#was I able to write the entire thing without looking any of it up I mean yes

[cdbabymp3]

part one ― telling young dad!hamzah you're pregnant

notes ; established relationship, reader is 20 & hamzah is 22, unplanned pregnancy, angst, tw // anxiety attack (pls be careful reading baes)

disclaimer ; i want to say real quick that being a young parent is in no way a bad thing. literally half of my family are/were young parents (#🇲🇽), so i've seen the beauty with it but also how quickly your life changes. it's terrifying and not always easy to accept at first, so i feel like it's important to reflect that in my writing. everyone's experience is different and everyone views motherhood differently ! pls remember this is an au and entirely fictional !!!

you stare at the positive pregnancy test until your eyes started to burn. finally blinking back hot tears, you set it down atop the bathroom counter.

how could this happen?

you and hamzah were always extremely careful. it was almost a joke how on him you were about wearing a condom and how punctual you were about taking birth control. when you two went grocery shopping and there'd be a baby screaming and crying in your aisle, you always said a silent prayer that you didn't have to deal with that any time soon―or even maybe at all. you didn't dislike the idea of motherhood, however it always a topic you were quick to change. you never felt especially maternal, but it was deeper than that. it was your own self-doubt about being able to care for someone else. when your cousin let you hold her newborn baby, you froze up, worried you'd drop him or he'd start to wail. everyone around you thought you were overreacting, but you can't help it. how are you meant to care for something so small, something so fragile, when you can barely take care of yourself?

you're fully spiraling now, whole body trembling and buzzing as you slide down against the wall. you can't see straight, things keep zooming in and out. desperately trying to find stability, you white knuckle the bathtub, heaving shallow breaths. it feels like someone is trying to choke you out, but won't put you out of your misery. the mascara mixed with your salty tears stings your eyes and stains your flushed cheeks. you close your eyes, trying focus on slowing your breathing, but it's no use. it's like your heart is beating in your ears the way it pounds like a jackhammer, hot and clamorous―yet, you start to break out in a cold sweat.

"y/n? babe?" hamzah calls out from the bedroom, setting his car keys down on the dresser and walking over to the bathroom where the door is cracked open. he slowly enters trying to find you, eyes immediately flicking to where you sit by the tub. "oh my god, y/n!" he rushes down to you, picking up your trembling body and setting you on top of the toilet. he keeps both hands firmly on your shoulders, trying to anchor you.

"i-h-hamzah-i'm-i-" you stammer out, trying to reach for the test to show him, but he coos softly, wanting to keep you still so you don't topple over.

"what? what happened, baby? what's wrong?" he asks, trying to read your face as he notices your eyes are locked on what sits on the counter. he frowns, confused, looking over and seeing the test. his stomach drops, quickly reaching over and picking it up. he reads it over a couple times just to make sure his mind isn't playing tricks on him. he manages to rip his eyes away from it, looking at you. his heart breaks a little at the sight. you poor thing, you're absolutely petrified. he sees your bottom lip quiver, your beautiful eyes going red and spilling heavy tears. there's a beat of silence before he takes a deep breath and sets down the test.

"i'm so fucking sorry, hamzah." you whisper out shamefully, swallowing back a sob.

"hey, no....don't say that." he shakes his head, crouching down in front of you and caressing your thigh, "what do you have to be sorry for, huh? i'm the one who did this to you."

without even trying, you let out a weak giggle. even in times like this, he knew how to ease the tension just enough. he was just happy to see your smile for a moment.

"we're always so careful-how?-i-i don't even know-" trying to make sense of this, you ramble.

"i know...it's okay, it's okay...shh," he rubs your thigh some more, trying to keep you from getting worked up again, "baby, you're still shaking. you gotta breathe, okay? like this, watch me."

you nod, following his breathing in....and out....in....and out. it takes a couple tries, but steadily your heart rate starts to calm down. you're still fucking terrified, but more ready to speak coherently. "what do we do?" you ask him, wiping your cheek.

he takes another deep breath, thumb stroking your skin as he speaks, "well, that's up to you. it's your choice."

"yeah, but....we can't actually have baby right now." you tell him matter-of-factly, waiting for him to agree but to your surprise he stays quiet. "right?" you try him again, but second pass and he avoids your eyes. a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "hamzah...."

he looks up at you with a little shrug to defend himself, "i think we could make it work."

"that's not funny, c'mon." you swear he's joking, but his earnest gaze doesn't falter. he's being dead serious. "no-oh my god?? hamzah, no....are you being serious?" you laugh at him and his ridiculous notion.

"i mean, a lot would change, yeah. but....i think we could do it." he speaks with confidence and you're honestly baffled, still on the fence.

"how?" you challenge him.

he sighs, thinking it over for a second, "i don't know, we'd figure it out."

you scoff, "this isn't something you just 'figure out'. this is being responsible for another human. you think you're ready for that? because i'm fucking not. i almost just suffocated merely finding out that i'm pregnant―the baby's not even here yet, hamzah. and i don't know the first thing about being a good mom. i don't know anything. what happens when they're not sleeping through the night? or when they're sick with a fever at 2 in the morning? or when they fall and get hurt? or when they're upset about something at school, but they won't tell me?.....how? how am i supposed to know what to do?" you're crying again, voice shaking as you raise your volume for him to understand, "how, hamzah?"

he stands silently, pulling you with up with him, enveloping your body in a hug as he rubs your back. you're hesitant to give in, but his skin on yours provides a comfort you can only get from him. you nestle into his broad chest, allowing yourself a moment's peace. you can hear his heart beating, the thrum elated and swift.

he speaks into your hair, "look, i know you're scared―i'm scared too, believe me. i don't want you to think i don't understand the weight of this because i do." taking your face into his palms, "and you're right, we're not gonna have all the answers all the time.....but, i know you....and i know us....if anyone can do this, it's us."

you tear up again, but this time it's not out of fear or hostility. he's right. the love you have for each other is there. he has faith in you and you never doubt his devotion. it's all there. as scary as it is, you're not alone. how could you ever think that you were? he's always been there. on your great days and your shittiest. through whatever life brings, he's there and will continue to be there. only now, he's there for you and the life you bring into this world. he says he knows you, but you know him too. and you know he means every word.

"okay....okay, let's do this, let's figure it out." you say readily, muffled against his sweatshirt.

he pulls back from the hug, gauging your expression to make sure you're 100% certain. you smile, nodding reassuringly. his face lights up, pulling you into the hug once more and whispering to himself against your head in disbelief, "our own little family."

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @nativegirltapes @etherealval @thatmartinkitten + lmk if u wanna be added !!!!

[mermaidlighthouse]

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

.

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.

