#like what she desperately clings to during the walk

[ilynpilled]

i think the thing with me and how i see jc is that i think it is a brilliant dynamic for not what it “is”, or what a lot of people think it is bc of the show’s version, but what it “isn’t.” like it is a deconstruction of the tragic forbidden lovers destined to be together for eternity, from birth to death, with love and devotion that cannot be ended despite society’s taboos. nothing else matters, only them. they were born entangled!!! jaime was born holding her foot!!(rip to that hand 🫡)but then like. u see the actual relationship. and it is so… cringe. it is so not this. so many other things matter to them both. so many personal desires that are incompatible with the desires of the other. in some ways they are the same, in others they are polar opposites. and they both end up choosing those other desires in the end. it is all based on lies and illusions and a desperate need for self affirmation from a broken and distorted mirror. it is a need to be able to love yourself in some form despite how broken you are. but it is false as fool’s gold. and that is so rich

[ghost-proofbaby]

september love (e.m.)

eddie finds you awake on the first night he's home from the hospital, and wonders what you're thinking.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of canon ending of season 4, except eddie didn't die. mentions of hospital and medical procedures (in passing). sort of sad, sort of not. a little bit of angst? hurt/comfort. religious imagery (specific mentions of heaven).

wc: 1.7k+

an: this was just some sort of weird rambling upon seeing the poem mentioned above at like 11 pm? 1 am? who knows. time is a construct. also, reader is compared to a 'violent' dog/animal during eddie's recovery, and if you like this metaphor/vibe, then i strongly suggest and urge you to go read @myosotisa's fic Half Life. she does it far more beautifully than i ever could, and it is one of my favorite fics. ever.

Your head is on his chest. 

Your temple and your ear are flush with the soft cotton of his wrinkled t-shirt, the one he insisted upon sleeping on his first night home, and it’s all you can think about. The smell of week old laundry, the stubborn linger of a cologne gifted too long ago to remember the worn name of. A steady heartbeat that still pumps along a little too slow for your liking. The rise and fall of each promised breath that you force your lungs to pace themselves with. Just enough heat radiating off of him to keep you warm, here in bed, here in the dim light of twilight as he rests.

No tubes and no IVs to worry about. No nurses barging in every ten minutes. No beeping of a dozen machines to be your symphony tonight. 

No, you don’t need a machine now to keep track of his heart rate. You’ve learned to do that entirely on your own; your heart has learned how to match his with each dulled thump against the skin you cling to through this dingy old t-shirt.

It can’t be long after 3 AM, the moonlight almost as bright as a rising sun as it peeks itself in through the curtains of the window, as if whispering to check if you might still be awake.

And you are. And all you can think about, is your head on his chest. 

It’s been over a month since you’ve had this type of moment with Eddie. A moment where you’re truly, sincerely, utterly alone with him. Privacy had become a delicacy that you weren’t aware of the fragility of. You hadn’t understood its importance until you had to bask in its absence, always on edge for the next body to walk into the room and take the air out of your lungs. Always anxious for the next sound of news, always worried for the next shoe to drop. 

You’d forgotten what it had felt like for Eddie to twitch his fingers along your spine in his sleep, and for you to be the only witness to his quiet worship, even unconscious. 

Your lips part, and you almost consider whispering hard truths into the trembling night air. There’s a million and one dying words cementing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and you know that every single one you could even manage to utter would only make you sound like a broken record. 

I’m sorry this happened to you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it. 

All things already said to him when he had been drifting in and out of consciousness in that hospital bed. All apologies already buried between muted sobs as you’d clutched his knuckles a little tighter than you should have, a little too selfish in the moment to wonder if it might be hurting him. The only thing on your mind had been keeping him, holding him, feeling him. He was alive – he was alive. And for the first seven nights of his endless rest, all you could wonder is for just how much longer that desperate prayer could ring true.

Would he leave you again? Would he lose the fight? 

You can’t recall without bias which one of you had been the true wounded animal in that little room, scented with burning bleach and cacophonies of nearby patients just beyond the curtains. 

Eddie, looking up at the police who had finally come once he woke, eyes big and teary as he’d tried to wrap his head around his new reality.

You, baring teeth and claws at them in the end, ready to bite hard at anyone who got too close.

It wasn’t just the police. It was everyone. 

It was the same juxtaposition between the two of you at those nurses who would interrupt the nights, always frowning so dutifully at the sight of your carefully curled figure at Eddie’s side. When friends and family came to visit, and they all had the same look of disbelief. As if they were about to tell you that you had imagined it all; he hadn’t survived, he hadn’t come back to you, you were imagining it. You’d been all bark and awaiting bite towards Steve Harrington and the newly revived Jim Hopper, all the same. Their figures bore no difference to you when it came to protecting what was so holy to you. Him, Eddie, here and alive. Eddie, who slept enough for the both of you those nights. The pain in your back from all the uncomfortable hours spent in that little chair at his bedside was insignificant, all the headaches you’d endured from the smell of iodine that still clung to the air after every surgery were pitiful attempts at the Universe removing you from him. 

If you could, you might try to recall your reaction when Dustin Henderson had babbled on through tears as to what had happened to Eddie when the two were left alone. His final act of heroism, or so he thought. 

But you can’t. Right here, right now, you aren’t capable of living in the past. You’ve been haunted enough these last few weeks, and all your numb mind can handle is counting the beats of his heart. Like the rhythm of a song – 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. Staccato verses that you sometimes whisper in time, getting worried when they don’t follow the infallible metronome you’ve set for him. 

“You’re still awake.”

The murmur of his voice is a drink of cold water, startling in the dark greys and blues wrapping the two of you up. 

You lift your head ever so slightly against your better judgment, “Go back to sleep, love.” 

“Touche.” 

You can see his grin even through the shadows. It’s weak, not yet quite as vibrant as it once had been, but it’s there. He’s still alive. He’s still grinning. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The pads of his fingertips are more intentional against your spine now, longer strokes and mindless shapes, “I’ve got a penny in my pocket if you tell me.”

His words are only slightly slurred. Probably residual of the pain medication they’d prescribed him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” you say, and you mean it.

You hadn’t been thinking. You had just been listening to his heart and his breaths, feeling the weight of him beneath you. 

Little things you had taken for granted once upon a time. Never again, your soul aches as you let your head drop back to his chest carefully. Never again.

“You’re just laying awake, not thinking about anything, at…” he trails off, turning his cheek and squinting in the direction of the alarm clock across the room. The glow is dim, and you know you’ll have to change the batteries soon, “Four in the morning?”

4 AM. Last you had checked, it had been 3 AM. You hadn’t even noticed an hour had passed. 

“Is that really so hard to believe?” you smile up at him, and it’s just as sincere as your words had been. When his honey brown eyes meet yours, warmth drizzles down your entire being. Across your brain, down your spine, wrapping around your limbs. You could spend an eternity here, simmering in his warmth, content to your heart’s fullest capability. 

You’d almost lost him. You’d almost lost this warmth. 

You take a second to memorize his features. Studying him as if you didn’t already know every curvature, every freckle, every winkle better than you knew your own soul. You’re looking at him as if you may never look at him again, and he can tell. 

He doesn’t have to say that he gets it. His hand simply wanders up to cup your face, basking in you as you were him. Two souls, intertwining over overlapping legs and synchronized heartbeats, and he doesn’t have to say a word. 

The moment his fingers card into your baby hairs, you’re turning your mouth quickly to that warm palm. One, two, three kisses. Quick pecks, rapid succession. A secret language that you know he, and only ever he, can begin to understand. 

I love you.

I love you.

I love you. 

It drowns out all sorrow, all guilt, all hauntings. Your cracked lips, and the feeling of those lines across his palms. If there is a Heaven, it’s not somewhere in a pearly gated kingdom above. There are no hark angels and there is no bearded man awaiting. 

It’s here. It’s now. It’s 4 AM, in bed with your lover, getting to experience moments you’d come so close to losing for eternity. 

Do the poets know? They must. All the love, all the adoration, in both your bodies is too abundant for them to not feel it. To not write about it. 

“Go back to bed, love,” you repeat almost a perfect imitation of your first command when he had awakened, and this time, his eyelids flutter with your words, “I’m not gonna disappear between now and sunrise. I promise.” 

“No,” he quickly whispers back as his eyes fully shut, and your palms smooth out the wrinkles of the shirt to feel the ridges of scars hidden for now. Scars he’s ashamed of, for now. Scars you’d one day show all the love in the world to, sacred proof that he came back to you, only once he was ready. One day. “But you’re looking at me like I might.”

His words are heavy in the shades of violet now sinking into the room. But the moon is high in her sky, and the crickets are chirping to the East, and he’s right.

You’re terrified the daylight will steal him from you. You’re terrified the new day might tear away all that you’ve sunk your teeth into. 

“I’m not going to,” he mumbles around a yawn, arms slowly encasing you, pulling you in closer, “I’m not going anywhere. Yeah?” 

He’s back with that warmth, coaxing you right back into heavenly notions with him. You let him; he baits you, and you follow. 

“Yeah.”

It’s a sigh. Of hopefulness, of relief, of belief. 

This time, the I love you is more than a prayer repeated in your mind. And he somehow manages to say it back, just as he begins to slip back under. Still holding you and hands still twitching where they rest against your back. 

Let daylight come. You aren’t capable of worrying about it, or stressing about all that has happened. You aren’t capable of thinking about anything right now, because only one thing matters as your temple and ear find his heartbeat once more. 

Your head is on his chest.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria@loveryanax@stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo@findmeincorneliastreet

[grandline-fics]

Hi, Hi, Thank you for answering! Since you said you accepted multiples characters i may ask for Ace, Zoro, Shanks if possible Marco with a s/o who during their relationship never show any signs of jealousy nor even possessiveness, very laidback. Yet one day/night, the boys just witnessed their s/o jealousy for the first time. And if possible the s/o’s jealousy is mostly staying deadly quiet with a disappointed gaze, but not cold treatment though. Or something like that? Thank you, thank you, I hope I did not asked characters you aren’t comfortable with :(

DESCRIPTION: They finally see you jealous

WARNINGS: some slight angst but it all ends happily for everyone

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Marco

WORDS: 2,453

A/N: Thank you for this request! I hope each scenario was different enough for you and that you're happy with the result for this ask

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

If Ace were to find a partner, he couldn’t get anyone better than you. You were his closest friend before you both became aware of your deep romantic feelings for the other and both confessed, allowing things to effortlessly progress into a romantic relationship. With you Ace knows he is safe and free to be himself, just as you can be yourself without judgement. Because you were both friends before becoming a couple, you both are content to spend time together while also being apart. You both can spend an evening in a bar with the other Whitebeard Pirates and hardly say a word to each other until its time for you both to return to the ship. Because of the fact neither of you cling to the other for the entirety of the night, it can lead to some misconceptions about the relationship you both have to an outsider.

One evening you returned to the Moby Dick after being sent out on a solo mission by Pops. As usual the deck was lively and filled with laughter and chatter. You noticed some new faces to the crew, making a note to properly introduce yourself to the new recruits after you spoke to Pops. On your approach you slowed to see one recruit standing very close to Ace, who merely smiled at them with his usual friendly smile. While he couldn’t see the lust in his admirer’s eyes you could see it clearly. “So you’re my commander? I’m so lucky to be under someone as handsome as you.” She smirked and Ace laughed, while you rolled your eyes, continuing to walk forward. 

Marco spotted your approach first and called out your name in greeting. Immediately Ace looked over excitedly only for his smile to drop when he spotted the look in your gaze. Normally you were as excited as he was when you were reunited but now you seemed almost disappointed. Worry flipped in his stomach and he reached out towards you but instinctively you pulled your arm away and continued to walk. “I have to talk to Pops first. I’ll catch up with you after.”

“Looks like someone’s in the doghouse.” Izou teased when he knew you were out of earshot. 

“Can you blame them? They go for a couple weeks and come back to Ace flirting with another person.” Marco chimed in with a feigned look of disapproval while Ace became panicked and looked between his fellow Division Commanders. Did you really think that? Was he really in trouble? Worse still, was his relationship with you at risk because he hadn’t realised one of the recruits was flirting with him again?

Acting on impulse he immediately raced up the deck and slid to a halt beside you, hooking an arm around your waist and hauling you off of your feet. “Sorry, Pops! Emergency!” he called out over your shouts, ignoring them and the whooping cheers as he carried you below deck to your shared room to speak in private. When you were set on your feet you lightly shoved Ace. “What the hell did you do that for?” You demanded only to blink in surprise when Ace threw himself onto his knees and wrapped his arms around your waist, staring up at you in desperation. “Please don’t end things with me! I promise you’re the only one I want, I’d never throw what we have away. I swear I didn’t flirt back. I’d never-” 

“I know Ace.” You stopped his rambling with a small smile and lightly setting your hand on his cheek. “You never realise when anyone flirts with you. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen someone throw themselves at you.”

“But that look on your face…and Izou and Marco said I was in the doghouse…”

“Yeah I don’t like seeing someone flirt with you but I know you’re loyal to me.” You shrugged. “As for those two, they’re just bored. I wasn’t going to get mad at you for not realising someone wanted to get with you. I trust you Ace.”

“If you were mad at me though…”

“I’d tell you.” You promised before pinching his cheek and scowling. “For example, I’m not happy you dragged me away while I was in the middle of talking to Pops. But I’ll forgive you just this once because of how worried you were.” You smiled to see the relief in Ace’s eyes and suddenly became aware of the strain in your neck. “Now would you please get up and welcome me home properly?” With a grin, Ace adjusted his hold on you and quickly pulled you down to instead settle on his lap so he could lovingly pepper your face with kissed before finally kissing you with all the love he could convey. Despite you promising you were fine he needed to show that you were the only one he ever wanted this way. 

SHANKS

“Oh Captain’s got his hands full again….or rather hand full.” You glanced across the bar as you entered the building to see what Lucky had been talking about and your sights zeroed in on the swarm of women around your Captain. Any that hadn’t been able to grab a chair at the table, stood excitedly close all of them listening to the current tale of adventure the crew had been on. Everyone in the crew, including yourself were used to this occurrence. Of course they’d be drawn to the handsome Captain with the roguish smile. You’d been drawn to it and fallen for his charm so you couldn’t exactly blame anyone else for it too. 

Despite that you still couldn’t help the foreign, uncomfortable feeling stirring in you at the sight. Up until a few months ago, you would have joined in with the rest of the crew, teasing your popular Captain but since then you’d fallen for him and started a relationship with Shanks which some of the crew still weren’t completely aware of. Jealousy wasn’t something you’d ever really felt before seeing as your previous relationship were flings at best and you and your partner knew as much. What you had with Shanks however felt different and because of the fact neither of you had made it public or put a label on what was going on between you both, it made the feeling even more uneasy at the sight in front of you. 

You walked with Lucky Roux to Shanks’ table just as he finished his story. At your approach Shanks’ eyes lit up and he grinned at you from behind his mug. “You two have some catching up to do.” He joked, while Lucky grinned and reached for the filled mug of ale offered to him, you nodded slightly and took your own with less enthusiasm as you normally would. Immediately Shanks’ suspicions were heightened, while his carefree smile remained the look in his eyes sharpened as he observed you drink steadily. A couple of the newer members of the crew rose from their seats to let you and Lucky sit at Shanks’ table out of respect to you both. Lucky took his seat without hesitation whereas you smiled and shook your head gently. Instead you drained your mug and turned to go to the bar for a refill. Shanks’ eyebrow quirked slightly and his fingers drummed against his mug while he watched you in concern. “Were there any issues Lucky?”

“Not a one, Cap’n. Ship got restocked without problem and the locals reported no trouble since our last visit here. Everyone’s happy.” Lucky reported with his usual smile before returning to his own conversation with Hongo. Shanks glanced at you from across the room again, watching as even with your new drink, you remained by the bar, sipping it slowly and staring at nothing. Shanks finished off his drink and moved to stand only for one of the women fawning over him put a hand on his shoulder, insisting they’d go and get the drink for him only for the others to pipe up too, leading them to bicker over who would get him a refill. “No, no, I’ll go myself, it’s fine. You all stay and Ben here will tell you of my best battle, won’t you Ben?”

At the promise of another story, Shanks was able to get away from the table without being followed by his admirers and he let out a sigh when he was out from the crowded presences and now standing beside you, fully noticing the difference he felt in the comparison of the two feelings. While he waited for the bartender to see to him, he glanced at you and saw your far-off look. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m staying close to the alcohol so I can catch up like you ordered me to Captain.” Your answer was even and detached, your gaze remaining on nothing in particular on the opposite wall. 

“You’ve got me worried, love.” At that pet-name you finally looked at Shanks. Unable to help yourself you glanced behind him to the table filled with people still waiting for him to return before returning your stare to his face. 

“It wasn’t my intention to worry you or ruin your fun. I was keeping my distance specifically to avoid that.” You explained and Shanks finally realised what the problem was. You were jealous, over them? People who paled in comparison to you in every way. 

“My fun’s only ruined if you’re not with me.” Shanks murmured closing the small space between you both. He saw the hesitancy in your eyes and he gave you a reassuring smile before securing his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply, the action dispelling the unease you’d been feeling instantly. Over the sound of the crew whistling and shouts of others to pay up because of a bet neither you or Shanks were aware of you broke apart from the kiss and smile when he lay his head against yours. “Should’ve done this a long time ago when I finally got you.” 

