#x: kissed by the sun and bitten by the moon

[thedeadthree]

🦢🐺 KISSED BY THE SUN AND BITTEN BY THE MOON.

logan belongs to the dear @risingsh0t ✧ | template by the lovely @jacobseed ✧ | coloring by @notoriousaesthetics ✧ | doodles ✧ | icons ✧

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・767 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, established relationship, they're in love your honor, pt. 2 of me being very normal about paris lix

𝟬𝟮:𝟮𝟭 — The stars hang over your heads like rice wine dripping into a navy basin. Paris sprawls over your shoulders like a stretching sphinx. Yet the world, in all its rare, tranquil beauty, does not exist.

Nothing exists except for you. You, with your hood pulled over your head and the drawstrings tightened so the fabric scrunches around your wind-bitten cheeks. You, with a few strands of hair escaping from the cotton ring, catching on your eyelashes as they flutter, slipping between your lips as you speak. You, you, you.

Sometimes, Felix experiences something strange. It happened when you walked into the kitchen with puffy eyes and terrible posture, a spot of toothpaste on your chin. It happened at the sight of the warm smile you gave the barista as you ordered at your favorite cafe. It happened when he found you faceplanted into your keyboard at 3 A.M., the last fifteen pages of your research paper comprising nothing but the letter ‘g.’

And it happens now, as you recount the embarrassing situation you found yourself in that afternoon, sporting a smile that splits your face into two. Not down the middle, but slightly off to the side, the way it does when you’re really laughing.

Cue the telltale signs: an explosive blossoming in his chest, a mounting tightness in his throat, a feeling like he’s been ripped out of his body and, from a distance, finally recognizes himself for what he is.

A mortal man tasked to contain the galaxy that is his love, every sun and moon, every asteroid, every scrap of space debris belonging to you.

How he hasn’t yet burst at the seams is beyond him.

“I complimented the cab driver’s ass,” you say.

He blinks at you. “What?”

“I was trying to—”

You’re overcome by a breathless giggle, your interlocked hands swinging between your bodies.

“I was trying to thank him. Merci beaucoup, right? And then he looks at me like I’m crazy and drives away, and then it hits me.”

“Oh.” Felix says, and he, too, starts to smile, his mirth melting his face like a spreading flame. “Oh, no.”

“Merci beau cul,” you sigh. “I told him merci beau cul.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“A Freudian slip?”

“No wa—”

Your expression goes suddenly contemplative.

“Maybe, actually.”

His bark of laughter echoes around the empty grounds, accompanied with your insistence of you should’ve seen that thing, babe. He takes your word for it.

Your jetlagged adventure reaches climax some ten minutes later. You let go of Felix’s hand to run the rest of the distance, heels kicking up puffs of dust. The land silhouette sinks away, replaced by golden speckles that trickle into his field of vision until they’re all he can see.

At the hill’s pinnacle, you stand in silence. The strands of hair floating around you prior now thrash in the wintry winds, and you’ve swapped your wild grin for a stupefied gape. Your eyes glisten like mirror lakes, the city before you reflected in the pools of your pupils, cordoned within the shores of their lids.

There it is again. That familiar feeling of being torn away, of being crushed by the tonnage of his amour. He opens his mouth because he needs to, because he’ll burst at the seams if he doesn’t, just barely keeping the tremble in his voice at bay. 

“Can I take a picture of you?”

You look at him, confused.

“Only me?” He nods, and you hesitate. “Why?”

“Just trust me.”

And you do, with everything in you.

You turn your back to the nightscape. He positions himself a few feet away and slots his eye against the viewfinder. The lighting does you no favors with how it plunges you into shadow; you do Paris no favors with the radiance of your smile. Click.

Soonafter, you drift back to his side, plant a soft kiss to his cheek. He gazes at the live preview without a word, clutching his camera as tightly as if it's a piece of a shooting star.

Gently, you dust a finger beneath his chin. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, discovers your face meager centimeters away.

You will never know what you do to Felix, not to the fullest extent. But there are times, he thinks, when you have your suspicions, and this is one of them.

“You okay?” You whisper, your hand lifting to the curve of his cheek, and he slides his own around your wrist, the plush of his thumb nestling over your pulse. 

“Yes,” he whispers back, an understatement of prodigious proportions.

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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.

[thefanbasewhore]

Halloween Special - Bitten. 👻🕸️

pairing: Hyunjin x female reader

summary: your boyfriend bites you for the first time which causes him to go into a biting frenzy.

content: s!mut, biting, blood play, p in v, vampire Hyunjin

a/n: next up werewolf chan

Hyunjin is much like the moon. He comes and goes, sometimes it may be just a quick moment, much like a crescent or in your face and bright just a full moon but he always finds himself seeking comfort in the warmth of skin against his own.

It's been a month since he revealed his identity to you. He was hesitant at first, but you are no fool. If it wasn't his smooth pale skin and amber eyes that gave him away; it was definitely when you found him fangs deep inside a women's neck.

Ever since that day all he's thought about is you. The only person he could be his true self but truth be told he was smitten the moment he met you.

As he climbs through the window, a chilly breeze follows. Your body reacts almost instantly, small bumps forming against your skin as he closes it tightly.

Sound asleep you don't notice the new presence. It's usually like this, he sneaks in and curls into you. Morning comes before you realize he's there, the curtains pulled tightly to block the sunlight confirm his presence before your fingers find his hair.

But it's early - too early for him to be here. The sun just took its rest nearly minutes ago.

You look so cute. Silently sleeping, curled into the satin pillow. A pajama shirt with cherries, button down to reveal just enough of your round breast and matching shorts, your cute little pink panties pepping through. He sighs softly, just the sight makes Hyunjin hard.

Without a second thought he is spooning you from behind, rutting his semi hard cock against your ass.

"Petal, wake up beautiful." His voice is so soft as it whispers against your skin. "Missed you so much."

His hips grind against your clothed core as he lets out a pathetic whine. Needy and wanting attention as he kisses your lazy lips. "Babyyyy."

His lips against your neck are nothing new, pressing and sucking softly. Finally your eyes flutter, soft lashes tickling his skin. "Hi, Darlin'."

"Hi, you're here early. I was trying to stay up."

"Looked so cute sleeping." He grinds his hips once again before rolling to change the position. Hovering over you, eyes on yours with his sweet smirk. "Got me so hard."

The soft moan of his name is what makes him snap, pressing his mouth against your neck. He swore he wouldn't feed from you for the pure fact that he was afraid he would go too far but it's been days since he's last fed.

Hyunjin's fingers press into the fat of your hip, no doubt blanching the skin underneath as he moves his hard cock over your clothed clit once again. He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate on how good he's feeling but the pesky sound of blood running through your jugular makes his teeth retraction, popping out from his gums. He groans, your blood smells so good.

He can't think - you take over all his senses. Arousal seeps from you, the smell high in the air making him moan against your skin. "Darling, petal, god." He groans.

When his teeth puncture your skin it makes you yelp in surprise. He's never drank from you before, always going on about the consequences, etc. He always jokes about it when it comes up, claiming he's already too obsessed with you if he drinks your blood you'll have to marry and stay his forever.

But with his teeth buried in you, sucking softly as you fight against him, pushing against his chest to create some distance but you have nothing on his supernatural strength.

"Hyunjin!" You hiss, feeling the warmth of the blood trail that follows down your neck and into the valley of your breast, which your shirt was already split open from his wondering hands.

What you least expected was the warm coil that formed inside your stomach. Suddenly you feel hot, forehead burning and dizziness taking over at the loss of blood. The dark haired man never stopped moving his hips against your own - clit throbbing against the material of your pajama pants before the stimulation became too much. Finally the squirming of your orgaism breaks him from his trance.

"Fuck," forehead resting against your own as he breaths heavily, "Did you just come from that? You dirty, dirty girl."

Blushing under his stare but it's cut short as his tongue follows the trail of blood, licking the thick liquid, nimble fingers pushing your shirt sleeves over your shoulder and sliding it down the length of your arms before throwing it across the room.

He licks up the remaining, tongue finding the bud of your leg nipple and sucking softly. He pulls away and one hand cups the flesh gently, "Look at this, you're loving it baby girl, do you like me bittingyou? I'll bite you some more honey."

His teeth puncture the skin of your right tit, breaking the skin and suckling every ounce he can manage. There's something strange about it, it's painful but at the same time you have never felt such pleasure. The goosebumps are instant as you shiver underneath him.

"Are you okay baby?" His hand moving the hair from your forehead. To be honest, you're a little dizzy from the loss of blood but you nod in agreement. "I didn't take to much, right?"

"M okay." You mumble against the shell of his ear.

"Okay, honey. Can I put it in? I'm so hard." You nod in consent as his long fingers pull at your shorts.

He doesn't even need to warm you up. Between the stickiness of your last two orgasms and his own leaking wetness.

Hyunjin doesn't offer a warning, the sudden feeling of his heavy cock is a burning but pleasure able stretch that causes a shriek to rip through your swollen lips.

His eyes roll back into his head as your pussy pretty much sucks his cock up inch by inch. Two cold fingers tease the bundle of nerves and rub circular motions as he sinks every inch of his cock until he’s nestled so deep you feel him in your stomach. The delicious burn makes you lightheaded, so full of him it’s hard to form words.

You curses under your breath but he barely notices, eyes fixated on the filthy sight of him stuffed so deep inside you. Hips against hips as he tries to press the rest but the intrusion sends sparks up your spine. He stills, eyes finding yours for one last time before testing the waters with a deep, sensational thrust.

The squeal that falls from your lips is one of pleasure and pain but straight up sinful and he groans on his own accord as your cunt cleches around his throbbing cock.

"Such a tight pussy, honey. Did she miss me?"

It's more retoric as his hips snap faster and faster. Watching his fat cock disappearing and reappearing from your silky cunt over and over again. The sounds that fill the room are mixes of Hyunjins and yours followed by the slapping skin and squelches of your leaking juices. Pleasure tingles up his spine every time he hits that spot that makes your vision blur and drool gather at the corner of your lips.

"Pretty girl," he presses a gentle kiss against the corner of your lips. "So pretty."

Just like that, his legs begin to shake. Covered in your slick as your own body erupts with heat. Stomach aching with the familar feeling of incoming relief. With every push of his hips come deep, rough strokes that hit that spot that makes your stomach ache.

He loves the sounds you make, the quiet but beautiful moans. The way his name is whined and permanently on your tongue. His hips continue rolling as he watches your pussy drip into the sheets. It smears his abdomen, leaks down his thighs following the dripping blood from your neck.

Back arching off the mat, pushing him deeper inside of you, if that’s even possible. A hand rest against the small of your back giving him a better angle to continue to fuck you senseless. “Hyun! oh, so fucking good!“

Half crescent form from the pressure of his nails digging into the flesh of your hip as you whine. “I’m so close!”

The whine has him groaning with relief feeling his own balls tighten at the words. “Baby, I have to cum. Can I bite you, will you be okay?"

The smell of your blood is intoxicating as his teeth rub against the other side of your neck.

“Can I, baby?" He visibly chokes as another wave of heat warms his belly.

The moment his teeth break through your skin, your orgasm hits like a truck - clenching around him so hard that his hips sputter but he continues to drive his dock so deep inside of you that your legs begin to shake.

He hits a spot so deep and explodes, lining his thick ropes of cum into your pussy and stuffs you to the brink. There’s so much as it drips from where the two are still connected but he doesn’t dare move. He pulls away, blood smeared across his lips as he presses his wet lips to your cheek.

"You taste so good baby." But the moment he looks up, his eyes widen. Both his hands hold your cheeks to keep your head from falling back. Eyes hooded as the dizziness takes over you.

"Shit, Can you hear me? I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to take too much, you should have said something." He's frantically taking his wrist and breaking the skin with his teeth, "Drink, baby. I took too much."

"'m okay." You try with all your strength to push his arm away but he's not having it.

"Drink." Your lips wrap around his skin and suck softly to taste the metallic liquid. "Don't ever do that again, tell me if it's too much."

"Sorry, H." You snuggle yourself into his chest as he brings you closer.

He presses a gentle kiss against your forehead as he cleans the mix of blood and spit from your skin. "Go to sleep, angel. I will make you breakfast when you wake up. My blood will help but you need to rest."

"I'm okay."

"Stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you." He burries his head into your hair before pressing a kiss against the shell of your ear. "Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams."

"Night, baby."

[glassgulls]

Sweet Conversations

Fandom: Lord Of The Rings Return of the King

Pairing: Haldir x fem!reader

Warnings: Mutual pining, lots of kissing some not very innocent. Nothing explicit but please be advised this spicier than general audience.

Summary: A chance conversation leads to a simple game with the sweetest of prizes.

Comments: This was inspired by this prompt list "let me teach you what a real kiss is". The thought of Haldir saying that to me seems to have short circuited my brain as this was supposed to be a drabble but ran away from me, hopefully not to the detriment of the piece. I also would very much like to be chased down by Haldir. I have no chill.

Word count: 5, 359

Your eyes were fluttered closed as thumbs smoothed over your cheek bones. The strong hands that are cupping your face so tenderly tilt it up slightly. Your parted lips are trembling as the whisper of breath fans over your face. 

You feel the shift of the body in front of you as they press closer, a nose nuzzles against your cheek and you whimper softly as chapped lips brush the corner of your own.

“Haldir.” You plead softly, your hands reach up and curl your fingers into his tunic, breath catching in anticipation of his touch. 

His voice was a low purr as he speaks your name, making you quiver. He has barely touched you but your heart is thundering in your chest you're sure Haldir's sharp ears can hear it. 

Your fingers grip his clothing, holding on to try to ground you in the moment. His lips trailed up to press softly against your temple.

His name tumbles from your lips like a plea, a prayer. Let him have mercy on you and finally kiss you like he had promised.

"Let me teach you what a real kiss is." The Marchwarden had stated earlier. Moving slowly closer into your personal space. The apex predator closing in on his cornered prey. 

His steps had been slow and cautious, always giving you time to refuse but you hadn't. You had taken a step back so your back was flush with one of the decorated columns in this secluded vista. Back arching slightly to bend your body towards him. Welcoming his approach, encouraging him closer, a luring siren. No one would pass by at this time of evening. It was why you had run here, leading Haldir on a merry chase so you two could finally be alone. 

Your heart had been full of courage then, all breathy laughs and gasps as you had weaved around the various areas of Lórien. Turning every now and then to make sure he was still there and thrilled to see the glimpse of him moving with an unhurried pace behind. But always within sight, once or twice within grasp but had not reached out. You knew he just wanted you to know that he could finish this in a moment. It was sheer indulgence on his part or perhaps he was just looking to see you finally tired out and close in with ease. 

You had giggled and squealed as you turned a corner to see him already there leaning on a wall with a ghost of a smile and had danced away to change direction. You knew your destination, you were positive that Haldir also knew but was corralling you along more quieter routes, neither of you wanted anyone disturbing your game.

You had paused at a small ornamental garden with a delicate fountain in the centre with flowers of heady scents planted in a careful pattern around the area. The beautiful statue holding a vase that was pouring gurgling waters in the centre shone in the early moonlight. Swiftly hiding behind the fountain you placed a hand on your chest to catch your breath, your heart beating frantically under your touch and you let your eyes flutter closed for a second to try to calm its frantic pace and listen for any approaching noise. 

Silence.

Opening your eyes you had caught the full moon gloriously starting its climb across the night sky. It’s silver visage reminding you of the blue eyes of your pursuer. A sharp blue under the sun but at night a brilliant flash of quicksilver whenever your gazes met. 

You had bitten your lip at the flash of memory as Haldir had openly stared at you at the party earlier in honour of you and companions. The flush of alcohol in your system had made you more playful than usual as you had joined in on the teasing chatter of your companions. 

“Who was your best kiss?” 

It had made you frown and dip your head down as the others had whispered the lurid details of the treasured moments. But when it had been your turn you had only sighed in melancholy. 

“I’ve never-” You had started and then Pippin had jumped in spluttering his drink everywhere.

“You’ve never been kissed?!” His shrill tone making people turn towards your group.

“No, of course I have!” You shouted a little too loudly and dropped your voice low again in a conspiratorial whisper. “They’ve just been nothing to write home about.” You shrugged and your gaze had flicked up to see a certain elf watching your group, watching you with a look that had made you suck on your lower lip and heat rush to your face. 

You recognised him of course, Haldir the Marchwarden of Lorien. He who had escorted you and your group through the forest now dressed tonight in a more casual tunic and leggings of grey and green. Haldir who had approached you later to ask your name and gave you a tour of the main part of the beautiful Elven city. Haldir that you now had nightly dreams about driving him quite mad with desire and shaking his famous composure.

Haldir who had clearly heard the drunken conversation and was pinning you where you stood with his blue eyes. Perhaps you were not the only one who was dreaming of less than innocent thoughts. 

You had excused yourself to get another drink and while at the serving table you had felt a presence at your elbow. You knew who it would be immediately. After all, being in your every waking and dreaming thought had made you hyper away of him.

“Marchwarden.” You spoke and let your gaze flick to him. He had already grabbed the bottle you were reaching for and offering to pour you a drink. His voice was calm and quiet as he spoke your name. Placing the bottle back down again you took a small sip and let your eyelashes flutter up at him, noticing the way his jaw clenched at the action.

“I couldn't help overhear your conversation from before.” He spoke with such a blase tone you had a hard time reconciling it with the way his fingers tightened around the bottle, knuckles going white when you had let your tongue peek out to chase the wine on your lips.

“Did you wish to contribute to the conversation?” You had asked in a careful tone and moved closer to him. Purposely brushing against his arm to reach for a plate of strawberries and smiling in relief at the way his body shivered at the contact. 

"Not with the rest of your companions, no.” He stated simply in a low tone that seemed to suggest a hint of collusion. An air of secrecy between you and him. The implications of that made you hum in excited satisfaction and gaze up at him. Girlish fancy bubbling up in you at the prospect that you and the handsome ellon would share something together. You finish the wine in your glass and delicately place it down.

Biting into the strawberry you couldn't help the sigh of content at its sweet taste and looked to the side as if deep in thought.

“Then perhaps it is something you would like to converse about somewhere more quiet?” You felt the low rumble of agreement rather than with your ear, it makes you wonder if he takes it for granted that you don’t have the sharp hearing of him and his kin.

“If that would please you, my lady.” He says, looking over the party with an aching parody of drollness that it makes you giggle under your breath. 

The ellon takes a strawberry also and lets his gaze flick back to you while taking a small bite from it. There’s a sizzle of tension between you both, hot and heavy like before a thunderstorm. Feeling the brave courage of the wine in your veins you scan the room to make sure there was no audience to you and Haldir's little game. 

Seeing no spectators you arched an eyebrow and plucked the strawberry from his hand and let it tap at your bottom lip a second before sinking your teeth into it and letting the juice almost fall from your lips. Haldir had watched you with rapt attention the whole time, made you revel in the dark cast of his brilliant blue eyes. Pupils swallowing the iris till they drowned the blue.

