#disapprove: ruby

[twistedthings]

Han mirrored her chuckle, the sound low and almost inaudible over the sounds around them as his eyes slipped over her once more, his tongue flicking out briefly to wet his lips before his grin became crooked and he shook his head slightly. "She and I weren't the on same vibe..." he mused almost absent mindedly, lost in contemplation and thought for a second before the fingers on his hand which rested against her knee flexed some and he met her gaze again. "Maybe whatever you want will help me out." He suggested with a playful little squeeze of her knee.

Ruby raised her brows with a little chuckle, and looked down at the male. "I'm not sure how long I'll be here, since you waved off the last girl in your lap within five minutes." The red head teased back, her freckled cheeks coloring a bit as she simply smiled at the other, her hand resting in the back of his neck loosely while the other rested in her lap. "Whatever I want?" Ruby repeated, head tilting slightly. "Now that's just unfair, I thought you needed my help or anything.." Which was a stupid thing to say but even being in the presence of him just suddenly made her feel a little nervous, as if she had something to prove to him.

[fangswbenefits]

I can't believe I accidentally sacrificed Hawke and when I left the Fade.... Varric going "Where's Hawke? Where's Hawke?" just broke my heart...

ugh....

[avian-hearts]

do you think black sapphire has soft jammies or silky jammies.............?

[dreamyhcze]

@disapprove : closed starter for Joseph & Ruby

Joseph had always been sensitive to other creatures. It could have been the territorial nature of the werewolf, or maybe it was some heightened natural instinct that was just more developed than some of his kin. Whatever it was, that sense flared when someone had wandered too far into his territory. It wasn't one of his workers nor was it anyone that should have been there. Very few had permission to be on his land. All under the guise of keeping liability low with the logging company that he ran. While it held enough truth, there was also the desire to keep his place his own. A desire practically built into his genetics. The werewolf could practically smell the lingering hints of uncontrolled magic in the air when he had stepped outside that day. Sour notes of herbs and the dew that hung in the air before a lightning storm.

The younger woman had seemed entirely lost and unsure of what was happening around her when the sulking form of the werewolf came upon her. Saliva dripping from the tremendous maw, eyes blazing embers, and form more than twice her size, he used the intimidation factor to his advantage. The problem was when he went for the kill, he couldn't bring his jaws or his claws down. So, the next best option? Knocking her out and bringing her back to his secluded cabin. Joseph waited, impatiently growling, for her to wake. There was no time given once she did.

"What the hell are you doing on my land?" The words came out snarled, more animal than human as he stared her down.

[isolatednights]

continue from here ( @disapprove )

this isn't the first time she's waited up for them, though one of the first that they'd been out longer than anticipated and found her asleep, and admittedly, both men can't help but feel a bit of guilt. roman is quick to snatch up the outstretched fingers ⸻ pressing a brief kiss to their tips before she's up and rotating to address asher. a soft chuckle of amusement escapes the man at her words. "cheeky brat," still, he wastes little time in bending forward to scope her up and head in the direction of the stairs. "now you're just askin' too much sweetheart."

the end credits had clearly rolled some time ago, if the display across the tv screen was anything to go by. "missed you too doll. sorry we kept you waiting." rolling his eyes at roman's antics, asher is slower to follow after the pair ⸻ ensuring the house is locked up and lights are off before trailing after them. "let us clean up a bit and i'm sure that big lug will shower you with all the attention you could want and more."

[lithiumwolff]

Unzipping his pants taking them off with his trousers, he kept his eyes on her. He was pleased with her response. “That’s a good girl.” His hand touched her skin sliding back down to her core. Rubbing it softly. “I want you nice and wet for me before I open you up.” He inserted two fingers pumping her nice and slowly. Leaning down he kissed her on her lips.

Her cheeks flushed as he called her a good girl, the words echoing through her head over and over again. His following words had her pause for just a few seconds. While he pulled back she hummed, sad that he pulled his hands from. Eyes trailed down his body, fingertips moving past his muscled chest then down to his stomach. Lips parted, a little sigh escaping. "No, I-" She started. "I want more." She admitted in a whispering tone. The redhead rose to her toes, lips pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Please give me more."

[acotarxreader]

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

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“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?” 

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

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“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 

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

Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

Part Two

[swcctcrbittcr]

he watches her with an intensity that couldn't be matched by any mortal. it felt like when he stared he saw all of her. and that's why people called to him, disregarding all of the strings attached. they just wanted to be fucked, to be seen. brett could give them that. "good girl." he smirks, his free hand coming up to run through her hair, gripping it and tilting her head back. "now tell me what you summoned me for ruby. what exactly is it that you need."

Ruby's breath stopped short when he mentioned her heart was pounding and she was unable to fight the color in her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm only a little nervous." She admitted. Ruby couldn't lie anyways so she wouldn't even try to hide it. "You don't feel like a stranger." She said with a small smile, her fingers wanting to reach out and touch his skin, feel his face between her small fingers - but she waited. Her entire body felt like it were on fire when he slipped his pointing finger in her mouth and she couldn't hold the moan from passing her throat. The girl nodding at his commands and locked her lips around his finger, slowly sucking his finger. Green hues didn't leave his face when she flicked her tongue along, her movements slowly. "Like this?" She had mumbled with his finger still in her mouth.

[ameliathornromance]

“My darling lady,” the familiar rumble sent the stack of coins you had been very, very carefully stacking tumbling down.

You sighed, watching all your efforts slide down and away to become one with the ocean of coins surrounding you.

Standing from the ledge you sat on, you crossed your arms as your Dragon Boyfriend rounded the corner of the vaults and beamed at you. “I’ve brought you something.”

“Again?” You sighed, exasperated.

It’s not that you hated that your Dragon brought you things. It was wonderful and you appreciated every gift he got you, but the lengths he went to sometimes alarmed you.

One time, he came back with a jaw full of gems and jewels worthy only of Royalty and nobles. He’d brought them back just for you to look at, like a cat bringing in a mouse. While they were amazing and you appreciated them dearly… it wasn’t worth gaining your approval.

Although the gesture was nice, he also returned with injuries of his conquest. You could see it in the way he moved, gingerly setting himself down on the bed of gold, wincing slightly as he had adjusted himself to become more comfortable.

His whole under belly had been stained with blood, his wings had little cuts and bruises on them, even an arrow stuck out from under his jaw.

It worried you every time he flew out of the vault. You weren’t worth the trouble for all of these amazing things. All you needed was his love and company and yet he still insisted on bringing you all the riches in the world… as if he didn’t have enough of it already.

This time, clutched between his jaws, he held a small sack… that seemed to be wriggling.

“What’s with that face?” He asked you, gently placing the sack down with the greatest care. “You don’t want to see them?”

