#yet he understands something deep down that the careful reader can’t ignore

[daisyachain]

AnF is a story about many things. One of the things is silence. The sparse use of internal monologue at critical moments leaves the reader aching for some kind of speech from the characters. Touma’s main struggle is against the externally-imposed silence he must live in. Masumi wants to be silent and can’t decide whether it’s cowardice or actual desire. Mami speaks loudly and speaks all the time, but she’s so thoroughly stonewalled that she may as well be silent. Futaba speaks quietly, she triggers the series by choosing to exit silence and start communicating.

And Taichi lives in a more universal, suffocating silence of the self. He doesn’t just hold back in talking—sticking to pleasantries, avoiding topics, letting himself hide in implications or small talk—he can’t even communicate with himself. He doesn’t have the vocabulary to understand what it is he thinks. He can’t connect his feelings with words. His internal monologue trails off constantly as he comes close to making A Connection and then spooks.

So Ao no Flag is partly about how hard it is to not be able to speak. The characters’ minor problems are magnified by never being able to acknowledge them or talk about them, they’re constricted, cut off, isolated by the lack of words they find inside themselves OR the lack of willing ears outside. One of the things AnF sets out to do is to have people communicate as reasonably and rationally as possible, and the way it manages to make a good story out of this is that there are just things people can’t say. Under any circumstances. It doesn’t matter that Mami or Taichi or Touma is trying to talk things out before anyone gets hurt, because the things that need to be said are inaudible. They can’t be said. Even if they are spoken out loud, the concepts that they’re trying to convey don’t exist in the lives of people around them. Taichi lives in utter silence for ten chapters trying to come up with a response to a statement that he doesn’t have the words to process.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Defending His Lady

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: Both Feyd and your son take issue with the people of Giedi Prime not accepting you as their Lady. Part of the His series

Notes/Warnings: Based on a request. It's a little bit different. Typos, probably.

Words: 1250

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Years ago, when you imagined your future, it wasn’t this. It wasn’t on this planet. It wasn’t with the husband and child you have. It wasn’t with the title you obtained from your marriage. You imagined light glowing through an open home, frilly gowns, a stuffy Lord, and a daughter who would be treated like a princess. It wasn’t necessarily what you wanted for your future, but it was what was likeliest to be. You’d be a foreign Lady on a new planet, yet respected just as much as their home-grown Lord.

You learned rather quickly that that’s not always how it works. And while you wouldn’t trade the life you have—not your husband, not your son—for anything the universe could offer, you can’t deny the difficulties that come with being the wife and mother of the Harkonnen line of Giedi Prime. 

The people wanted Feyd to marry one of their own, certainly not the concubine their na-Baron once took. They wanted purity. To them, you are tainted blood, and despite your status on this planet, many cannot resist treating you like a parasite. In the five years that have passed, you’ve taken the poor treatment and whispered words with as much grace as you can, knowing Feyd is always there to end the lives of those who step out of bounds, but it’s harder to ignore now that Fionn is no longer a baby.

Your son is growing. His ears catch more than you’d like. He notices how his father reacts to the harsh words directed at you and how he never sees the people who speak them ever again. He’s gathering the pieces that his mother is often disrespected, and that is the last thing you want.

—

“He sees it,” you tell your husband as you slip into your nightgown.

“He doesn’t see it,” Feyd says, pulling back the top layer of covers on the bed and settling under the sheets. When he reaches out his hand, you snuggle into his embrace. His arms are snug around you. His lips press a kiss to your hairline. “You worry too much.”

You hold in your huff of frustration. “I do not. He asked me as I put him to bed if bad people are hurting me and if that’s why Daddy keeps making them disappear.” Feyd pulls back to look down at you, his brow furrowed. You nod. “He sees it.”

Feyd exhales heavily through his nose. As a father, he’s been diligent, so very careful with how he leads his son; a surprisingly delicate guidance—something he didn’t have growing up. What started from Feyd’s fear of your son being too much like him died as the boy showed only love, but Feyd has continued his intricate training. He has trained so that even at the age of four, Fionn is vigilant, particular with his words, and practical in his choices. He trains so that outside factors are not as influential. He trains so the boy can think for himself. And it shouldn’t be a shock that he notices what happens in his own home. 

“It’s time he understands then,” Feyd says.

Your eyes go wide and you let out a light gasp. “Feyd, he’s four.”

“There’s no point in hiding what happens to them if he’s already curious. He’s as stubborn as you are,” he tells you. “And he’s old enough.”

—

“Mommy, where are we going?” Fionn asks, his little hand tugging on yours to get your attention. 

You take a deep breath, sucking in the dank air that leads to prisoner cells. You’re not sure how this is going to go, but you agreed and you need to let it play out. “Daddy wants to show you something.”

Fionn’s head turns to Feyd. “Is it a bad man, Daddy?”

Feyd pauses halfway down the hall and crouches in front of his son. You release Fionn’s hand so he can fully face his father. 

“Yes,” he says. “It’s a bad man.”

“He hurt Mommy?”

“Some of our guards heard him talking about your mother. He said rude things, called her names. He wished for harm to come to her.”

Fionn makes a soft noise of surprise. Name-calling—he considers that one of the worst of crimes, knowing what it got him when he insulted the little Lady of House Kenric. 

“But why?” he asks. 

“It doesn’t matter why,” Feyd says. “What matters is that we protect the ones we love, yes?”

“Yes,” Fionn agrees with a sharp nod.

Feyd looks up at you, silently commanding that you stay here. The last time you entered a cell to face the one who insulted you, more abuse was hurled at you until it tapped into a well of internal shame. It took you three days to shake that off, all the while your husband begging for you to return to your natural state of uncaring. 

You’ve always cared though, to some degree. It doesn’t matter that they like you so much as it matters that you’re not a stain on Feyd’s reputation. After all, he’s the Baron now, and one day, his son will be. If the people of Giedi Prime cannot forget where you come from, you worry they will never forgive Feyd, and worse, that they will never accept Fionn as their ruler. 

Feyd takes your boy’s hand once again and leads him the rest of the way. They stop at the correct cell and when a guard turns a key, they head inside. 

Inching your way down the hall, you halt just outside of it. Your finger goes to your lips to ensure the guard does not give you away, and with your back to the stone wall, you hear Fionn.

“He did it?”

The man is silent, likely knocked unconscious from Feyd’s earlier visit. You suppose he’ll be awake soon enough. 

“Yes,” Feyd tells him, his voice dropping an octave, “He did.”

“Did he apologize? He should apologize to Mommy.”

Feyd releases a sigh. His son is much more diplomatic than himself. But your husband can’t fairly be bothered. That’s the point of his parenting: to raise a better Baron than both he and his uncle have ever been. 

“Son, we do not let men like this apologize. We do not let them near your mother.”

“Oh.”

“So what do you think we do with them?”

Fionn hums, and it’s so much like his father that it’s as if he has stood on the sidelines of every death your husband has executed. The way Feyd hums as he plays with his victims. A fake hum of consideration, of contemplation. What should I do with them? How should they leave this world? Questions he pretends to ask as if he hasn’t planned their deaths out from the moment he was informed of the crime. And that’s the hum your son gives. He hums like a natural monster in the making. You wouldn’t be surprised if the boy is tapping his finger against his chin as he thinks. 

You feel an ounce of pride. There’s more to him than a kind heart, lovely as that heart is. He will be a fearsome Baron, but one that will show mercy when mercy is fit. However, here, now, mercy is not fit, and his father has made that clear.

“Would you like the first stab?” Feyd asks. “Top of thigh.”

The shing of metal scraping against Feyd’s sheath fills the space. A small blade. Good for Fionn’s hand.

“Which thigh, Daddy?”

Feyd chuckles. “You choose.”

[ruewrote]

𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: worries of future of relationship, no use of y/n GENRE: angst to fluff SONG INSPIRATION: based off of tightrope by michelle williams WORD COUNT: 1.5k REQUESTED: yes

navigation | ask | evan buckley masterlist

you always knew loving buck wasn’t going to be simple. he was magnetic in a way that pulled you in, but with that same intensity meant there was always something just outside of your reach. a sense of unpredictability. 

from the moment you met him, there was a charge that made everything with him feel alive. the late night conversations, the lazy mornings, the spontaneous laughter. it was all beautiful, but it was never easy. not with his job, not with the constant risks he took every single day.

and yet, here you were.

tonight, that all too familiar feeling crept back in, that gnawing unease you’d been trying to push down. buck wasn’t home yet. you sat on the couch, staring at the clock as it ticked away the minutes, trying to ignore the worst case scenarios playing on repeat in your mind. it was past midnight, and your phone was quiet. too quiet.

this wasn’t the first time you’d sat in the dark, wondering if he was okay, wondering if tonight would be the night he didn’t come home. that was the reality of loving someone like buck. someone who ran toward the danger, who put himself in harm’s way for others. you admired that about him, the way he cared so deeply, but sometimes it left you hopeless.

a sigh escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair, the tension building in your chest. you hated this feeling, hated waiting like this. most of the time, you could manage it, push it to the back of your mind. but tonight? tonight felt different. maybe because of how late it was or the heavy silence in the apartment, but something inside you twisted painfully as the seconds dragged on.

just as you were about to grab your phone and text him again, the sound of keys in the lock jolted you out of your thoughts. the door opened slowly and buck stepped inside, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. relief flooded through you at the sight of him, he was okay. he was safe. but the knot in your chest didn’t unravel right away.

“hey,” he said softly, closing the door behind him and tossing his keys on the entryway table. he looked worn out, his face smudged with soot, his hair a mess. “i’m sorry i’m late.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to keep your voice steady. “you didn’t text,” you said, sharper than you meant to. it wasn’t anger, more like the fear spilling out before you could control it.

buck’s brow furrowed as he walked toward you. “i know. i’m sorry. we had a crazy call, and i didn’t have a chance to check my phone. i should’ve texted as soon as i could. i didn’t mean to make you worry.”

the apology should have been enough, but the words didn’t soothe the ache you’d been carrying. you stood up from the couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at him. “i know you can’t always text me, buck. i get that. but…you don’t understand what it’s like sitting here, not knowing if something’s happened to you. not knowing if you’re okay.”

his expression softened, and he reached for your hand, but you pulled away, stepping back. the space between you suddenly felt wider, like there was something unspoken lingering there, something neither of you had addressed yet.

“i can’t keep doing this,” you whispered, your voice wavering despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “every time you walk out that door, i wonder if it’s going to be the last time and tonight… tonight i couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened.”

buck’s face fell, and he looked down at the floor, guilt flashing in his eyes. “i’m sorry,” he repeated, quieter this time. he took a deep breath, his voice thick with regret. “i didn’t mean to scare you. i didn’t–”

“it’s not just tonight,” you cut in, shaking your head. the frustration in your chest bubbled up before you could stop it. “it’s every night. every time you go on a call. i’m terrified, buck. terrified that one day you won’t come home. and i don’t know how much longer i can handle it.”

there. you’d said it. the words hung heavy in the air between you, and the silence that followed felt deafening.

buck looked up at you then, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite read. guilt? pain? he took a step closer, his hands reaching out for you again, but this time, you didn’t pull away. his fingers wrapped around yours, warm and familiar, grounding you in the moment.

“i know,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “i know it’s hard. i know i don’t always make it easy for you.” he paused, searching for the right words. “but i love what i do and i love you. i don’t know how to make you feel better about this, about any of it, but i promise you, i’m always going to do everything i can to come back to you.”

you blinked back the tears threatening to spill over, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. “but what if one day you can’t?” you asked, your voice cracking. “what if one day something happens and you don’t come back?”

his grip on your hand tightened, and he pulled you closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “i can’t promise you that nothing will ever happen,” he said softly, his thumb brushing across your skin in a gentle, comforting motion. “i wish i could, but you know i can’t. but what i can promise is that i’ll always fight to come back. no matter what.”

you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and buck wiped it away with his thumb, his eyes never leaving yours. there was so much emotion there, so much love, fear, and vulnerability and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“i don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“you won’t,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle. “i’m right here. i’m always going to be right here.”

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, and you let yourself sink into him. his warmth, his strength. it was all so familiar, so comforting, and for a moment, the fear melted away. you could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, and it grounded you, tethered you to this moment.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, but eventually, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. his hands slid down to rest on your waist, his fingers tracing small, absentminded circles on your skin.

“i hate that i’m so scared all the time,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “but i love you, buck. so much. and that’s why it’s so hard.”

he nodded, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “i know,” he said quietly. “and i’m sorry i’ve made it harder. i don’t always think about what it’s like for you, waiting here, wondering. but i swear, i’ll try to be better. i’ll do whatever i can to make this easier for you.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. it was a promise, one you knew buck would keep. he was reckless at times, but he was also loyal to a fault. if he said he’d try, you believed him.

“i just need you to talk to me,” you said softly. “let me in when you’re scared or when something’s bothering you. don’t just keep it to yourself.”

buck smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “deal. but only if you promise me the same thing.”

you let out a soft laugh, your chest feeling a little lighter now. “okay. deal.”

he leaned down and kissed you then, slow and sweet, like he was savoring the moment. when he pulled back, there was a quiet intensity in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat.

“i love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “and i’m not going anywhere. you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

you smiled, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you. “i like it,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i love you, too.”

later that night, you lay in bed with buck beside you, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. the soft rise and fall of his chest was soothing, a quiet reminder that he was here, safe and sound. you pressed yourself closer to him, letting the warmth of his body chase away the lingering fear that had settled in your bones earlier.

buck shifted beside you, his fingers brushing against your arm as he spoke, his voice low and sleepy. “i know it’s hard,” he murmured. “but we’ll figure it out. together.”

you nodded, your heart full as you closed your eyes. “yeah,” you whispered. “together.”

and for now, that was enough.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[multiversediaries]

god of mischief indeed

loki laufeyson x reader

summary: you would’ve never thought this was what loki said about you when you weren’t around.

warnings: very small angst, wholesome, fluff

part count: 2/2

an: omg so sorry for the super late upload!!! hope you all enjoy!!

part one

it had been only a few days ever since you overheard loki speak with thor about you. you had moved into your new room and you were comfortable. but even then, you wouldn’t and couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t miss him to death.

you sat up on your bed, unable to sleep yet again tonight. you found yourself reminiscing of all those things he did that you mistook for habits. your hand ran towards the empty pillow besides yours. you missed him like crazy, but those words of his wouldn’t leave your mind. you still couldn’t believe how he proudly admitted to playing with your feelings, and how cold he seemed. you have been distant ever since. completely ignoring his existence. you wanted nothing to do with him, and everyone could tell.

you decided something to drink could help. you stood up from your bed and left your room to find yourself something to help you relax. you walked into the kitchen and began looking for any sort of tea that could help you sleep at least a few hours tonight. you sighed in pure exhaustion as you continued to look in the dark. after a few minutes of endless searching, the lights of the kitchen suddenly switched on. you almost jumped, startled.

you turned around, ready to joke with whoever turned the light on. yet all you did was frown at the sight of loki. of the man who had just broken your heart into pieces only a few days back. you took in his appearance, his messy long hair, dressed in casual clothing, it was such a nice sight. a sight you used to adore but now only caused you pain. you sighed and turned around yet again, continuing to find yourself something soothing to drink.

loki let out a sigh behind you, walking closer. he stood by the end of the counter, as he watched your every move, confused as to why you were suddenly ignoring him.