[benegesseritofficial]

The effects of face paint on Harrowhark's psyche

I've now cosplayed Gideon Nav 3 times, with my wife along as Harrow every time. Naturally, this has included full face paint for both of us each time and I have some thoughts.

Let me start by asserting that everything Muir writes in TLT about the face paint is accurate. Rubbing off your lips first, smearing into gray where the black and white meet, the way sweat makes it ooze but not run. I can't say if Muir (a known Homestuck) ever cosplayed as a troll, but I'm positive she tested out the practicality of the skull face paint or otherwise has first hand experience with extensive use of grease paint. Also, the way she describes normal people flinching when they see you is spot on.

I've noticed while putting on the make up that once most of my skin is covered, any flesh tones sticking out start to become unsettling. Specifically, the red/pink of the inner mouth and around the eyes jump out upsettingly. Every time I've done skull paint I find myself meticulously trying to patch over these edges of skin, despite knowing that it's inside skin that Shouldn't Have Make Up On It. Once my face is monochrome, I don't want to be able to see a scrap of real human under there. Smiling, or otherwise opening your mouth wide enough to see the pink, looks UNSETTLING. My own skin causes the uncanny valley effect. You see where this is going. In NtN we learn Harrowhark disassociates often enough that Crux isn't surprised or concerned to see "Harrow" insisting she's someone else. Obviously this is due to her schizophrenia, and perhaps trauma besides. But it doesn't account for every aspect of why Harrow's "like that." On her most lucid days Harrow ignores her body to the point of sweating blood and passing out. She goes entire days without eating. She thinks of herself as a skeleton unfortunately covered in flesh. She sleeps in her paint.

All of which is heinous, but that last one has stuck with me. From age 13-18 I barely glanced down while I showered and whatever I saw I basically blocked out. I wore underwear and a bra under my pajamas to sleep every night. I was going through the wrong puberty, "my body was in open rebellion" as I liked to say at the time, and the only way to cope was to bind it down and pretend it wasn't happening. By Gideon's narration in HtN one gets the impression most nuns of the Ninth are putting their paint on after breakfast and taking it off when they get home. It's not even expected the average person wears it every time they leave the house. But Harrow regularly only takes her paint off in order to redo it. I suspect a combination of being the most brainwashed person in her own cult, knowing how she was conceived, and the regular disassociation make it very difficult for Harrow to conceptualize that she actually lives in a body. If she faced that fact head on she'd have to ask why it so often feels someone else is using her body. She'd have to cope with owning this body, being a part of this body, that was bought with the blood of 200 children who should have been her peers and friends. Instead she pretends it's an object on loan from them. And she does it with 10 layers of black petticoats and so much paint she never has to see her own skin.

Which brings me to the final thing I've noticed wearing full face paint. It dehumanizes you to yourself and everyone around you. I couldn't read my own expressions in a mirror. Even people who understood and were delighted with my cosplay were visibly nervous talking to me. You don't look like a person. Studies have shown that faces wearing heavy make up are ranked as harder to read and perceived as less empathetic. It's a particularly insidious trap of patriarchy that many women find self esteem in wearing make up, while that very act makes everyone around them treat them more callously. And, worst of all, if you stop wearing it once you're used to it, your naked face is shocking. You look sick due to your colors being less bold and the normal small flaws of your face appear unbearably ugly. With all this in mind, Harrow has trapped herself in a feedback loop of not being able to witness her own face and becoming more and more disgusted with the flesh and person underneath whenever she has to glance at it.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.

I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.

Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭

Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction

Did he miss an anniversary?

Date night?

Hayley’s vet appointment?

He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.

So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.

‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.

‘What?’ Dick said.

‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.

‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.

‘Yep.’ You said.

‘No catch.’

‘None.’

‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.

You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’

Damian is unfazed.

He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.

Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.

‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.

‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.

‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.

You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.

‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.

‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.

‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.

Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.

Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.

He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.

You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.

‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.

You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.

‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.

‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.

Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.

His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.

You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.

That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.

‘I love you.’ You said.

‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.

You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’

Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.

‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.

‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.

‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.

‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.

[maidragoste]

Hiiii!!!! I (18) was wondering if you could write a Jace x his mothers handmaiden reader, where they have a secret relationship 🤙🏼🤙🏼❤️❤️

anon, sorry for taking so long to write your request. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading 🥰💖💖

btw it wasn't clarified so I didn't write reader as a low-born handmaiden (that is, the ones who clean the urinals and that) but as a high-born one.

likes, comments and REBLOGS are always greatly appreciated 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

A frustrated sigh left your lips as you tried to break free from Jacaerys's grip only for the prince to press your body even closer to his so you couldn't get out of bed. You turned to demand that your lover let you go but you remained silent, watching Jace's face. Even though he had his eyes closed you were sure by the lazy smile on his face that he was awake. He looked beautiful. He always looked beautiful but these moments only belonged to you. You wanted to wake up every day next to him but you couldn't. Your duty was to Princess Rhaenyra, you cannot allow yourself to be distracted. Besides, if she found out that you were having a secret relationship with her beloved son, she would throw you out and your family would be very disappointed in you for having wasted the opportunity that the princess gave you to choose you as one of her handmaidens. Not only that but your reputation would be ruined, if rumors spread that you no longer possess your virtue then it would be impossible for you to get a husband. You are a fool to continue with this romance, someday Jace will marry a girl from an even more important house than yours and you will have to sit silently watching everything. There is no happy ending to this.

“My prince, I have to go,” you said, hoping he would stop playing dumb and let you go.

“No,” he complained, lengthening the “o.” Your place is at my side” he moved his face closer to kiss you but you moved, he tried again but you avoided him again “What's wrong” he asked, letting you go so he could sit properly on the bed.

"It's late, I should go. At any moment your mother will wake up, I have duties to do” you responded without looking at him as you got up. You didn't even have a chance to look for your shoes when he tugged on your arm making you return to the bed. He turns you around so that you both face each other.

“What is wrong?” asked again the prince. “Talk to me, please, my lady,” he asked, looking at you with concern while gently taking your face in his hands.

“I think we should stop seeing each other, my prince.” The uncertainty in your voice was clear but still, your words were a dagger for Jacaerys.

“Why?” Your heart ached as you heard the confusion and anguish in his voice. “. I don't understand, yesterday we were fine”

“Yes, we were. But we won't always be. Someday you will have to get married and you will leave me. “I think the easiest thing for my heart is for us to finish our thing now,” you said, closing your eyes without being able to see the sadness in his eyes anymore. If you continued seeing him you were afraid you would go back on your decision.

Your heart skipped a beat when you stopped feeling Jacaerys's hands. You froze as you listened to him get out of bed and get dressed. You should take the opportunity to leave, it's probably what he wanted but you couldn't move. You really had finished everything.