“’Them’?” You frowned. The way your Dragon said it made it sound like there was something living he’d brought you.

The Dragon gently nudged the sack towards you using his snout.

Wordlessly, you rushed over to the sack and undid it’s top. The cloth splayed out and revealed- “Kittens!”

All disapproval vanished from you the moment you laid eyes on the tiny balls of fluff that mewed and meowed at you. The three small cats clambered over the cloth and onto your lap.

Each one was a different colour, ginger, black and white. “How did you get these poor things? Don’t tell me you flew with them! They must’ve been terrified!” You pulled them up to your chest, desperately trying to hold onto the three of them.

A proud puff escaped the Dragons nostrils at your approval. He bent his head down towards you. “They were given to me by a Witch whose cat had just had them. She said she didn’t have the space to take care of them and thought you might like them.”

“And no one saw you, did they?” You gave him a warning look as the ginger kitten decided to climb around your neck, tiny claws digging into your skin.

“No, of course not darling.” He leaned down to you, allowing you to place your forehead against his snout. “the Witch lived far out from any kind of village, as Witches tend to do.”

After a moment, you broke apart from your Dragon boyfriend and looked down at the kittens in your arms. The black and white one squirmed in your grip, desperate for their freedom, while the ginger one had decided to make that his sleeping spot and now dozed lazily.

What had you done to deserve this? To receive all of these beautiful things? What made you so worthy? There were probably hundreds of more people in the world who needed this more than you did.

“… You really don’t have to keep bringing me these things, you know.” You said after a moment.

“But I want to,” your Dragon rested on his stomach, head laid down on top of the sea of gold as he watched you try and keep a hold of your gifts. “You are one of my greatest treasures and a treasure deserves treasure of it’s own.”

“Now you’re objectifying me.” You teased, the black kitten wriggling free of your grip, rushing over to a red ruby that sat on the edge of your seat and sniffed it with intrigue.

Your Dragon gave a huff, “that’s not what I meant.” He was silent for a moment as you finally let go of the white kitten who went to go and join her brother sniffing the gemstone.

“Do you not believe that you are a treasure?” He asked.

“Well it’s not like I’ve done anything worthy of being considered a treasure.” You said, bitterly. “Sacrifices to dragons aren’t even considered special if they’re being thrown away by their people.”

Silence fell over the pair of you again. The two kittens had now realised that they could see their own reflection in the gem – but not register that it was themselves reflected back – and had now become crablike as their fur puffed and they swiped at the gem.

“Do you think,” your Dragon growled, “that these animals are any less prized because they were brought here just like you were?”

You whipped your head around to face him. “Sorry?”

“I took them because a witch wanted to get rid of them and I brought them to you, who fell in love with them at first sight.” His amber eyes pierced through you, like he was desperate to try and get you to understand. “Have they done anything worthy to deserve your love?”

“Well, no, not necessarily-”

“So why do you believe that you are any less deserving of all these things?” The Dragon questioned. “Yes, even though you were brought to my vaults as a sacrifice, someone who wasn’t considered to be that special other than to be a meal… but have you done anything worthy of this other than being the object of my affections? Just like these kittens here?” He pointed a claw at the – in comparison – miniscule creatures.

You opened your mouth to protest, to find some kind of objection in his logic. But Dragons are wise old creatures, there was no faulting them when they had a point.

Face burning, you looked away from him earning a chuckle from the Dragon chuckled. “Nobody in this world should feel as though they are undeserving of everything. People may have told you that you aren’t, that you are nothing more than a means to appease me, but that isn’t true.” He rose his head and placed his jaw on your lap, angled so he looked up at you. “You deserve all this and more. I intend to give it all to you.”

You pursed your lips, “does this also mean that you’ll also be more careful when you fly out?”

“Of course, I always am. I want to make sure I come home to you.” The Dragon gave a dismissive snort, “darling, humans know better than to try and actually kill me. All those injuries before were just a result of a… misunderstanding.”

At that, you raised an eyebrow and returned your gaze to him.

Your Dragon boyfriend caved, “okay, perhaps not a misunderstanding, but it isn’t my fault that they wouldn’t give me all their finest clothes.”

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Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

[writerslittlelibrary]

Sharing a safehouse

masterlist

summary: after a mission gone wrong, you and Natasha are forced to lay low in a small safehouse somewhere in the countryside of England. It’s small, uncomfortable, and you’ve never been able to really connect with Natasha during your time on the team. what happens when you and Natasha are basically forced to connect?

pairing: Natasha x teen reader

warnings: none

genre: fluff

words: 1645

a/n: I would like a standing applause for the fact that I am posting another fic in the span of a month. it has happened. the apocalypse has struck 

also, have I written this trope before? yes, yes I have. will I be writing this trope again? yes, yes I will

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

The silence is unbearable. It’s not like you were against the quiet, on the contrary. You liked  a calm, quiet environment to work and relax. No, it was the quiet with Natasha that you couldn’t bear. 

You and Natasha never were the best team, mainly because it seemed Natasha just didn’t want anything to do with you. 

You didn’t blame her, truly, you didn’t. You weren’t afraid to admit you were a pretty odd kid. You liked stuffed animals, cartoons, and sometimes, when you were certain no one was watching, you’d open your drawer and take out your dolls. 

It wasn’t like you got to have any fun things when you were a child, and something as simple as a doll would have been harder to acquire than literal gold. 

You weren’t shy about admitting you had a fucked up childhood, and you weren’t shy to be watching Winx Club in the living room of the Avengers compound. It was funny, really, how at first Sam made fun of you, yet slowly started to get more and more invested to the point he would ask you when you were going to start the next episode. 

He was a total Winx Club fan now. 

The rest of the team seemed to pretty much ignore your childish side. Not in a rude manner, but rather in an uninterested manner. They didn’t think you were weird, and you liked it that way. 

Natasha, however, wasn’t at all holding back when she saw you watching a cartoon or coloring at the table.

It wasn’t like she’d get angry, but she would walk away, or give you a look like you were vermin. 

You never quite understood where her disdain for you came from. She was your favourite superhero, yet she treated you like dirt under her shoe. She wasn’t gentle when making her comments, either. 

Sometimes, when you were drawing, she’d make a comment about how you were far too old for such things, and while you were watching a cartoon she’d scoff like you were insane. 

It was a literal cartoon, not the end of the world. 

You had gotten pretty good at ignoring her antics over the past year, but you couldn’t deny that they still stung. Why did she despise you breathing so much?

At the moment, Natasha was caught up in writing her mission report while you were curled up on the couch, which doubled as the bench for the table and the bed you would be sleeping in. 

Tony was fucking loaded. Why the hell was this safehouse a literal trailer?

