#deep forest c

[daily-ynfg-worlds]

Deep Forest C

[pomeqranateseeds]

(x) (x) (x)

NO ONE IS COMING TO SAVE YOU.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖱𝖾𝖽' ༄࿔ 𝖡.𝖢.

⤷ Size Kink | Stomach Bulge | Teratophilia (Wolf-Hybrid)

♱ word count: 1.8k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, Red Riding Hood reader x Wolf Hybrid Chan, I never specify body type but this has stomach bulge & Chris is described to be bigger than the reader so read at ur own discretion, size kink, teratophilia, knotting, kinda corruption?, bribery/coercing, lowkey kinda mean chris (everyone act surprised. Sian wrote mean dom), rough sex + big dick chris with no mentions of prep, biting, public sex? Its in a forest but nobody is around, 1 use of “good girl’

sorta proofread

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

“Tsk tsk tsk… You should know better than to be this far out in the woods, Red. You know this is my territory.”

“C-Chris! Listen… I’m really sorry but I need that plant over there. Grandma isn’t doing well and the only remedy that will help needs just a few of those flowers…” The tall man looks over his shoulder, eyeing the purple-colored flowers that you had pointed out.

“Hm… Okay, you can have a few.” The bright smile that grew on your face was almost enough to let you take it for free. Almost.

“Thank-” “On one condition.” 

“C’mon, sweet girl. You know I don’t do things for free~” His rough fingers stroked your cheek and he couldn’t help but grin as your smile dropped. The canines that peeked out from behind his plump lips were enough to bring you back to reality and remind you that he was in fact still a wolf hybrid and not so much your “friendly” neighbor.

“What exactly do you want…?” His grin seemed to get wider before he took his bottom lip between his teeth. A predatory glint took over his eyes as he slowly looked you up and down.

“I have something in mind…”

“Open the fuck up.”

His growl rumbles from deep within his chest and he thrusts his hips forward aggressively, causing you to cry out. Your thighs ache from the action, along with your swollen pussy thanks to the big dick that was currently tearing your insides up. You lost count after the first 5 inches, and now the seemingly never-ending length was quickly becoming too much for you.

He knew this all too well. But that didn’t stop him from forcing you and your little human body to take every last inch of his thick cock inside of you.

“C’mon Little Red, you can take it. You need to, remember?” He chuckles and pushes your thighs further apart. “You need those pretty little flowers, so you need to take my fucking cock.” His smile drops at the end of the sentence and he pulls out just to roughly thrust back inside. You moan out in surprise and his fingers dig further into your thighs, leaving crescent-shaped divots in your skin. 

“P-Please…” He clicks his tongue and leans forward more, shoving his face into your neck with another growl. With this, he manages to push another inch or two into your puffy hole, but your mind is so foggy that you don’t even notice it right away. The feeling of him breaching your walls so aggressively, all while he growls and huffs about how he needs to be all the way in for it to “count as payment” makes your head spin.

Even more so as a sob rips from your throat when he finally bottoms out. Your jaw drops and you squeal as his hips grind against yours, causing him to feel deeper all while he rubs against your G-Spot so perfectly. He throws his head back at the feeling of you completely wrapped around him and groans deeply when you clench subconsciously.

“There we go~ Good job, baby.” He licks a stripe up your neck before placing kisses all over it, letting you take a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t that much of a brute- he did still care for you after all. Plus, what good is a new toy if you break it so early on!? So he takes a few seconds to himself, backing away and fixing his posture, allowing him to get a good look at you. And God do you look exquisite.

He licks his lips and looks over your body multiple times, doing everything in his power to burn this image of you into his head. He starts with your pretty lips, swollen and shiny with drool, and then your flushed cheeks that are wet from the fat tears that fall down them.

His eyes glance at your arms, smiling to himself at the army of goosebumps that have littered your skin as your body shakes deliciously with what he can’t decipher if it’s pleasure or pain. Your chest catches his eyes next; the way it heaves with each breath you take makes his chest swell with pride. But the thing that took the most of his attention, was the not-so-little bump on your tummy.

His lips were slightly parted and his breath was quickening as he lightly traced the outline of his dick. It’s at this point that he realizes just how large and wide he is compared to you. He’s always noticed- it’s quite hard not to. But when he has you like this, below him and completely at his mercy, he finally realizes just how much bigger he is. The sun only urges him further, casting a giant shadow over you that completely covers you and some of the ground you lay upon.

It makes his instincts go absolutely crazy and he can’t hold himself back from experimentally thrusting, moving at an angle that makes the bulge more prominent. The squeak you let out causes his eyes to flicker back up to your face, essentially snapping him out of the daze he was in. And when he meets your confused face looking up at him, he realizes how long he has been staring.

“Haha… Take a look at this, baby.” He wipes some of your tears and tilts your chin to help you look down. The desperate moan you let out sends his ego to the moon, causing him to twitch against your walls. He huffs out a laugh in disbelief and begins to move his hips, thrusting into you slowly yet roughly.

“I’m so deep… You feel that, baby?” His hand moves from your thigh and pushes down on your lower stomach, right on top of where the bulge popped out each time he bottomed out. “Fffuck.. ‘S my fat cock in your tummy?”

“God- Fuck, shut up Chris-” You clench tightly at his words despite your words and he ignores you in favor of picking up his pace, groaning when your walls flutter around him even more.

“You feel so fucking good. It’s almost like this pretty pussy was meant for me.” You swear you almost see his eyes roll into the back of his head, but he immediately brings your attention away by folding you in half. Pushing your knees to your chest and letting your ass hang in the air as he completely hovers over you, fucking into you with carnal need.

This new position makes you see stars and he uses it to his advantage, pounding into you and not allowing you time to think straight. He chases this brutal pace until your legs begin to ache, the pain of it overpowering the pleasure and making you hurriedly tap on his shoulder and push him back, “Fuck, wait- my legs.”

He huffs in annoyance but responds immediately, sitting up straight and allowing your legs to fall to his sides. His hips continue to thrust shallowly as you breathe deeply and try to rub the ache away, but this break doesn’t last long. You owe him payment, and he wants it now.

So he pulls out, opting to quickly flip you onto your knees and push your chest into the ground. You’re given no time to object before he’s shoving his entire length back inside with a groan. Your body shakes at the feeling of being absolutely filled to the brim. The back of your throat even itches as if his tip was poking it. And god, did it genuinely feel like that.

It’s not hard for him to find his previous pace, especially now that you’re seemingly more pliant for him. The only disobedient action from you is your cries for him to slow down, but he has no plans to. Not when you look absolutely ruined below him.

He shushes you and leans forward, holding you down with his chest against your back as he continues to fuck you as if his life depends on it.

“Shhhhh… It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re gonna be good and take it right? You're gonna let the big bad wolf fuck your brains out? Yea?” Your fingers dig into the ground and you nod as best as you can with your cheek shoved against the floor.

He’s unhappy with the silent answer and bares his teeth, sinking them into your shoulder with a growl to “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes! Please, Chris!”

“Goood girl. Just sit there and take this fucking dick. Let Wolfy use you like the good chew toy you are.” The new name makes you clench tightly around him and he groans as you cum, causing the squelching noises to become even louder. He moans and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving small kisses before he chomps down again.

The overstimulation is starting to hit and you cry out, desperately pushing against the ground in hopes of pushing your torso up and off the floor. But that’s not what good toys do. So he growls against your neck and pushes you down, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place as he fixes his posture.

“No. You’re gonna sit still. Good toys don’t fucking move. I can’t knot you if you’re misbehaving.” As if to prove his point, his other hand digs into your waist, holding you even more still as he rams into you.

Thanks to his thick tip incessantly knocking into your cervix, you don’t process what he says right away. At least, not until you feel an extra mass pushing against your swollen folds. “W-Wait, your knot?!?”

You hear his earrings jingle as he tilts his head and you can almost hear the shit-eating grin on his face as he mocks you. “Yes, my knot. You’re gonna take it inside of this tight. little. cunt. And you’re going to take every last drop of my cum.” You go to disagree but your body reacts on its own, clenching around him and trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.

“F-Fuck- feels like you do like that idea, baby.” He grits his teeth and starts to focus on sharp thrusts. Once his knot finally breaches your hole, you sob into your arm and bite into it to hold back a scream.

He whines and grinds into you, rubbing against your G-spot roughly as he pushes himself over the edge. You can feel his breath on your neck, heavy and heaving as he pumps you full of his seed. His body shakes with each spurt of cum he releases, and the overwhelming movements are enough to push you over the edge again; the needy grinding from him mixed with the mind-numbing feeling of being overfilled, yet forced to hold every last bit, pushing you towards another orgasm.

“Mmmm… Hold it there, yeah? Keep my pups nice and safe in their new home, and I’ll let you take as many plants as you want. Deal, Little Red?”

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[suiana]

YANDERE! DRAGON AND MONSTERFUCKER READERRRR, you guys.

you go missing in a forest one day and accidentally fall into a pit that's... scarily big. is that a cave beside it???

"wtf where am i?"

"human."

all of a sudden you see a big ass dragon in front of you, scales and wings and all that. his deep voice booms throughout the entire area, his claws pointing at you threateningly as his sharp eyes narrow down at you.

"holy shit are you gonna eat me???"

"...what is a human like you doing here?"

"i came for a picnic with my friends but something started to chase us and i fell into this hole."

the dragon merely stares at you, his snout coming in closer. you could only whimper in fear, face contorting as you stare at this massive dragon that was getting closer and closer to you with each second...

but wait a second... why's he actually kinda...

"now hold on just a second before you kill me can i just say that your teeth are absolutely gorgeous?"

"what?"

"they're so... white... and sharp... and your tongue looks so long..."

you sit upright, staring at the dragon as you bat your lashes at the dragon. yeah... wait a second... why were you even scared??? it's a dragon! you've been reading about dragons too! you've literally also been like, praying you get a hot dragon boyfriend too! that means-

"boy i bet you're really good in bed, huh? you're so big and handsome..."

"..."

"you're so strong and sexy... i bet you get everyone you want, yeah? i mean, i am just so into this whole dragon thing too... so sexy and-"

you watch in lust as the dragon backs up at your words, his eyes widening before he brings a hand up to his snout and looks away. aw! is he bashful?!

"human... your naivety knows no bounds-"

"how can i control myself in front a big sexy hunk like you though?"

the dragon stares down at you, smoke coming out from his nostrils before he suddenly scoops you up with a claw and drags you back into his cave.

"you shall be mine now. i am intrigued by your... whimsy behaviour."

"hell yeah. can i get a dragon harem?"

"no."

aw man :c you forgot that dragons are territorial and possesive. wait a second, did he just claim you as his mate? erm...

at least you'll get some dragon dick :3 24/7 btw because this dragon is freaky af!!!!

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Mating Season

Halsin x Female Reader | sexual frustration | sexual tension | growly bear halsin | totally adoring halsin | horny bear mating instincts | semi-shifted sex | fluff | smut | nsfw

How Halsin’s romance might have played out if we could have had his kisses, adoration, and been totally railed senseless by Oak Daddy from the end of Act I. An ode to Halsin’s hairy chest, big arms, and the vein that I know stands out so thickly on his *muffled horny noises*

After a long and tiring day of fighting off goblins as you search for the Githyanki Crèche, you groan in relief as you sink into the cool waters of the river. Everyone else is back at camp and you’re able to enjoy the currents swirling around your naked body. 

You float in the water, thinking about how much your party has grown in the past few weeks. First Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion, then Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach, and finally Halsin, the wildshape druid you rescued from the goblins. He’s a focused member of the group, a valuable healer, and an unstoppable force in battle. You occasionally feel things turning against you in a fight, and then Halsin is there, supporting the group and laying down swathes of flame, lightning and ice. His bear shape never fails to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. 

Around the fire at night, he talks openly about his quest to free the Shadow-Cursed lands, his admiration for the party, and his praise for your leadership. His gentle words about you have your body prickling with awareness of his. 

That warm smile of his. His large and clever hands. His deep, gentle voice. Everything about this man makes you tingle all the way down to your toes. Whenever you think his gaze is lingering on your mouth, he murmurs goodnight to you and leaves your side. You watch him go, wishing that instead he would reach out and touch you.

An angry, snarling sound fills the air and you sit up in the water. Not far from you, an enormous bear, grunting and breathing hard, walks heavily down the riverbank. It’s huge, and its muscular body blocking out the setting sun, and from the noises it's making and its attitude, it’s a hair's-breadth from lashing out at anything that moves. 

You freeze, not daring even to breathe, hoping with everything you have that the animal will turn around and head back the other way. Instead, it launches itself into the water with an almighty splash. 

As it disappears beneath the surface, you notice a faint scar over the bear’s right eye, as if it’s been clawed. You recognize that scar. 

Wait, is this--

Golden light flashes. The water seethes. A man stands up where there was a bear just moments ago, water cascading from his body. Halsin, and he must have stripped before he changed into wildshape for now he’s completely naked, standing hip-deep in the water. 

He’s partly turned away from you but you can tell his manner is no less worked up than it was in bear form. He swipes his hands angrily through his dripping hair and breathes hard, the muscles of his shoulders and arms clenched in frustration. 

Halsin is one of the gentlest-natured men you’ve ever met, most of the time. Like nature, he too can be wild, his eyes flashing and his voice breaking like thunder over you when he’s frustrated or disappointed, such as when he was remonstrating Kagha for the Rite of Thorns. How magnificent he was that day. 

But what is he restless for now? He stands in the water, looking around at the forest, gripped with frustration, and when he turns a little more your way you can see that the root of his cock is thickened in a tell-tale manner. 

Ah. 

That kind of frustration. 

You quietly make your way to the edge of the river where a willow tree is trailing in the water, moving as carefully and as quietly as you can. This feels like a private moment you’re intruding on. Even though you don’t mean to spy, it feels like you are. The fronds of the willow provide a little cover for you, and hopefully Halsin will cool off and leave the way he came. 

The dice do not roll your way this evening as he approaches you, seeking deeper water. A moment later, your gazes lock, and his eyes widen in surprise.

‘What are you doing there?’

‘I wasn’t spying on you,’ you tell him quickly. ‘I thought you needed some peace, so I was waiting here quietly.’

His eyes run over you, your back pressed against the river bank and cowering amid the willow leaves. 

Halsin heaves a regretful sigh. ‘I frightened you, didn’t I? I am sorry. It’s all right, I am myself again.’ 

He smiles and holds out his hand. It’s a tight smile, like he’s forcing it for you, but you’re no longer worried a bear is about to disembowel you.  

You place your cool fingers into his large, hot ones and let him draw you slowly out of your hiding place. The water is deep enough here that your nakedness is covered, and so is his.

You relax as you gaze up at him, enjoying the sensation of Halsin holding your hand. Quietly enjoying the sight of his bare chest and handsome face. You hope he might walk you into the shallows so you can be naked together, but he remains in deep water, sunk in thought.