“love?” loki called out, and goosebumps covered your skin. you hated the effect he easily had on you. you ignored his call entirely. “darling, what’s going on?” he asked, shamelessly. you almost chuckled, whilst you started to heat up water in a pot. loki sighed deeper, not understanding why you seemed so distant.

“y/n.” he said sternly, but ignored yet again. he walked closer to you, now grabbing your arm, to gain your attention. “y/n—“

“don’t touch me.” you spat at him, removing his hands off you, in both anger and sadness. he stared at you in disbelief.

“have i done something? why do you act this way towards me, love?” he asked, and you almost wanted to hit him. did he really not know? you shook your head, amazed by him.

“why do you care so much for someone you’re only having fun with, huh?” you asked, crossing your arms infront of your chest. you were tired of his lies. loki tilted his head, confused, furrowing his eyebrows.

“love, what are you—”

“anyone must be insane to believe you’d settle with me of all people.” you continued, until he seemed to have realized what you were talking about.

“you heard.”

“i heard.” you replied, drily. loki sighed deeply, before looking back into your pained eyes. you turned around yet again, to continue what you were doing.

“dear—“

“stop calling me that. stop talking to me as if i’m stupid.” you interrupted him. loki took a deep breath, trying to find the words to possibly calm you down.

“y/n.” he said, dropping all the nicknames all together. “you have it all wrong. believe me, i—”

“you what, loki? you love me? oh, please, you can’t think i’d actually believe that.” you laughed, turning to look at him, his expression further saddening but you couldn’t care less.

“y/n. listen to me, won’t you?” loki attempted to say, his hands trying to find their place in your waist, yet you pulled away from him again. “come back to our room. let’s talk this out.” he tried convincing you.

“i mean absolutely nothing to you, laufeyson. nothing.” you painfully admitted. “i am simply someone you can screw around with whenever you’re bored. i’m nothing more or nothing less to you.” you continued, loki shook his head, disagreeing with you.

“so i won’t burden you any longer— hell, you probably only came to look for me because you wanted someone to sleep with, didn’t you?” you finished, turning around again to continue what you came for. loki stood behind you, as if frozen in place, not knowing what to do or what to say. his hand started to reach out again, needing to feel you, to hug you and beg you to come back to him. but his pride got the best of him. he pulled his hands back and began walking away from you.

“very well.” was the last thing he said, before he walked back into his room, leaving you all alone in the kitchen.

“oh, my god.” you whispered, leaning against the counter, now trying to catch your breath. it took everything in you to not forgive him and hug him. you didn’t even realize your hands were shaking until you tried pouring the hot water into a pot, and failed. maybe it was best you didn’t drink anything that night.

=============

“you clean up nicely.” tony remarked, as you walked into the party. you let out a small giggle, shaking your head. the avengers had planned a party, to celebrate all their recent victories. you were excited for it. it had been so long since you last spoke to loki. it was painful to say the least.

it now seemed as if he didn’t care about you anymore. you’d catch him staring at you here and there, but his eyes were not full of love like before. you could only see anger and even confusion at times.

but loki. he was suffering as he watched you from a far, being so happy without him. god, it was eating him alive. he felt insane. he couldn’t understand why you seemed to be doing so well without him. how could you? when he’s helpless without you? but he would never admit his feelings for you. he wouldn’t dare speak to you.

but even then, loki couldn’t prevent his eyes from widening at the sight of you. the sight of his woman, looking as gorgeous as ever. your beauty was intense. his jaw clenched, as he leaned against the bar, watching your every move. and you knew of this. you could feel his eyes as if they were his beloved daggers. yet your thoughts were interrupted by pietro, laying his hand on your lower waist.

loki let out a breathless, bitter chuckle. who does this boy think he is? loki grabbed his cup of whiskey and drank the entirely of it, soon ordering yet another glass, his eyes still glued to you.

“you look beautiful.” pietro whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t help but blush. it has been so long since you were last complimented on your appearance. it wasn’t even close to how loki seemed to worship you back then, but those were probably lies, right?

“are you alone tonight, darling?” pietro asked yet again. you nodded gently, looking into his eyes. he smiled widely and shook his head, leaning once again to whisper in your ear.

“not anymore.”

you giggled, softly hitting his arm. he chuckled at your loveliness and looked at the others, trying to catch up on their conversation. you grinned softly, completely oblivious to the jealous loki watching you from afar.

“lovely couple.” thor broke loki’s silence, followed by a mocking chuckle, sitting next to him at the bar. “don’t you think?” he asked, whilst ordering his own glass.

loki stayed completely quiet, not daring to look away.

“he seems to compliment her quite well...” thor continued, looking at his brother besides him. he watched as loki’s expression changed all together.

“brother—“

“it wouldn’t surprise me if pietro’s currently pursuing her. it’s slightly obvious.” thor interrupted loki, who seemed to be getting more uncomfortable by the minute.

“i mean, she is a gorgeous woman—”

“stop it, will you?” loki finally spoke, his hands massaging his temples in frustration. thor chuckled softly, taking a small sip of his glass, amused by his brother’s stubbornness.

“what is it?” thor said after some minutes of silence, a bit worried for his brother. loki had never acted this way. loki let out a big sigh, meeting thor’s eyes for the first time.

“i simply—“

“you’re in love with her.” thor said, shrugging his shoulders, as if it was obvious. loki widen his eyes, almost shocked. was it truly that obvious? were his feelings that apparent? can’t be… because if they were, why didn’t you notice? if they were, why were you here with pietro tonight? loki looked back at you, his eyes pained as he watched you enjoying yourself at the presence of another person that wasn’t him.

“i don’t know what it is you’re talking about.”

“won’t you stop being dishonest with yourself?” thor said, somewhat annoyed by loki’s obliviousness. loki looked at thor once again, his eyes full of confusion and sadness.

“i can tell, brother. how smitten you are with her. we all can.” thor declared, finishing his drink. he let out an exhausted sigh before continuing. “you’re the only one who still hasn’t realized it.”

“i—” loki started, his eyes going back to your figure, dancing with pietro in the dance floor. his heart sinking whenever you’d smile, his hands sweating in nervousness. “i don’t know what to do.” loki confessed, dropping his head in defeat. thor listened closely.

“I don’t know how to alleviate— i just— don’t know how to fix this.” loki shook his head, as he remembered the things he said, and how hurt you were because of him. “i haven’t got a clue on what to do to get her back.”

“mhm…” thor hummed, as if thinking before speaking up soon after. “have you ever heard of apologizing?” thor joked, earning a deadly look from the god. thor raised his arms in defense, chuckling. “i’m just saying, brother. an apology can do so much… and your confession.” thor said, loki looked at his brother, nodding his head in agreement. thor offered him a small smile, before tapping his shoulder.

“you must hurry, before you genuinely lose her.” thor finished, before walking away, leaving loki all alone. loki let out a breath, he didn’t know he was holding and nodded his head. he needed to speak to you. he needed to get you back.

he kept watching you. waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you away. yet pietro was by your side all night. it was so angering and bothersome to loki. his moment soon came though, when you excused yourself. you needed some fresh air, your social battery was already running out.

you offered smiles as you walked through the party, there were more people than you expected. you let out a thankful sigh as soon as you officially walked out of the party, towards the foyer. the air was cold. causing you to softly hug yourself, seeking warmth. you closed your eyes, finally feeling peace and enjoying the quiet. you didn’t even feel the presence of loki, before he softly spoke up.

“hiding from your date?” loki gently said, breaking the silence. you almost jumped by the sudden sound of his voice. you offered him a small smile, before going back to looking upfront, shaking your head.

“just needed some fresh air.” you simply replied, licking your dry lips. loki nodded, still keeping his place close behind you. he could smell your sweet perfume, you were wearing his favorite.

“why are you with him tonight?” loki finally asked, somewhat terrified of your answer. you looked back him, confused.

“why do you care?” you asked.

“answer me, y/n.” loki pleaded. you furrowed your eyebrows, fully turning around and facing him. you tilted your head in confusion.

“because he seems to care for me, and—”

“and i don’t?”

“w—what?” you asked, baffled by his words. “no, loki. you don’t.” you confirmed, looking deeply into his eyes. loki scoffed a grin, bewildered by your stupid response. how could you ever think like that? when he loved you so?

“you must have lost your mind.” loki mumbled, shaking his head. that stupid grin of his still plastered on his face. you bit your lip, angrily. “you know i do, y/n.”

“do i?” you asked, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. “do i really? you never tell me anything, how am i supposed to be so sure of that?”

“y/n—” loki started, now walking closer to you, his hands reaching out to lay on their place on your soft cheeks, yet you pulled back from him. his eyes looked at you, shocked and hurt. “please. let me show you.” he almost begged. you sniffled, trying to decide on whether letting him touch you. after a while, you nodded.

loki placed his hands on your cheeks, his thumb softly caressing your shiny skin as he admired you. it had been so long since he had actually looked at you. so long since he had the privilege to touch you and even breathe the same air as you. he locked eyes with you once again and spoke up.

“of course i care for you. there’s absolutely no one else in this or in any universe that i care for and that matters to me more than you.” loki confessed, and you froze in place. you couldn’t believe this was happening. you couldn’t believe the words that were leaving his mouth.

“but then, why— why would you—”

“i don’t know why i’d say something like that. i truthfully— please believe me when i say that i didn’t mean any of that.” loki interrupted you, his hand softly removing a piece of hair from your face. you sighed shakily as you listened to him.

“i just don’t understand…” you whispered. “if you really care, then why would you say something like that? why wouldn’t you want to be with me?” you asked, your voice breaking mid sentence. loki felt his heart breaking into a million pieces as he watched the tears leave your eyes.

“oh, love.” loki said softly, almost in a whisper as he tried drying your endless tears. “i— i’m terrified.” loki confessed, his hands dropping gently to his sides, and stepping back from you, giving you your space. you looked at him through your watery eyes.

“of what?”

“i’m in love with you.” loki bluntly confessed. and you froze in place. he was… what? loki bit his bottom lip, his hands starting to sweat. he even looked shocked himself by his sudden confession. you could even see his chest sinking, trying to find his breath.

“i want you— i’ve wanted you for so long. i can rarely breath whenever you’re not besides me. i feel at ease by simply hearing you breathe.” loki rumbled, his hands running through his hair anxiously.

“i just— i wasn’t sure of how you felt, hell, i wasn’t sure of how i felt.” loki continued.

“loki…” you started, taking a cautious step closer to him.

“no one has ever loved me or has ever treated me the way you have and.. i am simply horrified of losing… this, by my greed. i— want more. i—”

“i love you. i— i do. there’s not a day i haven’t not loved you. i— i love you so much that it can’t even begin to be described. so much that i could and would die from it.” loki continued and yet, you couldn’t move. you just listened to his words, letting him let it all out.

“however… i don’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you. i’m aware of that.” loki said softly, so sadly it brought tears to yours eyes yet again. “how could you ever feel anything asides from hate for someone like me?” loki chuckled, and you were at the verge of tears. it hurt so bad, seeing the man you love be so insecure and overall love starved, to the point where he actually believes he’s unlovable.

“loki— listen to me, will you?” you almost whispered, closing the space between the two of you. your hands ran to his cheeks, cupping his handsome face. his pained expression pulling at your heart strings.

“i’m being selfish, y/n, i acknowledge that. but i realized i can’t live without you. my world has no meaning if you’re not in it, but i can’t— you don’t deserve this.” loki almost sobbed in your hands, closing his eyes, trying his hardest to remain strong. you couldn’t breathe by watching the man you loved so much be so vulnerable, and all for you.

“i love you.” you gently started, your thumbs stroking his soft skin. you heard as loki took a shaky breath, his hands hovering over your body, as if scared to touch you. his eyes starting to water as he looked back into your gorgeous eyes.

“i’ve loved you ever since i first laid my eyes on you.” you continued, and watched as loki closed his eyes again, a small tear leaving his eyes.

“i’m sorry.” loki apologized, already in tears and you couldn’t help but hug your gentle giant.

“i know. it’s alright.” you consoled him, your hand stroking his back lovingly as he cried in your shoulder.

“but never say or do anything that stupid ever again.” you joked, earning a small grin from loki, who only nodded desperately.

“y/n.” loki spoke, after pulling away from your hug and now looking directly into your eyes. “are—are you sure? of this? of us?” he asked insecurely, and it made you frown deeper.

“loki—”

“do you understand all the danger there is to being by my side? i’m not a hero, y/n, i will never be and i just— i don’t want to ruin any perception you could have of me.” loki said, his voice full of anxiety. you placed your hand in his cheek yet again, and leaned in to finally kiss your man.

you heard his breathe hitch as you placed your soft lips on top of his. you kissed loki sweetly, intending to communicate all of your feelings for him in one simple kiss. soon enough, loki finally placed his hands on your waist, comfortable and confident enough to touch you. his tongue soon entered your mouth, now fully tasting you. the kiss lasted a few minutes, and you didn’t want it to end. you didn’t know how much you loved kissing loki, until you were deprived of it for so long. you soon pulled away, resting your head on his.

“i love and want you, loki. not a perception. i want you because you’re you.” you said gently, as to comfort him. he sighed softly, only listening to what you had to say.

“i don’t know what you’ve been through, that has caused you to think like this, but you deserve all the love in this world, and i’m honored to finally give it to you.” you continued, placing a sweet kiss to his cheek, earning a shy smile from the god. “please let me continue loving you, loki laufeyson.”

loki didn’t even have to answer. he just wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you into a loving hug. you giggled softly, returning the hug. you caressed his back lovingly, as loki finally realized you were his. his woman, the love of his life. he found himself smiling knowing that his insecurities didn’t win, and here he was, hugging the love of his life. loki soon pulled away, looking into your sweet eyes.

“pietro.”

“pietro…?” you repeated, confused.

“if he ever dares to lay his dirty hands on you again, i swear—” loki was interrupted by your laughter. he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face as he heard you laugh, but this time because of him.

“i’m serious, darling. watching him shamelessly flirt with you has been torture these part few weeks. i will not stand it any longer.” loki said, shaking his head. you giggled, nodding your head.

“you deserved it.” you joked, loki smirking at your comment.

“i did.” loki said, softly pecking your lips lovingly.

“yes, i did.”