You opened your eyes as you felt the prince's hands in your hair. Your heart raced as he carefully untangled the knots. Once he finished, he kissed your shoulder. “Finish getting ready so we can go talk to my mother.”

“We?” you repeated.

"Yes. I have no intention of marrying anyone but you,” Jacaerys said calmly as if his words wouldn't change your entire world.

“Jacaerys, marrying me is an idiotic move, my house is not that important, and the lords” your chatter was interrupted by the prince's lips capturing yours. You should be firmer and move away, but you can't, so you surrender to enjoying the taste of your lover's lips, feeling more loved than ever.

"I love you and if my mother wants me to be her heir, she will have to accept it," Jace declared and there was no room for argument in his voice. “You are the only wife I intend to take,” he promised before kissing you again.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog   @natashaobo @watercolorskyy  @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @yn-jackson

hotd masterlist

[handweavers]

something that comes up for me over and over is a deep frustration with academics who write about and study craft but have little hands-on experience with working with that craft, because it leads to them making mistakes in their analysis and even labelling of objects and techniques incorrectly. i see this from something as simple as textiles on display in museums being labelled with techniques that are very obviously wrong (claiming something is knit when it's clearly crochet, woven when that technique could only be done as embroidery applied to cloth off-loom) to articles and books written about the history of various aspects of textiles making considerable errors when trying to describe basic aspects of textile craft-knowledge (ex. a book i read recently that tried to say that dyeing cotton is far easier than dyeing wool because cotton takes colour more easily than wool, and used that as part of an argument as to why cotton became so prominent in the industrial revolution, which is so blatantly incorrect to any dyer that it seriously harms the argument being made even if the overall point is ultimately correct)

the thing is that craft is a language, an embodied knowledge that crosses the boundaries of spoken communication into a physical understanding. craft has theory, but it is not theoretical: there is a necessary physicality to our work, to our knowledge, that cannot be substituted. two artisans who share a craft share a language, even if that language is not verbal. when you understand how a material functions and behaves without deliberate thought, when the material knowledge becomes instinct, when your hands know these things just as well if not better than your conscious mind does, new avenues of communication are opened. an embodied knowledge of a craft is its own language that is able to be communicated across time, and one easily misunderstood by those without that fluency. an academic whose knowledge is entirely theoretical may look at a piece of metalwork from the 3rd century and struggle to understand the function or intent of it, but if you were to show the same piece to a living blacksmith they would likely be able to tell you with startling accuracy what their ancient colleague was trying to do.

a more elaborate example: when i was in residence at a dye studio on bali, the dyer who mentored me showed me a bowl of shimmering grey mud, and explained in bahasa that they harvest the mud several feet under the roots of certain species of mangroves. once the mud is cleaned and strained, it's mixed with bran water and left to ferment for weeks to months.  he noted that the mud cannot be used until the fermentation process has left a glittering sheen to its surface. when layered over a fermented dye containing the flowers from a tree, the cloth turns grey, and repeated dippings in the flower-liquid and mud vats deepen this colour until it's a warm black. 

he didn't explain why this works, and he did not have to. his methods are different from mine, but the same chemical processes are occurring. tannins always turn grey when they interact with iron and they don't react to other additives the same way, so tannins (polyphenols) and iron must be fundamental parts of this process. many types of earthen clay contain a type of bacteria that creates biogenic iron as a byproduct, and mixing bran water with this mud would give the bacteria sugars to feast upon, multiplying, and producing more of this biogenic iron. when the iron content is high enough that the mud shimmers, applying this fermented mixture to cloth soaked in tannins would cause the iron to react with the tannin and finally, miraculously: a deep, living grey-black cloth.

in my dye studio i have dissolved iron sulphide ii in boiling water and submerged cloth soaked in tannin extract in this iron water, and watched it emerge, chemically altered, now deep and living grey-black just like the cloth my mentor on bali dyed. when i watched him dip cloth in this brown bath of fermented flower-water, and then into the shimmering mud and witness the cloth emerge this same shade of grey, i understand exactly what he was doing and why. embodied craft knowledge is its own language, and if you're going to dedicate your life to writing about a craft it would be of great benefit to actually "speak" that language, or you're likely to make serious errors.

the arrogance is not that different from a historian or anthropologist who tries to study a culture or people without understanding their written or spoken tongue, and then makes mistakes in their analysis because they are fundamentally disconnected from the way the people they are talking about communicate. the voyeuristic academic desire to observe and analyse the world at a distance, without participating in it. how often academics will write about social movements, political theory and philosophy and never actually get involved in any of these movements while they're happening. my issue with the way they interact with craft is less serious than the others i mentioned, but one that constantly bothers me when coming into contact with the divide between "those who make a living writing about a subject" and "those who make a living doing that subject"

[lovelettersfromluna]

Not Strong Enough

Summary: Rule number 1 of being best friends with a vampire. Never let them drink your blood.

an: I HEAR YOU ALL YELLING AT ME IM SORRY!! This took entirely too long to get to you guys, but it’s here now! Better late than never right?? Is this heavily inspired by twilight? Yes. Did I use a BoyGenius song as the title? It’s lesbian smut, obviously. Is Ellie going to be a brooding depressed vampire? Oh hell yeah. I hope you all like this! I’m a slut for anything supernatural so this was obvi very fun for me to write. As always, love you all so so much! Thanks for reading 🤍

Warnings: SMUT!!, MDNI!!, scissoring (if ur mad I’m doing another scissoring fic….idk what to tell you it’s hot), messy kissing, Ellie bites reader (outside of blood sucking), mentions of marking, mentions of bruises, mentions of blood, Ellie is kind of insufferable for a small bit but I promise it gets better, please lmk if I missed anything!

Read part 1 here!!

Ellie knew it was a bad idea from the very beginning.

She knew that she was too weak for you, even outside of sucking your blood. You were too fucking good for her, too much of a dream for Ellie to go and fuck up like she did.

Truth be told, Ellie expected all of it. She expected to get utterly addicted to you, she expected the blurred lines of your relationship to become even more blurred when she began sucking you dry of your life source, she even expected herself to lose control when she was in the act, humping and grinding your soft body like a wild fucking animal as if she had no control over herself.

She expected all of it, every single aspect that came with the territory, she knew was coming.

But the hardest part of it all? Was leaving you completely.

Because she knew the moment she felt herself lose control while she was on top of you that night in your apartment, she knew she needed to leave you. She needed to abandon you and your friendship for the greater good, for your sake.

Ellie knew that she wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for her. But that didn’t make the pain of not seeing you any less.

She thought she’d be able to do it at first, but the texts from you only reminded her of how much she loved your company, how obsessed she was with simply being around you.