“Very well, I’m going outside to take some air.” You announced to him, your voice thick with desire before brushing past him. A trail of fingertips against his hand still by his side you had walked over to your friends and told them you were going to retire to your rooms and sauntered out fully aware you were being watched.

Outside you had taken a deep breath and tried to cool the blistering heat of want that sat under your skin. The drink, you imagine, was not the wisest choice to do while this clearly besotted with a near stranger.

Walking to the little railing that overlooked the city below you stopped, resting your hands on it. The sound of a footstep approached from behind made you smile and you resisted the urge to turn to them as they stood a hair's breadth away.

“Marchwarden.” You said again and risked a glance at him. He was staring below with a tint to his cheeks that you assumed was from the heat of the party inside.

“Haldir,” He corrected softly, then ducked his head down a moment and gave a small cough. “While we’re alone you may call me by my name.” Haldir paused. "If you should desire." He gave the correction as if he wasn't completely convinced of your intentions.

"I greatly desire that Haldir.” You breathed and gave a thrilled grin. The ellon beside you tightened his grip on the railing when you had spoken his name so you tried it again. Letting it draw from your lips slowly and deliciously, tasting it on your tongue. 

“You wished to discuss something with me, my lady?” Haldir spoke through gritted teeth. You tutted and tilted your head at him.

“You should call me by my name also Haldir like we are friends.” You chided him and watched as his knuckles went white gripping the railing.

“You wish, we should be friends?” He muttered quietly and you dropped the teasing smile from your face.

“No.” You confessed with the groan of yearning you had harboured for the ellon who stood next to you.

“Good,” He whispered with what seemed like a relieved exhale. You let your hand move closer to his own on the railing, just a soft brush of the tips of your fingertips had him shuddering. “You are playing a dangerous game.” Haldir let out with a soft growl like distant thunder. The rumble made you shiver and your toes curled at the forbidden images it stirred in you. 

“If it’s a game you want to play I shall oblige you Haldir,” You had teased softly letting the evening breeze carry your voice away. 

Pulling away from the railing Haldir had followed the movement with a puzzled expression. Standing there with your hands clasped behind your back you felt the breeze flutter the skirt of your dress as you looked at the ellon with liquid courage in your belly.

“We can continue our conversation after.” You finished and attempted a coy smile but it shrank when he stood and loomed over you. A hot flame of unbridled lust hit you, licked up your spine at the sheer presence Haldir had. 

“And what is the game?” Haldir asked, tilting his head and with a curious voice.

"We can continue once you catch me." You breathed rising up and down slightly on your tiptoes. Haldir's stance changed, the curious puzzlement shifted into a coiled hunch. His head tilted again and it made you think of the large beasts in the forest. Eyes quick and teeth sharp ready to chase down and strike. 

You ran your tongue over one of your canine teeth. A show of bravado, a taste of your intent, a glimpse who you really were. You were no child to tease and run. You were a woman who knew what she wanted and more than capable of biting back. 

Haldir stands completely still and poised, awaiting the rules of the game. The only glimpse of emotion was that the ellon  swallowed hard at your action, his adam's apple bobbing.

"What prize do I win when I catch you?" Haldir asked and you know your own eyes are mirroring his own dilated with desire.

"Perhaps you shall be able to give me the kiss I shall always think of." You responded sweetly and his lips curled for a split second.

"I accept," He stated calmly without hesitation. "I will teach you what a real kiss is." He promised.

You can't help the rush of excitement, the arousal his gaze ignites in you as he takes one step forward. 

Taking one step back you had bitten your lip to stop the gasping giggle of nerves in your chest. He was still staring, unblinking, muscles clearly bunched and coiled even under the loose tunic. Broad shoulders rolled with anticipation and, Eru, that made you feverish with want. 

"Will you grant me a head start Marchwarden?" You ask breathely and Haldir's unwavering stare slowly blinks. Like he's engrained the sight of you behind his eyes. He gave a soft hum of acknowledgement and nod of his head.

Then with a slight curtsy and cocky grin you turned on your heel and sprinted into the evening.

That was how you had ended up hiding behind the fountain. Your anticipation of his promised kiss made you almost falter in your steps so he would finally catch you. But you would play this game, race to the finish line and win your prize. 

A light step stirred from behind and you held your breath. You had taken a peek from your hiding spot and gasped when long strong fingers were curled on the corner of the fountain behind you. The index finger tapped twice before sliding to hide again. You failed to hold back a giggle escaping you and strained your ears to pinpoint his next move. Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, fingers gripped your skirts in readiness to bolt again. 

A flash of blond hair from your right and you fled yelping and laughing. Reaching the other side of the garden you turn and see Haldir where you had been hiding, his hand on the spot where your body had been seeming to memorise the warmth your body had been. He looked up to see you there and there's a look of such longing that it knocked the breath from you. The urge to run to him filled your bones, thrummed in your veins, choking off your breath.

Instead you had given him a smile, brimming with your own yearning, your desperate need. There had been a long moment when you both stood there trying to convey to one another your heart's desire.

After a heartbeat Haldir stood straight again and smirked, alerting you immediately. Maintaining eye contact he made a deliberate step forward. Tensing up you gave another squeak of excitement and bounded off into the dark. 

Running, the night air whipped around you as you weaved through the familiar paths. Your feet made light work as you neared the end goal, your final destination.

Moonlight suddenly enveloped you as you reached the end goal. You had seen this remote spot in an earlier visit with your handsome tour guide. A small garden with columns surrounding a bench with sweet scented roses. 

Stopping in the garden close to one of the columns you spun around, your dress swirling at your waist. Behind in the dark of the pathway you caught a glimpse of silver hair, raising a hand to your chest you try to calm your chittering nerves.

Slowly, step by step Haldir crept into the garden. You were clearly reminded of who he is, what he is, Marchwarden and guardian of this place. Lifetimes trained to defend, a sentinel of silent deadliness. A hunter who now had his eyes trained on you. 

You fail to suppress the shudder that goes through you, goosebumps rippling across your skin as you finally make eye contact with him. Shadows gave way, falling from him, as Haldir was finally fully bathed in moonlight. 

He approached slowly, seeming to sense the excitement in you. Whether the ellon wanted to make certain you were still sure of your earlier intent or perhaps it was in his nature as a hunter to approach his prey with caution? A cornered animal is at its most dangerous then after all.

So with that you lifted your chin up and taken another step back to feel the reassuring presence of the stone column behind you. Your eyes never strayed from the ellon coming towards you, the thundering in your chest is now not because of the chase. Haldir tilted his head again and paused.

"You give up?" He asked, curious and almost disappointed that you had stopped.

"We will be alone here, yes?" You counter and Haldir nods, blinking slowly.

"No one visits here at this time." He confirms and you relaxed against the column.

"Good," Your voice was barely a whisper as you threw him a reassuring smile. "No one to interrupt our discussion." You finished grinning at him.

Haldir hovered a little closer and gave a little laugh.

"You are very different." He said and moved into your personal space. Tilting your head back to keep his gaze you pouted a little.

"Is that bad?" You asked.

"No," he breathed and let one arm lean on the column you rested on. Leaning down he crowds in on you, and your breath quickened. You could smell his scent, wild and fresh like the forest surrounding this haven. 

"No, living as long as I have, different, should be celebrated." He explained moving to bring his lips to your ear, his nose traced the shell of it. The tremble that it elicits causes you to bite your lip with a catch of breath. 

"Will you claim your prize?" You ask hoarsely, your eyelashes fluttered as he pressed closer. Tilting your head again you let your lips brush against the alluring column of Haldir's neck. Your mouth close enough to his skin you could taste him on your lips. He hummed deeply in his chest, the vibrations rumbled through you both. 

"Soon." He promised his breath against your ear making you whimper. "I will teach you what a real kiss is."

Haldir shifted his body and with a little trepidation ran his hands along your jaw. You let your eyes open to see his gaze studying you. Those impossible blue, now sliver regarding you closely, to gauge any discomfort on your part. 

Raising your own hands you let them rest on his, your thumbs stroking against the battle  scarred skin of his. Through parted lips you darted your tongue out to wet them and couldn't help the sense of satisfaction at his sharp intake of breath at your action. 

"You tease me." He muttered in an accusatory tone.

"I don't know what you mean Marchwarden." Your laugh is an indecent purr. 

His eyes roll white a moment at the way you address him as a violent tremble shaked him. When Haldir looks at you again the tease in you curls up as his gaze ripped through you, stripping you bare to bone. Naked and vulnerable under the watchful moon, those hunters' eyes are almost black. 

A small ancestral part of you hisses danger to you. Run, run, little thing before you get gobbled up, consumed in one bite.

Another grin tugs your lips, showing teeth wide and bright. You're no little mouse to hide, you have your own claws, your own hunger. Haldir's lips twitch then curl into a small smile before he whispers your name. Soft like velvet across your skin, a dark caress that fills your mind, that has you close your eyes to savour the sensation.

The adrenaline is a heady concoction with the earlier wine, feeling daring you move your hands from his and let them rest on Haldirs chest. Your fingers smoothed over the hard defined muscle under his loose tunic. 

The ellons own had moved to tilt your face up, calloused worn thumbs swept over your cheekbones. Haldir's name rolled off your tongue as it always did in your dreams of him, full of want and longing. It felt strange to say it aloud, sacrilegious to be able to speak it so. This perfect being you had fantasised about was now holding you, caressing you like he had dreamed of this also.

The scent of roses clung to his skin as you both stood curled around each other. Neither wanting it to end, let the night hold you like this forever and that is how you had stayed. Haldir pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, eyelids and brow. You grew more feverish and whimpered for him to finally bestow the finishing blow and kiss you fully.

Your fingers tangle in his tunic dragging him close, loathed to let any space between you both. 

Haldir sings your name and you open your eyes to see him watching you. There's a wrinkle in his brow, a tension to his shoulders as a hand moves to cup your jaw. Sweeping your hands you curl them around his neck and let your nails drag softly against his skin. He seems nervous, or as close to an approximation to it that you can tell. It's a sharp contrast from his usual stoic demeanour. 

Silken hair cascades over your fingers, like silver moonlight. Curling your fingers through it you ventured this was as close as to holding starlight, it's utterly bewitching. The fingers that still brush softly at the nape of Haldir's neck dip tantalising below the neck of his tunic. There's a hint of that bulk of muscle shifting again, like the roll of thunder, a force of nature. 

The fluttering if your heart beats out a frantic tattoo as Haldir's arms wrap around you. It's with a delicate care, testing your boundaries when you feel his fingers stroke your waist. A soft gasp escapes you as his free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, strong fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs your heads back exposing your neck. 

Haldir's name chokes out your dry throat, when his breath fans across your pulse point, his nose nuzzling just under your ear. A whimper reverberates through you at plush lips pressed against your neck, the sensation as they made a slow trail along to your jugular and the fingers in your hair strong and insistent to keep you in place make you giddy.

Instinctively drag your nails along the perfect skin under your fingertips making Haldir groan softly. Your reward is the sharp scrape of his teeth that rips a sound from you that borders on animalistic. 

Haldir presses soft open mouthed kisses in a soothing gesture but it's too late for you. The feverish dizziness consumes you, shaking you to the core. Heady intoxication from wine is a poor comparison to the way your blood sings in your veins under his touch. You hold Haldir tight to you, convinced you can both stay like this forever, drunk on each other under the moon.

The fingers on your waist splay out, the searing heat of them surely branding you. Haldir nips at your throat again letting out a low pitched moan that you answer with your own. He must be leaving marks that a deep animalistic part of you craves. Dipping your fingers under the neck of his tunic again you claw at Haldir making him grunt and press you hard against the column. 

Arching against him you give a keening cry and eyes roll in your head at a hot sensation on your skin. A questing tongue flicking and dragging against your neck tasting you, his lips moving higher to your ear.

Haldir's nose nuzzles against you again, his own breath hurried as his fingers tighten on you. There's a sense of proud accomplishment that you of all people have caused this transformation in the Marchwarden. He's whispering in a low purr words you can't understand but the tone you can, it mirrors your own gasping pleas of want. 

"Please." You beg with no mind to your pride. Haldir groans low in his throat and the fingers on your waist disappear but before you mourn their loss you feel them again on your jaw. Haldir's thumb presses on your bottom lip and you instinctively nip and lick at it. A shudder rips through the ellon wrapped around you at your action.

The fingers on your jaw tighten for a second before twisting your face to his own. His lips are so close to your own you feel his panting breath, the heat of his already kiss swollen lips. Opening your eyes you look at him with a teary gaze, unable to hide the sheer desperation in them. 

Haldir meets your gaze with dark eyes, pupils blown wide.

"Haldir," you groan. "Please have pity on me." His eyes dip to your lips as you lick them.

"Yes meleth nin," Haldir's usual calm composed voice now choked out and gruff. "I shall take pity on us both." He stated.

Giving a rattled breath your eyes flutter close as Haldir presses his lips to your own, you both sigh in sated anticipation. His kiss is a lingering taste to savour you as he nips and sucks at your plush lips. Long and careful movements that unravel you with precision. Nothing can compare to this, your dreams and fantasies are poor fare to the reality. 

With your soft hiccups and moans Haldir's resolve starts to waver. What started out as a soft press of lips quickly evolves into a messy clash of teeth and tongue. Your fingers in Haldir's hair tug insistently, a warning not to stop. Haldir grunts and his fingers on your jaw near the border on bruising, but you have no mind to care. You'll wear them and his other marks with quiet pride.

Sliding your tongue against Haldir's you gasp which Haldir swiftly swallows. Sucking on his bottom lips causes a growl from the Marchwarden that makes your toes curl before he dives back in at you again. 

His ministrations make you reel, like a leaf in a storm whipped around. Hypoxia bleeds into your vision as you shiver and moan, Haldir stealing your breath. You pull away a moment and gulp air inelegantly, your hand not trapped in Haldir's hair cups his jaw, then move to trace his swollen lips to keep contact with him. 

Haldir presses soft kisses to your fingertips and when he sees you have your breath returned pushes past your hand to claim your lips again. Your fingers twitch and grapple to find purchase in Haldir's onslaught. 

You finally settle on his jaw again letting them flutter up to trace his ears. The reaction is visceral, violent shivers rocks through Haldir as he moans loudly. His chest heaves against your own as you meld into one another. Another desperate grapple at one another ensues to conquer, to consume the other, to become one.

Before you can press this advantage Haldir pulls away abruptly causing you to fall forward into him. He pulls you against his chest, letting you catch your breath. 

Tilting your head up you look to him confused but he's looking away into the darkness of the corridors beyond.

"Someone was approaching," he says softly, his fingers rubbing softly at the base of your head. You let your head rest against his chest, tucked safely under his chin. Words are beyond you as you try to reclaim your wits again but sure you're punch drunk. 

"It is getting late, perhaps we should continue our conversation tomorrow?" He states his question wavered with hope.

"Yes, tomorrow." You whisper into his chest loathed to move from his scent.

"I know of a place where no one will interrupt us, some place I would like to share with you."  Haldir states softly running a hand up your back, tracing your spine. 

You press yourself against him and sigh with content at the promise of tomorrow. Of Haldir wanting to share something precious of his life with you. 

"I would like that very much, Haldir." You reply and feel him shift slightly. The hand on your back moves to tilt your face up to look at him again. There's a look of satisfaction on his face for a mere moment at your appearance, soft doe-eyed and docile in his arms.

"Will you allow me to escort you back to your room?" He asks and you stifle a laugh. After what you had both just done, how he had reduced you to a quivering mess, to have him sound so proper was equal parts amusing and heartwarming.

"Please." You reply and take a moment to figure out if your legs will cooperate after the heady onslaught of a moment ago.

As you pull back slightly you straighten your clothing and idly hope you don't run into anyone on the way back. You must look like a complete shambles. Seemingly reading your thoughts Haldir reaches out and tucks some errant hair behind your ear before pressing close to kiss you again.

You squeak in surprise before melting against him again. The frantic energy from before still sizzles under your skin but Haldir seems to have a presence of mind to pull back again. 

Standing stupefied you feel Haldir tuck your arm through his own and whisk you away along unfamiliar paths. There's a sharp pang of grief of having to leave the sanctuary of moonlight and roses. But Haldir's presence at your side eases it immediately. 

There's twists and turns along darkened corridors that you are eternally grateful for being empty. Though you knew that was due to your guide's expertise in stealth, his feet lead you seemingly by second nature on desolate paths.

Soon enough you saw the familiar door of your room and a dread filled you at the realisation of having to separate from the ellon at your side.

Slowing down you both reach the door and begrudgingly you slip your arm free from Haldir. There's the distant noise of the party still in the throes of going on but all you want is the next day to come. 

Standing before Haldir you feel suddenly coy. Looking up at him under your lashes you fold your hands primly in front of you. You're sure anyone who may see would be adequately fooled into thinking you a chaste soul. And not the raging maelstrom of lust that the handsome Marchwarden stirs in you. 

Haldir tilts his head at your act and there's a moment of his eyes darkening again before he takes control of himself.

"Thank you for the tour, I enjoyed our conversation." You say saccharin sweet, Haldir ducks his head down a moment to hide the huff of a laugh.

"Hopefully it was memorable." He quips and you can't stop the small giggle escaping you as he glances up at you again.

"It was," you reply "Though I'm afraid my memory may fail me and I will need reminding Marchwarden." You confess softly and can see the twitch of his lips before his expression falls back into the easy mask of composure.

"I'm at your disposal my lady." Haldir pledges. Giving a small bow to you, he rises and you see the twinkle of mirth and promise in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Till tomorrow then?" You ask with baited breath. Haldir breaths quietly and you're quite sure he's fighting the urge to kiss you again. 

"Tomorrow and many more." He vows.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Pain Management // Trafalgar Law x afab!reader // NSFW/18+

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Chapter 10: Recovery (Epilogue)

Chapter Summary: The sun sets on the horizon, and you sit alone on the deck, absorbing the hues of the evening sky. Every decision comes with regrets, with thoughts that wander to what-ifs and what-could-have-beens, and as you bask in the orange glow of the setting sun, you ruminate on what was and what will be.

Chapter CW: afab!reader, no pronouns used; gendered pet names [ex. "good girl"]; angst; mention of surgical procedure performed on reader

WC: 2k

You sat alone on the deck and leaned back onto the heels of your palms, face tilted towards the sky, letting the dusky pinks and blues of the setting sun warp around you like a blanket as the breeze drifted across your skin. You missed this—you missed the immaculate oil paintings of evening, swaths of vibrant tangerines and fuchsias that slowly faded into watercolor lavenders and indigos under the pale light of the rising moon. You’d been spoiled by them so accustomed to them that you almost didn’t think about it until a feeling of loss, of emptiness, would wash over you some nights as you stared out the portholes into the murky abyss. Your hand settled on your lap, and you flinched when you noticed it again—there was no scar, no lasting pain, but there still persisted a dull ache from where Law had so carefully taken you apart and put you back together just a few days ago—something he was accustomed to doing already, in his way.

