#they just didn't show up in hunted because they were just somewhere else-

[adams-angels]

Adam sfw/nsfw hcs? I love your work! Thanks!!

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

SFW

I'm gonna start off strong by saying socks and sandals. Thinks it's great.

Will stop listening when he's losing an argument. Stutters and minces up his words if he gets flustered or too aggravated.

Lute is his best friend

Says he has tons on friend but in reality lute is his only friend

This man thinks he's higher up in the food chain than he actually is. Which then leads to weak apologies from him

Doesn't go anywhere without his mask. Really big believer in that he doesn't like showing his face because both his wife's left him

Still absolutely bitter about that btw

Has an unhealthy coping mechanism when it comes to jealously.

For example, your an angel and some newbie starts talking with you and there's nothing really in it but he opens a portal to hell when your not looking and literally kicks the guy through it before closing the portal.

Or if your a sinner and you're telling him about someone who helped you the other day he will HUNT THEM DOWN next extermination day... If he can wait that long.

Likes getting you lil gifts, key chains, magnets, pins. He'll see a little thing and think that's perfect and wont hesitate buying it for you.

He won't give it to you though. He'll leave it somewhere obvious in his apartment for you to notice and go "oh, that's cute." For him to shrug and say "it's okay. You want it?" It took a while before you actually started accepting gifts this way

In public he will get you the biggest things. Giant teddy bear. New TV. A unicorn. But that's just to show everyone that he spoils you. That no one can treat you as well as him.

Loves lazy days

Also loves it when you preen his wings

Was the kinda guy that didn't have any kind of skin care until he met you and now you're both chilling with facemasks on.

Has panic attacks when he thinks you're going to leave him

When he's not wearing his mask he will not smile. It's really difficult to get him to smile or laugh when he's not wearing a mask.

But he's got the most beautiful smile

You managed you get him to laugh because you fell. What? He's still an asshole.

You couldn't be mad at him. He sounded so happy.

Has dumb pet names for everyone he's close to. Some are cute. Some are absolutely vulger. "Sweetness." "Babe." "Cutie" "cockwarmer." "Adam's dumpster." "Precious."

He's insecure AF baby

Loves hearing you say you love him

Will only tell you he loves you in private.

Would take a very special case for him to say it in public

If you get in a serious argument with him he'll run away in anger. He'll then come back after an hour or so begging you not to leave.

Sorry I really love pathetic Adam. fight me.

Smut below the cut! Minors dni

NSFW

Ik everyone says it's great at sex but I don't think he would be 🤷🏻‍♀️ not at the beginning anyway

I think he's a selfish lover and it takes someone he really cares about to make any changes

Would absolutely finish inside you then fall asleep soz babes

His cock is good tho. Likes it's a biggen. Length and width.

It was probably made to fit perfectly so

At least that's what he says

He won't believe it if you dont orgasm the first time you have sex with him. Everyone else has! Why wouldn't you?!

Well, Adam, they lied, sweetie.

Loves getting his cock sucked.

Asks for it constantly

If he gets in an argument with you he'll probably say "I'm sorry, it's just been so long since I got head."

He loves eating you out. Watching you squirm while his tongue is inside you really gets him going.

Likes you have you sat on his face so he can hold you down

He cried the first time he had sex with you after realising he loves you

Will beg to be loved when he's close to finishing. "Tell me you love me!"

Will get embarrassed after the fact

He was adamant he didn't like you. That you were just hot. But one day found himself jerking to the thought of you and that post nut clarity hit like a freight train.

Loves being praised ofc

Breeding kink. I mean come on. He was made to populate the earth. It was literally his job.

Loves rough sex, being in charge.

Will get possessive during sex

If he's having a bad day he'll be a lot more desperate and a hell of a lot more possessive

"mine" is his favourite word.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[cinamintyy]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a small request? I was thinking of Capitano with an s/o who’s a dragon? Like just a normal dragon that can turn into a human(like Nuvulett<don’t remember how to spell my hydro dragons name) and there the last of there kind?(By that I mean born a dragon and went into hiding because of over hunting also By dragon form look at the dragons from House of the dragon for some inspo) how do you think he’d react to seeing his s/o’s dragon form for the first time and having a flight? Lest not forget to deep snoring…if not that’s alright I just wanted to put this out there.

Capitano has me in a chokehold I swear

Capitano x Dragon reader:

A/N:Sry this is late, but I love this idea sm. I'm just clearing out my inbox for these next days.

CW: Dragon reader, hybrid reader, minor character death.

It was cruel how all of those you knew were taken from you, simply for sport. Killed and taken apart for wings or horns as trophies. You saw all this happening and decided this would not happen to you, so you hid, amongst the humans. You hid any feature that would identify to those hunters you were a dragon, something the rest of your kind couldn't or refused to do. You wouldn't end up hanging on the wall, so you abandoned who you used to be. You didn't have a home, but you eventually decided to settle in Natlan. The pilgrimage wasn't an interest of yours it never was, either way, you weren't from Natlan so you couldn't join. For the stories you told and how wise you were, I mean, you did live a few hundred years. The smaller children especially enjoyed your "made-up" stories of dragons and flying through the sky at extremely high altitudes and speeds. To be fair, your life was going pretty peaceful.

One day, you were at a bar just to get a quick drink when this larger-than-average man who was fully covered in armour sat next to you and ordered a drink. He piqued your curiosity, so you started small talk, but it's safe to say he was a brick wall. You continued to have determination and persisted in talking to him. Capitano was honestly impressed at your persistence and decided to humor you. You both met at the same bar every day to talk. He loved the wise energy you emanated. To be honest, he became smitten, he loved seeking you for advice. But one thing that ate at you was the fact Capitano didn't know the actual you. The fact you were a dragon, the closer you both, the bigger the urge you had to tell him was. You need stress relief and what better way to relieve yourself than to take flight? Just the way you used to, at the very same heights and altitudes. What you didn't know was Capitano knew something was wrong, to him you acted 'odd' and kinda standoffish. He was about to visit you so he could what was up with you when he saw you headed somewhere else. Which just so you know this was at night so it was quite odd, he decided that instead of asking you where you were heading he would just follow you. Secretive? He knew, but what if someone was harming you and you were keeping it secret from him? If it was harmless he would leave knowing you were fine. You decided to take a quick fly around the outskirts of Natlan at night, if any people saw you they would just be seen as having a screw loose. C'mon, this was Natlan, the only place where someone would most likely just see a dragon flying around was Mondstadt. Unbeknownst to you, Capitano saw the whole thing, from you transforming, to you flying, and to you landing back down. You had only realized he saw you afterward. "I apologize, I feel as though I've intruded on you, you've been acting quite odd as of late, and I thought I should follow you to make sure no one was hurting you. I truly apologize I was too forward in my actions." He said to you bowing slightly to show how apologetic he was. You cursed yourself for being so careless silently before replying. "It's alright you had good intentions, either way, you were going to find out one way or another. I am, as you can see, a dragon." Capitano stared in silence before finding his words "A beautiful one I might add, I quite enjoyed seeing you soar through the air." You blushed at the words, "So you're not angry that I've kept such a secret from you?" You asked. "Goodness no, it's understandable why one would keep such a thing, but I'm glad I now know." You let out a sigh of relief at his words. "Perhaps one day you should take me out flying, I think I'd enjoy it." He said proposing an idea for a next date.

Perhaps you would take him outside flying, you think you would enjoy it as well.

[simpjaes]

how about jealousbf!heeseung who takes you to the empty soundproof vocal rooms and stuffs you full with no mercy after you looked at jay a little too much while they were doing their dance practice

tags: front man heeseung, wannabe groupie reader, he's not her bf !! non idol au, they're just in a band !!

wc: 1k

looking at jay was never an issue until heeseung was looking at you.

who would blame you though? it's not your fault Sunghoon always brought you to band practices. it's not your fault that Heeseung never really paid attention to you before they managed to finesse their way onto a label.

then again, it's not like you knew that Heeseung was always looking. You always seemed to share a gaze between him and everyone else too, so it wasn't really a competitive thing until he noticed you consistently looking at jay more and more.

Hah, always the fucking guitar players too. What do they have that he doesn't? Aside from skilled fingers?

Arguably, Heeseung's fingers are quite skilled too. Just because he's the front man doesn't mean he can't fuck like a guitarist.

So, well, it all really started when you didn't show up. It's rare that you don't, honestly, and all the members seem to miss you when you're not there but man.

Jay sure is a fucking asshole.

"I think she wants me." He joked that one day, nudging Sunghoon and watching them both nod in confirmation that yeah, it's probably true.

"I could take her into one of the soundproof rooms, none of you would even know." he said on that same day, giving Heeseung the idea to do it first.

After all, it's not like he hasn't seen you disappear into sticky bathrooms or dingy band van's at several small town shows with other bands and their members. Why would he be any different? Why would Jay be any different?

Exactly. You're a wannabe groupie and Heeseung is far too willing to feed into your fantasy of fucking a rock star now rather than later.

Jay likes the chase. Heeseung likes the hunt.

And so, that next "practice?" Of course you showed up. Bright eyes, slutty outfit, doe eyes blinking in awe at a bunch of guys who haven't even debuted past a burned CD with shit sound quality? Heeseung approaches you.

Being the front man and all, it's not hard to get you alone as the members take their time doing their own work on the new song. Heeseung's vocals were all finished, and Jay was too wrapped up in his guitar solo recording to notice you eye fucking him again.

"Welcome back, we missed you last time." Heeseung starts in a sweet voice, opening his arms out for a hug.

You kind of quirk your brow at him because, well, you've known the dude for like two years by this point but never has he done more than an awkward side hug while covered in sweat and the scent of musk and alcohol after a show or a hard practice session.

"Oh?" You question, surprised by the grip he holds on you.

"Wanna come with me somewhere?" He asks again, even though the question felt more like a demand in the way he immediately starts dragging you away from the recording studio and into the hallway.

You don't really say much, being more of a go-with-the-flow person than anything. You just shrug, following him into what you obviously know is one of the sound proof rooms they've used previously to practice the noise music.

Working out the kinks of a song doesn't always sound so good, yknow? Nobody really wants to hear that shit til it's ready either.

And it's not like you're stupid or anything. You know what this is, when he steps inside and closes the door behind you. In fact, you're entirely down for it despite not really knowing why the band's front man suddenly wants to be alone with you.

"Hah," Heeseung smirks, watching you already start to slip your shirt off. "I knew it."

You just kind of look at him.

"Well, what else would I expect after being dragged in here?" You ask, pausing your movements and allowing your shirt to fall back into place against your waist.

"I don't know?" He laughs back, rolling his eyes at you briefly before boxing you up against the wall. "Jay?"

You smirk.

"Honestly? Yeah. We've been eye fucking each other for ages." You laugh, brushing Jay off entirely. "Didn't expect you to be the one to come after me."

"Well, if you would have stopped staring at his fingers for thirty seconds maybe you would have noticed it."

"What can I say? He moves fast."

"And you think I would? You've seen what I can do with my tongue, right?"

You pause, noting all those instances during shows where he definitely treated his tongue like some sort of mating ritual. Licking up his microphone, flicking it between his fingers, even going as far as flattening it at multiple city girls that seemed to want a bad boy for the night.

"Don't think I have, actually." You roll your eyes playfully, blinking at him innocently. "Care to elaborate?"

Man, he elaborated.

Without another word, actually. Which was a bit of a shock to you, considering he likes to rasp those vocals all night through song and shrieks. Ah, the sounds are so much different vibrating when his tongue is buried into you, moving faster than you'd have expected.

What's worse? You never really noticed how pretty his vocals could sound until he was muttering out words of degradation towards you. He went in raw, explaining that it's his right. That he should be the first to feel your pussy squeeze him dry. Whispers questions of how many other men have been in you like this. Asking if you've always been this breathless for them. Asking why you're not screaming loud enough for Jay to hear, even through the soundproof room.

In reality, your throat is dry from allowing yourself to be loud for him. Rasping and panting confirmations of his filthy words, only to feel him plunge into you harder, harder, harder. Like a mantra of a song he only wishes he could write.

The proof of having you before Jay could, the proof of fucking you better than anyone else could.

By the end of it all, to Heeseung? Doesn't really matter if every other member of his band has a turn with you know. He's only gonna ask what his dick tastes like. He's only gonna ask if they fucked you cross eyed too. Because he knows the answer will be no.

Why?

Because you keep coming back for more. Up until Jay takes note, mentioning a month later to Sunghoon, right there in front of everyone,

"What's gotten into her? She practically ignores me."

And of course Heeseung smirked, giving him the answer he probably didn't want to hear.

"Me."

[r0-boat]

Hello there (general kenobi)

SO! I was wondering if i could request the kings reacting to Kings, MC having mental breakdown or like crying all alone somewhere but suddenly hide it (at least try to) when they discover the crying

I just had a good cry so i got curious later to how they would React

Thank you! Luv u ! And love your writing! 💕😍😍

Whb Kings reaction to:

Mc having a mental breakdown and crying

Cw: angst, hurt/comfort

Intro

The memories of Gabriel killing your best friend playing your head You had been so strong up to this moment... Why... Why now?

Nonetheless seeing a murder in front of you would be hard on any human especially one who had lost their parents in a homicide.

You try to tell yourself that he's okay and you will be okay. But it's hard to believe when the same angel is hunting you down and his mark shows crystal clear on your skin, a mark you try desperately to wash off. Soon everything came crashing down being being ripped from your home to an unfamiliar place the smell of blood and bodies angel and devil on the streets of Gehenna. You locked yourself into your room unable to hold back your emotion.

Satan

He practically ripped the door off its hinges. Even though you have the door locked he can sense you are in distress locked door or not you are in danger and he is not going to let it stop him.

You weren't in danger no angel has broken in, You are not hurt You are not bleeding but you still cry, scooping you into his arms It doesn't matter what you were crying about You are still crying, You are still hurting, And he will cradle you into his arms until those tears dry. Put the soft voice he'll ask you what's wrong He knows he cannot use his normal voice because he'll just scare you. Through your broken sobs He knows you're talking about Gabriel and the war. He clutches his teeth anger is bubbling inside him but he keeps it down. He swears that he will protect you and that the lives lost will not be in vain.

Those angels will pay. Gabriel will pay.

