging to your skin as your head was lifted, forcing you to face your worst fear.

With you standing straight again, he still towered above you, much like when you met him on the battlefield. His touch lingered as he reached around his head with his free hand, pulling off his helmet. His looks hadn't been much of a surprise as the emperor had sent you his painting along with countless presents once the deal was made. But still. He was devilishly handsome for such a cruel man, with hair as black as his armor and eyes as red as only the fiend could have.

"There you are," he murmured, only meant for your ears. "I've been waiting for this."

"So have I," you replied quickly, not wanting to disgruntle him at the first meeting despite your voice wavering with fear. It wasn't the ideal situation—perhaps there never would be one—but your plan was still solid: find out what he desired and force him to keep you alive to get it.

His gaze shifted from one of your eyes to the other, searching for a lie. But it wasn't. Ever since you realized you couldn't change the fate that was to befall you, only sweeten it, you had waited for the day you'd meet him.

Pleased with his findings, or the lack thereof, his lips cracked into a wide grin, befitting of the cruel tyrant as it paired well with the glint in his eyes to reveal only madness. So far, it had gone well, but you couldn't count on his mood appearing to be favorable. He was as unpredictable as his strategies on the battlefield; that much you had learned already about him. To further fall into his good graces was all you could do.

"I was surprised about your proposal," you spoke calmly, putting some of those charms to work. Reaching up, you pulled the emperor's hand from your chin, instead cupping his palm over your cheek and holding it there. The emperor watched every one of your moves with curious interest, probably expecting you to try and kill him at any given time as well. Almost, you two were alike like this.

"I didn't expect you to want--"

"You."

You forced a grin, chuckling curtly, and his expression sank slightly. "Yes, me. Why me? Why not someone from the empire or the other states? What could you want with little ol' me?"

Lips curled back even more, showing off teeth that seemed almost predatorily sharp before the emperor suddenly burst into laughter, doubling over while still holding your face in his palm. The soldiers around you two were completely taken aback at the emperor's sudden outburst, inching closer while some backed away in fear. He regained his composure quickly, though, bringing his other hand up to cup your face fully now between them as he chuckled, inspecting your face thoroughly.

"You have such a refreshing way of speaking, my dear. Unlike any other noble I've ever met. And I could just eat you up for it." His thumb loosened from the side of his hand, rubbing over your cheeks gently. The metal left a cold smear on your skin, but you forced yourself not to react to it, holding his gaze firmly while you feared that looking away could be your death sentence.

"But that was not the reason," he clarified, and you gave him a small nod, indicating that it was fine with you. "It was what you said on the battlefield. That you didn't want me to die. Me. Do you know how many of our peers disagree on that? Do you know how many I have beheaded for less than wishing for my death?"

"I do not."

He stared at you with this maddening smile on his lips before the emperor's expression suddenly softened, his thumb returning to caress your cheek. "Good," he sighed, sounding almost relieved. "I don't want to scare you. Very well then."

Letting his hands fall from your face, you still didn't feel like grasping the situation completely, but you didn't hold on to him, watching instead as he hiked up his pants, adjusting the armor over his legs before taking a knee in front of you. Everyone—including his side of soldiers—gasped, but the emperor paid them no mind. The boon of the strongest must have been that no matter what he did, he couldn't care less about the opinions of others, and he made it very clear, asking silently for your hand by presenting his own.

There was no reason to refuse him, so you placed yours into his palm, letting it linger as he reached upwards, pushing back the sleeve on your arm. His grip tightened as the bruises you had suffered from your training were exposed, face falling as he looked at the damaged goods that you felt like. Panic rose as you feared his anger, and you quickly reached over to push down the fabric again when his eyes fell from the wounds to yours, overpowering you and pushing the sleeve out of the way.

"I promise to take you as my spouse," he announced solemnly, leaning down to kiss the back of your head.

"To love and honor you, as will you, me," his lips wandered upwards as he muttered the words, kissing the small specks of bruises littering your arm.

"Not to hurt or trouble you," he looked up, lips curling into a cheeky grin as he lightly bit your arm, making you gasp before adding much more quietly, "Unless you like it."

"And protect you until my dying breath."

Finalizing his oath, the emperor quickly got up again, smiling at you like a child on Christmas. You had no idea what kind of awkwardness lay in your own expression, but when he offered his arm, proceeding with the handover, you barely hesitated to link yours with his. As if this new life wasn't surreal enough, you didn't understand his character at all. Was he a terrible tyrant or a kind husband in the making? Mad or simply living up to what people expected of him? Searching for comfort in you or planning something devious and evil?

But before you could ponder these thoughts, you heard a sudden commotion behind your back, making you look back only to see one of your soldiers break out of the protective formation and charge toward your new husband with a dagger raised.

"Die, you monster!" he yelled, aiming for the emperor's back. However, your husband twisted around without letting your arm fall, catching the dagger in his free hand. "Careful," he grumbled. "You could hurt my wife with that."

With a strong yank that you only saw, not felt, the emperor discarded the dagger, his soldiers crowding in and grabbing your knight, kicking his knee until he was doubled over. With an appalled gasp, you detached from your husband's arm, but he caught your hand, pressing his palm to yours and linking your fingers forcefully, every one of his movements deliberate, yet no less oppressing, as if to make a point.

"Tell me what to do with the traitor, my Love," your husband asked, eerily asking for your opinion. You gulped, the life of the knight weighing heavy on your mind like the crown. Looking at the emperor, he was waiting patiently for your decision, but you knew he had no intentions of letting this knight live, and you gulped. You had to survive. You had to put yourself first, even if it hurt.

"I don't want any more bloodshed. It makes me feel terrible," you whispered, looking away in defeat. "But I understand if its what you have to do."

All you had was your charm. You could have pleaded for the knight's life, but if it wasn't what the emperor wanted, you wouldn't convince him and risk your own. The words left you with a heavy heart, but it was the best you could do for yourself. You had to save yourself if you wanted to make any change—and that was hard enough.

"Very well, then," the emperor announced suddenly, turning away from the knight that attacked him, instead wrapping your arm around his again. Confused, you looked back as your husband moved onwards towards the carriage, glimpsing the same confusion in the eyes of the other soldiers.

"You're not going to kill him?" you asked as the emperor signaled for a servant to open the door to the carriage, making sure you had a steady hold on him as he led you into the inside.

"No. You said it makes you unwell. I don't want that."

"But... why?" you asked, feeling a little stupid as you took a seat in the luxurious carriage, much better than the one your state had provided for you to travel to this spot. "Isn't that what you want?"

"Again, you ask about what I want. Is that all you care about?"

You gulped, feeling busted as you watched him climb inside right behind you, his armor making it hard to move, but he managed just fine. Still, his question felt genuine and less like he expected something, so you decided to play dumb.

"Is it not the most important thing for your wife to know?" you mumbled, the subservience in your own question almost making you gag. It was hard to throw away your values, even if, in the age of this game's setting, you had to play along unless you had the strength to rise above.

The moment he sat down, the carriage began to move, your body losing its strength at the unexpected movement. However, sturdy arms caught you, helping you to sit upright again and find the emperor's gaze on you, his expression briefly worried before it grew serious. It felt like you messed up big time, and that so shortly after meeting him, too.

But then the seriousness cracked away again as he smiled, shaking his head softly. "Ridiculous," he mumbled, his eyes flitting up to meet yours again after taking a deep breath. "I just can't be mad at you, no matter how stupid your questions are. Aren't you glad you are such a charmer?"

Yes. Very glad. Very, very glad. At least at that moment.

"Then I will say it once more," he announced. "Make sure to not forget it, as I won't repeat myself a third time."

With comical playfulness, he poked your forehead, making you scrunch up your face, and he laughed at your expression in return.

"When we were on the battlefield, and you told me you didn't want me to die, I realized I couldn't. You may have been simply pitying me or trying to be nice in my last moments, but my body was overcome with vigor as if you had commanded it not to die. That's how sincere your words felt."

He leaned back, but his eyes never left you, even as he took a break from talking to seize you up. You had an inkling that without knowing about your skills yet, all points in charms must have worked back then, too.

"Almost like you put a curse on me..." he added, eyes narrowing as he thought. Gripping your thighs, you realized that, technically, this wasn't good news. Technically, you had caused this mess. All choices had consequences, and you made one without realizing it by telling him not to die.

"You are the only one who wishes for me to live, so I knew you were the only one who could stand by me. And now look what you make of me, no more wars, no bloodshed, just as you demand. Do you know what that means now?"

"That you... want to settle down?" you mumbled, half joking, half unable to think of a better response.

"No." Again, he tapped you on the forehead, and you got a feeling it was his way of reprimanding you.

"I will do as I said, protect you, love you, honor you. As long as you are with me, I will be good. I can't promise to be peaceful all the time, but at least in front of you, I'll keep my vows, and I assume you, too, bear responsibility for taking everything I want from me and replacing it with what you want. Our encounter must have been fate, as nothing could shake me until you came along. So tell me, and I hope you took note, what do I want?"

Silence fell over you two as you tried to work through all the information you had acquired. He'd stop waging war? Would stop the bloodshed? Just because you wanted him to live and he wants to honor his vows in return? This could never undo the harm you knew he had already caused to so many, but it had the potential to better the future.

"You want..." you mumbled, thinking about what it could be. It felt as if it was on the tip of your tongue, but no matter what scenario you recalled playing through in your head, you couldn't find one that fit. No money, no territory, just something he claimed he already told you.

Your eyes widened as you realized it, and the cruel emperor's grin widened madly in response.

"Correct," he murmured, leaning forward until his lips were brushing against yours, his palm returning to cradle your cheek.

"You. I want you."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Bruce: What do you do if you wake up to one of your wards standing over your sleeping body, checking your heart rate while holding an Anti-creep stick?

Barry: Im going to take a wild guess here and ask: Was that Danny?

Bruce: Yes! He wanted to make sure I wasn't a vampire.

Clark: Where was Dick?

Bruce: Digging a hole.

Diana: Why was he digging a hole?

Bruce: In case I turned out to be a vampire, they needed somewhere to hide the body after Danny killed me.

Hal: Spooky, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think those kids you took in are a danger to the public.

Bruce: They're good kids! Dick is just going through a lot with his parents being killed in front of him and Danny.....well, Danny escaped a lab that his parents sold him off to. Both of them are having some trust issues right now and are acting out. That's all.

Clark: Bruce, last week Danny broke into my apartment and held me at knife point demanding to know what my intentions were with you. He wouldn't accept that we're coworkers.

Bruce: He probably thought you were a vampire. Danny doesn't like those.

Hal: Didn't Dick break into your house too Barry?

Barry: Yeah, but that was more so he could cuddle with Wally then to make threats at me. Danny, on the other hand, showed up at three am. after rumors about Batman and Flash sleeping together went around. He threatened to cut the muscles in my legs so I could be " The fastest crawler in the world" if I didn't offer Bruce a ring by morning.

Bruce: Why is this the first I'm hearing about that?

