#my eyes are burning but so is the urge to draw

[toastshark]

Why only participate in one October challenge when you can draw for TWO!?

So here’s oc-tober: fav oc + cringetober: heterocromia, featuring Red + differently glowing eyes :]

She doesn’t usually have heterochromia so I cheated here a bit lmao, in my defense her eyes used to be green in their initial design and I thought about giving it to her before, plus her current red eyes in lore are the result of magic, so it acts a neat lil reference to all that. Also glowy magic eyes are cool af

Anyways, Red! Current main oc of all the main ones. She’s what happens when the hero of every fantasy rpg or adventure game ever finishes the big adventure and now just chills with the farming sidegame or building castles for their 20 dogs.

After saving the kingdom 4 years ago (at the end of said fantasy adventure), Red was made a knight at the castle, but quit shorty after and went back to their small town home because they couldn’t and didn’t wanna live up to the ridiculous expeditions of being The Hero. Still loves adventuring and helping out others, but only out of own volition and not for some title-bound duty.

She wants to be at least a bit recognized for her actions, but also hates how everyone treats them differently once they hear who she is as if she’s divinity, or become disappointed the Hero is different from what they expected. At the same time, also feels quite selfish (after all, shouldn’t knowing you’ve helped be enough? Not very heroic, is it?)

There’s a bunch more but I currently lack the energy to write it all down so…that’s the gist of it at least backstory-wise lol. I’m not listing the personality traits here (despite what this backstory probably reads like they’ve also got actual properly negative ones) Not sure if adding any of this was even still part of the prompt but ehhhhh ^^

[grimtaleslb]

I want to draw i want to draw i want to draw so bad but i want it to be good right now without the hard work part i want to draw

[tasteracha]

a/n: hyunjin’s piercing got me. this is not proofread this is a mess of my incoherent thoughts. can be read as idol hyune or non idol! gn!reader. smut - minors dni!

he’s a little too nonchalant when he walks through the door, the hi, love he throws at you a little too casual.

he did something. and he’s afraid to tell you.

you’ve known him too long, been with him too intimately, for him to be able to hide things from you. you can read him better than a violinist reads sheet music.

“come here,” you call out to him, eyes trained on him as he moves towards you, shaking his hair into his eyes in the process.

strange. he didn’t like his hair in his eyes, if anything he would more likely push it out with expert fingers.

he sits on your right side, which is definitely not the seat he prefers on the couch. he chooses the seat by the armrest so he could lean against it, most of the times with you draped halfways over him and halfways over the rest of the couch.

the suspicion is stacking up like perfectly placed dominos, and before he could protest you’re taking his chin in your hand and turning him towards you, pushing his hair back with the fingers of your other hand.

and there it is. a shiny set of metal, embedded into the skin above his eyebrow. an eyebrow piercing.

“what the hell is that,” you ask him, voice just tinged with hysteria as you take in the new piercing.

“do you not like it?” he asks, mistaking your shock as displeasure. the way his face falls a bit makes your heart ache.

“baby no, i love it,” you scooby closer to him, making his own space yours. “i just can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”

“i wanted it to be a surprise?” he says, bashfulness lacing into his words. “you really like it?”

“shut up,” you give into the urge to straddle his lap, swinging one leg over him so you could look at him fully. “you’re so hot, oh my god.”

“i’m not god, i’m your boyfriend,” he teases, a smile quirking onto his face, and there he is. any shyness he had bleeds away into preening under your attention.

instead of telling him to shut up, which in your experience never works, you crash your lips against his with a fervor you almost didn’t expect from yourself. you run your hands down his chest as he responds in kind, his hands bracing on your waist to keep you steady against him.

you release him, lips popping against the suction, and when you lean back he looks wrecked. already. his lips are reddened and wet, eyes blown wide with pleasure, evidence of his lust pressing against your crotch.

you can’t help but reach up to cup his face, your thumb brushing past the reddened skin around his piercing and he hisses.

“sorry,” you mutter, moving your hand away, but he stops you with a burning hand on your wrist.

“like it,” he doesn’t meet your eyes, but the tips of his ears burn red. oh. memories of him moaning at the feeling of your teeth sinking into his neck, him throwing his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your nails raking down his back, him coming to the sharp, twisted movements of your hand in his cock flood your head; this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you. he’s always been a little bit of a slut for pain.

you massage your thumb across the skin there for a bit, soothing him with kisses to his jaw and his neck and his lips until he was almost shaking.

“let me suck you off?” you toy with the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and he shivers under you.

“you literally never have to ask,” he sighs as you slither off his lap onto the floor, kneeling between his legs. he’s painfully hard when you take him out of his pants, his cock red and glistening and so wet that the first glide of your lips against him is so easy.

it doesn’t take long to get him close, expert motions of your hands and your lips and your tongue bringing him to the edge in record time. you almost feel bad not drawing this out, but this isn’t for him. it’s for you.

you graze your teeth along his shaft and he breaks, thick ropes of cum coating your tongue and lacing around your mouth. you make a show of licking him clean, pushing his release into your mouth and swallowing it obscenely. he groans and throws his head back when you swipe little kitten licks against the head of his cock, making sure every bit was taken care of.

“maybe you should get this pierced next, hmm?” you look at the head of his cock pointedly, letting out a laugh at his horrified expression.

[pb524830]

clean up nice

part: 2 ;) pairing: paige bueckers x reader word count: 2.3k c/w: this is just straight filth i'm sorry a/n: miami post had me acting up! just kidding but not really but someone asked for a part two of this :)

The afterparty is small, in a suite at the hotel we’re all staying at. It’s just me, Paige, Azzi, Aaliyah, Nika, and Aubrey, along with the coaches and staff. The intimacy of it is sweet, comforting… until Paige’s hand lands on my thigh. Me, her, and the other girls are sitting on the couch. Paige is turned to Nika, talking to her quietly. She’s changed into something more casual - dark pants and a dark crop top, her gray boxers peeking out from the waistband of her cargos, a Seattle Storm cap balanced on her head. 

Fuck if she doesn’t look fucking devourable.

I’m sitting next to her, cross-legged, answering some work emails. Deliberately, she places her hand on my leg, just above my knee, and squeezes. I shoot her a small smile, returning to my phone. “You look stressed,” she murmurs, leaning forward so her lips are next to my ear. “All good,” I reassure her. Her fingers press into my bare skin, moving upward. “Do you wanna go? We can… relax.”

I don’t miss the suggestive tone to her voice, or the way her fingers are pushing my dress as they move further up my thigh. “Paige,” I whisper, warning. “Come on,” she urges and I shut my eyes. 

“We should take a picture!” Nika exclaims suddenly. Immediately, I shoot to my feet. “I’ll take it!” I volunteer. I’m met with immediate protests that I should be in the picture, but I wave them off. I fish my disposable camera out of my purse, and get to work posing them so that the picture is as good as I want it. “Nika, lean into Paige a little…” I instruct. My eyes flicker to Paige’s.

When she’s sure my eyes are on her, she spreads her legs and slouches back. Her hand lands on her leg, bracing it high on her thigh. She stares me down through hooded eyes, smirking sensually. “Take the picture, ma,” she calls. I shake my head, leaning back to capture all four of them on the couch. Once I’ve taken a few, I shove the camera back in my purse, trying desperately to ignore the fact that my panties are probably soaked. “I’m gonna get a drink,” I tell them hastily. I feel Paige’s eyes burning into my back as I retreat.

I’m filling a cup with vodka and cranberry juice when I feel her arms snake around my waist. Her head falls to my neck, lips ghosting over my shoulder. “You good?” She asks. “Mmm,” I murmur. “Room’s right upstairs,” she reminds me. “You’re so fucking horny,” I whisper, but the way her hand spans my waist has me clutching at the bottle of vodka for support.

“Can’t help it.” She presses an open mouthed kiss against my shoulder. “My girl so fine.”

“Paige, please,” I mutter, urging her to maintain some kind of decorum.

“Still needa take this dress off and fuck you.”

I sigh, the alcohol I’ve already consumed making me just as dizzy as her hands and words.

“You’d like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So easy for me, hm? Let me make you feel good, baby.”

My resolve is dampening.

“Wanna watch your pussy when you come for me this time. Wanna taste you so bad, wanna hear you scream my na-”

I groan, shoving her off of me and grabbing her hand. We make a beeline for the door, and I don’t miss the knowing smirk she shoots Aubrey. I push her into the elevator, and she turns, smirking down at me. “Quit it,” I tell her, before she can open her mouth. She shuts her mouth immediately, her grin still evident. 

We get to the hotel room, and as soon as the door shuts, Paige has me against it, her tongue in my mouth. She kisses me languidly, claiming my mouth, kneading my ass to draw out all the sounds she wants to hear. I push her back, shoving her onto the bed. Her gaze is hungry, tongue darting out to lick her lips. “Take your pants off,” I breathe. Her eyes darken, but she unbuttons them, slipping out of them. I step closer, reaching for the zipper on my dress. “Shirt,” I order. She shrugs that off too, and I nearly fall to my knees when I realize she isn’t wearing a bra.

She’s on the bed in just her boxers when I slide the dress down my body and step out of it. Paige tips her head back, groaning at the sight. “I’m so fucking lucky,” she mumbles, looking back to me and shaking her head. I scoff, stepping into her space to dance my hand over her abs. “Me? Look at you, fuck.”

“You like that?”

“You know I do.”

“Forgot how much you like my abs. You wanna ride them?” She grins at me wickedly.

I bite my lip, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Please,” I breathe, putting some whine in my tone.

She sits back against the pillows, and the up and down of her breathing flexes her stomach. I’m salivating at the thought of dragging my clit up and down her torso. “Whatever you want, ma,” she intones. I slip out of my panties, tossing them at her. She shakes her head, beckoning me closer. I crawl onto the bed, straddling her waist.

Paige’s hands latch to my hips, rubbing my ass. “Come on. Ride it.”

I lower myself slowly, my cunt screaming for contact. Then I rock against her and moan. Loud.

“Lemme hear you.”

I rock back again, throwing my head back. “Oh, my God,” I gasp. 

“So fucking pretty.”

I whine, speeding up a little. It’s too much. It’s too little. My hands grapple for my breasts.

“Fuck. Yes, play with your tits like that. You look so fucking hot right now, baby, please.”