She wound frown every time her phone went off, a low groan leaving her lips when she lifted it up to look at her screen, only to see it was from you.

Ellieeeeee

Where are you?

Haven’t seen u in the longest :((

Ellie can practically hear your pout in the way you text her. She knows you too well, and she knows that you aren’t handling her sudden disappearance well.

At this point, it’s been about two months since Ellie has seen you last? Maybe three? She stopped keeping count because it was driving her insane. It wasn’t even the blood supply that she missed, Ellie would go hungry ten times over, dying from starvation if it meant she could be around you without feeling she was robbing you of your life, ruining things that you were meant to experience because she was too fucking selfish.

Ellie misses you, and it pains her that she hasn’t been able to have you in so long.

Well…not entirely at least. She knew she’d lose her mind entirely if she couldn’t at least be around you for a few moments, so her usual nighttime visits become a bit more frequent when she decides she can’t be around you anymore. She’s a lot more careful when she does it though, knowing how sensitive you were to her presence. It was almost unbelievable how easily you’d woken up to her in your room in the past. She doesn’t know how she’d explain things if you woke up now, not having seen her in so long. So she’s extra aware of how much noise she makes.

Seeing you sleep is almost enough to keep Ellie’s demons at bay, the ones that screamed for you, yearned for you to be by her side, to have your warm skin pressed against her much colder one.

As per usual, she’s scaling up the brick wall of your apartment building, making her way up to your bedroom like thief in the night. You continue to leave your window open every night, and it breaks Ellie’s heart because she knows you’re doing it for her, most likely hoping she slips into your window as she usually does.

It means Ellie needs to be even more careful than she anticipated.

She doesn’t even dare to sit on your bed, standing in the corner of your room as she watches your chest rise and fall. She doesn’t even breathe, scared that the sound of it will wake you.

And she desperately wants to reach out and let her fingers run along your soft skin, desperate for the feeling that you always brought her when you’re near. It makes her fists balk at her sides as she practically itches to feel you, fighting back any and every thought that she had to touch you, if even for a moment.

But she doesn’t. Instead, he stays with you just before the sun rises. She knows it’s risky, and she knows she shouldn’t do it in the event that you wake up and see her. Even if she’s fast enough to dart out of your room before you can even call her name or turn the lights on, you’re too smart for that. You’d know what was happening before she can even begin to gaslight you into thinking it was simply a dream.

She can’t help herself, not when it comes to you. Seeing you sleep satisfies the burning feeling in her chest, the one that yearns so desperately for you, it’s enough to make her knees weak. It’s almost like you’re capable of evoking the same feelings she had when she was a human, when she was weak and stupid and felt nervous around women. Until you showed up, Ellie hadn’t experienced those feelings in a long time, she’d almost forgotten about them.

You always remind her though.

Like when she’s about to leave you, knowing she’s cutting it too close to the time you’re going to wake up and start your day. Her footsteps are practically silence, even against the old, creaky floorboards of your apartment.

She’s almost out of your window, one leg outside as she plants her foot against the fire escape when she hears it. You began mumbling in your sleep, tossing a bit, clearly bothered by whatever dream you were having. While this should’ve been the clearest sign for Ellie to leave as quickly as possible before your eyes opened a bit to see her, she doesn’t. Instead, she stays sat on your window sill, simply watching as you turn to face her, eyes still closed as you pout in your sleep.

If Ellie had a heart that was still beating, she’s sure it would’ve stopped. Because suddenly your mumbling is just clear enough for her to hear.

“Ellie….” You sigh out softly, barely loud enough for the undead girl to hear, but she does. Regardless of the city waking up below her, or the sound of your ceiling fan creaking about, she hears it. It makes her frown deeply, swallowing back the intense whimper that threatens to escape and echo throughout your room.

She isn’t sure if she’s ever left your room so quickly, the girls eyes going wide as she made the familiar path down the side of your building to your side walk.

Even when she got home that night, the vampire practically breaking the front door down of her apartment to get in, she couldn’t get the sound of your voice uttering her name so sweetly, calling out for her even in the depths of sleep that you were in, tugged so deeply by your dreams, you were still calling out for her.

Ellie knew that night, that she had to stay away from her. For both your sake, and her own.

And she’s right, because you were suffering just as much as Ellie was.

Ellie’s presence was always scarce, and while it bothered you a bit before you learned what she was, it made sense. She was a creature of the night, something that seemingly only existed in storybooks, coming to life and living the strange lifestyle that she did.

But you knew immediately that this was different.

The morning after you saw Ellie last left a bitter taste in your mouth. As you woke up that morning, your neck sore with the bruises of Ellie’s lips on your skin, body far too drained and tired even after a night of a sleep that was just a bit too deep. It was similar to almost all the times Ellie had drank from you the night prior.

So, why did you feel so bad that morning?

You knew that you didn’t owe Ellie anything, that you were the one to suggest this in the first place, so there truly wasn’t any room for you to be upset for reasons unknown. What were you even supposed to say to her? That you had a weird feeling? One that you desperately wanted her to relieve by telling you it was all okay?

As much as you wanted to, you knew things between you and Ellie weren’t like that.

You were her friend. You were just her friend, and as much as you wanted more, you knew deep down that if Ellie truly wanted you that way, she would’ve made you she’s a long time ago.

And maybe that’s what bothers you the most when this little dry spell occurs, because the sudden lack of her presence leaves you entirely too much time to dwell on things, wondering what it was that you did wrong, what you could have possibly said to create this sudden rift between the two of you.

Ellie had always been flirtatious, flashing that pretty smile in your direction that made you weak in the knees, calling you sweet names that made your heart beat faster. She was practically dangling it all right in front of your face, the frequent touches, the late night visits at the foot of your bed, all this time when you have her the benefit of the doubt, chalking it all up to her simply wanting to see you and nothing more than that, suddenly made no sense to you.

With time came confusion, and with confusion came anger, desperate to understand why she left you, what you had done to possibly make her so scarce so suddenly. And once the third month had hit without seeing Ellie, you were furious, feeling as though you had one choice and one choice only.

To find Ellie, and get the answers from her yourself.

You don’t go to Ellie’s apartment, not usually at least.

Ellie always told you she liked hanging out at your place, going on and on about how warm and cozy it was being there. She’d never admit it to you because she didn’t want you to think she was a freak, but being in a place that smelled so heavily like you made her brain go absolutely insane.

You’ve been there maybe a handful of times, sometimes heading to her place after a night out, or even stopping by whenever you were in the neighborhood. Bottom line was, your apartment was the designated hang out spot for you and Ellie.

Regardless though, you remember how to get there like it’s written on the back of your hand. You thought about Ellie’s apartment a lot, loving how much the space reflected her. You always wished you had the chance to stay there more often.