‘The river is yours. I’ll leave you to enjoy it,’ you murmur, and glance to where you left your clothes. 

Halsin’s fingers are still tightly twined through yours beneath the water. He seems to be in a world of his own as he gazes at your mouth, your throat, the droplets of water sliding through your wet hair and down your shoulders. A world that includes you. A world where you’re touching one another. 

‘Halsin?’ you ask tentatively. Hopefully. If he wants to move closer and kiss you, that’s more than okay with you. After a long and dusty day, there’s nothing you’d like more than exploring his body in the cool water. That hairy chest of his. His hard muscles. You long to run your tongue over him. Flex your fingers on his biceps. Trace the red tattoo on his cheek.

Halsin comes back into himself with a deep inhale, and he lets go of your hand. ‘Then I’ll see you back at camp.’ He moves away from you through the currents. 

As you push the water from your body and dress in your clothes, you search for Halsin in the river, but he’s disappeared around a bend. 

***

Later around the campfire, you’re hyper aware of Halsin as you talk with Gale about his home in Baldur’s Gate. Halsin is silent, the campfire flickering over his handsome face. You try not to pay him any more attention than you do the others, but your interest in him has spilled over into blazing attraction.

Your gazes lock and Halsin’s brows are drawn tightly together. 

Is he glaring at you? 

A moment later he gets to his feet and, unnoticed by the others, slips away into the darkness. Something’s eating at that man and you wish you knew what.

A short time later, you take a bottle down to the river to refill it with water before turning and heading for your bed. As you round the corner of the ruin where you’ve made your camp, you run straight into Halsin. 

His eyes widen and they flare with heat and surprise, and then he quickly looks away and moves past you.

‘Have I done something to make you angry with me?’ you call after him. 

Halsin stops dead. He stares straight ahead for a moment, and then slowly turns to you, shaking his head. ‘Far from it. I am worked up and frustrated, but not with anger.’

Maybe his frustrations are because of you, and that’s a thought you don’t know what to do with when he keeps avoiding you. 

Not knowing what else to say, you tell him, ‘We will free the Shadow-Cursed lands soon. I know we will.’

He breathes out heavily, his expression troubled. ‘I’m not thinking of the Shadow-Curse right now, even though I should be. It is more important than anything I...’ He trails off, but his gaze lingers on your mouth. ‘...want.’

Halsin steps closer, and you feel the heat blazing off his chest. His warmth and bulk are so welcoming and you crave to reach out and touch him. The backs of his fingers caress your hair. The lightest of touches. Then he takes a handful of your hair and dips his head, bringing the strands to his nose. 

‘You smell wonderful.’ He heaves a deep sigh, and whispers, ‘Can I hold you for a moment?’

That sounds lovely to you, and you nod. 

Halsin wraps an arm around your waist, scoops you against him, and buries his face in your neck. ‘By Silvanus, your scent is sweet,’ he groans. ‘I caught it when we first met, in that foul goblin nest. How it pleased me. Getting to know you these past few weeks has been even sweeter.’

Your hands are plastered against his chest and so is your body. He’s saying everything you hoped to hear. More than you hoped to hear. He has such a beautiful way with words. You turn your head so he can kiss you, but he still refrains. 

Taking a ragged breath, he releases you and steps back. ‘I’m sorry. It’s always difficult this time of year.’

You miss his warmth so much that you shiver. ‘What time of year?’

He gazes at you for a long time. ‘You may laugh, but I’ll tell you. It’s bear mating season.’

You don’t laugh, but your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

‘I know--I’m no bear,’ Halsin says with a laugh of his own, ‘but I spend so much time in wildshape that bear instincts tug on my heart and...other parts of me. I return to my own form and unfortunately the needs do not dissipate. In fact, they worsen, because it is not a bear I want. When she comes close to me smelling like spring and honey and warm sunshine I can’t help but crave her.’ A smile glimmers on his lips.

Enough being vague. You want to hear him say it. You step closer and put a hand against his chest. ‘A general someone, or anyone in particular?’

He groans softly and captures your face in his hands. He drinks you in and swipes his thumb across your lips. The gesture is soft, and full of the promise of his kiss.

‘You are someone I admire and I think I could grow to care deeply about,’ he murmurs. ‘I care about you so much already. Any little scratch you receive I want to push Shadowheart out of the way and tend to you myself.’

Your heart soars.

‘But this isn’t how or when I wanted to begin anything with you. I have to walk away.’

Disappointment plummets through you. 

He’s still holding your face and his expression is conflicted. It seems he wants to put an end to this for now but can’t bring himself to do it. 

‘I can walk away, if that helps?’

His eyes fill with gratitude and longing. ‘Please. That would be a mercy. Know that when the time comes, I will come to you with more than lust in my heart.’

You nod, trailing your fingers down his chest as you step back, but you fail to see what’s wrong with him desiring you. ‘Whatever you need. Of course.’

‘I hope I haven’t offended you.’

You smile gently at him. ‘Your desire is so far from offensive. Please know that I don’t demand more of your attention than you’re willing to give. The Shadow Cursed lands are your priority and I’m...’ How to put this delicately? I’m here for you and you can rail me senseless in between your duties whenever you want to let off steam. That’s what you want to say, but you’re too shy to say it. ‘...Here. Your friend. Always.’

Halsin seems to catch your meaning anyway as his jaw flexes and he nods slowly. 

You promised him you would walk away, and you do, and though you give him ample time to allow him to pull you back, the next sound you hear is a clash and a growl, and a flare of golden light. When you glance over your shoulder, a bear is thundering into the woods on all fours. 

***

A few days later, you’re returning to camp feeling like you’ve been put through a meat grinder, and your companions haven’t fared much better. Gale is unusually silent and covered in blood. Shadowheart is exhausted and dragging her feet. You’re trying not to limp because she and Halsin have already cast so much healing magic. Something’s wrong with your leg, but you’ll see to it yourself when you’re alone. 

The others bid you tired farewells as they head for their tents, but someone catches your arm and holds you back.

‘Oak Father, you’re bleeding. Why didn’t you say anything?’ 

Halsin is staring at your legs, and you stare with him. Blood is pooling around your foot. Oh, that’s not good. 

‘I can tend to it myself after I’ve had some rest--’

Your words are cut off as the massive druid picks you up in his arms and carries you into a crumbling barn. Automatically, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean against the solid bulk of his chest. Halsin lays you down on a pallet and helps you remove your armour, revealing a ragged gash on the top of your thigh. Your clothes have to be cut away until your legs are bare.

Halsin looks exhausted and has dark circles under his eyes. It seems he’s been taking little rest as he roams the forests nightly as a bear. When he reaches for you to lay healing hands on your wound, you place a hand on his wrist.

‘You don’t have to do this right now. I’ll bandage myself up and someone can heal me after they’ve rested.’

Halsin raises challenging eyebrows at you. ‘You believe I don’t have the strength to heal you myself? That I’ll walk away from the most important person in my life and leave her bleeding?’

You moisten your lips, trying not to show how much his words have affected you. The most important person in his life? Suddenly you don’t feel injured at all, and he hasn’t even healed you yet.

‘I have more than enough magic left for this. Now, lay back and let me do my work, and then you can get back to yours.’

You settle back on the pallet and gaze at the cobwebby rafters. Halsin’s hands hover over your thigh, and a warm, delicious feeling spreads through your leg, and then up between your thighs. Your head falls back in relief and pleasure. 

Even Halsin makes a surprised noise. ‘That felt...’ He rubs your now-healed high, massaging the last of the tension and pain from your muscles. ‘That felt different. How’s your thigh now?’ 

You can’t help but moan and arch your back a little at his touch. ‘Good.’ Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.

‘Just good?’ He strokes his palm over where there was a cut just moments ago. 

‘Halsin, please, you make me feel heavenly,’ you whimper. The words pass your lips without thinking. You reach up to take hold of his shoulders so you can pull him down to kiss you, but pull back before you can touch him. 

This isn’t what he wants. Your hands clench on the pallet, feeling your core ache with need. As soon as he leaves, you can get yourself off thinking about him. 

‘Would you like me to go?’ he asks softly. 

‘I never want you to go.’

His hand rests lightly on your leg. 

You open your eyes and gaze up at him, and he’s sitting so close to you. ‘But if you stay, you’re going to see me touching myself.’ Then you smile at him, remembering your last conversation. ‘I would love for you to see that. As a friend.’

You want him to see you. You want him to participate.

He smiles and leans down to you, and runs the blade of his nose up your cheek. ‘I can’t think of anything more wonderful after a long, hard day, my dear friend.’

Halsin lays down beside you and props his head against his fist. With gentle fingers, he helps you to drag your underwear down your legs and cast them aside. As your teeth sink into your lower lip, you gently touch yourself, your eyes on his handsome face. Halsin strokes your thighs, your stomach, finds the fastenings on your clothes and loosens them. As he pulls back your bodice, revealing your breasts, he lowers his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth. 

You cry out and flex up into him. Heat is gathering within you. You suck on your lower lip and release it. ‘Please--your fingers--I need--’ you manage between pants. You can barely get the words out, but he understands. Halsin drags two fingers through your sex, making them slippery, and then sinks them inside you. 

Another loud cry from you. Gods, he feels perfect.

Halsin groans and kisses your throat, murmuring, ‘You’re so tight around me. Have you been as frustrated as I am?’ He pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, slowly at first, and then faster.

Yes you have, the godsdamned stubborn bear of man. He should have pulled you into his arms that day in the river and let you suck all the frustration from his body out through his cock. 

‘So frustrated,’ you whimper. ‘Please, that feels so good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’ 

He brushes his lips over yours. ‘I won’t stop. You’re always so beautiful, but like this, all of nature pales in comparison.’

You reach down and lay your hand over his wrist, adoring the tension and flex of his muscles in his arm as he moves inside you. Your fingers keep moving on your clit as you moan and cry out his name, and when you come you dig your nails into his flesh, and press your feet into the ground so he can fuck you even harder with his fingers.

When you fall back exhausted, Halsin sits up and spreads your thighs open, trailing his fingers over your sex and drinking in the sight of you as you catch your breath. ‘Your body is wondrous.’ He leans over and kisses you, his tongue caressing yours. ‘Will you rest well tonight?’ 

You nod, feeling drunk from his kiss and your climax. 

He smiles. ‘Then I’ll rest well too, knowing that you’re sleeping soundly. Thank you for sharing this beautiful moment with me.’

As he sits up, you notice that he’s hard inside his tight pants. Excessively hard. Huge in fact. He shouldn’t be leaving, he should be pulling off his clothes and pounding the living daylights out of you until he also gets the release he needs. 

But he’s gone before you can call him back to you. That’s not why he just blew your mind, was it? He healed you, and now he wants you to get some rest. Druid’s orders, apparently. 

You smile and roll over, and fall into a doze. 

***

The next morning, before anyone has arisen, Halsin finds you coming back from the river. You smile at him, thinking he looks so handsome in the morning light, and you expect him to keep moving past you. Instead, he stops and smiles at you, as if basking in the sight of you is all he wants right now. 

‘May I have a kiss?’ you ask hopefully. Perhaps he’s decided not to want anything for himself right now, but he still wants to make you happy. 

Without needing to be asked twice, Halsin grasps you around the waist with his large hands and walks you back against the wall, kissing you enthusiastically. ‘I can still smell you on my fingers this morning. I could smell you all night. You are a delight.’

Your lips part for his so he can kiss you even deeper. With your arms around his neck, you revel in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

‘I find you irresistible.’ Another kiss. ‘But we have much to do today.’ Another kiss. 

‘We do,’ you say, smiling as he kisses you again. 

He gazes down at you for a moment, a slight frown between his brows. ‘If you need more, know that I won’t be offended if you take another lover. Nature intends for us to roam and be free.’

You have considered that, if not someone at camp, then a handsome stranger at a tavern, but you’d only be thinking about Halsin the whole time. ‘And if I don’t want to?’

‘You must do as pleases you,’ he replies, and kisses you again.

You guess that he didn’t tell you this for idle reasons, but to let you know about his own preferences. You reach up and stroke your fingers through his russet hair. ‘I have always wanted my own person, but to roam with them. Share everything with them. I would miss you too much if I was to roam without you.’

He smiles down at you. ‘Us, with others? I would like that, in time. You’re more than enough for me, but I wouldn’t wish for you to be denied anything. Seeing you with another lover, and participating as well...it sounds wonderful.’ Then he steps away from you. ‘But we are getting ahead of ourselves. My thoughts turn to other things for now. But they will turn back to you.’

With a final warm squeeze of your hand, he leaves you, but your heart is lighter than it’s been in a long time. 

***

Two nights later, you’re awoken by snarling and roaring in the distance, and you sit bolt upright. It sounds like two large animals are fighting in the woods. 

Only Astarion is awake. ‘What a ridiculous racket,’ he mutters with a scowl, before licking his thumb and turning the page of the book he’s reading. 

You look over at Halsin’s pallet, knowing it’s going to be empty before you lay eyes on it, but your stomach drops just the same when you see that it is. You scramble to your feet and set off at a run into the darkness. 

You follow the roaring and snarling and it doesn’t take long to find two bears fighting with teeth bared and swipes of their claws. You recognise Halsin from the scars over his eye.

What can you do to help him? A spell? A cantrip?  

Before you can decide, Halsin swipes the other bear so hard across the snout that it reels back, and then turns and runs away into the woods. 

Halsin paces up and down for a moment, and then golden light ripples, nearly blinding you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s striding toward you. His chest is heaving and blood is pouring from scratches and bites across his shoulders and throat. Nothing life threatening, but he’d be in pain if he wasn’t so angry.

‘That bear was looking for a mate, and I wasn’t having it prowling around her when I haven’t even tasted her myself.’

Halsin when he’s feeling himself wouldn’t say something so uncharacteristically possessive. It must be the mating season instincts overriding his natural feelings. ‘That bear wouldn’t have been interested in me.’ Also, you could have tasted me by now if you’d wanted to.

He doesn’t seem to have heard you as he glares into the darkness. Suddenly, he rounds on you. ‘It’s dangerous out here. You shouldn’t have come. Go back to bed.’

You fold your arms and stay where you are. The big alpha bear can throw his weight around, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to jump to obey his commands. ‘Shouldn’t have come? Would you have ignored me if I was being attacked in the woods?’

Halsin takes a deep breath and some of the anger melts from his face. He pushes his hands through his hair and shakes his head. ‘Of course not, I would never abandon you like that. Thank you for coming out here to help me. I promise I’m not ungrateful. I’m all out of sorts because...’ He gestures vaguely at himself and the woods around you both. 

You smile at him. ‘I know. It’s mating season.’

