#Listen her feathers are hard to draw with your finger

[rainey-arts]

Random doodles I drew today

Look at my son

Human Usurna?

Also not human Usurna

[fieldofdaisiies]

A Bargain

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: angst | words: 2,2k | warnings: this story explores a little darker themes like the loss of eyesight due to fire. thank you so much for beta reading @moonlightazriel me helping me get back into x reader writing💛

Fire. Nothing but unbearable heat and blinding light, like icy spikes piercing your skin. The brightness was overwhelming until everything went dark. Blank. Plain. No colour. No shape. No figure. Only darkness. And deafening silence.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Your fingers start to tremble around the book the moment a soft breeze brushes your legs and tells you that somewhere in the Library a door was opened. Your senses, touch, hearing and scent, have sharpened once you‘ve lost your eyesight and you are immediately alerted that someone is here. In your personal space, in your sanctuary, at this time. During the night!

You draw in a deep inhale, move your feet apart so you stand in stance. Your fingers curl into a fist  and then–

“Who is there?” you find yourself asking despite the unease brewing inside of you. You know that no one who could cause harm could technically enter this place, but still you always want to know who is close. Who is coming, so you can prepare yourself. Brace yourself.

Fear is rising within you because whoever is nearing you has loud footsteps — it is a male most definitely and if there is one thing in this world you almost fear as much as fire it is men. You try to steady yourself, listening closer, trying to make out if the steps sound familiar (if they belong to the general of the Illyrian armies) but they don’t. He walks slower, and his boots have a different sound when they pad over the library floor. It must be someone else and you—

Someone nears you and the words to ask again who it is die in your throat that suddenly seems so dry. You turn your front to the shelf, hoping to maybe go unnoticed, but the Mother doesn’t hear your prayers. A person halts next to you and you flinch, sucking in a sharp breath of air. Your body is trembling as you press against the shelf, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw starts to ache.

Your throat works on a swallow and some more silent prayers leave you that whoever is close just walks by and—

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” a gentle male voice says, interrupting the tense silence. The air whooshes out of your lungs, your blood chilling because you know there is no escaping now that he has seen you. But somehow, all worry and fear seems to dissipate when he speaks up again. He has no brutal voice, there is nothing harsh or hard in it – it sounds melodic. Almost like the voice of a singer. “I apologise, I really didn’t mean to scare you. I had no idea someone was still around at this time.”

You hesitate before you turn around or give the stranger an answer, but something soft, almost like a feather, brushes your lower arm. It is nothing more than a breath, like a cloud, it may be—

A shadow. And it is soothing and gives you a feeling of comfort. You have felt it before, shadows, like a cat's tail brushing your legs.

“You are the Shadowsinger, right?” Slowly, you turn to him, remembering Gwyn’s stories about the male with the dancing shadows around him who is training her now and who has sometimes come down here to collect books. You should have remembered his footsteps!

“I am a shadowsinger, yes,” the male says, “but you can call me—” His voice cuts off momentarily. And you know what he has realised. His eyes have probably landed on yours and he realised that you can‘t see. That you are blind. And that since the fateful day almost a decade ago.

“Azriel,” he eventually finishes, finally having found his words to continue.

You inhale a deep breath, and say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Azriel. I am Y/N.” A smile appears on your lips. “How can I help you?”

"I am here to pick up some books Gwyn suggested to me." The shadowsinger keeps his polite distance, you can feel that, his stance broad but not intimidating and you are thankful for that. Despite his kind aura, he is still a male, a stranger, and you always have to be careful. You can’t ever risk anything again. Never again.

“Gwyn said I would find them somewhere around here, but I truly have no idea where I should start to look.”

A grin tugs at the corners of your lips at the mention of her name. Gwyn is your closest friend down here and you love her like a little sister. "She is very fond of you, Shadowsinger,” you say, voice tinged with admiration.

You can’t see the smile appearing on Azriel’s face but you can feel it, how his heart is filled with relief and joy at your revelation.

"She is quite talented," Azriel comments.

"And beautiful…" Your voice almost gains a dreamy touch, and you place the book you have been holding the entire time back on the shelf. Azriel doesn’t say anything, and you know where his thoughts have gone to.

"My eyes may no longer be able to see, Shadowsinger, but my heart can. And that’s how I know that the priestess is beautiful - she has a soul of pure gold."

"I think she isn’t the only one down here who this applies to." This time he takes a small step forward, only a little, while trying to calm his vividly swirling shadows. You can feel them brush against you and his scent fills your nostrils - cedar and night-chilled mist.

They try to stretch out while he tries as hard as he can to hold them close.

"Are you talking about Merrill?" A little mischievous giggle leaves you right after you say her name and it even draws a chuckle from Azriel. The sound is wonderful, rich and deep, beautiful.

"I think you know exactly who I am talking about." 

You feel how a blush warms your cheeks and quickly avert your gaze. "Which books do you need?"

He tells you which ones he is looking for, speaking slowly, and in his wonderful, deep voice. You know immediately where to find them all, having memorised every small detail of the Library,

“Follow me.” You set out with a smile, waving at him to come and follow you. You have ventured through the corridors filled with hundreds of bookshelves and thousands of books many times and know exactly where and when you have to turn.

You can’t see it but you feel his curiosity, his slight astonishment about you and it makes you giggle. You walk swiftly, your robes swishing over the floor when you turn one corner after the other and finally arrive at your first destination. Your fingers trail over the backs of the books, touching and feeling the binding until you grab two books and hand them to him.

The next ones are on a lower floor and the last one even lower. 

“Why are you here at this time of the day?” you find yourself asking him, walking down a narrow corridor. You have come to like narrower space because they make you feel more secure than wide, open spaces. “Or rather night, Shadowsinger.” 

“I could ask you the same - why are you awake at this time?” You can hear the amusement in his voice about your little bantering, and a smile appears on your face, but fades when you start to answer. “It is calmer at night - no rustling pages, no shuffling feet, no hushed conversation. I can focus easier during this time of the day.”

“That’s understandable,” Azriel hums, “that’s partly why I prefer night over day. No rushing, loud people, no bright lights, no— I am so sorry. I didn‘t mean to—”

“Don’t apologise. You can see and you are allowed to be affected by light. It can be too much, I know this, I used to be able to see it once too.”

“I still should be more careful with my words.”

“I don’t want you to be. I want you to be yourself. You are a polite male and I am not made of glass. I don’t break so easily, so please, speak your mind.” You hand him a book from a shelf, after letting your fingers trail over the spine to make sure it is the right one. “I have always preferred night over day. The people are more relaxed, nothing is rushing them and they are not so loud.”

“I understand. I prefer it when it is calm too.”

“Unless there is music. Have you heard Gwyn sing?”

“I have,” he says with fondness.

“And do you sing too? You are a shadowsinger.”

There is a pause and you worry he won’t answer at all, but—

“I do. Sometimes. Only when I am alone.”

You hum in answer, not wanting to push him to sing for you although you are dying to hear it. It must be wonderful with his deep tenor and his velvety voice.

“Is there a chance one can hear one day?” Your lips quirk into a bright grin.

“No, but maybe one day in the far far future.” He blows out a long breath. “Now I have a question for you.” 

You brace yourself, lifting your chin to face his face, making out nothing but blurry surroundings. You would love to reach out to trace his face, his shoulders, to feel what he looks like and try to picture him in your mind.

“Would you like to join the other priestesses, Cassian and me for training one day?”

Your heart slams to a halt, pondering. Somehow you would love it — leave this pöace for once, but training? You hesitate, the word yes burning on your tongue, but you swallow it down. It would be useless. There would be nothing you could do and you would only make a fool out of you. So instead of agreeing, you curtly shake your head and take a step back. “A kind offer, but I must decline.”

“Because of—”

“Yes, Azriel. Because of my eyes. I can’t see, which means I can’t train.”

“That’s not true. Yes, you can’t see, but for training you don’t only need your eyes. Let me put together some exercises and in return you join us for the next training. I can prove to you that you are just as capable at training and fighting as the others are.”

“Is this a promise?”

“We can make a bargain if you like.” There is a hint of amusement in his voice that makes a silly, little grin appear on your lips and erase the former worry etched upon your features. You reach out your hand. 

“A bargain it is - I‘ll join you for training, and in return you will sing for me.”

There is a pause and for a moment you worry that he won’t agree. That it was a silly idea and he will be offended and just leave it. You don’t want whatever has started between you here not to end already. You want to—

“I accept.” Azriel also extends his hand and the moment your palms touch, lightning zips between your hands. It runs throughout your entire body, but it is not the only thing you can feel. There are scars. Scars that adorn his palms, most definitely his whole hands and your heart cracks. What has been down to him? How did he get them?

Your thoughts are swiftly cut off when lightning zips between your palms and then you feel it, like a warm and thin strap something curls around your upper arm and you know it, the legends are true — when you make a bargain you‘ll receive a tattoo as a testament of it.

Azriel has fallen silent the moment your hands part and you wonder if he is examining the tattoo. You wish you could see it, know what it looks like, and admire it.

“Let me describe it to you,” Azriel starts, and then you feel how he gently takes your arm, lifting it slightly. “It‘s a thin silver band around your upper arm, almost invisible, and where the two ends meet there are three small stars. The first is slightly larger than the second and the third one is the biggest.” He strokes his thumb over your arm, a natural action he probably doesn’t even notice but your hair starts to stand on end.

“Mine is almost identical to yours. It is in the same place. Only that the band looks slightly broader.”

“I think I would love it if I could see it.”

“I am sure you would.” You can hear the smile in his voice and return the gesture. “I love it.”

So can hear him shift, moving a step away from you. “I think we should both sleep now, Y/N, but I‘ll see you tomorrow for training. I‘m sure Gwyn can lend you something to wear if you only have your robes.”

“I will ask her.” You pull your lower lip between your teeth when nervousness about the following day starts to trickle in.

“Perfect, until tomorrow then.” He hums. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Shadowsinger.”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel @berryzxx

[luveline]

hiii, can i have a blurb with emily, it can be literally about anything, i miss her and you write her impeccably ✨🥺

thank you ♡

Emily frowns at her computer screen. She's been having a hard time using the new system, and she can't stop batting at the feathered bangs that kiss her eyebrows, an agitated tic. 

She really doesn't like admitting that she can't do things. 

You rifle through your desk drawer. A few weeks ago you'd stopped for throat soothers on the way to work and found a packet of strawberry flavoured mentos at the gas station. I love the strawberry flavour, Emily'd said once, but I don't like any of the other ones. It feels like too much of a waste to buy the bag. 

You bought them. Chickened out on giving them to her. They're still sealed. 

"Hey," you say quietly, careful not to draw the attention of her deskmates. If Spencer or Derek were to witness this, they'd both laugh at you. Everyone knows how you feel except Emily, because isn't that always the way? "Emily?" 

She immediately turns her attention and concern to you, her eyes so dark and pretty it makes you feel sick. "Hey," she says, her voice dulcet, near melodic, "you okay?" 

"I got you these." 

You pass her the box of mentos without fuss. 

Her lips part in shock before melding to a smile that brags the pearl of her teeth. "Oh my god. Where did you find these?" Her gaze flickers between you and her newfound treasure. "How did you–" 

"I remembered, um, when we went to Austin, you," —you look down at her hands— "said you liked only the strawberry ones. So when I saw them I hoped you'd like them."

"Have you ever tried them?"

You rub at the inside of your wrist. "No." 

Emily's chair rattles as she stands, and mentos hit the sides of the box as she breaks the seal with her finger and tips a few into her palm. They're a light pink and smell strongly of strawberry, though there's a subtle coolness to them. 

"Here," she says. "I think you'll like them." 

You take it because she could offer you little tiny rocks and you'd eat them. You'd smile at her with cracked teeth. Emily doesn't realise how much power she has over you (remarkably) nor the effect of her closeness. You press the mento between your lips and she does the same, beaming this beatific, heart-racing smile at you as strawberry pops over your tongue. 

"They're good, right?" she asks, nearly smug. 

You nod quickly. You're not a reliable narrator and you'd say yes no matter what, but something about looking at her makes them sweet. 

"The– the new computer system, it's buggy, right?" you ask. When she looks at you dumbfounded, you correct, "Non responsive. Doesn't wanna listen." 

"Right?" She looks so relieved that it knocks you off kilter. 

"I think I figured out how to get my emails to stay in one place," you say, aiming for casual, barely making the mark. 

"Could you show me how to do that?" 

You sit in her desk chair at her computer and fix her emails to the desktop. The system isn't buggy, but you want her to feel capable. She is capable. Strawberry mentos over your shoulder, her hand resting on the back of her chair, fingertips brushing your back and silky dark hair skimming your shoulder, she's perfect. 

Spencer meets your eye from over the desktop monitors. He, of similar disposition, seems to be commending you on your demeanour with widened eyes and a small nod. 

Derek, on the other hand, taunts. "Is it hot in here?" he asks, fanning himself with his t-shirt. 

Emily leans over your shoulder to grab a case file from her desk, tossing it onto Derek's. "You can fan yourself with that once you've peer reviewed it for me." 