MARCO

You knew what you were getting into when you and Marco gave into your attraction for each other. You knew that his time would be taken up mostly with caring for Pops on a daily basis and the other members of the crew when they were sick or injured. Any free time he would have was precious and you were never possessive of that. When he was able to spend time with you he did and your patience was alway appreciated from him. Sometimes when he’s overloaded with work you stop by to offer him some food and sit in his office for an hour or so, just to enjoy each other’s presence. You don’t need to talk, just being there is enough for you both. 

On this occasion you hadn’t seen Marco because of a nasty flu making its way through some of the crew and after a few days without seeing his face, you’d grown to miss him. So you made your way to the medical office and your step faltered when you heard the familiar sound of his laughter coming from inside. Lightly you knocked on the door once and entered the room to see one of the nurses standing beside Marco as he sat at his desk. You smiled warmly when Marco seemed happy to see you but your smile fell when you spotted the empty plate on his desk. “Ah, you’ve already eaten.”

“Of course he has.” The nurse giggled, smiling at Marco playfully. “Though he would have forgotten if it wasn’t for me. As amazing as he is as a Doctor, he’s hopeless at looking after himself.”

“He’s lucky you’re here to look after for him then.” You said, unable to sound as cheerful as the nurse. Clearing your throat you looked down at the small plate of food you’d brought for your boyfriend. You knew nothing was going on between him or any of the nurses that worked closely alongside him but you still felt the jealousy growing in your chest. This was a small thing you could do for Marco and you felt childish for feeling stung that he didn’t need you. You didn’t like the feeling and needed to distance yourself from the cause. “I’m glad you’ve eaten so I’ll let you get back to your work. Don’t let him overwork himself, okay?” You forced the joke out with a tight smile while the nurse smiled brightly and nodded in joy that you were trusting her. Marco watched silently as you turned and left him. Even with his tiredness, he could still see something was wrong with you. 

As soon as he completed the current task on his desk, Marco stood and stretched. After working without resting for these days, he knew no-one would begrudge him a break away from his office. Stretching out he walked through the corridors until he was walking into the room he shared with you. You looked up in surprise from your lounged spot on the sofa. Before you could react, Marco was crawling onto the sofa and laying ontop of you, his head resting against your chest as his arms encircled you, holding you close. “Marco, what are you-”

“You left far too quickly.” Marco groaned out, now that he was lying down he realised just how uncomfortable sitting at his desk was. “I missed you, sorry I was cooped up in my office all this time.”

“You’re don’t need to apologise for that Marco.”

“I feel like I do need to say sorry for something though.” he admitted, lifting his head slightly to look at you with concern. “You didn’t seem yourself when you stopped by.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” You promised, gently running your fingers through his hair. Under his patient stare you sighed and continued. “I’m not a doctor like you or trained in anything medical. For the most part I’m fine with that because I’m good in other ways but it’s just when you are overworking yourself there’s not much I can do to help you. One of those things is taking care of you and making sure you’re eating. It’s silly but it made me jealous to see someone else doing that for you.”

“It’s not silly at all. We can’t help our emotions but I’m glad you were able to talk to me about it.” Marco smiled, taking your hand to press a loving kiss against your wrist. “Never feel like you’re replaceable. I’m only ever able to rest like this because of your influence over me. No one looks after me the way you can and you’re the only one I want.”

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf

[diejager]

Nooo but there is something about the monster au where there is a casual mention from her that she won't live as long as them (I assume monsters/hybrids are longer lived plus she is a lot more likely to die on mission), like she probably just jokes about it offhandedly and it sends all of them feral because... no? Absolutely not? Insulting. Ridiculous. Not happening.

Cue ultimate clinginess, all rushing to be more intimate because the thought of her not being around is abhorrent. Soap maybe losing it a bit going off on a line of thought about how he could mate her right? Would it be awful if there was a way for her to be a wolf shifter?

I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND

Change cw: mention of turning, mention of death, joking about death, tell me if I missed any.

All options are on the table at this point, death had always been something that loomed over them like a shadow, the veil and sickle of death following you wherever you went. You’ve had more than one reminder of your short life, your vulnerability as a human, weak and tender skin, short lives and a delicate body. There were so many things in the world that could pose a possible danger to you and they hated that.

You lived shorter lives than most monsters or hybrids, you grew sick and frail whereas hybrids could fight any viral infections or diseases, you didn’t have thicker skin despite all the extra layers of protective gear and you were a target of many for your choice of career. They were reminded of you mortality whenever you get hurt, blood painting your skin with a strong, metallic odour.

And it didn’t help that you’d often joke about it, throwing offhanded comments that made their hackles raise, body tense and mind brewing with what ifs scenario that has them tearing their hair from the root. While some monsters were more solitary than others, all of them were possessive of what they deemed their family —pack.

Ghost and König stuck closer during training, a tall, imposing figure behind you that acted as a guard dog to ward away anyone they deemed a danger. Soap and Horangi hung around you in the rec room, either laying on you or clinging to you, putting a show of ownership over you. Rudy and Alejandro, the ever active couple, were always finding you around the base, striking up a conversation and wrapping their arms around you. Gaz would was the cuddliest of the group, finding time outside of his busy to snuggle up against you and cover you with his wings, pulling you to sleep on his shoulder. Price, the man with the most authority in the TF made sure that you were always with someone on every Op, having someone to back you up in the most dire situation.

Every visit to the medic made them wild, it brought them closer to desperate measures. Would it be so bad to turn you in one? Would it be so bad to let Soap bite you during the full moon, his bite infecting you with his power: thicker skin, sturdier build, longer lifespan and better sense? The only draw backs were the higher wildness, near feral during full moons and a competitive mindset over the possessiveness and brattiness of a young werewolf.

Would it be so bad to make you return as a wraith? While Ghost learned to control his powers alone, the pain and emotions building up in his body without any way of letting it out, you had him, you wouldn’t be alone with the resurrection. He didn’t want you to feel the terror and agony by yourself —he didn’t want you to know how it felt to die and come back.

Would it be so bad to have a vampire turn you into one without becoming a thrall? You couldn’t walk in the sun, something you told them you enjoyed, you’d be restrained to specific activities and you wouldn’t like that, being limited by the sun. Granted, there were solutions to that, but none very comfortable.

They knew you were aware of your mortality, made fun of it and laughed as it this was your last day, but you didn’t fear death, you only feared leaving them. You were open to their thoughts, listening to their ideas and options with a neutral expression, but you didn’t reject the idea of turning you. That was a good thing, a step forward in their mind.

Now all that needed to do was to let you decide which path you wanted to walk.

tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel

[princessbrunette]

stepbro!jj 😩😩😩😩 i’d be playing footsies with him at the breakfast table in the morning, acting all coy like he didn’t bend me over his bed last night

i rlly love the idea of reader being the horny sick n twisted one whilst jj is trying desperately to cling onto his morality <333:

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

jj was not nonchalant by any stretch of the word, but now sat at the breakfast table — your cunt still aching from the way he’d fucked you through the night, he was seeming to play it incredibly cool and collected. no trace of a knowing smile or secretive glances, just his regular behaviour, sat reclined in his seat wearing his usual get up and a backwards hat. the dismissal would have maybe hurt if it wasn’t turning you on a little.

“i’m headin’ downtown for that AA meetin’. load of horse shit but ‘least i’m tryin’.” luke maybank chats as he messily spreads butter on his toast at the counter, taking a moment to lick some off his thumb. your mother is also rushing around the kitchen ready to head out on her own shift at work— you’re avoiding eye contact with her the most, more shameful of the acts you’d commit under the shared roof only a few hours prior.

“well, we are all proud anyways.” she praises, looking around at you and jj for contribution. you nod, and jj clears his throat, shuffling closer to the table opposite you on his chair.

“yeah, real proud pops.” you can tell it’s difficult for him to say from the way he looks down at his food as he says it.

“don’t get sappy on me, squirt.” luke’s words come muffled through a cheekful of toast, and soon your mother begins to fire overbearing questions at him about the recovery course he’s taking. as they talk, you zone out — eyes flickering to jj who is spooning up soggy cereal onto a spoon.

things felt very familial during moments like this. the whole family going about their regular morning routines, jj and yourself sat opposite at the table like a regular old brother and sister duo. you knew you were sick in the head from wanting your step brother in the first place, and now you were secretly fucking him — the idea that he was able to sit opposite you without a soul knowing he was balls deep earlier on was turning you on once more.

you glance over at luke and your mother, seeing them wrapped up in their own conversations — and you toe at the entrance of jj’s jeans, running your foot along the inner side of his calf. when he looks up at you through a heavy brow, cheek still full with cereal you can tell he’s warning you to stop — but knowing he couldn’t verbally express this, and that any vision of your feet was obstructed by the long gingham table cloth — you felt obliged to continue. no one even notices when jj winces and you giggle, too stuck in their own conversation.

you manage to stretch your leg to get your foot in his lap, briefly rubbing at his cock before he grips your ankle and throws it off him, angrily licking his lips and tensing his jaw, doing a double take at the parents when they turn their heads, the attention attracted by your whiny and dramatic ‘ow!’

luke scoffs out a laugh, walking towards the kitchen exit, shaking his head and spitting into a tin waste bin by the door. you truly wondered what your mother saw in him. “kids, huh. who’d have ‘em.” he comments before exiting, making jj cringe at the general insinuation that the two of you were in any way related, or kids.

your mother is quick to follow, barely sparing the two of you a glance. “i can drop you off some lunch if you’re going to be all day, i finish early and —” her voice trails off before the two of you hear her yell out a goodbye to you and the door closes. jj barely waits for them to be gone to push heavily out of his chair, letting it scrape on the floor and wander over to your side, gripping your jaw from where he stands beside your seat, forcing you to look up at him.

“do you think this is funny? like — i’m almost certain you got some weird fetish for wanting to be caught but i don’t, alright — quit bein’ so obvious.” he scolds before letting you go, quickly lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair as he wanders to the counter to cool off and pour himself a coffee. he was already dressed, set to meet the pogues a little later whilst you wandered around in tiny pyjama shorts and a thin tank top that made him wanna slap you.

you giggle despite his sternness and push out your chair to follow him, poking him in the back as you speak. “oh c’mon jayj, s’just a little fun. no one noticed anyway. you’re acting like i got under the table n’made out with your dick. not a bad idea for next time actually.” you muse jokingly and he all but slams his coffee mug back down to whip around to face you.

“y’know i can just like, confiscate everything i’ve been doin’ for you. s’not hard to find pussy, and if you wanna keep actin’ like an actual annoying little sister i’m gunna start treating you like one.” he ticks his head, squinting in irritation and your eyes widen in faux offence and fear.

“aw, don’t do that to me jj. i thought you liked playing with me.” you pout, and oddly — despite knowing you were playing games with him, it makes him soften the tiniest bit, shoulders falling a centimetre or so.

“well, look— i do…” he rolls his eyes and you smile. taking your hands, you push your tits together, looking up at him with mocking babydoll eyes.

“yeah, just like playing with your lil sis too much, huh?” you coo and he yanks your hands off yourself, tongue in his cheek — clearly losing his patience a little.

“nah, keep it up. you’re not getting shit from me anymore i’m dead serious.” he raises his voice a little, that southern twang jumping out a little extra and you giggle elatedly at the threat. you spin around, pressing your ass to his crotch and looking over your shoulder.

“nuh-uh, you like this view too much.” you tease before your jaw drops, mocking quiet ‘uh-uh-uh-uh’ moans as you repeatedly thump your ass against him, the blonde watching with a deadpan, unimpressed expression and arms folded over his chest. he goes to say something, but the sudden banging of the front door closing wipes the amused expression off your face quicker than he can and you jump up straight, looking like a deer caught in headlights when your mother walks back through the door.

“forgot my keys.” she shakes her head before her eyes land on the two of you standing near eachother, jj looking smug and you looking guilty. “everything… okay?” she raises an eyebrow at the weird atmosphere.

“yes! yeah everything’s fine.” you squeak, sounding oh so innocent and afraid. jj snorts, turning back around to the counter and continuing to pour his coffee.

“well alright, see you guys later.” she smiles before disappearing once more, leaving you looking bashful.

once she’s gone, jj glances over his shoulder at you and pouts, barely concealing his grin.

“aw, that scare ‘ya, lil sis?”

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

[webslingingslasher]

imagining frat!peter trying to last longer during sex so he starts to actually watch friends and forgets he’s literally inside y/n and she notices and just goes “…peter?”

the below contains smutty content.

usually there was music playing downstairs and while it was muffled it still filled the room, making it easier for you to confidently whimper and moan like peter loves.

tonight, you had snuck in around two in the morning, (peter’s pissed you didn’t tell him until you called him and told him to open the door cause it was two fucking am and you walked alone) because you were a new kind of desperate, foaming at the mouth with urgency horny. hornier than you’ve ever been in your entire life, obviously, because it made you get out of bed and walk across campus.

“for the love of christ do not tell me you walked here,” was the first thing he told you. your response was giving a sheepish smile and looking down to your feet, your pajama pants wet around the ankles from sprinklers on the campus green.

“my pants are wet,” you pull at the fabric and blink at your boy in the doorway. he sighs, and moves to the side letting you in it’s unusually quiet, while they did whind down during the week, usually one or two people would be up, tonight everyone was in bed.

the second the front door was shut you attacked peter and wrapped your arms around his torso, clinging around his neck. bringing your knee up to tap against his hip, his hand cups under your leg and picks you up, locking your ankles around his back.

“what are you doing here?” not upset, just curious. you’ve never rushed over in the middle of the night before.

in turn you kissed him, so brash it caught him off guard but he returned it. confusion spread as you kissed around his face, thinking of the most plausible thing he makes his grip tighter, his voice soft.

“did you have a bad dream?” your blown out pupils look at his mouth, shaking your head lightly you whisper out a ‘no.’

“then what is it?” his left hand scratches softly at the back of your thigh.

“i’m really horny,” you lick your lips and look at him like, ‘okay, now do something, please?’

peter nearly chokes on his spit, you’ve never flat out asked for it. instead using other signals like licking up his neck, or taking your shirt off and bouncing your breasts at him. tonight you were aching for it, and you were his girl. and he could never leave his girl high and dry.

“and what? couldn’t solve the issue on your own?” he feels you pout into the skin of his neck after you kiss it.

“you just do it so much better, and way less work on my end.”

peter exhales through his nose as a laugh, “i think it was more work to walk all the way here,” you give him a dopey smile, “isn’t it obvious how much i like you?” there were two ways to take the sentence, to protect both parties at stake peter takes it in the ‘wildly horny’ way.

two pats on your backside and you hop down, no other words spoken, just peter extending his arm towards the staircase and gestured for you to go up.

————

it was completely silent in his room, every kiss and whimper amplifies from the walls. embarrassed to wake his brothers you have a shy smile, “do you think you can make it like… not so quiet?”

peter’s already half naked, while he pulls away and reaches for his tv remote you remove your shirt and shimmy your underwear off.

hearing the familiar ‘dun dun’ of the app you look up, one row down and one click in was his saved shows and movies. number one was friends, immediately selecting it and pressing play episode from the last time he had it on for background noise.

you chewed on your cheek as he raised the volume, your legs pulled up so your knees were tugged into your chest.

“louder?” peter spoke over his shoulder.

“a little,” he clicks it three more times, you hum, “that’s good.” he tosses the remote to his desk and turns, you spread your legs and grin at him.

he’s right where you want him, he recives the message and slithers back up the bed, his hands wrapping around your knees and hooking them behind his shoulders. peter looks over your slick and blows cold air on it, you jolt and reach out to grab a handful of his hair.

“jesus christ, you weren’t lying.”

————

third episode of friends and you can’t remember the last time you had a fulfilling breath of air.

peter’s had you withering on the bed for an hour, taking his time using every part of himself to satisfy you.

tears blister your eyes while you dig your nails into his back, your hips rising from the bed to meet his, peter’s own breath hitched as he fucked into you.

peter pulled back slowly, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his brows furrowed. you know that look, it’s the look that says ‘no, i’m not fucking done yet.’ but you just feel so good, it’s the ‘your pussy is fucking lethal’ look.

catching sight of the TV, he thrust just as slowly as he pulled out, you hiss and pull at the back of his thighs to bring him in closer. when peter doesn’t move you try to do it for him, grinding your hips into his, but his attention is on the tv show, not the person his dick was in.

you whine and pull at his neck, when he gives you reaction you tug lightly on his dangling necklace.

“peter,” you buck your hips up and he gives a pity thrust, it’s enough to make you hum in delight, but he gives nothing else.

“peter, i need you, please?” the last word was in beg of his attention, can’t be he see how much you need him?

“shush, this is my favorite episode,” you grunt when he thrusts as deep as you can take him, while he hums watching monica and chandler kiss for the first time.

“if we switch to doggy will you please fuck me while you watch?”

a deep sigh, “if you insist.”

twenty minutes later you’re lured into sleep while posted on peter’s chest as he drags his hand up and down your naked back, melting in further when you hear him quote along with the show under his breath.

[justporo]

Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav

Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!

(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)

You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts

When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy

Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?

When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"

Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."

Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something

Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced

Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")

Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much

One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses

Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...