Her hands come up to play with her own tits, massaging, pulling at her nipples, and when she moans, my hips stutter. “Don’t stop,” she begs. “Please, do not fucking stop.” I bat her hands away, replacing them with my own.

My hips speed up as I knead her tits, pinching her nipples as her large hands land on my ass, working me faster. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I sigh, my voice cracking as I take in the sight of her lust-glazed eyes, her perfect, perky tits, her jaw slack, mouth open.

“Fucking getting off on my abs. So fucking- fucking dirty, shit.”

I moan, falling against her, the rivulets of pleasure shooting from my clit through my body. “I’m gonna come, Paige.” 

Her hands at my ass move my hips faster, and I buck against her, chasing my release desperately. 

“You close? Fuck, you’re close, come on. Come for me, ma, just let go.”

“I’m almost- fuck! Oh, shit, shit, shit, Paige!”

“There you go. Good fuckin’ girl, there you go.”

I shake against her as the orgasm racks through me, moaning into her skin. She rocks my hips against her body until she’s sure the aftershocks have subsided. “You did so good for me baby,” she soothes, rubbing my back. Her hands lace into my hair down my back, fingers getting caught. “So good for me,” she murmurs absentmindedly.

I kiss her slowly, my body fucking exhausted, but her lips so painfully tantalizing. “I made a mess, baby, I’m sorry,” I whisper. She squeezes my ass. “Clean it up, then,” she says. I sit up suddenly, eyes shooting to hers. “What?” I whisper. Paige’s hand lands sharply against my ass, the slap stinging. “Clean up. Your fucking. Mess,” she repeats. I stare at her for a moment, then slide my pussy down her body, easing off of her to hover my mouth over her stomach.

Her abs look even better now, somehow, the shadows and highlights of them glistening with my slick. “Today, ma,” she drones. I place my tongue right above the waistband of her boxers, then lick all the way up to her nipple, taking that in my mouth and sucking it off with a pop. She groans a little. “Good girl.” I continue, lapping up all of my come, occasionally attending to her nipples. When I’m finished, she’s just about drooling, and I kiss back down her stomach.

Her boxers are wet where her arousal has soaked through, and I lick my lips. “You wanna taste, baby?” She asks. I pout at her. “So bad,” I whine. “Fuck, it’s all yours. All yours,” she sighs, tipping her head back as I kiss her cunt through her boxers. I slide them down her legs, discarding them elsewhere.

I don’t bother teasing, relishing in the way her back arches when I attach my mouth to her clit. I drag my tongue through her folds, lapping at her cunt diligently.

 I suck hard on her clit. “Fuuuuuuuck,” she moans, her throat scratchy with desire. My back arches at that, ass up in the air. “Look so fuckin- pretty, oh, fuck- between my legs.”

“So wet,” I moan, knowing the vibrations of my voice will make her crazy. They do, and a hand lands in my hair, pushing me down, hips bucking into my face. The other hand covers her eyes, and it’s fucking magical - the way her body responds to my mouth, her features screwed with pleasure, the words falling from her perfect pink lips.

She fucks herself against my mouth, and I smile, feeling her nails dig into my scalp, eating her out like she’s my last fucking meal. She tastes so good - so sweet and forbidden, dripping down my chin. I can hear my tongue moving through her slick, laving filthily through her folds.

“I’m close. Shit, I’m so close. Please. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“Come for me, baby.”

“I’m gonna- Yes, right there, right there, just like that. Oh, fuck! Fuck!”

She falls apart against me with my name on her lips, hips bucking erratically and I moan into her, working her through it. 

Finally, her hips still, body slumping against the bed. I crawl back up her body, kissing her lazily, letting her taste herself. “So good for me,” I murmur against her lips. “Make me feel… so fuckin’ incredible,” she tells me between kisses. “Wanna taste you, ma.”

“You’re tired,” I tell her, but my pussy is soaked from getting her off. Her hands run down my back, eyes searching mine. “Sit on my face, then,” she suggests casually. I’m too tired to react appropriately, so my eyes just widen. “Paige-”

She groans. “Please, baby. I need- I need to taste you. So fucking bad, you have no idea.”

“I’m gonna suffocate you,” I try to reason.

“Damn good way to go out,” she retorts, her voice raspy. 

“Please,” she begs, lips attaching to mine again, biting my bottom one as she pulls away. I sigh, moving my hands over her torso. “Okay,” I relent. She grins against me, moving me up to hover over her mouth. “I’m… still sensitive,” I warn. She smirks at me. “Never stopped me before.”

Then she’s shoving me against her mouth, and I’m moaning her name as filthily as anyone has moaned anyone’s name before, clutching at the headboard as her tongue licks and her mouth sucks and she pushes me down against her lips. She moans into me, and when I look down, her eyes are on me. A moan falls from my mouth, followed by a whimper, and her eyes roll up into her head.

I grind against her face, letting her devour me, feeling my climax already close. “Oh, yes, Paige. That’s so good. So good,” I sigh out, my stomach already tightening. She sinks her tongue into me in response, and I gasp, my head knocking against the headboard. Then her lips latch onto my clit and suck and suck and suck until-

“Paige!” I scream, my thighs shaking, but she holds them around her face, her grip strong. I nearly sob, riding it out, my forehead braced against the headboard.

She isn’t done, though, the tears streaking down my face, spurring her on.

Paige flips us over easily, shoving my thighs open, and burying her face in my cunt again, two ringed fingers fucking into my cunt without reservation. My back arches at the same time that my thighs clench around her face, my hand at her head trying to push her away, because it’s too much and it hurts. She fucks into my cunt relentlessly, tongue laving at my clit, her hand batting mine away before thrusting my thighs back open harshly.

They burn, but the pain is so fucking good. 

“It hurts,” I gasp, tears streaking down my face. “Take it,” she growls, and then I’m coming again, stars dotting the back of my eyelids. The room spins, and perhaps goes black for a second or two. Then - it’s the sight of Paige.

Her face is fucked out.

Her hair is a mess.

Her eyes are dark - so dark, I can hardly see the clear blue of her irises.

Her nose is shiny with me, my slick coating her signature smirk, and she looks so fucking proud.

She strokes my thighs. “You take it so good, ma. Always so good for me, right?”

I nod, chest still heaving, my eyes fluttering shut. “Come here,” I say, gesturing for her to come closer. She obliges, easing out from between my thighs to slide her body against mine, entwining us together. “Could make you come a million times, it still wouldn’t be enough,” she murmurs, kissing my forehead.

I laugh hoarsely, burying my face in her neck. “Could come for you a billion, and I’d still beg for one more.” I feel her smile against my hair. I pull back to look up at her. Her mascara has flaked down right underneath her eyelids, her pupils shrinking a bit to reveal that stark blue. “We should clean up,” she murmurs. I shake my head, burrowing further into her chest. “Leave it,” I say.

“For what?” She knows the answer.

“Tomorrow morning,” I grin.

[villainousauthor]

Villain hums thoughtfully as they circle around Hero, who's currently staring off, looking despondent.

"They should have come to rescue you by now." Villain speaks in a matter-of-fact tone, their eyes burning into Hero.

"They should have...I thought they would have by now." Hero looks to the ground, trying to fight the burning in their throat, the sting of their unshed tears.

It's been weeks since Hero was taken, and so far, their team hasn't even attempted to come for them. Hero kept telling themself it was only a matter of time, but the more the endless days and nights at Villain's hideaway blur together, the more they realize the truth. Help is not coming.

Villain lets out a noise of frustration and stalks towards Hero again.

"They should have by now! Where is your team? They're your allies, are they not?" Villain rakes a hand through their own hair, looking to Hero for an answer.

All Hero can manage in response is a half-hearted shrug. Villain's frown deepens, brows draw down into an expression of irritation.

Noticing Villain's anger, Hero looks up at them defiantly, trying to fight the urge to cry still yet.

"If keeping me here this long really bothers you, you can just let me go. I don't need you rubbing it in that my team isn't coming." They try to make their words as biting as possible, but they can't help the wobble in their voice.

Villain lifts a brow, surprised by Hero's words. "I'm not upset with you, and I'm certainly not complaining about keeping you to myself," their words were smooth and deadly, tone dropping as they spoke, "But your team? I have half the mind to tear them apart right about now."

Sauntering forward, they use their arms to back Hero in against the chair, leaning closer. "I'm furious at them for abandoning you to my devices. If I was any other villain, or if I was any less fond of you, do they even know what would have become of you by now? They don't care about your fate at all."

Lip trembling, Hero can feel the tears they fought against so much finally beginning to run at Villain's words. Sniffling, they try to hide their face, hide their weakness as their shoulders shake. They've been abandoned. The thought threatens to suffocate them as they try and hold back sobs.

"Oh love," Villain's voice was a soft coo now, spoken closer to their ear. A strong but gentle hand goes to Hero's wrist, prying their hand away from their face. Villain's face is inches away from them now, meeting their tearful eyes, looking at them with an emotion they can't place.

Villain brings a finger up, wiping a tear from their cheek. "Don't cry, love. You're safe here. I'll take good care of you since your hero friends evidently can't." They softly murmured and pressed even closer.

"But-" Hero tried to speak but was quickly cut off by a finger to their lips.

"Shhh...don't worry about it. I'll make sure they pay for the pain they caused you," Villain runs a thumb across their lower lip, fingers caressing their jaw. They tilt Hero's chin up gently, not letting them look away or hide their crying. They lean in close, kissing a tear away softly. Hero tries to turn away yet again and feels Villain's hand tighten ever so slightly, but they lean back, voice still gentle as they speak again.

"In the meantime, we'll make sure you're comfortable. You'll be staying with me for a while."

[libbyfandom]

“In This Life, and the Next. I Swear.”

Happy Holidays, have a bittersweet reincarnation fic.

Summary: Mizu may not believe in reincarnation, but you do. You'll believe in it enough for both of you. You may not be strong, but your soul is. You'll carry her to a better lifetime.

Content Warnings: Did your really think no one would die in a reincarnation fic? Hmmm?

“Next lifetime, you have to court me,” you murmur into Mizu’s neck as her fingers trace along the bare skin of your back where you lie atop her. “None of this... stoic loner act where I have to wear you down into letting me love you. Yeah?”

Mizu snorts, her other hand resting over her eyes. “Not on your life.”