Mammon

He immediately cradles you holding you close your small frame against his large chest. He picks you up carrying you to his bedroom laying you down on soft silk he lays next to you. A sad human must be pampered.

Mammon is not a good talker but he knows how to take care of the things he loves. If you need your alone time he understands he'll make sure your treatment today will be of utmost importance. If you want he will stay with you being there to be a big teddy bear for you to hold and cry and an ear to listen. You'll be bathed in his bathroom tonight You will have all of your favorites prepared and delivered. You will not leave his room You will not leave his side.

Leviathan

He walks in your room more like barges into your room. Locks do not exist in his castle. Only for him to freeze his eyes going wide when he sees you crawled up crying. He feels his heart sink into a pit in his stomach.

He feels like shrinking into a puddle He knows part of this was his fault. But he doesn't know how to talk to people. He doesn't know how to console you He doesn't know how to help!!

He leaves the room ordering his servants to do anything to make you feel better or else they'll get hanged. To hell with his jealousy, you come first in times like these!

Beel

You know what makes him feel better? Going out and having fun. However sometimes that doesn't work with certain people. As his nobles do what they can to console you. He barrels through the door. loads of snacks in his arms (He didn't know which one you wanted so he just got everything)

Sometimes some people rather just be left alone during that time but feels about just can't knowing that you're on the other side of the door hurting. Knocking at your door constantly checking in on you. He's just worried.

Once you calm down he will listen to everything you have to say while the two of you eat snacks.

Lucifer

Lucifer is not well versed in mental health of humans So whatever he does he goes by the book whatever his books on human say he does. Being the extremely direct demon he is He will directly ask you if something is wrong and what has you so sad. However since he is not well versed in human mental health he is kind of scrambling, He is trying everything trying to stay calm. In the end he sits next to you petting your head until you calm down.

He does not like when you shed your tears in sorrow, They do not feel as good as when you shut them not of anger or pleasure or fear.

Oh boy if he hears what Gabriel did He will personally deal with his brother himself. Lucifer does not take kindly to angels or devils that hurt his beloved one move over Satan Lucifer needs a 'family reunion' with his brother.

[emotionalmessss]

Hiii! Can I request yandere Chrollo when reader tries to escape? Hc? Fic? If you want 🥰

A/N: I feel like I haven't written anything in so long (school is going to be the death of me I swear). I'm trying to be more active with my writing now that I've officially graduated, I'm sorry for ghosting! Anyways, enjoy Yan!Chrollo :)

Warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy/forced relationship, implied kidnapping, slight mention of violence and non-consensual touching, and psychological abuse. Chrollo is basically a warning himself lol.

Chrollo is always one step ahead. After all, he is the head of the Spider, so if you think you can escape from him--good fucking luck. He is cunning, meticulous, and devoted to having you back where you belong--in his arms. But that doesn't stop you from trying, does it?

Congratulations for managing to slip through his fingers, but it won't stay that way for long. There is nowhere in the world for you to hide from Chrollo, he will hunt you down using whatever means that will ensure his success. So, enjoy the freedom while it lasts, because it won't last very long.

Sure, Chrollo might be slightly ruffled at the fact that you actually managed to escape. But will he let that affect his calm composure? No, definitely not. Chrollo plays the long game, and he does it best. And who's to say that he didn't intentionally let you escape? To give you that brief, sweet taste of freedom, only to rip it away at the last second?

Chrollo’s expression remains impassive as he lounges on the plush couch in the middle of his expansive living room. Reclining comfortably into the cushions, he folds one leg over the other while using one hand to flip through the book in his lap. He is perfectly aware of your absence from the apartment--how could he not notice when the air lacks the usual animosity that only you can bring? 

Despite the apartment lacking its usual vibrancy, Chrollo remains calm and composed, a trait that has always irked you. His composure never slips, even now. He finds it pitifully endearing that you thought you could outsmart him--have you learned nothing? Chrollo doesn’t know if he wants to praise you for your bravery or laugh at your naivety. 

Sighing, he stretches his legs out across the coffee table, idly smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles on his dress shirt. You thought escape was an option? How quaint. His lips curl into a faint, knowing smirk; his predictions had been correct--like always. While Chrollo can’t deny that he finds your actions mildly irritating, they are more entertaining than anything else--not that he’d ever show it.

“It’s intriguing, really, how you thought you could just slip away from me,” Chrollo mutters to himself, his voice measured and almost serene. His big, gray eyes finally look up from the antique book in his lap, drifting towards the large window that offers a view of Yorknew City’s skyline. Somewhere out there, you’re hiding, and he can clearly picture the mixture of relief, fear, and paranoia etched on your pretty face. 

He taps his fingers on the armrest of the couch--the only sign that his mind is working in overdrive. Clicking his tongue thoughtfully, Chrollo tilts his head back down to the book resting on his thighs. Running a hand through his raven locks, he lets out a hollow chuckle, quickly followed by a deep sigh. For now, he’d let you play your little game, but in the end, you would not win.

Just like everything else, Chrollo's response will be chilling and methodical. As the head of the Spider, he'll use all the resources he has to get his love back. But for the time being, he will let you enjoy your little game. He's more than confident you'll be back where you belong. Make sure to keep looking over your shoulder every so often, he won't be far behind.

Chrollo will have you back in his grasp, no matter how much you kick, cry, and scream. He will remain unflinchingly composed, acting as though you were merely a small animal that needed to be handled with gentle care. The entire time, he'll have that small, almost invisible smile tugging at his lips--that smile that you've come to hate and suggests bad things for you.

Once he finds you--if he hasn't already been watching you the entire time--he'll strike when the time is right, and when the circumstances align in his favour. He won't be openly aggressive, definitely not towards you. Chrollo will take a different route, one that involves planning, scheming, and manipulation.

Consequences? Oh, there has to be some consequences for your disobedience. But, Chrollo would never lay a violent hand on you. No, that's not his style. He could never physically hurt his love. He can hurt you in other ways, though. Friends and family? That's a whole other story. Chrollo being Chrollo, will do whatever it takes to ensure you comply. Only if he's pushed to that point.

In Chrollo's twisted mind, he is protecting you from the dangers of the world--like a good lover should. He firmly believes that the only place for you to be happy and safe is by his side. He'll manipulate you into believing that you need him, and that even the thought of escaping is utterly impossible.

You’ve been sprinting through the empty streets of Yorknew City for hours, and no matter how far you run, you can’t seem to shake the terror that threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, your feet sting, your lungs burn, and your mind is a jumbled fucking mess--is this what insanity feels like or has Chrollo corrupted you so much? Neither of those reasonings are favourable, but you’d probably choose insanity over Chrollo. 

Frantically, you examine your surroundings as you come to a stop, panting and keeling over. You sluggishly move towards the corner of a large building, slumping back against the bricks and wipe the glistening sweat from your forehead. This is Hell, isn’t it? Clutching your chest, your mind races with a slew of possibilities; different escape routes, places to hide, and potential consequences should you get caught. 

What would the reincarnation of the Devil himself do to you if he were to catch you? Would he hurt you? The odds of Chrollo physically hurting you are slim, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t harm you in other ways. Despite spending an unwilling amount of time with him, you could never fully understand the bastard. You weren’t entirely sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

“Get it together, fuck.” Your voice comes out strained and raspy as you forcefully compose yourself, shoving off from the wall to round the corner of the building. Every detail about that man pisses you off--his calculated mannerisms, his unflinching composure, his studying eyes that make you feel like he’s staring into your soul, and that god-awful smile that never looked genuine. 

Just when you soothe your chaotic mind and turn the corner of the building, he appears before you. Your heart plummets, and your feet drag across the pavement as you abruptly halt, completely paralyzed under his scrutinizing gaze. You watch him like a cornered animal, prepared to flee at the slightest sign of malice. But, of course, there is none--perfectly expected from a man like Chrollo. 

“My dear,” Chrollo begins, using the endearing nickname you’ve come to loathe. His voice completely devoid of aggression, showing no hint of the manipulative thoughts that are definitely running through his mind. “Wandering the streets alone at this hour isn’t wise,” he chides gently, his tone tinged with condescension. “Come now, let’s get you back home.” His hand extends towards you, as if he’s giving you a choice. 

You muster up a sliver of self-control, refraining from cussing him out. Instead, you take a cautious step backwards--away from the beast. Noticing this, Chrollo’s lips pull into a slight smile, and his hand returns to his side. He doesn’t move an inch, letting out a resigned sigh that suggests he had anticipated this outcome. His gray eyes never leave yours as the sound of approaching footsteps begins fill the silent street. 

“Please, let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be,” Chrollo continues, his attention focused on you, purposely feigning ignorance of his loyal Spiders who are slowly encircling both of you. He remains the epitome of calm, acting as if your escape attempt was just a minor inconvenience. You stand still, and the Spiders close in, strategically blocking off all paths except for the one leading to Chrollo. 

[koiiiji]

author’s note ; im not really into that omegaverse stuff, and don’t know much about it, but dynamics of big lonely wolf seongji yook x mischievous fox reader living in my head for awhile now 👉🏻👈🏻

tw ; fantasy au, omegaverse (?), suggestive +18 content, nsfw, seongji being service dom, MINORS, AGELESS BLOGS DNI, dom/sub dynamics, whatever else i forget to add

❁ seongji found you in the forests on his mountain. you were hissing and sizzling on him, not letting him get closer to you, when seongji just tried to safe your leg from trap, that definitely was set by people of village to catch him - a monster who terrorized their village (only in their honest opinion)

❁ and honestly, he felt terrible for you, you got in trap that was set for him, and was way too big for you - huge, sharp teeth of the trap bit deep into the skin and meat on your ankle, hampering your movements. also, as seongji noticed, you definitely was close to his species, it was obvious because of your big ears, annoyed fluffy tail, small claws and fangs. he never saw any fox hybrids in this area, so you probably was so lonely all this time, just like him… and you were so cute, hissing at him, trying to play it cool. it was obvious that you were scared, this is a natural reaction to a larger predator. each time seongji tried to get closer to you, you pressed your cute red ears to your head, your fluffy tail started twitching in annoyance! and yet, you were so… small, seongji just knew you didn’t had enough food last few months…

❁ when he finally got you out of the trap - you just passed out when his huge palm tried to cover your eyes, that’s how exhausted and hungry you were - so he brought you to his cave.

❁ days passed as you warmed up to him, opened up to him, became more natural around him, your true self came out - you truly were live proof of why fox hybrids deserve their name of weasels and dodgers. you always clinging to him with your cocky little jokes, having no concept of what personal space is in your pretty little head, your small fangs lightly biting his cheeks or ears, or even his biceps when seongji tries to stop your little games, holding your annoying loud head between the elbow bend and biceps, just to finally had his afternoon nap after another successful hunt.

❁ even though he was enthusiastic when he found you, seongji really wanted to help, and he actually saved you. but when you refused to leave his cave - not like he kicked you out, despite his perpetually grumbling, he liked that you were sneaking around his house here and there - sometimes he was wondering for what sins did you fall on his head… but generally he is happy that he have a company now, at least it’s not so lonely anymore on his mountain.

❁ and everything was wonderful until… your little game with him didn’t start… to feel different. seongji could say that something in him changed too. now you became more clingy and generally more close to him, always nuzzling your cheek under his chin, right above his adam's apple, where was his sensitive spot. each time you pass by him and your tail not so accidentally touched his nose or neck he was rolling his eyes in in ecstasy, immediately turning his head in your direction and sniffing at the strip of sweet smell that was trailing behind you, giving out only a low, rumbling, quiet growl somewhere inside his throat. another problem was that you were very hot. no, not in the sense that seongji thought you were sexy, (that's exactly what he thought), but literally. it was very pleasant to touch you, you were so warm, even hot, and the blood raging in your body gave your cheeks such a sweet blush. it was cute. and he couldn’t help himself really, it was hard, each time leaving his house for hunt, only to get in another fight with any other male that showed up on his territory, or getting a little bit carried away and bringing home more food then needed. Seongji didn't understand why he had become so worked up. now all he can think about is to fight, and somehow his usual instincts were deep down now they’re came back, more feral, wild, bestial. he could sense your presence, your warmth kilometers away, he could sense you.

❁ on the other hand Seongji noticed changes in you as well. yes, you were clingy before, but now it doubled and seemed that you became more vocal… always mumbling, almost purring each time you managed to touch him. and oh, how sensitive you became. each time you start your games again, seongji needed 3 minutes before you whimper from his teeth on your ear, because in your opinion he bit your ear too hard, when in fact he didn’t even put any force on it. Seongji would rather sink through the ground than admit that in fact he likes your games, and what an offended grimace you make when you try to take offense at him, but always coming back.

❁ one day, after another hunt, Seongji returned home, only to be greeted by silence and it was unusual, because you always met him with open arms. making his way deeper into his house, he called you a couple of times, but when he didn't get an answer, he started to worry. he always wondered if other hybrids could sense you miles away as he did? what if his guesses were true, and someone else felt your scent? what if- he had no opportunity to finish his thought when someone abruptly knocked him down and knocked him to the floor. Seongji was caught off guard and now his opponent had an advantage over him from above. just second after, your scent hit his nose, and your hot breath burned his neck, until he felt your body almost on fire.

❁ you looked down at him, pinning him to the floor with your hands on his broad chest and shifting your hips on his abdomen. your cloudy gaze didn’t leave his face, your cheeks were flushed, and tears almost came to your eyes when you whined on top of him "Seongji…. please help me...it's... it's so hot there.... and it hurts…" to say that Seongji was shocked and confused at the same time was to say nothing. he was bursting with overflowing feelings and thoughts. he lived most of his life completely alone, and had no idea what partner actually means. and as he got older, he didn't have a chance to get close to anyone, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't touched himself. just like he’d be lying if he said he’d never fantasized about the two of you. when you moved into the house, he had some sweet thoughts, but Seongji always blushed and waved them away, convincing himself that you were just friends.

❁ and after each thought how he would bend you over nearest surface and pull your tail up after you annoyed him a little too much, he convinced himself that you were just friends. after each wet dream, when he woke up in the middle of the night because of the too realistic images in dreams, where the two of you are gently clinging and nuzzling to each other, the bodies move in unison, and you literally drown in each other, when you reach your peaks, he still convinced himself that you were just friends and he shouldn’t think about you like that.

