#dusty and dizzy

[quicksilverdaisyday]

scott pilgrim oc posting. here’s Dusty (left, he/him) and Dizzy (she/her). they’re twins :)

they’re both part of their own bands- dusty’s is a shitty, unnamed band that can’t decide what they want their sound to be, and dizzy is the frontwoman for a moderately popular rock girl group.

dusty’s got the hots for stephen stills and dizzy’s got some crazy rivalry yuri going on with envy adams

[strawberry-barista]

⚅— @justiceburst asked: —⚅

⚅— "Get me a drink and make sure nobody disturbs me for half an hour." (from akechi! i miss writing with you :)) —⚅

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

"You got it, boss. What kinda drink can I getcha today? Just a regular coffee fine or were ya lookin' for something specific?"

Hanekoma reached under the counter to take up a marker in his hand and passed around to the front door. He didn't have a lot of concern about anyone coming into Wildkat, since this place tended to be pretty quiet most days, but if he was really going to do the service he might as well go the whole nine. A sigil drawn along the doors to ensure no one outside of the cafe even noticed its existence, and then he was making his way back to the counter.

Something special about this one, he had realized. He had a good imagination on him, and he felt so very familiar. The way he sat, the way his eyes seemed just a little more inward than outward, even if he was paying attention. Hanekoma had seen this before from someone very close to him, and he wondered if they were much of anything alike. It would be interesting to see how this played out, though he didn't know if he would be able to get very far.

"Make sure nobody disturbs me for half an hour" lent itself to meaning he probably wasn't up for much conversation. He was looking for introspection, maybe, or perhaps he just wanted to breathe for a second. If he was usually very busy with people, maybe he was sick enough of them that he wouldn't be much for humoring a nosy barista. A damn shame, but if he had good enough service he might get a second appearance. And as long as that was the case, he might even get him to open up over time. Slow and steady and all that.

[toastsnaffler]

got some demeter fragrance samples (dirt & earthworm) and its driving me insane how fucking good they smell i wasnt actually expecting them to be this much like rich soil

[hellohoihey]

Spending my time very well

[badolmen]

:)

[konigsblog]

Could you possibly do one where König get cuteness aggression..?

kidnapper, loser könig and his obsession with you only intensifying once he has you where he wants you. :(

WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-CON, KIDNAPPING, KIDNAPPER-KÖNIG. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

he can't stand leaving you all alone in the chamber, down in the dusty, dirty and cold basement. he feels guilty that you're freezing cold, and beyond terrified, the goosebumps on your skin spreading when he comes down and visits you. your shaking constantly, your eyes glossy, your cheeks tearstained and your face sensitive and raw from the loneliness consuming you.

despite being cruel towards you, he can't handle his cuteness aggression when he sees you. you're absolutely perfect, perfection to könig, his obsession and his sweetheart. he's just protecting and caring for you, why are you so, so scared of him? :(

he grips your face firmly, holding your jaw tightly while looking into your eyes. your head tilted back to look upwards at him, while your bottom lip quivers when he places kisses all over your face, tenderly loving on you. poor thing, you seem so nervous... he just wants to make sure you know how badly he wants you. :(

he'll force his way inside your sore, tight hole while you wail pathetically, achingly tight around his thick girth. you become dizzy and lightheaded, mumbling out something incoherent and sniffling as the ache throbs between your supple, slicken thighs. he speaks to you as if you don't understand, belittling you and telling you that you need könig by your side... you can't made the correct decisions, he knows what's best for you, which is why he has your thighs spread apart and his big, fat dick is forced and filling your pussy up, coddling you and sympathising with you, while you're cunt becomes swollen... :(

[superprofesh]

The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 1

Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader

Description: The first time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — on set, with lots of paint involved.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.1k

Tag List: let me know if you want to join! :)​

Author’s Note: This is part 1 of what I hope will be a six-part series, but it can be read as a stand-alone too. I am so obsessed with Colt right now that I can't even see straight, so just take this and do whatever you want with it!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The first time Colt Seavers almost kisses you, you’re not sure it actually happened.

You’ve been on set for about two months now, and your job as set decorator for the biggest action thriller of the decade has ended up being way more challenging than you expected. Every day, it’s a new demand from the director — more realistic graffiti, more subtle light fixtures, more beat-up furniture. It’s going to look amazing, but you’re exhausted just thinking about another day of smearing grime on the set walls by hand.

The one bright spot of every day is Colt Seavers. He’s the best stuntman in Hollywood, so naturally he’s been recruited to perform stunts for almost every scene in the movie. Watching him get thrown against walls, riddled with bullets, and dropped from dizzying heights is heart-pounding for you, but nothing gets your heart pounding as hard as when he leans a little too close to you, so close you can see the dusty brown of his eyelashes against his soot-stained skin.

“Nice sign,” Colt quips, dropping onto the picnic table seat next to you. You’re hand-painting a bright-red Do Not Disturb sign for the next scene, and you barely manage to keep from smearing the paint when you whirl to face him. “Is it for your trailer door?”

You give him a mock glare, laughter slipping through the edges. “Very funny. It just so happens that you’ll be kicking this sign in half in tomorrow’s scene, so show a little respect.”

Colt’s eyes sparkle at your words, all his attention focused on you. He leans forward on one elbow, the other reaching up to ruffle the dust out of his hair. “Wow, a handmade prop just for me to kick in half?” He grins, inclining his head in a mock bow. “I’m honored.”

You can’t hide your return grin, or the blush rising under your skin at his close proximity. Colt always has this effect on you — never pushing the limits to make you uncomfortable, just taking up space with you in a way that steals your breath.

“What’s this?” you ask, using your free hand to tug on the shoulder of his fireproof vest. One side is seriously singed, close enough to his skin to set you to worrying.

Colt shrugs, flashing you a crooked smile that makes his left eye crinkle. “Little pyrotechnics mishap,” he informs you casually, brushing imaginary dust off his arm and onto you. You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Ray got a little overexcited with the stun grenades.”

“What?” You can’t keep the concern from slipping into your voice, even though you try to disguise it behind a joking tone. “You’re working with real stun grenades now?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, as if it should be obvious. “It’s only a stunt if it’s real, you know?”

You narrow your eyes, cocking your head to one side. “I think that’s the opposite of how it works, actually.”

Colt just laughs at that, the golden rays of the setting sun turning his tanned skin golden. His smile is warm and directed entirely at you, heating up the blush in your cheeks again. You turn your eyes back to your painting to keep from completely giving yourself away.

These past few months have been both paradise and torture for you. You thought you could hide your crush easily enough — it’s not like you haven’t done that before. But with Colt, it’s different. He sees through your stoic facades and teases out your laughter, searches for ways to make you smile even on your bad days. Whether it’s pulling a goofy face at you from his rig or remembering that you like sour cream in your soup, Colt has found some new way to surprise you every day that you’ve known him.

The thing is, you’re not sure if he’s actually interested in you or just being flirtatious. Misinterpreting the signals would be awkward and painful for you at this point, so you’ve decided that he’s just going to have to make the first move. You’re too old to play middle-school games with him.

Even if he does give you middle-school butterflies all over again.

You don’t realize that you’ve been lost in your thoughts until you notice that Colt has imperceptibly moved closer to your side, peering over your shoulder as you put the finishing touches on the purposely-sloppy sign.

“So I kick the sign in half tomorrow,” he says softly, his husky voice in your ear sending goosebumps over your skin. “What happens if we have to do another take?”

You risk a glance over your shoulder at him, letting a coy smile slip. “Do you really think this is the only one I’ve done?”

Colt just lifts his eyebrows at you and smiles, returning his eyes to the sign in your hands. Colt has a way of burning you up just with his gaze, and you can’t help breathing an inner sigh of relief every time he focuses his attention elsewhere. Concentrating on anything when he’s looking at you is impossible.

“You know, I could definitely give you some pointers on set design sometime,” he mutters, as if he’s genuinely musing on the thought. You know he’s warming up for a joke, so you let him continue, hiding your smile while he watches over your shoulder. “I have tons of experience in your department.”

“Oh, really?” You grab your black paint and begin the focused task of sprinkling the sign with the darker color for a realistic touch. Realism is the key to making memorable set designs, and you’ve mastered the technique.

“Mm-hmm.” You feel the murmur reverberate in his throat when he leans forward, resting his chin on your shoulder while you lightly dab your paintbrush in your paint bottle. Your heart skips at least three beats when you feel his hair tickling the side of your neck, his eyes still locked on the sign as if he’s studying it. Does he really not know what he’s doing to you, or is he doing it on purpose?

You try to keep your hands steady while you feel his chest rise and fall against your shoulder. Struggling to hide the tremor in your voice, you tease, “What could I improve about this piece, then? I can always use an expert opinion.”

He tilts his head to the side, his chin still resting on your shoulder. You can feel the bristly stubble on his cheeks now. It’s an oddly comforting sensation, one that forces every bit of your self-control to the brink in order to keep yourself from moving your face to the side and nuzzling your cheek against his. You feel his face move slightly as his mouth turns up into a smile.

“If you really want some advice…” he begins, lifting one hand up to trace the edge of your sign.

“Careful,” you warn him, “that’s wet paint.”

Colt doesn’t even get close to smudging your paint, but that doesn’t stop you from lifting your free hand to rest on his wrist, holding it in place while you set your paint bottle down. Colt stills at your touch, and your heart accelerates again at the gentle way his fingertips rest on the edge of your sign.

He lets the moment hang in the air between you for a moment, then comments, “I was just going to suggest a nice artist’s signature. See this big gap right here between Not and Disturb? Your name should go there in big red letters.” You’re already swatting his hand away playfully as his serious tone devolves into snickers. “Just like Bob Ross does on TV.”

“You are so ridiculous,” you laugh, glad to feel the tension slipping out of the atmosphere. Colt lifts his chin off your shoulder now, his hair brushing your earlobe as he does.

“No, it would look perfect,” he insists, his eyes sparkling as his smirk widens. “And then I can aim right for your name when I kick it in half tomorrow.”

He laughs out loud when you slam the sign down on the picnic table surface in mock irritation, your grin making your amusement at his joke obvious. The slam sends a few drops of the black paint from your brush flying up, spattering your jawline.

You reach for a dry rag nearby, still grinning as you prepare to respond, but Colt stops you with a hand on your arm. “Allow me,” he says seriously, placing your hand back into your lap and raising his other hand to the side of your face. You freeze in place, unprepared for the wave of emotion that washes over you when Colt touches the side of your jaw softly.

His eyes are still sparkling with humor, and you know he’s about to do something to make you laugh, but you can’t help the feeling that sweeps through your heart when you’re face to face with him, one of his hands holding yours on your lap and the other just beginning to cradle your face. It feels so gentle, so intimate, so right, and your heart aches as you realize that there is no going back from the feelings you’re developing for Colt Seavers.

He hesitates for a split second, his hand hoving on your jaw for practically no time at all, but it feels like a lifetime to you. You watch his dark blue eyes as they dart down to look at your lips, flitting back up just as quickly to latch onto your eyes with a stare that could melt diamonds.

Then the corner of his mouth turns up again into his usual smirk, and he strokes his thumb across your jaw to smear the black paint up the side of your face.

“Now,” he offers, “don’t you think you look more realistic?”

He dissolves into laughter as you reach up and feel the streaks of black now smudged across your face. You immediately reach past him to dip your fingers in your bottle of red paint, giving him a mischievous grin as you slather three fingers’ worth of paint across his nose and cheeks. The combination of his semi-shocked expression and the ridiculousness of his painted face pushes you over the edge into another fit of laughter.

“You’re the one who will be on camera,” you retort, smiling wider than you can remember doing in a long time. “Shouldn’t you be the one who’s realistic?”

“Touché,” he acknowledges playfully, rubbing his face and only succeeded in smearing the red paint further across his face. “Though I doubt Tom Ryder is going to accept any glimpses of my face on camera, so I won’t even have to wash this off.”

You impulsively reach up and drag your fingertip through the splotch of paint on his cheek, resisting the urge to draw a heart and settling on a simple smiley face instead. His own smile resurfaces at that, eyes twinkling as they stay locked on yours.

“If you keep it until tomorrow, you’ll match my sign,” you muse, trying to lighten the atmosphere, which has suddenly grown a bit more intense now that Colt’s gaze is focused on you again.

He doesn’t look away, doesn’t play it off, doesn’t do anything that you expect from him. His breathing seems to slow down, while yours feels like it takes off in a flurry of movement. Colt doesn’t make a move to touch you, but you can feel the distance between the two of you closing infinitesimally.

You’ve never noticed the flecks of silver-gray in his eyes, or the almost-invisible smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, or the ragged cut of his hair right beside his ears. Even the brilliant red streak only serves to bring out the golden tones of his skin, the swirls of blonde in his hair. Every detail of his face seems vivid, as if you’re seeing him for the first time.