This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)

[55sturn]

disclaimer: gory, violent, mentions of death + murder, blood, psychotic!chris + reader.

chris hadn’t meant for you to find out what he had been doing. he was so careful, always hiding the knives or the guns, scrubbing his hands raw to remove the traces of blood splattering against the milky skin. he made sure to cover every track, every single piece of evidence. he needed to be sure because he didn’t want you knowing that he hunted down every guy that looked at you like you were theirs. he didn’t want you knowing that he was manipulating the game, so that in the end, he’d claim his rightful prize. you.

but you knew. you’ve studied too many serial killers and their cases, you’ve watched every slasher, slice and dice type film under the sun since the ripe age of ten. you know the signs, you see the way he watches the time when you get home after a date, before suddenly disappearing and clambering in through your window during the early hours of the morning, you’ve never once believed his “just need to take a walk.” excuse or his “matt called me about something planned for tomorrow.” lie. chris was never skittish about you going into his room alone and going through his things, at least not until the beginning of last year.

you put the pieces together, and you’ve done some stalking of your own, watching as chris rips the life from every man you’ve ever had any sort of emotional, physical, or even romantically verbal connection with. you knew deep down you should’ve been terrified, but there was something about the way his muscles flexed as he stabbed or knocked the guys unconscious, or the way he’d smirk to himself as he finished the job. you were deeply turned on by the way he took the phrase “i’d kill for you.” quite literally.

you had decided to repair the favour, waiting until some poor girl took her chances with chris, watching and waiting as she walked away in shame before tailing her on the way home. you were quick to make your move, slashing her throat with ease before calling chris.

“hey can you come to the address i’m sending you? i need help with something.” you plead, feigning desperation, giggling to yourself as he immediately obliges before hanging up the phone.

when chris showed up, he wasn’t sure what to expect, given that you normally only went to three places, his house, work, and your best friend’s place. so as he took tentative steps over the threshold, his body on high alert, he was shocked to find you standing over the girl from the party’s body, your thin white tank now a dark crimson, clinging to your body as the poor girl’s blood cakes to your skin.

“what the fuck did you do?” he exclaims, his face twisting in shock, and he knows it hypocritical to react this way, given how he spends his free time, but he didn’t think his perfect girl would ever turn into the same type of monster he is.

“what the fuck have you been doing chris? you think i don’t know about your little hobby? stalking every guy i ever do anything with and killing them so that i’d be left with you?” you laugh, wiping the splatters of blood from your lips, smearing it across the plump flesh, unknowingly affecting chris as he watches you.

“i-“

“don’t worry chris, i’m not mad. i’m touched actually, i find it almost endearing the way you’d manipulated everything to ensure that we’d be together. i wanted to return the favour.” you purr, stepping closer to him as he smirks, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you into a searing kiss before tugging you to his car, wanting to get you both away from the scene of the before it’s too late.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @vanteguccir @sugrhigh @bratzforchris @teapartyprincess4two @lustfulslxt @patscorner @guccifrog @muwapsturniolo @soursturniolo @solarsturniolo @sturnioloshacker @likeumeanit9497 @l9vesick @raysmayhem-72 @ghostofbrock @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @sturnifyed @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chriss @evie-sturns @sturniolossss @iliketotalk @bambi-slxt @nickssidewitch @nickgetsmewetter @inkyray @jnkvivi @cdbabymp3 @christopherswife777 @certified-chrisgirl @faeriedst @bernardsbendystraws @mattscoquette @chrissv4mp

© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[orpheuswasmine]

More Amnesia Bill AU

Amnesia Bill! I think it is a really bittersweet idea. I imagine they were going to do their ritual thing to get rid of him but after the ritual fails they opp on trying to kill him. Fortunately, no one can really bring themselves to kill him, since he’s so lost and confused about everything. Genieuly helpless and everyone just takes pity.

I said in my last post he would remember some things via dreams and shit, but I think the only thing he would remember in the start would be his parents. Can you imagine Ford mentally preparing himself to kill Bill, just to hear him talk about his parents so suddenly? I don’t think he would say a lot, but just like, “I was close with my mom. I don’t know where she is,” or something like that.

More about the whole regaining memories bit by bit, I swear up and down he would have a meltdown in the middle of the night because he regained the memory that HE DESTROYED HIS DIMENSION. Even though he keeps getting told it’s just a nightmare, it definitely wasn’t just a nightmare, he’s reliving the worst of the worst every night.

Slow a burn story. I fw the whole enemies to lovers but in this case, it’s a one-sided enemies shit. Ford (and everyone else as mentioned in the last post) hates Bill—Ford shows it, whether subtly or outright, he leans more into the subtleness of it all. After a while, he does realize Bill is genuinely powerless and not faking shit. He would be more sympathetic, but he definitely will still harbor the animosity for a while; however, Bill definitely fell in love during the time Ford was more sympathetic to him.

The start between them is like, Bill wanted to be friends with Ford because he seemed to know him like the back of his hand. Bill doesn’t have romantic feelings for Ford in the start, rather just this kind of desperation to cling to anything or anyone that can help him remember something, anything. Ford definitely didn’t like him, and any time Bill tried interacting with him, he either ignored him or walked away. Avoidance is key, but he can’t avoid the man forever. Eventually, they start to talk—more like Bill does the talking—Ford becomes a lot more invested whenever Bill talks about his memories. There were definitely times he got a bit worried Bill would remember their time together.

Bill's continuous nightmares would get so bad, Ford decided to stay with him for a night.

Last post, I said Mabel would be the only one to believe Bill, loosely. She shows her sympathy to him early on, but she’s still super weary of him. he helped him settle in a bit and when he needed to cry and tell someone about a new memory he regained, he’d always tell Mabel. Like his parents. A small conversation like this perchance?

“I wanted to show them the stars, that’s all I wanted. No one knew what I was talking about then. I wonder if they can see the stars now.”

“I’m sure they can now—hey, maybe they see you right now? I bet your parents would be happy to see where you are right now.”

“You reallY think they can see me?”

“Oh definitely. With your looks and personality, how can they miss you?”

While everyone is weary of Bill and lowkey trying to get rid of him, Bill is enjoying his time bonding with Mabel, even if she sometimes slips up and shows her suspicions towards him.

Bill's relationship with Stanley and Dipper is really rough. Like, genuinely, they don’t hide the fact they don’t like him, especially Dipper. Bill could be sweeping and then Dipper is in the back praying for his downfall. Dipper definitely shuns him and on some bad days, he does lash out at Bill. I don’t think their relationship would get super better over time, rather, I think it would become something like tolerance. As much as Dipper hates him, he doesn’t really have much of a say in what happens. He doesn’t show his hate toward him too much, occasionally they can have a decent conversation, but when push comes to shove, Dipper will definitely lash out at Bill again.

The same can be said about Stan, though I do think he would somewhat come around to like Bill. Not by much, just a bit. Just like Dipper, he would lash out, but he took a more teasing approach towards Bill, knowing it would definitely annoy the demon. Even if it went over Bill’s head, he definitely sensed him getting really agitated about it. He messes with Bill more so, his way of letting out his hate for him. Bill can tell Stan doesn’t like him, but he rather have to deal with stan’s antics than to be ignored all the time.

That's all for tonight gang BYEE

[marksmelodies]

can you write smut about jeno and fem reader being parents who finally have someone to babysit their kid so they can have alone time<3??

YESSS I LOVE DAD DREAMIES SOO MUCH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING

“fuck babe” jeno grunts as his lips move to your neck, his teeth slightly nibbling on your skin, you reach over sliding one of your hands up and down his bulge “babe she’s going to wake up soon, we can’t” you huff pulling away from him

you and jeno have been desperate these past few weeks, having a toddler wasn’t easy, she’s a handful to say the least, you knew going into parenthood that you would have to devote all of your time to your child but you and jeno were in need of alone time, sex became less and less frequent in your relationship as your daughter got older, she was in constant need of attention from the both of you and as much as you love her you have your needs too, you needed your husband more than ever

jeno rubs his eye as he lets out a sigh in frustration “yeah you’re right” he says, a few moments later you hear your daughter screaming for her dad “she’s up” you chuckle patting his back

“hi mama” your daughter says as she currently clings to jeno while he prepares for dinner “here baby go to mommy” jeno says passing her over to you “but i want daddy” she whines as you take her into your arms “daddy has to make dinner baby, how about we watch a movie huh?” you suggest taking her to the couch as she settles down picking out what movie to watch

sitting on the couch you have a clear view of jeno, his back facing you he stands in the kitchen cutting vegetables adding them to the pan that sits on the stove, not even noticing your eyes move to his broad shoulders and then to his muscles that are slightly flexed, your eyes keep wandering his body until you realize what you are doing, the familiar feeling washes over your body, you were in fact very horny just by the sight of your husband

“mommy why are you staring at daddy like that?” your daughter looks up at you looking back and forth between you and jeno, you giggle before bringing her into your lap “because mommy thinks daddy is very handsome, mommy loves him very much” you say kissing her head “no mommy i love daddy more than you, only i can love him” she pouts and you chuckle once again “i knew him way before you existed sweetheart and without mommy loving your dad you wouldn’t be here” you say tickling her stomach “you know your dad loves you so so much, i do too, more than anything” you say to her “i love you too mommy” she cuddles to your side turning her attention back to the movie

a few moments later you hear soft snoring coming from your daughter, you immediately went to wake her up since it wasn’t her designed nap time but you stopped yourself, carefully peeling her off of you, you lay her down and make your way over to the kitchen

wrapping your arms around your husband you hug him from behind “i told you to stop wearing those god damn compression shirts jeno” you say as you move your hands over his abs “why baby” he smerks at you as you move from behind him to in front of him, “because i can never behave myself when you wear them” you say as you place your hand under his shirt, jeno quickly pulls you into a heated kiss making sure to be quiet so your daughter won’t wake up, jeno then picks you up placing you on the island counter top as his hands travel your body, your hand rakes his hair as you slightly pull on it

“would you call me crazy if i said i wanted to have another one” you whisper to jeno between kisses “not at all baby, i’ve been thinking the same thing” jeno pulls away before anything goes further, he walks over to the stove checking on the food that is cooking “you really wanna start trying for another baby?” he asks quickly looking to you “yeah i really do” you say giving him one last kiss before waking your daughter up for dinner

the sexual tension between you and jeno during dinner was almost too much to handle, if it were just the two of you jeno would have already had you bent over the table fucking you relentlessly but there sits your daughter happily eating the food that’s in front of her, as dinner comes to an end jeno starts cleaning the dishes off as you get your daughter into the bath

“princess do you want to sleep over your aunts house tonight” jeno barges into the bathroom “a sleepover” she gasps excitedly “yeah and i think grandma and grandpa will be there for a little too” jeno bends down to her level laughing at the sight of bubbles all over her “yes i want to please mommy please can i go?” your daughter begs you look at jeno rolling your eyes knowing exactly what he’s trying to do “yes you can sleepover” you say getting her out of the tub

once she’s all packed and ready to go jenos sister picks her up, saying your goodbyes the door closes and the two of you are alone at last “oh thank god, am i a bad mom for wanting a break?” you ask jeno as you rest your forehead to his chest “not at all baby, you’re the best mom ever” he kisses the top of your head, jeno then grabs your face placing his lips onto yours as he leads you to the bedroom

he places you on the bed kissing your lips as he moves down to your collar bone “you’re so pretty” he groans as he takes your shirt off along with his own, he massages your boobs placing kisses on them as he takes your pants off, “my wife is so beautiful” he looks at you before kissing your cheek, jeno moves your underwear aside as he place two of his fingers inside of you “fuck” you moan throwing your head back, he quickens up the pace as you feel the knot in your stomach releasing as you cum on his fingers, jeno takes off his pants as he lets his dick spring onto his stomach he hovers over you lining himself up to your cunt before sliding his dick into you “fuck baby you’re so tight” he shoves his head into the crook of your neck as he picks up the pace “jeno” you let out a loud scream as his hips snaps into you “i’ve needed you so bad lately” he kisses your neck before latching onto one of your boobs while massaging the other “im gonna cum” you moan as you squeeze around his cock “shit me too” he pants,jeno releases into you as you finish at the same time, he collapses onto you kissing your collarbone“god i missed that pussy” he looks to you “round two” you smirk at him “oh we’re going all night long baby, i’m gonna get you so pregnant” he replies smashing his lips onto yours

[zombiekooo]

Taming You (Rick Grimes x Fem Reader)

Warnings: • Angry/Rough Sex, Dacryphilia (crying kink), Choking, Sub/Dom Play, Dirty Talk, Age Gap,

A/N: This is quite rough, so I will give you a warning. It is NOT noncon whatsoever (our Rick would never) but I’d like to say Reader does say ‘no��� and ‘stop’ but it isn’t because she hasn’t consented. Everything is safe sane and consensual on this page ;)

(9k words)

 Rick watches as you walk through Alexandria’s gates with a gun in hand. You wear no expression, your head down to avoid any wandering eyes. You’ve got a smear of blood across your cheek, red droplets leaving a trail behind you.

He's startled. It felt like a splash of freezing cold water was poured over his head and awoke him from a deep slumber. Quickly, shame falls upon him. 

The last couple of nights were a struggle for him. The thoughts of you seemed to enchant his mind whenever he'd close his eyes and fall back upon his bed after a particularly stressful day. It quickly became a routine to stroll outside, allowing the cool air to ground him from his perverted thoughts-- which he had been doing just now until you interrupted him. So when he sees the face from his dreams across from him, the very face he was trying his hardest to avoid thinking about, the guilt finally confronts him like a stinging crack across the cheek. 

But oh, you would look so beautiful beneath him. Your eyes which were always narrowed would soften into a delicate, heavy-lidded expression just for him. Your frown would ease, and your lips would part and instead of scoffs, you would unleash pretty little moans he knew you were capable of.

That expression he was so desperate to see again would pop into his mind during his disgraceful fantasies. The first time he ever saw you, trapped behind cell bars in Terminus, the image of your youthful cheeks, rosy and plumped, tears glistening them and making them look like glossy red apples that he so badly wanted to bite into. It was beginning to drive him mad from how often he'd seen that exact expression in his dreams. The pure desperation in your face, grabbing his wrist so gently through the bars of the cell you were caged in. He remembers how wet your eyelashes were, the way your lips parted to speak when the building had blown up which had forced everyone to evacuate, and in a whirlwind of crashes and screams, seeming as if time had stopped, you whispered,

"Can't I come with you?"

His fantasies would play like a CD inside his head, thinking of how he could recreate that same expression on your face but from pleasure instead of fear. Would you be as defiant in the bedroom as you were in life? Or would you be submissive and pleading? Grabbing him with such neediness that you would cry out of frustration just for him to pleasure you, your lashes would cling together wetly and your cheeks would redden into an adorable rose shade that he would so happily lick the tears off of--

Stop, Rick.

He shakes his head, grimacing. 

It wasn't like this before, these thoughts never existed until now-- or at least that's what he tells himself. It was just because he was safe, you were safe, in a community, together. No constant threat that kept you paranoid day in and day out. No question of where to go next or who keeps watch over the camp next. No, that was gone now.

Still, he knows it's terrible to think of you that way, even after all the time he's known you. You were nearly half his age, cold-hearted and stubborn-- you would never think of him more than the man who saved you. 

But-- he knew you had a soft spot for him, and just that fact alone gave him some kind of hope, even if he may never act on it. Even if he shouldn't act on it.

Although he tells himself that you were off limits, here he was, standing on the street and watching you strut your way inside the walls. Past midnight. Similar to how you did nearly every day this week. His curiosity grew, and maybe the excuse to take a walk at night wasn't just to clear his mind anymore, but instead to wait for your silhouette to silently breach the walls of Alexandria and dip back into the shadows of your house, thinking that nobody had seen you.

You were breaking his rules. In fact, all week you had broken it, four times exactly. However, he never confronted you about it. If he was being honest with himself, it was because he was scared to look you in the eyes, he knew that if he were to do that, all he would imagine were those teary eyes he'd played over and over in his head for the past month.

But, he knows he couldn't keep letting you believe you were being sneaky. 

Rick gathers the strength to reveal himself, exposing himself from the shadows he had lurked under for the past week. He was dressed simply. A brown jacket with a wool collar draped over a plain gray-sleeved shirt, paired with navy blue jeans.

The moment he revealed himself your head shot up to look up at him, instantly sensing his presence. He finds amusement in the way your face contorted into a surprised expression, your fast pace slowing down until you were nearly at a stop. Absentmindedly, you bring a hand to your cheek as if trying to cover the obvious bleeding wound from him. 

"It's past midnight. How'd you get around the guards?" Rick asks almost cheekily, enjoying the way your face paled. 

"Snuck out," You quickly respond with a shrug of your shoulder, keeping your eyes down. 

Rick raised an eyebrow, knowing instantly you were lying. He'd seen the gates open for you-- you had convinced someone to let you pass. 

He noticed the way you squirmed beneath his gaze and the downcast of your eyes. You were a shitty liar. 

"Try again." He sneers. "Where'd you get that cut on your cheek?" His tone turned colder and the loose smile he wore in the beginning began to straighten. 

"Tripped," You lie again. This time, he saw the way you leaned your weight side to side, your antsy fingers tapping at your gun. He took a step forward, closing the small gap between the two of you. The blood from your cheek had left a sheer trail of red down your jaw, slithering to your neck and finally dipping under your low-cut collar and between your breasts. There, he noticed your stuttered breaths and the uneven fall of your chest. 

"How?" He asks again, examining the rest of your body with his intense stare. Your collar was torn, and your sleeves ripped up to your shoulders, leaving nothing more than some flimsy fabric to cover your exposed arm. As his gaze continued down (his concern stopping him from lingering at your curves) he noticed your belt had been lost, your jeans sluggish around your hips. A faint red mark of a boot was indented into your thigh. 

It was obvious that you had gotten into a scramble with somebody.

"A walker popped out in front of me. I got surprised and took a tumble." You reply after a short pause, his gaze making you nervous. 

Normally, if it was anybody else other than Rick, you would be scoffing and pushing past them with no more than a roll of your eyes. But something about the man in front of you intimidated you, even if he was the reason why you were still alive today. He reminded you of a panther. Nothing escaped his gaze... nothing. Which is why you felt so uneasy, you knew he would find out the truth even if it wasn't today. You had a hunch he knew that you'd been sneaking out at night, and it was only a matter of time before he would confront you about it. You just wish it wasn't today.

