#and surrounded by this impenetrable darkness

[quinttyz]

(Will expand on this further when i stop playing for the night but-)

ASTARION CONFESSED TO CHILDE!! ASTARION CONFESSED TO CHILDE!!!

IT WAS SO SWEET SO TENDER AND OF COURSE THERE WAS SNARK BETWEEN THE TWO BUT OH MY god,,,THE HUG? AND THE WAY ASTARION FIRST HESITATED ………..BUT THEN HUGGED HER BACK AND WAS KIND OF SAD TO BREAK IT OFF IMMEDIATELY,,,

and the way he held her hand..,,,,,,,,,

God pls dont tell me hes been doing the mr darcy hand flex but like,,,for the entirety of act one LMAO!!

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅳ▬ ⁽ 𝓎𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒿𝒶 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₈˖₆ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, yautja/human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, dubcon, rape/noncon elements, violence, alien abduction (??), reader is lowkey horny all the time. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: after a yautja breaks into your home, all hell breaks loose.

꒰m!yautja ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

THUMP THUMP

Crash!

𝒴our eyes flutter open, bleary with sleep and confusion. The room is dark, the moonlight filtering through the window, casting a soft glow onto your thick blanket. With a yawn, you stretch out your limbs, feeling your joints crack as you reach out for the lamp on your nightstand. The small clink of the knob being twisted breaks the silence of the night in your quiet house. You take a moment to rub the sleep from your eyes before you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and shuffle down, your warm feet making contact with the cool touch of your house shoes. It takes a second for you to come to but you finally find yourself upright and walking out of the room. You weren't necessarily worried, as your mischievous cat often wreaks havoc on the counters at night. It's a familiar sight. Typically, you would leave the mess until morning, but this time, an inexplicable urge pushes you to investigate. Plus, you're quite thirsty. Descending the wooden stairs leisurely, you reach the end of the hallway at the bottom and flick on the light switch. The single bulb illuminates only your immediate surroundings, but it's enough for your eyes to adjust to the darkness downstairs.

The shuffling of your footsteps reverberated in your ears, causing an inexplicable unease to wash over you. Your legs became as heavy as lead, making each step a painful endeavor. Suddenly, a surge of alarm courses through you as when the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, goosebumps erupting across your skin. You halt your movement, allowing your senses to sharpen and tune in. The faint jingle and jangle of your cat's collar catches your immediate attention, prompting you to cautiously retrace your steps towards the staircase. As your trembling hands gripped the railing, you were taken aback by the sight of your black and white feline leisurely stretching at the top of the stairs, its mouth opening wide in a yawn. If your cat had been upstairs all along, then what was the noise you heard?   Fear crept into the depths of your stomach, churning your insides and burning your throat. In this moment of vulnerability, you realized that you were unarmed, with the only available option being a baseball bat tucked away in the closet just a few feet from where you stood. A lump formed in your throat as you swallowed hard, desperately attempting to maintain your composure as you stealthily made your way toward the closet. The thought of calling for help vanished from your mind, replaced by a gripping fear that consumed your every thought.  Your attention was suddenly captivated by a mesmerizing neon green hue, its splatters leading a mysterious trail toward the dining room. 

  With trembling hands, you press them against your mouth to stifle a sob, cringing when you feel the clamminess of your skin. As you stand frozen in terror, your ears tingle and twitch, picking up on a soft clicking sound in front of you. Slowly, your eyes scan upwards, only to be met with an impenetrable darkness in the dining room, with the glowing substance serving as the sole source of illumination. A soft whimper escapes your lips, and at that moment, all thoughts of finding a weapon vanished. Whoever or whatever was in your house, one thing was certain - it was not human.   As you stood there, the air before you seemed to ripple and quiver, creating a captivating display of ethereal pink and green hues before your dark dining room came back into your 'sight'. A shudder traveled down your spine, and your legs wobbled, as if unable to bear your weight any longer. With a mix of trepidation and curiosity, you tentatively extended your hand, half-expecting your senses to deceive you in this surreal moment. The sensation was akin to touching a brick wall, the object beneath your hand was rigid and corded with muscles. You clenched your eyes shut and bit your lip, pulling your hand away briefly from whatever was there. Your lashes fluttered, lifting to reveal glossy eyes and unshed tears. The air suddenly materialized into something inhumane. The air around you suddenly morphed into something otherworldly. It stood imposingly tall, slender, and muscular. Once more, you heard that clicking noise coming from the being in front of you. Overwhelmed by the intense mental stimulation, your mind reaches its breaking point. Your eyes involuntarily rolled to the back of your head, rendering your body completely incapacitated. In a sudden motion, you stumbled forward, colliding with the mysterious entity standing before you. With surprising tenderness, its clawed hands extended to cradle your delicate form.

With ease, the colossal Predator effortlessly lifted the small human who had fallen into him, ensuring that its sharp claws didn't puncture your tender thighs. Your head hangs limply, narrowly avoiding the menacing tusks attached to the Predator's shoulder armor.     Perturbed the Predator emits a series of clicks, and swiftly makes his way into the living room and to the small couch, gently unfurling his arms from around you and placing you onto it. Tilting his head his tubed dreads cascade over his shoulder, and behind his mask, the Predator's intense gaze is fixated on your motionless body. Fortunately, you appeared unharmed, it seemed you had simply fainted. Ahn'thu's head jerked up abruptly, rendering himself invisible to the naked eye immediately. The sharp crunch of broken glass echoed in his ear canal as he swiftly surveyed the room through his mask, instantly identifying multiple human heat signatures. Glancing down at the small figure nestled on the couch, he reassured himself that you would remain unharmed among your own kind. Revealing himself now would undoubtedly result in a hasty and reckless response from the intruders, no doubt they would fire without thinking of who was in the house originally.

The Yautja took his eye off the human on the couch and ventured into the darkness of the living room. The heat signatures were moving closer, almost to the living room. The heat signatures were getting closer, inching towards the heart of the room. Humans, being as noisy as ever, made their presence known with every step, every whisper, and every click of their weapons. Ahn'thu maintained surveillance on their positions, making sure they stayed within sight. The soldiers eventually entered the living room, speaking in hushed tones. It took awhile but one of them noticed you unconscious on the couch, nudged his fellow soldier, and pointed towards your body.

" We have a civilian here Captain, your orders?"

A burly man in the front came to a halt, scanning the area until he spotted your motionless form."Check for signs of life," he commanded. Ahn'thu's warning trill sent a shiver down the soldiers' spines. The sound of his gauntlet blades unsheathing itself made them wary and the room was suddenly filled with red dots from their weapons, aiming at nothing and everything.   " Stay on high alert! It has the advantage of being able to see us, but we are unable to perceive its existence. Keep your guard up and remain cautious at all times. "

 Ahn'thu almost let out a click of amusement. He didn't want this gruesome scene to play out in your home. He didn't want you to wake up to the putrid smell of metallic blood and death. He didn't want your eyes to widen in horror at the sight of crimson stains on your wooden floors and white walls.   The sound of your groans echoed through the room, instantly drawing the gaze of everyone present. With bated breath, they observed as your unconscious form gradually stirred back to life. Ahn'thu emitted a contented purr, relieved to witness the small human's recovery. Although reluctant, the Predator seized the opportunity to depart unnoticed while their attention was fixated, skillfully concealing itself nearby.

With a flutter, your eyes blinked open for the second time tonight, accompanied by a pounding ache at the back of your head. Oddly enough, you couldn't recall any instance of hitting your head. As you propped yourself up, the fog in your mind started to lift, and your bleary eyes regained focus.

  The hushed shuffle of footsteps nearby caused your muscles to tense, and in that moment, the memories flooded back. You turned your gaze slowly towards the direction of the sound, your hands instinctively rising to cover your mouth, a gasp escaping through your fingers.

  In front of you, a group of armed men stood, the lasers of their guns fixed on your trembling figure. Suddenly, one of them took a step forward, gradually lowering his weapon. "We're not here to hurt you. We're after something that has entered your home. Have you seen anything?" Reluctantly, you nodded your head and swallowed a sob. "T-there was this man— no, this thing. It was tall, but it didn't appear human. It was injured. I didn't even notice it at first, despite it being right in front of me." Anxiously playing with your fingers, you muttered, "I know it sounds crazy, but it just appeared out of nowhere, like it was invisible at first." The man nodded, his face wearing a grim expression. He raised his gun again, aiming it at your head. " If only you didn't know so much. " Your eyes widened as you looked at the other soldiers in the room, tears falling down your cheeks. "N-no! I swear I won't say a word, please, please don't hurt me."

  ' gurgle '

  Blood coated your face in small rivulets, and you sat paralyzed on the couch, observing as the man in front of you collapsed to the floor, blood pooling from his mouth. Suddenly, the alien materializes, a massive eight-foot Yautja looming just a few inches away from the lifeless body. The masked creature locked eyes with you, its head cocked to the side. Time seemed to stand still as you both stared at each other until chilling words reached your ears.

"Fire!" Bullets whizzed by your face, lodging into the walls and furniture around you. You couldn't help but scream, curling into a tight ball to make yourself as small as possible, hands covering your ears, eyes shut tight, face buried in your knees. 

Ahn'thu vanished from sight, the sound of his blade cutting through the air was more deafening than the gunshots, and soon bodies were falling to the ground. Their cries pierced through your hands and tears streamed down your face. Despite the diminishing sound of gunfire, it didn't mean that it had completely ceased. A searing, white-hot pain shot through your thigh, prompting you to release a scream that resonated with pure agony. The intensity of your cry caught Ahn'thu's attention, causing him to swiftly turn towards you, his cloak disengaging in the process.   A deafening roar reverberated throughout the house, shaking its very foundation. With a swift and calculated movement, Ahn'thu twisted his body towards the soldier closest to him, seizing the soldier's head in his powerful grip. In a bone-chilling display, he twisted and pulled, leaving behind a severed head and a spine dangling from the Predators' colossal hands. Ahn'thu swiftly reached for the shuriken hanging from his waist, the sharp blades catching the light as they spun open. With a precise throw, the blade pierced through a man's throat, causing the others to scatter in fear dropping their weapons in the process. After dispatching the final opponent, the Yautja turned towards the trembling human huddled on the couch, your body covered in a sheen of sweat. The massive figure advanced, only to halt when you tucked your body to the couch, a pained gasp echoing in the room. While he wished for your comfort, that wasn't a priority when there was a bullet lodged in your thigh. Ahn'thu's gaze flickered to the wound, his concern evident as he saw the blood seeping through your clenched hands that were putting pressure on the area.   With swift movements, he approached you lifting you gently into his arms. A gentle purr rumbling from his chest, soothing you. Gradually, your body relaxed in his arms, the tension melting away and your heat signature indicating a decrease in distress. The Yautja grumbled as he heard the wailing of cop sirens. He walked over to one of the dead bodies, softly positioning you so you were cradled in the crook of one of his arms, and pulled the shuriken from the man's throat, flicking it out so that the blades closed. His ship was a considerable distance away, but luckily, he was surrounded by miles of woods. Calling for his ship and cloaking it in a clearing would be a simple task. Ahn'thu smoothly exited, slipping through the gaping hole in the wall with care not to cause you any discomfort. The clamor of the intruders breaking through the door pushed him to hasten his steps, the cloaking device immediately bending the light and allowing you two to become transparent. He realized he had to extract the bullet swiftly, noticing the ashen hue of your soft skin, and your eyes bleary with pain. He comforted you with a soft purr, holding you close to maintain warmth. With a gentle flutter, your eyes succumbed to the overwhelming pain, plunging you into a deep slumber for the second instance that night.

For the past half an hour, he has been walking tirelessly, determined to put a considerable distance between himself and the small town.  Initially, he frets when you don't show any signs of movement for the first ten minutes of the journey. However, he finds solace in the data and body temperature readings provided by his equipment, albeit temporarily.   Gently, he cradles you in the crook of his arm, drawing you closer so that he can operate his gauntlet. The ship will arrive shortly, in just a matter of minutes. He steals another glance at you, observing your shallow breaths and the rapid movements of your eyes beneath closed lids as if chasing fleeting dreams.

The ship arrives with a gentle breeze and the familiar beep of his gauntlet. It briefly materializes, showing him the entrance before vanishing and sealing behind him. The interior is pleasantly cool, but not too much so. The netting covering his body regulated his temperature, he was never too cold nor too hot— but Ahn'thu preferred it to be cold. His main concern is removing the bullet from your body, so he takes you to his room and lays you down on his furs to inspect your wound.

 Unfazed by the blood staining the plush bedding, Ahn'thu retrieves a reddish substance from a nearby chest. With a delicate touch, he grasps your leg, wiping away some of the blood to locate the wound. Placing the red putty against the injury, he allows it to work its magic.   As tears cascade down your cheeks and your body writhes in pain, he holds you firmly, emitting a deep purr from his chest to provide comfort and alleviate your suffering. Although you grow increasingly docile, spasms persist in your leg as he maintains his grip.

As the weight of the crimson putty becomes burdensome, he delicately peels it away from your skin, examining the bullet now cradled in his palm. Ahn'thu places it within a smaller container before retrieving a vial of cerulean liquid and returning to your side, his worried expression evident. Clicking his tongue in apprehension, he understands the impending agony that awaits you.     He applies a single drop of the liquid onto the wound, resuming his comforting purrs, almost stopping when your trembling hand finds his and clings tightly. Your cries grow louder, sweat trickling down your body, causing it to tremor uncontrollably. Though he can offer little in terms of remedy, he remains by your side, providing solace through closeness and doing his utmost to ease your suffering.

It feels like an eternity before your trembling stops, your wound closes, and your breathing becomes steady. In reality, it only took five minutes. You're still grasping his hand, his claws curled inwards to his palm so that he didn't hurt you in any way. And while he's reluctant to let go of you, he does so— he needs to report back to his Elder and start the hunt for the Bad Blood in the Town area. He lets out an amused click as your hand slightly rises off the bed to find him again. He turns and makes his way to the door, letting it slide open before leaving.

As your eyes flutter open, you struggle to adjust to the darkness surrounding you. The remnants of a bullet wound in your thigh send phantom pains coursing through your body, causing a dull ache. With a weary groan, you manage to sit up, only to be startled by the sudden flood of light that blinds you momentarily.   The room feels alien, unfamiliar, and a wave of panic threatens to consume you. However, you gather your composure and slowly maneuver yourself off the massive bed. Every movement is accompanied by the symphony of your body's protests - the creaking of bones and the popping of joints. Finally, as your feet touch the cool metal flooring, you take a moment to stretch your limbs, savoring the sweet relief it brings.

 It seems like you're just in a room, with no visible exit. Desperately searching for a way out, you cautiously explore the walls for any hidden buttons. You jump back as a door slides open, cool air brushing up against your skin. After cautiously venturing out, you find yourself in a maze of identical hallways, feeling disoriented. Biting your lip you walked a bit farther, gasping softly as you stumble upon a control room filled with strange symbols and advanced technology.

With a sudden jolt, you took a step back and collided with an unyielding force.  Suddenly, a sharp clicking noise resonated near your ear, propelling you into a sprint, deftly evading whatever obstructed your path. When you dared to steal a glance behind, there was nothing to be seen, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips.   However, as you redirected your attention forward, a horrifying sight greeted you, prompting a piercing scream to erupt from your throat at the thing in front of you.  Overwhelmed by fear, you stumble backward and seek solace against the safety of a nearby wall, tears streaming down your cheeks, your body convulsing with hiccups, and your breaths coming in deep, shaky inhales.

  Ahn'thu takes a step closer, then crouches down, his head cocked to the side. You seem to fear him, understandably so given recent events. He resorts to purring, noting the wariness and familiarity in your eyes. He looks down at his gauntlet and starts to type, you're curious but not enough to scoot closer and look. 

  You lean forward some to see what he's doing but jerk your body back forcefully when he moves abruptly, attempting to show you his gauntlet, hitting your head on the metal wall behind you. Though a dull ache lingers in your skull, you pay it little mind.

However, Ahn'thu on the other hand, clicks worriedly, leaning closer to look at your head. He reminds himself that you're scared when you move further away from him. With a sigh, he withdraws his hand and presses the enter key on the gauntlet. Although the voice is slightly distorted, you can still comprehend its words.

"You are safe here."

The sight of your chest's rise and fall gradually slowing down, accompanied by the subtle narrowing of your eyes in distrust, captures Ahn'thu's attention. He finds solace in the fact that you are not easily swayed by trust, recognizing it as a sign of your survival instincts. With caution in mind, you skillfully slide away from him, ensuring maximum distance before confidently standing up.   "Where am I? Why did you take me?"

 Ahn'thu's gauntlet and translator struggled to keep pace with your rapid-fire questions, causing him to click in frustration. However, as he began typing something, you paused, eagerly anticipating the voices of various individuals.

   "One at a time."

You let out an exasperated sigh and fold your arms tightly across your chest.  How ironic it is that these aliens, with their supposedly advanced technology, can't even comprehend a simple conversation. The throbbing ache at the base of your skull intensifies, causing your face to contort in pain. In response, the Yautja takes a step closer, triggering your fight or flight response.

  Your body instinctively takes a few steps back, almost losing balance and narrowly avoiding a collision with the cold, unyielding metal wall of the ship once more. Ahn'thu effortlessly closes the distance between you two, reaching out to firmly grasp your forearm and provide the stability you desperately need.

As you take a moment to closely observe it, you can't help but be intrigued by its reptilian skin, adorned with patches of green, black, and dark grey. Surprisingly, its skin doesn't possess the expected rough texture; instead, it feels more like a unique blend of softness and hardness, almost resembling a pliable plastic. Its claws delicately grasp your forearm, ensuring not to harm you.

   Although its face remains concealed behind a metallic mask, you can hear the faint sounds of clicks and growls, which you assume to be its language. Startled, you swiftly retract your arm and take a step back, fixing a piercing gaze upon it. "Who are you?" you inquire. The alien meets your gaze with its enigmatic blank mask but then proceeds to type something.

 "I am Ahn'thu, I am Elite Yautja Warrior."

You would have trouble pronouncing that, but you decide to give it a try regardless. The sound of your voice attempting to replicate his name brings a hint of amusement to his expression, and he responds with a gentle purr when you pronounce it as accurately as you can.

"What is your name?"

The voices startle you as you hadn't even seen him type it in. You seem wary for a moment, and Ahn'thu backs off, not wanting to push you into sharing if you're not ready. Your eyes reflect a bit of trust now, the stormy pools slowly turning into murky waters. "It's Y/N." 

   It's silent between the two of you for a moment before your stomach lets out a deep growl, making you place your hands over it with furrowed brows. Ahn'thu takes a step closer, and this time, you don't retreat. "I will feed you."

You slowly and warily take its outstretched hand and jump when he grasps your hand gently, pulling you down the hall. You follow closely, absentmindedly tracing circles on the skin of its palm with your thumb. Ahn'thu remains silent, secretly pleased that he has earned a fragment of your trust. The two of you enter a different room, completely white and almost blinding after the dimly lit corridors of the ship. It takes some time for your eyes to adjust to the stark brightness.

Ahn'thu softly ushers you towards a table, a subtle detail you might have missed if he hadn't guided you to sit down first. You quickly pull away your hand from his hold and give him a stern glare. The Yautja admires your boldness, pleased that you remain cautious - and rightfully so, as you're clueless about his intentions. The cooler uncloaks itself when he steps closer to it and you let out a startled gasp, head tilting. Ahn'thu trills and opens the door, unveiling a selection of exotic fruits from the various planets he's visited. He's tested to make sure that they're safe to eat, the inhabitants of Earth were known for their fragility after all. Ahn'thu returned to the table and sat down, the cooler vanishing from view. You observed the unfamiliar fruits with concern, some appearing intimidating. It was the first time you sought guidance since waking up, your wide human gaze up at him through lashes, showing a hint of trust towards him. 

 Ahn'thu purrs and grabs one of the fruits, flipping a blade in his hand and slicing it open. He extends a piece towards you, but your attention is completely captured by the fruit's unusual color. The Yautja lets out an impatient huff and reaches up to unhook his mask, causing a hiss to echo throughout the room as the restraints are released. 

  He braces himself for the typical reaction – a scream, a gasp, a recoil in disgust, or perhaps even a comment on his hideousness – but you defy his expectations.  Instead, your human eyes widen with genuine curiosity, your hands instinctively clench at your side, and your fleshy lips form a small 'o' of wonder, devoid of any fear.

 Your lips part as you gaze into his deep-set eyes, you can't help but be captivated by their human-like appearance and the profound intelligence they hold. His mandibles, though relaxed, twitch slightly under your careful observation. Intrigued, you lean forward, your eyes filled with soft wonder.   Ahn'thu finds your human fascination amusing and decides to indulge in the fruit, carving out a small piece and savoring it. The taste is sweet, leaving a delightful, bubbly aftertaste on the tongue but it isn't unpleasant in the slightest. 

As you gaze at him, your eyes widen in astonishment, fixating on his mandibles and teeth. Mesmerized, you observe him chewing effortlessly. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you decide to grab the remaining portion. Carefully, you bring it closer to your lips, making sure to avoid the skin.

   A stream of blue juice trickles down your chin as you take a bite, causing a soft gasp of delight to escape your lips. The explosion of sweetness and fizziness on your tongue leaves you in awe. You glance at him, your eyes brimming with wonder, and Ahn'thu clicks in amusement. 

With a tantalizing flick of your pink tongue, his amusement gradually subsides. You savor the lingering taste by licking up the remaining juice. Your fingers diligently clean the stickiness off your skin before you devour it, relishing every bite. 

   Ahn'thu notices your swift completion and offers you his remaining portion. You accept it graciously, taking a gentle bite and sighing in delight at its exquisite flavor. Surprisingly, it not only satisfies your cravings but also leaves you feeling pleasantly full.

The Yautja carefully observes you, taking note as your eyelids grow heavy and your pulse begins to calm. Exhaustion from the day's chaos and frantic running through the corridors has caught up to you. Suddenly, you startle as numerous voices echo in your ears, urging you to rest. Despite your weariness, the idea of drifting off to sleep with a mysterious alien predator lurking nearby is not how you envisioned meeting your end.

Ahn'thu observes as your hair dances around your face while you groggily decline. He desires your comfort, but also knows it's for your own good. The Yautja rises and gently carries you in his arms. Sensing your exhaustion, you offer no resistance, allowing your head to rest on his chest. 

  He moves cautiously, avoiding any sudden movements. Your gentle breath brushes against his skin, leaving a warm sensation. The worry lines on your forehead and eyebrows have vanished, revealing smooth human skin.