You help him pick dirt and gravel out of his cuts before he casts healing magic on himself, but you’re not ready to leave him and go to bed. The river is close by and you take his hand and lead him to the water. 

‘Let’s wash the blood and dirt off you.’

At the riverbank, hesitantly you reach for his clothes. He says nothing but he’s watching you with such intensity, and so you find the fastenings and help him out of them. With gentle fingers, he does the same for you. The night air is warm and still. Crickets are chirping and the river makes gentle rushing noises. The two of you are standing so close that you’re breathing each other’s breaths. His massive chest lifts and falls. Your nipples tighten with awareness of him. You don’t want to stare but you can’t help but look at this beautiful man as you undress him. 

Halsin helps you out of your underwear, and his cock bumps against your thigh. He’s so hard that he’s standing to attention, his foreskin drawn back, a drop of pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters, and you want to run your tongue along the thick vein that stands out on his shaft.

‘Sorry. Ignore me,’ he mutters. 

You don’t want to ignore the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen, but you keep your hands to yourself and look up at him. ‘I want to feel flattered. Should I feel flattered?’

‘You know I think you’re wonderful,’ he breathes, caressing your face. 

Oh, by all the gods, then fuck me, please. 

‘Would you want me even if it wasn’t mating season?’

‘Of course I would, though I’d probably be better at keeping that to myself. You wouldn’t awaken to hear me fighting other bears in the woods, or see me staring at you with longing across the campfire. I’d still feel the same way, but I wouldn’t be so obvious about it. Probably.’

‘Do you mind that mating season makes you feel and act this way?’

He smiles and shakes his head. ‘It is who I am, and another connection I have to nature.’

‘Halsin. For a wildshape druid who believes in going with what’s natural, you’re very stubborn about resisting what your body is telling you it wants.’

A smile curves his lips. ‘You may be right. I’ve told myself that focusing on the Shadow Curse is the right and only thing to do, but...’

Halsin ducks his head and slants his mouth over yours. The kiss is so fierce and sudden, and pleasure takes a swan dive through your body. He wraps his arms around you and gathers you to him.

‘This isn’t how I imagined things between us,’ he murmurs. ‘I intended to come to you after the curse is lifted and declare my feelings for you, and tell you that my unburdened heart is yours.’ 

‘Please still do that,’ you breathe, planting soft kisses again and again on his mouth. ‘I would love that. But don’t walk away from me now.’ 

‘You want me, even though my mind is often on things other than you?’

What a romantic Halsin is, wanting to give you his whole heart at once, or nothing at all. ‘Of course I do,’ you tell him, your fingers stroking his bare back. You don’t need that declaration yet. You just need him. 

Halsin lifts you in his arms and carries you into the water, gazing into your eyes. The water flows around your bodies as he kisses you and places you on your feet.

He nods at something over your shoulder. ‘I have to taste you. Turn around and put your hands on that rock.’

You do as he asks, standing thighs-deep in the water and bent over with your hands braced against the river bank. Halsin kneels down in the water and cups your ass. 

‘So beautiful...’ You feel his tongue run up your sex, and you moan and close your eyes. He’s slow and languorous about it. Not trying to make you come, just tasting you thoroughly and enjoying the sensation of you against his tongue. 

Halsin stands up and when you glance over your shoulder you see him gazing at your sex as he strokes you with his fingers and fists his cock slowly up and down. 

‘Can I have you, sweet one?’ he asks huskily. 

‘Please, gods, yes .’ You’ll go crazy if he holds back a moment longer.

You feel him step closer, and the blunt head of his cock slides against your slippery entrance. He feels alarmingly thick and you take a deep breath and try to relax. 

With a muttered oath, he sinks into you. As much of him as he can, anyway. Gods, he’s a lot . You walk your feet apart, trying to accommodate more of him. 

‘Too much?’ he asks, hesitating. 

You shake your head desperately. ‘Not too much. More, please.’

He fucks you slowly, working himself deeper by delicious increments, while your cries fill the night air along with his ragged breathing. His blunt nails scratch your flesh. He roughly squeezes handfuls of your ass. 

You reach down between your legs and touch yourself, and you grow wetter and wetter, allowing him to fuck you in long, smooth strokes. Every single one makes your insides light up. Your orgasm is barrelling down on you surprisingly fast. 

‘Please, fuck me hard, I’m going to come,’ you beg him. 

Halsin groans and takes your hips in a secure grip and slams into you, over and over, hard, brutal and heavenly thrusts. You push against the rock to hold you steady as a wild, untamable sensation crashes over you, and you cry out loud enough for the whole forest to hear you. 

Your head is hanging low and you’re panting as you feel Halsin draw out of you.

‘But you haven’t come,’ you protest, straightening up and turning around. It’s what you want, to see and feel this beautiful man let go. 

He takes your hand and helps you out of the river. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’

He lays back on the grass and pulls you astride him so your thighs are straddling him. ‘I want to see you like this as well.’

Hungry for more, you grasp his cock and sink down his length. Halsin groans and his head tips back, and he squeezes both your breasts in his large hands. His throat is so beautiful, and so is his chest. You draw patterns in his chest hair as you move up and down his length. 

Weeks of frustration and wanting him haven’t been fulfilled by one climax, and soon you feel another one gathering within you. He watches you with a smile as you desperately moan and pant his name. As your cries reach a crescendo, Halsin plants his feet securely against the ground and pushes sharply up into you, over and over, making you shatter around him even harder than before.

You collapse forward on his chest, weakened and helpless, his cock still lodged deep inside you. 

‘That was wonderful,’ you moan, your cheek plastered against his chest. ‘Give me a moment and we can change positions. I’m not stopping until you come.’

He rubs circles on your back. ‘I think I might shift into wildshape if we keep going. I can feel the need getting stronger and stronger.’ 

‘I don’t mind. Your bear form is pretty sexy.’

He laughs softly, a surprised sound. ‘Really? I’m pleased you think so.’

Even sexier is the way he looks while he’s changing, his body even bulkier and hair sprouting everywhere. ‘Can you change part ways?’

His hand stops moving on your back as he considers this. ‘I can. I think it might be easier for me to maintain that, rather than one or the other.’

Halsin rolls you both over until you’re on your back in the grass and pinned beneath him. With a heavy hand on your inner thigh, he pushes your knees up to your chest and thrusts deeper, and then again. 

‘By Silvanus, you feel wonderful,’ he pants.

A ripple goes through his body. His eyes turn fiercely golden. The hair thickens across his chest and spreads over his shoulders and down his arms. His top lip pulls back from his teeth, revealing thick incisors. His cock swells to what feels like twice its size inside you. You gaze at him in wonder. He looks incredible like this. 

As he continues to pump his cock into you, you press your hands against his muscular, hairy stomach, struggling to accommodate all of him. 

‘I’m hurting you,’ he realises, his voice more growl than words. ‘I can change back.’

‘No, don’t stop. Just slow down for a moment. It’s a good problem to have.’ You reach down to the place where you’re joined and wrap your fingers around his slippery thickness. Gods, that’s wonderful. So is his bulk looming over you and the rich, animal scent of his body. He thrusts carefully, watching you closely, his golden gaze roaming over you. 

‘So beautiful, sweet one,’ he rumbles. ‘Are you sure you like me like this?’

‘Yes, oh gods, yes.’

With every thrust, it’s getting easier for him to slide his whole length deep inside you, and pleasure stabs through you every time he bottoms out. 

You reach up and cup his furred cheek. ‘I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even sexier like this. How does it feel for you?’

He groans and seems to take courage from your words. ‘Like I’m finally free. No longer fighting what I crave.’ The speed of his thrusts pick up, and he devours you hungrily. ‘You’re so good to me.’  

His breathing becomes a throaty snarl. His claws dig lovingly into your thigh. His hips move in a relentless rhythm, long thrusts, and then shorter, urgent ones, and you can tell he’s nearing his peak. You hold onto his shoulders for dear life as his body stiffens and his climax breaks through him, and he throws his head back.

With a groan, he sinks down onto his elbow and buries his face in your throat. As you hold him tight, you feel him shift back to his human form, his skin smooth and damp with perspiration. 

Halsin lifts his head and kisses you. ‘I’ve never done anything like that before. Was it all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

You hasten to assure him that he didn’t and it was everything you wanted.

He smiles. ‘How wonderful you are.’

You stroke his sweaty hair back. Neither have I. You’re so beautiful always, and especially seeing you like that, through wildshape eyes.’

He rolls onto his side in the grass and wraps both his arms around you, keeping you tight against his chest. ‘I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. The world feels so much better now I have you in my arms.’

‘How long does mating season last?’ you ask. You hope it’s a long time, and he needs you often. 

He laughs, a deep sound reverberating through his chest. ‘It’s every moment I lay eyes on you, sweet one.’

‘I hope that I haven’t distracted you from your duties.’

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m more motivated than ever.’

You lay like that together in the grass until Halsin feels your cooling body shiver. 

He helps you to your feet and draws you into his arms for one last, tender kiss. Cradling your face in his hands, he murmurs, ‘You are the person I admire most in the world. I feel honoured by every moment I spend by your side.’ He kisses you again. ‘Know that I can’t wait until I’m able to tell you that my whole heart is yours.’

Thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Or tell me how the Halsin brainrot is affecting you while playing BG3. I have just about no braincells left by now. Only Daddy Bear remains. 

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

Me finishing up a long talk about labor politics and how airport 🛩️ workers should strike next -> logging on to girlblog about my favorite jet setting pop star Taylor Swift ✨🦄🎆💖⚡️ because having a fandom tumblr account or not isn’t actually praxis 🌹💪🏻👩‍🌾

[tinyfandomknight]

Out of Character | Snotlout Jorgenson

Pairing: Snotlout Jorgenson x Reader Summary: Snotlout's not used to mushy feelings -- but you, his most unlikely match, drown him in them. Themes & Warnings: Snoutlout is his own warning, yearning, Jealous!Snotlout, fluff!

Since you were a baby, you'd made your father proud.

You were just a tiny little one, left on the doorstep of Gobber’s blacksmithing shop. Wrapped in a bear pelt, silently staring up at him with big, curious e/c eyes -- like you were daring the world to challenge you even then. Gobber, surprisingly gentle with babies despite the rough edges and missing limbs, had scooped you up with a gruff laugh and decided on the spot: you were his. No questions asked.

You grew up with soot-streaked cheeks, calloused palms, and the clang of hammers as your lullaby. Gobber taught you everything he knew: how to mold metal, fix a saddle, and keep your heart soft even when your hands were strong. He raised you like a Viking, but he let you be kind. And when you showed your worth in dragon training, no one dared question how a blacksmith’s foundling could outmatch half the village.

When you reached the age of fifteen, you started dragon training. You were surprisingly different from your father at that time -- clean, organized, and deadly.

Where Gobber was chaotic, you were calm. Where he bellowed, you spoke with measured words. You didn’t need to shout to be heard, your actions did the talking. In the training ring, you moved like you’d been born to it: precise, quiet, efficient. You didn’t rely on brute strength. You thought before you struck. And when you did strike, it landed.

By the time the first week of training had ended, you’d already impressed Hiccup and irritated Snotlout beyond reason.

“Who even are you?” he barked one day, panting, sweaty, and scowling as he watched you perfectly disarm a Gronckle in under ten seconds.

“Just someone who sharpens her weapons before training,” you said lightly, not even sparing him a full glance.

He scoffed. “Must be nice having a blacksmith for a dad.”

That got your attention. You turned, eyes narrowed, not angry, just sharp. Controlled.

“It is nice,” you said, voice even. “You should try appreciating your father sometime.”

Snotlout went red at that, clearly not expecting a comeback so calm, so devastating. It wasn’t that you were cruel. You just didn’t entertain nonsense. And that confused him more than anything.

Because Snotlout Jorgenson could handle yelling. He could handle sarcasm, challenges, even dragons breathing down his neck.

But you? You were terrifying in a whole new way.

You didn’t chase attention. You didn’t puff your chest. You didn’t care if people were impressed by you. You were so unlike him -- so unlike anyone he’d ever bothered to pay attention to.

As time passed, you got closer with Hiccup.

He became your best friend. You lead him through the training, sparing him the biting remarks from the other students, and you often hung out outside of training too.

But when he discovered that dragons weren't all bad through his secret pet, you'd called him crazy for a moment. Until you met Toothless.

Maybe it was because you trusted Hiccup. Maybe it was because you needed to see the madness to believe it. Or maybe, somewhere deep down, you were hoping he was right -- that the world was bigger and better than you'd been raised to believe.

You didn’t breathe the first time you laid eyes on Toothless.

He was curled like a sleeping cat, wide eyes tracking your every move, tail twitching with a wariness that matched your own. His scales shimmered in the dappled forest light, his wings tucked in like he was trying to make himself smaller.

And you knew, instantly, that you weren’t looking at a monster.

You were looking at a creature who had been hurt. Hunted. Hiccup’s trembling hand reached out, and Toothless leaned into the touch.

That was the moment your world shifted.

And then, everyone's did.

The day Berk learned that dragons were not their enemies was the day everything shifted. And you were there through it all, fighting beside Hiccup when the old ways collapsed, standing firm against the doubt of elders, defending the very beasts that once haunted your village's nightmares.

Years passed. The war was over. Dragons flew free, and the people of Berk had adapted.

You had, too.

Now, you soared through the sky like you’d been born with wings. A blur of grace and steel, high above the forest, your dragon Blight roaring beneath you. He was a Timberjack -- wild and razor-edged, with wings like blades and a voice that could split the sky. You’d named him after the illness that stripped bark and rot from trees -- not because he was a disease, but because he left nothing untouched in his path.

Much like you.

It was peaceful work, harvesting timber from the outskirts of the woods per Gobber’s request. He needed handles for axes, staves for spears, and who better to do the dangerous tree-cutting than the girl who practically danced with danger?

And so many years later, you still pissed Snotlout off.

Not in the usual way people irritated him with whining or bragging or breathing too loud.

No, you pissed him off in the way that made his jaw tighten and his thoughts get scrambled. In the way that had him flying out to the edge of the woods like he had any reason to be there, just so he could catch a glimpse of you slicing through the sky like you owned the air.

And of course, you did.

You always looked so damn effortless.

No matter how effortlessly you flew through the air, your hair always stayed in its neat, intricate braid. You were usually covered in soot and grease, but your nails were always clean and when you washed it off, your face remained clear with a few scars from your old dragon training days. You weren't ever loud or boisterous like he was, but you somehow commanded the world's attention anyways.

He hated it. Or he tried to convince himself he did.

You weren’t dainty. You weren’t trying to be anyone’s fantasy.

And maybe that’s why you were his.

Because Snotlout had spent his whole life being loud. Flashy. Always trying to prove something -- to his father, to the village, to himself. He'd carved out his place in Berk by sheer force of personality. By shouting until someone listened. By throwing his weight around and demanding attention.