Barry: *shrug* I figured you knew since the next day you showed up and apologize for the boy's behavior.

Bruce: I did not know. I was apologizing for him breaking into what I assumed was to see Wally while grounded like Dick. Great, now the boy is going to kill me in my sleep and/or ensure I never get a lover again.

Diana: I think it's rather sweet. Danny is placing a challenge for your would-be suitors. It's like a wolf pup attempting to scare away mates from his father. No real harm was done.

J'onn: He set me on fire.

Bruce: What? Why?

J'onn: Apparently, my eyes were on your back for too long. I was admiring your cape, but Danny believed my eyes were focused too low, and I was instead admiring your bottom. Dick threw glitter in my eyes a few hours later.

Bruce: *sigh* Danny is overly protective, and Dick does whatever his big brother tells him to. I don't know what to do anymore.

Oliver: Tell him you're a vampire but like a sluty one that feeds on lust instead of blood. He'll get scared and leave your dates alone.

Bruce: That's an incubus. What you just describe is an incubus. Also, that's a terrible plan. I would be in a hole so fast.

Hal: Yeah, but they would cry while they buried you so there's that at least

[valentina-writes]

ovulation

Azriel x reader

kinda a part 2 to this

summary: it's your first time ovulating as a fae and your mate Azriel is more than happy to satiate the need within you

genre: smut!!! | words: 3.7k | masterlist

warnings: 18+, pwp (not even a sliver of plot), smut, piv, oral (f receiving), wingplay, creampie, the breeding kink goes hard in this one, slight exhibitionism, cumplay, ovulation (duh)

Smut! Only proceed if you're 18+. Minors dni

A/N: Here it is, sorry for the confusion earlier! I have no words to excuse this unhinged piece of filth, except that I'm sorry it's not longer ;) Don't ask me how I came up with it. Maybe this is the last time I'm writing smut, cause honestly? I think I've peaked with this.

Sweat was glistening all over Azriel's torso. The sun caught the droplets at just the right angle. It looked almost like he had a faint glimmer to him as he was sparring with Rhys. His toned abs were a sight for sore eyes, the way they flexed as he put his weight into a punch directed at the high lord. But Rhys was fast and dodged the attack. The males circled one another, waiting for a moment of weakness to strike again.

Had Azriel's back always been so muscular? Did it look like this as well when he wasn't tackling his brother, but instead bending you over and fucking you? Azriel looked so wild, so carefree in the heat of the moment. His big wings unfolded halfway as he landed his first punch in Rhys's face. And you couldn't help the shudder that went through your body at the sight of your mate and thought about how he would –

"...and then he – Y/N, are you even listening to me?" Feyre waved a hand in front of your face to win back your attention.

"What? I mean sure I am". You were perched on a bank, observing your mates sparring. Shirtless. You had no idea who was winning. The only thing you noticed was the way your mate's biceps flexed and how the sun hit his perfectly sculpted chest –

"Hey! You're practically mind-fucking him. What's going on with you? This is so unlike you". A blush crept over your face. But the wetness in your panties only intensified when a breeze hit your nostrils that carried the shadowsinger's scent. And a strange heat settled in your abdomen.

You were already half out of your seat before you realized you had stood up in hopes of clawing the pants off Azriel right there. "Oh Gods, of course", Feyre laughed, "I think you're ovulating". Azriel's head whipped around to you so fast he should've broken his neck. He stared at you, wide eyed and whatever he saw in you had his eyes darkening and a blush appearing at his neck. A moment of weakness Rhys used to hit him square in the face.

The hiss you shot at Rhysand was inhumane, animalistic almost and maybe you would've tried to tackle him, if your mate hadn't immediately stood up again and walked towards you with a grin on his bloody lips and looked so sexy you contemplated having a wagon-load of winged babies.

"Did he hurt you?". You brought your hand up to his face, your fingertips lightly grazing the small wound. Your mate shook his head no and, for some reason, Rhys was chuckling somewhere behind you. Your finger stilled at his upper lip. You took him in now, close up. His dishevelled hair, the sweat mixing with dirt and blood made him so masculine, so attractive your knees nearly buckled.

"You looked so hot fighting like this", you breathed. Rhys wheezed before laughing out loudly. But your mate drew you into a hug and whispered into your ear: "I could smell you all across the training ring". Your hands grasped his arms to stabilize yourself. Your heart hammered inside your chest and the burning desire between your thighs got unbearable.

Azriel turned his head towards the others. "Did you tell her what it would be like? Does she know? I don't want to take advantage of her like this". As if on cue, you moved your hand down his front, down the delicious muscles and to his pants that hid his manhood. And then you brushed over his half-hard length firmly, fumbling to open his pants. Azriel's scarred hands clutched your waist tightly and a small gasp left his lips.

"She does", Feyre was nearly crying from laughing, "besides I think it's her who's taking advantage of you, not the other way around".

"Azzie", you begged, unable to open his pants while he held you so close, "I need you. I love you so much. You're so sexy. And it... it hurts".

Concern etched on his face. "My love, where does it hurt?". Deep inside you, straight at your core.

"I can show you". Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were screaming at yourself to get it together, but it was like all your senses were attuned to him. Like every filter had been removed, when you grabbed his hand and tried to shove it down your own pants while simultaneously tracing the whirls of the tattoo on his chest with your tongue.

"Get a room, for Cauldron's sake", Rhys bellowed and your mate grimaced at your antics.

Azriel grabbed you by your arm, the world turned dark around you and all of a sudden you were in your bedroom, hanging onto Az.

"My mate is so strong and powerful", you grinned. "And so hot and so big". He choked on plain air when you palmed him through his pants again. You whimpered. He was fully hard now, straining against his confines. "So big", you repeated and stroked him through his pants. A growl left Azriel's lips and his lips crashed onto yours in a passionate kiss. Your blood was boiling, clothes too tight on your body and his naked skin drove you insane. Every thought left your brain as you touched every inch of his body you could reach and pulled him to the bed, on top of you without breaking the kiss. You were starving and the only remedy were his lips and his tongue that were just as desperate as your own. Only when you were gasping for air, did Azriel move his kisses down to your neck.

"It hurts, Az"

"I know, baby. I'll take care of you. But you've been a bad girl, my love. Very bad". He panted. Dark tendrils of shadows slipped around your waists and ankles, binding them to the bed.

"First, you smell so delicious you make me lose against Rhys". He pressed a hot kiss to your neck, flicking the delicate skin with his tongue. A loud moan escaped you and you thrashed against the shadows holding you in place. "Then you try to get me to fuck you right in front of my brother". He took truth-teller and cut across your shirt and bra before throwing the knife away and latching onto your now freed hard nipple. It took everything within you to not come undone then and there. "And then you touch me and almost make me cum in my pants even though you want it so much, don't you?" He rolled his hips against yours once, against the powerful bundle of nerves.

"I can't help it", you replied breathlessly, "I – fuck – I need you".

His tongue circled your nipple. "Hmm... use your words. Where do you need me? I'll make you feel better" The shadows snaked up your legs now and smoothly pulled off your pants, leaving only your panties that were so wet the fabric clung to you like a second skin. Azriel kissed all over your breasts. "Here?" You shook your head. His kisses wandered further down, stopping near your bellybutton. "Here?". Vehemently, you shook your head again. "Hmm... where else?", he teased. You wanted to grab him and lead him, but the shadows wouldn't let you. Azriel chuckled softly and his mouth moved down again, agonizingly slowly towards where you needed him most. Your body was ablaze, writhing against the shadows that bound you. At the seam of your panties he stopped, breathing you in. "Gods, you smell divine". A hungry expression grazed his eyes. His nose pressed into your clothed crotch and he inhaled deeply, groaning. Azriel pressed a kiss right there, making you keen. "Do you need me here?".

A shadow caressed your cheek lightly. "Yes, right there". A wicked gleam showed in his eyes. He pressed a kiss to your still clothed sex that had you chasing his touch. You could only see his dark hair when he kissed your thighs, higher and higher, until he reached delicate skin next to your panties, soaked with arousal. By now, you were reduced to a whining mess, the only word leaving your mouth his name. You couldn't see what he was doing, your view obscured by his big wings, but the next moment, air hit your cunt and he had a ripped piece of fabric hanging from his grinning lips. Your heart skipped a beat and you moaned out in delight. Azriel had ripped your panties off with his teeth.

Azriel pressed light kisses to your folds, and then licked through them up to your clit in one slow motion.

"So wet for me". And then he ate you like you were his last meal. With deliberate strokes of his tongue, he gathered your moisture and greedily swallowed it all. His tongue dove into your waiting hole, a hand moved up to grasp your breast and with every lick, your mate's nose hit your clit at just the right angle. He was thrusting against the mattress now, you realized wirh a shudder. It was too much.

"Come on my tongue. Let go for me", he panted between licks. He thrust his tongue deeply inside and you came hard, screaming out his name and fell limp to the mattress. He helped you ride out your orgasm, drinking up every drop of moisture. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, but the pain in your womb hadn't receded. If anything the searing ache had only intensified.

"You're so pretty when you cum". Azriel kissed you softly on your lips and this small affection had you arching up against him again.

"Fuck, Az. I need more of you"

Calloused fingers ghosted against your clit and then slipped downwards, circling your entrance.

"My pretty girl can take another one, can't you? For making a fool out of me infront of Rhys". But he didn't look angry at all with his wide smile and blown out pupils as two fingers slipped inside you and curled against your walls.

The stretch and the textured feeling of his scarred fingers was oh so welcome and you greedily leaned into him, but it just wasn't enough. It just wasn't his rock-hard cock that lay against your thigh now, promising pleasure beyond anything you had ever felt.

You stroked lightly against the shadows binding you to the bed. They purred at your touch, turned soft and pliant. Enough so that they allowed you to move. Without wasting precious time, your hand shot out and stroked his wing, found the big vein right next to the main bone. Azriel shuddered above you and dropped his head onto your chest, his hand stilled within you. Slowly, you traced the vein and then the strong tendons next to it. His wing was limp in your hands, dropping half-opened to the bed and Azriel collapsed on top of you. He groaned deeply into your neck, making your toes curl and you nearly came from the sound alone. He humped against your leg, his cock now so hard it was throbbing through his pants, desperate for any friction. Another light touch of your fingertips against the delicate membrane and he bit your neck softly, growling.

Cold air whipped over your arm and ripped it off his wing, bringing it back to its original position. Azriel shot up and knelt over you and you couldn't help the whine that escaped you at the loss of contact.

"You can play later. For as long as you want", his chest was moving rapidly with his strained breaths, "but not yet"

"I can't help it. I need to feel you and touch you. I need your cock inside me and –"

He ripped his pants off, freeing his hard length that slapped against his abdomen. Its head was an angry shade of red, leaking precum all over. His veins stood out prominently against the soft skin and you swore it pulsed harder the more you looked at it. The ache inside you intensified, saliva pooled in your mouth and you were sure if you didn't get him inside you right now you'd die.