Making an offended noise, you bite her collarbone in retaliation, hearing her laughter fill the inn room.

“When we come back, I want our lives to be simple,” you say as Mizu helps you down from the horse you borrowed on your escape from the last town.

Resisting the urge to let a sigh slip at this fantasy coming back up again, she mutters, “Yeah? You’d prefer to have a boring life, after you basically attached yourself to me and Ringo to escape your home?”

“Well yeah, I’m getting all of my adventuring done in this life cycle.”

“And you don’t want that again?” Mizu starts to lead the horse toward the outer skirts of the city, hoping to find a stable to leave it without being spotted.

You walk alongside her, studying her passive expression. “I do." A beat. "But I want you to have peace more.”

Her eyes dart to you, genuinely caught off guard. The openness, the honesty in your face has a bubble of overwhelming emotion welling up in her chest.

Her head turns back to the road, retreating into her silence to avoid speaking and risking her voice betraying her.

But after a few minutes of her staring off into the distance, she quietly says with a softened brow, “That’s kind.”

‘Do you regret choosing this life, knowing how quickly it will all end? Or did you walk into it blindly, optimistic for some happier resolution?’

Mizu jerks you up into her arms, apologizing frantically over and over as you scream in pain when she applies pressure to the stab wound deep in your stomach. She tenses her grip as your body tries to seize and jerk away from the splitting, hot pain radiating through your nerves from pressure on the gash. You’re too scared to look down and see your own insides peeling away from each other.

Taigen and Ringo are fending off the last few bounty hunters, the clashing of swords and knives fading into the background as you dig your bloodied fingers into her haori. “Come find-find me again,” you say with frantic eyes, swallowing back another mouthful of metallic blood forcing its way up your burning throat.

“What?!” Mizu’s attention is torn between keeping an eye on her back and wrapping a torque around your middle from the fabric she torn off your kosode.

You grab her face, leaving a bloody streak on her cheek as you force her to look at you. Her widened blue eyes are forced to look into yours with no barrier, her glasses lost somewhere in the snow from the fight. You can feel how fast your body is losing warmth. The edges of your vision are blurring, and the draw to fall asleep is growing more powerful than the burning gap in your stomach. Mizu may not know how to die, but you-

‘I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so, so sorry.’

You need her to hear you before everything stops. So you grip her cheek and stare into her panic-stricken eyes. You’re scared too, but you’re more scared of coming back to this world and not seeing her again than you are of not coming back at all.

“Come find me again.”

Mizu hates the concept of promises, and the bigger and more impossible they sound the more she avoids them. But you nose is turning pink from the cold, or from your crying. Tears are trailing down the sides of your temples, cutting through any blood stains across your face.

And she hates promises.

Tears well in her own eyes as she clenches her teeth against a violent sob.

But she hates denying you proof that she loves you more. If you pass without it… if you die with the last words in your ears being 'I can't'…

Every whisper and cry of “Onryō” she’s ever heard echo louder and louder in her head until they're all scream chanting in unison. She blinks, and for a heart-freezing moment your terrified eyes turn her shade of blue.

“Onryō!”

“ONRYŌ!”

"𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬o҉𝔫r҉𝔶o҉𝔬n҉𝔯y҉𝔬-"

Her hand lifts away from the rapidly growing stain of blood coming through the makeshift torque across your abdomen and settles on your cheek.

She forces the corners of her mouth up into a reassuring smile as her own body trembles.

“Okay,” her voice wavers as she blinks out tears. “I’ll come find you.” Her voice is like a child making their first vow. “I’ll, I’ll come find you again.”

You smile weakly, and despite her own forced one, her eyes fill with terror for just a moment at the blood staining your teeth.

You reach up and tug her hair out of its high bun, watching it tumble around her shoulders.

You need your soul to memorize what she looks like when she’s not hiding. For next time.

Your own smile wavers. “You have to. I won’t… I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”

The fragile look on her face crumples into despair. Mizu leans her temple against yours as the sobs overtake her, her long hair draping over both of your faces and blocking out the world. “I will. I will I will I will I will I-“

Her fractured voice fades away, and your vision swims.

But your soul is at peace.

‘It's your turn, Mizu.’

‘I ended up burying you with as many red spider lilies I could scavenge. They’ll help guide you to the next life. I made Ri( ) swear to bury me next to you with just as many. If he’s around to collect my corpse when I go. If anyone is. ( )I used to not care if anyone did, as long as I finished my mission. But now I’m terrified something happens and I can’t keep my promise.

I’m sorry. I miss you. I’m sorry I made a promise that’s out of my hands.

( )

I’m sorry.’

You stare down at the spread of papers and antique diaries written in kanji. You’re trying to organize them by chronological order based on context from the letters and diaries, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult as you go. Especially with words smudged and faded by centuries of time. You rub your eye behind your glasses.

‘She really is making this hard for me.’ You sigh through your nose as you bite down on the end of your pen.

“Excuse me?”

“Hm?” You glance to your side, surprised to be pulled from your work and come face to face with probably the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen. “Hello?”

“Sorry,” she smiles, lowering her head to pull her tinted glasses off. “I just saw you over here and uh-“ her expression goes a little strained as she looks for the right words. “I just, uh-”

You glance between her and the spread of antique writing from the archives. “Are you the person that checked these out last? Do you need them back?”

“No. I just-" She makes a face. Whatever she planned to say when she came over was quickly unraveling. Her eyes dart away, and land on the diaries. Her eyebrows furrow slowly, something flickering in her blue eyes.

Very pretty eyes…

She jerks her chin down at the spread of papers. “What is that?”

A little thrown off at the changes in conversation, you pick up one of the diaries. “Um, this is work for my master thesis. I’m studying unknown woman and queer history of Edo Japan.” Your fingers drum over the cover. “Came across this treasure when going through the archives. It’s a bunch of writing from a rogue swordsman to his lover after her death. But in my review of it, I’m positive I can prove that he was actually a woman,” you grin a little with pride, shifting your weight side to side with delight at getting to discuss your research.

“Lesbian samurai,” she laughs lowly, eyes warm.

“Something like that,” the corners of your lips lift up.

“Well that’s really fascinating,” her fingers trail across the edge of the table as she steps closer. “I’d love to hear more about it. Maybe… over dinner?” The corner of her mouth grimaces for a moment, her eye twitching once with frustratation at herself with that cheesy delivery.

Your lips part, eyes widening with a breathless little “Oh.”

The woman gains confidence from how your eyes light up behind your glasses as you flush. Her hand squeezes her shoulder, a nervous tic. “I’m sorry. I saw your over here and had to give it a shot.”

“No, I’m glad you did,” you’re quick to reassure her. You look up at her with bright eyes as you dig through your backpack for notebook paper.

“I wouldn’t have forgiven you if you didn’t.”

A tilt of her lips, her hand outstretched. “Mizu.”

You introduce yourself.

You hold out the pen and paper to get her number, and she asks as she leans over to scribble it out on the table, “Anything good in those letters?”

“Most of it’s pretty grief heavy,” you smile sadly. “But in a poetic and romantic way? Like, even though her love was gone, probably pretty young, she kept her memory alive as she fought through life.”

Mizu glances up at you, and something tightens in your throat and sinks into your stomach. You don’t know why you admit quietly, “The first time I read them I started crying in the archive room.”

A beat, where you feel dread creep up your neck at suddenly tanking the mood.

Her face grows impassive, deadly quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

You quickly blink back tears that come on alarmingly fast. “What?”

Mizu blinks too, straightening up. “Just, sorry that it made you sad. I guess.” She smiles again, albeit a little smaller this time, and hands over the paper. “I guess I’ll see you? Hopefully soon?”

A soft laugh huffs out your nose as that melancholic moment passes. “Yeah,” your hand brushes against the inside of her palm as you take the paper. “Really soon.”

She leaves you with a satisfied grin, her nose scrunching up as she turns and walks off.

You watch her go, feeling something tighten in your stomach again at how relaxed she looks.

You look down at her number, and see that she slyly signed it with the kanji for “Promise”.

As you begin to organize the letters to skim through them again, your hesitate on the one you had just been reviewing. You hold it and the notebook paper up side by side.

The letter unfolds and a single, dried, book pressed red spider lily flutters to your feet.

Mizu perfectly copied the handwriting of the swordswoman’s kanji.

“Huh.”

[hanasnx]

ermmm jj and face fucking ? 😁

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | reader has hair that swings in a ponytail and is a kook | situationship w jj | hair pulling | oral (m receiving) NOTES: tbh i was having trouble imagining jj face fucking but i gave it my best shot and i like what i came up with | based on dwight’s interaction with angela in the office during the rabies fun run

JJ MAYBANK out with the crew when he spots you. It doesn’t take long before the others follow the source his eyes are glued on. You’re out for a jog, wearing your work-out clothes that accentuate your shape, ponytail swinging with each stride. JJ moistens and draws his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches, waiting for you to get closer while his friends jeer at him immaturely. John B pats him hard on the back, “Go, man, before she gets away.” he encourages, pushing at JJ to get him in gear.

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” he replies, and he hangs his head with a shake at the chorus of the crew yipping and hollering. Chasing you, he’ll admit he gets a good view of your behind. So he idles for a second to watch how your ass jiggles with each sway, and he ignores the creeping urge to tap your backside when he approaches you. He gets in a jogging stance to blend in with you, slowing his pace when he reaches your side to fall into step with you. “Howdy there, kook.”

You playfully roll your eyes with a scoff. “Hey, JJ.” you relent in a musical pant, refusing to look at him because you know he’s trying to make fun of you. You can tell in the way he holds himself, how he swings his arms, it’s an exaggerated version of what you’re doing as you run.

“You look cute as a button. Worked up quite a sweat.” he flirts, advancing into you, and you absorb his coy bump. You can feel how his gaze burns you, stuck on how your sweat drips down your neck into the valley of your cleavage. Briefly he imagines licking it off.

“Thanks, JJ.” you tell him, in the same melody as before. He butters you up a lot, you know what he’s here for. “What do you want?” you ask curiously.

“Look, there’s a little thing back at the Chateau tonight. You should, uh,” He sniffs, and swipes his nose with his knuckle, glancing away. It takes him a fraction of a second to gather the courage to invite you normally. How was a situationship supposed to act in this situation, he didn’t know. “you should come.”