You never had to do any of that. You just were.

Quiet, competent, calm and maddeningly brilliant at everything. You were the kind of person who walked into a room and made people shut up. The kind of girl who could spar, forge, command a dragon, and still roll her eyes when Snotlout flexed.

And Thor help him, he wanted you to look.

Not the way you looked at Hiccup, or Fishlegs, or even Gobber -- with patience and friendship and understanding.

He wanted the look you gave Blight when you were proud of him. When he did something right and you whispered something soft under your breath that made the dragon puff up with pride.

He wanted that.

He wanted you to see him, really see him, not the idiot who cracked jokes or puffed his chest or ran his mouth. But the part he rarely showed anyone: the one who tried hard, who felt too much, who just wanted to matter.

And worst of all?

He knew you already did see that part of him in glimpses. Quick flashes. Like the time you caught him gently wrapping a wing splint on a hatchling. Or when you stood beside him during a dragon attack without needing to say a word. Or when you casually handed him a perfectly sharpened axe after he’d been struggling to fix his own for hours.

You never rubbed it in. Never made him feel smaller. But you didn’t coddle him either.

You just existed. In his world. On the edges of his thoughts, in the pit of his chest, and deep in the marrow of every stupid decision he made to try and impress you.

And now here he was again, standing in a forest you’d already claimed as your own, watching you steer Blight into another flawless landing, wind sweeping your braid over your shoulder, soot trailing along your cheekbone like a badge.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, before he could stop himself.

Hookfang grunted beside him in agreement.

Snotlout blinked. “Shut up.”

The dragon made another soft grunting sound, like he was laughing at Snotlout, or maybe judging him, and nudged him gently with his huge snout.

“Seriously?” Snotlout hissed, swatting uselessly at his dragon like he could bat away the truth. “I didn’t mean it like that. It was a -- it was a reflex. A stupid one. Just… shut up, alright?”

Hookfang blinked at him slowly, unamused. Another low rumble vibrated from his chest, as if to say, You keep lying to yourself, bud. I’ve got time.

Snotlout crossed his arms, turning back to the clearing, jaw clenched. But you were already off Blight’s saddle, tying him off to a tree with practiced ease. Your dragon flicked his bladed wings once, letting out a huff before settling down -- completely relaxed, because you were. Snotlout felt a tug in his gut watching the bond, that unspoken trust between you and the beast.

You were humming. Barely. Just under your breath.

He hated that he noticed that, too.

And then, as if the gods weren’t already cruel enough, you turned. Locked eyes with him across the space like you knew he’d been staring. You didn’t smile. Not at first. You just watched him, quiet, composed, unreadable as ever, and Snotlout’s brain completely short-circuited.

You tilted your head slightly. “You here for a reason, or are you just stalking me again?”

Again. That word knocked the breath out of him.

“Pfft, no,” he said too quickly, voice cracking halfway. “I-- patrol. This is, you know… enemy territory.”

You raised a brow. “The Berkian forest?”

���Could’ve been raiders.”

“Could’ve been trees, which you nearly walked into because you were staring so hard.”

Snotlout flushed scarlet. Hookfang snorted.

You started walking toward him, braid swinging against your back, fingers brushing soot off your tunic like you had all the time in the world. Every step you took made his stomach twist tighter.

“I’ve seen you flying out here more than usual,” you said. “Following me.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Your voice lowered a fraction, softer now. “Why?”

Because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Because your laugh haunted his sleep. Because you weren’t scared of him, not the puffed-up version, not the insecure one underneath. Because when you looked at him like this, calm and curious and just a little too close, he forgot how to breathe.

But all he said was: “Dunno.”

You gave him a look that felt like it could cut through armor.

Then, softly, teasing, “Want to help me bring the wood back for my dad? I'm not gonna make Blight do it. He's tired today and he always does it.”

Blight purred beside you, lifting his head to you. You cooed, scratching his scales gently.

“I know, Blighty boy. This is your break.”

You scratched gently along the sensitive part of his jaw, and Blight let out a huff of air, satisfied, curling his bladed wings in a relaxed posture. It was a kind of tenderness Snotlout didn’t think you ever let anyone else see. Not Hiccup. Not the other riders. Maybe Gobber, if he was lucky.

And suddenly, Snotlout felt kind of honored. And kind of jealous.

He cleared his throat, voice jumping slightly. “You name a dragon Blight, and then baby-talk him like he’s a newborn sheep. That doesn’t mess with his ego or anything?”

You glanced over your shoulder, unbothered. “He can slice through a tree in one flap. I think his ego can survive a little affection.”

He cleared his throat. “Anyways, carrying wood with you? Alone?”

Your smile turned dangerous. “Unless you’re scared of a little work. Too heavy for you?”

“Me?” he scoffed, straightening his back like you’d just challenged his honor. “Never.”

“Good,” you said, already turning your back to him. “Then grab the straps. The load’s heavier than it looks.”

You didn’t wait for him, didn’t watch to see if he struggled because of course you knew he’d follow. You always knew. And gods, it made him want to scream. Or kiss you. Or maybe both.

He hurried after you, grumbling under his breath about stupid trees and stupid dragons and stupid girls with perfect braids and sharp tongues.

Hookfang stayed behind, lying down next to Blight like they’d already formed some dragon bro pact of mockery. Snotlout glanced back at them, narrowing his eyes.

"Traitors."

You were already hauling two large bundles of freshly cut wood toward your makeshift loading sled. Blight had stacked the timber cleanly in rows with his wings, and you moved like someone who’d done this a hundred times -- smooth, efficient, no-nonsense.

“Thought this was supposed to be the part where we bond,” Snotlout muttered as he picked up the harnessed end of the sled and gave a grunt.

You threw him a dry look over your shoulder. “This is bonding. You want me to hold your hand too?”

He nearly choked on air. “I mean-- I wouldn’t hate that.”

You rolled your eyes, but a faint smile tugged at your mouth.

And that was all the encouragement he needed to keep talking.

“You know,” he started, dragging the sled effortlessly, “most people flirt with me. Like, a lot. All the time, actually. It’s kind of exhausting.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Poor thing.”

“I mean, not that I blame them. I’m pretty great. Brave. Muscular. The best dragon rider Berk’s ever seen--”

“The modesty’s what really gets me,” you cut in.

He narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, then smirked. “So you have been paying attention.”

You paused, adjusting the straps around your shoulders, and glanced at him, really looked at him, a strange expression in your eyes. Something unreadable. Something soft, almost.

“Of course I’ve been paying attention,” you said simply. “You're just too loud to sneak past unnoticed.”

His breath caught, not because of your words, but because of how you said them. Casual. Easy. Like it was just a fact. Like he was a fact. Something permanent in your life.

And for a second, he forgot how to breathe again.

Then you turned back around and kept walking.

“Coming, oh great dragon-riding muscle god?”

He snapped out of it with a sputter. “I-- yeah. Obviously.”

As the two of you disappeared into the trees, the sound of wood dragging behind and the rustle of branches above, Snotlout let the quiet stretch for once. Just for a moment. The breeze shifted, and he caught a whiff of smoke and pine and something that was just you.

And it hit him, terrifying and thrilling all at once.

He was in love with you.

And he was so screwed.

He was used to little crushes. In fact, he used to stare at any girl that walked by. He'd had a huge crush on Astrid back in the day, Ruffnut somehow too, but now? No one else was even worth a glance to him, no matter how infuriating you were.

But it wasn't the same for you. You didn't only look at him. And that bothered him.

Now, you sat in the Great Hall next to Hiccup, laughing at something he’d said, face lit up by the torchlight and framed by your freshly unbraided hair. It tumbled over your shoulder in soft waves, streaked faintly with soot still, but he’d never seen anything more unfair in his entire life. How could someone look like a warrior, a blacksmith’s daughter, a dragon-riding menace and a goddess all at once?

It should’ve been illegal.

Snotlout sat across the hall, glaring into his mug like it had personally offended him. Ruffnut and Tuffnut were arguing over something stupid beside him, goat racing, probably, Astrid sat reading quietly, and Fishlegs was rambling to someone who wasn’t listening, but Snotlout didn’t hear a word.

Because Hiccup leaned closer to you, and you leaned back in that easy, relaxed way you only ever gave to a few people. He watched you nudge him playfully with your elbow, and something snapped.

He slammed his mug down. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Hookfang, curled up near the back wall, cracked open one eye.

Tuffnut leaned over. “Who? Fishlegs?”

“No, Hiccup,” Snotlout hissed.

Tuffnut raised a brow. “Dude, he’s been your cousin since birth.”

“That just means it’ll be easier to explain to the elders,” he muttered.

Because Hiccup got that laugh from you. That rare, nose-crinkling laugh that made your whole face glow. The one Snotlout ached to be the cause of. And maybe he was being dramatic. Okay, he was being dramatic. But how could he not be?

He didn’t do soft feelings. Didn’t know how to be soft without tripping over himself. And you, you were gentle in a way that wasn’t weakness. You were quiet power. Calm confidence. And Snotlout? He was loud chaos. Fire and ego and swinging too hard in every direction. You shouldn’t fit. But gods, he wanted to try.

The hall grew louder as dinner was served. Mead spilled. Fishlegs accidentally got a turkey leg launched at his head. Gobber bellowed a laugh from the far end of the table.

And all Snotlout could think about was how your shoulder touched Hiccup’s for a second too long.

He stood abruptly.

Ruffnut blinked. “Where’re you going?”

“To do something stupid,” he grumbled, already moving.

You looked up as he approached, brow raised in mild surprise. Hiccup glanced up too, smiling in greeting but Snotlout wasn't in the mood for being cordial.

“You,” he said, stabbing a finger at Hiccup. “Come outside.”

Hiccup blinked, brows shooting up in surprise. “Uh... hi to you too?”

You didn’t say anything at first, but you did give Snotlout a look. Calm. Curious. Barely amused. Like you already knew exactly what this was about.

Snotlout didn’t even look at you. Couldn’t. If he did, he might do something dumb like say what he meant. And Thor knew he wasn’t ready for that kind of stupidity.

Hiccup, ever the peacemaker, held up his hands. “Look, if this is about the new tail design for Hookfang, I told Fishlegs I’d--”

“It’s not about Hookfang,” Snotlout bit out, jerking his head toward the doors. “It’s about something else.”

Your brow arched a little higher, but you stayed quiet, lips twitching just slightly.

Hiccup hesitated. “You want to… talk about--”

“Yes,” Snotlout snapped, already regretting this entire interaction. “Outside. Now. Before I say something really stupid in front of her.”

That caught your attention. You tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued now, watching with interest as Hiccup stood awkwardly, glancing between the two of you.

“I’ll… be right back,” he said slowly, still trying to make sense of it all, and followed Snotlout out into the cool evening air.

The moment the door shut behind them, Snotlout spun around, jabbing a finger at Hiccup’s chest.

“Back off.”

Hiccup blinked. “Back off what?”

“You know what,” Snotlout hissed. “Her. You sit next to her. You smile at her. You look at her like you’ve got some shared secret, and I don’t like it.”

There was a long pause.

Then Hiccup said, “You dragged me out here to tell me to stop being friends with someone I’ve known for years?”

Snotlout scowled. “No! Yes. Maybe. I don’t know, alright? I’m not good at this... feelings thing. But I’m good at spotting competition, and if you are even thinking about--”

“I’m not,” Hiccup said, firmly but gently. “She’s my friend. That’s it.”

Snotlout stared at him, suspicious. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Hiccup repeated, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Though, if you’re serious about her, maybe you should tell her all this. Instead of threatening me like a territorial yak.”

Snotlout grimaced. “I don’t know how.”

“Well,” Hiccup said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, “start by not stabbing your friends with your finger in public. Then maybe try talking to her like she’s not gonna gut you.”

“She might gut me.”

“Only if you deserve it.”

Snotlout sighed heavily, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “I hate this. I hate her. I mean I don’t. I mean I do. Ugh, you know what I mean.”

Hiccup nodded, half-laughing now. “Yeah, I really do.”

Inside, you sat still, watching the door with a knowing expression. Because if there was one thing you’d always known about Snotlout Jorgenson -- it was that he felt everything loud. And when he finally figured out why he felt it?

He was screwed. Royally.

The sun had dipped low by the time he found you again, casting the village in warm, golden light that made everything feel softer. Less threatening. Even the usual chaos of dragon wings overhead seemed quieter, like the whole world had taken a breath and was holding it just for this moment.

You were sitting near the edge of the cove, where the grass met the rocky path down to the water. Your dragon was curled nearby, dozing peacefully, and you were picking at a wildflower with idle fingers, lost in thought.

Snotlout stopped a few paces back. Just... watched you.

He hated how you made him feel like this. Like his chest was too full. Like words piled up in his throat, and none of them were good enough for you. You could throw axes better than anyone he knew. You didn’t take his crap. And sometimes, like now, when you were quiet and still and not yelling at him or teasing him—he found it hard to breathe.

He cleared his throat.

You didn’t jump. Just turned your head slowly, eyes lifting to meet his. Calm. A little curious.

“I’m not here to say something stupid,” he said quickly. Then paused. “I mean, probably. But I’m trying not to.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

“Hey,” he huffed, then stuffed his hands in his pockets, pacing forward until he stood a few feet from you. “Look. Earlier… with Hiccup… I wasn’t mad at him. Not really.”

“I know,” you said simply, setting the flower down beside you. “You were mad at yourself.”

That made him blink. “How’d you…?”

You shrugged, like it wasn’t worth explaining. “Because you never know what to do when you’re not punching something.”

“…Yeah. That’s fair.” He blew out a breath, then dropped down to sit beside you, not too close, but not far either. “I listened to him. Like he said I should.”

You tilted your head. “And?”

“And he told me to talk to you. Like I’m not an idiot.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “He thinks highly of you.”

“He’s delusional.” He glanced sideways at you, jaw tight. “But he’s right about one thing. I gotta stop acting like an axe-headed moron and just say it.”

You looked at him. Waiting. Patient. Like you knew how much effort this cost him.

“I like you,” Snotlout said quietly. “Not in the weird 'Snotlout way' people joke about. Not because I think you look good in armor, though you do, obviously. But like… when you’re not around, everything feels loud. And when you are around, it’s worse, but it’s a better kind of loud. And I think about you. All the time. Even when I don’t want to. Even when you’re yelling at me. Especially then.”

You stared at him, quiet for a beat.

Then, softly, you asked, “So… what do you want?”

He hesitated. Then turned to you fully.

“I want a chance. I want to try. I want you to know I’m serious. And if you’re gonna gut me for this, fine. Just make it fast.”

You let out a soft laugh, surprised, warm, a little breathless. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. “But I’m your idiot. If you want me.”

There was a long pause before you reached out, tugging the edge of his sleeve, your fingers brushing his wrist.