"I wanted to prepare you for me". He was shaking, restraining himself from taking you right then and there. His eyes wandered down to your waiting cunt, clenching and dripping around nothing, and the look on his face became predatory. "Do you think you're ready for me?" It was laughable, the way you thrashed against his shadows, your arousal so evident in the wetness pooling between your thighs and the hunger for his cock. You felt painfully empty, an ache deep inside you that you knew only he could cure.

"Please. Fuck me already. I need you, please", you whined. And the last sliver of your sanity went flying out of the window at your begging.

He was above you again so fast you didn't even see his movement. His hot tip slid through your folds, nudging against your clit in a deliciously devastating way that had you seeing stars. Azriel coated himself in your wetness and then stopped, his tip right at your entrance. You bucked your hips forward in annoyance, but he held you in place firmly.

There was little restraint left in his voice when he asked: "How do you want it?". The big wings at his back were trembling.

What a stupid fucking question. "Hard"

You didn't need to tell him twice. With a fast movement, he entered you and pushed all the way inside in one hard thrust. Azriel's eyes rolled back and you cried out in ecstasy. The way he filled you so completely, stretching you with a delicious burn around his hard length made the need for him even worse.

"So wet and ready for me. You take me so well", he whispered and thrust hard once. You tugged at the shadows again, but they wouldn't budge this time. "Such a needy little princess". Another thrust, hitting a spot that made you see stars. "I love the way you feel around me. Always so perfect". His eyes darkened as he looked down upon your naked body. "Hold on tight". He grabbed one of your legs and spread you wider, allowing him to settle even deeper inside you, taking your breath away. And then he fucked you roughly into the mattress. He set a rough and punishing pace, his hands wrapped so tight around your waist they would leave bruises. His cock hit all the right spots inside you and every thought except for him left your mind.

The moans that escaped you were beyond shameless. Again and again, you tried to arch up into him, but the shadows wouldn't let you. Your eyes met his and the love he put into this look was enough to send you ober the edge, crying out his name.

He stopped inside you without pulling out. "Do you feel better?". All you could register was the hard length still buried inside you up to his balls, throbbing and twitching. You shook your head.

"No? What more does my princess need?". Azriel's mouth latched back onto your breast, sucking and kissing the hardened nub and you felt yourself getting impossibly wetter by the second. "I need – fuck – I need – your – cum", you gasped with each flick of his tongue.

A deep groan sounded from him and it was music in your ears.

"Want me to come inside you? Fill you up with my seed?". He pressed a hand to your abdomen, right were he was nestled inside you and you bucked your hips against him.

"Yes. Please – don't pull out"

Azriel dropped down on you again with almost all his weight. It was pure torture having him so close and not being able to touch him.

"Breed me, Az"

Something inside him snapped at your words. He started moving again, thrusting harder and faster than before. Moans escaped his lips, mingling with your own.

The shadows relaxed their pull around you. You flung your legs around his waist, allowing him to go in even deeper. And your hands shot up straight to his bag, fingers clawing at his hard muscles. Azriel growled deeply into your ear.

"Want me to breed you?"

"Yes", you moaned, nodding frantically. He was almost there, his thrusts grew sloppy and impatient. The throbbing of his cock against your cervix the most beautiful thing you had ever felt.

"See how deep I am?" The fingers of his hand pressed to your abdomen flexed right where a bulge formed with every thrust. All you could do was nod weakly, your eyes rolling back. "Feels so good"

"This cock is yours". Your hands threaded into his hair and pulled him down to your lips. Shadows flew down to your clit and started nipping at it. "My seed is yours", he whispered against your lips.

With a strong twitch, he came inside you, hot ropes of his thick cum spurted out of him, right where you needed it the most. There was a lot of it, warmth spreading deep inside you. He kept moving, his cum squelching obscenely and the feeling of him and his seed right against your womb, the shadows working your clit perfectly, had you convulsing around him in a hard climax.

Azriel buried his face in the crook of your neck. The mating bond between you glowed in a familiar light and you felt the love radiating off him.

"Did I hurt you, baby?", he asked breathlessly.

"No. I loved it". You shuddered. There was semen dripping out of you now and you hated every drop that was wasted.

"Do you feel better?"

He tried to withdraw, but you kept him from escaping by pulling him further in with your legs around his hips.

"Not enough", you complained, out of breath, "need more of you". The burning inside your womb had died down by a fraction, but you weren't satisfied yet. Your body needed more of him, even though you could already feel him softening inside you.

"You're insatiable. Like a desperate little slut, begging for my cock to fill you up".

Azriel's lips found your neck, licking, kissing and biting until you were reduced to a whining mess below him again.

"Wait a bit, I'm not ready to go again"

But you couldn't wait. He let you roll him over onto his back with you sitting astride him. Azriel's hands gripped your hips and there was nothing but love in his gaze. Cum ran out of your cunt and dripped into his short pubic hair, onto his thighs and the sheets. Your pussy pulsed at the sight.

You dipped your fingers into his cum and brought it to your mouth to taste him. The slightly salty aroma made you moan on your fingers. And Gods, he was so sexy below you, his chest still glistening with sweat, the illyrian tattoo and his toned abs, the absolutely fucked-out look on his face. You knew exactly what to do.

Both of your hands found his neatly folded wings. You stroked all over the membranes, unfolded the wings to reach the better hidden spots that he loved the most. And he just let you.

He grew harder inside you by the second. Not long, and you were circling your hips, sliding slowly up and down his cock, slick with arousal and cum.

You got off on the sight of him, completely at your mercy. With each deliberate touch of yours, his wings trembled under your fingertips and his cock throbbed inside you.

"You're so hot like this", you gasped as you rode him slowly, "I want to fuck you until your balls are empty and I'm full of you".

You brushed against the main veins of his wings. A full-body shudder went through him, his gaze turned clear, and the next moment, he had you face down, ass up in the air and entered you from behind, making you scream.

"Fuck, that's better", he groaned, "Didn't I say it's time for wings later?". You only mewled, the new angle bringing a foreign stretch and deep penetration.

You were close to orgasm again

"But my girl needs more of my seed, right? You need to milk me dry?". He underlined his words with a deep roll of his hips and then stilled, his hands at your hips to keep you from bucking your hips back at him.

The words tumbled from your lips like a prayer. "Fuck yes. Please, Az"

With one sharp movement, he started pistoning in and out of you again, his balls slapping rhythmically against your clit.

"You're perfect like this, taking me so well".

His pace was relentless, each thrust shoving you deeper into the pillows.

"Come for me again, love". Azriel's fingers found your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your climax ripped through you with a force that had you screaming his name. You clenched around him trembling.

One more thrust, until he was buried deeply inside you, his tip nestled directly against your cervix, and he found his release with a roar that had the bed shaking. Warmth spread inside you once again, straight to were you needed it.

He pressed a kiss to your back and pulled out of you. A small river of his cum trickled down your thighs. Your pussy felt sore, but the ache was gone and so was the fog in your mind.

Azriel pulled you tightly against him, laying down.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Is it better now?".

A blush crept over your cheeks at the thought of how wanton you had been only minutes ago. The things you had said, for Cauldron's sake. You hoped Rhys and Feyre had at least left the house before you started. There was no way you'd be able to look anyone into the eye again if they'd heard that. Not to mention the embarrassment you felt towards your mate. The way you had begged for his cum.

"Yes. Is it over now?"

A grin settled on his face. "If you're lucky, it'll be over in a few days".

You hid your face in your hands. "A few days? Oh Gods, I'm so sorry for how I behaved. For what I said. That was so –" Embarrassing? Humiliating? Shameful?

"That was really hot", he said softly and took your hands off your face, "that was probably the best sex I've ever had and, judging by the sounds you made –" you wanted to die on the spot "– and how you begged for more, I think you liked it too. Nothing to be ashamed of. It's instinct, you can't control it". A peck on your nose had you smiling again.

"I know, but still". He stared at you, disbelieving. "Okay, fine. I loved it. And it doesn't sound too bad to have you fucking me like that for the next couple of days"

[cuntphoric]

gojo satoru wasn't subtle. never had been, really. if he wanted something, he went for it. and tonight, that something was you, sprawled out beneath him with flushed cheeks and a chest that had been teasing him all damn day.

"you know, i think you wear these tops just to mess with me," he murmured, his voice was hushed as his fingers toyed with the straps of your bra. the fabric had been discarded somewhere near the foot of the bed, leaving you in nothing but lace and his undivided attention.

"i wasn't-" your breath hitched as his lips pressed against your collarbone, trailing lazy kisses downward, "-trying to mess with you."

"oh, sure. because i totally believe that," he drawled, though the smirk on his lips told you he didn't believe a single word of it. his hands cupped your breasts through the lace, thumbs brushing over the peaks with the kind of touch that made your body arch into him. "but that's okay. i don't mind being messed with by you, y'know?"

he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the teasing light in his eyes softened by something far more. then, slowly, he leaned back down, his mouth trailing over the tops of your breasts. he reached the edge of the lace, he paused, his tongue flicking over the fabric.

"satoru," you whined, your hips shifting beneath him as heat pooled low in your belly.

"patience, sweetheart! i'm not done appreciating you yet. you're just so pretty all laid out for me like this, how can i not?" his voice was muffled against your skin, and before you could protest, he hooked a finger under the lace, tugging it down just enough to bare you to him.

the groan he let out was downright sinful. "god, you're perfect," he said, like he was talking to himself as much as you. his hands framed your chest, holding you steady as his lips closed around one of your nipples. the sensation made your back arch again, a gasp escaping your lips as his tongue swirled and flicked - his free hand going to knead your other tit.

he didn’t rush. he lavished your breasts with worship, switching from one to the other with no less intensity as his hand switched to the other tit once more. his teeth grazed your, in the moment, warm skin, a contrast to the slight coldness of his mouth but with the soothing strokes of his tongue.

"you're so beautiful like this," he mumbled between kisses, his hands never straying from your chest. his fingers kneaded the soft flesh, coaxing gasps and whimpers from you with every touch. "i could spend all night here, you know. just like this."

"you're so annoying, toru, i know you would," you managed, though the words lacked bite when your voice was this breathy and needy.

he chuckled, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the valley between your breasts before meeting your gaze again from down there, watching you stare up at him with a dazed look. "maybe. but you like it."

which is true!

you couldn't argue with that. not when his hands and mouth were driving you to the edge with nothing more than sheer devotion to your body. it was so pleasurable - your senses were overwhelmed, your body alight with the feeling of him smooching every inch of your boobs. every swirl of his tongue and press of his lips felt soft, calculated to pull you apart bit by bit.

[holdmytesseract]

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[aquamarineb1tch]

show me who you are ─

the mark of cain weighs heavily on dean's shoulders, affecting all of you. when the bloodlust becomes too much, you know you have to help him. in the only way you can think of.

cw ─ slight angst, mark of cain!dean, very slight mention of sa/non-con (not from dean), blood, gore, canon-typical violence, smut!, fem! reader, praise kink, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected p in v, sorry if i miss anything else!