On that morning, hours before you were to be anesthetized (a measure Law insisted upon so you weren’t subjected to the horror of him passively taking apart your insides), he grabbed ahold of your hips and pulled you back into bed when you tried to leave; it was only for a shower, you assured him while you stroked the tops of his palms with your fingertips, only to ready yourself for what the day held for you.

“Don’t go yet,” he whined into your neck, his tickling your skin while he held you from behind, pulling you tightly to him. “Stay a little longer, okay?”

“Just for a minute,” you smiled softly, knowing a minute would turn into an hour, and drowsy embraces would turn into being pinned underneath him while he lazily thrust inside you, whispering praise against your kiss-bitten lips. You could never refuse him—not like this, not when his eyes were still barely open, his low voice husky with sleep, lean body heated like a furnace as he pressed against you, limbs wrapping around your body like vines.

After a while, his grip loosened and he sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. The question came suddenly, cutting through the quiet of his room, his voice hushed and uncertain: “You won’t leave, will you?”

“What do you mean?” You waited a moment before you moved to sit next to him, leaning your head on his arm.

“After. After the surgery.”

“Of course not. Why would I leave?”

“I don’t know.” He glanced down, gaze focused on anything but you. “Because you got what you wanted.”

“What I want is you,” you reassured him, reaching a hand up to stroke his hair, your fingers gently carding through soft, black strands. Maybe it was what you’d wanted all along, a need held somewhere deep inside you in a murky place you dared not go. Relief, though temporary, could be found in the bottom of a bottle of pills, but not this—this was something you’d longed for as soon as desire and yearning had taken root inside you from that first time you’d met him.

It was then, as you sat together in the near-dark of his quarters, that he told you he loved you—he placed a hand on your cheek, a subtle tremor in his fingers, and turned you towards him. Law held you there while he studied your face as he often did, steely eyes examining every feature despite the dim light, taking notes on you like a case study, committing the truths of your face to memory like something he’d be quizzed on later. He kissed you softly, like he’d break you if he pressed his lips to yours any harder. He inhaled sharply as he pulled away, uttering a hushed “I love you” while his lips still brushed yours, like he wanted to breathe it into you. It fell from your lips effortlessly when you said it back—like something that had always been twirling on your tongue, just waiting for the right moment to be set free.

As the sun continued to dip below the horizon, you sat on the deck and closed your eyes, filled your lungs with cool air, let the slight spray of the salt settle on your skin as the submarine bobbed up and down with the evening tide. Your thoughts drifted with the glittering waves, pushed and pulled along as you pictured them—your crew, your friends—in your mind’s eye. If only you could have hugged them one last time, wrapped your arms around them like you meant it, like you’d never, ever let them go. You had, before you left, but that was different—those were embraces of see you later, and I’ll be back soon, of unsaid reassurances that without fail, you’d return to drink tea together, and eat family meals, and bicker over who got the bath next or who’d left laundry in the hallway again, only for it to all fade away as you sipped sake and sang and danced together on the deck until the stars sat high in the darkened sky, twinkling with joy at your revelry.

Instead, you fought back sobs over a telephone wire when you heard their voices through crackles and hisses and pops. It was them—it was really them, and their voices sounded the same as when you’d left, and when the connection was good, it felt like they were right beside you, close enough to touch, close enough to hold so tightly and never let go. They were told only partial truths, rehearsed explanations of your decisions that you and Law had practiced together—mostly you, as you choked your way through it time and time again, until he placed a hand on either cheek and softly asked if you’d prefer that he handle it all, if you wanted him to shoulder the burden of telling your family that you were never coming home.

But you did it, refusing to let this news come from anyone except for you. You held Law’s hand in yours, and squeezed until your muscles shook, and you smiled and told the Strawhats that you missed them, always would, and you hoped you’d meet again someday, but sometimes things change, trajectories change, and you had new goals, new dreams that you needed to chase. And afterwards, you left the communications room, wandered the halls feeling at once incomplete and utterly fulfilled, and came to the deck in hopes that the evening sunset would soothe the raw feeling that burned inside as the disappointment in their voices resonated in your head.

“Not feeling like coming to dinner?”

The unmistakable rumble of Law’s voice vibrated deep in your bones and stirred you from your meandering thoughts. You opened your eyes and turned to see him sitting cross-legged beside you, one hand on the surface of the deck, precariously close to yours.

“I will,” you said, eyes flitting over him before your gaze returned to the horizon. “Just felt like staying here for a little while is all.”

He was quiet for a moment as you watched the skies together, and his hand crept over until it was sitting on yours, warm and comforting. It all felt so easy now—like it had always been meant to be this way, his hand always meant to cling to yours, lips always meant to meet in the dark of a hall as you passed, bodies always meant to tangle in the sheets, sweat-slicked with heaving chests, nerves on fire from satisfying that voracious hunger that drove you towards each other again and again.

“I’m sorry,” Law said after a while, just above a whisper, withdrawing his hand and placing it in his lap.

“For what?” you asked.

There could have been a million sorries for a million reasons: one for every time he sullied you on the exam table, one for every night he let you into his office to pull you close and wring pleasure out of you, one for every time he made you fall in love with him a little more with sideways glances in clandestine meetings. He could have spent a lifetime wading through sorries for knowing your ruse practically from the start and never saying a damn thing, for letting his heart get in the way of his ethics, for letting you consume him as much as he did you. But it didn’t matter anymore—you’d both made your choices.

“I don’t know.” The sigh that preceded his declaration said that he did know, and that you did too.

You leaned over and rested your chin on his shoulder. “Then don’t be.”

“Do you have any regrets?” He leaned his head against yours, stretched his long legs out to dangle them through the bars of the railing. He sounded almost hesitant to ask, afraid of what your answer may be.

“I don’t think so.” You breathed deep, noticed the sweet smell of spice and musk—the cologne you learned he wore only for you. “I’m just lucky I came here when I did.”

“How so?” he asked, the sound of a smirk registering to your ears.

“Because you fixed me—I needed you, and you fixed me,” you murmured, knowing full well that you were more broken than you’d ever been before, but now you had him to patch you up, to tape together your splintered pieces even when he was the one that shattered you in the first place.

“You know I like it when you say you need me, sweetheart,” Law smirked as he began to cover your neck in kisses, scraping his teeth against your skin in that way he knew you liked, trying to distract you from your melancholy in the best way he knew how.

A sigh filtered into the air above you as your eyes closed, and your skin prickled with every touch. “I know you do.”

“So say it again, then.” Law’s hand settled on your thigh, squeezing it gently. “Say it for me.”

“I need you,” you moaned softly.

“Good girl,” he grinned as he kissed you again, his tongue quickly parting your lips, a low hum of pleasure rumbling inside him. It was impossible for him to chase away every bit of sadness that coursed through you, silently mourning the life that was and the life that could have been, but he could at least bring you respite, bring you the temporary relief he was so adept at giving you, until your mind was hazy with lust and you could forget, even if for a moment, your ache for what you left behind.

The welcome disruption from your ruminations was halted as an abrupt snickering and the sound of whispers came from behind you.

“Guys, come on,” Law grunted as he gruffly broke your kiss. “Act like adults.”

You heard Penguin and Shachi laughing to each other as their voices faded, accompanied by loud footfalls on metal stairs, and Law sighed and stood, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“I should go inside,” Law grumbled as he inhaled the scent of your shampoo, the one he would never tell you that he borrowed now and again, just to smell like you. “You sure you don’t want to come down for dinner?”

“I will, just give me a little bit longer, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Hey.” You reached up and grabbed his wrist as he tried to walk away, pulling him back to you, always pulling him back to you. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes and smiled in that way that was only meant for you, a secret you'd keep in your heart. “I love you too.”

You turned your head and listened, waited until you heard his footsteps vanishing down the stairs, back into the submarine, before you let yourself flop backwards onto the deck, folding your hands behind your head, staring into the indigo sky. The patch of seedlings that took root, that pushed forth from the soil with every lingering thought of him had not needed sun to thrive—it needed only the darkness of deep waters to finally take root and grow. And now you wandered through that blossoming field of wildflowers, without pain, if only to find him there and take his hand—to walk together amongst the blooms of a damaged and desperate love.

[spitefulwriters]

JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera (2.6K) all the times they could have kissed, but didn’t. (a series, maybe)

JJ slept like the dead, usually.

Normally half dressed, when he could be bothered, stripped down to jeans, sometimes less when it got too hot. Most of the time he didn’t make it under the sheets, bone tired from surfing, from fighting waves or fighting his father, passed out on the mattress at a weird angle to avoid that one broken spring.

Face down on a pillow, salt still in his hair, an old fan aimed at his naked back, a silly amount of lukewarm air blowing onto his sunburnt skin.

He’d sleep through the TV, the angry blare of it, the smash of an empty beer bottle, all too used to the sounds that became a fucked up kind of lullaby. Alarms didn’t budge him, not really, not anymore. He would have never made it to school if it weren’t for his dad’s foot against the door, an offbeat drum, angry and shattering.

So JJ had absolutely no idea how the tiny rocks against his window pane stirred him from sleep.

One hit, two hit, three; the sound almost like the beginning of a rain shower and then it stopped. JJ groaned, nose rubbing at the pillowcase, brow wrinkling.

Something told him to get up.

Fists found the mattress, another groan, a stifled yawn and then he was pushing himself off of the bed, sheets tangled around his knees and he tripped on one abandoned boot before he made it to the window. Eyes half closed, heavy with sleep, he cracked it open, looking out into the dark, the marshes still alive, buzzing under the moon. He couldn’t see anything, not at first, not when the sky bled into the water and the greenery became inky black, shadows on shadows with nothing in between.

Then, from the treeline, a girl appeared. Just ten feet away, too scared to get too close, wary of the glow from the television bleeding from the living room blinds, slants of blue light between broken slats. JJ thought he might’ve been dreaming.

Maybe he was.

Kiara.

Half dressed in pyjama shorts and an old sweatshirt that had some kind of fishing logo on the front. It was too dark to see, but the boy thought it might’ve been his, maybe once.

JJ blinked and dragged a hand through his hair, wincing when his fingers got caught in the ends, salt and sand falling onto his shoulders and he stared at the girl in her unlaced sneakers, no car, no bike, no nothing around her.

“What’re you doing?” He hissed, voice rough with sleep, cracking with anticipation. He could hear the western movie that was playing from the other room, but he couldn’t hear his dad snoring. Not yet. “What the fuck, Kie?”

Kiara edged forward, eyes wary, stare flickering from JJ’s face and back to the front door of the trailer. When nothing moved, when no one appeared, she walked through the grown grass and curled her fingers around the window edge. She was close enough now that JJ could see the heaviness on her face, the tired looking bruises under her lash line, the weight on her shoulders.

Kie’s chin jumped the sill and her fingers were so close to the boy’s, close enough that her pinky almost grazed his thumb and it wasn’t cold outside, not in the slightest, but the boy seemed to hold the sun under his skin and Kiara wanted to run to it.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered, her voice too awake, too alert for two in the morning.

JJ waited, knowing there was more. He could see it in her face, the bitten skin at her bottom lip, the pulled out curl that fell into her eyes, the one that held more frizz than the rest.

“Parents are fighting again,” Kie continued, staring past JJ, into his room, gaze studying the posters and photos on his wall as if she could hide her feelings amongst them all. “It’s stupid. I just— I wanted to get out of the house.”

Maybe before - years ago, maybe only months ago - JJ would’ve teased her. Made some kind of comment, something less than sensitive, something crude about seeking him out in the middle of the night, something destructive about not choosing John B or Pope over him.

But now— now?

JJ pressed his lips together and nodded. His thumb shifted, just once, grazing the back of Kie’s hand before pulling away and searching his floor for a shirt. He yanked one on, buttoned up his jeans, grabbed a cap to cover his bed mussed hair, shoved bare feet into shoes and ushered her backwards without looking at his bedroom door or thinking about what lay behind it. Kie moved, watching as the boy slid open the window a little wider, throwing one leg out before the other and dropping almost silently to the ground, like he’d done it before.

Of course he had. He’d done it plenty of times.

Just not for her.

They didn’t speak as JJ straightened up, boots crunching in the grass. Eyes locked, the boy lifted a finger to his lips and offered Kiara his other hand. She took it like she always did, with no hesitation at all, and JJ led her across the marshes, through the buzz of the insects, away from the man in the living room. They walked until overgrown grass and reeds turned into a dirt path, forged by night time walks just like this.

Neither thought to take JJ’s bike, neither thought about a car, or the Twinkie. They just walked, heading out of the marshes until the fisherman shacks were left behind, until they couldn’t hear the drone of cicadas as loudly, until they were crossing the road that took them out of The Cut and under streetlights.

They walked until tarmac turned to sand and the empty beach lay before them and like it had already been agreed, they both stopped to toe off their shoes, digging the soles of their feet into the sand just to see if it had kept any of the afternoon heat. Kiara walked and JJ followed, not speaking, not yet, not until he knew the time was right.

He’d once been a stupid kid, a teenage boy without much common sense when it came to girls and feelings - and shit, maybe he still was - but JJ Maybank was a grade A student when it came to Kiara Carrera. So he watched and he waited, following the girl in the sand, his footprints covering up her much smaller ones as she led them to the shoreline, where the waves lapped at the beach and created the best kind of white noise. A rush of water, the most pretty kind of itch that scratched at his brain and he thought Kie felt the same, because when she stopped and he chanced a look at her profile, her eyes were closed, the corners of her mouths lifting every time the ocean caught her toes.

“It was too loud,” Kie finally said as a way of explanation. The water rushed, a shell hit a rock and silence fell over them again. “They’d been arguing all night, all through dinner. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Doesn’t sound fun,” JJ agreed. He kept his eyes on the water, searching the horizon like he was trying to find something to focus on other than the warmth of the girl standing beside him. “What’re they yellin’ ‘bout now?”

Kiara’s sneakers hit the sand with a wet smack. She sighed before sitting, knees tucked to her chest and JJ wondered once more if the sweater was his before it had become hers, maybe John B’s for a week or two, maybe Pope’s. He joined her, feet planted half in the sea and his arms on his knees, waiting for her reply, even if he knew what was coming.

“Everything,” Kiara stated flatly. She let out a huff of laughter, no humour to the sound. “Me, mostly.”

JJ smiled at her bluntness and touched the brim of his hat, for lack of something to do. He was itching to reach out, to brush away the grains of wet sand that stuck to her shins. “Doesn’t sound like anythin’ new.”

Kiara shrugged. “Not really, s’all a broken record now though. Sick of the same shit every day. All they do is act like I’m some sort of broken kid, like they have to fix me.”

JJ wanted to nod and say he understood, that he knew the feeling. He’d been treated like a problem his whole life, like he’d been born less than perfect, like he was the root cause of all his fathers shortcomings. But he didn’t know what it was like to have someone care enough to wanna try and solve it. To maybe try and put his broken pieces back together. So he just pressed his lips together and stared at the sand, waiting for the moment the ocean would brush back over his bare feet again, soaking at the hem of his jeans.

“Ever wanna do something stupid? Just ‘cause?”

JJ snorted at the question, chin turning up and eyes searching for Kiara’s. She was already looking at him, more start curls escaping her hair tie, a smile on her face that JJ thought could maybe fix some of his problems, at least.

“You realise who you’re talkin’ to, right?” He replied, grinning right back. The sun that was left of his cheeks stung when he did it, nose wrinkled and a little too red because he never listened when Kiara and Pope told him he needed more sunblock. “What kinda stupid are we talkin’ about?”

Kie shrugged, stretched out her legs and let the sand coat the back of them, wet, golden grains against dark bronzed skin and JJ wondered if she’d take them to bed with her, if she’d manage to wash them off and hide the evidence of their night from her parents before she got back home. The boy wondered if she cared.

“I don’t know,” kie let her head tilt to the side, pondering. She held up one hand and started counting on each finger. “We’ve already covered running away, robbery—”

JJ snorted. “Don’t forget grand theft auto.”

“—does grand larceny count?” Kie smiled.

The boy smirked. “Gold was always ours, Kie, don’t forget it.”

Silence fell over them again, smiles never fading. If they waited long enough, they’d see the stars turn to sunlight and the sky change to cotton candy pink, creeping over the edge of the ocean.

Kie didn’t want to wait that long.

She let her head fall back, her neck on its hinge, staring up above, lights winking down at her, telling her she should be asleep.

“Maybe we’ve been going too big.” She blew out a breath, let her eyes close. “Maybe we need to start from the beginning, throw a rager, get drunk. Like kids are supposed to. That kind of stupid.”

JJ hummed, nodding even though Kiara could see. Her hands were in the sand, fingertips buried in the grains. If he moved a little closer, their pinkies could touch.

“Sounds lame in comparison,” the boy teased lightly. “Where’s the fun if we don’t got no guns?”

Kie didn’t laugh but JJ watched her smile, head shaking, eyes opening so she could flick her gaze over to him, mirth dancing in them. She looked like she was unsure of what to say next, if she should say anything at all but then she sat up a little straighter, turning so her body was facing him.

“What about something stupid like—” Kiara picked at a broken shell, a barely there piece of pearl. “—like kissing someone you’re not supposed to.”

It was like the air had been sucked off of the island, like it had up and left, leaving them with only the sound of the sea. Whilst everyone else on Kildare slept, JJ felt like his heart had exploded. Surely the sonic boom could be heard across the beach, reaching Charleston and further, surely Kiara heard it too.

But the girl was just watching him, waiting, wary and quiet.

JJ felt like he’d swallowed his tongue, but still he moved, shifted in the sand until his knee knocked Kiara’s bare one and he felt the entire night swallow him whole. He didn’t know where to look, didn’t know how to act. ‘Causal’ wasn’t in JJ Maybank’s vocabulary. He stared at the shell in the girls hand, watched the pink and green oil slick shine glint in the moonlight.

“Like— like Gary at the restaurant? Or—?”

Kie wrinkled her nose at the mention of the older boy who worked for her parents. Twenty-something and harbouring a habit from cheap whisky and younger girls, he wasn’t Kiara’s favourite person.

“What?” Kie pulled a face. “Ew, no. No— like a friend.” She swallowed a little too harshly, her fingers suddenly clumsy and dropping her shell. “Someone who people would get mad about.”

A friend a friend a friend.

JJ felt his cheeks flush, a rosy warmth across his nose that he could only hope the darkness would hide. It felt like the middle of the day, a heatwave creeping in, a tropical storm with the name of a girl, making the air too hot, ready to sweep him up and rattle him from the inside out.

He licked his lips, tried to stay neutral, hoped his voice wouldn’t crack, prayed he didn’t act a fool. “Who’d get mad at you for something like that?”

When JJ finally looked up, waiting for the girl’s answer with a breath held in his chest, he realised Kiara was already looking at him. Her lashes lowered, gaze trained in his lips, watching the way his mouth parted ever so slightly when he sucked in a burning breath.

“Everyone,” Kie whispered.

The world would have fell into the ocean then, houses and cliffs crumbling, JJ wouldn’t have noticed. Not at all.

