#i am so desperately fighting this feeling of otherness i will NOT shut myself out

[cupiare]

i like. refuse to entertain any thoughts that maybe i just didnt come out right or theres something fundamentally wrong w me cause i don’t want to get caught in a self pitying mindset but i do wonder . what exactly makes me always end up in Predicaments with people why do i feel like the more honest i am and the clearer my intentions the worse they get across

[soullumii]

sleepyhead | gale dekarios x afab!reader

(18+!!!) afab!reader. second person pov. literally just smut: oral (f receiving), piv, dirty talk, consensual somnophilia. gale lives to please as always

my first gale fic... this man has taken over my entire life.

2k words

Gale’s lips press against yours in the dark, gentle and coaxing. A push and pull. You blink blearily awake from slumber as his hand finds your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleep shift. His brown hair falls over the two of you like a curtain, shielding you from the terrors of the darkness.  

“Mm hello,” you purr against his lips. “What time is it?” You ask when he pulls back. He looks a bit wild, pupils blown wide, his eyes practically look black even in the dim candlelight. He’s breathing heavily, his gaze traveling over you, heated, like the air surrounding fire. He doesn’t answer. 

“Gale?” you repeat, warmth pooling in your belly at the pure desperation on his face. At the want curling in his eyes like a flame.

“It’s late,” he murmurs, voice rough, as though he’s parched. “Though I cannot stop thinking about you. I must…” he trails off, mind moving faster than his mouth can.

One thing you love about Gale is his ability to talk for seemingly hours on end with such eloquence and poetry. But when he’s like this…already hard against your thigh, slowly rutting his hips in circles, captured within pleasure, the words seem to leave him. You love it just as much, if not more. 

He leans in and runs his nose along your throat, breath ghosting over your skin. His teeth graze you, and his tongue follows, licking a stripe up your throat. You moan shakily, cunt clenching around nothing. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, though it’s more breath than substance. Your brain is already beginning to short circuit, especially when the hand on your waist travels down to your thigh, fingertips pressing into the muscle there. 

“You just looked so beautiful on the battlefield today… I tried to contain myself because we had so much to do, but… fuck,” he breathes this against your neck, desperate. He hardly ever uses such vulgar language. “I need you, love.” 

“So you really weren’t lying when you told me you were turned on by my fighting,” you say, surprised.

“I am a lot of things, darling, but a liar is not one of them.”

The sound of his inhale as he leans down to kiss you again sends more molten pleasure swirling through you. 

His hips press against yours, grinding against your clothed cunt in a steady rhythm. You moan into his mouth, your hands reaching up to clench at his sleep shirt stretched over his broad back. 

You’re still sleepy as his hand drifts to the hem of your shift. He slowly pulls it up your thighs, up over your breasts, revealing your undergarments. He paws at your waistband like a cat begging for food. You lift your hips so he can pull them down over your ass. He undoes the ties to your bralette and slides it off your shoulders. 

Gale kisses his way down your body, stopping to close his warm mouth over a nipple while his dexterous hand squeezes and tugs at the other. You moan lightly, pleasure easing through you. He hums appreciatively against your skin, and the vibrations travel pleasantly through you.

“Gale…” you half murmur half moan as he moves his mouth to your other nipple. “I can hardly stay awake…” You feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness. The gentle chirping of the crickets outside your tent doesn’t help.

“Of course,” he says, leaning back. “We can stop.”

“No—no wait,” you stop him with a hand curled around his wrist. “You can keep going while I’m sleeping, I don’t mind.” 

His eyes darken, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips. “Really? Are you quite sure?”

You nod with a sleepy smile and settle back comfortably. ��Mhm.” 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

Your eyes flutter shut, your breathing slowing as you succumb to your exhaustion. Your limbs feel heavy, even as Gale continues his way down your body. 

“You’re so gorgeous, so perfect,” he whispers into your skin. His fingers curl into your thighs before he slowly pulls them apart, baring yourself to him.

He runs his hands appreciatively up and down your thighs, squeezing and kneading before hooking them over his shoulders.

Gale presses a kiss to the inside of your right thigh before retreating. You feel his lips again a second later, just between your thigh and cunt, mere centimeters from where you’re wet and aching for him.

And then you feel his warm breath puffing against your core, and your body squirms impatiently. You peek an eye open to watch him.

He looks so handsome as he glances up at you, eyes soft, mouth twitched into a smirk. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I am,” you reply, closing your eyes again. “Just wanted to admire the view one last time.” 

He chuckles lowly, “Sweet dreams, darling.”

He doesn’t move for a while, and you find yourself drifting off in the stillness. Your breathing slows, your mind growing quiet as sleep takes over you.

---

The moment your breaths even out as your hands fall slack against your sides, Gale presses his face between your thighs. He uses the flat of his tongue to lick a long, hot stripe through your folds. You taste delicious on his tongue, and gods you’re so wet. You’re soaking his beard, and he’s hardly been between your thighs for longer than ten seconds.

He doesn’t care. You keep releasing cute little moans in your sleep as he takes you apart brick by brick. Or rather… lick by lick.

His hands grip your waist, keeping you close. Your hips buck involuntarily to meet his mouth, grinding against his face. Even in your sleep you’re seeking out pleasure from him. 

God forbid he won’t deliver.

He pulls back one of his hands to slide a finger into you. It goes easily. He adds another without any resistance. You’re so incredibly wet. He wants to remain between your thighs forever. Your sweet, slick arousal runs down his hand to his wrist, and he bends his head to lick it off. 

His hips rut against the floor of his tent, the act of eating you out so arousing to him he has to seek his own pleasure to mitigate the pain. He doesn’t mind. He’d rather see you cum over and over again before he ever does.

He slowly thrusts his fingers into you while mouthing at your clit, delighting in your shaky breaths and wanton moans. You look gorgeous, brows screwed together, sweat beading on your temple. You’re going to wake up soon, and damnit he’ll make sure it’s while you’re cumming.

---

Warmth kindles between your thighs, pleasure and arousal pooling deep in your belly, tingling in your toes and rising through you.

Sleep drifts away from you, hanging onto the recesses of your mind, but ultimately not strong enough against the building pleasure you feel. 

You chase the feeling, the promise of sweet release. Your surroundings slowly begin to materialize around you. The feeling of your bedroll clenched between your fingers, the undeniable feeling of a mouth between your legs, the sound of low, rumbling, appreciative moans that vibrate through you.

Even the sound of your own cries are registering in your mind. 

The melting pleasure collapses into one pinpoint. A supernova explodes within you as your clit is sucked diligently while the two, long fingers buried inside you hook to press against your g-spot. 

Your back bows, eyes flying open as you cum against Gale’s warm and inviting mouth with a cry of his name. He guides you through it with gentle laps of his tongue through your folds. He mumbles words of encouragement, but they’re lost against your skin. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Gale.”

“Mm.” You can practically feel his pride radiating off of him from making you come. 

He continues to lick you through it until you’re coming again, hands fisted in his hair as his lips suck once more on your clit, his fingers fucking into you. Your legs quiver atop his shoulders, your mind utterly fucked into emptiness.

When it’s all too much you push him away, breathing heavily, contented tears in your eyes.

“Holy shit,” you huff, trying to catch your breath. “Maybe you should wake me up like that more often.”

His eyes sparkle excitedly. “If that is what you wish, I’d be glad to.” 

“You are such a giver. You really should let me take care of you sometimes.”

He shrugs. “I like giving. It brings me great pleasure to reside between your thighs for as long as you can stand.”

You sigh at his fanciful words, but you appreciate his adoration all the same. He crawls forward as you lean up to kiss him, the taste of yourself on his tongue rekindling the fire in your gut. His hand winds its way into your hair, the other squeezes your hip. 

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “Now.” 

He groans, fingers flexing in your hair. Your body jolts with arousal at the sweet tug. 

“Say no more,” Gale says. “Your wish is my command.”

He takes off his trousers then rolls you onto your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling your ass up and backwards, and his knee comes between your thighs to press them apart. 

He guides the head of his cock through your slick folds and your hips squirm in anticipation.

He leans across your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. “I wish you could see yourself on the battlefield. The way you look with someone else’s blood on your armor… The flush on your cheeks… The way you breathe… You’re so capable, so strong. I cannot help but stare.”

He eases his cock inside you and the two of you moan in tandem at the delightful feeling. Him, at your warmth. You, at the undeniable feeling of being filled. 

He bites lightly at your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “Sometimes I wish I could take you right there. In front of all of our friends and dead foes.”

You clench around him at his words, and he groans, hips snapping forward. You jolt against the bedroll, elbows digging into the feather down material. 

“Gale,” you whimper. 

He hums, “Yes. You’d be saying my name just. Like. That.” He delivers those three last words with hard thrusts, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the tent. 

He builds up the pace, fucking into you steadily. Your cheek squishes against your pillow as he fills you, your mind still sleepy but undeniably consumed by lust and love.

“What do you think? Would you like that, love? Would you like to be fucked in front of all our companions?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, Gale. Need you—“

“Mm, that’s it,” he murmurs. His hand skates across your stomach as his warm fingers settle over your clit. “As much as I’d love to indulge the fantasy, I’m not sure I’d want them to watch.” 

He begins to circle your clit with reverence, in time with his thrusts as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you all to myself,” he grits. 

You cry out, melting against him, knees buckling as you reach your release. It rips through you, hard and fast. Unrelenting. A wildfire raging through your nerves. 

Gale chases after his own climax, thrusts growing sloppy and deeper, moans and praises spilling from his lips before he finally cums inside you, hips twitching. 

Your body trembles as the aftershocks roll through you. 

You collapse onto the bedroll, breathing heavily, and Gale pulls you into him. You both lie on your sides, him softening inside you. He buries kisses into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“Are you all right?” he asks you, his thumb brushing comfortingly along your rib cage. 

“So good,” you respond, brain blissfully empty, as if the tadpole never existed. You already feel sleep crawling across your mind again, pulling you under. You yawn and grin happily, like a cat that’s gotten its warm milk. 

“Going back to bed already?” he teases, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I wear you out that much?” 

“Mhmm…”

“All right. Go to sleep darling. I’ll clean you up.”

You’re already halfway asleep when you feel his tongue dip into you once more, licking his cum out from inside you—

Oh well. You can catch up on sleep tomorrow.

[fake-bleach]

omg omg loved the derek fic so much, i’ll be anxiously waiting for part two ❤️🫶🏻

million dollar man | derek danforth x reader - part 2

thank you so much anon!!! so glad you liked it! :') hope you enjoy this part! <3

word count: 3.5k

warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!reader (no use of y/n), one reference to being high, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), making out/kissing, hickeys on reader, explicit consent, descriptive fingering & oral (f receiving), overstimulation (in a way), filthy dirty talk, praise w/ hardly any degradation, established control by derek, tiny bit angsty, cute fluff w/ a happy ending <3

for the biggest derek fucker i know, @sugarevans: i hope you love it just as much as i loved writing it for you 🤍

ao3 link | masterlist

read part 1 here! a lot of things might not make sense if you haven't :)

You never thought you’d ever be in this position.

Making out with Derek Danforth; hands gripping every inch of your body, high out of your mind, is something most wouldn’t ever imagine doing.

Yet, here you were, doing just that.

And hell, was it better than you ever imagined.

His lips were like fire on yours, burning you up and up the more he hungered for your kiss and touch. He was eager; desperate to taste you and everything you had to offer, something that he’s wanted for as long as he could remember.

Ever since he first saw you, he knew what he wanted, and now that he could finally have it? Nothing was stopping him.

“D-Derek,” You gasped once his lips pulled away from yours, giving you a second to breathe as your back pressed into the luxurious couch, his body on top of you, “You’re okay with this, right?”

You wanted to make sure, despite how eager you were yourself. You couldn’t help but overthink it, fighting between not wanting to give yourself to the selfish man in front of you, and wanting to give yourself up completely.

Now, all of those months convincing yourself that you didn’t want him were for nothing.

And, God, were you fucking okay with that.

He gave you a grin, letting out a small chuckle as he shook his head, almost as if you were crazy for even asking him that. “Been waiting for this forever, baby.. ‘Course I fucking am,” He breathed out, pressing kisses on your lips that slowly began to trail downwards; to your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending chills throughout your entire body.

You were sensitive when it came to his touch, and along with his kisses, his wandering hands couldn’t help but feel for every single part of you. One of his forearms held him up, keeping him steady as the other reached for your jaw, lifting your head up so he could have more access to your skin.

You shuddered at the feeling of his soft lips on your neck, forcing a light moan out of your mouth as he started to suck and lick, warning you of a feeling that was all too familiar.

You breathed heavily, letting out a small, “Wait,” as you attempted to relax. “I c-can’t.. go out like that if you.. do that,” You protested, hoping he understood what you meant.

And that, he did.

He pulled away for a split second, eyes looking up at you as he asserted himself confidently, the same Derek you’ve always known. “Yeah, you can, baby. Need to make sure everyone knows you’re mine now. That clear?”

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to protest again, but you don’t get very far. He tuts his tongue, expressing his disapproval as the action forces your mouth shut, “Nuh uh. You’re gonna let me do this, sweetheart. Been waiting too long now,” The hand on your jaw grips it just enough to make you focus on him, “Do I make myself clear?” He says, pausing with each word to enunciate it.

You nod immediately, every ounce of resistance you had in you disappearing as butterflies filled your stomach.

Normally, you’d put up a fight and maybe even walk out of a circumstance like this; But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like this side of him.

The Derek that just takes and takes. Nothing you can say no to, and willingly, you’d allow.

“Need to hear you,” He instructs, voice stern as his eyes lock into yours. Derek may be the type to always want control, but he wouldn’t ever do anything you weren’t completely okay with.

You exhale softly and nod again, complying, “Crystal clear.” Your eyes flicker from his lips, lingering there for a moment before finding his eyes again, “Make me yours.”

The strict expression on his lips immediately shifts into a smirk, those words giving him every ounce of motivation to finish what he started.

He pushes himself up for a second and presses one long kiss to your lips, filthy and passionate as ever, muttering, “That’s my girl,” before finding himself back on your neck, doing exactly what he’s intended to do for months.

With your heavy breaths and gasps of his name filling his ears, he accomplishes the task easily; leaving a trail of hickeys all around your neck and cleavage, hands gripping your tits through your shirt. The swelling of the marks that his lips captivate leave you wanting more.

More than just his lips.

You take the chance to stop him, gently pushing his head away as you whine softly, “Need more, Derek.”

He shushes you, nearly reading your mind as he begins to lower himself, keeping eye contact with you. He lifts your shirt up as he moves, exposing your stomach to press kisses along the skin, until he finally reaches the one spot he’s fantasized about for so long.

The action and the thought of what he might do to you leaves your body shuddering, anticipating his next move. You’d let him do anything he wanted now.

He slowly unbuttons your pants, taking his time as if his eyes were memorizing every second of it. You help him slip them off, lifting your hips so he can easily remove them, the cool air in the room hitting your exposed skin. You feel yourself grow wetter, desperate for him to do something, anything to you.

He takes no time to waste putting your pants aside, kneeling in between your thighs and spreading your legs. His gaze flickers from your face down to your panties, chest moving up and down as he processes the sight in front of him; your darkening eyes, legs wide open for him. 

Oh, what a beauty you are.

You await his next move, biting your bottom lip as you feel your core tighten, and he finally moves; taking his hand and sliding his fingers over your clothed cunt just for a second, feeling you for the first time. You shudder, gasping at his touch as your arousal seeps through your panties. You’re growing impatient, squirming with need.

“F-Fuck, Derek, touch me, please,” You whine, hips moving a bit to get any type of friction. He just presses down on your stomach, keeping you still as he tuts. “Shh, baby. Gonna take my fuckin’ time with you. Make you feel real good, yeah?” He states, using his other hand to cup it over your cunt.

It makes you gasp, body shaking from the sudden contact again. You press your lips together, quickly nodding as you accept his terms. You couldn’t possibly say no, anyways.

“Now,” He pauses, “Close that pretty mouth of yours n’ take what I give you,” He mutters sternly, but he isn’t done. “I’m gonna tell you what I’m gonna do to you, and you’re gonna be a good girl for me. Is that right?” He asks, fingers rubbing ever so softly against you.

You nod, shakily agreeing as you hold back from moving, “T-That’s right.”

He grins. “Good. You’re real pretty when you listen to me.”

You breathe shakily, stomach fluttering from his words and watching as he lowers to lay himself directly in between your thighs, hands now gripping them with his head facing you.

“Am I not when I don’t?” You retort, taking your chance to bite back.

He chuckles, “You know you’re more than pretty, baby.. I just like you like this more.”

You wouldn’t expect any less from him and his need for you.. And, if anything? It makes you want to be more like this for him.

“Giving yourself up to me..” He hums, caressing your thigh sensually and slowly, eyes devouring you, “Now, doesn’t that feel so much better?”

Before you can respond, his thumb slides from your inner thigh to slip underneath your panties, feeling for your slick slit as you hiss at the sudden contact, skin to skin. Fuck, he was unpredictable.