☆ 💿PORNSTAR - nessa barrett

i wanna hear you talking dirty,

i wanna see it on your face.

⭒

it was getting worse, you could all see it. you, sam, cas - hell, even crowley could see it. the mark was slowly killing dean, and it was only getting worse.

it wasn't as obvious at first, just small outbursts here and there, but surely enough, it became more obvious. he was more snappy than usual, spent more time alone, and he would zone out more, hands either clenched into fists or one was clasped tightly over the mark on his forearm.

you didn't bring it up to him, that was the silent agreement that you, sam and cas had come up with, and you obliged to it. so you didn't tell dean how the far away look in his eyes made your brow furrow and your stomach churn with worry, or how your heart broke every night when you could hear him wake himself up from his nightmares. you didn't tell him how seeing him struggle, and refuse help, was slowly but surely breaking you down, and you definitely didn't tell dean that you missed him.

sure, he was right there, just down the hall from you, close enough that you could hear him in the ungodly hours of the night, restlessly rummaging around his room, but he still wasn't there. not the real him, not the dean that you knew. the dean you knew was being held captive by that horrid mark that not only haunted his dreams, but yours now too. you missed your dean, the one who told stupid jokes that made you choke on your beer. the dean who grinned proudly whenever you correctly named a song on the radio and who would sing a long loudly to his favorite led zeppelin songs, glancing at you as he drove.

drives are mostly silent now, save for the hum of the impala, or the quiet background noise of the radio, but still never those homemade tapes that he loved so much. he doesn't drink with you anymore, though he still does it an unhealthy amount. he drinks alone in his room, or late at night by himself in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes staring somewhere far off. the only reason you even know this is because one night, when you couldn't sleep, you went to the kitchen for a glass of water and found him there, only to have him get up and leave with only a nod of acknowledgement to you.

it was killing him, and if you didn't do something about it, it was going to kill you too.

the hunt was supposed to be a cakewalk. it was just a nest of vampires not too far from the bunker, and dean insisted that he was fine, that the mark's screaming wasn't too much for him to bear and he was feeling good enough to go with you guys on the hunt.

after sharing a look with sam, you reluctantly relented, agreeing to let him come along under the condition that if he felt the bloodlust creeping in, he would back off and stay behind in the impala.

that leads to now, where you were currently kicking yourself for not doing recon before going in. the nest was bigger than you and sam had originally thought, there were probably double the amount of vamps than you had previously thought, and when you, him and dean had crept into the nest, one of the freshly turned ones - a child, no less - had spotted you and screamed, awaking the whole nest. and so here you were, wrestling with one of the female bloodsuckers on the grimy floor of the abandoned barn.

her dirt-caked nails raked down the sides of your neck, making you hiss in pain as you brought your knee up hard, hitting her in the stomach, effectively pushing her off of you. as soon as she was on her back next to you, you scrambled up, quickly grabbing your machete that the bitch had knocked out of your hands and turning back to her. without even giving her a chance to bare her fangs, you raise your bloodied machete over your head, bringing it down with a cry, cutting her head right off.

taking a second to breathe, you stand up, panting heavily as you brush some hair out of your face, turning your head to the side to spit out some blood, running your tongue over your teeth to get rid of the taste. your moment of rests is cut short though, when you hear a loud thud and the sounds of a struggle from the room next to you.

gripping your machete tighter and taking a deep breath, you rush out of the room you had been in, leaving behind the bodies of the three vamps you had killed. you sprint out the door, crashing through the room next door, your heart racing as you see sam in a struggle with two bloodsuckers.

you rush over, cutting the head off one before he even has the chance to fully turn around. the other one drops sam in surprise, turning to you and snarling, his disgusting rows of fangs glinting in the low light. using the vampire's moment of distraction, sam grabs his own machete and raises it, slicing the vamp's head clean off.

"you okay?" you ask, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through your veins.

sam nods, raising a hand to brush his hair back from his face, his own erratic breathing evidence of the fight. "yeah. yeah, i'm good. are you?"

"one of 'em got me good with her nails, but nothing fatal," you answer, tilting your head to show him the marks. he winces in sympathy, eyes raking over the angry red marks before he bends down to pick up a vial of dead man's blood. "where's dean?"

"not sure, i lost him once they jumped on us," sam says, brows furrowing as he pockets the dead man's blood, adjusting his grip on his machete. "maybe we should-"

whatever sam was going to say is cut off as a scream comes from the floor below. you and sam share a look, fear spiking in your chest before you both turn, racing out the door. you sprint through the hallway and down the stairs, sam right on your heels as you skip steps, landing shakily at the bottom. your eyes scan the landing, and you turn to call out to sam, but before you can get a word out, a hand grabs your arm, throwing you across the room.

you hear sam call your name behind you, but he gets cut off, and you assume that he has a vamp of his own to deal with. you push yourself up with a groan, but as your sitting up, a hand grabs your arm again, hauling you up and slamming you against the wall.

"well, would ya look at this," the vamp spits, his yellow stained teeth shown in a grin as he leans in, his putrid breath in your face making you want to vomit. "the winchester's brought their little girl toy. how nice of them to bring us a gift."

"go to hell," you spit, the words strained as his hand fists in the collar of your shirt, pressing against your neck as he raises you higher against the wall.

the vamp only grins wider, running his tongue over his small, cracked lips. his dark, greasy hair falls in front of his eyes, and his bloodshot blue eyes make him look crazed. he's bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, and you wonder if one of the boys had already got into it with him.

"ooh, and she's feisty," he snarls, smirking cruelly. he raises his other hand to brush his grime-covered fingertips over your forehead, running them through your hair.

you turn away from his touch, struggling in his vice-like grip as bile builds in your throat, but his smirk only grins, a low, dark chuckle leaving his crusted lips.

"that's just fine," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he leans in to nose at your neck, inhaling deeply, ignoring your struggle in his grip. "i like it when they fight back."

his words make your heart pound, your chest tightening with panic, eyes wide with fear as you struggle in his tight grasp, arms flinging and nails scratching at anywhere you can reach, but he doesn't even flinch, his grip not loosening at all. you open your mouth to scream, hoping to get the attention of one of the boys, or anyone that will help you at this point, but the hand that was in your hair slaps over your mouth just as you part your lips, your scream muffled into his palm.

"ah-ah, be a good girl and stay quiet," he tuts, pulling back to bare his fangs to you. you just stare at him, eyes wide with fear as you continue to struggle in his hold. you squeeze your eyes shut as he leans in again, a tear slipping down your cheek.

"let her go."

your eyes snap wide open at the familiar voice of dean, gaze landing on him over the vamp's shoulder, relief filling you at the sight of him. he was standing there, blood splattered all over his clothes, face and hair, his grip white-knuckled on his machete. sam stands behind him, his own eyes wide with fear as they flick between dean and you in the monster's grip. you try to call out to them, but the sound comes out as a muffled whimper against the vamp's hand.

the bloodsucker turns his head to look behind him, his smirk faltering at the sight of dean. his fangs retract, but his grip on you stays vice-like.

"well if it isn't dean winchester," the vamp snarls, his hand over your mouth tightening slightly, making you wince. "come to save your little doll?"

dean's jaw clenches, his expression darkening even further as he stares at you and the vamp, taking a menacing step forward.

"i said - let her go," he growls, something dark flashing in his emerald eyes.

the vamp's eyes widen in fear at the look on dean's face, and his grip on you loosens slightly. that's the opening you need, and with all the strength you can muster, you bite down hard on his hand, simultaneously kicking your leg as hard as you can into his crotch.

the monster cries out in pain, his hands dropping you as they fly to where you kicked him. you fall to the floor with a small thud, catching yourself before you hit your head. you quickly stand up while the bloodsucker is distracted, and sam immediately rushes over to you, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms, backing you away from dean and the vamp.

"sam, wait, dean-"

"the mark's got him right now," sam cuts you off, his voice thick with worry as he holds you to him, soothing your trembling form. "we just gotta stay out of the way, there's nothing we can do."

his words sink in, and it's then you realize that the barn is quiet. your eyes widen in realization, and you turn your head to look up at sam, heart pounding in your chest.

"he killed them all?" you ask, your voice just barely above a whisper. sam's grim nod is enough to make you feel sick.

your attention is torn from that information as you hear the vamp cry out in pain, and when you look up, you see dean's got him on the floor, the vamp's head twisted at an odd angle as dean steps on his back, machete raised over his head.

"this is less than you deserve for touching her, you disgusting son of a bitch," dean spits, and you watch in horror as he raises his machete over his head, bringing it down in one smooth stroke, blood splattering across his face as he cuts the vamp's head clean off.

the barn is silent, save for dean's heavy breath and the pounding of your heart. dean's sleeve is torn, and you can see the mark pulsing an angry red, burning into his skin, the sight making your chest tighten even more.

dean doesn't move, he just stands there, chest heaving and eyes blazing as he stares at the dead body of the vamp, his knuckles white as he grips the machete, blood dripping from the blade onto the old wooden floor.

your heart aches in your chest, and you pull yourself from sam's arms, giving him a reassuring look when he tries to stop you. taking a deep breath, you take a small step towards where dean stands, your body still shaking slightly from adrenaline.

"dean?" you call softly, your voice gentle, trying not to startle him. you don't flinch when his eyes snap up to you, and though his body is still tense, you can see something soften slightly in his gaze when it lands on you. "can you put the machete down, please?"

to your surprise, he does as you ask, the blade falling to the floor with a clatter that echoes through the empty barn. you take that as an invitation to step closer, your eyes never leaving dean's as they follow your movements, his lips parted slightly as he breathes.

when you reach him, you tentatively reach your arm up, placing your hand on his arm, but he jerks back, sucking in a breath as he seemingly snaps out of whatever haze he was in. he takes a step back from you, eyes flickering between you and the severed body of the vampire on the floor.

"let's just go," he says, his voice hoarse and cold. with one last flickering glance up to you, he bends down to grab his machete before turning on his heel and walking to the entrance of the barn.