You pull your lips to one side in thought. “I dun-no, Jayj, I’m supposed to meet someone tonight.” You keep your voice light and sing-songy, letting him know you’re not rejecting him, just teasing him with the prospect you might not be able to make it.

“Hey, no skin off my back.” he replies, suspending his flat hands in the air in surrender. He drops them. “You’ll just have to promise I get to wrap that pretty ponytail ‘round my palm tomorrow night.” It’s said so casually, it finally earns him a proper look from you.

You do end up going, you do end up drinking, and you do end up right where he wants you. Nestled between his legs. Rope of hair wound in his fist. “Didn’t think you’d end up back here, huh? Thought you’d be rid of me?” He’s spitballing, but there’s a twinge of sincerity, as if a pretty kook like you wouldn’t waste your time with him. He guides your head up and down, his grip on your hair stinging your scalp but you don’t mind. You like it. Sweet whimpers expel from your mouth every time your throat isn’t stuffed by the head of his cock nudging it’s way in there.

Your tongue swipes at the underside of his dick, lining the lip of his tip as it pulls out, only to be buried back in when he yanks you to his crotch by your hair. Like a leash, it leads you as he uses you to get himself off.

[velvetmud]

omg could i request a combo of ¹⁴⁾ tipsy sex & ⁴²⁾ breeding kink ?

yeeeeeessssss omg these are both my favs🥴🥴🥴🥴

warning(s): explicit 18+ daddy kink, nicknames, dirty talk, breeding kink, alcohol, filth

Rubber

—

“That’s it. Take your seat, girl,” Joel slurs his affirmation, lying back so loosely and uncharacteristically worry-free and relaxed right behind you, teasing you with the shapes he draws with his fingers on the surface of your naked back.

“No protection, no pills,” he marvels, trailing his middle finger over to the hood of your clit. Rubbing. Swirling so delicately that your hips can’t help but start to buck. “Just this,” he taps the lips of your pussy with the mushroom head of his cock. It felt so fucking huge and so smooth it became irresistible to slide yourself up against.

“Let’s breed this little pussy tonight, yeah? Have my cum overflowin’ deep inside, raw,” He emphasizes, as if it were a challenge between his loud gasps and long groans. “Bet you’re ovulating too, baby. Body’s thirsty for this cum. Fuck yeah I know you are, mmmhm. Feel you dripping ‘round this cock for it right now princess—jesus christ.”

His rambling gets put to a hault when your pussy starts hopping up and down on his lap, tipsy and unafraid of going in deep the first thrust. Testing his resistance to fill you up and impregnate you under only thirty seconds.

In a haze, he’s snatching the half finished bottle he left on your nightstand. A shiny glass liquor bottle that you’d both put a good dent in for no particular reason tonight. Maybe it was Joel’s way of unwinding from the stress of his work week, or his incessant need for having drunk sex—but either way you didn’t ask any questions when he poured a pair of shots on the counter, and you were more than on board to get shit faced and fuck him. The electric release of unrelenting tension always bubbling whenever you’re both itching for it.

You knew he had a dirty set goal in mind when he got progressively more chatty and flirty up after some of the strong shots of aged whiskey you’d shared.

His intent was to fuck you, ravage you—this time do it raw without a rubber barrier to block the best sensations, breed you and have you tethered to him for life. You’d admit it out loud if he wants you to, but you know without a doubt he’ll be good to you and your child.

After he guzzles down another long sip of the bronze colored liquor, the burn as it goes down doesn’t even register as he holds on for dear life while your bare pussy uses him, squelches for him. He brings the tip of the bottle around to you, nudging your shoulder with it. You nod without another thought, opening your mouth out to him and wrapping around the mistakably phallic shaped glass. It turns him on impossibly some more just to watch your lips and those eyes, making him give right into the urge to drunkenly bob his hips upwards to shove the girth of his base in.

You feel how engorged he is, comparing all of that to other men whom suffer from infamous ‘whisky dick’ syndrome, which just didn’t fucking happen to men like Joel. Not with his piercing stamina, infinitely quenching his thirst to get off, even if he does have a belly half full of alcohol.

Joel unabashedly moans like a whore and rushes to slam the bottle back down on your night stand, suddenly ready to take on control.

“Who’re you gonna let breed this pussy up, huh mama? Who’s gonna be dicking you down ‘til you’re fucking stupid?”

“You! You, daddy!”

“You promise?”

“F-fuck, I promise daddy, you’re the only one—“

“Mmmhm, that’s right. Daddy’s the only one s’gonna knock you up, gonna make sure n’ knock this pussy up good—”

The clapping of his balls slamming repeatedly against your ass gets drowned out by your screams, your bodies’ precum dribbling down your ass and ringing around Joel’s dick.

“I can’t stop—gonna cum all over you, daddy, ple…. please!”

He bites his lower lip, not changing a thing about the rough tempo of his hips, knowing you love it when he goes deep.

“Of course, get daddy’s dick wet, baby. Yeaaaaah.”

He spanks your ass once, and twice, feeling you clench and pulsate, using his impressive girth like your very own fuckstick and it’s the hottest thing Joel’s ever known.

“Fill it up, daddy, need your cum inside to get me pregnant,” you breathe, drool slowly slipping down the corner of your mouth.

His cock gets drenched in your juices, milky stains trailing down and putting Joel in a frenzy as he nears his orgasmic end.

“I see those legs still shaking, baby, get ready for it. That’s it, mama. Here it comes. M’bout to flood this pussy.”

Joel slams himself in balls deep, bruising your hips and your ass cheeks by the brunt of his force while shudders from the impending high. Can physically feel his balls getting milked while you lay there and take it, absorbing his thick load. Roaring like a man in victory, he fucks his length into you some more. Shooting every drop inside, setting off a primal chain reaction in the both of you while his load paints your every crevice.

His cock is still lodged in you while you both heave and recover from the animalistic burn, shuddering from pure relief of what your bodies were made and born to do.

“Fuck, you’re—that feels perfect mama. Never fucking this sweet pussy with a rubber ever again. Pullin’ out now, better not see a single fucking drip fall out, hear me? Keep those pretty legs pointing up. Let your body do the magic.”

As soon as Joel pulls himself out he’s cupping your pussy with his palm, ensuring nothing will ooze out and go to waste.

“Normally love watchin’ you push it back out f’me, but we’re gonna have to keep it all in this time.”

[azsazz]

Just Hold On

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Rhysand just loves to make you cum.

Warnings: Smut, prolonging orgasms, overstimulation, dom/sub dynamics, m dom f sub, oral, f receiving.

Word Count: 1,239

Notes: I should be writing smut for Kinktober but you know how I be.

_________________________________________

Hold on, darling, he purrs in your mind and you want to scream. Your chest builds with it, burning hot as he holds you on the cusp of oblivion. You try to jerk against his mouth but he wills your body still, rubbing the inside of your thighs that are shaking with the urge to slam closed around his head. I’m not quite finished yet.

Please, you cry in response, but the blood in your ears drowns out his response. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe the longer Rhys tortures you like this, the building ache between your legs for the need to release is too great. Your fingers twitch but you can’t unfurl them where they’re clutching the sheets. Please, I can’t–

You don’t have to worry about if you can’t, darling, Rhys answers, sucking harshly at your clit. It makes your spine want to curve off of the bed, toes curl into the sheets but you can’t do a godsdamned thing with the grasp he has on you. 

You might break. He might very well shatter your mind for this, or trap you inside this inferno of passion so great that you feel like you’ve descended into Hel itself. Mouth parted in a silent scream as he works, taking his fill of you until you’re a begging mess. His filthy words in your head ring in time with the way he’s flicking his tongue, swirling around your aching bud, red and swollen as he nips and sucks.

I think I might just keep you here all night, he admits sinfully and you want to cry. Your nose prickles with the feeling of the emotion and tears well in your eyes but not a single one falls. You’re forced to beg instead, utterly unable to move a muscle, even if your thighs are shaking and your chest aches with the pounding of your heart.

It’s the best you’ve ever felt but also the worst, stuck there as he draws your orgasm from you like you’re nothing more than his plaything. 

Rhys, baby, please, I can’t, I can’t, it’s too much, you beg, but the High Lord feasting between your legs doesn’t falter. Your words mean nothing to him and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s blocked you out completely, ready to take what he wants as he always does. Gods, your frustrated scream is in your own head he teeths across your clit, pulling it with a harsh suck. 

I love it when you get all needy. His voice in your head all languid and delighted sends fire coursing through your veins. Makes my cock so fucking hard. 

He lets your mouth part in a moan that rattles the walls. It makes him shudder and bury his face deeper. His cock leaking against his thigh, and his hands are pulling your waist tighter and tighter against his face as he releases you, wanting you to writhe and fight him to get away from the pleasure he’s pulling.

Your heart slams in your chest and your hands fly to his hair, gripping the dark, damp, tendrils in a firm grip. You try your hardest to rip his head from your cunt but he’s too strong, too adamant about making you cum again and again and again.

He’s being sloppy with it, tongue moving in long strokes across your cunt. He even dips down and slides his mouth against your hole, which causes you to jump. Rhys is ready though, teeth exposed so your  swollen clit grazes across them, tearing a whimper from your mouth. 

Cum for me darling, let me taste you.

“Haven’t you had enough yet?” You pant, but you can barely speak with how heavy your chest is moving, begging for air.  Rhysand doesn’t allow it, his hold on you strong, even with the amount of times he’s made you practice shoving him out. 

Pleasure coils your body like a viper. It’s building in your gut, so deep inside of you where no one besides Rhys could ever reach. He toys with you, and the unmistakable feeling is mirrored in his own body, the bond reflecting your emotions tenfold. His cock aches but he refuses to touch himself because he’s too busy touching you and he wouldn’t dare remove himself from your body. 

You are the air I breathe, the essence that gives me life, his words add to the heat pooling in your gut and you clutch him tighter and tighter as he draws you nearer towards the edge. I will never get enough of you.

Like a whip, you come crashing down. You rut against his tongue like something desperate, squeezing his head between your legs as you pull him tighter by his blue-black hair, rocking against him. He lets you, lets you take from him in that desperate way he always feels when he’s around you. It’s the primal need to be near him, to be inside of you, your souls match each other's. 

If he could cut you open and climb inside of your body he would, and he loves the way you take what you want from him, even when he’s the one holding you on the cusp of your orgasm. 