You gasp softly, walls involuntarily clenching around nothing. The way he was talking to you.. It was driving you crazy.

“No more talking back, no more excuses.. Now that I got you like this, honey. Just how it should be.. How you’re meant to be.” He continues, making your heart race. You were giving yourself up to him the more he spoke; the more he made you realize just how much you needed him, too.

The powerful, superior version of yourself.. crumbling all by the hands of the man who wants to see you break.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart..” He tells you, eyes on your face as his thumb slides through your folds, “’M gonna eat you out and make you cum on my tongue..”

The tip of his thumb sinks inside of you, forcing a moan out of your mouth. You need more, breathing heavily as you process his words, envisioning all the things he’s putting inside of your head.

“And then, I’m gonna do it.. Again, and again, until you can’t anymore.”

His thumb then slips out of you, moving and using his fingers to hook itself at the hem of your panties, pulling them off of you roughly. It’s quick and seamless, leaving you completely exposed for him, legs spread wide enough for him to fix on your glistening core immediately.

His fingers glide in between your throbbing lips, soaked beyond your control as he grunts at the sight and feeling. “Fuck yeah, baby.. So fuckin’ wet, shit.”

He can hardly control himself, slowly inserting two of his thick, long fingers inside of you, the lewd sound coaxing a laugh out of his throat. He pumps his fingers deliberately, eyes indecisive on where to linger; your face or your cunt. He picks the latter, gaze fixed on your walls gripping his digits, memorizing the way you take them, squelching and slick with your arousal.

Your pants drive his movements faster, moaning his name softly as your core tightens each time his fingers slowly begin to fill you to the hilt, knuckle-deep inside of you. 

You whine loudly, incoherent noises escaping your lips as you look down at him, squirming. “There we go, baby.. Look at how good you’re takin’ it.. pretty pussy begging for more.” He praises, taking his sweet time to pull his fingers out of you, watching how your hole closes from how empty you are.

Before you can register the feeling, he leans forward, sticking out his tongue to lick a stripe against your folds, the tip of it hitting your swollen clit. It makes your body jolt, the shock of the sensation igniting your nerves. It’s been a long fucking time since you’ve felt this good.

He moans out, breath hitting your cunt as it sends shivers down your spine. “Tastes fuckin’ good, baby.. Gonna fuck you with my tongue now, yeah?” He mutters, words hardly coherent enough for you before he latches his mouth around your clit, sucking it softly. 

You cry out at the feeling, involuntarily squirming away as it overwhelms you. He was so fucking quick; desperate and needy. Before you could pull away from him, his arms wrap around your thighs, roughly pulling you close. He traps you with his hold, tongue now exploring your folds and devouring you like a starved man.

“Derek! O-Oh, fuck!” You groan, shutting your eyes tightly as your body overtakes you, short and quick breaths filling his ears. You feel him chuckle, sending small vibrations through your core as he slides his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out of you. His thumb then moves up to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against it, wanting to feel you shake.

And, you do, as your walls clench around his tongue, body writhing hastily, overwhelmed with pleasure and that familiar build growing inside of you. Your hand reaches for his hair, gripping the bleached locks that give you a single ounce of control.

Your grasp allows you to push his face further into your cunt, grinding yourself against his mouth as you chase your high, crying his name out as if it were the only word you knew. Your stomach fills with warmth, breaths quickening as you cum shakily on his tongue without any warning.

You moan out his name one last time, convulsing around him as you increasingly grow sensitive, releasing your grip on his hair. He doesn’t let up though, and your nerves gradually become delicate, forcing a whine out of you; a protest. “N-No.. No more, Derek, fuck, I c-can’t, please.” You stammer out, trying to writhe away from his grasp.

He only takes a second to pull away from you, shaking his head disapprovingly as he pulls you back to him, reestablishing his grasp on your thighs even tighter than before.

He looks up at you, eyes hungry for more, “That was only one, honey. Not enough. C’mon, know you can give me another, yeah.. Just one more..” He encourages you, using one of the hands wrapped around your thigh to give it small rubs, soothing your trembling body.

Your body involuntarily twitches, overstimulated from your first orgasm and the continuous contact on your skin. You just nod at him though, letting out a small “okay” so he can verbally hear it; something you’re starting to know that he likes from you.

He grins up at you, evidently satisfied at your actions. “There we go, you’re getting it now.. Such a good fucking girl.”

His praises cause your face to heat up, his approval of you becoming the one thing you never thought you’d need from him.

Turns out, you’re finding out a lot of things about yourself tonight that you didn’t know.

You take a deep breath in preparation, watching one of his arms unrestrain your thigh, hand moving towards your core. He glances back to your face, then to your pussy, pressing the tip of his index and middle finger to your entrance. You watch his face as he licks his lips, pressing them in slowly, almost excruciatingly slow.

You whine, the force of his fingers making your walls constrict around them, and your heart beats rapidly everywhere. You’re still tight, and he can feel it too.

He lets out a laugh as his eyes flicker to your face to watch it twist, and it feels mean. “You’re still so fucking tight, holy shit,” He chuckles again, fingers pulling out of you to rest against your hole, and shoving it back in deliberately. You cry out his name, incoherent words spilling out of your lips as you squirm away from him again.

He mutters out, “No, no, no, stay here, baby, come on,” and his large arm reaches to grip your waist, pulling you back to him once again. His forearm stays against your stomach now, pinning you into the couch so you can’t possibly move away. “Yeah, yeah, there y’go.” He draws out.

“Just gotta let yourself go, sweetheart.. Don’t fight it, c’mon..”

Your eyes shut tightly, and you listen to him, letting yourself go. The control in your body begins to fade, and he takes it as a sign to continue; fucking his thick fingers back into your cunt with an increasing pace and force.

You feel so full with him, but just as you think that, he adds a third finger, stretching you out further as he quickens his thrusts.

The lewd noises fill the room, your soaked folds flowing onto his hand and growing louder the faster he moves. Your pussy takes his fingers eagerly, engulfing them seamlessly. “Wish you could see what I’m seein’, honey.. Your cunt gripping every inch of my fucking fingers, fuck, so fuckin’ pretty. Doing so good, baby, I know it feels so good, huh?” His words are too much for you, along with his fingers moving so fast from how soaked you were. 

They start to pound into that one spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you convulse around them, body twitching, but hardly affecting Derek from his harsh grip on you. It keeps you still for him, never stopping his moves as he lets out whispers of encouragement to you, praising you absentmindedly and breathing heavily against your cunt.

“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, baby, cum on my fucking fingers, please.” He whines out, his hips grinding against the couch, almost as if he was getting off to your own pleasure. You shake against him, chest heaving up and down as that heat in your core builds and builds, finally releasing as you climax with his name on your tongue.

You nearly scream it, unable to control yourself as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your walls clenching around his fingers over and over again uncontrollably. He stops his movements now, letting you come down from it slowly, pulling his fingers out of you as you tremble.

As you take deep breaths, heartbeat slowing, you flutter your eyes open to look at Derek, watching as he inserts his fingers in his mouth to taste you. He pulls them out with a pop and moves himself to lay over you, using his clean hand to move your hair out of your face.

He praises you, pressing a small kiss to your forehead with his eyes looking at you with so much pride. “Did so fucking good for me, baby. Knew you could do it, fuck yeah.” He hums, now pressing a kiss to your lips.

You accept it greedily, placing your hands on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Your feelings for him were overwhelming; one night of pleasure causing you to confront every thought & emotion you’ve ever had of him. And the way he was treating you now? God, it made it even harder for you to feel subtle about it.

And, maybe.. Just maybe.. it was because he was the best fuck you’ve ever had.

But, despite how sensitive you were, you couldn’t help but want more. And besides, you wanted him to feel good too, after bringing you so much satisfaction.

“Thank you, Derek.. B-But, what about you?” You asked shakily, body still trembling from your peak. He shook his head, caressing your face gently as he spoke, “Nah, baby, this was all about you.. It’s always been.. about you. To make you feel good.”

You let out a small laugh and shook your head yourself, in denial of it all. Did he really care for you this much?

Before you can ask him anything, he continues, spilling out every ounce of vulnerability he could allow himself to. “Took my chance after waiting all these months. I couldn’t just let myself be so.. selfish.. Not this one time.. Yeah?” He cocked his head, trying to see if you understood or not. He seemed almost jittery; nervous and anxious to even be telling you this.

You knew he was taking such a big leap to be telling you these things.. To be acting this way. 

It didn’t go unnoticed by you at all.

You took the chance to joke with him, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Derek Danforth.. Not.. being selfish? Never thought I’d see the day.” You giggled, hoping he’d take it how you intended it to.

His head lowers to look down at your hands on him for a second, licking his lips as he takes his time to think about what to say to you. He takes a deep breath, looking back up at you as he sighs out.

“I’m trying..” He pauses, inhaling sharply, “Not.. to be.”

Your smile fades from your face, lips parting as you take in his words. It hits you, making you realize just how much he’s trying.

“At least.. Not with you, baby,” He purses his lips, swallowing, “Don’t wanna be selfish with you.. Not.. not anymore.”

You give him a small, gentle smile, nodding slowly in hopes to encourage him. You want him to open up to you; it’s all you’ve ever wanted from him.

“Derek, I..” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I know I.. I’ve been an asshole, to everyone, to you.. But, I don’t wanna be the guy.. That doesn’t deserve you anymore,” He admits quickly, almost wanting to rush it out before he bails out on it.

“I-I.. want to be the guy that does.”

He finally confesses it.. the one thing that’s been holding him down; the one thing that he’s finally managed to realize.

It wasn’t just you that captivated him.

It was the drive to change for you that did.

You let out a relieving breath, shutting your eyes as you press a passionate, genuine kiss on his lips. He takes it gratefully, sighing into your mouth as if the weight of the entire world was lifted off his shoulders.

You pull away from him, grinning as your glazed eyes glimmer at him.

“That’s a start, baby.. You’re already a mile ahead of that.” You tell him, honest and real; vulnerable yourself.

Maybe, Derek Danforth was more than capable of change.

Maybe.. Derek Danforth wasn’t so selfish after all.

Now, it was your chance to find out.

-

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i loved writing this and i might add onto it when writing for derek again to stay in this little world! :)

feedback & reblogs are always greatly appreciated <3

[pterodactyl-hater]

Just not him

・❥・ Your situationship doesn’t like that you were seen with another man

・❥・word count: 1.2k

・❥・warnings: Homelander and The Deep (they’re their own warnings), fade to black smut, Homie is a little toxic, supe!reader

・❥・I don't write smut because I'm not good at it, but I'm not good at it because I don't write it, a viscous cycle.

Also sorry if this doesn't make much sense I was in and out of consciousness while writing 😝

"No. No way am I doing that."

"(Y/n), your sexuality is part of your brand. May I remind you your approval rates are going down by the minute." Madelyn sighs.

"Yeah, I get that, but you expect me to go out there and flirt with The Deep? I'd be making a fool of myself." Your cheeks are hot as you try to defend yourself.

"Ah, ah, you'd be making a spectacle, and that's exactly what we need right now. Drama, scandal, rumors."

"And it has to be him?" You deadpanned. "It can't be anyone else? What about Homelander?" You felt yourself becoming desperate.

“Homelander? And you?” A smile breaks out on her face, but she tries to hide it. “I don’t mean any offense, but you two aren’t an ideal pair up.” She talks to you like you’re a child. You fight the urge to tell her that you and Homelander are actually a very good pair. “Anyways, recently you and The Deep have been trending, as a couple.” You scoff.

Recently on a podcast with some man you’re sure is very popular in a different crowd, The Deep confessed that he found you to be the most attractive member of The Seven. Ever since then a burst of videos were posted of cute moments between the two of you, which turned into edits, which turned into fan art, which turned into fanfiction. You fought the urge to gag, who even makes that stuff? From a marketing perspective, it made for great business, a romance angle brought new eyes to the scene. To you, it was demeaning.

“Fine. But I’m not going to take this any further than a few flirtatious remarks at tomorrow’s gala.” You remind yourself it’s not good to anger someone like Madelyn, she’s scarier than she lets on. Madelyn nods and you walk out of her office, much more embarrassed than you were when you entered. As you stormed down the hallway to the safety of your own home, none other than The Deep greeted you.

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive.

“Hey! How are you doing today, cutie?” He starts. He practically salivates as he walks beside you. You feel like you’re gonna be sick.

“I’m not in the mood right now.”

“C’mon, why don’t you let me take you out for a drink or two? We’re supposed to be all over each other tom-“

“Not in the mood!” You cut him off. Your walking increases to practically sprinting until you reach your home. You slam the door shut behind you. You shrugged off your clothes and crawled into bed. No way in hell were you getting out of bed until the last possible minute.

You stood, still as a statue. You wore a deep purple outfit. The silks enveloped your body in a sexy, yet elegant way. You had never felt more bored in your life. The Deep had his hand positioned on your lower back, where it had been all night. You had already talked to everyone important, you made sure the photographers got enough shots of you coquettishly whispering in The Deep’s ear, or leaning on him while being in conversation. You had taken notice to the fact that Homelander had yet to arrive. The gala would be ending soon, and without an appearance from the leader of The Seven himself. His absence further ruined your mood.

You and Homelander were in a bit of a situationship. There was no official label for your relationship. He’d come to your house just to sleep with you one day, then act like you two were strangers the next. You had learned to accept that nothing serious would come from the relationship. But there was still a part of you that wished he had come tonight.

“(Y/n), big smiles.” The Deep reminded. “Why do you look so fucking depressed?” His voice was low enough that it would look like casual banter to any outsider. His hold on the small of your back grew tight.

“Back off and mind your own business.” You said through gritted teeth. You forced a coy smile and blush onto your face as if he had just said something really flustering to you.

“Hey you two!” You felt your brows furrow. Sometime between two minutes ago, when you last scanned the room, and now Homelander had entered, and without you noticing. Your fake smile melted into a real one.

“Homelander.” You greeted. The Deep pulled you in impossibly closer. He didn’t say anything, just nodded. You had a feeling he was scared of Homelander.

“Do you mind if I borrow them?” Homelander asked The Deep. All of you knew it wasn’t a question, just a thinly veiled demand. “You seem to have them chained down.” He laughed, referring to the vice grip currently on your back. After a second the hold was gone, The Deep had already walked off to get himself another drink.

It was just you and Homelander now. He moved close to you to whisper in your ear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked with a plastic smile. You felt your stomach drop.

“My job.” You shot back with an equally fake smile. You watched as his cheeks turned red with anger.

“No.” He grabbed your wrist. “We’re leaving.” You planted your feet in the ground.

“Excuse you?”

“I said, we’re leaving.” He hissed.

“They’ll have my head if I’m seen leaving with you.”

“They can fucking suck it up. I’m The Homelander. I get who I want, when I want. We’re leaving.” He dragged you by the wrist to pull you out the back doors. You were acutely aware that all the photographers turned away their cameras after seeing the expression on Homelander’s face.

The cold night air curled around your exposed skin, but you had no time to even breathe it in before your head hit the wall behind you and Homelander’s lips were on yours. His hands gripped your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You push him away, sucking in deep breaths.

“What’s gotten into you? Why are you acting like this?” You ask breathlessly. You can’t say you don’t enjoy this possessiveness, but he’s never made such a scene for you before, especially in public. He doesn’t answer before pulling you back into another hungry kiss.

He pulls away, his breath hot against your neck. “You’re mine. All fucking mine. No one else can have you, especially not that fucker Deep.” He pants. His grip tightened in a way you’re sure would bruise if it wasn’t for your invulnerable skin. “Fucking say it. Say that you’re mine.” A tone of pathetic desperation creeps into his voice. You smile and curl your fingers in his hair.

You wish Madelyn could see you now. Not a good pair, as if.

“I’m yours, Homelander.” You assure him. He whines against your collarbone. You’re sure tomorrow he’ll go back to pretending none of this happened, but for now you revel in his attention. “Why don’t you show them that I belong to you?”

It’s so petty, just a cheap way to stick it in Madelyn’s face. Homelander grins as he tries to suck a hickey on your neck. Both of your smiles quickly faded at the realization that there’s no way to bruise invincible skin. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Homelander looked up at you with his big blue eyes. You run your fingers through his hair.

“I’m sure you could show them in a different way.” You smirked.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Once More, With Feeling ♡

♡ Pairing: poly!hyunlix x gn!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/angst

♡ Summary: Unable to sleep after a major argument leads to a breakup, you return to a place that's close to your heart to find comfort and end up with something much more special.

♡ Word Count: 1.4k-ish

♡ Warnings: None.

♡ A/N: I was listening to dreamy low-fi indie music and got in my feelings so, like, come get in them with meeee.

It’s 3:23am and you can’t sleep. Two tablets of melatonin, three cups of chamomile tea, and an endless loop of soothing rain sounds have done nothing to change that. Your heart aches, it’s unbearable, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. Rolling onto your back, you rip the covers off, only now realizing how much you’ve been sweating from the anxiety of cycling through last night’s events over and over in your head.