You were reading Rainbow Magic; Ruby, the Red Fairy. Occasionally, you’d glance up from your book, and you’d catch a glimpse of Natasha’s disapproving stare before she’d continue working. 

Okay, fine, maybe bringing the Rainbow Magic series wasn’t the most strategic plan with such a fairytale hater, but who could blame you? Those fairy books were actually very enjoyable. 

You ignored Natasha’s judgement, finishing your book before you got up, walking to the small cupboard and pulling open the doors.

Expecting for some form of entertainment in this trailer was clearly too much to ask. 

The cupboard didn’t hold much, safe for a few spiders and a bucket of cleaning supplies that looked to be at least two-hundred years past their expiration date. 

And then, at the far top shelf, you could see a chessboard peeking out amongst the shelves.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to reach it, but you got it. 

By now, Natasha had finished her mission report and was studying your every move. Of course, you caught up to her staring almost immediately, and you turned to face her while holding up the chess board. 

“Do you play?” 

Natasha frowned, before sighing and giving you a singular nod. Well, more excitement was clearly too much to ask. 

Natasha leaned forward, clearing the table of her papers and reaching for your book. She half expected her to just throw it on top of your bag in the corner, and you were more than surprised when she picked it up gently and handled it with much more care than you thought her to be capable of. 

When the table was cleared, you put the chess board down, handing Natasha the box that the white pieces were stuffed in. 

“I’m always black,” Natasha said while frowning at the colour of the pieces in the box. 

“Sure.” You passed the box with the black pieces to Natasha while arranging the white pieces on your own playing field. 

Once all the pieces were put in place, Natasha made the first move, to which you immediately responded by putting her piece back in its place. 

“White starts,” you mention as you make your own move.

Natasha huffs but doesn’t protest, instead moving her own pieces to defend against your attack. 

The game continued far into the night, and after playing for nearly three hours, you finally made your last move, trapping Natasha in a check-mate. 

“I let you do that,” Natasha says before rearranging her own pieces. 

“Sure you did,” you respond before placing your own pieces back on the board. 

“Don’t you have to go to bed? It’s far past your bedtime,” Natasha asks, glancing at the clock on the whole. 

“I don’t have a bedtime,” you remark, making your move with the chess piece. 

“You act like a child, yet you don’t go to bed on time?” 

To your surprise, you didn’t hear any judgement in Natasha’s tone. Just pure confusion. A genuine question not meant to insult you. You didn’t expect that. 

You look up at her, frowning before shrugging. 

“Can’t sleep. Nightmares,” you say, counteracting Natasha’s move by blocking her piece. “And even if I wanted to, we’re sitting on my bed.”

As if the evening wasn’t surprising enough, Natasha lets out a huff of amusement. 

“We can share the big bed. It’ll help with the nightmares,” she suggests. 

“Why?” you ask, keeping your eyes on the game in the hopes of preventing awkward eye contact. 

Natasha shrugs. “I dunno know. Another presence helps with preventing nightmares or something. There’s a study on it.”

“No, I mean why are you so nice? Why offer to share your bed with me when you normally can’t even stand to share the same room?”

At that, Natasha looks up, a hint of guilt mixed into her usual calm facial expression. 

“It’s not personal,” she says, moving her chess piece. 

“Then what is it? You’ve barely shared one conversation with me since I joined a year ago.”

“You’re a child,” Natasha suddenly says after a moment of silence. There’s venom in her voice, yet you can feel it isn’t directed at you. 

“You should be able to play with your dolls without having to feel the need to hide, and you should be able to go to school and make friends and stupid decisions. You shouldn’t live in a compound with superheroes and fight super villains weekly. You are a child, and you should be able to be one.” 

You fall silent for a moment, shocked at her revelation of knowing about your dolls, and shocked at the amount of emotion hidden under her confession. 

“You don’t hate me?”

Natasha’s head shoots up, tears glistening in her eyes. 

“Hate you? What ever gave you the impression that I hate you?”

You shook your head. “You avoid me, you scoff wherever I’m drawing or watching something in the common room. It feels like you judge me, daily.”

At that, Natasha’s facial expression softens, and her expression turns glum.

“I never meant for you to feel like you were in the wrong, and I am so sorry for that. I wasn’t judging you, I was judging the situation you’re in.” Natasha inhaled a sharp breath, turning back to the chess board and making another move. 

“Fury gave you a choice. Either prison, or joining the Avengers. You never even did anything wrong. You were just a child, graced with powers that no one understood and everyone feared. You didn’t deserve prison, and you didn’t deserve the threat of prison. You deserved a family.”

You sighed. 

“And in a way, I got a family. The Avengers are nice-”

“They’re not your family, they’re your team. There’s a difference. Sure, they care about you, but if they were your family, they’d want you to live a life, rather than become a superhero.”

Natasha fell silent, and at her words, so did you. 

Was she right? If the Avengers were your family, would they want you to live a normal, domestic life somewhere else, rather than the superhero life you were living right now?

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, it’s not like I hate my life. Just the paperwork,” you remark, moving your queen to once again trap Natasha in a check-mate. 

“I want to work something out, if you’ll let me,” Natasha then said, pouting when you took her king. 

“Like what?” you ask.

Natasha shrugged. “I don’t know yet. Something that’ll put you off missions, at least until you’re twenty-one or something. Maybe older. Something legal. I mean, you’re not even allowed to drink in the United States. Why the hell are you allowed, or better said, forced, to risk your life daily?”

At that, you snort.

“You make a good point.” 

“We’ll figure something out, I promise,” Natasha states, helping you clear the chessboard and standing up from the bench. 

“Now, it is time for bed. Tomorrow we’ll see if there’s a bakery or something in this god forsaken place.”

You snicker, taking Natasha’s hand and allowing her to lead you. Maybe she doesn’t hate you as much as you thought she did. 

Bonus a/n: rainbow magic; Ruby the Red Fairy is the first ever book I read in English.

Edit: I lied. I found the Rainbow Magic book yesterday. It was Erin, the Firebird fairy

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @papimapileon @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @l1kepeps1cvla @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[bunbun-mochi]

Jealousy II - Queen of Onychinus

Sylus x MC (Fluff and slightly smut, MDNI)

Warning: threatening of killing, swear words, very suggestive(MDNI)

Word Count:1360, no proofreading

Preview: Sylus isn't a man who's easily jealous. But if someone tries to get his wife's attention by giving her expensive jewelry, he feels unpleasant. His wife shows that she is only for her husband and no one else.

Sylus tapped on the arm of his chair impatiently. The auction was taking their sweet time to pull out anything interesting.

"2 million!"

"7 million!"