"That's a lie," Rick says, becoming more and more frustrated as you went on. 

You swallowed, recognizing the annoyed tilt of his head and the tut of his tongue. He was getting angry, you realize, and it ran a series of fearful trembles down your body. 

You don't make an attempt to step away when he takes another step closer. Nor do you react (other than a full body shiver) when his fingers graze the back of your neck, pulling down the hood that you tried concealing your face with. You watch the way his razor-blue eyes squint as they examine your face for any other wounds or bruises.

"I've seen you coming in and out these past nights," Rick says, proving your theory right. Of course he knew. He always knows. "Care to tell me why?" He adds. 

You hesitate, fear crawling into your throat and lodging a lump to prevent you from speaking. You never had gotten in trouble with him before, but you knew how strict he was-- how terrifying he could be. You've seen it before. You vividly remember the way he held up that red machete and brought it down to slice the throat of the man who had trapped you, staining the same jacket he wore now with his blood. If you close your eyes, you can see the fury-- something kin to primal rage in the expression he made. The animalistic breaths he took as he wiped the blade clean, throwing the tissue he used to clean it onto the man and leaving him there to choke on his blood. 

As morbid as it was, you couldn't stop thinking about it. The nod he gave to you afterward as if saying "You're okay now." The graze of his hand in yours as he leads you away from the scene. Your fascination for the man only grew since. Despite him being years older, he never seemed to completely leave your conscious. Always lingering inside your mind when you tried to fall asleep, or appearing in your dreams which had you waking up with your body feeling hot and the place beneath your navel feeling warm and tingly. 

Maybe... you wanted to get caught just to see what he would do. 

"I-" You choke. The moment you spoke his eyes snapped up to yours, his unforgiving gaze boring into you. 

You were so aware of the heavy touch of his hand at your nape, unmoving. It felt like you were a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, reluctant to let you go. His body moved in front of you in such a way that it felt suffocating, his broad chest limiting your view.

"I was hunting," You confess, telling the first truth of the night. 

"And tonight too?" He asks, feeling satisfied with your answer. 

You nod, your lips pinching together. You began feeling the blood rise to your cheeks, the realization finally hitting you at how close he was. You could almost touch his chest with yours if only you moved an inch or so forward.

"Now answer me again," He says in a quieter tone, no more than a whisper. His face leaned down to yours, his nose barely grazing the lobe of your ear. His breath was warm against your skin, a contrast from the chilled air. "Where did you get the cut?" 

You may have blushed from the deep growl of his voice and the proximity of his face to yours if it weren't for the circumstances, but right now all you felt was your blood turn cold and the hairs on your arms stand.

He knew you were lying. You were out of options-- out of excuses. But, despite the tremble of fear you felt, your pride was strong. 

"I already told you," You snap back, trying your hardest to conceal your fear and perhaps excitement as well. "I. Tripped." 

You felt a blow of air from Rick's nostrils, another irate tut spilling from his lips. He pulls away from your face to reveal the deep frown he wore. His brows furrowed, making his deep-set eyes look frighteningly dark. The grip on your nape tightens to the point of near discomfort but it unleashes another shiver from you along with a breathy moan of surprise. 

Suddenly, he has you turned around, your back flat against his chest and his hand tight at your throat. His free hand slithers down to your hip and presses an unforgiving finger on the bruise on your thigh, causing you to cry out loudly and arch your back, instinctively pushing your bottom against him in an attempt to free yourself.

Rick watches you squirm momentarily, your cries cut short by the pressure he applied to your throat. A sick sense of satisfaction rules through his body when looking at your vulnerable state. Your back arched in an attempt to be released, your toes pointed to withstand the pull on your neck, the dusting of tears that hugged your waterline.

Shit, he thought. Calm it, Rick. She's just a girl.

"I'll give you one more chance," Rick says, feeling sorry for you. His thoughts were running wild, the fantasies he rewatched over and over in his head were becoming a reality. But his consciousness caught up to him, knowing if he continued scolding you in this matter, it would lead to something he couldn't take back. He had to give you an opportunity to escape. 

The pressure on your throat eased, but the prodding at your hip never relented. You shot a hand down to Rick's forearm, trying to pull his hand off your bruise, but it felt like trying to pull the tight jaws of a dog away from its bone. It was useless and dangerous.

Rick was unbothered by the attempt. He watched as you licked your lips, your breaths coming in short puffs. He leaned his head forward, once again next to your ear. You turned your head, awkwardly straining your neck to look up at him. 

He feels his heart lurch when you expose the devious glint in your eye to him, your teeth peeking through your curled lips in a half smile. Your face was so close to his which had him frozen. He couldn't take his eyes off the way your tongue darted out to lick at the beads of blood that trickled from your wound into your mouth. If he wasn't imagining things, he could almost say that your gaze turned lustful.

"No," You mouth, 

He's stunned. It seemed like reality had caught up to him in that moment. The position he'd manhandled you in, the rough touches along your young supple skin, the words of intimidation he whispered in your ear-- to anyone else, this would've looked more sensual than just a scolding. 

It takes him several seconds to process what you said. 

"No?" Rick scoffs, looking down at you incredulously, his eyes glancing down to your chest where he can clearly see your exposed cleavage. He swallows, instantly glancing back up to your unmoving gaze. 

"What will you do if I don't tell you? You gonna' put me over your knee and spank me?" You half scoff, using that same cold-- almost monotone voice you use when talking. Rick was unsure whether this was an attempt of seduction, or you were dead serious and were trying to get a rise out of him as you often had. It wasn't until you boldly pushed your hips back again, but this time intentionally grinding your bottom over his crotch that he finally figured out your intention.

Irritation fell upon him again when he saw your smug look. He wanted the tears back at your waterline, desperate to hear those soft gasps he had never heard before from you. He wanted to render you speechless until nothing but incoherent mumbles spilled from those pretty lips of yours.

He wanted to tame you, break you down into an obedient pretty thing. 

Rick said nothing as he stared at you with the same expression he had on before, but this time with widened eyes. It had you nervous, thinking you overstepped a boundary (which you one hundred percent had) but when his hand slithered up your clavicle, caressing your jugular and up to your jaw, gripping it tightly in one hand, your questions left. There was a look in his eye you couldn't quite place. Something between desire, and lust-- but also something sadistic and predatory. It had you almost wanting to shrink away, coward, and apologize to the man. But he didn't give you the option. 

"Do you know what you're asking?" Rick says, no lilt or pause in his tone. His stare was intense, his touch even more so. 

The question struck a string of both fear and arousal inside you. The familiar feeling beneath your navel began bubbling with warmth. A feeling you know far too well during late nights alone with nothing but your thoughts of Rick. Imagining how the scratch of his beard would feel between your legs. If those piercing eyes of his would look up at you when tasting you, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. Maybe he would go fast, eager to taste all of you, or maybe he would be slow and steady, sadistic in his actions where he keeps putting off your orgasm until you weep and beg.

"Why don't you show me what I'm asking for?" You reply with a small nibble to your lip that doesn't go unnoticed by Rick.

Rick feels his breaths become shallower and arousal beginning to tent his jeans. He could hardly believe that this wasn't a dream. You were in front of him, writhing and gasping impatiently for him, practically asking him to take you. But his doubts begin to come back, chanting to him,

She's nearly half your age, dickhead. 

But all doubts were wiped away when you shyly nudged his chest with your head, your hand running up his forearm and up to his bicep where you squeezed it, quietly admiring the muscle there. His attention is brought back to your youthful face, your eyes full of desire.

"Please?" You ask in a meek voice, your lips darting to wet your inviting lips.

And just like that, his resolve vanished.

He spins you around, his touch finally relenting from your bruise. His hand is back on your throat, forcing your face to look up at him. You notice the quick short pants he releases from his lips, his dilated pupils eating up most of the blue in his irises. Again, fear prods you. He stares at you for a second longer, analyzing your face for any sign of regret, but there is none. 

He takes you firmly by the hip, dragging you forward with a shove to your lower back. 

"Move," He commands coldly, sending another wave of fear and excitement down your spine. 

Rick continues guiding you with a firm hand placed on the dimples of your back, eventually leading you to his house where he makes you climb the steps to his door. 

Once he swiftly brings you inside, you're shoved cruelly onto the couch. You lose your balance and fall onto the pillowy surface, turning around with wide eyes and watching him shimmy off his jacket, gently hanging it up on the coat rack, unlike the way he had just manhandled you. He's staring you down as if you had just wronged him, rolling up his sleeves to rest at his elbows and revealing the ripples of muscle in his forearms.

He then approaches you, his boots loudly thudding onto the wood panel floors.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, you know that?" He grunts, a loose smile playing on his lips. It wasn't a kind smile by any means, it was almost patronizing-- unsettling. 

You didn't know how to answer, so you kept your mouth shut. Your feet were tucked beneath your bottom, staring up at him like prey.

That's what you felt like. Prey. You've never felt anything like this before-- normally you had the upper hand over people, very rarely feeling fearful or intimidated by them. But Rick had you in a chokehold, and it scared you. 

One leg kneels on the couch cushion next to you. You felt the dip of his weight and the manly smell of what you imagine is his laundry detergent and some kind of musky cologne waft to your nose. He was leaning over you now, the thick build of his body clouding the rest of your vision. One hand found purchase on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh covered by your jeans, the warmth of his palms seeping through the thick fabric. 

"Turn around," He demands,

You look up at him defiantly, feeling bold.

"If I don't?" You say,

He cocks an eyebrow, and in one fluid motion, he spins you around himself. His fingers tangle in your hair, pressing your face down into a pillow rather harshly. He loops an arm around your waist, propping you up so you rest your weight on your knees. He's rough, but not to the point of pain or discomfort. He's simply showing you that he can do whatever he wishes without your approval. 

You feel his narrow hips push against your bottom as he presses the weight of his body onto your back, pushing you further into the couch and nearly knocking the breath out of your lungs. You squirm weakly beneath his hold, but he doesn't relent and you hear a soft, demeaning chuckle from behind you. The hand that is looped around your waist rests at your stomach, then slowly trails down over your pelvis, then down to your core. Your body reacts instantly, jutting your hips back like a horny animal trying to present itself to its mate. 

"Naughty girl," He whispers into your ear, "Who knew you would be so easy to pin down like this? You're not even fighting it." 

"That's not--" 

"Shut up." Rick says insultingly, rendering you silent instantly. 

One hand slips off your jacket, throwing it carelessly on the floor. Then he moves to the simple black tank beneath it, nearly ripping it off your body. He keeps one hand at the back of your head, keeping your face down and your ass propped up for him-- an easy position for him to admire and access all of you. 

Then goes your jeans, tearing every article of clothing off of you other than your undergarments-- keeping some of your dignity still intact.

You felt humiliated in this position. Your arse up like a bitch in heat, Rick's heavy weight immobilizing you, his harsh commands that you actually listened to. You felt ridiculous, but you couldn't ignore the blossoming heat that came to life between your legs. You felt betrayed by your body, the way your pussy responded to his roughness, clenching around nothing as it anticipated him. No matter how much you wanted to fight it, wanted to be somewhat stubborn, your body just wouldn't comply. Your body knew its position, and that was beneath the man above you with your pussy on display just for him, your brain just didn't want to accept that fact yet. 

You felt Rick cup your cunt from behind, and you couldn't help the way you thrust your ass against it. You heard another dark laugh at your blatant neediness. He rubbed back and forth at a tantalizing pace, feeling the wetness seep through your clothed cunt and moistening his hand. He was shocked at how easily you submitted before him. Never did he imagine you would rut your hips against him, expose your pussy so willingly to his eyes. You tried to maintain your stubborn façade, but the moment he laid his hand on your cunt, you had melted into a puddle of jelly, your mouth spilling open and your body falling limp. 

That's right, He thinks callously, Take it like a good girl.

"You like that, don't you?" He asks in that same patronizing tone. It angers you, but the anger is quickly replaced with pleasure, nearly melting your mind into goo. His big hand, cupping your cunt as if he owned it-- owned you. 

You don't answer him, and instead, you try to glare at him from behind. But it backfired once you locked eyes with him. His handsome face looked down at you, wearing the same deep frown of his. If you didn't trust the man as you did, you would be terrified just from his scary presence and the easy way he manipulated your body to spread yourself for him. 

"Not answering me, still?" He scoffs, his glare deepening.

When you still don't answer, he responds by ditching his hand from your drenched pussy, making you gasp mournfully. Instead, he places both hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading your legs as far as they could go. You remained in the arched position you were in, a bit scared of what he would do if you disobeyed his silent command. 

You feel the tickle of his fingers skim against your skin as he pulls down your panties, leaving your glistening pussy nowhere to hide. You bury your face in humiliation, feeling the blood rush to your head. When you don't think it could get much worse, Rick pulls apart your cheeks, exposing your entrance fully. 

You couldn't contain the mortified squeal that escaped your lips. Rick had left you nowhere to hide, nothing to conceal your most sensitive parts with. You feel the cool air hit your vulva, and the wetness of your arousal trickle down your thighs. You didn't dare to move as Rick looked at all of you, frozen as you were afraid of what he might do next, frozen in the most vulgar position--  the curve of your ass, the arch in your back-- it was utterly shameless. 

"Shit," Rick curses under his breath. He could only find one word that he could describe you, and even that didn't seem to justify what he saw. You were breathtaking-- literally, as he felt his breath be kicked from his lungs as he saw all of you.

"Look at you," Rick coos as he swipes his middle finger along your slit, passing by your clit that had you jumping from the sudden sharp pleasure. You couldn't see it from the way you buried your eyes in your arms, but he brought his finger to his lip, sampling you. "What a sloppy cunt. I barely touch you and this is how you respond?" He mocks, squeezing the softness of your thighs and earning a whimper in response.

"No--" 

You're cut off by a high-pitched squeal that shatters past your lips. You felt a sudden wet prod at your cunt as well as the scratchy feeling of Rick's beard tickling the back of your thighs. 

You nearly sobbed. His flattened tongue languidly dragged from your clit, all the way to your hole where he dipped the tip of his tongue inside you, slurping and massaging your walls. A deep, almost animalistic groan vibrated against you as Rick tasted you. 

You dug your face into your arms as you cried out again. Your legs shook, your walls desperately clenching around Rick's tongue. Your head fogged with pleasure as you felt a coil of pleasure begin to spin inside your stomach. The way his long fingers pulled your sensitive flesh apart, his tongue breaching your walls, his groans that made you feel weak in the legs. It was overwhelming. 

He propped your hips higher, nearly lifting your knees off of the couch as he brought his lips down to suction your clit. He let one hand reach over to grab at your hair once more, tugging your head back and away from your arms roughly.

"Don't hide your voice," He says lowly against your cunt, the scratch of his beard adding more ripples of pleasure as he moved his jaw to speak.

It felt so good and you lost any thought of trying to retaliate, eager for more of his wet tongue and soft lips wringing pleasure from your needy cunt. So you obeyed him, and once he let go of your hair, you stayed put in the position he left you in. Once he delved back into your pussy, you couldn't control your moans any longer, deliriously chanting praises and choking out his name, no longer hidden by the couch. 

"No"  You scream. "-- Rick!"

You didn't even know what you were saying anymore, your brain losing the ability to form coherent words. It was too much. The coil quickly began to tighten inside you the more his sharp nose nudged against your sensitive clit. The way he would move from sucking your clit with his plush lips to greedily licking inside, creating loud obscene noises from your pussy. Humiliation washed over you once again from the vulgarness of your body, responding so desperately and greeting his mouth so welcomingly. 

You then feel a long finger sink inside you, gently rubbing in a 'come hither' motion against your plush walls and pressing into that sensitive spot inside you. Your body leaps forward, almost like trying to escape the intense pleasure, but Rick quickly catches you, pulling your body back into him. 

"You ain't running, girl." Rick teases against your folds, the vibration of each syllable sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. He laps at your soaked cunt until you're trembling, your walls pulsating in tell-tale signs of your approaching orgasm. 

"Rick, Please, Rick,"  You sobbed loudly, your hand reaching behind you to grip his hair, desperate for something to hold onto. He ignores your pleas and continues to finger you, pulling drawn-out cries of pleasure from your mouth. It isn't until he feels the rapid pulses of your walls, indicating your near-release, that he pulls away entirely. He then flips you around, placing a leg on either side of your hips to trap you beneath him.

You cry as your orgasm is denied, and when you see the smug face above you-- looking irritatingly handsome, you scowl. 

You place your hands on his chest, nudging him weakly away from you. Even after you pleaded for more of him--after he brought you to near brink of ecstasy, you were pushing him away stubbornly. So desperate to keep the remainder of your dignity. Your face was scrunched in faux anger, the telltale signs of tears at your lashes. You were panting hard and your legs had pressed themselves together in an attempt to alleviate some of the ache inside you. Even your fingers were digging into his shirt as if telling him not to go.

He doesn't budge at your feeble attempt to push him away. He has his face above yours, looking down at you with a tinge of pride in his cold eyes. His hands caress your sides lightly, a sinister smirk appearing once he sees the way you squirm away from the ticklish sensation.

"Asshole.." You whisper, but your eyes betray you once you look down wontedly at his crotch, looking at the visible bulge. 

"Pretty girl," He reflects smoothly, shutting you up with a surprisingly gentle kiss on the lips.

You feel your face flush with heat when he kisses you, the words he spoke to you ringing in your mind, immediately erasing any lingering anger toward him. 

Pretty girl.