None of this feels real, losing Felix and Hyunjin, the ones you love the most. Maybe it was a bad idea from the start, the three of you being together. Maybe you weren’t as well equipped to keep them both happy as you thought. Every “maybe” hangs over you as if it’s written in glow-in-the-dark paint on the ceiling, taunting you from the void. Does any of it even matter now? Whatever it was that led to the eventual downfall of your relationship, the argument that ended it all, you can’t go back and fix it.

Even still, your heart longs for the possibility that you’ll be together again someday. You’ve always liked to think that when you truly love someone you’ll find each other no matter what, in this life or the next. It could be wishful thinking, the musings of a hopeless romantic. What does it hurt to wish, you figure, if that’s all you have? You take a long, deep breath in, allowing your breath to slowly flow back out as you squeeze your eyes shut. If I lay here long enough I’m bound to fall asleep. Right?

“Fuck it” you groan, popping up out of bed and throwing on your fuzzy bunny slippers. Felix thought it’d be cute if the three of you got matching pairs. You hate how right he was. You’ve been fighting tooth and nail with yourself all night not to drive down to the pier. For years it’s been the destination of endless late-night drives. It’s where you snuck away together when the rest of the world felt like it was too much. Your memories of being there, as much as they might sting, are the dearest things to you and you need to drown yourself in them now more than ever.

So, before you know it, you’re headed out the door pulling a hoodie over your head, car keys in hand, desperately seeking solace in nostalgia. It’s a long, lonely ride to the pier. The combination of empty streets and too-long traffic lights gives you the sense that the world has come to a screeching halt. Whether it has or not for everyone else, it has for you. The light flashes neon green, bringing you back down to earth just as you begin to drift away, and you’re making the right turn that takes you to your usual parking spot. 

Turning the car off, you take a moment to sit and inspect the other cars around you. There are a few on your side, a dozen more on the other, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone out here. Probably all people who live nearby. Confident that you’re alone, the wall you’ve put up comes crumbling down, tears falling down your cheek faster than you can wipe them away. Why am I doing this to myself? You shake your body in what would look to a passerby like a cute, albeit strange, dance of sorts in hopes that some of the emotions overwhelming you will fall away like leaves.

Get it together. Summoning all of the courage you have, you make your way to the stairs leading up to the pier. You almost slip on the gritty, sand-coated steps, but manage to make it to the top without breaking your neck. As you venture forward you already hear the waves crashing to shore. You feel the stars watching you, their gaze intense and overwhelming. Only it’s not their gaze at all. There’s someone at the end of the pier staring back at you, teary-eyed and stunned. That intensity, that overwhelming emotion, it’s his.

Felix? No, no, no. You turn on your heels, racing back to the car before you lose it completely. “Wait!” he yells, running after you. Felix hadn’t expected to see you here either. He’d typed a million text messages asking you to come but he’d deleted all of them, thinking you wouldn’t want to see him with everything being so fresh. He’s been wishing too, as much as you have, and he can’t let this moment slip away. Your car door’s halfway open when he reaches you, your fingers held tightly around the handle.

“Can we talk?” he asks, his hushed voice skimming your neck as he pushes the door closed. You don’t fight him. You don’t want to. The feeling of his chest against your back, the wind blowing his hair so that it tickles your cheek, makes you want to melt into him. Turning to face him, melting is the first thing you do, straight into his arms. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you tight to him, the tension soothed by the simple act of having you near him again. “I’m really sorry” you weep, “I should’ve seen that you weren’t happy.” 

Felix shushes you, his fingers stroking your neck, “Stop, don’t say that. I was happy. Me and Hyunjin…working with each other, we just get frustrated sometimes and it wasn’t supposed to come home but it did. I should be sorry” “What? No invite to the family reunion?” you hear Hyunjin ask and you’re positive that you’re hallucinating. But when you look up he’s standing there staring at the two of you with an expression you can’t quite make out. “I…no…we didn’t…” Felix stutters but Hyunjin’s already walking away, heading for the edge of the pier, ignoring you like you’re strangers.

You’re so much more than that and he knows it. Enough time hasn’t passed for him to erase what you shared from his mind. Even if he could, he wouldn't. Why else would he be here? Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets, stopping to make a half-turn toward you. “If I admit I’m an asshole will you come with me?” “I mean, we already know you’re an asshole so…no” Felix teases, getting a laugh out of both of you. “What if I say I’m sorry and that I’d really like to not be alone…to be with you two?” A long stretch of silence separates his question and your answer.

“Wait up,” you smile, taking Felix’s hand and dragging him along with you to catch up to Hyunjin. Meeting him at the center of the pier, you take his hand too and the three of you walk to the edge together. Any other time the minutes would fly by, all of the laughter and kisses making hours feel like minutes. But, in the presence of lingering pain, minutes feel like hours. “It’s not the same,” Hyunjin sighs, picking at his already chipped nail polish and flicking it into the sea. You want to deny it but you can’t. “No, it’s not.” Felix sits down, crossing his legs as he frustratingly tousles his hair, “So that’s it, then? We’re done?” 

You take a seat beside him on the ground, sick to your stomach at the thought, “I mean, is that what you want?” “Of course not. It’s never what I wanted. We are what I want.” You turn to Hyunjin and he’s already sitting down on the other side of you, his head resting on your shoulder. “Me too” he yawns, “But what about you? It doesn’t matter what we want if you don’t—” “I do. I always will.” Their faces brighten up, even in the midst of their exhaustion. Felix takes his jacket off, gathers it in a little bundle in your lap, and lays down. “Maybe it shouldn’t feel the same this time,” he muses, “We should make it better.”

You pet Felix’s hair, “I’d like that.” Hyunjin nuzzles up closer to you, seconds from falling asleep, “Better sounds nice.” Stroking Hyunjin’s cheek, you lean into him too, every sleep aid you tried kicking in at once. Suddenly the world feels like it’s moving again, bursting with life even in the dead of night.

You’ve always liked to think that when you truly love someone you’ll find each other no matter what, in this life or the next. How beautiful it is that it turned out to be this one after all.

[danikamariewrites]

Taken (part 1)

Cassian x f!reader

A/n: I realized I haven't written much for Cass so I decided he gets a two-parter

You can read part 2 here

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, violence, Beron Vanserra being a dick

The room had gone silent, there was a slight ringing in Cassian's ears. Someone had taken you. Someone had taken you from your home. And he wasn’t there to protect you or stop it or kill the person who dared touch you. You’re his mate, and he failed at the one job he had, protecting you.

“Cassian,” Rhys spoke softly, noticing Cassian's hands were curled into fists at his sides. The red siphons strapped to the back of his hands were glowing as his rage simmered. “We will get her back. Whatever it takes. Azriel should be back soon, he said he has a lead.”

He knew what you would say to him if you were here right now. ‘Don’t worry Cass I’m fine. I can handle myself.’ He knew you could. He had been training you since the mating bond snapped. But you didn’t grow up like him. Training every day, honing your body into a weapon.

You grew up studying history, learning languages, and everything about the courts of Prythian. Your mind was strong. You were witty and the smartest person he’d ever met.

Cassian always joked that he was the brawn to your brains and that’s why the cauldron had mated you. But smarts didn’t always get you out of a sticky situation.

Azriel burst through the door, Feyre and Mor on his heels. Cassian turns to face his brother, his rage nearly boiling under his skin. “Who. Took. Her.” He demanded through gritted teeth.

Azriel took a cautious step forward, putting on the mask of Spymaster, attempting to remove his personal feelings from the situation. “Y/n put up one hell of a fight. The house was a mess but I was able to recover this,” Azriel holds out an armored shoulder plate in his scarred hand. “She knew to leave a clue, Cassian. We’re going to find her.”

Cassian took the armor from his brother, examining it. It was bronze, with the insignia of Berons personal hit squad carved on the curve of the metal. Rhys rounds the corner of his desk to examine it.

“Get Nesta and the Valkyries ready, you two get ready as well,” he says to his mate and Mor. “We need to form a plan,” Rhys commands. “No!” Cassian's booming voice echoes around the office. His family pauses, waiting for him to explode.

He shoves the armor into Rhys’ chest. “I’m not fucking waiting for you. I’m going ahead. I’ll see what we’re dealing with.” He stomps towards the door, Azriel stepping in his way. “Cassian, you know how bad of an idea that is.” Cassian growls at his brother but Azriel doesn’t back down.

“I hate to do this Cass,” Rhys starts, Cassian’s back stays turned to him, “but Az is right. As your High Lord, I am ordering you to wait until we are prepared to leave.”

———

You heard a door open and shut echo across the cavernous dungeon, and a male's angry voice muffled by whispers. You didn't dare open your eyes out of fear the guard stationed at your cell door would announce it. So you lay on the floor, pretending to be unconscious.

It was better to catch people off guard when you could, Cassian taught you that. Cassian! Judging by the small amount of sunlight coming in through the tiny window in the cell, it was late and he had to know you were missing by now.

You had tried to reach out to him through the bond a few times but it was no use. Your abductors had used a lot of Fae Bane to subdue you, and the wards around the Forest House were strong. Beron was a very paranoid person and left nothing to chance.

The male's heavy footsteps approach, accompanied by two other pairs. You tried not to let the scent of your fear be known. “Open the door.” You know that voice. Beron had come to see you himself. Something had to be going on if he was desperate enough to have you kidnapped.

He entered the cell, crouching over you. He grabbed your face, squeezing hard. Your eyes fly open, anger overtakes your features as you struggle to get away. He pulls you into a standing position as he looks down at you. “Now, now y/n. You should know better than to struggle.” you stop, your breathing heavy. You weren't an idiot. You wanted to live long enough to attempt an escape, so you'd obey for now.

Beron roughly pushes your face, letting go. Never breaking eye contact you growl out, “What do you want?” He backhands you across your face so hard you fall, hitting the stone floor. Recovering quickly you scramble away from the High Lord of Autumn clutching at your face. You could feel a large bruise forming.

He stands scowling at you, “It's too early to be taking that tone with me y/n. But I will sate your curiosity.” you push into the damp stone wall, hoping you'd fall through it and escape.

“You are Rhysands go-to for translating languages and whatnot.” ok, so he knew your job title. Big deal. “I've come across something rather rare, my people have looked at it but the incompetent fools failed at translating it. You will translate it for me.” He stares down at you expectantly.

It's clear the other High Lords didn't know about Beron's little find, but you had to make sure. “I take it the other High Lords are unaware of this.” He huffs out a laugh. “No, and it will stay that way. You do serve another purpose being here though.” you tilt your head giving him a curious look.

“Your little inner circle is keeping secrets. I didn't think Rhysand would be so careless but alas, I found this in my idiotic son's study.” Beron takes a crumpled piece of paper from his breast pocket holding it out to you. You lean forward slightly to make out the message.

Shit. That was one of the first letters between Rhys and Eris after Hybern. Shit, shit, shit. And Beron knows they’ll show up for you. It's not a secret you and Cassian are mates. Shit. This is a trap. And you're the bait.

The panic showed on your face as Beron smirked at you, knowing he won. He turns to leave, saying, “I'll send guards for you when I'm ready.” The cell door slammed shut and the guard went back to his watch position as Beron and the other two walked away. He was going to leave you here all night. Just to emphasize how powerless you were in this whole situation.

———

By the time the plan was set and everyone was armed to the teeth Cassian was fuming. Too much time had passed for his liking. He was going out of his mind, thinking of all the negative what-ifs. And he couldn't feel you down the bond.

He had reached out a million times and nothing. It was still there but that wasn't enough for Cassian. If he kept thinking about it he was going to be sick.

Rhys’ voice broke him from his thoughts, “You know what your assignments are. We have no room for error. And remember, this could very well be a trap we're walking into. So stay alert.” Everyone nodded.

The plan was that Azriel would winnow in first, then send the all-clear to Rhys for Feyre and Nesta, then Mor and Emerie. And he and Rhys last. They would sneak into the Forest House from four different spots. Nesta and Emerie would take out guards where they could. Mor, Feyre, and Rhys would keep trouble off their backs and find Eris. And He and Azriel would head for the dungeons to get you out.

Rhys grabbed Cassian's arm. The world fell away, darkness consumed his sight, and then the forest of Autumn bathed in moonlight was around him. The air smelled crisp and earthy.

He took a deep breath and followed his brother toward the Forest House.

———

You couldn't sleep. You tried different spots on the floor but your anxiety kept your heart pounding at the thought of Beron coming back for you.

You were sitting against the wall, knees pulled into your chest. The guard had yelled at you an hour ago for fidgeting too much, so you've been sitting in this position since. You didn't want to see what he would do if you moved around again.

You began absent-mindedly running your fingers against the stone wall. On your second pass over a certain spot, your finger caught slightly. You ran your finger over the spot again. And traced the crack in the wall up and over.

Laying your palm over the space you felt a slight breeze. This wasn't just a crack in the stone, it was a door to a secret passage. At that moment something in your brain clicked. You've studied every High Lord in Prythian, even the layouts of their houses.

You knew exactly where this passage led. The guard was your only problem. You could do this. Cassian taught you how to sneak up on people. You just had to stay calm.

You moved into a crouching position and slowly made your way over to the bars. His quarterstaff was held lax at his side. You stuck a hand through the bars grabbing the staff. Before he knew what was happening you brought the staff up to his throat. Grabbing the other end you pulled him against the bars, choking him until he passed out. You let him down slowly, so his body didn't make noise.

You push and push against the secret door. After a few minutes, it finally gives in. You start crawling in the dark and dusty passageway. It clearly hadn't been used in centuries.

You didn't want to get ahead of yourself, but this escape route was looking promising.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane

[mattsgirlie]

never existed - chris sturniolo x fem! reader

warnings: pure smut, mentions of cheating, dom!chris, degradation, slight angst if you squint

word count: 800-ish

"it's all for you chris....shit i-im all yours"

It wasn't true, he knew it wasn't but it really didn't make a difference, not when she sucking him off like no one ever did after sneaking out off her boyfriends room, his brothers room in the middle of the night and in the other day, with the guilt consuming her she would pretend like he never existed.

Was becoming a habit, after Matt and Y/n had a fight a month ago and she went to sleep with Chris in his room in a crying mess and he took her in, he always felt attracted to her and the conversation about how he could treat her so much better lead them this point.

Y/n's pov:

Things with Matt were never the same after our last huge fight and i knew what i was doing with Chris was wrong in many ways but i can't help myself when Chris is just perfect for me, he gets my needs and desires and does it just the right way to keep me under his spell

"Fuck, princess just like that..." He said caressing my face looking down at me in lust and pure desire "You look so perfect on your knees for me, ma...oh shit" He added, eyes rolling back while his hands gripped my hair in a sloppy ponytail, staring to push himself inside my mouth down my throat while groaning in pleasure whilst i moaned around his throbbing dick.

Suddenly he pulls me out roughly by my hair with a wet sound making me stare at him "Does he make you feel that good huh?" He asks with lust in his eyes and i am a whining mess "Does my brother get you on your knees grinding down his shoe like a little desperate slut?" I didn't even realized i was doing that until he pointed it out so and i almost instantly felt my cheeks hit up in embarrassment

"N-no Chris....f-fuck only you get me like this, i would do anything for you so please fuck me....i need you inside so bad" i grinded harder seeking some friction on my swollen clit

"Fuck, you're so horny" he groans feeling his cock throbbing "Get up here baby....let me make you feel good" He pulls me onto his lap on his bed and i moan at his sudden action and the sweet nickname, Chris would never say it all loud but he felt just as good to say as i felt for hearing "Mhmp...Chris please!" i whined impatiently as i was placed on top of his erection but he wasn't inside me yet and got a slap on my left thigh in return "Don't be a desperate slut Y/n im fucking warning you"

Before i could answer i felt him slamming inside of me with no mercy in a infamous pace and i whimpered, too lost in my pleasure at this point only chasing my orgasm "Keep your mouth shut if you don't want him to find out" He warned in a cocky smirk focusing on thrusting his hips up with his hands gripping my waist, surely leaving marks "I don't care! I don't care if he finds out....fuck! I want you Chris i-" I gasped as he reached the right spot the got me seeing stars whilst kissing that sweet spot in my neck only he knew.

Chris was surprised by my words and it only made him ruthless and more full of himself "Yeah? You don't care if Matt finds out that i fuck you better? that you would dump him in a second if i asked you to do so? huh?"

He groaned in my ear as he felt his high approaching quickening his pace and i was crying in pleasure "You're that much of a slut that you want him to know im the only one that gets you crying over my dick begging to cum for me?" That was all i needed to cum around him in a loud cry for his name, my walls clenching around him was enough for him to cum as well filling me up territorially marking me as his own.