 Ahn'thu reaches his room and delicately places you on the bed, watching as you immediately snuggle into the soft furs, inhaling gently. The fabric of your shorts ride up and caress your thighs, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the soft globes of flesh that had playfully jiggled when you ran away from him. Your ass looks velvety smooth, and he longs to savor the delight nestled in-between your plush thighs.

   Suppressing his primal desires, he snarls at his own thoughts and shakes his head, causing his dreadlocks to whip around him. Ahn'thu swiftly turns on his heels and exits the room, making his way back to the meeting chamber to report the encounters with the humans and bad blood.

It takes a few hours for your eyelashes to flutter open completely. The room is cast in shadows, with only a faint light illuminating the doorway. Snug in your cocoon of warmth, you find it hard to part with the soft furs. Sliding out of bed, you approach the door and are surprised by its swift, noiseless opening. Stepping into the hallway, you begin to walk aimlessly, not quite certain of your direction but moving forward nonetheless.

Your movements come to a halt as the indecent cacophony of grunts, clicks, and growls fills the air. Backtracking, you cautiously steal a glimpse into the room, the door barely ajar. A gasp lodges itself in your throat, but you swiftly muffle it with your hand, preventing it from reaching your ears, or rather, his ears. 

   With eyes widened in disbelief, you watch him forcefully thrust into a contraption resembling a fleshlight, yet possessing an uncanny fleshy texture, reminiscent of the inner walls of a vagina. It drips with viscous neon droplets of cum, a soft hue of pastel green. What astounds you the most is the sheer shape, size, and girth of his cock. 

As wide as four of your fingers combined, the length stretches from the tip of your index finger to your wrist. It's not human, which is no surprise since he isn't either, but the shape and texture are mesmerizing. It brings to mind the myriad of 'alien' cocks you've seen on Tumblr.

   It shares the same hue as him, but it's noticeably softer than his actual skin. Veins course through it, thick and prominent. Small ridges and nodes decorate it from the top to the bottom, causing you to swallow hard at how slick and warm it seems. The only human aspect about him is the large testicles that hang imposingly underneath his cock.

 You peek up at what he's looking at and can't stop the soft gasp from passing through your lips. It was you. Your face on the pornstar, getting fucked roughly by a guy from your planet. Lost in his own world of desire, he remains oblivious to the sound of your gasp, thrusting relentlessly into the device. Unable to control yourself, your hand slips beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts, gliding past the barrier of your panties, and delving into your dewy, swollen folds, slick with your arousal. 

 Your lower lip disappears between your teeth as a soft moan escapes you, your fingers tracing the outline of your engorged clit. With a delicate touch, you roll it between your fingers, steadying yourself when your knees start to buckle. Your fingers trail past your clit and to your slobbering entrance, hot and clenching against your middle and pointer fingers.

    Slowly you ease your fingers into your dripping pussy, eyes sliding shut for a moment as the thickness enters you. You weren't overly sexual when it came to normal living, you didn't really masturbate and most definitely didn't have time for men or sex toys. At the most, you'd rub one out or try a finger or two but that was about it.

  You try and imagine that he's behind you, that his thick cock is pummeling into you. Your hands fail to provide the same pleasure, leaving you agitated as you watch his hips move with urgency. Giving up, your fingers leave your cunt with an erotic pop and go back to your sensitive clit, rubbing, pinching, and patting at it. 

  Your teeth try and stop your lewd moans of pleasure from escaping but you can hear the wetness of your pussy loud in your ears, feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and onto the floor. His thrusts speed up, his claws dig into the padding of the device and he shoved himself inside it once more before roaring out his release. 

You had never been able to reach orgasm on demand, not even the commanding voices of men on PornHub instructing you to climax. But the feral, animalistic noise of this alien spilling his seed? It made your knees buckle and your pussy convulse. It was the most powerful orgasm you had ever experienced. 

   Thighs twitching, you couldn't hide the deep moan that spills past your pretty little lips. The Yautja's head snaps up and he withdraws his cock from the machine, his cum trickling down his thick shaft. Your cheeks are flushed as you rise hurriedly, running down the hall on legs weakened from your orgasm. You locate the room almost instantly and step inside with a sense of anticipation. 

   Ahn'thu walks over to the broken door ( as it never fully shut ), and opens it completely, his breath finally steadying. He lets out a small sound of confusion before squatting down to examine the tiny pool of cloudy liquid at the entrance.

 His fingers dipped into the substance, and a delightful warmth enveloped them, catching him off guard. Raising his hand to his face, he took a deep breath, his body responding with a pleasurable purr to the sweet and slightly spicy scent that wafted from it. Unable to resist, Ahn'thu sensually sucked on his digit, feeling his cock twitch and precum drip. 

   The taste delighted him, urging him to dip his fingers once more and savor the intoxicating flavor. Standing, he heads back into the room and slips on his clothing. Exiting, Ahn'thu locates the h'dui'se, following like a hound. Unsurprisingly, he finds himself outside of his room. As he enters, he's overwhelmed by the captivating fragrance that surrounds him, suffocating his senses.

The sound of his clicking sends shivers down your spine, causing your body to tremble beneath the soft covers. You instinctively place a hand over your mouth, feeling the warmth of arousal smear across your flushed cheeks. Your thighs clenching tightly together, clit still pulsating from the intense pleasure just moments ago.

   Ahn'thu notices your movements but he doesn't confront you, he doesn't want to scare you even more than you already are. With an angry trill, he exits the room, realizing how difficult it is to be in your presence when the scent of your desire lingers in the air, clouding his senses. He seeks solace in another spare room, far away from the intoxicating allure of your essence.

As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself in a state of uncertainty. The absence of windows on the ship leaves you clueless about the time it's what you assume is the next morning. Stepping out of the room, you make a conscious effort to push yesterday's troubles from your mind and begin to explore. Intrigued, you cautiously peer into each door, hoping to find him. 

The ship is far too silent, calm– it's only you here. A frown forms on your face, and a sudden surge of fear grips your being. The thought of being stranded alone in an alien vessel, unaware of its destination or potential dangers, sends a shiver down your spine.

As you stumble upon the pristine white room, the very same space where he tantalizingly fed you with succulent fruit, a delicate gasp escapes your lips. Hastily, you scuttle inside, emitting a hiss of discomfort as you accidentally collide with the table, your eyes gradually adapting to the surroundings, discerning its form. 

  A wave of bewilderment washes over you as you frantically seek out the refrigerator, emitting a low grunt of frustration as you unexpectedly collide with it, as if it materialized out of thin air.  With a glimmer of delight, the refrigerator door glides open, revealing a mango, a tantalizing gift from Earth.

  You exit the room after searching for the door and head out into the hallway. Without a knife, you're unsure of how to eat the fruit but choose to bite into it, sucking and nipping at the skin until it's cleaned and pulling it from your mouth. As you continue your exploration, you stumble upon the familiar room from the previous night. A surge of desire courses through your veins, causing your cheeks to flush with embarrassment. With sticky fingers, you gently push open the door.

 A hum of delight fills the room as you bite into the fruit again, the juice spilling down your chin and neck. You'd have to ask him where the bathroom is if he even had one. Your gaze catches sight of a nearby table, and you delicately place the mango upon it, savoring the opportunity to lick your fingers clean. Slowly, you walk towards the machine, eyeing it. 

The remnants of his cum, mingled with his perspiration, have been meticulously wiped away, a part of you wishes it wasn't so you could taste him. As you compose yourself, your moistened fingers glide over the buttons, leaving behind traces of your touch. 

  The words displayed on the screen remain an enigma, but the images depicted hold your gaze captive. Among them, one bears an uncanny resemblance to your alien. Another portrays a man, while a third portrays a woman. With trembling limbs, you succumb to your curiosity and press upon the image.

The machine instantly illuminates, its intricate mechanisms gliding back and forth at a deliberate pace. A gasp escapes your lips as you instinctively retreat, your heart pounding fiercely within your chest. As the video commences, you find yourself captivated, fixated on the scene unfolding before you. The alien thrusts into the human woman with a primal intensity, their bodies melding together. 

  Her face is twisted with an unapologetic, wanton pleasure, her eyes rolling back into her skull, and a trail of drool cascades down her chin as he ravishes her. Despite her apparent state of blissful abandon, she begs for more, tooting her rear up, arching her back, and pressing her petite hand against his sculpted abdomen. His low rumblings aren't as deep as your alien's yet they still ignite a pulsating ache within your pussy nonetheless. With flushed cheeks, tousled locks, and quivering thighs, she surrenders herself to his every whim. 

 You bite down on your bottom lip, drawing closer, fixated on the sight of him disappearing inside her. His size may be slightly smaller than your alien's, but you pause, questioning when that creature had become yours. When did you become comfortable with this arrangement?

The thunderous growl signifies its release, cum painting her insides. The woman appears fatigued, yearning for rest, yet enveloped in an intoxicating pleasure. A shuddering sigh escapes her lips, but she remains helpless, succumbing to moans as he resumes his relentless thrusting. 

   Your hand ventures downwards, fingers coated in a sticky residue, caressing your throbbing clit nestled between moist folds and layers of fabric. You're firm in your movements, taken aback by the immense pleasure that engulfs you.

Biting your lip, your hand ventures beneath the fabric of your shorts, gliding past the delicate barrier of your panties, until it reaches your throbbing, weeping pussy. The succulent juice from the mango you had earlier coats your sensitive clit as you rub and pinch at it. This time, you abandon all inhibitions, allowing your moans, soft pants, and whimpers to fill the room and your eyes flutter shut. 

   The sound of her moans intertwines with the rhythmic slapping of his hips against her round ass, becoming the only melody that matters. With your other hand, now free, you trail it up your body, your fingers finding solace on your breasts, expertly pinching and teasing your nipples, mirroring the pleasure the woman is experiencing. The newfound ecstasy consumes you, causing your thighs to tremble uncontrollably, and give out as a desperate whine escapes your lips, your hand drenched in your cum.

An electrifying chill dances along your back, prompting you to rise abruptly. Fingers dart across the buttons, bringing the video to a halt and returning you to the Home Screen. The sensation of not being alone lingers in the air. Withdrawing your hand from your shorts, a glistening trail of desire is left on your stomach and you gracefully exit the room, snatching your mango as you go. Your astuteness guides you effortlessly through the labyrinth of halls, swiftly finding the room.

You let out a gasp as you collide with him, feeling his hand encircle your waist, his knee pressing against your soaked thighs to steady you.  Ahn'thu gazes at you, his head cocking as he spots the fruit in your hand. He goes to question you but the warm trail of wetness on his leg makes him click in question. Then the smell of your arousal hits him like a freight train and he growls lowly, almost throwing you over his shoulder and taking you like a beast in heat when your cunt clenches. 

In a nimble and tender manner, he elegantly withdraws from your presence, his eyes captivated by the luminous sheen of his leg in the artificial white light. Your human cheeks are adorned with a blush, and from behind his mask, he can perceive the frantic beat of your heart, racing at an exhilarating pace.

The mask translates your soft words. " You're back." 

Ahn'thu had set off to pursue the bad blood and had triumphed, bringing back his head as proof. He clicks before typing on his gauntlet, not wanting to startle you too much. "Went to hunt." You bob your head up and down, swallowing thickly. The silence lingers uncomfortably, prompting you to offer him the mango, with the same hand that had brought you pleasure not long ago.

With a swift motion, the Yautja unfastens his mask, causing your eyes to eagerly scan his face. Your breath catches in your throat as he gently seizes your wrist and brings it to his mouth, bypassing the fruit. His mandibles unfurl, revealing their impressive expanse, while his forked, purple tongue sensually caresses your fingers.

 A knot of desire intensifies in your belly, and you observe with furrowed brows and tightly clenched thighs. He pulls away and locks eyes with you, tilting his head inquisitively. With flushed cheeks, you swiftly withdraw your hand and head into the room. 

In the depths of his being, Ahn'thu is acutely aware of your want for him, as the heady scent of your desire hung in the air, thickening with each tantalizing lick of his tongue against your delicate fingers.

Perched upon his seat, the colossal Predator's thoughts spin like a tempest. Merely moments ago, he stumbled upon the lingering evidence of your delectable mango-drenched fingers upon the Pleasuring Room's machine.  

 The air was thick with your intoxicating arousal. Intrigued, he delved into the archives of recently viewed videos, only to be taken aback by the unexpected sight. It was of a Yautja and Ooman-di, which hadn't been what he was watching yesterday.

Ahn'thu swiftly made his way to the Pit, reviewing the camera footage, rewinding time, and selecting the Pleasuring Room. He cocks his head when you first enter the room, setting down your fruit and heading over to the machine. 

  You tap haphazardly and become slightly startled after finally choosing a video, the same one that had recently been watched when he checked.  Initially scared, you gradually became captivated by the video, moving closer.

A deep growl emanates from his throat as your hand disappears beneath the fabric covering your lower body. Arm moving relentlessly, and thighs shaking. The Yautja can feel himself growing harder as you find your release, the lewd sound of your wetness filling the air. With a slight pinch of your nipple, you climax, causing Ahn'thu to grasp the arm of his chair to prevent himself from rushing to you.

   He reaches to replay the video, intending to watch it again while stroking himself, but he accidentally rewinds too far to the moment he had used the device. Switching the camera to the view outside the door, he pauses, enhancing the video quality and zooming in slightly.

  At the door stands your delicate human figure, observing him while you indulge in your own pleasure. Ahn'thu aligns the videos next to each other and emits a satisfied purr as you reach your climax at the same time as him, legs buckling. 

  He remembers hearing the pretty sound of your voice but didn't realize that you had been touching yourself to him. Ahn'thu watches the two newfound videos and strokes himself to completion, cum painting his body. He can't stop himself from heading to his room where you await with glistening thighs.

Lying sprawled on the bed, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, carrying away the remnants of earlier embarrassment. You had never been so driven by sex before but the thought of an Alien taking you against your will, fucking you mercilessly while you cried from pleasure, had consumed your every thought since you boarded the ship.   

  Your self-restraint has vanished, as you slide your hand into your shorts for what feels like the umpteenth time. Your swollen clit, already firm and pulsating, eagerly awaits your hard and rapid strokes.

The sound of heavy footsteps in the darkness sent a jolt of awareness through your body. You stiffen, your nipples hardening, and pussy tightening into a clinch. You can hear the breathy, deep growls of the Yautja in front of you. Can hear the deep inhales it takes of your scent. How long had he been there? When had the door opened? You're unsure but accept it with a little reluctance, tensing as his hot breath fans over your face. There's the distinctive sound of a blade being unsheathed before your top is cut open, leaving your breasts to spill out. 

“A-ah! Wait, what are yo— mph~” Your breath hitches into a moan as the alien's scalding mouth descends upon your left nipple. His hand ventures boldly between your thighs, seeking out your wet, warm pussy beneath the delicate silk of your shorts. 

With his thumb, he applies pressure to the throbbing bundle of nerves beneath the material and rubs at your clit. His teeth softly graze your nipple, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through you, coiling into a tight knot deep within your abdomen. Your hips buck uncontrollably, the waves of ecstasy building until you cry out in bliss as a powerful orgasm crashes over you. This sensation, unlike any self-induced pleasure, is intense, overwhelmingly pleasurable, and leaves you feeling incredibly sensitive.

A scorching inferno engulfs your entire being, setting your senses ablaze. As the Alien materializes before you, your mind spins with a heady mix of anticipation and arousal. His hands, resembling those of a primal reptile, explore the landscape of your body with a possessive hunger, his fingers delicately pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples.

   His commanding presence now hovers above you, his large, dome head nestled against your bosom, as his mouth hungrily claims your areola, a dark, sinuous tongue gliding sensually across your taut nipple, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations in its wake, his teeth tantalizingly graze the puckered flesh. 

 “No, no more!”  Tears well up, pricking the edge of your lower lashes, as you defiantly shake your head. Drool escapes your mouth, cascading down your chin, while your feeble hands weakly attempt to push him away. Your hips involuntarily buck as the Predator's hand stealthily slides into your shorts. 

  A surge of slickness drools from your pulsating core as he expertly parts your folds, effortlessly locating your swollen clit. The coarse yet drenched tips of his fingers expertly manipulate your sensitive nerves, eliciting a chorus of moans and writhing movements. Your hands desperately clutch his wrist, your hips convulsively jerking and twisting in response.

His serpentine tongue finally grants respite to your tender nipple, but instead, it ventures closer to your ear. The gravelly, otherworldly timbre of his voice commands you to cum,  causing you to shriek as an intense climax engulfs you. Your entire being convulses as he persistently stimulates your hypersensitive clit. 

   Only when you emit soft whimpers and desperate pleas does he cease his assault. As your lungs gasp for air and your thighs quiver, you regain your ability to breathe, your eyes widening when you notice the bulging, pulsing thickness of his cock nestled between your calves. 

 “Please, no. Too big” You whimper softly, trying to roll over onto your stomach and crawl away from him. Ahn'thu ignores your feeble resistance, grabbing your thighs and turning you back onto your back. He spreads your legs apart, bending them towards your chest to expose your messy pussy. With a hungry look in his eyes, he rubs his cock against your wet folds, coating himself in your arousal.

 A sense of shame intertwines with an intoxicating thrill, coursing through your veins. You had been wanting to feel his cock deep inside you, to bask in the delightful heat of his cum cascading upon your quivering walls.

With a gentle nudge, the head of his pulsating shaft teases your throbbing clit, and you shudder, biting your lip. The Yautja is well aware of the challenge that awaits, as your tight and seemingly untouched pussy appears small and snug. Your plush lips part, forming a perfect 'o', while the room is filled with the sweet and genuine symphony of your moans.

    Lost in the throes of ecstasy, your eyes roll back, providing him with the perfect opportunity to thrust forward, filling you completely with his long cock. The whimper of pain that escapes your lips only intensifies his desire, causing him to jerk involuntarily within you.

  Your head writhes against the furs as your lips part to take in a breath, shaking your head once more, palms resting against his toned stomach to push him out of you. “A-ah, s’too big. Take it out!” He goes silent, stilling inside of you, eyes flitting over your tear-soaked face. His chest rumbles in a purr and your pussy clenches deliciously around him. 

At the feeling, Ahn'thu's body becomes restless, unable to remain still. Your velvety walls, sticky and warm, possess an irresistible hold on him, refusing to accommodate his size. He watches with awe as your figure arches, your breasts swaying and jiggling with each vigorous thrust.

  Already you're fucked silly, the thickness of his cock grinding mercilessly against your g-spot as you find yourself cumming hard and long. Your fervent cunt tightens and throbs around him, leaving a creamy ring of cum on his length.   

 "More."  You sob dumbly and shakily reach down and spread your folds open, watery eyes locking with him and tucking your lip into your mouth, rivulets of drool dribbling down your chin. As the Yautja thrusts into your eager pussy relentlessly, you release a soft whimper, surrendering to the ecstasy that consumes you. The alien's monstrous cock, unlike anything you've ever experienced, fills you to the brim, stretching you in ways you never thought possible.

    Your body quivers uncontrollably, yet you strive to regain composure, your breaths heavy and labored. A surge of pleasure electrifies your hips as a teasing finger brushes against your throbbing clit before vanishing. Another finger traces a tantalizing path along your inner thigh, skillfully finding your clit once more, tracing rough figure eights upon the bundle of nerves. Waves of pleasure crash over you relentlessly as your pussy convulses sporadically, each orgasm more intense than the last.

Ahn'thu lets out a primal roar as he spills his seed into your awaiting cunt and keeps it there, maneuvering your body into a mating press. The hot slosh of his cum filling you have you orgasming again and you whimper out his name, back arching. The Yautja looks down at your worn-out form and purrs softly, gently resting his forehead against yours. As your breathing steadies, you drift off to sleep in his arms. He keeps you like that,  ensuring his seed finds its place within you, determined to impregnate you with his offspring.

[petermorwood]

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

[wizardpink]

@iamanoccasionaldoodler

Okay so,

There seems to be this negative reaction to the finale from a lot of Devil's Minion fans and I don't understand it for a lot of reasons, but one of them is ... I don't get why people are upset that, when read at it's worst, Armand and Daniel are seemingly not on good terms after Daniel is turned. I keep seeing this belief that Armand "abandoned" him, which I think is fully pulled from y'alls collective ass, and a disappointment that Daniel would call Armand a "fucking asshole."

But the thing about Armand/Daniel everyone seems to be forgetting is that even in the source material, they first had to tear each other down to their bare bones before they could see each other well enough to love one another -- REALLY love one another. Because Armand is a russian nesting doll of lies, masks, and emotional walls, and with Daniel, idek if I can explain it properly, but I think its some combination of Armand needing to break him a bit to get him on his level of broken freakitude, and also Armand not being able to relate to the 20th Century Human period and needing to drill down into Daniel's core, straight down into the monkey brain that every homo sapien has shared for eons, before he can find something he understands.

If we were to ever get a proper Devil's Minion storyline on this show (and we will), they've laid the perfect groundwork by having Daniel EVISCERATE Armand right to his face, slicing his Gorgon's knot of lies and schemes in half and leaving it lay on that table. And Armand's face! HIS FACE! He can't believe it! Seventy-seven years with Louis who never could unravel all the strings, or simply didn't care to even bother. And THIS guy who seemingly hates him found Armand fascinating enough to try. AND succeed!

And why wouldn't he? Daniel may not have remembered until they were nearing the end of the interview, but Armand SHOWED Daniel what was beneath the mask years ago, the very first time they met. The jealous, insecure, desperate creature that was hiding under there, that IS Armand to Daniel.

I'm getting off track here, but what I'm trying to say is that as much as Armand turning Daniel in the books is SUCH a flawless scene, ultimately, if you believe in the infinite and eternal nature of their love story, it doesn't matter whether Armand turned Daniel before they fell for each other, afterward, during a break-up or at the climax of their most romantic streak. Like Lestat said, "We'll be together ten thousand nights, a hundred thousand. What we're doing is hard."

So maybe Armand turned Daniel shortly after Daniel stripped him bare in front of Louis, and Louis was so disgusted by what he saw, he threw him into a stone wall. Daniel could have run, too. For some reason, he didnt. Armand could have killed him in an instant, sitting at that table or after Louis left. He didn't. Armand made a conscious decision to tie himself to this man who just exposed him for ETERNITY. Because as horrific an experience as it was, as devastating and life-altering, he was seen.

"It is difficult to explain how his words disarmed me, how efficiently succinct and impenetrable his argument was. All my conceptions, even my guilt and my wish to die, seemed utterly unimportant, and I completely forgot myself and the barbaric scene that surrounded me. For the first time in my life, I was seen."