⭒

the drive back to the bunker had been silent and filled with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. once you were back inside the bunker, it wasn't any better, dean not saying a word as he storms ahead, rushing off to his room and closing the door abruptly behind him.

you and sam don't say much as he checks over you for any serious injuries, and you for him. he just hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before heading to his own room. you follow suit, shedding your bloodied clothing in your room before grabbing a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, which the boys had agreed to give you as one of the few that had it's own bathroom.

in the shower, you turn the heat all the way up, scrubbing the blood from your stained skin, washing off the hands of the vamp who had grasped you. you rub until your skin is raw, and even though you did the other day, you shave, just to feel that sense of normalcy instead of the sickly unease that crawls in your nerves. you wash your hair twice, ridding yourself of the blood and dirt you had collected in the barn, sighing as the steam melted against your skin.

as you stood there under the burning stream, you thought about dean, about the look in his eyes, the empty way he had walked away from you, and all of the pain he had been going through since he had taken the god-forsaken mark. you knew that the guilt from succumbing to the blood lust weighed heavily on his shoulders, and you just wished that there was some way you could focus that anger, that need on something else. and that's when the idea came to you.

immediately, you shut off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping your hair in it, grabbing another one to wrap around your body, rushing back into your room and grabbing a different pair of clothes than you had previously chosen. you trade out the old sweatpants for a pair of sleep shorts, large sweatshirt for an old t-shirt that you stole from dean months ago, and tossing your plain panties, instead grabbing one of your nicer pairs, a dark red lace number that hugged you perfectly, foregoing a bra.

you tried not to think about how ridiculous this was as you slip on the clothes, taking your now semi-damp hair out of the towel and running your hands through it gently, getting out the leftover tangles. you splash water on your face, drying it off with a towel as you look in the mirror, chewing on your lip as you decide whether to put a bit of makeup on or not. you decide yes, just throwing on the slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner, adding just a bit of blush, and swiping over your lips with your cherry lip balm, pursing your lips to properly coat them.

you lean back and study yourself in the mirror, cringing at the bright red scratch marks on your neck before taking a deep breath as you consider what you're about to do. fuck it, you think, go big or go home, right?

with those words of wisdom to yourself and one last deep breath, you turn and walk of out the bathroom, and then out of the door to your room, heading into the hallway, your bare feet pad on the concrete floor as you make the short walk just a few doors down to dean's room. you stop in front of his door, taking a shaky breath before raising your hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.

you hear shuffling, as if he's getting out of bed, and then the door opens and he's suddenly in front of you, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the doorway.

your breath hitches at the sight of him, your stomach flipping as you look up at him. his hair is spiked and damp, reflecting the shower he probably just took, his stubble highlighting his jaw. his plaid pajama pants are slung low on his hips, just enough to show a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of his black t-shirt that hugs his shoulders tightly, stretching over his chest.

dean says your name in a low voice, tilting his head as he looks down at you. you snap out of your trance, flushing slightly as you realize you were caught staring. "what're you doing here?" he asks, and doubt pools in your chest.

"i...i have a proposal," you say, nervously biting your lip as you look up at him.

dean's eyes track the movement, his jaw clenching as he flicks his gaze back up to your eyes, brows raising in question. "a proposal?"

you nod, shifting anxiously on your feet. you take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you smile nervously up at him. "can i come in?"

he doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at you, pushing off the doorway and stepping back, allowing you to walk by him. you step into the threshold of his room, forcing yourself to push away the nerves as you stand in front of the bed. your eyes follow him as he closes the door behind you, walking over to stand in front of you, arms still crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.

"so, what's this proposal of yours?" dean asks, the rough timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. you snap out of it, meeting his gaze head on as you speak.

"okay, i was thinking about the mark, and the blood lust." you can see his jaw clench at the mention of the mark and your stomach flips, but you continue. "so i thought, what if...what if there was another way to channel that?"

something flickers in his eyes at your words, and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. "what d'you mean?"

you swallow nervously, biting your lip as you consider what you're about to say. "before i say it, i just want you to know that if this makes you uncomfortable then i can just go and we'll pretend that this never happened and-"

dean cuts you off with a grunt of your name, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes at you. "just spit it out-"

"i want you to fuck me." the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, both yours and dean's eyes widening at the bluntness of them.

"you want me to-"

"fuck me," you restate, deciding to just go with your forwardness. "i was thinking about what the mark makes you feel, and how it makes you turn that into blood lust, but then i thought about what if you could channel it into something else. give you some other way to let go."

dean doesn't say anything, just stands there, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched so tight your worried he's going to break something as he stares at you, eyes raking over your features as if something in them is going to tell him that you're joking.

you look away as you flush under his stare, regret and embarrassment seeping into your chest. when he still doesn't say anything, you shake your head, biting your lip as you turn to head back towards his door. "i knew this was stupid, i'm sorry-"

dean doesn't even give you the chance to finish your apology as he grabs your arm and spins you back into his chest, pulling a gasp from your lips.

"stop doing that," he growls, and when you look up into his eyes, they're so dark it makes your breath hitch. his hand that's not gripping your arm comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tugging it lightly. "drivin' me fucking crazy."

you're too dazed by his sudden proximity to respond, the woody, leather filled scent that's so purely dean invading your senses and making you dizzy.

"let me get this straight," dean says, his voice low and slightly strained as he thumbs at your bottom lip, his eyes glued to the action. "you want me to fuck you, to get rid of the blood lust?"

you nod, lips parting automatically as he tugs at your bottom one, eyes wide as you stare up at him. "yea-yeah. it would still be letting that energy out, just in a different way," you tell him, your voice slightly breathless.

"and you want that?" he asks, eyes lingering on the way your lips brush his thumb as you speak before slipping back up to meet yours. "you want me to let go with you, sweetheart?"

you nod again, swallowing thickly as your mouth goes dry at the nickname. even though you'd heard it from his lips a thousand times before, this time it felt different, heavier, and you felt it weigh on your heart. "of course, if it'll help you-"

"no," dean cuts you off, growling your name and gripping your jaw tighter. "i'm asking you if you want this. not if you want to help me, i'm asking if you want me to fuck you, because if i won't touch you if you don't want this."

"i want this," you answer without hesitation, your voice breathy and your eyes wide, pupils blown with lust as you look up at him. "i wouldn't do this if i didn't want it."

dean groans, eyes clenching shut as if it's physically paining him to hold back, and his hand on your arm slides around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest. when he opens his eyes again, the sapphire green that wormed it's way into your heart is almost entirely swallowed by lust-blown black, the sight making your heart stutter.

"if we do this," he starts, his voice dangerously low. his hand caresses your waist before moving to your hip, gripping the flesh tightly through your clothes. "i'm not so sure 'm gonna be able to control myself. i don't wanna hurt you."

you shake your head, eyes determined as you hold his gaze, your hands coming up to his chest, fisting in his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer. "you're not gonna hurt me, dean," you whisper, pushing up on your tip-toes so that your lips are a breath away from his. "i want this, i want you to let go with me. i want you to use me."

dean just stares at you for a moment, his hand on your jaw moving to cup your cheek as his eyes bore into yours, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. as soon as his eyes flick back up to yours, something snaps in him and he surges forward, crashing his lips to yours.

you moan at the intensity of the kiss, your hands moving from his shirt to wind up into his hair, fingers tangling tightly in the still damp strands. his hands are suddenly everywhere, moving from your cheek to grip your hair, the hand on your hip slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, groaning against your lips when he finds that you're not wearing a bra.

your lips part instantly as you feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, moaning into his mouth as he tilts his head, running his tongue over your teeth before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. your head is spinning as your teeth clash, your hands in his hair holding him tightly to you, arching your body into his.

when you both finally remember you need air, you pull back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your now swollen lips. dean rests his forehead against yours, his hands finding a place at your hips, gripping them tightly as he catches his breath.

"last chance to back out," he breathes, looking at you with hooded eyes that make your knees weak.

"not a chance, winchester," you whisper back, your voice equally strained as you pant softly, trying to force air into your lungs.

dean groans at your words, and without hesitation, he slams his lips back to yours, one hand fisting in your hair as the other creeps up your back, pulling your shirt up with it until he has to pull away to tug it off you, throwing it somewhere. his pupils grow impossibly larger as he takes in your bare chest, your nipples pebbling as they're exposed to the cool air. his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he's on you, surging forward and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.

you yelp softly at the sudden action, the sound melting into a moan as you arch into him, hands grasping at his hair to hold him to you.

"fuck, dean─" you gasp, head falling back as his tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, his hand coming up to cup your breast that his mouth isn't currently ravishing. after he's satisfied with the job he's done, he switches, bringing his mouth to your other breast, his hand moving to cup and grope the one his mouth had just been working at, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

when you whimper his name as he bites at your bud, he pulls himself away from your chest with a pop, lips slick and eyes blown as he looks down at you. you stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted as you pant, just taking in the sight of him, so worked up over you.

"fuck," he groans, jaw clenching as his eyes greedily rake over your flushed features, his spit-slick bottom lip caught between his teeth. your hooded eyes follow the movement, your faces close enough that you can feel his breath on your heated skin, which sends a shiver up your spine.

you've seen dean shirtless many times─patching him up, or when motel rooms got too hot, but this was different. now, his toned chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his tan skin flushed with desire just for you.

you're staring, lips parted as you pant heavily, your eyes greedily raking over every inch of skin he's offering to you. your hands twitch to reach out, to feel every ridge, dip and curve of his body, and you're too far gone to deny yourself.

you rush forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and attaching your mouth to his neck. your lips trail up his neck, sucking at a spot under his jaw that has him groaning your name in a way that makes your knees weak. you're sure you would've collapsed by now if dean's arms weren't wrapped so tightly around your waist you could feel his biceps flex against your skin as your mouth ravished his neck and up to his jaw.

you're craning your neck to reach his skin, and you're body feels so hot you're worried that it's going to burst into flames if you don't do something about it. the chorus of more, more, more chants in your head, fueling your trembling legs as the walk forward, walking dean backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

he falls to sit on the bed with a grunt, his grip never loosening around you as you follow him, crawling into his lap eagerly, moaning into his neck when his bare chest presses against yours. you arch against him as you bite and suck on his neck, lips trailing down to nip at his collarbone, leaving a path of spit behind you.

"shit─need t'feel you, baby," dean rasps, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly, grinding you down onto him. you whimper in agreement, reluctantly pulling away from his salty skin, licking your lips to savor the taste of him.

you sit yourself up on your knees in his lap, cupping his face in your hands as you tilt his head back to look up at you, your thumb tugging at his bottom lip just as he did to you before. just the sight of him sends a wave of aching desire between your legs, your panties growing wetter by the second.

dean looks absolutely wrecked. his plush lips are parted and spit-slick, swollen from your bruising kisses, the white of his teeth peeking through the brightened pink as he pants heavily. his hooded eyes are so dark, the mossy green almost completely gone as he stares up at you with such reverence it makes your pounding heart stutter in your chest.

his rough hand squeezing your hips brings your attention back to the moment as he turns his head into your touch, lips ghosting your palm, his eyes staying locked on yours.

"c'mon, sweetheart," dean groans, his voice almost breathless as he squeezes your hip again, the action almost pleading. "can't take this anymore, just need you, need t'feel that pretty pussy 'round me."

his words make you moan softly, but they snap you into action. you scramble off his lap, stepping back from the cage of his legs as you hook your fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, bending over towards him as you tug them down, shimmying them over your hips and thighs until they fall to the floor.

dean's eyes hungrily watch your every movement, jaw clenching tightly and a low groan escaping his lips as the delicate red lace of your panties is exposed to him.

"son of a bitch," he mutters, his voice a breathless whisper so quiet you almost miss it.

feeling spurred on by his words, you step out of your shorts, leaving them on the floor as you stand between his legs again and start to sink down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. but his arm shoots out to grab yours, stopping you from dropping to your knees with a grip so tight you think it might leave bruises. your pussy clenches at the thought, the idea of looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of him on your skin, as a reminder of this chance you may never have again, nearly making your eyes roll back.