Sylus rolled his eyes, the current item, a small pink diamond engagement ring, on stage isn't even worth more than 5 million.

"12 million!"

"12 million! Going once! Going Twice" The auctioneer banged the gravel. "Sold to Mr. Mucker!"

Sylus checked his watch. He had been in this auction for nearly two hours and they had yet to showcase what he deemed interesting.

The lights on the stage switched. Another person walked toward the auctioneer and whispered into his ears. As soon that person left, the auctioneer spoke in the microphone. "We are suppose to have only two items left for auction. But we just received a news that there is another item being sold at this auction."

Sylus sat up straighter. A new item? It surely piqued his interest.

"We will be selling this item instead."

Someone walked onto the stage, placed a black box on the table. Then he slowly opened the box, reveling a black and red thigh jewelry. The jewelry sparkled under the light. It immediately caught the attention of the Onychinus leader.

"This jewelry contains one of the rarest gems in the world. It contains ruby, black diamond, and red diamond."

"2 million!" One immediately called out.

The auctioneer raised his hand, "This one start with 20 million."

"25 million!"

"30 million!"

Many bidders raised their number card, calling out their bids.

"75 million!" Hushed whispers around the auction room. Sylus immediately recognized this voice as Musker.

Sylus can imagine if his wife were to wear that around her thighs. He can already imagine his wife, on his bed, naked but with that jewel around her thighs. He wants to feel that jewel beside his head as he goes in between her legs, with her moaning his name. He wants to see that jewel sparkle as he pounds into her. He licked his lips and smirked. It'll look exquisite on her.

"Is there anyone else?" The auctioneer asked. "Going once!"

Sylus slightly moved his fingers and the catering man standing next to him immediately raised the bidding number card. The entire room echoed with the deep voice, "120 million."

The room falls silent. The auctioneer stammered, "O-One hundred twenty million! Is there anyone else?"

"128 million." Mucker countered.

Sylus narrowed his eyes. Someone dared to outbid him? "150 million."

"155 million."

Sylus smirked. This man clearly isn't qualified to bid. He only went slightly above his, trying to outbid his just by a mere million. Too bad for this man. Sylus is too excited to see what his wife's face would react to when he shows her this piece of jewelry.

"185 million." Some gasps were heard. This is the highest number anyone had bid tonight. Although a lot, it's simply pocket change for Sylus.

"186 million." The man bids again. Sylus clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"220 million." I dare you to outbid this. Sylus thought.

There was silence. Not one single one dared to outbid him. Sylus smiled to himself.

The auctioneer looked at the crowd in shock. "220 million! Going once! Going twice!" He then hit the gravel. "220 million to..." Then he hesitated, looking at his paper. "Going to... Mr. Skye!" Sylus smirked with that fake name.

The room buzzed with noise. Looking around the auction room, trying to see a glimpse of the so-called "Skye". Unbeknownst to them, Sylus was sitting on the third floor where the lights didn't reach. It's nearly impossible to see up here.

Sylus stood up and walked toward the door as the catering man that stood next to him walked toward the stage to receive the jewelry.

As he walked down the stairs, he heard two voices talking that were further down the stairs.

"That damn Skye!"

"Hush! You don't want him hearing you say that!"

"I don't give a shit. That son of a bitch. He stole that jewelry from me!"

"You don't need it."

"Yes, I do. Let me tell you, I found this woman. She is so beautiful. No amount of money or jewelry could ever compare to her beauty."

"I'm sure she'll be more happy with that pink diamond."

A sigh can be heard. "Yes, you're right."

Sylus smirked as he walked toward the party room. He picked up a champagne from the entrance, excited to see his wife. Then he stopped at his track.

His beloved wife is talking to another man. He isn't someone who's insecure that his wife would run off with someone else. But the fact that he immediately knew that man that his wife is talking to is that Mucker dumbass back in the auction room.

Mucker was talking to her while she is trying to back away from him, clearly uncomfortable. Sylus inwardly rolled his eyes. That Mucker boy really need to understand body language.

Then Mucker reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box.

Sylus widen his eyes in surprise. That son of a bitch. He's trying to give that ring to my wife!

He stride toward her but so many people were between him and his wife that he wasn't able to stop Mucker while Mucker knelt down on one knee. "Marry me please!"

The whole room hushed in excitement, waiting for her to reply. Sylus stopped, eyes glaring, ready to murder that man in front of everyone.

But the response Mucker got was a splash of champagne onto his face. "Get off your knees. I'm married." She answered. "I don't even know who you are. Leave me alone before I bury you alive."

"It's ok, I know you're just nervous! I got you a pink diamond! I payed 12 million for it!" Mucker plead, trying to grab onto her hand while she tries to swat his hand away.

"You better watch what you say and do! If you offend me one more time, I will tell my husband to kill you!" She threatened, pulling her arm away from him.

"C'mon doll," one of the bystanders said. "He brought an expensive ring for you."

MC raised her ring finger, containing two rings, one black and one red, to show to the bystander. "My husband got me this. Each of them costs significantly more than that lowly pink diamond." Then she looked over at Mucker. "My husband is rich, handsome, gentle, patient, respectful, and loyal. If you ever think I would ever lower my standards for you, you're dead wrong. Now, let go of me."

Sylus felt like he fell in love all over again. Seeing his wife standing up for him makes him very excited.

He smirked as he walked toward his wife. "Hello, dear." His deep voice rumbled.

His wife turned around and gasped. "Darling!" A rare pet name she used, just to show Mucker. "You're back already! How's the auction?"

Sylus smiled, "It's actually good. I got something-"

"Hey!" Mucker called out, cutting him off. "I know your voice! You're the one who stole the jewelry from me!"

Sylus clicked his tongue, "I'm pretty sure I got it fair and square. It's your problem when your wallet isn't big enough."

Mucker was fuming at this point. "I saw this woman first."

Sylus mockenly laughed, "I don't care. She chose me. We've been married for nearly an year. Now, excuse us."

Sylus wrapped his arms around his wife, "Let's go."

"What is the thing you got?" His wife asked.

Just as she finished asking, the catering man appeared, handing a velvet black box to Sylus. Sylus handed the box to his wife. "Open it, dear."

MC opened it, revealing the black and red thigh jewel. Sylus kissed the top of her head. "I'm expecting you to wear this tonight."

The whole room atmosphere turned awkward, as the two lovebirds expressed their love.

His wife's face turned red and nodded. Sylus laughed and led her toward the front door. He waved his hand at Luke and Kieran, giving them an order.

Get rid of Mucker.

Luke and Kieran slightly nodded and went straight to work. Sylus took MC home, very excited to see what his wife wearing absolutely nothing but that jewel around her thighs.