Spencer shakes his head in pity. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Emily asks you, looking down. "Are you hot too? You look flustered." 

"I'm feeling it," Spencer says. 

"Huh. I must be cold blooded," she says under her breath, the exhale tickling your neck. "Weird." 

[dereliction-if]

RO reactions to drunk MC rambling on how much they love the RO and just starting to ramble all the qualities of the RO they love while cuddling into them? (Deep relationship stage)

Tis a cute one anon, merci beaucoup! I adapted the scenario a bit, hope that’s ok 🫶🏻

The Heir - When they enter your shared bedroom you are already lying in bed, turning around to face them after hearing the door open. "The-ree you Arrre" you almost shout at them. "Yes, here I am." they respond as they make their way to your side of the bed. You're already in the middle of your little deifying rant as the weight of their body on the mattress catches your attention. "What would you do without me, hmm?" they tease and you seriously start pondering over it. Snapping their fingers to get your attention back, your confused expression makes them chuckle. "Shut up and kiss me"

The Commander - C watches you stretch on the bed, babbling like a teenager during their first crush. He is annoyed and his face tells. But he cannot take his eyes from you, nor from your lips and he gets lost in the view of them, not hearing a single word that is coming out, fully focused on the curves and soft wet shimmer on them. Without noticing it, his face softens. The moment you turn to look at him he startles, feeling caught and it dooesn't help that you are grinning at him like an idiot. He looks away and you laugh, then continue rambling. C doesn't look at you but instead begins to listen and the more he listens the larger the lump in his throat grows, until he closes his eyes - just a precaution, the wet sensation in his eyes betraying him.

The Sovereign - You stumble into her office late at night, completely drunk. A looks up from her papers, the desk being full of scrolls and books and many almost burnt down candles. Her eyes follow you as you try to gracefully sit down in the large chair next to the fireplace. It's hard to understand what you are rambling but once you sit down successfully, you manage to speak at least as clearly as is necessary to make out the words that leave your lips. A tilts her head, sighing as she places the feather back into the inkwell. She gets up from her desk and slowly approaches you, bowing down to meet you at eye level - you're still rambling without a break, now grinning wide. A cups your cheek with her hand, looking deep into your eyes and you finally halt. She then moves in closer, her lips brushing against yours and you lean in, you want more - unfortunately she draws back, a soft smile on her face. "Let's get you to bed." but you don't want to, pouting, "Be a good girl / boy and come with me". she extends her hand for you to take it as she gets up. And you do.

The Mage - J looks at you all fascinated. Oh how they wish they would know what it feels like to be drunk. Whenever you drank something and your mood changed, you got more cuddly, more emotional, they couldn't take their eyes from you. These are the only times you actually manage to truly surprise them, it's like a little mystery fascinating an innocent child. They lie down next to you, your shoulders touching as they listen to your rambling, watching you from the corner of their eye. Your own eyes are getting smaller by the minute, as J casts a colourful flower tapestry above your head, something that became a good night ritual for you two, hypnotizing you with the most beautiful scents and colours. A warm feeling spreading in their chest.

The Mercenary - H laughs, they find you absolutely adorable as you are lying on the bed, facing the ceiling, wildly gesturing the immense amount of love your body contains for them. While words like these would have pushed them away in the past, they came to not only tolerating but completely devouring them. They have never believed anybody more than you and it feels good, because this is something you have in common - this limitless love. H lies down next to you, gracefully rolling around so they lay on their stomach facing you. With their head placed in their hands the expression on their face turns into a ridiculously happy one. "Tell me more." They say when you come to a short halt, looking a bit surprised that they are so close "suddenly" .

The Knight - D finds you absolutely endearing and will blush more and more with every added compliment, a treasure like the sweetest honey. Holding you close to their heart, they have their arms wrapped around you, gently stroking your arm, watching the path of their fingers on your skin as if to memorize once more how the touch feels. Their head rests on yours with their lips resting atop of it, they inhale your smell, an enamored smile on their lips. They'll hold you until you fall asleep in their arms, hushing a "Only the sweetest dreams to you my love". Never have they been happier, having you at their side, with all your little quirks. It's the purest form of love they ever felt.

[ggjunkie]

Heavenly Hazards

Chapter 3

Before you knew it, hours melted into days, and suddenly the whole week had flown by in a blur. Over this time, you had taken to visiting Aeson, creating a routine. Around the start of his shift, you’d appear, you’d talk, laugh at the poor customers buying a smoothie, talk some more, and eventually he’d start teaching you how to use your wings.

It was a wild ride, quite literally. Your wings unfurled and, for a few glorious minutes, you soared through the sky like a majestic bird. The wind underneath your baby-white feathers not only felt good… it felt right. Each beat of your wings propelled you higher, carrying you away from the confines of the city below.

There was a freedom in flight, a sense of liberation that you definitely didn’t feel walking on the ground below. The air rushed past you, teasing strands of hair and fluttering against your skin like an affectionate lover. You reveled in the sensation, feeling weightless as you soared through the heavens.

It never lasted long, however, as your horrible stamina always bit you in the ass after a few minutes. Your wings would ache and your chest would heave, signaling it was time to land. You had learned your lesson to listen to the signs, lest you want to crash-land into another bird bath.

At one point during your lesson, after he had helped you safely land, Aeson had broken and dropped to his knees, begging with clasped hands in mock desperation for you to “get a job” so the two of you could “go bowling or something.” You refused to even be associated with the smoothie stand, though you spent most days there. However, getting a paycheck didn’t sound like a half bad idea.

That’s how you found yourself mixing drinks and handing out pastries at the cozy coffee stand right across from Aeson. Working there proved to be a pleasant surprise. The tasks were straightforward, the pay was remarkably high and, best of all, the food was a vast improvement from the smoothies. As customers streamed in and out, you found yourself constantly busy.

Meanwhile, across the street, Aeson was struggling to stave off boredom. With no customers to tend to, nor annoying angels to entertain, he took to doodling on the chalkboard menu. Usually he sketched caricatures of your customers, or occasionally, crude doodles of you. Although you always laughed, your attention was often divided, torn between the amusing drawings, and the constant searching.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the promenade, there was always one thing on the back of your mind– those stupid, pretty, elusive wings. Ever since that fateful first encounter, they seemed to tease you, either appearing fleetingly in the crowd, or in the corner of your eye. Each sighting left you both exhilarated and frustrated, like chasing after a breeze that always seemed to slip through your fingers.

The first time you had seen those wings was when you were leant over the counter, chatting and laughing with Aeson. He had made a stacked pyramid of smoothie cups, working hard to make sure it stayed balanced. At each slight wind, he jumped to keep it safe. Obviously, your natural reaction was to start flicking your wings to make him sweat.

As you laughed particularly hard at one of his faces, a pair of golden wings came batting down, sending Aeson’s tower of cups crashing. He let out a small, pathetic whimper, ducking to pick up the mess. You, however, spun around indignantly, ready to defend your friend. Although, by the time you finished your rotation, they were gone. Since then, they seemed to keep reappearing.

As you were on the verge of catching a glimpse of the elusive owners of those golden wings, your moment was rudely interrupted by a customer. With her platinum white bob and a dominating demeanor to match, she practically oozed bitch as she approached the counter.

Greaaat.

Forcing a nervous smile, you greeted her with strained politeness. "What can I get you?"

"Just one coffee," she replied curtly, shoving the exact change into your hand before you could even finish speaking.

"Ah, thank you..." you muttered, mentally bracing yourself for what was sure to be an unpleasant interaction.

While you prepared her drink, you stole a quick glance over at Aeson, only to find him proudly displaying his latest creation – a not-so-flattering portrait of your less-than-friendly customer. You managed a weak smile in response, too apprehensive to react any further.

Finally, you finished the drink and handed it over to her, eager to move on to the next customer before she could cause any more trouble. But before you could make your escape, she leveled a sharp gaze at you.

"Are you two courting?"

You blinked in confusion, taken aback by her sudden question. "Excuse me?"

With an exasperated huff, she pointed an accusatory finger in Aeson's direction. He, in turn, scrambled to erase his incriminating doodle and ducked down behind the counter, guilt written all over his face. “Are you two dating. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Realization hit.

"Oh, OH! Oh, heaven's no!" you exclaimed, “He's the only friend I have here!"

"Sad," the woman remarked with a sip of her coffee, her tone dripping with condescension. "But good. See you later."

And just like that, she flew off, leaving you to bask in her weird comments. With the shake of your head, you got back to work, ignoring Aeson as he tried to mouth something about a… flute?

—

After a long day of bustling activity at the coffee stand, you were more than ready for a change of pace. As your shift finally came to a close, you couldn't wait to meet up with Aeson for another round of flying lessons. Hanging up your apron, you scanned the promenade eagerly, and there he was, Aeson, leaning casually against a lamppost with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hey there!" he greeted you with a wide grin as you approached. "Ready to take to the skies again?"

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding with anticipation. Together, you set off down the sidewalk, chatting animatedly as you made your way to your favorite spot for flying practice – a quiet park nestled away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

As you entered the park, a sense of tranquility washed over you, the sounds of the city fading into the background as you found yourselves surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds.

You spread your wings, feeling the familiar thrill of anticipation course through your veins. Aeson took the lead, his movements graceful and fluid as he soared effortlessly into the sky, beckoning you to follow.

With a deep breath, you launched yourself into the air, the wind rushing past you as you ascended higher and higher. The world fell away beneath you, replaced by the vast expanse of the sky stretching out in every direction.

Together, you laughed and cheered, reveling in the sheer freedom of flight as you performed loops and dives, weaving through the clouds with the ease of birds in flight. With each passing moment, you felt more alive than ever before.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, you reluctantly descended back to earth, your hearts still pounding with adrenaline.

“Oh hey!” You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. “We’re really close to my house! Want to stop by and grab a water?”

Aeson teasingly smirked. “Ah, inviting me in for a drink, are we? So forward.”

You swat the smug bastard as he squawks, attempting to dodge. You chase him down the street until you end up in front of your apartment door. It unlocks as you get closer, and you slow down to walk him inside.

He immediately makes himself at home, snooping through your kitchen drawers and pictures. You ignore him, choosing to search your pantry for bottles of water. As he reaches the fridge, however, his face pales.

“Why do you have an invite from The Adam?”

[saintmurd0ck]

Bro the idea of "you dont have to be gentle with me, I won't break" with Frank Castle has me foaming at the mouth

thank you so much for sending in this ask my lovely!!! and i'm sorry it took so long 🫠🫠 but it's here now, and i really hope you like it<3333 frank castle has had me in an absolute chokehold recently (as always, but even more so with american gigolo coming out) and so i give you this....

let's have a sleepover at mine!

push and pull | frank castle x f!reader

It doesn’t matter that Josie’s is packed, or that it’s so noisy you can barely hear your own thoughts.

Matt’s listening.

He laughs, and it’s a hollow sound; a half-hearted response at another one of Karen’s jokes, but the thing is, he doesn’t get to listen. Not when he’s strung you around for months, refusing to let you in. Maybe he thinks you’re too soft for what he’s capable of, what he does in the city at night, but you’re not. 

You’re more than what that gossamer façade conceals.

Maybe it’s the liquid courage coursing through your veins, or the way he’s hungrily looking you up and down, but everything falls away: the noise of the bar, Matt’s unwanted attention.

You feel yourself heating up as Frank’s eyes glaze over you, muscle feathering in his jaw as his gaze settles on the slit in your dress. It sparks the embers roiling deep within your core, and before your eyes, it blazes into an inferno.

Each step towards Frank feels like a delicate nail dragging down your spine; even more so as the whispers of Matt – your Matt, long-gone – cracks away from you. For so long you’ve been selfless… respectful, even, of Matt. You didn’t want to step on his toes, nevermind that this… between you and Frank was more, and will be more, than you and Matt ever were.

You vowed to put yourself first, so with your heart thundering in your chest and your mind swirling with all the possibilities of what will be, you tiptoe up to Frank’s ear.

And you tell him what you’ve been thinking about all night.

.

You wonder if Matt heard Frank’s guttural groan at your words, or the way he dragged you immediately to the nearest bathroom. You wonder if Matt’s choosing to hear the hard click of the lock, or the clinking of Frank’s belt as he loops it around the door handle.

It’s a hurried, almost desperate affair as Frank steadies his hands on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the slit of your dress to feel for the waistband of your panties. He backs you up, free palm resting on the flat of your back to cushion you from the graffiti-etched wall. His eyes find yours amongst your shaky breathing, and the tiny whimpers he’s drawing from you as he tugs the damp fabric down your thighs.

And Matt leaves your mind altogether.

.

“Matt?” Karen asks, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You spaced out. Everything okay?”

He flinches. 

And he grits his teeth. “I can hear them.”

Karen’s voice is innocent, but she knows what — who — he’s referring to. “Hear what?”

“D’you know what she whispered to him? Right before…” Matt doesn’t need to finish his sentence. Karen knows.