Louis said those words about Lestat as he described being made a vampire, when he kissed Lestat on the altar.

That feeling, of someone cutting to the core of you and telling you exactly what you are as no one else has ever been able to understand, made Louis accept the Dark Gift from Lestat.

And it made Armand give that Gift to Daniel.

[theorphicangel]

𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

no warnings. just soft for this man

The room is still; nothing but the pitch black night and the sound of heavy snores surrounding your four walls.

You suddenly find yourself awake and with an uncomfortable twist of your head, your eyes squint at the bloodshot-red digits of your bedside alarm which reads 4:24 am.

The sun hasn’t come up yet.

But you’ll wait. Just like it always waits for you.

A stream of moonlight falls upon your bedroom floor, the curtains not fully shut. Normally this would result in the immediate urge to shut them properly. But right now you don’t feel that urge.

Probably because there’s a heavy weight across your waist which prevents you from moving. Miguel’s arm wrapped snugly around you, keeping your body close to his. You can feel his chest rise and fall, a soothing rhythm throughout the night.

With help from the sole source of light in the room, you can just about make an outline of Miguel’s face. His snores are slightly muffled by his pillow as he sleeps on his stomach. Physically, he’s close to you; your face almost touching his, his thigh practically smothering your right leg and the gentle caress of his fingertips on your waist.

Yet, you can sense the distance between the two of you. One of you is dreaming and the other isn’t.

Nine times out of ten, he’s always been the one who wakes before you. Many times before have you woken to an empty bed; Miguel’s excuse was that he was feeling restless, instead preferring to get started on breakfast while he waits for you to awake. It’s a rare sight to actually see him by your side in the mornings.

Which is partly why you don’t hesitate to grasp this opportunity with both hands, studying him like your favorite art piece at the local museum.

You begin to Imprint his features into your mind or at least as much as you can in the limited lighting: his chiseled jawline and high cheekbones stand out to you as well as the curve of his nose and the length of his lashes. You begin to study the way his dark brown locks fall across his forehead, unstyled and messy and fluffy – just the way you like it.

You notice how all the faint lines of stress seem to melt away as he succumbs to slumber, his brows relaxed and lips parted. The corners of your lips upturn at the thought of teasing him for his slight drooling or even better yet his sleep talking. It’s only a few incoherent mumbles here and there but you’ll still tease him nonetheless.

He’ll deny it of course, claiming you have no proof, a banter that you’ll begin later whilst you sit on the counter and watch him make breakfast for the two of you. You may not always be a morning person but it’s moments like those which motivate you to get up and out of bed the most.

Gently, you bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your touch is soft, careful not to disturb him from his sleep. You’re not sure how much he’s been getting recently. As your palm makes contact with his skin, you can feel your heart swell. A gooey, sticky sort of emotion sticking between the gaps of your ribcage – a large part of you thinks it’s love but it’s too early to tell.

How would he react, you think, if you did tell him that you loved him?

From afar or from the perspective of a stranger, Miguel’s personality seems to be stoic. He’s someone who takes his work and craft seriously, seeming to have no speciality for jokes or games.

At least that’s what it looks like on the outside.

For years he’s built up these walls which seemed to be impenetrable and unrelenting. To others it was a sign to keep their distance, a warning to stay away but to you it was a sign of someone who was desperate to be loved. To be loved and held by someone in this lifetime even if it was only temporary.

Like a shadow you slipped in through the cracks, transitioning from something which he initially thought would be temporary into something that seems worthwhile.

Just like the grip he has around your waist in this current moment you can tell that he’s scared you’ll disappear. Now that he’s found you he really doesn’t want to let you go.

You won’t tell him yet, you think. You won’t express your sudden realization of wanting to be around him all time, wanting to learn everything about him, wanting to be indulged in every single thought that he has, even the weird, stupid ones.

You want to continue your late night conversations that run until 4am but only feel like five minutes. You want to continue feeling his body relax in your arms each and every time you surprise him with a hug from behind. You want to feel like home for him as he does for you.

You want to tell him this and more but a small injection of anxiety seems to prevent the words from forming on your tongue. It’s a sworn secret kept between yourself and the moon.

And you think it’ll stay a secret for a little longer, just until you figure out a way to find out if he feels something similar, just until the sun comes up again.

tysm for reading!! reblogs are very much appreciated :)

[beegomess]

T.R. || Do you know her? 'Cause I'm addicted

Summary: An enigmatic friendship between you and Tom evolves into an intense and dangerous romance, leading you both to explore dark magic and gain followers, while the weight of guilt and a dark destiny unfolds for those who aided you. Warnings: None

A/N: This imagine can be related to the chapter 'Loving You Forever,' serving as a sort of origin story, or it can be read independently.

Requests are open!

There were those who believed that you had been completely consumed by love, that your vision was clouded by passion. The professors viewed you with a mix of pity and curiosity, and the other students thought you were just another victim enchanted by the web woven by Tom Riddle. To many, you were the typical young woman captivated by the beauty and charm of a boy shrouded in mystery—an innocent girl who, fascinated by his enigmatic aura, had let her own feelings drag her into his orbit.

But this view did not do justice to your true essence. If you were merely a young woman attracted by Tom’s allure, you would never have approached him with the determination you showed. Tom had always been an enigma, a mystery that inspired adoration from many but rarely unconditional loyalty. Girls dazzled by his magnetism offered to follow his dark paths, some even willing to commit to their own shadows to gain his favor.

What few understood was that, in truth, Tom was drawn to your own inner darkness. In you, he saw an even deeper reflection of his own complexity. Your ability to project a seemingly innocent façade, combined with a hidden depth, made Tom fascinated by something he could not fully illuminate himself. While Dumbledore struggled to understand the dark layers of Tom, you seemed to possess an even more impenetrable darkness, a latent force that you revealed only when you wished.

When Tom first saw you in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library, his initial impulse was one of alert and defense. You were surrounded by an aura of mystery that defied any attempt to categorize you easily. Your presence was a break from expectation in a space Tom considered his absolute domain. He entered the Restricted Section with the confidence of one who holds all secrets and mysteries within reach, but you, with your almost challenging indifference, immediately destabilized that balance.

Initially, Tom saw you as an imminent threat. Your carefree posture, your eyes that shone with an almost provocative intensity, and the way you moved with a grace that mixed disregard and challenge were enough to make him feel unsettled. The way you handled the books, the way your presence seemed to fill the environment with a palpable tension—this was a direct challenge to the control he so carefully maintained over his life and interests.

The initial irritation gave way to a growing frustration. Tom began to feel an unsettling sense that you were not only defying his authority but seemed to evade his attempts at manipulation. Your ability to remain aloof from his advances provoked a mix of growing frustration and fascination. What began as an irritating intruder soon became a captivating enigma.

As the days passed, Tom started to notice your presence with an unexpected frequency. In corridors where he had never seen you before, in moments of quiet where he expected to find you—you seemed to be always there, like a shadow moving with disturbing precision. It was as if you were aware of his intentions, or perhaps even provoking him deliberately. This constant feeling of being watched, of every step he took being followed, began to turn into a disturbing obsession.

Then, on a particularly quiet night, Tom decided to follow you. His instincts told him there was something important to be discovered. He trailed you through the castle’s shadows, alert to every movement you made. With almost predatory precision, he watched as you walked with deliberate calm towards the Black Lake, a place Tom knew to be a refuge of tranquility and mystery.

Upon reaching the lake’s edge, Tom hid behind a tree, his gaze fixed on you. He prepared to wait patiently, determined to understand what you might be planning. However, instead of being surprised by some secret plot, you simply waited for him at the lake, as if you had been expecting him all along.

The moon’s silvery light illuminated the lake and reflected in your eyes as you slowly turned towards Tom’s hiding place. An enigmatic smile formed on your lips as you spoke, your voice soft and direct cutting through the night’s silence.

— You know, Tom, you’re not very subtle for someone who prides himself on his cunning. — Your voice was a mix of challenge and knowledge, as if there was an intimacy between you that only you could understand.

Tom emerged from the shadows, his face a mask of curiosity and a touch of frustration.

— And I expected you to be occupied with something more... significant — he replied, the irony in his tone hiding a spark of frustration.

You laughed, a soft and almost melodious laugh that echoed in the quiet night.

— There’s nothing more significant than what is already happening, Tom. You follow me with a disconcerting frequency. It’s almost as if you’re searching for something you don’t know you’re looking for.

Tom looked at you with a piercing gaze, his mind boiling with a mix of emotions. Your presence, which had once irritated him, had now become a central focus of his attention, a mystery he felt an urgent need to solve. The feeling of being observed, the sense that you were always a step ahead—this all contributed to a growing obsession that began to shape his perception and actions.

As your friendship with Tom Riddle solidified, it developed into an intriguing complexity, marked by an aura of mutual distrust. Initially, your relationship was characterized by cautious respect and incessant curiosity. Tom, with his reserved nature and sharp mind, kept a calculated distance, while you, with your intelligence and charm, projected an aura of mystery that was not easily penetrated.

Frequent meetings in the library, surrounded by piles of books and ancient tomes, were the main setting for the evolution of your relationship. The interaction between you was full of subtle provocations and exchanges of looks laden with unspoken meanings. Even when working together to unravel complex spells and enchantments, there was a palpable tension that always lingered. Tom seemed always on the verge of revealing something deeper, while you remained a step ahead, your presence challenging and enigmatic.

One particularly quiet night, after a long and exhausting study session with Professor Slughorn, the dynamics between you shifted significantly. The library was enveloped in a tranquil twilight, illuminated only by the soft light of candles and moonlight filtering through the windows. You were alone, surrounded by open books and scattered notes, immersed in a discussion about a complex spell you had studied.

It was in this intimate setting that the tension between you finally found a more concrete expression. Tom, with an expression that combined curiosity and desire, approached you. His normally calculating and distant eyes were now filled with an intensity that could not be ignored. Without a word, he leaned in, and his lips touched yours in a kiss that began softly and hesitantly but soon transformed into something deeper and more passionate. The kiss was a milestone, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that had built up between you, a confirmation of a connection that went beyond friendship and academic admiration.

After this moment, your relationship transformed into something more intense and romantic. The physical and emotional closeness that developed between you began to shape a complex dynamic. The bond you shared deepened further with the introduction of Professor Slughorn, who became a crucial mentor in your magical explorations. Slughorn’s guidance was essential for developing your skills but also became a starting point for a growing curiosity about advanced and eventually dark magic.

You and Tom began seeking Slughorn’s help more frequently, drawn by his vast experience and knowledge. Slughorn, enchanted by the potential both of you displayed, agreed to mentor you, providing access to rare tomes and teaching complex spells. However, this mentorship began to focus on darker aspects of magic. Your dedication and enthusiasm for these studies were apparent, and Slughorn started to notice that your interests were veering towards darker practices.

As you and Tom delved deeper into these studies, Slughorn’s influence, though initially beneficial, began to show its consequences. The professor started to feel the weight of his responsibility. The guidance he had provided, combined with your ambition and curiosity, led to deeper involvement with dark magic. Slughorn found himself regretting his role, realizing that his mentorship had somehow facilitated your inclination towards dangerous practices. The guilt of having contributed to this dark path became a heavy burden on his conscience.

Your presence, now marked by an intense romance and a joint quest for dark knowledge, did not go unnoticed by the other students and the faculty. Gossip began to spread through the school like wildfire. Girls, many of whom had watched you with a mix of envy and admiration, now whispered about your relationship with Tom. Your transformation from a popular and kind figure into someone involved in a tumultuous romance with an equally intriguing figure caused a frenzy among the students.

The buzz about your relationship and increasingly dark studies began to attract the attention of the professors. Dumbledore, with his perceptive gaze and constant concern for the students, began to watch you with caution. Other professors also started to keep a close eye, worried about the influence that your intelligence and fascination with dark magic could have on Hogwarts' balance.

As time went on, the future awaiting you and Tom Riddle began to unfold with disturbing clarity. The intense relationship and the pursuit of dark magic you fueled were set to trigger a series of events that would forever alter the fate of Hogwarts and beyond. The growing influence of Tom, now accompanied by rumors of followers emerging in a sinister manner, indicated the beginning of a dark and dangerous movement. The weight of guilt fell on those like Slughorn, who had contributed to this trajectory, lamenting the influence they had wielded and the consequences now unfolding. Your transformation from enigmatic students to leaders of a dark cause not only defied established norms but also signaled a future full of conflict and challenges, where past choices and mistakes would become integral to an increasingly dark and unpredictable destiny.

____________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[white-fox-1415]

Late nights and soft saviors

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Genre: Comfort? Fluff?

Summary: Dean has a nightmare but a soft little something comes to the rescue

Warnings: none, has one curse word

A/N: somebody hold this man and tell him it’s all gonna be ok 😭

Dean and y/n had a bit of a rivalry going on to say the least. When she first moved into the bunker, on account of Bobby’s recommendation, her and Dean clashed almost instantly. She was smart and mouthy and absolutely loved correcting him and back-talking him. But Dean being the sassy man he is, often retorted with a clever comeback, building a small fued between the two hunters.

It wasn’t like they hated each other or anything. They were more like frenemies, though they’d never admit it. Some would even say there were other types of tension to be lingering between the two hunters.

It wasn’t long until y/n found out about Dean’s frequent nightmares, considering that their rooms shared a common wall. She would hear his mumbling late at night, or the sound of the tv he used to drown out his thoughts. She felt a bit sorry for him, even if she never let it show.

She was almost like Dean in that sense. Hesitant to show emotion, to show people she was vulnerable. Her heart was locked away, surrounded by a wall, just as fortified as that of the city of Jericho— impenetrable, or so she thought.

But unbeknownst to her, Dean was slowly chipping away at her walls, starting to weasel his way into her heart with every snide remark, or witty comeback, but especially the stares she pretended not to notice or return.

***

One night she was up especially late, trying to finish a book she had started a few days prior. She did in fact finish the book, and as she was returning it to the lofty stack in the corner of her room, that’s when she heard it— the pleas, the mumbles, the groans.

Dean was having another nightmare. A bad one. Y/n stood there of a moment, conflicted. She could pretend she didn’t hear anything, act oblivious, and just go to bed… or she could go try and wake Dean, maybe comfort him, make sure he was ok.

After one instinct won over the other, she began to head for her door, picking up a small stuffed teddy bear she had on her bed, one that had a lot of meaning to her. She padded over to Dean’s door and knocked. It wasn’t loud enough to wake him so she knocked louder. She heard groans and cusses on the other side of the door as the man woke from his sleep. She heard him make his way to the door so she quickly set the bear on the floor and rushed quietly back to her room.

When Dean opens the door he didn’t see anyone and was rather confused as he looked down the hall. That’s when he noticed it, the bear. “The fuck?” he mumbled as he bent over to pick it up. He recognized almost immediately, even in the dark, as he made he way back into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, just looking at the bear in his lap, playing with it a bit, moving its paws around, as he fell deep into thought.

Why’d she do that? Does she know about the nightmares? Could she hear me through the walls? Does she hear me every time? Does she pitty me? Does she care?

He sighed deeply and lied back down in bed, propping the bear up next to his face. He continued to stare at it for a bit before he hesitantly took it into his hold again, even going as far to bring it up to his face and smell it. Amber and vanilla. Smells just like her, He thought. And with that he closed his eyes pulling the bear closer to his chest, setting his masculinity to the side for a while and indulging in the comfort of a soft stuffie, something he seldom experienced in his childhood.

Before he knew it a single tear was sliding down the side of his face and dripping onto his pillow. Not long after he was reaching for his phone and typing out the simple message,

“Thank you”

before attempting to surrender himself to sleep once more. She read the message and smiled into her own pillow and she drifted off to sleep soon after.

[millenianthemums]

Cross-posting the first chapter of the Bill & Mabel Friendship AU fic from Ao3 to tumblr! I thought it would be fun to do some chapter art for it. Find the fic on Ao3 here!

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Bill Cipher woke up in darkness.

That was what he thought at first, anyway. Darkness. Pitch black, impenetrable darkness, but nothing that worried him. Just a simple thought and he could light up his surroundings.

He tried. Nothing happened.

That didn’t mean anything, he thought, pushing down a momentary surge of panic. He just needed to focus. He could concentrate better if he snapped his fingers.

He tried. That didn’t work either. He couldn’t snap his fingers. Why couldn’t he snap his fingers? Where were his fingers? Where were his hands?

The panic surged forth again. He tried to relax, but a thousand questions were piling up in his mind. Where was he right now? How did he get here? Why couldn’t he tell where his hands were? It was dark, sure, but he couldn’t even feel them. He couldn’t feel anything . He tried to send his vision outward, reaching his mind out to feel around for a depiction of himself to look through. A better vantage point would help him orient himself. It could be anything. A bit of graffiti scrawled on a dumpster would be enough. Anything that would let him see something other than darkness.

He couldn’t find anything. Why couldn’t he find anything? There were always options, billions of options, billions of little eyes scattered across billions of worlds like uncountable spy drones. Almost too many to choose from, that was the only problem. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sought one out and not found one. He kept trying to push his mind further, to try and push through the darkness, but it seemed like it went on forever. He thought he was gasping for breath from the effort, he must have been, but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t feel himself breathing. He tried calling out. He couldn’t hear his own voice.

The panic overflowed. What was happening to him? What was this place? How did he even get here?! He tried to wrangle his unraveling mind enough to mentally retrace his steps. The last thing he remembered, he’d been in the Fearamid. He’d been celebrating. All his millenia of work had finally begun to pay off, countless eons spent watching and waiting and carefully prodding at history were about to come to fruition. Weirdmaggedon was finally here. At long last he was about to complete his life’s work, to complete the universe, to finally have everything he’d always deserved. He just needed one equation to collapse the barrier between him and reality. Ford was just about to hand it over when–

Ford.

It all came flooding back. It was Ford. Or, no, it wasn’t Ford, it was a trick . He and his brother had tricked him, trapped him in the wrong mind, and he’d been too caught up in the fervor of victory to realize it until it was too late. Until the jaws of the trap had slammed shut behind him, cutting off his exit, no escape, no way to backtrack, nowhere to run from the flames closing in, from Stanley towering over him, and then…

And then.

His mind scattered as horror tore through it. Was this death? Was this his afterlife? Was this how he’d spend the rest of eternity, an orphaned mind cut off from all senses, floating in the void? Trapped alone with his thoughts forever? He tried to call out again, to scream for help. There had to be somebody somewhere who could hear him. Somebody who could end this. He couldn’t stay like this. Torture would be better than this. If this universe really wanted to punish him so badly, it could set him on fire, or tear him apart into atoms, or pluck all his organs out one by one every day for eternity. Anything. Anything but this. Anything but nothing, forever.

Eventually, Bill accepted that trying to scream wasn’t working. He couldn’t even feel his own throat to know if the sound was escaping. And even if he was really screaming, who would answer? Who would listen? The Henchmaniacs had probably all split as soon as they saw the party was over. None of them were exactly “ride or die” types. They stuck around while the music was playing, but he knew they’d never stay late to pick up the solo cups all over the house. It had never been a problem before. He’d always been able to keep the music playing, keep stringing them along with promised glory and well-placed threats. But now? Forget it. They were all long gone by now.

And who else was there? Was there any other living creature left out there in the multiverse who knew who he was and didn’t have it out for him? His one last hail mary seemed to have fallen on deaf ears. There was no sign of anybody. No sign that anyone cared at all.

He was glad, for just a moment, that he couldn’t feel his face. He didn’t want to know if he was crying. He never gave himself time for self-pity if he had any choice. But now the only thing he had left was time. All the time he could ever need to torture himself with.

All he’d wanted to do was fix things. To make everything better. To make everyone see that without all their stupid rules, everything could be better than they’d ever let themselves imagine. He could have shown them. He’d tried to show them. That was all he’d wanted to do. And this was the thanks he got for it?!

It could have been any amount of time that he spent in that place, stewing in rage and despair. It could have been days or weeks or maybe years, it really didn’t matter. All that mattered was that eventually, he ran out of energy. He gave up trying to scream loud enough to reach his own ears. He just focused on slowing his mind to a crawl. Stopping his thoughts. Trying to just fade away into the darkness, waiting to see if maybe someday something would happen.

Nothing happened for a very long time.

But eventually something did.

The first thing he noticed was a sound. Soft and gentle, reverberating through the void. Bill snapped to awareness, his mind spinning wildly as he tried to remember how to think. He’d heard something. He’d heard something. Someone else was here.

“WHO’S THERE?!” He winced at the sound of his own voice. He almost didn’t even recognize it; it was strained and ragged, on the verge of giving out completely. He didn’t care. He could hear it. That was what mattered right now.

The sound returned, and this time he caught what it said. A voice, speaking a single word. “Bill.”

“WHO IS THAT?! WHERE ARE YOU?!?” he roared, desperately scanning the void in front of him.

“Bill! Stop screaming. I’m right next to you.”

With a start, Bill realized the voice was directly behind him. He found that he could move again, turned around, and was instantly flashbanged by a searing ray of pink light. Floating before him was a massive pale creature, all soft rounded angles, with a long finned tail and a remarkably stupid-looking face.

Bill would recognize them anywhere. He let out a hoarse laugh. “DECIDED TO SHOW UP AFTER ALL, HUH? YOU SURE TOOK YOUR SWEET TIME! WHAT, YOU GET HELD UP IN TRAFFIC WHILE I WAS STUCK ROTTING IN HERE?!”

“I was waiting for you to calm down,” the Axolotl said.

Bill’s eye bulged. “YOU WERE– YOU COULD HEAR ME?!? YOU MEAN THIS WHOLE TIME YOU WERE– YOU COULD’VE– AND YOU JUST–?!?” His dumbfounded stuttering slowly turned to broiling rage. “YOU– DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I JUST WENT THROUGH?! YOU WERE JUST FLOATING THERE WATCHING ME WHILE I WENT THROUGH THE TENTH CIRCLE OF HELL RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?! IS THAT HOW YOU GET YOUR SICK KICKS?!? BECAUSE I CAN DO YOU ONE BETTER IF YOU WANNA SWITCH THE ROLES AROUND, YOU MISERABLE PINK–” his voice cut out halfway through the insult. He grabbed at his face and found it was numb.

“I can come back later if you’re not ready yet.” The Axolotl’s voice was completely flat.

“WHAT–? NO!!! NO NO NO WAIT!!!!!” Bill threw his arms out desperately, trying to grab for them. He didn’t get anywhere close, but they stopped in their tracks anyway, looking back at him.

“I– I’M FINE. I’M CALM. SEE?” He kept his arms raised in surrender to demonstrate. “I’M CALM, I SWEAR. JUST… DON’T LEAVE ME IN HERE AGAIN.”