Should I write a continuous one, where they are doing to do's while MC is wearing that thigh jewelry?

dividers, templates, headers, and banners are from @uzmacchiato

[thearcherbrothersx]

Marcus didn't speak while she made her way through an explanation, only arching a brow quizzically when she showed him an empty text message history. Otherwise he remained still, watching her quietly, eyes hard, arms still folded over his chest. He didn't much care that his silence made her uneasy or that his gaze might have felt like a knife boring into her stomach. In fact, he might even have enjoyed making her squirm.

"Well that's one lengthy fucking explanation, right there." Marcus finally chuckled when she finished, actual mirth dancing in his gaze, mixing with something noticeably darker just underneath. He pulled out his own phone and began texting, only watching her peripherally. "Mmm, I'm sure you're not stupid enough to get caught and then lie to me. Especially considering I already took note of your name tag," he noted conversationally, though his eyes were still focused mostly on his phone. "Not that I wouldn't have found out either way; you only saved me the trouble by using your real one." He shrugged his shoulders. If nothing else, that was definitely evidence that she had no fucking clue what she was doing. He finally put his phone back in his pocket, shaking his head at her with a smirk on his lips.

"You don't even know who you're stealing from? Well, fuck. Were you dropped on your head a lot as a child or something?" His hands delved into the pockets of his pristine navy slacks as he scrutinized her. "Let me enlighten you on the extent of your stupidity then: You were trying to steal from Declan Archer. Well, his wife Sophia, but that's irrelevant."

He stepped out of the doorway then and began inching closer to her. "And sure, there are worse people to steal from, but you didn't get caught by Declan. You didn't even get caught by one of the guards who probably should have caught you. You got caught by me - and I'm bored, little thief. So I don't want you to sweep. I want you to entertain me."

Ruby tried very hard to keep his gaze but she just couldn't help but look away every now and then. Partly because he was probably the most handsome man she'd ever been standing so close to, and partly because he seemed to be so calm and controlled. It made her even more nervous and she was really trying to keep up the tough act. "Sir- I can explain - just let me explain. Please?" The red head fished her phone from the burgundy apron that was tied around her waist, above her little black dress. "It was an anonymous number that texted me- I just saw this thing where I just had to do one little task and I would get a bit of money for it." A lot of money actually, by just getting a few fancy jewels from a place. Naive as she was, she accepted the job. She was scrolling through her phone, but of course, all messages send were deleted by the sender. "They were just here, I swear-" Ruby turned her phone to show him the empty text message with nothing but a phone number.

"They helped me with a job at this event to hand out some drinks, then just go up and get that box, and another red little box. Everything I had to do was in this message - then meet them at eleven through the back. A black VW Polo would be waiting for me and I would get the money." A tiny sigh left her lips again, and she stared down at her feet. Noticing the little name tag, with her actual first and last name, tucked to the apron, she tried to secretly shove some of her long red locks over it. She had no idea who she was stealing from, let alone who was in front of her. "I'm sorry." She repeated, eyes drifting from his face to the door behind him. With a tiny step to the side, she cleared her throat and opened her arms to him. "I put everything back, just - check it you don't believe me." She mumbled. "I just really needed the money, I got fired and I have trouble paying my rent. That's all. I didn't think it through. Really, this is not like me at all." Stuttering once again through her words. "If you want me to sweep the floor, I will. Please just don't tell whoever rich bastard is living here. I have learned my lesson."

[banditthewriter]

Trust - Astarion fic

My first try at writing for Astarion. Here's hoping I don't butcher him! 1.1k words, not edited at all lol

Enjoy!

***

The box was wrapped in a simple brown paper. You tucked it under your arm as you made your way through the crowds of people that filled the square. Gone were the tiny villages that you had stopped at before. Baldur's Gate offered many new opportunities and options, as well as new dangers.

Which was partially why you had the box. It wasn't for you though. It was for Astarion. He had stayed back at the inn, not wanting to be out and about while things with Cazador were unsettled. Especially not after riling up his siblings.

You motioned to the group that you were ready to leave. Gale had an armful of books and scrolls, Shadowheart had a small leather bag with something solid in it, and Karlach had a shiny new ax that she was desperate to try on her old boss's face. Once everyone paid up and gathered their purchases, you all set off back to the inn.

After you stowed your other purchases, you made your way over towards the fire. Astarion sat in one of the plush seats closest to it, his eyes on the flames while a goblet of probably-not-wine sat clutched in one hand. You watched him for a moment before you crossed over to him.

The firelight reflected back in his red eyes as he watched the flames dance in the fireplace. You knew that he was aware of your presence but you also knew he wouldn't address you until he was ready.

Scratch and Scritch, the name Shadowheart had given the owlbear cub, came barreling through and nearly missed his legs. That's what broke the spell the fire held over him.

"What can I do for you, fearless leader?"

You rolled your eyes at his tone. Then, without a word, you held out the box. The plain brown paper didn't give way to anything, but the small bow you had tied with a red lace ribbon showed that it was a gift.

"What's that."

It wasn't a question really, more like a confused statement. You rolled your eyes again and thrust it out closer to him.

"It's called a gift."

Astarion stared at the box for a long moment before he used his free hand to accept it from you. Gently he placed it to balance on his knee before he looked back up at you.

"Why are you giving me a gift?"

You shrugged as your eyes went from his confused facial expression to the box on his knee.

"Because I saw it and thought of you. Does there have to be a reason?"

The silence that followed that question was enough to remind you just who you were dealing with. Astarion didn't trust kindness without purpose. He trusted you, at least you hoped he did, but he still disapproved when you did kind things for others unless there was something to gain from it.

A gift for no reason? Of course he was looking for the catch.

"Just open it Astarion," you urged with a gesture to the box.

He gently placed the goblet down on the table beside his chair. Then he slowly lifted the gift to inspect the wrapping. First he untied the lace ribbon and laid it on the table. Then he found the place where the paper had been tucked and pulled it out slowly.

Either he was careful because that was just his manner or he expected a trap. Either was possible at this point. You had been known to rip gifts open with abandon so this was definitely something to bear witness to.

The paper finally came undone and he let it fall to the floor beside his boots as he looked at the simple wooden box. You didn't rush him, but eagerness made you shift your weight a bit as you waited to see his reaction.

He undid the clasp and lifted the lid. You couldn't see the gift from where you were, but you'd stared at it enough before you forked over a truly jaw dropping amount of gold for it.

With a questioning noise, Astarion lifted the dagger out of the box and held it up. The silver blade shone red and orange from the firelight nearby. Then the hilt had a series of red rubies that seemed to glow.

"Careful, it's sharp," you started, but he interrupted.

"Well of course it's sharp, who buys a dull dagger?"