“I’m listening.”

Matt clenches his jaw as his hands curl into fists, so tightly he thinks his whiskey glass could shatter at any second. He lowers his voice, as if in resentment. “You don’t have to be gentle with me. I won’t break.”

[kylo-wrecked]

{ cont'd from here, because i, like some people, had no chill }

Tenements creaked like broken bones. Old bones. Their windows whistled while the Domino Sugar Factory flipped the bird across the way. Pigeons and crows roosted on the tired arms of streetlamps, shaking out their wings. Dark pinions overlapped darker pinions in a black tangle, not unlike Ben's hair. The wind could've blown them away, man and Valkyrie both. Ben and his sharp teeth laughed at the sky. The stars, ghosts. Below, the East River laughed with him, rolling and hissing endlessly.

His laugh was curt, there and then gone, and he regarded Brunnhilde, this sliver of moonlight with the hardness of a diamond, pursing his lips in thought. Ben was listening.

Maybe selectively. Maybe with what was left of his soul. Maybe he felt as the Valkyrie did. Maybe not—maybe they didn't want the same things. Maybe he didn't give a good God damn. Nor had he ever wanted glories, ashes, feathers, and fallen sisters. He didn't care for such things any more than he'd cared for flying business class.

Ben Solo was made for the travails and tragedies of fruitless human endeavor. He was made to rot. Was she? From what she described, Ragnarok seemed like another exercise in futility: it meant nothing. Even gods destroyed themselves. 

Even gods answered questions with questions. 

When Brunnhilde pierced Ben with her gaze and asked her questions, he provided a statement. 

"Home is sound and the color it makes. That's me."

Ben was also made for music. His fingers, their seemingly preternatural familiarity with stringed instruments, the branching pathways in his brain, drawing shape and flavor from things not meant to have form, taste, or tincture. 

Additionally, he might have thought he was made for reality, the state of things as they exist, even when they have wings.  

"You? You sound like a woman," he said, shrugging at Brunnhilde, her pretty pissed-off face. "Maybe you belong to yourself now. Maybe your home is being angry. How the shit should I know? You 'belong to nothing?' Then why're you so proud? You ever think of that?"

Tapped at his temple as the wind ruffled through those black locks, and the pigeons cooed, and the crows laughed along as they ascended from the sudden smell of rain. 

"Do you have feathers up there, too?" 

[laughingsapphic-creates]

Inukag week, Day 2: Possession

Didn't quite make midnight on this one, but I had work. Hopefully I make tomorrow 😅

@inukag-week

~~~~~~

In My Head

"Kagura, let Kagome go! I'm your opponent right now!"

It had just seemed like a regular run-of-the-mill jewel hunt. Local demon, relatively harmless, suddenly goes haywire? Sounded like a sacred jewel shard causing problems, same as usual. And it has been a pretty standard fight, until Kagura showed up. Kagome had chased her down with sacred arrows while Inuyasha helped beat down the demon - a burrower, easily handled with reference to their fight with Kageromaru a while back - and followed once it was weak enough for Sango and Miroku to handle.

So yeah, standard fare. Until Kagura had grabbed Kagome and hauled her up onto her feather.

"Better hurry along, Inuyasha!" Kagura crowed, turning Kagome's face in her hand from her perch above the trees. "Naraku has such plans for your pretty little priestess."

"You give her back now!" He demanded, disliking how desperate he sounded.

"Inuyasha!"

Trying to avoid Kagura's notice, Kagome tossed something off the feather, and Inuyasha snatched it from the air as he leapt after them. The cool glass and faint rattle of its contents told him what he needed to know without taking his eyes off of the rapidly shrinking transport.

Inuyasha did his best to take chase, but as the feather rose into the sky, and the wind whipped their scent trail into nothing, Inuyasha slowed, trying to keep sight of the speck he thought was them until they vanished into the clouds.

He kept running in the direction they had disappeared in, a shout of frustration clawing its way from his throat.

"Inuyasha!"

Skidding to a halt, he turned to watch as Kilala landed on his left, with Sango, Shippo, and Miroku in tow.

"It was a trap. Kagura grabbed Kagome and flew off with her," he growled. "She used the cloud cover to hide before she could get too far, and I can't pick up their scent anymore."

"Great. Just perfect," Sango sighed fingers tightening in Kilala's fur. Miroku held up a tainted shards, frowning at it.

"We got the shard that Naraku planted on that demon, but lost Kagome in exchange. It was a distraction, but a costly one for him. He probably thinks he'll take it back easily when we go to rescue Kagome."

"But if Naraku wants the shard back," Shippo considered, "why did he make it so hard for Inuyasha to follow Kagura?"

Inuyasha looked down at the vial in his hand, gritting his teeth with another growl as his fingers clenched around the glass. With barely a thought, he lifted the little bottle to his mouth, pulling the cork out with his teeth and dumping their one remaining shard into his hand.

"Inuyasha! What do you think you're doing!?"

The half demon looked at Sango, the crystal point pinched between two claws.

"I've had what we'll call a scientific theory for a while, and now seems as good a time as any to test it," he stated, looking at the shard as he spoke. "Naraku can communicate with and control demons and humans through shards he's corrupted, right? Is it that wild to think that maybe Kagome could do the same for shards that she's purified?"

"Yes! That is wild! And crazy, and stupid!" Shippo decided, jumping to Miroku's shoulder to try and draw Inuyasha's attention more easily.

"And what do you suggest? Kagura's wind blew out any scent trail they might have left, and she got away fast enough that she was out of sight before you three even spotted me. She could've changed directions once they were out of sight, so we'd end up running even further away before we figure out where they've gone!"

"You shouldn't rely on the jewel's power like that. We've seen what it can do to other demons, you can't be so cavalier about this," Miroku insisted, clearly agreeing with Shippo.

"Would ya just listen? I ain't interested in the power right now! Kagome's spiritual power purified the jewel. Don't get me wrong, I know what it's still capable of. But if Kagome's spiritual power is in this shard, it could connect me to her so I can track her." Pulling the collar of his robe down, Inuyasha used a claw to cut slightly into the skin there. "Look, worst case scenario, it won't work and I'll take it right back out, I promise."

Sango paused, watching blood bead at the cut beneath Inuyasha's throat. He could see her considering as she met his eyes - it was definitely a risk, they both knew that. But if it worked, it might be a way that they could save Kohaku the next chance they got.

Another beat passed, and she placed a hand on Miroku's free shoulder.

"We'll try it, just for a minute or two. We don't know if Kagome is able to connect through the shards the way Naraku is, but if she can, it should only take a moment to establish a connection."

Inuyasha nodded, hesitating for only a moment before pressing the jewel shard into his open wound.

Immediately, he felt the low-level aches and scrapes from his altercation with Kagura and the other demon fade - skin knit back together, pains eased, and Inuyasha felt the skin beneath his throat close up around the jagged edges of the shard. Power coursed through him, and he could immediately understand why other demons got addicted to this. He could sense the darkness trying to take hold, but more than that, he felt the warmth and light that he'd come to associate with Kagome's reiki.

Clawed fingers still resting on the jewel at his collar, he reached out in his head, looking for the parts that felt the most like her.

Kagome? Come on, talk to me. Can you hear me?

There was a beat of silence, and he could feel the others looking at him.

"Alright, Inuyasha, I think it's time-"

Something reached back.

He shushed Miroku, trying to focus.

Kagome?

I-Inuyasha?

"I've got her," he announced

Kagome! Are you okay?

I'm fine, we're still flying. What are you doing in my head?

I used the jewel shard to connect with you. Listen, can you see any landmarks we can use to find you?

The jewel-? Inuyasha! That's not why I threw it to you and you know it!

Explanation later. I'll take it out after we find you, just tell me where you are!

An image flashed in his mind: the mountains to their right, already much closer but still distant, and with a dark, unnatural shadow on what should've been the sunny face. And if he really focused, he could feel a tug on his chest, pulling him towards the mountain.

You hang in there, Kagome. We'll be there soon.

Smirking softly to himself, Inuyasha looked up at the mountain peak Kagome had shown him.

"There! That mountain! They're getting close to Naraku's castle!"

Kilala transformed and they mounted up, taking to the skies.

Inuyasha scanned the clouds for any glimpse of Kagura's feather, but found himself distracted by the lightness in his head. Kagome's presence was somehow a one-to-one mix of mental fog and perfect clarity. He couldn't hear the thoughts she wasn't intentionally thinking at him, but he got some impressions - indignation and righteous fury (he wondered if what kagara had said to trigger that), but also a confidence that was almost smug. She was hundreds of feet in the air, with Kagura, on her way to Naraku's castle, and he could barely feel any fear from her. It was an afterthought, barely worthy of note.

He didn't know what being possessed by Naraku through a jewel shard felt like first hand, but according to Sango and Kagome, it was a dark, cloying sort of thing. Like your head was filled with miasma and rot and decay that made you willing to do anything for relief. Inuyasha yasha had quietly likened it to his faint memories of being a full demon when the Tessaiga broke for the first time. That constant stream of RIP/TEAR/ENDURE/SURVIVE/KILL that occasionally reared its head in his nightmares didn't sound too similar to their experiences, but it was the closest comparison he had.

Having Kagome in his head, meanwhile, felt like the polar opposite of that wild, cornered animal that he had become in demon form. Comfort instead of desperation, compassion instead of cruelty. It was hard to say if it was the spiritual power or just Kagome herself, but either way, it was probably the closest to enlightenment that Inuyasha would ever get.

This feels weird, right? Kagome asked, her voice light and sweet against his consciousness. Not bad, but definitely weird.

You're telling me, he agreed, wondering what sort of impressions she might've gotten from him, if any.

As if hearing the question out loud, her voice came again.

You need to relax. I can feel you stressing from here.

You're one to talk! Where the hell is your sense of self-preservation?! In case you missed it, you're being kidnapped and brought to Naraku!

You and the others aren't far behind, right? What's there to worry about?

That impression of confidence he felt before strengthened, pushing out that negligible sense of fear. He wasn't sure if she could feel the pride/wonder/satisfaction that he felt in response. He knew, after so much time together, that Kagome trusted him. That she believed he would and could come and clutch when she needed him. It was different, though, to feel it in his own head with the same surety as the phases of the moon or the cycle of seasons. Sun shines, grass grows, birds fly, and he and Kagome protect each other.

You're closing in on us; I can sense the jewel now, not just you. How do you want to do this?

"We're getting close," Inuyasha announced. "Stay low and stay quiet."

Is Kagura holding on to you?

No, I'm sitting behind her now. But she keeps glaring over her shoulder at me

They were getting quite close to the shadow in the mountainside, and Inuyasha could now make out the silhouette of the castle.

Inuyasha paused, refocusing on the clouds. As soon as the cloud cover passed for just a moment, his eyes were drawn right to Kagome's figure on the back end of the feather, a good ways above and a bit ahead of them.

"Sango," he hummed, voice soft but laced with a venomous determination. He nodded up at the shape floating overhead. "As soon as Kagome drops down, be ready to knock that witch out of the sky. I'll give Kagome some extra hang time, but try and catch us before we get too cozy with the ground, got it?"

Sango nodded, adjusting her weapon and letting Miroku and Shippo lean out of the way. Inuyasha brought his feet up, crouching on Kirara's hindquarters. Giving everyone a glance over, Inuyasha looked back up at the feather, catching Kagome looking at him.

As soon as she looks away from you again, fall back off the feather.

There was nearly a breath of hesitation before he felt the confirmation/understanding/trust in response, and he didn't even have time to enjoy the rush of warmth he felt in response before her voice in his head muttered here goes nothing.

He saw Kagura shift, and right on cue, Kagome quietly leaned back and slipped right off the tip of the feather.

Inuyasha leapt lightly from Kilala's back, angling himself to his descent aligned with Kagome's. He heard the indignant shriek Kagura gave as she was struck, and felt Kagome's disappointment that she hadn't seen it mirror his own.

When his arms came up around her, he was caught off guard again when she let off a wave of safety/security/affection/knewyou'dbehere while smiling up at him

"Hey you," she greeted, breathless and almost laughing.

"Hey yourself," he shot back, ignoring the fact that he was definitely red in the face and there was no way she'd missed it. He looked around for Kilala, who circled around to catch them once Sango had caught her hiraikotsu. Landing easily at the base of her tails, Inuyasha helped Kagome to sit before doing so himself.

"So, do we stay or do we go?" Sango asked, looking back at them while pulling the strap of her weapon over her shoulder. "I'm guessing we only have a few minutes before the saimyosho or another incarnation shows up. Do we go to them or let them come to us?

"Put me down for a tactical retreat. We spent all morning tracking that demon and didn't even have breakfast," Shippo whined, crawling down Miroku's back and into Kagome's lap. "This is probably just another fakey illusion castle with another fakey puppet Naraku. And if it's not, it'll still be there after we eat and rest."

"Regardless of whether it's real or not, we should take a step back and come up with a plan. Kagura wanted me at the castle, and said Naraku had plans for me. Even if it's just a puppet, no plan of his means anything good for us," Kagome pointed out. Looking back at Inuyasha, she offered a smile, pushing out reminders for food/rest/comfort toward him. Ears flattening, he sighed, crossing his arms.

"The edge of the forest. Away from any villages. If we're gonna get attacked, last thing we need is a bunch of humans caught in the crossfire."

Kagome's smile softened, and she leaned back against him. An hour or two to rest, and maybe play with this connection a little more before diving back into danger.