“I always did,” you said.

Snotlout blinked. Then grinned. A little wild. A little awed. “Really?”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Don’t make me say it again, Jorgenson.”

He didn’t. He just reached for your hand like it was the most natural thing in the world -- and when you let him hold it, everything in him quieted.

For once.

And he thought maybe this was what Hiccup meant.

Your fingers were still tangled with his, the silence between you stretching -- but this time, it wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t tense or confused. It was warm. Easy. The kind of quiet that hummed with something new and good and just beginning.

Snotlout stared down at your hands for a moment, as if grounding himself, then looked up at you again. His grin had faded into something softer now -- still him, still smug in a way only he could manage -- but gentler at the edges. A little unsure, a little hopeful.

“Can I--?” he asked, voice low, almost husky. “I mean, should I--?”

You didn’t let him finish.

You leaned in first.

It was simple, the kiss. No dramatic sweep of arms, no crash of firelight or clatter of armor. Just the soft brush of your lips over his. A hesitant meeting. A testing of new ground. He froze for a half-second, like his brain had short-circuited -- and then he kissed you back, just as gently.

His hand came up to cradle your cheek, rough palm warm against your skin, surprisingly tender. He didn’t rush it. Didn’t deepen it. Just held it there, like a moment he didn’t want to break.

When you finally pulled back, your noses were nearly touching, his breath fanning against your skin.

“Wow,” he whispered. “So… this is happening?”

You smiled, eyes shining. “Looks like it.”

After that, it was easy.

Snotlout was still Snotlout -- loud, smug, obnoxiously confident -- but softer. Around you, he eased the weight you carried, always finding ways to protect you, to cherish you. He’d sharpen your blades without being asked. He’d scowl at you if you skipped meals. He still bragged, but now it was about how lucky he was.

And yes, he was still a little territorial. Still kind of an idiot. But now he was your idiot.

Which is how you found yourself sitting beside him in the Great Hall a few nights later, sharing stew and laughter while the rest of the gang shouted over each other across the long table. You were tucked under his arm, his hand playing idly with your braid like he couldn’t help himself.

That’s when Tuffnut plopped down across from you, a wicked grin on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Berk’s most terrifying blacksmith angel,” he said, giving you a dramatic wink. “Tell me -- are you into slightly unhinged men with questionable hygiene and a flair for goat impressions?”

You snorted into your cup. “Can’t say I’ve considered it.”

“Consider it now,” he said, leaning forward, eyes gleaming. “I’ve got charm. Mystery. Probably lice.”

Snotlout, who had been too busy shoveling food into his mouth to notice at first, finally looked up -- a spoon still hanging out of his mouth.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you flirting with my girlfriend?”

Tuffnut blinked. “Depends. Is she gonna kill me, or are you?”

“Me,” Snotlout said cheerfully, dropping his spoon and grinning like a dragon who’d just spotted a sheep.

He stood, grabbed Tuffnut by the back of the collar, and bodily hoisted him from his seat like he weighed nothing.

“Say it louder for the folks in the back,” he called to the hall. “My girlfriend. This one’s mine. The smart, terrifying, annoyingly perfect one? Yeah, mine.”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands.

Tuffnut flailed in his grasp. “Alright, alright, you ox! Put me down! I was testing her loyalty! Science!”

Snotlout dropped him unceremoniously, then flopped back down next to you, smug and glowing with pride.

He slung his arm around you again. “You hear that? People are testing you. You passed, obviously. But still. You gotta be careful. With a face like yours? Trouble magnet.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move from under his arm.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered.

“And yours,” he said, pressing a quick, loud kiss to your temple. “Totally, undeniably, unreasonably yours.”

Across the table, Tuffnut rubbed his neck with a groan. “Next time I flirt with someone, it’s gonna be Astrid. At least Hiccup doesn't brag after he brutalizes.”

“Still gonna lose,” Snotlout called, stuffing more stew in his mouth. “But hey -- shoot for the stars, bud.”

[samsblades]

SUPERNATURAL M.LIST all works are gender neutral, reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated !! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!! all nsfw fics are clearly labeled MDNI, this applies to ageless blogs. p for platonic! f for fluff, a for angst, h/c for hurt/comfort, s for smut, su for suggestive!

SAM WINCHESTER

DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ something about being close | 9.5K, a, f ⟢ makes you wonder | 5.2K, f ↳ ⟢ part two : now you know | 6.8K, f, h/c ⟢ better than a sight for sore eyes | 1K, su, MDNI ⟢ take my breath away | 13.7K, a, f, h/c ⟢ give and take | 0.7K, f ⟢ warm brown jacket | 1.3K, f ⟢ you’d dance with me? | 1.4K, f ⟢ three seconds | 1.2K, f ⟢ literary parallels | 3.6K, a, f ⟢ this is real, it’s right | 3K, h/c ⟢ my boy only breaks his favorite toys | 10.6K, a ↳ ⟢ part two : to leave him with love | 8K, a ⟢ forget-me-nots | 5.6K, f ⟢ but daddy i love him | 11.3K, a, f ⟢ some other time |1.1K, f ⟢ just an observation | 1.3K, f ⟢ hold me, it’s enough | 1.6K, h/c ⟢ breathe, baby | 4.1K, s, f, MDNI ⟢ only got eyes for you | 2.7K, f ⟢ dead eyes | 2.4K, h/c ⟢ abstract (psychopomp)| 1.9K, h/c, a ⟢ love you again| 2K, f, h/c ⟢ motel room, 10:00 p.m. | 545, f, h/c ⟢ book shop, 12:00 p.m.| 515, f ⟢ motel shower, 12:00 a.m. |629, h/c ⟢ cabin, 3:17 a.m.| 658, h/c ⟢ campus library, 7:00 a.m.| 658, f ⟢ the impala, 4:00 p.m.| 608, f, h/c, p ⟢ drooling honey | 1.1K, s, MDNI ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, s, MDNI, w/jess ⟢ i got you | 4.1K, s, MDNI ⟢ you can take it | [tfem!sam]. 1.3K, s, MDNI ⟢ worship you | 1.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ my hands are yours | 2.8K, h/c ⟢ sweet smile | 1.9K, f ⟢ noticed | 1.1K, h/c ⟢ soft 'n sleepy | 1.3K words, s, f, MDNI ⟢ like a miracle | 1.1K, f ⟢ laundry machines | 1.7K, f ⟢ love you like that | 783, f ⟢ the object of his affections | 1K, f ⟢ in the morning | 959, f ⟢ smirking and butterflies | 783, f ⟢ blabbermouth | 845, h/c ⟢ no one else here | 908, f ⟢ ruined (not really) | 1.4K, f ⟢ green couch | 898, f ⟢ sweet potatoes |1.2K, f ⟢ hallway hardwood floors | 676 f, su

continued ! bc theres a character limit for a block of text :( ⟢ natural | 5.3K, f, s, MDNI ⟢ liked it too | 1.9K, s, MDNI ⟢ just a little bit | 1.7K, s, MDNI ⟢ lucky charm | 1.4K, f ⟢ deep satisfaction | 1.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ just because | 8K, f, s, MDNI ⟢ spring, honey, forest, etc. | 644, f ⟢ quiet comfort | 1K, h/c ⟢ chamomile tea | 2.4K, h/c, p

HEADCANONS ⟢ random boyfriend hcs | 1.6K , f ⟢ nsfw boyfriend hcs | 1.6K, s, MDNI ⟢ pirate!au | 1.1K, f, a ⟢ with adhd!reader | 0.8K, f ⟢ with talkative!reader | 0.7K, f ⟢ fake-dating!au | 1K, f ⟢ with angel!reader | 2.4K, f ⟢ tfem!sam x tmasc!reader | 1.3K, f

FAKE TEXTS ⟢ gen z younger sibling | f, humor, p ↳ ⟢ part two | f, humor, p ⟢ librarian!reader | f ⟢ suggestive w/sunshine!reader | su, MDNI ⟢ memes from sunshine!reader | f, humor

౨ৎ

DEAN WINCHESTER DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ the language of love isn’t dead | 2.4K, f, a ⟢ flower shop, 11:00 a.m. | 644, f ⟢ gas station, 3:04 a.m. | 615, h/c, p

HEADCANONS ⟢ best friend!dean | 1K , f, p

౨ৎ

BOTH DRABBLES / ONESHOTS (all platonic) ⟢ sorry won’t cut it (rewrite) | 4.1K, a, h/c ⟢ broken, fine for tonight | 1.3K, h/c ⟢ easy, maybe | 3K, h/c ⟢ safe now | 1.4K, h/c

HEADCANONS (all separate) … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

RUBY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ abandoned church, 5:30 a.m. | 540, f ⟢ cry for me | 1.2K, s, MDNI ⟢ lick it better | 1.2K, s, MDNI ⟢ indulge | 1.2K, f ⟢ real cute | 3.5K, s, MDNI ⟢ don't mind | 597, a

HEADCANONS ⟢ girlfriend hcs | 1.3K, f

౨ৎ

CHARLIE BRADBURY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ make you feel so good | 1.K, s, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

JO HARVELLE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ so pretty | 1.7K, s, MDNI ⟢ hooked | 1.6K, s, MDNI

HEADCANONS ⟢ girlfriend hcs | 1.6K, f

౨ৎ

JESSICA MOORE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, s, MDNI, w/sam

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

ROWENA MCLEOD DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ whiskey wanting | 1K, su, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

© SAMSBLADES 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.

[mxchibomb]

content. mdni 18+

tighnari ft. sethos !! mating season

cw. breeding, mentions of knotting, emotional (sexual) support sethos

 "you can take it.. know you can. you're doing so good, habibti." sethos whispered sweetly, soft hand gliding underneath your jaw as you drooled, thumb slowly wiping the saliva off your face. behind you was a feral tighnari, who was only ever like this during heat. plap plap plap! his hips pounded relentlessly into your exhausted pussy, growling lowly. you could barely hear sethos over tighnari's babbling and your own pornographic moans.

 "more.. need more." tighnari mumbled. his teeth were bared, nose scrunched and his restracted claws dug into the fat of your hips, his own drool overflowing his mouth and dribbling down onto your back side. "need to breed.. gonna breed you."

 cum slowly seeped out of your used cunt with each rough slam, having already came inside you a couple times beforehand. white slipped onto the forest floor, mixed in with your clear slick. tighnari panted and whined from behind you, tail swishing wildly while sethos sat calmly in front of your bent over body, encouraging you with his cock in his hand.

 "i kind of like you like this.." he muttered, leaning down to meet your lips in a messy kiss. "i'm jealous of tighnari. i want a turn, too." his tongue teasingly slid against yours, swallowing whatever spit pooled in your mouth with a satisfied hum. tighnari's eyes snapped to sethos and his jaw clenched, heat driven mind incapable of controlling himself. he gave a warning growl to his close friend, pupils expanding. the darker skinned male snickered.

 "maybe next time." he smiled sweetly at tighnari, whimpering softly on your reattached lips, thumb running over his slit. you eagerly swallowed sethos's tongue, sucking on the muscle mindlessly.

 "c—cumming !" sethos's mouth caught your words, body convulsing without a second to waste. nails ripped claw marks into the dirt beneath you. a tear or two had streamed down the flushed cheeks of your fucked out face, whining loudly in overstimulation. your body was exhausted from endless orgasms, falling fully to the ground, cheek pressed against the ground. " 'ts too much !"

 the wiggling of your hips in an attempt to get away from tighnari was futile. it only deemed a challenge to the animal instincts hidden within tighnari's core. with a huff, he slammed roughly into you. your walls expanded as he pushed his knot through, slotting himself as deep as possible. white painted your walls for the hundredth time, tummy filling up with the warmth of his kin. at the same time, the thick white sperm from sethos landing on the floor in front of you went unnoticed but his loud groan hadn't. he just wanted to cum at the same time as one of you. his hips stuttered and bright green eyes stuck to your facial expression. he was just as in love with you as tighnari was. but he'd never say that to your face. he could watch you for hours.

 your throat was dry, whimpering even as it strained as tighnari slowly pulled out. only to begin again, a non-stop piston. he was still full of energy. even sethos found himself surprised.

 "just one more.. 'm sorry. need it. one more?" tighnari whined with a sudden snap back to his senses, tongue falling from his mouth as he panted. "i love you, 'm sorry."

[toxicanonymity]

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel masterlist | miniseries masterlist

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prologue), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6).

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.

-

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 

“Can I see it?” you ask. 

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 

“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”

“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it ain't how ya wanna see it.” 

“Why?" 

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 

Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  

 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.” 

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your mouth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 

"I know." 

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 

"You want a hand?"  

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 

You're quiet. 

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 

“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah," 

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs." 

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say. 

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. my joel masterlist has 🍒 on virginity loss fics. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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for fic notifications, please follow @toxicfics, subscribe to notifications, and make sure your tumblr app settings allow push notifications. ⚠️ some of my fics are pretty dark.

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[lokisgoodgirl]

Deep in the Forest [Loki x Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a short, smutty, imagine. You and Loki in a tent having feelings. Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Mild angst. (w/c 750)

Loki’s lips brush down the delicate skin of your throat; kissing slowly in time with his thrusts. You can feel your pulse inside his breath, flooding the sliver of space between you as his mouth comes to rest on your shoulder with a whisper of praise.

Quiet. You have to be quiet.

The way he moves inside you, the muted whimpers he stifles with every drag of his cock to the tip—if you could absorb a moment, wrap yourself in it forever, it would be this one.

Moments ago, his fingers burst through the thin bottom of your tent. He was willing himself not to explode, or moan so loudly the foxes would begin to howl. Either way, it amounts to the same.

They curl deep in the earth as he roots himself: his digits in soil, his cock in your cunt. The other hand plays with your breast, thumbing the nipple, and his sighs grow heavy while the humidity rises. “Darling,” he murmurs, and you comb damp straggles of hair from his face. His sapphire eyes find yours in the gloom of smothered torchlight; hooded, fogged with a desire he can never name. But you can: ‘love’—and so will he…eventually. The others are in tents dotted around yours.

Cap said, explicitly, ‘no, late night shenanigans’ while looking directly at Loki. And Loki had smiled, innocence swelling in his eyes as he pressed a palm to his chest: wounded. But he came, like he always does, because he can’t resist what you are together. He never can. “Darling,” he chokes again, as another liquid rock of his hips makes you forget your own name. Your legs tighten around him, pushing him deeper, and the torch rolls from its forgotten nest in the sleeping bag. “Shit, Loki…” you hiss, fumbling a hand towards the traitorous torch. Cap'll be all over that like nettle burn. He snorts against your hair, and in a flash, the clunky object vanishes. And with it—the sniff of light. “Hush,” he soothes, making you clench around the root of his cock. For some fucking reason his voice is even more devastating when you can’t see his face. “You wouldn’t want me to be discovered, would you? Deep inside you; deep in the forest of a strange land.” A shiver wrenches down your spine and makes your hips jolt.