You knew his sarcasm was hiding his confusion, so you didn't react to that. Instead you pointed to the hilt.

"There's runes inscribed on the hilt, do you see them? The dagger is extremely dangerous to vampires." At his raised eyebrow, you shrugged and looked away towards the fire. "I know you don't trust me yet when I say that I...that we will keep you safe from Cazador. Maybe having that will help you feel a bit more in control. That if any of them try to take you against your will, you have more in your arsenal than just the tadpole. Even if you feel like you can't rely on us, you aren't vulnerable."

A few moments of silence seemed to drag on forever so you glanced over at him. He met your gaze and then shifted to switch out the dagger that was in his boot. You knew that he would wear it on his hip when he was armored, but for now, he kept it close.

"Thank you," he offered lowly as he closed the empty box. "I...have nothing to give you in return."

"A gift doesn't need reciprocity. I just want you to feel safe."

He gave a nod, his eyes drifting down to the box that he held loosely on his lap. With nothing else to say or do, you turned and headed towards towards the few stairs that would lead you to the rest of the room.

His voice called out and made you stop.

"Would you like...to join me? By the fire."

You turned around and smiled. You eased yourself into the chair next to him. He put the box down beside his feet, tucking the wrapping paper beside it as well. Then he picked up his goblet and offered it to you.

You took a quick sip, grateful that it was wine and not blood, and handed it back to him.

"I do believe you when you say you will do whatever it can to keep me from Cazador's grips," he explained quietly, his eyes trailing from your face to the fire. "Whether that will be enough to truly keep me safe is yet to be determined."

"We have the advantage, but we'll face him together."

Astarion's red eyes met yours, the fire lighting behind him to make him look like he was glowing.

"Together."

[mrsoharaa]

Imagining Miguel going through Gabriella's teen years. Being an "overprotective" dad the moment she goes on a date!

You, were obviously okay with it, knowing she's just entering her ripe ol' age of curiosity and teenage normalcy of dating. But for Miguel. That was an entirely different aspect.

The sound of Gabriella's bedroom closes almost too enthusiastically, blaring and alarming everyone (in which case, was just only you and her at the moment, thus Miguel being away at work) in the cozy home of her excitement and thrill for her date tonight.

When you contently hum to yourself, readying dinner for the three of you, you can hear her weighted footsteps of joy prance through into the dining room/kitchen vicinity. A lifted giggle spilling from her lips as she gazes over her phone.

You turn to meet your daughters giddy expression, acknowledging that familiar delight and glee sprawl all over that gleaming face.

"Someone's excited for tonight" you smile happily at your grinning little bundle of joy (or at least, that's what you still call her since she is technically still your baby). Gabriella places her phone down for a second, practically hopping and throttling with pure exhilaration and eager.

"I really am mama! tonight is going to be so much fun! he's taking me out to that new nice restaurant that just opened up down the street! you know, the one by that one cafe you really like?! across the street from them!" She announces with pure elation, angling her phone as she glances through the reflection of her device to fix the little gorgeous strands of familiar dark mahogany from her adoring face.

"Oh lovely! sounds like fun! do you want me to put away some food for you later, mija?" you smile at her. ("Daughter")

"Sure, thank you mami!" she excitedly whips back.

The sound of a warping buzz elicits from the living room, a hulking, brooding stature of a 6'9 suited man, shuffles his self through the vast yellow portal that immediately dissipates behind him the moment he steps into the living space.

A weighted sigh expels from behind the dark maroon and navy mask that hid his beautiful face. He retracts his stiff shoulders, murmuring something under hefty grumbles. His attention quickly turns to your direction, noting the cutely attired and heavily anticipated daughter sitting onto one of the stools by the kitchen's island.

He dissipates his mask, thick brows raised in curiosity and confusion, heavy, tired lids of ruby stroll back onto you.

"¿Qué pasa aquí?" he tilts his head, still rotating his aching shoulders to try to rid of the pulsing, nagging weight pinching at his muscles from a long strenuous day. ("What's going on here?")

"Our daughter has a date tonight honey, isn't that exciting?" you grin coyly at the frowning man looming over next to Gabriella.

"She — what?!" Miguel's scowl quickly qwhips over to his daughter, watching her roll her eyes and head with a low giddy sigh.

"I already told you papa, remember? yesterday? before you dropped me off at school?" Gabriella twirls her phone in her hand, watching her fathers face twist with mixed emotions. Particularly one, to be precised — disapproval.

"I don't recall having this conversation with you, Gabriella" he states dryly, uncertainty clinging to his gruff voice.

You turn in his direction, eyeing him for his sudden disapproving tone.

"Yeah, I did! I told you right as you pulled into the schools front parking lot! you really have that bad of a memory dad?" Gabriella shrugs, watching her father glare over at you. Noting the head tilt and stern eye contact the two of you shared.

He groans inwardly, annoyed profusely by the fact that his little girl is going on a date. That he, oh so never recollected on, hearing about.

"Who is he? where does he live? What's his phone number? Where are you two goi- Miguel" you chuckle lightly, fully facing his direction as you met with his furrowed gaze.

"...Right right" he sighs defeatedly, glimpsing back over to his beautiful child as he smiles more tender heartedly. Takes a step closer towards her and embraces her with long, warm open arms. Easily engulfing her into his taller stature, one hand nestled around her comfortably as the other brushes over her hair. Places a gentle kiss on top of her pretty tresses.

"Just...be safe for me mija, make sure he doesn't try kissing you" Miguel mumbles into her hair, Gabriella simply laughs as she returns a squeezing embrace back to her doting, grumpy father.

"Miguel" you warn once again with a lenient smile, the three of you chuckle in unison.

Gabriella pulls away "I promise I'll be so safe papa! I'll call you if anything happens, I promise!" she leans on her tip toes to give her father a soft peck to his right cheek, he rumbles a relaxed grumble.

"Esa es mi chica, ve a divertirte mija" he gives her another head kiss, feeling her reel from his embrace and rush out the door, waving to her loving parents. ("That's my girl, go have fun daughter")

The sound of the door slamming close grates through Miguels ears, the familiar same scowl from before returning back onto his churning face.

With your back facing him and your attention drawing back to your cooking, you could feel the searing burn of his dim eyes peer at the back of your head. A simple hum dwindles from your pursed, curled lips.

"So, she's dating now? since when?" he finally flushes the thickening air, leaning over the island, eyes strictly focused on you.

"She's a teenager Miggy, you have to let her go through these things" you insist, peppering the seasoned chicken breast in the bowl in front of you.

The sound of his teeth lowly ticks through the air, his retracted claws tapping amongst the marbled tile of the island he leaned over.