❁ but when both of you started to change in your behavior, Seongji couldn't stop himself. every day his head was full of sinful thoughts, and your behavior didn't help in any way. and that's what your general silence led to - whining, you pinned him to the floor, desperately fidgeting and looking for more friction, in an attempt to calm the heat below. gently intercepting your hands, Seongji looked into your eyes a little tensely, as if asking if he could sit down. at the same time, he raised himself on his elbows, and sat down uncertainly, now holding you on his lap, slowly releasing your hands. his tail wagged a little and his ears flattened against his head as he bent lower, slowly touching your lips, exploring and tasting you. you deepened the kiss in your impatience, and knocked him to the ground again, biting his lips with your little fangs and digging your claws into his shoulders. in response, he let out a low throaty growl, making you guiltily put your ears to your head and apologetically look into his eyes. sitting down again, he pressed you closer so that you could feel his stone boner through your clothes, and without giving you a chance to squirm and enjoy the friction, Seongji grabbed you by the hips, carrying you to his room.

❁ later that evening he discovered how much your lower back can arch when his hands are on your sides and he's hammering into you from behind. Seongji found out what a sweet voice you can have when he fucked you standing up, so you had to rise on your toes, so he could hit into that sensitive spot inside you. that night, he also zeroed in that your soft, hot walls squeeze him harder if his big palm presses on your tummy, just below the navel. Seongji also liked the feeling when he folded you almost in half, when he held both your legs on his shoulders, denting you into the mattress. but most of all, he remembers the moment when your throbbing walls squeezed him for the last time, when you both lay on your side, hugging each other, and then he could swear that in the dark of the night he could see the little hearts in the depths of your eyes when he came after you, filling you deeply and abundantly, so you almost drooled.

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Die Katze und die Maus.

König x Reader (y/n)

König had a bad day, a bad mission, he was captured by your team, meanwhile your first encounter with a KorTac member is an unforgettable experience.

Warning ⚠️: spelling and grammar errors everywhere, translator for some German words, not long story, there's no specifical description about the reader so this can work for a female or gn reader, credits of this image go to the TikTok user lig.lig.

📢 Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

König did not have a very good day, like, for real, since he woke up he felt an awkward vibe around him.

His coffee tasted terrible, his boots got dirty thanks to a bloody mud puddle, he lost his knife, yes, that very expensive knife with pink handgrip.

During his mission the plane had a failure so he and his team landed kilometers far from the zone where they initially would land. The communication failed too, but at least his team survived, they were safe, but he was captured, yes. He, the colonel, the giant, the legend. He didn't see the man with the hat, he took him by surprise and actually hit hard, König fell unconscious on the ground, he opened his eyes hours later, he could hear some voices outside.

«I'm talking about what we have to do!» (...) «They can come back for him, It's better if we move now» (...) «we don't want to kill him, just information, who sent them and why, that's all!»

He doesn't even try to escape, the day definitely drained him, having a day full of failings and mistakes makes him feel like any intent to escape will be spoiled, so why care.

Suddenly, a man with a skull mask opens the door and observes König, he walks and kneels in front of him, after seconds of silence he shows a picture and finally talks.

- Who are you? Who sent you? And Why did you kill this guy?

König wants to laugh, his training prepared him for the worse scenarios so he doesn't feel intimidated, instead he just looks at the picture then the man and doesn't say anything. He's ready to receive any kind of torture.

He received punches, cuts and other stuff but he still didn't say a word, not even his name. He already had the not so great pleasure of meeting with 4 of the teammates, he heard another voice but hadn't seen who that voice belongs to.

The sound of a grenade explosion out of the building where all of you are, König knows what that means, his team didn't abandon him, he wasn't afraid before and he's not afraid now, once again he listens to all the voices discussing.

«Y/n, stay here, if someone comes to take our hostage, shoot him, we will get information somewhere else, kill the guy»

How many times has someone received orders to kill König? He can't remember anymore, but he knows he will not die today, he will not allow more mistakes and will not allow himself to die in such a stupid way.

Shooting, bombs and screams can be heard from the outside, he's just waiting to hear noise inside so he can have some fun too.

You open the door and the first thing you see is his eyes, you never felt incapable of hurting someone, that's why you're working with this team, because you're capable enough to do the necessary to save the world. But something about this man's eyes is making you feel weak.

- Well, hallo Schatz. I was wondering when we will meet.

His voice sends shivers through your spine. Sighing you close the door behind you and kneel down in front of him. You show him his pink hunting knife and put it on the floor, just in the middle, between you and him but he doesn't even look at it, he's too focused on you.

- I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to make a deal. Tell me, why did you kill that man or at least who sent you and I'll let you go.

- Are you worried about your friends, Meine Liebe? I need to pay my rent, that's why.

You stand up abruptly, pointing your gun at him.

- I'm not fuckin' playing, man.

- Neither do I. I don't care who he was or his importance, I kill for money, doesn't matter if they're good or bad people.

You're unsure about what to believe, he's still observing you, devouring you with those hunger eyes. You're not thinking properly, you're hypnotized by him. You carefully touch the piece of cloth he wears to hide his face, he doesn't mind, he has a mask under it. But the way you're admiring and touching so carefully is a new sensation he didn't experiment with before.

Before you can quit the mask, the door opens and a not so tall man appears, you're quick to stand up, with König's knife, ready to stab the enemy, he avoids it easily, kicking your chest with strength enough to send you to the other side of the room. While you're trying to stand up again, König breaks the ropes of his hands and forearms while his colleague cuts the ropes of his ankles.

Now it's two men against you, you shoot at them but somehow König is way too fast than your bullets, avoiding all of them, he's now standing in front of you, grabbing you by the neck, you kick him to try to release yourself but his grip is strong. You can hear your lieutenant's voice.

- Y/N! How copy!? Answer me, love!

The man who was with König runs to the doorframe and starts shooting at him.

- Colonel, we have to leave, now!

König takes a smoke grenade from your belt, while your vision starts to get blurry and your fainting thanks to the lack of air in your lungs, but you hear König talking to you.

- Nein, Nein, Meine Liebe. Look at me, look into my eyes.

You try to focus, there they are his blue eyes, with some green sparks in them.

- Ja, That's it, Braves Mädchen, look at me, i want you to remember my eyes, we will see each other again, ja?

You nod with much difficulty, he handles his knife and puts it in your pocket. For a moment you can't hear the noise of the weapons anymore, it's just you and König, he shows a part of his face, mostly his mouth and leaves a quick kiss on your lips, carefully he leaves you on the floor, you're coughing and taking air to recover yourself.

He throws the smoke grenade and his friend runs to the window next to you, breaking it, before König can jump he looks at you, you're still on the floor, he kneels down at your side.

- Watcha' doing down there meine Liebling? Our game has already started, catch me if you can Mäuschen (little mouse).

He laughs and jumps at the right time when Ghost gets inside the room, running to you.

- Y/N, are you alright?

You're still coughing, trying to understand what just happened. You're not even paying attention to ghost, he carries you outside, both joined your team, all of them wondering if you were okay, but you don't answer you're thinking about König, only about him, his eyes, the taste of his mouth, the scar that runs through his mouth and goes up to the rest of his face. The feeling inside you is pure desire, you were intoxicated, needing more of König. What did he mean about seeing each other again? What game was he talking about?

You're observing yourself through the window of the helicopter, the marks of his hand around your neck, while you're handling the knife he gave you.

Ghost has eyes on you, he notices the knife.

- Where did you get that?

- He gave it to me.

- Who?

- König, he said something about seeing me again, and a game between us. I'm trying to understand what he meant.

Ghost doesn't say more, he simply stands up and tells Price you obtained his name. You stayed there, thinking about him, about you, about that kiss, wondering when will you see him again.

PT.2 is here already!

[onskepa]

Hi hi hi!!

Can i get neteyam x human reader? Let's say she was jake's teammate back on earth before he lost his legs. And they had some cool nicknames for each of them. Jake calls her 'bullet' (or anything else you want) and she calls him 'marine' (the way grace always called him) or 'mermaid' (to mock him. Idk you chose). When quaritch appears and kidnaps the kids, she's there too fighting along with him. But she doesn't know these are Jake's kids. When she finds out, she sides with them and saves the kids. At first, Neteyam hated her because initially she sided with quaritch. I need them to have the 'enemies to lovers' trop

Hello sweetie! So I went over your request a couple times. While I love your idea, I hope you dont mind if I did some adjustments to it. Reader will most likely be the same age as Jake, meaning she will be old enough to be a parent herself. So, I thought if it is ok to have it be platonic instead of romantic. I hope you are ok and understand the change of it. Hope you can enjoy this one!

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Swaxpi

The natural sunlight of Pandora blinded the marine for a few seconds. Blinking a couple of times to adjust the sudden brightness. Here she was, in the far away planet that is the ideal of new human colonization. And by god, is Pandora beautiful, almost makes her wanna cry. But she came with a new mission and goals. Now arriving and being assigned under the group section following ex-colonel Quaritch. 

After hearing the news of Jake Sully now considered a traitor to human kind, the marine now needed answers. It isn't like him to just act out like that. There has to be some logical reason. Seeing as he has gone native, it will be tricky to find him. But hopeful with her new position, finding Jake sully will be easier. Hopefully. 

“Our mission is to hunt down the one they call Toruko Makto, Jake Sully” Quaritch gives a brief description of their new mission. Marine stood out among the rest of her ‘squad’ as everyone else literally is 4 feet taller than her and blue. Though she paid close attention, she couldn't help but feel weird. 

But now that the squad is heading out, to look for him in the forest to look for him. And while no success, they did find the old shack at the last battle that Jake had with human Quaritch. Not only that, but to see the last minutes of the fighting in a recorded camera of the old armor, the marine almost didn't recognize jake. He looked feral and angry. 

“That is Jake’s woman” one of the members points out the female na’vi in the recording. “She is an animal,” the other commented. In a way, she did. 

But then suddenly, with a turn of her head she looks at the direction of the forest. “You see something soldier?” Quaritch asks, noticing her looking out. Giving a quick look around her, she shakes her head. “No sir, nothing” she replies. 

Though, she could have sworn she heard a voice. Somewhere near a distance.

The surprise attack was indeed surprising. The recom team captured four na’vi children and one human child. Yet two of the four na’vi children have five fingers and eyebrows, indicating they are mixed. 

“Show me your fingers” Quaritch demanded one of the children, and without hesitation, the young boy flipped his middle fingers up at Quaritch’s face. It made the man grin, but the marine almost wanted to laugh. Why does it remind her so much of jake? 

“You’re his alright” Quaritch comments. The marine girl blinked a few times. Are they Jake’s kids? 

Quaritch takes off the mic neck piece from the child and turns it on. And out comes a voice the marine woman thought she would never hear in a long time. 

“Lo’ak? Lo'ak, do you read me?” Jake Sully. Sounding alive and well. And it seems Quairtch knows it too. Shit, if the kids really are his, it will make the situation tense and anything could go wrong. Yet she is the enemy to them. What on Pandora is she gonna do? Be part of the reason for hurting her best friend's kids or will she go rogue? 

Guns were pointed at the children's heads, neither recom hesitating to be rough on the kids. Especially the little one. “Really sir? They are just kids” the marine girl spoke, her eyes narrowing at her commander. Quaritch shook his head dismissively. “They are the spawn of the traitor. They are valuable so long as they dont do anything rash” he responds. 

She is not liking every second of it. 

The youngest child yelps in pain as the one holding her was causing her pain. “Easy! Damn, let me have her” she tells the big blue off. She grabs the youngest in her hold, still being strong but hopefully softer than how the other was holding. The recom walks away in annoyance. The child however was close to crying. Leaning closer to her ear, the marine whispers “ssshh, its going to be ok. Your dad will come save you soon. I need you to be a big girl and be strong”. 

It sort of seemed to work. Now to figure out how to help the other literal big kids without having her head blown off. She can only hope Jake can get his blue ass faster.

It was night but it was perfect for neteyam and his parents. Yes, they told him to stay put and not move. But how could he stay still when his siblings are in the hands of the enemy? Following quietly, neteyam hid among the large plants, letting the darkness cover him. 

Getting closer, he can see those false na’vi holding down his siblings. He looks and sees tuk, scared yet calm. A human woman was holding her from behind. Narrowing his eyes, neteyam wonders why there is a single human in an all blue team. It won't matter, she along with the others will die. 

So being quick, he managed to kill one false na’vi, however he exposed himself. 

“NA’VI!” one of the recom shouts. Just in time jake catches neteyam and pushes him down to the ground, avoid a flood of bullets. Neteyam knows he will be in big trouble later, but it will be worth it. 

The marine knows she will be in serious trouble later but right now it will be worth it. 

Bullets and arrows were flying around, taking a moment to use it, the marine woman took out one of her bombs and yanked off the ring. Throwing it in the center of where everyone was at. Quickly counting how many seconds she has, the marine grabs the kids and yanks them to a certain direction. 

“Go go go go!!” was all she yelled, pushed the youngest first to the direction where she saw the na’vi. The others followed as she did, counting the time the bomb exploded. Bodies flying all around. The light from the bomb gave her enough sight to see where she was going. However, it was too good of an escape. A sudden and quick sharp pain was felt on her leg. But she couldn't stop to see what it was. Mostly likely she has been shot. By why? It doesn't matter at the moment. 

“MARINE!” she heard quaritch shout. Not looking back she continues to guide the kids deeper into the darkness. 

Until a giant blue body tumbled her to the ground, blade against her neck.

Neteyam hissed dangerously at the unknown woman who kept touching his siblings. He raised his arm ready to kill the woman once and for all. 

“STOP!” kiri shouted, grabbing his arm, forcefully trying to take the blade away from him. Lo’ak also forcefully neteyam to back off from the woman. He looked at them in confusion. “She didn't hurt us! If anything she made sure those killers didn't hurt us any further” kiri was quick to explain. Lo’ak nodded, “yeah, she calmed tuk down and made sure she didn't cry '' he added. 

Tuk wasn't far, “she is really nice! Not like those killers' '. 

Neteyam looked down at the human who was still laying flat on the ground. “Listen, I understand you want to end me. But I am not your enemy. I know I looked like it, but trust me-” the lady’s words were cut by the worried shriek of a female na’vi. 