~~~~~~

Shippo, stop kicking the fourth wall, you're gonna break it.

If I wanted to get this posted tonight, I had to cut it off here. But Kagome being able to connect with people through purified jewel shards the way Naraku does tainted ones is something I've idly played with before, and I might touch on it again just for funsies.

[snoozingredpanda]

i wanna dick down benni and have her sobbing 😵‍💫

I— same tbh

—

Benni Winters — Ecstasy

Fem!Reader

18+ Please!

Warnings: reader is physically stronger than Benni, NSFW, reader uses a strap on, edging, overstimulation, praise, marking, light choking, use of the title mistress, swearing, no plot just smut

—

• “Please.”

• Your lips curl up into a smirk as you hold Benni back against your chest, her sweaty back pressed to your breasts. She was shaking, hair a mess as her head fell back against your shoulder.

• “Gonna have to do better than that, hm, sweetheart?” You purr, gently bucking your hips up to remind her how deep your cock was in her. Her eyes roll at the slight stimulation.

• “Pl—ease, mistress,” she chokes out, voice cracking cutely.

• “Please, what?” You murmur, dragging your fingertips across her chest, feather touches on her perked, sucked-raw nipples. She flinched slightly, whining as your hand moves to her throat.

• “Fuck me,” she whimpers. “Please, m—mistress.”

• “Why should I do that?” You grin, planning on teasing her a little longer. She lets out another whine, trying to move herself back on your dick, but you easily kept her still, pinching her throat just enough to gain back her attention. “Tell me.”

• “Been g—good,” she whispers, trying to muzzle into your neck, to persuade you to help her out. “Been so good for m—mistress.”

• “Have you?” You ask, gently biting the shell of her ear. All she did was let out a soft cry, nails digging into your thighs.

• “Yes,” she nods, but the hand on her throat doesn’t let go, nor the one holding her arms back.

• You’re so cruel.

• “Yes what?”

• “Y—yes, mistress!” Her lips part, saliva rolling down her chin as you slowly grind your hips up, your fake cock kissing the deepest parts of her. Your lips ravage her already red and purple neck, hand moving from her throat to her chest, holding her weak body up against you.

• “Atta girl,” you murmur in her ear. “That’s a good little whore.”

• Benni didn’t reply as wave after wave of delicious bliss rolled over her. She felt so full, so pleasured, and you were barely moving.

• “Should mistress let you cum?” You whisper in her ear.

• “M—make me cum, please…” She breathes. “Do anything… I’ll do a—anything.”

• “That’s what I like to hear,” you giggle as you let go of her, her limp body falling onto the bed. Quickly, before she could even register the change of position, you pulled her ass up, arching her back in an almost painful-looking way.

• Benni cries out as you snap your hips against her, burying your strap-on into her sopping, abused cunt. Her breath gets caught in her throat, pleas muffled as she pressed her face into the pillows. Her hands claw at the bedsheets, and she’s trying to scramble away, but you hold onto her tight, fingers gripping the fat of her thighs.

• After not being able to cum for hours, the sudden onslaught of pleasure was too much. You were sure the whole dormitory was up listening to your activities, but you didn’t care.

• You were too focused on how well her cunt took your cock.

• As she rushed towards orgasm you could hear her pleasured cries, her mind completely fuzzy and full of bliss. She’s sobbing for you to slow down, but she’d worked so hard for you, you just had to give her a reward~

• As your callous fingers dips down to circle her puffy clit, her vision goes white, her tears wetting the pillows, knuckles paling as she gripped the bedsheets tight.

• She cums painfully hard, her whole body shaking as she fell into a void of ecstasy, her shameless moans muffled by the pillows.

• You fuck her through her climax, watching as she went completely limp, exhausted and pleasured.

• Carefully, you pull out, finally giving her some rest. “Good girl,” you smile, flipping her over to see her fucked-out face, cheeks wet with tears. Her lips were quivering, eyelids fluttering as sleep dared draw near.

• “Now, wasn’t that amazing?” You tease, leaning down to press a kiss to her salty cheek. “Good whores get rewards, don’t they, baby?”

• She slowly nods, not truly processing what she was hearing, too tired to even open her eyes.

• Chuckling, you kissed her again, before attempting to clean up.

• Maybe put down a few towels next time, hm?

[cosmictapestry]

Maximum devastation B25 and C3, if you think they’d work together

25. put a collar on that man

and

3. hand guiding

lmaoooooooo okay you asked for it. you asked for it

warning for *gestures broadly at dream*

this is a loose sequel to the first collar prompt

prompt list here

When Lucienne walks into the room, Lord Morpheus is already there, and he is kneeling naked on the floor, and he has his collar on, and there are tears in his eyes. Lucienne takes a deep, measured breath, and her eyes don't stray from his face. "My lord?"

"Lucienne," he says, his voice scratchy, and he says nothing else.

"Tell me what you need," Lucienne doesn't move or let her eyes wander. They have never done this before, him naked and her fully clothed, have hardly even spoken about it. She doesn't know what he's thinking.

Her lord shifts and swallows and his eyes fall to the floor in something like shame, or deference, or painful desperation. "I need to be yours," and his voice trembles, and his shoulders do, too. "Please."

Lucienne still does not move.

"I need," he grits his teeth, fighting the inevitable tears, his nails biting into his thighs. Lucienne has never seen him quite like this before. "I need to be—nothing else. Only yours. Please."

Lucienne releases a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. And she can see it now, the rigid tension in his frame, the tears that are more pain than anything else. He is Everything, he is God, he is begging to be hers. "Alright," she murmurs, and it comes out distorted, wrecked, overwhelmed. "Relax, my love."

He does, and he sobs, his shoulders hunching forward. Lucienne approaches him slowly, and he does not raise his head to look at her. "Morpheus," she says, very quiet, and she waits until he tips his head back to see her, all the reeling painful confusion of the collective unconscious in watery blue eyes. "We need to talk about this."

His face crumbles a little, his hands spasming and drawing red lines across his skin. "I know I am safe with you," he says, like this is something he must beg for. "I know you will not let me disappear, I know you will not hurt me—"

"I am glad you know that," Lucienne interrupts, stern now. "But I cannot read your mind, my friend, and I refuse to hurt you accidentally." This quiets him, steadies him. Lucienne kneels in front of him and his eyes never leave hers. "I am going to tell you what we will do. You are going to listen to me. Alright?"

His expression has grown hazy, the way it does when he slips into this space with her, their own little realm. He inclines his head, syrupy slow. "Yes," he says before she can tell him to use his words.

"Very good," Lucienne tells him, and he shivers. "I am going to touch your hand now," she says, and with his understanding nod she lays her fingertips feather-light on the back of his hand. He is wound so tightly in anticipation he nearly moans. "You are going to take my hand, and you are going to guide it where you need me to touch you."

Lord Morpheus frowns at this with apparent displeasure, but he does not argue. He understands, at least, how much worse she could make this if she did the wrong thing. "Okay," he agrees. He swallows hard. "But—would you kiss me? Please?"

Lucienne blinks against her tears. "Yes, love, of course," and she leans forward, and she brushes her lips against his. He leans into her, a relieved little breath like a sob between them, his lips soft and salty and trembling. "You're alright," she whispers, and she leans her forehead into his.

Her lord takes her hand then, holds it in both his own, cold and shaking. He traces her fingers and her palm and he squeezes, just feeling her, until he lifts her hand to his face and presses it to his cheek.

Lucienne holds his face the way she's been directed, and his tears spill down over her thumb, and she leans back to look at him, his fear and agony and beauty. "Very good," she says again, and he is fully hard, straining in his lap. "Sweet thing."

He nods, frantic, vehement, and his jaw clenches. His hands slide down her forearm, ghost over her wrists, feeling. He draws her hand down, then, has her touch the jut of his jaw, the straining tendon of his neck, the sleek leather of the collar. His lips are parted, his eyes closed, his hips rocking nearly imperceptibly. "Yours," he croaks.

She slides one finger under the collar to pull it a little tighter, the way he's asking her to. His eyelids flutter, a rushed little breath escapes him. To her surprise, he speaks again, tearfully. "You are good to me," he says. "You are—so kind."

Lucienne shushes him before he can make her cry. "None of that, now," she whispers. "How do you feel?"

"Yours," he slurs, and he draws her hand down along the ridge of his collarbone while he trembles and sweats. "Feel like yours."

Despite her best efforts there are tears running down her face and dripping onto her trousers. She doesn't say anything, just watches the slide of dark skin over white as he pulls her hand down the center of his heaving chest, down the flat plane of his belly, down to where he is hard and aching.

His eyes are open again—and what a picture the two of them must make, how overwrought they must look with their matching tears. Lucienne watches his face while he wraps her hand around him, watches the sharp little sob that catches on his collar, the knitting of his brows. "Just like that," she tells him, feels the shift of silky skin as he works her hand up and down, loose and slow. "Very good."

Her lord moans, high and breathy, and his expression contorts in sudden anguish, and he leans forward to hide his face in the crook of her neck. The hand not guiding hers takes hold of her other one and brings it up to run through his hair. Lucienne takes it in stride, keeps petting him after his hand drops back to his side, keeps stroking him, guided by the big hand over her own.

He trembles and moans and leaks in her grip, and his tears soak into the collar of her jacket. When he spends it is with a series of ecstatic, tearful gasps, spilling and pulsing in her hand. His body jerks through it and shakes for long after, and he pants and he sobs, "Lucienne."

Lucienne holds him the way he needs in the aftermath, and she whispers to him, and she cries for him, because after all of this the pain will not be gone and he will not be free and she will not have saved him—but he kisses her like she has.

[believemetheodore]

Northern Attitude pt. 5 (complete)

Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton

Divorce is hard. it doesn't matter if you're the one who got left, or you're the one doing the leaving. When an unexpected blizzard puts a dangerous twist in Ted's hiking adventures he's rescued by an axe-wielding, lumber-chopping, blonde angel. Oh, and there's only one bed.

Warnings: divorce mentions, mentions of Ted's dad, mentions of Rebecca's dad, implied sex, let me know if you want me to add anything.

Fic navigation

Ted works on instinct more than thought with Rebecca. He feels free as they fall into bed together again. He can't say he's entirely sure about what he's doing, but he's positive that if this is the last time he gets to hold her like this he's going to remember it. Determined to live this moment in such a way that it won't ever feel like a loss. 

A part of him whispers at the back of his mind, scratching at the door and hoping to squirm its way into his conscious mind. A fear of loss, a fear of being too much. He’s terrified by how much he wants her.

Whatever happens, he won't allow regret or grief to touch it; he won’t let his fears taint this memory. He’s moving forward. He’s doing better. For himself-- for Rebecca too. She deserves better than she’s been given. She deserves, attention, support, love, and affection undivided and without conditions; and if this slice of time is all he has to give her that? He’ll be damned if she receives anything less. 

In the morning they aren't much more than a tangle of limbs. His mind is awake but his body is tired and entirely comfortable being held hostage by Rebecca's arms and legs. Ted’s eyes follow the paths of Raindrops sliding down the window, silently refereeing races between them. He keeps score of their wins and losses, drawing invisible tally marks across the skin of her back. She burrows further, under the covers, and impossibly closer to him. Blindly seeking heat in her sleep. 

He measures his pulse, convinced that his heart might leap right out of his chest. He calms his own breathing, syncing it with Rebecca’s deep, slow, inhales and exhales. The memory of the tide lapping at the sand during trips to the beach fills his mind, he hears his own laughter, Henry’s face bright with a joy that only children can manage to carry. 

In his mind, he counts the shells they collected that day, the same way the two of them count sheep to fall asleep. And somewhere in that inventory, Ted finds his eyes drifting shut again. 

Her fingertips tickle, brushing nonsensical shapes and letters across his chest and collarbones. Her lips feather light in their mission to scatter kisses. Ted doesn't bother to stop his growing smile, how could he in this private bubble of incandescent freedom. 

His left hand catches hers, halting its journey south. He swears he feels her pouting, but she laughs when he takes his turn doling out kisses, starting with the pads of her captured fingers. A gentle scratch of his mustache across her skin results in barely contain giggles from Rebecca. Ted revels in her amusement. Honoured to be privy to so many parts of her personhood; having seen her chop and lug wood, care for him so diligently when he was only an injured stranger, and now melt against his side.

“I have a son,” he blurts out.

It's not a confession. It wasn't a secret. But the words feel like they've shaken something. Shifted the tide. Four words that carry with them all his hopes and dreams, and all his biggest fears. A Pandora's box sorta situation. 