You moan as you feel your body melt into his touch. You make fists in his shirt, now pulling him closer rather than pushing him away. His beard scratches against your chin, his hand slithering behind your head and holding you in place as he forces his tongue inside you. You feel overwhelmed with how passionately he kisses you, smothered by his masculine scent that had your brain hardwired into thinking of him each time you smelt anything that even resembled it. His hips were heavy on your own, his body trapping you. His unoccupied hand was rubbing up and down your waist, loving the way he felt the curvaceous dip each time he passed your midsection. 

You don't know how long the kiss went on, only breaking apart to breathe for a split second before being attacked again by Rick's lips and tongue. You felt as if he was injecting some kind of poison into your system with every swirl and caress of his tongue, clouding your brain with pleasure and erasing every thought aside from him. 

Eventually, Rick pulls away with heavy pants, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. You noticed the faint blush on his cheeks and the plumpness of his lips now swollen and red from the kiss. His eyes hardened with lust.

He then straightens himself, sitting upward on his knees as he inches his body up yours until his hips are level with your chest. You watch as he undoes his belt with a snap above you, leaving it still hooked through his jeans as he then undoes his pant zipper, fishing his cock out from his briefs.

You're already licking your lips, eyes strained forward as you admire the long length so close to your face. 

He was slowly stroking himself, paying close attention to the tip as he pulled back his foreskin to reveal the sheen of precum atop it. He was girthy more than he was long which had you imagining how amazingly he would stretch your walls to accommodate for his size. His tip looked flushed and desperate, eager for any kind of stimulation. Your eyes left his cock reluctantly and looked at the man above you, and you couldn't help but admire how pretty he looked, his brows scrunched in pleasure and his bottom lip captured between his teeth. The sight alone had your core throbbing. 

Gently, he guided your head toward him, canting his hips forward. The wet tip grazed the corner of your mouth, and you stuck out your tongue just enough to lick away the dribble of precum from the head.

"You wanna suck it?" He hums, his hand leaving his cock and rubbing a thumb across your lips. His actions seemed gentler, his expression softening as his eyes dart over the planes of your face, admiring every freckle and beauty mark on you. His other hand was scratching at your scalp, pushing the hair away from your face. 

You don't answer which earns a light scoff from the man, but you don't miss the almost invisible tilt of the corner of his lip, then as if you had switched the channels on a radio, his gentleness was gone. He breaches your lips forcefully with the head of his cock which forces you to open your mouth to fit his girth comfortably on your tongue. You gag at the intrusion but quickly adapt to the heavy weight on your tongue. Now with the view of his face staring down at you so intensely, it had you shifting restlessly beneath him, unable to escape his predacious eyes no matter what you did.

He didn't give you much time to process the length and girth of his cock inside your mouth, and he begins to shallowly thrust, barely grazing your uvula. His jaw drops into an 'o' shape as he finds purchase in your hair, forcing you still in front of him and using your mouth for his pleasure. He watches sadistically as you struggle, your one eye closed as you do your best to massage your tongue alongside his thrusts.

"Just like that," Rick coos, bringing his hips closer to your face, forcing you to accept more of his length. 

You try your best to accept him all at the angle you are in, proudly taking nearly all of his length, his balls resting at your chin, but you gag when he starts sliding down your throat, which has the man above you moan and tilt his head back. Your body squirms and tears begin to fog your vision, your breaths becoming limited. Rick stalls for a moment, running his fingers across your jawline adoringly and watching as you squirm pathetically beneath him with his cock slid down your throat. Then, he removes himself, his cock bouncing after being released from your mouth. He watches as you desperately gasp for air, nearly choking on your own spit. But you surprise him when you dive forward again and take him between your lips after you regain oxygen.

"Greedy girl," Rick scoffs, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. He allows you to suck him at your own pace now, satisfied with the way you flick your tongue beneath his foreskin and the way you purse your lips around his tip. 

You moan at the praise he gives you as you rub the tip of his cock along the velvety walls of your cheeks, creating a vulgar bulge from the outside. 

Spurred on by the open-mouthed moan he releases at the sight of you, you run your hands under his shirt, loosened from his pants being undone. You half expected to have him scoff at you and tear your hands away, but he doesn't. He simply looks down at you, inspecting your every move. You feel the hardness of his abdomen flex in response to your touch, and his breaths become louder-- almost sighs. You trail your hands up and rest them on his chest, admiring the way his chest heaves with each breath. You notice the content hum drawl out from his throat from your touch. 

"So good for me, so obedient." He praises, but that patronizing tone that you expected to hear from him wasn't there. Instead, you're surprised to feel warm with pleasure at his words, the sudden urge to please him more tugging at your brain. 

You suction your lips tighter, bringing a hand to the untouched length of his cock and you match it to the speed of your mouth. You keep a hand on his body, trailing up his shoulders and admiring the strength he held there too. As you felt along his body you noticed raised lesions indicating the scars hidden behind his clothes, and you vaguely imagined the people he killed in order to stamp those reminders onto his flesh.

The thought alone had you moaning around his cock. The deadliest man you've ever met was above you, watching your every move like a hawk even as pleasure contorts his features and soft moans escape his parted lips. The proof of his murders was plain as day on his body-- in his eyes and in his walk, and yet somehow you feel the urge to submit to him entirely and let him do anything he pleases with you.

The remainder of the fight in your body begins to leave and you feel yourself submit to the man before you as the fact that he could literally do anything he wanted to you settles into your brain. Rick watches as your eyes become glassy and your moans more frequent around his cock. You lose any smart responses to irritate the man, finally succumbing to your fate and allowing the pleasure of the man who is fucking your mouth finally win. You bob your head faster, working your tongue to touch everywhere you could reach.

"Thaaaats it," Rick says, watching as you slowly melt into submission. Your mouth loosened and allowed more of his cock to penetrate your mouth. He indulges in a few more deep thrusts into your throat, making you gag and choke until he pulls out and rubs his soaked cock on your cheek, enjoying the fucked out expression on your face. He watches as you nuzzle his cock with your face, pressing dainty kisses along the shaft paired with a shy smile.

Now that was a sight he never thought he would see. 

You felt the solid weight of his cock on your face, shiny with your spit as he slowly canted his hips to drag it on your cheek. You could smell the musky scent of his manhood which had you nearly reeling, your patience was wearing thin and the thing you wanted most was for him to be inside you, pounding you to ecstasy while murmuring dirty words into your ear, making you feel helpless in the best way possible. 

"Please," You moan, the desperation in your voice so prominent. You were reaching behind your back, finally losing the last bit of clothing and revealing your breasts from their confinements. 

Rick shamelessly looks at your chest, running his hands over your ribcage and gently grazing the underside of your tits. You felt his cock twitch against you and you lean down to take him between your lips once more, massaging your tongue beneath his foreskin and humming at the taste of him.

Suddenly, he slides down your body, his cock leaving your lips with a 'pop'. His hands return to your legs, his head dipping down to leave scratchy kisses between your thighs. 

"Sit up," He commands suddenly. You obey him albeit being a bit confused. He pulls you close to his body, practically shoving your head into his chest as his hands grab at your ass, lifting you up with incredible strength. You release a surprised squeak that has him snort.

"M'not fuckin you on the couch," He explains as he places a kiss on the junction of your neck and shoulder. The small act of affection was enough for you to melt into his embrace, and so you hook your chin over his shoulder, placing a few kisses of your own on his neck. 

He then lifts himself off the couch by his knee, your body tightly secured in his arms. You feel much too aware of the man's hands on the back of your thighs, and the concern that you may be too heavy crosses your mind, but the thought is quickly wiped away when Rick begins walking down the hall to his bedroom, acting as if you didn't have your legs wrapped around your torso-- or your bare pussy rubbing against his clothes and your naked breasts pressed against his hard chest. 

He basically throws you once he enters his bedroom, a devious smile quipped on his face. He's on top of you before you have a chance to comprehend what has happened, his lips smashing hard in place of yours and your thighs forcefully spread apart so his narrow hips could slot between them. Once the man is back on top of you, you pull at his collar blindly, your separate hand already making progress at shoving down his pants. He takes your hint and leans back onto his haunches, grabbing his shirt from the bottom and sliding it over his head, tossing it away. He then leans back down to smother kisses along your neck.

"Pants too," You demand, regretting your words the moment they came out of your mouth.

"You think you get a say in this?" He says, incredulous. His hand crawls up to your neck, covering your jugular entirely with the span of his palm. He applies steady pressure to your throat as he levels his face with yours, glaring down at you with a sneer at his lips. 

He doesn't give you the chance to apologize, squeezing your throat until you choke when you open your mouth. You feel the intruding prod of his cock at your entrance, making you writhe under him. When he sees the way your eyes widen and tears hug your lashes, he eases his hold, letting you catch your breath.

You break down, your patience wearing thin. All you wanted was for the man to just fuck you. 

"M'sorry, please-- Just-- you can do anything to me!" You cry out in frustration, rambling without thought. "I don't know, just-- Pl-Please, -- I need it, Rick--I need you so bad," You sob, the frustration building up until its limit was breached. Your tears now fall down your cheeks, your hands tightly gripped around his wrist to keep his hand from moving away from your throat. It felt like an anchor, a daunting, warm anchor pressing you into the bed. You choke on your sobs as you shift your hips down, trying to get his cock to penetrate you. You were disoriented and frustrated but more than that, you were so fucking needy for the man to just take you and slam his cock inside you, making you scream and cry and beg. You didn't care. You just needed him. 

Rick pauses. The way your eyes reddened from your tears-- making the color of your irises become highlighted and sparkly. It had him writhing. Your pretty voice cracked with sobs, chanting his name over and over as if you knew no other names but his. Your nails clawed down his back, trying to push him impossibly closer to you, and your legs were locked around his hips to make sure he couldn't escape. 

"Shhhh," He utters, placing a hand on the side of your face which you instantly accept, turning your head to kiss and lick at his palm like a touch-starved dog. You shot a hand to grip his wrist, keeping the hand at your head still as you brought a finger into your mouth, licking and sucking it as if it was his cock. 

"I didn't mean to," You beg around his fingers. "M'sorry," You say again but this time with a sniffle. Rick smiles-- the first genuine smile you'd seen today. It was warm and thoughtful, enhancing the handsome crowfeet around his eyes. You had stopped sucking his fingers just to admire it as you felt a fuzzy sensation rise to your chest, alongside the deep ache of your throbbing core.

"It's okay, pretty girl," Rick says, leaning down to kiss your cheeks. He notices the way your body reacted to the name he had given you, the moan that vibrated around his fingers, and the flutter of your lashes gazing up at him. You were looking at him so devotedly, your eyes filled to the brim with trust and affection, and most of all, lust. He knew that when you said he could do anything to you, you truly meant it. 

He teasingly rubs his cock up and down your slit, grazing your clit as he drenches himself with your wetness. He reaches down to kiss you, catching your glossy lips in a gentle rhythm, unlike the rough and passionate ones from before. He feels warmth ooze into his brain as if you had him under a spell, melting away any remaining thoughts or worries and forcing all of you to cloud his conscience. 

Then gently, he breaches your hole, his attention fixed on the way your jaw drops. 

He could feel the way your soft walls fluttered around his cock, adjusting to his girth. Your face had scrunched up in discomfort, but you were distracted when he placed a soft kiss on your brow, his gaze fond.

"So good for me," Rick says, licking at your earlobe and sinking his cock further into you and sighing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his balls against your ass. "Look at you, taking me so well. Does it hurt?"  

You shake your head, cupping his face in your hands. You were suddenly hyper-aware of his handsome features. The speckling of black and grey littered across his beard and hair, reminding you that he was much older than you were. How cute the curls on his forehead grazed his furrowed brows, a droplet of sweat running down right beside it. Those ever-so-intimidating eyes were staring at you with such affection that it was overwhelming, almost making you forget the fact that this was meant to be some kind of punishment. But the way he held you so possessively almost had you thinking that there was more than just lust between the two of you.

Rick raises his brow, giving you a teasing look as you forget to answer his question. "Not gonna use your words?" He says without venom in his voice, tightening his grip around your neck as a reminder of what he is capable of doing to you. 

He breaks you away from your deep thoughts, and you don't think before speaking, your eyes still trained on the attractive man before you,

"You're so handsome," You say, holding his cheeks firmly as you lean in to kiss him. 

Rick raises his brows, flushing at your words as he returns your kiss. He wasn't expecting such a cute response from you, but at least this time you answered him, albeit it not remotely relating to the question he asked. Still, he couldn't deny the race of his heart as you kissed him with your hands cupped around his cheeks, his cock buried deep inside your pulsating walls, and the word 'handsome' ringing in his head. He felt like a schoolboy all over again. 

He smiled in the kiss. Maybe you'll never learn to answer his questions properly. 

"Need you," You moan after breaking the kiss, your lips grazing his. "Need you so bad,"

"Oh, you'll get it, sweet girl. Don't have'ta worry." Rick teases as he licks your ear. He wanted to push you to your very limits, make your voice raw with pleads. He couldn't deny that he wasn't being mean to you, torturing the sweet teary-eyed girl beneath him-- but he loved it. He loved watching you become glassy-eyed with want, and your insults turning to pleads. It was the best feeling ever, to turn you into a babbling mess of moans and cries. 

He pulls out, rubbing his cock onto your clit, slapping it lewdly, watching as you arch your back and drape a forearm over your eyes. 

"C'mon!" You sob, "Please just fuck me, Rick! I can't-- I can't take anymore. I've been good!" You slap at his chest angrily, trying to stifle your cries of frustration and hide the fact that you were crying. You weren't looking at him, too embarrassed of yourself.

Rick finally relents and shoves his cock in one go inside you. He peels away your arm to see that face he longed for.

Your mouth falls as he thrusts into you quickly, your hands flying to the pair that are locked on your throat, and your tears finally spill like a waterfall. 

Rick's heart nearly leaps from his chest. Your eyes are half closed, your lashes dripping with the residue of your tears, and your eyes are shot red. When he squeezes your throat tighter, strangled cries croak out and your nails drag at his skin, leaving a beautiful sting in their wake. He's thrusting remorsefully, sending your body bouncing back and forth with every pound to your soaked pussy, your tits recoiling up and down in a memorizing tempo. 

Each time he slams his cock inside you, another pair of tears trickle down your beautiful rosy cheeks and into your open mouth. He can't help but kiss you, tasting your tears and swallowing your cries. 

"This what'ya want? To be fucked like a whore?" He asks, his lips lingering atop yours as he speaks over the loud slapping of skin to skin.

"No-" You manage to spit out over his tight hold on your throat.

"Then what's this? Your walls are eating me up so well, you lyin' to me, girl?"

He sends you reeling forward with a slap to the pussy. Reflexively, you push a hand against his chest to try and slow him down, but he doesn't budge, rather, he pushes more weight atop of you, crushing you with his naked body. You sob, shaking your head. 

"You've got such pretty cries," He coos and finally lets free of your neck, allowing you the freedom of deep breaths. You're lightheaded when he releases you, unable to even process his words. "Your cries are just for me, hm?" 

"Only you--" You say before getting cut off by a moan once Rick's fingers find your clit. You dizzily wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly to your chest as pleasure numbs your brain. "Just you, it's always been just you," You confess deliriously. 

Rick hums, satisfied with your answer. He feels his orgasm approaching rapidly, so he begins to rub tight circles on your clit which has you responding by clenching tightly onto his cock. His moans grow louder, more like the grunts of a wild animal and it has you spiraling toward your release.

"That's right. You're mine." He says, then buries his face between your tits.

You hug his head, burying your nose into his curls, breathing him in as you feel the cord inside you become pulled taught. Your hands find his neck and shoulders, enjoying the way his muscles ripple with every thrust. Once again, you're reminded of how powerful this man really is, and it has you tumbling over the edge. 

"Yes, Yes! Rick--" You babble, arching your back as you feel the waves of pleasure swamp your body. Your pussy clenches like a vice, feeling every vein and ridge of Rick's cock pummeling inside you, and like a string that's been cut, your orgasm washes over you. 

Your cries go silent as ecstasy clouds your mind, blossoming heat tingling in your navel and rising to your mind. Rick fucks you through your orgasm, purposely holding off his own to watch the way your eyes roll back to your head and your trembling body tenses. It isn't until you cry from overstimulation and the trembles in your body turn to full-body shudders, that he pulls out, bringing his cock to your breasts and jerking himself until he comes with a loud moan, painting your chest with milky white stripes. You watch lazily as you feel the never-ending warm spurts of come drench your tits, memorized by the expression Rick makes. His mouth is agape, his abdomen flexing with each wave of pleasure, and his moans become strained as he works himself to the end of his orgasm.

It was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.

After his balls are emptied, he collapses beside you, pulling you in tight against his body, undeterred by the mess he made on your chest. He peppers kisses along your jaw and shoulders,

"You did so well, pretty girl," He says as he caresses your leg-- over the bruise you had obtained. His palm smooths over it, almost as if quietly apologizing for earlier. He then kisses away the tears littered across your cheeks, uttering more praises with every peck. 

You're still regaining your breath and your cunt pulsates from the aftermath of your orgasm, but you feel a sweet fuzzy feeling envelop your chest, and you turn your head to meet Rick's lips, melting into his embrace and the warmth of his kiss. The two of you stay like that for several moments, simply panting and kissing each other in each other's embrace. 

"Was I too rough?" Rick says momentarily, glancing at the red, irritated marks left by his hands. He suddenly looks concerned, planting small kisses across your jugular. 

"No," You say with a small smirk. Only now had you properly replied to a question of his. He notices your smirk and can't help but smile himself, pushing your face back into his chest as he scoffs. Again, some time passes, and Rick speaks up again, only this time, hesitantly.