The kids turned around and saw their parents approaching. Quickly they all ran towards them and hugging them for dear life. Weeping and crying, the parents hugging their children as they sigh in huge relief. “My children! oh thank eywa, you are all safe!” the female na’vi says. After the kids were being checked over, the marine took a good look at the male na’vi. Looked a lot like the recom blues, but also a native. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when the oldest son yanked her up and pushed her rather roughly towards the parents. “The human was there with the demons, holding tuk against her will” Neteyam states. Anger still present. 

“She is not like them!” Tuk protests. Eager to go side with the human woman but jake wasn't letting her. “Please, she didn't want to hurt us,” Kiri adds. Neytiri was ready to kill the human, but Jake gently placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. Getting right at the marine’s face, mad yet confused.       

The marine couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle, “long time no see little miss damsel” she says. 

“No fucking way….”

Neteyam didn't know what to feel. One moment his father was ready to kill the human, and now his father was happy and rough housing with the demon. His mother was just as confused as he was. His younger siblings however were happy and enjoyed playing with the human. Maybe it was so late into the night, maybe the thrill was dying down and he was just hungry and tired. 

Yet he cant help but not trust the human woman. How can his father have him accept the demon who held a weapon near his baby sister? Sometimes he understands his mother more. 

“And this I dunked him in the orange liquid! Oh you should have seen his face! He looked like a shaking, crusty chihuahua!” The marine woman was retelling a funny memory to Jake's family. While the kids laughed, neytiri trying to remain a stoic face couldn't help but crack a smile. 

Jake looked like he wanted to die on the spot. 

“Oh yeah? What about that one time when we were in Guatemala? You were so drunk that you were flirting with that bartender” Jake smirks as he recalls another memory from their shared past. The woman blushed but also looking ashamed. “Not my proudest moment,” she confessed. 

“Swaxpi is so funny! I hope she stays with us” tuk giggles as neteyam tucks her in bed hammock. Neteyam gave a surprised look, “why?” he asks. Tuk shrugs, “I like her!”. Shaking his head, he gives her a kiss on the forehead and leaves. 

He was tired but not sleepy, so much has happened in the few short hours. He needed some time alone. So he quietly leaves his family’s hut and out to the nearby area. Silence was perfect. 

Until it wasn't 

Seems like the human woman was also in the same area neteyam wanted to be in. Neteyam grabs his blade by instinct, observing her move in case she does something. “Calm down kid, I will be gone soon” the human woman explains. 

She turns around and her eyes meeting his. 

“Come here, I could use some company,” she says. 

Huffing in annoyance, neteyam walks over to her and sits near a branch, keeping distance from her. It didn't bother the woman. From what Jake told her, his oldest son is more cautious of possible danger and tends to be alarmed often. 

“Swaxpi, your siblings and your mother have started calling me that, I'm not very well educated on your language, so what does it mean? I hope nothing too mean” the woman asks.  Yes, neteyam has also noticed that too. Mostly tuk and lo’ak calling the odd woman hat name. But hearing that his mother calls her that too was very surprising. 

“It means family member…” neteyam replies slowly. 

The woman humms at that. Seeming more relaxed, swaxpi makes herself comfortable on a branch. “I like it, but I find it odd. I only have met all of you in less that a day, was part of a enemy squad, exposing some of your father’s embarrassing secrets and now look. Already seeing me as family-” 

“I don't, you are a demon no matter what. A killer.” Neteyam cuts her off. 

Swaxpi lowered her gaze, her smile faltering a bit. “Call me what you like neteyam, but never call me a killer. Yes, I joined the RDA. Yes I have held weapons. But never ever have I taken a life. Human nor na’vi. I never brought death to anyone” Swaxpi calmly defends herself. 

Long minutes have passed and neither spoke a word. 

“They can call you swaxpi all they want. But in my eyes, you are nothing to me” neteyam declares. Almost trying to convince himself more than the human. The woman however lets her lips grow back into a smile. “Sure neteyam, whatever you say” she replies. 

Yes, neteyam will never call her Swaxpi or anything endearing towards her. She is nothing to him, nothing. 

But if she is nothing to him, why does it feel wrong? 

This took too long that I would like. BUT! I hope you all liked this one. And also hope you guys understand the changes I made. So, until next time! See ya!

-------

Swaxpi = Family member

[towerofrabble]

ray time ray time ray time I can finally talk about her now that shes on global and people will understand what im talking about. (spoilers for To The Grinning Valley go read it, it's short)

Ray's childhood is pretty messy. She was born to nomadic hunters in Rim BIlliton who stayed self sufficient, she learnt how to hunt from them but she doesn't really remember much of that time. She doesn't really remember much of her childhood at all. From her file 3. "… I don't think her love for animals comes from her childhood environment. I can tell that those memories are very, very far from mind." The only vivid memory she has of her childhood is the time when lots of her family died, only to be saved by what she describes as a "ray of light". Some time afterwards (maybe when she was still a minor (hehe) ) she became a pitsinker. Not because she especially felt like doing it but (from file 1) "Once, long ago, someone told her that she could make a living as a pitsinker, and she's been doing it ever since." She's generally quite directionless, just going along with what shes been doing, because she doesn't have anything else she wants to do. This is even how her codename "Ray" was decided, a worker couldn't spell her name "Rayella" and so it got shortened to Ray and she went with that ever since. Not to say she isn't fond of her name, but its not really something she chose for herself. There's also the loads of trauma shes living with. As mentioned above a bunch of her family died and that's tied to her one significant childhood memory, but there's also the damage being a pitsinker has done to her. Grinning MIneshaft (vignette 5) is gut wrenching. Ray cares a lot about Sandbeasts, and one dying in her arms just adds even more to her trauma around the mines. Additionally even though she says she's used to, it she's very afraid of the dark and she associates that with the mines. The ways she describes it makes it seem terrifying. Talk 3 "Tales of the supernatural, these tapes said. Didn't really like watching them, but I do feel... Chills, from these? No. It's hot in the dark. The deeper down the pit, the hotter, harder to breathe. Always took yonks for the lift to bring us back up. I'd just stare at the lights in the ceiling, waiting." Promotion 2 "Proactive? Is this about me applying to rescue Infected...? Remember when you had me treat my wounds? So I have my cotton wads, and they're getting covered in bloodstains, and dust, and Originium shards, and sandbeast fur, and it struck me then: the pit's behind me, a million miles behind, and it's like I'm still being stabbed. Do you think I'm... still carrying the fear?" Trust 1 "Ninety-seven, ninety-eight… Oh, first time seeing you at the training grounds. You always train at four in the morning too? That's not it? An op said I scared them target practicing here all night…? But the light went kaput in my accommodation. I wanted to be somewhere lit-up." The last one might seem a innocent but she constantly shows that she doesn't like being in the dark. From file 3 "Do you remember? When were getting ready to shut down the generator and turn off the lights, she looked so reluctant." From vignette 5

Feranmut'

Take heart, little one. Do not be so down. If it truly vexes you, perhaps you will feel better if you closed your eyes and took a little nap?

'Feranmut'

Ah, perhaps not, for closing your eyes means being in the dark, and you have a look about you that says that you fear it... Alright, I admit I'm not used to consoling people. The Feranmut she meets can see it in her. This line from file 1 is incredibly sad too "...perhaps she will be stuck with a pitsinker's mindset for a while yet: isolated, always on high alert, always raising her head to gaze up from the bottom of the shaft at the light from the entrance, not knowing whether she's alive or dead until she's hauled back to the surface and leaves the dark behind her." I really wanna give her a hug,, She also doesn't associate with many people. From file 2 "For quite a while after joining Rhodes Island, nobody paid much attention to Ray. There's no shortage of operators who are very welcoming to newcomers, but neither the movie club, the tea club, nor the culinary club ever sent her an invitation. After all, she's never asked for directions, or even stopped to get her bearings on the landship. This made it very hard for anyone to tell that she was indeed a newcomer, even as she was calmly making her fifth loop on the same route." She doesn't talk to people much and usually just keeps to herself, taking care of her sandbeast, or visits Alanna and Warmy. The one scenario she does speak lots is when animals are the topic of conversation. From file 2 "...and eventually reached a confusion as to whether the fowlbeasts that arrived in two different locations were the same species or not. At that point, Ray—who had never spoken a single word to them—slipped into their conversation as though she had known them their whole life and started asking each of the operators where they were from. Upon learning their hometowns, she would explain which species were typical of each region in easy-to-understand terms." This is the main way she makes friends because its basically the only thing she will talk to people about, even her visits with Warmy are her telling Warmy about animals. She also collects animal almanacs which she reads in her free time. I've ranted about Ray now. I love her. Bye.

[literally-arkansas]

I could fix him (I would make him worse)

Clay Puppington x reader

•

Bartending was never easy. You didn't go into the job thinking it would be a breeze, but you'd hoped working somewhere called 'Moralton' might give you any sort of reprieve.

It did not.

There were some characters in town, with various stories, who opened up to your listening ears simply because they had no one else to tell or their lips became too loose. All were various levels of sad or concerning, but none stuck out more than that of Clayton Puppington.

He liked to blame others for his mistakes, always had to be on top. He got angry when he was drunk, and spiteful and brash. But he also cried, easily broke down, and all too often would go from looking like top dog to sobbing into the counter. His face would get red and scrunch up through tears, or he'd slam on the table as he silently sobbed, yearning for more whiskey. It was clear as day he had something deeper going on, always opening up to you but never enough.

Safe to say, Clay was a piece of work. The way he sobbed when he got angry suggested that somewhere within him, at one point maybe he wanted to see himself get better, but it was easier to see others get worse.

And you knew this, of course, but to see him frantically slamming his fist on the thick glass window on Easter Sunday was a whole new level of low.

You yourself had only showed at the bar to do a little bit of spring cleaning. Forghettis was closed for the holiday. In a perfect world, one that was clearly not this one, the citizens would all be spending time with their families or friends rather than alone.

Whether or not they were drinking was a personal choice.

With a sigh, you brushed back your hair and took purposeful steps to the door. Your shoes stuck slightly to the ground, a result of a few poorly mopped spills over time. Bells jangled as you opened the door and peeked out, stepping one foot out into the sidewalk.

"Clay," you called out, your eyes scanning him hesitantly. The well dressed man immediately came to attention, trying to compose himself regardless of the fact you'd seen him in worse states. His brown eyes locked on yours, more admiration than you could claim you'd ever seen in them. "We're closed."

"C'mon, just one drink. I haven't been here in... what, a week?" Somehow Clay managed to be grumbly even when he begged. His brown hair was slightly disheveled, a cowlick sticking out from the rest.

"Three days," you corrected. You couldn't help yourself from thinking, 'and I doubt you've been sober for any of them.'

As you spoke you scanned the sidewalk, checking for any by standards who might see what was about to happen. It was likely wrong of you to do any part of what you were doing. You were closed, for one thing, and it was ridiculous you would break that for one man (and one man only). You knew exactly why you were doing it, too, bad intentions and selfish wants.

With a sigh, you nodded. "You have until I finish cleaning."

Clay's face lit up as much as you'd ever seen it. He was quick to follow you, his hand brushing against your lower back as the door shut almost immediately behind you. His hand was warm against you and full of light you'd never seen in him.

"So, where have you been?" you asked, peeking behind you to glance at the man. You walked in, a route you could've taken blindfolded, behind the counter of the bar.

"Hunting trip with the kid," Clay explained, nonchalant. "We caught a lot of nothing but I got a lot of something. What're the odds you have brandy?"

An eyebrow quirked at the lack of use of his son's name. Mindlessly, you poured him a drink. Immediately, he threw it back.

"That's a shame. My dad took me hunting when I was little, too," you mused, reminiscing on a time long ago. "I always felt a little guilty killing things, but my dad always told me it was getting them closer to God, and then we'd pray for them. And we never killed anything we wouldn't eat.” Clay’s eyes followed you as you walked up and down the length of the bar, wiping away unforgettable nights, as well as those too good to remember. “I don't think he ever saw it that way, actually. He was just thinking of me."

Clay's eye twitched as you handed him another drink. "Why would you be appreciative of him lying to you?”

Clay must've drank before coming to be talking like this. It wouldn’t surprise you if the whole reason he’d come was because he’d exhausted his personal collection.

Deep down, a little part of you liked to think he’d came just to see you. Such a shame, the state he was in. Such a shame, the state you were in.

"It was comforting,” you replied, trying to be gentle. Parenting him, almost. “I don't think he was lying, either. He just… put it into a perspective that made me feel safe.”

"He sounds like a wuss,” Clay commented, throwing back another shot.

"He made quite a few sacrifices for me, and sometimes maybe one of those was… being gentle,” you replied, a little bit more edge on your voice. As you saw it, part of masculinity was being brave enough to set it aside when the time counted.

"Sacrifice!” Clay laughed. Rather, guffawed. “Boy, do I know about sacrifice. I made the ultimate sacrifice, you know. My happiness for my kids. And I do it over and over and over and over again, day in and day out.” He banged on the bar, his words slurring.

As you attempted to craft a response to that that would be even a little bit constructive, the door swung open and there appeared Reverend Putty, slightly disheveled.

"We're over!" Revered Putty shouted, pointing at somebody outside the door. Much more calmly, he turned to gaze inside the depressingly darkened room. "Didn't think you'd be open on Easter.”

"That's because we're closed,” you commented, your eyes softening. “I’m sorry, Reverend.”

"What's he doing here?” Putty asked, somewhat annoyed. He shot an accusatory gaze at Clay.

You looked from the disheveled Clay to the mildly depressed Reverend. "He's doing a routine health inspection.”

"Goddamn it,” Putty grumbled, stepping out the door. “I'll be back tomorrow.” The bell on the door jingled merrily behind him.

Clay laughed animatedly. “What a loser! That guy finally loses his virginity and it's to the ex Ms. Papermouth.”

"He probably had a pretty good time if she has an ex husband,” you commented.

"It can't have been that good if he's an ex!”

You scoffed, nodding exaggeratedly slowly. Shots fired. "Maybe she broke up with him,” you suggested.

As if the devil had called, the door opened once again, exploding the room with a blinding level of light.

“Hello?” Mr. Papermouth, the town’s policeman announced as he let himself in.