“I have a goddaughter,” Rebecca says, she smiles but Ted can see the complexity of something more in her eyes, the urge to say more lingering on her tongue. He wants to listen.  

“What's her name?” Ted ventures when the silence between them threatens to deafen.

“Nora. She'll be thirteen this year,” Rebecca answers without hesitation, “what's your son’s name?”

“Henry. He just turned nine,” Ted's smile grows again, and he rolls over to face Rebecca, “he's getting so big--sometimes I worry I'm going to blink and he'll be off to college. And while I'm sure he's going to do great things, I wish I could keep him a kid forever”.

There's what looks to be a pinch of hurt across Rebecca's face, but she takes a deep breath, and Ted can feel her long limbs stretching out beneath the sheets. It reminds him of a lion puffing up its main, an attempt to appear bigger, more confident. He decides that the silent pep talk suits her. She's definitely a lion. 

“I only managed to get reacquainted with Nora last year,” Rebecca explains, “she was six the last time I saw her-- I let Rupert isolate me, and then I isolated myself further. It wasn't fair to my friend Sassy. It certainly wasn't fair to Nora”.

“Doesn't sound like it was very fair to you either,” Ted all but whispers.

Ted’s learned to realize that Rebecca is far harder on herself than she is on anyone else. He can see it in the way she takes on half the blame for emotional aches and pains he’s sure are only Rupert’s. He wonders who taught her to bare that blame. 

Rebecca’s silence feels like enough of a response to his statement; proof that there’s more than what meets the eye when it comes to the psyche of the woman in front of him. Without words, he understands why she seems to stuff it all away behind walls and fences, but he feels them crumbling when she lets her eyes meet his again. 

“For what it’s worth,” Ted speaks, his fingers resuming their invisible artwork up, and down her spine, “I’d bet you’re a fantastic godmother. And I’m still holding out hope that you might be a magical one at that.”

She laughs, so he continues, “How neat would that be if this whole time you’ve been out in the woods doing fairy-godmother things? Turning chipmunks into coachmen, and pinecones into carriages?” The sound is infectious, and his own chuckles start as just a smirk growing as loud and as silly as hers by the time he’s run out of fairy-godmother activities to add to the ridiculous list of a skills. 

The passing of two days feels like two hours, and Ted holds off until the last possible minute to say his goodbyes. He knows the roads will be dark for his drive home, but he couldn’t care less. Sunset rests at the top of the trees and they stand leaning against his car, in the gravel parkinglot. 

“You should text me,” Rebecca says, pulling her flannel jacket closer around her. “I thought you didn’t get cell reception out here?” “We got cell towers put in. Turns out campers have a habit of falling off trails, and getting lost. If they have a signal it’s easier to get help… and hopefully, it makes the quiet seasons less lonely for us who live here year-round”. 

“I feel like you might be flirtin’ with me”. 

“And so what if I am?” “You might regret it. I can be quite the texter-- might call and chat your ear off as well,” Ted shrugs his cheeks aching from smiling. “I’ve had worse company,” she smirks, “text me anytime”. 

He kisses her before he leaves, and the feel of her hand on his cheek lingers, and his phone feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket with the urge to text her as soon as he gets to his first rest stop. 

At home, his bed feels too big. Too empty. Too cold. He still hasn’t texted her, and he decides to wait until the morning. He knows she was genuine in her invitation to message her anytime, but the fear of being too much still sticks in his throat. His chest feels tight, and he wills his eyes shut, convincing himself to count sheep for another night. 

Ted remembers believing that time moved faster when he was asleep. Six years old and bundled up in his coziest Christmas pyjamas, asking to be tucked into bed at 4:00 in the afternoon so that Christmas morning would come quicker. He wishes now that he’d been correct in his childhood reasoning, that shutting his eyes tonight might bring the next time he could see Rebecca any closer. 

His phone lights up on the nightstand. Goodnight, Ted. I hope you got home safe. 💜

The last few weeks of spring bring late-night conversations, and daily good-morning texts. He sends puns, and pictures of some of the art Henry makes at school. She shows him what she’s made for dinner and daily updates about the nest of baby bunnies near her cabin. He listens to her plans for the park’s summer programming and supports her new tree planting initiative, volunteering himself and Henry to plant saplings in the summertime. Nora comes to visit her and is happy to be put to work chopping wood, and scouting with her godmother. 

The summer sun is hot and leaves Ted’s cheeks, and shoulders tinted pink. The lake is a refreshing break after a long hike, and Henry insists on learning how to swim on this trip. Rebecca cheers from the narrow pebbled beach, her wide-brimmed hat protecting her from the light; and she’s positively glowing in her tank top and denim shorts. 

“I’m gonna teach you how to swim the same way my dad taught me, alright kiddo?” Henry nods eagerly, holding tight to his father’s arm. 

The water is shallow enough for Ted to stand, and deep enough for Henry to learn to kick and puddle. With the support of Ted’s arms under his chest and belly Henry gets used to going through the motions and gets comfortable floating. 

“Do you trust me?”Ted asks. 

“Of course,” Henry says and Ted slowly lowers his arms until the boy is swimming entirely on his own. 

“Dad, I’m doing it! Dad look!” Henry shouts swimming a lap around Ted. “I see ya bud! I see you,” Ted promises as Rebecca films the moment for him to keep forever. 

The fall rolls in heavy, all dark clouds and rainfall, the cold seeping in. September feels like a punch to the gut. 

He tells her about his father. About the day he lost him, the gap in his heart he’s never been able to fill back in, and the shattering sound he’ll never be able to forget. Rebecca tells him about her father, and the day she caught him cheating on her mother. She tells him about the constant suspicion she’s harboured since that night, and the anger she wishes she could shake. 

They talk about the odds, how the same date could’ve been so life-altering for both of them, albeit in different ways; what are the odds they found each other? They fall asleep miles apart, sharing their beds with cellphones propped up on pillows, the sound of the other’s breathing lulling them to sleep. 

November comes with a new wave of daily autumnal-themed puns from Ted. 

He boasts about his ma’s pumpkin pie and Rebecca sends photos of the trees changing colours.

“My work contract is expiring soon,” Ted tells her one night. “Oh, do you have the option to renew?” “I do. But I’m not sure I want to. I’m thinking about taking some time off. Look for something new”. “That sounds lovely. Are you going to travel?” Rebecca asks. “Sorta. There’s this park I’ve grown quite fond of, I was going to inquire about renting a cabin…You don’t know anyone who might have a place I can crash at do ya?” 

“I might know a place,” she teases.

“What did the acorn say to the ground?” Ted asks, his arms winding around her while she makes her morning tea. “What are you on about?” she’s still half asleep, and he buries his face against the side of her neck, leaving a kiss behind. 

“I’m falling for you”. 

Ted watches her set down her mug, turning to just stare at him. Silent. Blinking. And then, “Oh my god! You arse! Of course, you'd be the first to say I love you with some folksy little pun!” She smiles despite herself, his face held in both her hands, “you're incorrigible!” 

He hears the swing of her axe before he sees her. The swoosh of air before the echoed thud as it collides with the tree trunk. The tree she’s picked out is perfect. A smidge under six feet, with full brunches. The best Christmas tree he’s ever seen, though Henry would remind him that he’s prone to saying that about every Christmas tree they’ve ever had. 

“Can I help?” He asks as he gets closer. She pauses, lowering the axe and stretching her back, “I’m just about done here. But you could make me a cup of tea”. She grins, accepting his kiss. 

“That, I can absolutely manage,” Ted promises before adding, “I made you biscuits”. “I thought you were waiting for Henry to get here?” “Ah, but those will be Christmas biscuits”. “And the ones you made today-- on Christmas eve, they aren’t?” “Nope!” Her brows furrow, as she tries to understand him, “What are they then?” “These? These are ‘just because’ biscuits,” he shrugs. She can’t help her smile at his antics, “Just because?” “Just because I love you”.

[yoichichi]

Their Favorite Place to Kiss You

warning(s): none

a/n: I just feel like they needed something sweet damnit :( i love them that’s all - my inbox is always open :)

characters: mikasa, armin, levi, hange, eren, connie, sasha, jean, zeke, & reiner

Mikasa

Your eyelids

Mikasa has always been on the more soft spoken side when it comes to intimacy, sometimes she finds it’s even hard to reach out and hold your hand. She often opts for brushing her knuckles against yours and just hopes you get the gist. But when you’re asleep it’s different. She gets to reach out and run her fingertips delicately across your face and it gives her the perfect opportunity to lean in and press feather light kisses to your closed eyes, and she always hopes her love is strong enough that her affection communicates into your dreams. Please give this shy angel all the love :,(((

Armin

Your cheek

It’s just the purest way for him to show you he’s listening and cares really :(! You’ll be on a date and he’s holding your hand and he’ll just lean on over and place a little smooch there while he’s got this little smile going on, before he tells you to continue with your story, “I’m listening sweetie.” It was also the way he hyped himself up to be more physical with you as the relationship progressed. Baby boy was a little nervous for your first kiss so he worked himself up to it by acting all sly and leaving the gentlest of gentlest kisses on your soft skin. He also loves kissing any birth marks or freckles you may have on your face, they just draw his attention so much and he finds them so cute he has to leave some sort of appreciation for them. And now, kissing your cheek/face has just become his favorite place to leave hellos and goodbyes. It’s even better when he can feel your cheeks get plump from the way you smile when he leaves a kiss.

Levi

Your hands

He has a nasty habit of overworking himself and pushing his body to the limits physically. Staying up late and depriving himself of sleep, hunching over a desk and straining his eyes from all the reading and work, getting frequent headaches from how strong his focus has been - usually meaning he’s forgotten to drink enough water that day. It all takes toll in his tired eyes and the sore muscles in his body, the ones most tense in his upper back. The only good that comes from this is how easy it makes it to strip him away from work if need be. Just running your hands up his back to knead at the muscle between his shoulders and neck has him sighing and closing his eyes, reaching a hand up to grab onto one of yours and place thankful kisses along your knuckles. Now you’ve successfully convinced him to lay in bed while you softly run your hands over his face and body, only stopping when he grabs them to place more kisses. He hopes it’s good enough at showing you how grateful he is for you in his life <3

Hange

Your forehead

They call you their little stroke of genius always and this just kind of seals the deal for them teehee. Whenever they get any kind of idea - good, bad, small, big, dangerous, you name it - they’re placing a kiss on your forehead and hollering before they run off to execute said idea. You have an idea and they’re praising you on how smart you are while they kiss you repeatedly there, kind of like they’re your older, invasive relative or something. It’s also their favorite way to greet you whether it’s them coming home or waking you up first thing in the morning. It’s just always the perfect blank space for them to lay their love on you and get your attention. And if you have a big forehead they’ll mention how it gives them more space to love up on hehehehehe <3

Eren

Your neck

Cuddly boy, cuddly boy! He loves bothering you and trying to get your attention, and he finds it’s the easiest when he has his face buried in your neck and leaving wet kisses there. He also finds it’s such a versatile place for affection. If he’s feeling clingy, he can come up from behind and wrap his arms around you while he whines into the crook of your neck demanding you pay attention to him by kissing or blowing raspberries there until you’re giggling and giving in. When he’s sleepy and cuddling he can stretch his face up to whisper into your neck about heading to bed and finalizing his wish with a soft peck - barely even a kiss. If he’s in a mood it’s certainly an easy place to convince you to join him. And if he’s just feeling soft - which is almost always - he has no problem in smiling into that spot between your neck and shoulder and giving little love bites or any form of attention there. He’s just a clingy boy and it’s the easiest way to get what he wants - and hide how red his face can get from you.

Connie

The top of your head

It’s a funny thing he’s started doing in passing moments that’s just made his days so much brighter. You two will be bustling about in the kitchen cooking dinner and when you pass by him he just has to grab the sides of your face and reach over to kiss the top of your head with an obnoxious mwah to top it off. Or if he’s dropping you off he obviously has to reach over the middle console to pull your head aggressively towards him to leave another silly kiss - he likes it even more when you act “annoyed” with him over it. But it isn’t always silly, he finds it a really good way to let you know he hasn’t forgotten about how sweet you are to him. You’ll be laying in his chest while you two watch a movie and he’ll lean down to leave a long and quiet kiss into your hair, reminding you of his fondness.

Sasha

Your lips

It’s such a simple but sweet place to kiss! Nothing makes her happier than leaning in and giving a quick peck before she’s off to her busy day, her nose usually bumping into yours cause she’s being a little too quick about it, but it never fails to make you all giddy when you feel her smile against your lips. It’s also her favorite time to kiss you after you’ve had something sweet. First she just wiped the corner of your mouth with her thumb to collect the sticky syrup that collected there from your breakfast a few minutes prior, sucking the sweetness from the finger and humming to herself. Next it was replaced with a simple kiss to the corner of your mouth or wherever you had yet to clean up a crumb - sometimes her tongue would innocently dart out to get a better taste. Finally it became just a regular sweet kiss, even happier than before, when she could still taste the honey in your mouth from the biscuits you’d made for lunch.