It lasts too long, as Rhys takes hold of your mind, the only way he can be inside of you is to do so mentally, and the euphoria he feels inside has him finally allowing himself to give his cock a stroke. He prolongs your orgasm, keeping you in the kaleidoscope of emotions whirling around in your mind, body, and soul.

Your breath is stuck in your chest, the feeling overwhelming, even more so than the plethora of orgasms Rhysand has graced you with this evening. You can barely feel the light lapping of his tongue between your trembling thighs. You can hardly hear the soft moan he makes as he suckles your juices like they give him life. He fists his cock roughly in his hand. He won’t let you come down from your high until he’s cum too.

It feels like you’re blind, with the stars and spots consuming your vision. There’s a ringing in your ears and a rattle in your chest. Your fingers are stiff, aching from your grip in Rhys’ hair and your muscles ache from being locked up so tightly.

He releases you all at once, cum spurting from his cock and onto his legs, the bedding that’s slipped off the side of the bed, the floor. Air whooshes from you and your body goes lax. You keep your hand in his hair but it’s softer now, petting, reassuring yourself that he’s here with you. 

Rhysand kisses your thighs softly and continues up your body until he’s settling across the bed and pulling you into his body. Your eyes flutter open weakly to meet that glorious violet gaze, and your heart skips at that perfect smirk he’s wearing. 

His eyes are soft though, no more teasing than he usually is, and you can taste yourself on his mouth when he kisses you gently, dipping into your mouth for a sweet kiss while he holds your pliable body closer, tucking you into his side like he likes. 

He presses gentle kisses to your cheeks, nose, across your eyelids because you’ve closed them again, beyond exhausted. Rhys brushes hair from your face, admiring you, glowing in the buttery light of his room. 

His mate, his muse.

[anadiasmount]

hey love! could you write a blurb about jude being mad at you and not talking to you and you make it up to him and he knows he cant stay mad so he forgives you and you cry and hes all like "dont cry bby" something super fluffy

hi hi hi!! here you go lovely! 🤍 i think i would cry the minute he starts ignoring me… 😟💔

| masterlist | jude's masterlist

you rolled your eyes and walked away from jude who scrolled through his phone quietly and undisturbed. he had been ignoring you since last night when you had accidentally forgotten to remind him you had plans. they were made super quick so he was left dumb founded when you were out and instead at home with him.

you texted him prior before you left and you guess he had not read that. jude was being cold, ignoring your hugs or attempts of kisses. last night when you got home all he could do was turn and face the door and didn't even utter a good night. you tried to make his favorite cookies but he looked at them and went to training. he hadn't said a word since the day before.

jude was chatty, sometimes you would lose focus on what he was saying because he went from one story to another in a span of seconds. it began to irritate you when he wasn't speaking, not answering texts, calls, and even questions you asked. he simply felt like a stranger.

you got up early to make him breakfast, even a small snack so he could have it after training. filled his training bag with clean clothes and his extra pair of boots, and his water bottle. he didn't even thank you, walking away and into the taxi to the training center.

it bothered you the entire day how distant and immature he was being. jude was the type to check in, so glancing at your phone every minute that passed also didn't help. he should be able to talk it out instead of acting like a jerk. you cursed at him silently in your head, pinching the bridge of your nose before returning back to your tasks.

on the way back home, you picked up his favorite meal from the grocery store, getting all his favorite snacks and drinks he would eat around the house. you got a deck of cards and a new board game to try out. you wanted to make it up to him, any way possible.

jude continued to ignore you throughout the evening, making you start feel uneasy and guilty for a small mistake you committed. part of you also still felt angry because he would even bother to answer anything or the fact he was in his own world making you feel like an outcast. your eyes burned with tears as you heard him walk upstairs, choking back a sob as all you wanted was to be held by him.

jude upstairs was also beginning to feel he dragged it out to much. a feeling in his chest when he remembered how defeated you looked as he came up to your bedroom. he wanted you to feel like he felt yesterday, but he could see it wasn’t the same for you. jude had to resist the urge to tell you about his day, the thank you’s for making him food and cookies, for going above and beyond all day so he could lay attention to you.

a plastic wrapping caught jude’s eyesight after an hour passed. you still hadn’t come up and he was afraid you wouldn’t because of how he acted. he was overreacting he knew it, but also he felt disappointed and upset at the fact you clearly forgot to tell him about your plans till last minute.

“what the?” jude asked himself as he approached the wrapping. he uncovered it being faced with a cartoon drawing similar to those they did at fair of the two of you. next to it was a small minion holding a small box of box of hershey kisses and a hand written note by you.

ilysm my little minion (jude) 🖤

- y/n 💋

he laughed feeling the guilt in his chest as he stared at the three pieces you got him yesterday while you were out. you always thought of him, like jude always thought about you. he grabbed the three items and headed downstairs where he saw you watching a movie, covered with a knitted blanket and laying on your side.

you yawned slowly drifting in and out of sleep, your body feeling as it sinked into the couch and would never come back up. you listened to jude as he paced around, your heart racing when he began approaching you. you continued to stare out into the tv, tears brimming your eyes again as you felt the need to apologize.

jude sat by your legs, looking directly at you not being able to hold it in any longer, “y/n? don’t cry baby…” jude said gently grabbing your arm and helping you pull yourself up into his arms. you let out struggles of scattered breaths and sobs, holding him tightly against your front and on his lap.

jude ran his hand on your back, soothing your choked sobs and whines. “i’m sorry y/n, i was being immature and a jerk when you didn’t deserve it. you made a mistake and i had no right to push and ignore you like i did,” jude apologized first pulling you back so he could wipe away the tears.

“part of me was hurt because i wanted to spend time you and you weren’t here. and you had advised me last minute you were going out. you always tell me a day, a week even a month in advance when you go out, i don’t know why i thought negative thoughts…” jude continued, kiss your hand and rubbing your cheek in comfort.

he watched you finally relax into his embrace, eyes closed and wet due to the tears, lips slightly plump and swollen from crying. “i saw your gift,” jude says happily, watching your glossy eyes lift up as you gave him a small smile. “where should we hang it up?”

“anywhere you want,” you say shrugging still trying to wrap your head if he actually stopped ignoring you. “y/n? you know i love you so much too right? i didn’t ever mean to make you cry, princess…” jude frowned pulling you down to him once again.

“but you did jude. i was so scared and nervous you wouldn’t talk to me because of that! you didn’t say goodbye nor a thanks, i called and you wouldn’t answer, texts straight to read! i was worried sick you wouldnt check in at all!”

jude heard you muffled out, feeling you hold him like you wanted and craved last night. jude peppered kisses onto your collarbone, “forgive me baby. i won’t ever do that again,” jude say between kisses. “ever ever ever again jude… we talk it out that’s how’s things work, okay jude?”

“and i’m sorry too. my head went to a different mind place and idk why i told you last minute when i had know the day before. i’ve been busy with the upcoming charity project it went through my head,” you apologized as well, holding his face between your hands as you placed small kisses on his cheeks, nose and temple. anywhere you had access to, feeling him smile and tug you closer to him.

“and i love you.”

“i know baby, i know. i also saw it on the note next to the minion holding the chocolates,” jude laughed making you giggle loud. “he kinda looked like you,” you joked hearing a small gasp come from jude’s mouth. “take it back!” jude says putting your against the couch and tickling your sides and neck. “never!”

“okay okay i take it back,” you say out of breath after laugh uncontrollably. jude and you never fought or argued, so holding him like this after not being able to felt like a reward. your leaned up and kissed him, sighed in delight as you felt the familiar plump lips with yours. “do i actually look like a minion,” jude said nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“yes yes you do…”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Christmas Shana! May I ask for some Merlin and Arthur? Maybe the time travel Ygraine one, or something else entirely 🎁🎄🎅🏻

Queen Ygraine is cursed to die during childbirth and the baby is stolen from his very crib that same night.

Uther rages. The grief and the fury of losing them both leave him a broken man and a broken king. The grounds of Camelot turn to mud with all the blood he's spilled and the air turns grey and harsh from the burnings. He sends knights to every corner of his kingdom, but his son remains missing, not even a body to be found.

Tristan and Agravaine de Bois send letters, blaming Uther for their sister and nephew's death and proclaiming they are subjects of Uther's no more. It's a blip in torrent of grief - Uther can't even pretend to mourn the loss of his brothers in law in the face of that of his wife and son.

"I still think we should have killed him," Tristan says, watching the servants pack up the contents of their manor with a scowl.

"He would have killed you and then I'd be stuck doing this alone," Agravaine replies, a blond, blue eyed infant in his arms. "So our revenge will have to wait."

"Alone?" Nimueh scoffs. "Thanks. Is this not revenge enough?"

Tristan softens, reaching out to brush the back of his index finger against Arthur's chubby cheek. "He's not revenge. He's our nephew."

Agravaine briefly tightens his hold on the babe before relaxing. "Where are we going? I suppose Mercia is the obvious choice."

"That old man won't be able to help gloating to Uther and we don't want him giving us a second glance," Tristan says. "Cendred's kingdom is a better choice, I think. That's our where our grandfather's castle is anyway."

The two of them plus a sorceress should be more than compelling enough additions to his court for Cendred to relinquish it back to them. Or at least turn a blind eye when they take it back themselves.

~

Merlin is fourteen and standing by his mother's side, keeping his head down and not moving or thinking or looking or anything as the lords come to collect taxes.

No matter what they say, no matter what they do, he's not to move.

There's cries of pain from the smith as one of the lords kicks him down, shouting at him for how little they have. He's the most educated man in the village, he's the one that keeps track. He's the one that warns them how short they are.

They are especially short this year.

There's the sound of sword being unsheathed and Merlin resists the urge to bury his head in his mother's shoulder. He's not suppsosed to move.

"Oh, for goddess's sake," a new, young voice says. He doesn't sound that much older than Merlin. "This is a waste of time. If you cut off his head, will gold coins fall out?"

"We're here to collect taxes!" he insists.

The young lord scoffs. "And if we were sent to squeeze blood from a stone, how long would you spend with your hands pressing into bedrock? Look at them!"

"We can't just let them get away with it," he argues. "If you're father hears about this-"

"He'll hear about it because I'll tell him myself," he says, annoyed. "We could take everything they have and we'll still lose money when they starve to death and we have to send people to bury the bodies or risk disease settling in. The wages for those soldiers will cost far more than everything this little village has to offer."