You can’t think about that though, not now. Not when you’re storming down the expensive halls of her complex down to her door, and landing a heavy fist on the door. All you can truly care about now, is seeing Ellie and demanding an explanation for her sudden disappearance.

And it’s all so unlike you, so out of your character. If it was anyone else, you’d let it go, giving yourself a few days to sulk before forgetting about it all together and simply moving on. Maybe it’s because it’s Ellie, and maybe it’s because you feel a tad bit used after being her personal buffet for the last few times you’d been around her, just for her to up and leave.

It’s most definitely that. You just don’t want to admit it in fears of sounding selfish.

You land another firm knock on her door when she doesn’t answer in time, feeling yourself grow angrier as the moments pass.

Soon, she’s finally opening the door. The image of her nearly takes your breath away.

Because Ellie always looks beautiful, perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t seen her in some time, but she looks fucking ethereal standing before you. So tall, so confident, her eyes so fucking dark, piercing through your very soul as she stares down at you. Her lips look like rubies compared to her cold, pale skin, so plump and kissable.

All you can think about is the way they felt pressed against your throat, and it makes you lift your hand to press against the two small circular scars on your neck.

Ellie frowns deeply as she eyes you, eyebrows furrowed and expression virtually unreadable.

“What are you doing here” she mumbles out, shifting on her feet awkwardly. Her question alone sets the fire off in your chest again, making you seethe as you take a deep inhale before responding.

“Are you kidding me Ellie?” You practically spit out, staring up at the girl in disbelief.

She lets out a soft sigh, her tattooed hand coming up to rub her face roughly before it moves up to rub through her hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she manages before she tries shutting her door in your face. “You can’t be here” she mumbles out softly, the girl fully expecting to be able to shut the door.

You however, have other plans.

You’re quick to press your hand against the door, stopping her from closing it before you practically force yourself between it. Ellie’s eyes widen a bit at this, not used to seeing you so forward.

Soon, you’re pushing yourself into her apartment, your palm pressing against your forehead as you began pacing back and forth Ellie’s lavish apartment.

“I don’t…I don’t understand you Ellie. Is it something I said? Did I do something? If so please enlighten me I beg you” you blurt out, all of the words fumbling out of your mouth in one breath.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you pace back and forth her apartment, her eyebrows furrowed. She can truly see the damaged shes caused when she sees you like this, because it was much easier to watch you when you slept, so peaceful and unaware of the troubles that came with her absence. She knew you were going to blame yourself, and as much as she knew she couldn’t allow you to do that to yourself, she knew staying away was even more important.

Seeing you like this was possibly the hardest thing Ellie had to ever endure.

You don’t stop there, taking advantage of the lack of a response from Ellie to continue ranting.

“Is it because of the blood thing? If so I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry for simply caring enough to make sure you didn’t die from starvation or whatever it is that happens to you when you don’t eat. I’m sorry for making sure that you were okay, if that was so wrong please tell me…” your words trail off as you let out an exasperated sigh, your feelings and emotions becoming far too much as you practically sob out to her.

But then you’re pausing, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggle to catch your breath. Ellie isn’t entirely sure why you’ve suddenly stopped, your back towards her as you stand there, doing god knows what.

When you finally turn around, your eyes are red and your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Were you just….using me? As your personal fucking blood bag?” Your words are shaky as you hold back another sob, your fists balled down at your sides.

Ellie freezes when you say this, because this is exactly what she was fucking afraid of.

It was a common theme throughout…her people. Vampires were notoriously alluring, seducing countless innocent and clueless victims into being their personal meal. The humans were almost always oblivious to what was being done to them, vampires often times using this to their advantage to keep them under their spell for as long as possible. It would most commonly been done in a way that made the humans believe the vampires loved them, dangling them by a thread as they promised them a life of eternity together, to live in immortality, side by side until the end of times. It almost never ended that way though, the vampires would suck and suck and suck until one day they went a bit too far, and their obedient human keeled over and died.

Ellie never wanted things to be that way with you.

She never even wanted you to think it was that way. She wanted you to understand that this was entirely up to you, and it could stop whenever you wanted it to. It’s why she constantly voiced to you that this was still a factor right before she fed off of you. Ellie would rather die than use you for a source of food, because truthfully you were far too good for that, too fucking pure to be used as something as low as a food source.

So when the words leave your lips, Ellie sees red.

Shes in front of you in less than a second, towering over you and staring down into your tear soaked eyes. Her nostrils are flared as she tries to hold back from tearing down her entire apartment complex around the both of you.

“You can’t possibly be stupid enough to think I’d ever use you for something so low..” her voice is low, and there’s a gravel in it that makes your core tighten and your chest bloom with something you can’t quite place, a feeling that can only be shelved in your mind right next to where Ellie takes place.

You don’t hack one, hot tears continuing to spill from your eyes as you stare at her with furrowed eyebrows.

“It makes sense….get your fix and then leave me like I’m nothing…this was probably your plan all along” you grit out.

Ellie licks her lips, knowing that you’re hurting just as much as she is, and your words are simply coming from a place of confusion, desperate to understand why she did what she did to you, why she left without a trace.

She leans in, her face a mere inches from yours. You can smell her minty breath wafting onto your face, and it’s bizarre because even that has a slight chill to it. It makes your cheeks cold, and it makes you want to reach out and warm her up.

“I would rather die a million deaths before using you for that…you and I both know this” she seethes out.

And it makes you whimper, because Ellie’s always been so fucking intense, so poetic. It makes your insides flip upside down, and your eyebrows knit together as you struggle to hold back a whimper.

Your features soften as you continue to cry in front of her. “Then why did you leave me…” you whisper out to the girl.

It breaks her heart how desperate you are for this. Not even for her, but simply for answers. All you want is to understand why she left, what you did to make her abruptly disappear without a single word.

Ellie’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, her pink tongue darting out to lick her plush lips before she finally speaks.

“I’ve never…been so weak for someone…in my entire life” she breaths out.

It surely isn’t what you’re expecting her to say. You think she’s going to say she’s gotten enough of you, or she just couldn’t handle having someone like you around. Hell, you were even beginning to think she was trying to cover up all her roots here and start somewhere else.

“I always have been…from the moment I fucking laid eyes on you, I knew you weren’t good for me…you’re too good for me” she continues, her eyes fluttering open as she finally stares down into yours. You can finally look into yours as you blink away the tears that are pooling in your eyes and blurring your vision, and it allows you to see the pain in her eyes, just how much she’d been struggling with all of this.