His eyes seem to drink you in, too, traveling over every inch of your face before stopping on your lips again. This time, though, he doesn’t flick his eyes back up. Words escape you, as do any coherent thoughts. This is it. He’s actually going to kiss me. This is real.

“Seavers, on set, ASAP.”

The squawk of his walkie-talkie shatters the intense moment, and both of you release a breath that felt like it had been held for an hour. Colt swallows, smoothes his hand over his beard, turns to slip the walkie back into his pocket. You turn back to your painted sign quickly, trying to regain some composure.

Uncharacteristically, Colt doesn’t speak as he stands and turns to walk back to the filming set. He does, however, glance back at you the moment you lift your eyes to watch him walk away. Your heart is still hammering, recovering from his closeness to you.

With a wordless smile, he reaches up, swipes a bit of red paint off his face, and presses it onto the tip of your nose in the shape of his fingerprint. Then he walks away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Part 2

[bruisedboys]

Shy!reader who's brain is running a million miles per hour and Sirius who notices and decides to pull her into a secret room for doting kisses and sweet compliments???

thank you for your request lovely! <333

sirius black x fem!reader

You don’t know how Sirius has managed to weasel you out of the thick of the party and into his friend’s bathroom, but here you are, alone with Sirius in Remus Lupin’s bathroom and trying not to act like this is exactly what you wanted.

“Sirius,” you say, breathless as you watch him close the door and then spin round to face you, grinning. “What are you doing?”

Sirius shrugs. “Just trying to get some alone time with my girl. Sue me.”

My girl. You try not to buckle at the knees. “Alone time? I thought you liked parties.”

“I only like whatever you like.”

You glare at him. He’s being awful on purpose. “Don’t you want to go hang out with your friends?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” Sirius says, moving towards you. You know he’s gonna grab you before he does, hands hot at your hips as he pulls you towards him. “I was watching you out there, you know. You looked like you weren’t having a good time.”

“Did I?” You ask, horrified. “Sirius, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You push at his chest as if that’s gonna do anything. He’s much stronger than you. In more ways than one. “I don’t want Remus to think I’m a priss.”

Sirius laughs. “Dove,” he says, chiding and amused. “He doesn’t think that. The only reason I noticed is ‘cos I know you so well.” He strokes your cheek with his thumb as if to say, yeah, I know you, and I love you all the same. “You’d’ve looked completely lovely to everyone else.”

“Ugh,” you say, as if you’re grossed out by his fondness rather than totally enthralled. Your burning cheeks say otherwise.

“Ugh,” Sirius copies agreeably. “You’re okay, though? We can leave if you need, babe. I swear I don’t mind.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his sentence. “No, I’m okay. We can stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you having an awful time.”

“I’m not,” you say honestly. You were overwhelmed earlier but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have handled it for Sirius’ sake. He’s handled a lot worse for your sake.

Sirius raises his eyebrows, looking incredibly handsome. “Promise?”

You smile at him. “Promise.”

Sirius smiles back, all pearly white teeth and dusty pink lips. You’re not surprised when he ducks in to kiss you. You let him because you like him a lot and you could really use a kiss right now. He’s right of course, you had been having a hard time out in the living room. You’d just been beginning to spiral when Sirius had appeared out of nowhere and whisked you away like he could read your mind. Now, he kisses you with all the care of someone who knows you like the back of his hand, and all the electricity of a boy in love.

He backs you up against the sink, hands firm at your hips, kissing and kissing, but pulls back just when you think he’s about to really get carried away. You’re grateful because you’d hate to be discovered like this by one of his friends and you think he knows that.

“I love you,” he says, ducking in for another quick kiss that’s brief but sweet enough to leave you reeling. “Promise you’ll let me know if you want to get out of here, yeah?”

“Okay,” you nod, frazzled by his kissing and his sweetness.

Sirius smiles a dizzying smile and chucks you under the chin. “C’mon, lovely girl,” he takes your hand and tugs you towards the door. “Wanna help me win poker?”

He knows you’re no good at card games — he just wants you in his lap as his so-called lucky charm. Lucky for him, you can’t think of anything else you’d rather do.

[peachyloveswriting]

What would Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives do about sick reader? Like reader knew they had been getting sick for a few days but saying stuff like "I sneezed from the dusty sand" or "I choked on my spit. I wasn't coughing. " they keep coming up with stuff to say till they have a fever and collapse.

YES. MORE FOR KNIVES. I actually really enjoy writing for knives. He's such a complicated character to get right because he hates humans and more often than not the reader is portrayed as human. His feelings are so contradictory but I love it.

You're Only Human (After all)

SUMMARY: Vash, Wolfwood, and Naï, find out that you've been hiding a sickness from them. The outcome feels like a nightmare come true.

NOTES: Vash and knives parts are very long. There's a shit ton of angst but there's also hurt/comfort. I'd say it took me 16 hrs total from start to finish and that's partially because a huge part of Kives original part got deleted and yeah... I couldn't remember some of it. Enjoy tho lol.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

Vash

Setting up camp for the night was no easy task, getting up to gather what everyone needs to sleep comfortably while helping Meryl set up her own tent. Yours always comes last and before you can even finish Roberto is asking you to help him cook. You never stop working and seize every opportunity to stay on your feet, the restlessness that comes with stagnancy kills you. Through constantly throwing yourself into work is painful and tiring, it's been even more so than usual.

"Hey kid. Come and help with this roast."

You ignore Roberto's request, too tired to even think straight much less give a coherent thought, only curling further into the backseat of the truck. In the back of your throat has settled an itch, one that's not quite there but prominent enough to make you force down a cough. It bubbles up suddenly, making you gasp for air in-between coughs. Your throat burns in pain and tenses as it stops.

Soft foot steps pad up to the open door. Meryl peeks in at you with worry before she fixes herself right. "Uh... Sorry if I'm bothering you but could you help me with my tent again?" She clasps her hands together, eagerly waiting for your answer.

Nick watches from the outside of his own tent, gazing at your still form while his hands blindly settle the cross firmly into the sand. He doesn't decide to speak until Meryl extends a hand to tap you. "I'll do it." He offers.

Meryl turns to look at him with a disgruntled smile. "Thanks?" He scoffs. "Yup. Don't mention it. And close the door while you're at it."

Meryl looks at your limp form, not wanting to close any limbs in the door she checks just to be sure before she carefully closes the door. Just before walking away she takes one last peek inside to see if she disturbed you but you haven't moved an inch. Taking a deep breath she turns to stand beside Nick while he puts her tent together.

The night carried on and with it came Vash. To everyone else the night went on as usual but to Vash, a part of him was missing. When he looked for your tent he was sad to find that it hadn't been set up at all. This only worried the blonde further. His stomach would churn with unease the further he looked around. There was no sign on you anywhere. Just as he was about to peek around the truck, a soft finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to find Meryl gazing up at him.

"If you're looking for them..." She points to the truck. "They've been there all evening."

Hia gaze follows her pointed finger to the backseat of the truck. Offering her thanks, he rushes over to the truck and pulls open the door. You lay curled up on the farthest side away from him, your face hidden and tucked away in your arms. Face softening, Vash climbs into the empty space by your feel and closes the door behind him, ensuring privacy.

"Mayfly?" He leans over curiously, his hand slipping under your chin to lift your face into view. You grimace, your head swimming in agony and dizziness. "Are you okay?" His cries crease in concern.

Lazily, you lift a hand to swat him away. Setting your head back on your arms he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead. "You feel hot. Maybe you should get out of the car. Get some fresh air." His hand brushes over your head in a soothing manner.

"I'm fine." He smiles at your half-hearted grumble.

"If you say so..." Swiftly grabbing your shoulder, Vash scoops you up into his arms with ease and scoots to press his back to the door. He spreads his legs and leans back just enough for you to lay comfortably on his chest. You're just lethargic enough that you flop against him, no resistance whatsoever.

He stayed with you until the morning, upset when he kept waking up to you practicing choking in your sleep. Every time he raises a hand to your forehead it burns his skin. You were certainly running a fever of some kind or at the very least sick, he's never seen you so lethargic before. You've always stayed on your feet, working yourself to the brink, till' your legs won't carry you anymore. This might just be one of those spells but you never left the truck. Even when he got out to help everyone pack up you didn't move.

When everyone gathered inside the truck, you didn't move, allowing yourself to get shoved around to make room for Wolfwood and Vash. As Vash climbed in, he scowled at the priest who shoved you about as if you were some object he could just discard. Gently scooping you far enough to slide in. he laid you back down in his lap and held you close, allowing you to get some rather comfortable rest. Hours later, you woke up in a daze. The heat consuming you from head to toe is unbearable, breathing comes harshly.

You can see legs moving through the sand below you as you wake up but very quickly realize they're not yours. You begin to feel hands under each of your knees and your body pressed against another. Below you, Vash's coat flaps into view, the edges of it tugging about with each step.

You groan, dizzy from the heat and disoriented. Your head is reeling about, begging to go back to sleep and crying at the same time. Every part of you aches and your throat feels like it's been grated like fine cheese.

"You're awake!" Vash turns his head to look at you nuzzled into his shoulder. Swallowing harshly, you lift your head to glance at him. "Where are we?"

You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding like a decrepit frog that smokes cigarettes. It feels like you haven't drank in forever and your stomach rumbles angrily. Suddenly Vash jumps to keep you up on his back, you whine at the sudden jolt and dig your hands into the chest of his shirt. He grimaces at your painful response.

"You okay?" Forcing yourself to right yourself, you begin to wriggle in his hold. "M' fine. Put me down."

Vash's brows creased with worry. "Are you sure? You've-"

Pushing from his hold you fall into the scorching sands. Hissing in pain, you jump to your feet jostling your brain into a wave of vertigo. Your hand shoots out to find purchase while your vision grows dark. Tingles flood your body as a low dull pain pulses in your head. Two arms scoop you up into security, keeping you from falling back into the hot sands. "Whoa!"

Vash steadies you as you lean against him limply for help. "Slow down. You're not well." His hands move to your shoulders. A long drawn out couch slips from your lips. You shake away from his hole to walk towards the group, they're way ahead of you occasionally glancing back to stop and wait. "I'm fine."

You trudge forward at your own discretion and Vash follows closely behind. "Let me carry you Mayfly." A hand comes to rest at the small of your back. Beneath you, your legs shake horribly, threatening to lose your balance. It's hard just to push forward in the sand without wincing from the sore ache that settles into your bones. "I'll be fine, Vash."

The desert becomes distant, a cold covering your whole body like ice. "I'm..." The sky began to darken, blotting out the light from the suns and the sand beneath you.

"oh!" Slipping forward, Vash stretches an arm over your chest to stop your falling body from collapsing in the sand. The over exertion is obvious and your body makes it hard to deny. Vash can see it clearly, the bleary look in your eyes as he scoops your bridal style in his arms. Gazing down at you with an unreadable expression, he shakes his head. "How long has this been going on?"

You roll your head into his chest, shielding your eyes from the suns. Breathing in to speak you choke out a cough, you can hardly catch a breath in-between. When you finish, your head falls back softly. "A few weeks ago." You mumble weakly.

A frown settles upon his lips as he looks ahead at the horizon, the glare on his shades stops you from seeing his eyes. Those are always a dead give away for how he's feeling. Those shades work wonders for him.

Taking a shaky breath, you relax in Vash's arms. "Don't worry. I'll take you to a doctor. You should rest until then."

You shake your head. "Won't you get tired of carrying me?"

He looks back down at you smiling softly. The smile reaches up to his eyes, softening his gaze and wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "I will. It's okay, I'm supposed to take care of you Mayfly. Just rest." His voice is so soft he's almost whispering. It makes a heat swirl in your chest as you close your eyes.

"I'm sorry Vash."

He chuckles. "It's alright my love."

Wolfwood

Sweat beads along your forehead as you follow the giant wandering cross in front of you. Your wavering pace slows you down even more the longer you push forward. It's so far away now. When was the last time you even had water? God, you can't remember. Trudging through the sands makes the ache in your already sore leg grow worse, you can barely lift your feet from the ground.

Breathing is a labor, it burns your lungs with each breath you take, the longer you go without calling for Nick's help the more dire this starts to become. The dull ache in your head is pounding with the intensity of the suns and your body grows weaker. You regret lying to Nick before he ran out of gas, you knew them you should have said something but the situation was bad enough. You thought saying something then would only cause more worry to settle in Nick's mind and you didn't want to burden him.

Suddenly, searing hot pain blossoms on your exposed skin and sand hugs your body as it lands. Your mind is foggy and blank, you watch Nick grow smaller in the distance not even bothering to look back at you. You rasp his name but your throat doesn't allow you to call any louder than a simple talking tone. After traveling with Nick everywhere, you never thought it would end like this, laying in the sand pathetically sick because of your irrational fear and Inability to ask for help.