As we both went off our highs i felt that familiar wave of guilt washing me over "Chris....you- i...we can't do this again i-" i stutter and he just rolls his eyes and laughs while dressing up "Cut the shit ma, you always say that" He hands me the shirt i was wearing noticing it was Matt's and he huffs ironically

"Then you guys fight because he treated you like shit again and you crawl your way right back into my bed asking me to make you cum because he is too stupid to do so and no one can make you feel this good" He shoved my panties into one pocket of his sweatpants in a taunting smile leaving me without words as i felt tears rolling down my face realizing he was right

"Face it mamas, you can't live without me"

writer notes: this is my first time posting a fic in a long minute so let me know what you think, all the love 🩷

[mirandasidefics]

But Home is Nowhere- Part 5

Lucien x Plus Size Reader, Azriel x Plus Size Reader

Part 5 Summary: After a fight with Lucien, Reader gets to know and bond with the others. Feyre gives her job and she is finally allowed to return to Velaris.

Author's note: So my chapters are likely just going to be between 3k-4k words from now on. Which just means more chapters in the long run, lol. There's some slight Ruhn x Reader, if you squint. Mainly because I have no clue where the terms of endearment came from at the end. I may explore that further in a side story...

Warnings: Angst, accidently injury.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

**********************************************************************

Feyre and Nyx spent two weeks at the Moonstone Palace with you and those from Midgard. With her there to oversee things, she had sent Lucien back to the Spring Court and Mortal lands to resume his emissary duties. And after your little spat with him, he was all too quick to leave.

“What the fuck Lucien?!” You didn’t give him a chance to breathe after shutting the door to your room that night. You watched as his full lips opened to protest, but you weren’t going to let him. The sting of a betrayal from his lack of confidence in you hurt too much. “First you tell people my personal matters without my permission, then scold me like a child!” The argument had been brewing in you all afternoon. The way he spoke to you, spoke about you, in front of the others had your blood boiling. Did he think that you were a child in need of being reprimanded for speaking out of turn? All you did was point out what that fucktard-

“(Y/N) it wasn’t-,” He followed you into the room.

“I understand informing the healers about my nightmares, but everyone else?” You skirted away from him. You were too pissed off to want to be near him right now. “They are strangers to me, Lu!” You continued to rant, not paying attention to his attempts to speak.

“I am aware of that, but-”

“Are you aware? I am a grown woman, and yet you treated me as if I were some fragile child,” You felt the tears sting your eyes, “Is that what I am to you? I’ll have you know I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Of course, not-” He reached out towards you.

“And I wasn’t threatening Bryce. I didn’t do anything wrong by pointing out the fact that Rhysand nearly killed me due to my lack of knowledge about her.” You began to pace along the side of the bed.

“No one is saying you did,” He took a few steps closer.

“Then why speak to me that way? As if what I said was not supposed to be mentioned,” You whirled towards him.

“(Y/N), can you please let me explain?” He grabbed your elbow in an effort to get you to stop your pacing. But neither your nightmares nor Bryce were the real issues that plagued your racing thoughts. The male before you had violated your trust in the one way that you feared the most. 

“You let him into my room Lucien!” You pulled out of his grasp, your voice cracking with the pained revelation. “The one person that I can’t feel safe around. You let him in! You let him see how weak he has made me! I don’t need others knowing…I don’t want others knowing…” You had just barely gotten used to the idea of Lucien seeing you in such a vulnerable state. The thought of others knowing how broken Azriel made you…

“You know what, I should just take care of myself from now on,” You weren’t even convinced by your own words as you quickly brushed away the tears before they had a chance to fall.  

“I am just trying to help,” He raised his hands in a form of surrender. “They need to see your pain.”  

“My pain?” Something in your chest twisted and cracked. “What do you know of my pain?” Hot rage filled tears broke free and streamed freely down your cheeks.

“(Y/N),” Lucien’s deep timbre was like a caress, one that was desperate to get you to understand. “Feyre and the others…They need to know the extent of what has been done to you.”

“My pain is not yours to exploit!” You didn’t want to understand. You wanted to be angry. Anger filled you with a fire that allowed you to hide the hurt and fear.

“Exploit?” He dared to look personally offended. “Do you…I don’t want to help you-” Your mind, a whirlwind of rage, had it been in a better state would have let him finish his sentence.

“Then don’t!” You wanted to take back the words as soon as they formed on your lips. Darkened feelings swirled and tunneled up from the recesses of a deepening crevice that you thought you had blocked access to years ago. It clouded everything and brought up old insecurities. Ones that you didn’t want to acknowledge were playing out in front you at this very moment. You had always hated feeling dependent upon others. Hated the feeling of being a burden, and you could clearly see that you were just that to Lucien. Of course, he didn’t want to be here. He had other more important duties than to babysit the broken human girl. He had friends, a family, and a mate. All of whom were much more important to him than you.

“I don’t need your pity,” You spat, your voice thick and rough with your own self-loathing, “I don’t need your help. I don’t need you!” But you did need him, and that terrified you.

“(Y/N),” His russet eye filled with regret. “I-I didn’t mean…”

“Yes, you did,” You whispered. Your jaw was tight as you tried to keep your lip from trembling.

“(Y/N)…” His voice was soft, and your heart cracked again.

“Don’t lie to me!” You sobbed, arms wrapping around your middle. The room was silent for the span of a heartbeat.

“Fine,” He spit back at you, losing his usual composure as he stormed towards the door, “You’ve clearly made up your mind on the intention of my actions. I’ll leave you to your misery as you wish.”

You had cried yourself to sleep that night. While you tried not to let his absence get to you, the next few nights spent alone were filled with terror. You had barely slept, even with the aid of the sleeping tonic that was provided with by the healers. The nightmares had only continued to rip you from slumber within minutes of drifting off. All the tonic did was paralyze you inside your body, while the shadows took the forms of monsters drenched in moonlight. The warmth and light that Lucien brought you was now gone. So, to avoid the nightmares you avoided sleep. And the best way to do that meant keeping yourself busy.

To you, keeping busy also meant making yourself useful. So, you went to see what assistance you could provide to those from Midgard. Which really just ended up being Ruhn as you wanted to give the mated couple their space. It took two days for him to say anything to you after that initial meeting. And while you wanted to ask him what his issue was, it appeared that it was a story he was not willing to speak on just yet.

Once you started talking, you got along surprisingly well with the male. He was easy to talk to, just as Lucien had been. The two of you shared a similar sense of humor, slightly sarcastic and just on the verge of being dark.  He was more open than Bryce was about life on Midgard, which you were able to confirm had similar technological advancements to your own world. Although, you had been disappointment to learn that their technology was powered by Firstlight and not electricity. Which to you, Firstlight just sounded like magic. Which left you to conclude there was no way to power your own cell phone once the battery was fully drained. The portable charger you had ran out of juice the night before after fully charging the smart device. Now, you had approximately 75% battery left. Still, you used some of the power it had left to share your musical tastes alongside Bryce and Ruhn. Nesta had been just as curious as to the music of your world, noting how there were similarities between all three of your respective worlds. Primarily in regards to the "classical" genres. Overall, you felt comfortable and at ease around Ruhn. Surprisingly, when you first saw the misty shadows that curled around him, you hadn’t recoiled from their touch when he demonstrated his ability to utilities them. There was a completely different feel to them compared to Azriel’s. You attributed that to a clear lack of sentience, which allowed them to feel warmer somehow. Despite the budding friendship, you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to share your vulnerabilities with Ruhn. You weren’t ready to make the same mistake of letting someone in too quickly as you had with Lucien. Not when it was clear they wouldn’t be sticking around long enough for it to even matter.

When those from Midgard were busy, you then assisted Feyre with Nyx. It started after he had a particularly difficult day with teething. The three of you had been eating lunch when the child continued to cry. You could tell the new mother was starting to become flustered as she bounced and shushed him. But nothing she did appeared to sooth the child. You had noticed the way he chewed on his balled-up fist and asked if you could try something. While she was hesitant, Feyre handed you the 11-month-old babe. You took a cloth napkin and dipped it in your water glass before asking the High Lady to slightly freeze the fabric. Once frozen, you wrapped it around your pinky finger and stuck it in the wailing child’s mouth, making sure to gently massage the back part of his gums. He quickly took over chewing on your finger and finally started to settle. Your make shift teething toy worked as well as you had hoped, but it was when you started to sing that had endeared you to the boy. Feyre had sat in awe at how quickly Nyx calmed and studied you with rapt attention. The soft melody floating on the wind and the warm timber of your voice entranced the child. That was all it took to win him over. At each subsequent meal, after you had finished eating, Nyx would stretch his arms out towards you. Which quickly lead to his wanting to be held by you every time he saw you. Your mealtime songs soon became bedtime lullabies. By the end of the first week there was no doubt that Nyx absolutely adored you, and you adored him in return. It was due to your fast and unique bond with the child that Feyre offered you the position of being a part-time nanny and offered you a room in their Town House in Velaris.

Which is where you found yourself now, tucked into a bedroom that reminded you more of the simplicity of your apartment rather than the opulence of the Moonstone Palace. Rhysand had not been too happy, but relented when his mate insisted. She had later explained that she had showed him her memories of you with Nyx and how important it would be for her to get back to her duties as High Lady, if even just on a part time basis.

You had just finished hanging up the last of your dresses when you heard Cassian’s booming voice echo up the staircase quickly followed by Nesta instructing him to keep his voice down lest he disturb you. Their voices were soon followed by Bryce and Hunt’s greeting towards Rhysand. You heard the door to the High Lord’s office shut and the hall was silent yet again. You decided that now was as good a time as any to get a glass of water and an apple from the kitchen. It wasn’t that you were avoiding-actually that was a lie. You were avoiding two individuals specifically. You had yet to speak with Rhysand since he had stopped your bleeding all those weeks ago. And you had not seen Azriel, despite the fact that he had seen you. You didn’t know what you would do, or how you would react if you saw the Shadowsinger. You had nearly gone into a full blown panic attack at the sight of Cassian, who had merely resembled Azriel at first glance. The only thing that had kept you from crashing down into that pit was Lucien, who was now back to residing in the Mortal lands on the opposite side of the small continent of which Prythian was located.

You descended the staircase as quietly as you could, fearful that someone would come out to investigate any noise. You doubted your stealth abilities though. It was likely that someone picked up your presence as the voices died down when you began your descent and picked back up when you made it to the landing near the foyer. Once in the kitchen it wasn’t difficult to find what you needed. You were grateful for the fact that the town house had running water from what appeared to be modern style plumbing. You filled a glass from the tap and drank about half in one large gulp. You filled it to the top again and grabbed an apple from the countertop before you made your way back up the stairs. This time you didn’t bother to hide your footsteps. Which oddly enough, seemed to have not been heard given the muffled cacophony of voices from inside the office. You paused just two steps below the doorframe when you heard your name.

“I can’t believe that you still feel threatened by her,” Nesta’s voice was muffled, but you could still hear the exasperated tone. “You are currently the only one that is.”

“Amren and Mor have yet to meet her,” Rhysand’s tenor sounded just as annoyed as Nesta. “I will pass my judgement once they do.” Judgement? You hadn’t even realized that you were on trial. Were you not going to be even granted the opportunity to speak on your own behalf? The nerve of this fucking asshole! But your ire quickly merged into fear. What decisions were there to be made? What sort of sentence awaited you? Would you lose your newfound freedom so quickly? Sent to a lifetime of imprisonment on that desolate inescapable island? Your grip tightened on the glass in your hand.

“You said that the gate we set up was sealed with blood magic,” Bryce spoke up. “That only those who’s blood is keyed in, or even shares a substantial amount of blood to one that is keyed in, can pass through.”

“If that’s the case, I think its obvious as to how she passed through,” Ruhn spoke up. “She’s related to someone in this room, except scary shadow dude there. And Hunt.” Blood rushed in your ears. There was no way, absolutely no fucking way you could be related to any one here. They were all a different species for fucks sake. You were a human from a different world, a different reality. Magic was not the same on Earth as it was on Midgard or whatever the fucking name this planet was called. And even if this was to be believed, that you were somehow related to those that originated on this planet…all it did was explain a portion of the ‘how’ you got here. The ‘why’ was still unknown, and honestly the ‘why’ was much more important.

“How would any of your bloodlines have gotten to her world?” Hunt asked. “Midgard has no records of anyone leaving the planet through the Rifts, with the exception of the armies from Hel. And from what Bryce and your people found under that Prison, the members of that court only traveled to Midgard.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Nesta spoke up. “I have a friend that works in our main library. She’s an assistant to a Priestess that had conducted some research on travel to different worlds. According to what she found, there was a second wave of Fae that went missing a whole generation later, but they were from the large continent to the east of Prythian.”

“Even so,” Azriel’s voice sent a chill down your spine. “Her blood should be too diluted to have triggered the blood seal. She’s mortal, not Fae.” His words were cold, but the truth.  

“What proof do you have of that?” Ruhn challenged. “Did your slicing and dicing of her skin reveal that tidbit of information?”

“Dude,” his sister spoke up, “Chill.” Azriel didn’t respond. You felt the air hum with electricity despite being on the other side of the door. Your breathing became shallow.

“How would anyone go about proving that?” Cassian asked.

“We can in Midgard,” Hunt spoke up. “DNA blood tests are used on Vanir and even those with mixed heritage prior to the Drop.”

“She’d have to go with us,” Ruhn stated. “Which is a huge no-go right now. We, unfortunately, need to lay low for a bit.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? We can’t waste time on figuring out who she is,” Bryce interjected. “We need to find a way to Hel. We need to stop the Asteri before they destroy Midgard and find their way back here. I vote that someone goes to talk to that guy at the lake.” Your stomach dropped, but you were grateful to Bryce. She was right in that you should be the least of their concerns given what you currently understood of their conversation.

“Figuring out who she is may lead us to those answers,” Rhys’ voice remained annoyed. “And no one is to make contact with Koschei until we have that information. For all we know-”

“Stop talking Rhys,” Azriel warned. The next thing you knew the door to the office was flung open and a pair of captivating hazel-green eyes met yours. The glass slipped from your hands and shattered on the stairs. The breath ripped from your lungs as your brain caught up to the fact that Azriel stood in front of you. The apple was next to fall, bouncing down the steps. Your body screamed for you to run, but you could only manage slow movements. Acting on the instinct to not make any sudden movements lest the predator in front of you strike. You backed away down the stairs, one hand glued to the railing and the other the wall.

“(Y/N),” the male before you called out and took a tentative step in your direction. The movement sent your fear into overdrive. Adrenaline rushed through you as you picked up the pace, not daring to take your eyes of the threat in front of you.

“(Y/N) wait,” Azriel called again. His mouth continued to move, but you couldn’t hear him. Your vision blurred and the edges darkened. The center of your chest burned and you couldn’t catch your breath. You dropped your weight into your heel, but it was met with air. The loss of balance causing you to tumble the rest of the way down the staircase. Pain tore at your ankle and raced up to your thigh. You hit the floor of the foyer hard, head cracking against the stone tiles. You felt hands on your arms, but you thrashed against them. You kicked and swung your arms, trying to create any distance you could between yourself and the male that tortured you. Your foot connected with something and you cried out from the searing pain that the impact caused. He was not going to take you back there. You were not going to be taken anywhere without a fight. You felt yourself screaming and you continued to fight off the hands that touched you.

“Hey hey hey,” A gentle deep voice finally reached your ears, “Sweetheart it’s me. It’s okay. It’s just me.” You used your feet to push against the ground, but you couldn’t get anywhere with the pain in your ankle.

“(Y/N), open your eyes,” the voice instructed, “Your ankle’s broken, baby. Stop. Stop kicking. I’ve got you.” You hadn’t even realized that your eyes had been closed. Everything had been a dark blur when you fell backwards. But you complied. You had expected it to be bright when you cracked your eyes open, but instead all you saw was blue. Ruhn sat on the ground next to you, his warm hand pressed against your cheek. You caught a glimpse of Nesta’s golden brown hair as she knelt on your other side. Your eyes met Ruhn’s again and you felt yourself break. Covering your face with both hands you sobbed. The fear, the pain, and the embarrassment that you were yet again crying was too much.

“A healer is on her way,” Nesta’s voice was as equally soft as Ruhn’s, “Let’s get her upstairs.” You winced as your two friends helped you to stand. Each of your arms was placed around one of their shoulders, Ruhn having to bend down slightly given the 4 to 5-inch height difference between you. His arm wrapped around your waist allowing him to take the brunt of your weight.

The trek upstairs wasn’t as painful as you anticipated. The two Fae helped you onto your bed, where you waited for the healer. Luckily you didn’t have to wait very long. The slightly older looking female worked quickly and efficiently in setting your ankle back in place before mending it with magic. Still it was wrapped up tightly to keep it in the ideal position while the bones slowly fused together.

Once she left you asked for some time by yourself claiming that you wanted to sleep. Which wasn’t a complete lie, you were exhausted. You carefully pulled the covers down and tucked your legs under them. The bed was already warm and despite the amount of information that you had taken in just minutes before, your mind drifted off to sleep.

********************************************************************

Part 6

Tag list: @jenniferpendragon @impossibelle @sweet-chai-amore @myheartfollower @iimichie @fightmedraco @nikkitch0703 @eerievixen @ang-taylorsversion @randomness-it-is @thehighlordishere @rachelnicolee @hardcoremarvelfan

[ezzydantes]

Telling the Monster Trio you're pregnant...