—

taglist <3

@dragonmurray @lokidokieokie @luringfantasy @evolvingchaoswitch @kerst666 @crimson25 @hanndotcom @kittiowolf210 @yelkmelk @princessdragon23 @valkyre9125 @saltedcoffeescotch @assembelingavenger @oreojenni @bigbaddie45 @theliability @darknights04 @ruth-is-a-koala-bear @moony-2001 @chronicallybubbly @catradora333 @wiltedflowersundertowers @mayemperess @spiderlily-w1tch-blog @andurgonnabehappy @cultish-corner @richardsamboramylove55 @robynjasp @softestqueeen @creat0r-cat @maverickroyalromanoff

[bluetoes-andstuff]

A Hidden Desire

Chapter 3 - New Roots

Summary: It’s time for the trek back to the colony… but don’t worry, Caesar has a good hold on you.

Word Count: 5.5k

Ratings: T (Eventual NSFW)

Relationships: Caesar x Fem!Human Reader

Warnings: dirty thoughts, touching (not inappropriate… yet), flirty undertone

Previous Chapter

***If you are under 18 I would advise not reading, this is not an explicit chapter but this will be a story that explores nsfw themes later on. Best to just not go down the path to begin with. Be safe***

You feel the gentle sway of the horse beneath you, its steady rhythm almost successful in calming the emotional rollercoaster going on inside your head. The path back to wherever it was the apes were taking you is surrounded by dense forest. The path is well traversed, with crude, archaic decorations littering the trees that follow it. The sparse torch placements along the patch guide the way, the gentle crackling flames accompanying the sounds of nature, blending with the soft chit-chat of the apes around you.

The camaraderie among the apes is palpable. They move with an ease and familiarity that speaks of years of deep bonds and shared experiences. You catch snippets of their conversations, their sign language quick and fluid, and their expressions so emotive and almost human-like. Some of them notice you watching and give you curious but friendly looks. It was pretty easy to read their expressions, considering this is the first time you’ve ever been around an “oh-so terrifying” ape before. One young chimp approaches, signing something with an enthusiastic grin, soft pants and gentle hoots accompanying his signed words. You don’t understand him, really, despite your best efforts, but the warmth in his eyes and excitement in his expression is enough for you to know you like him pretty well. You smile back, waving your fingers shyly at him to return the greeting. Your body goes a bit stiff with your giddiness and restrained excitement at the friendliness extended towards you.

The large chimp that had rescued you rides with you, which is both comforting and a bit nerve-wracking. It’s a weird mix of feelings you’ve never had before.

His presence and warmth is reassuring, a solid anchor in this new and overwhelming environment. Yet, it’s hard to ignore the placement of his hands on your stomach. He had it splayed out at the center of your malnourished belly, his long fingers gently tapping or stroking along the fabric covering your skin. Every so often, his grip will adjust, or he will trade hands with the reins when the ride gets rough or changes terrain. His fingers or palm brushing against your hips, or squeezing your side, and you swore every now and then his fingers brush against the tops of your rib cage as if in search of something more.

He is an ape, so you know better than to read into the touches. He is not a perverted human man like you are familiar with… although you couldn’t exactly help the unease you feel. In your experience, these touches spoke of an intent, and more often than not, it does not end well for you.

But there again, despite that unease, the touches bring you a weird sense of comfort, like a reminder of his presence. Even though usually these touches bring on unwanted attention, this ape’s actions held an undertone of admiration and care. You were not sure why or how you knew, considering there was not much difference from your previous experiences… but it was there.

Over the period of your journey, you notice a consistent response whenever another ape gets too close. His grip travels in some way or another, to your side, your thigh, or his entire arm wraps across your abdomen to pull you closer. It’s borderline possessive. Yet another red flag…

What have you gotten yourself into? His hold is firm—almost too firm—and you can’t help but wonder what his deal is, because how can you not? Is he just being protective, are you reading this totally wrong? Or are you reading it totally right? It’s hard! You’ve got no prior experience with ape men to draw off of.

But then, as if sensing your unease, Caesar’s grip softens. His hand moves in slow, soothing circles against your side, slipping forward to do the same to your stomach. It’s not a sexy move—more like an affectionate “chill out” gesture. The warmth of his touch seeps through your clothes, radiating a kindness that immediately quells your doubts and you melt into him. How he was capable of transforming your mood so quickly you did not know, but he somehow did it.

You’re definitely going to get emotional whiplash from all this back and forth!

The rhythmic motion of the horse and the gentle sway of the forest around you start to lull you into a sleepy state. You can’t remember the last time you had a good night’s sleep, always on guard for your safety. Despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of your ape companion’s body against your back, his steady breathing, and the secure hold of his arm around your waist create a cozy cocoon you can’t resist. Slowly, you begin to drift off.

Before you succumb to sleep entirely, a young bonobo approaches. They sign something with an unwavering exuberance, their eyes bright with untamed curiosity as they stare at you expectantly. You crane your neck to look to the ape behind you for help, feeling a bit lost at what they were trying to say.

“She wants… your name,” he translates. His voice a gentle rumble you can feel reverberate through his chest.

You reply with your name to the female, offering a small smile. In turn she gestures to herself carefully with a soft sign to follow, face lit up with excitement. And then she signs something else, her gestures quick and enthusiastic, immediately reverting back to the hurried hyper-ness from before.

“She is… Tika. She says… you have a beautiful… name,” the ape translates again, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you blush.

Tika reaches out, her small hand brushing against yours quickly in a gesture of friendship. The simple act fills you with a sense of belonging, a spark of hope that maybe you can find a place here. You squeeze her hand gently, feeling a connection despite the language barrier. She gives you one last smile before steering her horse back to her group of friendly apes. You can’t help the giddiness that wells up in your heart; maybe you could make some real friends wherever you’re headed.

Then the hand wrapped softly around your waist travels to your side and gives a gentle squeeze. You didn’t think much of it until you could feel his soft breath brushing against the side of your neck when he leaned in close.

“Very beautiful,” he hums softly before leaning back and returning to his original position.

You feel your entire body go hot with the blush that courses through you. Did apes flirt? Because that sure as hell felt like flirting!

You get kind of stiff for a little while and you can almost swear you can feel that damn ape chuckling behind you. You had a feeling he knew exactly what he was doing…

It takes some time for your heart to stop racing and calm yourself down once more. Soon your body's fight for sleep wins over and you can feel that pull once more. You give in and lean back against his chest and you turn to hide your face into him, feeling his rough yet oddly soft fur press against your cheek. The welling of all the different emotions is enough to make you tear up… and you don’t want him to see you cry over things so profoundly silly.

His scent surrounds you, earthy and musky with a hint of something wild and untamed. It’s comforting, grounding you in the present moment with him. The steady rhythm of his breathing inflating the chest you rested against, the warmth of his body against your back, all combine to create a nice, warm, little cocoon. For the first time in a long while, you feel a semblance of comfort, a fragile sense of peace. The last thing you remember is the sound of his voice, low and soothing, as he communicates with the other apes either through words or other soft hoots and chirps apes are prone to. It lulls you into a fitful sleep.

***

Caesar’s mind is a mess. Your body pressed up against his in this way is a terrible distraction, and it takes most all of his willpower to keep his hands in a respectful place. All he wants to do is explore— feel the softness of your human skin. He wants to bury his muzzle in your neck, inhale and savor your undiluted scent. He knows these urges were unnatural, and he knows it will take time and a lot of convincing to not only get you on board, but the other apes as well. It’s something so taboo— almost shameful, and he spent so long tamping down this desire… but now here you are, pressed up against his body; enticing him in a way he’s never experienced before. He doesn’t think he’ll be successful resisting this desire much longer.

Though what’s odd is what accompanies this tension in his body—a mix of protectiveness, innocent curiosity, and a quickly developing attachment. Beyond that primal need, is tenderness and care. He doesn’t want to scare you or hurt you, he wants you to feel safe and be happy. And that right there is what fuels his restraint… for now.

In fact, he becomes so in tune with your body and your actions he can physically feel your tension and stiffness when the other apes approach. Not that he liked it much either when male apes would approach to sniff at you curiously.

So he makes sure his actions are read clearly by everyone involved. To you, a simple tighten around your waist or squeeze on your side is a promise of safety; a reassurance of his protection. But to the males, the action is possessive, and it’s only accentuated by the glower and silent snarl that would curl up his lips when they came too close. Any male in his group knew what that meant, and they would quickly back away, which not only gave him what he wanted— sole possession of you— but it also seemed to bring you a level of comfort. He could feel the relief that sweeps through your body. The way you practically slump back into him every time just brings him even more enjoyment.

When Tika approaches, Caesar doesn’t have his guard up. She was one of the only females in the scouting party and he quite liked her young and rambunctious attitude. He watches her interaction with you closely, keeping in mind he might have to chase her off as well if you showed any discomfort. Instead, he finds himself smiling at the way you seem to light up at the young chimp’s friendliness. He translates Tika’s signs for you, his voice low and husky from so little use.

Caesar’s touches are deliberate, perhaps reading differently to you than the statement he’s making towards others and towards himself. It’s the only craving he grants himself. He keeps his wandering hands above your baggy shirt, knowing it might read as a bit too intimate for you otherwise, tracing what he imagines to be your soft skin beneath. He restrains himself from venturing too far, despite what his dying curiosity is begging of him. Human women can be sensitive, and from what he’s learned, they’re not always accepting of such forward touches. He would have to earn your approval.

He tries to distract himself from you by averting his attention to the others around him, discussing the future plans for re-securing their perimeter and new designated hunting grounds.

When you start to drift off to sleep, Caesar feels a surge of tenderness when you slump into him. Then your face turns into his neck, and he suddenly bristles. He adjusts his hold immediately, hand splayed firmly along your rib cage to pull you in even closer, his breaths suddenly turning hot and heavy. The up and down motion of the horse and your willing proximity against him stirs up that feeling in his gut and he grits his teeth together.

Your body slots perfectly against his groin, and he thrust his hips into you without thought. The rocking of the horse is creating such a specific friction against him he almost can’t contain himself. His hand migrates to squeeze the meat of your side, the heat coming off your body nearly burning his palm.

You make the sweetest noises when nuzzled up against him, and your hot breaths against his neck are almost impossible to ignore. Caesar is acutely aware of your presence in every way possible.

He’s even captivated by your scent… a mix of the forest and something uniquely human—soft and slightly sweet, with hints of earth and the faintest trace of something floral. Yet there’s an underlying trace of human musk that coats it all, and he can only wonder what you might smell like with a bath… Despite that, it’s still a comforting scent, one that stirs memories of his own past with humans, yet it’s distinctly yours.

You breathe heavily against him, and he knows you're asleep. So easily he could go about his exploration… but he will not. Instead, he forces himself to angle his hips away from you and continue his conversation with the other apes, hoping his voice does not shake and remains a steady presence to soothe you even in sleep.

He catches Rocket’s eye and signs a quick message, his movements fluid and careful. “She is tired.”

Rocket nods, though there is a slight hint of suspicion in his expression. He signs back, his gestures slower and more deliberate than his usual energetic nature. “The others are curious. They have questions, as do I.”

Caesar glances at you, ensuring you’re still asleep before responding.

“She will answer when she’s ready.”

“It is not her we have questions for,” Rocket counters with a serious look.

Koba approaches too, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. He signs to Caesar, his movements sharp and precise.

“You show her favor,” Koba starts. “Because she has suffered, like us. I saw.”

Caesar nods, a sudden appreciation and relief flooding through him. To have Koba’s understanding means more than he would know, considering his harsh past with humans.

“She has endured much. She only craves kindness.”

Koba’s gaze shifts to you, then back to Caesar. His next signs are slower, more thoughtful.

“I can understand, but that does not mean I will show favor too.”

Caesar feels a surge of gratitude towards Koba. Despite their past differences, Koba’s willingness to support his decision means a lot.

“I understand. Thank you Koba.”

Koba’s eyes, usually sharp and intense, soften slightly when he looks at you asleep against Caesar. The lines on his face, etched by years of suffering and struggle, seem to relax just a bit, showing a rare moment of empathy and maybe even a hint of vulnerability.

When he signs to Caesar, his movements are deliberate and thoughtful, indicating his genuine concern. There’s a flicker of recognition in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the shared pain he can see in you and himself. It’s a small but significant gesture, revealing a side of Koba that few get to see—a side that understands and values compassion. A side that Caesar never expected to see Koba extend towards a human.

The conversation ends as the colony comes into view. Caesar adjusts his hold on you once more as he slows the horse to a gentle walk, but even despite his effort to keep from waking you, you begin to stir.

***

When you wake, the colony is in sight, the path ahead is framed by towering trees, torches lining the widening path. The entrance itself is a natural archway constructed with intertwined branches and vines. Homes sit among the branches, using a combination of wood and foliage to build their intricate structures. You're struck by the beauty and sophistication of it all. You had not expected the apes to be so advanced, to have created something so intricate and harmonious. The structures, woven from natural materials, blend seamlessly with the environment, showcasing a level of craftsmanship and community spirit that leaves you awestruck. It was nothing like what humans would construct… humans tear down nature to erect their monuments of progress, built to stand starkly against the natural world. But the apes build with a profound respect, seamlessly blending their creations into the very fabric of the forest.

This realization stirs a mix of emotions within you—admiration for the apes’ respect for nature, and a tinge of sadness for humanity’s often destructive path.

You feel a pang of guilt, reflecting on how humans, including yourself, have been conditioned to see progress as something that must stand apart from nature, rather than coexist with it. The apes’ ability to build and thrive without disrupting the natural world fills you with a profound respect and a desire to learn from them.

The sounds of the forest are only amplified now as your attention heightens— every rustle of leaves, every distant call of a bird, seems to reverberate through you. The fear and excitement from earlier have been replaced by a sense of calm. You feel more at ease, bolstered by the admiration of both the apes’ tenderness and compassion. You’ve seen it from both sides now. The ape you rode with has shown you nothing but respect and care, and now, as reflected by your surroundings, the apes held a level of care that fell to the most basic parts of nature.

The fear of the unknown mingles with a spark of hope. This place, with its towering trees and bustling community, could be a new beginning. But the uncertainty is still daunting. Now that you see it, and see the potential life you might be able to have, you want nothing more than to stay and become an accepted part of this society.

The apes around you continue their chatter, some casting curious glances your way as you continue on horseback with your ape companion, riding in beneath the large archway to enter into the heart of the colony. You catch snippets of their conversations, the occasional word or gesture making sense. It’s a strange, exhilarating feeling, being on the cusp of understanding a new language.

The colony is bustling with activity—apes of all sizes and types moving about, engaged in various tasks. Some lounge near their homes grooming each other, while others are tending to small fires or carrying supplies.

A fleeting memory of the human camp flashes through your mind—the harsh voices, the constant unease. Just a general undertone of fear and hostility. Instead this colony of apes exudes a sense of community and connection. The contrast is stark, and your heart races with excitement and hope. You feel a slight tremor in your hands as you grip the reins, your knuckles white. The warmth of the large ape’s body behind you is a comforting presence, one of his large hands resting firmly on your waist. Each time he tightens his grip, a shiver runs through you, a blend of reassurance and something more complex. You find yourself leaning into his touch, seeking the comfort and stability it offers. Unconsciously, your fingers grasp at his forearm, clinging to the feeling.