"I'd like it if this wasn't just a fling," He says, searching your eyes for any flicker of rejection. "I really do like you, even if you are a pain in my ass." He adds with a hint of a smile. 

You roll your eyes in faux irritation. 

"I've been yours since the beginning," You say cupping his cheeks and placing a featherlight kiss on his brow. Rick looks at you with sparkling eyes, the biggest smile you've ever seen him wear is plastered on his face. He holds you tight against him by your waist, taking your lips roughly in a passionate kiss. 

"That's what I like to hear." He says, hugging you into his warm chest. 

A/N: Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

[endlessdreamworld]

A Snezhnayan Homecoming

Childe X F!Reader

cw: not sfw, cunnilingus, edging, sexual frustration, frustration of a general nature

“I want to make you family.” You could still hear the whispers of his sweet proposal in your dreams, since it’s one of the last few good memories you still remember vividly enough to cling to. The joy you once shared has long since trickled through your exhausted and cold fingers. How were you supposed to know that becoming family meant you would be shipped off to Snezhnaya? Tartaglia, or rather Ajax as you call him now, asked you to let him introduce you to all of his relatives. You are, after all, his soon to be bride, and it was only appropriate for you to meet everyone.

You sigh and stare out the window. The family home was indeed everything he said it was and nothing less. Teucer was so excited to show you his Mr. Cyclops collection and calling you ‘Big Sister’ as he pulled you around by your hand. His mother went out of her way to learn as much about you as you would let her so you would feel right at home. In exchange, she taught you some traditional Snezhnayan dishes to bond over. The building itself was a lavish, well built mansion, and kept everyone warm even during the coldest, angriest winters no matter how ferociously they raged. It was also large enough where everyone had their own space. Even if they no longer lived there, this was the home they could always come back to. You never wanted for anything, or at least nothing material – a perk of being engaged to someone who was richer than God. But the one thing you wanted more than anything, your future husband, was nowhere to be found. 

When you were together in Liyue, you noticed how much time he spends writing letters back home. Back then you thought it was sweet and admirable. Now? It’s the only thing keeping you sane, since you’re the one waiting for them. You think about rereading some of your prior letters, but you settle on staring out the window like the heartbroken maiden that you are. He said he’d be back soon, and he doesn’t lie about that sort of thing. Frustrated, you pick up one of the pillows on your to-be-marital bed and throw it down onto the mattress just to blow off steam.

You hated him. You stared down at the pillow and couldn’t help but imagine him laying in your bed, sprawled out with a cocky little smirk on his dumb face. His stupid little lips mouthing ‘Good job’ to praise you for managing to throw him onto the bed. You punch your pillow in frustration, picturing his face. You hated that you know he would probably like it. You hated him. Of course you loved him too. But right now? You hated that you loved him. Finally, when your ire has died down, you give the pillow a kiss. Maybe it was a little embarrassing, but it wasn’t fair that he left you here. Everyone is truly wonderful to you just like Ajax said they would be, but you missed him so much your bones burned under your skin. Frustrated and unfulfilled, you fell asleep.

You wake up in the middle of the night in desperate need for a glass of water. When you go to sit up you notice it’s a bit more difficult than you were expecting. Something heavy feels like it’s weighing down. Soft almost imperceivable laughter lingered in the air. You grope around in the dark and feel an unmistakable swath of hair, and yank on it. “Ow!” That oh so familiar voice protested playfully. “I missed you too…” As much as you wanted to be happy, it was difficult. Why didn’t he wake you up? Doesn’t he have any idea how much you’ve missed him? You reached around onto your nightstand to grab the cup of water you have to spare you the midnight walk to the kitchen, and dumped it on him.

“What’s wrong with you?! Why didn’t you wake me up?” You whisper angrily. Everyone was asleep, and the last thing you wanted to do was wake everyone up. Your distress, however, was palpable even though your words could never measure up to how you were feeling inside. Light airy laughter quickly faded away into a concerned silence and it was suffocating. “It’s like you don’t even miss me!” You feel like you’re about to cry. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” The battle with your tears is quickly turning into a losing one.

“Well, I had a very good reason,” Ajax soothed you. He threw his arm over your shoulder to pull you close once more – although the situation was a little bit awkward since you soaked him, the covers, as well as the mattress. “It’s because I like watching you sleep.”

“That’s not a good reason,”You groan into his shoulder. “You’re the worst.” “I’m a real bad guy, huh?” his hands play with your hair. “I worry about things like that when I’m off in Liyue. Whether you’re sleeping enough, whether you’re healthy.” “Yeah but you’re never here, so even a few more minutes would be a difference for me that you can’t even begin to imagine. I wish you missed me even a quarter as much as I mis–” He cut you off with a kiss so ravenous it made your lips sting.

He didn’t pull away, and just regarded your form with open eyes – something he did when he was looking for answers to give you.

Ajax eventually pulled enough to touch foreheads with you. “I miss you so much, you can’t even begin to imagine. But I guess I was a little greedy tonight. Moments where I can see you sleeping peacefully? It’s paradise – truly my greatest joy, and it’s something I can never ever get enough of.” He strokes your cheek, hoping it’ll ease your pain at least a little bit. “But it seems like I failed you as your soon-to-be-husband, and we can’t have that now, can we?”

Ajax suddenly rolled you onto your back, and regarded you from above. “What kind of man would I be if I let you believe I didn’t miss you every single second of every day?” He kissed you once more, but much more briefly this time. His gaze swept over you in a way that felt nothing short of utterly dangerous. “So, I guess I’ll just have to do a very good job reminding you just how much I miss you. First, we need to get rid of this.” His arm snaked under your nightgown, and swiftly pulled it over your head and off of you. “Don’t you want to be close to me?” 

Ajax crushed your lips with his own once more, starving for you. His eyes remained open the whole time, darting around parts of you. You realized you would rather shut your eyes right now. It’s obvious he’s figuring out exactly how to remind you, and you didn’t want to know what he had in mind. “Feeling shy now all of a sudden?” He whispered into your ear and dragged your hair upwards to get access to your shoulders. His fingers traced along your collarbone. Ajax took a hold of one of your hands, and placed the palm of it on his cheek. He took a hold of the other one and kissed your fingers and wrist. Tonight was a rare clear night in Snezhnaya. The stars were bright and the moon was unobscured by the usual clouds seen in Snezhnaya giving you a clear picture of exactly how he was looking at you with your hands holding his face like a living frame. It was a sight that you couldn’t tell if you’d rather run away or get eaten, but it was certainly one you would never forget.

But the choice was stolen from you the moment Ajax sucked on the soft skin at the base of your neck, making a wet squelching noise as he did. Your senses were quickly becoming overwhelmed on all fronts. Now that you were liberated from the burden of your nightgown, you were entirely naked. He trailed his hand up the side of your torso. It made you shiver so much, you threw your arms around his shoulders just to ease you through the sensation. Ajax chuckled, and you could feel the air tickle your eyelashes. “Here I thought you were going to put up more of a fight…” He brushed the back of his fingers over your quickly hardening nipples. “But I like this face you make so much that I can’t feel disappointed.” He bit down onto your ear, and began circling the tip of your nipple with his index finger.

“And the noises you make,” he inhales sharply and his whole body shivered, “drive me crazy.” Something he’s said so many times, but you’ve never believed it more than today. “As much as I want to make you sing, it wouldn’t be good to wake everyone up. So, try your best to be good.” Your nerves were fried. Your hair was standing on end. You wanted to run. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but most importantly, you definitely felt like you were sorely missed. Ajax slid down the bed without removing his hand which diligently worked towards giving you an unforgettable night. He pushed one of your thighs off to the side so he could get a good look at you. Your weeping cunt was a welcome sight – one he couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction at. He looked up at you and gave you the usual smirk that made you miss him so much you wanted to rip your hair out some days and it was like your heart did a backflip. Your respite was only temporary. He swiftly licked his index and middle finger and dove into you. His thumb rubbed steady circles on your clit, and you had to cover your mouth to stifle your erupting moans. It’s a dance you’ve performed so many times, but one you would never ever tire of. 

You clasp your hands over your mouth, as he stroked you with focus and purpose. He kissed your thigh and gently laid his head against it, able to navigate around your shaking hips and undisturbed by your suddenly thrashing limbs. He could feel you were close, he knew you well enough. So, just like that he stopped. Everything stopped, and he looked at you with that cocky grin and you just wanted to punch him. He winked at you as if able to read your mind. “Won’t it be more fun and memorable if I don’t make it easy for you.”

You groaned. “Aww don’t be like that,” he lowered his head between your legs and gave your swollen clit some sorely needed love. You grip at the bed sheets. Anytime he’s got his head between your legs, he’s so excited to ruin you. Your body reacts accordingly, and your back arches as if by instinct.

“I’ve missed you so much,” you whisper. Ajax grabs a hold of your thighs and pulls you a bit closer. He angles your hips upwards, to make it much harder for you to get away.

His mouth drops to you once more, and you grip onto the sheets – the covers – anything. You needed him so much, so fucking much and he’s here – he’s finally here. Your toes curl, and – he stops. Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he? You swipe at him. “Oooh kitten’s got claws,” he teased. 

“Just say you hate me and get it over with,” you whine.

“That’s not it at all.” He smirked down at you, enjoying your frustrated red face. “You want to cum? Not until I say you’re ready.” He said, and slid his fingers inside of you once more. It didn’t take long to get you teetering on the edge, and you had forgotten yourself for a moment. “Shhh, be good.” He placed his index finger against your lips to encourage you. You kissed it happily.

“I’m close, so close so so –” You felt like you were going crazy.

“I don’t think you’re ready yet,” he reminds you. You whine in exasperation. “You’re almost ready, so how about a countdown?” You don’t really have a choice.

Ajax picks up the pace, but not before laying his head against your thigh once more. “ten, nine, eight,” you cover your mouth and shut your eyes. “seven, six, five,” His rhythm is steady and his touch is focused. It feels so good to have him inside of you like this again. You wonder if it feels like home for him too. “four, three, two,” he laughs. “two, two, twoo.” You feel like you’re going to lose your mind. “Twooo… and one.” 

Your vision goes white, you can’t breathe, and pure ecstasy washes through every inch of every vein and every artery, leaving nothing untouched. 

After what felt like an eternity, your mind clears up and you notice Ajax’s fingers were placed over your mouth with a surprised look on his face. You give his fingers a swift kiss. “I uh – was I being too loud?”

“We’re lucky I’ve got such incredible reflexes or you would have woken up every single person in the house.”

You continued to kiss his fingers. “Thank you.”

“It’s so good to be back, you know?” He pushed you down onto the bed once more. “I’ve missed you so much.” He gripped his cock in one hand and spread you open once more. You weren’t sure you were ready to go again, but what you were sure of is that you didn’t really have a choice. Ajax thrusted into you from tip all of the base in a single thrust. You covered your mouth, but you quickly readjusted because you had to hold onto him with the way he was fucking you. Your ecstatic moans were leaking through. “Shhhh,” he quieted you but not before fucking you even harder. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Ajax covered your mouth with one hand, and brushed aside your hair with the other. He laid tender kisses along every inch of you while he fucked you into the mattress. “So g– hnnn ghh. So good. I missed you so much,” you muttered into his fingers.

At the breakfast table the following morning. “Ajax is your bride-to-be joining us for breakfast today?”

He smiled and covered his face with the back of his hand, sheepishly. “I got back pretty late and we were up all night talking, so she’s sleeping in. I’ll bring her something later though.”

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Shit at Feelings iv

Bodhi Durran x fem!reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 6k 🫢

Warnings: swearing (ofc), drinking, angstttt, y/n lore, lmk if I missed anything, not proofread at the end lmaooo

A/n: the long awaited part 4!! Hope y’all aren’t disappointed, trying not to think so hardly on this part bc I scrapped and rewrote this so many times 😅

You're unsure of when it started during the night, but as you sat at the booth with Violet, Rihannon, and Nadine; something stirred in your chest. You desperately tried to look interested in the conversation, trying to meet the eyes of Rihannon trying to focus on the way she animatedly told a story. Laugh when the women poked fun at Violet for something cheeky she’d bring up. Adding input to Nadine’s questions despite having to ask her to repeat herself without having your eyes dragging themselves to look at the other side of the bar.

Who was she?

She wore a dressed down pale blue healer uniform, her skin flawless free of relics and tattoos, glossy perfect red hair that cascaded down her back in waves. She radiated bubbliness from what you observed as she laughed at whatever Bodhi said or did a little dance when her friend sunk a billiard into a pocket. She always seemed to go right back to chatting with him. You couldn’t bear watching her cling to him, but you couldn’t drag your eyes away.

You were well aware you had no right to be sitting there, stomach churning with a bitterness of cold ire…but here you were doing just that.

Rihannon clicked her teeth, making you snap your attention back to the group. You didn’t even try to offer a coy look—this was the second time one of them caught you. You had tried the last two hours to hide your irritation, but it just kept beckoning to the surface. Slowly ticking away within you as if you were going to burst at the seams.

“Okay, what is going on between you two?” She laid her palms flat on the table.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You took a sip of your drink, acting as nonchalant as you could.

She gave you an incredulous look. “The fact you shied away from him all first year, then the first night of break whatever that was.” She waved her hand. “The other day during breakfast, when Dain came to grab him for the leadership meeting, and it was clear as day he was practically undressing you with his eyes when we first arrived.” she rattled off.

“It’s like I’m watching a romance novel unfold in real time.” Nadine said dramatically, a hand moving to her forehead feigning fainting.

You cringed, “it’s-it’s definitely not like that.”

“Not like what?” Quinn interrupted walking up to your own group. Bodhi and Imogen still had been at the table.

The mystery girl touching his built bicep. He had discarded his jacket an hour ago, his rebellion mark on display underneath his tight short sleeve t-shirt. “Ohhh,” she followed your gaze to Bodhi. “Immy told me all about this.” She said in delight to your dismay, taking a seat next to Nadine.

You brought your attention over to the curly haired blond girl. “Does everyone know about this ‘something’ except the two people this ‘something’ is about?” You snapped.

Everyone seemed to have an exciting interest in the nonexistent relationship between you and your childhood best friend.

Quinn merely raised her hands defensively, Rihannon and Nadine awkwardly sipping their drinks looking at the table interested in the wood grain.

“We’re all in the same wing, same section, Y/n it’s hard to ignore the hot and cold between the two of you.” Violet had a softened look in her eyes, being the most sympathetic toward you.

You flushed realizing your outburst, not meaning to aim it at your new found friends. The gnawing bitter feeling was just eating at you, and you couldn’t stop it from being all consuming.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, a scowl on your lips, staring into the clear fizzy liquid in your glass. Despite the tension you created, you looked at the bubbly girl across from you. “Quinn, who is that girl?”

She had a hesitant look on her face, her brown eyes swirled with trepidation. “Ariante, a third year healer.” She offered a short response, seeming to know more than she let on.

You only nodded, turning back to the other side of the bar watching the billiards tables. Ariante, the beautiful young woman, was lining up to shoot the shot, and shot Bodhi a wink before shooting. A small snarl left your lip unknowingly at the sight, leaving all the group to cast worried glances your way.

You grimaced at your behavior, not entirely sure why you had visibly been so riled up at the sight. “I’m gonna get some water.” You stood up, and left the group without another word.

Ariante skimmed her dainty plain manicured hands over Bodhi’s biceps as she giggled over something he told the group he played with. Usually her advances didn’t bother him, last year he had given in to them as a distraction many times when Y/n avoided him like a disease. Tonight though, his chest hammered in annoyance—maybe not just with her in general, but everything tonight seemed to be so overstimulating.

The loud tavern, how he fought a flinch every time the que would knock against a billiard, the musty smell of alcohol and fried food permeating the space, and how fucking unbearably hot he was.

He knew it had nothing due to the summer weather, that the heat that festered deep within him was caused by something wholly different.

Usually he’d use churam to block Cuir out, but the effects of the few drinks he had made it harder to keep that mental shield up and his dragon’s emotions started to take over. Of course Cuir and Cleasaí chose tonight of all nights to fight.

He had spent a year being accustomed to this, but he worried about you.

You still had been clueless to everything, your dragon stubbornly kept you in the dark, which had frustrated both him and Cuir. You didn’t deserve any of that, and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt he felt when he thought about it. He watched how tense you were at the booth, the girl’s giggling at what seemed like your expense; a scowl on your pretty lips at the interaction.

Another wave of heat filled and irritation rippled through him, and he screwed his eyes shut trying to ground himself. He had ripped his jacket off an hour ago, but to no avail aided any relief to his skin. It seemed it only made the pretty third year healer cling to him more. And the only aid that was brought, was to the disdain that rose with the proximity of her.

“Damn it Henrick!” Quinn stomped her foot frustratedly, making him open his eyes again. “I thought I was playing with an amateur?”

Sawyer had a broad grin as he nabbed the gold coins on the corner of the parallel table across from the one him and Imogen played at. “Beginners luck?” He shrugged casually.

The curly haired blond furrowed her eyebrows at the redhead. “Mhm, sure. Beginner’s luck my ass.”

Imogen cackled at her friend. “You’re the one that suggests putting coins down.”

Quinn mimicked Imogen, before a playful glare settled on her features. “Shove it Cardulo, I’m gonna go wallow in pity now if you need me.” She handed the cue to Sawyer before flouncing off to the rest of the group they came with.

Bodhi’s brown eyes not paying any mind to the feisty third year rider as she joined the booth, he instead had been focused on you again. Watching how your tongue darted in between your soft looking lips licking them, the same scowl still lingering on your face.