Suddenly, in the distance. The space between you and Nick closes in. He runs towards you, tossing the cross all about on his back. Distantly you can hear him call your name for the first time ever, he's only ever called you by silly nicknames. You don't give much care to mutter a response and sink into the sand.

Panic squeezes in Nick's chest and he drops his cross beside him to tend to you. Grabbing your shoulders he turns you over and sits you up in his lap. "C'mon. Don't fall asleep." He begs.

You cough up a laugh. The concern in his face grows even more severe with your seeming obliviousness to the situation. "I'm fine..." You want to shrug him off so bad but even moving feels like hell.

Heart pounding in his chest, Nick swallows harshly "You haven't been fine since we got stranded, have you?" The back of his hand feels freezing as he presses it to your forehead. You grimace with discomfort and whine. "I'm not stupid." Carefully, he stands with you in his arms.

As he turns to walk away you spot his cross on the ground. "Your cross..." Nick acknowledges it with a hum. His face is stern, pointedly staring straight again with his lips pressed into a thin line. "I'll get it back later. You need medical attention first."

You smile. "So you're saying you care?"

His grip on you begins to tighten. *Of course I do! Don't fucking scare me like that again." He growls.

"Sure." Sleep tugs your eyes closed, pulling at your weight the less conscious you become. Nick glares down at you, squeezing you tighter against him. He feels your body grow limp in his arms, heart dropping to his stomach.

"What did I say? Don't fall asleep." You're jostled awake with a groan. "Just let me sleep. Please."

"And if you don't wake up again?" He's become eerily nonchalant. "What then?" The edge in his voice shakes with worry, tracing the thoughts of what might unfold after your death. His chest aches at the thought of losing you and he won't say it but he's scared of losing you. "It'll kill me..."

Nick will never admit it but you do more for him then he lets on. Your company alone could last him a lifetime, your smile, it could make him happy forever. Everything about you fixes everything bad about him and he's not ready to give that up. Especially not over some silly illness. Hearing his words and understanding what he means, you coo quietly and rest your hand over his heart. Your touch quells his fraying nerves.

"I drag you down Nico." Your heart weighs heavy in your chest. "It might be better if you leave me behind."

Stomach clenching wearily, Nick grunts. "No." Venoms laces his tongue. "You idiot. I love you too much to do that." You gaze at him in surprise. "Don't look at me like that. I said what I said. You should just be quiet and conserve your energy."

Hesitant, you gaze at him for a few moments longer before letting your head rest carefully against his chest. "I'll get you help. Just hang in there."

Millions Knives

Sitting beside Naï, he plays the piano. Quietly, you watch his fingers dance over the keys as they belt out a dramatic yet familiar melody. It strikes the soul as misunderstood, you know it well. Many times has Naï played this song in your presence. You've heard everything he plays, as his words command you stay by his side under his watchful eye. Many of his followers take this as a sign of mistrust, a show that the human race will never take his attention. Naï has said to you before: "Hear me and believe my word. My trust in you is not misguided, I only wish to protect you from those who wish to harm you."

Despite hating humans, Naï knows his fair share about the ways they operate. He understands the delicacy of your body and handles it with immense measure and meticulous care. He keeps you near to prevent his followers from making a move to take your life. For him, he even strives to understand more about you, to protect you. His care for you and your well-being runs deep, although Naï doesn't quite understand why it's you he's so careful about, he understands that you make him feel something.

Naï, even in his own strange way, shows that he cares for you. He appreciates the company you keep him and he's not foreign with thanking you. Just the same your appreciation runs deep, he offers you friendship, safety, food, and a place to lay your head at night. Above all else, his friendship and company you find the most rewarding, to know so much about him is to see under his facade. Knowing that underneath all of those sharp blades, a gentle, and caring man resides. Only sparing himself to his closet confidants.

Beautifully, the keys fade into an epilogue, an ending to the story it once opened with. You find that as you watch with a smile your lungs begin to burn. A cough tries to bubble its way past your lips, it takes your breath away and chokes you on the way out. Turning away to cover your mouth, you find it hard to catch your breath and tears blur your vision. The melody that had once carried through the room now falls silent in the stead of your sputtering.

Worry tingles in Naï's chest as you gasp for air beside him, he's unsure of what to do or what this is. His knowledge might be expansive but he still has so much to learn, about sickness, potential threats, the many causes of death. His lack of awareness makes his heart quell with concern and his mind reel is fear.

"Are you alright?" His voice carries through the harmonious room. Tentatively his hand hovers over your back.

You wipe the tears from your eyes to see his angelic face clearly. "It's okay Naï, just choked on my spit."

Cautiously, he looks you over with care checking for abnormalities along your external appearance. Your eyes are dark and lightly sunken, despite noticing this fast Naï goes along with your word and nods in earnest. You feel scrutinized under his gaze, like he's judging every part of you without ever saying a word.

"Choked?" He queries. "Is this choking, dangerous?" His brows crease with worry.

"Well..." Recalling gasping for air, the onslaught of coughing as it keeps you from breathing in deep enough to catch your breath makes you choose your next words with ease. "Yes. It can be, depending on the circumstances. But it can also be prevented"

Intensely focused, Naï nods. "How can this be prevented?" His absolute attention is always divulged onto you anytime you talk, it's endearing, the way he listens to every detail. Nothing you've said has ever been forgotten by him, he remembers everything, making it a point to bring it up when useful later on. It tells you that he cares about what you have to say, knowing that makes your heart soar.

"Drinking a glass of water, or anything of likeness, then there's the heimlich. You should ask Con'rad about that if you want to understand it." Although many of the things that Naï knows about humans have been acquired through you, there are many things you can't find the energy to explain. Best someone else with more knowledge explains it to avoid any confusion.

"I'll go visit him then." Naï stands. "Come. I'll escort you to the room." Gently, you hold his outstretched hand, letting it guide you to your feet. He holds it gingerly as he pulls you alongside him. His hand is soft and warm, inhumanely so, you find comfort in his warmth.

The more time chugs along the more you begin to realize you've fallen I'll, coughing spells out of nowhere, extreme fatigue, loss of appetite. The coughing grows worse with intensity, burning your sore throat, your body wastes energy faster, and waking up in the morning becomes a difficult task. For longer times you would lay in bed seeking the comfort of your companion, Naï, despite hiding your growing illness from him. He's buying into what you told him, though it won't last for very long. If he's really that worried he'll seek the knowledge of Con'rad once again.

He knows your habits even down to the smallest details, including your sleep schedule. Though sleep is the only time he lets you spend alone, that's only in his room, the only ones allowed inside are you and him. As far as his knowledge goes, since you last went in about a day ago, no one has bothered to enter. Not even Naï himself would go to see you. He figured you only needed a little alone time before you might come out again to grace him with your company. The time rolled around for you to come out but the door never opened, Naï waited in anticipation, trying to stace off the minutes to spare you time.

The paranoia got to him before you could.

The whole time you've been inside he's only let the door out of his sight once, for only a short amount of time. Very few people would dare enter knowing what punishment would await them if he ever found out but just the thought of someone going in and hurting you... It makes his blood boil. He paces just outside with worry and frustration beginning to build just beneath the surface. He has to know you're okay, he has to hear you speak... No. No, he needs something more... He has to see you physically. Otherwise, he might just lose his mind wondering what awaits him inside.

Eager to finally see your face again, to hear your voice and feel your touch, he pushes the door open. Eyes scouring the darkness for your form he finally spots you laying still beneath the covers of his bed, you make no sound as the door closes and you stay still even as he says your name. In his chest, his heart begins to pound wildly, sending the rest of his body into a frenzy of feelings.

He rushes to the bedside, a singular blade extending to turn the lights on. The darkness cowers away at the flick of a switch and your form is revealed amongst his mattress. Almost stripped bare of your clothes you lay unmoving, almost as if the life from inside you has been drained. Chest straining, Naï climbs over top of your body lowering his head to your chest, your skin feels cold against his ear as he listens for a heartbeat.

Just underneath your delicate skin beats the rhythm of your life, it beats on even as you lay utterly still. Naï can feel his shoulders relax, the sound of your heart telling him that you're indeed still alive, but as he pulls away to further examine you he knows something's not quite right. it makes his stomach churn with unease. Your skin tone seems off, like something's not quite the same as it was before.

As softly as he can, Naï shakes your body. After the first movement he expects you to come to life with a groan but you don't move. If your heart is still beating, why won't you wake up?

"My flower, wake up. You've slept long enough. I need your company by my side." He shakes you harder this time. "Petal, wake up. I demand it." He tries to sound like he normally does when addressing everyone else but he can't seem to find it in himself to truly yell at you, to demand something of you. Especially not when you're stripped of your freedom at this moment.

Naï's throat tightens, his brows creasing with worry and fear. He's so confused, you usually wake up when he calls for you but now he's got nothing. It scares him, knowing just how fragile you really are, it aside now that he rushes you to Con'rad.

Before he parts to the lab, he envelopes your exposed body in his cloak and carries you in his arms. Nothing like this takes more than the blink of an eye, Con'rad barely even has time to process his master's sudden appearance. Everything is thrust at him at once, the fear and confusion that riddles Naï's face when he presents you to Con'rad, how he begs for him to find out what's wrong, to fix you.

Con'rad frowns at your unconscious body as he takes you from his master's arms. "Careful! Don't hurt them." Naï warns.

Con'rad can only cast him a glance before he sets you down on a table, he collects his supplies needed to check you over and watches as Naï retracts the cloak that is wrapped so tightly around your body.

To plants, a decade is only supposed to feel like a day. So why did Naï feel like it had already been years when it was only minutes. He stared at you intently, waiting for you to wake up, willing you to do something. But you didn't move at all. Naï was anxious from tip to bottom, so to quell his nerves Con'rad began explaining things to him.

"Like we discussed, humans are susceptible to many things, illness being one of them. Should a person go an extended amount of time without medication or medical attention, it can cause death. This happens to be the case with your friend. You're lucky you found them when you did Knives. I can still run this IV to get the right fluids in check. After, you can take them back to your room, the IV has to stay in until it's empty though." He eyes the bleach blond from the corner of his eyes as he tapes the IV to your arm. "Again. You're lucky. They should recover soon. But they'll need plenty of rest."

Naï steps away from the wall he had leaned on, the blades slither out from behind his back and circle you carefully until they meld into his cloak once more. Content, he carefully picks you from the table with ease, using another metal appendage to grasp the IV bag.

"Thank you." Naï bows his head to Con'rad in thanks. Before he can reply Naï is gone again just as fast as he appeared.

Returning back to the privacy of his room, Naï gently sets you at the edge of the bed where he could rest the IV bag beside you. Leaving you swaddled in his cloak, Naï climbs up the bed behind you. For a moment he's hesitant to touch you, like it's the wrong thing to do but he pushes forward. Softly laying an arm over your waist, he pulls you flush against him, his face tucked into the back of your neck. He would lay here until you woke, until then, Naï would relish in the feeling of your body against his and find comfort in your presence by his side.

He might lecture you when you wake up, or inspect you thoroughly for any other sickness, but he also might enjoy your waking company for a moment before he does anything else.

[yourfatherlucifer]

Sticky Situation (HJ)

Ghoul!Hongjoong x afab!reader

Summary: after receiving a dare from your friends, you went into the ‘haunted’ mansion as everyone says, but is it really haunted though? Something is watching you..

Warnings: NSFW MDNI, messy intercourse, slight stalking, dumbification, slime/goo play, ghost stuff, mention of death, aphrodisiac cum, rough sex.

Genre: Smut

AU: Paranormal

WC: 1.6k

Rated: R

Tags: @stardragongalaxy here is your secret admirer request!

Also there will be no part two cause I struggled lol

“Come on, you guys really cannot believe it’s haunted! Ghosts don’t exist!”

Your friends had rolled their eyes at you, “You don’t have to believe us, which is why we are daring you to go inside.”

You had stood in front of a large lavish yet run down mansion, it looked like it was straight from the 1700's, but it was still beautiful. It didn't exactly look quite abandoned but also looked like no one lived there. Maybe someone kept maintenance of it.

Approaching the vast doors, they creaked open with just a soft touch, “Hello?” You called out, like an idiot. Have you not learned from the horror films?

The place was beautiful on the inside, but was clearly abandoned, yet in pristine shape. Who was keeping it so mummified?

There was a grand staircase that winded up to the second floor, which was lined with old renaissance paintings, covered in yellow varnish.

A lot of furniture was covered with white cloth, which you assumed was to protect them from the dust already accumulating.

Dead eyes appeared in the darkness, watching you from afar yet you hadn’t noticed.

The air was musty and smelly, smelled of slight death and blood.

You made your way through double doors and found an almost pristine kitchen with antique appliances, the fridge, the stove, etc. All early eras.