“It isn’t even your blood…it made it worse, yes…but just being around you is like…it’s like a fucking drug to me. You give me this feeling that I can’t…I can’t even begin to describe how fucking euphoric you make me feel” each of her words sounds like a plea, a plea for you to let her go, to unhand her from the death grip you have on her.

“And suddenly I’m always in your apartment, and you’re offering yourself to me and it’s like a dream come true and I feel like a fucking monster when I’m on top of you, sucking you dry of your fucking blood” it’s her turn to start pacing, running her hands through her hair as she settles one of her hands on her hip, she moves slower than you were, simply voicing the struggles she’s seemed to have with you from the moment you met.

She finally turns towards you, and she’s slowing make her way to where you’ve been standing this entire time. When she’s right back where she was, stood right in front of you, she takes your hand into hers ever so gently. It’s enough to make you flinch, how cold she is in contrast to your hot skin. She sighs, bringing your hand up to cradle her cheek, and her eyes flutter shut, nearly rolling back as she presses a soft kiss to your palm.

“I’m not strong enough for you…I don’t think I ever will be” she finally admits, and it’s like she’s not only admitting it to you, but to herself as well.

You hold back a whine as she kisses your palm, her lips so soft, so gentle with you.

“Then…then don’t be…why can’t you just let things happen” you sigh out as you stare up at her, in awe as the girl leaned into your touch as if it were her life line.

You aren’t even entirely sure what you’re asking her for, what this so called ‘thing’ is that she won’t let happen. Is it the feeding you’re alluding to? An act of true platonic kindness? Or are you asking for more, are you begging for something that Ellie has deprived you both of for the sake of the greater good?

Both you and Ellie have these same questions running through your minds.

She chuckles dryly against your skin, shaking her head as her hand gives your wrists a gentle squeeze.

“You aren’t even sure what it is you’re asking for…not from someone like me” she admits, eyes opening as she finally looks down at you again.

“I can’t…give you the things you deserve. I’m not capable of being the perfect person for you, not when I am what I am” her words are like venom on her tongue, the girl utterly disgusted with the monster that she became against her own will, the hell that she was forced to live over and over again with no foreseeable end.

“The only thing I can do, is take from you…I take and take and take….” Her words trail off, a soft frown on her lips before she finally looks at you once again.

“Until I’ve taken everything that you have…and there is no more of you to offer” she whispers out, as if the mere thought of a world without you pains her so much to say, she barely wants to say it.

You lick your lips, your eyes searching hers before you quickly shake your head.

“Do you want me? The same way that I want you?” You question carefully, fearful of what it is that she might say, worried that you’d been reading things entirely wrong, even after Ellie basically confessed how utterly obsessed she is with you.

She smirks softly, humming lowly as she gently brings your hand down to her lips, pressing another gentle kiss to it.

“It’s like I’ve waited my entire life for you, baby….saying that I want you would be an understatement” she chuckles out softly.

And you aren’t entirely sure how it even gets to this point, because you marched over to Ellie’s apartment with a purpose, that purpose being to yell at her and get the answers you deserved. But suddenly you’re standing in front of her, and your heart is exploding with so many different emotions and feelings, all of them for Ellie, and she’s just confessed to you that she wants you like you want her.

And you have no choice, but to kiss her.

It catches Ellie off guard, a soft whine leaving her lips as accepts your lips with gratitude, her arms moving down to drape along your waist as she pulls you closer.

It’s everything she’s ever dreamt it would be. Your lips soft and sweet against her own, your skin so warm and inviting, making her drink you up, fueling her with the warmth she’s lacked since the day she died. But despite how good it feels, she knows this is wrong, and it goes against everything she said she’d do for your sake.

Ellie breaks way first, watching as you struggle to catch your breath from the intense kiss. She’s quick to stop you from leaning in again, her hand cupping your face as she stares into your eyes.

“Angel…we can’t…I told you, I’m no good for you” she sighs out, the words paining her to even say.

You give her a soft pout, your arms wrapping around her shoulders loosely as you press your warm body against hers.

“I trust you Ellie….I know that you’d never hurt me” you sigh out softly as you stare into her eyes, your hand coming up to tuck a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to do the blood thing…but I just…can’t we just give us a try?” Your eyes are wide as you speak, eager to feel Ellie’s lips against yours again, even if for a moment. You don’t even take into consideration that she could say no, that she could turn you around and throw you out of her apartment without another word, doubling down on what she said she’d do with you.

But as Ellie said before, she’s just too fucking weak for you.

And hearing you ask for it, ask for her, it has her stomach in knots, and she feels like no matter what it is you ask her, she couldn’t possibly say no to you.

“What are you doing to me…” she sighs softly before she leans in to kiss you again, reciprocating the passion and heat that you gave her mere moments ago. You whine against her, your hands sliding back to tug at her hair, keeping her close as your lips moves against hers, your warm tongue sliding against hers.

“Missed you so much…” you sigh against her, and it makes Ellie groan softly as she nods, hands sliding down to grip your waist as she walks you back towards her bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

“Missed you more than anything, angel” she mumbles against your lips as she presses her palm against her bedroom door behind you, pushing it open and leading you further inside.

Ellie’s bedroom smells like her. It’s dark, and cold but oh so comforting. You practically sigh against her lips when you feel her laying your body down against her black silk sheets, the expensive material like butter on your skin. It makes your senses go in overdrive, Ellie’s hands caressing your skin, roaming around your body as her tongue rubs against yours in a dirty, passionate kiss.

“Don’t know how long I’ve waited to have you like this…” she sighs softly, her lips breaking away from yours to kiss along your jaw, down to your throat. You don’t miss the way Ellie kisses the now faded marks of her teeth on your neck, licking the skin softly before she sucks into it, sure to leave dark marks in the morning.

“Missed marking you up baby….” She hums against you, drinking in the sweet moans that leave your mouth, the sound alone like music to her ears.

Your mind is fuzzy, almost blank besides the thoughts of Ellie that stood in the forefront of your brain. It was like she was filling you up entirely, making you almost overwhelmed with her. Her scent, her cold skin, her soft hands, all of it was almost too much, a combination of sensory overload that kissed your skin so deliciously.

Soon she’s kissing down your body, practically worshiping her as her lips work on your soft skin. Her hands are pushing up your t-shirt, kissing your stomach and your ribcage until she’s tugging you up a bit to skillfully slip your shirt over your head. You’re bare before her, her lips matching onto your pebbled nipples as her tattooed hands work on your soft shorts, tugging them down your legs.

You don’t miss the way her tongue swirls around your nipple before letting go with a pop, lips moving up to nip at your collar bone with her flat teeth. Hard enough to leave a mark, but gentle enough to not break skin.

You giggle softly, bending your legs back to help as she tugs your shorts and panties off. She’s slotting herself between your legs, humming softly as she gives you a smirk.