Loki groans, stifled by a well-timed kiss. His tongue nudges deeper, a contented sigh rumbling in his chest as you arch into him and his palm slides under your head. Slowly, slowly, he rolls upwards, tugging your clit with his pelvis. It’s inevitable, now.

Climax sparks and begins to blossom outwards, licking between your thighs, tightening every muscle beneath your waist with pure pleasure. It’s inevitable, you think—as he pants quietly in time with your quickening breaths, as he smothers the need to spur you on with loud, filthy commands. A short whine slips between his teeth, and his back muscles tense. “Cum with me, Loki,” you whisper, and his heartbeat hammers against your chest. Long curls pool in your collarbone as his lips find yours in the darkness and Loki of Asgard groans his orgasm deep into your throat.

It’s inevitable, you think again, as your hand slides down his damp back, over the curve of his unbearably hard ass, clutching the twisted sleeping bag in a fist. The two of your are right together, and the world makes sense. He kisses the side of your nose as your silent gasps of orgasm ebb; the tip of your cheekbone, the shell of your ear. Loki's nostrils puff quietly in the humid silence. A droplet from the tent fabric drips onto your leg as you unwind from his body and he shifts to the side. He slips from inside you, seed hot on your inner thigh, and you miss him immediately: a particular kind of emptiness. You wonder if he feels it, too.   “I should go,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t want to. Resistance strings through the syllables like dew on spiderweb. You wait, just in case there’s something else he wants to add to that statement. A confession of love, perhaps. But in the pitch black, the only thing that follows is the trail of a long finger down your cheek, and a brush of his thumb over your lips. And then, his breath hitches. “I…” he starts, and then the words are eaten by the darkness in which they find themselves.

“Go,” you whisper. He leans forward, catching your lips like he’ll never leave. But he does, leaving a gap in the tent flap so you can see the stars. The tent smells of him. “I love you,” you whisper into the pillow with a smile, imagining Loki doing the same four tents over. You’ll say it soon enough. And so will he. It’s inevitable.

Tags in comments❤️x

[gojossugarcandy]

Lost, tired, hopeless, fucked, angry, terrible, gaslighted and many more emotions were felt by you as you sat on a couch. Staring at the door, and then at the huge, delusional elf, who thought he was the only person who could protect you and took on the role of a parental figure for you, was reading a book.

Its title was as absurd as this whole situation - 'How to be a good mother'

You sighed for the nth time, thinking of ways of running away from this place. This place which you accidently found out after doing a dare which your friends gave to you at a partly. This place which was covered with the very forest where you lost your way, shivering in the cold, dark night between large trees. This place where an elf, a giant, tall elf found you and took you home. This place where the savior soon became the oppressor.

To be honest, there were many chances for you to run. But what would you do after running? Silas knew this place like the back of his hand, and you? No, you din't

But then, little snores were heard? Once which you would have found cute, but not in this situation. As you slowly tilted you head towards the noise, you saw, the lovely elf taking a nap.

His head on his arm, and book on table and eyes closed.

Wait, EYES CLOSED!

You could escape!

Now, this time, you had a good chance, maybe you could find someone while he was asleep!

You let your irrational, intrusive thoughts win as you tiptoed to the gallery and jumped down. Good thing, this elf wanted cool breezes keeping the home fresh.

As you started running, you glanced at the watch on your hand. It was late, People would be having a dinner at their warm homes with their real family. Your family would be at home eating the lovely home-cooked meal with deserts send by grandma instead of cocks and tits of a delusional 126-year-old-elf.

You ran

and ran

and ran.

But then, a loud laughter was heard. It echoed through the forest which suddenly went eerily quite.

You froze for a few second before walking slowly, seeing a hut neaby.

An abandoned hut by the looks of it.

A twig snapped due to you walking on it.

Another one snapped, again due to you.

Another one snapped, but this time it wasn't you.

You froze, before bolting to the hut's door and locking it.

Or at least trying to lock it by pushing a nearby table and then sofa against it.

Then, there was silence.

But not a comfortable one.

Loud steps nearing by.

Pat

pat

pat

pat

c l i c k

The door opened but was blocked due to the obstructions in the way.

A hysterical laugh was heard, as Silas called out to you.

And then with one harsh push the door along with the table and sofa were pushed behind, forcefully.

As he stared at you intensely, he said in an alluring voice that was anything but safe

"There you are darling! Didn't I tell you shouldn't hide right before mealtime? Oh, What will I do with you?"

The girl's eyes expressed her horror but deep inside those was a small hint of defeat. A small hint of giving up.

A small hint of acceptance of fate.

______________________________________________________________

@meo-eiru(The image up there belong to her. I really admire, adore, worship, words are not enough! creators like these as they draw such good drawing with their imaginations! Like damnnnnn! and then there is me. A person who likes drawing but is a huge failure. (I swear, my human faces look like monkeys😂🤣😂🤣) Anyway, seeing the image, I had like a context for it. I don't know if this is good or not. My previous stories are trash because I, like, had not motivation to write but just wanted to. But this one fanart fired my imagination up and I just started writing.

This thing is copied form the precious post of mine. I think Silas has the second-most effect on me (Theo and Ciaran own the first place).

[lamb-teaa]

` last of his kind, or not

` C.2 - first impression failed successfully

—⁠ ` C.1 - dragons, flowers and what?

—⁠ tags: comedy/crack. romcom. Sylus x fem!reader. AU from Sylus's myth. canon divergence. obvious OOC. whipped and boy failure Sylus anyone? /hj.

—⁠ teaa's note: wasn't gonna write a continuation of this cuz I literally wrote it out on a whim but here we are lol thanks for reading!!

—⁠ and big thanks for the support!!: @crowleysthings @stxrrielle @sylusfluffymeow @sublimeinternetlady @clearlysworld @jinnmyc @mangooes @satansdaughter123 @alahamums @xxfaithlynxx @pirana10 @kyushii

The audacity.

Was the first thought that crossed Sylus's mind when the strong slap of Datura flowers hit his face.

His eyes narrowed dangerously, a deep growl rumbling in his throat as a snarl threatened its way out-

But he halted when the sight of your bewildered gaze morphed into a fierce defying glare followed by a venomous scowl as you bare your sharp fangs at him-

Oh.

Oh damn.

Sylus might've just gone crazy because his heart just did a flip-flop for a second there.

He opened his mouth, his brain wracking between introducing himself or getting off of you, which the latter should've been the first he should do obviously but he was caught off guard when you suddenly swiped him right across his face.

Your smaller yet still sharp claws graze against his skin as you raise your legs, kicking him square in the stomach, sending him stumbling backwards onto the ground in a shocked daze.

His own clawed hand slowly reached up to hold his left cheek, feeling the small trickle of blood seeping down his skin, the wound wasn't that deep but it still stunned Sylus that you did that, his eyes drifted to you in a mixture of disbelief and awe.

First you slapped him with flowers, then the next second you scratched his face.

Oh the audacity indeed.

And for the love of all misery in the world- can his heart calm down a bit?!

"Why you-"

Before Sylus could even utter another word out, you had already spread your large wings out, instantly launching yourself into the sky and flying far away from Sylus as fast as possible.

"Hey- wait!"

Sylus's eyes widened in a panic as the female dragon took flight into the air, every fibre of his being immediately screaming at him to pursue you. The thought of not seeing you again made his heart drop in dread. Now that he knew you were real, not a figment of his imagination, someone who appeared dragon-like such as himself-

He found himself wanting you.

Although, he didn't understand what he actually wanted in you.

A friend? A companion? Someone similar to him to stay by his side in this godforsaken world?

Sylus doesn't have an answer to that, but maybe you might help him find said answer.

Sylus's wings unfurled behind him as he propelled himself off the ground at a ridiculously inhumane speed. His eyes never leaving your flying form despite your best efforts in hiding amongst the thick clouds in hopes of losing his sight.

"Wait! Come back! I'm not going to hurt you!" Sylus shouted, trying to keep up with your speed, the sound of desperation crept in his voice but you didn't slow down even just a bit.

If anything, you grew even more adamant in getting as far away from him, not even giving him a chance to talk and it made Sylus more restless but even more so determined.

He was used to being feared and rejected by humans for centuries, coming to terms with his solitude life and the unfortunate fate that befall him since his birth.

Pain, it's all he ever knew and had buried deep within him.

But seeing you, a fellow dragon, running away from him was another kind of pain he never knew would hurt this much.

Because it's one thing to be rejected by humans, but it's another to be feared by his own kind that had thought to be extinct long ago.

As the chase through the skies continued on what felt like an eternity, the view of the dark dense forest came into his sight. Sylus watched in frustration as you dove deeper inside the forest, using the concentrated surrounding area to your advantage as you maneuvered across the trees at lightning speed.

His muscles ache from exertion, his breath ragged as he pushed himself to his limits, calling out to you once more, over and over and yet you still continued to ignore him.

And Sylus was losing the strands of patience he had left.

A part of him wanted to be, let's say, civil to you but he's not courteous like those noble humans and you weren't giving him any choice either.

So desperate times call for desperate measures.

Black red mist materializes between his fingertips, as it shoots out towards your direction. You didn't have time to dodge the incoming mist when it had wrapped itself around your waist and wrists before tugging you backwards, a strong force pulling you back until you collided against Sylus's broad chest.

The uncontrollable impact sent both of you tumbling down between the spikes of trees, limbs and wings tangled together. Sylus had his arms secured tightly around you, his large wings engulfing your form so you'd take less damage from the fall at the expense of his own, before both of you crashed into the dense foliage ground.

Both of you coming to a stop after rolling down the grassy steep as branches and leaves whipped on both your faces and hairs until both lay still on the ground, with you sprawled on top of him in stunned disbelief.

Time stood frozen for a moment, only labored breaths could be heard in the quiet dark forest as you slowly lifted your head to look at Sylus, your eyes widened in panic and fear.

Sensing your trepidation, his mist subconsciously tightened around your figure and so were his arms around your waist. His chest heaving with exhaustion as his bright red eyes locked with you that shone with intense desperation.

"Please." He whispered hoarsely, his tone held foreign softness in them that even surprised Sylus himself as he struggled to catch his breath from the long chase. "I mean you no harm."

"No harm?!" You hissed at him, your eyes burning with hostility as you struggled within the binding of his black red mist. "You attacked me!"

"When did I- oh." Sylus grimaced, his mind rewinding to the events back at the flower field. As much as he wanted to explain that it wasn't an attack but then he stopped himself, because yeah, getting lunged in the middle of a nowhere field while you were minding your own business did seem like one.

So the distrust was, frankly speaking, warranted.

"I.. never meant for that." His hold on you loosened a bit, his once brash confidence faltering under your scrutinizing glare, "I just.."

"Just what?!"

I thought I was hallucinating you so I wanted to make sure you were real.

Yeah, no. Even enduring longtime solitude Sylus knows that would be the worst thing to say to someone whose immediate impression of himself is a possible threat at first met.

Sylus hesitated as he lowered his hands, the black red mist slowly dissipating into thin air as it released you from his hold. He watched silently as you carefully leaned back from him, creating some space between you two, your puzzled and guarded expression etched on your face and Sylus could only hope you won't run off again, and hoping to prove to you and reassure you that he wasn't going to hurt you.

But he was caught off guard yet again when this time, you lunged forward towards him and pinned him on the ground, straddling his stomach as both your clawed hands gripped his throat that made his breath hitch in both surprise and, dare he say, strangely exciting.

"Speak your intentions!" You growled, your grip around his throat tightened, making it clear to him that you were dead serious. "Or I'll kill you!"

Well damn.

You had just threatened him and yet Sylus couldn't help but crack a small smirk at that. It was amusing, endearing even as Sylus let out a low chuckle.

What an interesting turnout of events.

"Your name.." Sylus breathed out in awe, his hand reaching up to brush a lock of hair behind your hair as he relished the sight of your adorably confused yet stunned expression.

"I want to know your name."

—⁠ teaa's extra notes: aaaand that's a wrap! idk how to continue from here on out (lie i do actually just haven't flesh it out properly am sorry) so might take a while before I pick this back up again. Multifics aren't my strongest point tbh but hopefully my upcoming short scenarios will suffice! again, thank you for reading (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)♡

[rafey-baby]

forbidden fruit 2

Once upon a time there was a princess and a hunter...

snow white!reader x hunter!rafe

c/w: mentions of violence & murder, one bed (my fav cliche ever!), slightly suggestive, also if it’s not obvious this is *loosely* based on the story of snow white, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.4k

is he warming up to her? #it’s hard to tell

series masterlist

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

“Have you ever considered a less...um, violent job?” she asks, nausea coiling in her guts at the mere thought of harming— let alone killing an innocent animal.  

The inky sky has turned into an even gloomier hue, and if it wasn’t for the luster of the moonlight illuminating their journey, they wouldn’t be able to see a thing. However, it’s still a challenge for them (her) to evade the thick roots hiding underneath the spongy moss and brittle lichen— she thinks her fingers aren’t enough to count the times Rafe has had to prevent her from toppling over onto the soil with a steadying grip on her arm.  

At this point, she can’t comprehend how he even knows where they’re going. She thinks that every rock and tree trunk they pass resembles the last but apparently, he’s using them to track the route to his cabin— something he tried to teach her about two hours ago, but gave up the moment her attention was captured by a tiny squirrel hurriedly scampering off into its hiding spot.   

“If I’m bein’ honest, I think killin’ is the only thing m’good for at this point,” he murmurs while inspecting a fallen spruce in the middle of their path. 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she argues, rounding the obstacle while he simply steps over it.   

“Tha’s cause you don’t know me. Listen, m’not…m’not a good person, I’ve done some, uh, real shitty things, alright?” he looks over to her, gemstone eyes sullen.   

She wonders if the real shitty things include other people’s blood on his hands. After all, the queen wouldn’t have asked him to end her life if he’d never done it before. A shiver creeps up her spine when a vivid image of him doing something so remorseless flashes in her mind.  

However, it’s soon replaced by him dropping the knife and sparing her life, even if it meant complicating his own.   

“I think…a bad person wouldn’t be helping me right now,” her words are honest but he doesn’t offer her a reply, merely flits his eyes over her frame with a furrow in his brow.   

They fall into a serene silence, wordlessly treading further and further into the somber forest while she keeps getting distracted by the glittering stars above them; mesmerized by the beauty of something so far away from all the cruelty on this planet.   

However, when she goes on to take her next step, the ground (or what she thought was the ground) suddenly cracks underneath her, the partly frozen lid of the pond shattering with a loud crackle— only a surprised squeal leaving her throat when she loses her footing and tumbles right into the frigid water with a splash.   