Author's note: Just light fluff and lovings from our Monster Trio after you tell them that you are pregnant.

Luffy

You had spent two years with Luffy while he had trained. You had been the one to pick up the pieces after Ace had been killed at Marineford. Your lover had never really been the same after, hellbent on getting stronger so that he didn't have to lose anyone that he loved ever again. He had vowed that he would not lose what was left of his family.... you.

While the thought made your heart swell with love and adoration, it also began to break because of the trauma you had both endured during it. You had fought alongside Luffy as he tried desperately to save Ace. The both of you finding an inner strength that had been hidden and potentiality that needed to be exploited if you two were to carry on in the New World.

Rayleigh had been a saving grace for you both. Teaching you and Luffy the ins and outs of using Haki as well as building on fighting separately and as a team. However, there was one thing he had not been expecting the last six months of his proposed two year training schedule for you both.

"So you're pregnant?" he quietly asked as Luffy slept with his head on your lap, holding your right hand to his chest.

You simply smiled, knowing you couldn't hide the fact from Rayleigh. He had a sixth sense about EVERYTHING it seemed. "Yes... I haven't told Luffy yet because I am not so sure myself...not like we have a doctor here..."

"I can tell you that you are... and I know that you have a well enough intuition being a woman, that you can tell....", he stated matter of factly.

"I know what you are thinking... a pregnant woman at sea is not meant for the future King of the Pirates..." you scoffed as you raked your fingers through Luffy's hair... ensuring he didn't wake up.

"No... what I am thinking is the two of you will need to consider long and hard what a child would do to this dream of freedom that you have. It will definitely nullify it", the elder man raised his eyebrow at you.

"You think I haven't considered that? That I haven't brought up to Luffy that eventually being together the way we are will result in a child? He's well aware...", you whispered as you started tracing your lover's face before leaning down and kissing his forehead, "You can say what you want, Silver King... we will make our way in this world as we always have... together...ALL of us..."

Rayleigh smiled at this. "Then I will only say this... hold onto each other because there will be a time that will either make you both stronger... or break you...."

"Fair enough... ", you smiled as you leaned against the tree and shut your eyes. Luffy turned to sleep on his side and wrapped his rubber arms around you, nuzzling into your hip as he did so. "Mmmm.. I love you, y/n..."

"I love you too, Lu..." you sighed as you began to drift off to sleep.

The next morning Luffy was already awake, trying to find something for the two of you to eat for breakfast. When he returned he gently shook your curled up form. You had at some point nestled down onto the ground from your sitting position against the tree in the middle of the night, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. "Hey! Sleepy head!" he shouted as he threw the large beast he had caught on the ground in front of you. You moaned at him, "I'm still tired Luffy...."

His hand immediately shot to your forehead. You were never one to sleep in, not in all the years he had known you. "Are you sick? Are you okay?"

"Luffy..", Rayleigh warned. Let her sleep... she's tired."

"But we still have training to do...", the young man pouted as he kept feeling all over your face, trying to find any sign of fever.

"Lu... I'm fine... ", you stated groggily as you sat up, "I'm just really tired today."

"You've been acting differently the last few days...", Luffy hinted, "What's really going on?"

You looked to Rayleigh who merely shrugged his shoulders. "It's your business to tell him... so I think I will simply go this way..." And with that their teacher walked towards the jungle without as much as another word. This caused Luffy's eyebrows to raise. "What's going on?"

"Luffy... you know how I told you that if we kept sleeping together...without taking any precaution that there might be a baby born from it?" you started to explain but was quickly shut up by your lover snatching you up and into his lap as he sat down. "Are you pregnant?"

"Possibly... I won't know for sure until we are somewhere that I can be tested...", you began but Luffy immediately shut you up with a kiss. He clung to you tightly like you were the last bit of breath on this Earth. He relented on his passionate kiss and began peppering kisses all over your face, before resting his lips on your forehead. "I thought that might be the case... and if it's true.. I couldn't be more happier..."

His lips speaking those words against your flesh was mind altering. You couldn't help but blush and embrace him tighter to you, eventually burying your face in his chest. "I was worried..."

"I know this is going to be a BIG step for us... and it's going to change a lot of plans... but I am still going to be King of the Pirates....and you will be Queen... we're going to be free for the rest of our lives and our child... will be happier for it", he whispered into the crown of your head, "I always wanted us to have kids... I can teach them all kinds of things!"

His excitement warmed your heart. You took his face into both of your hands as you looked up at him. "Its not going to be easy...", you began but he quickly shut you up yet again with his finger on your lips.

"I am training to be stronger for you and my crew. That includes our baby... I will NOT lose anymore of the ones I love...", he stated very seriously as he pulled you back into his chest, "You, this baby, our crew... you're the only family I have left and I refuse to lose any of you."

You couldn't help yourself and blamed it on the hormones since you were normally not so emotional, but you began to cry and cry and cry... you had never cried so much in your life. "Thank you, Luffy..."

"No... thank you. I have a kid that will grow up to be an even better pirate than me one day!" he began laughing as he wiped your tears away. You could only shake your head and giggle through the sniffles as you buried your head back into his chest.

Zoro

You and Zoro had been in Wano not even a week before you noticed he was enjoying his time there. In all of your adventures and traveling together, you had never seen him more in his element. He had met master swordsmen and craftsmen and looked like a child who had been introduced to a candy shop with no budget to speak of.

It truly warmed your heart to see your lover in his element. but you knew that something might change his attitude. You had recently visited a doctor during one of the few moments that Zoro had left you alone. He had confirmed what you already knew... you were pregnant. It had to be that time a couple of months ago during your reprieve from the crew on your own. Luffy had granted you and Zoro time alone and you had taken off to an island that you had wanted to visit for a while... Grekko.

It reminded you of your homeland that had been taken by the Celestial Dragons long ago to serve as their own vacation spot. It had the bluest waters, the greatest food (many dishes that were from your homeland), and hanging gardens in the central most part of the island. Zoro had taken you to a resort there with the money that Nami had actually helped him save up. She had even talked down the prices so that you two could enjoy more on the amount she had helped him set aside and more.

The view from your balcony in your suite was breathtaking. You could watch the sun rise, the sunset, and even the full moon. He had planned it perfectly so you could see all three based on your descriptions from childhood. He proclaimed to you that he had loved you since he laid eyes on you at 10 years old. Hence why he asked you to remain by his side after Kuina passed. He had considered you HIS since then. Once Luffy was King of the Pirates, which was just a matter of time, he wanted to marry you. After making love for hours that night, Zoro decided he couldn't wait. He wanted you to be his wife then and there and threatened a priest to perform the ceremony. While the both of you wanted your crew there, it was a special moment. You and he had tried to plan things out accordingly throughout your lives, so the spontaneous idea to wed on the island was new for you both. A mutual decison...

You and he had talked about children but agreed to wait until the right time to start having them.... and this was the most inopportune moment to have one. You guys were setting up to go against Kaido... an Emperor and being pregnant during this time was dangerous.

Your thoughts were keeping you from sleeping and nausea was beginning to set in from the stress of it all. You clawed your way out of your husband's embrace to stumble to the toilet where you barfed your heart out. Zoro had naturally woken up from you tearing yourself away from his embrace, so he came to check on you. He was half asleep and naturally grumpy from the way he had been awoken. "Oi..", he called out as he walked up to the scene in front of him.. the gruffness immediately leaving him as he saw you puking your guts out, "Baby... are you okay?"

He leaned down to hold your hair out of your face and crouched beside you at the toilet. He rubbed your back with his free hand and kept reassuring you that you were fine. "Zoro... I need to tell you something..."

"You're pregnant... ", he deduced as he continued to rub your back, "I figured after Grekko... if I didn't get you pregnant then..."

Your green-haired swordsman chuckled to himself when you looked back at him with shock on your face. "Baby... not to brag but I fucked you into that bed so many times and in the hots springs... as many times as I came inside of you, I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a baby..."

"You're not upset?" you questioned. Timing could not have been worse.

"I've always wanted a child with you.... someone to carry on my name in one sense or the other.... to teach the sword... my greatest dream besides becoming the strongest swordsman in the world is having my kid surpass me...", he stated honestly as he wiped your mouth with a wet cloth he had just procured.

"But our lives... your oath to Luffy...", you began but was quickly silenced by him grabbing your face with both hands.

"Luffy will be happy for us... he may be an idiot but he knows good news when he hears it...", he assured as his thumbs began to gently stroke your cheeks. You couldn't help the tears that came slowly at first, until your husband held you to his chest and then it was an all out bawl fest.

"I love you so much, y/n and our child...", Zoro cooed into your hair as he held you tight to him.

Sanji

"I'm pregnant...", you announced in the kitchen early in the morning before the rest of the crew could interrupt the two of you. Sanji immediately dropped the knife he was using to cut up veggies for the omelets he had planned to make. His cigarette dropped onto the floor as he whirled around with hearts in his eyes.

"Y/N LOVE!!!!!" he screamed as he ran to you and engulfed you in his arms, holding you tight to him, "REALLY?"

"Yes... Chopper confirmed it yesterday but I asked him to keep it secret until I could tell you.... are you happy?" you smiled, knowing damn well your man was over the moon about you carrying his child.

"Y/N!!! ARE YOU KIDDING????" the cook shouted as he began twirling you around in his arms.

"BABE!!!" you shouted, "Don't do that!!! I'm already sick to my stomach..."

Your cook immediately stopped and sat you down in a chair. He began feeling your head with one hand and placing his other on your stomach. "I'm sorry... its just..."

You couldn't help but smile as he began to weep. Black Leg Sanji fell to his knees before his lover and held you close so that his face was next to your womb. "I wanted you to carry my children for so long.... ever since the Baratie when I told Zeff I was going to make you mine..."

You hugged Sanji close to you combing your fingers through his hair as you whispered how much you loved him and how you were his completely even before you were pregnant, which caused the man who had always had a stiff upper lip to fall to pieces in your embrace. Between his sobs and declaration of love and protection for both you and your child, he kept rubbing his head against your womb and kissing it reverently.

"Sanji... Baby...", you cooed as you lifted his head up to look at you, "This is going to be hard.. you made an oath to Luffy...."

The cook quickly stood up, never letting his embrace on you break, keeping you and the newly formed life within you close. "I will never let you or our child get hurt... and neither will our crew..."

"I know..", you gently caressed his face, wiping away any stray tears, "Our child will be protected."

"How far along are you?" he quickly changed the subject, "And why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You laughed at his pouting face. "I wanted to be sure and as I said I wanted Chopper to keep it secret until I could tell you.... "

"You don't even know how happy you've made me, Love", the cook pulled you to his chest and kissed the top of your crown, "You've made me the happiest man in the world..."

"Would you prefer it be a boy or a girl?" you innocently asked. He quickly pulled you from him with his hands still gently, but firmly on your shoulders as he looked you straight in the eye. "Be it boy or girl... I am going to love our baby because its ours... yours and mine."

"Shall we tell the others?" you smiled. He grew serious in the moment and picked you up bridal style. "No... I want you both to myself for just a little while longer."

Sanji began to walk to your shared bedroom and ignored some curious glances from your crew mates.

"Hey Sanji! When are you making lunch?" Luffy called.

"Make your own damn lunch... I'm spending time with my family!" the cook growled as he pushed past Franky.

"Whoa what's with the attitude, Bro?" the cyborg asked.

"Y/n is pregnant! She needs rest and I will need to make her a snack...what are you craving, Baby?" Sanji asked as he continued on his way leaving a stunned Franky in his wake.

You couldn't help but giggle at this. "Well I don't know what Baby is craving... but I would like some cucumbers and carrots... with some ranch? Maybe some pickles... oh and lots of water... I've been craving water like crazy....", you began listing off things.

Once inside the room, Sanji stated he would fulfill of your needs and encouraged you to relax and maybe take a nap. Once he was down getting your snacks together he admitted he didn't mind taking a nap with you.

"But what about the rest of the crew?" you earnestly asked. You felt bad if he didn't fulfill his duties just because he knew you were pregnant.

"They know how to fend for themselves and Luffy can't break the lock on the fridge. It was one special request I put in with Franky while he was building the Sunny...." he stated matter of factly.

"Smart man.... ", you teased as he leaned in for a kiss.

"By the way... I know you need your rest but...", Sanji coyly hinted.

"Of course...I heard it was good for the baby and I am already pregnant so...", you wiggled your eyebrows.

"Oh you're going to be the death of me my Love...", the cook grinned as you entered your shared bedroom, "Don't hold back..."

"Wasn't planning on it", you grinned as you squealed from him gently throwing you on the bed and immediately draping himself over you, shirtless. You laughed at the fact that he was quick to get undressed and even more so to have you the same way.

Hours later you two revealed yourselves and announced the joyous news to the rest of the crew, who already had an idea due to Franky freaking out by Sanji's casual statement. The crew celebrated with a party, which Sanji simply sat with you in the corner of the kitchen, enjoying being cuddled up with you and your growing child. He did not drink because he wanted to make sure he was within his senses to take care of you and the baby during the night. You didn't mind his over protectiveness... knowing it would be part of his demeanor from now on being a father. You simply rolled your eyes and enjoyed his embrace, longing looks, and sweet nothings he kept whispering in your ear. You couldn't help but feel overjoyed at the fact that you couldn't have asked for a better partner and the family that you two shared.

[cassiefromhell]

Unexpected (pt. 4)

Part One Part Three Part Five

Fanbase: acotar

Eris x Reader x Azriel

Summary: Your morning has been completely turned upside down, and you have a feeling that your mating ceremony day might get a little... bloodier.

Word Count: 5.2k (this is a longer chapter, go to my poll to vote for longer or shorter!)

Warnings: gore, blood, fighting, suicide, fire/burning

A/N: Requests are OPEN! Check my pinned message for details on what I'll write <3. Additionally, if you're invested in Unexpected, then answer the poll on my profile! It's super helpful when I get responses and feedback, and this poll is part of it. Thank you so, so much for the notes on this lil series! I read all comments and reblogs.

This creature, melded to the dark of the room, breathes on me.

The warm air hits the back of my neck, and I suppress a shiver. 

“Look at me,” it hisses. Mist pools around my hand. “Acknowledge me.”

I stifle a gasp when I realize what I’m facing. 

The Bogge.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and begin to hum to myself softly, pretending like I came here for a reason. Blindly, I cross the room, nearly tripping on something.

“Look, my lady,” it snarls once more, sending hot, humid air through my hair. “I am what you fear. I will kill you. Look.”

“Gotta find that necklace,” I murmur, desperately avoiding acknowledging it as a real creature. Once I do, it’ll actually have the means to hurt — perhaps even kill — me. Stumbling forward, I come into contact with the wall nose-first, then feel it with a hand, pretending to look around.

“You want to look,” it pants once more, and the room goes bone-chillingly frigid. “Look. Admire me. See me. I am real.”

I hum louder, walking along the wall. My head bumps into some sort of a shelf, and I grunt.

Footsteps approach. Those familiar light footsteps.

No.

No, no, no.

Please don’t open the door. Please don’t come in.

Please don’t open the door. Please don’t come in.

Please don’t—

The door swings open.

“My lady,” Fauna says, and I feel her eyes on my back. “I came to— oh.. oh my god..”

“Fauna!” I yell, clenching my eyes shut tighter. “Fauna, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Don’t look.”

But she screams. And there’s a clatter, and then a roar.

Fuck!

I whirl, just in time to see a bony, violent lump of magic and flesh and muscle launching itself at Fauna. She shrieks, stumbling back, but she won’t make it in time. She won’t be able to get away, not from the Bogge.

I snarl, lunging for the creature and intercepting it midair. It hisses and snaps at me, but I manage to pin it to the ground with just raw strength.

Quickly, I give an impossibly sharp tug to both of my mating bonds. I need Eris here, because the Bogge is rumored to only be defeated by High Lords or Ladies. Azriel gets a bonus pull, as a backup because I really need some type of help.

“Fauna!” I roar, struggling against the flapping pile of bones and skin and muscle. “Run! Get help! Call for Eris!”

Fauna nods slowly, stumbling back. She’s clearly in shock.

“Fauna! You need to GO-“

The creature twists my wrist and I cry out, tumbling to the side. Thankfully, Fauna makes a break for it, and now I just have to keep the damn thing contained.

The Bogge bares its rotting teeth at me, and I hiss, lunging for it once more. 

It rolls out of my striking range, then jumps towards the hallway.

“Oh, NO, you fucking don’t!” I shriek, diving onto it. 

This time, my hit lands, and I sink my teeth into the creature’s shoulder and rip. It hisses and snarls, trying to claw at me. I shut it up using a hand, setting my palm ablaze and driving it into the bony flesh of its neck. 

It does not like that.

The Bogge rolls out of my grip, easily dislocating its own shoulder to do so. It plunges out through the door to the hall, and I’m forced to follow it, staggering behind.

Two things happen: one lucky, the other unlucky.

The unlucky thing is that there are servants still in the hall, busy preparing for the ceremony this morning. They scream and drop their things on the ground, some scattering and some lingering to watch.