“Look who it is!” Clay exclaimed with an exaggerated laugh. “We were just talking about you, you know-“

Papermouth’s eyes widened, and you shut that down before he could bring himself in and start a fight. “No, we weren’t. We’re closed.”

“You don’t look closed-“

“We’re closed. Easter Sunday.”

“Why is he here?” The same question you’d already heard. Like history repeats itself.

“He’s just about to leave,” you said, giving Clay a pointed look. Officer Papermouth gazed skeptically, but eventually showed himself out.

Clay chuckled heartily, shaking his head. “Everyone in this town is so pathetic.” The irony of his words was not lost on you. “Can’t satisfy his sorry excuse of a wife.”

“Everybody’s going through something,” you reminded him. “It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t come in here and drink himself away.”

“Yeah, good, so I can do it alone,” Clay remarked.

“Wouldn’t you rather *not* be alone?” The question was genuine, hinting at something deeper you shouldn’t have even been thinking.

“Being alone is the only way to be,” Clay stated. He gestured for you to refill his drink, which you reluctantly did, wiping the counter. “Others are weak, but not me.”

“Having support doesn’t make you weak,” you stated, cocking your head to the side slightly.

“Who told you that?” Clay laughed out loud. His face was turning a soft shade of red. “Your *father*?”

“Actually, yes, he did,” you snapped. “And he taught me patience, and you better thank God he did, because otherwise I’d have kicked you out too.”

“Then kick me out! But I bet you can’t, because you rely on others,” Clay taunted. He said haughty in the barstool, his arms crossed over his chest. “You need me here.” Still, he watched you closely, waiting for your response.

You shook your head, conflicting feelings in your heart. Above the rest was a growing annoyance, uncertain why you hadn’t removed him yet.

“I don’t need you here,” you insisted, not technically lying. “In fact, you’ve got about five more minutes before you have to pack it up.”

“I doubt you’ll enforce that,” Clay commented, although he didn’t sit so big anymore. “You and everybody else are so desperate for a friend. I bet your father was just as much of a pushover as you.”

(Why he was so fixated on the relationship between you and your father was uncertain, but somewhere within you you knew it was something about Orel. He was projecting.)

"Clayton Puppington, I will not hesitate to ban your entry if you say one more bad word about my father. He was a great man and an even better parent.”

Clay scoffed. Never knowing when to quit, he challenged, "If he's *sooo* great, how come I took his job?”

You weren't sure if he was trying to provoke you or just that drunk, but you didn't care. He probably wouldn't remember it the next day, anyway. Red filled your head, spurred on by all sorts of things you weren’t ready to understand, but most of all by his blatant disrespect for your family.

Before you were even aware of your hand moving, you hit him.

Clay's eyes went as wide as yours when the loud smack reverberated off of his face. His hand came to cup his cheek and you took a step back, surprised you actually had the balls to do it.

The room went silent, Clay giving you a strangely earnest look that crossed shock with hurt. Your heart stopped.

"Clay, I'm... I'm sorry,” you apologized, realizing what you’d done. Yelling at him would’ve been a more productive move than that - you were grown adults, brawling in a bar. “I should've never done that.”

"What?” Clay asked, his voice small.

“I guess I'm not great at using my words,” you admitted, trying to be as polite as possible. Clay was a big customer - you didn’t exactly want to lose his patronage. “Drinks are on me.”

You brushed a hand on his cheek gently, inspecting the slight red mark. He leaned into it, just enough for you to analyze it for nights after, but not too much.

“Can I kiss you?” Clay asked all of the sudden.

Glancing at him, your eyes softened slightly, confused. You bit your lip, sure you'd never get the chance again. You’d be lying to say you'd never thought about it, never fantasized about it. The way his lips would feel against yours, the way his hands would feel rubbing up and down your sides. In your hair.

“Why would you want to do that," you laughed slightly, crossing your arms over your stomach.

“I think I love you,” Clay admitted bluntly.

“Clay,” you said.

“What?” he asked.

“I just slapped you and now you love me?” you reiterated, hoping he’d understand how crazy that was. How unfortunate that was. “No, Clay, you know you don't love me. You love that I listen to you.”

Clay wasn’t convinced. “No, I think I do,” he claimed with conviction. “I want to.”

You sighed, resigning yourself to bear your soul. You placed your hands down flat on the bar, no longer sticky.

“Look… I like you, Clay. More than I should. But you have a wife,” you reminded. “And the way you look at Daniel is nothing like me.”

You couldn’t deny the gazes you’d seen them share - and the way the jealousy held you in its vise.

“That’s because you're different.”

With a sigh you replied, “Ask me when you're sober. It won't make either of us feel any better right now.”

And that was the gimmick, wasn’t it? He loved you when he was drunk. And even if he loved you sober, he never was.

Always two drinks in, always two feet apart.

[hellverse]

happy valentine's/anniversary to the beloved

third year destiel-versary and a lost ring, 1.7k:

Dean was so fucked. And it wasn't even his fault. Really. 

He had woken up and rolled over to Cas' side of the bed like usual, still somewhere between dream and reality, the other side of the bed feeling cold and empty. He had flailed his left arm around for a second before finally opening one of his eyes, just enough that he could see, almost as if his vision was at fault for not having Cas there. (Of course, it wasn't.) He did this every time. Every single time he woke up without Cas - which, really, wasn't very often, so you couldn't blame him - even when he knew the other wasn't there, because there was nothing to touch, because he could feel the emptiness, he still had to take a peek. Cautionary measures or whatever. It's not like he could go back to sleep anyway. 

Today was no different. After completing the mental checklist in his head, he rolled back to his side of the bed, lying on his back, rubbing his face, attempting to clear the sleepy fog still hovering above him. And that's when it happened. With the fingers of his right hand, he reached for his left ring finger. It had become somewhat of a habit to him, touching the ring there, twisting it, almost like a checkpoint, a solid sign that he was there, exactly where he wanted to be, a certainty of being okay. But the ring wasn't there. 

Dean jumped up, now sitting in the bed, frantically looking around, as if the ring might be floating mid-air, just waiting for him to notice it. He looked down at his hand again, something short of panic and betrayal colouring his features. 

"No, no, no," he whispered. 

He had always been careful with the ring. Cas never minded him getting it a little scratched up and dented, he said it only made it better in his eyes, and Dean agreed, but there were some things he considered too messy. Surprisingly, this didn't include hunts. He had been cautious of them at first, almost as if it being a wedding band made it more prone to accidents. (It didn't.) And although they had been going on fewer hunts these days, it was still too many for Dean to want to leave his ring behind. So it mostly came off for cooking certain dishes or when he was showing Baby a good time. 

All this to say - he kept an eye on it. But it had been three years, and maybe he wasn't as eagle-eyed about it anymore. Now, sitting in bed, staring at his hand like it could be someone else if it wasn't literally attached to him, he couldn't remember if he had left it anywhere. He must've had it yesterday morning, but did he have it when he went to sleep? He couldn't be sure, not a 100%. 

Dean sat in silence for a solid few minutes, desperately grabbing at straws, trying to shake his memories awake. Thoughts of having to tell Cas were ringing in his ears. Cas wouldn't care much about it, he knew that, but something about it made him feel uneasy. He didn't want a replacement, he wanted the ring they had picked out together, with all its dents and bruises, showing what three happy years looked like carved round a ring. 

He finally regained mobility after the initial confusion and jumped out of bed, reaching for any nearest clothing he could see. Well, maybe not see, he wasn't really looking, instead, he was scanning the surroundings for anything small and shiny - y'know, possibly resembling a ring. 

The first stop he made was the kitchen, thinking he could've left it there the day before since he had made pancakes - though Dean was almost certain he had put it back on. He didn't even notice Sam sitting at the table, eating breakfast. It was only after he was done tornado-ing through the kitchen that he felt his brother's blank stare fixated on him. 

"Good morning," Dean spoke as he whipped around to face Sam, slightly out of breath, a crooked smile on his lips. 

"Are you...okay?" Sam replied, looking slightly amused.

"Yeah, yeah, no, um," he paused for a second, attempting to look calmer than he was, giving a weak chuckle, "I'm doing great."

"Did you...forget a Valentine's slash anniversary gift for Cas or something?" Sam wasn't even trying to hide his amusement anymore. Oh, how quickly your family will turn on you. 

Dean stared for a second. He had forgotten what day it was, but in all fairness, he had been a little preoccupied with trying to not have a heart attack. And besides, he had gotten Cas a gift about a month ago. Yeah, he planned ahead. A new shiny man he was. Though not shiny enough to keep an eye on his wedding band, apparently. 

"No," he replied, though Sam didn't seem to believe him, "but, you, uhm, haven't happened to see my ring anywhere, have you?" he almost winced at himself, closing his right eye, making a face about it. 

Sam actually laughed this time, jerk.

"Oh, you can't be serious," Sam combed his hand through his hair, "today of all days? That's just unlucky, man." 

Dean gave him an unimpressed look before turning away and marching out of the kitchen. 

"Nice outfit by the way, who knew ring hunters were so fashionable," he heard his brother yell after him. 

Dean looked down at himself. He was wearing his shirt inside out, and the pants he had chosen were Cas'. They were slightly short on him, made of some fuzzy material - Cas loved the way they felt (and Dean didn't mind them either, but he wasn't exactly thrilled about sporting them around the bunker).

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling, and rubbing his eyes. There was something ridiculous about the whole thing, but Dean had never had much that was just his or something that he could share with people he loved, something physical. There was one drawer in their bedroom, full of photos and knickknacks, but that's about it. He used to wear rings more when he was younger, but keeping track of them whilst jumping from one motel room to another proved too difficult. And this wasn't just any ring - only a few years ago he wouldn't have even imagined having it. It was Cas' as much as it was his, and he loved it. 

His mind was still buzzing, trying to retrace his steps, as he heard the door open, familiar steps drawing closer. Dean turned around to look at his husband, beaming at him without giving it any thought. 

"Hi," Cas said gently.

"Hi," he replied, leaning in for a soft kiss. 

"Sorry I was gone when you woke up, didn't think you'd be up so early," the other continued as they broke their kiss. 

Dean rolled his eyes slightly, before biting the corner of his mouth, trying to figure out how to bring up the whole I-lost-the-symbol-of-our-love thing. He unconsciously went to twist the ring, cursing at himself in his head. 

"Cas," he sighed.

His husband gave him a puzzled look. 

"Cas, I can't find the ring," he said, going for something sad, defeated maybe, though it came out a little more panicky than he would've liked. 

"The ring?" Cas repeated slowly. Dean nodded, a little confused. He didn't think there were many questions to ask about 'the ring', it was pretty clear what he was referring to, though Cas seemed a little...off about it. 

"The ring," Cas repeated himself with a sigh. 

Dean furrowed his brow. Was he hallucinating? Maybe he was still asleep. Cas smiled at him, shaking his head slightly. 

"For the record, I was planning to do this later," he began, digging in his coat pocket, "but since you're hot on my trail, or whatever, already...," he trailed off, pulling out a tiny velvet box. 

Dean just became more confused, turning his head, looking behind him as if trying to figure out the joke. 

"Last I checked, I already married you," Dean said, leaning closer to Cas, almost like he was whispering a secret. 

Cas just laughed, looking down at the box. 

"I know, Dean, I was there," he looked back up at him, eyes gentle, "but it's our anniversary, and I wanted to do something special. I know you love the ring, I mean, I should've realised you'd notice it missing, I just...it doesn't matter, here," he took the ring out of the box, taking Dean's hand into his own and placing the ring in the middle of his palm. 

There was a moment of concern, where Dean thought Cas might've polished the ring or something, but he knew the other understood how particular he was about the thing. He took the ring between his fingers, observing it for a second, before looking up at Cas, questioning. 

"Look on the inside," the other mumbled. 

Dean did, and the number of emotions washing over him right that second couldn't be counted by the smartest person in the world, he was sure of it. There were hints of embarrassment, relief, happiness, who knows what else.

Cas had engraved the ring with Scratches, bones, & ashes, the date of their anniversary across from it. Their own personal forever and always. 

"Cas," he whispered, smiling, feeling a little blurred around the edges, as Cas grazed Dean's chin with his hand. 

"Thank you..." he pulled him for another kiss, a deeper one this time, one that made him feel like he would never let go. 

*

"Does yours..." Dean suddenly asked as they lay in bed, looking at each other, Cas playing with his hair.

"Mine has it too, Dean," he replied simply. Dean huffed a laugh. 

A beat of silence passed before he spoke up again:

"How did you even get it? I swear I didn't leave it anywhere, so..."

"Dean," Cas looked at him very seriously, pushing closer, "I'm very good with my hands...plus, you were quite preoccupied last night," he said. 

"Who, me? I think I might be blanking, why don't you remind me?" he bit, just as serious as his husband, before pushing Cas onto his back, breaking into a smile. 

[francis-writes]

Can I request a oneshot for Ramsey Bolton x fem reader where the reader is a servant and Ramsey is attracted to her but doesn’t act on it and she accidentally stumbles upon him killing his father and she hides in the corner somewhere in the room and over hears him planning to kill his stepmother and brother so she tries to help them and get to them before Ramsey dose but she is unsuccessful and Ramsey discovers what she tried to do so she begs for forgiveness and he tells her he will consider it if she can prove to him why she deserves it so he takes her to the room where he flays people and has sex with her on the X-shaped cross ?

A/N: it isn't really good but in my defense, I wrote like half of it while still high on acid so...

Warnings: it's Ramsay, what do you expect

You were watching from behind the corner, praying to all the Gods so your presence would remain hidden and unnoticed. Otherwise you would end up in worse situation that those people you tried to protect.

Your were barely breathing, listening to the screams of Fat Walda. You weren't even able to look at it, just a few moments after dogs attacked her, you turned away your gaze, feeling nauseous. You would love to be wherever else, as far as possible from this place but right now there were no escape from hearing the gut-wrenching screams of agony as woman and her child were ripped apart by the hounds.

You closed your eyes, distancing yourself from overhelming reality but soon you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Ramsay asked. His voice wasn't angry but it didn't matter. You saw him flaying people with a calm mundane voice so you never knew what's awaiting you in his presence.

"I was just walking to the kitchen-" you tried to quickly make up and excuse but Ramsay only slapped your face. You touched tour burning cheek.