Jean

Your shoulders

He adores running his hands up and down your arms and it just goes so well with leaving a few light kisses at the top of your shoulders. He also feels like it’s such an intimate part of the body in that for him to place a kiss there means he’s physically close to you in a way he treasures immensely. Like when he embraces you in a long, warm hug for whatever reason, getting to bend down and leave a long sensual kiss placed there feels so serious to him, even if you’re ticklish and it has you giggling. There’s just something so serene for him when he’s able to feel that calm and close with you that he always finds himself compelled to lean over and even crane his neck to remind you how special you are to him with a shoulder kiss. What can I say, he just loves em!

Zeke

Your thighs

It seems like he’s ALWAYS passed out with his head in your lap. He says it’s not his fault but yours because you’re the one who always lets him rest his head there when he’s home from work, running your fingers through his hair. How is he supposed to stay awake when you’re doing that? And don’t get him started on how you run your thumb over his brow bone and down the bridge of his nose before going back up and starting again. It’s like you want him to take a nap on your thighs! Which you kinda do cause it’s the only time you get to see this mf relaxed and quiet in your presence if he’s not reading or doing some other nerd shit. He always makes sure to press sweet kisses to the tops of them when he wakes up, along with chuckling and tickling you with his scruff. He also likes to give you massages when you’re laying in bed which always somehow leads to him rubbing your calf’s while he closes his eyes and gently kisses the soft skin on your inner thighs. He’s just a sucker for em and you can’t tell me otherwise!

Reiner

Your back

Oh this guy :( He’s a chronic big spoon, no matter your size. It’s just always so soothing for you to be in his arms with his hands resting at your tummy, sometimes absentmindedly kneading the soft skin there as he falls asleep. But he never stays that way, he ends up naturally scooting down throughout the night so when he wakes up his face is nuzzled into the middle of your back with his arms wrapped even tighter around your midsection. You can always tell when he wakes up by the soft flutter of his eyelashes against your skin and the tightening squeeze on your torso, followed by soft open mouth kisses up your spine and all over your shoulder blades. Of course the way he whispers, “hi”, into your ear once he’s reached the top let’s you know, too.

this made me so unbelievably soft omfg. I just felt like we needed some soft content and I’ve been missing them :((( if you guys like this and would want it I can make a pt.2 with some characters I didnt include in this one :)! Jus lemme know if it’s something you guys would want! Anyways I hope you enjoy, I love talking to you in my inbox, and if you’d like to be on a taglist jus lemme know and I’ll happily oblige :)

requests are open

-🐇out

taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon @peachysimp @sofi-yeager

[mischievoushiddleston]

Dirty Interview

Plot: Y/N has an interview with other actors, including Tom Hiddleston. But suddenly Tom starts whispering his dirty fantasies to her again and again. However, Tom doesn't know that she has never had sex...

Words: 1.6 K

Warnings: Smut, Loss of Virginity

Masterlist here!

"So what can you reveal about your new film?" The reporter asked curiously. Tom leaned back and put his arm on the backrest behind Y/N.

"Ehehe, I'm afraid we can't reveal too much." Tom laughed and Y/N nervously brushed a strand of Y/H/C hair behind her ear. The reporter turned to Sebastian Stan and tried to elicit more from him about the upcoming film. Tom leaned closer to Y/N's ear.

"You look stunning today." Y/N merely nodded appreciatively with a slight smile and took a sip of her water. "But I think without clothes completely naked you would look a lot better." Y/N swallows as she heard Tom's words. Although they both flirted with each other a little from time to time on the set, it never went beyond that. Tom gently stroked the skin of her upper arm and Y/N got goosebumps. "I would push you against a wall first and your leg over my shoulder before I would stick my tongue in your tight pussy. Then I would take your clit in my mouth and suck it while fucking you with my long fingers. After your first orgasm, I will force you onto your knees before fucking your mouth with my cock and filling your mouth with my cum. " Her cheeks began to burn red and her panties became unpleasantly wet. Meanwhile, the reporter talked to Paul and Elizabeth about their roles and their relationship in the movie.

"T-Tom..." Y/N stammered softly.

"Oh yes, you would moan my name loudly over and over again, begging for my cock until you were hoarse. Then I'll tie you to the bed with my tie and put your legs over my shoulders to thrust deeper into your pussy before filling you with my rock hard cock." Y/N slid around uncomfortably on the sofa, trying as best he could to ignore Tom and listen to the interview.

"So Y/N, what can you tell us about your role?" The reporter asked her and Tom leaned away from her, back on the sofa. His hand gently stroked her back, not drawing attention to himself.

"There's not much I'm allowed to tell, unfortunately, but my character is definitely something fans have been waiting for for a long time." The reporter and Y/N talked some more before she turned back to the other actors. Tom leaned in to Y/N again.

"And as soon as you reach your orgasm, I'm going to turn you over and fuck your sweet pussy from behind..."

"So I thank you for the interview and I'm really excited to see the movie." The reporter interrupted Tom And shook the actors' hands in farewell.

"Do you guys want to go out for a drink?" Sebastian asked the group.

"I...um am really really tired and will go home." Y/N quickly said goodbye and fled from Tom's side to her car. She quickly drove home, trying to comprehend what had just happened to Tom. Y/N threw her bag and car keys on the cabinet in the hallway and went to her kitchen. She grabbed a glass and poured water into it. A ring at her door pulled her out of her thoughts and Y/N set the glass on the counter before hurrying to the door. The ringing was now joined by a loud knock as well. "Coming!" Y/N opened the door and Tom stepped inside before she had a chance to slam the door in his face. Tom closed the door without taking his eyes off her.

"Before you say anything, I'm sorry if I crossed a line."

"You...you didn't cross a line. I...I liked it." Y/N admitted sheepishly. Tom now looked at her in confusion, having interpreted her sudden flight differently.

"So what's the problem then? A boyfriend? Husband?" He stepped closer to Y/N and she pressed against the wall, trying to create space between herself and him.

"It's embarrassing..." Tom looked at her questioningly, wanting Y/N to keep talking. He leaned toward her with both hands on the sides of the wall next to her head. "I've...I've never had sex before." Y/N looked sheepishly at both of their feet. Tom put a finger under her chin and lifted it up so she met his eyes. A wild and hungry look was in his blue eyes before his lips were on hers. Tom pulled her body close to his as he kissed her passionately.

"It's not embarrassing." Tom said as he pulled away from her slightly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll wait for you and take it slow if that's what you want." Y/N quickly shook her head.

"No, I want that, I want you." Tom kissed her again. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and explored. He pulled back slightly from Y/N and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Are you one hundred percent sure?" Tom asked again. Y/N merely nodded, not trusting her words. He gently lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his hips. Tom walked up the stairs with her and purposefully to her bedroom, as he and the other actors in the movie had been frequent visitors to her house. As soon as the couple arrived in her room, Ton turned her around and pushed her against the wall. Y/N could feel his erection against her and moaned. He kissed down her neck and nibbled on her collarbone. Tom disengaged himself from the wall with her and continued to the bed. He carefully laid her on the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. Tom crawled up behind Y/N and helped Y/N take off her shirt. He dropped it carelessly next to the bed. His hand slid behind her and unclasped her bra. Tom leaned down and sucked on her nipple. Y/N's hands tangled in his reddish blond hair.

"Oh Tom..." Y/N moaned. He looked up and kissed her with a smile on his lips. Tom kissed feather lightly down a path and stopped at the waistband of her pants. He looked into her eyes and silently asked for her consent. Slowly he unzipped her pants and pulled her pants including panties off over her legs. Tom looked at her hungrily and bent down to her pussy. He began to lick her along the crease of her pussy and stuck his tongue into her tight, potty hole. Y/N pulled him by his hair and moaned his name over and over. He repeated it over and over, thrusting his tongue in and out of her pussy. Tom sucked her clit and gently inserted his middle finger into her pussy and slowly began to pump. After a while he added his index finger and now pushed two fingers into her pussy. He felt her tighten around his fingers and sucked harder on her clit. Y/N shook uncontrollably and stiffened as she felt a real orgasm wash over her body for the first time. It was unlike anything else she had ever felt. The bed moved beneath her and Y/N opened her eyes to see what Tom was doing. He was standing next to the bed unbuckling his belt. Quickly his zipper was unzipped and he slid his pants and boxers down. Tom sat back down between her legs and gently laid his body on top of hers. His hands pulled her legs up and angled them. One hand held her leg and his other hand took his cock in his hand and guided it to the entrance of her pussy. Tom took her hand in his and held it together next to her head. He kept eye contact as he slowly pushed into her. When half of his cock was in her pussy, he pulled out almost completely before taking her virginity in one quick thrust. They both gasped and Tom rested his forehead against hers.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked anxiously. Y/N smiled lovingly at him.

"I'm more than fine." Y/N lifted her hips, showing that he could move. Tom slowly began to pull out of her before thrusting back into her pussy. Soon the slow pace was no longer enough and he increased the speed of his cock's thrusts. Loud moans filled the room as Tom thrust fast and hard into her. Y/N's nails scratched against his back. Tom released his hand from her leg and began rubbing her clit. Y/N began to tremble again and knew she was going to come at any moment. Tom began to pulse inside her as well. He began to rub her clit faster.

"Come with me, Y/N." Tom moaned. After more thrusts, they both came at the same time. Tom's cum flowed into her pussy. Both of them were breathing heavily. Tom pulled out of her and there was a little blood from Y/N on his cock. He got up from the bed and went into the bathroom. After a few seconds, he returned with a washcloth and wiped clean the mess between her thighs. Heedlessly he was the washcloth next to the bed and lay back down at Y/N's side. Tom pulled her to him and she laid her head on his chest. With her finger she drew small invisible circles on his chest. "Thank you." Tom said briefly, Y/N looked up questioningly. "For giving me the honor of being your first." Y/N smiled as she slowly fell asleep. "I love you, Y/N" He said even though he was sure she couldn't hear him anymore.

"I love you too, Tom." Murmured Y/N softly and Tom smiled before falling asleep as well.

Taglist is open! @fa-me @smoke-and-sunsets @everybitch

[keilemlucent]

(nsfw) ✧ (dark content warnings) ✧  (minors do not interact) 

hawks | takami keigo x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere, vomit due to illness, delusion, reader is definitely not mentally well, brief description of injury, hawks is Not nice in this, reader has difficulty eating, 

a/n: uhhh it’s 2am, time to post dark drabble lol!! i love like.... deep yandere stuff. when darling’s already been In It for awhile and worn down. mwah. chefs. kiss. anyways, here’s my take!

You want to know what rain tastes like.

Is it different than water from the tap? You had asked him one day. He chuckled but didn’t give you an answer. Just an easy deflection, something unrelated to pull your mind from the outside. 

It is easier this way. 

It’s so much easier to draw the curtains in the morning. Damn the sun, damn the light— You can take vitamin D supplements and pretend you don’t mind how dark the apartment is no matter the time of day.

It’s easier to ignore the multiple locks (seven. you count them sometimes to pass the time) that are bolted into the door. The time it takes him to open them with all their tumbling gears and thundering clicks is the preamble to his comings and goings.

You know to rise from your damn-near sacred spot on the couch to greet him. You go to him with a kiss on his cheek, and to give him hug so hard, it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s from the strain of your arms around his, or the pressure of his embrace around you. You don’t particularly mind either way. It’s the reminder you need that as empty and dark as the apartment is, he’ll always return.

Always.

You lock your hands behind his back, clasped below his wings. Routinely, you bury your face in his chest while he sways you. He asks about your day, but he isn’t listening. You don’t think so, but you don’t mind. Nothing you say means much, and every day is the same. You sit on the couch and stare at the floor. The walls. The ceiling if you’re feeling more adventurous.  

You stopped watching TV alone months ago. No matter what you watched on Keigo’s big, sleek television, it was just a reminder. An awful, unavoidable reminder that the world is quite large, and you weren’t apart of it.

You couldn’t be. You were locked in place— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — in the little apartment. Wasting away, as much as you tried not to.

...

“You need to eat, baby,” Keigo coax. He holds a deep spoonful of soup to your lips. It smells divine, like chives and cream. “Just a little. For me?”

‘For me.’

Your inability to stomach anything is his problem, just as much as it is yours. That’s just a fact.

“I don’t want to get sick again,” You squeeze your hands. There is a semblance of comfort in the action as Keigo inspects you. Searching.

It isn’t a lie. Your stomach growls and rolls, and it has been all day. Keigo has started to always leave ample leftovers in the fridge in the case you’d actually want to eat them. And you do. Sometimes, you even try! Really try. But the end result is always the same. Your head ends up dangling over the bowl of your toilet while you wretch and writhe. 

Acid stings your throat for hours. 

Despite Keigo’s... previous treatment, he seems genuinely concerned about this development. You’re hardly able to keep anything down, despite being well otherwise.

(You’re so unwell and have been for so long, he can’t begin to see it. The bruises are perpetual. The scars that you didn’t have a year ago are fixtures he can’t remember you without. The constant tremble you carry is from the drafty apartment, not from the deeply instilled fear you carry. The one he had branded (literally) onto you. Into you.)