Slipping out of the kitchen into the next room, you found a secret staircase, it seemed like it led to the basement, but as you descended down the steps, the stench of death kept heavily increasing. So, you quickly ran back up the stairs and slammed the door shut, covering your mouth as you tried not gag.

The eyes that watched your every move, quietly chuckled. An evil like smirk forming on its face.

Did you walk into a serial killer's hideout? Why did it smell like pure death? You wanted to leave so badly but your friends made a bet you wouldn’t last long, through the night even so.

You covered your mouth and left the area with teary eyes. You made your way upstairs to the second floor, the winding steps making you dizzy.

You could only open doors that were unlocked and there weren’t many. It was as if someone was trying to prevent you from exploring. You found the master bedroom, or what seemed to be the master bedroom. It was very large. The bed looked very dusty and unused. Looks like this is the room you’ll be staying in tonight, you thought to yourself.

Making your way to the bed, the floor creaked beneath you. You winced with every step and hoped this home was truly empty and was just an old place with dead bodies.

When you sat on the bed, you noticed some type of slime was excreting from it. You shot up from the mattress and began frantically wiping your pants, clearly grossed out.

“What the fuck!” You gagged, hands now covered in the slime.

You couldn’t even begin to think of where it came from, let alone excrete from an old bed.

As you went to leave the room, the door slammed shut in front of you. You let out a loud scream and fell to the floor, slightly bruising your tailbone from the fall.

“Where’d you think you’re going, pet?” A voice mocked you in the darkness.

You gasped in fear as you stood up to your feet, running to the door. Pulling on the handle that just wouldn’t budge. You cried out in frustration as you began to feel trapped and feared for your life.

“Awe, you think you can leave, oh-precious-life?” The voice began to stalk towards you.

You whipped around to face a man, or what looked like a man, his deathly pale skin, wide brimmed hat and a long black coat approached you with a scary grin.

“Get away from me!” You backed into the door.

“That’s very cute. You aren’t going anywhere.”

As he came closer, you could inspect his features, which you came to realize he is very attractive, but still scared you to the very bone.

His black tipped fingers came to brush against your cheek, goo oozing from the tips.

His chest pressed closer against yours, the hat brim stopping him from pushing even closer, “You smell delicious.” His tongue swiped across his lips, “I love the scent of fear.”

You whimpered as he threw the hat across the room. His nose falling to your neck crevice, inhaling your scent. The close proximity of this attractive..man, was arousing you greatly.

He let out a loud cackle, “Ooh, never have I had a human get aroused just by this!”

You gripped onto his coat as he began licking strips along your skin, taking in the flavor of human flesh.

He chuckled once again at your desperation, “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you, human?”

Hongjoong pressed his hardening bulge against your thigh.

‘What are you doing?” You whined as his hands began to roam your body.

“I’m going to fuck you, is that not what you want?” He whispered into your ear, nipping on the lobe.

His hands began to roam your body, “I can clearly smell how much you want this.”

His two hands came up to your shirt, grabbing the middle and ripping it in half. The pieces hang there from your shoulders. You yelp in protest, heat flooding throughout your body.

“You’re never gonna want another human cock after this.” An evil like cackle spilled from his lips with a toothy and mischievous

grin.

His teeth pierce the skin between your neck and shoulder, not drawing blood but practically attaching himself to you with a mark.

He grabs you from under the thighs and hikes you against the wall, tearing your feet from the floor, to wrap around his waist. His hardened cock now pressed against your clothes and wet cunt.

Hongjoong giggled in your ear, “You know, I haven’t fucked a human in so long, not since I died,” He pulls his face away and takes one boob in his hand, the black slime on his fingers left behind a slimey trail down your breast valley. His claw-like fingernails jabbed into the plush skin, drawing blood and pain. He didn’t care for your cries because he knew you wanted this just as much as him.

He brought his pale lips to yours, smashing them together. He then carries you to the unused bed, practically throwing you on the mattress. He uses his hands to rip open your pants, tossing the now ruined fabric across the room.

You quickly scrambled to the headboard, clearly embarrassed you were in your underwear in front of him.

A crazy grin spread against his cheeks as he grabbed your ankles, yanking you down the mattress and back to him, “Why do you continue to try and run from me?” his hand ran down your waist, to your thighs, then back up to your underwear, snapping the band against your hips.

Hongjoong buries his face against your clothed cunt, taking in the scent of your arousal, “Fuck, smells so good.”

You whine as he pulls down the cloth, tossing it over his shoulder. His long and pointed tongue darts out to lick the slick that leaked out of your hole. He throws your legs over his shoulders and pressed his nose against your clit. His tongue playing and teasing the tight hole, he wanted to prepare it for what he referred to as his, ‘monster sized cock,’ when he wasn’t wrong. He is a monster and his cock is huge.

“Gonna fuck you so good.” He mumbled into your cunt as his tongue swirled around your walls, his fingers digging into the back of your thighs. Then slipped his free hand underneath, and slipped a finger in just below his wet muscle.

When he was done playing with you, he removed himself from you and let your legs down.

“Ready for my cock, pretty one?”

You whimpered with a nod, spreading your legs to reveal your puffy and used cunt, “Please, I want your cock so bad.”

He laughed and took the base of his cock and lined himself up, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration as he pushed in, “Little human is so pathetic for me. How cute.”

The second his cock reached the hilt, you already felt fucked dumb. He was just that big, his cock so thick and long in size. The best you’ve had.

“Gonna cry?” He grunts as thrusts his hips up, “Gonna cry like a little baby? Can’t handle my cock?” He rests his arms by your head, “Well too bad, you’re gonna take it, you’re gonna love it and you’re gonna beg me for more.”

He sat back on his knees, thrusting into your cunt, while his hands excreted ectoplasm onto your body, the stick feeling was heavy and gross but you couldn’t focus on that. Not while his cock jackhammered into you, barely putting any effort into it yet he had you seeing stars.

He flipped your body around, so that your head could be pushed into the dusty mattress. He raised your hips up, but also rested a hand on your lower back.

You let out a scream as this angle let him reach you even deeper than before, his cock seemed to stretch you out even more if that was possible.

“I’m gonna cum so fucking deep in you, you’ll never want to leave me here. You’ll be mine forever.” His hand gripped your hip so tight, that his nails drew blood and left behind bruises.

“Please, inside, please!” The mattress mumbled your words but he understood you clearly.

He leans down to your ear, “Gladly.”

His black cum spurt out in all directions inside of you. It definitely didn’t feel normal but it heated you up and felt like you needed more. You wanted more, “Oh fuck, I need more. Fuck me more. Please.” You whined and looked back at him.

“That’s so funny, I told you that you’d beg for more, pretty one.”

[quicksilverdaisyday]

dusty also has the hots for todd

[instant-delusions]

hii omg may i request xavier smut where he comes home from a hunter mission and catches reader humping his pillow while wearing his hoodie? and it ends with him making reader ride his thigh/dick (or both! i can take him 🤗)

OOOOHHHH MY GOOOD! I LOVE THIS ONE SM 💗💗 I haven't proofread this much cuz it's exam season for me 😭

ɢᴏᴏᴅ ɢɪʀʟ ɢᴏɴᴇ ʙᴀᴅ!

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

xavier x afab! reader

cw: thigh riding, pillow humping, cursing

you were trashing in xavier's comfy bed, checking your phone every ten seconds to see if your boyfriend finally messaged you. though, unfortunately - nothing. pressing your power button to shut your phone, you see your pouting reflection.

obviously, you knew you were being melodramatic, xavier was off on a mission, and it is hardly realistic that he'll put up his hand, saying something like "hold on, wanderer. my gf texted me." it was impossible to deny you were craving his attention astronomically, though - seriously, look at you. you were in one of his white hoodies, breathing in his fragrance and cuddling his pillows with furrowed brows. it was almost pathetic.

groaning, you opened the messenger.

₊ ⊹

y/n: xavier when r u gonna be back??

₊ ⊹

nothing once again. sighing, you closed your eyes and laid back, his scent becoming more intense with every second of his absence. it reminded you of the times he leaned down to whisper things in your ear or when he nuzzled into your nape, like a golden retriever. breathing in deeply, your lungs filled with his green tea laundry detergent. you can't get enough of him, missing the feel of his weight against you, his lips on your skin, his voice, his hands, him, him, him - even if it's just hours he's gone.

it's almost surprising how quickly your neediness melted your brain, your warm body almost uncomfortable on the bed. figments of memories filled your mind, xavier in his hunter uniform, focused look and swinging his sword - confident in his strength. xavier carrying you to your apartment after one too many tequila shots. xavier kissing your shoulder with his hand on your naked waist. xavier squeezed between your legs, pupils blown wide with lust, his pale skin with a peachy blush. whining, you squeezed your legs together, feeling a familiar pang of pleasure in your lower stomach.

god, you feel dizzy with want, the line between appropriateness and shamefulness blurred. turning around, you got on your knees and grabbed the headboard with a hand and one of his starprint pillows to bring in between your legs. quickly, you got rid of your 'shorts' (one of xavier's boxers).

testing the waters, you roll your hips slowly, feeling how the pillow softly stimulated your clit. a soft gasp escaped your lips, thinking about how xavier has his head on this every day, sleeping innocently. another whine fills the room, and you bite down on your lip, smearing your pussy sloppily on the fabric. "fuck", you drag yourself up and down with a harsh arch of your hips, feeling the knot in your tummy tightening - the imagination of xavier beneath you painting your thoughts. a soft 'ping' comes from your phone, but you didn't hear it at all.

₊ ⊹

xav♡: almost there

xav♡: sry for not txting

₊ ⊹

you slowed your hips a little to drag out the pleasure, soaking the light blue pillow in your creamy liquid. humming a low "mmh" at the intense feeling, you barely even made out the clinking of keys, or the steps.

xavier just got into the apartment - noticing your shoes at the entrance, he smiled to himself, excited to see you. the mission was insanely exhausting, and he couldn't wait to feel you ease his mind. lazily, he took off his dusty, slightly blood-stained uniform and threw it somewhere on the ground, stepping through his apartment in boxers. suddenly, his ears quirked up, hearing whining from his bedroom. confused, he raised an eyebrow and quickly made his way over, opening the door without a second thought.

the sight he was greeted with got his jaw slacked - you in his hoodie, his pillow between your thighs and your beautiful face contorted in pleasure. for a few seconds, he just stood there with the doorknob still in his hand, drinking in the way your hips moved and then stilled with realization, you looked back at him with your mouth open.

"xavier?!" you exclaimed, face red and eyes wide with shock. said man got over his initial confusion quickly, his body tensing with the need to please you - it's like what he was born to do. with a few strides, he crawls onto the bed, grabbing the pillow and throwing it onto the floor. "Sorry, you seem to have missed me a lot. I'm here now, I'll make it up to you."

Your eyes fixed on him. You were barely able to comprehend what was happening, everything went by so fast. "Xav...?" he grabbed you by the waist, guiding you onto his naked thigh. Feeling his muscles flex under your soaked, panty-clad pussy had you moaning out, pathetically grabbing his arms in an attempt to ground yourself. "There you go. I'll take care of you." The hunter guided your hips up and down his thigh, feeling every crevice and bump of your cunt through your underwear. "What..." You started, eyes rolling back in pleasure. "What bout you?" you babbled on. "Don't worry." eyeing his growing bulge, seeing his cock needily strain against his boxers, you questioned his response. Though you definitely were not in enough control of your mind to do anything about it, but weakly grind against his thigh. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Xavier looks at you, thinking about how nothing is hotter than your face right now, mouth open, eyes scrunched in pleasure, your blush. Everything because of him, everything for him - with a smile, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand tightening on your waist. "That's it, cum for me, baby." he almost pleaded, leaning in closer to hover his lips over yours.

Instinctively, you caught them, kissing him feverishly while grinding on his thigh harder. With a few more chopped strokes of your hips, you started shaking with your orgasm, feeling like your soul fell down from the cosmos, right back into Xavier's bedroom. He pressed his lips to yours once more, smiling cutely at you. "Better?" he asks, rubbing circles on your back comfortingly. Weakly, you nod, letting your head fall onto his chest, your arms snaking around his middle.

"I missed you. Let's cuddle."

[moonlightazriel]

When no one hears your calls /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: When the unbearable feelings of her mate start to mess with her life, Y/N decides to put an ending to their misery.

Warnings: Torture and abuse, Beron being the bastard he is.

Word Count: 3K

Notes: Yeah, i missed writing for my baby Eris. And I'm warning in advance that reader is Azriel's sister and he's mated to Gwyn in this, so please, if you don't stan Gwynriel, scroll past it.

Main Masterlist

She weeped, the feelings flooding her chest too overwhelming to keep controlled. It started with small waves of anxiety, increasing to pure agony, pain erupted through her chest. She tried to keep the tears from spilling, but now she sobbed, broken pleas for it to stop leaving from her parted chapped lips. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, let me make it stop.” Azriel begged his sister. Holding her broken frame in between his arms.