But then that ugly doubt starts gnawing at you. What if you can’t adapt? What if the apes’ initial curiosity turns to resentment? The thought of being an outsider once more, always on the outskirts of the community, is a heavy weight on your heart. Yet, there’s also a stubborn spark of determination. You’ve survived so much already. Maybe, just maybe, you can carve out a place for yourself here.

As you approach the heart of the colony, the reality of your situation settles in. This is your new home, for better or worse. And honestly, anything that came out of this would be better than the place you came from.

All around you, heads begin to turn. The curious stares, the skeptical frowns, and the cautious approaches all contribute to the slowly developing tension in the air. Yet, despite the nervousness, you don’t feel threatened. Compared to where you’ve come from, this is almost nothing.

The sounds within the colony envelop you. The apes’ vocalizations—chirps, grunts, hoots, and soft murmurs—create a symphony of life and activity. You notice how the vocalizations complement their sign language, giving more meaning and emotion to their conversation. So many examples surround you, and it baffles you how easy you find it to read their expressions and the tone of their conversations.

Their eyes convey a spectrum of emotions with a mere glance. A soft grunt of greeting, a gentle touch of reassurance, the subtle shift of a brow—all speak volumes in their unspoken language. Their faces, so human-like in their expressiveness, mirror the emotions you have often seen in your own kind—joy, sorrow, love, and empathy.

You see a reflection of humanity, not in the structures or tools, but in the raw, unfiltered emotion that binds these apes together. It’s truly beautiful.

The abundant variety of tones and noises brings you to notice your own ape companion’s baritone. His voice, deep and rumbling, stands out among the others. Though he could speak English, you notice he often reverted to ape sounds and gestures, seamlessly blending into his surroundings. Yet, there was something distinct about him. His movements were more deliberate, his vocalizations more commanding. Even in a crowd, you felt you could pick him out just by the unique cadence of his sounds.

Then you take notice of a group of young apes playing a game, their laughter-like hoots accompanied by a varied series of joyful chirps and whistles.

They seem to finally take notice of the entrance of you and the other apes. Their high-pitched squeals and joyful chatter burst through the soft, peaceful murmur throughout the colony, replaced by a symphony of youthful exuberance. You watch in bewilderment as the youngsters rush forward and begin to clamber up the horses around you with practiced ease.

The young apes’ faces are alight with joy, their eyes sparkling with delighted anticipation. They reach out with eager hands, their voices a cacophony of greetings and laughter. The riders, too, respond with a level of enthusiasm you were surprised by, their expressions softening with affection as they embrace the children.

Your confusion begins to melt away as you observe the interactions more closely. The way the young apes cling to the riders, the tender touches and warm smiles exchanged—it’s all so familiar. The realization dawns on you slowly: these children had come to greet their fathers, welcoming them home.

Your heart warms and beats erratically as you watch the heartwarming chaos. A few of the males dismount, a gentle urgency in their movements as their young squawked and bounced around their shoulders with determined insistence.

You never knew ape fathers were so involved in the raising of their young. It was endearing, and spoke volumes to the sentience you’ve already observed among them.

Just then, your horse is boarded by two particularly energetic young ones. One of them, with a gleam of excitement, grapples onto the ape behind you, wrapping his small arms around him in a tight hug with an exuberance unlike any other you’d seen before. The other, however, pauses to look at you with curious eyes.

Before you can react, the little guy reaches forward and tugs at your clothes, a playful grin spreading across his face.

Caesar, noticing the mischief, grabs onto the youngsters hand and gives a gruff hoot to reprimand, his tone a mix of authority and affection.

“Gentle Cornelius.”

‘Cornelius’ you note with warm excitement. What an adorable name for an adorably mischievous chimp.

Cornelius squawks at his father with playful challenge then scampers off with, who you assume to be his brother, in tow. The entire group of interactions leave you with a mix of amusement and newfound insight into the close-knit community you were hoping to become a part of.

The young apes soon scamper off, stealing off some of the members of your party in the process, and who remain continue forward towards a large communal fire.

The remaining ones around you begin to dismount their horses, pulling them away by their reins. As your own horse comes to a halt, you feel that familiar strong arm encircle your waist from behind… and then keep moving?!

Wait!

Before you can so much as react, the ape has your entire thigh grasped in the large hand belonging to the arm around your waist.

You’re embarrassed to admit you squeak a little as he begins to slide off the horse. He pulls your thigh to hike your leg over the animal. You feel like a small child the way he moves you so effortlessly, lifting you as he dismounts in one fluid motion with you tucked securely beneath his arm as you're dragged off the horse with him.

As soon as he hits the ground, his grasp on your leg releases, but his arm remains strong as you gather your balance. Although it being extremely forward and an incredibly aggressive way to go about the whole procedure, there’s a surprising gentleness you notice in the way he holds you, ensuring you remain steady. If nothing else, it only brings to mind the raw power and strength he holds. Sometimes you forget how strong apes are in comparison to a normal human… how dangerous they can be. It’s terrifying in a way, but then in another way it’s not at all.

You finally steady yourself and turn to look up at him. He didn’t look at you and meet your gaze, instead he’s already distracted by the apes that had begun to gather around, speaking to them in gestures and gentle hoots. He releases you completely, unwinding his arm from around your back after unconsciously feeling you steady on your feet, and continues his conversations.

Once you overcome your initial shock from that whole interaction, you begin to clue in onto what’s going on. These apes were not exactly here to greet you with open arms. They surround you with skeptical expressions, some voicing their opinions outright. Even though they weren’t speaking your language, it wasn’t hard for you to distinguish the reason for their uproar.

You can feel their eyes on you, judging, questioning. The tension in the air is palpable, and you instinctively move closer to your ape beside you, seeking his protection.

Amidst the strong reactions, a large orangutan moves towards you with a calm, deliberate grace. He stops in front of you, his gaze softening as he looks at you with a tilted head.

“Welcome,” he signed, his movements slow and deliberate, ensuring you could follow the basic sign. His deep, rumbling vocalizations accompanied the signs, adding a layer of warmth to his welcome.

Your chimp extends a hand towards the orangutan in gesture, looking directly at you as he speaks slowly. “Maurice.”

“Maurice,” you repeat, a gentle smile gracing your lips. Maurice chirps approvingly at you, reaching his hand out to grasp yours in a comforting gesture.

The touch brings a wave of relief. Maurice’s calm, deliberate movements and wise eyes offer a silent promise of support.

Maurice turns to meet the gaze of your chimp beside you, signing with deliberate, thoughtful gestures. His vocalizations are soft, a series of low hoots and murmurs that you can’t understand. Your ape responds in kind, his signs quick and assertive, his voice a deep rumble that you feel through his chest.

Maurice’s concern is evident in his expression, matching those around him. He signs slowly, his eyes flicking to you and then back to the ape beside you. But his response is firm, his gestures sharp and decisive. You begin to sense the tension building.

A few other apes step in, their signs and vocalizations adding to the conversation. The atmosphere grows heated, the apes’ voices rising in a mix of grunts, hoots, and screeches. You can’t understand their words, but the hostility is clear. The noise and intensity of their gestures overwhelm you, and you instinctively reach out, grabbing at your ape friend’s arm like you're scared he’ll leave you to the mercy of the others.

His reaction to your fear is almost immediate. His eyes flash with anger, and he takes a large step towards the crowd, his body language assertive and commanding. He signs rapidly, his gestures sharp and forceful, his voice a deep, authoritative roar that silences the other apes immediately. The sudden shift in his demeanor is startling, and the other apes quickly back down, their hostility dissipating under his fierce gaze.

“Enough,” He says aloud in English, his voice echoing through the clearing. “She is staying with me. That’s final.”

The firmness in his voice sends a shiver through your body, a mix of surprise and a strange, unexpected attraction. He had to be a leader of sorts—there was no other explanation for the way they responded to him.

With the situation momentarily defused, he turns to you, his expression softening from his hard scowl. He gently takes your hand, his touch reassuring. “Come,” he says softly, his voice a soothing rumble. “I’ll take you to my home.”

He leads you away from the crowd, guiding you through the colony with a protective arm around your shoulders. The tension in your chest eases slightly as you follow him, focusing on him and his warmth rather than the varied looks you receive from the apes you see in passing.

His home is a marvel of natural architecture, built high among the trees with a view of the entire colony. The walls are woven from sturdy branches, and the floor is covered with soft leaves and moss, creating a cozy, inviting space.

Caesar’s home is simple but welcoming, yet another testament to the apes’ ingenuity. As you settle in, the day’s events begin to catch up with you, and you feel a wave of exhaustion. A soft fire burns further into the home, coating the air with a wonderful heat that makes you want to melt into the floor. The familiar earthy scent of the forest mingles with the warmth of the space.

As you step inside, you notice a series of fast little footsteps running up behind you, and you turn around just in time to see two young chimps barrel up the ramp and into the home.

They both turn to face you and their father and your face lights up with recognition.

“Cornelius?” you ask softly, a worried sort of giddiness overflowing at the sight of the familiar face. The young chimp’s eyes widen with excitement, and he bounces in circles on his feet, thrilled that you remember him. He begins to sign rapidly, his hands moving with eager energy, but you can’t understand a word. His father chuckles softly at the exchange, finding amusement in the situation.

He moves too quickly for you to grab him and hug him like you desperately want to. He’s one of the cutest little creatures you’ve ever seen, him and his brother both.

Speaking of.. you turn your attention to the other young ape, looking at you shyly, fingers twisting through the fur of his own chest as he studies you. His big blue eyes only accentuates the pitiful look on his cute face and your chest spasms tightly with the urge to squeeze him.

You refrain, sadly. You feel it wouldn’t go over too well to let out your cuteness aggression in front of their father. So instead you reach out and gently cup his little face in your hands, running your thumbs along the soft part of his cheeks. The little one stares at you with wide, curious eyes, his small hands lifting to wrap his fists around your thumbs. “I’m sorry I don’t know your name sweetheart… but I will say that you have the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Has anyone ever told you that before?” you say with genuine admiration.

At your words, his face lights up in pure joy. He starts bouncing around, hooting in celebration, his excitement infectious. You watch in astonishment as he continues his little celebration, clearly overjoyed. Cornelius, not wanting to be left out, joins in the exuberant display, their laughter and hoots filling the space with a symphony of happiness as they wrestle each other, rolling across the floor.

“What-what’s going on?” You stutter in the midst of a small giggle, glancing towards the large ape standing beside you. He watches them with amusement as well, glancing towards you when you speak.

Unable to contain his amusement, he laughs. “He’s excited… you guessed his name,” he explains, his eyes twinkling with mirth. The thought makes you grin like a fool and you can’t help but laugh along with them. Blue was a perfect name for him. Blue and Cornelius.

As the excitement dies down, you look up at the large ape, a realization dawning on you. “I don’t even know your name,” you admit softly, feeling a bit embarrassed. His expression softens, and he steps closer, his presence commanding yet gentle. He reaches for your hand and smiles as if trying to formally introduce himself.

“Caesar,” he says simply, his voice carrying a weight of authority the name reflects. It takes a moment for the name to sink in, and then it finally dawns on you. This is the Caesar you had heard about, the legendary leader of the apes. The one that had led them across the bridge all those years ago. Suddenly you feel shy and somewhat nervous as you blink up at him in surprise.

“We’ll, it-it’s nice to meet you Caesar.”

Taglist: @night-shadowblood-writes2 @edynmeyer1 @chermg @httpvomitello @hrlzy

**Im still trying to get a feel for my reader character… but things are pretty complex considering her personality has been suppressed by her abuse for so long, so that’s excusable. Anywho thanks for reading! We’ll start getting to the smut soon hopefully, but in the meantime, welcome to the slow burn!***

[jjunberry]

txt! as chase atlantic songs

pairing! txt x reader

genre! angst, slight smut

warnings! toxic relationships

synopsis! songs by chase atlantic i think txt would be

wc! 600

soobin as slow down

“you’re buried in the pillow, yeah, you're so loud”

you were soobin’s dirty little secret. he met you after a show and once he had you, he was hooked. he was laid on the bed and his eyes trailed your form. “come here babe.” he said his voice deep. you crawled up the bed and sat on his lap. his hands gripped your hips, giving them a squeeze. “gonna let me fuck you?” you nodded. “you gotta keep quiet baby.” he said before flipping you onto your stomach. soobin was quick to push your panties the side. using your wetness he coated his dick and slipped in. you moaned out at the feeling. soobin grunted and pushed your face down into the pillow. “be quiet or i’ll cum and send you home needy.”

yeonjun as right here

“i’m right here, here. oh, baby take a look around, i’m the only one that hasn't walked out.”

yeonjun hated your friends. he only ever wanted your attention on him. he slowly drove them out. one by one they fell off cutting contact with you. “i just don’t understand why they go out without me.” you ranted doing your skin care. “come to bed baby, forget them.” he said. you ignored his words continuing your rant. “baby.” yeonjun snapped his voice stern. “i do not care about your fucking friends. now come to bed.” you nodded and abandoned your skin care. yeonjun pulled you against his chest. “i’m the only one here for you, forget them.” he kissed your head.

beomgyu as you too

“if you love it, then you cut the thing loose.”

it was a repeating toxic cycle. fighting, breaking up, getting back together. fucking roughly to bury the reason you faught again. you were tired but you just loved him. you’d forgive anything he did. “y/n we need to talk.” beomgyu said. here we go. another fight. “what now beomgyu?” he leaned against the door frame and watched you change into sleep clothes. “i’m done, i have my bags packed. i can’t keep doing this. it’s exhausting.” you sighed and looked at him. “very funny beomgyu just come to bed.” he ignored your words and walked over kissing you deeply. “goodbye baby.” he turned to leave. “if you leave don’t fucking bother coming back.” he just sighed and walked out.

taehyun as the walls

“honestly she needs a little loving. fuck it, now i’m getting off the subject, yeah, yeah.”

you were lonely. always by yourself. against the wall at parties, in the back of the room. he always spotted you though. there was something about you taehyun couldn’t shake. you needed something or someone. that someone being him. it didn’t take long for you to fall into bed with him. taehyun filled that void and satisfied that need and want within you. he had his hand wrapped around your throat as he thrusted into you roughly. he stilled cumming in you. when he cleaned himself up he left and rejoined the party. you never felt so full yet so alone.

hueningkai as heaven and back

“all in one night. she just went to heaven and back.”

you always wanted him. he just wanted something quick. kai took you out that night. all over the town. different clubs, different parties. you felt so high. kai took you by the hand and lead you do a dingy bathroom. his hand slipped into your pants. your eyes rolled back. before you knew it kai was taking you against the bathroom stall. you felt like you were in heaven. you could feel your orgasm approaching but it was cut short when kai finished and pulled out. he tucked himself away and left the stall. your heart sunk to your feet. it all came crashing down watching him leave you.

author’s note! i got a little carried away with this one…. these are some of my favorite chase atlantic songs soooooooooo it was only fitting i went a little crazy writing this.

tag list! @jjunieworld @304files

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry

[yanderemommabean]

I was re reading your bull hybrid fics of andy, and I really like them, and I was wondering how he would react to another farmer flirting with the reader?