The Axolotl stared at him with their blank, dopey expression. He kept as still and quiet as he possibly could.

“Alright,” they finally said. “If you’re ready, we can discuss the terms of our contract.”

“YES. TERMS. CONTRACT. I’M READY.” Bill forced himself to sound calm and collected and not at all like he wanted to crush his conversation partner’s big stupid pink head in his clawed hand. The instant their deal was made and he was alive again, this damn amphibian was getting an all-expenses-paid one-way trip to a snow globe full of acid.

“I've had time to think things over," they said. "There is a certain protocol I usually follow here, but these past few months watching you in here have made me think it might not work well for you. So here's how we'll do this. I will grant you a return to life…”

“YES! FANTASTIC. LET’S GET GOING ON THAT, HUH?”

“...but I have some terms that you’ll need to agree to first.”

Bill sighed. He suspected this was coming. No such thing as a free lunch. “LAY ‘EM ON ME.”

“I will return you to life. I will return your body to its original state, exactly as it was when you last had it; no more, no less. All I ask is the promise of one favor in return.”

It wasn’t like he had a choice, but he didn’t risk complaining. “WHICH IS?”

The Axolotl stared placidly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Bill stared back. “SO… WHAT. IT COULD BE ANYTHING? JUST WHATEVER YOU FEEL LIKE?”

“It won’t endanger your life,” the Axolotl said. “And you will be capable of doing it. But beyond that… yes.”

Bill laughed humorlessly. “THIS IS A BIT, RIGHT? THIS IS A JOKE?”

“No, Bill.”

“SO YOU’RE ACTUALLY MAKING ME SIGN A BLANK CHECK HERE. UNDER THREAT OF DEATH.”

“I’m not threatening death.” A hint of annoyance breached the Axolotl’s calm demeanor. “I’m offering you life. A way out of this mess you’ve made. And those are my terms.”

“THE MESS I’VE… ?! YOU’RE PINNING ALL THIS ON ME?!?” Bill exploded. “THIS HAPPENED TO ME! I GOT STABBED IN THE BACK AND MURDERED!! AND I’M STILL WAITING TO HEAR THESE ‘TERMS’, BUD! YOU DON’T GET TO JUST HAND ME A BLANK CONTRACT AND FILL IT OUT LATER, THAT’S NOT FAIR !!”

The Axolotl’s dot eyes narrowed to thin slits. “Of course. ‘Fair’. Just like all the famously clear, mutually beneficial, deeply ‘fair’ deals you’ve made.”

Bill clammed up. He couldn’t go off like this. If the Axolotl decided they were fed up, he knew they wouldn’t stick around. And they might not come back. He had no other choice but to listen to their brain-dead, moralistic lectures and nod his head like he agreed. So, reluctantly, he did.

“I’m offering you one last chance,” the Axolotl continued. “A return to your original, physical body. A chance to start over and make things right. All I ask is one small favor in the future, when I return. If that’s not fair enough for you, I’m happy to leave.”

Bill dragged his hands down his face. If he said what he was really thinking, there was no way he’d ever get out of here. There was no sense dragging this out any longer. He didn’t want to listen to this smug bastard prattle on for one more second. There would be time for revenge later; right now he just wanted out of this place.

He extended a hand. “FINE. DEAL.”

The Axolotl grasped Bill’s hand in a massive pink paw. As the void around them began to fade from black to gray, a thought that had been gnawing at the back of his mind suddenly surfaced. When they’d laid out their deal, the Axolotl had been worryingly specific on one particular detail. “Your original, physical body… no more, no less…”

“HOLD ON,” he said. “WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY–”

“Time to wake up, Bill.”

His vision turned white.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hi can I make a request of a love letters from Castlevania Yandere Vlad, Dracula tepes x gender, neutral, reader and Yandere Trevor Belmont x gender, neutral, reader and yandere Alecurd x gender, neutral, reader and I almost forgot can you make l sure that reader is human? Thank you 🙏❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Dear (Y/N),

In the endless and dark nights, where the moon reflects its light upon us, my heart, once frozen by time, finds warmth in the radiant and ephemeral presence that you are. It's as if destiny, in its mischief, brought us together, even knowing the barriers that the world imposes between us.

I am a being of the night, one who lives in the shadows and finds his shelter in the darkness. You are the light that permeates my existence, the reason why my eyes long for the sunrise.

My immortal being is enveloped by eternal loneliness, but in you, I find the promise of something deeper. A love that defies ages, that transcends the barriers between our divergent worlds.

I beg you to accept this heart immersed in darkness, ready to beat to the rhythm of your light. Allow me to be your guardian, your companion on this uncertain journey.

With eternal love,

Vlad.

My love,

I write this letter in the hope that it will find its way to you, just as my soul always finds yours, despite the darkness that surrounds us. Amid the endless battles against the creatures of the night, it is you who illuminates my heart.

Each night, when the cloak of darkness spreads over us, it is your image that guides me, bringing light to my dark days. Your smile is more radiant than the sun that never dared to touch our home.

As I lift my cross against the children of darkness, your love is my strongest protection, an impenetrable shield against the claws of evil. I feel fortunate to share my journey with you, a beacon of humanity in a world steeped in darkness.

Accept these words as an oath, an eternal commitment to protect and love you in the midst of the darkness. For as long as there is a breath of life in my being, your love will be my anchor in this hellish world.

All my love,

Trevor Belmont.

My sweet love,

I write these words with a heart full of emotions that I can barely contain. From the moment our paths crossed, my life changed in ways I could never have imagined. You brought light to the darkest corners of my existence, dispelling the darkness that consumed me for so long.

It is true that I am a being of the night, a dhampir whose destiny is marked by a nature that many consider threatening. Yet in your presence, I find a peace that goes beyond the barriers between our worlds. Your smile is the sun that illuminates my eternal darkness, and your understanding and acceptance make me feel human again.

I know the road before us is filled with challenges and obstacles that many do not understand. But together, I believe we can transcend the differences that separate us. I promise to protect you with all the strength I possess, even if it means fighting against my own being.

Every beat of my heart, although silent and dead, is a testimony to the deep love I have for you. Even if eternity separates us, know that your name will always be whispered in the most secret corners of my soul.

With all my love,

Alucard.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

act 2 raph/tav dream smut (kinda), jealous devil, mind games(?)🤷‍♂️

Read on AO3

-

Tav bit her cheek. Fought to stand still.

Don’t squirm, he likes it when they squirm.

This was Astarion’s moment. She was supposed to shut up and act supportive while he took the risk, pressing the devil on their tail for information about his terrible scars. She was trying. But that devil kept staring at her, even as he answered questions, posed some of his own, played with words as he was wont to do, saying much without actually saying anything at all. No one else seemed to notice, not even Astarion. It made Tav think she might be imagining it, that she was crazy. The shadows in this terrible godless place made her crazy. The tadpole eating at her brain made her crazy.

Except she could feel those dark, deceptive doe eyes on her, almost like the ardent caress of an angry lover. The little smirk pulling at the left side of Raphael’s pretty mouth also gave him away, but only to someone who paid attention. She was paying attention. Tav didn’t understand, didn’t know what he wanted. All of it just seemed different. He was different. Agitated, maybe, like a moody panther waiting to strike, or…something. If he were in his real form, Tav bet his tail would be thrashing. Whatever it was left Tav feeling strange, on edge – as if her nerves weren’t already pulled taut. It wasn’t fear that gripped her, though. Warm fingers of anticipation danced along her spine instead.

Anticipation for what?

That sensation didn’t ease even after Astarion made his deal and the devil returned to Hell. It curdled thick in her gut, buzzed in the back of her mind. The friends – Karlach in particular – peppered Astarion with demands to know what he was thinking, how stupid it was to make any kind of agreement with a devil. Before long the discussion turned into a spat, the tiefling’s fiery temper and the vampire’s sharp defensive sarcasm clashing. Gale stepped in to diffuse. Tav was too distracted to get involved.

“You alright?” Wyll stepped aside and asked her quietly.

“I’m fine.” Tav shook her head. Smiled reassuringly. “It’s just this place, you know?”

“Mm. I understand. Feels like there’s eyes on you around every corner.”

You got that right.

Tav’s feet were heavy as lead as she climbed Last Light’s staircase. Karlach and Astarion were still squabbling. She left them to argue, exhaustion luring her into a soft bed with musty sheets tucked away in a room on the second floor. Her pack dropped to the ground. She pulled her boots off and collapsed backwards, staring at the ceiling. After a month sleeping on the ground, the ancient mattress felt like heaven. Before she drifted off, she heard Jaheira scolding her companions, threatening to throw them out on their asses if they didn't stop acting like children, but the sounds were far away, as if she were hearing them from a great distance. She thought of Raphael, his smouldering stare, chocolate brown irises flecked with orange peeling away the layers of her soul.

A devil shouldn’t have such pretty eyes…

Tav was in an empty field, a clearing surrounded by impenetrable woods that bled fog and shadow. A swollen yellow moon hung low in the pitch-black canvas of sky. She was cold. Looking down, she saw her feet were bare; realised her entire body was bare. She knew she was dreaming, but she felt alert, aware in a way she normally didn’t experience when she dreamed.

She also knew she wasn’t alone. Something was in that forest, skirting the treeline. Watching her. She was nervous. Intrigued.

“Who’s there?” She called out. Her voice echoed, swallowed up by the darkness. No answer. “Come out! I know you’re there!”

“Little mouse…”

Tav spun around. That raspy, heated whisper came from somewhere behind. She knew that voice.

“Raphael?”

He chuckled. Deep, rich. This time she couldn’t tell from which direction. The sound carried everywhere.

“Show yourself, devil,” Tav snapped. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Aren’t you?” Orange eyes blinked lazily in the dark. Tav could hear the smile in his words.

“No. This is just a dream. You can’t hurt me.”

“Just a dream? Hmm…”

The devil stepped into the clearing. Into the moonlight. He wore his true skin, shirtless, his broad chest spattered with dark hair. His huge leathery wings flexed. His serpent-like tail swayed to and fro. He dipped his head, peering at Tav through thick lashes, his crown of mighty horns. Hungrily consuming her visage with his gaze. Perhaps she should have been self-conscious, mortified that this awful creature was seeing her naked, but it wasn’t really happening. And truth be told...she didn’t mind. She liked Raphael, found him attractive. She could admit that in her own dreams, this deep little secret. No one else would ever know.

“What do you want?” Tav said. Crossed her arms beneath her breasts. She could be bold here. She wasn’t ashamed of her body. In fact she liked the way his hungry stare made her feel, and it didn’t escape her that her dream was presenting the devil in a near-identical way to the amorous encounter she’d had with Astarion at the tiefling party.

“Such an interesting question…” Raphael hummed. He sauntered closer. Circled her. “What do you want, little mouse? Love? Companionship? Or is it merely…attention you seek? Surely you could have asked for it from a better source. I doubt the little vampling’s cold, sticky hands did much to truly ignite your passions…”

“What would you know about igniting passions? Ah…” Tav’s waspish response melted into a breathy sigh when the devil loomed behind her, putting one huge warm paw on her soft belly. She let him. The heat of his touch was maddening. All her tiny hairs stood on end. The points of his cambion claws rested gently against her skin. Just a reminder.

“Plenty,” he promised, speaking right into her ear. She shuddered. At some point he’d lost his trousers, because she felt his hot, hard cock pressing against her back. Its size was intimidating. Promising. Its shape strange, ribbed. Raphael nuzzled her jaw. His other hand cupped her chin, turned her head the way he wanted. She gasped when his forked tongue licked over the faded bite marks on her neck. “The vampire’s stink is all over you. I smelled it as soon as you entered the inn. Do you enjoy the hurt, when he bites you? Do you enjoy feeling him drain your lifeblood with every pathetic, mewling gulp?”

“Maybe,” Tav breathed, allowing him to cup and knead her breast. Arched her back when he pinched her nipple, made it pebbled and puffy. “Are you jealous, devil?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Needy little harlot that you are,” Raphael murmured. He caressed the length of her body from her chin to her navel, claws leaving thin, shallow welts spotted with tiny beads of blood in their wake. His long thick fingers teased her patch of pubic hair. “But you know as well as I do, Astarion won’t satisfy you forever. A vampire’s bite isn’t the only way to dance with death so…erotically.” He settled the tip of his own fangs into the hollow of her throat. Fire danced around the fingers he held so near her clit, fat and flush with blood and desperate for touch. The flames licked, not burning – not yet – but tempting.

Tav sucked in a harsh breath, arousal scrunching her toes in the grass. She desired dark, dangerous men. Men who’d unrepentantly hurt her and then put her back together in their own image. Astarion was perhaps one of those things, but Raphael… She felt the satisfied upwards curl of his lips against her skin, as if he’d read her mind. He wedged his thigh between hers, forced her to spread her legs. His hot, rough skin against her flushed cunt felt incredible. She’d left a smear on him, no doubt. His leaking prick squashed between their bodies had him sighing when she writhed into it. She felt its infernal ridges and barbs, whined thinking about them inside her. It would hurt so good.

“Yes…I suppose you’ll have your fun for now, sweet pet. Let him bite you. Revel in your little deaths. And when you tire of him, when you realise he can’t fulfil your every desperate need…” The devil at last slid his fingers between her mons, rubbed and squeezed her clit, pressed at her soaked, ravenous entrance. Tav moaned, rolled her hips, chasing pleasure Raphael only teased her with. He moved his hand away far too soon, held his fingers coated in her slick in front of her face. Showed her the evidence of her twisted fantasy. “That’s when you’ll come to me. But will I be merciful? Will I sate your desires? Or will I have you beg on hands and knees for me? Beg until you can speak no longer, until your arousal renders you near-senseless? Hmm…I wonder…which would you prefer?” Tav wasn’t given chance to answer. Raphael stuffed his fingers into her mouth. The musky, tart taste of her own cunt and smoky infernal magic flooded her senses. Greedily she sucked those fingers clean, feasting on the breathless groan he released.

“Filthy thing,” he hissed, derisive and debauched, pinching her tongue until she squealed. He smeared her lips with her spit, gripped her throat, claws on her pulse point. “The vampling has no idea, does he? Such a shame.”

“Then fuck me yourself, you pompous asshole,” Tav snarled in frustration. Raphael laughed, low and husky.

“Oh, no. Not yet. You’ve things to do. Choices to make. I’m simply…letting you know what else might be on offer, you see. Giving you something to think about.” The devil nudged the bulbous head of his cock along the divots of her spine, marking her with his cum. His tail snaked around her calf, the tip slowly climbing up her leg like it had a mind of its own. “And you will think about it, won’t you?”

“Raphael…”

“Time to wake up, my dear,” he purred, the moment his tail’s tip pushed itself into her cunt.

Tav jerked awake. Blinked deliriously as the world swam into focus. Her clothes clung to her body, drenched with sweat. Her cunt was slick and aching, a throbbing coil of arousal heavy in her womb. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been sleeping. Someone was snoring in a bed nearby. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, clenched her thighs together. Her body burned where the devil had touched her. Stinging pain on her belly made her lift up her damp shirt. She stared in sheer disbelief at five neat lines of red scratches.

What the fuck sort of dream was that?

-x-

Within the private walls of the devil’s study, the lewd sounds of skin rubbing against skin and heavy breathing filled the stifled air. He sat at his desk with his legs spread, teeth bared, tugging on his fat cock and full balls where he’d freed them from his trousers. His fist couldn’t compare to the tight, wet heat of his mouse’s little cunt, of course, but it would have to do for now. He thought of the way she responded, her body so pliant and her moans so sweet. He thought of how she’d wake up slick and confused and desperate. He thought of how, even if she fucked the vampire again, she’d think about him whether she liked it or not. He exhaled long and hard through his nose as he climaxed, face twisted with satisfaction. Spurts of cum shot over his knuckles, dribbled through his fingers, dripped onto the floor. He sat and basked, his twitching dick softening in his messy hand.

Soon, little mouse. Soon.

[oneshotnewbie]

Reader walks through fire to save Emily Prentiss. That's it, that's the prompt. You can decide what you do with it. Thank you 💖

Authors note: Somehow lately I've had a thing for long oneshots that go well over the actual 1000 words. I just can't stop writing once I start haha. I wish you a nice start to the week ♥

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the slight mention of burn injuries and fainting. The plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

As Special Agent Emily Prentiss and you brought your car to a stop on a remote forest path, the dense treetops reached high into the sky, forming an impenetrable canopy of leaves that barely let in the light of the sun. It seemed as if nature itself wanted to keep a secret as a cold wind blew through the branches, carrying with it the whispers of the leaves.

A brief exchange of glances between Emily and you revealed the determination burning within you as you checked your gear and got your vests ready. As a well-rehearsed duo in the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, you were familiar with the darkest depths of the human psyche and had faced the most dangerous criminals. But even for you, this case was of unusual intensity.

A series of brutal murders had terrified residents living on the edge of the Arkansas grove. The victims appeared to be chosen at random, and every lead the team found at the crime scene led to a dead end. But now a clue had led you here, to this dark place that was far from any civilization.

Together you made your way down the rocky and arduous path deeper into the forest, the cracking of twigs under your boots and the occasional call of a bird accompanied you like a dark melody. Imbued in your minds was the determination to solve this mystery and put an end to the evil that threatened the innocent inhabitants of this remote area.

Eventually you came to a small clearing dominated by a dilapidated log cabin. The centuries-old wooden walls were overgrown with moss and ivy, which covered the abandoned building like a veil. The windows stood empty and dark, like the eyes of a ghost from a bygone era, silently bearing witness to long-forgotten stories.

Emily sensed an eerie presence that seemed to emanate from the place, as if the walls themselves spoke of the horrors they had experienced. But she forced herself to suppress her fear and focused her gaze on the task before you both. Despite the ominous feeling that surrounded the place, your resolve remained unbroken as you prepared to explore the secrets of this mysterious place.             

“Ah, here we are,” you whispered quietly to her as you crouched and crept up to the entrance, gun drawn. "Let's see what we can find and finally close the case."

You entered the abandoned building together, your flashlights cutting through the darkness and illuminating the path before you. A hint of decay hung heavy in the air as the old parquet floors crunched beneath your feet as if revealing the secrets of the building beneath you. But your resolve was still unshakable, and you searched every room with meticulous care, looking for clues that could solve the mystery.

As you began to move further into the next room, Emily paused in her position in the largest room and raised a hand to silence you before you could even begin to speak. You listened intently, and a quiet but distinct sound reached your ears - a gentle breeze that seemed to whisper through the gaps between the door and the frame.

“Over there,” Emily whispered as you returned to her, pointing to a locked door at the end of the hallway. The two of you approached the door slowly, your hearts pounding loudly in your ears as if anticipating the rhythm of the horror to come. With a quick nod, you released the lock on the door and entered the room first.

What unfolded before you chilled your blood. In the middle of the room sat an altar made of weathered stone, surrounded by extinguished candles and mysterious symbols that formed a dark coven around it. On the walls hung grotesque paintings of dark figures whose eyes seemed to pierce you, as if they wanted to explore your soul.

But the horror reached its climax with the sight of the body lying on the altar - a young girl, bound and mutilated, her face contorted in pain while an iron stake protruded from her chest, her breathing long stopped. The sight of her echoed in your mind, a cruel testament to the evil that permeated the place.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" you asked, an ice-cold shiver running down your spine as the ominous scene before you slowly took shape. Emily shrugged, her gaze caught by the gloomy atmosphere as she swallowed hard to maintain her composure. "We have to get out of here and call for backup," she said firmly, but the undertone betrayed the growing concern that threatened to overwhelm her too. She signaled for you to back off as she took a few steps back to give you cover. "This is bigger than we thought."

You nodded in agreement, but before you could take a step, another sound echoed across the ceiling - a soft rustling, followed by an ominous hissing that seemed to be emanating from a hidden pipe, accompanied by the pungent smell of smoke coming from beneath the door.

Panic rose within you as you realized that you possibly were in danger and that the rest of the team might be taking too long to reach you. You were trapped, surrounded by the dark remnants of a ritual space that seemed to harbor evil and now encircled you menacingly.

As you walked up the short steps and opened the door to leave the basement, and hastily return to your vehicle to call for backup, the blockhouse was engulfed in thick smoke.

Emily felt the heat rising on her skin and the acrid smoke entering her lungs as she coughed and pressed her sweater under her nose to escape the choking smoke. "We have to get out of here!" she shouted over the infernal crackling of the fire, which threatened to spread greedily, as if it was hungry for more fuel.

You nodded in agreement and reached for her hand, and together you fought your way through the impenetrable fog, your eyes burning with tears as you searched for a way out of this nightmare. But the fire, which had spread for reasons still unknown, seemed to cut off your path, your every movement blocked by a wall of heat that threatened you and that blocked your view. You didn't know where the exit was. Every step you took brought you closer to the certainty that you were surrounded by the merciless forces of destruction that were driving you closer to the abyss with every second.

Fear gripped both of you tightly as you looked around and realized the terrible reality. The flames around you burned higher and higher, their glowing tongues lashing out greedily at everything in their path, spreading an atmosphere of desperation and chaos.

And as you progressed on your way, you suddeny saw the outline of a dark figure. You strained to sharpen your focus, to heighten your senses in this inferno. "The perpetrator! He's here!" You shouted out to Emily, your voice filled with determination as you moved resolutely towards the unknown, clutching your gun tightly, the desire for justice burning in your heart.

But in the rush of the moment, you didn't notice that Emily wasn't following you, her own thoughts torn apart by the urgency of the situation. Her eyes searched desperately for a way out of this blazing hellfire as she fought within herself against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

But as you got closer, you realized with horror that it wasn't the murderer, but just a shadow dancing in the pale light of the flames. A moment of relief quickly gave way to anxiety as you realized that the perpetrator was still lurking somewhere in the dark corners while you had lost sight of him. And now you were separated from Emily, your ally, your anchor in this burning hell.

Emily called out to you, but her voice was swallowed up by the angry crackling of the flames that raged around her like a wild animal. Her heart began to race involuntarily as she looked around and realized the cruel reality - she was completely alone, surrounded by the surging waves of fire that threatened to consume her and destroy her existence.

With her back pressed against the wall, she pressed her flashlight hard into the fog that permeated the room, hoping that the beam of light would attract you and lead you back to her. “Y/n, I’m here!” she cried desperately, her voice laced with the pain of isolation. "I'm trapped in the flames. Follow the light, please!" Her words echoed through the burning room, a silent cry for help amid the raging inferno.

Less than a minute later she heard a faint sound rising above the roar of the fire - the sound of a figure, a jacket over your head, fighting through the flames to get to her.