“Because it would be a mistake?” His voice cracked, too husky. He didn’t care, not one bit. “Or ‘cause you’d regret it…?”

Kie was still watching him, eyes flicking from his mouth as he spoke, to the slant of his cheek bones, the blue of his eyes. He felt so exposed under her gaze, laid bare, even in the middle of the night, sitting on the beach in the dark. JJ marvelled over the realisation that he didn’t really mind. He’d sit like this for days on end for Kiara, if it meant getting her attention in this way.

Kie shrugged, gave a sad sort of smile and found her broken shell again, tapping her nail against the side. “Not necessarily,” was all she said.

He could’ve kissed her then, JJ was almost sure of it. He could’ve leant in, tested the waters, watched to see if her eyes followed his mouth even when it moved to her own, if she’d let him put his hand on her knee, if she’d let him pull her in by the back of her neck like he was used to doing with the girls he met at parties.

But JJ didn’t have that kind of confidence, not then. Not with Kiara Carrera. He thought about what she’d said, about the people who’d be mad at her— at them. He wondered if Kie was even talking about him in the first place.

She couldn’t be. Of course not, right?

Right?

So JJ waited until the surf was dragged back out and Kie brushed the sand off her calves. He stood, tugged off his cap to drag a hand through his hair before shoving it back on, pulling the brim down to hide his eyes, the disappointment in them. Then, the boy held a hand out to the girl and he tried to keep his heart inside his chest when she took it.

Dragging Kie up from the sand, he smiled at her, just like he normally would. “Lemme walk you home,” was all he had to say.

-Bellamy (SW#1)

[carloswilliamcarlos]

Since it's Valentine's season could you maybe to a 12 types of K**o kisses?

Sure thing, sweet love! Kylo says happy Valentine's day!

The 12 Types of Kylo Kisses (Kylo Ren x Reader)

The first kiss, so sudden and swift it took your breath away. He’d asked you to meet him in a back hallway after weeks of interactions that were somewhere between flirting and fighting. As you craned your neck to check for onlookers, he suddenly appeared, paused, and whipped off his mask, letting it thud to the floor. The face revealed was a strange mix of confused, determined, and terrified, a little flushed and capped with a messy black mop of hair. His hands clenched and flexed nervously in his gloves as he strode toward you, alarmingly fast. In a breath you were against the wall, a huge hand holding your face with fingertips behind your ear and a strong thumb crossing your neck. He kissed you hard, fast, and before you could even register what was happening he pulled away, looking frantically back and forth between your eyes. You swore you saw him nod just a bit, and then he was gone, stomping away. It wasn’t until he stooped down to retrieve his mask and his eyes caught yours that you glimpsed just a hint of a smile.

The second kiss, this time by your design. He’d been avoiding you, or so he thought. His frequent curious peeks at you from across the room weren’t nearly as covert as he meant them to be. So with a well-concealed note you summoned him to your quarters that night. He sat beside you on the edge of your bed, a tense coil of unsure energy. But your hand on his knee melted him. He could feel the soothing warmth radiate across him, urging his muscles to let go and surrender to your soft serenity. You brushed a lock of hair from his face and moved in slowly, watching his eyelids flutter shut in bliss. And you kissed him slowly, tenderly, until he was languid putty in your hands. And from that moment on you were the center of his galaxy.

The secret kisses, like teenagers stealing moments from the watchful eyes of unapproving parents. All desperation and rush and grabbing hands and crooked teeth peeking out from behind plush lips as he let himself laugh like a kid again, laugh in a moment that been taken from him in the wake of war and legacy and the obligation to grow up far, far too fast. With you, all that time was his again. A first love, hidden exchanges, the tingling that lingered on his lips long after you left through separate doors.

The kiss the first time you’re on top of him, and his head is spinning and he thinks he may explode. It’s all breath, shaky breath, panting breath, and bitten lips flush red with desire. His chest heaves, his fingertips bite into your hips, and then it happens, and all of the lights in his room blow out at once, sparks falling in cascades to the floor.

The first morning kiss, the one you press to the very tip of his nose while he’s still asleep, before the burdens and worries and dangers have shadowed his face. He looks so young now. Not a Commander, but a boy. A boy who, for the first time in many years, has fallen asleep without dreaming of a traitor standing over him, waiting to strike. A boy who reaches for you without realizing. A boy who loves you.

The one million and one kisses you dot across his skin- one for every freckle. He’s stolen you away to some planet he discovered by accident a while back, one only he knows exists. The sun shines bright, no stars or moons to be seen. Waves crash against the shore and his freckles darken, constellations of them, more than you ever knew were there. You kiss them all with equal affection, anointing each one with a blessing of gratitude and protection.

The searing kiss he bites into your inner thigh when he’s got all your all sprawled out and sweating on his bed. He’s nothing if not devoted, and oh, does he love to show you. Over and over again, until even just his breath against you makes you spasm and shiver and shake.

The kiss that gets you caught, interrupted by the terse clearing of a throat. You only see a flash of fear in Kylo’s eyes before they’re overtaken with incendiary rage, turning slowly to face the offender. To this day, you’re not sure how Hux was lucky enough to survive.

The tearful kiss, the one you’re sure will be your last. You tell him you won’t be the one to come between him and the power he was destined for. He’s unstoppable, like nothing and no one the galaxy has ever seen, and you both know there’s a throne waiting for him- only him- someday soon. It’s not that you don’t love him. It’s that you do. You love him too much to cost him what belongs to him. So you tell him goodbye, and when you can barely choke the word out, you don’t bother trying again.

The all-consuming kiss that lifts you off the ground with its force, This time it’s Kylo who thinks it may be your last, and he takes everything he can from you, gives everything he has to you- no reason to leave anything behind. He’s fighting for you, he tells you. Fighting to take the throne now and to bring you with him, to rewrite the rules and begin a new era of the Order. If he succeeds, you’ll be his empress, seated beside him at the helm of the galaxy. If he fails… You won’t let that thought catch flame. You snuff it out until it’s only smoke, trailing behind him as stomps toward the steps of his ship.

The kiss that revives him. He’s in the med bay, where the air is deathly still and even the droids seem to be holding their breath. He’s won. But barely. His victory only matters if he lives, if he’s here to take the throne with you. A victory won for you means nothing now, nothing without him. He’s slashed nearly to bits, some of his burns still searing. So you sit on his bed, brush his hair away just how you did in your quarters so long ago, hoping this will call him to you once again. You brush your kiss across his lips, lingering, a tear falling on his cheek. It hisses as it hits an open wound. And there’s nothing, nothing from him at all, and you’re about to fall to your knees when a hand comes to rest at your lower back. You turn to look, and it’s his, of course it is, of course he did it. When you turn back to him, his eyes are open, the smallest of smiles fighting its way to the corner of his mouth. He’s won.

The wedding kiss you share before your thrones, crowds fighting to catch a glimpse of you up on the obsidian steps. It’s the beginning of forever, a bright sun and a shadowed moon, swirling together through space until the end of time.

[jenosuh]

fic recs and good authors part 2

so I’m not actually finished here but I guess I’ll just post this now and make a part 3 when some other fics come to mind, I’m sorry if I left out and triggers or warnings. sorry if I’ve tagged you before

tag list : @dimplehyunn

these are all in no particular order

love story by @dreamcities romeo!jaemin x fem!juliet!reader

summary: you hadn’t meant to fall in love at first sight with the handsome son of your family’s sworn enemy. but you did, and now you must decide if you’d risk it all for your star-crossed romance with him or go forth with your arranged marriage with another man.

something to sink my teeth into by @kiri-ah vampire!jaemin x human reader

summary: A trip to Poland goes terribly wrong - or maybe terribly right - when you're bitten and kidnapped by a vampire. Between passing out, almost dying multiple times, and falling in love, you have a lot on your plate. Oh, and the magic. Right.

someone to spend eternity with by @mochi-baby-xoxo part two to ‘something to sink my teeth into’ above ^

last deception by @jaemotel agent!jaemin x fem!mafia boss!reader

summary: na jaemin, one of the best agents is sent to hunt down his ex lover without getting his feelings involved. jaemin is not the one to get out of track but what happens when he meets the love of his life, one more time?

the one that got away by @dear-hao jaemin x reader

summary: a perfect couple who just couldn’t get timing right.  

wall talk by @dnylvu

summary: he’s the enemy, the one you’ve despised since the beginning of time. but he’s also the very man buried deep within you.

broken mirrors by @neovisioned jaehyun x reader

summary: Your college friends recall a creepy legend about a man that appears in mirrors and grants you two wishes when summoned. Jisung is dared to say his name three times and see what happens. At first you brush it off as some copy of bloody mary but, when your friend chickens out and swears something happened in that bathroom, you can’t deny the shift in atmosphere everyone felt. The urge to try it out mixed with fear pushes you over the edge. it’s probably fake anyways, right? You summon Jung Jaehyun in the middle of the night, on your bed, and he is not what you expected him to be. 

I like you….the other you by @pastelsicheng spiderman!jaemin x reader

summary: Even after drifting apart from your friend Jaemin 3 years ago, you still have a big fat cr*sh on him. You’ve convinced yourself that you’ll get over him someday, but maybe it’s better that you didn’t get over him after all because Jaemin has a big fat cr*sh on you too. All it takes is you telling him about your feelings and saying you like him. Well, telling the other him. Alternatively, in which you have a big fat cr*sh on Spider-man’s alter-ego and Spider-man has a big fat cr*sh on you.

smultronställe part 2 by @gohyuck surgeon!jaemin x reader

summary: in which jaemin’s both a superdad and a supersurgeon and you can’t help but fall for him

the one that got away by @haechanplsacceptmylove sungchan & fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy, death, blood (bro i love this fic so much but i hate it because i cried so much and i don’t think i can bring myself to read it again because I’ll get to emotional and hate myself, it’s super angsty and has character death so read it if you think you’ll be ok with those themes)

random really good jaemin fic recs list by @jaesayshi

cat and mouse by @tyonfs

summary: tired of meaningless hookups and dull parties, na jaemin had always been hesitant to indulge himself. that is, of course, until he met you. however, upon realizing you’re none other than jeong jaehyun’s little sister, jaemin has to keep his relationship with you under wraps to make sure his team captain doesn’t find out. 

just like the movies by @jensungf

summary: the kissing booth was a horrible movie, but somehow you still managed to get roped into watching the god-awful sequel, and the only reason you could blame was your stupid best friend by the name of lee donghyuck. oh, and the fact that you may or may not be whipped for him too.

that’s hot by @dreamcity-rawr pride!mark x reader

Summary: mark’s pride and ego start to get on your nerves so you decide to give him a piece of your mind, little did you know, you start become a piece always on his mind from then on  

i became attracted to seaweed by @choerrypuffs son of poseidon!donghyuck x daughter of athena!reader

enchanted also by @choerrypuffs prince!jungwoo x witch!reader

summary: the prince has always been a little unconventional, but no one ever expected him to fall in love with a witch.

serve you, help you by @00-baejin-05 butler!jaemin x reader x butler!jeno

summary: it's normal to have servants serve you, especially if you are royalty. however, you didn't expect two butlers to be given to you, intead of maids. you learned how to trust them and deepen your connection with him... but it's gotten way too deep. (I somehow remember reading this but I also somehow don’t??)

grit your f*ckin teeth by @henlojeno mark x reader

summary: dubbed the grim reaper, one half of the strongest in the devil’s league, you were a supernatural hybrid known for strong wings and green lighting; admired and feared by both humans and myths alike, right until the day you disappeared with no explanation. cue your reappearance four months later, it’s up to you to mend the ties you left hanging and reconcile with those you’ve left behind, all while still scrambling to save lives from a crumbling society.

the interview by @whereisten vampire!doyoung x journalist reader

summary: you’re a journalist that just booked her biggest gig, an interview with Doyoung, a vampire notorious for a series of murders in your city.

gilded gold by @mint-yooxgi yandere vampire print jaehyun x reader

sun&moon by @fleurminho jaehyun x reader

(um so the acc deactivated before I got to post it but the plot was really cute so I’ll keep this here even if the links don’t lead to anything. all I remember was a soulmate au with jaehyun where you go to his concert and meet him there </3)

authors:

@nakamotocore @shotarology @bluejaem @jenoismydad @tenseoyong @taemin-jaemin

[judeschoices]

How Far We’ve Come

Because I miss one hardass, but softie for MC, Elijah Sipes.

Book: Wake The Dead

Pairing: Elijah Sipes x Judith Archer (Black Female MC)

Rating: T (Teens)

Tags: Future-Based, Reflecting, Fluff, Mentions of violence

Summary: It’s been a year since Olympus has been founded and survived the 7-Year Surge. Judith found it nearly impossible to sleep and Eli finds it uncomfortable without her sleeping next to him. So the two of them reflected on the events that lead them to this very moment. Together at last, under the sparkling night sky.

“You should be sleeping.” Honey-brown eyes glanced over a moon-kissed shoulder, regarding the towering man silently before turning back to look at the full moon. Eli walked up silently before sitting behind the young woman on the window sill, wrapping his arms around her.

“I could say the same for you,” Judith responded softly under her breath, eyes never leaving the celestial bodies in the sky. Eli gently squeezed her closer, pressing his chest along the length of her back.

“I woke up when I realized you weren’t next to me,” he mumbled against the soft skin of her shoulder. Eli could feel the vibration of her gentle laugh against his lips.

“It’s funny that you say that. I was just thinking about how far we’ve come. I bet over a year ago, you couldn’t imagine hearing yourself say that. Especially since you threatened to kill me to prevent trouble coming to your doorstep,” she replied. The older man shook his head with a chuckle.

“Being alone was all I knew. With a face like yours, you were bound to bring all sorts of trouble to my life.” She raised a brow at this.

“A face like mine?”

“I always found you to be beautiful… your eyes were what drew me in the most. Even in the dark, they seem to shine like two suns. They’re captivating… you are captivating… but I couldn’t let that deter me or my focus on surviving.” A sharp canine gently wore down on her bottom lip as Judith felt a blush warm her cheeks.

Eli was a man of a few words… but when he spoke, he made them count. Usually, he’ll be short, blunt, and to the point. She knew he wouldn’t become a waxing poetic to just anyone.

“I didn’t realize you thought that way, Eli,” she whispered softly. Eli nuzzled her neck affectionately, squeezing her close.

“I did… even though part of me wanted to keep you at a distance… I’m glad I didn’t. I don’t regret a moment we shared together,” he mumbled softly against her pulse. Eli could feel the shudder run across the warm body in his arms.

“Not…not even that day at the carnival,” she asked shyly. Eli surprised Judith by giving her a rare smile.

“Not at all…” She turned to face him properly, slender fingers dancing over the healed bite mark adorning his neck.

“I find that hard to believe, especially after you got bitten,” she said. The memory of the drone sinking its disgusting teeth into Eli’s skin was something that Judith would never forget. She could’ve lost the man she developed feelings for long before she was ready to confess. Before seeing if there was a remote chance of them exploring what these feelings meant. Where they could possibly lead...

A larger hand reached up to cover her own, dark hazel eyes looking directly into hardened amber ones. Judith blinked as if she was coming back to herself. Eli met her gaze with steady determination.

“I would be a liar and say that I didn’t berate myself that day. I kissed you even though I told myself to stay away from you. You kept me alive even though you knew the rule of what happens when someone gets bit. I almost killed you because you refused to kill me…” Eli fell quiet for a moment, taking in the face of the woman who wiggled her way into his heavily guarded heart.

Judith was a beautiful young woman, Eli would have to be dead not to notice. Bright-colored eyes that turn into molten gold under the natural lighting. A diamond-shaped face softened the plump curve of her cheeks.  A cute nose that would wrinkle at anyone who annoyed or sassed her. Full dark brows that would communicate at least 60% of her answers. Full lips that held a particular sweetness that Eli just can’t get enough of. Long ombré colored locs that would tumble over her shoulders and upper back. Dark brown skin marred by battle scars, but still soft and warm to the touch.

“But I couldn’t find in myself to regret being with you. Not then, not now, not ever.” Judith let out a shaky breath at his confession, cheeks flushing in a deep red.

“I... don’t regret taking a chance on you either,” she said quietly, forcing herself to hold his gaze.

Judith has never really experienced love or romantic feelings before. No one at the Tower really interested her and the guys there seem to find it a fun sport of bad mouthing her and calling her all types of racial slurs. Jaime would step in and threaten to break their teeth in if she ever caught them harassing her but Judith tried to block them out and ignore them whenever she wasn’t around. 

It was the apocalypse, she couldn’t really see herself being with someone and having a family of her own.

That was of course until she met Eli.

It was unconventional.

Her Knight in Army-clad armor was quick to aim his arrow at her heart after he saved her and her friends from being devoured by zombies. Even with his steely gaze, Judith couldn’t help but admire his eyes. At first, she thought he had brown eyes until she saw him in proper lighting. Flashes of green appeared in his iris, reminding her of the forest surrounding his cabin.

And Judith had eyes. She would have to be a zombie not to notice how handsome Eli was.

Dark hazel eyes framed by long dark lashes. Full brows that framed his eyes and face structure perfectly. Full lips that stuck out no matter how much he frowned or scowled. The facial hair outlined his strong jawline. The small scars that decorated his face. Even with his dark wavy hair outfitted in a mohawk that Judith never fully understood.

Don’t get her started on his body. Judith has been lifted up by Eli several times, mainly to save her ass from a zombie trying to eat her. But it never fails to make her secretly blush at how easily he’s able to do so.

But Eli was more than a handsome face with a fit body. He was a source of comfort for her. Even though he helped Dirk drag her awhile from Jaime, he expressed many times he understood her. That he truly saw her, no matter how hard she tried to hide behind a reassuring smile.

He just seems to get her. And it seemed natural for her to get him too…

”I do admit, I’m glad you said that. I know I didn’t make it easy to get close.” Judith smiled, before pecking his lips.

”Some things in life are never easy. That’s why they’re worthwhile,” she whispered. Eli’s tongue swiped over his lips, eyes dark with intent. He leaned in, pressing his lips against Judith’s soft ones.

The young woman let out a soft sigh through her nose, parting her lips for Eli to get a deeper taste. The man let out an answering groan when the familiar taste of her ignited his senses. The two shared a small battle before Judith submitted to Eli’s building desire.

It was when he moved from her lips to her neck that she gave a little jump.

“Oh!” Eli immediately stopped upon hearing her, brows creased with worry.

“What is it,” he asked, body wounded up tight as if he was ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. Judith let out a small laugh.

“I think our little one is trying to tell you to give me a break. I don’t think they appreciate your passionate actions last night as I did,” she teased, gaze turning down to her extended belly. Eli relaxed at this, giving a small smile. His large rugged hands trailed down to Judith’s stomach, rubbing it soothingly.

“My apologies, little one. I didn’t mean to wake you up last night,” he said to his unborn child. Judith loved seeing this softer side of Eli, especially when he interacted with the baby growing inside her.

Their baby.