(Fucker.)

You shake the thought off and open your mouth and accept the bite. And Keigo, bless his heart, is sweet enough to not shove the spoon to the back of your throat. He lets you suck the soup from it, quietly praising your work.

You manage to eat half the bowl before shaking your head, tummy already twisting in the worst, most familiar way.

Keigo gives you pills then. Four of them, all slightly different colors and shapes. You don’t know what they do, and you knew better than to ask (you’d gotten slapped across the face the first and only time you tried.) 

The fourth pill is new, and Keigo, graciously, tells you that it’s for the nausea. That a special doctor is helping him help you. Isn’t that wonderful?

You’re so, so lucky.

 (You hurl the next morning once the meds wear off. Your hands shake and your slam your fist into your temples. Begging. You’re not sure to who. Maybe to yourself. Your body. Crying for your wretched form to just stop hurting you. If you weren’t sick, things would be better.

Maybe, you’re begging Keigo. For help. To make it stop. To take care of you and coo that things will be fine as things are so completely not find that you can’t comprehend it. But he is the one who decides when you hurt. Shouldn’t he be able to make this stop?

Maybe you’re begging him to unlatch those — one, two, three, four, five, six— seven locks so you could dash into the world. Scream at the first person you see that beloved, pro-hero Hawks is so beyond deranged and fucked up. Maybe no civilian would believe you. But you were the evidence. You bore the slashes of his feathers. The perpetual imprint of his fingers on hips and thighs. You even had a brand on the bottom of your foot. K-E-I-G-O.

Maybe, you’re begging to whatever god you once believed in to kill you. You don’t care about the means. Be it your hand, or Keigo’s, or random chance.)

 You spew into the murky water and try to forget.

...

Keigo’s special doctor comes by. You see the two exchange hands by the door when she first arrives. A flash of bills and coins. Paid off, part of you perks up. The doctor won’t talk about Hawks’ little captive. You’re sure it’s a handsome amount, based on the neutrality of her expression as she takes you in.

To care so little about something like you is hardly a surprise.

She examines you, collects some blood and other samples. Prescribes a few more medicines that have long and complicated names that are hard to pronounce. You try to forget them. You’re happy to be quiet. Sit next to Keigo while he wraps a wing around you and rubs your back in little circles. He’s warm and good, unlike the rot in your stomach.

 Keigo praises you once she leaves, wrapping you up in him, scarlet feathers and all. Kisses your cheeks, telling you how well you did. How you didn’t falter, didn’t scream, didn’t let her touch you too much. How you were so perfect for him. You deserve a reward! 

He treats you to fresh sheets and more kisses. The kind that feels like how lovers are supposed to kiss. There isn’t too much teeth or tongue, just slow, open-mouthed pressing that makes your tummy flutter in a good way (for once.)

“Isn’t this nice?” Keigo hums against your lips. 

You nod, barely eager but not apprehensive either. Treading lightly on a carefully, self-cultivated path between wanting and revulsion. As good as it feels, you don’t want to give him. You don’t remember how.

His lips trail to your neck, to your collarbones. He pushes up your shirt and only leaves little pecks over your nipples and chest. No wounds that draw blood. No hickeys that last weeks. 

You don’t realize you start trembling until Keigo has to grip your inner thighs to still you. So, he can coo blessed, little reminders.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I always make you feel so good.”

“You deserve this, all of this,” he says before pressing his lips to your clit. You’re just wet enough for him to fuck you on his fingers. Enough that when he bullies the bundle of nerves inside you, you coat his fingers in slick and whine. Your voice breaks, over and over, and little, unwanted tears leak into your hairline.

Keigo ignores them as usual. You can be so dramatic.

And Keigo, ever gracious, let’s you shatter on his fingers. Doesn’t make you beg, just whispered hushed adorations as you come undone on his tongue. He hardly toys with you after, and instead lets you fall into the sheets. Properly spend, though not exhausted.

You still shake, but that’s okay. It’s manageable.

Keigo cleans you up with a silken cloth. He wipes between the swell of your breasts, down your navel and to your cunt. His feathers ruffle as he does his work, clearly focused. There’s no speaking during it, only watching and observing.

“Thank you.” You speak without prompting. 

Your words are dry and underused. Your lips feel chapped, and your vision is hazy in the dark of the bedroom. 

Keigo gives you a smile (full of white-hot pride), clicking his tongue, “Of course, dovey. You deserve to feel good for me. I want you to. I like you like this.”

(He carries that same sentiment that no matter your ‘post-fuck’ state. Whether you’re twitching and dumb from overstimulation. Whether you’re bawling from pain and holding your hand over a too deep, ‘accidental’ wound. Whether your expression is blank, lips ajar, and face tilted to the ceiling.)

You can only agree with him.

What other option do you have?

...

(The doctor calls the following week. Keigo speaks to her in hushed tones from his office, muffled and stern. You only catch pieces of it.

“They do not appear to be suffering from anything specific illness.” The doctor pauses. “The weakness, fatigue, shakiness, forgetfulness, and nausea all seem to be tied back to prolonged anxiety. Constant surges of adrenaline that have pushed them to this point.”

Keigo doesn’t bother asking the source.

He knows it.

(And honestly? He seems a little proud.)

 You return to settle on the couch. Ever practiced, you turn towards the door and find the locks.

One, two, three four—

That four one wouldn’t be too hard to pick, would it?

(You’d already tried months ago. It was just a chain lock, but Keigo had nearly snapped your wrist when he caught you trying to tamper with it.)

Five, six, seven—

Your stomach rolls and your hug your knees, still managing a smile when Keigo rejoins you. His wings flex, and he flashes you a golden smile. His phone is locked and in his hand, and you know he’ll ignore it for the night. He’ll wrap you in his arms and smother you with his wings.

It’s better this way, you remind yourself, turning from the locks.

[thatfanficstuff]

Not About You - 10

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x ofc

Warning: mentions of torture and death, nothing beyond canon; school dance.

A/N: This is a bit of a filler but necessary.

When Lucy woke, she found herself back in the car still wearing Damon’s jacket. She blinked away the sleep. “Where are we?”

Damon glanced over. “Hello, sleeping beauty. We’re a couple hours from home.”

She groaned as she stretched. “So, what’s the plan when we get back?”

He tapped the steering wheel with his thumbs. “Well, I feel like I would have noticed a grimoire tucked amongst the books in our library. I know several of the founder’s kept journals, if we can find some from that time maybe it will tell us something about Emily and what happened to her things when they killed her.”

“I assume we won’t find those just laying around either.”

He huffed a laugh. “Probably not, no.”

She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her notifications. “Elena gave Caroline a vervain necklace but didn’t tell her anything about it. Stefan’s not sure if he’s happy Elena can keep her mouth shut or angry that she’s not warning Caroline.”

“What’s up with that?” Damon asked.

Lucy arched a brow. “With what?”

“Stefan and Caroline.”

She shrugged. “Not sure. They’ve been spending a lot of time together though. She’s an infinitely better choice than Elena. I can’t imagine him going much longer without telling her the truth.”

“Why don’t we just take out an ad in the paper?”

“Stop it. I like Caroline. Compel Elena and Bonnie to forget.”

“Wait. Bonnie knows, too?”

“Mm-hmm. Elena told her after the whole possession thing.” Lucy put her feet up on the dash. “That makes me, Zach, Bonnie, Elena and Jeremy that know.”

Damon reached over and shoved her feet down. “And soon to be Caroline.”

Lucy put her feet back up as Damon signaled to take the next exit.

“Feet down or give me back my jacket.”

She stuck her tongue out at him but dutifully returned her feet to the floor.

Fortunately, Stefan knew precisely where their father’s journal was. Damon wasn’t sure it would tell them anything, but it was a place to start. And it helped smooth the ruffled feathers from when Damon found out Stefan gave the compass to Elena. It was technically hers anyway, but that was beside the point.

Currently, Lucy was laying on the sofa with her feet on Damon’s lap while they took turns reading the journal. It was boring and hard to read so they were sharing their suffering. Stefan appeared in the doorway drawing her attention.

“Where are you off to?” she asked.

“Decade dance.” He turned back and forth showing her his outfit for approval.

“Looking sharp, Salvatore. Who are you taking?” She kept her fingers crossed that he would say Caroline.

“I’m escorting Caroline and Elena actually.” Lucy frowned and he held up his hands. “Don’t ask me. They’re the ones that came up with that plan.”

“Well, have a good time,” she said with a wave and watched him walk away.

He hadn’t been gone very long when Damon and Lucy heard a phone ringing that belonged to neither of them. Stefan’s cell phone laid on a table on the other side of the library.

Lucy answered it. “Stefan’s phone.”

“It’s Elena. Where is he?”

“On his way to yours. Forgot his phone.”

The girl breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. This compass was going nuts but he must be here. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Lucy had barely gotten settled when Damon’s phone rang. He frowned at the display then answered. “Yeah?” He listened for several beats. “We’ll be right there.”

He patted Lucy’s legs. “Let’s go, Williams. Little Miss Elena just got attacked. Grab your gear.”

“Of course, she did,” Lucy muttered. She equipped her wrist stakes and followed Damon out to his car.

When they arrived at Elena’s, Stefan filled them in. Apparently, the Gilberts were in the habit of randomly inviting pizza delivery people into their house and one happened to be the vampire that was after Elena. Lucy wasn’t sure how this was her problem exactly, but Stefan wanted their help so she’d give it.

“So let me get this right,” Lucy said as she followed Damon to the car so they could head to the dance. “We’re going to a high school dance in hopes the vampire will follow Elena there. To a building filled with innocent people.”

“Yep,” he answered popping the p.

She shook her head. “You’re not allowed to come up with the plans anymore.”

Lucy stayed close to Damon as they walked into the dance. She suppressed a shudder. This had never been her kind of thing. Too many people with too many expectations. Damon leaned toward her. “Stay close, kitten.”

She hummed instead of answering and grabbed onto his hand so they wouldn’t get separated. He shifted his hold so their fingers were laced together. He tugged her in one direction while Stefan and Elena went over to meet Caroline and Bonnie.

After a look around the room, they made their way to where Elena stood by herself. “Where’d everyone go?” Lucy asked.

“Dancing,” the girl answered, clearly not happy. Her gaze darted down to where Damon still held onto Lucy’s hand then back up. Elena smiled slightly and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Damon, would you like to dance?”

“I would love to.” He turned his smirk onto Lucy. “Lucy, may I have this dance?”

She laughed and let him lead her onto the floor. “That was mean,” she said.

“It was, wasn’t it?” He shrugged. Once the song was over, they moved to the side of the dancefloor to scan the crowd again.

“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” she asked after a moment.

“Creepy vampire.”

She elbowed his side. “Found him. I win.”

“Not funny,” he grumbled.

She grinned. “We keep having this conversation. I told you, I’m hilarious.”

A man with blond hair wearing a letterman’s jacket approached them. “Hey, I don’t recognize you. How’d you get roped into chaperoning?”

Damon just looked at him, not interested in idle chitchat with a stranger.

“Oh, sorry,” the man said holding out a hand. “Alaric Saltzman, new history teacher.”

Damon shook his hand followed by Lucy. “Damon Salvatore, Lucy Williams,” the vampire introduced them.

“Salvatore? As in Stefan?” Alaric asked.

“That’s my little brother. I’m his guardian. Hence the chaperoning.”

“He’s a smart kid.”

Lucy looked the man over. Everything he said had a hint of insincerity. What was he up to?

“That’s our Stefan.” Damon said sounding pretty insincere himself. She rolled her eyes. These two would get along great.

The teacher shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, you always lived here?”

“Off and on. We traveled a lot.” Damon may have been answering the other man’s questions but his focus remained on the crowd in the gym.

“Oh yeah. Where? Around the states?”

And that was enough for Damon. He made it a practice of not sharing too much of his personal life and distrusted anyone that pushed for information.

Obviously unsettled by the look he was getting, Alaric backpedaled. “Sorry. I’m so nosey. Just ignore me. It was nice meeting you.”

They watched him walk away and Lucy leaned into Damon’s side so she could talk without being overheard. “I don’t trust him.”

Damon hummed. “Yeah, me either.”

A beat went by before she spoke again. “Damon?”

“Yes, kitten?”

“Are the lyrics of this song literally ‘it’s a slow dance’?”

He chuckled. “Yep.” He grasped her hand and pulled her to a different part of the floor to dance while they continued to look for the vampire.

They were in the midst of quiet conversation when Stefan interrupted them. “Have you seen Elena?”

Damon looked frantically around the room. “She was just here. What the hell?”

“We need to find her,” Stefan said. “Lucy, you stay with Caroline.”

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. She watched the brothers hurry from the gym before she found the blonde. “Hey Caroline.

“Lucy, it’s so good to see you.” The girl seemed genuinely happy, making Lucy smile.

“Listen, the boys and I have to take care of something real quick but we’ll be right back. Stay in the gym, okay? One of my asshole exes is running around and he’s bad news.” Lucy didn’t wait for a response before following in the direction the brothers went.