“It hurts so much Az, it’s not fair.” She managed to speak in between the sobs that got more hysterical. The shadowsinger just held her tighter, seeing her in such distress broke him, she has always been his greatest weakness. 

“Here, take this.” Gwyn offered, her warm hands holding a mug towards the female. “It will help you sleep.” Azriel nodded to his mate, taking the mug from his hands and bringing it to his sister’s lips. He forced the content down her throat, watching as the tea slowly worked, her body relaxed and the tears stopped and she fell asleep against him.

“Thank you.” He said, and Gwyn squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring grip. Azriel grabbed Y/N, taking her to the guest bedroom that Gwyn had set for her, placing her sleeping form carefully on the bed. The red headed female grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the living room again.

“I don’t understand.” He breathed. “She has had these episodes since the High Lord’s meeting, it doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Maybe she’s sick?” Gwyn suggested and Azriel shrugged. 

“I took her to Madja, and she’s been as healthy as ever. There’s nothing wrong with her besides that.” He looked towards the room, to the shadows guarding his sister as she finally rested. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll find a solution Az, I know that.” Gwyn smiled at him, and he pulled the female for a hug. 

“I pray to the Mother that you’re right.” She kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her love soothe his heart. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Whenever an episode approached, it always had small signs indicating it, the uncomfortable feeling in her chest, the rapid breathing and the dizziness like someone hit her in the head with full strength.

She hated that she worried her family so much, but not every time she was able to control how her body would react to it. It angered her how they would look at her with such pained expressions, how much Azriel wanted to help and she didn’t even knew how to ask for his help. 

So everyday, Gwyn would take her to the library and she would search the cause of her troubles, her nose glued to the pages for hours until her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She never felt such agony, only when her half brothers and her father ripped her wings from her back, making a small cut and pulling it until the skin gave up and she blacked out due to the blood loss. 

It was Azriel shadows who helped them, sneaking supplies to their cell until they could get rid of the infection that almost killed her and healed his hands. She was glad for them and her brother, they saved her. She always tried to be as less of a burden as possible to not worry Azriel, but now she knew he was distressed about her situation, so she wanted to fix it, for her and for him. 

Shadows gathered in a corner caught her attention, she got up, despite not being able to hear them, they always tended to her and her needs. As she approached the shelf, the shadows disappeared, leaving only a copy of an old dusty book behind. She pulled the book out, blowing the dust off, sneezing a bit in the process. Allergic just like Cassian. 

She plopped herself in her seat again, scanning the book cover, no name, no nothing, this sparked her curiosity. She opened the book, in a fancy handwriter she could read “MATING BONDS: The complete guide for the matters of the heart.” She smiled at the title. 

Just like her brother, she was sometimes too shy to ask about things. Besides having her past lovers, mating bonds are something she was never that curious about. So she sat there, reading the whole thing with attention. If the shadows thought this book would help, she was sure it would. 

“Sometimes, strong feelings can leak through a one sided bond. And the other mate can feel it just as clearly as they would if the bond was shared by both mates.” That passage stuck with her, and she organised the books back on the shelf as she saw Gwyn approaching. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

“How do we know if the bond snapped or not?” She blurted at the dinner table, the eyes of the inner circle turning to her.

“Well, it’s different for everyone and you would mostly just know.” Rhys said, looking at the female, the three Illyrians treated her like they were her brothers as well. So, the three have been looking for ways to help their little sister to get rid of those episodes. 

“What if the bond had snapped for me and I just didn’t know it was it?” She inquired again and Azriel turned to his sister, his shadows stopping to look at her curiously. 

“Do you think you found your mate?” He asked, eyebrow raised, who she thought she was mated to?

“I found this book that said that feelings can leak through the bond.” The couples nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s very common.” Feyre replied.

“That’s the only explanation for what’s happening to me.” They all stopped for a second. “These emotions are not mine, but they’re strong enough for me to feel it.” Suddenly it all made sense.

“I pity your mate then.” Nesta said with sincerity, whoever it was, was going through great pain for her to feel it so intensely. 

“Me too.” Feyre agreed. “But as for the bond, you can feel like a tug in your soul, like no one else matters to you anymore besides that person.” The High Lady concluded. 

“Do you think you ever felt like this?” Elain asked and the female nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.” 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

She couldn’t sleep, her mind filled with too many memories to rest. But one in particular caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that memory until she could see it clearly.

“I didn’t know the Night Court had such beauties by their side.” His voice purred, and she turned around to see the well dressed autumn male. He had a smirk adorning his lips, his hair slicked back, leaving a clear view of his face.

“The autumn males aren’t that bad either.” She sheepishly replied, eyes glued to his amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was a dangerous male, as her family had alerted her, but what a beautiful disaster he was. Stealing her breath away and making her lose all of her focus.

“If you ever give me the pleasure of your company, I'll show you how bad we can be.” He winked at her, leaving her standing still in the hallway. It was Nesta who found her, looking at nothing, frozen in place as her chest sparkled with life, like she was taking her first breath of fresh air after getting out of her father’s dungeon. As she was finally free. 

She kicked the covers away from her body, not caring about her clothing as she winnowed away. It was him, he was what was troubling her so much. She just needed to ask him to stop whatever this was and she would go back to normal. The shadows covered her as she sneaked through the Autumn Manor. 

Everything was pitch black, and she just followed the shadows, taking her to the only illuminated room. She pushed the door open, spotting Eris by the bed, looking in a small mirror as he stitched a very ugly wound in his chest. His eye was purple and his lips were bruised. 

“Who did this to you?” She breathed, her hands shaking in anger, how could someone do it to another being? She saw how cruel people could be and she dedicated her time to protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked startled, dropping the mirror from his hands and wincing in pain. Surprised to see her there, and even more curious to know why she was there.

“I came here to talk to you.” She walked closer to her. “Here, let me help you.” Eris raised an eyebrow towards her, what was happening? She picked the needle from his hands, her warm skin brushing against his, it was a nice feeling. He didn’t say anything as her soft touch rested against his heart, while her other hand worked on closing the wound.

She finished the stitches, reaching for the bowl of water, taking the cloth and with one hand she lifted his chin, eyes locked together for a second. She started to work on the dried blood that smeared across his lips and nose. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and letting her take care of him. 

“What do you want to talk about that was so important that you invaded my room in the middle of the night?” He watched as she got away from him, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of his room. She pulled her legs close to her chest. 

“I wanted you to stop.” He leaned forward.

“Stop what exactly?” She took a deep breath.

“With your overwhelming feelings, it’s been a fucking trouble to me. But you’re clearly going through something, so if you ever need me, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Eris sneered.

“Why would I ever seek your help?” He watched as she got up, her expression serious as she held the doorknob. 

“Because who’s better to help you than your own mate?” And with that she left. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Mate. 

Mate.

Mate.

She was his mate. Her words got caught in his mind, she had no reason to lie to him. But he also had no reasons to believe her, he just did. He chose to believe that the female who came to him in the middle of the night and showed him more kindness than his own flesh and blood was telling the truth.

So when another round of torture was over, he winnowed to her house, he had memorized the address she had sent to him. He could barely hold himself together, so he almost collapsed on top of her as she opened the door. She looked like she had been crying as he managed to take a look at her face, and he wondered if it was his emotions that led to that.

“I didn’t know where else to come, and I didn't want to be alone.” She didn’t laugh nor mocked him, she just nodded and left the room. He could hear her, moving around in a hidden room, he wondered if she regretted offering him shelter. 

All the doubts died down in his throat when she came back, leaning to help him stand, guiding the way towards a bathroom. She sat him in her toilet and helped him out of his clothes. He sank in the water, trying to ignore the fact that he had to be naked in front of her, she looked like she was trying her best to ignore it as well.

“I put some numbing herbs, to help with the pain.” He nodded, feeling very thankful for her kindness. “And I have some of Azriel’s clothes here if you don’t mind. Yours are very dirty and could infect your wounds.”

“I would like that, thank you.” She nodded, getting out of the room and only appearing again to drop the clothes. Eris sighed, feeling his body relax and his wounds starting to close. As the water got cold, he got out. He felt weird wearing the Shadowsinger’s clothes but nothing about this situation was usual for him. 

“I figured you’re probably hungry.” She placed a plate in front of him, no one had ever taken that much care of him before. “I didn’t cook it, Feyre told me it's a way of accepting the bond.” She smiled and he could swear that all the pain and sadness was lifted from his chest with that bright smile directed to him. 

“Yeah, we don’t want you accepting this bond by accident.” Why would she want to accept a life tied to him?

“Yeah, we have to get to know each other first.” She giggled, taking a bite of her own food. “You don’t even know my favourite colour!” Eris laughed, feeling the sound reverberate through his chest, how long it was since he truly laughed with someone? 

“Do you plan on accepting?” He asked, testing the waters.

“To be honest, I think about it, but as I said. First we get to know each other, we think about the bond later.” Eris nodded. 

“Does your family know?” He dared to ask, assuming that they didn’t, or else Azriel would have already threatened him. 

“They do!” He looked at her in shock. “They weren’t happy at first, but they respect my choice.” 

“Did you tell them?” He gestured towards himself and her smile faded.

“Your secret is safe with me, it’s not my story to tell.” He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Thank you, for everything.” She smiled again.

“Nothing to thank me for.” He grabbed her hand, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I have everything to thank you for, you just don’t know it.” They finished the meal and she got up to do the dishes, he quickly pushed her away. “It’s the least I can do.” She nodded.

“I’ll get the guest room ready for you then.” That night Eris slept like he hadn't slept in ages, soaking in the comfort of her home and her affection. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

Her fingers started to shake, and that wave of anxiety came, as overwhelming as ever, it has been a whole month that she didn’t feel it, but Eris still came up to her beaten every week, she knew he was holding back his pain for her. But today, it was just as unbearable as it was when he didn’t know about it.

She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists under the table. The dinner went nicely, everyone engaged in conversations and smiling. She couldn’t ruin it, not again. But it was too late, as tears started to stream down her face.

“Are you okay?” Gwyn asked. Concern lacing her delicate features. Y/N shook her head, a scream ripping past her lips and scaring the whole family, Azriel was by her side in a second, tending to her. 

“What’s wrong?” It wasn’t pain that filled her veins tonight, it was anger. The house shook with her power. She screamed in rage, if she didn’t act now, he was going to get killed. She grabbed the truth teller away from her brother.

“This ends tonight.” She announced before she winnowed away. The pain guided her, towards mouldy walls and putrid floors, the smell of blood making the air rancid. 

He groaned, the pointy blade opening his flesh as it was dragged across his skin. He tried to hold back his pain but it was too much tonight, the ash in the weapon making everything more painful. He tried to hang on for her, for the life he wanted to have with her, for everything they haven’t lived yet. But it was too painful to keep going. 

The cell door was forced open, with unruly hair, wet and red cheeks, holding a blade in her hands, his guardian angel came. The blade being pushed into Beron’s neck, blood splattering against her face. She pushed the blade to the side, Beron’s head being detached from his neck, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor. 

“Hey! Open your eyes.” She demanded, kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in between her hands, and in that moment, the bond in his chest sang with life, welcoming her unmistakable love for him. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 

The first thing he saw was the black curtains of her guest room. And the looming presence of the Shadowsinger himself, watching him intently. His body didn’t hurt anymore, all that was left was the warming feeling of the bond alongside his soul. 

“Where is she?” He asked, sitting straight up in bed, his muscles felt tingly from being in the same position for long.

“She’s out in town, getting some things.” Azriel sat in the chair facing the bed. “How are you feeling, Eris?” True concern filled his voice.

“I’m fine, she saved me.” He could never forget this.

“Use this gift she gave you to make her the happiest female alive.” Azriel said, and Eris knew this was the closest of his blessing he would ever get. “Keep her safe.”

“With my life.” The male promised. A door opened somewhere and her soothing voice filled the room.

“I’m home!” She announced, and it took her a few minutes to go to his room, pushing the door open, she watched him. Blinking the tears before rushing to him, jumping on top of him. He held her, and he felt  her lips pressed on his. His heart beated faster, as he retributed her kiss.

“Hey, stop that, that’s gross.” Azriel groaned, and she parted their kiss, laughing to her brother from Eris’s lap.

“You’re no fun.” She complained, showing him his middle finger. He rolled his eyes and left the room. “What do we do now?” She asked, but Eris didn’t want to think about the chaos that awaited for him at home, so he looked her in the eyes, sending all the love he could down the bond and asked.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

[ninii-winchester]

The Witch and the Hunter

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Witch!Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff. But not proofread.