"no, no," dean practically snarls, straightening you up as his hands go to the waistband of your panties, ripping them from your body with a ferocity that makes you gasp. "next time baby, i promise, i'll let you use your fuckin' gorgeous mouth on me, but right now i need to fuck that pretty pussy until you can't even think anything but my name."

a breath leaves your lungs in a shaky gasp, the filthiness of his words making your head spin.

"okay─" is all you can manage, your voice shaking as he tugs you back into his lap, groaning when he feels your bare, hot core against his still clothed and straining cock. he doesn't hold the position long though, because in a blink of an eye, he has you flat on your back, breasts heaving as you stare up at him, your eyes wide and needy.

you part your lips to comment something about how he still has pants on, but the words catch in your throat as a moan when his fingers suddenly swipe through your weeping heat. you arch your back against the mattress, trying to push yourself up against his fingers as they circle your throbbing clit, sending sparks of pleasure behind your eyes.

"that's it, that's my girl─ fuck, you're so fuckin' pretty," dean praises, leaning over you to suck one of your peaked nipples into heated mouth.

his words make you whimper, and your hips buck up desperately into his hand, chasing the burning pleasure he's making you feel. "shit, dean, please, please─"

your whines are cut off into a moan when he plunges the same fingers that had been working your aching bud into your sopping cunt, your walls instantly tightening around his digits.

"i know, pretty girl, i know," he croons, his raspy voice muffled against the heated skin of your chest. his plush lips trailing up to your neck, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin as he noses under your ear, teeth tugging gently at your earlobe. "jus' give me one before i fuck you, yeah? wanna feel you come around my fingers before i fuck you stupid on my cock."

you whimper in response, tossing your head back against the mattress with a moan as he drives his fingers into your heat again and again, curling them just right to hit that gummy spot deep within you that makes your toes curl.

"oh god, oh god─" you babble, eyes squeezing shut as you feel the band in your stomach tightening, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. "dean, close, m'so close─"

your words only encourage him, his teeth tugging at your ear once more before he trails them up to your jaw, resting his forehead against your cheek. he presses his lips to the burning skin there as his thumb moves to circle your clit, making you cry out under him, your hands flaying to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut skin as you buck against his hand.

"yeah? y'gonna cum, baby? gonna soak my fingers like the good girl you are?" dean coos, lips moving against your cheek, letting his teeth graze your skin. "c'mon, pretty girl, cum on my fingers so this perfect fucking pussy can take me like she needs to."

you fly over the edge with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and spine arching as your orgasm crashes over you, stealing the air from your lungs. your legs tremble around him, and you can feel his smug smirk against your cheek, your mind too fuzzy to comprehend the words he mumbles against your skin.

his fingers don't stop, working your soaked pussy until your whining, squirming away from his touch as your eyes flutter open, mouth slack as you gasp for breath. your eyes flick up to dean as he moves his face to hover over yours, and his hand has moved but he's not saying anything, and he's just staring at you, and the reverence in his eyes makes you want to shrink, but there's nowhere for you to go.

"dean," you whisper, your voice still shaking and barely audible as your eyes search his, trying to read his expression. he still doesn't say anything, just watching you with his devastatingly beautiful eyes and making you feel like he's worshipping you with his gaze. "what's wrong? do-do you want to stop─"

"do you know," dean mumbles your name, cutting you off effectively. "how fucking beautiful you are?"

the unexpected compliment makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you're sure he can hear it. all you can do is stare up at him, and he's so close you can count every freckle on his impossibly perfect face, the moment so intimate it makes your heart clench in your chest.

"you drive me goddamn crazy," he continues, pushing himself up to stand between your legs that hang off the edge of the bed. his hands drift down to the waistband of his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one swift movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he kicks them away. "you make me forget everything, y'know that? you make me forget about this damn mark on my arm, you're in my head and then suddenly, all the mark wants is you."

your eyes drift down to between his legs, your mouth watering as you see his cock, hard and heavy in front of you, already red and leaking precum. when you continue to stare, dean leans over you again, grasping your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"i mean, fuck, just look at you, sweetheart," he breathes, his gaze raking over you, lingering on your heaving breasts before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "look so fucking gorgeous...all fucked out 'n stupid just from my fingers."

you only whimper in response, the sound breathless and soft as your spinning head tries to process his words. "please, dean," you rasp, your pleading eyes searching his, lifting your hips up to try and feel hi until he groans softly, eyes fluttering. "need you, please, fuck me.."

he stares at you for another moment, his jaw ticking and you can feel his cock twitch against your inner thigh. he finally moves again, reaching out and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips and placing it under you. when he decides you're properly situated, he settles between your spread thighs, grasping one tightly in one hand while the other pumps himself slowly. he leans over you, guiding himself to your weeping entrance as your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping at the hard muscles.

he suddenly stops just before his leaking head brushed your folds, the hand on your thigh tightening as his eyes flick up to yours. "condom?" he asks, his voice strained as he forces himself to hold back.

you shake your head, biting your lip as you watch the way his pupils dilate, the sight making your aching core clench around nothing. "wanna feel you, all of you."

"fuck," he groans, his eyes slipping shut as he pumps himself faster, lining up with your aching pussy again. "baby, you're gonna be the death 'f me."

you just hum in response, your eyes glued to where he rubs his red, swollen tip through your puffy folds. with one more squeeze of your thigh, he pushes in, punching harmonic moans out of both of you. your back arches, eyes rolling back as your tight walls stretch around him, the pleasurable burn making your nails dig into his skin.

dean watches you, eyes wide and blown so dark with desire he looks almost crazed, staying still as he lets you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "that's it, look at you, takin' me so well," he praises, rolling his hips gently to see your reaction.

"ohh shit," you moan, a gasping whimper catching in your throat when he rolls his hips again. he grasps your hips with both hands as leans over you, his bare chest pressing against yours. he stays like that, keeping still longer than he did before, and it doesn't take long until your squirming under him, whimpering softly as you grasp at his shoulders. "move, dean, please─"

as soon as the plea leaves your swollen lips, his hips snap harshly against yours, making you cry out, your eyes flying open to meet his. your mouth goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream and your brow furrowing as he pistons his hips into you, changing angles slightly until he hits that gummy spot deep in you that makes you cry out his name.

"yeah, yeah, i know, pretty girl, that's it right there, huh?" dean's voice is strained, the words a groan against your lips as he licks into your slack mouth, making you mewl under him, the sound only encouraging him to go faster. "squeezin' me so tight, shit, perfect fucking pussy was made for me, fuck─"

he pounds into you mercilessly, your tight walls tightening around his cock, sucking him in as his tip hits your cervix, making stars flash in your eyes. you swear you can feel him everywhere. his hot breath against your parted lips, calloused hands gripping your thighs and sliding up to your chest to pinch and tweak at your hardened buds, his cock making you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

you can feel your release creeping up on you, your hands slipping down to grip his biceps, moaning when the muscles flex under your touch. dean seems to sense that you're getting close, and he moves one hand from your chest, trailing his fingers down your torso until he reaches your clit, rubbing tight circles on the aching bud.

the sudden overwhelming pleasure makes you cry out, eyes rolling back as you claw at his skin, broken mewls and gasps leaving your lips. "dean-!"

"yeah, fuck, beautiful, say my name," he groans, dropping his head to your neck, his hips never faltering their bruising pace. "want you scream it when you cum around my cock."

"oh shit," you gasp, hands flying to his back, nails dragging down his skin as you feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge. "close, shit, m'close dean─"

"yeah, i know, baby, can feel you squeezing me." his fingers speed up on your throbbing clit, and with just the smallest bit of added pressure, the band in you snaps. hard.

you think you scream, but your brain shuts off as your orgasm crashes through you, the pleasure mind-numbing and paralyzing. dean continues to fuck you through it, his hips faltering as he feels your walls clamp down on him with your release.

"fuck, that's it. good girl, good fucking girl," he grunts your name into your neck, his voice strained as you feel him twitch in you, his thrusts just extending your orgasm and melting into another one. "you don't know how fucking long 've wanted this. your perfect fucking pussy gripping me so tight, fuck─ you were made for me, fucking made for my cock, never gonna let you go after this, ngh, you're mine now, sweetheart. all fucking mine."

he continues to babble as his hips falter, lifting his head from your neck to crash his lips to yours, devouring your mouth with his teeth and tongue.

"gonna cum in your tight fuckin' pussy, gonna fill you up, make you feel me for days." you whimper into his mouth, the two of you more so just panting into each other's mouths rather than kissing.

"please, dean, need it, need you so bad," you moan, feeling that band tighten once more. "wanna feel you, please, please─"

"oh fuck, gonna cum," he gasps your name into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening, and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you register that there are definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow. "fuck, m'gonna cum─"

he thrusts once, twice, burying his face in your neck and then his hips still, pressing his cock as deep into you as he can get as he twitches, groaning loudly as he spills into you, his release hot and heavenly in your tight walls. the feelings sends you over the edge again, a weak, broken cry leaving you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure.

you stay like that, trembling and panting softly under him, your eyes hooded and hazy, your shaking hands slipping from his shoulders and falling to his biceps weakly. for a long moment, dean doesn't move, just breathing heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your sensitive skin with every breath.

eventually, he shifts his hips, moving to pull out, and the movement makes you whimper from the oversensitivity. instantly, dean pulls back from your neck, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with concern.

"shit, did i hurt you?" he asks, and you can hear the panic creeping into his tone. "i'm so sorry sweetheart, i didn't mean to─"

you cut him off with a shake of your head, forcing your eyes to focus as you look up at him, a weak, fucked-out smile forming on your lips. "you didn't hurt me, dean," you assure him, your voice raspy. "i'm fine, just sensitive."

"oh okay," he says, nodding and lets out a breath as if he'd been holding it.

he takes another moment, eyes raking over your face again, and he looks like hes't going to say something, but he bites his lip, pushing down whatever it is. slowly, he lifts himself on his arms, pushing up so he's almost sitting, squeezing your thigh comfortingly as he pulls out. you wince slightly at the movement, shivering when you feel his release dripping from your spent cunt.

he pulls away from you completely, standing up and walking over to the corner of his room and your stomach sinks as you watch him rifle through his stuff. you knew this was coming, the part where he awkwardly mumbled a thank you and you take his rejection without a word, making the walk of shame back to your own room, and you never speak of this again.

you can feel the familiar burn of tears forming behind your eyelids as you push yourself up, placing your feet on the ground. you don't look up at him as you lean over, grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. you bite your lip anxiously as you stand up from the bed, intending to put your shirt on only to stumble and sway as your weak legs shake under you.