"She'll be fine my love, you and I both raised that little girl right...she knows how to defend herself" you peek over your shoulder to wave an irate Miguel one of your reassuring smiles. The very same one that always made his heart melt and feel at ease.

You can see the tensity of his body softly, hardly, unwind, his dim lidded irises softening to your tender gaze. He emits a long sigh.

"I know I know...I just...worry about her is all" he exhales, watching you take a step back and bend over to place the bowl into the oven.

A feeble giggle lilts off your lips, straightening yourself up and walking over to your overly exerted husband, you cup your hands onto his cheeks and brush your thumbs gingerly along the warm, supple flesh. A deeming smile weaving onto your cheeks.

"And that makes you such an exemplary father, baby" you softly cooed, feeling his head lean into your homely touch instantly. Almost purring to the welcoming feeling of your smooth skin caressing his hardened face.

"She'll be okay Miggy, I promise" you lift up onto your toes and place a soft kiss to his full lips, smirking as you feel him lean downward to keep his lips onto yours, growling lowly as he feels you pull away from his pursed, needy plush of skin.

"You remember what it was like when we were teenagers, don't you?" you coy, playing with the plump silken flesh that formed into that familiar pout you had grown to love and adore.

"How we use to sneak out of our parents houses at night to meet...take your fathers car to come pick me up and drive through the city after midnight...going on starry night dates and peaceful drive ins, before you became Spider-Man" your heart practically swoons through your fluttering chest from the recommencing loving memories flooding through your head.

Miguel nearly feels his heart thrashing violently against his chest, pupils dilating widely as you sigh dreamily.

"Wait — she's sneaking out of the house now? that I DON'T KNOW ABOUT?! SINCE WHEN?! ¡Oh, por el amor de Dios!" Miguel snarls, you burst into a fit of laughter, holding and pulling his face back down to meet your level. Carefully planting your head against his, as you continue to smooth his cheeks with your fingers. ("oh for fucks sake!")

"No no baby! of course not! I'm just saying!" you chuckle lightly, reeling him into your subtle massage amongst his face. His body relaxes, breaths steadying out as he lowers his enraged eyes, gently gazing down at you.

Hums at the supple touch of your hands slowly drifting down to his broad shoulders.

"She's going to be alright honey, you just have to trust her...trust me" you feel his weight slowly ease further into your touch, the pulling, tantalizing pressure of your fingers massaging at his stiff shoulders basking him in a trance of relaxation and tranquil. He sighs softly, leans forward to plant a sweet kiss onto your forehead, then your nose and finally your lips.

"I trust you...I trust the both of you more then anybody"

"I know you do Miggy...now come, let me help you relax, your shoulders feel very stiff and stagnant" you lull him into another kiss, giggling cunningly as you pull away and listening to him rumble another irritated grumble from your swaying motion from his lips.

A shorten, pitched yelp cranes from your lungs as you feel your body abruptly being pulled back to his body. Your own being hoisted and pinned against his, his arms wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he nuzzles into your chest, resting his chin onto the comforting mounds.

"Those can wait, seems like my wife wants to keep pulling away from my kisses...I think a punishment is in order, no?" he grins slyly, wickedly as he cups your rear with his large hands, adoring the upbringing fluster pooling into your cheeks.

"M-Miguel no! I have dinner to tend too!" you chirp with a giggle, feeling his wide hands playfully smack at your voluptuous bottom, quickly smoothing over the rounded clothed flesh. Leans up to kiss your chin.

"Dinner will be fine cariño...It won't take long anyways...maybe" he nuzzles beneath your chin, laughing at your adorable resistance to his cheeky advances.

[mothhball]

SANGUINEOUS

JONATHAN CRANE X VAMPIRE!FEM!READER

summary Jon takes the time to feed his pet

warnings SMUT!! PET PLAY, sub!reader, p in v, unprotected, dom/sub themes, injury, blood drinking, pet names for reader (pet, good girl), death mention, reader kinda ate (literally)

notesI had Nolanverse in mind while writing, but there's not much description of him lmao. Also, this was supposed to be the pet play entry for kinktober but 😬 my bad, whoops

! MINORS DNI !

event masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 1.6k

The floor felt cold beneath you, sending a shiver down your spine as you watched him with bated breath, waiting for a command, a word of praise, anything.

There was a fire in your eyes, never waning, never dying. You’d outlast his life tenfold, and he knew it as well, but that wasn’t a conversation for nights like these. No, on nights like these, he’d make you crawl, gloved hands and stockinged knees. A predator, adorned with lace and silk and a collar around your neck.

Two truths made up the foundation of this peculiar relationship.

Firstly, both of you knew that you could easily destroy him. Tear him to pieces until he'd be little more than disassembled flesh and bone. Until the sweet essence of his body would cover you in brilliant, scarlet rivulets.

But secondly and more importantly, you both knew that he'd trained you well enough so you wouldn't.

As much as you held the power of life and death within your palm, Jonathan held the leash that kept you tethered to his side. A snarling, exotic pet that bent to his will.

And exactly this predicament was what got you addicted in the first place.

The sensation of kneeling; of obeying. The delicious humiliation of submitting to what was supposed to be prey. The lust in his eyes always mirrored your own, because as much as he liked to lead and own, you desired to follow and be possessed.

“Jonathan,” you rasped, fixing him with gleaming, insatiable eyes from where you knelt before him. The clicking of his tongue betrayed his disapproval, but there was no ire in his eyes. No, the icy blue of his irises was almost completely eclipsed by his blown-out pupils, darkened with a need that only you could satiate.

“Pets don’t speak, do they?”

Your jaw clenched at that, lips pulling down into a frustrated pout, which only caused him to chuckle lowly. His pointer finger flexed, silently commanding you to get closer to where he was seated on the edge of his workbench. Of course, you knew what he kept in those sickly green vials and syringes. You knew from the second he stumbled upon you that fateful night, mistaking you for a helpless little thing he could use to test his latest concoction.

It was only when you revealed your nature that the tables turned instantly. In hindsight, you were happy that you didn’t rip his throat open; that you took the time to see him for what he was. Now, you were monsters of two different kinds, toying with each other in ways that made your skin crawl delightfully.

You followed the gesture of his finger, breath hitching as he hooked it into the metal ring of your collar and yanked you even closer and up on your knees, cheek resting on his thigh.

“You’re famished, aren’t you, pet?” he said, regarding you with a haughty smile that caused your insides to shiver with need. You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. Jonathan knew the telltale signs of your vampiric hunger; could tell by your posture, the lacking health of your hair, and dull skin.

He hummed, thumb caressing your jaw as he kept his eyes on your ruby ones. Then, he patted his lap with his free hand.

“Up.”