I hope you're taking care of yourself and have a splendid day.

The bull just huffs, blowing air through his nose as he paces back and forth in his pen as he watches that no good Agust flirt with you and take your sunhat, holding it above your head and offering it back only if you give him a kiss. 

Andy doesn’t like August. He doesn’t like how he flirts, how he keeps his hands on you a bit too long, how he makes you laugh and acts like He can take you away from Andy himself, like the bull wouldn’t send him through three barns with just one angry kick. 

Thankfully you tell August that you aren’t going to kiss him, but then it’s followed by you flirting back, and his hairs stand on end when you say “We have to be classy, take me to the fair first”. 

No. No way in hell, as you’ve said before. What? It’s a cute saying! He likes it! What he doesn’t like is you forgetting that he’s claimed you as his, no matter how much you brush it off and act like it's some cute platonic joke. 

He kicks his hooves before easily galloping to jump over the barbed wire fence, sweeping you up as you yelp and push August out of the way. He gives warning chuffs, saying nothing as he backs away with you as you squirm and tell August “Don't worry! It’s fine! I swear! J-just give us a minute! He gets protective is all hun” 

Protective? Well, he’s a bit more than that, really, jealousy definitely has a part in his actions too. He holds you tightly in one arm as he ignores your scolding about hopping the fence yet again. Usually your scolding was cute and made him amused, with how he knew your cheeks would heat up and how you’d go on small rants that he just found adorable to the core. 

He takes you to the apple trees and just squeezes you tighter in a hug, chest rumbling in growls and dare he say- whimpers. Your worried hand comes up to try and pet his face, worried but also having a feeling this was more than about scaring away the farm help. You’ve noticed he tries to scare away August more than anyone else, even if he just waves hello some mornings. “Andy…Deep breaths. We’ve talked about how getting worked up isn’t good for you, remember?”

The hybrid just chuffs in acknowledgement, but still couldn’t help with how his instincts told him to stay on guard and keep that filthy excuse for a suitor away. “What’s this about? August was just being playful, he wasn’t bullying me none” “You agreed to meet him though. You agreed to be taken to a fair. That means you see him as a potential mate and I can't have him take you away”. His hands come to gently pet your hair, more to comfort himself than anything but you found it nice as you let the creature explain himself. You found it sweet he was so worried, but you needed to try and put some sort of boundaries down. Big sweet eyes or not, Andy can’t keep doing this. 

“Andy…You’re very sweet. You know me and you are close, and that I care about you very much but-” “But you found a human mate. As much as I’d like to understand that, I know that he won’t be good to you. Wont court you right, won’t make you smile and laugh or give you a companion when that sadness in the pit of your stomach grows too big”. “Andy-” You begin to protest, but you’re lifted up again and you're easily cradled in his large arms as he shakes his head, not letting you continue. “I care for you deeply too. I love you deeper than you seem to know. So, because I love you, I might have to do something that hurts you if you keep seeing that man”.  Your blood runs cold hearing that, and you begin to squirm again but it's no use with something so much bigger and bulkier than you. “Hurt me how?! You aren’t laying a hand on me!”

“Why would I lay my hands on you? It’s that ugly cowboy wanna be I’m going to maul, as much as you like him, I won’t allow that toxic and venomous snake around you. Whether you continue to like me or not, I’ll do what it takes to keep you close to me and taken care of, especially if that means I have to kill”.  ((I hope you enjoyed bean! Feel free to comment even if its just emoji spams lol -Mommabean))

[rreskk]

NAGGING

A small oneshot between Submissive!Trevor and Fem!reader.

Summary: He always accused you of nagging him around, even in the wrong. This time he was nagging you to treat him like a filthy whore after you had returned to the trailer - the trailer filled with grub and his burden. Word count: 1454 TW: Smut, dirty talk, angst (?)

NOTES: Sorry this took ages. I've been obsessing over The Good The Bad and The Ugly for days now

Trevor always told you about the fantasy of being fucked. In some days, he’d rather “be fucked than be the fucker”, and he was in one of those moods; slumping around the place, depressed and miserable, his mouth tied to the end of his meth-pipe with nothing to lose. He was fucking himself dirty, living like that. You watched him from the bedroom and scoffed in disgust.

He wore your dress with smudged makeup to his wrinkled face. He obviously applied it himself as the blush was shades too bright and the eyeliner smoked around his droopy eyes, whether that was caused by sweat or tears. It was a pathetic sight. You just came home from work to see your man wonder the trailer in your clothes and no will to live.

“Trev.”

“What?” His voice was stern and beasty. When you called his name, he was disturbed and shouted back with an ugly attitude and a meth-head bite.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” You frowned. “Why have you got my dress on?”

“Why’d you fuckin’ care? You never fuckin’ wear it anyway.”

“Any reason you are wearing it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” He grouched and manspread across the couch, his bare genitals dangling from the open dress. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

You stood up from the bed and walked forwards. Your footsteps were loud yet he refused to look up from his meth-pipe, sucking it and whining softly when it evaporated out of his nostrils.

“What’s up with you today?” You glared down at him. “There’s shit all over the floor, your walking around with your cock out, the bathroom toilet is blocked again. What happened?”

Trevor threw the pipe aside and raised one of his knees, fully exposing himself to you with a fiery glare. His throat vibrated through the trailer with depth and deepness, “Why do you care?”

Unconsciously scoffing, you avoided the sight of his open genitals and crossed your arms, breath heavy; wanting your “man” to grow some decency.

“Look at me.”

“No,” You shook your head and stood back. “I won’t.”

“Am I that disgusting to you?”

“No – “

“You find it disgusting when I wear your clothes and ask for a bit of fuckin’ loving?”

“Loving?” You repeated, scowling, “That is not asking for loving. That is an escape plan. You’re trying to piss me off.”

Trevor laughed obnoxiously before standing up, the dress strap on his shoulder falling down his forearm, further exposing a nipple as he walked towards you. Out of everything you stared at; his eyes took you by the neck.

“I want some loving…” His voice slurred and head tilting. Obviously he was high – as a kite. He wobbled towards you, ignoring the disgust on your face, and nuzzled his face between your collarbone and neck, inhaling then exhaling.

His body was forced against yours. Revoltingly crumbling into your arms. His mood-swings held you at gun-point. You wanted to nurture his wobbly state but your anger refrained any weakness. Instead, you pushed him back; breaking your heart in the process.

He made a small grunt and stumbled on his heel before double-looking you with a furious gaze.

“The fuck you push me for?” Trevor heaved.

In your mind, it would be taking advantage of his misery and consumption of drugs to fuck him. Something told you to forget it and go under the covers but something else told you it wasn’t safe, nor was he in the right condition to know what he wants from you.

He was too unpredictable and it took you months to understand the slightest slippery surface of his mind.

“I can’t,” You finally murmured. “You’re too high, Trevor. Just go – You need sleep. I-I think you need sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep, mam.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Just gimme what I want,” Trevor clenched his fists. “I want you. I’ve been waiting all fuckin’ day, mam. I’m sorry if I disgust you or whatever the fuck you’re being a pussy about. I just want my woman!”

You looked away, conflicted. The smell of piss and sweat suffocated the inside of his trailer; luring you into giving into his grossness.

“Ignore the mess, Angel… Ignore me if that helps. Throw a fuckin’ pillow over my head, choke me, turn me around – I don’t care, just fuck me, baby! Mam! C’mon…”

“Trevor…” You groaned and made eye-contact with his wet, dark eyes. Oh, how they stabbed you in the guts.

With his name tainting your lips, he ignored the soft cries and embraced you within seconds, his arms capturing you against his shaky figure.

“Ignore me…” He repeated as you weakened and took him by the wrist, kicking through the state of his floor and entering the bedroom.

His whines echoed through the bedroom after you pushed into him with the strap.

Despite the mere disgust still rotting you from the inside out, the pleasure plastered across his face gave you a swift adrenaline rush. You hovered over his body and thrusted into him more just to hear him groan and murmur your name.

The dress was discarded and he laid bare. He grabbed onto his own chest as you fucked him with the long strap. He took it all in; enjoying every moment.

“Good boy…” You found yourself saying whenever he made noises.

“I’m a worthless slut, ma. Please, please heal me, please – “

“Shush, baby.”

Trevor panted and stared up at you, lazily smirking, “Make me shut up, mommy. Shut me up. Fuckin’ gag me.”

Your hands were ripping the skin of his hips as you thrusted back into him, grunting at the impact of his legs wrapping themselves around your waist.

“Fuck me up, mam. I’m beggin’.”

“You’re begging, huh?” You said hoarsely.

“Don’t I deserve shit, baby?” Trevor’s eyes were full of stars. “I want you to hit me. I’m just a fuckin’ prick, mam. I’m a worthless man.”

Seeing him admit the wrecked of a state he was, you smiled. Smiling harder than you had realised.

“Ohh… Fuck… I feel so fuckin’ good…” His whines never stopped. Trevor was sprawled out over his bed like a rabid dog.

“God, you’re unbearable,” You said with a soft smirk, thrusting into him again and causing such reactions.

“More, more… More… More, ma, more – “

His begging was loud enough to be heard outside the trailer with its thin metal walls. Shouting names and curses, moaning with voice cracks and cries; he kept on enjoying your punishment until he came onto his stomach again, breathing heavily and eyes dizzy.

Any more and you knew he was going to get knocked out.

“Trev,” You pressed a hand against his sweating forehead and hissed, his temperature burning you within an instance, “Fuck, baby. You’re burning up.”

Trevor didn’t respond but breathed heavily and rolled to his side, grunting.

“You okay?”

“M’no. No, I’m not okay. I’m fuckin’ tired and horny, ma.”

“Let me cool you off,” Knowing how to give him a smoother finish, you gently caressed his flaming cock and rubbed him off, watching the way his legs shook and back arch at your business.

Trevor was easy to please. Grinding into your palm, he whimpered your name until it felt dry on his tongue.

“Ohhhh, fuck…”

“One more, baby,” You told him, warming up his cock between your palms.

He arched his back with a soft whine, “Gonna cum… Need to cum…”

Ushering him to orgasm one more time – he took in your words.

Trevor grunted roughly as his cum squirted onto his stomach again, the pile of whiteness oozing down his skin and making a small puddle underneath his frame on the bed. He looked drugged; though this time it wasn’t the meth. It was the way you pounded in and out of him mercilessly, and he enjoyed every moment.

“Goddamn…” He breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

His penis fell limb and you lied beside him, fumes captivated by the smell of his sweat and body. You smiled, “Feel better?”

Trevor nodded without a word.

“You gonna sleep now?”

Scowling, he nodded again, out of defeat.

“Good boy…”

“Just… Don’t get fuckin’ mad at me…” He murmur when turning to his side, “I fuckin’ hate when you nag at me.”

“You were the one nagging me today, and look where we ended up?”

“Maybe I’ll nag you more.”

You chuckle at him, “I’m surprised you have the strength for that.”

“Until I drop dead, sugar. You better keep going.”

[farfromstrange]

Lizzi's Kinktober 2023

Day 3: Cockwarming

October 18th, 2023

Main Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader (use of "good girl")

Summary: Matt is always working, but you need him. So, he gives you what you want. Sort of. But not really.

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT (18+ MINORS DNI), cockwarming, praise, use of "good girl", teasing, slight Dom!Matt, not proofread (I sense a theme here)

Word Count: ~970

A/n: This is a drabble again, and I am so sorry for not posting it yesterday. I finished it and then I fell asleep. Oops. I caught a cold and I am so tired, so I hope this can live up to expectations once again.

Matt’s working. 

He’s always working. Either on a case or out on the streets as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The protector. There are only a handful of moments when you have him all to yourself, and sometimes you have to beg for it and hope he caves. 

Just like tonight. 

He’s been working again. He’s been working ever since he came home. He told you he would have to go out at some point that night, possibly after you’ve gone to bed. Maybe he’ll cuddle you, but that is never certain. You can hope, you can pray, but you can never be a hundred percent certain that he will be there.

But you love him. 

You don’t care that he is gone a lot because when he isn’t, he makes up for the time he missed. He treats you like you are an angel on earth. That’s what he calls you often enough.

Angel. Sweetheart. Divine. Heavenly. He loves you more than you’ve ever been loved. He would go to the ends of the earth with you. But you can’t make him stop something that sustains him. You understand. You really do.

He’s doing something to help people, and if you have to spend a night or two alone, so be it. Not everyone could do what he does, and that’s as much a blessing as it is a curse. He has to do it or he will lose himself. Maybe it’s an addiction, maybe it’s unhealthy, but you love him and your love has survived much worse than that.

Still, there are times where your needs become a little too hard to ignore, and most of the time, they take over.

Sometimes, the little voice in your head gets stronger than your common sense, and you become needy. You become so needy, Matt can’t tell you no because deep down, he loves it when you get needy.

It’s the easiest way to distract him, being needy. It’s the easiest way to get him to pay attention to you, yet at the same time, it makes him just want to take care of you in ways he too often neglects. 

Matt has been sitting at the dining table, typing away on his laptop as he listens to witness testimonies on his latest case for what feels like an eternity.

As the time dragged on, you eventually started shifting on the couch, watching him, trying to get his attention. When that didn’t work, you started sighing. It took about thirty minutes until his low voice rang out, “Come here.”

And that is how you ended up here. Part of you regrets it now that you have been teasing him so relentlessly, but you couldn’t stop. You had to do it. This is your compulsion.

His hard cock is nestled deep within your slick folds as he’s got you seated on his lap, chest to chest. He’s so deep inside of you, you can feel him in your very soul.

Your walls are so tight around his girth, you can feel his veins pulsating every time you try to shift your position. You’re clinging onto him for dear life, your head on his shoulder, and he just types. He types away on his laptop as if he isn’t buried completely inside of your wet cunt. The clicking sound is slowly starting to drive you crazy. It’s his moans you want, the sound of skin slapping against skin, not whatever this is.  

It’s torture, to say the least.

“If you’re so needy, you can keep me company while I finish this report,” he said to you after he called you over to him. 

You thought nothing of it until he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. 

“You can keep my cock nice and warm for me until I’m done, and then I’ll fuck you, baby. I promise. I just have to do a little more work.”

You shouldn’t have pushed him, but God, you love what he feels like inside of you. 

You shift again. His left hand flies to your hip, stopping you. “Don’t move,” he says. “I’m not done yet.”

Your moan is muffled through his dress shirt. “Please, Matthew,” you whine. 

“No.”

Oh, he’s cruel. He’s so, so cruel. 

He knows exactly what he’s doing, too. His rough hands alternating between gently resting on your thighs, stroking up and down, and his nose burying in your hair to breathe in your scent—and every time your clit bumps against his pelvis, you can’t help but moan and seek more friction. But when you do, when you move to seek friction, he stops you time and time again because, “I’m not done yet.”