“Evacuate!” I call out, jumping onto the Bogge and landing a blazing punch to its shoulder. “Clear this wing! Under orders of the throne!”

Shockingly, the servants begin to do as I ask. They don’t seem to mind that I actually don’t have the authority to give crown orders — not yet, at least. They scatter, opening doors and urging others to leave.

Luckily, what Azriel broke was a vase, and there’s a particularly weapon-like shard right next to me.

I snag it off of the fancy rug, which has begun to be stained the dark violet of Bogge blood.

In my distraction, the creature latches onto my back, shoving me to the carpet. I roar as its claws dig into my shoulders, and I feel its breath on my neck.

“Dirty fog bastard,” I snarl, twisting my torso and managing to plunge the glass shard deep into its ribcage.

It meets me with a howl, baring sharp teeth. I bare mine straight back, and twist my makeshift blade. My tight grip on the shard causes blood to bloom on my palm, cutting straight through my skin. I ignore the pain.

My legs kick into action, swiftly pushing me to my feet. The Bogge falls off of me, but is jumping at me in no time. 

I raise a fire wall around us, and suddenly the creature realizes that I am their only opponent. The only obstacle between it and going on a killing spree around the palace. 

The only Fae it needs to kill to gain access to the rest of the palace, brimming with weak prey.

The Bogge clacks its teeth at me, the air twisting and churning around it. It seems to flash between misty and humid and dry multiple times per minute — a sure sign of the enemy’s anger.

I lunge again, moving to plunge my double-ended blade into its chest. It narrowly dodges, and lands a good scratch on my side. 

My dress must be in tatters at this point. 

Igniting my knuckles once more, I feed it a solid fiery punch to the throat. It only wheezes for a moment, before returning to pawing at me with impossibly sharp claws.

I snarl, diving towards it. This time, it doesn’t dodge, and we roll to the other side of the hallway. Mercifully, I end on top, and I plunge my blade into one shoulder, then the other. Bogge blood spurts up, mixing with the red mess of my own hands, and landing in my mouth. I don’t even spit it out, I just swallow it and land one more stab to its ribcage. 

Until suddenly, I’m struggling to breathe.

My eyes bulge, and I glare down at the creature beneath me. It sports a crazed grin, pleased as the air around me becomes depraved of any and all oxygen. 

I cough, squeezing its throat with flaming fingers. 

If I can’t breathe, then it doesn’t get to, either.

I realize that there’s only one way for me to retaliate against such strong magic.

So, with a strained noise from behind my gasping, I unleash my own magic. It floods the air, streaming from my open wounds, my wheezing throat, my nose, my ears — everywhere. 

Tendrils of deep red explode around me, and then dive onto the creature. I stand, stumbling back and directing my magic through a dance of death. Though I’m used to clean kills and swift executions, I’m no stranger to monster fighting. The magic memory resides in my veins, and the ribbons of power choke and tear and rip his flesh apart.

And just as suddenly as before, I can breathe. I raise a bloodied hand to my throat, taking oxygen-starved gasps of air, filling my aching lungs. I can already feel the strength returning to my muscles, feeding my body what it was sorely lacking.

I know it won’t be enough. Now that I can breathe, I’ll need to go back in physically. 

Only now do I notice the two voices in my head. 

I address the first: Eris.

The low tenor is panicked, further emphasized by the emotions pouring down the bond. 

Love? Love? Little flame? Please answer me. And please tell me you’re not in that fire wall.

I regret to inform you that I am.

Relief floods him, shooting down the thread of connection. You’re conscious, oh thank the mother—

I’m almost done here, I cut in gently. I need a knife. Or a sword. Literally anything that won’t cut me back.

I’ll ask around. 

I shift to the second voice, being met by Azriel’s oddly calm tone. I’m shocked that he’s already figured out how to speak down the bond: perhaps he’s just got practice from having Daemati friends.

Eris says you’re alive, he says, tone smooth and soothing. Do you need help?

I need a blade of some sort. I’ve been using a shard of glass.

Catch.

A hunting knife hurtles through the wall of fire, and I catch it swiftly, flipping it in my hand. Upon a quick investigation, it’s an impossibly sharp metal blooming from an obsidian hilt, and softly glowing. Definitely enchanted in some way or form. 

I stride towards the struggling creature, gripping the hilt of my new weapon. 

Launching myself onto it like a true predator, I let my violent tendencies completely loose. I relish in the slicing of skin, knowing that I am ridding the palace of this little bitch baby Bogge. 

It wiggles and howls and snarls and occasionally tries to bite, but I maintain my top position. I repeatedly plunge the blade into its flesh, and after a few good strikes, it stops breathing. And then it stops moving. The deep violet blood under its thin flesh has gone cold.

I make the decision to read up on the Bogge later, because I’m legitimately unsure of what it takes to permanently kill such a thing. Snarling, I also decide that I’m probably not done. 

With a few more artful strokes of this masterpiece of a weapon, I disembowel, behead, and quadrisect the Bogge.

I think that’ll do the trick.

Staggering to my feet, I take a moment to survey myself. My dress is ruined, but thankfully still in one piece, and it covers me well enough. I have deep scratches and gouges across my torso and legs, and I’m certain that there’s not an inch of skin that isn’t bloodied in some way of form.

Twirling my fancy-dancy blade in my hand, I step out of the fire wall — and am met with, arguably, more chaos than what was in my little arena. 

In fact, I’m very tempted to go back in, if only to escape what I see before me.

All of the High Lords, High Lady, and their entourages have gathered to the scene. They must have heard that a dangerous creature was nearby, and came to help.

However, they’re occupied.

By the scene of Eris and Azriel.

My two mates are at each other’s throats, only held back by a few other Fae — Tarquin and Lucien hold back Eris; Cassian and Rhys have a hold on both of Azriel’s biceps. Both males are snarling and uttering threats to one another. Helion stands between them, no doubt trying to soothe the tension with his humor, and Thesan is nearby, definitely anxiety-stricken by the situation.

They have not noticed my entrance.

I clear my throat, still spinning the knife in my fingers.

All heads snap to me, the hall growing very quiet.

“Can the Bogge still live after being decapitated, disemboweled, and de-limbed?” I ask, completely serious. “I mean, really, I need to read up on my Bogge facts. Because I cut it up as much as I can without totally shredding it, but for an elemental creature I’m really not sure what it takes to permanently kill.”

Eris is in front of me within moments, having broken free of the hands on him. He sweeps me into his arms, tucking my head against his neck.

“Oh, god, it was a Bogge? You were fighting a Bogge?” He exclaims, pulling me closer. I hug him back, careful to not stab him. “You’re alive. Oh, thank the mother.”

“Yes, I’m okay, very okay,” I soothe, reaching up to run my fingers through his rouge locks. I release the magic behind me, letting the fire wall dissipate.

He nearly purrs at the contact, quickly dropping to his knees and holding me at arms length. I can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks at this angle, head at my waist level. Like a blur of red royal beauty. “You’re cut up, but alright. Anything broken? How’s that wrist?”

Suddenly, I’m beaming down at him, even as the world spins around us — blood loss, I’m sure. “I killed a Bogge. Call me High Lady, because I’m officially on your level,” I giggle, reaching over to rub his head.

He beams right back at me. “You did. Of course you did.”

But a hand on my shoulder distracts me, and I look up to find Azriel standing there. He looks impossibly pretty, as he always is, but more so now.

One pretty mate, two pretty mate, red pretty mate, blue pretty mate.

“Oh, look, it’s other mate,” I grin, tilting my head. “Thanks for the knife, by the way. It’s epic. Can I keep this thing? Or is that why you’re here, to take it back? Because I’d like to—”

“Did you get any of the Bogge’s blood in your mouth?” He asks, completely serious. “Any at all?”

I frown, trying to think back. I glance to where the Bogge was, seeing Rhys and Helion nudging it with their boots. I can just barely make out the former muttering ‘…it’s definitely dead, that’s for sure…’

“Maybe,” I murmur, stumbling in place. “Yeah— yeah, I swallowed some, no time for spitting. Why?”

Azriel curses under his breath, turning away from me. “Thesan! She drank its blood!”

Eris frowns, looking up at Azriel with concern lacing his sharp gaze. “What’s wrong?” Then, realization dawns on him, and he looks back to me, eyes wide. “Love, can you tell me everything that just happened?”

“I fought the Bogge, and sent Fauna for help—” But I reach my own realization through my fuzzying thoughts, and interrupt myself mid sentence. “Why didn’t Fauna tell you that it was the Bogge?”

His eyes soften, and he reaches up to cup my jaw. “Little flame, Fauna was found dead.”

My hearts stops. I swear it completely stops.

But my dizzied vision doesn’t go still. No, things start to blur more, and suddenly I’m spinning and whirling and— and coughing. I’m coughing.

My name is called, but it all seems so far away. I vaguely know that I’m being ripped away from Eris and into a grip of tanned skin and tattoos and—wings? Are those wings?

“Stay awake,” that voice says again.

Stay awake, and I think that one was my own voice.

And that’s the last thing I hear, crumpling in these tattooed arms as the world goes black. 

All I know is that I am on fire.

My skin burns, and I remain in blackness. I am unable to open my eyes. Asleep. Comatose.

Every once in awhile, I’ll catch a voice or two. One that I thought was a medic explained that the Bogge Blood poison causes extreme fevers and hallucinations, and vivid fever dreams.

I have had many of those dreams. 

They are not pleasant.

Another conversation I have heard was between Azriel and Rhys. Rhys has a mission for Azriel to go on, back in the Night Court. Something to do with Illyrian camps. 

My sense of time is distorted, but I do know that it took a very long while to convince him to leave.

And I think I felt lips against my forehead.

Mostly, though, I hear Eris. I smell Eris. His scent is always nearby, and often I make out the sensation of him laying by my side.

A medic told him that I might be able to hear him, and since then he talks all the time. Sometimes through the bond, and sometimes out loud. He hums, or sings softly — even if Eris can’t sing to save his life, it’s nice.

He tells me about his day, about the time he wasn’t by my side.

He’s told me about his day six times.

I hope he’s just repeating himself, and that I haven’t been incapacitated for six days.

All the time, I try to communicate. I try to pry my heavy eyelids open, or part my lips to rasp a hello. But my body won’t cooperate.

My mind even struggles to put things together. I can’t figure out how to tug on the bond in this state. Every time I grasp my end of the string, it just wiggles away. Like it doesn’t want to be tugged.

It’s taunting me.

So I rest, mostly.

Right now, Eris is here, and there’s the etching of pen on paper. Surely doing paperwork. His scent is to my left, and one hand lays on mine.

“You know,” he starts, completely casual. “I, uh, fired half of my royal council today.”

If he didn’t have my full attention before, he sure as hell does now.

“One of them made a comment that at least this whole situation postpones you becoming High Lady. They’ll do anything to not have a female on the throne.”

I swear that my heart stops, and then shatters out onto the bed.

“A few of them laughed. I fired any of them that thought it was funny. And put them to death.”

That is such an Eris move. And I love it.

That inspires me to try with the bond again. I sharply reach out, grabbing the thread that connects me to the Vanserra male by my side. And I tug with all of my weight.

He flinches, and then goes very still. “…Love?”

I do it again. And then again, just out of the giddiness that I can actually communicate a bit.

“Okay, okay, hold on,” he laughs, and there’s a light shuffling. He sits up next to me, and there’s hands framing my face. “One tug for yes. Two for no.”

I give one tug.

“Can you hear me clearly?”

Yes. One tug. 

“Can you communicate in any other way?”

No. Two tugs.

“Would you like me to stay, or do you want space?”

I give one very long and sharp pull on that thread.

“I’m taking that as a stay.”

Yes please. One tug.

“And you can’t move at all?”

No. Two tugs.

“Can you feel things?”

Yes. One tug.

I can feel his grin, and then he presses his lips to mine. “Can you feel this?”

Happiness flows through me, and I’m inspired to try to speak down the bond.

Yes, I manage, and my heart flutters in my chest. I can feel it.

He laughs and pulls me up to his chest, showering my hair and face with kisses. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

I’m on a roll, I mentally laugh, brushing a mind-finger against his consciousness lovingly. A minute ago I couldn’t do any of this. Give me an adrenaline shot and I’d bet I could wake up.

He nods eagerly, gently placing me back on the bed. The mattress shifts as he stands, his scent growing less pungent. “I’ll be right back, love.”

There’s a click of a door opening, but no close.

The air suddenly feels incredibly tense, and it makes my skin crawl. Something soothingly cool creeps up onto my wrist, calming the burning of my skin. 

“Fantastic. It’s you,” Eris sneers, and the cool thing wraps a little tighter—almost protective. “I thought you were on a damn mission for once.”

“I was. For three days.”

“I know. I was counting. Seventy-two hours of bliss. With my mate.”

I consider the fact that Eris may be more bothered by this double-mate situation than he was showing. 

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Azriel replies in his most serene tone. 

“She’s still completely out. Don’t bother her with the bond or anything. Let her rest.”

“Please let me by, Eris.”

There’s a scoff, a growl, and then some shuffling. The door clicks shut.

Suddenly, that cool band around my wrist is spreading. Up my arm, across my torso, and settling lightly over my forehead and the back of my neck. I think they may be Azriel’s shadows, attempting to cool my fever. 

“I’m back,” he murmurs, and then the mattress dips. Lips are pressed to each of my cheeks. A hand slides over to take mine.

There’s a short silence, and then he gives the most gentle of tugs on the bond. 

I tug back.

The shadows tense, and then roam once more, dancing across my skin in circular motions. I have to wonder whether they have their own consciousness; if so, are they happy?

“Did you do that?” he murmurs, and fingers trace my jaw.

Yes, I speak down the bond. I gained the strength to communicate this morning. 

He hums in response, and then knuckles are gently pressed to my forehead. You’re still burning up, though.

I know. I can feel it. 

Silence.

Thank you, by the way, I say, needing to focus harder to maintain my consciousness. 

For what?

For breaking that vase. Gave me a good temporary weapon, even if it bit a little.

A low chuckle fills my ears, but I can feel myself sinking back into a dream.

How’d you know I broke that?

I wasss eavessdropping, I slur, trying to keep my speech steady and failing miserably. Sorrry. Hard to focus… I trail off, fighting sleep.

It’s alright. Rest. I’ll let Eris know. The mattress shifts, but I give him a very sharp tug on the bond, and he stills.

Stay. The shadowsss… are nice.

What I don’t tell him is that I know I’m sinking into a nightmare. And those concern Eris, I can feel the fear down the bond. I’d like Azriel to maybe be able to use the shadows to calm or wake me, and not bother Eris more.

Either way, a soft sigh is my answer, followed by his voice, out loud instead of down the thread of connection. “Of course. I’ll always stay.”

Burning and burning and burning.

I whirled around, eyes searching the ablaze building for an escape — any escape. 

The voices outside called my family name, begging us to evacuate. They were nearly drowned out by the crackling of fire and crashing of wooden support beams, but they could be heard.

“Mother!” I shrieked, racing into the kitchen. “Mother! Mother!” I sighed, trying her true name. “Maeve! Maeve?”

The little girl clinging to my arm sobbed, and I turned to look at her — I had forgotten she was there. A neighbor girl who had raced in to play hero at the sight of the flames.

“Mae-”

And that’s where I found her.

Knife in hand, standing in the center of her bedroom. Matchbox at her feet. Fire encircled her— Fae gasoline in a ring around her feet. 

“Mother?” I whispered, reaching out. “Did you do this? Did you— did you start the fire? It— It’s okay, but we have to get out—”

Only then did she turn to face me.

And only then could I see her wrists, slit and dripping blood — too much blood, too fast. Too much.

“Go,” she whispered, holding up her arms. “I am done now.”

I had to strangle back a sob, raising a hand to my throat. “No—no, we can fix this. We’ll get out, and I’ll use my own flame to contain the fire. Come on, mum,” I urged her, holding out a hand. 

“No. This life has been long and lovely, and this is my time.”

I snarled then, growing impatient. “What would dad think? I’ll answer that for you: he’d say you were being ridiculous and crass—”

“Your father is dead. You know that.”

I recoiled at her words, clutching the sobbing girl a little closer. “You are dishonoring our family name with this act of selfishness.”

She smiled.

“Good.”

And she raised her hand, and then a beam of fire was falling between us. I shrieked, clutching the girl and stumbling back, out of the way as it crashed to the ground. I called her name once, twice, thrice more times, but no response came beyond the impenetrable wall of fire.

Even as I found an exit and herded the girl and I out, I was screaming. I never stopped screaming, and all there was was fire. Fire. And I was burning. And I really was, because people were avoiding me. My own flames were eating me alive, and my skin was hot, it was so hot, I was burning and burning and it would never end—

It’s not real.

Soothing, smooth voice. And suddenly I was burning even more.

.

.

I shoot up, coughing and coughing and wheezing and heaving. It’s so inexplicably difficult to pull oxygen into my lungs, as if they haven’t been used for decades.