The bell on your collar jingled as you got settled in his lap, straddling his thighs and shifting to get comfortable. Jonathan allowed it, surprisingly patient for a man who adored the marks that a little rough treatment would leave on your body. But for now, he just watched as you got situated, his fingers idly tracing patterns over your hip, which caused goosebumps to spread beneath his touch. Once you were finally settled, he brushed the back of his hand over your cheek and then higher up to adjust the plush cat ears on the top of your head. Something you used to pretend to hate. Fortunately, Jonathan was stubborn enough to insist on them time and time again. Until you gave in and openly started to enjoy the little accessories and trinkets.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, grabbing the back of your neck.

Your eyes were fixed on his nimble hands as he undid his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Instantly, your attention was caught by the steady thrumming of his pulse beneath his skin. The mere thought of his velvety blood on your tongue already made you salivate. A willing morsel.

“No. Focus.”

His voice and the tightening grip on your nape released you from your momentary trance, and you swallowed thickly. “You know the drill.”

His cock was already hard by the time he freed himself from the confines of his slacks. Obediently as ever, you raised your hips and allowed him to pull your panties down and carelessly toss them aside.

With how quickly you were complying, one might’ve thought your years of immortality were about to catch up to you. But it was the hunger that drove the urgency of your movements. Hunger that felt like a black hole in the pit of your stomach. A hole that only the rich, sanguine lifeblood of your master could fill.

Jonathan’s free hand crept up the inside of your thigh at an agonizing snail’s pace, taking far too long for your liking until his fingertips dipped between the glistening folds of your pussy. Fleeting pleasure. Far too little to please, yet too much to stay still. Your needy whine earns yourself a tug on your hair.

“Behave,” he warned, rubbing slow circles around your clit. Jonathan let go of your hair again, unbuttoning his shirt more and more to properly expose his shoulder. You almost bit your own tongue at the sight. The faintest visible throb of his heartbeat, the healthy flush on his pale complexion; arousal, excitement.

And a hint of fear.

Terror beneath rose-tinted glasses.

It was an exercise of restraint as he made you sink down on his length, stretching you open around his cock. The appetizer to the impending main course.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, breath heavy and hands grasping onto the flesh of your hips as he looked up at you. Eyes full of need. Of reverence and trepidation.

And then, Jonathan dipped his head back to bare his throat to his most favorite pet.

“Feed.”

Your mouth was on his throat within seconds as you pounced like the predator you were. Tongue lapping at his skin, you felt the steady beat of his heart as you licked a stripe up the column of his neck. And then you sunk your teeth into his flesh. Deeply.

The man beneath you flinched, his grip tightening on you as a pained groan slipped past his rosy lips. The initial bite always hurt. But what followed was the sweetest pleasure. His eyelids fluttered shut as you began to swallow gulps of his blood, drinking him like the most exquisite wine.

Jonathan had to pull himself together, gritting his teeth to focus as he began to thrust up into you, fulfilling his own carnal desires. Quickly taking the hint, you followed along to his rhythm, meeting every roll of his hips with one of your own.

Moaning with a mouthful of blood, your hands found their way into his hair, desperately tugging and pulling as your mind started to blank. Debased, bouncing in the lap of your master, you were less than and more than human at the same time.

A creature tamed by pleasure.

As Jonathan slowly started to become light-headed, his fingers curled into the back of your collar to pull you off of him, and after one more flick of your tongue against the wound, you released his flesh from between your fangs.

Both of you were panting and whimpering, working up to a desperate climax that was rapidly approaching. Jonathan’s blood was smeared across your parted lips, rolling down your chin and throat in beautiful runlets, and disappearing in the valley between your breasts. If this were the last thing he’d ever see, Jonathan was sure he could die a happy death.

But not now.

Right now, he was alive, and his thrusts sped up as he neared the edge. Despite the loss of blood, his pulse sounded even louder in his ears, and you could hear it as well.

Gritting his teeth, he reached down your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb, determined to push you over the edge first. It’s what any good owner would do.

The filthy moan he got from you in response was reward enough for him, and even in this state, he still managed to grin up at you as your face twisted with pleasure. Grabbing onto his shoulders, your back arched as you came, whimpering and choking out noises with your face tilted towards the ceiling.

Jonathan’s pace only quickened, emboldened by the sight of your trembling form and the exquisite clenching of your slick folds around his cock. Even as you began to squirm, his thumb kept circling your clit.

“No. No, don’t pull away. Don’t be greedy, pet. Let me have this– “ His voice was strained, hissed out from between bared teeth as the bucking of his hips grew more erratic.

One more thrust. And then another. And he finally, finally succumbed to the bliss of his own climax. Jonathan cursed under his breath, pulling your body flush against his to get to your shoulder, where he sank his own teeth into your skin. Or, well, tried to. Aside from the dull pain, he didn’t do any damage.

His bite would leave a bruise; yours would leave a scar. One of many.

And neither of you would ever want it any other way.

@ellebellebarnes @harrystyelsgf @mcumorningstar @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom

@pretty-bluebird @calicoartie @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @sillycillyforlife

@ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @biblicallyaccuratebee

@notveryoptimistic @smxkyqvxrtz @luvlloyd @blvdymary @paradiseprincesss

@vegasisthinking @ilovedottore @cillianslvt @ddawgg1 @tkappi

@humbuginmybones @jordyn-yeager @chaengist @ryecosse @strangeobsessed

[ne0ngrav3]

Viktor leaned against the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee with slow, deliberate movements. His dark eyes flicked from Ruby’s laptop screen to her face, amusement tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Change?” he echoed, voice smooth, almost thoughtful. He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. “That depends. Do you think he wants to change? Or is he only pretending because she wants him to?”

He stepped closer, resting his hip against the back of her chair, peering at the words she’d typed. His fingers drummed lightly against the wood. “See, the thing about addiction—” he tilted his head slightly, a shadow of something unreadable flickering in his expression “—is that it isn’t about choice, not really. It owns him, shapes him. And if she thinks she can fix him?” He let out a quiet chuckle, low and knowing. “She’s already lost.”

He leaned down just enough that his voice dipped near her ear. “Maybe she never stood a chance at saving him. Maybe she was always meant to fall.”

Viktor pulled back then, his smirk lingering. “So tell me, Ruby—” his gaze lingered on her hands, on the way her fingers hovered over the keys. “What kind of ending do you really want?”

"That's-" she started, staring down at the endless trail of words on her laptop. "Actually perfect, I mean - it makes sense that he's unable to stop himself from killing. It's his addiction." Ruby tucked a stray of her fiery red locks behind her ear as she read over the last chapter she just wrote. "Then again, she is waiting for him to change, trying to fix him..." A sigh fell from her lips again, face turning to meet the other. "What do you think? Should he change for her, or should she join him on the dark side?"