A/n: another crossover fic yayyy!!!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

It was a lazy afternoon in the bunker and Dean was snooping around the library shelves to entertain himself, while Sam had his head buried in a book, like usual. Dean opened box after box, not finding anything worth his interest. But then he found a weird looking stone, it looked like sapphire, but bigger. It was dusty, he swiped his thumb over it thrice to clean it. Staring at it for a few seconds he didn’t deem it useful so he put back where he retrieved it from and turned to sit back down.

"Achoo." A loud sneeze was heard, and Sam glanced up to see Dean trip over something the moment he sneezed. The younger brother snickered as the older one almost slammed into a shelf in the library.

"What the hell?" Dean looked down and a pair of y/e/c eyes were staring back at him. A velvety coat of Y/h/c fur, It's sleek and smooth, lying flat against its body. The fur gleams slightly in the light, and it looks incredibly soft. "How did a cat get in here?" Dean looked at Sam with accusing eyes.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that, I didn't bring it here." Sam said standing up from his seat and Dean backed up from the creature as he sneezed again. "Hello there!" Sam approached the cat and she hissed at him. Maintaining his distance he kneeled in front of the small feline and cooed at it.

"How'd it even get in here?" Dean sneezed again, glaring at the cat for causing him an allergic reaction.

“Don’t know!” Sam shrugged, the y/h/c furry creature seemed to drop her guard a little as Sam neared her. The big y/e/c eyes blinked twice and then ran past the two men and jumped onto the tables placed in the library. Dean glared at the cat hissed back, jumping down from the table she neared him and started scratching his legs through his boots and jeans.

“Hey hey get off!” Dean slightly kicked his legs to get it off of him. Sam sighed before picking up the feline that was hissing at his brother, it struggled in his arms, wanting to be put down and Sam dropped it onto the table gently.

“Dean maybe you should go to your and it’ll calm down, then we can drop it off somewhere.” Sam suggested and the older brother nodded scowling at the cat, but leaving nevertheless. Sam watched as Dean walked down the hallway and turned back to cat and his jaw dropped when he saw a woman standing in the library with him.

“Blimey! That man was a menace.” Y/n said in a thick British accent, dusting herself slightly. Sam jumped at her voice and stared at her him shock.

“You’re…what…how?” Sam stuttered. “DEAN.” He yelled and Y/n frowned as the same man came back running at his brother’s loud voice. The green eyed man looked at her in bewilderment.

“What the fuck?” Dean exclaimed. The two brothers were now alert and were watching here every move. “Who the fuck are you?” Dean demanded.

“My name is Y/n. I’m a witch.” She replied with a unpleasant look towards Dean.

“Man I hate witches.” Dean mumbled but she heard him. With a scoffed she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You don’t like cats, you hate witches. Aren’t you a picky one, princess.” She taunted, as much as Sam didn’t want to, he let out a snort at her comment earning a sharp glare from his brother.

“How’d you get here?” Sam asked and she looked around the bunker.

“I don’t know, honestly. I was in a battle, fighting and we won. But then I felt dizzy, and it was like I was Apparating, but not by will.” She explained and Sam’s brain clicked onto something as she spoke.

“Apparating as in teleportation?” Sam asked and she nodded. Dean gave him a questioning glance. “So you’re from the wizarding world?” And she nodded again. “Wait a minute! You’re Y/n? As in Y/n Black?”

“How do you know?” Y/n got defensive.

“Would someone like to explain?” Dean snapped looking between the stranger and his brother. Y/n muttered a ‘no’.

“Dean’s she’s from the Harry Potter world.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Ofcourse you’d know, nerd.” Dean teased but then a wand was aimed the two brothers.

“How do you know Harry? And what the hell are you talking about? Who are you?” She demanded and she didn’t look like she was just threatening. She was serious and she wouldn’t hesitate to hex them.

“Hey easy with the weapons, Woman!” Dean barked and Sam sent him a look which said, ‘not-helping’.

“Look, I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. My best guess is you’ve travelled through universes. And we know Harry because well, there are books written on him in our universe and you’re just a fictional character.” Sam explained as best as he could. He could see her contemplating whether to trust him or not. She lowered her wand, slightly.

“What books? How do I know you’re telling the truth?” She questioned warily.

“Uh well, I can tell you stuff like you’re a Sirius’ twin, you’re a Gryffindor, honorary Marauder. Lily Potter was your best friend and you had a crush on Remus.” Sam replied and Y/n gasped. She’s never told anyone that before. Not even Lily. Dean watched as Y/n expressions changed from wary to bashful.

“What? That was years ago. How’d you even know that?” A hint of blush coated her cheeks as she spoke.

“I told you there are books, it’s written in the books.” Sam replied and Dean snickered. Y/n heaved a sigh and looked around the place. “We’ll give you a minute.” Sam said dragging Dean out to the hallway.

“Man, just when I thought you couldn’t get nerdier.” Dean chuckled at his younger brother. Sam gave him a bitch face before speaking,

“So what do we think?”

“I think she’s smoking hot.” Dean grinned earning a groan from Sam. “What? I have a good taste, man. She’s feisty.”

While the brothers talked Y/n stood in the middle of the library, thinking of what to do next. She didn’t know what to do, part of her didn’t want to go back home, after the second Wizarding War, she lost everyone she held dear. Sirius, Reggie, Remus, James and Lily. Everyone is dead. What if this is her chance to start fresh and move on. Besides, Harry doesn’t need her anymore. He has his friends and Voldemort’s gone.

“Sam? Dean?” She called out and the two men came back. She shifted uncomfortably, a thought crossed her mind, she didn’t even know anything about these two beside their names. How’d they even know about magic? Are they bad people? “Do you know how did I end up here? How can I go back?” She questioned. Before Sam could speak, Dean beat him to it.

“I think I know.” He turned to his brother. “There was this blue stone, looked a sapphire but bigger and I was just messing around, I cleaned it with my thumb but maybe it accidentally activated it and brought her here.” Sam asked him where did he find it and Dean gestured to the shelf he was at before Y/n appeared. The two of them followed Dean as he reached the box he found the stone in. The green eyed hunter let out a loud growl as he noticed the box was empty. “What the fuck?”

The other two in the room look at him expectantly and he told him that the stone’s gone. A wave of defeat crashed into Y/n but part of her was relived too. She was confused as to why she was feeling that way.

“Well I guess you’ll be staying here with us for a while.” Sam commented and Y/n looked surprised.

“You live here? This place is a mess. Learn to clean after yourself, lads.” She scanned the place with her Y/e/c eyes and with a huff she pulled out her wand and muttered “Scourgify.” The books and papers laying around started flying around and positioned themselves in their respective places and the place looked good as new.

“She’s staying forever.” Dean mumbled under his breath but Sam heard.

Sam showed Y/n to a guest room she could use while she was here and left her alone for a while. When he came back he found Dean searching for the stone in other boxes of the library. A part of Dean didn’t want her to leave, and he doesn’t know why. They didn’t even start on a good note but he wants her to stay. But he wants to find the stone and leave to her to make the decision if she wanted to go back. After all he knows how important family is and he’s sure she misses hers.

“You’ve got a crush.” Sam commented dropping into a chair. Dean stayed silent, not indulging in the teasing. “Isn’t it ironic though, she’s a witch. You hate witches. And her animagus form is a cat.” Sam cackled holding his chest. “You’re allergic to cats.”

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean replied knowing it is kind of ironic. He was definitely attracted to her. But he knew she had to go back sooner or later.

Y/n did a lot of thinking while she was left alone in her temporary room. She’d decided to stay, if the Winchesters didn’t want her to stay with them she would leave this place but she didn’t want to go back to the Wizarding world. She was all alone back there, all of her friends and family were gone. But there was another reason that she didn’t want to admit to herself. She found herself quite attracted to the green eyed man. There was some magnetic force that was pulling her towards him. And it was weird as hell since it’s only been an hour that she knows him. And all she knows is his name.

“Guys?” She called out entering the library. The two men turned their attention towards her. “I uh… I’ve gotta say something.” Dean raised his brow, quite interested to know what she had to say. “I don’t wanna go back.” Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, his heart thudding in his chest. “But I won’t be a bother to you guys I’ll leave.” She added quickly.

“What? No. Stay.” Dean spoke before he could register what he said. “I mean you’re a witch and we don’t trust you to not wreak havoc outside. You can’t go unless we say.” He said in a deep voice. Sam looked at him in amusement shaking his head.

“Who even are you?” She questioned tilting her head slightly. Dean found it extremely adorable.

“We’re hunters.” Sam replied gesturing her to take a seat. She took a seat and they explained her what hunters are. They told her all about the supernatural and how they hunt them.

“Werewolves?” Y/n pouted sadly. “You kill them too?” She was upset. Of course she was upset, her friend was lycanthrope too but that doesn’t mean he deserves to die. She didn’t like their ideology. The look on her face didn’t go unnoticed by either brother. But Dean was the one to speak.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We don’t kill the likes of your boyfriend.” She glowered at him but he remained indifferent. “More like….” Dean trailed off not knowing who to compare it with so Sam added,

“Greyback.” Dean nodded although he didn’t even know what it meant. “We believe not all creatures are bad and we only kill the ones who hurt people. We once let a werewolf go because she didn’t ask for it and she wanted to live a normal life.” He said as he thought of Kate.

“And all witches are bad in your universe?” She questioned.

“Well not all. I mean you’re here in universe and you’re not bad.” Dean winked and she blushed. He was so charming yet so infuriating. Minutes before he said he didn’t trust her to not wreak havoc and now he’s saying she’s not bad.

A month had passed since Y/n had came to this universe. She was now well versed with the hunting life and learned a lot more lore. She wasn’t allowed to go on hunts although they knew she could hold on her own. It was mostly because Dean want her to be in danger. Y/n was always confused when Dean was around. He was either too protective of her or he didn’t acknowledge her existence. If she was attracted to him at first, she’s developed a full fledged crush on him now. And she’s had enough of him giving her mixed signals. She decided to confront him about and knocked on his door. The door opened revealing Dean, clad only in his pyjamas, bare chested and his hair disheveled. Y/n gulped staring at his chest before looking back up at his face.

“What do you want?” Dean questioned his voice a bit groggy. It did something to Y/n which she wouldn’t admit out loud.

“What’s your problem?” She asked pushing past him and entering his room. “Why do you act so confusing around me? One moment you’re all protective and the next you act like I’m invisible. It’s driving me crazy.” Dean opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish.

Dean blinked, clearly caught off guard by her sudden confrontation. He rubbed a hand through his messy hair, trying to shake off the sleepiness. “Y/n, I—”

“Your constant mixed signals are making it hard to know where I stand with you.” She mumbled softly.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face before speaking, “it’s not that simple okay?” He grumbled. She glared at him with her arms crossed against her chest. He let out sigh,and looked up at her, his gaze softening. “I like you, okay? And I don’t know how to act around you.”

She stared at him, her heart racing. “So, you’re saying that you care about me but you’re not sure how to show it?”

Dean nodded slowly, a mix of frustration and vulnerability in his eyes. “Exactly. I want to be close to you, but I keep messing up. I’m trying to figure out how to be honest without making things worse.” She took a deep breath, her anger melting into a look of understanding.

“Well isn’t it a good thing that I like you too. Quite a lot.” She smiled. “You’re one of the reasons I didn’t wanna go back.” She confessed and he looked at her wide eyed.

“Really?” She nodded her head moving closer to him.

“I don’t know what it was about you, we didn’t even start on a good note, but there was something that was pulling me to you.”

“Trust me sweetheart, we would’ve started real good, had you not been a cat when we first met.” Dean smirked placing his hands on her waist.

“Why don’t you like cats?” She pouted tilting her head.

“I don’t hate them per say, I’m just allergic.” He replied with a soft smile. “And stop pouting like that if you don’t want me to kiss you sore.” Now that he knows she likes him back, he isn’t afraid to show his usual flirty self.

“Who says I don’t want you to?” She asked sneaking her arms around his neck. As he leaned down to kiss her she pulled away slightly and he gave her a confused look. “If we’re doing this, we’re getting you on allergy medication. I can’t let go of my animagus form.” Dean threw his head back as he barked out a laugh. He placed a kiss on her nose.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Dean took a deep breath, his fingers gently cupping her face as he looked into her eyes, just the two of them in this moment. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration of newfound feelings. But as she responded, his touch deepened, growing more intense and passionate. When they finally pulled away, their breaths mingled in the small space between them, leaving an unspoken promise lingering in the air.