“You’re lucky that you’re not carrying them. They gave me hell over it almost the entire day today,” she snorted before wincing a bit when a tiny foot pushed against her skin. Eli ran his hand over the spot, soothing the child living her stomach before leaving a kiss beneath her ear as an apology.

“I’m glad I’m not, but that doesn’t mean I don’t admire you for doing so. You’re so strong for doing this. Something our kid seems to demonstrate already,” he whispered. There was a brief pause before Eli spoke again.

“What gender do you think our baby is?” Judith took on a thoughtful expression.

“I think it’s a boy, personally,” she answered, entwining her fingers with Eli’s. The man smiled.

“Interesting, I was thinking the same thing… would you be disappointed if we had a girl instead?” Judith shook her head.

“No, not at all. If we did have a girl, she would probably be a badass like her mama,” she replied with a smirk. Eli rolled his eyes before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Hopefully our kid wouldn’t inherit your ability to throw yourself head first into danger.”

“Hey!” Eli laughed at the woman’s offended cry. He pecked her lips before looking into her eyes.

“Though I do hope they inherit your eyes… that beautiful honey brown that would shine even in the darkest of nights.” Judith fought back the blush that threatened to burn her face. Damn Eli’s ability to tease her and make her feel like mush in less than a minute…

“Our kid is gonna be beautiful. They have the finest parents around after all,” she said with a wink. Eli let out an amused hum before dropping his gaze to her belly.

“Thought of any names?”

“Yeah… Kayden David Sipes for a boy and Preach Jaime Sipes for a girl.” Eli squeezed his love close.

“They would be honored to hear that, you know?” Judith looked into Eli’s dark hazel eyes.

“I know… and they would be proud to see how far we came. Together as a couple. I love you, Elijah.”

“I love you too, Judith Lupa Sipes…”

[smoochi-modest]

✿ [ Wilted ] ✿

—> Genshin Impact - [ Xiao x Reader ]

—>  [ Fem! Reader. Blood. Gore. Character death. Fluff into angst, with a rather bitter ending. ]

—> Description - [ It all started with a promise, and now here you were. It seems Xiao will never escape his karma, he thought. The hope you once gave him began to escape within his tears. ]

—> Note - [ 2,231 words - I hope you enjoy;; it'll be one of the few times I write angst, I can't bring myself to hurt him more. ]

" Xiao... you're immortal right? "

Head rested peacefully on the adepti's shoulder, you couldn't help but smile fondly towards the boys face. Xiao had been staring back at you for quite some time now, you were unsure why but you hadn't been bothered to ask. Feeling safe under his watchful eye.

" I am still able to die, just not by time. " Xiao said firmly to you in response, his normally sharp glare found itself to soften the moment you lock eye contact. A feeling of nostalgia bubbled beneath the surface of his skin.

"Mm... That's no good, that means you'll have to die in pain. Right?"

He was taken back by your words for a moment, a frown creeping onto his features. Brows furrow while listening to you patiently. He opened his mouth, only to shut it once more for you to continue.

"I mean... You're already going through enough pain as it is."

He was. And he knew it hurt not only him, but you as well.

"Will you be alright when I'm gone...?"

No. He wanted to say oh so desperately. Closing his eyes, Xiao leaned his head to the side, nuzzling on top of your own while he whispered gently.

" Please do not utter such words. "

Then there was silence, within the heavy atmosphere there was clearly something plaguing your thoughts. He feared it would trap you in a world similar to his own, a place full of pain and self doubt.

" . . . "

" I am an adepti, not a child. "

" . . . "

Yet again more silence, that is... until you shot up from your seated position, knocking your heads together on accident while whining in the process. You lifted a hand to your head, muttering small curses. But now wasn't the time for that! Brushing off the complaints, you make light of the situation. A new idea found it's way in that pretty head of yours, as he stared at you rather irritated by the sudden bash of skulls through your unexpected excitement.

" Wait! I got it! " You seem to beam, " I'll just reincarnate as soon as I am dead! Then I could embrace you just like this, all over again! "

Xiao scoffed, looking to the ground as a sudden warmth found its way across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. A rose red hue, adorning his face.

" Reincarnation doesn't work like that, you have no say in how long it takes for you to return. "

This seemed to make you pout, sitting yourself back down, you take his hands in your own. The sudden connection, brought him to lift his head slightly to have a glance at your expression. Your fingers intertwining with his.

" Fine then! Just watch me, Xiao. I'll prove you wrong. "

"I'll even promise you!"

That day was forever imprinted in the back of his mind, staring down solemnly at your gravestone. He couldn't remember the last time he felt your touch, oh how he craved to feel it again. Wishing to go back in time, and replay everything all over again.

Xiao missed the way you'd hold his hands ever so delicately, bringing each knuckle to your soft lips. With each kiss, came so much unfamiliar warmth. He wishes he could have told you just how special you were to him, but now it was too late.

You were always the one to nurture his hands, the way you'd caress them with your thumb- leaving tingles behind. You'd claim time and time again, that those hands weren't only used for bloodshed. But for love as well.

His hands let him eat Almond tofu, grasp onto your face while peppering you with soft love pecks. He can almost hear you giggles still, whenever you'd try to push him away out of embarrassment.

Now he awaited for your promise to come true... he's waited nearly a decade now, or had it been more? Visiting your grave whenever he had the time, he treated your gravestone like it had truly been you. Leaving flowers behind, all different colours. Some white camellia, all the way to some dandelion he picked from the ground during his travels.

Ever since that day, the fateful day of your demise- Xiaos life fell into shambles. Feeling tears swell up beneath his mask each day as he slaughtered all his inner demons, along with many threats that came too close to the city of Liyue. His life didn't feel the same, forgetting what he had done on a regular biases without you by his side. So much pressure weighed at his faltering heart. A pressure that almost made him feel equal pain to his karmic debt.

He longed for a day to come where he could have worn the mask and danced with you in his arms — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers he heard once before, long ago. Before he had met you.

The once glittering sun found itself to rest behind the ocean's view, darkness consuming your gravestone and him along with it. Allowing the moon to grace Xiao with it's knowing call, a sign of more pain to come, a call reminding him of his duty that he must serve for the rest of his lifetime. He bid your grave a farewell after adjusting some of the fallen flowers.

Everything around him seemed to be void of any sound, slashing away at potential threats in his path. Piercing monsters abdomens like it were a kabob, before ripping his weapon of choice out in swift motion, allowing blood to spill out of the inhumane creature. Spinning his jade-winged spear to rid of any remaining traces of blood or guts, the ground had been painted in the horrifying colour which you seemed adore. A rose red.

There had been very few times where Xiao was caught off guard, however it was during this onslaught that something abnormal began to sprout like a rose bud. A harsh force knocked him off his feet, collapsing to the ground as he winced in pain. A weight then followed, hovering over him as a small hand grasped his throat. Choking on his breath, his piercing gold eyes widen at the sight ahead of him.

There sat a young girl, resembling his fallen lover. He couldn't allow this inconvenience to halt him from his duty, yet Xiaos mind began to churn still. Ripping the mystery girls hand off his throat, he kicked her off of himself. Quickly standing back up, in a more defensive position.

The two opposing figures stare at each other with undecipherable expression. Both wearing their own masks. His of an Oni, hers of a butterfly. The broken mask only covered the top left half of her face, and he prayed his eye's were playing tricks on him. A familiar colour of messy hair, lips coated in blood as it appears she had previously bitten herself while taking the impact of his kick. But what really through him off was that single eye. An eye that resembles your exact image. But why here? surely this couldn't have been you, he pleaded for it not to have been you.

" Wait! I got it! " You seem to beam, " I'll just reincarnate as soon as I am dead! Then I could embrace you just like this, all over again! "

" Fine then! Just watch me, Xiao. I'll prove you wrong. "

Feeling a sudden rush of pain course through his veins, Xiao stumbled backwards. Clutching onto his mask, desperately trying to snap himself back into reality. A low growl seems to rumble from his throat as he gasps, picking up his lowered head, the girl had yet to approach him.

After one more glance, the adeptus made up in his mind that it must have been you. The way those now empty eyes pierce into his tainted and damaged soul. It sent shivers down his spine, a feeling he had been unfamiliar with. Was this fear? He had no idea. Afraid that this was the fate you two had met, was this his karmic debt returning to torture him in every possible way?

Xiao could understand why he was brought back into his world of inner demons, but why... why were you here? you didn't do anything to deserve this. The girl he once knew, wished to live a happy life, one full of flowers and pillow talks. All that innocence, silly promises that seemed to make his heart flutter all came crashing down.

Fighting through the pain, he got back into a protective stance. You noticing his caution, slowly approach him. This caught him off guard, and that was his first mistake. Allowing your expression alone to throw him off. A single tear seemed to stray down your cheek, lunging forward at him with impressive speed. He lifts the shaft of his spear ahead of himself, protecting himself from the blade you pulled out from your hip. Deflecting it and jumping back, it was clear the boy had no interest in harming you.

" If you are who I believe, please listen to the words I say- argh! " Another sharp pain shot in the back of his head, interrupting his futile attempt to have a conversation with the reborn you. Xiao was unable to accept the fact you had become something so opposing to the angel you once were. Old memories of you smiling in his direction ate at his rotting sanity.

He knew this had to be you, a you that Xiao wished he didn't have to see. Your figure was covered head to toe in blood, hair knotted as you seemed to huff out shallow breaths. It was clear your body had been worn out from whatever you previously were doing.

" Please, you made a promise to embrace me once again. So why are you standing so far away, don't you remember?! "

His normally calm nature seemed to crack, a voice unbearable to hear. The way it would crack mid sentence, he was at a breaking point. Not wanting to harm his love.

The silence between the two of you felt like hell, air so heavy he could hardly breathe.

Xiao knows all too well, he had the upper hand in a one on one fight with you, but harming you was the last thing on his mind. Pleading once again, realizing his voice didn't seem to reach you at all.

He missed those small talks.

The screams all sound the same.

After another moment of silence and hesitance, you crouched down. Fingers tracing the ground without removing you gaze from his. He asked for your gentle stare to return, the way you look at him now with such emptiness- it truly hurt.

Its the old voice in his head that held him back.

Realizing what you had been attempting to do, it was his time to lunge forward. Pushing you away from the graphic pile of your now comrades bodies.

Xiao managed to gain a firm grip on your wrists in a single hand, while you were trapped beneath him. You squirm, thrash and scream in a desperate attempt to escape. Each shout felt like a knife had been plunged deep into his heart.

He hated to see you like this, the mask once keeping his face hidden found itself to dissolve in thin air, allowing you to see his saddened expression. Brows furrowed, tears streaming down his once expressionless face, his body began to quiver knowing what he had to do for this all to end.

"Will you be alright when I'm gone...?"

His unoccupied hand reached for his spear. Lifting it up above your form beneath him. He wanted this to be quick, a painless death... but that pain would only transfer back to him. Know that the hands you once adored, would be your own bitter end.

" How are your hands so soft, Xiao?? smooth~" You coed " I could touch them forever... " You brought his hand up to nuzzle your cheek into its warmth. Your smile always felt contagious, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as well.

Pitiful hiccups erupt from the boy, unsure how to handle the flood of emotions.

After a while, your struggle seemed to end. Not realizing what he had done. The ear piercing scream you let out, went unheard by the boy who was so focused on old memories, his head pounding. Opening his eyes, they widen in shock.

There you were, blood spilling from your chest as his eyes focus on the weapon now dug deep within your chest where your heart was.

The same weapon he used to slay evil, the weapon he used to protect you with a long time ago. Now, the weapon that he coated in your blood.

A sudden sense of distraught met the boy, crying out for you only to hear his own echoes. Still sat on top of you, he removes the weapon. Throwing it to the side as he clutches your body close to his own.

Blood and tears merge together.

Embracing you just how you promised, he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other allowed his hand to hold your head against his shoulder, nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Your blood painted his torso, staining his clothes.

You used to adore hearing his heartbeat on late nights like this... oh how he wished he could hear yours in this moment too.

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Graveyard

Frederick Chilton x Vampire Reader

For @storiesofsvu​​’s Fall Bingo! Anonymous request. 

Backstory stolen from AO17’s vampire Chilton AU (if she ever gets around to writing it, let it be known it was her idea first! Check out her fics on AO3!) Also thanks to AO17 and @detectivebarba​ for smut prompts when I was not horny enough to write this.

Warnings: NSFW. Gore/blood, character death(s?), rough sex (to the point of being dangerous if the people involved weren’t vampires), and yeeeaah… definitely some dubcon. Frederick is in a blood frenzy and doesn’t wait for consent before getting rough (but I’m in your head & you want it, so it’s ok). Weird Dom/sub vibe where he calls you master but absolutely has his way with you. Penetrative & oral sex. Not enough editing.

4,000 words

The silver light of a full moon was all that illuminated the rows of pale headstones, making them stand out against the black grass below. It was an old plot, most of the graves dating back to the nineteenth century, some as far back as the eighteenth, yet none were cracked or obscured by moss. The Chilton family plot was maintained as meticulously as their generational wealth.

You stood above one—the newest grave, a coffin-sized rectangle of fresh, loose soil cut into the ancient turf. A crimson tear streaked down your face.

“Frederick, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted it to come to this. I thought if I left, you would be safe. You were supposed to get over me and live a long, happy life.”

Beside you, Jack Crawford gave a low, muffled sob—his stoic FBI resolve breaking down as he accepted that this was his fault. It failed to elicit any pity from your cold, shattered heart.

“That’s right, you should be sorry,” you turned on him, teeth bared. “You were supposed to protect him! You should have known he’d be the target, but he was taken with only two bodyguards watching him. His own bodyguards! Why didn’t you put any resources into his safety when he risked his life for your investigation? You deserve to suffer like he did.”

You could have ripped him apart right there, but a noise snapped you from your rage. A shuffling of dirt like an animal burrowing underground. Then a ghostly hand broke through the loose soil in the moonlight.

Crawford reeled back and gave a hoarse scream, muffled by the gag stuffed in his mouth.

A second hand joined the first and flailed at the dirt around it, pushing at the earth until a head appeared. Frederick Chilton gasped for air as he surfaced, only to take an expression of confusion as he discovered the reflex was vestigial. He was dead: he no longer drew breath, his heart no longer pumped blood.

It was the first of many disappointments.

Being a vampire was a curse. You never wanted to turn him until you saw him trapped in that sarcophagus of an oxygen tank, his entire body red and charred except for pearly teeth that were constantly exposed. A deranged serial killer had bitten off his lips before pouring gasoline over him. When he couldn’t turn his head to look at you without wincing in pain, and he begged you to end his suffering, you finally gave him what he wanted.

An eternity banished from the warmth of the sun was mercy now.

The soil mounded jerkily where shoulders flexed and tried to escape the tight canal of graveyard dirt, but he struggled to make any more progress. He spat bitter earth from his unprotected mouth. His clothing—as he pried an arm out and examined the sleeve of the once-fine suit he was buried in—was likewise covered in dirt. Swiveling his head, he found you and began to pout pathetically.

“This is undignified. Help me.”

Dropping Crawford, who fell backward onto his bound hands, you stepped toward Frederick’s grave with a wry smile. His head was practically between your feet, and it gave you all sorts of ideas. If only the poor man had lips. You dropped to your knees and leaned down the final distance to kiss him, pressing your cold lips to his smooth teeth. He whined impatiently, but there wasn’t anything he could do to reciprocate—or resist. His helpless situation made a coil of lust spring to life in your abdomen.

“Poor Frederick,” you purred. “I could do anything I wanted to you right now...”

He growled his displeasure, two long fangs shining in the pale light. With renewed effort, he was able to free his other arm, but only made a few childishly ineffective attempts to claw his own way out, purposely throwing dirt on your shoes in the process. Rolling your eyes, you offered a hand.

Gripping him tight, you pulled as he struggled and kicked. Dirt crumbled around him, collapsing back into the empty grave—ground hollowing slightly as it filled his coffin. One final pull, and he was on his hands and knees on the surface.

As soon as he was free, he sprang to his feet with a snarl, grabbing your hair and tugging your head back to expose your throat.

“Rude,” he whispered as a set of sharp teeth bit down on the soft flesh of your neck. Several pinpoints of pain blossomed on your skin, but the blood he sucked from them was thick and black, and did nothing to sustain him. Frederick growled in frustration, biting harder to no avail. His hips rutted against you, and you pushed him away with a laugh.

“How do you feel?” Your lips curved with amusement. It was not uncommon for fledgling vampires to be drunk with their newfound powers, and Frederick seemed more lively than he had ever been in life.

“Hungry.” He sniffed the cool October air, scabbed nostrils flaring. This his pearly teeth flashed in your face. “No. Angry. Why do I still look this way?! I am a monster!”

“You were always going to be a monster. That was the price, remember?”

“I was supposed to get better.”

“You are. You can move. Are you in any pain?”

He flexed his hand. Though the muscles and complicated working of ligaments were exposed in gaps of destroyed skin, his expression remained calm as he watched his fingers move. “No.”

You slowly circled him, trailing your fingertips along his shoulders. Finally, you and he were both facing Jack Crawford, bound and attempting to crawl away through the grass.

“Hungry,” Frederick growled. The rumble in his throat continued long past the word, rising to a predatory pitch.

“I thought you’d like vengeance for your first supper.” You kissed his cheek. “He is not the most responsible for what happened to you, but the others are already dead or fled the country. How would you like to kill the man who put the SWAT team on Will Graham and left you defenseless?”

Frederick’s nostrils flared in and out as he stalked toward Crawford. A mangled mess of scars and sharp, exposed teeth, dressed in an expensive suit covered in graveyard soil, he was a vision of terror in the dark cemetery.

“Jack,” he said, swallowing regretfully. Almost apologetic.

Unlike your dark blood, he could smell Crawford’s moving in his veins—could see the life pulsing through his arteries like a glowing fire. It called to him. Revenge was an impulse he could resist, but the call of blood became a screaming voice inside his head, louder and louder.

“You know I have always had the utmost respect for you.” His eyes glinted red. “But I am famished.”

In a blur of motion, he was on top of Crawford, and sweet life-giving juices were bursting hot into his mouth. He sucked hard, flooding himself with nourishment that was strengthening, satiating, and irresistible. Its flavor was more than the coppery tang a human recognizes—he was aware of deep layers of heat and energy coursing from Crawford’s beating heart and flowing into Frederick’s dead veins, reviving and invigorating them. A transference of life itself.

Frederick told himself he would only drink enough to satisfy his hunger, not enough to kill the closest person he had to a friend. He knew from experience that it was possible to survive being fed upon. You used to use him as a regular snack before you grew guilty and left. When he fell in love with you, and you called it Stockholm Syndrome.

“I can’t—I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“You never hurt me,” Frederick pleaded, burying his face in your shoulder so that his neck was exposed next to your mouth. It was meant to be a sign of trust.

All you saw were scars in various stages of healing, and a man too addicted to you to protect himself.