"They're on our land, they pay the tax!"

The young lord's voice goes hard. "I think you'll see that they're on my father's land and it's ultimately his responsibility to collect taxes for the king. Which means this is decision, not yours."

"Yes, and he decided that-"

"Well I'm deciding differently and he can yell at me about it then!" he snaps. "Put your sword away before I draw mine."

There's a tense, heavy silence. Then there's the sound of a sword going back in its sheathe and, "Yes, Lord de Bois."

Lord de Bois sighs and then raises his voice so his voice carries travels to everyone standing there, to the whole village standing there and waiting. "I'll return within the week. If there's any sort of bookkeeping you have, gather it for me."

"Y-yes, my lord," the blacksmith stutters.

There's the sound of footsteps then hooves.

He lifts his head and only sees the back of the young Lord de Bois's blond head.

Merlin wonders if when he returns, he'll be allowed to look.

[ervotica]

Ik this isn’t part of the prompt but can u plz do a eclipse Jasper x human reader whenever she can feel her anxiety worsen or even a panic attack about to start Jasper uses his ability to calm her down (since he can manipulate emotions/moods) and he usually does it by talking to her and kissing her gently🥹😭

summary; jasper eases your anxiety and kisses away all your worries.

warnings; fem!reader, reader w anxiety, soft, soft!jasper, jasper uses his gift on reader but it’s sweet, pure fluff! no use of y/n

Jasper's rasping Southern lilt pulls you out of your haze; he can feel the rushing thrum of your pulse beneath your skin, the way you tense and burrow further into the comfort of the blanket that’s loosely draped over your shoulders. You're vacant, eyes glassy and unfocused despite the lively chatter of the Cullen house, the raucous booming of Emmett’s voice and Rosalie’s quiet scolding that follows as the rest of the family talk animatedly. This upcoming fight has everyone on edge and it’s evident in your stance, the way you curl up small on the couch and wring your fingers until they flush ruby.

"Hey, sugar," Jasper murmurs, a finger hooking over your cheek to draw your gaze to his own. It's a miracle he can stand to be so close to you now, almost desensitised to your scent, the warmth of your touch, the ravenous hunger that claws at his throat when you're close. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, carving lines into the soft skin when your eyes meet his.

"Hey, Jas."

His icy lips are on your cheek and you soak up his touch, resisting the urge to lean into it as you really want to, still cautious of overwhelming him. The sense of calm that washes over you feels artificial, the only indicator that the feeling isn’t quite your own, but rather the emotion that Jasper is weaving into your frazzled nerves as the anxiety untangles like yarn and dissipates. The crushing thunderstorm is reduced to small, sweeping waves that lap at the corners of your mind but no longer engulf it.

You accept the feeling regardless of its origin, your muscles uncoiling as Jasper strokes slow lines over your cheekbone. Your eyes track the swish of his blond tresses when his head dips further, the bridge of his nose pressed to your cheek, and one golden eye that watches you right back.

His mouth ventures to the corner of your lips and you feel the imprint of his smile as you giggle and your features scrunch with unbridled adoration. It’s a rare display of such emboldened affection from him and you’ll be damned if you don’t wring him for every ounce whilst he’s willing to offer it.

All background noise melts away when he catches your lips between his own. You gasp a sweet little noise into his mouth and he swallows it greedily; the feel of his cold fingers on your cheek brands you, leaving a lasting tingle that reminds you that you’re his and his only. He nips at your bottom lip, the ghost of a laugh echoing against your mouth when you whine and cant your body towards his, wanting, needing, to be close. His forehead stays anchored to your own when he draws himself away.

"You’re beautiful," he murmurs. "My beautiful girl."

The cadence of his voice alone is enough to have you going soft and pliant in his grasp, tired eyes watching his every move as he nudges your chin upwards and presses another gentle peck to your mouth.

"Everything’s gonna be jus’ fine, okay?" he coos, gathering you up and into his arms in a way that has you biting your lip to suppress a whimper. "And then we’ll have forever, my darlin’."

"You promise?" He almost laughs at your question, but he hears the warble in your voice, feels the tightening of your fingers against the sleeve of his shirt, and he knows you need the reassurance. Something white-hot lights in his chest, fondness and something deep and primal all mixed into one— the urge to protect you always, no matter the cost, even if the world burns to ashes. He’ll protect you always.

"I promise." He sits back until you’re tucked beneath his arm, pushing stray curls out of your face as you nestle into the crook of his armpit. "Why don’t you sleep for a little while? You need it."

Suddenly the ruckus of the Cullen house dulls in your ears, your only focus on the blond you’re tucked against, his fingers curling around the blanket to pull it flush to your frame. The last thing you register is his arms tightening around you as you doze, and an arm hiking you into his lap when you go limp against him.

[ddejavvu]

pairing: anakin skywalker x reader

summary: you think anakin's scar is sexy // based on this post and the line, "during heated moments of course, when you dig your nails into his face as he prompts you to 'give me another one, baby. cut me open, make me bleed.'"

cw: smut, minors dni. blood/gore (she scratches him and draws blood), don't like don't read.

Sex with Anakin is a bloody thing; the rush of it through your ears and the tang of it on your tongue as your spit runs hot. Though it mainly stays beneath your skin, rising to the surface to splotch you purple here and there, it occasionally surfaces due to the harsh bite of Anakin's teeth.

He's latched onto your shoulder now, some base instinct he doesn't bother to combat. He grunts against your skin as he ruts into you, teeth digging sharply into your skin. He hasn't broken it, but he will if he clamps down harder, and there's no telling what he'll do.

"Fuck, Anakin," You wince at the pain that's boiling your blood, sending shockwaves of its heat to your core, "Be- be careful, you're gonna leave a- mm! - a scar."

He exhales through his nose; you feel the breath against your shoulder.

His pace doesn't slow, but his teeth unlatch from your shoulder, leaving strings of spit behind, and his lips press there lazily.

"You and scars," He hums thoughtfully, almost amusedly, "You fuckin' love 'em, don't you?"

"Hm?" Is all you can manage as Anakin latches to your jaw now, his lip a tight, sucking ring.

"You love my fucking scar," He accuses, licking a hot stripe of saliva up your jawline and over your cheek. It puts the aforementioned scar in your view, and you admire the way it cuts jaggedly close to his eye.

He's right; it's hot.

"I do," You breathe, really more of a moan as Anakin's dick prods deep into your sensitive cunt, "I- It's so pretty, Ani."

"Yeah?" He asks, breath hitting your face, "Give me another one, then."

"What?"

"Give me another one," He repeats, breaking the bruising seal that his hand has had over your hip since he'd first laid over you. He lifts his hand to take your own, bringing it up to his face and setting it over his eye. Your nails rest gently against his tan skin, and his breath shudders when he exhales over your mouth.

"Dig your fucking nails into me, baby. Give me another scar- cut me open and make me fucking bleed."

"Anakin!" You protest, momentarily horrified, "I- I can't do that! I can't hurt you!"

"You can," He urges- no, begs, his hips snapping faster and faster into yours as he smashes your hand to his face, feeling the bite of your nails, "Do it, baby, fucking- fucking do it, give me another scar!"

"Anakin-"

"Do it!"

You let the heat of the moment seize you, and, though all five of your nails dig into his skin, one breaks through. You scrape your middle finger so harshly against his eyebrow that it draws blood, a crimson streak that lays lopsided and not quite parallel against his now-healed scar.

The burning pain that accompanies your nail's sharp edge is enough to push Anakin over the edge, and you feel yourself succumbing to your own orgasm as he begins to fuck his way through his inside of your spasming cunt. When the height of it takes him he nudges your hand out of the way and rubs his face against yours, leaving you with a gory smear of blood against your own eyebrow.

Something about it makes you sob; not sadness or anger, but perhaps sheer viscerality. Anakin's blood on your face feels cosmically binding, wrought from the edge of your nail at his heated insistence. He feels the shake of your chest as he collapses above you, his dick still inside of you though it softens now that he's spent.

"Shit," Is all he can offer, and you agree.

"Does it hurt?" You ask curiously, knowing that an apology will be dismissed; he'd begged for it, after all.

"A bit," He shrugs, eyes shut despite the crimson stain just left of them, "I've had worse."

"It'll scar," You note, perhaps stating the obvious but acknowledging it now for the first time.

"Yeah. Now I've got double the sex appeal," Anakin nods absentmindedly against your chest, more focused on regaining his breath, "And every time you see it you'll think of how you gave it to me."

[oncasette]

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb + 𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔

ok theseus request!!!!! what about some hurt/comfort, maybe him reacting to you crying? + [ CUP ]:  bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face. (I feel like this prompt fits the scenario perfectly so yeah <3)

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥

summary: 1.7k

It’d been all his stupid idea, one you vehemently wanted to run away from. One that struck fear up your spine like lightning and sent fire licking at the base of your skull. An idea that, now, led you to be standing outside his old flat’s front door with ice-cold rain sticking your clothes to your skin and hot tears streaming down your cheeks hours after he’d left you reeling in your own flat. 

or the three times theseus asked you to move in with him and the one time you asked.

warnings: implied smut

masterlist | taglist

Moving in with Theseus hadn’t been your idea. It’d been his. Totally, completely, and unarguably his idea. One he’d spent weeks, at this point, convincing you to go through with. An idea you’d initially been so adamant about turning down. But he was nothing if not persistent. 

He’d presented you with a key the first night he’d asked. Just a key, warm from where he’d kept it in his coat pocket pressed tight against his chest over the course of his work day. He’d dug it out of the jacket that had been hastily tossed off to the floor near the side of the bed when you’d nearly jumped his bones after he’d apparated back to his flat. You’d already been home–his home, that is–snuggled up in his bed with a cup of tea and a sleep shirt he’d had since his seventh year. 

“What’s this?” you asked as he’d handed it to you. His hands shook, and he’d been grateful you failed to make a comment on it. 

“A key,” he hummed as you took it. 

“But… Thes, I already have a key to your place?” Your eyebrows knitted across your forehead as your statement quirked into a question. 

“I know,” he said. “My lease comes up in a month and I…”

You brought a hand up to the side of his jaw, urging him to continue as his lips pressed kisses to your palm. 

“I know yours does, too. A week after mine, but I was hoping you’d think about letting it.”