While the two of them hadn’t labeled their relationship yet, they navigated their feelings together, finding comfort and excitement in their shared moments. Although Dean wasn’t sure if the medication would help he tried it for her sake, after finding out Y/n sought comfort in her cat form. It did help immensely and Dean was able to be in her presence while she was in her animagus form. She would usually sleep on the library table on an open book while Sam and Dean would do their research for a hunt. Her loud purring was a comforting sound, sometimes Sam would scratch her behind the ears and she would play with him as Dean watched in adoration. Dean had a fair share of scratches over his hands and arms, while she got too excited while playing but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

The bunker door opened and footsteps were heard, Y/n craned her neck from where she was sleeping in her cat form, the fur on her body standing upright. She watched a figure descend the stairs but Sam and Dean remained nonchalant. Y/n understood the reason as a trench coat came into view and she recognised him as Castiel. She jumped off the table and landed on her four feet and gingerly walked to the angel, and jumped onto his shoulder. He was caught off guard for a moment but relaxed.

“You didn’t tell me you got a pet.” Cas said approaching the boys, while petting the feline on his shoulder. “Especially a cat. How’d you convince him Sam?” He asked gesturing to Dean. The man in question smirked at his best friend.

“That’s my girl on your shoulder, Cas.” Dean said pridefully. Y/n jumped on the table and settled in Dean’s lap before turning back to her human self. Castiel watched wide eyed and quite confused. Dean grinned placing his hands on her waist as she sat sideways on his lap.

“Hello Castiel. Nice to finally meet you.” Y/n said.

Castiel blinked, still processing the sudden transformation. “You’re… Y/n?”

Dean chuckled, his grin widening. “Yep. I told you she had a unique way of making an entrance.”

Y/n laughed softly, leaning into Dean’s embrace. “I figured it was about time I introduced myself properly. Sorry for the surprise.”

Castiel shook his head, a hint of a smile forming on his usually serious face. “It’s quite a surprise. Dean never mentioned you had such… abilities.”

Dean shrugged, still holding Y/n close. “She’s full of surprises. But trust me, she’s as amazing as she is unpredictable.”

“So Y/n, Dean tells me you’re from another universe?” Castiel asked curiously. “How’d you even get here?” Y/n shrugged before explaining, what Dean told them when she first came here. Castiel titled his head to the side, “A blue stone you say?” Dean looked inquisitive as he leaned closer. Y/n and Sam also had the same expressions.

“Do you know something Cas?” Sam questioned.

“It was a Inter-dimensional Soulstone.” Castiel said. “It’s said to be a mythical gem, which has the power to unite Soulmates. It is said to be imbued with the power to bridge the gap between parallel universes. When Dean touched it, it brought Y/n here.” Cas explained. “If Y/n had found it first in her universe, it would’ve taken Dean there.”

The three others absorbed the information Castiel provided, and Y/n felt a warm flutter in her chest at the thought of Dean being her soulmate.

Dean noticed her reaction and gently squeezed her hand. “So, what do you think?”

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes meeting his. “I think it’s pretty amazing. And I’m really glad it’s you.”

Dean grinned, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Me too. Guess we’ve got a lot of good things ahead.”

Castiel nodded, his tone lighter. “It’s a rare and special thing. Enjoy it.”

Y/n leaned in, resting her head on Dean’s shoulder. “I plan to. Thanks, Cas.”

Dean wrapped an arm around her, content. “Here’s to figuring it all out, together.” Dean tilted his head slightly and leaned in, his lips brushing gently against Y/n’s. It was a soft, brief kiss, filled with warmth and affection. When they pulled away, their smiles met, and the quiet connection between them spoke volumes.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

[disasterofastory]

Behind the walls (Brahms Heelshire x Reader)

Behind the walls // Brahms Heelshire Masterlist Brahms Heelshire x Reader Kinktober 2023 - 11/14 Warnings: a bit of angst, bath sex

Summary: After an argument, you go and search for Brahms.

A/N: I'm sorry, I'm late again with this part, but I will post the next chapter too in a minute. Enjoy!

The house is quiet and still. Everything you do sounds louder than it should. Even your thoughts. Guilt and worry still eat at your mind, mixing with the remaining anger bubbling in your chest. You can hear your heated conversation with Brahms again and again until you start to go insane. Your eyes scan the walls of your room, finding every hole and crack on the wooden surface. He is not here. You know it.

Arguing with Brahms Heelshire is unavoidable since you spend more time with him than without him. And he is stubborn, demanding, and clingy. And he loves you in his own way; you are sure of that, but his love can be suffocating when you barely have access to the real world outside of the manor. You need to breathe. And he needs to understand that.

The sun is already setting when you have enough of the silence. You haven't seen Brahms since breakfast. You wandered around the house all day like a damn ghost, listening and trying to find that manchild who decides to hide every time he doesn't get what he wants. New-found anger awakes in your chest, but you decide to push it down. Another fight will lead you nowhere with him.

"Brahms?" You break the silence. Your voice is hoarse from being quiet all day. "Brahms? Can you come out? Are you here?"

When you don't get an answer even after half an hour, you decide to take the next step. And you hate yourself for it. Even though Brahms is still prone to spend a lot of his time behind the walls, you never thought about following him and exploring what the manor still has to offer. On one hand, you thought of it as Brahms's safe place, and on the other, you were terrified of it. "Please, Brahms," you speak up again with a slight begging in your tone. The mirror on the wall slowly creaks as you open the secret door behind it. "I really don't want to go and search for you in there." For a few seconds, you stay still and try to listen, hoping you will hear his steps approaching, but your ears meet with silence. "Fuck," you grunt, grimacing.

Being behind the walls of the manor is just as horrible as you imagined but not as dark because of the dim light filtering through the holes and gaps. The ground creaks under your steps, and everything is dusty and old. And not even a few turns later, you aren't even sure where you are anymore. "Brahms?" You call him again. "Please, come here." The tight place makes you sick and dizzy. You don't like it. Your heart thuds in your chest, wanting to jump out of your body and leave this place. "Please," you try again. "Brahms, I really need you now." Tears gather in your eyes as you fight with the tightness of your throat. Your legs shake under your weight, and your nails dig into the wood here and there as you try to make yourself move forward.

It was a bad idea. A horrible idea. And still, your heart breaks even more each second you spend behind the walls, and Brahms doesn't come to your rescue. Maybe he doesn't care for you that much after all.

A loud and sharp shriek bursts out of your lips when someone grabs your arms from behind. Your heart jumps up into your throat, and you are sure you will faint any second now. Tears escape from the corners of your eyes, running down your heated cheeks.

"Please!" You beg even though you don't know why. "Please!" Strong, muscular arms curl around your body from behind, keeping you together when you are afraid you will wall apart. "Shh," the man hums into your ears. His breath is warm. "Sh." "Brahms," you choke. "It's me, Y/N," Brahms replies, holding you close against his chest. "You are safe, Y/N. I'm here. I will protect you." You can do anything but sob in his arms as you try to calm yourself. Your hands hold onto his arms in front of your chest. His hug grounds you until you can breathe again. "Do you want to go out?" He asks quietly, kissing the curve of your neck every now and again. First, you want to scream yes, but deep down, you know if you leave now, you will be always afraid of what lurks behind the walls beside Brahms. "No," you shake your head. "Just don't leave me." "Never," he says. His chest is filled with satisfaction at your request. You need him. You want him to never leave you. He can do that. "I can show you my room," he says. "If you want." Your stomach twists at the thought of him having a room here. "Okay," you nod. "Show me."

Brahms leads you through the house, holding you close the whole time, and you cling to him without a second thought. He can't help but feel pride as you grip his hand and arm. It's a change in your relationship, and both of you notice it even though none of you say it out loud. Usually, you are the more dominant one who always knows what to do or say, while he just enjoys being under your care.

"If you look out here," Brahms points at a small hole. "You can see the kitchen."

He wants you to get more familiar with this place. With his place. He thinks if you know your way around better, you will be less afraid even if you never come back here.

"I can't believe you lived here almost your whole life," you tell him, shuddering. Brahms isn't hurt by your words. He can hear the heartache in your words, even though he doesn't entirely understand why. These narrow corridors, dim lights, and the darkness that follows them mean safety and comfort to him. "It's not so bad," he says awkwardly, but when he sees your expression as you look around his room, well, what he calls his room, he knows in your eyes, it's much worse. "Oh, Brahms." You don't want to show pity, but his name falls out of your name before you can stop it. You know he doesn't need you to feel sorry or sad for him. This small space with old furniture and even older dust is his home. It's everything he knows.

Tearing your eyes away from the small bed, you look at him. "Promise me." Brahms frowns. "Promise what?" "Promise me that one day, when you feel ready, you will come with me and see the world." You know it's not so easy, but you have to hope and plan that it will happen someday. You know Brahms is not like other men. He has his demons, fears, and the way he sees the world. He can be dangerous, bratty, and demanding. You are not even sure how he would react outside of the manor. But seeing that you are still with him and never plan to leave him, you are not normal either, and maybe you can help him with his fights. "I promise," he says after a few tense seconds. Maybe it's a promise he can't keep, but he can try. For you.

He holds you in his arms tightly, inhaling your scent as he pushes his face to the crook of your neck. Even though he doesn't entirely understand your pity or sadness, he knows it comes from care and love, and this is what Brahms wanted all his life. "Do you want to go out?" He asks. "You don't have to stay here." "Please." Your reply is muffled by his shirt. You cling to him tighter, and he picks you up in his arms easily.

He can feel your body relaxing against his when the secret door closes behind you. Your arms are still around his neck while he holds you up by your bottom. "I love you," he hums, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you in his lap. "I love you so much." Leaning back a bit, you cradle his face in your hands. "I love you too, baby." He only notices how pale you were the whole time when the color starts to come back to your face. And still, despite everything, you came after him behind the walls to get to know him better. "Do you want to take a bath?" He asks, squeezing your hips. You are dusty and dirty. "With you," you tell him, and his heart flutters. "Whatever you want."

You work together as you get ready for the bath. None of you remember your argument anymore. You take care of the water while Brahms fetches your pajamas and clean towels. "Climb in first," you tell him as you get rid of your clothes. After he adjusts himself, you climb in after him. Your legs are pressed between the wall of the bathtub and his thick thighs. "Are you okay?" You ask him. "I can move away." You would hate to do it, though. "No," he grunts, already feeling himself getting hard under you. Your soft flesh is above his length, and your tits are in front of his face. Your nipples are already hard peaks, begging for his mouth.

To distract himself, Brahms grabs the soap and starts to wash you. He cups the water in his hands, pouring it on your body to soak and warm you up while you sit limp on his lap. Your arms stay around his neck while your head rests on his broad shoulder. Your fingers play with his hair at the nape of his neck. He rubs and massages your back as much as he can from this position. His thumb glides over the line of your spine before moving back to draw circles on your shoulder blades.

"Y/N?" Brahms asks after a while. His sudden voice sounds too loud in the quiet room. "Hm?" "Oh, I thought you fell asleep," he says, moving his large hands up and down on your back. "No," you murmur "I'm just enjoying the moment." "Does it feel good?" He asks. "Yeah," you sigh, pushing yourself away from the man between your thighs before you really fall asleep on him. "Thank you." He forces a soft smile onto his face before his lips open with a sharp exhale. Your fingers rake through the hair on his upper body. His stomach clenches under your soft touch. "Y/N," Brahms says. "We don't have to…" He knows you feel his length pressing against your folds. "I know," you tell him, brushing one of his nipples with your thumb. "But I want you, Brahms. I want you as close as possible." He grunts through his closed lips. His eyes are wide and interested as he watches you caressing his chest. He has to force himself to stay still and not to buck up against your pussy.

Suddenly, the air gets steamy and heavy around you. Your hands slip up to his hair, caressing and washing the wet, dark curls sticking to his temple.

He lets you play and explore him for a while, even though he knows you know him well enough by now. Your hands smooth up on his arms, slipping over his shoulders until you cradle his face. Your thumb traces the thickest line left by the fire years ago. Brahms still barely believes that you not only want to see him but also want to touch, caress, and kiss him too. His heart flutters every time you do it.

His eyes stray down from your relaxed expression to your chest. The soft skin of your breasts shines under the light of the bathroom, and they are slippery as he lets his hands wander away from your hips. He let his fingers smooth over the underside of your tits, following their soft curve before opening his palms to knead your flesh. His thumbs tease and rub over your nipples. "Brahms," you mewl his name, grabbing onto his neck to pull him down to your chest. Your back arches to give him more space as his lips latch onto your nipple. His tongue flicks over the sensitive bud repeatedly. He can feel the bitter taste of the soap on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't care about it. He sucks even more of your breast into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over your skin. You gasp when he tugs on your nipple, soothing it with his tongue afterward.

One of your hands is under the water between your bodies. The surface of the water ripples with every move you make between your legs. Your fingers slide through your folds to your entrance, brushing over his length in the process. The water and your juices help you finger yourself effortlessly.

"I can't wait any longer," you break the silence with an impatient edge in your voice. Your insides quiver with anticipation, and your pussy flutters around nothing when you pull out your fingers in favor of grabbing Brahms's erection. You stroke up and down on his shaft a few times before adjusting the tip of his cock to your entrance.