“Something funny baby?” She questions before leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod, a dreamy smile on your lips as you bring your hand down to tug at the hem of Ellie’s t-shirt.

“Seems like old habits never die, that’s all….need this off” you huff out softly, fingers fumbling between the hem of her t shirt and the waistband of her sweats.

Ellie chuckles at how eager you are before she nods, pulling back to tug her shirt off before she rolls over a bit to pull off her sweats and underwear as well before she makes her way back between your legs, towering over you as she crawls into you like a predator would its prey.

And it leaves your pussy soaking wet, because it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined. Ellie’s tits are pebbled similarly to yours, tattoos littering her pretty skin, muscles so beautiful they could make your mouth fucking water.

You’d always seen Ellie for the beauty she possessed…but this? This was so much more different.

It made your head fucking spin.

You whined softly as you practically tug her into her by her shoulders, moaning softly at the feeling of her boobs squishing against yours as your mouth attacks her in a needy kiss.

“Want you…” you sigh softly against her as your hand slides down between the both of you, cupping her pussy. You feel Ellie suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of your warm fingers against her sopping wet core, and she gives you an eager nod before rolling over, her strong hands gripping your thighs and taking you with her as she forces you to straddle her.

Being on top of Ellie is just as good as being under her, almost better in all honesty. The lighting in her bedroom is dim, but you can just make out her features with the moonlight that spills in through her big windows, and the moody lights she has set up along her walls. You don’t even realize it because you’re too busy gawking at her, but she lifts her leg up a bit and easily slots you down so that your pussy is right against hers, the feeling making you moan softly.

“You’re so pretty Ellie…” you practically sigh out. It makes Ellie moan softly, and she swears the sound of you calling her pretty is enough to bring her back to life, reversing the effects of her undead state.

“Fuck…can’t say those things to me baby…you’re gonna…Jesus..ruin me” she struggles to get out as she grips your hips, forcing you to roll your hips so that your clit and her clit bumps against each other.

Your eyes flutter shut when you feel it. It’s so fucking wet, and soft, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Sure you’d done it with other girls before, but this just feels…it almost feels like….

“Like you were fucking made for me princess” Ellie grits out, her teeth caging her words in as she fucks you down onto her pussy, practically using you for both hers and your pleasure.

You’re too far gone to pick up on it, too indulged in the feeling of Ellie’s strong hands gripping your thighs so deliciously, sure to leave marks in their shape when you both wake up in the morning.

Your back is arching almost painfully, your hand gripping her thigh as you find the rhythm Ellie has set for you, finding the perfect spot and keeping it there as you drive both you and her to your orgasms.

“I’m…Ellie you feel so good…you’re gonna make me cum” you squeak out, eyebrows furrowed as you finally look down at the girl beneath you, only to find that she’s just as much of a mess as you are. Her hair is messy and her lips look so pouty and kissable. It’s hard to make out, but her fanged teeth are pressing into her lips, and you’re sure it’s the sexiest thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

She gives you an encouraging nod, one of her hands coming to your ass and kneading it harshly before giving it a firm spank, the sinful noise echoing off the walls of her pristine bedroom.

“I know baby…I know…come on, want you to cum with me…that’s it…that’s my good girl” her praises make your chest burn, and it leaves knots in your stomach. It only drives you further, your hips moving faster as they roll against Ellie’s, desperately chasing both hers and your orgasm.

“Ellie…Ellie I’m…I’m gonna-“ you cry out, back arching as you grip her thighs quickly, feeling your own shake as your orgasm begins washing over you.

Ellie catches it right before it happens, the girl quickly sitting up and wrapping her arms around your body, pressing your chest against hers as she pulls you down to kiss her passionately, her own orgasm washing over her like a fucking train.

Your bodies are so in tune, so in sync that your moans almost mix to create a symphony that can only be described as love, total and unconditional love as her arms keep you close, as if stopping you from running away from her, from the feeling she gives you. Her lips are working against yours as you breath hard, struggling to catch your breath in the sloppy kiss.

You’re a whining mess, your poor pussy far too sensitive to deal with the amount of pleasure that Ellie brought to you, all of it washing over you like an intense sea of euphoria, nearly drowning you as you held onto the girl with weak hands.

She knows you’re weak, because she’s pulling you down to rest your warm body against her cool sheets, all while keeping her cool body pressed against yours to bring you back down to earth with her.

“That’s it baby…I know….did so good for me…” she sighs softly as she leaves gentle kisses against your cheeks and eyes, watching as the aftermath of your orgasm slowly pulls you to the depths of sleep, all of it too much on your body.

“My beautiful girl…my girl…my girl…” she hums out, almost like a song as she watches you cling to her in your sleep, soft hums and huffs leaving your lips, all of which makes Ellie smile adoringly at you as she holds you while you sleep.

And even while you’re settling into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever experienced, you don’t miss the soft kisses against your lips and cheeks, all paired with the constant, non stop praises from Ellie.

You especially don’t miss the way she leans in settles against the pillow next to you, mumbling the softest, sweetest words to you as her hands caressing your naked body.

“I love you, pretty girl..”

[hgfictionwriter]

Jackpot

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You and Jessie place a bet - neither of you think the other can survive a month without sex. Winner gets to have their way with the other.

Warnings: G!P smut. Edging/teasing, masturbation, cunnilingus, marathon sex, unprotected/risky sex, breeding/preg kink.

A/N: I combined a few requests to write this fic. It's LONG. Hopefully still good though. Hope you enjoy.

“You are so handsy tonight,” you laughed as Jessie wrapped her arms around your waist while you cleaned up after dinner.

“I can’t help it if you’re attractive,” Jessie reasoned, unbothered.

You pushed your hips back into her, giving a purposeful roll of them and bit back a smug smirk at the low groan that came from her.

“And you do things like that,” she complained before giving you a slow, teasing kiss at the nape of your neck, causing a shiver to go down your spine.

You tucked your head down, raising your shoulder and pulling away slightly, snickering at how she let out a noise of disappointment.

“I have to finish cleaning up. And I have to finish some work tonight. I can’t get,” you paused to give her an amused, but pointed look, “distracted.”

Jessie grumbled furthermore, resting her head heavily on your shoulder.

You turned in her arms, wrapping yours around the back of her neck now and not able to help yourself from smiling as her pout slowly transformed into a small smile. You gently rolled yourself against her and bit the inside of your lip at how her eyes drifted shut at the action. You loved even more how you could feel her starting to grow hard against you.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you said, a slight lilt in your voice, “I love how hot we are for each other.” You smirked, reaching between your bodies and gently rubbing her through her pants. “And how hard you get for me.”