He had longed to get a feeling of what your lips felt like since he was barely an adult. Doing anything at this point to have a taste of you, knowing he shouldn’t have felt that way. You had always been just barely out of his reach, but he would have risked anything to have that moment as selfish as it sounded.

You were his best friend.

It was more than the idea of blurring the lines of your friendship that stopped him in the past; you were never meant to be anyone else’s, but who was chosen for you. Your parents had made you a lady of the Aretian aristocracy. The intent to secure a cushy life to make sure you would never have to experience war and hardship like they had—even if it wasn’t a love match. You were forced to take the decision they made for you with poise and grace. Exposed to the corrupt society of the aristocracy that lurked behind the violence since a preteen, never supposed to know war and violence like he had. But by the time the peak of the rebellion happened, and Execution Day arrived—it had been too late for the first hand you had been dealt with. Another decision instead handed to you from a choice that hadn’t been yours to ever make.

It was self indulgent thought, but the moment he knew you safely crossed the parapet—there was a hope that ignited in Bodhi’s chest he hadn’t felt in a long while. Despite the blatant act of avoidance on your part, he quietly watched your every move the first year.

Made sure Imogen spent extra time training with you so you’d be ready for your next challenge, telling her what she needed to critique you on from sparring lessons. Insisting Garrick to convince you to eat more than what you usually did so you could bulk muscle to help ease through the gauntlet. Pleading with Xaden to rearrange squads in the flame section so he could keep a better eye on you. Every action in efforts to aid you from the help of your mutual found family was a coercion from him; so he would know you’d have a shot at surviving this hellscape.

For only a measly chance of you to finally acknowledge him.

It had only been a coincidence (or was it? Cleasaí was known to be petty) you had bonded with Cuir’s other half. The mated dragons hadn’t talked since the end of his first year. The first half of being bonded to the notorious green filled with tumultuous arguments that he didn’t know what started from. They had only been recently mated in the last decade from what Cuir told him.

Bodhi swore he did more supply runs for churam than weapons by the end of the year before they went no contact, and just coexisted in the Vale with one another.

He would have preferred that over feeling the wavering aggression through the bond at this very moment.

“Handsome boy,” Ariante cooed, snapping her fingers to get his attention from across the table. Realizing he had zoned out again staring at you, Ridoc clapped him on the back.

“Yeah handsome boy...” he purred mockingly. Bodhi shrugged his hand off quite hastily. He was not in the mood for the second year’s comedic relief…and the overly inebriated physical touch of the counterpart.

Imogen sensed his discomfort by how tense he had looked, his posture usually more lax, or a boyish grin that had been replaced with a grimace. “Gamlyn, go get us some water.” She barked, face set to a hard grimace.

Ridoc with wide eyes in the fear of the short woman, saluted the group before walking off to the bar.

Bodhi reminded himself to thank her later once he was in a better mood. Instead he twisted his face into something that barely showed interest, not like it mattered, the healer was two shits to the wind at this point. Just caring his eyes were on her. Smiling brightly once he turned back to her, even if it was a stoic look he had on.

“I need you to watch as you lose this round.” She giggled, grabbing the cue from her friend’s hand.

The tawny skinned man watched disinterestedly as she made a show of setting her shot up. She swayed her hips to the table, making sure to press her chest down into the polished wood edges so her low cut tank top showed her cleavage as she lined up her shot. She made eye contact with him, offering a seductive wink, before clumsily shooting and completely missing the pocket. If he wasn’t so aggravated, he could have laughed at the scene.

It was Imogen’s turn now, and he subconsciously let his attention wander back to the booth again, noting you were now absent from the table.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but his heart skipped a beat in panic. He scanned the tavern looking for a glimpse of where you could have gone. He could spot you out of a crowd anywhere—from the way you wore your hair to the way you carried yourself.

His brown eyes searched the makeshift dance floor in between tables, the line for the bathroom, the exits of the tavern. The sense of relief when he finally found you should have eased his heart, instead it pounded louder and louder as his vision tunneled. Bodhi’s stomach churned with a burning green feeling, watching you sit at an empty side of the bar with Ridoc, smiling at him as the pair of you talked.

“So yeah, then Imogen told me to grab some water for them, and now I’m here doing that.” Ridoc rambled on about his night. Unbeknownst to him, you had spent the majority of the night meticulously eyeing the group from the booth. But you nodded along, idling swirling your finger along the lip of your cup, letting his word vomit become a white noise in your brain. “Imogen has a scary way of demanding things.”

A smirk had crept onto your face, replacing the frown you wore. Ridoc was always honest, but it was amusing to hear him drunkenly bare his soul at the bar over the silliest details. It had almost been enough to forget the prying animosity that filled your veins.

“Who are you telling? I have known her my whole life.” You reminded him rather distractedly.

Despite talking to him, your attention was still flicking towards the quieter side of the tavern—still invested in the man you’ve been stubbornly hiding your feelings from poorly and the pretty girl that clung to him. The game of billiards was dying down, only her friend and Imogen still playing one another.

Bodhi sat backwards in a chair off to the side, his chest pressed against the back, arms casually draped across the wooden top rail, and head hung low as he sipped from the bottle of ale he had been nursing. Ariante perched in a chair beside him, leaning over into his ear to talk. Her lips mere centimeters from him had your heart thumping so hard that you could hear it in your ears.

“Yeah, but you’re not like her or them in fact.” He shrugged.

That made you turn back to Ridoc, who didn’t realize you were only half heartedly invested in the conversation. Or if he did, he didn’t make it known.

“Like they’re all scary broody motherfuckers, and you're just you. Intimidating sure, but not all broody and aggressive.”

You let out a dry chuckle, “language please, they are my friends.”

He raised his full hands defensively, ignoring the fact he sloshed water all over him. “Sorry. You know what I mean though.”

You leaned your head to the side, a quizzical expression on your features. “Elaborate Gamlyn.”

You might have been aware of what he meant, just for the sake of your entertainment you didn’t mind hearing the inebriated man’s ramble of what he thought. It was the only thing that was keeping the pent up emotions beneath the surface.

“Well, you’re kind of lady-like?” He tested the word then nodding. “Yeah, lady like. Not that they don’t have manners—they have better manners than me, but you’re like a refined woman.” His eyes got big and arms were flailing as he animatedly spoke, water sloshing on him.

“Would you be surprised if I said I had been a lady?” You interrupted his spiel.

“No shit, like tea and biscuits, go for a promenade around the garden kind of lady?” He slurred in disbelief with an attempt of an accent.

The way he had said it made it hard to stifle your laugh. “Dowry to my name and all.” You mocked using a posh accent as well.

He made a strangled noise, as he puffed his cheeks out to prevent laughing. “Shit that was the worst accent I’ve ever heard.”

You tilted your back, laughing loudly as he snorted, unable to contain himself. “Thanks for your honesty, yours was just as awful.” You tried to compose yourself.

“I’m not the one that comes from the Aretian aristocracy though.” He said through a fit of giggles. You scoffed, shoving him slightly, giggling more when you had to grab his arm to keep him from stumbling over.

Once the laughter died down, Ridoc had started to talk your ear off again, but of course your focus went elsewhere. Your breath caught in your throat, the amusement on your face slipping.

Bodhi was shamelessly staring at you when you looked over this time. His eyes dark, and stone faced watching the side you resided on. He tilted his head back, draining the remainder of his drink. You couldn’t help to watch the expanse of his throat as he drank the rest of his drink, watching how his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he did so.

You gulped quietly, suddenly imagining how it would be to nip at the column of his thick neck. If he would squirm under your touch or make any soft noises if you kissed up his jaw…you were just torturing yourself at this point.

He the. swung his leg over his seat, muttering something to the pretty redhead, not waiting for a response as he made his way towards you.

Shit.

You panicked drifting back to the drunk man in front of you.

“So did you have—like—a betrothed before this?” Ridoc asked, rubbing the back of his neck, still oblivious you hadn’t been listening. “Is that why we’ve never seen you hook up with someone?!” He gasped as if he solved the biggest mystery, connecting non existent dots.

You could throttle him, trying not to watch the towering figure approach you.

“No, no, no!” You covered your face in your hands, cheeks flushing. “It never got that far, well there were a few arrangements that never went through.”

“Damn, your parents were slacking.” He scoffed jokingly.

“Ridoc,” you glared at him. Any amusement or relief from Ridoc now gone, hitting a nerve within you. The thought of your late parents always causing an ache in your chest and a knot in your stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” Bodhi finished for you, coming up right behind him. He jumped, obviously startled by the new presence, and that it was Bodhi nonetheless. But he quickly recovered, turning to the taller man.

“You always jump right in at the most convenient times, handsome boy?” He questioned in a teasing tone. Handsome boy?

Bodhi glowered, stepping closer to your squad mate. “Call me that again—”

“Bo!” A high pitched shrill voice cut him off. It resembled nails on a chalkboard causing you to wince. Ariante appeared from behind Bodhi, a bright bubbly smile as she stumbled around him, grabbing his arm for support. “You didn’t wait for me.” She pouted playfully.

You had to fight the noise of disgust that wanted to escape your lips, but your facial expression gladly showed what you couldn’t verbally. The rational side of you knew you shouldn’t be reacting this way to a girl you’ve never met. You were past the point of rational though.

She then acknowledged you, her eyes a bright teal that sparkled sticking out her manicured hand. “I’m Ariante.”

You subtly glanced at your hands that were unkempt, nails nearly to the nubs with hangnails.

Gods, she really was everything you weren’t even down to the fingers.

You politely stuck your hand out, limply clasping hers. You hoped she wouldn’t feel your calloused fingers or notice how unladylike your hands were compared to hers as you introduced yourself.

“You know Bo?” She mused. Her hold still on him, despite her being perfectly stable. And the way his nickname came out of her mouth, you think you could regurgitate everything you’ve consumed today.

You offered a strained smile. “We grew up together actually.”

“How sweet!” She practically squealed. “I think it’s great how close knit all of you are!”

The tone deaf statement snipped the final straw of your patience and self control. No, you couldn’t let the feelings lay idly underneath any longer.

“I would say we all are,” you nodded. “I guess that’s what happens when all your parents are murdered in front of you.” You said it as if it was the most casual thing to leave your lips. The smile she wore faltered, and you could see Ridoc shove his hands in his pockets, whistling.

“Y/n…” Bodhi warned.

It could be treason speaking so freely of this, you hadn’t cared at the moment.

“What?” You said innocently, brushing off the warning look you know so well. She had started to sputter an apology, but you cut her off. “But how does such a sweet thing like you know Bodhi?” You asked, a smile growing sinisterly.

In your peripheral vision, you see Bodhi’s face pale.

“We’re acquainted.” He quickly answered, getting out of her grip as he reached over and grabbed the water out of Ridoc hands that were nearly empty from him constantly spilling. He gulped the water like a fish needing water, clearly uncomfortable.

“Very acquainted.” She fluttered her lashes towards him, tone suggestive. Brushing off your awkward interaction.

You made a noise of understanding. Everything you thought was confirmed by two words. Your thoughts lingering and spiraling. The idea of Bodhi intertwined with someone else was nauseating…even infuriating. Everything had drowned out by your heartbeat in your ears, Ridocs words were now inaudible, but assuming he was making a joke. Ariante shrilled giggles didn’t even affect you.

Why were you so mad? You had no right, you’ve been so awful to him the last couple of years—there was never a chance for you. Every interaction you two have had was just rekindling your friendship the past week not meaning anything more. Every poke and prod from your group of friends was something they misinterpreted between the two of you. You knew you shouldn’t have thought too hard on their words and jests, but deep down you only felt crushed of the hope there could have been.

Crack. You looked down at your glass that had been in your hand, the glass in between your knuckles nearly crushed.

The group flitted to you and the cup, even some of the surrounding patrons looked towards you warily.

“Are you alright?” Bodhi was the first to speak up.

“Just absolutely peachy.” You murmured, sliding the object towards the other side of the bar.

“Wow, all you riders are so strong.” Ariante laughed nervously. If this could have been any worse, you weren’t sure if you wanted to punch something or cry now.

“Excuse me,” fighting the lump in your throat. Standing up quickly walking towards the nearest exit without a word.

You walked outside, not quite being able to comprehend what just happened in the matter of seconds. Clenching and unclenching your fists, your chest heaving as everything felt as if it was closing in, pacing on the cobblestone outside the tavern. The smell of incoming rain permeating the humid air that blanketed over the quaint town. Usually a smell that eased your mind, was an overbearing semblance to the internal storm inside you.

“Y/n!” Bodhi called out your name, walking out the door you walked out of moments prior. The bass in his voice stoked the fire that formed in the pit of your stomach, ready to burn you from the inside out. Turning on your heel you faced the 6’3 man, brows already furrowed in glaring daggers towards him, chest still heaving erratically unable to control your breaths.

“You need to breathe.” He didn’t let your behavior deter him. His tone smooth and even, several feet away, not meeting your gaze like if he did he would combust into flames from your glare.

You scoffed, “shouldn’t you be inside with Ariante?” Her name dripped off your tongue with venom.

He opened and closed his full lips, setting his hands on his hips; absolutely dumbfounded. “Y/n…” he said through staggered breath. “I came here with you tonight.” He took a few steps towards you cautiously. “I came up to talk to you at the bar, trying to leave her with her friend.” His focus seemed to be on the wall behind you, and not your own eyes as he still walked towards you. “I followed you out here, leaving her in there.” His words slow, as he stepped right in front of you. “Does it look like I give a fuck about her?” He didn’t let you answer.

“Has everything this past year made it look like I give fuck about anyone else, but you?”

Despite the tug in your heart you felt at his words, pulling you out of your blind rage and jealousy for a split second—it was frustrating how he refused to look you in the eyes.

“You were letting her hang all over you tonight, how can I believe that?!” You held your chest with one arm, the other outstretched to the door.

He gave an aggravated shout, lunging and grabbing your arms. You stiffened at his touch, his hands were just as hot as you felt. He seemed to notice as well, flinching at the realization, but his hold stayed secure on you. He leaned down, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.

“If you watched my every move, you would have noticed I wasn’t interested in her. I was only watching you the whole night.” That Gods forsaken deadly calm tone sent a shiver down your spine despite the heat you felt. “Now lift your arms up.” He ordered, the sentence barely above a whisper.

His usual honeyed brown eyes finally locked with yours, dangerously darkened. A silent gasp leaving your mouth agape, unable to pull away from his dark orbs submitting to his quiet demand, your arms rising up slowly.

His rough calloused skin brushing your arms ignited a solely different fire within you as he slid the sweater off your frame. “Fuck, you’re burning up.” He muttered, throwing the sweater on the cobblestone leaving you in the corseted tank top you had on underneath. Lightning flashed in the skyline, thunder following a moment later, and rain started to pour from the clouds moments later. The droplets are warm from the summertime, but still cooler than both your skin, creating a steam that ghosts around the both of you.

“So are you,” you said breathlessly. “Do you have any idea why?” You two were so close your chests brushed together, every time one of you breathed. You anticipated what he would say next, but Bodhi kept quiet, tugging on his lip, seeming to be fighting a battle with himself. He turned away from you, rubbing a hand over his face, looking up at the rain stricken sky.

“You do know don’t you?” You rasped.

“I just want to preface I wanted to tell you—”

‘Don’t. You. Dare. Tawny. One.’ Cleasaí dangerously seethed through your head.

It had been silent on the other side of the bond all night, you tugged the invisible string to her countless times, but no answer. Now she wanted her presence known? Known to someone that couldn’t hear her nonetheless.

‘She deserves to know what you’ve been hiding.’ Bodhi glowered. You were still watching him, and he hadn’t opened his mouth…and he heard your dragon?

A new deep sophisticated tone entered your mind, ‘Cleasaí the inevitable is going to happen—‘ Cuir?

‘That I’ll find out?’ You stood in that mental art studio you were taught to use as your source for grounding. The door wide open letting in the thoughts and voices that freely flew through your mental guards. That one invisible string that led to the door seemed to have an added two now.

“Shit,” Bodhi hissed.

“How long?” You gritted your teeth, focusing on the man in front of you. He stayed quiet. “How long did you know?” You repeated louder.

He looked at the ground, “since my threshing.”

You tensed, how come he knew, but you had been clueless this whole time?

‘It’s not ideal to have one rider running from the other while their supposed mated dragons aren’t even on speaking terms.’ Cuir explained.

You fought the tears that lined your eyes, ‘he gets to know, while I’m left in the dark?!’

‘That was for Cleasaí to tell you, my rider had no choice to listen to us dragonkind.’ Cuir explained with a steeliness.

‘And I told her I would tell her in due time.’ Cleasaí chuffed in the corners of your mind.

It felt crowded in your brain, two additional voices, on top of your grappling emotions. You inhaled deeply, blinking tears away furiously.

“Y/n,” Bodhi came towards you. “I wanted to tell you.”

“When was I going to be told?” You snapped. “When you graduate?!” A couple tears now silently slip down your cheeks.

You didn’t know where to point the frustration at. Cleasaí should have told you it was her responsibility, but if Bodhi wanted to talk to you so badly that would have been the topic to start with.

“Our luck would be they would stick you in Samara like Xaden!” You shouted.

“When was I supposed to tell you? When you were running the other direction?! Or would you have preferred a note during Battle Brief only for you to go into a volatile meltdown?” He argued.

You laughed harshly, “I would have not—”

“Oh yes you would have.” Bodhi rolled his eyes. “That’s why Xaden warned me not to.”

Your eyes widened, “Xaden knew?”