Your mouth falls open with a silent cry when you start to skin down on his cock. His girth stretches you out, filling your hole inch by inch. "Fuck," you groan when Brahms pinches your nipple again. You envelop him in your tight warmth to the point he can't even think. White, hot pleasure flares through his body while you sink lower and lower on him. You whimper and moan, wanting more and more of him even after you accept him fully, and he can't go any deeper. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, and he can't help but hiss with your nipple still between his teeth. "Brahms." You barely sound like a human anymore. Tears gather in your eyes from the desperation thudding in your ribcage. "I got you," he whispers, sliding his hand to your hips. "Do not worry, love. I'm here." Adjusting his legs against the bottom of the bathtub, he starts to rock his hips upward, grinding his cock in your pussy. He rubs against every sweet spot and sensitive nerve you have, keeping you steady above him as you still hold onto him until his skin is red because of your nails. He hisses and grunts at the pain but pushes into you deeper. Your walls flutter around his shaft, trying to accept everything he can give you. His movements are barely noticeable because of the small space of the bathtub, but none of you care about it. You wheeze and moan in his old, pressing your chest against his as he bounces you on his lap in sync with his thrusts. "Fuck, Brahms," you gasp. "I'm- I'm gonna-" "It's okay," he grunts. His warm breath fans over the side of your face. The line of his jaw is hard as he clenches his teeth together to keep himself from cumming. He wants to feel your sweet cunt pulsing and cumming around him first. He wants your pussy to milk his cock, begging for his release.

The water splashes all over the room, soaking the small carpet in front of the bathtub. The air is steamy and smells like honey and something else, mixing with Brahms's own spicy soaps and shampoo. Your skin is soft, warm, and slippery under the man's hands as he still uses your body to grind you on his erection. He jerks and twitches inside you. His balls are heavy with the need to shoot inside you, plastering your walls.

"Cum for me, Y/N," he hisses, reaching down between your bodies to find your clit with his thumb. "Cream my cock, love, let me have it all." He is surprised he can from words with the mush in his head that was his brain once.

Your mouth drops open, and your whole body rocks above him as you chase your climax. Wails and cries escape your throat at the familiar feeling in your lower stomach. The burning coil bursts and surges through your veins. Your pussy tightens around his cock like a vice, making Brahms growl as he cums into you. Your walls squeeze on his shaft, and your nails dig even deeper into his flesh. None of you can breathe for long seconds as waves and waves of pleasure wash over you both. His arms are tight around your middle, keeping your limp, exhausted body against his chest while his cock still jerks and shoots in your pussy.

"We should take a shower," you hum with a weak laugh when you feel his seed leaking out of your hole. "I can't feel my legs," he replies, making you chuckle again as you snuggle deeper in his arms.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Lover, Please Stay

Astarion x F! Tav

(Pillow Talk part 2)

18+ complicated feelings, angst, jealousy, intimacy, talks of sex work, fingering (f!), oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), feral Astarion, tenderness

Tav keeping him at arms length, Astarion makes a plan to woo her back into his good graces. But his hunger, for her and her blood, proves distracting...

Masterlist, Part 1

-

True to her word, she was avoiding him.

Even leaving him at camp. He covered the sting like he always did.

"You doing all the work while I relax with a good book? Please, if you must twist my arm."

He hid the anxiety throttling him into a sultry smile. Waving goodbye to the retreating party with a wiggle of his fingers.

When they disappeared into the treeline, he turned with a scowl and pushed inside his tent. The hunger gnawing through him now in the forefront of his mind.

In avoiding him, she had inadvertently kept him from her neck.

Animal blood wasn't enough anymore. Sure technically it filled him, it did the job. But it was a meager substitution.

When her blood would burst into his mouth, it sent a crackling pleasure across the back of his skull. Sending fire in slow pulses as her blood pushed out into his veins. From his center ebbing out a warmth in rhythm to his swallowing. His cold body cracking apart with her molten river. It was a miracle he was able to stop that first night.

The bloodcall was a prickling hateful need, but the other need he felt towards her made him bristle more.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way they had crashed and smeared into each other. There was nothing practiced about it, nothing gained or lost. Just pulling mouths and pleading fingers and dizzy heat.

He felt his cock stir just from the memory and frowned.

This wouldn't do. He was too pent up, a dog in a kennel circling.

He would get back in her good graces, in one way or another.

When they had finally returned for the night, he feigned disinterest. Lounging back on a pillow outside of his tent, flicking the pages of one of his books with the tips of his fingers.

She wiggled out of her boots with adorable little grunts. Unlacing her bracers and beginning to lift up to the buckles on her breastplate.

"Here, let me." Gale stepped over, reaching for the buckles that sat on her sides.

"Oh! Thank you!" She chirped, lifting her arm to make way for his fingers, naturally let her hand fall on his shoulder.

"I guess it's only fair. You don't wear armor, so you have much less undressing to do." She hummed.

He saw the heat go to Gale's cheeks, clearing his throat.

"You know, I could continue to help you. In the future." He offered, a slight waver in his tone.

Astarion had stood before his mind had spoken to his feet. Striding over.

"Gale, dearest. You'll keep her here all night. Let faster fingers attend to our friend here."

Gale held his hands up in defeat good naturedly, but he saw a bite flash across his eyes.

A silent crackling energy passed between them.

"Our pale friend is right, I'd better return to the delectable meal I've been planning."

Gale stepped away, but not before squeezing her bicep, leaving a lingering touch there.

The wizard was lucky his blood was putrid.

Well, maybe he could still rip his throat out for fun.

As soon as Gale was out of earshot Tav sighed, speaking under her breath to him.

"Well, Gale wants to fuck me now too."

"Ah, you'll have to forgive the boy. I'm sure he hasn't seen such a ravishing creature before that dusty tower. Nothing but his hand and books."

Tav gasped, trying to kick him, but he slid away from her foot easily. His fingers snapping her buckles open with flourish.

"You're the devil." She chided, but he could see the smile on the corner of her lips.

"Devilishly handsome? I agree."

The last buckle free, he lifted the breastplate over her.

She moaned, rotating her shoulders in relief. Her undershirt sticking to her skin. The white fabric wet with her efforts.

He kept his eyes above collarbone with great effort. The outline of her full breasts in his peripheral.

"Thank you, my savior." She teased, sitting down to unbuckle from her shin guards.

He was hovering and she noticed, looking up at him expectantly.

"Darling, I couldn't help but wonder why you haven't been offering me your sweet neck."

She sat back up, hand resting on her thigh. Eyes searching his.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd want to see me after the other night." She said plainly.

"But I guess I'm a service, after all." Said with impartial truth.

"Sure, here." She offered her wrist up to him.

He blinked, on the back foot again.

Like she had scooped into him and pulled the marrow of his person out. That uncanny ability to speak his thoughts through her mouth.

No, I'm the service. Not you, sweet girl.

"Let's wait, no reason to supp from you out in the open. With so many prying hungry eyes."

He trailed the backs of his fingers along the inside of her wrist as she lowered it.

"Meet me in my tent, okay?" He hushed, his voice coming out uncharacteristically soft.

"Of course, whatever you need." She smiled.

He felt like he needed to prove something to her, but what?

He rearranged the pillows for a third time. The candle lit canvas shroud of his tent draped in as much comfort as he could find. Or steal.

Blankets and plush pillows. Enchanted lights draped along the roof, a lavender candle burning on a plate.

He sighed, this was too much. He was being silly.

"May I come in?" She whispered outside of the closed flap.

"I'd like nothing more." He crooned, sitting as casually as he could manage.

She ducked in and blinked in surprise. Eyes trailing along.

"Wow, what's the occasion?" She started getting comfortable. Pulling the pins free from her hair and shaking it down her back. Leaving her shoes in a neat line at the entrance.

Something about seeing her like this again made his heart sing. That casual intimacy that he desired in the cradle of his tent.

She kneeled down across from him, pulling her collar away from her neck. Turning her head to the side, bending open for him.

He leaned forward and gathered her into his hands, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. Breathing in.

She could feel his need, touching his arm uncertainly.

"Are you okay, Star?" She hushed.

He slid his hand down her back, his eyes closed. Fingers mapping her into his memory.

"Just- just give me a moment." His voice coming out gravelly.

"Do you want me to get undressed?" She whispered, and he nodded into the side of her neck.

She pulled her sleep shirt over her head, his hands only leaving her to toss it far in the corner.

Sat in only the underclothes hugging her hips, she waited patiently as his eyes drank her.

The spread of her hips dipping into her waist. The round full of her breast. The soft curve of her stomach. An oil painting come to life.

"You're very comfortable in the nude." He teased, trying to jumble his thoughts back into his slack head.

"It takes practice." She smiled. "People usually don't want to see the wares stored away."

He could feel the confusion strike his face.

"What do you mean by that, darling?"

"Oh, I figured the others would have gossiped by now. Huh, good for them."

She flourished down her body. "This used to go to the highest bidder."

His hands slowed, pulling away.

"You were a sex worker?"

"What makes you think I'm not still one?" She winked, and he felt a hard shock of sudden recognition in her mannerisms. This was his playing field.

"Tav..." He paused, trying to wrestle his thoughts into a carefully picked set of kind words. She didn't need to know that part of his past yet. He could stand to pretend to be at least somewhat competent for a while longer.

"I get if that turns you off. We can go back to just feeding if you want."

"Well, what do you want?" He leaned his head, looking at her. Dead heart phantom hammering.

She seemed to consider it. "I think I like you, and I want to be near you. In whatever way that means to you."

He leaned forward, sliding on knees to reach her.

He laced his arm around her back, their lips hovered across one another. Her breath tickling his lips.

Sliding his hand down her front, he held her eyes.

A collective breath held between them, only broken as his fingers dipped into her heat.

Her eyes fluttered shut, hips tilting forward.

He pressed his forehead to hers as she rocked into him, rubbing her clit with his thumb.

She tried to reach for his trousers. He huffed out a soft no and led her hands to drape over his neck.

He looked at her with lidded eyes, pulsing his long fingers into her molten heat. Curving and catching the spongy wall.

She squirmed, gripping onto his thighs. One single breath passed between them. Speaking in panting and soft moans.

He pushed her onto her back, sliding down. His mouth coming down to lick in long stripes above his fingers.

She shuddered, head falling back. Gasping out little cries for him.

All of her sounds, her arching movements, wrapping around his mind in a haze.

He ground his erection into the bunched blankets on the tent floor.

His arousal a warm rhythm inside his body for once. The practiced working of his mouth finally put to a worthy effort.

He twisted his tongue into her, slurping and suckling. Free hand holding her in place as her hips tried to escape.

"Fuck," She hissed, gripping his hair. Legs starting to shake around his ears.

He moaned low and deep into her. His cock throbbing, hips fucking into the blankets.

"Oh fuck, Astarion. I'm-" But she was already rising off of the blankets, head wrenched back.

He followed her up, gripping her ass.

She squeaked out a few rising cries then fell apart in his hands. Tremoring rising up through her body, rippling outwards from where his mouth was still pulsing. Her head lolled, little jolts from her cunt as the creamy slick of her spend met his tongue. Lapping it in greedily.

He gasped. It rocketed against his skull like her blood. He needed more.

He hooked her thighs over his shoulders and dove back into her. Hungry. Messy. Uncontrolled. Completely cutting off his breath. He didn't need it anyway.

Her eyes shot open, moaning out.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, bracing herself next to her head. Holding on as he took her apart.

He felt crazed, his hunger for her blood and the slick he pulled from her one and the same. The sounds coming from his lapping obscene.

Closing his eyes, he growled. Fingernails biting down into her ass. Saliva and slick dripping down his jaw.

One more hard swirling pull on her clit and she was shuddering hard, a strained moan of curses flowing from her lips. Eyes rolling back in her skull like marbles.

He yanked her towards him in anticipation, fingers rubbing hard into her clit encouragingly.

Her second wave of creamy slick met his tongue, so sweet and rich. Lighting his skull up in streaks of pleasure.

He pulled his weeping cock from his leathers and stroked with his slick soaked hand. Once, twice, and he was gone. Spurting thick ropes under his body, whimpering out pulsing cries as the pleasure wrenched out of him.

He lapped at her as long as she would allow, eventually gently pushing his head back.

"Gods below, Star. That was... that was heaven." She gasped.

He murmured in agreement, head falling into the inside of her thigh. Fingers trailing the silk of her side, the arch of her ribcage.

"Do you want me to stay?" She hushed, scratching lightly along his scalp.

He moaned softly, nodding into her.

"Come here to me." She purred, pulling him up her body. Resting his head against her chest.

The beat of her heart a steady tranquil drum. Her arms and legs tangled in his. He puddled into her, both of her hands scratching in slow lines along his skull.

For the first time in a long time, he fell into a heavy sleep.

The night passing dreamless.

~