"Don't lie. I heard what you were talking about with my stepmother. You came here to warn them"

You simply nodded. Whatever the punishment will be, better not make it any worse.

"Forgive me, my lord, I made a mistake... Please, show me mercy" you pleaded, avoiding looking right into his cold eyes.

Ramsay observed you with mixed feelings. Your betrayal ignited his anger, and you should pay for your lack of loyalty. But at the other hand, seeing you terrified, cowering like a beaten dog... that was a gorgeus sight.

You were on his mind for quite some time but he didn't show it before. He was only observing you wander through the halls and do your chores while he fantasized about taking you on a hunt or pulling you to the nearest bedroom. Even during the feasts, while you were serving him, he only looked, holding himself back from pulling you on his lap and sliding a hand under your dress.

"Can you prove that you deserve it?"

"Hm?" That wasn't the smartest answer. It wasn't even mediocre sensible. But you didn't expect your pleads to bring any sort of answer, except for slow and cruel death.

"If you prove that you're worth of my forgiveness, you'll receive it"

You felt on your knees, ignoring the mud staining your clothes and freezing your knees.

"Thank you my lord, I will do anything, just tell me how I can prove myself-"

Ramsay cut your monologue, pulling you from the ground and leading you inside the castle. You felt disgusted by how much you had to humiliate yourself but it was still better from tortures. Just in case it saved you from any because Ramsay went into the dungeons.

Your anxiety has increased when you entered one of the cells and you saw X-shaped cross standing in the middle. You knew well what happened to people who ended up here.

"Will you flay me?" You asked, just to make sure and spare yourself the torture of uncertainty.

"No, as long as you behave. So if you want to keep your skin, take off your clothes"

You obeyed him, though still frozen with fear. Your dress landed on the floor and you were standing in front of him completely bare. Ramsay took your hand and lead you to the cross, then he started fastening your arms to the cross with a strong rope. You could feel it pressing and scraping your skin but you gritted your teeth, trying not to make a sound.

When he finished his job, Ramsay took a knife from the table. You thought that he lied and it's gonna be your end but he started carving letters on your chest. You moaned quietly as pain pierced your body. You looked down and noticed that under blood runnig down your body, Ramsay was carving his name in your skin.

"No one will doubt now, whom I belong to" you said, not sure why but after all experienced anxiety and fear, your mind get rid of every barrier and sensible plans. You were one foot in a grave and nothing mattered anymore.

When he finished his art, Ramsay leaned over and licked your wounds. You arched your back, in mix of pain and pleasure. His warm tongue caressing your broken skin brought you some twisted form of excitement. The same one you always felt looking at Ramsay. You knew about his depravities and what he could do to you, but you couldn't help desiring him. He was alluring in a way of forest fire, that brings death and destruction, but you can't stop looking at it. You dreamed about his touch for many years but you never expect it would happen in such circumstances.

Ramsay crouched and started kissing your naked legs, going up and getting closer to your crotch. Then, out of sudden, he bit your inner thigh and you gave out a quiet scream. You didn't look at him but you were more than sure that he smiled hearing this.

He stood up, his warm calloused hands wandered across your body, caressing your belly, breast, hips and squeezing your butt.

Finally his hand wandered between your legs.

"Your already wet" he noticed with smugness in his voice "So that's what you like? Pain? Being on my mercy?"

You wanted to deny, to don't give him that knowledge. But you knew he wouldn't believe you and he would torture you until you admit it; though some of these tortures would probably turn you on.

You nodded.

He lifted your legs,  so you could embrace your hips with them. He pulled out his dick, and entered you without any preparation. Fortunately, you were already wet enough so it went smoothly. He pressed his body to you and stared thrusting. Ramsay nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and you felt his hot breath of your skin. Occasionaly, he bit your neck and shoulders. Now it was more exciting than painful, though you knew you were going to wear bruises for a long time.

He had to be very turned on because after few minutes of fucking you, he gasped and feeled you to the brim with his seed. He pulled out and you could feel his cum running down your legs.

"So... will you free me now, my lord? You asked while he was pulling on his trousers. Ramsay chuckled and walked to the table with his tools.

"If you think it's an end, you haven't been paying attention . We're gonna spend a lot of time together "

[starlightandfairies]

hey!! i love ur work and was wondering if u could do a fic where daryl and the reader go hunting together?? (idk what else to write but i think this would be super cute!! <3)

Description: The reader and Daryl go out together on a hunt.

Warnings: swearing, fluff,

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, and check my character list and requesting rules. Thank you for your kind words!*

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,112

You and Daryl had packed your things to go hunting, just in case you went too far you always took a little sleeping pack that was still light to carry and travel around. Daryl enjoyed hunting with you, besides Carol, you were about the only one he really enjoyed hunting with and you hadn't been sheltered this the end of the world happened, so you knew what you were doing now and Daryl didn't need to babysit like he may have had to do with others. 

However, you had recently just been injured, resting in the mini hospital until you had been healed and you weren't able to speak to anyone. So you had a lot to say, poor Daryl didn't usually mind hearing you say what was on your mind but it was getting a little annoying and he just wasn't having any of it. 

"So, I had this dream where I found a squirrel and it looked similar to you. So I picked it up and it was you! Apparently, in my dreams, the walkers didn't exist, it was witches and they turned you into a squirrel because you know, you're you and as lovely as you are, you are a bit of a nuisance because you are a fighter and they didn't want that. Thus you became a squirrel." Daryl chuckled lightly at your thoughts, he smoked his cigarette and looked at you with an amused smile. 

"I just stayed as a squirrel?" 

"I woke up, so I guess so." You shrugged, picked up some safe plants to eat and placed them in your basket. While you could kill animals to eat, you didn't like doing it as the eyes made you feel bad for them and you couldn't eat an animal that had just been killed. So Daryl always had you looking the other way whenever he shot a deer or a bird." He personally didn't understand it, however, he knew you could do it if you really wanted to and he respected your choice not to watch the food be killed. 

"Do you think that there's anywhere out there that isn't screwed by all this shit? Do you think that we at least have some secret military group working on a cure or that there's somewhere that how we were before without some corrupt leader saying it's a democracy when it's not and it's actually not?" 

"I don't know, this world isn't much different from before." 

"People die more, people are crueller and it's more disgusting than before. Some of these communities we have been at, what they've done or what they've been forced to do because of the people that have hurt them. I don't like it."

"I know. I don't like it either but we're getting there. We might be able to rebuild one day. The walkers won't show up anymore, humanity will finally get its shit together and we'll be able to live life as normal. Have all those things that were taken for granted and it might be a better place." Daryl tried to reassure you, he wasn't this optimistic about the things that were being talked about but he wanted to do what he could comfort you. 

Daryl sat down on a fallen log with you, he took your hand and smiled at you with a gentle look. You turned away as Daryl stood up, killing a large bird and started cooking it instantly. That part you were fine to deal with, Daryl smiled as you scooted closer and rested your head on his shoulder. 

"I'm sorry for talking your ear off, I know I'm not usually this chatty and I know chatty can be annoying." Daryl shook his head, took a breath and poked the bird as it cooked on the fire. 

"No, I enjoy hearing your stories." You smiled, Daryl had cooked the bird all the way through and handed you the portion you requested. 

"If there's anything I like about this world. I like being able to see all the stars, there's no light pollution and you can just see everything..." 

"What's wrong?" Daryl noticed as you trailed off, a sigh escaping your lips as something popped into your head. 

"Can you just imagine how awful it must have been if someone was in space when the world... when it started. So, they're just stuck up there, all alone and with no chance of being able to come back. I'd hate to be alone when I die... Sorry." You wiped away the frown that stayed on your lips and finished eating your food. 

"Hopefully nothing like that happened." Daryl watched the smile and took a breath as you finished up. 

"Four walkers two at your left and the other two coming on my right." Daryl huffed, he pushed himself up and nodded at you. The two of you easily took the four down, quickly packing everything up and continuing your hunt and taking down the one or two walkers that happened to be nearby. 

Daryl liked seeing you in a happier mood, you were itching to get out and do something. So he was quite happy to watch you enjoy the world, talk his ear off and gather things for others and yourself as you made your way to shops. The man jumped as you popped up beside him, he shot you a stern look as you shrugged and sent him a wink. 

"I found this for you. What do you think?" Daryl looked at you with a raised eyebrow, it was a pooping penguin toy, originally made for candy but small little rocks could work. 

"What is it?" He asked with an amused smile, glancing at the twisting nob to make it work. 

"It's a pooping penguin, you put small bead-like things inside it. So, you twist its head off and pour the item in. Put the head back on and put it on a flat surface and twist the knob. It starts walking around and poops the stuff out. I found these beads as well. Daryl chuckled and thanked you, carefully placing the item in his bag. 

The thought made Daryl happy, he smiled as he felt cared for after being thought about and given a gift. You grabbed some medications and walked over to Daryl with a satisfied look on your face. 

"Let's head back." You sighed with a small smile, taking Daryl's hand to start heading back. 

[silent-stories]

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

Summary: You never stopped thinking about Dean since he left and when one night he shows up again in the bunker maybe things between you two can finally be fixed.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Word count: 2391

First part here

Your pov:

Now

"Y/N? Y/N, are you even listening to me?" Sam called you passing his hand in front of your face to get you out of your thoughts.

"Mh, what?" You asked as you straightened up in your chair, realizing that you had zooned out, again.

"I've been talking to you for five minutes and you haven't heard a word of what I said." He sighed.

"I'm sorry Sam." You said, admitting you had your head somewhere else and trying to avoid his gaze by looking into every corner of the bunker room.

"You're still thinking about him, aren't you?" He asked.

"Absolutely no." You denied quickly, by instinct, not because it was true.

"Y/N, stop lying to me, you have been acting in a different way lately and we both know you've been like that since my brother left. I'm your best friend, you can talk to me..." Sam started to say.

"Really Sam, I'm fine. I don't need you to be my therapist." You cut him off while getting up and starting to walk to your room. You weren't going to tell Sam about your problems, not when it concerned his brother. Plus it was starting to get late and some sleep wouldn't hurt you.

"You miss him." Sam said and you suddenly stopped.

God, that man didn't seem to want to give up.

"You miss him and we all noticed. Even Donna and Charlie asked me if you were okay last week. Every time you see or hear something that makes you think about him you just zoone out and it's because you miss him. Even if you don't wanna admit it."

Shit, then you did a really bad job trying to hide the fact that you missed Dean like air.

You had really tried to be happy for him, you had really tried and you almost succeeded for a while.

He had found someone he loved and was living the life he wanted to live, it hurt to know that that person wasn't you, but despite that you were happy for him.

In the following period, however, your mind was flooded with doubts and questions that you could not answer, because Dean was not with you.

Was he okay? Was he happy? Was he loved?

Did the girl he was with now know what to do when Dean came back after a hunt went south? Did she know she had to give him his space but also try to make him feel better and saying it wasn't his fault?

Did she know what she had to do when Dean came home a little drunk saying he didn't deserve her love? Did she know what she had to do when he woke up from a nightmare?

You couldn't have known, because he had left. And if he left it meant he was better off where he was now, right?

"It doesn't matter if I'm still thinking about him. Because he's not thinking about me." You said.

"Y/N ..." Sam tried to say before he got interrupted.

"Goodnight Sam." You said before walking down the bunker hallway with the intention of getting to your room and sleeping at least ten consecutive hours trying to avoid Sam, avoid your thoughts and avoid life in general.

But, when you were on your way, something caught your attention, Dean's bedroom door was ajar. Sam had probably dropped in to get something and forgot to close it.

You walked towards it but instead of closing it, you peeked inside.

Even without turning on the light, you could see that the room was as it had been left by Dean. More or less.

Sam must have made the bed because you were sure Dean couldn't fix the sheets that well.

Most of the items above the shelves were gone, and even though you couldn't see them, you knew most of the clothes inside the closet weren't there anymore.

With the excuse that your room was at the end of the corridor and therefore "too far", you sneakead in what was once Dean's bed.

You wanted to say the sheets still smelled like him, but evidently Sam had washed them and there was nothing left of Dean's scent you were used to.

You wrapped the blanket around you, even if it was much colder than the usual heat that Dean's body gave off when he was next to yours and you pretended it was Dean's arms.

Your mind went to something that had happened a few months ago, even though it felt like years, and you couldn't help but fall asleep with a slight smile on your lips.

Four months ago

"Dean." You called him while you were standing in front of his bed.

"Dean." You said again, placing your hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly, while Dean made a sound worthy of a bear. "c'mon wake up."

"It's too early." He murmured turning over in the covers.

"It's not too early, and breakfast is ready."

"Did you make breakfast without me?" He asked pretending to be offended and rubbing one eye with the back of his hand.

"I made breakfast for you, you idiot." You laughed.

"That's so sweet, I'm going to throw up." He said with a smirk before a pillow hit him in the face.

"Hey!" He exclaimed.

"Get out of bed, ungrateful." You laughed starting to leave the room, but when you reached the threshold of the door, the pillow flew towards you and hit the back of your head.

Dean's low laugh filled the room.

"Dean, you should know it's never a good idea to start a war with me." You said as you picked the pillow off the floor and realized that the cover had opened slightly, showing the feathers inside.

For once you were grateful that everything in the bunker was not very modern.

"Oh and why you say that?" Dean asked from the bed.

"Because I always win." You answered before throwing the pillow back at him, which hit Dean's face in a blast of feathers.

You burst into laughter as Dean spat out some feathers that ended up in his mouth.

"Disgusting." He said as you approached him and ran a hand through his hair to remove some feathers.

"Now come and have breakfast." You laughed as you grabbed his hand and Dean finally got out of bed.

"Anyway, Sam bought breakfast, I didn't make it." You said as you headed into the kitchen, admitting you hadn't even touched a kitchen utensil that morning.

"Well, you could have said it before, I would have gotten out of bed right away!"

You rolled your eyes and nudged him, but you were still holding his hand.

Dean's pov:

Now

Dean was still driving. He had been driving for over an hour and it was late in the night, but he wasn't tired.

He had to get to you, he had to tell you what he felt, what he had felt for years of his life but he had ignored, what he had let slip because he had thought that having a life with someone else would be better for both of you.

If he looked at the passenger seat he could almost see you sleeping with your head tilted to one side, like you always did when you came home after a hunt, despite trying to stay awake every time.