"woah, woah─" dean's arm comes around your waist, catching you before you can fall and you lean against him without really meaning to sighing at the warmth of his chest. "where do you think you're goin'?"

he turns you in his arms so your chest to chest with him, and you keep your eyes glued to his anti-posession tattoo, not quite ready to look him in the eyes and see the rejection. "i'll just get dressed and go back to my room─"

"hey, what? no," he interrupts, confusion lacing his words. his hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up until you have no choice but to look into his eyes. his brow is furrowed, and you have the sudden need to reach up and smooth the crease with your fingers. "why would you do that?"

your lips part to speak, but no words come out as the intense emotions in his eyes steal your breath.

dean says your name in a low voice, his gaze roaming over your face as his thumb stroked your cheek gently. "did you think i was gonna kick you out?"

"i...i didn't think you'd want me to stay," you admit in a breathless voice, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

he doesn't say anything for a moment, just gazing down at you as his hand raises to brush some of your hair away from your face, and if hekeeps looking at you like that you think you might catch on fire. "i meant what i said."

the words are so simple, so blunt that you don't know what he's referring to. "what are you talking about?" you ask, slightly breathless as your brow furrows in confusion.

"what i said, earlier, i meant it," dean repeats, the hand that's not cupping your chin raising to your forehead, his thumb stroking at the crease between your brows, the tenderness making your breath hitch. "i've wanted you, wanted this for so long, sweetheart."

his words stop your heart, and you look up at him with wide, shocked eyes. you can feel your pulse pounding in your chest, your shirt in your hand falling to the floor as your lips part in shock. "you have?"

"yeah," he mutters your name, both of his hands moving to cup your face now, and you subconsciously lean into his touch, making him smile softly. "i have. i'm honestly surprised you didn't notice before. even cas said i was bein' obvious."

your head reels from his confession, the words processing in your still slightly hazy mind. "you...what?" you ask, still staring up at him with wide eyes.

"i mean, hell, how could i not want you?" dean chuckles, almost to himself as he gazes down at you. "you're smart, 'nd funny, and you could kick my ass any day of the week. not to mention you're so fucking beautiful it makes me weak."

"you...you really mean that?" you ask, brow furrowing in doubt. "you're not fucking with me?"

he shakes his head, smiling down at you as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks affectionately. "you, this...it's all ive wanted for a long time."

"i..." you start, unsure of what to say as you search his expression for any hint of him lying. when you find none, a smile matching his spreads across your lips, and you lean into his touch, bringing a hand up to rest over his. "ive wanted this too. for a while, actually."

dean grins at you─a real, wide, boyish grin that lights up his ethereal features, making your heart stutter in your chest. "i guess we're both idiots then."

"i guess we are..." you agree, pushing up on your tip toes to ghost your lips over his. you hover there, just breathing him in, eyes flicking between his before you close the gap, pressing your lips softly to his.

its nothing like the kisses you shared before. in fact, it's really just the gentle press of your lips to his, savoring the way his smile feels against you, and you suddenly don't know how you've lived your whole life without kissing dean winchester like this. you certainly don't think you can live without it now that you've experienced it.

after a few savored moments, you pull away, smile staying on your lips as your eyes flutter open. your hand slides along his arm, and you feel him tense when your fingers brush over the mark.

"i trust you, dean," you whisper, curling your fingers over the raised skin, squeezing his forearm lightly. "i know you would never hurt me, and i need you to know that im not going to leave."

"but-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your free hand to press a finger to his lips.

"no buts," you counter, shifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling lovingly at him. "just because you think you're dammed doesn't mean you actually are. because you aren't. no matter what you think of yourself, it will never change the fact that you, dean winchester, are the good man. the best man ive ever known, and ill be damned if i let you think any less than that."

"sweetheart..."

"stop. don't fight me on this─"

"i wasn't gonna fight you─"

"yes you were, i could see it─"

he says your name, low and serious, but there's still a soft smile on his face. "you're too damn good for me."

"what did i just say─"

"just let me say this, will you?" he says, giving you a look that makes you shut your mouth, eyes locked on his. he sighs, just staring at you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice softer than you've ever heard it. "youre too good for me, i know that. you're too smart, too kind, just too damn good. but damnit, i want to be selfish so bad and keep you for myself."

you just smile at him, eyes slipping shut as you lean up again to kiss him a little deeper than the one before, but still soft nonetheless. "you have me, dean," you whisper against his lips, your eyes still closed. "you've always had me."

"i don't want to hurt you," he mumbles, and you can feel his furrowed brow as he leans his forehead against yours.

"you won't hurt me."

"you don't know that─"

"yes, i do." your tone is sharp, and it makes his eyes snap open to meet yours again. at this proximity, you can see the specks of gold that flicker in the deep emerald that makes your heart skip a beat. "we'll figure this out, dean. we'll get through this and get that damn mark off you. we'll figure this out, together."

dean smiles at that, a soft, relieved curve of his lips that makes the corners of his eyes crease. he looks at you with so much emotion and affection that you want to just crumble into him and never let him go, hide him away from the world so that it can't hurt him more than it has. "together," he repeats, his voice a hushed whisper.

you can tell that he believes you, and the thought makes pride swell in your chest. you may not know much about your fucked up lives at the moment, but the one thing you know for sure is that you were never going to let dean go through it alone. ever.

a/n, this ended up being way longer than i intended, but oh well. anyways, i can't get moc!dean out of my head, so here we are... and happy late new years!

ps, the end was written at 3 in the morning (again) so i sincerely apologize if the ending is rushed

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! Big fan of your writing. Would you like to write a snippet about an evil vampire who is only soft to their human even though they swear that the human is nothing to them more than a convenient source of food .

"You are bleeding."

"I'm sorry. I've not-" The human gestured vaguely at the bowl. "I've not wasted any. I swear."

The vampire appeared at their side in a flash, and that would have been absolutely terrifying if the human wasn't so used to it. Well. It was still a little terrifying. Everything about them was always a little terrifying.

The vampire's cold gaze roamed between the large gash on the human's hand to the elegant mixing bowl tinged bloody, then to the knife left clattered on the counter. The remnants of dinner prep.

Their eyes went pinprick scarlet. That, and the slight inhale of a breath, was the only sign of the uncontrollable and insatiable thirst that so drove their species.

"Stupid accident," the human said. They felt a little woozy. "Sorry. I know it's not as good when it's not fresh but I- um." Well. The generous description was that they panicked.

They had no idea what the vampire would do if they wasted blood, even by accident.

"Hm." The vampire picked up the sharp kitchen knife, licking the wasted droplets from its wicked edge. "Have you considered trying to stem the bleeding?"

It took the human a second to process, to wrench themselves away from staring.

"Didn't get that far. I just sort of thought, 'shit, blood'. Catch it!"

"How considerate."

"You know me," the human tried for a laugh, "I aim to please and not die."

"Indeed."

The laugh had come out a bit strangled. The human cleared their throat. "Speaking of catching blood...would you like to be my receptacle instead of the mixing bowl, seeing as you're here now anyway? Hungry?"

Though that raised the question of why exactly their vampire had appeared. The forces of darkness and evil did not usually make themselves known before sundown, even if the manor was all tinted and sun-blocked windows. The smell of fresh blood must have woken them.

The vampire responded by reaching down and ripping a length off their no doubt expensive and very fine linen night shirt.

The human's eyes widened. "Uh..."

"Hand."

The human obediently surrendered their hand. They watched in mild astonishment as the vampire made quick work of cleaning and bandaging their hand, using their ruined clothes like an old-fashioned tourniquet.

"Didn't know you knew how to do that," the human mumbled. "You know we have a first aid kit in the bathroom upstairs?"

"A what?"

"A first aid kit. Medicine kit. With bandages and plasters and stuff."

"And yet you were bleeding into your mixing bowl."

"Well, the bathroom's a long way to go dripping blood on your floors."

"Hm."

"I'm sorry I woke you. It's - I'm okay. I really didn't waste any."

"Good. Your blood is precious. How is your hand? Does it hurt?"

"It's okay. I'm okay."

"You need to be more careful."

"I'm sorry."

"You're a fragile thing, you could have taken a finger off."

"Sorry. It won't happen again. I promise."

"Hm." The vampire's sharp gaze flicked over them again.

The human realised, belatedly, that the vampire was still cradling their hand. They flushed. The vampire let go.

"Sit," the vampire ordered. "What are you making? Tell me what to do."

"What?" They were sure they'd only cut their hand, not suffered some form of brain damage that caused hallucinations.

The vampire's eyes narrowed; ever disinclined to repeating themselves.

"Uh..." The human swallowed. "Chop the veg. Put veg in frying pan."

They watched the vampire get to work. It was bizarre. They'd never seen the vampire do anything around the house. Their immortality was a thing of hedonistic cruelties, tempered only by the fact that it was easier to pay someone to take the role of blood bag in the modern age than kidnap them.

"You really don't have to do that for me," they said.

"Are you suggesting that somewhere in the last thousand years I became incapable of chopping vegetables?"

"No. No, of course not."

"Then hold your tongue. I don't pay you to question me or for your opinions. You're a walking blood bag."

"Right. Right, yeah. Sorry."

The vampire made them dinner, following instructions in a way that the human truly had thought them too proud for, as the sun sank slow and pretty beyond the window.

"Thank you," the human said, nonplussed, when the vampire eventually loaded a full dinner plate. They were more nonplussed when the vampire didn't hand it over, though, simply holding a fork up to the human's mouth. "Er...my hand is okay. I can hold cutlery. I know I don't heal vampire fast but..."

"You're questioning me again."

"Right. Sorry." The human accepted the mouthful of food, then another. Their stomach did something weird and flipping beneath the vampire's strange care, their intent focus.

"Good," the vampire murmured.

In the aftermath of dinner, the night black and endless beyond the windows, they stared at each other.

The human's heart pounded. They were all too aware of the fact that the vampire could hear it. All of their normal, comfortable routines felt disrupted somehow.

They wet their abruptly dry lips.

"Don't hurt yourself again, pet," the vampire said abruptly. "That's my job."

Then they were gone.

[everlastingserenitys]

NEXT DOOR DISTRACTION

summ. your perverted next door neighbour who couldn't help but end up inside you one night

pairing. sylus x f!reader cw. perv!sylus, masturbation, sex, fingering, kissing, dry humping, dirty talk, needy!sylus. a/n hello trying tumblr! gonna post my series from ao3 on here haha... no specific order, going with what I like !!

cross-posted from ao3 ;3

Sylus knew he picked the right option, and he wasn't going to back away from it now.

Ever since you moved into the house next to his, he was immediately hooked. Well, the first thing that actually hooked him was your outfit. The way your tiny skirt raised up your body when you bent over, made his cock ache.

Or the way your breasts bounced in a rhythmic movement as you jog from the moving truck, back to your house. Oh how Sylus wanted to see more.

He did offer to help you, but you kindly rejected him, and for some reason, that just made Sylus like you even more.

He was so dazed by you, he believed love at first sight was a thing. And he was going to try everything to win you over, to his bed.

Sylus started to workout outside more often. Usually, every morning he would notice you sitting on your porch and relax in your seat as you watched the view ahead of you, so he took those opportunities to at least try to impress you.