I’m drenched in sweat, and my skin is still burning, and I’m awake. I’m awake, and— on fire. My skin is physically emitting flames, flames that I can see, that I can feel— I can feel that fire.

I whimper, my voice coming out strained. Hoarse. It makes sense, considering that I’ve been asleep for what—a week?

“Breathe love,” a voice to my left urges me, and I’m just now realizing that there is exactly one set of hands on me — Eris, with an arm around my shoulders and clutching my fiery hand.

I look up at him, blinking once, twice, and then deciding I don’t have time to be happy that he’s here because I am on fire.

“Help—” I manage to whisper, raising a blazing hand. 

“I know, I know. Your magic has gotten away from you. Look at me. Focus on me,” he instructs, pulling me a little closer.

Eris, being the High Lord of fire himself, is not burned by me. He releases my hand and cups my jaw, forcing me to make eye contact.

I nearly sob, just at being able to see his face again.

“Pull your flames in, my love,” he says, with a kiss to my cheek. “I’m right here.”

I keep looking at him, staring at him, as my flames begin to subside. Taking long, steadying breaths, my magic begins to be reined in.

“Good,” he kisses my hair. “Good. You’ve got it.”

“Why— how… I’m awake,” I croak, finally getting the flames to settle into my too-warm skin.

“I got a medic to give you that adrenaline, and then, uhm, you lit yourself on fire.”

“Accidentally,” I scowl. “I wouldn’t intentionally go burning the medical wing down.”

Not like my mother.

“I know, little flame — you know, that nickname is a little too real now,” he chuckles, tugging me closer. 

“I still like it,” I smile, nuzzling my face into his neck. “Even if it’s literal now.”

“Those were anything but ‘small’ flames,” an unfamiliar, feminine voice chimes in. 

I flinch, pulling away from Eris’s grasp, coming eye-to-eye with an older female sporting deep brown eyes. 

I have no idea who this female is, and my instinct screams at me to dive for a knife. But Eris’s grip around my shoulders tightens, and he gives me a look — he knows damn well I want to go for a weapon.

“This is Madja,” Azriel introduces (and, oops, I had forgotten he was there.) “She’s the Night Court’s very best healer.”

I nod slowly, but my hands cling to Eris’s button-down shirt. He sits next to me, letting my head fall against his shoulder. 

Madja holds out a hand, and I warily shake it, my fingers twitching. “You’re definitely weak from the coma, but in better shape than I’d expect, for how long you were out.”

I frown, pulling back my hand. I know all of this already, and I open my mouth to say so, but Eris beats me to it.

“She’s fully medically trained,” my red-headed mate explains. “You can give her the full rundown.”

So, she does. Madja explains how long I was out (a week!) and any deficits I may have. She says that my fever is still quite high for her liking, but that me being awake and communicative is a good sign. She prescribes rest and hydration, and says that I may return to my room when I feel like it.

Madja gives me pills to take in case the poison — which still flows in my veins — causes any pain or other symptoms. She also tells me to send for her if there are any new developments.

With Madja leaving, I’m left in the room with my two mates. I sink back onto the blankets, and Eris moves with me, pushing hair out of my face.

My eyes, although hesitant, shift to Azriel. “Did you end up taking that knife back?”

He nods. “It’s called Truth Teller, and it always strikes true.” He pulls that beautiful knife out of a sheath at his side, and I get to admire it once more.

“It served me well. Thanks for hurling it at me.”

He chuckles, and Eris just scowls, picking at a piece of invisible lint on his shoulder. 

But that knife brings back another memory, and I realize that I have many questions to ask about what exactly happened that day with the Bogge.

“Am I remembering correctly, when I say that Fauna was found dead?” I ask, glancing over to Eris.

The ginger male grimaces, and nods. “Yes. I’m so sorry, dove — I know she was your favorite.”

I frown, but that’s not the issue on my mind. “But how? How is she dead?”

That gets Azriel’s attention, and he joins in. “What do you mean? We assumed she went out, found the Bogge, was killed, and then you found the Bogge roaming the palace.”

I shake my head. Sitting up once more, I run a hand down my face. “No, no. I was going down to the safes to grab that necklace, Eris, you know which one. And then I found the Bogge in a closet, still in its creepy not-real mist form. I was avoiding it, doing just fine, hoping to keep it contained, but then Fauna caught up to me. She found the Bogge, acknowledged it, and it turned real. But I made sure she got away. She ran, with instructions to get help.”

Eris narrows his eyes. “I made sure the necklace was in place that morning. It should have been there.”

“Fauna said it wasn’t.”

Azriel cuts in once more, twirling Truth Teller in his hand. “Is that hallway the only way to get to the jewelry safes?”

Eris and I nod in confirmation.

“Then someone was trying to lure you straight to the Bogge.”

My blood runs cold.

Eris tenses by my side, but reaches up to run a hand through my hair anyway. Classic Eris, always worried about me.

But my mind lingers on that fact, taking me away from the current moment. I roll Azriel's words over and over in my mouth, until I come to the only viable conclusion.

Someone is trying to kill me.

Tags: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @5moremin @azriels-mate123 @a-frog-with-a-laptop

To be added to the tag list, comment and ask! Thanks for reading!

Part Five

[picky-and-corrupted-picky]

INCORRECT QUOTES AGAIN!!!!

'cause I'm still sick-

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Picky: The ‘how the fucks’ and 'why are you so dumbs’ don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

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Bobby: At this point, I'm holding myself together with glitter glue.

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Crafty: I scare people a lot because I walk very softly and they don't hear me enter rooms. So when they turn around, I'm just kind of there and their fear fuels me.

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Bubba: I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.

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Crafty: Unfortunately, due to several experiences in my youth, I cannot just 'walk up and join a circle of people talking', but it does sound lovely, thank you.

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Hoppy: Underestimate me. That'll be fun.

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Bubba: Ok, first of all, what the fuck?

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Kickin, seeing a banana on the car seat: What the FUCK?? Kickin, buckling the banana up: Fucking buckle UP, it’s the LAW!

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Kickin: I have no respect for Santa. Don’t sneak in through the chimney and undermine my authority by bringing my family presents. Walk in through the front door and fight me like a man.

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Hoppy: Kids don't even call you a doodoo head anymore. They just call you a bitch.

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Kickin: So apparently the "bad vibes" I've been feeling are actually "Severe psychological distress."

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Picky: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka. Picky: *upends the bottle*

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Bubba: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

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Hoppy: If karma doesn't hit you, I fucking will.

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Kickin: Guess who got shit done today? Kickin: Not me, but congrats to somebody out there.

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Bubba: Time for plan G. Bobby: Don’t you mean plan B? Bubba: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties. Crafty: What about plan D? Bubba: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago. Hoppy: What about plan E? Bubba: I’m hoping not to use it. Kickin dies in plan E. Picky: I like plan E.

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Bubba: I CAN'T DO IT! Bobby, laughing: I CAN'T EITHER! Bubba: I CANT FUCKING DO IT ANYMORE Picky: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT, YOU CAN EITHER GIVE UP NOW, OR YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT. BECAUSE WE CERTAINLY CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT YOU, AND WE KNOW YOU CAN'T DO IT WITHOUT US. Bubba: Bubba: I appreciate it, Bubba: BUT LOOK WHAT WE'RE DEALING WITH- Hoppy: Bubba- Bubba: YOU GOTTA DRAW THE LINE SOMEWHERE! Crafty: Bubba we gotta- Bubba: YOU GOTTA DRAW A FUCKING LINE IN THE SAND. YOU GOTTA MAKE A STATEMENT. Bubba: YOU GOTTA LOOK INSIDE YOURSELF AND SAY 'What am I willing to put up with today?' Bubba, motioning to Kickin: NOT FUCKING THIS

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Bubba: If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous. Hoppy: What if it bites me and it dies!? Crafty: Then you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Hoppy, learn to listen. Kickin: What if it bites itself and I die? Picky: That’s voodoo. Hoppy: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Bobby: That’s correlation, not causation. Crafty: What if we bite each other, and neither of us die? Kickin: That’s kinky. Bubba: Oh my God.

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Twisted!Bubba and Violent!Kickin by @smiling-psychopaths

Lovesick!Bobby by @protective-mama-bear

Corrupted!Picky by me :D

Emotionless!Crafty by @emotionless-craftycorn

Impulsive!Hoppy by @jumptothemoon

[keruimi]

Only You

Obanai Iguro x Princess! Reader

Warning: Slight Angst and a little bit of spoilers and ooc.

Note: Obanai is really my favorite character so I'm giving him a lot of comfort fanfic to quench the pain I felt for his story. Early apologies if he is a little ooc. Y'all, he needs more love!

Words: 617 words

So this is what it feels like to be deeply loved by someone? That you feel like they would stay even if the world didn't.

_____________________________

All my life, I never feel anything for myself other than hatred for the reasons that was not even my fault to begin with. So how come...

How can a princess love me?

A person loved by the whole Empire, falls in love with tainted blood like me. She was the epitome of beauty, elegance, and perfection. While I am a flawed person. A simple man, who came from a family whose luxury came from sins.

But I want her...

I want to keep her, I want to love her like she did but... The guilt would always stay with me.

She can't end up with a man like me. Someone who can't even have the will to love themselves. How can she make sure I can give the same feelings she held for me?

Our worlds are too different. Our social standings are too far away. I am not worth it. This love is not worth it.

Then what is she fighting for? What is she trying to reason?

There are too many obstacles before we reach our happy ending. I don't want to be the reason for her ruined character.

She was perfect, while I have a lot of imperfections.

She was pure, I was tainted with the crimes of the blood flowing within me.

"Obanai-"

"Your Highness" I cut her off as I didn't bother looking at her but there is no denying the discomfort and disbelief that is etched on my expression.

Why is loving feels like a dream but at the same time, a nightmare.

"I can't..." I finally had the will to mutter the words I hesitated to speak out.

"Hear me out" I heard her gentle voice as she took a hold of my arm.

"Why can't you understand?" I whispered, struggling to keep my emotions in control.

"We can't be together" I continued my words as I clenched my eyes shut and fisted my hand.

I am not deserving of anyone's love.

That's why I chose my duty above everything. Love was never my priority.

Seeking the emotion I never felt before was never my dream.

"Your Highness-" I felt my next words got stuck in my throat when I saw the woman respected by many...

Kneel in front of me, she tightly clutch the hem of my haori as she look down at the grass below us.

"Can you at least give me even an ounce of love?"

Without a second thought, I kneel in front of her as she took a hold of both my arms as she seems that she badly wants to cry.

"Please, at least give it a chance" she begged as I took a deep breath to compose myself before shaking my head.

"I really can't, your Highness. Please, don't give your heart to someone it shouldn't belong to" I told her as she punched my chest in anger but I didn't feel any pain at all as her sobs slowly broke out from her lips.

"Who do you think you are to tell me it shouldn't belong to you?"

"My heart seeks for you and only you"

I felt my eyes soften on her words as the tears I desperately tried to keep from my eyes, finally overflowed.

"I would keep choosing you no matter how many times you push my away. It would only be you"

I tightly clench my eyes until I can't hold myself back and took her in my arms as she muffled her sobs on my chest.

I can't...

I don't want to push her away...

"I am willing to risk everything"

Just for me

[spider-bren]

MEANT TO KILL ME | VOLLER X READER

@shadesofkumquat gave this prompt so thank you!! And yes, you are right. There is nothing like enemies to lovers trope. Mads did look sooo good so I’m happy to write this. Hope you like it :)

Prompt: I’m desperately looking for a Jürgen Voller x Fem!Reader 👀 PLEASE 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 Well maybe she’s been kidnapped or something like that kind of enemies to lovers (best ships God). You can even go very spicy, no limits there. Don’t know if that’s what you want to write as you specifically gave ideas, but i’m still taking my chance haha. Mads was so HANDSOME in this movie! (so yeah, I scream too)

Pairing: Jürgen Voller x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Reader is Indiana’s student (but not really), Canonical Idealogy - Nazi, Enemies to Lovers 

Summary: You’ve been kidnapped by Voller’s goons and when Voller comes to you you both know you want each other 

You didn’t know where you were. Last thing you remembered was that you were on the street enjoying the festival and suddenly this large blonde American came out of nowhere and slipped a bag over your head, carrying you over his shoulder. Now that the bag was removed, you found yourself in a hotel room cuffed to the large made up bed. The cuffs hurt your thin wrists as you tried to yank yourself and slip free. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said the blonde man who was sitting watching you on a chair with his feet propped up on the bed. He was wearing a suit which surprised you. 

Did kidnappers normally wear suits? Or were those just those movies where they were ski masks and stuff? 

“Voller wouldn’t like that,” he added with a click of his tongue. 

“Who is Voller?” you asked, wearily. 

“Voller is my boss. He asked me to bring you here. You know Doctor Jones, right?” 

“Yeah. I’m one of his students. What does this have to do with me?” 

“I don’t know really. All I know is that I have to keep you here until he comes back.” 

“Please, let me go. I don’t know anything I swear.” 

“Shut up.” 

The door opened and another man came in wearing a dark grey suit. 

“Thank you, Klaber,” the man in the glasses said to the blonde. Klaber exited the room leaving you two alone. 

“My name is Jürgen Voller." 

"What do you want from me?" You struggled against the binds again. 

Voller stalked towards you taking off his suit jacket and folding in on the chair Klaber was on. He neatly did up his sleeves before leaning over your small frame. His eyes were golden amber, flecks of green shone in them from behind the glasses. 

"I told Klaber to capture you because of Doctor Jones but really I wanted you for myself as soon as I saw you." He sniffed your hair and his lips grazed your ear. "You are very beautiful." 

He trailed his long fingers down your cheek. You shivered, trying to figure out what was going on. Your fight or flight response was dormant within you because some deep primal part of you liked this. Like being…captured. Being his prey. He was an extremely attractive man. High cheekbones and plush lips that now were kissing the juncture of your jaw and neckline. 

"You know who I am?" 

You shook your head at his question. Hands still strained in the chains, your body confused as a swift flush of heat settled in your stomach when he moved closer to you. 

"I'm the man that wants to do bad things. Bad things by societal standards, but good things for the world in the long run. I work for NASA. I helped put men in space. But this world needs more than men in little outfits dancing on the moon. It needs a leader. And I am one to do it. See, my dear, I want to kill Hitler. And take over…how does that make you feel?" 

Something in you stirred. Hatred. Disgust. This man was everything you had been taught to despise. You had no idea how the hell he was going to go back in time and kill Hitler but that didn't matter. He was evil. A bad, bad man. He wanted to better the world, but with his own force, his own power. His ideals didn't align with yours. Your conscience was rational, if anything. 

And yet…when his hands were on you that didn't matter. He was just a man. And you were just a woman. 

"Tell me, what do you think of it?" 

You gasped as his thumb and forefinger plucked at your hardened nipple. It was harsh. Rough. He didn't give you time to respond. 

"I bet it secretly turns you on. I bet you like it. It's wrong and you know it. Nothing wrong about sex. Nothing wrong about lust. You shouldn't be ashamed of your desires. I'm a scientist, I should know. It's natural to want things you know you shouldn't. That's what makes it even more alluring." 

His fingers edged towards your skirt and you mentally cursed yourself for deciding to wear it today. 

"You want me. Don't be shy now, little one. I will make it all better. When I first saw you, I wanted you. I knew that you'd resist me. You'd hate me. But that doesn't stop me. You want me like I want you. You can run. You can fight me. I will chase you across the world." 

"Jürgen," You cried as his fingers curled into your lace panties and found you soaked. 

"Klaber doesn't know. He doesn't know how long we've been playing this game. No one knows. How you don't work for Indiana. How we have been acting like we don't know each other for years. Two opposite sides. Different parts of the war. You stand to end me. Your job is to stop me. And you would even pretend to be in Indiana’s class just so I know where to find you. You never told me who you work for. CIA? Interpol? Some secret hate group towards me?" He smirked as he fucked you slowly and easy. 

You sighed and bit back moans at the remembrance of how good his fingers were. It had been too long. Voller was and had been your lover for some time now. And even though you were supposed to kill him, you loved him. All that mattered was his tongue stroking yours, his hands massaging your chest, and his fingers moving inside you making you shake and ache for him. 

"I guess I never need to know who you are. I already know you're mine."

[oneshotnewbie]

Tempting Bad - Part II

Authors Note: Way too long and a little rushed, but I wanted to put everything you asked me into this request. I tried to shorten it a bit but I didn't succeed. So sorry for that! Also parted in two parts because Tumblr did not let me post the whole thing :(

Trigger warning! This one-shot includes the topic of suicide and the plot is presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Summary: Life consists of small moments that shape us, stay in our memories and make us who we are. Often we don't even know what influence we have on other people, how we appear to the outside world and how we affect other people's lives. And this influence leaves traces

ᕚ---ᕘ

Your eyes were swollen, your cheeks red and hot from crying when you got to your apartment and slammed the door shut. Leaning against it, you painfully slid down along the wood before pulling your knees close to your torso and burying your head deep in your arms.