When will he be done? 

Every time he breathes, every time he talks, his cock moves just a little deeper. He presses against that sweet spot inside of you entirely unintentional, but he knows instantly what effect it has on you.

At this point, you’re sure he’s teasing you. He’s doing this on purpose. Is he even working? You’re sure he can’t be. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers into your hair. “And so good for me. I’m almost done.”

“You’ve said that before,” your voice is hoarse, breathless, on the edge of breaking. 

Matt only chuckles, tilting your head back to give you the softest of kisses. Suddenly, you’re not so mad anymore. The pleasure that simple kiss sends straight to your already dripping cunt, coating his cock in even more wetness and allowing him more leeway as he shifts in his seat now, forcing you closer together—it is inhuman. You moan into his mouth, and the kiss turns heated. 

You are so needy. Maybe he is getting desperate too. He’s kissing you back a bit more forcefully, and you’re sure he’s about to lose it. But then he stops, pulls back, and focuses back on the Braille on his keyboard.

“Be good,” he tells you. 

You try. You really are trying, but it seems nearly impossible. You still bury your face back in the crook of his neck, and you try to breathe. 

The rubberband in the pit of your stomach tightens with every passing second, threatening to snap. Your nerves are on fire. Your muscles are sore. You can feel yourself tensing up, trying not to move, trying not to make a sound…The relief is too far away, still.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

You’re done for. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, and the lewdest moan escapes your lips. 

“You like that?” Matt asks. “Being called a good girl? My good girl? Is that it?”

He shifts again. It’s better than nothing. It soothes the ache in your core, but as soon as he stops, it multiplies. 

“Yes,” you breathe. 

“Then be good just a little longer for me, sweetheart, and I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

You’re going to hold him to that. 

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @ravenclaw617 @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch

Also tagging: @blackshadowswriter @1988-fiend

[peachesofteal]

Cupcakes

Maybe this will be a thing. Or maybe not. Either way, I've got the Pedro brain rot.

Joel Miller/female reader One shot - 1.1k words - AO3 Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, mentions of blood, violence, gore. Joel is bad at feelings. Descriptions of explicit sex. Joel doesn't understand you.

He doesn’t understand you. You smile. With your mouth, your pink lips curling above a deep scar on your chin. 

“It’s my trophy.” You told him one night. “I got it from a crazy fucker who had a barn fulla clickers.” He’s not sure why any person would be penning up a bunch of those things, but you did say he was crazy. “Killed him though. Was one of my first ones.” He watches your face go dark with the memory, and he tries to imagine what you were like before all this. Soft, sweet. Probably someone’s wife. Maybe you stayed at home. Made dinner, made breakfast. Maybe you were the type that made cupcakes, real ones from scratch, with sweet spun sugar icing. Maybe you took care of someone. 

He doesn’t understand the way you think. You’re always telling him to take it slow, take it easy, take his time. He can’t. He doesn’t know how. He has to move fast, quick, easy on his feet. He cannot slow down. You have no problem making pace, but it doesn’t keep you from voicing your opinion. 

“You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack. Don’t the doctors usually start old men on baby aspirin at your age?” He’s not that old, for christ’s sake. He’s not even forty-five yet, he thinks. When you laugh at your own jab, it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. 

He doesn’t understand the way you fight. You creep around like a god damn cat, brandishing a knife in your hand, another two slipped in your boots. You liked surprise, and you hated guns. The first time he had watched you put a blade in someone’s clavicle, he thought he was going to be sick. He didn’t like you having to get so close, no matter how many times you tried to assure him you were fine. And he hates how his head spins when he watches you put that same knife in the side of a clicker’s head, twisting it for good measure, before you’re shoving off of them and bashing their skull in. 

“Can’t aim worth a shit.” You complained the day he took you out for practice. You couldn’t hit a single bottle, and he couldn’t fight the grimace that graced his face. When you saw it, your cheeks turned a different color, and guilt burned inside him. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so fucking stubborn. Why you don’t listen when he tells you to do something, when you blatantly ignore him when he tells you not to follow the crying little kid that’s begging for help. 

“It’s not like it was life or death.” He turned on you so fast he watched your eyes go wide, his arms pulling your shoulders towards his chest. “It is life or death!” He had yelled. You had run into that building without a care after that kid, and he could hardly keep up. Turns out, the kid’s mom was already infected, and he didn’t understand. He was only five. You covered his eyes while Joel put her down. You had carried him all the way back to camp, even after Joel had offered to take him, arms wrapped tight around his back as he cried. So stubborn. But you let Joel hold you that night, for the first time. In the dark, your hand running up and down his spine, your whispered words repeating over and over. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Joel.”

He doesn’t understand your feelings. The way they shift from one day to the next. He doesn’t like how it feels when he catches you crying, drop of tears webbed in your pillowy lashes. 

“What is it?” the words are gruff, and he wishes he was softer for a split second. You sniffle and shake your head. “It’s my dad’s birthday. Or would’ve been.” He gets it, he does. But he doesn’t know how to show you, so he just sits down on the step, his shoulder against yours. You wrap your hand around his knee after you’ve dried your tears, and he holds his breath while you turn your tear-stained face up towards him. “Thanks, Joel.” His name on your lips makes his blood sing. 

He doesn’t understand the way you talk to people either. The way you make everyone feel like they’re some ray of sunshine in your life. Like they matter to you. You give everyone your smile, and your eyes, and your touch. You rub Rita on her back when she throws up every second week of the month, like clockwork. You braid the Marshall girl’s hair when her mom isn’t around to do it. You try to arm wrestle John when you both get a free moment, and he can hear your laugh clear across the yard when he lets you win. 

“He gets a kick out of it.” You tell him one night. “Makes him feel good. Shitty world we live in, you know?” 

He knows. 

He wants to make you feel good.

He hasn’t had a woman under him in years. He’s all rough sandpaper, and he can’t imagine that scraping against your porcelain skin. But, that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. He dreams about bending you back on one of those shitty mattresses, your skin rippling in goosebumps under the tips of his fingers. He imagines the way your mouth tastes, how your hand would feel wrapped around his cock. He thinks about how you’d sound, with his mouth on your cunt, his tongue licking up inside you, pulling an orgasm through your gritted teeth. He’d hold your hip in one hand and fuck his fingers into you with the other, feeling the way the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. He thinks about how he’d push your hips down onto his cock, your back arched in his arms, your mouth pressing into his shoulder as you moan. “Joel.” you’d whine, tongue darting out to lick your lips, hand gripping his forearm. “Fuck, Joel. Please.” He’d bite the skin of your neck, bringing it between his teeth, pulling the blood to the surface to brand you. You’d be his. 

These things he wants, they’re just a fantasy. A gentle dream, like the memory of the world before. He knows that, he does. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting. From watching you when you’re on guard, hips swaying with every step you take. Doesn’t stop him from taking himself in his hand when he thinks about the curve of your waist, the prominent dips in your hips, the soft crease where your thigh bends when you sit, legs folded against each other. He wants to pin you beneath him until you’re shaking, wants to hold you to his chest while you sleep. He wants the sweet, soft spun sugar that melts in his mouth, the feeling of you in his arms. He wants the cupcakes, the real ones. 

He wants it all. But it’s only a fantasy. 

[synthetickitsune]

Like Oxygen ✧ x.mh

Pairing: Xu Minghao x reader Genre: angst, comfort Summary: Sometimes there are so many thoughts in your head you forget about the wonders of life. And sometimes life is so hard you forget how to breathe. Word count: 1.5k Warnings: depression, self-destructive tendencies

"I don't know if you're doing this on purpose or not but it feels like revenge."

Minghao's voice is that faux cold of feigned disinterest that he uses to hide his vulnerability.

Because it was supposed to be revenge, you think, it was revenge until it wasn't.

You don't acknowledge his words, let them hang in the heavy air of the dark bedroom. You screw your eyes shut so tightly you see white and try to imagine the quiet, tiny, hurt, sigh that leaves Hao's lips and that he tries to hide doesn't feel like a punch to the gut.

There's a limit to the strain you can put on the relationship before it gets irreparably damaged or breaks. When a person is as sensitive as Minghao is, it's hard to say whether the point is further away or closer than you thought. You know he'll try to understand and think deeper than simply believing you are ignoring him for the sake of upsetting him. Then again, him saying this, and in this way too, is a warning sign. A pretty bright, flashing, neon-colored one.

You suppose something did snap inside you after that fight. Well, a bit after that. At first you did indeed mean to give him the cold shoulder, because you were petty and, yeah, some things he said cut a bit too deep even if they were true. Then again, you were working through them. Until life happened, and work got busy, and you had to do overtime day after day and started coming home late and all you managed to do was wash up before falling asleep. Everything got kind of thrown out of the window then.

Maybe it's best if you keep ignoring him. Maybe if you're distant for long enough, it'll ruin things beyond repair and… well, it's not like you can find it in yourself to care right now. Maybe the pain would help you feel again. Maybe you just wanna feel like you’re right about something - even if it has to be Minghao inevitably leaving you because he deserves better. Maybe if you weren't already half asleep, you'd get to the point in the thought process where you'd realize how little sense that makes. Maybe.

Come morning, and the one after that and the one after that… you can’t even properly register your thoughts anymore. Everything just drags on for eternity and you feel yourself spiraling into lethargy that is only broken by a stabbing pain in your chest each time you see Minghao. Some part of you wants to spit his words right into his face, some part of you understands, and much, much larger part of you wants to run to him and cling to him and beg for his love.

You know he’s not doing this on purpose. You know he’s also busy. You know he’s, most of all, just trying to protect himself. It hurts nonetheless, more so because you know it’s you who he’s raising his defenses against.

But you need him.

You need him more than ever because this is hard and it’s too much, and you feel like weight just keeps getting added onto your shoulders, and yet you keep carrying it so it’s shattering you instead of breaking you at once. You need him but he’s so cold and far away and it feels like you’ve finally done it and he’s not gonna return. You will lose him and you’ll be right but it doesn’t feel like you’ve won anything because you played a stupid game and all you’re gonna get is a stupid prize.

When Minghao comes home, he expects the silence that’s been basically the trademark of your home for what, weeks? Months? It’s getting hard to tell and if he got to think about it any more he’d probably break down. He doesn’t get to, though, because the moment he closes the door and the sounds coming from the street can no longer be heard, he hears badly muffled sobbing instead.

It’s like an instinct. 

His body moves regardless of his will, his legs carry him towards the sound in a rush and determination that ignores that he’s still wearing shoes and that the bag with his laptop hit the ground without the usual caution he puts it down with. His mind is blank and all he feels is a cold dread.

He barely registers where he is, where you are, he only comes back to his senses when his arms are wrapped tightly around your trembling form and he’s pulling you into his chest and tucking your head under his chin and he’s shushing you, whispering sweet nothings and trying to calm you down. He tries to be sneaky when his hands move slowly over your body, trying to feel if you’re physically hurt somehow. He needs to know you’re okay and he realizes that’s what he should’ve been doing this whole time - make sure you’re okay. But he was too hurt himself and he failed to do that and while he understands he was in no state to care for both you and himself, it still leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Shhh, y/n…” he murmurs and he feels his voice break, “Tell me what you need.”

“Just hold me,” you sob and he’s thrown into the ice cold water of regret and pain all over again. He’s so tired, his body is exhausted, and yet somehow he finds the strength to pull you closer and uses the last of it to hold you like that until the oxygen in your lungs runs out. And still he feels you nuzzling closer and your hands grabbing at his clothes like he’s your lifeline and after being denied the feeling of being important to you for so long, it feels addictive. This is what he wants to be to you. This, sans the crying, is what he wants to come home to.

“Breathe with me,” he whispers, but he only feels you move closer, feels you bury your face into his chest. But that’s not where you’ll find air to breathe. It feels like the cruelest thing he’s ever done when he’s coaxing you to pull away enough to look at him. He wants to keep reliving the moment you immediately lean your forehead against his like you can’t stand being without him if only for a second. He keeps one arm around your waist while he cups your face with his other hand. He brushes your tears away as gently as he can with his shaky touch. Your eyes are so captivating he can’t look away.

“Breathe for me,” he whispers and you’re close enough that his lips brush against yours. His hand never leaves your skin as it slides down your jaw to your neck, down your shoulders and lower until it finds your hand. He intertwines your fingers while he brings it up to his chest and splays your palm over his heart. “Please. Can you feel me? Breathe with me.”

And so you do.

He adjusts his breathing to yours first so it’s easier. He guides you like he always does - gently, lovingly. Slowly he helps you calm down and steady your breathing. Neither of you can tell if you take in a deep breath or if your lips meet for a kiss before you part.

It feels unpleasant, to part. You’ll have to face the past weeks now. You’ll have to explain. It makes you want to forget the last couple minutes, that really felt like a whole another lifetime, and imagine they were just a dream. You want to go back just to avoid the confrontation.

“I still want to hold you,” Minghao says before your flight reflex can win over the fight one, “If you want me to.”

You feel the tears flowing slower now, as you smile a wobbly smile and huff a laugh. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t push you into anything. He doesn’t push you away without meaning to. As you’d know he wouldn’t if you remembered sooner that this is Minghao who knows you best in this world.

You trust him with your soul to guide you through this when you slide your hands into his. You let him pull your along and let him take you to the couch. You know he’ll catch you when he pulls you down and makes you fall. When he pushes you against the back of the couch and traps you between it and his body, you feel safe.

He pulls the weighted blanket you keep there for times like these over your bodies. His arms fit snuggly around your body and it soon gets nicely toasty under the soft fabric covering you. You cuddle closer to him and close your eyes. It’s safe.

You’re safe.

And you know he’ll keep it that way.

You know he won’t ask, and you know he’ll wait until you’re ready. No matter how long that is.

Maybe this time you won’t have to run.

Maybe.

[deathsimage]

Awakening (part 3)

Ghost x Reader (18+ / NSFW)

Part 2: here

Description: essentially Ghost obviously hasn’t been intimate with anyone for a long time, until now. With you. You awaken a beast in him, practically turning him into a hungry alpha that can’t keep his mind off of you.

Content: cock warming, piss kink, fingering, over stimulation, squirting

Note: this is by far the nastiest part so get your pearls to clutch (last part btw)

Grasping a glass of bourbon in his hand with his mask pushed up just above his nose to toss back the burning liquid down his throat to extinguish the fury in him; but it wasn’t working.

You knock on his door, only hearing silence. He’s ignoring whoever is at the door, assuming you, Soap, or Price. You just knock harder, practically beating on the door. “Simon! I know you’re in there! Talk to me!” Still nothing. Thankfully you’re trained in breaching so you just kick the door open since it was locked. Obviously surprised, Simon turns to see you, silently staring at you.

“Simon what the hell was that?” You slam the door shut behind you. He’s still silent. You walk up to him and punch him in the chest. “Simon talk to me!”