It worked, a little bit.

He would specifically stand somewhere in your sight of view and start his workout, he snuck quick glances at you and noticed your eyes glance away every time he looked at you. On some mornings, you both would have the smallest conversations. And all of them went out as expected.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.”

That was it.

-

But this morning was different.

“Morning” Sylus’ voice echoed through the quiet, bright neighbourhood as he started on his workout.

“Good morning.”

Sylus paused his movements and turned his body towards where you were sitting. He took off his gloves and stepped towards you. “You know, I was thinking…”

“Hm?”

“Spar with me. The invisible man is doing me no good. But don’t worry, I won't go too hard on you.” Sylus directed the large gloves towards you and waited for you to take them.

“Are you sure? Don't you think it's a bit early in the morning for this?” you chuckle awkwardly, instinctively taking the gloves from his hand and getting up from your seat. Sylus chuckled in response and dragged you to the pavement in the front of your house.

“If you don’t like it we could just stop after a bit.”

You shook your head and got ready in position, “let’s start.”

“Let’s do it, sweetie.”

Sylus got in position and mockingly sent the first punch, his fist was flying towards your face at lightning speed, you ducked your head to dodge the attack, but before you could keep balance you stumbled on your feet and fell onto your ass.

A low whistle left his lips and he reached his hands towards you, to help you up.

Sylus’ eyes were everywhere but on yours. His ruby iris averted left and right as he helped you up. You didn't even notice it at all, but after you got up, you patted down your silky pajamas and glanced back up at Sylus, whose eyes were still on your chest. You cleared your throat and he shook his head, looking you in the eye.

You notice his body twitching slightly at the mere second the two of your eyes meet. Sylus shifted away from you and got ready in position. Confused, you just get ready and continue fighting him.

You were winning practically every round, and he totally lied about going easy on you. This man was difficult. But after memorizing his patterns and secret tricks with the little time fighting him, it was way too easy now.

You sent a punch in his direction but you didn’t notice his foot slip in between your legs, and in one step, you fell, again.

This time, on top of him.

You groaned as you felt Sylus’ fingers slip through your hair, he lifted your head from his chest and stared at you with a strained look. Sylus’ hips buck the slightest and that was when you felt his hard-on thrust against your lower abdomen.

You bit back a whine that was about to slip out of your lips and after an awkward second of silence, Sylus quietly apologized and lifted you off of his lap.

After that moment, Sylus immediately rushed back to his place, it wasn’t because he felt embarrassed that he made you fall or any of that, but it was because he felt like his cock was going to burst any second now.

“Shit…” he muttered, slipping his pants down and placing his large hand on his boner. He gave it a few rubs before tucking his hand under his boxers to pull out his searing, hard cock.

Sylus silently scolded himself as his thumb glided on his leaking tip, sending a spark of pleasure rushing through his body.

More fingers wrapped around his length, Sylus grabbed onto the bottom of his shirt and shoved it in his mouth as he stroked quick, intense movements. He closed his eyes and leaned back, thinking about what you looked like back there.

He moaned as he remembered the way your breasts bounced at every punch you sent him, or when you fell on your ass and a little moan slipped out of your lips.

Or when he dry humped you.

A loud groan escaped his lips, he didn't even notice he already came at that thought.

Sylus sighed and rested his head against the wall behind him, letting the shirt slip out of his mouth moments later.

He brought his fingers to his sight and stared at the white mixture coating his long fingers before he headed to the bathroom to clean himself up.

He should totally ask you to spar more often.

Several hours had now passed and Sylus was getting restless each hour. It was way too difficult to think of anything else to get you in his bed. He was contemplating on whether he should just barge in your house and fuck you right then and there but yet again, that would probably not be a good idea.

Sylus sighed and rested his head against the kitchen counter. Even thinking about you was getting him hard, he needed to see you again.

So Sylus got up from his seat and went to the window that was adjacent to your room.

Sylus’ perverted eyes peered through the blinds and he saw your curtains were wide open, and noticed you getting changed into a new outfit.

Great timing, Sylus.

As much as he knew this was wrong, his eyes couldn't help but stay locked on you. The way your fingers glided through the soft fabric bonding with your body, slowly removing them, it was as if you knew he was watching.

Sylus’ breath hitched and he tried to hold back, he was trying so, so hard.

You already had your shirt removed and it was now your pants left.

He peered the blinds wider and continued staring. He needed to see more, more, mo–

Sylus froze in his spot when he saw your eyes make eye contact with his, you couldn't see him, right?

Wrong.

-

You stared at your window, looking at the glowing red iris illuminating through the glass, it was painfully obvious he was staring at you the whole time.

And it got to the point you actually didn’t mind it.

After all the moments of him being a little creep, you kind of enjoyed it. The way he still acts flustered after accidentally making eye contact with you, or how he twitches at the feeling of your skin grazing his, it was obvious he needed more.

Sylus still had his eyes locked onto you, you knew he was waiting for you to take your pants off and he wasn't going to leave the window until you did. But instead of taking them off, you beckon a finger at him.

You had never seen him leave the window so fast.

Seconds later the doorbell rings and you quickly put on your shirt, heading downstairs to open the door.

You open the door and notice Sylus a little out of breath, his eyes stare up and down at your outfit before looking back up at your face.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll make it up to you if that's what you want sweetie.”

You hesitate for a second, intrigued, you agree.

“Fine.”

Sylus chuckled and stepped inside, his footsteps grew louder as he stepped towards you.

Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers glide against your jaw, he looked into your eyes, filled with desperation as he leaned in closer to you.

“May i?”

“Mmh”

He scoffed and captured your lips in an aggressive, needy kiss. Sylus’ tongue shoved into your mouth and tied his tongue with yours. Your tongues intertwined together as he pushed you closer to the stairs.

In a swift movement, he lifted you off of the ground with one arm and carried you up the stairs. While still having his tongue shoved deep into your mouth.

He eventually found the way to your room and he placed you on the bed before pulling away.

Sylus stares at you with a breathless look, he brought his fingers to the hem of your shirt and played with it while his chest heaved heavily.

He was already going insane and going slow was making it worse for him. Sylus slipped his fingers under your shirt, his cold fingers making contact with your warm skin, he needed more of this warmthness.

He removed your shirt and soon, your pants.

You were left completely bare and exposed underneath him. Sylus grinned at the sight, not in a creepy way, more like in a ‘I won’ kind of way. His eyes captured every curve and perfection of your body, and he was already addicted.

His fingers slid down your stomach and made their way to your soaking entrance. He rubbed small circles on your clit, making gasps and quiet moans escape out of your lips, he needed to hear more than that.

A finger slid in your dripping cunt and Sylus groaned as he pulled down his pants. His cock twitched at the feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers. He couldn't wait any longer, he pulled his fingers out, and aligned his tip with your dripping entrance.

“Ready?”

“mh–mhhh?!”

Sylus continued thrusting his length deep inside you, his fingers held onto your hips and he rocks himself back and forth, back and forth…

“You like that? Hm?”

“Yes! It's sooo good.. more please!”

“More? Shouldn’t I be asking that?”

Sylus’ rhythmic thrusts were interrupted with desire blinding his eyes, he didn't even care how quick he was going anymore. He grabbed onto your ankles and lifted your legs over his shoulders.

“You're squeezing me so tight..hah.. lift your hips for me, sweetie.”

You obey and a small praise escapes his lips, you moan in response and beg to release already.

“Already? Dirty girl.”

“S-says you!” you huff and thrust yourself deeper in him.

“You’re the one thrusting yourself in my cock, and I'm the dirty one?”

“I'm gonna cum..please” you gasp, shutting your eyes as you continue driving yourself in him, Sylus groaned in response as his grip tightened around you. With a breathless moan, you couldn't hold it in anymore, a stream of hot, wet cum pooled out of your hole as Sylus still had his cock buried into you.

But that didn't stop him from continuing. Sylus only pulled out for a second, just to watch the dirty mess you made, pour out of you and he eventually put his tip back against your drooling cunt.

A wave of pleasure spiked through you as Sylus’ cock slicked your cum in and out of you, making a huge mess on the bed.

“Ya hear that? You’re taking me in so good…mgh yes…”

“Sylus!”

“I’m here, keep calling my name, I'm close.” he moaned.

“Sylus! Sylus! Sy–”

With one final thrust a spike of pleasure washed through you as the warm white mixture spurted inside your body, you froze in shock and Sylus pulled out of you, plopping on top of you, absolutely breathless.

“Thank you, neighbour.” he chuckled against your neck, planting small kisses along it. You sigh and ruffle his hair, attempting to get up but your legs were aching.

“You’re welcome, creep. Let's get cleaned up.”

“Mhmm”

part 2 of untamed desires | sylus -> next work

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who almost never picks up your daughter on time for their weekends together, but always promises to make it up with Daddy-Daughter dates, mostly to the mall or teaparties at home.

"Daddy got busy this weekend, pretty girl... But I promise we can have a tea party with Mr. Dino as soon as I see you, alright?"

That was almost always his excuse when you'd call and put your little girl on the line with him.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who almost never has child support in on time, even though it's a relatively low amount since you decided to have a bit of mercy on him in court.

"Look, I'll get it to you as soon as I can, doll. Just got a little sidetracked this week with a few jobs."

The same thing he always said when the $80 for the week was due. But you always caved and gave him a few extra days, even if you knew it was because he blew it on new gear for his patrols and missions.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who won't let your daughter come over to his apartment right after a mission because he has to lay low and doesn't want to put her in danger.

"Daddy went on a last minute trip, baby girl... I promise he'll take you the next time he goes somewhere, okay?"

The same promise you always made when she gave you those doe eyes and got teary over missing Jason after a long mission

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you have to plan sleepovers with because they almost always happen to end up on one of his weekends.

"As long as she's happy, it's fine. Can I pick her up on Monday? I can ask B for the night off and drop her off at daycare in the morning."

Jason tries his hardest not to show just how hurt he is whenever his daughter and you have to cancel plans on him, but you see right through it every time.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you invite over for a couple of drinks on the nights your gorgeous girl is out for a sleepover at a friend's or your family's.

"You didn't have to invite me over, y'know... I'm fine on my own, really. But I appreciate it."

His famous last words before the both of you end up tipsy and handsy with eachother for the rest of the night.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who you're not really sure just how you ended up underneath after only a few drinks and a friendly chat.

"Look at how that tight pussy pulls me in... Almost like you're begging for another baby. That what you want, gorgeous? Me to fill you with another one of my babies?"

He still watches you take a Plan B the next morning, though. Neither of you can handle another child just yet, especially while just hooking up after months of minimal contact.

BabyDaddy! Jason Todd who falls for you all over again after a few of those nights filled with drinking and the sound of skin on skin.

"Thanks for inviting me over, sweetheart... I'm sorry if I overstayed my welcome."

Of course he didn't. You knew exactly what would happen as soon as your daughter asked to go to a sleepover, and you didn't regret it one bit.

Maybe Jason wasn't so bad, after all.

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