With multiple, deep sobs you let out your pent-up sadness that had accumulated deep inside you while you felt a noose tighten around your neck and the ground pull out from under your feet.

You tried to calm yourself, which was not easy. The only thoughts floating around in your head were thoughts of hanging your life on the hook and your own death. Sobbing and completely lost, you gave these thoughts the strength they carried within and let them win.

For weeks, you put up with everything life has thrown at you, but the ground had been torn from under your feet.

Desperate and almost in a state of panic, you got up on shaky legs and immediately searched for a pen in various drawers before ripping the paper out of the printer on your way to the coffee table.

Totally lost in your own anger and destruction, you cleared the things that were on the table with a simple sweep of your arms onto the floor. The cracking and clinking of the glasses on the parquet floor were absent in your ears, the only focus laying on the blank sheet of paper. You began to write absent-mindely and after the first word, the pen just flew across the paper.

<Hey my beloved sisters, Pen and paper have been lying in front of me, scraps of thoughts flying back and forth, but nothing useful that would help me put into words what is going on inside of my mind. My classmates call me different than the rest of humanity. It hurts to see the disgusted looks and hear the nasty names they call me. Every day, I have to endure the teasing. Comments that make me miserable. Both of you had suspected something as I withdrew myself from you, watched my development in the last year of high school with growing concern. I suffered in silence, did not want to drag you into a fight that I had to master alone. But I had lost this incessant fight, my time on this earth is up and you are not to blame. The price I had to pay for being myself torments me. Excruciating pain as the cold grips me and my innocent blood dries up in my veins. I just wanted to feel complete, but what remains are deep burns on scarred flesh. Embracing flames, expressed in the form of insults and contempt, pull me deeper. Their dominant psyche and their whispering voices behind my back stifle my cries for help while their words bring me to my knees, slaughter my defenseless body every second of my school days. I want to be free. Free from everything but above all from the unspeakable pain that infects me with incurable venom. And that is why I say take care and do not cry over me. Nothing can be worse than years of cold bullying leading a young person to commit suicide. Kara, Alex. I love you. Forever and always, your Y/n>

Tears had smeared the ink between the lines, stains of them waving the paper. By now you had slumped off the couch onto the floor, one hand cupped over your mouth as you gazed into the distance in silence. Hurt with words and harmless statements, hurt with actions that brought you down.

You were rarely hurt physically, but the emotional pain caused your body to suffer as well. Why you deserved it, was uncertain. But it was cruel and you knew that pain would never go away living that way.

Meanwhile, you hurried through the apartment, trying to find a suitable place for the letter before you put it on the dresser near a picture of your sisters and yourself on one of the happy days. "I hope you forgive me,"

Whispering the last words into the void, you said goodbye to your place of rest, love and protection before you set off to carry out your plan. Walking the streets of National City among crowds, with the hood low over your face, you made your way off to a place you usually went whenever you needed to think.

A bridge with train track below, on which departing and arriving trains passed, noted by their loud noises. For the first time in forever, you felt like you were entering a foreign district, even though you had been coming her for years.

Your legs were heavy as lead and you could feel your heart trying to find a way up into your throat. Completely out of breath and trembling, you remained at the barrier and ignored the few looks you drew from joggers or walkers.

The adrenaline rushed through your body before you climbed over the barrier and were now standing on top of a two inch wide metal beam that kept you from a twenty meter free fall. Your heart was beating fast, blood pounding in your ears while your hands were shaking and a lump was forming in your throat.

You slowly put one foot in front of the other. When you got to the edge of the bridge, you stopped and enjoyed the wind blowing through your hair while you spread your arms like a birds wings. "Do not do it, doll. Please"

You flinched, staggered on the iron beam, but managed to keep your balance. You cocked your head to the side to see the person standing back on the slope and studied them, quickly realizing who it was before a small smile crept onto your lips. It was one of the very few people in your life who could stop you from taking the final step. "Lee, what are you doing here?"

"Kara called me in panic, asked if you were with me.." began the CEO of L-Corp to speak, carefully taking small steps towards you. The raven haired knew exactly where to look for you, had she known the places you went when you needed space and distance. "Come down and talk to me, please"

"Talk about what? There is nothing to talk about, nothing matters anymore,"

"What is on your mind and what led you to this decision. Please, break your silence," she spoke to you urgently and pleadingly. Her usually strong and spiteful voice had dropped into a worried tone, and seemed almost choked as she whispered, "Let me help you"

A cold shiver ran down your back and made your body tremble again, but your tears had dried up. You stood still and silent, your gaze directed to the train that was approaching from afar. "The daily insults so full of hatred have destroyed my soul," your throat went dry, like you did swallowed sand while feeling a cold pressure in your chest. "I can not go on living like this"

"You have an entire family behind you that is willing to help. You just need to talk to us"

Lena´s firm words mingled with your interrupted thoughts and made you sob quietly. For a moment, you felt dizzy and though you were going to fall. But it was just an illusion that made you cling to the railing even tighter, yet it brought you to a realization.

You wanted to live. For your family but above all for what was still ahead of you.

"It will get better, Y/n…" a phrase you have been trying to convince yourself many times over the past few days but failed every time. When those words came out of her mouth, they sounded real. Honest.

Your thoughts faltered briefly and you looked up at emerald green eyes that seemed to glitter in the setting sun. "Really?" you doubted, and your trembling legs retreated to the center of the platform. Standing right on the boundary between solid ground and the abyss, you laid your cold-shivering hands on the iron concrete and looked up again, feeling the icy wind blowing through your hair and making your tears seem colder on your skin.

As soon as the raven haired saw the chance, she grabbed you with an incredible strength and pulled you over the parapet into her arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around your body, holding you close with a firm grip and breathed out a sigh of relief.

Lena laid her head on your shoulder before her eyes closed and focused on your trembling body, which seemed to shatter under her embrace. Your heartbeat seemed to slow, your breathing evened out with the steady rise and fall of your chest. There was only sobbing and a slight hiccup that broke the silence. "Shh, I am here"

And you were more than grateful for that. Grateful, that she saved you from a mistake you probably pulled through if she had not shown up.

[switchundercover]

"You Can't Tickle Yourself"

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AN: HELLO EVERYONE!! I'm back again with another spiderverse fic because my silly little brain is obsessed with it and I am constantly starving for content- AND SPEAKING OF STARVING FOR CONTENT, I made a thing with Miles and prowler Miles (who I decided to call Miles G in the fic, idk how to feel about it but I felt it was the simplest way to distinguish them-) because I've only seen like one tk post with prowler Miles in it and I'm literally starving for more content of him, so I made something myself! Hope you all enjoy the brothers be brothers :]

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Miles G. Morales, also known as The Prowler of Earth-42, was sat inside Miles Morales' room, also known as the Spider-Man of Earth-1610. The two versions of each other had- well.. a really big, life threatening fight a few months back, but ever since that got resolved, Miles had been trying to fix things with Miles G. Their relationship had been pretty rocky, and Miles wanted to fix it.

And if that meant tickling his counterpart to pieces, then so be it.

"H-hey! Stop that! I told you I wasn't ticklish-!" Miles G said, wiggling around underneath his spider-man counterpart, who had straddled his hips.

"No way! We're the same person, so that means you have to be ticklish!" Miles replied, scratching at Miles G's ribs. Miles G was indeed, ticklish (in fact he was so ticklish that it was almost concerning), but he would rather die than expose this secret to his more playful counterpart. So, he turned to squirming around and surpressing his giggles, weakly batting at Miles' arms.

"D-dude! Get off-!" Miles G stammered, his body tensing when Miles' fingers moved to the rib that was just below his armpit. Miles noticed this, and gave Miles G a knowing smirk, keeping his fingers stationary on the sensitive spot. Miles G tried to pry Miles' hands off of him, but with that extra strength Miles had from being a spider-person, his hands weren't going anywhere.

Miles pressed his fingers against the area once, and was delighted to see that Miles G had covered his mouth and jolted hard. In fact, he was forced to stifle a squeak from the insanely ticklish feeling. "Hmm.." Miles hummed, looking down at his Prowler variant with a wide smirk. "We have different ticklish spots! That's cool!"

As soon as Miles started pressing his fingers against Miles G's top ribs, the teen immediately lost it, bursting into a loud cackling fit. Miles couldn't help but grin from the reaction, finding the laughter coming from his Prowler counterpart.. absolutely adorable. It was unpredictable, and uncharacteristically high-pitched. And personally, Miles loved it.

"C-come ohohohohon! Get ohohohoff!" Miles G squeaked, his eyes shut tight as he tried to hide his giggles through gritted teeth, his attempts to do this failing miserably.

"Come on! Just a bit longer.." Miles responded, a playful grin on his face. Miles' hands were anything but predictable; as one moment he'd be scribbling his fingers against Miles G's ribs, and the next he'd be pressing his fingers against the softer skin on his torso, which in turn made the teens laughter shoot up an octave, and it gave his face a new red tint.

"Aww.." Miles cooed, his grin getting wider as he gave Miles G's hips a few experimental squeezes. Miles' Prowler counterpart reacted with a hard jolt, and a newfound desperateness in his laughter. Miles couldn't help but feel a bit more fond of the laughing, squeaking teen he had pinned underneath him. Seeing his usually stoic and mildly sarcastic counterpart laugh like a child.. it made him happy, knowing that Miles G probably hadn't laughed like this in a while.

On the other hand, Miles G was having the time of his life, not that he'd mention it out loud though, he'd rather die than admit he was enjoying.. this. Miles was right, his Prowler counterpart hadn't laughed like this in a good while, which was probably the reason why that, after a while, Miles G stopped squirming and fighting against Miles' hands, just letting himself laugh his cares away.

Miles was more than happy to make his counterpart laugh, reaching for the most ticklish spots he could find. With a grin on his face, Miles used a bit of his venom electricity to zap Miles G's hips, his eyes sparkling at the loud shriek that followed shortly after.

"NOHOHOHOHO!! WAHAHAHAHAIT- THAHAHAT'S NOHOT FAHAHAHAIR-!" Miles G argued through his laughter, mirthful tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Miles only chuckled, tilting his head as he went back to squeezing the poor boy's hips. "C'mon.." He began, his right hand sneaking under the fabric of Miles G's shirt to scratch and squeeze at the bare skin. "You can take a lot of pain, but not a lot of tickles?" He lightly teased, his grin softening into a playful smirk. What Miles said was definitely hypocritical (he, like Miles G, was concerningly ticklish), but it was fun to tease his more serious counterpart, so all hypocrisy was ignored at the moment.

Miles G's laughter started becoming wheezes, and it started to cut out more often, which gave Miles a silent indicator that he should soften up a bit. Miles' rapid squeezes and scratches gradually became feather-light traces on Miles G's hips, keeping the boy in a light state of giggles, but still letting him catch his breath.

After a bit of tracing, and one final squeeze that made Miles G squeak in surprise, Miles stopped, getting off of his counterpart and sitting beside him. Miles G was practically gasping for air, a few airy giggles escaping his lips.

"You.. you are.. evil, Spider-Man." He muttered under his breath, his body still tingling from the relentless attack. Miles couldn't help but laugh, giving the other boy one final poke to the side. "And you're ticklish, Prowler." He retorted, grinning at the way Miles G's face turned red from embarrassment.

Miles G eventually caught his breath, sitting up and putting a hand to his stomach. Miles expected his counterpart to look at him with an angry gaze, one that radiated a lust for revenge. But.. Miles G's gaze was a bit softer. Well, there was a hint of smugness to it, a way to silently tell Miles that his Prowler counterpart eventually would get revenge.. but he didn't know when.

"I don't like the way you're looking at me." Miles said, gritting his teeth in a mix of fear and slight playfulness, which in turn made his tone sound more nervous than anything.

As if the boy wasn't just tickled to pieces earlier, Miles G flashed his counterpart a small grin, raising his chin up slightly. "I didn't expect you to." He replied, a small, yet slightly dark chuckle coming out of him.

Despite liking it, Miles G was not one to go down without a fight. It was that competitive spirit of his which, much like Miles, wouldn't allow him to let the other person get the upper hand. And something that Miles would eventually find out, was that the Prowler indeed, did not back down so easily, and he had no trouble biding his time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike...

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[poognthebrainbois]

Rant/vent about current denial spiral under the cut - some context first: (*extremely brief mention of abuse/SA, medical history mention)

Had a fight with my mom about why I "still think it's DID." There were a lotta layers to that conversation, including:

- My (our) experiences don't line up with all the "research" she's done about DID

- according to her, co-consciousness doesn't exist and "you would have no idea there's another person [controlling your body], you can't be 'standing behind, watching.'"

- she doesn't trust anecdotal/personal experience of actual systems because "that's just people on the internet making up whatever they want"(paraphrase)

- she had also never heard of OSDD before. Even though she claimed she knows all about the DSM-5.

(medical trauma/history mention)

- I was never *physically abused or SA'd, therefore I don't have trauma. (She doesn't believe in emotional/verbal abuse, and all my *medical trauma/history was during/right after my birth (I was born 10 weeks early, had a surgery while in the NICU) so it doesn't count [I can't disagree with that])

(Might make a separate vent post about what we consider possible trauma that she "doesn't count")

- she told me "it sounds like you found something and stuck to it" (paraphrase) (meaning I learned about DID and just decided that was my problem.)

- made the same sweeping generalizations as always about my entire generation "wanting to be different" and "wanting to have something wrong [with us]"

(Again, I could make a separate vent post about what she says during literally every argument)

- told me (us) to "stop saying 'we' for Christ's sake!" (We will not.)

- she decided I (we) need to bring her "actual sources" of why I (we) believe it's DID/OSDD.

Which meant to us that we were gonna stay up all night doing extensive research.

Or that was the plan, before the denial set in.

(Recreation of Denial spiral below, just to throw it out to the void and be able to come back to it later to disprove I guess?? Could be triggering (lots of repetitive phrases, disbelief of trauma, derealization/depersonalization, there's a lot in here.)

What if she's right and I'm not a system? What if it's not DID or OSDD and I'm just desperate to make it into something? What if I actually don't have trauma and I'm secretly an endo??? (Any headmate tries to talk to me) You're not real, shut up. Why did I do this to myself? I ruined my life over something that's not even happening! Why did I let it get this far? Why am I still perpetuating this if it's not true?? It was never a problem until I did weed and "opened doors" that was just weed! I'm making up trauma that's not real! I want so bad to be traumatized so I can feel justified to be mad at my parents when really I'm just an entitled little bitch who's never had anything happen to them and needs to pretend they're worse off than they are! She has real trauma! She's actually been through real abuse and they've never done anything to me other than yell and that doesn't mean anything and I'm just a crybaby for being scared of getting yelled at they never actually threaten me (why do you remember the "I'll give you something to cry about" threat/phrase then???) and I cried over nothing all the time for no reason and I've just always been afraid of nothing. I can't believe I'm actually sitting here thinking about doing all this research just to prove a point?? Just to prove her wrong? That doesn't mean anything! That's not a good reason! I shouldn't even bother. This is a waste of my time. I should just tell her she's right and move on. It's not DID and (Losing my train of thought trying to write this, Jesus) I've just convinced myself it is but it's not. I've made it out to be more than it is so they'll care and that didn't work anyway. I can't believe this is happening right now. There's no way I got this far. That all of this really happened over nothing. They were just characters in my head! Why did I ever start believing more than that when I don't have trauma! Nothing that bad has ever happened to me and all these thoughts that keep coming up are fake and even if some of this stuff was trauma it wasn't in my childhood so it's not relevant. I spend too much time on the internet and I shouldn't just believe all of this stuff. What do I think I'm actually "relating" too? I should've just left it at Maladaptive Daydreaming and been fine. I've made everything worse for myself. There was a reason I stopped doing research on DID years ago! 'Cause I don't have trauma and I can't sit here and pretend I do. Why am I doing this?

(Etc etc etc. Front changed while writing this. I've been in co the whole time but Parker needed to step back for their own comfortability.)

We went back n forth for a while about a bunch of this stuff. Had a number of headmates hop in co-front just to prove a point, only for Parker to continue to tell them they're not real and it's "all me and I'm faking" bro you are at that point proving a point to yourself but okay.

Anyway, eventually Kiara took front and started on research anyway. We were up til 5am. Didn't finish but marked all our tabs so we could go back and finish it up the next day (yesterday). Did not get back to it yesterday 'Cause Parker got anxious.

We now have a deadline to present this shit. We've got a psych appointment tomorrow morning and Mom's leaving on Thursday to visit a friend. So we should get to it today. But they're really not ready for that conversation. Unfortunately we (Lio) told our psychiatrist that we might actually get to that conversation with our parents before our next appointment so now Parker feels like we have to. And if we don't then they'll be anxious about it the entire time Mom's gone which is also not productive.

There's a worry that if any of the rest of us try to explain it then it won't be taken seriously because we're not them. This whole situation is exhausting. We weren't planning on trying to have this conversation yet and now we're so rushed and there's a lot more pressure.

In any case, there's a chance we'll post an update if/when it happens.

If you've read this far, any kind of support would be appreciated. <3

-❤️