Emily turned to the side and watched in horror as you emerged from the blazing inferno, your face contorted with pain, your clothes scorched by them, and your skin marked by the cruel scars of the fire. “Oh my god, y/n!” she shouted, her voice filled with fear as you fell the last few inches towards her, her eyes wide in terror. "What have you done?"

You couldn't speak a word; the pain unbearable, your voice paralyzed by the torment of the fire. Your only job was to get your partner safely out of this burning house, so you placed a wet blanket over her head and body before carefully guiding her out of the flames, yourself also hidden under the blanket to protect yourself from further burns.

Her hand gripped yours tightly as she pulled you closer to her, feeling the pain and heat of your skin. "Y/n, you are seriously injured. Let me guide you," she whispered softly as she placed your arm over her shoulder, but the adrenaline rushed through your body, your mind numb from the agony that was coursing through you, her words unheard.

You struggled through the flames, your senses numbed by the unrelenting burn that accompanied you as you leaned heavily on Emily. Every step was agony, every breath a fight against the heat and smoke that threatened to suffocate your lungs. But despite the darkness of the inferno, you did not give up, but continued to fight, driven by the irrepressible will to bring Emily and yourself to safety, out of this hellfire.

As you finally made it out into the open and made your way to safety, a deafening bang ripped through the air, followed by a blinding flash of light that pierced the dark clouds of smoke and bathed the night in blinding daylight. Emily and you were thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion, the impact shattering your bodies as chaos erupted around you.

Fire shot out of the windows of the log cabin and quickly spread to the surrounding trees, the forest itself was going up in flames. The air was filled with an infernal crackling and hissing that shook the ground. The forest immediately became a burning fortress, enveloped in an impenetrable veil of flames that seemed to block any possibility of escape. "Y/n, get up," Emily urged, her voice firm and determined as she leaned towards you, "We have to get out of here. I'm going to take you to the hospital to get you looked after." Her words pierced the chaotic scene, a promise of rescue and hope amid the tumult of flames.

She shook your motionless body, but you didn't move. The adrenaline that had once fueled your senses was gone, and now your body was collapsing like a house of cards blown away by a merciless breeze. Emily gently turned your lifeless body onto its back, an act of tenderness in the midst of chaos that reflected your sacrifice and bravery - you had gone through hell to save her.

Half your body was scorched by the flames, your skin scarred by the fire, and your breathing was shallow and uneven, a faint sign of your struggle to survive.

Emily fought the panic that overcame her when she saw your badly injured body. "Stay with me, y/n," she whispered, her voice cracking with fear as the flames around her licked at the trees and ate through the undergrowth, a warning sign of destruction. "You can do this, you hear me? You have to do this. Please, y/n."

But you didn't move, unconscious and silent as death itself. Emily felt the tears burning in her eyes, but she forced herself to stay strong so as not to give up on you. Her hands rested gently on your bruised skin, a silent vow of loyalty and hope amidst the flames.

Emily pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, her fingers shaking with tension as she dialed the number for her boss, Aaron Hotchner. She raised the phone to her ear, hoping for a connection as the chaos raged around her, the flames spreading unstoppably.

"Hotch, we need help urgently," she said, her voice firm and controlled even as fear burned in her heart. "Y/n is seriously injured, we need firefighters and paramedics here. The whole forest is burning down. Now!"

He reassured her that help and the team was on the way, and Emily put the phone away, her thoughts entirely on you, still lying motionless in front of her. "Please, y/n. Wake up," she pleaded, running her hand gently over your burned neck, as if she could call life back into you through the touch. "You have to fight, you hear me? You can't give up."

The minutes passed like hours as Emily waited, her eyes fixed on you, counting every breath, watching every movement of your body as she evaluated your vitals every second. But nothing changed, you remained motionless, your face expressionless like a mask of ash, and your thoughts swirled in a whirlpool of fear and hope.

Finally, the sound of engines pierced the oppressive silence as firefighters burst through the flames and rushed to your rescue. She was accompanied by the paramedics who immediately lifted you onto a stretcher and took you into the ambulance while she followed you with a worried look, closely watching the rescuers' every move.

The ambulance raced through the mountainous streets, sirens blaring across the countryside, as Emily sat next to you, holding your hand tightly amidst the furious roar of the sirens and the rattling engine.

ᕚ---ᕘ

The bright morning light filtered gently through the hospital room window as you slowly came to consciousness. Every breath was accompanied by pain, every muscle in your body felt like it was filled with lead. A silent struggle against the stabbing pain shot through you as you tried to move, only to be thrown back into the soft hospital bed by a painful retreat.

Emily sat by your bed, her eyes full of concern, her hand gently stroking your fingers as if she was trying to ease your pain with her touch. Noticing you had awakened, a soft smile broke across her lips as she reached for your hand that wasn't injured. “Welcome back, y/n,” she whispered quietly, her voice warm and sensitive. "How do you feel?"

You tried to speak, but your voice was only a hoarse whisper, choked by the pain of your injuries, and you coughed painfully. Emily handed you a glass of water and gently held it to your lips, helping you take a slow sip before continuing. "It's okay, speak slowly," she encouraged patiently. "You've had a tough time, but we're here to support you." Her words were a promise of care and hope in the midst of the darkness you had lived through.

You nodded slowly, your mind raging like wild whirlwinds, flooding with memories of the past mission - the fire, the flames, the heat that had penetrated your skin. And then there was Emily, strong and unwavering, standing next to you and holding you as your body slowly gave out and you tried desperately to get her out of harm's way.

“I remember,” you finally whispered, your eyes cloudy with pain as you tried to form the words through the thick fog of memories. A faint hint of understanding crossed Emily's face as she heard your words, her eyes full of empathy and compassion.

"You literally walked through fire to save me," she spoke quietly, her voice laced with a hint of awe as tears pooled in her eyes, glittering like diamonds in the light.

A faint smile crossed your lips, trembling with exertion, as you slowly raised your hand and placed it gently on her cheek, your touch a delicate promise of love and devotion. “You were inside,” you murmured quietly, your voice a whisper in the quiet of the hospital room. "No fire in the world would stop me from saving you. I can't lose you." The words were a confession that reached deeper than words could, a promise that was anchored in the infinite expanses of your connection.

Emily reached for your hand, her touch as delicate as a gentle breath as she leaned against you, letting her tears flow freely. "Thank you for coming to get me," she spoke, her voice filled with admiration and gratitude. "You are incredibly brave. I was deeply impressed by your courage and willingness to sacrifice. I will always be there for you, just as you were there for me."

Your eyes shined with gratitude and a hint of relief. You knew the road to recovery would be long and difficult, but you also knew you didn't have to walk it alone. You had Emily by your side, strong and unwavering, and the team that supported you. Together you would overcome this challenge, side by side, hand in hand, ready to weather any storm that blew your way.

You knew that the bond between you both was strong, strengthened by the flames of fate you had traversed together. And so began a journey of recovery and growth for you that would bring you closer together than ever before. Every step you took together would show you that the love and connection you felt for each other was stronger than any darkness that threatened you.

[writeriguess]

The night was calm, the full moon casting a soft glow over the rugged terrain of the Canadian Rockies. You shivered slightly, the cool mountain air biting through your thin jacket. You glanced around, the dense forest surrounding you like a dark, impenetrable wall. Despite the chill, you felt a warmth spreading through you as you thought of him.

Logan Howlett, known to most as Wolverine, had been a constant presence in your life for the past year. You had met him by chance, or so it seemed, during one of his solitary excursions into the wilderness. What started as a fleeting encounter had blossomed into something far deeper, a connection that neither of you could ignore.

As you approached the small cabin nestled among the trees, you could see the faint glow of a fire flickering through the windows. Pushing the door open, you were greeted by the comforting scent of wood smoke and the sight of Logan hunched over a table, his intense gaze focused on a map spread out before him.

He looked up as you entered, his rugged features softening slightly as he took you in. "You're late," he grumbled, though the hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth.

You shrugged off your jacket and hung it on a nearby hook. "Got caught up enjoying the scenery," you replied, crossing the room to stand beside him. "What are you working on?"

Logan sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his thick, unruly hair. "Just trying to figure out our next move. Things are getting complicated out there."

You placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles. "We'll figure it out," you said softly. "We always do."

He looked up at you, his eyes reflecting a mixture of weariness and affection. "Yeah, we do," he murmured, reaching up to take your hand in his. "Thanks to you."

You smiled and squeezed his hand, the familiar surge of warmth spreading through you. "We're a team, Logan. Always have been, always will be."

He stood then, pulling you into his arms. The embrace was strong, comforting, and you felt the weight of the world lift from your shoulders, if only for a moment. Logan's presence was like a shield, protecting you from the harsh realities that lay beyond the walls of the cabin.

As you rested your head against his chest, you listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a reminder of the man behind the claws and the adamantium skeleton. He was more than just a warrior; he was a protector, a lover, and above all, a survivor.

"Let's get some sleep," he murmured into your hair, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Tomorrow's a new day."

You nodded, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Together," you said firmly.

"Together," he agreed, a rare smile lighting up his features.

You made your way to the small bedroom, the simple furnishings a stark contrast to the complexities of the world outside. As you lay down beside Logan, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew you could face them as long as you had him by your side.

Logan wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "Goodnight, darlin'," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

"Goodnight, Logan," you replied, closing your eyes and letting the sound of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

In the quiet of the night, with the moonlight casting a gentle glow over the room, you knew that your love for Logan was timeless, a bond that would endure beyond the veil of time itself.

Requests are open.

[silentium-symphony]

A Lamb in Wolf's Clothing (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) hey ya'll! i'm so sorry for going MIA for a few months--as some of you may know, I have just recently graduated from college, so there are a lot of big changes happening in my life right now! i appreciate your continued patience with me :) this fic was commissioned by the lovely @mistressofdeathsblog! thank you for giving me such a fun prompt, I had a lot of fun trying smth new and I hope you enjoy it too!

before you start reading, please take special note of the cw below. also, please remember that this is not a healthy relationship you want to emulate and is written for the sole purpose of entertainment. if you are in a relationship that strips your autonomy and you feel unsafe bringing this issue up to the offending party/parties, please reach out to someone you trust. there is no power in staying if there is no freedom to leave. stay safe out there.

and ofc, since this is smut, minors do not interact with this piece.

cw: dubcon, afab!reader, ooc!link since i highly doubt Hylia's Hero would be so life-alteringly possessive of their lover, tp!link, reader being chased, reader being held against their will, blood, tight spaces, swearing, name-calling, dumbification kinda??, cunnilingus, doggy, mirror/standing sex

wc: 5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Sweat and blood dribbled down your forehead, stinging your eyes with a salty, metallic bite. Thorn-kissed hands grasped and blindly waded through thick patches of bramble. The dark, bristling whips that surrounded you worked every exposed piece of skin into a raw, bloody mess quivering from the forest's cruelty.

You couldn't care less.

The birds overhead guffawed at your efforts as splotches of pale moon danced mockingly, titillatingly along the cold earth. You chased every moon patch with the frenzy of an escaped convict a morning away from freedom.

Because that's what you were, really.

The beginnings and ends of thoughts knotted and frayed into each other, flurrying your head into a cohesive garble. Just how big was this forest? It looked like a sprawling mess from the fortress you were locked up in, but it was absolutely impenetrable now that you were in the thick of it. It was as if the very woods were enchanted to keep you from ever escaping.

A ring of pain hooked the topside of your foot, propelling all of your momentum downwards and towards the forest floor. You couldn't even scream before you bashed your cheek through a thin layer of crusted mud. The cold soil caked your flushed cheeks--the only shred of relief you've felt since your mad sprint to freedom.

Your spine slinked up into a curl--a pathetic attempt to get up, to begin your chase again, but your battered body refused to endure further abuse. (E/C) eyes flitted about you, trying to interpret the shadows that danced and weaved through the trees.

Running in this state would be pointless. You dug your forearms and elbows to crawl towards an ivy overhang that promised hidden refuge and curled into as tight of a ball you could muster. The silky white dress he gifted you had been ripped past recognition. The airy fabric that once brushed your ankles now clung tightly to your blood-laced thighs, soiled from the toils of flight. You pulled your legs closer; your lungs fought for precious breath against your pounding heart.

What a shame. If only it weren't beating so fast, you might have heard the crack of a single twig located too close for comfort.

From several paces into the unseen was a pair of blue eyes misted over with sinful hunger; your quivering, shorn form was scintillating to watch and feasted his mind with imaginations more heart-racing than the last. Your blood, sweat, and tears mixing with your natural scent proved to be the most tantalizing olfactory cocktail, scattering his thoughts into overdrive.

He hated the rush he got from seeing you like this--lost and confused without his guidance through these nested thorns, yearning for warmth and safety he knew he could provide (and had been providing since you stumbled into his castle that fateful day).

Why did you leave him? Was he not enough for you? But he'd given you everything! Everything! Freshly made home-cooked meals, tailored clothes that hugged your form, a bed warmed by him, his body...

He could still feel the soft plush of your flesh sinking and dimpling in his hands as he thrust into you with the faux tenderness of a starved man. Your beautiful eyes locked with his own, only leaving to disappear into the back of your head. Your mouth agape to let the cutest sounds escape...

If you were happy with him, why were you leaving him?

Not waking up to your face smooshed into his pillows, not beholding you in all the pretty silk and ribbons he had lying around, not fucking you in every position you could possibly think of, not spending every waking moment with you...

Why, he'd rather die.

If it made you happy, he'd allow the ambrosial drippings of freedom to bead your lips.

If it made you happy, he'd let you delude yourself into thinking you were far enough from the castle to be away from him.

But only for now. Link prided himself on his chivalry and patience, but even that was growing thin from your incessant attempts of escape. He was going to have to show you why it was such a good idea to stay here with him, forever and ever and ever.

You were nodding off now, it seemed. The way your head kept dipping and rising in a futile attempt to stay wary was so adorable, he just had to ravish you right then and there! He had barely managed to stave off his intrusive thoughts as he stalked closer to you, still clinging closely to the dark cloak that hung off twisted branches.

You saw something shift from the corner of your eye; your neck snapped up and a croak clawed out of you.

"Who's there?!"

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Why was it so quiet?

Had it always been so quiet?

Where have the birds gone?

A familiar silhouette emerged from the trees.

"L-... Link..." Your throat, parched and scratched from heaving the cold night air, rang a voice unfamiliar to you.

Azure eyes that once beheld you with all the love in the world now stare back with deadpan coldness. Words need not be exchanged here; his presence alone blew any hope of escape in the next breeze that ruffled his fur.

A calculated step towards you retreated you further into your little alcove, a prayer that the ivy could take you in as one of its own on your lips. There was no telling what he was thinking, or how close to the edge he was. But that look, that hunger.

That familiar, craved look your body knew too well pulsed anxious tingles through your fingertips.

Another step.

Then another.

Another.

Finally,

He was here.

You could feel him, all of him--his hot breath against your arms, his fur bristling against your thigh, his warmth freezing your blood where it ran. You hadn't realized how much you were shaking until you heard the rhythmic shifting of ivy buzzing into your ear.

He pressed his head into your lap, prying you open to make way for him. And you sat there, obeying him like the perfect little doe you were. As he lazily dragged a tongue across your thigh, lapping at the dried blood that crusted your flesh, he looked up. Relief, adoration, love. That stifling comforting, possessive protective obsession love that he had so readily wrapped you in the moment he met you. For a moment, he looked like a lamb in wolf's clothing.

So many thoughts swirled inside you, your brain numbing to prevent overstimulation. But amongst the chaos, a single thought backdropped every complicated emotion you were feeling.

He had found you.

Had it not been for the blood drumming through your ears and temples, you would have thought time had frozen in this purgative state. He was splayed atop you now, seeming to rest from his hours-long stalking; he wasn't crushing you, but it was clear he had all the control in this dynamic. Any undesirable shift away from him, to preserve your own personhood, would most certainly have led to a 'gentle' nudge toward him.

A single cobalt eye lazily cracked open after a million years ticked by. His piercing gaze, though fringed with some life, made it abundantly clear that your race to freedom was placed at an indefinite standstill. He had never once snapped at you, but the fear lodged in your chest informed you not to test him further.

He hauled himself up, joints locked from inactivity popping to life as he arched into a long stretch. His carefree pose hinted at obliviousness--borderline forgiveness--to your impertinence, but you knew better.

Link never forgets.

He eyed you again with a sort of child-like excitement that twisted your gut into a sickening pattern. His tail arced to and fro, painting his excitement in broad strokes. He wedged his snout between the small of your back and the wall and firmly pushed you forward, scooting you a couple inches toward your prison home.

You knew better than to anger him.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Link's skillful navigation through the thorns was unimpeded by your clinging onto him. It had taken hours to get to where you once were, but a quarter of that time for the wolf. The gloomy castle you had called your home for months (years?) broadened into view until you could clearly see its spires puncture through occasional clouds. The moon, basking in its celestial sovereignty, jeered at your return.

Link slipped through a tiny crack in the iron-clad door, made by the wolf confident in its tracking and retrieving abilities. You slugged off him with practiced movements; a sound akin to obscene magic asundering flesh preluded your captor's transformation. Grisly black fur gave way to sand-blonde hair; the worn, patchwork shirt which heralded his humble beginnings as a rancher ran taut against the back you had spent several minutes clambering onto.

He continued looking ahead unblinkingly as you idled a few paces behind him, your chest constricting and mind frenzying with murky anticipation. Your nerves, frayed from adrenaline and brain-altering fear, now swam in the heavy nothingness of silence; you were a breath away from weeping before a tenor tone disturbed the still.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Silently, you both moved through the halls, paying the torchlit shadows the special type of attention one gave to the mundane in moments choked with awkwardness. Worn, freshly torn hands bunched the hem of your dress until your knuckles whitened. A part of you wished to never reach your destination, preferring thickened stillness over the unpredictable inevitable. You rounded a familiar corner and gathered the shreds of your sanity to brace yourself for whatever may come.

The sullen wooden door gave way to the man's heave and you followed him in. A large bathroom decorated only with the essentials filled your view. As Link ran the faucet, your eyes absently glazed over the rickety plumbing he had installed to transport hot spring water to the tub. For the first time since his transformation, he turned to you.

"Strip."

His clear, authoritative tone cut sharper than any thorn that had shredded you. Eyes downcast, your fingers wrought the straps of your dress further, further down your shoulders. Your skin burned from your clammy fingers; you blamed it on the steam that had begun filling the corners of the room and ignored the heavy, heated stare placed on you by the male.

Link followed your dawdling, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt and lifting it to reveal a stomach sculpted by years of farm work and adventuring. The straps of your dress coiled close to your elbows before settling by your ankles. Your hands immediately scattered to cover your exposed parts as Link finished undressing himself, his fully erect length blurred by warm mists and (eventually) a deftly wrapped towel.

He reached over to squeak the faucet shut; the comforting, monotonous lull of running water now halted to scant droplets. After pulling out the small basket of rags and soap, he sat on a bar stool and beckoned you with a lone finger.

"Come here. You're filthy."

You shuffled out of the shredded dress and forward, keeping your eyes trained on the end of the tub where he sat.  The wanton desire for a hot bath waived your concerns over the situation, dulling your fears enough to throw a leg over the edge and sink everything but the top half of your face below the water.

The warm panacea cloaked you in an elixir of ease, and a satisfied groan unintentionally lapsed your lips; your hand figuratively slapped over your mouth when the air honeyed into something...

Sinful.

Link dipped a small bucket into the bathwater and slowly poured it over your head, calloused fingers expertly combing through knotted, crusted strands. The hardened skin tenderly brushing the back of your neck jolted heated memories to the forefront of your mind.

You could still feel the harsh, almost desperate grip laced in your hair as he pounded you from behind, panting sweet promises to give you more for the rest of your lives. Your face, buried in his pillows, blindly nodded along to the specifics of what he had said, your mind too blurred to focus on much else aside from your umpteenth high of the night.

The warm water felt like a cold deluge and a noticeable shiver ran through you. Soapy hands stopped caressing your scalp.

"(F/N)?"

"H-Huh?"

"How about we play a little game?" Link murmured suddenly, absently twirling your locks in his fingertips. Had it not been for the taut fingers interweaved through your hair, your surprise would have been more apparent.

"What... What game?"

"A little game similar to hide-n-seek." He started languidly, as if savoring every vowel that lisped his tongue. "If you can evade my capture until dawn, I will guide you to the forest's edge so you may leave. However..."

Rough fingerpads traced up the side of your bicep as darkened ears caught your quiet, involuntary gasp.

"If I catch you... You're mine. Deal?"

Throat tightening and heart palpitating, your mind fought to keep its last ounce of calm as your captor's hand circled to your front to cusp and knead your--

"What's the catch?" You breathed, somehow managing to divert your attention away from Link's sinful reaches.

"There is no catch, but there are rules." He pecked your cheek, his lips curving into a soft smile that thinly veiled iller intents.

"You are allowed to hide anywhere in the castle grounds and use whatever means necessary to hide from me, so long as neither of us gets seriously injured... The moment you step foot in that forest, I will claim you where you stand. Is that fair?"

Was this a trick?

A sick joke meant to dangle tonight's failure in your face?

Surely it was... But what if it wasn't?

His steady stare that peered shamelessly through your soul conveyed a degree of seriousness and sincerity required to make a truthful statement.

"How do I know that you won't go back on your word?"

"I have never lied to you." He gritted his teeth. "Can you say the same?"

The genuine hurt masking his eyes ached your chest, but the tiniest shred of dignity you had left netted the apology that almost escaped your mouth.

"Is there anything else I should know before I make my decision?"

"No. I have told you everything you need to know and will uphold my end of the deal. The final decision is yours."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Moonlight masqueraded through the gaping windows, streaking drab grey pillars with hints of alabaster. The halls which you have called home for what felt like time immemorial now crowded your vision with a foreign bite, sinking into your flesh an unnerving uncertainty around every corner.

Your neck swiveled on all axes, one eye trained in front of you and the other separating the benign from foe that hid in every dancing shadow. Bare feet pattering against olden stone filled the gaps in between each racing heart beat, drumming your ears in a never-ending symphony of chase.

Legs aching, quaking, begging for proper rest are promptly ignored, outcompeted by the more urgent matter at hand.

Your final gambit for freedom.

You cursed under your breath as you ascended a spiraling staircase, your lungs burning with the rage of a thousand suns from heaving in the cold, arid air. The stone floor kissed knicks into the soles of your feet as you skidded around a corner and madly dashed down the hall, shifting down a narrow crawlspace that branched off from the main hall.