‘Why wouldn’t the Wingleader know?’ Cleasaí snorted humorlessly.

‘I don’t want to hear it from you.’ You growled shutting the mental shield up from her and hopefully Cuir. You didn’t know how this all worked.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “He’s known since before you even crossed the parapet.”

“Does anyone else know?” You crossed your arms.

“Assumedly Violet, but no one else.”

Your eyes narrowed, she seemed to know everything didn’t she?

You grew quiet, mulling over everything as the rain was the only sound that filled the streets. You felt betrayed, not only by the creature that put their faith into you and vice versa, but by the man you had grown to love. Was that why you had felt like your irritation was an out of body experience earlier?

“Why do you think I have a churam dependency?” Bodhi bit the corner of his thumb, looking at you.

“Can you get out of my mind?” You frowned, picking the soggy sweater up off the cobblestone. You sniffled, wiping your face, before proceeding to walk towards Basgiath, wanting to get out of the vicinity of him. To think you could have died without even knowing… what would have happened to the dragons—yet worse—him? You didn’t even want to ponder over the details that entailed that yet.

“Trust me I’m not trying, but your thoughts are so fucking loud.” He muttered, following you.

“Then can you not follow me?” You turned, walking backwards wiping wet hair out of your face. The sting in your eyes is almost blinding from fighting the glaze of tears.

“It’s not safe to walk by yourself this time at night.” He said as if it was obvious.

“I’ll be fine,” you tried to reassure as you slipped the dagger out of your top, you tucked between your breasts when getting ready.

“You’ve been drinking, Y/n. That’s not going to do shit.” He tried to catch up to you, but you were a step ahead, even walking backwards.

“I feel stone cold sober at this moment.” You half lied, quickly turning back around, putting the dagger back where you kept it. You didn’t want him to see how your lip trembled, and you were ready to break. That was the last thing you needed was to have a ‘volatile meltdown’ in front of him. Though that’s what this whole night felt like, a tantrum of a fever dream.

You two came to a fork in the path that led to Basgiath from Chantara. You may have forgotten which path you took earlier in the night. So you hoped as you veered left, you would be going the right way, anything to just get away.

But his hand caught your arm, pulling you around to face him.

“I just got you back, I’m not letting you just be barely out of my reach again.” He seethed, his grip firm, but gentle. His touch was still blistering against your own skin.

“I’m not doing it, Y/n. I’ve already spent years running for you when you just kept running backwards for whatever reason!”

The tears had silently begun to fall again down your cheeks, this time unable to stop. “Do you want the reason, Bodhi?” You could feel yourself start to shake as the words left your mouth. “Because I love you!” You finally admitted, the confession a hushed whisper.

You watched with tears flowing freely as he staggered back a couple steps at what you said. He remained quiet as you continued. “I was never meant to love someone freely. And everyone I loved left—”

Your declaration is cut off by his lips smashing to yours. A primal fiery heat as your lips connected, his hands cupping your jaw, your lips melted with his realizing he was kissing you. The taste of the saltiness from your tears mixed with the essence of alcohol on both your lips was dizzying.

This was everything you could have imagined and more since you were a young woman. Everything you wanted the past five years. You felt his thumbs brush underneath your chin as you relished the feeling as you continued to kiss him with a fervor you never experienced. Your hands sliding up his chest around the back of his neck, gripping on his wet dark curls you’ve always admired. A soft sigh left his lips, and it was a noise you could listen to forever, but of course your thoughts spiraled.

A much more important secret was withheld from you, not only by him, but Cleasaí. A petty love confession that you withheld as a way to protect yourself and what you thought would protect him, when the secret of bonded dragons affected four beings outweighed it all. Whether it was his choice or not.

You pulled away abruptly. “I-I can’t.” You said, feeling your own heart break.

“What do you mean you can’t?” He sputtered, confused.

“Me professing my love doesn’t change any of the circumstances.” You shook your head, letting go of him reluctantly. “If anything it only adds to the risk of this whole situation.”

You needed to think about everything thoroughly, and away from him. If not, you might not think straight. You had to go.

“Y/n,” Bodhi pleaded desperately. He watched you turn and make your way back to the war college. You ignored him, even when your bones itched to turn and run back into his arms. “Do my feelings mean nothing to you?!” He shouted, standing where you left him.

Your steps faltered, and that break you felt in your chest worsened. You turned, with a strained smile on your face through your tears.

“They do, more than you could ever realize.”

Y/n is definitely Violet coded I’m sorry 😅 and the y/n lore will thicken in part 5 hehe

Thank you sm for the comments and support, it means a lot to have people that actually enjoy what I put out and try to have patience for my posting inconsistency!! I love talking with you all about it and hearing your conspiracies through out the whole series. I think there will be 2-3 more part before I finish and move on to my next ventures, but as always like, reblogs, and comments are appreciated 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[thehighlordishere]

Hi! Could you do prompt nr. 6 with Azriel? Thank you!

Ofc! Btw naming you polite anon for now😙I will write this in gn!reader

Safe-Azriel x gn!Reader

Prompt: "Shh, you're safe. I won't let you go."

Warnings: kidnapping, angst, torture, protective Azzy, cursing(?) Cassian being Cas,

You were taken in the night, and you were terrified. The one time Azriel was sent on a mission far away, you were taken.

Before you could even awake fully, or even contact him through the bond, a sedative was injected in you. You don’t what’s it called, but not only did it knock you out, it took your magic too.

Waking up with more bruises, than you can count, and in a very uncomfortable chair. You did not know you these people were, but you knew one thing, they wanted information. Moving your head up the best you could towards the opening door, walked in two men. One went to the side as one stood in front of you, ready to interrogate you, painfully. But you knew, you weren’t going to give them nothing. And it was going to hurt.

✩✩✩✩✩

Azriel would not rest. Would not sleep, eat, nothing till he got to you. He was far away in Prythrian from you, you were staying with Feyre and her sister Nesta for a “girls week” while he was gone. He was happy to know that you would be safe and happy, having fun while he was away. Or that’s what he thought.

He felt something in the night though the bond- it was a flicker of something before it was gone. It was fear. Immediately he shot up into the air. He has never abort a mission but, usually if you had a nightmare it wouldn’t be something like this-

What the hell are you doing? Rhysand seethed in his mind.

Something’s wrong- please, he had never pleaded before, check on y/n- Azriel still rushed through the clouds of the night.

y/n? They never came here to Feyre. Where is she? Rhysand asked, worriedly.

Shit.

Azriel didn’t reply, he was almost there, he had never flown so fast. He then continued discussing with Rhsyand. They had never made it Feyre and Nesta. Instead of heading for Rhsyand he rushed to their home, he didn’t bother getting his spare key they gave him, he kicked down the door before running to their room, the lamp was on but..the bed was empty. His roar of anger and anguish shook the mountains as he left as swiftly as he came.

He desperately tried to search through the bond. But he could barely get anything, someone drugged his mate- he growled at the thought. He was going to find them. And kill them.

He rushed into Rhys office, where he was already waiting with Feyre pacing on the side of the room. “Their side of the bond is completely shut down, I can barely get anything.” He was clinging onto it.

“We get them back Az.” Feyre reassured him (and herself). He growled before going to leave,

“Wait, Azriel.”

Rhys had found some pointers to who could have taken her. Some of one of the illyrians that rebelled and left the court. The fact that it was illyrians made him grow impossibly more angry and, scared, for you.

Him and Rhys flew through the cold air, morning soon, towards the camp. The bond slowly grew stronger, you were awake…and injured. Cassian had joined them at some point during the flight.

They had arrived, as much as he wanted barge in and kill anything in his way to his mate, he must plan first. He was the spymaster, and his shadows could-

Never mind, because Cassian flew into the building like a boulder thrown from the sky. Guess he could use that excuse to also barge in. He flew in after, with Rhys sighing, perched on a tree behind him. He slayed every man he came across, and freed any Illyrian female. He would kill everything that would even think to harm you.

🝮

Azriel reached you first. You were barley conscious, if that. You slumped into him, exhausted and hurting..we’re those tears on your cheeks? You had been through so much, and it hurt-like hell. Who was here? Why can you barely breathe or stand? Are they going to hurt you again?!-

“Shh, It’s alight dear, I’m here, your safe, I won’t let you, or let anyone hurt you again.” It was Azriel, who was wiping you tears away with his thumbs as he held your face to him. As if you would get hurt again if he let you go. You were situated on his lap as he held tightly onto you, his wings around you, shrieking you from the world.

Over time your breathing slowed down, he held you for as long as you both needed. The outside world did not matter. After a long while you were snuggled into him, his hand holding your head to his chest, as another figure entered the room. He instantly turned you away from them, shielding you with his body. You relaxed as you realized it was Cassian, he was covered in blood, but a look of concern and relief on his face (that was possible?). “No more are left. Let’s go.” You have never heard Cassian so quiet before.

Azriel stood up, still holding your sniffling form to him, he would not let go of you, till you were safe. He carried you through the hallways, purposely shielding your eyes form the bloody walls and bodies of men on the ground. You three met up with Rhys before you all took to the sky.

Az looked down at you and gave a soft kiss to your forehead. Not long after you arrived back to Veleris. The townhouse was closest, we’re Feyre and Nesta waited. He took you right upstairs first, he knew you didn’t want to deal with anyone right now, (neither did he) to his room.

He asked you softly if you wanted a bath. You felt so dirty but shook your head no, content in his arms. He comforted you through the night. Holding you tight within his arms in his bed, surrounded by his sent and him entirely. He would deal with everyone for you tomorrow. You don’t need to worry about a thing.

♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎♒︎

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬

“Azriel?”

“Yes love?”

“Why is my doorframe completely destroyed? -AND WHERE IS MY DOOR??”

Btw your actually besties with Cassian if you didn’t notice

Thank you for requesting! To long? To short? I tried to keep it shorter. Thank y’all for reading.𓆉

Ps. I forgot to proof read this, enjoy the grammar mistakes😘

[https-lvesick]

[ 02 ] a girl... with mark???

[summary] toronto has never been so chaotic, but things are working out since the spiders appeared to save the citizens. spiderman and silk are the city's biggest saviours and they count on them to keep them safe, even the police. but, aside from their big responsibilities, they’re just teenagers, trying to be themselves and keep their grades good, trying to have a social life and maybe a love life as successful as their superhero life. but… what’s easier to tell? that you have a crush on your best friend or that you’re a mutant superhero?

[ ♡ ] there is a written portion with 768 words!

the next day ningning went to your apartment so you could walk together to school. she told you she was too excited that she almost couldn't sleep, so she showed up at your door at an ungodly hour. the first thing you received in the morning was kevin's information, so you sent it to your best friend.

at first, she questioned herself about maybe committing a crime, but... is it really a crime if i'm helping the police?

the moment you both stepped into the school, jeno and felix were the first to approach and greet you. by the australian demeanour, ningning and you could tell he was dying to say something.

"go ahead, bok, tell us what's bugging you." yizhuo asks and the boy is more than willing to please.

"a new girl arrived at the school!" he says excitedly and ning and you furrow your brows.

"but... it's the end of the year...?" you say. you didn't see much sense in that, but who are you to say what's happening in people's life.

"yeah, but you know what's weirder? she clinged to mark and they're together all morning." jeno adds and you feel something weird.

ningning notices the shifting in your mood and looks at you worried. she could tell you were trying your best to not show any sign of discomfort or jealousy, but she knows you too well. jeno could also tell something was off.

"don't worry y/n, it's not like she'll take your place in mark's heart." he jokes, trying to light up your mood, but it only makes it worse.

"he's kidding, right jeno?" yizhuo grits her teeth, and jeno raises his hands, defeated. the boy didn't even know what was going on. "she must have been just... attracted by mark's uh..." she was at a loss of words.

"he has no appeal..." yongbok agrees. "she may be shy and may have just matched mark's weird personality. she may just feel comfortable with him because, again, mark is a total loser. but he's our friend, it's not like i'm bad-mouthing him, it's just.."

"we got it, bok." jeno interrupts him for better.

at the end of the hallway, the four of you could spot three of your friends. jisung being the first one, the tall boy wearing his usual all black outfit was hard not to be noticed. the other two were seungmin and mark, having a girl attached to his arm. the new girl. it was visible that he was uncomfortable, so why was she doing it? is she stupid? what the fuck.

"hey guys." jisung greets jeno and yongbok with a handshake. "have you gotten smaller nings?" he teases the girl, who sighs.

"even you can't turn me down, andy park." she emphasizes his name and he smirks. "i've got something really cool and important for today."

"are you finally getting some dick? thank god, i hope this guy is really good so you can try and be a bit less... grumpy." he messes her hair and rests his arm on top of her head.

"no, but i'm about to get you a dick. you look needier than me." she nudges his stomach with her elbow, making him hiss.

during the whole time, you couldn't pry your eyes off mark and the new girl. and when he notices your burning gaze on him, he looks at you, desperate. you avoid his attention, still bothered.

"oh, yeah. guys, this is giselle, the new student. giselle, these are our friends!" seungmin introduces her, hoping his friends would be polite enough to introduce themselves. they do, but you remain quiet.

at this point you looked even more sour and not only ningning and mark could notice it, but the whole group. mark notices your behaviour and pries giselle's arms off of him, attaching himself to you. "this is y/n, my best friend." he smiles widely, poking your side so you could, at least, fake a friendly smile.

you were happy he noticed your mood and tried to comfort you, but why the title "best friend" doesn't seem right?

"i... have class in a few minutes... bye, guys." you excuse yourself and scurry away.

"i gotta go too, see you later!" ningning also excuses herself and runs after you.

"they're so weird." seungmin comments and mark furrows his brows, trying to get what he could have possibly missed about you. but he hadn't much time since giselle was all over him again.

"so... where are we going now?" she asks, batting her lashes and he can only give her an awkward smile.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❪ previous ‹ main › next ❫

[author's notes] i don't usually post on sunday, but i finished this chap sooner than i thought... and i'll update the schedule bc i can't help myself 😃😃

[taglist] @winwintea @lucuslavigne @cheolcam @dreamwithlost @spiderm444rk @byeonwooseokabs @nosungluv @chamengos @chenlesfavorite

[tashiberrie]

✮ HEARTWORM ✮  tashi duncan x fem!reader 

⋆💌⋆ TAGS - written with fem reader in mind, toxic relationship, reader is a lit student, angst, stanford era, no mention of tashi’s injury

wc- 763

masterlist

You two had met during a tennis tournament in 2004. After a long and intense match between the two of you, Tashi Duncan had come out on top.

You were drawn to each other instantly, like two moths to a flame, each recognising the shadows in the other's eyes.

From the start, your relationship was a tempest. You were addicted to the intensity of your connection, the way you could read each other's minds with a glance, and the way your souls seemed to intertwine in a dance of passion and pain. Your love was all-consuming, burning brightly but always on the verge of destruction.

Tashi was volatile, her moods swinging wildly from euphoric highs to devastating lows. She played furiously, the swings of her racket reflecting the chaos within her. You found inspiration in her unpredictability, your writing becoming darker, more profound, as you delved into the depths of your tumultuous love.

But your passion often turned into rage. Fights erupted over trivial matters, your words cutting deep, leaving scars that never fully healed.

You would argue until dawn, your voices echoing through the dorm room, throwing accusations and regrets like daggers. But in the quiet moments after the storm, you would cling to each other desperately, unable to let go despite the pain. You were addicted to the drama, the heartbreak, and the brief moments of bliss that followed your reconciliations.

You tried to leave once, packing your bags and walking out the door, determined to escape the cycle of hurt. But you couldn't stay away. You found yourself drawn back to Tashi, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your love. She was your muse, your torment, your everything. And so, you returned, your heart heavy with the knowledge that your love was both your salvation and your destruction.

Tashi, too, tried to move on. She sought solace in her tennis, pouring her pain onto the court, hoping to exorcise the demons that haunted her. But every swing of her racket reminded her of you, of the way you looked at her as if she were the only person in the world. She was lost without you, adrift in a sea of loneliness and longing. And so, she called you, her voice trembling with desperation, begging you to come back.

You reunions were always bittersweet, filled with tears and whispered apologies. You would cling to each other, promising to change, to be better, but the cycle would inevitably repeat. Your love was a battlefield, each skirmish leaving you more battered and bruised, but neither of you could surrender. You were trapped in a toxic dance, unable to break free yet unable to truly be together.

As the years passed, the toll of your relationship began to show. Your once bright eyes grew dull with fatigue, and Tashi's vibrant spirit became shadowed with sorrow. You were like two stars on a collision course, destined to burn out in a blaze of tragic beauty. But even as you destroyed each other, you couldn't imagine life apart. Your love was a prison, but it was also the only thing that made you feel alive.

One night, Tashi and you found yourselves back at the tennis court where your had first met. The atmosphere was hauntingly familiar, the rackets’ mournful wail echoing the ache in your hearts. You played in silence, your souls intertwined, lost in your own thoughts.

Tashi broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we had never met?"

You looked at her, your eyes filled with a mixture of love and pain. "Every day," you admitted. "But then I remember that even if it's killing me, I can't imagine my life without you."

Tears welled in Tashi's eyes, and she squeezed the handle of her racket tighter. "I don't know how to let you go," she confessed, her voice breaking.

You walked over to her and pulled her into your arms, holding her as if you could keep the world at bay. "Maybe we don't have to," you murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Maybe this is just who we are."

As you held each other, rain started to fall, a fitting soundtrack to your story. You were two souls entwined in a love that was as beautiful as it was destructive, unable to break free yet unable to truly be whole together. And so, you remained, locked in a tragic embrace, bound by a love that would forever be your greatest joy and your deepest sorrow.