The next thing Frederick Chilton was aware of was gnawing on the stump of his friend’s neck, trying to wring the last crimson drops from his nearly severed head. The last several minutes were gone—he was only vaguely aware of an insatiable hunger burning through him like fire and a monstrous instinct driving him beyond control.

His grip on the body loosened, and Crawford’s head lolled back over his shoulder, a trickle of blood flowing up his cheek from the corner of his mouth.

“Wow. That was hot.” You kneeled down to savor the mess Frederick made with his first kill. Your tongue extended to a point and caught a droplet trickling toward the corpse’s ear and licked the life-giving trail back to its source.

“I did not intend to kill him,” Frederick observed with a hint of confusion that he did not feel more guilt. His eyes were nearly black, blown wide into glowing halos of red.

“The first time is always like this. It takes practice to control the urges.” You explained, leaning forward to lick the carnage from his dripping mouth and sharp teeth. Beneath your tongue, his flesh moved and knit together, and the swathe of skin you revealed was pink and more whole than it had been.

“Every time you fed on me, was I this close to death?”

“Do you understand now? Leaving was the only way to protect you.”

His vegetarian diet and singular kidney made Frederick Chilton’s blood exceptionally delicious. When you first put him under your thrall, he was terrified you would kill him, and with good reason. But as time went on, fear mixed with the euphoria of you carrying him to bed, bringing him water, and stroking his forehead. You wanted him to recover his strength between feedings, but he was so lonely, those small, caring gestures made him soften. Eventually, the cycle of danger and affection broke him, leaving the once-proud doctor a heartsick mess.

He believed it was love. Maybe it was. Life had never been kind to him—perhaps a vampire preying on his blood was the kindest relationship he had. There was something so heartbreakingly vulnerable about that, you let yourself believe you could be together.

You loved him, too. So much. Too much.

You loved him enough to set him free.

It should have been the right thing to do—the best way to ensure he lived a long, healthy life. But now you wondered if you could have prevented the Red Dragon from abducting him had you been there. Then you wouldn’t have needed to turn him into a monster to save him.

Frederick was far too young and eager to be lost in memories or regrets—he had already reattached his mouth to Crawford’s neck and was enthusiastically making a mess.

The more he fed, the more his charred skin began to heal. Brown hair sprouted from his head. If he bothered to look up, he would realize he could see from both eyes, but he was fixated on his prey. You bit down on the mangled skin next to his regrowing lips, feeding together. The fresh blood ignited a fire in your veins, as it always did, but it felt new experiencing it with Frederick for the first time. It was thrilling to see the meticulous, reserved doctor so out of control, his suit sticky with soaked blood. Frederick’s feral growls reverberated through the corpse as he bit down again and again. Your lips brushed his as you both drank, pulling the body between you like a pair of hyenas.

Then his mouth was on yours, fingers tangling into your hair as he licked blood from your teeth, and your tongue circled his lips, gathering the succulent mess smeared sloppily over his face. He broke the kiss only long enough to bring his fingers to his lips. The flesh was still regrowing, pink and thin, but healing. He let out a giddy laugh and crushed them against yours, tongue swirling in the blood in your mouth.

The drained body dropped to the ground with a dull thud, forgotten as Frederick’s attention wandered to something more interesting. He pushed you down beside the corpse and continued to lap at the bloodstains on your lips, his mouth smearing streaks of red as he ravenously worked over your jaw and down your neck. A sharp nip sent shivers of arousal racing up your spine, which were echoed by the twitch of an erection pressing into your upper thigh.

You ran your hand down the front of his body until you found and palmed the bulge straining the fabric of his slacks. It was painfully hard, and he whimpered against your neck as you touched it. When you squeezed hard enough to find the outline of his cock, his lips broke from your skin with a ragged, “please.”

He rutted his hips, aggressively humping against your hand as he pressed his forehead to yours. Locking his darkened eyes on you, he demanded: “Please, master. Let me have you.”

“My, aren’t we deferential, you teased. Calling you master was appropriate, given your relationship, but his behavior was anything but reverent.

You twined the hand he wasn’t defiling behind his neck, fingers carding through his hair, teasing a few wild strands into a semblance of the way he used to style it. He whined impatiently, grinding your palm faster. Then your fingers curled, gripping hard as you tugged his mouth to yours in a passionate, ardent kiss. Your tongue pushed into his mouth, savoring the unique taste of him mingled with his fresh meal.

“Take those filthy clothes off and fuck me.”

The blood sizzling through his veins like a drug and the adrenaline of his first kill were all the foreplay he needed. He fumbled for his belt, and a sharp metallic crack rang out through the silent graveyard as the buckle snapped in half with his unexpected strength. He would regret the broken belt when he’d calmed down, but for now, Gucci didn’t matter so long as he was one step closer to inside you.

You were wriggling out of your clothing, but he put a possessive hand on your top tore it off. The material shredded like tissue, baring your skin to the moonlight. His eyes lit up wildly at the sight.

“That was expensive,” you chastised.

He met your complaints with a growl and pinned your wrists against his headstone. The back of your head struck the marble hard, and he gripped your wrists with enough force to snap them if you were human—but you weren’t. Your legs circled around his waist as he kissed you roughly, snarling into his mouth. He had stripped off his jacket, but the blood was soaked all the way through his shirt. Beneath it, his cock stood at its full, impressive thickness. It was always more than you expected from the bookish doctor, but now it was shockingly red and throbbing next to the pale, ashen skin of his bared legs.

His cock rubbed between your thighs, making your heightened senses pulsate with need.

It was so familiar, yet so different. He looked like the same Frederick Chilton you’d treated as a pet all those months, but there was no shyness or fear, no hesitation. You sired him as a vampire, but now he would make you his.

Just when you expected him to fuck you into the ground without any preparation, his grip softened around your wrists. The bloody kiss moved down your jaw, your neck. He released your arms and began removing the rest of your clothing more carefully, not tearing it, kissing every new inch of skin he revealed as he worked down your chest.

“I missed you,” he whispered. The point of his tongue laved over your hardened peaks, swirling in circles that made your hips buck and writhe, and left behind a wet trail of red. “So perfect.” His tongue traced lower, flicking over your sternum. “I missed you so much.” He kissed your stomach, slowly pulling down the waistband of your underwear. Then he dove between your thighs, lapping at your aching sex like a man starved.

This was more the Frederick you remembered: needy and eager to please.

Wet, lewd sucking sounds ignited the cold night air, and your fingers grasped at the headstone. He wasted no time—gave no slow build-up before he was voraciously snarling into your swollen flesh, sending vibrations through your body that electrified your nerves, making you shift your hips to get away from his relentless hunger. Your writhing turned into a strangled cry as he pushed your legs wider apart and held them open so you were unable to escape the maddening pleasure.

“Fuck… you taste so good,” he growled as his mouth fucked you. “Come for me.”

You weren’t going to have much choice—your body struggled, but his grip was too tight to let you move away from the wet heat of his tongue. He gripped your thighs so hard his nails broke the skin, black blood seeping out. The wounds healed instantly, and pain and pleasure swam through your head, then doubled as he suddenly pushed two fingers into your tight entrance. The stretched burned while his mouth sucked and soothed the throbbing ache above it, sending wave after wave of heat shooting between your legs.

“Come for me, master,” Frederick demanded again, his glowing red eyes flicking up your body to meet yours.

A strangled moan clawed its way out of your tightened throat. One of your hands curled into his freshly regrown hair, but the impudent bastard who dared call you “master” would not let you guide his pace as your hips helplessly tried to thrash against the pleasure.

“I want your sweet cum in my mouth. Let me taste your delicious essence, master. Come for me.”

His fingers fucked you harder, curling so they dragged against the sensitive nerves toward your belly. As if he realized he no longer needed to breathe, he took you deeper and deeper into his mouth, burying his nose in your curls as he swallowed around you, saliva and blood drenching his face.

“That’s it. Fuck,” he moaned into you as he felt your muscles tightening—a long, stuttering groan of arousal that pushed you to the precipice and over it. The heat pooling between your legs flared to an unbearable inferno your body could not contain, and so it broke—your back arching as the graveyard disappeared behind your eyelids and you heard your own voice screaming out through the air in a tone you scarcely recognized. All while Frederick’s wet mouth continued sucking your trembling, spasming flesh.

He moaned with pleasure at your release coating his tongue. “Yesss,” his breath fanned your twitching flesh before he lapped up more. “Yes, that is it. Oh, how I missed you, my master. That succulent flavor is even better now. I can taste so much more.” With a low growl, he delved in again, burying himself between your legs.

“Oh god. Oh god,” you sobbed.

He kept moaning into you, and each time, it sent another aftershock shuddering through your body. Your legs were heavy, and you tried pushing his head away, whining, eyes rolling back, but unwilling to say, “stop.” So he didn’t.

After several minutes of exquisite torture, he licked his lips and sucked his fingers clean. He studied his work with satisfaction. You were a mess: trembling, eyes unfocused, mouth hanging limply open. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he finally let them go.

“That was a lovely warm-up,” he purred, smirking as your eyes widened slightly and you let out an exhausted little whimper. “I am even more turned on after that show.”

Leaning down, he slipped his tongue between your parted lips.

“Taste that?” he hummed before delving his tongue into your mouth again. “You are magnificent. That is the way you taste for me… how aroused I make you. That is how good I will make you feel for the rest of eternity.”

A wanton moan was your only answer, your fingers winding into his hair to deepen the kiss.

He broke it. “I want you to be mine forever.” He had the demanding, self-important tone of a toddler trying to be taken seriously by adults.

When you didn’t reply, teasing a strand of his hair around your finger as you pondered the reality of forever for two immortal vampires, the uncertainty evaporated from his expression and was replaced by possessive anger.

Your legs were over your head, and his cock was pounding into you relentlessly before you could react. You cried out as he stretched you open, his cock painfully hot and thick with the large meal of fresh blood he’d consumed and the raw frenzied state of being newly turned. His eyes were still feverish red as they stared down into yours, and sharply focused.

“I want you… to be… mine.”

“Oh, god, Frederick. I love you like this.” Your ankles were propped on either side of his neck, and the stretch of him pushing your knees toward your head burned. You reached up between them to stroke his hair, but he pinned your wrists to the headstone as he fucked you hard.

“Mine. Fuck, oh—fuck. Mine,” he growled and snarled above you, as if possessing you was the only thing he cared about. Heat spread through your body again.

Then suddenly, his curled lips went slack, eyes soft. He leaned down to kiss you as his hips kept rolling into you at a deep and quick but smoother pace.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Stay with me. Please be mine. Let me belong to you. Stay?” There was trembling desperation in his voice—the same you recognized when he begged you not to erase his memories, so he would at least have his heartbreak when you were gone.

“I will. I won’t leave you again. You’re like me, now—a monster. I don’t have to leave to keep you safe.” Your arms were still firmly trapped, but you were able to tilt your head forward to press your forehead to his. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to make you a killer. But I’m so happy we can be together now. I’ll teach you everything I know. We’ll hunt together. We’ll hide from the sun together and watch centuries fall by like rain. I love you, and I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again.”

With a soft gasp, his lips pressed against yours.

And then the force of his hips picked up again. His grip clenched around your wrists, pressing them hard against the smooth marble. Though he no longer drew breath—his heart did not beat against his rib cage, nor did he pant with exertion—his moans became hoarse and ragged. Those glowing red eyes remained fixed on yours, as if you were one thing in the universe that mattered. In all of the eternity that lay before him, you were the only thing he wanted.

“Say it. Say you will be mine forever.”

“I’m yours, Frederick. Forever.”

“Thank you, master. Thank you,” he murmured obsequiously before hammering into you in a blur of speed that surpassed human limits. Yet, with your supernatural senses, you could still feel every detailed ridge and vein of his cock dragging along your tight walls, stroking every nerve ending.

“Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine,” he chanted with each thrust. “You feel so good, master. So good. I am going to come inside you. Would you like that?”

“P-please!”

It was all you could manage to say. He was slamming himself inside you with such unbelievable force, you couldn’t speak. All you could do was lay there and watch him take you—his fat cock disappearing inside you again and again as you swallowed up his massive length, his head thrown back as he rode you, but always his eyes cast down, never taking them off of you.

With a spine-chilling wail that split the night sky, his hips snapped against yours in one last, powerful thrust, and he emptied himself inside you, claiming you with his seed. Behind you, the headstone cracked, his hands and your wrists crushing into the solid marble. The engraved year of his death crumbled off the rock.

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[bimswritings]

Savage Opress x Reader

Request: Open

Warnings:Yandere Themes, canon-typical violence

Summary: On their conquest of the universe, Savage finds himself drawn to one of the newest captives in their spread of power.

A/n: The next chapter of ‘This is our way’ is up on my Ao3. It will be posted here after I finish and upload my current Armorer x reader fic.

__________________________________________________

Your planet wasn’t anything special. Located out in the outer rim, it was little more than a moon compared to its neighbors. Its land was barren and cold, an almost ever present frost covering the ground.

Yet you and your people had made it your home, learning how to grow a small amount of crops and mine the rare metals underneath. A job you had yourself, providing enough money for you and your younger brother to live on until he was old enough to work as well. What was produced was enough to give your people an economy, yet remain under the radar and out of the war that ravaged the rest of the planet. The Republic and Separatist had limited interactions this far out at best, and you were able to enjoy a peaceful life, if not a bit exhausting.

Unfortunately, it was this isolation that had been your saving grace for so long that also proved your downfall.

Their ships arrived in numbers you had never seen before, landing on the grey dirt and unloading copious amounts of armored men and women. Your village didn’t even have time to put up a fight, overpower and subdued before you could even think of a weapon to protect yourself.

Soon you were corralled into the town center, separated into groups seemingly at random. Families were torn apart, mother from child and husband from wife. The entire time your brother clung to your leg, hiding as the armed guards shoved you along through the crowds. You tried to stay out of sight the best you could in an attempt to draw the least amount of attention to yourself, hoping, praying, that you could go unnoticed enough to keep him with you.

Above it all, standing out against the dull sky with their vibrant colors, were two Zabraks. Creatures you had only ever heard about in stories from the occasional trader that passed through, and had been just that, stories, until now. Their horns alone were enough to send shivers down your spine, each one protruding from the crown of theirs heads like a twisted version of a crown. Unlike a crown, you knew they weren’t for decoration. The damage they could undoubtedly do if provoked only solidified their threatening presence.

Now they stood above you all, tattoos illuminated in the light of the setting sun. The shorter red one stood in front, chin raised and chest puffed with pride as he looked over your people with another armored man, this one clearly human. He seemed to not even notice the cold, bare chest on full display for anyone to see the unique markings that marred his skin. Just beyond him stood the second Zabrak. His yellow markings stood out even more than his companions, only emphasized by his large size. None of the others even came close to his height, let alone the bulk you could tell he possessed under his armor. Even from here you could tell he could wrap a single hand around your neck and snap it easily with his strong fingers.

His gaze was just as impassionate, if not more so, seeming more bored than anything as he watched the proceedings.

“Come on! Move it!” One of the guards yelled, catching your shoulder as he pushed you forward, reminding you bitterly of Telik being led to slaughter. You kept Jay close, keeping your head down as you passed more guards, pace increasing. Just a few more yards and you would be with the others. Whatever the future had in store for you, at least you would still have each other.

“Hey, you!” A voice called, clearly directed your way, though you pretended not to hear. A cold sweat broke out across your skin as footsteps closed in, hand reaching out and stopping you in your tracks.

“Children don’t go in this area.” He growled, prying Jay from where he hid, ignoring his cries and your screams as he was pulled away. A guard stepped forward to hold you back, another coming to his aide as you fought to get to your brother, who was making it just as difficult for his own captor to drag him away. Even with the muscle gained from the mines you struggled against them, putting up your own desperate fight.

“Stop moving you little- fuck!” He yelped, pulling his arm away and out of Jay’s mouth, which had latched on to the only unarmored part of the hand holding him.

Immediately he turned and was running back towards you, tears streaming down his face and blue eyes wide with fear. In his panic to get back, his childish coordination caught up to him and his feet caught on one another, throwing him to the ground as he was left to scramble. All the while the guard he had bitten approached. 

“You little brat!” He snarled. His hand moved to his hip, producing a whip from its depths. The long weapon crackled to life, sparking with energy as it extended to full length.

Your own stomach dropped in fear as you watched. 

Jay, the one light in your life, the only person you had left, was in danger. You were his older sister. You were supposed to protect him, guide him into adulthood in place of your parents. Be there to kiss away every injury, wipe away the tears after every nightmare.

A new burst of energy flooded your system, giving you the strength needed to push past the guards, leaving them stumbling as you flew towards Jay.

The man brought his arm down, whip swinging in a wide arc aimed at the defenseless boy on the ground. 

It didn’t even have the chance to hit him. You slid the last few feet on the rough terrain, body covering his at the last second and jolting as the electric weapon met your clothed back, ripping through the material like a stone through water. A pained scream tore itself from your lips. Not even when you had gotten a burn from a small explosion in the mines had it hurt this much. In fact, you would take a dozen burns before this. This was just pure agony, the pain not even limited to a single area as the electricity coursed through every part of your body, invading every nerve.

The man was far from done though, and he repeated the action again and again, turning your skin into a bloody mess as Jay continued to cry underneath you, struggling in your protective grip. Still you held tightly, biting your lip to muffle your cries with every lash.

No one lifts a finger to help, not even looking in your direction in fear of the same treatment as they continue to shuffle along. You don’t even have it in your heart to blame them, knowing your reaction would be much the same if the situation was reversed.

Unbeknownst to you, your little altercation has caught the eye of the golden Zabrak, a small twinge in his heart at the deja-vu feeling he gets from the scene. From your age, he can only assume that the boy is your brother. You look too young for him to be your son.

He has flashbacks to his own brother, giving himself to the cursed Nightsisters in exchange for his life, only to be forced to kill him in a cruel show of power.

Before he realizes it, his hand has fallen to his lightsaber, already taking a step to where you are. He only gets a step before Maul calls to him, pulling him away to the ships and leaving him to look back over his shoulder at you crumpled form.

“Come. We must set up camp. The prisoners will be dealt with later.” Maul chuckles. “Those that survive anyways.”

And so he follows, leaving your fate to the Mandalorian who has yet to relent in his cruelty. But out of sight doesn’t mean out of mind, and the memory of your form curled on the ground, taking every lash with little more than a jolt and muffled cry, sticks in the front of his mind and prevents him from having a single moment of rest.

It's hours before he’s able to slip away. Between his brother and Death Watch, it’s nearly impossible for him to make his way to where the captives are being held. They’re all gathered in one of the far corners of the camp, held in place by the ropes around the wrist and looking miserable as they huddle for warmth against the lightly falling snow. He feels no guilt for what their eventual fate will be. They’re nothing to him, mere insects in his brothers plans. Animals to the slaughter. All for the greater good.

The fear he can feel radiating off them feeds a twisted sense of pride within him. The Sith side of him. They know who he is. They know he could easily kill them with no consequence should he choose. 

He’s not here for them though.