Four months ago

It was about two in the morning and the road ahead of you was still long, but Dean had decided not to stop at a motel, because now the bunker was his home and if to go back to spend the night there he had to drive a few more hours, then he would.

When he glanced at you, sleeping in the seat next to him, the corner of his mouth curled into a smile and he thought that if he wasn't driving, he would have definitely moved the lock of hair that fell over your face and he would have placed it behind your ear.

On the radio, kept at a low volume so as not to wake you and Sam in the back seat, one of his favorite songs started playing and Dean unwittingly found himself humming the chorus.

Sure, he never would have done that if you two weren't sleeping, but then again, he had to find a way to stay awake, right?

"You sing well."

Dean suddenly stopped and turned his head towards you, who had woken up and was looking at him with sleepy eyes and a smile on your lips.

"You must have dreamed it, I wasn't singing." He denied.

"Mh" You said settling on the seat looking for a comfortable position to go back to sleep "that's not true, I heard you, you have a nice voice."

"I told you you were dreaming. Now go back to sleep, sweetheart, we still have a few hours to travel."

"If you say so." You muttered as you closed your eyes and fell asleep again.

Or at least, Dean always thought you were back asleep.

He never found out that you had been awake for a few more minutes, only to hear him sing again.

Your pov:

Now

You heard a noise coming from somewhere in the bunker and you suddenly woke up.

When your eyes, after a few seconds, got used to the darkness and you recognized Dean's room, you instinctively checked the space next to you in the bed, almost expecting to find him there.

As you scolded yourself for how pathetic this was, you heard a noise again, this time of footsteps, and it seemed to get closer and closer.

Sam didn't usually make that much noise, you thought as you looked around for a weapon, but still not finding any.

But then you thought: who could have managed to enter the bunker? Who knew the location and could get through the security system?

You slowly opened the door, peeking out.

"Dean?"

"Hey, Y/N." He smiled, scratching the back of his head as if he were nervous. What was going on?

"What ... what the hell are you doing here?" You asked opening the door and making sure that he didn't seem to be hurt or anything like that.

"I'm here because this is the place I want to be." He started "and I'm sorry if it took me too long to understand it and I hope you'll tell me it's not too late."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. Too late for what? He wasn't really talking about you, right? It was impossible.

"I want to be with you, Y/N." He explained "I want to stay here because I want to be with you."

He was really talking about you and him.

After months of being without him, trying to accept the fact that Dean didn't love you the way you wanted, the way you loved him, he was now coming back to tell you there was the slightest chance of making things right between you?

You thought you were probably still sleeping and that was just a good dream.

"Say something, please." He said when he got no response.

"What about Ally?" You asked.

"We broke up, we weren't meant to be together, we never were."

"And do you think we are?" You asked. "Meant to be together, I mean."

"I know that when I'm with you I'm happy." Dean said. "I know that you make me feel good and that the months I spent without you were wasted time. I know that when I am with you I don't need to pretend to be someone else, I know that you were always there when I needed you and I'm sorry for not doing the same but now I'm here to fix it. So yeah, I'm meant to be with you. Are you? "

You stared into his big green eyes and you saw only honesty in them. He looked sincere.

He looked like the man you had loved silently for months and still loved, the man you had thought of every day of your life, both when he was with you and when he wasn't, and when he wasn't you had hoped he was fine even if you weren't with him, because you loved him.

"I... yes. Yes, I think I am." You finally said "I'm meant to be with you."

He leaned over, crashing his lips to yours. You kissed him back almost instantly, his hands cupping your face as he deepened the kiss.

"I'm sorry I left." He said when his lips parted from yours.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I wanted you to stay." You responded before pulling him towards you to taste his lips again.

"Dean?"

You and Dean suddenly separated.

"Hey Sammy." Dean said as he nodded to his brother who was standing a few feets away from you two, still standing in the doorway.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked in a sleepy voice.

"Oh come on, is that all you can say around here?" Dean said before putting his arm around your shoulders and pushing you close to him, like he's afraid of losing you again.

You held back a laugh as Sam ran his gaze to you, then to Dean.

"Yeah, right. Stupid question, nevermind." He said shaking his head and walking back into his room muttering a "he took his time."

"He's not wrong." Dean said.

"It's okay, it was worth the wait." You reassured him.

"Well, you must have missed me very much if you slept in my room." He laughed.

"You have no idea." You said as you pushed him inside and closed the door behind you. "But I know how you can be forgiven."

Dean smirked.

You shook your head, knowing what he was thinking about. "Cuddles." You said as you got into bed. "Cuddles and sleep, I bet we both need that."

Dean chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your body and rested his head on your stomach, letting you bring a hand to his hair.

"Mh, yeah. I think I'll take that."

You laughed softly and the last thing you heard before falling asleep was Dean's breathing turning into a light snore and you couldn't help but think how much you had missed that annoying sound.

@eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf @dean-winchester-6767 @samanddeansannoyingsis @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse @random-spn-fan + @icequeen1371 @nt-multi-fandom

Some tags don't work 😮‍💨

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Discipline

Series masterlist

Part five

Summary: Jake is sent to teach you discipline within the rules of the Omaticaya, from which you are constantly rebelling. Except...he finds unorthodox methods that get you to behave.

Warnings: SMUT!!! Mean!Jake again because I love him. Degradation, little bit of praise. Daddy kink. Dacryphilia. Rough, rough, rough sex. I don't wanna spoil anything, so that's it babes! Happy reading!

Special shoutout to @touchedflowers for the little kiss detail!! And to the anon that gave me the idea of reader trailing after Jake for all the attention be gives her!! Ily babes!! I hope my writing lives up to your expectations!! ❤️❤️❤️

Jake knows. He knows he fucked up. His lust took over, his mind hazy from you begging for his cock, and he just made tsaheylu. And what's worse, you caved. Maybe part of him was hoping you'd deny him, maybe he was looking for a sign that you didn't want him like he wanted you.

Instead, you just confirmed all his hopes and fears and dreams and—

You were now his.

And Jake can't think of anything else.

He'll wake up from his sleep, sweating and shaking, his cock hard at the ghost sensation of your pleasure through the bond that haunts him in his sleep. He can hear you moaning in his ear, can feel your soft pussy around his cock, can feel your body underneath his.

He's jacked off too many times to the memory of you calling him daddy, to the way you begged for him, to how you'd said it hurts and pleaded for him to help you.

You're driving him crazy. You've had an obvious effect on him, and it's on display for everyone to see.

And what's more, you've been clearly affected by him as well. You're much more tame now. Much more calm. Much kinder.

But...only around him. And, lately, you'd been around him much more often.

You follow him around like a lost puppy. Whenever he sits somewhere, whenever he goes somewhere, you're there. And everyone sees it.

But only Jake knows why it is.

And it stirs something primal in him, something almost dangerous from how intense and powerful it is.

He gets used to it, looks forward to your presence. Wherever he is, he unconsciously looks for you. Whenever you aren't around, he can't focus on anything but you, you, you and your whereabouts, you and your big doe eyes and your plump lips and—

He even starts dragging you along. Everywhere he goes, he'll look for you and take you with him. In the smallest things, like a visit to the stream to bathe, or even during big hunts, he'll have you by his side.

And the rest of the clan assume it's his way of integrating you into the people.

Au contraire, it's his way of showing them you are his.

Ever since the night of the celebration, you've been all Jake can think about. It's been days since he's actually taken you out to train, just the two of you, and the need to fuck you is invading his senses.

So on a rainy afternoon where Jake finds you beading together a few bracelets, he decides he needs you here and now.

“Girl,” Jake calls as he approaches you, his amber eyes predatory.

You turn to him, eyes big, pupils wide, ears pinning back against your head. “Jake,” you say softly, and he can hear your heart racing, can smell your excitement.

“It's been too long since you've shot a few arrows,” he tells you as you put the bracelets in a small basket. “I hope your aim's improved.”

You rise to your feet, tail swinging from side to side with anticipation, and follow him into the forest.

He finds a small spot, hidden under a few trees, the ground soft and mossy, perfectly secluded and private.

Jake hands you the bow he'd had hung around his chest, a single arrow in the quiver.

You take the weapon, gaze soft and careful as you watch him.

He nods at a small tree, the trunk thin, a difficult target. “You've got one chance to hit it,” he informs you. “'f you miss it, you'll be punished.”

Your ears fall back, face softly contorting into concentration and you nod. You poise the arrow, pull it back, and take a deep breath as you aim the sharp tip.

Jake studies your pose. Flawless. Your elbows at the perfect height, back straight, muscles tensed and strong. Jake knows you'll hit the tree without an issue. You've perfected your stance. But you're still not able to manage distractions, and he's here to train you, after all.

So what better to do than distract you the best way he knows how?

Jake's fingers, thick and calloused, caress your lower thigh, sliding up to the plush flesh of your ass. You jerk slightly, gait faltering as Jake's body presses against your back.

“The arrow, girl,” he reminds you as his hand slides between your thighs, reaching your folds and tracing a finger up your slit. He's quick to latch his thumb onto your clit, circling it with practiced perfection.

“Right,” you murmur, aiming carefully, doing your best to ignore Jake's fingers as one slides into you, making you gasp softly.

You aim. Aim. Aim...

Jake's finger curls inside of you, relishing in the sensation of your growing arousal as you begin to drip on his fingers.

Eyes fluttering shut, you release the arrow. Hoping, praying, begging...

You hear the arrow land on its target, the sharp tip sinking into the wood with ease.

Jake raises an eyebrow, impressed. “You lucky thing,” he chuckles as you drop the bow to the ground and lean back against his body. Jake's other hand moves to your waist, caressing the skin there, wandering up the center of your torso to your breasts.

“Be honest with me, girl,” he says. “Did y'aim or was it luck, huh?”

You giggle softly, braid itching with the need to make tsaheylu with him again. “Was both,” you admit quietly.

He chuckles. “Mhmm, I thought as much.” He licks up the side of your neck, tasting the salty skin, inhaling your rich, earhty scent. “Still,” he says. “You hit the target. And imma reward you f'r it, girl.”

“Please,” you reply, breathless. “Daddy, please.”

Jake groans at the way you say it, his cock stiffening. “Fuck, y'know I can't say no when y'ask so nicely, baby.”

Jake pulls his fingers out of you. “Please, Daddy. Please, please.”

“Easy, girl,” he says, voice rough as he leads you to lie on your back, ensuring to place you on the soft mossy ground. He climbs on top of you, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. His hands trace your skin, committing it to memory, fingers savoring the sensation of your soft body beneath his.

His lips reach your lower stomach, the edge of your loincloth, and he looks up at you.

Jake is quick to discover how much he loves looking up at your body like this. Your stomach rising and falling with heavy breaths, your breasts slightly exposed, nipples peeking between the beads of your top.

He kisses your inner thighs, nipping at the skin, groaning every time you gasp and squeal. His hands expertly undo your loincloth and he tosses it aside.

His large hands push your thighs apart, spreading your legs so he can admire your cunt, already wet for him. He leans his face toward your center, breathing in your scent, before he softly blows air on your clit.

You mewl softly, one of your hands falling to Jake's head, grabbing onto his hair. “Daddy,” you whine, big eyes glancing down at him.

“Yeah, I know what y'want,” Jake chuckles. “Relax. Be patient for me, girl. Yeah?”

You groan, nodding. “M'kay.”

Jake runs his tongue between your folds, tasting you, that primal thing within him growling in pleasure.

Mine, he thinks to himself. Mine, mine, all mine.

And then he's eating you out, tongue maneuvering into your entrance before wandering up to your clit and flicking against it. You whine and shake, hips rolling against his face, one hand digging into Jake's hair as the other one digs into the soft soil beneath.

Jake sucks on your clit, making you jerk, before he sucks your folds, his eyes glancing up at your face to cherish your reaction.

“Daddy,” you whimper, thighs spread wide, legs quaking. “Fuck!”

Jake is delighted with the way you react. He loves to see your eyes roll into the back of your head, loves the way your body writhes, loves how you recoil from the immense pleasure.

He's made you cry enough from being too rough and too mean. He wonders if he can make you cry from overstimulation.

Jake angles his face so that his tongue slips into you, caressing your cunt from the inside while his nose finds your clit. He's drowning in the feeling of you, in the scent and the taste of your pussy, in the sensation of your thighs tight around his head, in the digging of your nails into his scalp.

And the sounds you make. Fucking God, you're going to be the end of him.

Every little whimper, every whine, every mewl, every moan—they're all quick to fall from your lips, little sounds of pleasure that continously grow louder the more he keeps going. And the little pleads you beg—

“Daddy, Daddy please!”

“There! Daddy, there!”

“'s too much, Daddy. Please, 's too much!”

And he wishes he could talk to you back, wishes he could chuckle into your ear and whisper, “Say that again, girl. Daddy can't hear ya when you moan over your words.” Wishing he could see your face redden with embarrassment, wishing he could get you even more flustered by teasing and mocking you, but his mouth is too occupied on your pussy right now, and he doesn't plan on letting up any time soon.

Your taste is sweet, a mix of the flowers you're surrounded by daily and the essence of you. That unmistakable, unique thing that identifies you. As Jake tastes it on his tongue, he thinks of your big eyes, your delicate hands, your long eyelashes, your pouting lips, your ears folded back in submission...He thinks of his girl, his girl and everything she is and everything he likes about her.

Everything he likes about you. That's what comes to his mind when he tastes you.

“Mm! Daddy!” you gasp, your orgasm coiling low in your stomach. “Fuck! Ah, Daddy, please!”

Jake's hands are on your thighs, his fingers roughly massaging the flesh there as he keeps his eyes on your face. He knows you're close; the way your slick is coating his lips and his chin is tell-tale enough for how near your orgasm is.

He is eating you out. Sucking on your skin, licking all over, nuzzling his nose into your clit, biting you where he can, groaning and gasping. And the way your back arches and the way you moan and your shaking limbs have him gyrating his hips against the ground, looking for any amount of release from the tight arousal that stings through his hard cock.

You can feel your orgasm take over your body, white-hot hands gripping at every single one of your nerves, pushing you to the very limit and then crashing you down into an ocean of ecstasy.

You cry out, body trembling as the pleasure slowly dissipates, the intensity of your orgasm weakening you.