Whispered hisses and curses bounced off the tightening walls as rough-hewn stone jagged into your skin, reopening recently closed wounds from the brambles. You could only pray that Link was far enough away to not pick up on freshly streaked blood.

A familiar carpet--the one from the main hall--filled your view and you slowed your shimmying into a momentary pause. You fought to see through your grimace to peer around the corner and hoped that your heart wasn't beating loud enough to mask the signs of your stalker.

All good...?

You scooted out of that uncomfortable position and ducked towards the exit.

The private gardens opened up to you. Trails of ivy found residence in the cracked grey of decayed walls and the fountain was spewing the most delicious water your parched throat had ever seen. You circled the mini courtyard, your frenzied mind shunting the garden's haunting aesthetics in search of a practical hiding place. To your right was the more open space of the main courtyard, and to your left were the untrimmed topiaries of Hyrulian heroes commemorated only in flora.

Streaks of morning were just beginning to tip the horizon.

Your feet teetered toward the right, but a certain non-human shadow slinked past the threshold. All color drained from your pallor as you scurried around the topiary's wide base and hid behind the cloister's stone pillar. The sounds of flesh ripping and reanimating shot through the air; tears began to freely flow as a carefree whistle ambled closer to you.

"My, my... It's almost daybreak. I must find my beloved soon, or else I'll lose her forever."

The sky was just beginning to tinge a magenta-red.

"Is she... Hiding by the door?"

Boots clicking against stone rang like a departed's dirges. Your clammy fingers dug into the side of your face--a feeble attempt to muffle your whimpering.

"Is she... Behind these topiaries? No? Hm... But I'm getting close, aren't I, (F/N)?"

All strength, all hope, had been sapped from your body; your knees locked and buckled.

"Oh? Have we always had a little walkway back here? What a wonderful surprise! I know my darling would love it here."

Your vision darkened.

Leather nestled softly into your face as the heat of another poured and mingled with the cold stone pressed to your back.

"Guess who?" He sang.

You felt all your muscles simultaneously release their tension; your legs folded in on themselves, but secure arms hooked them under and hoisted you bridal style.

As you were carted inside the dark fortress, the morning sun greeted you in its soft-rayed glory.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The stale castle air flooded your lungs as your body was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. A hand tightened around your wrists and hot, agitated lips locked with yours before your brain could register the cotton plush of your sheets. His other hand feathered up your thigh, learned fingers grazing all your tender spots and teasing your thoughts into a foggy mix of want.

Your figure writhed uselessly under him as he flattened you further into the bed, using his full weight to keep you pinned where he wanted. The hand that carried out its sinful ministrations below shot up to seize your cheeks. Rough fingerpads bruised the softer flesh as he craned your neck to make way for his lips, flushed with a feral red and coated with soft proclamations of domination.

"You're mine... All mine..."

Hot breaths ghosted the surface of your neck, tickling a heated whine out of you. Your needy noises hitched into a gasp when you felt moistened lips lock onto your skin, suckling and teething the flesh into discolored patches. Rich vermilion fringed with a sinful violet bloomed below your jawline, trailing down and darkening with each claim closer to your chest.

He yanked the noisome dress down, exposing all of your chest to him. The snaps of cloth ripping from its handles and the sudden whip of cold air across your most sensitive parts pierced a jolt through your body. He pulled away to admire the shades of purple and red marring your fair complexion, a visual reminder to the dust haunting old halls and courtyards lost to time that you were his, and his alone. A lone tongue swirled around an irritated bud.

Trembles quaked through you--from heated anticipation or disgust, you were unsure. He hooked his fingers back into your cheeks and pried your face to look into his own. Sky-blue eyes, which once beheld you in crinkled happiness, had dimmed into a hazy navy clouded with lust.

"So pretty... My gorgeous, gorgeous girl."

Soft lips brushed your forehead, ambled down to your nose, and finally settled on your lips.

"My good girl."

Lips warmed with depraved whispers silenced around your bud. Starved suckling backdropped the more apparent whimpers scratching your throat, dredged in pleasure with a dulling edge of resistance. Scarred skin delicately cusped your mounds, tweaking and flicking your perkiness until it was a rosy red.

Your growing sensitivity stung tears into your eyes. Achy hands, now free from his grasp, grappled onto sinewy shoulders but did little to convey genuine discomfort. A deep groan purred from his chest as Link balanced your sore bud in a soft knead between his teeth. A pop filled the room.

"Let me see those eyes."

Your eyes wedged open to see blown-out blues taking all of you in. Your heart pounded a flush into your cheeks and christened an unholy flame to spread through your core.

"That's it... Now watch me..."

He dragged his body lower and lower, his eyes unwavering from yours for even a second. Steady hands balled into the collar of your dress and tore through the silk, the symphony of rips bouncing off the walls and knocking coherence out of your head. His lips matched the pace of the ragged unveiling and chased progressively exposed flesh with soft kisses, down, down, and farther down. Feverish breaths along your inner thighs sent chills up your spine.

"Watch me as I make you cum for me."

Hands gnarled from knighthood knotted into the delicate lace separating him from his prize, tearing it apart with ease.

"Link, hold--ah!"

Your eyes shot to the back of your head as your mouth gaped into a silent 'O.' An orchestra of colors, conducted by a madly indulgent maestro, symphonized into a crazed, otherworldly experience. His tongue coiled and stretched into you with the practiced precision of many amorous nights while his thumb circled the space around your clit, teasing the nub until agony. It was only a matter of time before your impassioned gasps and pleas competed with the downright sinful wetness Link lapped below.

"Tell me you love this--that you love me."

"Link, please! Just give it to me please, please, please...!" The top of your head rolled further into your pillow when the painful prick of a pinch shot too much for too short a time.

"Don't look away. Don't you dare look away, you filthy slut." Deft fingers plunged into you until pleasure fried your brain. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Your whines and whimpers hiccuped into full sobs for release, whistled with pleas and promises you both knew you wouldn't keep.

"You'll love me forever, right? You'll be my good lil' cock slut forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise! Please Link, just let me cum already, please!"

You damn liar.

He pulled away, coldly gazing at the weeping, quivering, gasping mess of his beloved.

"Link...? W-why did you--"

"Your heart may have forgotten, but your body remembers..."

His sweet lips, tinted with a hint of bitter longing, moved with yours in a desperate, crazed dance. Every lust-filled, haggard groan ripped from his lungs masked the quieter crack running up his heart.

The bed creaked from the sudden redistribution of your weight as he spread you on all fours. He aligned himself to your entrance and, in a single motion that he had done hundreds of times, completed you. A wail, colored in pleasure and streaked with pain, contrasted Link's blissed-out groan. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes; each droplet slipped down your cheek in time with his frenetic pounding until it had thickened into a steady stream.

He wasted no time in his pursuit for pleasure, hitching his pelvis to your ass, pulling away, and slamming back in with the gentleness of a starved wolf ripping into a lamb. His fingers dug crescents into your hips as he adjusted himself, propping one of his legs up to angle himself deeper and faster into you.

He was stretching you past your limits, and every thrust was accompanied by a heated flash of pain. Your upper half sunk towards the bed as he moved your hips higher, closer to him. Helpless (E/C)s stared at the creaking bedpost while your whitening knuckles dug through the sheets clumped in your hands. A salty mixture of tears and saliva pooled on your pillow as honeyed cries haunted your walls.

"What, is my princess not having a good time?" He jeered, reaching over to give your engorged clit a cruel flick and your ass an even crueler slap. "What does my baby want me to do to her? Huh? What do you want me to do to your tight pussy?"

"L-Link, It hurts! It's too--!"

The side of your quivering hips slammed into the mattress and forced you on your back. Your face snapped into the pillow when his writhing tongue replaced his thick cock, tonguing and lapping at your dripping pussy as if your ambrosia would be the last thing he was to taste. He pulled out and spat on your entrance, pressing his tongue flat against your pussy and swiping up towards the clit that he coiled.

"Mmph... Fuck, I love you... Give me more... Gods, give me more."

A bruising ache pressed into your hips as his frenzied circling spurred faster, faster, faster. Pleasure dizzied your senses towards a dark void; the familiar knot in your stomach that ached to unravel popped with the abrupt re-emergence of Link.

"Mm, tight as ever... How're you feeling, my dove?" He husked, ragged breaths encapsulating the shell of your ear.

"Too b-bi--Link, you're too big!"

"Shhh... You can take it. You've taken it hundreds of times. C'mon, squeeze my cock like a good girl."

"It's so--Link, you're stretching me out, I need to--"

"Not yet. I'm not done fucking you yet." He swiveled you back on all fours and pounded you into the mattress, your cries and pleas be damned. Slender fingers snarled through your tresses and strained you away from the pillows that held your screams.

"When I'm ready, I want to watch you cum all over my cock." His erratic pounding slowed for a split second, enough time for a certain thought to come and go. "I want you to see it too."

Your abused cunt finally had a moment to breathe and process; if only your brain had that same luxury.

The bed sighed a relieved groan as Link crawled out and wrapped his arms about your lower abdomen to hoist you up. When it was evident that this pathetically limp curl was the best you could do, toned forearms hooked under your knees and spread your legs in the most vulnerable position you've ever been in. With a huff, Link brought you front and center to the mirror. You both watched breathlessly as he lowered you onto his slicked cock, sinking every inch into your gummy walls.

"Fuck, you're so tight... I need you, (F/N)..."

His crazed pistoning began once more; the sensations that ransacked your body were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. The tip of his cock so easily, so effortlessly rammed into your sweetest spots; every thrust he slammed into you turned you into a shamelessly shaking, overstimulated mess.

"Look at you," he hummed darkly, "look at all the sin running down your legs."

Link's voice was so far away now. The way he kept disappearing into your sopping cunt and your juices dribbling over your thighs consumed your every thought. The only tangible you could feel was the building pressure coiling in your gut, tightening with each passing second.

"So beautiful... So tight... Don't you want to do this forever? Hm? Don't you want to be ruined by me forever and ever?"

His teeth sunk into your neck, adding to the carnal collection and ripping a hoarse cry out of you.

"You're my good girl, aren't you? My good girl... You're all mine--all fucking mine."

Veins marbled his arms and forehead as he nuzzled into your neck, tongue tracing the edge of every bite. The labored grunts that occasionally wheezed out of him, along with his stuttering hips, signaled that he was teetering closer and closer to the edge. Hooded blues stared piercingly into your own, weighed down by mindless intoxication. His lips brushed a flame through the curve of your ear.

"Look at me..." He purred. "Look at me and confess your lust to me."

A shattered cry, followed by a wave of profane heat, collided with your system. Winced eyes lolled to the back of your head while you spasmed and twitched in still arms. Your violent clenching and knowledge of your release strained a guttural growl through Link's chest as he spurted his cum as deep as it could go. Thin, white threads coated your walls and trailed out your still-plugged hole until drips of sin stained the stone below.

Link tripped to the foot of the bed, his body folding into the sheets the second his foot made contact with the wooden post. With arms wrapped comfortably around you and the familiar presence of your spent lover, you passed out the moment your body recognized blissed finality.

As you commenced your near-immediate foray into the realm of dreams, a familiar voice--soft yet broken--rang through your last layer of consciousness.

"Sleep well, my dove. If eternally precarious possession is the closest thing we will ever have to love, I will gorge myself on it."

[ihavemanyhusbands]

He Who Hunts These Woods

Will Graham x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: You and Will decide to get a little experimental, and he chases you through the woods surrounding his cabin.

WC: 2.4k words

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY), Primal play, predator/prey, cnc-ish, cursing, some knifeplay, p in v, biting, fingering, unprotected sex (don't try at home), DARK stuff ig, lmk if anything else!

Special tag for @glitchedpup :> mwahaha

-----

A sudden noise made you stop in your tracks, clicking your flashlight off. You listened for a few heartbeats, head cocked to the side like an animal’s.

Your breath was deep but labored as you tried to stifle the panic running hot throughout your body. You knew you were being followed, but that certainly did nothing to soothe you.

The forest's darkness was almost impenetrable, like a living entity. Every cracking branch or rustling foliage made you jump, your heart rate skyrocketing each time. You weren’t sure how long you had been at this, time seemingly inexistent in this place. Especially when adrenaline had a firm grip on you, waxing and waning like liquid flame in your veins.

Though you considered yourself to be pretty open-minded, a part of you was beginning to regret agreeing to this. Mostly because you were getting tired and antsy, half wishing you’d opted to ride him on the couch back at his cabin, instead of running around.

But there was something about the fear, the anticipation, that wasn’t entirely torturous. Especially since you were well aware of who was hunting you.

Will had been kind enough to give you a head start at the beginning of all this. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, so he definitely could find you with ease. But where was the excitement in that?

This was precisely how he wanted you, vulnerable and hyperaware, completely at his mercy. All you had to do was surrender to your fate… Which you knew you would, but not just yet. This thrill – this cursed amalgamation of agony and ecstasy – made you feel more alive than ever before. And you were greedy, yes, for you wanted to feel this way as long as you could.

When the coast seemed to be clear, you clicked your flashlight back on, if only to gather your bearings. You had to be pretty sparse with it, given that you’d be much easier to spot if you left it on at all times. There’d been a couple of moments where you felt you were being watched, the heavy gaze like a smoldering caress on your skin.

You were lucky that Will was such a patient man, laser-focused in his pursuit of something he wanted. He was the perfect hunter, relentless, cunning, hungry. You thought of his teeth on your neck, his tongue right on your frantic pulse. Might he be merciful and swift? Or would he savor it, biding his time?

You shivered at the possibilities, goosebumps running down your arms. This was the kind of play that you two had been floating back and forth for some time. It was interesting – but sort of odd – in theory, but it was an awakening in practice. It let Will fully be himself, holding nothing back from you; The man Hannibal helped set free.

The two of you had discussed boundaries and safewords beforehand, but you trusted him fully. If it were with anybody else – except for Hannibal, of course – you would never have agreed to go through with it at all.

You moved hastily but carefully, keeping your arms out to keep yourself from running into things. Amidst the trees, he watched you stumble about, smirking to himself. He was hot on your heels, had been for a while now, but not yet he told himself.

A myriad of thoughts ran through Will’s mind – how he wanted to taste you, what sounds he wanted to elicit from you, the feel of the firm press of his body against yours. He felt like a madman when it came to you; A hunger that could never be sated.

He was more than fine with sharing you with Hannibal – you were both of theirs, after all – but he cherished these moments in which he had you all to himself. You saw him for who he was, too, and you embraced him. He never felt like he was being judged or that he had to hide from you.

He continued trailing you down to a small stream, the soft gurgling of the water filling your ears. You squatted near the edge, needing a break – and perhaps rending yourself totally vulnerable.

You splashed some water on your face, washing off the thin sheen of sweat that dotted your brow and the bridge of your nose. A figure of pure darkness emerged soundlessly from the trees behind you. An awareness spread throughout your body in the shape of goosebumps, and you suppressed a shiver.

“What do we have here?” Will’s voice was like smoke and velvet, a blessing and a curse all at once.

You stiffened, trying not to jump out of your own skin. Your heart was jackhammering against your ribcage painfully, and you knew you had only a few precious seconds to react. It was up to you how the rest of this night would unfold, after all.

You heard the crunch of leaves as he took a step closer, and that made you spring into action. You ran, legs pumping as hard as they could, muscles burning. Dodging obstacles was much harder, especially when you could barely even focus on where you stepped. You heard him chasing after you, getting closer and closer and closer. You whimpered, near delirious with the adrenaline.

Then, your foot caught on an overgrown branch and you stumbled, the world blurring at the edges. You threw your arms out, bracing against a tree to break your fall. You were panting heavily, your head spinning, and Will stopped mere inches away from you. Of course, you’d never be able to escape him, he was much faster than you. He clicked his tongue, barely breathing hard from the run. 

“It must not be your lucky day,” he said. “But it certainly is mine.”

“Please.” You breathed, falling easily into the role of prey.

You felt his warmth at your back as he stepped even closer, and you resisted the urge to push your ass back against him, wanting to see what he would do first.

“What is it, darling?” he purred, tucking an errant strand of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

You wanted to shake your head, to try to be defiant, but there was something about his demeanor that gave you pause. Instead, all you could say was, “Have mercy.”

He chuckled darkly, and you felt his breath against your neck. “And if I don’t? What will you do, hmm?”

That was when you did fight back, jerking against him. He was momentarily taken aback, and you’d barely managed to escape his grasp before he roughly pulled you back to him. The two of you wrestled for dominance as his arms snaked around you tightly.

“Oh yeah? You want to play rough?” He snarled, one of his hands going to your neck, pinning you further. “I’ll show you rough.”

You thrashed and attempted to kick, but your strength was quickly waning. It was no use; He was much stronger than you as well. Did you even have another choice but to give in?

It was already hard not to, seeing how your body reacted to him. You felt so close to igniting– him being the flame to your kerosene. He knew this too, and he planned to use it in his favor.

Will began tearing at your t-shirt, ripping it apart with frantic hands. When he brought out his hunting knife, you stopped moving, watching instead as he sawed at your bra. Both garments fell to the ground unceremoniously, and the crisp night air nipped at your exposed flesh, making you shiver.

“You knew what would happen when I caught you, didn’t you?” He taunted, holding his knife over your neck – lightly of course, but just enough to make things interesting – and groping your breasts roughly. When he pinched one of your aching nipples, you couldn’t help the loud mewl that escaped your lips. “Or did you think you could outsmart me? Surely, you’re not that naïve.”

“I lasted… a while… did I not?” You said slowly, faking bravado despite the fact you were afraid the blade might nick your throat.

He chuckled once more, amused at your stubbornness. “Oh, we’ll see just how long you’ll last now.”

He withdrew the knife and wrestled you to the ground, even as you tried hard to keep your footing. His knee connected with the back of yours, and you fell forward on all fours, the breath momentarily knocked out of you. But you still had some fight in you, so you tried to scramble forward, but he was on you in a flash, pinning your legs between his.

“Please…” You rasped, nails scratching at the dirt. “Let me go.”

“Never,” He growled, leaning forward and biting your shoulder hard enough to make you cry out. “You’re fucking mine, do you understand!? You belong to me.”

There was a desperate heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and you squirmed pathetically against his firm grip. He licked at your shoulder, chasing away the sting, before moving to rake his teeth once more against the side of your throat. Your eyes screwed shut, and you held your breath to keep yourself from moaning.

“Say it,” he breathed in your ear, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, sure to leave bruises. “Say you’re mine.”

“Y-yours…” You whispered, barely able to find your voice.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you,” He urged, pulling you back and grinding his clothed erection against you. “Louder.”

You hesitated, debating whether to continue being a little bratty. But before you could decide, Will yanked your pants and underwear down in one rough, quick motion– fully baring you to the night. The next moment, his hand came down on your ass once, twice, three times, the strikes swift but savage. You shrieked with each one, but despite the pain, you found yourself clenching around nothing.

“I’m yours!” You cried out. “All yours.”

“There’s a good girl. Scream all you want, sweetness, no one’s around to hear it.” He cooed, cruelly saccharine. “And now, I’m going to claim what’s mine.”

He pushed your head to the ground, keeping it there with one hand. Your cheek was pressed against a bed of damp leaves, back not so gracefully arched and ass still in the air. You heard the clink of his belt being undone, and the rustle of clothes as he pushed down his own pants.

Then his fingers went to your pussy, spreading it for his own appraisal. You could hear the lewd sounds of your arousal as he continued exploring, circling your clit torturously slow – Just the way you liked to be teased. Involuntarily, you pushed your hips back, seeking more friction. He tsked in disapproval, withdrawing his fingers a little.

“Eager thing. Does the idea of me claiming you excite you?” He said.

Your body tensed as two of his fingers sank into the molten heat of your cunt, and he hummed in utter delight. “My, my…And you’re absolutely soaked. I thought you wanted me to let you go?”

Your face and neck flushed deeply with shame. Of course, you wanted him – my God, you were absolutely ravenous for him – but he seemed to be using this desire against you. To show you just how easily he could get you to yield.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, but just when he was getting to a steady rhythm, he pulled them out. You grit your teeth in frustration, but did not make a sound beyond your hissing breath.

“You know what I think? I think you never wanted mercy at all. You wanted to be ravaged,” he said, shifting his body to line the head of his cock with your entrance, barely pushing in. “And I’m more than happy to oblige.”

Without warning, Will fully slammed into you, your body rocking forward.

“Oh fuck!” You wailed, attempting to brace yourself, an electric jolt racing through your veins.

“Keep your head down.” He growled, his hands gripping your hips once more.

His strokes were hard and fast– perhaps punishing you for running away. His hips slapped against yours loudly, your unrestrained moans fueling him on. He felt impossibly deep at that angle, like he was literally rearranging your insides, leaving his imprint on you.

“Oh, you take me so well, don’t you?” He praised, and you felt pride swell in your chest. “Say it again: Who do you belong to?”

“I-I’m yours!” You managed between whimpers. “All yours!”

He momentarily stopped only to pull you up, your back pressed against his chest. One of his hands trailed up your front, pawing at one of your breasts, while the other snaked down to your clit. His relentless rhythm resumed soon enough, deft fingers stroking your clit up and down, up and down. Your back arched, eyes rolling to the back of your head, but he held you close.

He nibbled on your earlobe, and you were putty in his hands. Your cunt was clenching him hard, and he knew you were right there. “That’s it, good girl. Come all over my cock.”

And as he shifted his hips slightly, you tumbled into oblivion, nothing existing outside of the rolling waves of pleasure washing over you. Your mind went fully blank for a moment, your body’s singing overpowering it. His name left your lips like a prayer for salvation, over and over again – Will, Will, Will….

Not a moment later, you heard his growl in your ear, felt the heat that suddenly flooded your cunt. Once more, he branded you, his essence entwining with yours. Once more he made sure that you understood that nobody – except maybe Hannibal – could give you such pleasure, such sweet agony. Not that you needed convincing, but you weren’t about to refuse it either.

The two of you were breathing hard as you came down from your mind-numbing orgasms. Immediately, Will regained himself, and he set out to comfort you. He kissed your shoulders, your neck, your temple, making sure you understood how much you meant to him.

“Was I too rough?” He asked, stroking your arms soothingly as he unsheathed himself from you, leaving you achingly empty.

He took his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders, and pulled you back into a comfortable embrace. Nothing had ever felt more like home – the scent of his sweat-slick skin, musky and earthy, the fit of his frame around yours. It was almost narcotic, the way he made you feel.

There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him.

“No, my love,” You sighed dreamily, nuzzling him, and kissing his jaw. “You were absolutely perfect.”

And no words had ever rang more true.