A dozen yards away, your body is still laying in the same spot as before, more lifeless than when he last saw you. This time there’s no Mandalorian enforcer above you. Instead, he’s replaced with the small boy from earlier. What remains of your shirt is peeled back from the skin and even Savage, who’s used to many grisly sights, grimaces at your wound. The skin that isn’t lacerated is red and swollen, and he now notices that the young boy has shed his own shirt, using ripped strips to clean the blood away and form a crude version of bandages. He’s busy fumbling over himself, fingers clumsy and stiff from the cold as he does his best to care for the wound with no medical supplies.

So focused on your wounds, he doesn’t even hear the large Zabrak approaching, not until it’s far too late. To his credit, and Savage’s amusement, the boy refuses to leave you, placing his body in front of yours. His bare chest is rapidly moving up and down with fear, thin body on full display. Not an ounce of muscle on him, Savage muses, moving closer to your body. If he doesn’t get you proper medical attention soon the wounds will undoubtedly become infected and kill you, if the blood loss hasn’t already damned your fate.

When he goes to pick up your limp body however, he’s stopped by your brother. Well, stopped is being rather generous. It’s more like he’s latched himself onto Savage’s waist, small fist beating at him with the strength one would expect of a child. He might not have even known he was hitting him if he wasn’t watching it happen.

It’s times like this that he’s most grateful for his cursed strength, easily detaching the boy from him and holding him by the back of his neck, tucking him under one arm as the other reaches for you. It's almost concerning how cold your body is against his own skin, and he’s more careful as he lifts you over his shoulder. His brother would surely find it laughable if he saw how gentle he was being with you.

Without hesitance, he turns back to the main camp, ignoring the looks the others cast his way as he carries your unconscious and broken body over his shoulder, your brother still fighting under his other.

Let them gossip. There’s none that will stand against him.

____________________________________

The first thing you’re aware of is warmth. Surrounding and enveloping your form, begging you to stay as it threatens to drag you back into the land of dreams. That in itself is enough to alarm you. The heating was always turned off at night to save energy, replaced in favor of thick blankets made from the local TekTek wool.

That’s your second red flag. TekTek wool is warm, yet coarse and scratchy. The fabric currently piled on top of and under you is significantly softer, having a slight musk to it.

Finally managing to drag your eyes open, the sight that greets you is not one you were expecting. 

Dark fabric makes up the majority of the tent you find yourself in. It’s clearly worn, yet does a surprising job of keeping the wind outside from entering, slight ripples waving across the fabric yet never entering. A fire sits in the very center, smoke curling up and through a hole in the ceiling. It’s glow provides the only source of light in the space, illuminating the few objects scattered around, including the cot you currently find yourself residing on. Buried under layers of blankets, your hands travel to the bandages wrapped around your chest, the only thing covering your upper body and providing little warmth in comparison to the blankets you were previously under.

How did you get here? Where was Jay? The last thing you remember was the invaders arriving, then nothing. So the question was, how had you gotten from there to here? Alone in an unfamiliar tent.

Your questions are soon answered, a shuffling from the front of the tent drawing your attention. From between the flaps emerges a large figure, his horns nearly catching the fabric as he enters.

You both freeze, eyes locking on one another, equally surprised. There’s a moment of pause, each of you trying to determine your next move. It’s only broken when he takes a step forward, cautiously, but still sending you into a panic. Ignoring the nearly debilitating pain coming from your back, you scramble to the edge of the cot, pressing your back against the fabric and you can feel it straining against your weight. Trying your best to look intimidating, you send a glare his way.

“Where’s my brother?”

He says nothing for a moment, and you almost repeat yourself, cut off as he begins approaching. He’s there before you know it, long legs easily eating the space as his arms reach for you, forcably turning you around despite your resistance. He lets out a grumble as he inspects your back, scoffing about how you’ve ‘reopened them’.

The next thing you know, his hands are worming their way under the wrappings, loosening them as he goes to remove them.

The panic you had felt before was nothing compared to now, knowing where this scenario was going all to well. The stories of what you had heard from other village girls filling your mind, darkening your thoughts as you could only imagine what this monster was about to do to you.

“No! Stop!” You sobbed, knowing full well that there was nothing you could actually do against his strength. The bandages become looser, only held up by your hand as you wildly swing out with the other. All the while you try to distance yourself from him. 

“Please!”

To your surprise, he pauses. His first sign of even showing he heard you since entering. His gaze never leaves you, and you can see the debate going on within his eyes. About what, your guess was as good as any. All that you cared was that he had stopped for the moment, allowing you to cover yourself with one of the many blankets in an attempt to preserve any decency you had left.

Growling, her turns and storms out the way he came, a wisp of freezing wind invading the tent as you're given a glance at the dark night sky outside before you’re once again left on your own. Not for long though, and you think he’s returned once again when the flaps open, only to reveal a young woman in similar armor that you had seen earlier. Not the person you trusted the most right now, but you still preferred her over the large Zabrak from earlier.

She approaches slowly, setting a medkit down on the bed as she smiles your way. “I’m here to change your bandages.” She extends a hand your way, which you only look at, neglecting to come out of your little corner. 

“Please. You’ve opened your wounds again. If you don’t come out now, I’ll just wait for you to pass out and change them then.” she sounds a bit exhausted, and it takes a few more minutes of coaxing before you allow her access to your back, keeping your back towards her as she slowly unwraps the bindings. She deposits them into the fire, leaving you to watch them burn to ash as she retrieves a small container from the medkit. 

Inside is a blue gel, surprisingly warm as it touches your skin and leaves a pleasant numbness. You can almost feel her gaze burning into your skin as she applies the gel, eyes skittering across old scars, fingers even tracing them when visible underneath the new wounds. Seeming to sense your unease, she rushes through the rest, quickly wrapping new bindings around your torso, apologizing with every small grunt of pain you let out. 

Far too quick for your liking she’s done, packing up her things as she prepares to head out. If she’s leaving, then that means there’s more of a chance that he’ll come back. In fact, you have no doubt that she’ll go and tell him once she’s out of here.

Snapping the case closed, she turns back to you and hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t know what you did to gain Savage’s attention, but believe me,” her green eyes lock onto yours, holding a sense of severity that chills you to the bone. 

“, he’s your best chance of surviving.”

With that you’re alone once again, left to your own thoughts and the crackling of the fire, which has gone down a significant amount since you first woke.

What did she mean by that? Gained his attention? And he was one of the ones who lead the attack on your home. Why would he be your saving grace? If anything, he would be the most likely to kill you.

Once again the flap opens, and you almost want to groan about the number of people going in and out, letting the heat out of the tent.

It’s the Zabarak. Savage, you remember the woman from before calling him. This time he has some additions. A cloak draped over one arm and a plate in hand. He moves slower than before, almost cautiously approaching you as he sets the items on the far end of the bed.

“Eat.” His voice is a deep baritone, rich yet monotone as he speaks, nodding towards the plate before moving towards the fire. Your eyes never leave his form as he tosses more wood onto the flame, moving them about without a fear of burning himself. Despite the fear still gripping your nerves, the food is tempting and only now do you realize how empty your stomach is, almost turning in on itself as it lets out a low rumble.

You grab the plate cautiously, picking at its contents as the man continues to poke at the fire. When you do finish, you find yourself wishing you had taken more time with it, no longer having the small distraction from your current situation. Despite the desire to throw on the warm looking cloak, you don’t. While he had directed you to eat, he had said nothing about the cloak. The last thing you wanted to do was make him angry, especially after he had shown how easily he could manhandle you earlier.

“You’re going to travel with me from now on.” He spoke, his back still towards you, yet it still carried loudly through the air, leaving no room for you to mistake his words. “If you have any objections, your fate will be the same as the rest of your village.”

You have no idea why he’s saying this, not when he could just direct you without any information. There’s only one thing on your mind though, present from the very beginning and still burning on your tongue.

“Where’s my brother.” You ask once again, praying to the maker you’ll get an answer this time. “What about him?”

His shoulders tense for a moment. The first emotion he’s shown besides anger.

“He will be allowed to come along given that he trains as a Mandalorian warrior. This is the best option for him.”

You let out a sigh of relief. While being forced to train with the ones who captured him wasn’t an ideal situation, you could only be thankful that he wasn’t fated for something more unfortunate. The only thing that worried you was his size. He was never much of a fighter, too kind to want to cause others pain. You would need to be there for him.

“I...I can still see him.”

“Yes.”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if you should ask another question. He already seemed to be wearing thin with his patience, but you had to know. You would never get a moment's rest until you knew.

“Why am I here.”

He doesn’t answer right away, throwing a few more logs onto the fire before turning to face you. His face was nothing but shadows, eyes standing out in startling contrast. His footsteps were slow and heavy as he made his way over to your form, unable to back away any further as you already find yourself in a corner. He grabs the cloak as he passes, the article almost ridiculously small in his hands.

As soon as he’s close enough, he lifts his arms and you flinch, expecting him to strike you out of annoyance and anger. It never comes though. The only feeling was that of heavy fabric settling on your shoulders, only there a moment before it’s clasped and you feel yourself being pulled forward. 

Savage’s hands are wound tightly into the fabric, forcing your face to nearly touch his. This close you can see every detail of the markings splashed across his skin, the black only making his amber eyes burn even brighter, nearly suffocating with the intensity with which they stare. Almost like molten gold themselves.

His breath fans across your skin, lips nearly brushing yours as his forehead grazes your own, making you whimper as his horns roughly scrap the skin.

“You’re mine now. You will never leave my side, there at my every beck and call no matter what I may need. If you even think about trying to leave or betray me,” he pushed further, forcing you to lean back onto the bed. His weight pushed down enough to keep you in place without being crushing, one hand releasing the fabric of the collar to travel up your face. It brushes the hair away, catching the tear you hadn’t even realized had escaped.

“I’ll force you to watch as I kill your brother in the most painful way imaginable.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans forward, baritone voice speaking lowly in your ear as his lips tickle the skin.

“You’ll wish, beg, that I had killed you as well instead of what will happen to you after.”

[princessbatears]

Winter Challenge 2021 - Day 20 (Hiking)

Pairing: Werewolf Frankie Morales x Female Reader Summary: You're not so sure Frankie's "best sunrise spot" is worth the early morning trek POV: Reader Warnings: language Words: 425 A/N: From my Lunar Cycle/Bitten universe

When one person is in a relationship with another, they sometimes do activities they wouldn’t normally do because their partner loves them. That’s why you go hiking with Frankie more often than just on full moon nights. He comes alive in nature, he always has, and you enjoy participating in that.

But at 7:15 A.M. on a winter Saturday, you’re questioning if you love him enough to be freezing your ass off on this hike to “the best sunrise spot ever.” You haven’t even had any fucking coffee.

“I promise, honey, it’s going to be worth it,” Frankie says for the dozenth time, likely sensing how miserable you are as your calves burn on this hill.

You make a non-committal noise, not trusting that any words out of your mouth will be pleasant.

He grabs your hand, the preternatural warmth of his Wolf seeping through your glove. It helps your mood a little.

“If this area weren’t so popular with hikers, I’d love to roam it as a Wolf,” he says wistfully. “There’s so much life in this forest that I wish I could experience that way.”

Squeezing his hand, you feel your resentment melting away. This is why you come. “They’re beautiful woods.”

The path gets steeper, requiring some tricky footwork over slick rocks. Frankie goes first, then reaches out to assist you.

You make the mistake of looking down and feel your stomach drop. When did it get so high? “I don’t know...”

“I won’t let you fall,” he says in his soothing, steady voice. He grasps your arms, letting you hang on with your full weight as you maneuver the area on shaky legs. “You’ve got it, babe!”

Once you’re up, he kisses your temple, his arm snaking around your waist. “Oh my god,” you pant, heart thundering. "Please tell me there isn't more spots like that!"

“That was the worst of it. The rest is smooth and flat.”

It’s only a few more minutes before he stops at the overlook. There’s a couple of benches, one of which you collapse onto.

As you catch your breath, you gaze over the valley, which is glittering with cotton candy pink and tangerine frost as the sun begins to rise above it. It’s unbelievably gorgeous. It sparkles so brightly you have to shield your eyes.

“Frankie, it’s incredible!”

Pulling you against him, he smirks. “See, wasn’t it worth it?”

“Yes, it was worth it,” you have to agree. “But, next time, can we get some coffee first?”

He laughs. “We’ll do coffee first.”

Thank you SO much for reading this story; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 🥰

Frankie Morales Masterlist Werewolf Masterlist

[prose-for-hire]

Together under the moon

Pairing: Oz x male!werewolf!reader

Request: could I request something for oz? enthusiastic male reader who is mayhaps also a werewolf and has been for him for a while and finally gets the guts to confess to him! whether its fluff or not idc bc I'm a sucker or fluff and angst but i rlly enjoy your work so thank you for seeing this!!!

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Oz gets a little hurt. But nothing is described.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Thanks for your patience, hope this is okay !! 💜🖤

You had loved him for as long as you could remember now. You had been friends for so long but these feelings that you harboured in private you just weren’t ready to share. You didn’t want to lose the close relationship you already had.

You were completely, blissfully head over heels for him. Oz. He acted so cool and unaffected, but you knew that he had such a sweet and kind soul.

And he got you, like he really got you. He was a werewolf like you.

Becoming a werewolf had never really been on your bucket list. You had been bitten one evening when you had taken a misguided walk after dark. It had devastated you at first. You had confided in him, knowing already that he was a werewolf too.  He had helped you adjust. Pulled you into a hug when you thought you couldn’t go on that way any longer. It had near-broken his heart when he saw you that way. You were usually so enthusiastic and sweet.

You had been worried when you thought he was graduating, wishing that you could still see him every day. Spend all your time together. In comfortable silence and others with you chattering, gushing over your interests. Him encouraging you softly. He near melted for you. So, when you found out he was re-doing the year you were secretly so pleased.

You were the reason he realised he was attracted to men. He had just gone ‘huh’ and shrugged when he realised and just accepted that he liked you. Only now, it was hard for him to actually verbalise his affection for you.

He found expressing his earnest feelings harder despite how often he tried. He would open his mouth, ready to confess how much he wanted you to be his boyfriend. But then you would look up form what you were doing and make his words fade back into nothing.

It was afternoon and you and Oz had a free period together. You loved this time of day because you could spend it just you and him. You rush into the library, a whirlwind of enthusiasm as you sat beside him and waved a little. He began to smile in that wry way he would when you made your presence known to him.

You had run in, gushing over everything that had happened and excited you in the last few hours since you saw him. He listened closely, he always did when you spoke. Even when he wasn’t as invested in the topic as you were, he always loved hearing your infectious excitement.

“Cool, man, very cool” He nodded. He adored you. Your enthusiastic nature was incredibly endearing to him. He wanted to spend all of his time with you.

“What’re you working on?” You asked, a smile tugged at his lips again. When you asked questions you were always genuinely interested in the reply. Ready to hang onto every word. You were special to him.

“Another song - for tonight. We thought as a band we’d give the whole gig thing a go”

“Nice! Are you gonna play ‘Together under the moon’?!” You couldn’t hold yourself back from gushing, that song was one of your favourites by Dingoes. Saying that, you did claim this about all the songs they played.

“Yeah, it’s on the setlist” Oz shrugged a little but his face always softened when he was talking to you. In a way it never did with anyone else, no matter how fond of them he was.

“You’re super talented! You say you wrote that one by yourself?” You praised him, missing the slight blush tinging his complexion as you laid such kind words upon him. He began to open his mouth to speak, to explain his inspiration behind it.

But he was interrupted as everyone else rushed into the library, their faces were solemn.

Giles explained that there was a wolf hunter in town. A really cruel one, his speciality was hunting werewolves while they were human, catching them and hunting them for sport later. It made everyone in the room’s blood run cold. Especially yours and Oz’s. You weren’t only worried about yourselves, but the idea of the other getting taken this way. It was horrible to even think about it.

There was a tenuous plan, whereby Giles suggested that you would have to wait it out until research told you otherwise. The group split into two halves so that you and Oz were split up and the others can provide back up. That way, if the hunter came across one of you, he wasn’t able to potentially capture the both of you at the same time.

You were both incredibly important parts of the Scooby gang so everyone nodded along to this plan, wanting to assist you both the best they could.

You didn’t want to be separated from him and the lingering gaze he gave you told you that he didn’t want to part from you either. He loved you, wanted to be there with you. Even if neither of you had spoken on it, in this moment somehow you knew. Even if you were still nervous to act on it.

Oz left you in the care of Willow and Giles. You were nervous, pacing and wringing your hands. You had so much nervous energy. The further he was away from you the harder it felt. You couldn’t bear being away from him.

You eventually sat down, leg bouncing still but you had appeared to calm down a little.

“You should tell him, you know…” Willow said kindly, watching how your gaze was still on the door from where Oz and the others had left through.

“What?” You asked. You were fond of Willow, she had been very nice to you ever since you had come out to her. She understood, maybe even more than she comprehended herself.

“U-uh, you and Oz with the softness and the heart-eyes” She murmured a little, faltering as she realised she could have gotten it wrong. But you smiled at her.

“Is it obvious?”

“Only to people with eyes” She said, although she was smiling. Trying to distract you from your worry. To give you something to hold on to. Telling him how you felt.

You appreciated her friendship and her encouragement. You felt Oz’s eyes on you when you were in the same room. You dared to hope he felt the same, just like how you had read his expression earlier. His innate need to be by your side. Because you felt it too.

But you often second-guessed yourself. You could have been projecting your own feelings. But hearing this from Will just confirmed it. Your love was shared.

The sun had set and it was early evening. You were still in the library with your minders. Willow was practicing a few spells just in case the hunter came your way. Just as she whispered a few practice incantations there was a massive bang at the door.

All three of you jumped, looking up. Hoping it had been Willow’s spell gone wrong and not worse.

Buffy and Xander ran in, turning your fears true. It was Oz. The hunter had managed to take him. Buffy was limping, holding her side. You didn’t blame her. you thanked her for protecting him the best you could. But you got angry yourself. Because it was him.

Your usual demeanour changed. Had an edge to it. You were kind-hearted and near wholesome for the most part but not now. Not when he was in danger. His heart called out to you. His cries. You felt it in your very soul.

You ran to where Buffy had said that it had happened. They warned you against it, tried to stop you but you just ran. As fast as your legs could take you. Through the thick undergrowth and past crumbling cemetery plots.

You saw blood. A trail of it. Leading towards the abandoned warehouse on the corner. You couldn’t not follow it, despite your instinct telling you it was going to be bad.

You felt this pull. This need for you to follow the path. The path to him.

You ran into the room, spotting him immediately. He had gotten away. Managed to release himself from the hunter’s grip but not without being hurt in the process. He had

“Oz!” You shouted, voice echoing around the abandoned warehouse. He was crouched on the floor holding his side.

“God, Oz, are you okay?!” You ran full speed over to him kneeling beside him, “I couldn’t stay away, I came as soon as I could!” You explained, your touch gentle with him, expecting the damage. You lifted his shirt up gently. Luckily it was a surface wound but you would patch him up once you got him back to your place. You explained this to him.