It’s a wonder it hadn’t clicked for you yet. His beautiful, bright girl that amazed him every day, who was making him spell out this question for her, letter by letter, while his heart threatened to give out in his chest. 

“Letting it do what?” you asked. 

“Run out,” he exhaled. Merlin, his lungs felt heavy. 

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” you asked, hand dropping to your side as you sat up fully. You brought the top sheet with you, covering the skin Theseus had spent the last hour and a half marking with his teeth. His eyes burned as he followed your movement and leaned his back against the headboard. 

“I’d been trying to, yes,” he said. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little… I don’t know,” you swallowed, throat dry with a lack of an answer. “Fast?”

“Love, we’ve been together for nearly two years. I thought–”

He’d been cut off with your legs being thrown over the edge of the bed, feet scrambling to hold your body up as your hands reached for the clothes you’d been wearing earlier in the evening. 

“I can’t.” With your eyes screwed shut, you tugged your slip back up over your body and crossed the room to grab the shirt you’d come to his flat in–not the one of his you’d been wearing when he’d come home, a sight that has his jaw aching. It’d taken you a minute longer to find your wand, white knuckling it as you pressed a kiss to your boyfriend’s hairline. You were gone within the minute, with the key left at the foot of the bed.

He hadn’t even had the chance to move from the spot you’d left him in. 

He’d left it alone enough after that, though his heart had ached each time his hand passed over the weight of the key he still kept in his pocket. 

The second time he’d asked–more insinuated, this time–had been at breakfast two weeks later, thankfully, in a less vulnerable state of dress. 

“I saw the flat yesterday,” he said, though his eyebrows were raised with the hint that there was more lingering under that statement than you’d wanted. “Unfurnished, that is. I saw it a couple weeks ago when I bought it and everything, but I saw it for the first time since I’d signed the lease on it yesterday.”

“Theseus.”

“Look, I know. I know.” He drew his fist tight as he inhaled. “I know you think it’s too fast, darling.”

“Then why are you doing this?” you asked. 

You weren’t even sure why you were fighting it this hard at this point anymore. It was all you’d thought about since he’d asked the first time. And you weren’t going to lie, you’d warmed to the idea. Not that you were ready to admit that, apparently.

He brought your hand up to gently lay kisses on your knuckles. “Just come see it with me, yeah?”

You offered him a pointed look. “Don’t have to make any snap decisions,” he assured you. “Even though I’m desperately hoping that you will.”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?”

“I’ll go look at the flat with you,” you said. 

He’d been so eager, the smile he’d given you had been enough to allow him to convince you to stop by the next morning. 

It was a lovely flat, honestly. It had a kitchen large enough to house an island, a bedroom much bigger than you’d been anticipating, and a view that had you fully leaning out the window to get a better look at. And, it was a five minute walk away from your office. A fact Theseus had mentioned thirty seconds into your initial walkthrough. A walkthrough that had unsurprisingly consisted of all the reasons Theseus had picked the place. Or, better worded, all the reasons Theseus thought the place would be a perfect fit for you. For the both of you. 

“The living room’s the perfect size for your couch, you know. I was thinking you’d want to bring it along if you ever ended up here since you spent so long picking it out and everything…”

“Thes, it’s beautiful. It really is,” you said, stepping closer to him as you watched the corners of his lips twitch into a grin. 

He fully bridged the gap then, hands falling to your hips to tug you into his chest. “So?”

“I’ll think about it,” you hummed and he leaned down to kiss you fully. 

“Improvement,” he said. “I’ll take it.”

The next couple days had been a constant barrage of dropped hints. It felt like you’d been suffocated beneath the weight of the question, one that hadn’t been asked in its entirety since that first night. 

He’d been halfway through one of his… less subtle hints when you snapped. All you’d wanted was time. A bit of time. A tiny, miniature, speck of time to organize your thoughts, and he’d given you just short of what you’d needed. 

The key had been dangling from his fingers, for Merlin’s sake, and it took all the strength in your body not to snatch it out of his hands and throw it out the window of your own flat, the one the two of you were currently curled up in. 

“Stop it!” you spat. “I said I would think about it, right. I can’t think about anything with the way you’re keeping this up.”

He stalled, fingers wrapping around the gold key to hide it from view. His jaw snapped closed as your own clenched. 

“I’m sorry, I just…” you sighed. 

“No, I get it. I’ll give you some more time,” he said, a crack of thunder in the distance rumbling overhead as you watched him pull away from you to gather the few belongings he’d brought with him. 

He left with little more than a muttered goodbye as he slipped out the door. Not even a kiss, one you’d been hopeful enough to think would come despite your current situation. 

It’d been all his stupid idea, one you vehemently wanted to run away from. One that struck fear up your spine like lightning and sent fire licking at the base of your skull. An idea that, now, led you to be standing outside his old flat’s front door with ice-cold rain sticking your clothes to your skin and hot tears streaming down your cheeks hours after he’d left you reeling in your own flat. 

You knock on the door with feeble fingers, toes curling in your shoes as your socks meld to the skin of your feet. You wait a minute. Two minutes, nearly three before he throws open the door with only a pair of trousers on. 

“What are you-” he cuts himself off. “My love, are you crying?”

You barely manage out a shake of your head, a piss poor attempt at a lie, as a shiver rumbles through your torso. 

“Come here, come inside,” he steps aside enough to let you in. He shuts the door once you’re inside, immediately tugging you into his chest where the warmth of his skin does wonders to calm the tremors wracking through you. Both of his hands come up to cup your cheeks, drawing your face into his direct gaze no matter how much you want to shove your nose into his neck and hide from his worrying eyes. 

“What is it, darling?” His eyes scan your face as his hands hold the weight of your head up under your jaw. His thumb clears a tear off your cheek before it has the chance to fall. “C’mon, love. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please let me live with you,” you sniffle, hands coming up to grasp at the waistband of his pants. The way you’re clinging to him feels desperate, like he’d slip away if you managed to let go. 

“What?”

“I’m so sorry I let it go on this long. I’m sorry I ever made you think I don’t want this, want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you sob. “Please let me live with you.”

“I thought you wanted-”

“I thought I did, too,” you hiccup, and Theseus has to fight to hide the smile that’s working its way up his face. “But, then I realized what I really wanted was you. This. All of you.”

“You have me. You’ve always had me darling, promise,” he says. “And obviously I want you to live with me… but are you sure?”

You nod. 

“I need to hear you say it, lovely. You’ve kind of been fighting me on this since day one,” he says. “I’m sure,” you say. 

[shadowdaddies]

Could you write some A/B/O smut for the batboys (x reader or just among themselves)

I love how much you write in response to recs so I’m super excited xx love your writing style so much

hi! thank you so much for the kind words💜 I thought about just doing the batboys but tbh I'm not sure what their dynamic would be so I went with batboys alphas and omega reader. I tried to do my research on this, so I'm sorry if this isn't really accurate to the omegaverse but I hope you enjoy it💜

Spontaneity

poly!batboys x f!reader omegaverse AU

WARNINGS: smut, truly this is pwp, a/b/o dynamics, oral m!receiving, p in v sex, anal sex, dp, breeding kink obvi, minors dni, not proofread

Your boots crunched against the white snow, pressing it down as you walked down a street in Windhaven with Emerie. The small talk you were holding with your friend was quickly interrupted when the heads of nearly every male on the street turned towards you, nostrils flaring as they tracked you with predatory gazes.

You and Emerie both clocked their looks instantly, realization dawning as you began to feel the symptoms of spontaneous heat. Your scent was growing stronger by the minute, the sweet pheromones drawing every beta in the camp towards your path. 

You knew there was limited time for you to reach your nest before your desire turned blinding, turning to Emerie as you frantically explained the plan. 

“I need you to get a healer until my mates can get here. Send them to the cabin, please,” you pleaded, anxiously backing away as you prepared to run for it. Emerie nodded, turning back as she went in search of your alphas’ healer, Madja. 

Fleeing through the snow, you fought the urges threatening to take over as your body’s cravings intensified. You managed to stumble through the door to the warded cabin, calling out helplessly to the empty home as your vision blurred. 

Your clothes were too restrictive, burning hot against your skin as you clawed desperately to remove them. You shed your coat, untying your boots as you scrambled up the staircase to your nested bedroom. 

The moment you opened the door, the lingering scents of your alphas greeted you, slick already dripping down your legs as you moaned at the smell. Crawling over the edge of the mattress, your head fell back against the pillows as you struggled to get your pants down. 

A plea echoed in your mind - relief, relief, relief - as you shimmied your pants down to your ankles. A scream of frustration left your lips as you brought your fingers to your clit, the wetness pooling between your legs uncomfortable. Rubbing your clit was getting you nowhere - you needed to be filled, needed a healer, an alpha, anything. 

Your frustrated cries drowned out the sound of the door opening, your small fingers curled inside of you doing little to ease the desire burning within. 

“Fuck, baby,” Rhys breathed, violet eyes wide as he took in the sight of you, sprawled and sweating on the bed. 

“Rhys, Alpha, please. I need a heat suppress... A healer. Emerie-“ you fumbled for the words, unable to even ask for what you needed to take the edge off as tears welled in your eyes. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay sweet girl. I’m here to take care of you. What do you want, little one?” Rhys cooed, eyes filled with adoration as his fingers gripped your chin, directing your focus to him.

Your tongue instinctively darted out, licking his thumb in silent request. He growled, slipping the digit into your mouth as you mewled, sucking as you stared at him with wide eyes. 

“I need you inside of me,” you mumbled around his finger. Your words weren’t clear, but your alpha knew exactly what you needed as his clothes were spirited away. The sound of his hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen drew a pathetic mewl from you, slick somehow building further as you struggled for breath.

Rhys pulled his thumb from your mouth, circling around to the edge of the bed, where your ankles were still trapped in the confines of your pants. Instead of undressing you, Rhys gripped your ankles, pulling them over his head as he locked himself within your legs. A guttural groan escaped him, eyes rolling back as your scent filled his senses. 

“Rhys, please. I need you now,” you pleaded, tears brimming as you clenched around nothing. Your alpha did not keep you waiting, pulling your hips down to the edge of the bed as he guided his cock inside of you, the both of you releasing lewd moans at the feeling of his swelled cock fully seated. “Move,” you whispered, wriggling as much as you could in his restrictive hold. 