---------

[anantaru]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

with all the trauma scaramouche had suffered from in the past, you made it your duty to show him that it was okay to love and crave intimacy.

୨୧ WORD COUNT: 4.1k

୨୧ WARNINGS: nsfw, fem! reader, oral sex (male! receiving), unprotected sex, scaramouche & reader are in a relationship, first time being intimate, slight biting/marking, nipple play, cute scaramouche, loads of love, scara deserves it all.

for one, you were no stranger to handing out affection, love, to the person you had certainly fallen for.

he, on the other hand, had not been on best of terms with himself. Indeed, in midst the impenetrable darkness he had suffered from in the past, a faint glimmer of light had broken through him, said light being you and your person alone.

scaramouche had not fallen for you immediately, it wasn't as if he didn't feel any form of connection with you, or a somewhat higher power, he so referred to it, that has brought the two of you together with it not mattering where either of you were. Surely, the storm in him still roamed, with the fear of yet another loss feeding into his darkened thoughts of sorrow and hatred, that weren't only directed to the world, but to himself.

was him existing, enough? did he really deserve to be here and live a normal life after all, with someone he cared for? swallowing back the knot that threatened to tie in his throat, he reevaluated the thoughts he found he was surrounded with. No matter the outcome, in the end no one was able to possibly find a reasonable answer to the impractical question he would throw himself in.

nevertheless, scaramouche understood the idea of being affectionate towards your partner, more so intimate. In fact, he wasn't an idiot, if mere humans were able to wrap their mind around such concept, why shouldn't he?

he found himself rather plastered around particular imagines in his dreams, with your body bare, naked embraced tightly in his arms. It was vividly played over and over, with the building desire voicing itself without leaving. Your touch or the natural responses you'd give to him felt as if he somehow invaded your space with his disgusting thoughts.

yet still, he was unable to understand a single syllable of it. not in a way someone might think, the idea of kissing and worshipping someone's body was not a brand new thought of his. It's more that, in his eyes, if he really was about to give himself to a fragile human yet again, what would happen if something was to rip you off him one day?

with your hand in his, he searched his mind again, for something positive, optimistic, it didn't matter what it was as long as he recalled the safety that rose in him upon sensing your skin on his own.

"you're in your head again."

intentionally, you posed your question gently for him to listen to, he leaned his head to meet your eyes, not being capable to offer any form of rebuttal this time. A smile, with no resistance, dancing on your lips as you scooted over to him once more, with his hand tightening around yours.

"i wasn't in my head, I just thought about something rather hard." there it was, you giggled, the little snarky response you were waiting for. His facial expression intrigued you on this night, it contorted something it rarely did, for some reason he too, was far less argumentative, more attentive and relaxed in his antics.

"does this bother you?" you pointed towards your hand while patting your thumb over his knuckles. All movements were slowed, working against time, with your voice silent. How dearly he wanted to tell you that he in fact, adored every single moment of your touch on his own and that he would never be bothered by anything of it.

"huh, does it look like it does?" the irritation in him was growing, with scaramouche not having a single clue on how to tell you all of that without sounding like a downright insane individual. There was a rustle of fabric when he slightly wiggled himself in a much more comfortable position, with your head now resting on his chest.

judging by the way his chest was heaving as a result of his frantic breathing, you figured something was up, at this point, you knew your boyfriend better than anyone else. However, for a moment, all you craved for was to lay still and drink in the natural responses he unintentionally provided you with.

scaramouche continued to hold your hand, while his other one proceeded to wrap around your waist, trembling in his play before he stilled his fingers on you, struggling but still managing to hold himself close with his thoughts weighing him down.

following suit, you propped your chin onto his chest, silently admiring his dominant features through your lashes, the details on your lips raising in a smirk.

"something is up, i can feel it."

you really wanted to know it now, being very much aware on how much he despised whenever you were noisy with him. It was so deliciously simple to get him over the edge, too simple almost when you already noticed the slight *click* he made with his tongue.

"you've gone all quiet." the barely noticeable change in your voice rose slight goosebumps on his skin. You pulled your hand away from his hold to keep your palm on his chest.

"you're just imagining things." his lips twisted, your throat bubbling with a contagious laughter from his response. Taking a tiny, careful, approach to him once more, you slowly slid your body up so your face would now directly hover over his, thoughts swirling.

that damned spark in your eyes again, scaramouche remembered the first time he witnessed that gesture and when you looked at him in that special way, so pure, yet so passionate, in a way it was intimate too, leaving him no peace.

"maybe you're right, satisfied now?" there was a piercing bitterness in his cutting words, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek sensually. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, heart leaping at the contact with his touch.

who was he fooling right now? you were his partner, his love, he wondered if he should just go for what he had longed for after all.

which, he then did, might we add, in his own way.

"can you kiss me?"

it was foolish, really, if anything, scaramouche wanted to curse himself for saying something so embarrassing to you, settling his hand on your cheek while attempting to take it away. Maybe he could make you believe that he was in fact, sleep talking right now, or sick. Was he even able to get sick in the first place?

doubt stayed in his mind, when you in a sudden manner, drew your hand to his own which was cupping your cheek, carefully intertwining your fingers with each other, you shifted like water with scaramouche welcoming the pull of your weight on his body.

"always."

your fingers brushed on the column of his throat, the skin was warm and smooth on your finger tips. Scaramouche would never deny the steps you were taking right now, he enjoyed it, craved it, as a smile flickered upon placing your lips on his own.

there was a strong fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach, finding a rhythm, practically demanding you to continue.

how much he had waited for you to kiss him like that, struggling to remain still while stifling his sounds. Warmth, your warmth in particular, for him it felt almost nauseating to have it radiate through his body in such thickened spurts.

briefly, you pulled away, resting your forehead on his own, delighted. The presumedly cold wind sighed outside, shrilling, not to mention low, adding to the fevered beat on your heart.

scaramouche set his fingers on your chin, with a little effort, pulling you back in. He wanted, no, needed this, adding his tongue. Not so much different from the dreams he would be grazed with every now and then, you slid his hand over his chest, playfully tapping your tips around his ribcage.

feeling the chill on your fingers over his shirt, he furrowed his brows lightly, laying his hand on the nape of your neck, tumbling into becoming hopeless addicted to your taste.

lets call it an arch of desire, that made you run your hand further, lowering yourself on his stomach before resting. Right now, the continues lust that seemed to have been stored for many weeks in him, drowned out all the outside noise until all he was able to hear was your erratic breathing.

catching you by surprise, he enveloped his hand around your wrist, dragging you down on where he so very much wished you to be. There was a pleasing demanding antic in his tactic, deepening your kiss as you smirked against his lips on how blunt and unashamedly he could be at times.

testing on what he might like, you squeezed him through his pants with his hands splayed on your neck, tracing his fingers over your skin nervously. Each hiss that you'd notice develop in his throat, felt as if someone lit you on fire, all too alluring.

you peeled yourself away from his lips with them glowing of saliva, slightly parted. His body was clearly tensed with him letting go of a painfully slow hiss. "is that alright?" with his eyes half open, you could still watch his dilated pupils, smoothening your hand on his semi erect member.

"can you do it faster?"

there was a twitch in his sentence, one he did not notice on his own as he lolled himself back into pillows with your hand proceeding to work on him. Scaramouche had long since teetered around the pleasure you inflicted on him, drunk on your presence alone.

silently, but ever so mindful, you squeezed his clothed groin before peppering his chest with tender kisses, lowering yourself and never stilling your hand on him. Scaramouche dropped his head, lust blinded, clenching his hand and disheveling the bedsheets under him as you proceeded to be content with your play.

the sweet and intoxicating whines he'd let you hear were drawing you into madness with how consuming they were.

your body moved on autopilot as you placed a soft kiss on his twitching groin. The air around him began to be difficult to take in, thick as syrup, slow and jarring, tinged with something fiddling with his senses.

you gave him a little laugh as he tilted his head to you, returning your smile hesitantly when you worked your way on his belt, discarding it together with his pants and boxers, pushing them down.

the breeze was stirring on his pulsating member, with it resting stiff on his pelvis. The soft rasp of his throat upon taking it in your hand was exhilarating, an extra thrill creeping at him as you kissed the tip, lapping his pre cum with a single flick of your tongue.

"fuck, more." the sheer act of submission that took place in between his legs tampered in his thoughts, marveling before him at the intense sight with your continues kisses on his rosy tip.

scaramouche felt powerful, wanted, desired, by the person he so very much cherished and loved.

you effortlessly parted your lips, wrapping yourself around him before going down easily. The nervousness and flips that went over in his stomach were replaced by pleasing caresses and skillful flicks of your tongue on his shaft.

for him, he felt weightless, watching himself disappear in your warm mouth with your eyes tightly shut in concentration. The hint of a smile remained on you with your strokes fastening. You hollowed your cheeks, stilling yourself for a tiny bit before pulling yourself up slowly.

a layer of sweat dampened the tiny hair on his nape with him grunting at every thrust now. The squelching noises flustered his state of mind, as if he was embarrassed of it, unsure on how to response to it either.

your wet muscle was notably sinful, flattened on the underside of his length with the raw texture of your tongue adding into the roughness of your sucking.

scaramouche bathed in ecstasy, truly, exhaling his breath in long, uneven bursts as you bobbed your head again, giving him a couple of final additional pushes as he releases himself in you.

"oh, fuck." his moans were bittersweet, careful and deep with his eyes tightly closed, carving his hips up into your mouth. You ran your hand over his shivering thigh in an attempt to aid him to his release, tonguing his semi erect cock and nibbling softly.

his angelic moans roamed through the room, filling it with sounds of sex and pleasure as you released him. His seed was melting together with your saliva, lewdly. You dragged the back of your hand over your mouth before swallowing his cun with his eyes fixated on the sight.

a slight pause was warranted as you caught your breath, crawling over to your lover, "are you alright?" scaramouche worried for a moment that it was too much or if he had pained you.

"i didn't hurt you? did i?"

the tiny, yet dominant fear in his eyes was evident, with you cradling his cheeks into a soft embrace. "you were perfect." seeking his lips out to pepper him in a loving smooth.

smiling indulgently into the kiss, scaramouche hummed in satisfaction and happiness, his hands falling down and resting on your chest, tugging on your dress.

naturally, you understood what he wanted you to do, short after discarding of your garment and leaving you in underwear for him to relish in. Your body was revealed to him, without hesitation he dragged you back to his hold, dominating you with his lips.

scaramouche was beginning to see the advantages of being dominant in bed, the lazy smile giving him enough reassurance to shove you into the mattress with him towering over you now. Following suit, you urged him to dispose of his shirt as well, helping him get out of it.

you returned to him, nibbling on his lips as he roamed your body with his hands, fondling with the bra before discarding it, with your panties following right after. The slight difficulties he faced with unclasping your bra left a feeling, more so, a tiny amount of panic at the idea that he might not be capable to please you sexually, with you actually enjoying it just how he did earlier.

you spotted the embarrassment in him, heavy lidded eyes never leaving his when you soothed his muscles, making his heart race with nothing more than candid handling of his body.

"have your way with me." with this proclamation, you traced your fingers over your exposed nipples to center his attention towards your chest. Of course, you did it easily, precisely, with scaramouche's eyes flickering with lust at your words.

"don't tell me what to do."

you were so unbelievably sexy, he noticed how he started to get hard, painfully so, planting himself in between your legs while pressing himself into your heat. Your hips pushed up, straining against the bulge of his erection, pursing your mouth.

he peered lower, longing to touch your breasts and feel them on his palm as he did just that, taking one in his hand. Experimentally, he pushed his thumb over your erected nipple, curious on the reaction he might coax out of you.

tilting your head, your pulse grew stronger. You hummed deeply, complimenting his touch on you as he brought himself to your chest, dragging his rough tongue on your bud, shuddering when he gently held his lips together, pulling away. Each moan, whine or whimper he'd be able to notice from you, only fed into the strong desire to pleasure you, love you how you deserved it.

with all of his might, scaramouche tried to ignore the growing hardness in his lower region, carefully gnawing on your nipple while fondling your other breast in his hand. Dragging his head over the mounds of flesh, he swept his glistering lips over the delicate skin, a moan rising from your throat upon noticing the suck on you.

blissfully unaware, he continued to latch numerous times onto your softness, nibbling and gently digging his teeth into you. Before you knew it, he already had begun to admire the marks he had left on your chest up to your collarbone, the drift of his cooling breath soothing the pulsating areas you were decorated with.

the aftershocks that rippled through you added to the heavy spiral in between your thighs, thrills of sexual want vibrating through you. It didn't help, his relaxed state of mind let his normal defenses fall short with his cock fully erected again, resting on top of your glistering folds.

the weight of the situation began to fall down on him with a slight feeling of overwhelm and the fear of failing taking a significant change in him. Grasping on what was happening, you soothed him back into reality, taking a hold of his head to drag him to you, his body leaning on top of yours.

"we can stop if you want."

it was important for you to give scaramouche enough time to get used to this feeling. Not only the taste of intimacy itself, but the idea and patterns of gentle touching and fondling, in a loving, more so passionate way he had never experienced.

"i want this."

everything was falling into place how he had fantasized about in his dreams, for months tolerating the unbearable growing ache on his groin without the ability to voice it to you. Even little, small obstacles wouldn't get in his way this time. Nodding your head at his words, you enveloped your arm around his neck while the other one sneaked in between your bodies.

letting out a sigh of relief, you lined yourself up with the help of scaramouche. For him, there was as much frustration as pleasure right now, he couldn't wait any longer to finally feel you like this, to finally become one with his partner.

bracing himself he leaned closer to you, with his hips following suit and pushing past the agonizing tightness of your hole, muffling the throat caught moans on your neck.

It eased him out, fairytales were downright despised by him yet why did this moment feel like one? it was unusual enough to get him so silent, so cautious with his body trembling on you. The fading jolt of pain arrowed on your hole with him handling you with great caress, offering you plenty of time to get used to his girth.

"that feels." each word melted down on his tongue eagerly, sending you staggering with him whimpering at the natural hardness. "that feels really good."

with the pace increasing, you kept a firm hold on him, rubbing circles on his back while he squeezed your breasts, his fingers sinking into your flesh. The slight stuttering on his hips was noticeable, right now scaramouche was testing on what would feel the most comfortable, but also most pleasurable for the both of you.

without breaking the rhythm, he pulled himself off your neck, locking your gaze with your body stiffening at his maddening expression. With your jaw gaped open, you moaned out his name, the very name he despised in the past, but with you voicing it like that, with that particular charm in your voice, it tasted like sweet honey on a summer night.

he gazed at your neck with your head thrown back at the pleasure his hips inflicted on you, your veins throbbing with blood with the notable rush in adrenaline shooting into you. Your walls were tightly wrapped around his length, intoxicating, with your hips grinding together.

all thoughts of possible negative outcomes were drowned by the way he was fucking you. Just thinking about doing this over and over again with you from now on, scaramouche had deducted that he had indeed become addicted to the feeling of you enveloped around him like that.

his hot breathing rolled over your glistering body that was covered in sweat and perspiration, his gaze focused on your person with the original first thought in him being on how messy you looked, how filthy and it was his fault alone. Surely, it wasn't necessary to explain the sudden burst in his ego, that developed by the tinkering in his mind, not when you continued to moan together with those alluring sounds of yours.

the bubbling sensation on his groin was beginning to reach its high, with scaramouche snapping himself faster into your warmth, so fast your breasts were beginning to bounce in tandem with it, making his cock press further in you. "fuck." the delicious pleasure he experienced had him lean into your face, kissing you while rolling his hips into you with the sounds of sex being more notable.

observing you with carefulness, cautious, he displayed a crooked smile, "are you close?" sobbing softly at his words, with your climax approaching, you nodded frantically. "i am so close." pleasant emotions in you rose, running your fingertips over his chest before stilling your hand on his cheek, dragging him down.

scaramouche moaned into the kiss, he wasn't sure if he was even supposed to fully be vocal with you or be as loud as he was right now. His lips, glazed and puffy, dwelling with a satiated sigh when his pace became uneven, dragging his stiff cock on your velvety walls.

the suffocating air in the room was unfolding with his patience evaporating, a sight around of small tears dwelling in your eyes at the fastened pace. In a daze, he finally spilled himself in you, a broken moan rippling in his throat with his vision becoming blurry. Your hands urged him to come down once more with your lips pressed together on his own, whining into his mouth when you twitched at the very second you felt him fill you with his warm seed.

unable to find your voice, you cried out, shuddering with your climax washing over you, yours hand around him beginning to tremble. The heaviness of your body was certain, with your thigh muscles aching as you lowered yourself back into the disheveled damp sheets.

scaramouche stabilized himself up with one hand while he roamed your body with the other, the expectations of the act alone had been overthrown by what he had felt right now. In a way, it was impossible for him to explain it, more so did he curse himself that he didn't take the initiative sooner.

you mumbled something underneath your breath and with him concentrating on your lips, he figured out what it was, his face igniting in flames. Your mouth quirked up into a smirk upon seeing his flustered state, your posture slightly straightening with him still being buried in you.

"don't you want to say it back?"

before you got an opportunity to ask again, scaramouche rolled his eyes at you, visible annoyed. "i don't think I have to tell you that i love you." he narrowed his brows, swallowing the knot in his throat when he pulled himself out of your messy hole, his cum pooling out.

"and why is that?"

undoubtedly, you thoroughly enjoyed messing with your boyfriend, not to mention when he was embarrassed for whatever reason. "because you already know i do, are you stupid?" you snickered at his words, deciding to curve the conversation into another direction.

your gaze lowered, with the both of you being in dire need of a shower, watching the mess unfold further on the silky sheets. You savored into the intimate atmosphere when he plopped himself right next to you, indirectly opening his arms so you could slip yourself in his hold.

naturally, without pressing the matter further, you do as he craved, catching his eyes to indulge in his afterglow expression. His chest was heaving unevenly, he was still out of breath and you found that immensely adorable, more so how he desperately tried to hide it from you.

"don't look at me like that." of course, you thought to yourself, he snapped at you with his head averting your gaze. You hummed to yourself, fluttering your eyes shut with his attention pointed to the small circles you drew on his chest.

the bittersweet smile on his lips, you did not spot, and he did not want to show you.

plastered on his mouth with scaramouche finally being able to let go and experience the feeling of just living, just existing without a bigger cause he had to participate in, but to simply be there with you, with you enveloped in his arms as you drifted into a comfortable slumber, together.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part fifteen

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, mentions of violence and injury, blood, sad rafe, mentions of guns, swearing

The world swirled in a hazy blur as you fought to regain your senses. The pain in your side radiated with each labored breath, and the darkness that enveloped you seemed impenetrable. For a moment, the events of the night blurred together—the urgency of leaving, the revelation about Rafe, and now, the mysterious and agonizing encounter in the chateau's yard.

As your vision gradually cleared, the moonlit night unveiled the chateau's surroundings. The distant sounds of Midsummers festivities lingered in the air, a stark contrast to the chilling breeze that swept through the quiet yard. A surge of pain jolted through your side as you attempted to rise, prompting a cry of anguish to escape your lips.

The scream echoed through the night, a haunting sound that caught the attention of anyone nearby. In the moments that followed, Rafe, who had been frantically searching for you, heard your cry and rushed towards the source of the pain. Panic etched his features as he reached you, a torrent of apologies tumbling from his lips.

"Y/n! Holy shit, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I didn't know it was you!" Rafe's words spilled out in a desperate rush as he knelt beside you, his eyes wide with shock and regret.

Crying out in pain, you clutched your side, the reality of the situation sinking in. Rafe, overcome with concern, tore off a portion of his tuxedo and attempted to fashion a makeshift bandage. His hands worked quickly, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and guilt, as he tried to stem the bleeding and alleviate your pain.

As the Pogues rushed outside and witnessed the chaotic scene, shock and concern etched their faces. The realization of your injuries, coupled with the presence of a gun next to Rafe, painted a grim picture. JJ's expression darkened with anger, his fists clenched as he put two and two together.

"You did this?!" JJ's voice thundered, the anger simmering beneath the surface as he stormed towards Rafe. The atmosphere crackled with tension as the Pogues grappled with the sudden turn of events.

Kiara and Sarah attempted to intervene, their voices raised in urgency. "JJ, calm down! Let's figure out what happened first!" Kiara pleaded, her eyes darting between JJ and Rafe.

But JJ's anger was palpable, and he continued his approach, fury burning in his eyes. "You hurt her, you bastard! What were you thinking?" he yelled, shoving Rafe back with a forceful push.

The clash between JJ and Rafe intensified, the air thick with unresolved tension. Kiara and Sarah desperately called for restraint, but JJ's anger seemed to overshadow reason in that moment.

As JJ shoved Rafe away, he turned back to you, his anger momentarily set aside as he knelt down to help. "Hey, hey, we need to get you inside. Can you stand?" he asked, concern replacing the rage in his voice. The urgency to tend to your injuries took precedence over the conflict, the makeshift family now facing a new challenge—navigating the aftermath of a night filled with unexpected twists and turns.

As Rafe looked down at you, tears welled in his eyes, his heart heavy with the weight of the pain he had inadvertently caused. The sight of you in distress, and the realization of his role in it, shook him to the core. John B rushed over to understand the situation, only to find JJ in a frenzy, attempting to aid you.

Frustration and anger seethed in John B's expression as he turned towards Rafe. "What the hell happened?!" he demanded, his voice laced with anger and concern.

Rafe paced the ground, running a hand through his hair in a display of remorse. "I didn't know it was her. I didn't mean to hurt her," he stammered, tears streaming down his face as he attempted to explain, the weight of guilt bearing down on him.

The continuous stream of apologies from Rafe became overwhelming, his words blending together in a desperate attempt to convey his remorse. However, the chaos escalated when Sarah stepped forward, her expression firm. "Enough, Rafe. You need to leave," she stated, cutting through the torrent of apologies.

Rafe fell silent, uncertainty and desperation evident in his eyes. He hesitated, torn between wanting to make amends and respecting the decision to remove himself from the situation. The turmoil within him was palpable as he looked at you, still in pain, and the friends who were rightfully furious with him.

In the midst of the emotional whirlwind, Rafe found himself at a loss for words, caught between the desire to fix what he had broken and the understanding that, in this moment, leaving might be the only way to begin the process of healing.

Silent apologies hung in the air as Rafe, with teary eyes, cast a pleading look towards you. The weight of regret and helplessness etched on his face was a silent acknowledgment of the pain he had caused. He retreated to his car, leaving the chateau grounds with a heavy heart.