Turns out, it’s not just some small little puddle that’s partly covered by fallen leaves and branches, but a rather deep one; saturating her all the way up to her neck as she gasps for breath when the coldness surrounds her helpless limbs.  

“Shit.”   

She hears Rafe hiss before humored laughter bubbles from his chest.  

“Rafe, this is not funny,” she complains with her teeth chattering when the icy liquid soaks through the fabric of her dress in an instant.   

“M’sorry, you jus’ look like a wet kitten right now,” he shakes his head, chuckling as he extends an arm towards her— pulling her up and steadying her with a firm grip on her waist.  

“Ow,” she cries out when she leans her weight on her left foot.   

“What’s wrong?” he seems almost concerned as he scans her for any visible injuries.   

“Think I sprained my ankle, it hurts,” she frowns, reaching for his forearm for balance.   

“Of course you did, told you to be careful,” he clicks his tongue, slightly annoyed at the fact that she really is a helpless case. “Can you walk?”   

“I don’t know…” she mumbles; face crumpling up when she tries to take a step forward.   

“Right, uh, c’mere then,” he huffs out before his hands are on her waist once more and he’s lifting her into his arms like a bag of flour.   

“Oh, you don’t have to—”   

“There’s no way you’re walkin’ right now,” he scoffs as he shifts her into a better position before he’s continuing their trek. “What would you even do without me, hm?”   

“Probably freeze to death like you said,” she pouts, eyes despondent when she leans into his supportive hold.  

“Yeah.”   

“M’sorry,” she sniffles, the ache in her foot combined with him being mad at her causing her eyes to burn.  

“Shouldn’t be that long ’till we’re there, princess. Think you can manage not to cry before we get there?” 

“I don’t know…it hurts and m’cold,” she sulks, feeling miserable, even if she knows she should be grateful she’s not dead or alone in the woods right now.   

“You’re a big girl, know you can take it. You’ll feel better soon, yeah?” he attempts to provide her some sort of comfort with his limited knowledge of handling something so fragile.   

She hums out something incoherent in response, weak arms wrapping around his neck as she takes in a shaky inhale— damp skin prickling under the chilly air that’s making the leafy trees sway back and forth, reminding her of shadowy ghosts.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -   

“Uh, think there should be a dry shirt for you here somewhere…” he trails off as he goes through his closet. “This is probably a little too big but should be fine, yeah?”   

The cabin is small and secluded; the darkened walls blending in with the rest of the forest and concealing them from the outside, making her feel strangely secure. However, his taste in decor makes her rather uneasy as she tries to desperately focus on the crackling fireplace beginning to warm up her trembling limbs and not the assortment of dead animals and their fur or other body parts on display.   

“Oh, it’s perfect, thank you,” she tears her eyes from the elk antlers presented on the wall, offering him a tense smile when she takes the cottony shirt from him; the material surprisingly soft between her fingertips. 

However, before he has the chance to leave the bedroom in order to give her some privacy, she timidly speaks up again, words clumsy and hurried. “Could you— um, could you help me undress? This corset is quite impossible to take off by myself…especially now that it’s wet.”  

“Uh, right, yeah,” he clears his throat, gesturing for her to turn around before he’s pulling her closer by a grip on her hips, the wooden floorboards creaking underneath their feet making up for the sudden silence.  

She doesn’t know why the gesture feels almost intimate or why it makes her hold her breath when he begins to unfasten the strings holding the corset top together, but a strange shade of suspense colors the air around them nonetheless. 

“A tight little thing, huh?” he rasps as his fingers deftly work on the satiny ribbons— a process that feels eternal while she tries not to pay any mind to the way her heart keeps thumping louder and louder by each passing second. 

When she finally feels the silky material loosening around her middle, she has to will her erratic breathing to slow down as he unhooks the rest of the dress— the fabric forming a pearly white puddle on the floor.  

Then, he’s wordlessly slipping his shirt over her head; the sleeves far too long and the hem fitting her more like a short nightgown.  

“Thanks,” she swallows before she’s gingerly turning around, lacking the courage of looking him in the eye for any longer than a glance.       

“Right, uh, we should get some sleep. You can take the bed ’n I’ll sleep on the floor, yeah?”  

And she’s already nodding before the words register in her disconcerted brain. “Wait, no, it’s your bed. I can sleep on the floor,” she argues immediately, momentarily forgetting why she was so shy in the first place when the weight of being an inconvenience builds up on her shoulders.   

“Nah, m’not gonna let a fuckin’ princess sleep on the floor. S’fine, jus’ take the bed, I don’t want it. Need to make sure we weren’t followed anyway,” he grumbles, attempting to leave the room once more.  

“Rafe, you need sleep just as much as I do. It’s the middle of the night, my stepmother doesn’t even know what you did yet. She’s expecting you to return tomorrow, right?” she tries to reason, not willing to give in because letting him sleep comfortably is the least she can do to even begin returning the favor.  

He lets out a weary sigh before shrugging off his jacket, far too worn out to argue. “Yeah, alright, guess you have a point.”   

- - - - - - - - - - - - -   

They end up sharing the bed.    

And once they’ve both settled into the opposite sides, she’s far too intimidated by Rafe’s disgruntled aura to utter out anything other than a whispered goodnight before it’s quiet once more.    

However, as the night stretches on, she begins to grow restless; tossing and turning on the creaky mattress and driving Rafe mad in the process.

She doesn’t mean to, the last thing she wants is to disturb his rest but her thoughts are racing and she can’t seem to close her eyes for more than a few seconds because truthfully, she feels terrible— everything familiar has been turned upside down in the span of a day and the only life she knows has practically ceased to exist. All she wants is to go home but that’s not an option anymore and it’s scary. 

“Hey, uh, you good?” Rafe’s sudden drawl makes her flinch.    

“Sorry, can’t sleep,” she peeps out, expression apologetic when she twists to face him, causing the sheets to rustle around them.    

“Yeah, me neither since you keep movin’ around like a lunatic,” he grumbles, irritation clear in his tone.   

“M’sorry. Just can’t stop thinking about everything and I just…I’ve never understood why she hates me so much,” she breathes out, features contorting into something heavy-hearted as she chews on her bottom lip. 

He blinks tiredly; movements lethargic when he runs a hand through his hair.   

“The queen? Well, in case you haven’t noticed, she’s, uh, not that alright in the head. M’sure you’ve done nothin’ wrong, okay?” he attempts to reassure her, albeit to no avail.   

“I just— just feel like...this is all my fault, you know? And now you’re in danger too because of me,” she rambles, not able to let the thought go.    

“You don’t need to worry ’bout me, princess. There’s enough people that want me dead already, what’s one more?” he lets out a dry chuckle that makes her frown.    

“What do you mean?”    

“Nothin’ just, uh, listen…the worst thing that’s gonna happen is that she’s gonna have me killed when I don’t return, ’n once she finds out you’re still alive, she’s gonna send her soldiers to bring her your—”   

“Rafe, that’s not helping. Why would say that?” she interrupts him and apparently, he finds her scowling face to be the most hilarious thing in the world because next thing she knows he’s laughing, sleepy features scrunching up as he shakes his head. 

It’s safe to say she does not understand his humor, whatsoever.    

“All m’sayin’ is that we’re gonna have to find someplace good to hide.”    

“We have to leave the kingdom?” she asks, worried.    

“Yeah, think so,” he says, sounding far too impassive for her liking.    

“But I can’t just leave, this is my home.”   

“I know, but s’gonna be okay,” he murmurs, mouth stretching around a yawn.   

“But what if— what if something happens?” she sounds panicked, all the worst-case scenarios bouncing around her skull because she’s never even been this far from the palace. How on earth is she meant to survive in the real world? 

“I’ll keep you safe, yeah? Now can you let me sleep?” he lets out a drowsy exhale, seemingly fed up with the conversation already.   

“But what if—”   

“Shh, c’mere,” he hushes her before he’s tucking her flush against his chest— a heavy palm resting on her thigh to keep her from moving because he’s exhausted and more than aware that tomorrow is going to be a long day, especially with this overthinking princess who he wishes would just shut up.   

It’s something he’d tell her outright if he wasn’t certain that she’d start crying all over again in response— the rest of the hike here with her sobs and hiccups thrumming in his ears more than enough for one day.   

And the sudden proximity seems to work because instantly, she stops shifting around; nearly stops breathing altogether when she swallows. “What are you…”   

“Just, uh, need you to calm down, yeah?” he pats at her hip before she’s clumsily humming out another apology.  

And despite the slight trace of the muddy water, her hair still smells of forest berries and wildflowers, making exasperation worm its way into his veins. He doesn’t understand why she’s trusting her life in his hands so thoughtlessly; it’s like she has no sense of self-preservation with the way she’s blindly following him anywhere, when not even a day ago he attempted to murder her.   

He wonders if she’s always been like this; naive and dumb, always seeing the good in people, even when there isn’t any. All it took was a few remotely sweet words and she’s already allowing him to hold her this close— a foolish deer resting peacefully next to a starving wolf and expecting not to get hurt.    

Momentarily, he gets the urge to just finish the job right now, wrap his arm around her throat until the flame burns out, leaving her eyes dull, lifeless. After all, it would make his life considerably easier. He can almost feel it— the moment her heart comes to a halt in her ribcage as she turns into nothing more than flesh and bones, freeing him from this burden.  

And at the end of the day, it’s part of his nature to kill for his own benefit, muscles nearly stinging with the self-serving temptation because that’s what he’s always been; selfish.    

“Rafe, that hurts,” her voice is small, nervous, nonetheless forcing him to resurface to the current; his rough fingertips mindlessly sinking into the bare surface of her thigh, harsh enough to leave a bruise. 

Her entire form is tense, breathing shallow and limbs unmoving, resembling a rabbit rigid with fear, only amplifying this ever-growing itch under his skin.  

He clears his throat.  

“Sorry,” a mutter through his teeth before she can finally feel the pressure dissipating— his thumb smoothing over the sore patch while he tries to decide what the fuck he should do with her.    

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

❤️ Black History Month - Queer Books + Black Authors

🦇 Good evening, beloved bookish bats. I hope you're having a wonderful weekend so far! Are you trying to read more queer books this year? More books by diverse authors? Books by black authors, not only for Black History Month, but all year long? Do I have a list for you (now featuring four new slides / 48 new books!).

❓What queer book and/or book featuring black characters have you recently read? Which one is on your tbr?

❤️ The Taking of Jake Livingston - Ryan Douglass ❤️ Mademoiselle Revolution - Zoe Sivak ❤️ Brown Girl Dreaming - Jacqueline Woodson ❤️ Alex Wise vs. the End of the World - Terry J. Benton-Walker ❤️ The Forest Demands its Due - Kosoko Jackson ❤️ Monstrous - Jessica Lewis ❤️ Thank You for Sharing - Rachel Runya Katz ❤️ Salt the Water - Candice Iloh ❤️ Trailer Park Prince - Andre L. Bradley ❤️ Blessings - Chukwuebuka Ibeh ❤️ Escaping Mr. Rochester - L.L. McKinney ❤️ Whenever You’re Ready - Rachel Runya Katz

❤️ Blood Justice - Terry J. Benton-Walker ❤️ Something Kindred - Ciara Burch ❤️ Infinity Alchemist - Kacen Callender ❤️ Vagabonds! - Eloghosa Osunde ❤️ Songs of Irie - Asha Ashanti Bromfield ❤️ Love and Sportsball - Meka James ❤️ Dead Girls Walking - Sami Ellis ❤️ Sleep Like Death - Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Where Shadows Meet - Patrice Caldwell ❤️ Family Meal - Bryan Washington ❤️ Where Sleeping Girls Lie - Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé ❤️ Leather, Lace, and Locs - Anne Shade

❤️ Brooms - Jasmine Walls & Teo DuVall ❤️ Lush Lives - J. Vanessa Lyon ❤️ Second Night Stand - Karelia & Fay Stetz-Waters ❤️ Broughtupsy - Christina Cooke ❤️ Skye Falling - Mia McKenzie ❤️ It’s About Damn Time - Arlan Hamilton & Rachel L. Nelson ❤️ The Color Purple - Alice Walker ❤️ And Then He Sang a Lullaby - Ani Kayode ❤️ Till the Last Beat of My Heart - Louangie Bou-Montes ❤️ Stars in Your Eyes - Kacen Callender ❤️ Prince of the Palisades - Julian Winters ❤️ Icarus - K. Ancrum

❤️ The Black Period - Hafizah Augustus Geter ❤️ How Long Til Black Future Month? - N. K. Jemisin ❤️ The Poisons We Drink - Bethany Baptiste ❤️ I Think They Love You - Julian Winters ❤️ Dear Senthuran - Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ Another Brooklyn - Jacqueline Woodson ❤️ D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding - Chencia C. Higgins ❤️ So Let Them Burn - Kamilah Cole ❤️ Sister Outsider - Audre Lorde ❤️ Red at the Bone - Jacqueline Woodson ❤️ How to Live Free in a Dangerous World - Shayla Lawson ❤️ I’m So (Not) Over You - Kosoko Jackson

❤️ Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender ❤️ Under the Udala Trees by Chinelo Okparanta ❤️ Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa ❤️ I'm a Wild Seed by Sharon Lee De La Cruz ❤️ Real Life by Brandon Taylor ❤️ Ruthless Pamela Jean by Carol Denise Mitchell ❤️ The Unbroken by C.L. Clark ❤️ Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Córdova ❤️ Skin Deep Magic by Craig Laurance Gidney ❤️ The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ That Could Be Enough by Alyssa Cole ❤️ Work for It by Talia Hibbert

❤️ All Boys Aren't Blue by George M. Johnson ❤️ The Deep by Rivers Solomon ❤️ How to Be Remy Cameron by Julian Winters ❤️ Running With Lions by Julian Winters ❤️ Right Where I Left You by Julian Winters ❤️ This Is Kind of an Epic Love Story by Kacen Callender ❤️ The Weight of the Stars by K. Ancrum ❤️ This Is What It Feels Like by Rebecca Barrow ❤️ Son of the Storm by Suyi Davies Okungbowa ❤️ Black Boy Joy by Kwame Mbalia ❤️ Legendborn by Tracy Deonn ❤️ The Wicker King by K. Ancrum

❤️ Pet by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson ❤️ Once Ghosted, Twice Shy by Alyssa Cole ❤️ Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann ❤️ A Spectral Hue by Craig Laurance Gidney ❤️ Power & Magic by Joamette Gil ❤️ The Black Veins by Ashia Monet ❤️ Treasure by Rebekah Weatherspoon ❤️ The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow ❤️ Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James ❤️ Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett

❤️ The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta ❤️ Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee ❤️ A Phoenix First Must Burn (edited) by Patrice Caldwell ❤️ Rise to the Sun by Leah Johnson ❤️ Things We Couldn't Say by Jay Coles ❤️ Black Boy Out of Time by Hari Ziyad ❤️ Darling by K. Ancrum ❤️ The Secrets of Eden by Brandon Goode ❤️ Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé ❤️ Off the Record by Camryn Garrett ❤️ Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers ❤️ The Henna Wars - Adiba Jaigirdar

❤️ How to Dispatch a Human by Stephanie Andrea Allen ❤️ Black Girl, Call Home by Jasmine Mans ❤️ The Essential June Jordan (edited) by Jan Heller Levi and Christoph Keller ❤️ A Master of Djinn by P. Djèlí Clark ❤️ A Blade So Black by L.L. McKinney ❤️ Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo ❤️ Dread Nation by Justina Ireland ❤️ Punch Me Up to the Gods by Brian Broome ❤️ Masquerade by Anne Shade ❤️ One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite & Maritza Moulite ❤️ Soulstar by C.L. Polk ❤️ 100 Boyfriends by Brontez Purnell

❤️ Hurricane Child by Kacen Callender ❤️ Quietly Hostile by Samantha Irby ❤️ A Little Kissing Between Friends - Chencia C. Higgins ❤️ The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi ❤️ If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann ❤️ Sweethand by N.G. Peltier ❤️ This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron ❤️ Better Off Red by Rebekah Weatherspoon ❤️ Friday I’m in Love by Camryn Garrett ❤️ Rainbow Milk by Paul Mendez ❤️ Memorial by Bryan Washington ❤️ Patsy by Nicole Y. Dennis-Benn

❤️ Sorrowland by Rivers Solomon ❤️ How to Find a Princess by Alyssa Cole ❤️ Yesterday is History by Kosoko Jackosn ❤️ Mouths of Rain (edited) by Briona Simone Jones ❤️ Dead Dead Girls by Nekesa Afia ❤️ Love's Divine by Ava Freeman ❤️ The Prophets by Robert Jones Jr ❤️ Odd One Out by Nic Stone ❤️ Symbiosis by Nicky Drayden ❤️ Thanks a Lot, Universe by Chad Lucas ❤️ The Passing Playbook by Isaac Fitzsimons ❤️ Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin

❤️ Little & Lion by Brandy Colbert ❤️ My Government Means to Kill Me by Rasheed Newson ❤️ Pleasure and Spice by Fiona Zedde ❤️ No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull ❤️ The Stars and the Blackness Between Them by Junauda Petrus ❤️ Filthy Animals by Brandon Taylor ❤️ The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin ❤️ Peaces by Helen Oyeyem ❤️ The Beauty That Remains by Ashley Woodfolk ❤️ Every Body Looking by Candice Iloh ❤️ Bingo Love by Tee Franklin, Jenn St-Onge, Joy San ❤️ The Heart Does Not Bend by Makeda Silvera

❤️ King and the Dragonflies by Kacen Callender ❤️ By Any Means Necessary by Candice Montgomery ❤️ Busy Ain't the Half of It by Frederick Smith & Chaz Lamar Cruz ❤️ Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo ❤️ Sin Against the Race by Gar McVey-Russell ❤️ Trumpet by Jackie Kay ❤️ Remembrance by Rita Woods ❤️ Daughters of Nri by Reni K. Amayo ❤️ You Know Me Well by Nina LaCour ❤️ The Summer of Everything by Julian Winters ❤️ Butter Honey Pig Bread by Francesca Ekwuyasi ❤️ Gingerbread by Helen Oyeyem

[messylxve]

your void | bucky barnes x ex-blackwidow!reader

content warning: allusions to su*c*de, allegories to depression, death, blood, malnourishment, child abuse (don't read if this is sensitive material, take care of yourself <3) SPOILERS TO THUNDERBOLTS*

Includes: Heavy angst (I mean HEAVY), hurt/comfort, established relationship, bittersweet ending

words in bold are in russian

+BONUS light in the dark

credit to @saradika-graphics for divider

It snuck up on you, that feeling you shoved deep down for so many years. It was cold, all consuming, and emptying—a feeling you were well accustomed to and learned to shove into the deepest concaves of your mind. 

You felt it before you saw it, and when you did see it, you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you. It was the embodiment of all your nightmares and grievances, slowly reaching out like black ink soaking up the room in a void. Your void. 

Your first instinct was to run, avoid it, hide from it. 

But some part of you knew it was futile. That this darkness you somehow knew so well, would not stop until it ate up every single aspect of you. 

So you grabbed your phone and dialed a number—Bucky’s number. You watched the darkness spread through the apartment you and Bucky shared, inching back into the next room as you listened to the ringing of his absence. 

You hoped at the very least you’d hear his voice through voicemail. But you didn’t. Your phone went black and clattered to the ground as you splashed into nothing more but a shadow on the floor. 

You awoke to your own reflection, but not the one you’ve come to know. It was devoid of the light you worked so hard on getting. 

You remembered these mirrors. They surrounded you at every angle in the shape of a large cold room—a ballet studio. Bright fluorescent lights buzzed incessantly, all but the one hovering above you. You lingered in the dark alone. 

“Hold it! You mustn’t falter even for a second.” 

Instincts surged through your body as you whipped around, seeing two new figures in the room. You were so much younger with so much fear painted in your eyes. Your body shook and tears began to fall down your cheeks, terrified to drop from your position in fear of meeting the sharp edge of your instructor's blade. It was positioned right under your thigh, barely even grazing your skin. 

“Your emotions are pathetic.” 

You were only six. 

“Your body is pathetic.” 

You were malnourished. 

“You are the weakest in your class, you will not survive long.” 

You endured 24 more years in the Red Room. 

A force possessed you, pushing your feet closer to the memory you’ve succeeded in evading for so long. You watched as your instructor lifted the blade at an angle, slashing and grazing your skin. 

Younger-you might not have moved but you did. In a moment of impulse, you pushed between yourself and your instructor, shoving them away wordlessly with tears in your eyes. 

In the seemingly endless numbers of times you’ve relived this dream, it never happened like this. It almost offered you a sense of justice. 

Almost. 

In just a blink, your instructor stood in front of you, charging now at you with their blade. You tried to fight but it was fruitless. Before you realized it, you were being shoved through the glass of the mirror and into cold, wet water. 

You were drowning. 

Some part of you wanted to. 

How easy it would be to just let your body go limp, give into the darkness and just give up. 

But it wasn’t that easy.

It was never that easy. 

A force pushed you out of the water, shoving you into the memory of your surroundings. It was the woods you grew up in. The tiniest ounce of freedom restricted by the threat of death or any worse punishment. 

You were on the shore of a lake whose image you yearned to forget. 

A whistle blew, echoing through the forest and ringing forever in your ears. From the other end, you can see more figures, gathering around the two who just jumped in. The top of their class—you and Anya Petrov, a girl you’ve come to know well. 

You began to run as you watched the two swim in competition to the other, chasing after a flag planted in the center. 

“No!” Your voice was loud and raw, but no one turned to you. Everyone watched as the two neared closer, you clearly in the lead. 

You didn’t know what you’d accomplish by running, but you never stopped until you saw yourself grab that flag and hold it high in the sky. 

You knew what came next. 

So you ran. 

Into the freezing forest, ignoring the cold you’ve become accustomed to. But no matter how far you ran, you couldn’t escape the gun shot that deafened everything. 

When you turned around, you saw younger-you, watching as Anya’s body floated limp in the water, surrounded by the scarlet hues of your success. 

You were frozen to the place you stood, unable to move, barely able to breathe. You could only crumple to the ground as your knees gave in below you. 

Maybe if you stayed still and gave up, it would all go away. You’d be at peace in the pain and learn to grow numb to it again. Maybe if you forgot the world, the world would forget you. 

But it didn’t want to forget you. Not this world at least. The world crafted by your void. 

The darkness of the shadows grew darker, larger. Like talons, it reached out for you, slowly but surely. At first you didn’t fight it, but when it grabbed you so harshly and began to drag you across the snow, you clawed for anything in your reach. 

You should’ve learned by now that fighting the darkness didn’t do anything. Running from the darkness wouldn’t do anything. You were alone. You were never going to win. Maybe you never will. 

No matter how hard you fought it, it still dragged you down into the hole at the trunk of a tree. Dragging you into another forgotten remnant of the past. One shoved down so deep, you barely recognized it at first glance. 

It was a simple room. 

No tests. No lakes. No mirrors. No knives. Just you and a box of files. A very large box of files. 

You remembered this moment, the moment you wanted to forget the most. It was recent, only 2017. You were free now because of Yelena Belova. You could do whatever you want—breathe air, find a home, live a life that is your own. 

But instead you were in your small newly acquired apartment with so many files. Files with your name on them. 

Each one of them held at least a quarter dozen people. Women and men alike, no matter what age, they all had ‘Terminated’ written over their information in big red letters. 

You tried to count how many were in the box. How many lives and how much blood was on your hands. But it was too much. 

You lost count. 

You watched over your own shoulder, numb as the pages flew by. You knew what was coming next, who was coming next. 

The pages stopped on a woman. She was young and beautiful. A scientist and clearly very brilliant in her field. You watched as recognition sparked in your eyes. 

The woman's eyes, her smile, even the crinkle in her nose. It mirrored yours perfectly. Like a reflection that only showed your sins. 

You couldn’t bear to sit and wait for your reaction as the horror sank in. You left your side and found a door. Closing the door so gently, you let yourself slide down the door and onto the ground as the echoes of your sobs rattled the walls. 

“No more,” you begged, plugging your ears. “Make it stop, please make it stop.” 

The darkness never stops. It only fades. 

You don’t know when it happened or how, but when you opened your eyes again, you were on the floor of you and Bucky’s apartment. 

Your phone was ringing. With shaking hands, you reached for it. 

“Hello?” Your voice felt like it should have been sore and raw, but it wasn’t. 

“What the hell is going on?” 

You had never been so thankful to hear the sound of Sam’s voice. 

“I leave you and Bucky alone for one minute and suddenly there’s a black ink spreading across the whole city and something about The New Avengers.”

“...what are you talking about?” 

“It’s all over the news.” 

You hear Sam’s voice continue on through the phone, but it’s all static to you as you flip the TV back on, finding a news channel where Bucky stood next to Yelena and a few others you couldn’t focus enough on to recognize. You hadn’t even realized that Sam was calling your name. 

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” 

You heard him pause, taking a deep breath. “Are you okay?” His voice lost his aggression and demand, heavy in vulnerable worry. 

You hated it. “I have to go.” 

You don’t know how long you sat there, watching staring at the television. You were lost in your own mind and spiraling thoughts. You only felt afraid and numb and afraid of anything that came to interrupt the numbness. 

Your fear ate at you, driving you to reach for your gun when you heard the jiggle of your door not—your gun that you no longer carried. 

When the door finally burst open, it was like the white light at the end of a neverending, blackened tunnel. Bucky. 

He spoke no words, only engulfing you in an embrace so tight. His left arm wrapped around your waist, the other finding solace in cradling your head so carefully. 

“Thank god,” he uttered into your forehead, as he kissed it, grounding himself into you. “I didn’t know wh–I couldn’t tell.” He let out a final breath. “Thank god you're safe.” 

You wished you could melt into his embrace like you always did. You wanted to as he held you so close, your hand finding his chest and feeling his steady heartbeat. But you couldn’t. Your body tensed uncontrollably. Just as it did so many years before. Something you had to unlearn with him. Something you relearned so easily. 

You wanted to cry. 

But no tears fell. 

You could only let yourself be embraced by him and comfort him. 

“Are you okay,” he asked eventually. 

The two of you were in bed now, side by side on the edge after he explained the surreal events that unfolded in so few hours. 

You smiled softly, your hand finding the turn of his jaw and cupping it. You prayed he couldn’t feel the way your fingers quivered. “As long as you’re here, I’m okay.” 

You brought your lips to his, kissing him tenderly in hopes he didn’t see the lie streaking across your face. 

You awoke, not with a startled gasp, but with silent tears in your eyes and the echoing screams of all the innocents haunting your dreams. 

The feeling snuck up on you again. The cold, dark, hopelessness you faced today. But no dark void reached out of the shadows for you. It was only the void your mind created to punish and isolate you. It was working. 

With a ragged sigh, you slipped past Bucky’s embrace, ashamed that you were selfish enough to leave him on a night he could finally find sleep in a bed instead of the floor. 

You wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed with him, forget all of your worries and let them fade into his embrace. But the darkness didn’t work like that. Not to you. 

It would only infect him. 

You couldn’t do that. Not when he’s come so far. 

So you excused the room and let yourself haunt the halls and stalk into the kitchen. 

Your movements were numbing and monotonous. Like a routine. Open the cabinet. Grab a glass. Close the cabinet. Get water. 

You don’t even remember doing these actions, only the empty taste of water on your lips. 

You were content with staying in the room, letting the silence be just silence around you. But the silence grew loud. It screamed at you, called your name. Layering voices on top of another. The voice of your instructor, the voice of Anya, your mother, glass shattering. 

You didn’t even realize you dropped your cup until the glass came splashing up at your legs. No matter how careful you were with the shards, it was useless. You only kept cutting yourself as you reached for the next and failed. 

“Doll, stop it, stop it.” 

You didn’t even realize you had woken him up. You didn’t want him to see you like this, a never ending flow of tears running down your cheeks as you now cried so openly. You had been vulnerable with Bucky before, but not like this. You let him in a little at a time, never all at once. 

“I was doing so well. I sto-I stopped thinking about it, everything I’ve done. Every they–” 

Your breathing became uncontrollable now, your voice scratched up and raw. 

“I thought I was done James,” you finally released with a sob. “Why can’t I be done?” 

All of the pain, the hurting, the anguish. It all came out in that moment with nowhere else to go. You shoved it down so much that it could only ever explode, taking you with it. 

You expected the worst from Bucky. For him to grab you by the forearms and tell you to suck it up and push it back in. For him to leave you in your own shattered glass and close the door behind him. You didn’t expect him to take you in his arms. 

His hold was different now. Gone was his tight, impossible squeeze. It was replaced with this, a hold so gentle yet firm. It was a hold that said he understood. 

“There’s no such thing as done.” His words were slow, a mere whisper as he pieced them together meticulously. “You have to carry it. Forever. You can’t get rid of it, no matter how hard you try. No matter how deep you bury it. Your mind will always know what you try to hide.” 

You felt the wet tears he shed falling onto you. You felt the dampness of his shirt as you clutched it, afraid he’d disappear. You felt it all as the two of you cried together. 

“But…you don’t have to carry it alone. You never have to carry it alone. It may be your past, but it is not your burden to bear. But you need to open up. Let me in. ” Once more, your hand found his chest, sitting right over his heart as you felt the rhythm of his heart, reminding you not only that he was alive, but that he was here with you. You weren’t alone. Not anymore.

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@casp1an-sea

Bonus piece posted here: light in the dark