He glares down at you, completely unfazed by the hit to his chest. “you didn’t hear what they said..”

“So? You’ve never cared what people say before”

“It was about you.”

“So? I don’t care.”

“I do!” He snapped

“..why?”

“No one talks about my girl.”

Silence..

You smirk up at him “..your girl?” You say as you step up closer to him, placing your hands on his chest.

His chest is rising and falling with deep annoyed breaths, but within a second his glass of whiskey is thrown to the floor and his hand is around your throat, his foot sweeping your feet from under you in one swift motion, pinning you back against the couch. His mask is moved up just above his nose from where he was drinking, now only inches away from your face.

“Yes. Mine.” He practically growled, causing you to shiver

“Yeah…yours.” You look up at him with longing, waiting for him to kiss you. “I’m all yours Simon..you can have me.”

His lips finally crash into yours, his hand leaving your throat to help the other hand working on your pants to get them off. Within a few minutes the only sound to be heard is the squelching of your pussy against his fingers as his two middle fingers slam into your cunt. “Your pussy belongs to me. Understand?” He growled

“Yes Simon!” You’re practically shaking, back arching off the couch as he holds your chest down with the other hand, his hips between your legs to keep them open while he fingers you relentlessly.

“uh uh. Yes, what?”

“Yes sir! My pussy is yours Lieutenant!”

“That’s my good girl”

The sensation of his palm smashing against your clit every time his fingers slammed back into you made stars spark in your blurred vision. Your toes curled as your legs were forced open by his hips that your knees were bent over. Back arching up off of the couch, your nails dig into the skin of his biceps as your body shakes, high pitched whimpers coming from your lips as you feel yourself reach your orgasm.

He’s chuckling, looking down at his hand that’s glistening even more than it would be normally from just the slick of your cum. Your brain isn’t processing what happened yet, your mind still foggy from the world shattering orgasm you were coming down from.

“Simon?..” you say breathlessly, confused as to why he’s chuckling. Does he find your dumb fucked state cute or someth- oh..oh, you feel it now.

“tt, tt, tt.” He clicks his tongue as he shakes his head “such a bad girl, squirting all over daddy’s couch and even my jeans.”

You- you squirted on him.

You feel your face heat up with embarrassment until his fingers leave your pussy, making you whimper at the empty sensation. Watching him lick his hand clean like he was savoring the most heavenly taste to ever touch his tastebuds, made you blush even harder if it was possible.

“Im sorry sir..” you whisper

He chuckles and looks down at you until he realizes you’re actually embarrassed. “Oh baby doll, no it’s perfectly okay. In fact, I love it.” He gets up off of the couch, kneeling down and pulling your hips to him, pulling your legs open to lick up between your folds, slurping up all of your juices. This made you yelp at the overstimulation, and just from the pure lewdness of the sound from his lips and tongue attached to your soaking pussy.

“Such a good girl for me..” he says as he gets up, lightly tapping the inside of your thigh. “But you still threw a punch at your superior officer. So, in the floor, on your knees. Now.” he commanded, his erection obviously painfully pressed against the zipper of his jeans.

He won’t let you put your panties back on or go clean up, he loves the sight of you like this, especially knowing it’s from him just makes him higher than any drug ever could.

You’re on your knees in front of him with his cock in your mouth, your cheek laying on his thigh as he just watches tv. It’s been an hour or so of him just making you hold his cock in your mouth, not allowing you to do anything else or he yanks your hair and lightly slaps your cheek. He stretches his arms and he groans, looking down at you as he moves to grab the back of your neck. “Sorry love..but I gotta piss.” You start to pull yourself off of him so he can go to the bathroom but his grip tightens, making you look up at him confused with your mouth still stuffed with his cock.

“I didn’t say you could move.”

Your eyes widen, a deep blush on your cheeks as you know where this is going, but the little purr you give against his cock gives him the green light. Letting himself release inside of your mouth, the liquid draining and dripping from your mouth that’s suctioned around his cock, running down the base of his cock and down his balls. Your eyes watered a bit at your mouth and throat being so full, but your eyes fluttered up to his, his palm pressing against your cheek. He lets out a small moan at the sight, wishing he had recorded it to save it forever, but that’s okay, because this wouldn’t be the last time. He exhales deeply at the release, his palm resting on your cheek, his thumb softly rubbing over the soft skin.

“Good girl..you can get up now. Let’s go clean up. You’ve earned it.”

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 23: Understatement

Pairing: Mer Mayday x Ice Dragon Reader

Summary: After coming out of stasis, you meet an exhausted commander.

Author’s Note: Crosshair in this AU went with the Bad Batch at the end of season one. So there is a reason he’s not here.

Warnings: Minor Violence. Death. One we don’t care about and two are clones. I’m sorry about the clones. May they rest in peace.

Word Count: 1258

Prompt: They say it’s lifeless, the frozen sea our frozen world is built on. But where the ice is thinnest and most dangerous, I have seen a light, faint and flickering, a cold and distant star.

Prompt 2973 by deepwaterwritingprompts

You had been asleep for a very long time. A couple millennia even. Most sea dragons had fallen into a deep slumber after the Mer Wars. The Sea Alor of the time had said to sleep after all the sea dragons had sacrificed; we deserved to rest.

However, the Mer forgot about you and the rest of your kind. Most turned to stone over the years and fell apart, never to awaken again. As you awoke, you realize that there is only one other of your kind left; their magic can barely be felt in a deep ocean fissure far away.

“Ice dragon.” You gently lift your head. “You are needed for the fight ahead. Return to Mandalore.” You slowly begin to stretch out your atrophied muscles; the call of the Sea Alor was not to be ignored.

“It will take me time, but there I shall be.” You recieve a gruff, but understanding humm in reply before the connection is severed. You turn your head up to the icy bay and begin swimming up.

Mayday hates having to keep the bay clear of thicker ice. Did he hate everything about this island he was stuck on? Absolutely. But this specific chore has a special amount of hatred attached to it. Sadly, if what remains of his men were going to get off this frozen rock, the bay has to allow a ship to get to the dock.

They didn’t have any ice or water manipulators so that just left breaking the ice with tools; their increased strength and durability as Mer being the only thing making the job possible. Also didn’t help that Veetch had to keep an eye on the perimeter so it left him and Hexx to do this chore by themselves every other day.

Mayday suddenly stops when he hears the ice creak beneath him; he’s come to a thin section. He slowly gets down on his knees and looks for something he has glimpsed only a few times. They say it’s lifeless, the frozen sea this frozen island is built on. But where the ice is thinnest and most dangerous, he has seen a light, faint and flickering, a cold and distant star. He has thought many times about swimming down in mer form to see what it is, but logic always reminds him that he would freeze to death before he got anywhere close.

While he finds the light again, he is more than suprised to see it getting closer. His heart is in his throat when he is able to see what it actually is. What you actually are.

“They’re extinct.” Mayday can’t believe his eyes even as you turn to look at him. You linger just under the frozen top of the bay.

“Move.” You warn tiredly. “I don’t want you to fall in, Mer.” He doesn’t need to be told twice and scrambles back. Once you see he’s at safe enough a distance, you ram your head through and pull yourself out onto the ice. You flop down, completely spent.

“Are they awake yet?” You groggily sit up in someplace warm at the sound. You rub your eyes; one would think staying awake after being in magical stasis so long would be easier than this.

Finally, you look down at yourself and almost jump in surprise. You’re in human form. Stars, you forgot you could even take this form when you needed to conserve magic.

“Good morning.” The bearded Mer hands you a cup with something steaming inside and you slowly take it. The other two Mer, who look identical to him, linger in the background. Your eyes linger on the sad shape of their armor for only a moment, not wanting to offend. It occurrs to you that he sounds far too much like the Sea Alor who summoned you, but you decide that’s not important at this precise moment.

“Than- Thank you.” You stumble out, far too annoyed with how your muscles in this body rebel just as much as the one’s in your true form did.

“You’re welcome.” His smile makes you pause; it’s kind, but his face looks like it hasn’t made that expression in a long time. “Now what is a dragon doing on Barton IV?”

You remain with them almost a month as you regain your strength. You grow quite close with the three men as they share what is currently going on in the outside world. Or at least up till a little over a year ago when they were stranded out here. You more than earn your keep in turn by scaring and fighting off the raiders while the three work on the base.

In fact, you are almost at full power when a squad from the empire you’ve heard so much about shows up. Mayday sneaks you out to the nearby mountains and you watch the base from a distance. You should go to Mandalore now, but you can’t in good conscience leave them here after they helped you.

To say you are viciously angry when you feel Hexx and Veetch die is an understatement. It only grows when you meet Mayday as he leaves the base; apparently he’s being sent on a suicide mission after the raiders.

“Are you certain you don’t want me to obliterate that base?” You hiss as you shake with rage. You can see his eyes soften though his t-face helmet; his mouth is covered with a rag in an attempt to stay warm.

“As tempting as that is, cyare. I do actually want to get revenge on those raiders.” You nod before following him through the passage the raiders were using. “Besides, just the Lieutenant would be perfect if you don’t mind.”

You let out a snicker in repose and you thread his fingers through yours. He gives you a squeeze in response, but continues to look forward.

This Mer has been good to you when he did not have to be. You weren’t going to let anything happen to him.

Once you are both on the other side, you shift into your dragon form. You keep them distracted while he grabs the stolen goods. It is nice to finally be rid of them when the fight is over, but nothing prepares you for finally seeing what the stolen cargo actually is. It was knocked over in the last of the fight and brand new T-K Trooper armor stares up at you and Mayday.

“We were good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?” It lingers in the frozen air after he says it. There isn’t any comfort you can think to give. It’s just cruel and wrong.

Then the ground begins to shake, precursing an avalanche. You’re up in the air with Mayday in one of your claws within seconds. You call for him to climb up and slow down for him to do so. You feel him cling to the juncher between your neck and wings as you fly through the cold cloudy sky. He sits up straighter, staring in awe as you soar past a black ice vulture.

“Let’s go kill that lieutenant.” You turn your head just enough to see him smile as you say that; the rag covering his lower face having been pushed down by the wind.

“I think I might love you.” A joyful laugh rumbles through you at that.

“And I you, Commander.” To say there was nothing left of Lieutenant Nolan by the time you and Mayday left Barton IV would have been an understatement.

[specialagentlokitty]

Giles x teen!reader - the family you need

Part 4:

You walked home, and you didn’t everything you could think off to try calm down, you had a shower, your tried cooking, cleaning, taking a nap, listening to music.

It took a long while, but eventually you had your anger back under control, you had calmed yourself down, and you sighed, burying your head in your hands.

You skipped the rest of the week of school, ignoring your door and phone, focusing on killing demons instead.

As Monday rolled around you trudged your way to the library, hesitant as you reached for the door, but you took a deep breath and opened it.

“Mr Giles?” You called.

You stepped in and he came out of his office, setting some books in the side.

“Thank goodness you’re alright, you had us all terribly worried (Y/N), we tried to call you and they tried your apartment.”

“Yeah I know…”

You sighed a little, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your hoodie.

“Im sorry if I upset you, or if I pried too much, but what I heard was concerning.”

You shrugged a little, walking over to a chair and you sat down, kicking your feet up on the chair opposite you.

“I get it, you hear a kids got a bunch of scars, you wanna figure out what’s going on, I get that you know?”

Giles slowly walked over, sitting himself on the table, his back to you as he listened.

“I mean it makes sense, kid looks like they get beat every night, you have to do something about that, it’s your job to be worried. I overreacted and I’m sorry.”

He turned to look at you, shaking his head.

“It was no overreaction, it was extremely understanding, I pushed into something you most likely don’t want to remember. You were hurt, angry, and that’s okay, but I don’t worry about you because it’s my job (Y/N), yes it may be my job to look after you all, but I worry because I care. I care about you all, so after what I heard I wish to ensure that you are safe.”

You turned your gaze away from him.

“It’s in the past, you can’t change the past.”

“But it still hurts, does it not?”

“Yes, it does. The past is always going to hurt Mr Giles, but what’s happened has happened, we can’t change that, but we can learn from it. The past is what makes us who we are right?”

Giles nodded his head.

“Then what does that make you?”

“I don’t know yet, I haven’t figured that much out, but I’m still learning.”

He smiled softly at you.

“I see, but are you safe?”

“Yes, I’m safe.”

“There’s nobody in your apartment that is hurting you?”

You shook your head.

“No sir, I live alone.”

“Alone?”

“Like I said, things of the past.”

He sighed, nodding his head, and he looked at you.

“If you were in danger you come straight to me, do you understand?”

He got up, coming back with a slip of paper and he gave it to you.

“If you think you are in any danger, or you don’t feel safe, you either call here, or my home, or you come and find me, these are my numbers, and all the places you can find me if I’m not here. Any danger at all, I don’t care how small it may be.”

He took the paper, looking at it for a moment before you looked up at him.

“Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I will not have you going through anything of this sort again, especially not alone. You are not alone anymore.”

This made you smile a little bit, and you put the paper into your pocket.

“Thank you…”

“I truly am sorry for whatever had happened to you in the past, and if there does come a day you wish to talk about then I am all ears.”

You nodded your head and stood up, looking at him you smiled a little.

“Can you tell the others I’m sorry? I don’t really want to see them right now..”

“Of course I will.”

With that you left, going back home.

You pinned the paper he gave you to the fridge so you always knew where to find it.

Heading to your balcony, you stood overlooking the part of town that you could see.

You felt guilty that he didn’t know about you, he was so ready to help you, so ready to protect you, just like Colt.

But he didn’t know the truth, if they found out what you were would they be so worried about you? Would the kill you?

You had no idea.

Taking a small breath, you closed your eyes for a second and opened them again, and you saw the burst of demonic energy.

“Of course…”

Hoping over the balcony you landed on the street and began running, but you couldn’t see anything else from the ground, so you sought higher ground.

Jumping into a shop, you jumped on to the next tallest building and looked around.

You saw the flash of red again, and you ran towards it, knowing exactly where it was coming from.

Jumping down, you looked at the school seeing the door had been blown in and you slowly walked over.

Whispering the small chant, you drew your sword from your arm, putting it over your back.

You could smell the demonic energy, and hear the sounds of fighting.

Crouching, you looked down the corridor and you watched the demon throw Buffy into some lockers and stop.

“I know you’re here~” the demon taunted.

You stayed quiet, without drawing your sword the demon wouldn’t be able to fully sense you.

“Come on now my young leader, don’t play games with me.”

You crept back the way you came and down a different hallway.

You circled the demon, and when he turned his back to you, you grabbed Buffy, pulling her into the classroom, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Is there anybody else here…?”

She nodded, and you moved your hand.

“Library…”

“Buffy you need to get them out of here…”

You heard a noise making the pair of you go quiet, and you looked at her, gesturing to the door.

“You can’t fight him…”

“I’ll be okay… please… get them out of here…”

“You can’t!”

“Go!”

You pushed her towards the door and you ran out the other, whistling loudly to catch the demons attention to distract him from buffy.