Meanwhile, your cries of pain echoed in the night as JJ, with gentleness in his eyes, lifted you into his arms. The Pogues, their faces etched with concern, huddled around you as JJ laid you on the couch in the chateau's living room. Kiara scurried to search for first aid supplies in the cabinets, a sense of urgency in her movements.

As you lay on the couch, the pain etched on your face, the Pogues gathered around you, each expressing their concern. JJ, in particular, took charge, trying to assess the severity of your injuries. Kiara returned with first aid supplies, and together, they worked to tend to your wounds.

The atmosphere in the chateau was heavy with tension and worry. The discussion of taking you to the hospital lingered in the air, a shared concern among your makeshift family. JJ looked at you with a mix of guilt and determination, his priority now focused on providing whatever care he could to alleviate your suffering.

As the Pogues gathered around you, the severity of your injuries evident, John B took charge. He looked at JJ with a determined expression, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.

"JJ, we need to get her to the hospital. Help me get her into the van. We don't have time to waste," John B directed, the gravity of the situation pushing them into swift action.

JJ nodded, his face tense with a mixture of guilt and determination. Together, they carefully lifted you into the van, the makeshift family now rallying together to address the immediate crisis. The urgency in John B's voice reflected the understanding that time was of the essence, and the hospital was the best place for you to receive the care you needed.

As the van's engine roared to life, the Pogues, their faces etched with worry, shared a collective determination to navigate the challenges that lay ahead. The night, which had begun with the promise of celebration, had unraveled into a series of unforeseen events, each demanding resilience and unity from your makeshift family.

In the back of the van, as it sped towards the hospital, you lay with your head resting on JJ's lap. His fingers gently combed through your hair as he spoke reassuring words, his voice a comforting anchor in the midst of the chaos.

"You're going to be okay, alright? We're getting you help as quickly as possible," JJ murmured, the sincerity in his voice meant to provide you with a sense of comfort. The urgency of the situation hung heavy in the air, but JJ's attempts to soothe you were a testament to the unspoken bond that tied your friends together.

As the van cut through the night, the headlights illuminating the road ahead, the collective focus remained on getting you to the hospital. The van carried not only the weight of your pain but also the hope for a resolution—a beacon in the darkness, symbolizing the shared determination to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.

JJ's attempts at reassurance seemed to briefly register as you nodded, your face reflecting a momentary acceptance of his comforting words. However, the respite was short-lived as a sudden wave of pain washed over you. Your body curled up instinctively, seeking solace in the proximity of JJ, tears streaming down your face.

The dual sources of anguish—the physical pain you endured and the emotional weight of Rafe's inadvertent actions—intertwined, creating a complex tapestry of suffering. In that vulnerable moment, your tears became a silent testament to the multifaceted challenges that the night had unleashed.

JJ, recognizing the depth of your distress, tightened his grip gently, offering silent support as the van continued its hurried journey towards the hospital. The road ahead, both literal and metaphorical, remained uncertain, the night unfolding in unexpected ways, leaving behind a trail of pain, regret, and the collective resolve of your makeshift family to confront the challenges that lay ahead.

As your pain persisted in the back of the van, JJ, growing increasingly anxious, urged John B to hurry. "Come on, John B, we can't waste any time. She's in pain," JJ insisted, his concern palpable.

John B, focused on navigating the van through the night, responded with a reassuring tone, "We're just five minutes away, JJ. Hang in there. We'll get her the help she needs as soon as we can."

The urgency in JJ's plea mirrored the collective anxiety of the group, each passing second amplifying the weight of the situation. The van pressed forward, hurtling through the darkness towards the hospital, a beacon of hope on the horizon as your friends rallied to address the challenges that unfolded with every passing moment.

The van came to a sudden stop, and Pope, recognizing the urgency of the situation, swiftly moved to open the side door. The cool night air rushed in as JJ carefully lifted you out of the van, cradling you in his arms.

Pope, with a sense of urgency, led the way, guiding JJ towards the entrance of the Emergency Room. The hospital doors swung open, revealing the bustling environment within. JJ, his expression tense with worry, followed Pope's lead, ensuring you received the care you desperately needed.

As JJ carried you into the Emergency Room, panic etched on his face, he approached the medical staff urgently. "Help! We need help here! She's been shot, and she's in a lot of pain!" JJ pleaded with the medical staff, his voice a desperate cry for immediate assistance.

The ER staff, well-trained to handle emergencies, swiftly responded. They rushed to your side, taking in the severity of the situation. With a sense of urgency, they guided JJ to a bed, the wheels squeaking as they maneuvered it towards the treatment area. The medical team surrounded you, their swift movements and focused expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation.

As you were taken into surgery, JJ, anxiety etched on his face, watched helplessly. His plea for immediate assistance echoed in the ER, the urgency of the moment underscoring the unpredictable nature of the night and the challenges that now unfolded within the sterile walls of the hospital.

The Pogues hurried into the Emergency Room, finding JJ in a state of distress near the entrance. Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and John B gathered around him, concern etched on their faces as they assessed the gravity of the situation.

"JJ, she's in good hands. The hospital staff knows what they're doing," Pope reassured, placing a comforting hand on JJ's shoulder.

Kiara nodded in agreement, offering words of comfort. "They'll take care of her. She's strong, JJ. She'll get through this."

Despite their attempts to console him, JJ's worry remained evident. He couldn't shake the image of the blood and the pain you had endured. The weight of the night hung heavy on their makeshift family, the hospital walls echoing with a mix of anxiety and hope as they awaited news on your condition.

As the agonizing hours passed, the Pogues waited anxiously in the hospital, their worry palpable in the sterile environment. Finally, a doctor emerged from the ER, approaching the group with a measured expression.

"The surgery went well. She's in stable condition now," the doctor informed them, a collective sigh of relief escaping the Pogues. The news brought a momentary reprieve from the tension that had gripped them since the night unfolded.

With a sense of gratitude, the doctor continued, "One of you can go back and see her now. She's in Room 213."

JJ, his worry still etched on his face, immediately volunteered. "I'll go," he stated, determination in his voice. The group exchanged encouraging glances, silently acknowledging the unspoken bond that had brought them together in moments of crisis.

JJ made his way to Room 213, the anticipation building as he approached the door. The sight of you, battered but stable, offered a glimmer of hope in the aftermath of a night filled with unexpected twists and turns. He entered the room with a mix of relief and concern etched on his face. As he approached your bedside, you greeted him with a weak but genuine smile. The sight of you, still in recovery, brought a sense of solace to JJ.

He took your hand gently as you reached out for him, the touch a silent reassurance. The room was hushed, the only sound the soft hum of medical equipment and the quiet exchange between you and JJ.

You spoke through the oxygen mask, your voice muffled but filled with gratitude. "I'm so glad you're here, JJ. Thank you for sticking beside me through all of it," you expressed, the weight of the night apparent in your eyes.

JJ squeezed your hand gently, a silent promise of continued support. In the quiet of the hospital room, the bond between you and JJ remained unspoken but palpable.

JJ looked down at you with a mix of relief and vulnerability. "I'm so glad you're okay," he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of the fear he had experienced during those harrowing hours. The genuine concern in his eyes mirrored the depth of the connection he felt with you.

"I was scared, you know? Scared of what could have happened," JJ confessed, his voice sincere. "I don't know what I would've done if…" He trailed off, the unspoken fear of losing you lingering in the air.

He gently squeezed your hand, a silent reassurance that he was there, that you were still with him. "I care about you a lot, and the thought of losing you scared the hell out of me," he admitted, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

In that vulnerable moment, the weight of the night, the relief of your recovery, and the shared emotions between you and JJ hung in the air. The hospital room, once filled with tension, now bore witness to a conversation that transcended words, the unspoken bond between the two of you deepening in the aftermath of the unexpected events.

You managed a reassuring smile through the oxygen mask, your eyes reflecting understanding and warmth. "I know you were scared, JJ. But you couldn't lose me. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," you reassured him, your voice gentle yet firm.

"I'll always be with you, in any way possible," you added, emphasizing the enduring nature of your connection. The hospital room, for a moment, became a sanctuary where the bond between you and JJ transcended the immediate challenges of the night.

JJ's eyes softened with gratitude, grateful for your words and the assurance they carried. In the quiet of the hospital room, the unspoken understanding between you and JJ became a source of strength, a reminder that, no matter the obstacles, your connection was resilient and enduring.

JJ, moved by the tender moment and your reassuring words, leaned down and gently kissed your forehead. The gesture was a silent expression of care and affection in the aftermath of the challenging night.

As he pulled back, he noticed a tear that had escaped your eye. Concern flashed in his eyes, and he frowned. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of empathy and worry.

You took a deep breath before admitting, "I'm upset about Rafe. Everything that happened tonight, it's a lot to process." The events of the night had taken an emotional toll on you, and the mention of Rafe brought forth a mix of conflicting emotions that added to the complexity of the situation.

JJ listened to your words with a heavy heart, understanding the weight of the emotions you were carrying. As you expressed your disbelief and sorrow over Rafe's actions, more tears fell from your eyes.

"I can't believe he did that," you murmured, your voice choked with a mix of disappointment and hurt.

JJ, wanting to offer comfort, shook his head. "None of this is your fault. It's not on you. I blame myself more than anything. I should've seen it coming, should've protected you from all of this mess," he admitted, his expression filled with self-blame.

The complex web of emotions, blame, and regret lingered in the hospital room as you and JJ navigated the aftermath of the night's events. The makeshift family had faced unexpected challenges, and the scars left behind were not just physical but emotional, creating a tense atmosphere that would take time and resilience to unravel.

As you shared your internal struggle with JJ, the weight of the emotions in the room became palpable. "I don't know if I can continue this deal with Rafe," you admitted, a sense of fear and uncertainty in your voice. The realization of the danger you might face by continuing the arrangement hung heavy in the air.

Internally, your heart felt heavy, torn between the rational fear for your safety and the emotional complexities tied to your feelings for Rafe. The internal conflict mirrored the intricate web of emotions that had unfolded throughout the night.

JJ, sensing the internal struggle, offered a reassuring touch and spoke with understanding. "You don't have to put yourself in danger for anyone, y/n. We'll figure this out together," he assured you, a pledge of support and unity in the face of the challenges that lay ahead. The hospital room, once a sanctuary of relief, became a space where difficult decisions and emotional battles unfolded—a reflection of the intricate dance between reason and emotion.

As the emotional weight of the night pressed on, you looked at JJ with teary eyes, silently seeking comfort and solace. With a gentle nod, he obliged, carefully settling beside you on the hospital bed. His arms enveloped you in a warm embrace as you nestled into his chest, seeking refuge from the storm of emotions that raged within.

JJ held you tenderly, understanding that words weren't always enough to heal the wounds left by a night of unexpected twists. The hospital room, usually sterile and clinical, became a haven for vulnerability and shared pain as you allowed yourself to break down, the weight of the events too heavy to bear alone.

In the intimate space of the hospital room, amid tears and shared vulnerability, you found the courage to speak your truth. Looking into JJ's eyes, you whispered, "I love you, JJ. And I'm sorry for all the conflict we've been through."

JJ's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. He took a deep breath before opening up, "I've always loved you, y/n. No matter what happened or what choices you made, I was always going to support you."

As the night drew to a close, the hospital room became a haven of solace. Exhausted by the emotional turbulence of the night, you found comfort in JJ's arms. Clutching onto his shirt, you sought solace against his chest, finding a sense of security in the midst of uncertainty.

JJ held you gently, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest a soothing lullaby. The hospital room, once filled with tension and worry, transformed into a tranquil space where the weight of the night gradually lifted.

-

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, gently waking you from the solace of sleep. As you blinked away the remnants of a night filled with turmoil, you found yourself alone in the hospital room. The absence of JJ beside you stirred a moment of disorientation, and you rubbed your eyes as you surveyed the space around.

Your phone lay on the table beside the bed, and as you reached for it, a flood of missed calls and messages caught your attention. Twenty missed calls from Rafe and a barrage of texts indicated his relentless attempts to reach you. The weight of the unread messages hinted at the urgency and concern in his attempts to connect with you.

As you scrolled through the messages, a mix of emotions stirred within you. The events of the previous night, the conflicts, and the revelations left you grappling with decisions that now demanded attention. The hospital room, once a sanctuary of quiet moments with JJ, became a crossroads where the choices you made would shape the path ahead.

As you listened to Rafe's voicemail, his voice carried a sense of distress and urgency. The apology in his tone weighed heavy, and the sincerity in his plea to talk to you was evident. He mentioned how he had begged Sarah to provide information about your condition, and after persistence, she had eventually shared that you were in the hospital recovering.

"I need to see you, just to talk. Please, give me a chance," Rafe pleaded through the voicemail, his desperation evident in every word. The complex emotions that had accompanied the events of the previous night resurfaced as you grappled with the decision of whether to face Rafe and confront the aftermath of his actions.

You composed a short and simple text message to Rafe, cutting through the tension with a straightforward offer. "You can see me at the hospital if you want to talk. Room 213," you typed and sent the message, your phone buzzing with the delivery confirmation.

The hospital room, now charged with anticipation, awaited the potential reunion and the conversations that would unfold. The choices made in the coming moments would shape the dynamics of the relationships and set the course for what lay ahead.

Suddenly, JJ entered the room with a warm smile, a coffee cup in one hand, and a blueberry bagel in the other. "Hey," he greeted, setting the treats down on the bedside table. "I went to grab breakfast while you were still asleep. Thought you might be hungry."

The aroma of coffee and the sight of the blueberry bagel provided a comforting contrast to the tension of the previous night. As JJ sat down beside the bed, the makeshift breakfast became a simple yet thoughtful gesture, a moment of normalcy amid the complexities that surrounded you.

As you took a sip of the coffee JJ had brought, you felt a surge of gratitude for his considerate gesture. Setting the cup down, you sat up in the bed, a quiet determination in your eyes. Sensing the need for a serious conversation, you turned to JJ and spoke, "I want to tell you something, but I need you to listen before you get upset."

The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming charged with the weight of the unspoken words. JJ's eyes met yours, a mix of curiosity and concern reflected in his gaze as he prepared to listen to whatever you had to share. The hospital room, a witness to both vulnerability and strength, became the backdrop for a conversation that could shape the path ahead.

As JJ waited with a mix of curiosity and concern, you took a deep breath before opening up about the voicemail Rafe had left. "Rafe called," you began, explaining the distress in his voice and the plea to talk. "I texted him back and told him to come to the hospital. I want to hear what he has to say."

JJ's reaction was immediate, and his rejection of the idea was palpable. His brows furrowed with concern as he processed the information. "Y/n, that's a bad idea," he stated firmly, his worry evident in his expression. "After everything that happened last night, do you really think he deserves another chance?"

You met JJ's concerned gaze with a resolute expression. "You're right, he doesn't deserve another chance," you conceded, acknowledging the validity of JJ's point. "But I need to hear him out, maybe for closure. For my own peace of mind."

JJ sighed, recognizing your stubborn determination. He nodded in understanding, the worry still etched on his face. "Alright," he conceded. "But if Rafe tries anything, I'll be right there to kick his ass."

You chuckled, shaking your head at JJ's protective stance. "Always the knight in shining armor, huh?" you teased, a lighthearted comment aimed at easing the tension in the room.

JJ grinned, a hint of playfulness breaking through the seriousness of the conversation. "Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble," he quipped, the banter offering a momentary reprieve from the weighty discussions that surrounded you.

The lighthearted banter between you and JJ was interrupted by the entrance of a nurse, her presence announcing a visitor waiting to see you. JJ glanced at you, silently assessing your expression, and you offered a soft look, assuring him that it was okay for him to leave the room.

As the nurse mentioned your visitor, JJ nodded and turned to the nurse. "Send him in," he said, a mix of concern and curiosity in his eyes. The hospital room, now a stage for potential resolutions, held a tension that awaited the impending conversation with Rafe.

The moments stretched in suspense as you anxiously awaited Rafe's arrival. Your heart seemed to beat at a rapid pace, a palpable nervousness settling in. The anticipation hung thick in the air, and as the door creaked open, a lump caught in your throat. Footsteps echoed in the room, and with bated breath, you turned your attention to the entrance, ready to face the conversation that awaited.

Rafe entered the room, his gaze immediately drawn to the consequences of the previous night's events. He stood in silence for a few moments, taking in the damage and the toll it had taken on you. His eyes, filled with sorrow and guilt, shook his head slowly, a visible weight on his shoulders.

"Y/n," he started, his voice heavy with regret. "I can't even begin to say how sorry I am for doing this to you." The sincerity in his words resonated, the air heavy with the weight of emotions.

Rafe's voice carried the weight of regret as he continued, "I messed up, y/n. I should've never let it get this far. Seeing you like this, it's… it's killing me."

He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes locked on yours, searching for a reaction. "I don't deserve forgiveness, but I need you to know how sorry I am. I never wanted to hurt you."

You met his gaze, a mixture of emotions playing on your face. "Rafe, what happened was unforgivable. I don't know if I can look past it," you admitted, your voice wavering with a mix of pain and anger.

He nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "I understand. I just needed you to hear how sorry I am. You deserve better."

You took a deep breath, meeting Rafe's tearful gaze as you began to express the turmoil within. "Rafe, what hurts the most is that I loved you, and I trusted you," you confessed, your voice tinged with sadness. "I never thought you'd let your emotions lead to something like this."

The sincerity in your words echoed in the room, emphasizing the depth of the emotional wounds caused by the breach of trust. Rafe's tearful eyes reflected a mixture of regret and understanding as he absorbed the weight of your disappointment and pain. The hospital room, a witness to the complexities of love and betrayal, held the remnants of a shattered connection.

Rafe's shoulders slumped under the weight of his remorse, and he took a moment before responding. "I messed up, Y/n. I let my jealousy get the best of me," he admitted, his voice strained with regret. "When I heard you left with JJ, I let irrational thoughts take over, and I lashed out. It's no excuse, but I need you to know where it came from."

His eyes remained fixed on yours, pleading for understanding as he continued, "I shouldn't have let my emotions control me like that. It's on me, and I'm sorry for what I've done to you."

As Rafe continued to apologize, the tears welled up in your eyes, and you held up a hand to stop him mid-sentence. "Stop, Rafe. I've heard enough," you said, your voice quivering with a mix of emotions.

A heavy silence settled in the room as you gathered your thoughts. When you spoke again, your words carried a weight of fear and uncertainty. "Part of me is afraid, Rafe. Afraid of what could happen if I stay around you. Afraid of the danger I might be putting myself in," you confessed. Rafe's face registered shock and sadness, the reality of the consequences sinking in.

Rafe, desperate to salvage what remained, spoke with earnestness in his eyes. "Y/n, I swear I'll never let something like this happen again. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, to be better for you," he promised, his voice laced with sincerity.

However, your expression remained conflicted, unsure of how to process the promises being offered. "Rafe, I don't know what to think anymore," you admitted, your voice a mixture of confusion and hurt. The trust that had once been a foundation in your relationship now lay shattered, and the path forward seemed uncertain.

Rafe's plea hung in the air, the sincerity in his eyes pleading for a chance at redemption. "Please, Y/n, let me show you that I can change. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you," he implored, his voice desperate for a glimmer of hope.

Silence enveloped the room as you sat there, staring back at him with uncertainty. The weight of the moment hung heavily, the room a canvas for the intricate dance of pain, regret, and the possibility of healing.

As Rafe looked into your eyes, he could see the reflection of a shattered trust, a fracture that ran deep. The weight of his actions weighed heavily on him as he witnessed the toll it had taken on you. In the silence between you, he mentally punished himself for the irreparable damage he had caused.

You finally broke the silence, your voice soft but firm. "Rafe, I need some time alone to think, to figure out what I want moving forward," you said, your gaze still clouded with uncertainty.

He nodded, a mix of understanding and regret in his eyes. "I get it. Take all the time you need," Rafe replied, standing up. He leaned down, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead, a gesture filled with tenderness and apology. His thumb brushed away a single tear that trailed down your cheek.

Without another word, Rafe left the room, the door closing behind him. The space that remained held a mix of emotions, as you grappled with the weight of your decision and the echoes of a relationship that now hung in the balance.

The drive home felt longer than usual for Rafe, each passing mile carrying the weight of guilt and somber reflection. The echoes of the hurt he had caused you reverberated in his mind, and the once-familiar roads seemed to twist and turn with the turmoil of his own emotions.

As he pulled up to his house, the grandeur of the Cameron estate loomed before him. His father, Ward Cameron, was waiting, a questioning look etched on his face. Ward inquired about Rafe's whereabouts and the visible distress on his face.

Brushing off Ward's concern, Rafe attempted to head inside, but his father halted him. "What's truly going on, Rafe?" Ward pressed, his tone demanding an answer.

Rafe hesitated for a moment before subtly revealing the connection to you. "It's about her, Dad. The girl I've been seeing," he confessed, a weight in his words.

Ward's eyes narrowed, piecing together the situation. "And have you hurt her?" he asked, a mix of concern and disappointment in his gaze.

Rafe nodded, not meeting his father's eyes. "In some way, yeah. I messed up."

Ward's expression shifted from concern to distress as he grasped the gravity of the situation. He grabbed Rafe's face, forcing him to look into his eyes. "Why would you do such a thing?" Ward demanded, the disappointment evident in his voice.

Rafe swallowed hard, unable to offer a clear answer, and the strained atmosphere hung between father and son, laden with the consequences of Rafe's impulsive actions.

Ward's grip on Rafe's face tightened as he continued to reprimand his son. "Rafe, you can't keep being so stupid with your actions. You're only digging yourself a deeper hole," Ward admonished, his voice stern and tinged with disappointment.

As Ward's words sank in, Rafe felt a lump forming in his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes once again, the weight of his own mistakes and the disapproval from his father pressing down on him. The realization of the mess he had created, not just for himself but for the people he cared about, hung heavily in the air.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry," Rafe choked out the words, the weight of his remorse evident in his teary eyes. He repeated the apologies like a desperate plea for forgiveness.

Ward, after a moment of holding Rafe's gaze, finally let go and nodded. "Go inside, Rafe. Get yourself together," he instructed, the disappointment still lingering in his eyes but with a hint of understanding beneath it. Rafe nodded in response, wiping away the tears as he turned to enter the house, leaving the gravity of his mistakes hanging in the air.

In the solitude of his bedroom, Rafe walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. As he faced the mirror, the reflection staring back at him was a disheveled portrait of remorse and sorrow. His hands gripped the sink counter, and the weight of his actions pressed heavily on his shoulders.

Tears welled up in Rafe's eyes as he confronted the damage that had been done, not only to your relationship but to the trust and connection he had once held so dear. The sobs echoed in the quiet space, a testament to the pain he had inflicted on both himself and you.

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