“It’s ok” He shook his head at you, his hand resting over yours as you let go of his t-shirt, “I knew you were there with me”

“Yeah?”

“We’re always together under the moon” He said, wincing slightly after the fight he had put up against the hunter. The song. It was about you.

You gasped, whispering feelings that had only been allowed the release in this moment. You cupped his cheek, eyes staring into the other’s. 

You needed to leave, before the hunter tracked his blood the way he had. Your werewolf instincts made it easier, but it was only a matter of time.

But before you helped him to his feet, took his weight and helped him back to yours, there was something you had to do. It had been building between you for so long. You knew so completely that he was yours. Wanted you to be his. You just had to.

You kissed him. You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You had almost lost him. Your lips met his and he responded immediately. Pulling you closer, the scratch forgotten with his innate need for you. Instinctual yearning. Love. All of it. In that moment, neither of you knew where he ended and you began. You were connected. Soulmates. This kiss, passionate and full of urgency told you everything. Confessed all. As if you could read the other’s thoughts. The wolves inside you that had been calling for so long for the other took over.

This was no mere lust. Both of you with this kiss weaved stories of love. Of adoration. Desperation to name this feeling.

You were destined to be together, hold each other this way. To love him was as easy as breathing and as soon as you thought it, he knew.

From that moment, you truly would always be together. Connected by love. The moon blessing your union.

[spitefulwriters]

JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera (1.1k)

But sometimes – sometimes, nights were like this. Moonlit curls splashed on a pillow, Kiara salted and still catching her breath underneath him, flushed with a lip-bitten grin.

He leans down for a kiss, slow and lazy. And it tumbles out of his mouth before he can fully assess, murmured against her lips.

“We should go out for a bit.”

Or, JJ and Kiara take on the night with an accidental date night.

Chasing daylight was becoming easier for JJ. Tangling his fingers in golden-streaked curls, sliding his hands on sun-warmed skin, kissing Kiara anywhere, everywhere he wanted. Maybe he held on tighter than he should, with nights lurking just beneath the horizon, fragmented with nightmares and wounds that never quite healed, with ghosts that were never quite silenced.  

But sometimes – sometimes, nights were like this. Moonlit curls splashed on a pillow, Kiara salted and still catching her breath underneath him, flushed with a lip-bitten grin. 

He leans down for a kiss, slow and lazy. And it tumbles out of his mouth before he can fully assess, murmured against her lips. 

“We should go out for a bit.” 

“Right now?” She chuckles softly, runs her fingers through his hair. Says “Where?” but she’s looking at him like she’s already there anyway.

He rolls to his side, slides a hand to her waist as he draws her in. “Sure, why not? The night’s still young.” 

She laughs, but there’s a distant flash in her eyes – because they are too, but it hadn’t felt like that in a while. Still shadowed by blood-tainted treasure, cloudy with restless nights. Overcast with everything that felt far too adult, far too heavy for this moment. 

But he refuses to let it weigh them down. “Let’s take out the boat. The best bitin’s at night anyway.”

JJ remembered that, always. Just hadn’t had the courage to actually go out at the midnight hour, to face what was simmering beneath those dark waves. Not since he was nine and Luke’s weathered hands were wrapped around his as they cast a line. 

Then again, he hadn’t realized he had the courage to do a lot of things. Things that had nothing to do with jumping off motorcycles or cliffs, and everything to do with Kiara Carrera all bare and bronze next to him, snagging his sweatshirt from the pile of blankets at the foot of their bed.  

“Fishing?” Her voice muffles as she tugs it over her head, and he watches, entranced by her hair spilling over the worn Kildare label on the back of his hoodie. “You wanna go fishing right now?”

Propping himself up, he winds an arm around her waist from behind. “No time like the present, carpe diem and all that shit.” He rests his face in the hollow of her neck. His sweatshirt will smell like beaches and flowers for days now. “You in?” 

When she nods and turns to ghost her lips over his, when she says “in,” he wonders if she knows just how all in he really is.

*

It’s something akin to summer at sixteen, Kie’s hand in his as she boards the ship, backpack and cooler in tow. 

It’s not all cloudless and shimmery sun, but he doesn’t miss it, gazing at Kiara now under the crescent moon half-hidden in fog, the starlit canopy dotting her cheeks. Her hand still in his but altogether different. 

Maybe it’s how she pulls him in when she climbs aboard. How she drops a kiss to his lips. How she looks at him over her shoulder, beckoning him to join her at the bow. 

She casts her line, curls lifting in the ocean breeze. “What gave you the idea for night fishing?” 

“Just heard about it,” he says automatically. Clears his throat, tries again. “From my dad.” 

She hums, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her eyes are still fixed ahead, but she leans in a little closer, his beachy sweatshirt warm against his exposed arm. Luke’s not her favorite person, he knows. But she never tried to take those moments away from him, the few he’d told her about. And it made him feel like maybe he wasn’t stupid for holding on to them. 

There were so many things Luke wasn’t right about, that JJ’s tried really hard to undo. But then there were some things, Cut things, like now, their haul bigger than ever, that Luke knew better than anybody. He smiles to himself. 

When they’re done packing up the fish, Kiara crinkles her nose, waves him towards the cabin. They barely fit side by side at the tiny sink, soapy arms up to their elbows, bumping shoulders and matching grins, her eyes finding him from under her lashes. It would’ve made more sense to go one after the other. 

But this doesn’t really make any sense either, Kiara sprawled out on the deck with him, on his own boat, leg slung over his as she takes a pull from her PBR. 

She plays Marley on her phone, lights a vanilla candle she’d left there the other day. She crunches down on carrot sticks, and he beats his record on how many pieces of popcorn he can catch in his mouth in a row. And she whoops and laughs and glows. 

It’s quiet for a time, tangled on a blanket as they blink at the star-fallen sky. Until she finally whispers, “I don’t think we’ve ever really done anything alone before.” 

JJ laughs lightly, brushing flyaways from her face as he looks down at her. “Well, Jesus, I sure hope we were alone earlier when we were–”

She elbows him in the ribs, fighting a smile. “That doesn’t count.” 

“Why not?” he breathes out through a chuckle. “It’s my favorite kind of alone time.”

She narrows her eyes. “I meant, we haven’t really been alone like this.” Shrugging, she runs fingertips along his cheek. “Y’know, like none of the other Pogues around. And not just to, like, go on a beer run or finish a joint or something.” 

“Hm,” he mumbles to her hair, considering. “Just me and you. Alone for a whole evening.”

“Yeah,” she confirms. Angles her face to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Did we just go on a date?” 

He clicks his tongue, eyes scanning the boat. “Food. Candle. Music. Macking,” he lists off on his fingers. “‘Fraid so.” 

She rolls her eyes at the last one, but she buries further into his chest, does little to beat the allegation when she slides a hand under his shirt. “Have you ever been on one?”

He snorts. “Kiara.”

“Okay, well,” she concedes with a laugh. “I haven’t either.” 

It’s not how he’d pictured it, whatever a damn date is supposed to look like, not that he’d ever even pictured one at all. Really, he hadn’t pictured any of this, not in any sort of reality. 

But he’s not sixteen anymore, dreamy when she clasped her hand in his with a shy smile, wondering what it all means. And maybe they carry a lot more with them now, but he wouldn’t trade this reality for anything, seeing all of Kiara, letting her see him. In the day, night, or otherwise.

“It’s kinda nice, though, yeah?” he whispers, the tide lulling them closer. “Just us.” 

“Yeah,” she whispers back, bright-eyed in the dark of night. “Kinda is.” 

[waiting4inspiration]

Moonlight (Geralt x werewolf!reader)

Summary: You seek the help of a Witcher to help you with your first full moon after being bitten by a werewolf, not expecting a lot of things to happen. Especially not that you would fall for him.

Warnings: I wrote this when I was sick so apologizes if it sucks, werewolf!reader, slight angst, fluff, strong language

Word Count: 2,693

7k Mythical Creatures Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist

You might not have turned for the first time yet, but you know that having a Witcher in town in the week of the full moon is not good for you. He could hunt you down that night and kill you all because you have no control over your monster-like side. 

On the other hand, something tells you that he might be able to help you. If you appeal to him, convince him that you truly don’t want to hurt anyone, perhaps he can give you some advice, and perhaps he can make sure you don’t actually hurt anyone. 

The latter thought seems to appeal to you more. So, you attempt to seek him out. 

Knowing that he prefers to keep to himself, that he camps outside of town instead of renting a room at the inn, you venture into the woods to find him. You’ve come to the woods many times, finding that your senses have started to grow stronger with the nearing full moon. It must be a werewolf thing. 

You come across a camp with nothing but a horse in sight. A horse, but no Witcher. And yet, you can sense someone is here. Turning around, either to walk away or to check your surroundings, your eyes meet a sword pointed right at your face and it makes you step back as you gasp in shock. “I’m not looking for a job. I’m just passing through,” he roughly says. 

A job. Your plea for help might have appealed to him more if you came here with coin to offer him. “I’m not here to offer you a job to kill a monster,” you softly say, holding your hands up in defeat. 

You catch his eyes flickering down to your wrist as your sleeve slightly falls. Before you can step farther away from him and pull your arm out of his grasp, knowing fully well what he’s seen, his sword is now at his side and your wrist is being held firmly in his hand. 

He’s staring at the bite wound on your arm, the scar that you can’t get rid of and that you hide so that people don’t find out what happened to you or what you will turn into. But long sleeves were not enough to fool a Witcher. “This is a werewolf bite,” he grunt, glaring up at you as you pull your arm out of his hold. 

“I’m aware,” you snap, holding your arm to your chest as you narrow your eyes at him. “If you intend to tell me what this bite means, then I’ll spare you breath and tell you that I know,” you say when you see him going to speak again. His expression doesn’t change though. “Which is why I’m here.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” he quickly states, walking past you and heading to the small firepit his things are placed around. 

You turn around with him, staring at him with a small glare. He thought that’s the reason you’re here? To ask him to kill you. “I’m not asking that you kill me. I’m asking that you help me,” you state, walking forward to follow him into the heart of his small camp. 

He turns his head over his shoulder to look at you as he places his sword down. He does nothing but stare at you for a moment before he glances down at your arm again, gives a short ‘Hm’ and sits down on a fallen log. “You’re asking the wrong person to help you.”

“I thought I’d be asking the right person to help me seeing as how you’re experienced in what werewolves do,” you fight back, walking forward and rounding the long so that you can stand in front of him. He lifts his eyes up to you, staring at you through his lashes as he keeps the emotionless look on his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing. The werewolf that bit me was killed in a tavern fight a few weeks ago while he was in human form and he told me that he would help me,” you explain, folding your hand in front of you as you take a small step forward. 

He sits up straight, lifts his head up and rests his elbow on his knee. “This is your first full moon,” he states, rather than asks, and you give a small nod. Then, he stares at you again. 

There’s silence between you two for a moment and it makes you a bit anxious. What if this Witcher is plotting to kill you when you shift? What if you’ve just rung the bell for him by saying that you’re a werewolf now? “Are you going to help me or should I run as fast as I can and pray that you don’t follow me?” you snap at him as you fold your arms over your chest. 

A smirk grows on his face as he pushes himself to his feet and steps closer to you. “You’re afraid that you’re going to hurt someone,” he concludes. You eye him as he steps closer to you. 

“I didn’t ask for this to happen to me. I don’t want to pass this curse on to someone else,” you say, unfolding your arms and rolling your shoulders back. “Will you help me?” you ask, your voice soft as you stare up at him. 

He hums. And you don’t know if that’s a good sign or bad sign. He turns around to walk away from you and sits back on the fallen log. “We leave at dawn,” he bluntly states, taking you off guard and making you speechless. 

You walk closer to him. “Leave at dawn?”

“It will be easier if you’re as far from civilization as possible,” he mentions, his eyes flickering up to you as you sit down beside him. “You can’t hurt anyone if there’s no one around you to hurt,” he murmurs, but you catch his words clearly and nod your head as you bite your lower lip. 

Sighing, you glance down at your hands as you fold them together. “So, I guess this means that I’ll be living in isolation from now on then?” you question, turning your head to him and finding him staring at you. His eyes seem brighter up close than how they looked when you were a few feet away from him. 

“If you don’t want to pass this curse on to anyone else, then yes.” You nod at his words and tear your gaze back to your hands in front of you. “Sometimes, it’s for the best to be alone,” he adds, looking away from you to stare at the ground. 

“At least you have a horse,” you mention. Your words make him give a short chuckle that in turn makes you look back at him. “Name’s (Y/n), by the way.”

He looks back at you, barely turning his head but his eyes still landing on your face. “Geralt.” His reply is short and almost grunt-like. 

You didn’t think that it would be easy to convince him to help you, but you’re glad that you’re not going to be doing this alone. 

The day of the full moon, you’ve never felt more nervous in your entire life. Geralt and you have grown a bit closer on your venture to this place, and he started to open up more to you. His conversations are now more than one sentence, they aren’t grunts anymore, and he’s more responsive. 

Geralt walks up behind you as you watch the sun slowly sink. He’s felt your anxiety the whole day, he knows you’re dreading this. And he knows that no matter how many times he tells you what you want to know, it doesn’t help you. 

“I won’t remember anything that happens while in wolf form?” you question, wrapping your arms around your body when you realize that the sun has a little ways to go before it’s fully set. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder, Geralt turns you around to pull your attention away from the sunset. “Not a single thing.” You drop your head as he speaks and let out a long sigh. “And I’ll be here to make sure you stay in the area-”

“What if I hurt you? Or kill you?” you cut him off, pushing yourself away from him and walking in the cave you two were standing in front of. Geralt told you that you need a covered place to turn because that will be the place your wolf will return to at the end of the night. 

He walks after you. “That won’t happen, I promise,” he says, making you stop pacing and drop your head between your shoulders. “This might be the first time I’m helping a werewolf through the night instead of trying to kill them-” You harshly turn around to stare at him with wide eyes. “-but I trust you. Do you trust me?”

Do you? You’ve only known him for a few days. He’s a Witcher, a monster hunter. And you’re a werewolf, a monster. You shouldn’t trust him really. All you have to go on is his word that he won’t kill you through the night. 

He told you that after tonight, you’ll be fine by yourself. That you’ll have a sense of what to do, what will happen, and that your wolf form will have a territory to roam during the night. But what if that’s not enough? 

You swallow hard and let your arms fall to your side. “I-” You think about the past few days, how he never looked at you in disgust, distrust, or evilly like he was plotting your death. If anything, he made you feel like a normal human. “I trust you,” you whisper. 

Looking over his shoulder, you see the sky growing dark and a dim light being cast down from the full moon. It makes a breath catch in your throat and you step back farther into the cave. “You’re sure about all this?” you question, gesturing around the cave and question the fact he said of the cave being like a beacon to your wolf form at the end of the night. 

He chuckles and steps closer to you. “I’m sure about this,” he whispers, stands in front of you and holds your gaze. “You will be fine. I promise,” he says, stepping even closer to you and places a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“I’ll see you at sunrise?” you ask, your hand subconsciously resting on his chest as his thumping heart pulls your closer. 

He hums. 

“I’m counting on your word then, Witcher. But in case I don’t,” you whisper, grabbing his collar and pulling him down to kiss him. He places a hand on your cheek, kisses you back and stops you from pulling away too soon. 

You don’t know if your heart is racing because of the kiss, or because you know that soon, you won’t remember any of this and you’ll probably be attacking him because of the bloodlust he told you about. But that doesn’t stop you from indulging in the way his lips move with yours. Or how he pulls your body closer to his as your hands run over his shoulders. 

Your body jolts, breaking the kiss and a pained whimper to leave your lips. Staring up at Geralt with fearful eyes, you push him away and walk back as far as the cave goes. “Go. Please,” you beg, lowering yourself to your knees as you feel your heart beating in your ears and feel as if your blood is going to set on fire. 

You’ve told him that you don’t want him to see you turning. I don’t want anyone to see you turn into a monster. You don’t even know if you have the strength to hear yourself screaming in the pain he says comes with the shifting. 

He keeps his eyes on you as he walks backwards to the entrance of the cave. He doesn’t think that - after kissing you and spending the past few days with you - he’ll be able to see you in pain. Turning and closing his eyes when you groan in pain before a scream echoes around the cave, he quickens his steps and pulls out a Witcher potion. If he wants to keep you in this territory, he needs all of his strength. 

As he sits a little ways away from the cave, he tries to mediate to block out the sounds of your bones breaking and shifting as you turn into your wolf form. That always happens the first turning. Bones have to break and change. The next time, it will be easier because those bones would have already been changed. But the more he thinks about blocking out those sounds, the more they ring in his mind. 

Until they stop. 

A low growl sounds in the cave, giving him the signal to drink the Witcher potion and stand to his feet. 

He turns around, throws the vial to the side and sees a humanoid-like wolf emerging from the cave. A lot of things could happen. You could remember who he is and not attack him. Or your bloodlust to take over and you could attack him. Or you could realize that he’s a Witcher and decide not to attack him and run away. 

When you growl and snap at him, he knows that it’s the middle option. It’s going to be a difficult night fighting you and not killing you. 

You realize you’ve been staring at the cave wall after seeing your shadow being cast by the rising sun. The night’s over. Your first full moon is done. And you don’t feel the slightest relieved about it. All because you don’t remember a thing about what happened. 

Seeing Geralt’s shadow appearing on the wall, you slowly push yourself off of lying on the stone ground and pull your knees to your chest. Your clothing ripped while you turned, the remains in the corner of the cave remind you of that. 

When he reaches behind you, he wraps a blanket around you but you refuse to look at him. “Thank you,” you mutter, pulling the blanket around your tighter as he helps you stand. 

“You’re not going to look at me?” he questions, holding your hand in his tightly to stop you from turning away from him even more. 

You’re scared to look at him. You’re scared to see what you’ve done to him, what scars you might have left even though you should be relieved in the fact that he’s alive. 

Sighing, you slowly turn your head to look at him. And the only wound he has is a scratch across his cheek. But it seems to already be healing and doesn’t look that bad. “You’re okay,” you breathe in relief, your body relaxing as you turn to face him fully. “Did I give you a hard time last night?”

He shrugs his shoulders and steps forward. “It wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle. Like I told you it would be.”

You chuckle at his word and glance down at the wolf pendant on his chest. You can hear his heart slowly beating, but it doesn’t bother you that much anymore. It’s more like a hum now. “So, I guess this is where you leave me then?” you ask, remembering what it was that brought you to him; asking him for help for your first turning. 

He’s done that now. He doesn’t have a reason to stay anymore. Right?

“What if I don’t?” he asks back, surprising you and making your eyes to snap back up to him. “I mean, you are a handful on a full moon.”

You laugh, smile at the thought that he’ll stick around with you for however long, and step closer to him. “None of that’s my fault,” you whisper, resting a hand on his chest as you stand on your toes to lean closer to his face. 

All he does is hum, cup your cheek and lean forward to press a kiss to your lips. 

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