She hurried through the maze of hallways blocked by locked doors and discovered they were in the cafeteria. Rather than announcing her presence, she stayed in the hallway to keep watch. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doors.

Grunts of pain carried from inside and she flinched. She didn’t know what they were doing to the creepy vampire but it sounded unpleasant. A sound caught her attention and she looked over to find the new history teacher making his way down the hall.

He gave her an uneasy smile. “Lucy, right?”

“Last I checked. Alaric?”

“Call me Ric.” He tried to look past her through the window and the door and she shifted her stance to block his view. “What are you doing here? Kind of a long way from the dance.”

“Needed a break. Too many people.” She kept her gaze locked on him as he leaned on the wall across from her.

A particularly pain-filled groan sounded and he straightened. “Did you hear that?”

“Nope.”

His gaze ran over her but it didn’t faze her. She’d hate for Damon to have to kill Ric here but she didn’t trust the teacher. They’d have to keep an eye on him regardless.

A loud cry came from the room behind her and she bit the inside of her lip to keep from reacting.

“Someone just yelled in pain,” he said taking a step in her direction.

“No, they didn’t.”

He laughed in disbelief. “Yes, they did. I heard it.”

“I think you’re hearing things. There was no yell.” She kept her voice and her expression as neutral as possible.

He took another step forward. “I think I better check that room.”

Lucy straightened, moving one hand behind her leg. She dropped the stake into it and fingered the weapon. She’d never killed a human before but she’d do what was necessary to protect her boys even if nausea already rolled in her belly from the thought. “There’s nothing in that room you need to worry about, teacher. Trust me.”

There must have been something in her expression that warned him off. He stared at her a moment longer before nodding. “Okay.” As he walked away down the hall, she breathed a sigh of relief and tucked her stake back into place.

Just as he disappeared from view, the doors behind her opened making her jump. She spun around to find Damon looking her over. “Oh, hey, Luce. Where’ve you been? We found the vampire.”

Stupid Salvatore.

[high-supernatural]

Rituals Take 2

Kai Parker x Female Reader

Request: Can you do the Rituals story but like a part 2 but the roles are reversed.

Word Count: 2517

Warnings: Kn!fe play (sorta, not really), smut, lots of smut, dom!kai, readers first time.

After the merge, Kai was having something of an existential crisis. He started feeling emotions and was thrown into a crisis of “who am I.” His whole identity was merged with the identity of his polar opposite. He was confused and desperate to find out who he really was.

Six months ago, a girl rescued him from the prison world. Since she was young, she was able to travel to other worlds in her dreams, that’s how she met Kai for the first time. When she grew older, she was able to physically travel there, and she got him out. She stayed with him through the merge, through getting magically sick, and now through what seems like a never-ending existential crisis. They were close, very close. It was almost as if they had known each other their whole lives. They knew no boundaries with each other, and constantly tested how far they would let each other go with their physical boundaries. Now things were different. He was withdrawn, stand offish, and seemed to be shutting himself out from the world.

They spent over a month with their eyes endlessly glued to occult books to find anything about merging identities but came up even more lost the more they read. Each time they came up with nothing, Kai shut down more. Over time, she started shutting down too because she didn’t know how else to help. They ignored each other and really only spoke when they were getting food, but even then, it was soft mumbles.

They sat in their hotel room like this every day until Kai found something in one of the books they had.

“I think I found something,” Kai interrupted the deafening silence in the room without taking his eyes off the book.

“What? Another theory?” She mumbled back.

“Not really a theory…” Kai trailed, “more of a method. It’s like an astral projection,” he looked up at her just to see that her eyes were still glued to the book she had.

Kai sighed dramatically, “it says it’s a ritual, all it calls for is basic things we can get at the gas station,” he kept looking at her ignoring him.

“Hm,” was all she responded with as she flipped a page, “it would probably just turn out like every other ritual we’ve tried, I wouldn’t bother,” she said bluntly.

“I don’t think so,” Kai said as if he was his normal self again, “it’s a ritual to see into the soul, you can’t get to know yourself any deeper than that.”

She closed her book and sat back in her chair in a sarcastic way, “fine, what does it call for?”

“Oh, you know, your basic magic things…” he trailed again as if to add an element of anticipation, “black candles, weird sigil, blood…” he paused again.

“And?” she asked, pretending to be annoyed with his dramatics.

“And sex,” he smiled innocently.

Her eyebrows raised for a split second as she leaned forward in her chair before standing, “oh cool, now you just have to trick somebody into having freaky ritualistic sex with you,” she said before walking behind Kai to the small kitchen they had in their hotel room.

“Would I have to trick you?” he said with his back towards her.

She paused what she was doing in the kitchen but didn’t respond. They let a few seconds of awkward pause pass them before Kai snuck up behind her, standing only centimeters from connection, and pushed her hair to the other side of her neck so he could see her face.

“Would I have to trick you?” he asked again with his hand under her chin, knowing she’d move her face away from him if he didn’t.

“Uh… no, I guess not,” she spoke with reddening cheeks.

“O.m.g… are you nervous?” Kai teased and poked her side. She never got nervous or flustered in front of him, she avoided it like hell.

“No,” she turned around to face him with her hands in her hoodie pockets, “just, why me? What if it doesn’t work?”

Kai circled his fingers around the strings on her hoodie, still standing suffocatingly close to her, “you’re a witch, you know the game, you’re probably the only person I know who won’t freak out and run when I ask if we can mix our blood and disconnect our souls from our bodies in a freaky sex romp…” he moved his eyes up her body until they met her eyes, “plus it helps that you’re hot.”

She looked down so Kai wouldn’t see her blush, but he objected by lifting her chin back up, “so, are you in?” Kai asked.

“I will platonically have a ‘freaky sex romp’ with you if there’s a chance it will snap you out of your identity crisis,” she smirked.

She stayed at the hotel to set up what she could while Kai left to get more things for the ritual. When he got back, she had already drawn the sigil on the floor and set most things up, the only thing left was the candles that Kai set up right when he got there.

She watched him lay the candles in a circle on the ground before he grabbed her hand for them to both be standing in the circle.

She starred at his serious facial expressions as he drew blood from his hand, “are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, more for herself than for him.

“I need to know who I am,” Kai responded.

“Well, what if it doesn’t work?”

Kai rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand, bringing his knife to it but stopping after he looked at her, “do you not want to do this?” he asked in an impatient tone.

“I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

He rolled his eyes and held onto her wrist, bringing the knife underneath her chin in a playful manner, “are you saying that for me or for you?”

He raised an eyebrow as she kept looking at him silently.

“Both, I guess—” she started before Kai cut her off to ask, “are you nervous?” he paused with a pondering look, “you’ve never done this before,” he chuckled through his nose, “have you?”

She shook her head ‘no’ so slightly it was almost unnoticeable.

He looked down at her hand as he brought the knife back there without drawing blood yet, “well, I’ll tell you what,” he looked back at her face, “we can either do this first and I’ll give you a real, extravagant, spectacular first time ever later, or the other way around,” he studied her expressions and bit his lip, “it’s up to you.”

“Well, we’re already here, so I guess the first option works,” she teased.

He brought her into a kiss right as he drew blood from her hand and interlocked their fingers, dropping the knife on the ground and moving his other arm up the back of her hoodie to rest around her waist, kissing her softly.

Kai unlocked their hands and pulled her body closer to him by the front waist of her shorts, “did I mention we have to be one-hundred-percent naked for this,” he teased, brushing his lips against hers before going back for a more passionate kiss and unbuttoned her shorts.

He pulled her shorts just enough for them to fall on their own. She tightened her legs from nervousness as Kai snaked one arm around her, cupping her ass to pull her even closer to him. Their bodies pressed together as his lips moved to her neck and his other hand trailed softer than a feather to rub the back of his knuckles down the front of her lace covered core resulting in her closing her legs tighter trying to ignore how weak her knees felt.

He sneaked his hands in between her tightened legs to cup her core and gently rub his thumb over her soft spot, “relax,” he whispered and pecked her lips once more before moving her to lay on the floor.

She propped herself up with her elbows and kept both ankles on either side of Kai’s legs with her knees pressed together as she watched him take his shirt off.

Kai whispered “incendia,” and the candles ignited as he spread her knees apart and ushered her to lay on her back with his lips attached to her neck, moving down her chest before lifting her hoodie up to expose her bare breasts.

He cupped one of her breasts as his lips traveled down the middle of them, looking up at her, he whispered, “you okay?”

She nodded and moved a hand to his hair, the other to where his hand rested on her hip.

His lips traveled further down until they reached her still clothed core and pulled himself up onto his knees with her hand in his, pulling her up to rest her knees underneath her.

Looking up at him, he guided her hand to feel the hardness in his pants before she removed his belt and pulled them down to expose his length, taking it in her hand as he lifted her hoodie over her head and slipped his hand under her panties.

Kai ran two fingers between her gates and softly pushed her onto her back again without removing his hand. He knelt between her legs, keeping them open by holding underneath one of her knees and slipped one finger inside.

She breathed in and swiftly moved a hand over his, the other to cover her mouth.

“It’s okay,” he whispered before inserting another finger and began pumping slowly as his thumb rubbed light circles on her clit. He leaned down to take one of her breasts into his mouth before using his free hand to hold the wrist she had placed over his hand onto her stomach before pumping faster.

He listened to the soft moans and whines she tried to muffle and couldn’t help but to tell her how perfect she was.

When she started shifting her hips into his fingers, he removed his hand and sat back on his knees, pushing her legs closed to grab both sides of her underwear and slowly pulled them off, spreading her legs for him again and rubbed his thumb down her folds once more.

He aligned himself with her entrance, pushing her knees up to her chest, “ready?” Kai whispered. She nodded and placed a hand on his stomach to control his pace. He slowly entered her with a look of pleasure and vulnerability on his face as he went deeper and began to move slowly.

As Kai picked up his pace both of their visions went dark, and they woke up in a dark world with a blue hue surrounding a forest full of leafless trees.

“Where are we?” she asked, but when she looked over at Kai, he wasn’t there. She looked around until she saw a figure in the distance – a tall figure about eight feet in height with gigantic elk shaped horns and what looked like a long robe covering its body. She didn’t even register the image of this figure in her mind before she called its name, “Kai,” she squinted, “how’d you get over there?” It was as if she knew who the figure was even though it didn’t look like the Kai she knew as a human.

The figure transported itself to stand directly in front of her, revealing its dark aura and red eyes, “this is what I am,” it spoke with a distorted voice before placing its hands on either side of her head.

She woke up back in the hotel room the second they both reached their orgasms, both a sweaty, moaning mess as Kai collapsed his face into the crook of her neck riding them both out.

“What the hell was that” she breathed, placing her hands on his shoulders to push him off her so she could stand up and quickly put her hoodie back over the hickey ridden chest Kai gave her as they were both blacked out.

Kai sat on his knees, “I know who I am,” he placed a hand between her thighs to pull them closer to his face harshly. He nibbled at the bottom of her stomach and breathed, “I finally remember who I really am.”

She attempted to push his head from moving further down and tightened her legs as Kai tightened his grip on her thigh, “Kai, you have to tell me what you saw,” she tried explaining.

He licked a stripe up her core, resulting in her legs partially buckling from the unexpected sensation, “I will,” he moved her body to the side to push her onto the bed. “But I promised you a real first time afterwards, remember?” he knelt before the bed he laid her on and moved his face between her legs.

“Kai, it can wait—” she was cut off by an unconscious gasp of air as his lips sucked on her clit roughly.

She moved a hand to grab at his hair and placed the other around the arm he rested on her stomach, arching her back and moving her hips uncontrollably at the pleasure.

Kai sucked harder and flicked his tongue around in fast, rough motions. It was as though his old self was finally back. “Kai—really—it can—” he cut her off by inserting two fingers into her, pumping as soon as he entered her causing her to moan loudly and grip his arm tighter.

She had never felt this many sensations before. The pleasure he was sending her was the loudest deafening feeling she had ever felt. She couldn’t resist giving into it as her second orgasm washed over her, leaving fingernail marks in Kai’s arm and filling the room with moans.

He snaked both arms underneath each side of her legs and held her wrists with them, pushing her through a third orgasm before he pulled himself up to her face with her arms being pushed above her head, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of that,” he whispered before laying his lips on hers, letting her taste herself, “don’t you taste so good?”

“Glad you’re back, Kai… Can you tell me what you saw now?”

Kai pulled her legs so that her core was fully exposed to him at the edge of the bed and pushed his length into her again slowly.

“It wasn’t really what I saw…” he started as she watched in awe that he was really having a casual conversation as he was about to fuck her again, “it was just what I felt,” he thrusted slowly. Her eyelids grew heavier as she forced them to stay open enough to concentrate on what he was saying.

“I didn’t see anything except the forest, and it was like I downloaded files about who I am again,” he breathed a silent moan and leaned into the crook of her neck again, kissing it softly.

“So, thank you for helping me,” he whispered.

​​​