But Jake keeps going. Like a starved man, like he's never had a meal such as your cunt, like he'll never be able to do it again. He tastes your orgasm as it gushes out of you, and it only makes him more feral.

He swallows every last drop of your slick, feeling it dribble down his chin and down his neck, loving how it glistens on his swollen lips and on his cheeks.

Your hips pull away from his mouth as he continues his attack on your cunt. “No, no, 's too much, Daddy. Please, no!” you beg, trying to push him off of you, but your strength has been stolen by your orgasm, and, anyway, Jake is stronger than you, so it's no issue for him to hold you down as he continues with his meal.

You're quick to go under, the pleasure too much for you to deny, and you can feel another orgasm building within you.

“No, no,” you're begging, but you don't really mean it. You really, really want him to keep going, even if your body feels like it'll split in two if you come again. “Daddy!”

Jake pulls away from you for a second, replacing his mouth with one of his hands to snap, “Shut it, slut. Daddy knows what's good for ya, and he's doin' it. Y'either take all of it or y'won't get anything. Understand?”

You mewl, wiggling your hips against Jake's hand. “Yes! Yes, Daddy!”

Satisfied, Jake returns his mouth to your pussy, your taste making him groan. He could do this all day, he decides. He literally would never get tired of eating you out. Your taste, your scent, the feel of you beneath him, they're things he'll never get enough of. Not now that he's gotten a taste.

Your second orgasm washes over you much faster than the first, and with double the strength. It wrecks you and whatever was left of your working mind. You cannot pronounce a word other than daddy as you come down from your high.

You're seeing starts, little black dots adorning your vision, and you can barely register the feeling of Jake's lips still going down on your puffy cunt.

The man is incessant. Famished. His enthusiasm and lust not even close to having had enough of you. He doesn't think he'll ever have enough of you.

As you struggle to recover from your orgasm, your body slowly realizes that the unbearable pleasure is still being delivered to your abused pussy, and you whimper, throwing your head back.

“'s too much! Too much! Too much!” you whine, tears glistening on the corners of your eyes. “Daddy, please, I can't 'nymore!” you cry, but make no move to push him off of your pussy.

Jake's hips are rutting into the ground right now, and he's groaning and grunting at the little amount of friction against his stiff cock and swollen balls. The sounds send vibrations up your spine, causing your back to arch and your muscles to go taut.

“I can't!” you cry, sobbing, tears spilling down your cheeks and to the ground below. “Daddy, I-I can't! Can't! I'm—'s too much! I can't!”

But Jake knows you can. He knows you have it in you. He just has to coax it out.

He rubs his hands over your lower stomach, over your womb, applying precise pressure and massaging the soft flesh.

It's something about the way he does it, something about the way he looks at you while he does, something about the way he pushes down onto your womb that makes you gasp and shudder, your eyelids fluttering shut as another orgasm rips through you, faster than the first two, and much more intense as well.

And when Jake keeps going, when he refuses to give up, it happens. You squirt all over his face, soaking yourself in the process, having a fourth consecutive orgasm that leaves you shaking.

It's exactly what Jake wanted. He finally unlatches his mouth from your abused cunt, licking over his lips, using the back of his hand to wipe your slick from his face.

You're breathing is crazy uneven, cut into choppy gasps because of your sobs as tears streak down your face.

“I knew you could do it,” Jake tells you, grinning, as he kisses your lower stomach. “Did y'like it, girl?”

You nod, still crying, still shaking. “Yes, Daddy. So good,” you reply, sniffing. “So good.”

Jake chuckles. “'nd you said it was too much. Clearly, it wasn't the case, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you reply, opening your eyes, glancing at him.

Jake smirks at you. While you watch, he removes his loincloth, revealing his hard cock, the tip a dark blue stained with dripping precum. He doesn't miss the look of excitement that crosses over your features at the sight.

Jake runs the head of his cock up between your swollen folds, gathering your slick, shuddering at how warm and wet you are.

You hum, legs spreading wider as he aligns himself with your entrance.

Jake thrusts into you roughly, positioning himself on top of you as he fucks you. You whine, wrapping your legs around Jake's waist, eyelashes wet with your tears.

Jake's cock slides in and out of you with ease, the thick, bulbous head kissing your cervix with every thrust.

“Daddy,” you whimper, hands rising to hold onto his arms, nails digging into his muscles. “Daddy.”

“What d'y'want, girl?” he questions, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, licking over your racing pulse. “I know y'well enough. I know y'want somethin'. C'mon, spit it out. What 's it?”

“Kiss me, Daddy,” you beg, body trembling with each thrust. “Daddy, will you kiss me, please?”

Jake's taken aback for a second, his ears folding back against his head. “What?” he asks, unsure if he heard you right.

You're oblivious to his confusion. “Kiss. Kiss. Please, Daddy.”

“Y'want me to kiss you?”

“Mhmm! Please, Daddy! Kiss!”

And, fuck, if Jake's heart doesn't flutter at the request.

But kissing you...it's something so personal. So tender, so sweet. It's something that promises something beyond lust, something beyond you just being his plaything. If he kisses you...if he kisses you like you want him to...

It'll fuck things even more, he thinks. It'll push me too far down the rabbit hole. Haven't I fallen deep enough?

Oh, but the look in your eyes, your gentle demeanor, the way you've been following him around these past few days.

The way he's needed you at his side these past few days...

One kiss won't hurt anyone, he figures. It's just a kiss.

He knows that's a lie as he lowers his mouth to yours, his veins swimming with excitement, and he ghosts his lips over your own. You gasp, back arching, little breaths escaping your parted lips.

And then he kisses you. His mouth crashes down against yours, tongue parting your lips to wander into your mouth. He licks over your tongue, savors your spit, and then drags his sharp teeth over your lower lip.

You're delighted. You whine and gasp, body trembling.

Jake swallows all of your moans, your sounds muffled by his kiss, your body on the brim of pleasure.

You're tight around Jake's cock, making him weak. And the tighter you clench around him, the more he drags against the spongy spot within you that you love so much. It's not long before you're quivering, your little whimpers rolling onto Jake's tongue.

Jake smiles through the pleasure, you can feel his grin against your mouth. “Goddamn,” he grunts. “You're too tight, sweet. Gotta relax a little f'r me, yeah?”

You sigh, attempting to loosen around Jake, but the feeling of his lips on yours, his cock stretching you...fuck, it's too difficult to focus.

“Relax,” he repeats, kissing the tip of your nose, your jaw. “Shh, it's okay. Relax, girl.”

He caresses the side of your face gently, pushing your hair out of your face. He kisses your lips tenderly, slowing his thrusts, admiring the way you tremble underneath him.

At that, you loosen up slightly. And Jake takes the chance and he begins pounding into you. You squeal at the sudden increase in pace and force, nails dragging over his arms, as tears start prickling the corners of your eyes again.

“Atta girl,” Jake grunts. “Yeah, you're so good. Such a good little slut.”

You moan. “Daddy! Daddy—tsaheylu! Please, fuck, please let's make tsaheylu,” you beg as your queue itches with the need to feel Jake's tendrils.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “You want to?”

“So bad, Daddy!” you complain. “Need y'so bad!”

Jake chuckles as he pauses his thrusts. He reaches over his shoulder for his braid and you struggle to grab yours.

“Can y'beg for me, girl?” he asks, holding his queue out for you, almost tempting you with it. “Can you beg Daddy to give you what you want?”

You whimper. “Daddy! Please, tsaheylu! I need to feel you, Daddy. Please! I need it s'bad! Fuck!”

Jake runs his nose up the side of your neck. “You wanna say aloud who you belong to, girl? Wanna remind me whose slut you are?”

“Yours, Daddy!” you gasp, eagerly. “I'm all yours! I'm your whore, your slut! Please, Daddy! Gimme-gimme tsaheylu! I need you, please!”

Jake chuckles, meeting your braid with his, allowing the tendrils to connect.

You gasp, whining, eyes widening and pupils dilating. Jake softly bites your jaw and demands, “What do you say when daddy gives you what you asked for?”

“Thank you,” you moan. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“Yeah, that's right,” Jake says as he continues his thrusting. “Daddy treats you like the spoiled brat you are, doesn't he? Daddy gives you ev'rything y'ask for. Aren't you gonna thank me for that, too?”

“Yes!” you whine, back arching, toes curling. “Yes! Fuck! Thank you, Daddy! F'r everything! For giving me what I want!”

“Thank me for treating you like the whore you are,” he orders, dragging his hips against yours, ensuring he rubs your gummy walls in all the ways you like.

“Daddy! Thank you for treating me like the whore I am!” you whimper, eyes fluttering, lower stomach clenching.

“Thank me for giving you my cock,” he instructs, kissing your neck, licking your jaw. His thrusts are merciless, almost cruel. He bruises your insides, relishes in the way you wince as the pleasure becomes too much.

“Thank you for giving me Daddy's cock!” you moan, helplessly trying to match the movement of your hips to his mean thrusts.

“Thank me for making you mine,” he says, groaning as you bite his collarbone. He can feel your ecstasy through the bond, can feel how close you are to another orgasm.

“Thank you, Daddy, for making me yours! For making me your whore!” you oblige, shaking from head to toe.

“Thank me in advance for making you come, yeah?” he tells you, your whimpers and trembling body giving you away.

“Daddy! Daddy, thank you for making me come!” you gasp, the pleasure too much, the connection with Jake too much. “Fuck! Like that! Oh, fuck!”

As Jake keeps his pace steady and kisses your lips again, you finally come. Quivering and crying, your fifth orgasm crashes you, leaving you breathless, truly fucked dumb.

Jake's hips stutter as you tighten around him, his orgasm rising to the surface. He delights in how wet you are, in the sounds of your pussy as he fucks into it.

“Fuck, Daddy, y're s'good!” you gasp. “Oh, please, come inside of me. Fill me with your cum! Please, Daddy!” you beg.

“Ah, fuck!” Jake grunts, his cum spilling into you. White, hot, thick ropes that taint your skin and make you shudder. “Fuck, I love this pussy,” he mumbles against your ear, placing little kisses all over your face.

He's about to pull out of you when his eyes meet yours and he sees you. Really Sees you. Something about those big, doe eyes. About your swollen lips. About your unsure gaze...

It makes him melt on the inside. Makes him soft and all he wants to do is hold you and protect you and—

No, he won't say that last one. It's too early to say it...

He kisses your tender lips, gently, caringly, and whispers against your mouth, “My perfect girl.”

You let him kiss you, and he doesn't let up. Not for a long while. Not until eclipse approaches and you two have to get back.

Only then does he pull out of you, gets up and dresses you before dressing himself.

You two walk back to the Hometree side by side.

@who-is-ej @jake-sullys-whore @sweetllamaparadise @erenjaegerwifee @kamcrazy123

[fantasyquests]

Rewatching Season 1: Some thoughts on episode 8 1. Lifting the veil. Two identities are revealed in this episode: we learn that Halbrand is Sauron and that the Stranger is one of the Istari. Nori knows intuitively that the Stranger has come to Middle Earth to help, and while she does not have a precise understanding of what it means, we are led to conclude that he has been sent by the Valar to counteract Sauron's evil. The Mystics promise the Stranger that the veil which prevents him from remembering his past will soon weaken. Halbrand/Sauron uses a similar metaphor when he says that what he and Celebrimbor are doing in the forge "softens the boundaries" between the seen and the unseen world. It is interesting that when Celebrimbor uses Sauron's phrases "power of the unseen world" and "power over flesh" he believes that they are his own. When I first watched the episode, I thought that this was just Brimby's vanity, that he lied about it and claimed those were his ideas because he didn't want to admit he learnt them from a human. But now I think that at this point Celebrimbor is already bewitched, and that Sauron has implanted these phrases into his mind. In Season 1, Celebrimbor is not one of the characters through whose POV we follow the story, so we don't get an insight into his inner world; but the scenes with Galadriel show us what it looks like when Sauron messes with somebody's head. He can create an intricate illusion, make a person believe they are somewhere else or at another point in time, and assume the visage of a loved one, as in the scene where he makes Galadriel believe that she is talking to Finrod. We can only conjecture what is happening in Celebrimor's mind, but I believe that from this point onward his actions and thoughts are no longer his own.

2. True creation requires sacrifice. This is a phrase first used by Celebrimbor in episode 2, and he repeats it now in order to convince Galadriel to surrender Finrod's dagger and allow it to be melted so that its silver and gold can combine with mithril. Symbolically, it means that Galadriel needs to sacrifice her urge for vengeance, and work instead for the well-being of all Middle Earth. The dagger has been a part of her storyline from the very beginning, when Finrod used it to lift the soaked paper boat in Valinor. In Galadriel's hands, it represented her obsessive need to hunt down and destroy Sauron - but ironically, it was also a means which Sauron used to get an insight into her past and manipulate her. That she is ready to give it up now is a clear sign of personal growth. Elrond will likewise make a symbolical sacrifice by adding the piece of mithril (for him, a token of Durin's friendship) into the mixture. It may appear that at this point, Celebrimbor makes no sacrifice, but we know that in S2 his own life will be sacrificed by Anatar in the process of making (or obtaining) the rings.

3. The road which every man must walk. Two leaders die in this episode: Tar Palantir, the king of Numenor, and Sadoc, the trail-finder of Harfoots. It is interesting that the two communities use similar metaphors when talking about death: Pharazon speaks about the road "which makes an end of every man who walks it", whereas Sadoc announces that he will be "wandering off-trail". However, in spite of this apparent similarity, their views on death are rather different. We know that Numenoreans will become obsessed with death, mortality and finding the means to transcend it, which eventually leads to their downfall. In LOTR there is also a great speech delivered by Faramir where he describes this obsession, which the rulers of Gondor have also retained:

"Death was ever present, because the Numenoreans still... hungered after endless life unchanging. Kings made tombs more splendid than houses of the living, and counted old names in the rolls of their descent dearer than the names of sons. Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry; in secret chambers withered men compounded strong elixirs, or in high cold towers asked questions of the stars."

In the Harfoot communitiy, there is a much healthier attitude to death and the transience of one's existence. Sadoc is mourned and lovingly remembered, but there is no obsession. A new trail-finder is established and the caravan moves on. If the Harfoots even think about immortality, they find it in their ability to love.