“Yeah, that’s right you bastard follow me!”

You spun around, leading the demon the other way and when you were sure you were in the clear you spun on your heel.

Raising your hand and you slammed it into the demons face, sending him through a wall.

“Ah, they warned me you would be strong.”

He grinned, standing up and in a flash he was in front of you, his fist connected with your stomach sending you flying through the walls outside.

Rolling on the grass, you grunted in pain and sat up.

Pushing yourself up, you whispered the chant again, putting your sword away.

You knew what he wanted, and you weren’t going to let him have it.

The demon walked outside, grinned from ear to ear, tilting his head a little.

“Oh they’ve made you their pet, how cute, I bet they don’t even know what you are.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Charged you swung from him, and he jumped on the roof so you followed him, throwing punch after punch that he easily dodged.

He grabbed your hoodie, throwing you in the air, and jumped up, slamming his leg into your chest sending your flying straight back through the roof so hard you put a small hole in the floor.

You coughed, blood flying from your mouth as you took a deep breath, and he smirked from on the roof above you.

“You’re weak, embrace it. Embrace what your father gave you.”

“Don’t you dare…”

The demon jumped down, grabbing you by the shirt he punched you over and over in the face.

“Do it!”

Buffy jumped on him, and he easily threw her off, looking around the library.

“Oh how cute, they can’t even see me, let’s change that.” He snarled.

“Don’t you dare…” you whispered.

He punched you again and got up, stalking towards them all.

He didn’t hurt them too badly, he simply scratch them all with a clawed finger, then he smirked at you.

“Now they can see me it’s going to be so much more fun to kill them..”

You slowly pushed yourself up, sneering lowly.

“Don’t… you dare…”

He paced around you in a circle.

“Maybe I’ll start with the slayer, never killed one before, should be fun. But either way you’ll watch me kill all of them.”

“Don’t touch them!”

You lunged forward, kicking him through the doors, breathing heavily.

Giles saw that spark in you that he saw the other day, he saw the small flash of blue in your eyes but it was gone.

The demon laughed manically.

“Oh your father is going to be so proud!”

The demon charger, standing in front of you.

“I’ll drag your body back me…”

He grabbed you, spinning around the threw you back outside and you rolled on the grass, blood flying from your mouth and the various cuts you had all over your body.

Pushing yourself up, you limped back over, and you whispered the chant again, drawing the sword from your arm.

Standing at the top of the stairs you looked at the demon who was stood there.

“That’s what I’m talking about… but they’ll find you~”

“Not if I stay in control they won’t…”

You took a shallow breath, slowly drawing your sword, blue flames lighting up your body, lighting the sword and you tossed the scabbard aside.

“You want to fight… then fight…”

He lunged and you were gone, roundhouse kicking him back to the floor, and you jumped, slamming your sword at him and he barely moved out the way.

He tried to punch you but you blocked it, and lunged again, his fists the only thing blocking your sword.

Giles rounded everybody up and pushed them into his office out of the way.

You were slammed into the ground, then thrown into some books.

No amount of hits could stop you, even when you could barely stand you kept fighting, standing between the demon and the office door.

“I won’t let you.. hurt them…”

“Try to stop me.” He sneered.

With a cry of pain, and anger, you swung your sword, blue flames branching out and he stared in horror.

“He will win! You will rule by your father’s side!”

“He is not… my father…” you spat.

The flames surrounded him, and he screamed as he was turned to ashes.

You took a few deep breaths, extinguishing the flames so nobody else got hurt in any way by them.

Breathing heavily you took a few shaky steps you dropped to your knees, coughing blood on the floor.

You pushed yourself up, limping to the scabbard, and you slumped again the wall, sheathing the sword.

Whispering the chant, you put it back and groaned in pain, trying to stand up but you couldn’t, no matter how hard you tried your body just wouldn’t let you.

The door to the office was opened and slowly they all came out.

They looked around the mess, and you groaned in pain, closing your eyes before opening them again.

“I.. I’m sorry… about the books…”

They snapped their gazes to you, and you gave weak smile, and rested your head back on the wall.

“What the hell are you?” Buffy whispered.

You said nothing, and Giles held his arm out as she went step forward.

You recognised that look, it was the look they all had then they find out.

“Do you not recognise the blue fire?” Xander whispered.

“No?” She whispered back.

Giles took his glasses off, cleaning them before he turned his attention back to you, putting them on, and he looked at you.

More so, he stared at you.

“The flames of satan himself. This is the demonic child of Satan, I heard rumours about this, but never did I think it was true.”

“I’m.. sorry…”

You groaned in pain, slowly pushing yourself up, stumbling a few steps into the stairs and fell over once again.

You couldn’t stand, you needed time to heal, but you couldn’t go anywhere until then, so you simply just kept getting up, falling over until you finally found a spot in the school away from them so you didn’t have to see the looks on their faces

[ilovsupernaturaltoomuch]

Memories Within (a series) PART 1

an epilogue of sorts

description: A young woman without her memories, seeks out for answers in a world of supernatural. What and who will she find?

The beginning of the story may be a little confusing, you, the reader, are following the journey and same confusion that y/n feels. Bare with me here…

WARNINGS: This story is dark, with themes of violence, obsession, swearing, gore and more! If anything of the darks sorts makes you feel uncomfy, this story isn’t for you :/ possibly isn’t entirely proof read ;)

Memories within - Epilogue

“Y/nnnnnnnn, pay attention to me i’m bored.” Lucifer whined like a small child, i bite my lip and smile as i dog tag the page i was on in my book and turn to face him in our bed, well maybe more my bed than his given he doesn’t tend to have a habit of sleeping.

We lock eyes and he seems pleased with himself. “Hi,” i whisper and smile at the man i’ve grown to know seemingly twice.

“Hi.” he mimics and reaches to push a strand of hair behind my ear. There’s a moment of quiet tranquility between us. Enjoying one another’s presence as i stare into his deep blue eyes. His eyes that match one of my own in fact. I’m not sure if i was always like this, my mismatching eyes. One of my own eye colour i presume, and one eyes that mimics his exact shade of blue. i’ve grown to love my eyes, despite their lack of symmetry.

“What has you so consumed in those pages that has you ignoring me.” he asks. Despite only sharing a few weeks of time and memories worth with Lucifer, I can read him on a level that sometimes even scares him. His question seems innocent enough, sarcastic even, but deep down within those stormy blue eyes i can see the darkness that swirls within the question.

Lucifer is a man, sorry archangel, with many layers, i know he cares for me, but he struggles to express it in a healthy way, and I can’t help but make excuses for him.

Have i always been a big reader? i briefly wonder before Lucifer snaps me back into the present with his light grasp on my chin, lifting my face, searching for my eyes.

“Where did you go Y/N?” curiosity laces his voice, but also a sense of doubt.

“What?” I reply, unsure what he means or how he wants me to answer.

“You seem to disappear into your mind a lot recently.” He searches within my eyes for an answer.

“Sorry, there’s just still a lot of confusion, you know?” i say and smile, trying to ease the sense of doubt within him.

“Stop looking. Stop reaching into your mind trying to find answers Y/N, they aren’t there. I wish more than anything you could remember it all, but it’s a miracle you’re even alive, so try live in the present now and stop looking.” He explains sincerely, but again there’s that hint of darkness, a threatening darkness that sends my stomach into knots.

“You’re right, i’m sorry, i’m just glad i’m here with you.” i say and smile, pulling him in for a brief kiss on the cheek before i stand.

“Shall we go for a walk?” i say and reach for his hand. He smiles, slightly menacingly given i gave in so easily, but takes my hand without question nonetheless.

The Bunker -

Dean sat with his head in his hands, lack of sleep beginning to catch up to him even as a hunter. Sam, Cas and himself, endlessly racking their minds, endlessly searching for answers within the endless collection of books, trying to find a way to trap Lucifer back in a broken cage.

“I just don’t get it, how did the bastard even get out, isn’t that thing supposed to be like inescapable… better yet, indestructible..?”Dean grumbles to no one really, but Sam still gives him a shrug of acknowledgement while absorbed into his own reading.

Cas sat quietly, perhaps in distress, holding his temples like he’s in discomfort. “What’s up with you chuckles?” Dean questions, pivoting the back breaking wooden chair towards his angel friend.

“It’s… angel radio… somethings happened..” Cas mumbles, it’s hardly audible but the boys seem to understand him well enough.

“What’s happened Cas?” Sam asks with worry, as if they don’t already have enough on their plates.

“It’s lucifer.. He… broke into heaven.” Cas says finally beginning to ease up as the angel radio goes mute.

“Of course he did.” Dean throws his arms up in frustration before he slams the book in front of him closed, wasn’t relevant anyways he thinks to himself having given up on the reading for today.

Sam, always the voice of reason speaks up, “What for? I mean, why would he even risk it?”

“It seems he stole something, but I couldn’t make out what.” Cas explains as he squints his eyes in confusion.

“Must of been pretty important if he was going to go through the trouble and obvious risk to pop in back home.” Dean says as he takes a swig from his now warm beer he forgot about and throws a brief face of disgust before taking another swig.

Dean statement brings the boys a moment. A pivotal moment of silence. One in which all two men and an angel are silent, in thought. A moment in which all three seemingly share one profound thought simultaneously and exchange the same horrified look.

“No… there’s no way..” Sam mumbles, eyes wide.

“Is that even possible Cas?” Dean asks before standing to his feet followed by the other two.

“It shouldnt be, it’s unheard of, but…” Cas doesn’t finish his sentence, Sam and Dean have heard enough, it isn’t impossible, that’s all they needed to know before darting towards the stairs that make the exit of the bunker.

Cas pauses, he ponders on the possibility before realising he shouldnt put anything past Lucifer and he follows the brothers outside. With each step up those stares the anxiety between the three rises. All three men slowly pick up pace unconsciously, as they make their way outside, the winter Kansas air hits their face but they go unfazed as they have only one thing on their mind.

Making their way, in unison, down that path in the woods, curtesy of Dean, to their left, the path seems longer than it was, or maybe that was just the anxiety, the anticipation, the doubt, maybe even the hope.

The all too familiar willow tree comes into view, a tree not native to Kansas, yet after being planted, thrived anyways. But it wasn’t the tree they were concerned about, it was what lied at the base.

Dean reaches it first, followed by Sam and Cas. Now it wasnt what was at the base of the tree that now concerned them either, it was the lack of what was supposed to be there.

“Fuck..” Dean. breathes out, slightly out of breath.

“No… I mean- how is this even possible Cas?” Sam asks, that wide eyed look still plastered on his face. Castiel doesn’t answer, because how could he. He may be an angel but he doesn’t know everything.

There at the base of the tree was a dug up grave, which in heinsight wouldn’t be too odd given their line of work, but it was what was missing from the grave that had them not only sick to their stomach, but also in contrast, a twinge hopeful.

Because there in that dug up grave, was a missing body.

The Winchester brothers little sister.

You.

[pbs-theundeadmaggot]

first love // slow burn

🎶slow burn by the world alive

(AU) Steve Harrington x fem!reader

[a/n] as promised this is from Steve's perspective, but be warned things are about to get messy from here on out...

[warnings?] angst ofc, sorta manipulation, oblivious idiots

first love masterlist here!

Hiraeth- the longing for a home to which you can’t return, a home which maybe never was. A devastatingly beautiful word that Steve found resonated deep within him, burying itself inside his hollow soul. It seemed no matter what he did or where he went he would never feel at ease, constantly on alert like a lion being stalked by its prey, all until one day everything went quiet. 

You were both kids when you first met, wide eyed and ready for an adventure, even if that meant doing things you would most definitely regret later on. Nonetheless you’d made years worth of memories within the first couple months of your ever-growing friendship, memories you wouldn’t trade for anything or anyone. From the time you’d slept outside with nothing but a couple pillows and blankets to keep you warm, resulting in a horrible cold turned flu for the both of you, or the time you thought it would be funny to tie yourselves to each other for the day, ending up with you breaking your arm and Steve getting his first of many black eyes. 

He was there when when your world got turned upside down, he’d watched from afar when your parents began to turn, their usually happy go lucky attitude morphing into that of a monster, offering you comfort when you needed and a safe place to rest your tired eyes. He became the constant that you so desperately seeked and in return you gave him a reason to wake up every morning, you were the quiet breaking through his horrifyingly loud mind. 

He couldn’t understand the rapid beat of his heart threatening to break through his rib cage whenever you got too close, nor the sweaty palms he’d find himself constantly wiping to avoid disgusting you, as if that could ever happen. Spending almost a decade of never thinking twice about his feelings it wasn’t until the end of 86’ when Robin started dating Vicky that he realised what love really was. Forget all the sappy smooth sailing bullshit, he’d watched the two be forced to love in secret. To keep their relationship on the down low for their own safety and despite all of their hardships, years later they were getting ready to move onto the next chapter of their lives, together. 

Love wasn’t something obvious and sickening. It wasn’t something that screamed obnoxious and in your face. Love was silent and deadly, it took its time wiggling its way inside of you until you were too far gone to realise. Love was addicting and unexpected, the quiet he felt with you grounding and allowing him a second chance at living. It was obvious but scary, yet somehow so enticing he would happily get burnt if it meant you would love him as he loved you. 

Love was the small actions that showed you cared, it was the non-sexual but intimate afternoons spent lazing around talking about everything and nothing. It was only then that it dawned on Steve that he was in love with you, but with that revelation came the panic and fear gripping ahold of him and sending him into overdrive.

Love was what led him to now. Unlike the fairytales love was like anything; poisonous and fatal at uncontrolled doses. It was the ignorance of thinking only you knew best without informing the other party. Love was a darkness that grew bitter if not tended to, the rain cloud that fogged your thoughts and led to stupid avoidable mistakes. Love was a chance, a bet, the fate of your future left in the hands of uncertainty, the pain of losing someone you never had in the first place. 

Rebecca was a welcome convenience, causing a tornado of emotions that allowed him to get so caught up in the whirlwind that was her that he’d forgotten the calm and comfort of you. Almost unconsciously he set her up to fail by putting her on a pedestal so high up it was impossible to reach. After all you were the one he held a candle for, the one who ran around him mind endlessly, you were imperfectly perfect that nobody could ever compare. 

Although, at the time he hadn’t thought too much about it, living for the now and acting on impulses he should’ve got under control a long time ago. The distance between you and him had begun to stretch months before he’d met her, neither of you knowing what to do about it or why it was happening. From the constant excuses from either side and the busy schedules it was easy to forget what you had, especially since both of you were in denial, choosing to carry the burden to the grave then to be free once and for all. 

Luckily Steve had been digging his grave for a while, with the fear of returning to the surface weighing down on him he continued to dig until he couldn’t any more. At a standstill unsure of what to do he stood up taking the pack of smokes from the nightstand and stumbling his way to the balcony leaving an upset Rebecca alone in the unwelcoming bed originally meant for you and him.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

[a/n] reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and encouraged!

Other works available here!

Taglist: @freezaz123