Rhys loved having you at his mercy like this, smugness filling him at being the only alpha here as he drew his hips back, slamming into you. Relief flooded through you, feeling euphoric as your cravings were finally sated. Your head lolled to the side, shifting up and down against the mattress with Rhys’s thrusts as you registered Cassian walking through the door. 

“Oh, my sweet girl. I heard about your heat,” he crooned, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You nodded helplessly, still bouncing on Rhys’s dick as your mouth began to water, your need for Cassian building with each inhale you took of his scent.

Your eyes flicked to his face, Cassian’s hazel eyes watching your mouth fly open in a moan as Rhys hit deep inside of you. “Please, please,” you breathed, hand fumbling in a weak attempt to palm your alpha’s cock through his pants. “I need to suck you,” you begged, earning a moan from both Rhys and Cassian as the latter quickly stripped himself of his clothing.

Cassian climbed to the top of the mattress, legs spreading as his scent filled the air, cock proudly on display. Rhys flipped you over, your ass in the air as he shoved your pants the rest of the way off. Practically drooling, you leaned down and took Cassian in your mouth, moaning at the taste of his precum on your lips as you looked at him through your lashes.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he praised, his words spurring you on as you took him as deep as you could. Rhys thrust back inside of you without warning, eliciting a muffled scream as you gagged around Cassian’s cock. His hand found your hair, wrapping it around his wrist as you bounced like a rag doll between him and Rhys.

“Fuck,” Rhys murmured, landing a smack to your ass as his knot grew inside of you, locking you in place as you felt his warm seed fill you up. Cassian groaned as he watched your face, your jaw going slack around him as you reveled in the feeling of Rhys’s release. 

“Gods, I’m going-“ Cassian pulled away just in time, his knot shrinking back as he held your mouth away from him. Rhys pulled out, long fingers pushing his cum back inside of you, a moan leaving him at the sight. 

“Where- where is Az?” You breathed, suddenly feeling the intensity of your heat at the realization of your missing alpha. Cassian and Rhys exchanged a quick glance before you heard movement downstairs, boots thudding against the wood before Azriel appeared in the doorway, sweat dripping from his brow.

“I was in Velaris. I’m here now baby, I’ve got you,” he cooed, leaning down to bring you in for a searing kiss. “What do you want from me, sweet girl?”

“I need you both. Now,” you commanded breathlessly, looking between him and Cassian. With a nod, Azriel removed his clothing, Rhys gently flipping you back on your back where Cassian pulled you against his chest. His cock brushed against your core, collecting the mix of your slick and Rhys’s cum as he lined himself up with your rear entrance.

With a nod from you, Cassian pushed inside, his large cock stretching your asshole deliciously. A mewl escaped you as you felt Azriel’s hand on your clit, thumb rubbing circles as he teased. 

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good for us,” Rhys murmured, settling next to you on the bed as he peppered kisses down your neck and chest. He smiled with pride when your jaw dropped, the sensation of Azriel pushing into your cunt, rubbing against Cassian’s cock through your thin walls almost too much for you.

Vision fading in and out, you heard vague and muffled praises as Cassian and Azriel took alternating thrusts inside of you, Rhys’s hands and mouth licking and tugging your nipples as every part of your body was stimulated.

With a scream, you clawed at the sheets as Cassian’s knot swelled inside of you, his release warm in your ass as Azriel continued pounding into you. Someone’s fingers found your clit, a chuckle sounding in your ear as you whimpered at the overstimulation. 

Your mind reeled as what might have been another orgasm crashed through you, the constant intense pleasure too much for you to register as you felt Azriel’s knot grow inside of you. Cassian leaned down to press kisses on your shoulder, Rhys continuing his words of praise as your final alpha’s seed filled you. 

The heat which had consumed you now faded away, deep contentment and sleepiness overwhelming your senses as you struggled to stay awake. You were vaguely aware of Azriel crawling up the bed, several sets of hands wrapping around your waist as you laid back against a muscled chest. 

“Sleep, little one. We’ll be here,” Rhys murmured in your ear as you drifted off, deeply sated and peaceful in your mates’ arms.

[theinnerunderrain]

Desires [Yan!Wishing Star x Fem!Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, description of abuse and reader being in pain (burning), fear, slight description of body parts, implied murder. can you believe the inspiration for this is the star from that Disney movie wish...

+

"It's not fair."

The entity standing in front of you,murmured gently, his hand clenching tightly as his eyes grew stern, echoing the firmness in his tone. In the velvety expanse where night unfolds its cosmic tapestry, a solitary wanderer emerges — the wishing star. A fleeting celestial voyager, trailing stardust whispers across the ink-black canvas, igniting the dreams of earthly dreamers. The celestial glow of the moonlit sky tenderly embraced his form, casting a delicate shimmer upon his blond locks, revealing a subtle stain on his pristine white blouse, obscured yet perceptible in the soft illumination.

"I've heard of your heart's desire," The wishing star advanced toward you with measured grace, coaxing a subtle retreat from your stance as you hesitantly took a step backward.

"I worked so hard to grant your wishes."

He persisted, the palpable frustration resonating through his typically captivating voice. Bathed in the gentle moonlight, it cast an ethereal glow upon his figure. Drawing nearer, the blemishes on his shirt became increasingly conspicuous—a flickering, profound crimson, accompanied by a faint metallic scent that stirred a disquieting nausea within you.

A startled yelp slips from your lips as you inadvertently tumble over an unseen obstacle, causing you to descend onto a patch of grass with your back pressed against the earth's surface. Your hand makes unexpected contact with something wet and warm. The unmistakable scent of metal permeates the air, urging you to swiftly withdraw your hand from the liquid. It's only then that you come to the chilling realization within the darkness—it's a limb, specifically a recently severed hand, its surface glistening with fresh blood.

Your gaze turns back to the wishing star, now standing just a few feet in front of you. His shadow looms over, imparting an ominous presence, and he appears almost like a fading star, deprived of life and passion, slowly dimming in the celestial tapestry. Trembling with fear, you parted your lips to voice a protest, but no sound emerged, leaving the unspoken plea hanging in the tense air.

As the wishing star resumed speaking, its tone softened considerably, a gentle cadence imbuing its voice, which seemed to be nearly carried away by the night's gentle breeze.

"I've done so much for you, for you weak humans. Yet, I've received nothing in return."

Descending onto one knee, he crouched down, his pristine white pants marred by the hues of blood and dirt. Remarkably unfazed, he wore the stains with an air of indifference.

"Tell me, [First Name]. Do you think it's fair?"

You take a moment to contemplate his question, striving to formulate the optimal response that would genuinely satisfy him. However, the awareness lingers that he possesses a keen perception, able to discern any falsehood, as if he has the ability to see through every nuance.

"It's not fair," you stammer, your words echoing through the stillness of the night. The wishing star tilts his head slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

A twisted smile creeps across his lips, and the moonlight casts an eerie gleam in his eyes. "Good answer, my dear [First Name]."

"You're right, it's not fair."

He lingered in a brief pause, his eyes gently closing, as if grappling with thoughts, a silent struggle to restrain any inclination to cause harm.

"So tell me, [First Name]. Do you think I deserve to be compensated for my hard work? Will you be the one to grant my wish?"

His words crashed into you like an oncoming train, resonating through the corridors of your mind as you grapple to unravel their meaning. After a moment of contemplation, you nod hesitantly, yearning for nothing more than the swift conclusion of this situation, eager to retreat to the village with a mind cleansed of the perplexing events of the night.

"Good."

His smile, a deceptive play of pink lips stretched into a wide grin, sent a chill down your spine. Despite its apparent warmth, his eyes held an icy indifference, a contradiction that left an unsettling echo in the air. It was as if his smile danced to a different melody, a tune that aimed to soothe while his gaze remained aloof, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions that begged unraveling. With an unexpected flourish, he delicately pressed a single finger to your forehead. A radiant, golden light emanated from his fingertips, enveloping you in a warmth that seemed to transcend the ordinary. In that moment, an enchanting weight settled upon you, as if the universe itself conspired to make your very essence denser beneath the gentle caress of his touch.

"W...wait..Callisto! What are you—"

As you mustered the courage to protest, his other hand extended, gently caressing your cheek with a touch that felt oddly comforting, as though it were a final offer of solace. The ambient light intensified, casting a surreal brilliance upon the surroundings, rendering the world too bright and eerily silent. Despite the fear coursing through you, there lingered an inexplicable sense of comfort emanating from both the radiant light and the tender graze of his touch. It was a paradoxical dance between apprehension and an oddly soothing presence that left you trapped in a disconcerting embrace of emotions.

In an instant, the beam of light against your forehead erupted, creating a deafening, bell-like resonance that reverberated for meters around. Your body, caught in the chaotic symphony, felt ablaze—no, it was as if fire had ignited everywhere. Desperation urged you to shift away, the searing sensation intensifying, yet his relentless grip forced you down onto the patch of grass. His two hands, like oppressive flames, pressed against you, melding your anguish with the burning world around you.

"No..!"

A piercing scream escapes your lips, the pitch climbing higher as you desperately attempt to roll and extinguish the flames enveloping you. Yet, the ethereal grip of Callisto pins you in place, rendering your frantic movements futile. Frozen in terror, the dance between your desperate cries and the consuming fire unfolds in a macabre symphony orchestrated by the relentless wishing star.

"I'm really sorry, [First Name]. It's going to feel painful at first, but once you wake up again. Everything will be for the better."

Callisto's voice, a haunting melody, softly echoed against the backdrop of your agonizing pleas. As you begged for relief from the erupting fire consuming your very flesh, his gentle tone contrasted with the visceral symphony of pain. With a tenderness that belied the horrors unfolding, his hand reached out, delicately caressing the side of your face, as if soothing the flames that danced upon your skin.

In the twilight of consciousness, as the world dissolved into an inky void and the torment on your body gradually subsided, you felt the celestial presence of the wishing star. One final utterance emerged from the cosmic depths, a whisper that cut through the fading echoes of your suffering, leaving an unsettling imprint on the precipice of darkness.

"As you awaken from your slumber, a transformation awaits you—a rebirth akin to a celestial metamorphosis. You shall emerge not just awakened but as a newfound star, destined to shine eternally in resplendent brilliance, a beacon of enduring beauty that transcends the mere confines of night."

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