“But?” Jessie asked, forcing herself to open her eyes and look at you as you teased her.

“But nothing,” you shrugged. A thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t entirely hold back your laugh. She frowned at you in question.

“[Y/friend] was talking about ‘No nut November’ and,” you looked her up and down rather smugly, “I’m not sure you’d be able to make it.”

Jessie’s jaw dropped, blatantly affronted by the accusation.

“Are you serious?” She asked, holding her hands up in defense. You leaned in, trying to give her an appeasing kiss on the check but she dodged it. “No. No, you don’t get any kisses after that.” You laughed and gave her an apologetic look.

“I was just teasing,” you said.

“No,” Jessie said, folding her arms across her chest though a smirk now crossed her lips. “You weren’t kidding. You think I’m just horned up and can’t behave myself? We’ll see about that,” she went on rather haughtily. “You’re just as bad as me.”

You narrowed your eyes at her playfully. “Really now.”

“Really. I bet that you can’t go a month without us having sex,” Jessie challenged, head held high.

“Oh my god,” you said, rolling your eyes before mimicking her body language. “I bet you can’t either. One month, no sex.” You tapped your chin in contemplation. “We can masturbate once a week; we’ll just have to do that on the honour system.”

Jessie chuckled. “And what does the winner get?”

“Whatever kind of sex they want,” you said as you cocked your head. You held up a hand, “Within reason. It has to be consensual, of course, but you get the idea.”

“I do,” Jessie said before holding out her hand. “Deal.” You took her hand and gave it a shake.

“Deal.”

—————

To say the following weeks were a challenge would be a massive understatement. You’d gone in rather confident, thinking of all the ways you’d tease Jessie, but you didn’t anticipate how she’d tease you back.

There were many close calls. For both of you. And if it was anyone other than Jessie, you probably would’ve laughed off the bet, but as with anything else in her life, she was taking it very seriously.

You learned the night the bet was made, in fact, how seriously she was taking it. You’d gotten into bed after her and scooched up against her, your ass on her hips and nestled in. Immediately, she grunted and shifted back, a totally foreign reaction to you. You complained and pulled her arm around your waist to spoon you.

“I just want to cuddle,” you said. But that was quickly disproved when you began to grind back against her. She’d jerked away and grumbled something about you not playing nice and went to sleep on the other side of the bed.

The next morning, Jessie went out for a run and when she came back she put on a bit of a show, though she’d never admit it, but she knew damn well it would drive you wild.

She came into the bedroom, you still lying in bed, and lifted up her shirt to wipe the sweat off her face. She was well aware of your eyes on her sweat covered abs.

When she took off her shirt, she let down her hair and pushed it back, her biceps flexing as she did so and she turned to speak to you, arms still flexed. She made up some excuse to reach for something across the bed, reaching over you, her sweaty, sexy body brushing against you.

She nonchalantly went about her routine, closing out with coming to speak to you fresh from her shower, a towel held precariously in front of her cock, but the rest of her body on display.

“That’s your one for the week,” she said pointedly with a knowing smirk at the end of your conversation. She turned to leave, your cheeks reddening as she walked away. Guess you weren’t as quiet and discrete as you thought you were when she was in the shower.

The days carried on like that. Some flirtations subtle, like a hand brushing against a thigh or a waist. You wearing sexy underwear and make sure she got a glimpse. Some less subtle. Like when she not so subtly came out to the couch and sat down in boxers and a sports bra, legs spread and hands behind her head as you watched a show.

You reciprocated by turning to her, kissing her on the shoulder and down her chest, pulling an unfiltered glare from her. Undeterred, you looked down at the subtle bulge that was beginning to form in her boxers and sat back up and began to pull your hair back into a ponytail.

You forced yourself to not react as she watched you steadily, almost a sense of disbelief on her face before you sat back and returned to watching your show. You snickered at the frustrated exhale she released.

The worst of all was when you’d been out with friends one night and your hand wandered as Jessie drove you back home. She’d complained about how that wasn’t fair and was a borderline violation. You stopped, but you didn’t recall rules around words.

“God, baby. I’m dripping wet for you. My panties are soaked because I want your hard cock inside of me so badly. I want to feel you stretching me out, my needy pussy wrapping tightly around you. I want your hips slamming into me as you fill me up so good again and again.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jessie said chastising, though by the look of the growing tent in her pants, in arousal as well. “That’s not allowed.”

“Dirty talk wasn’t included in the rules,” you argued.

“It’s simulating sex though, so it’s against the rules,” Jessie argued.

“What are you going to do, baby?” You asked as you eyed her. “I know you already got yourself off earlier this week. Want me to take care of you?”

“No,” Jessie said curtly, her grip tightening on the steering wheel while she pulled into your parkade.

She got out of the car in a huff and you stifled a laugh as she rounded the car, her erection obvious as her pants stretched tightly across her.

You were about to make a smart remark when she pushed you against the car and ground herself into you as she met you in a heated, hard kiss. Though surprised, a moan worked its way up your throat as she bent her knees and pushed her hips up and into you, the firmness in her pants pressing against your heat and causing an immediate reaction in you.

You made out, shamelessly grinding against one another.

“You can take me upstairs, you know,” you offered.

“Are you asking me to?” Jessie asked between kisses.

“No,” you forced yourself to say. “I’m just saying you can if you like.”

“No can do, babe,” she said with a crooked grin. “As much as I want to, that’d be admitting defeat. Not going to happen. But if you want me to carry you upstairs and pound you until you’re screaming my name, your legs shaking as you cum all over my cock, I’d love to.”

You whined, your knees almost growing weak at the visual, but you found your resolve and turned her down.

The challenges escalated that night until you mutually decided to call a truce and stop teasing each other. It was an uncomfortable time for both of you coming down off of your arousal without any real relief, but stubbornness won out.

You were about a week away from the month being over when Jessie and you were on the couch watching a show together, you cuddled in next to her with her hand on your thigh. Her hand gently caressed you, very slowly moving higher until you shot her a look of warning.

“No?” She asked, a glint in her eye. “Is it getting you worked up?” You grumbled.

“You know it is,” you said as you nudged her.

“That’s too bad,” she said lightly. “I like touching you, knowing how you’re getting wet as you start thinking about my fingers or my cock or tongue in you.”

“Babe,” you scolded.

“And too bad you already used up your one pass for the week already,” she said with a fake look of apology. “I, however, have not. And, what can I say, thinking about you gets me worked up, too.”

She glanced down, drawing attention to the bulge starting to form in her pants. Before you could think of what to do or say, she undid her pants, shimmying them down her legs until she was clad in her boxers.

Your jaw dropped. Was she going to do what you thought she was? Jessie had never masturbated in front of you. By the time you looked up at her she had a faint blush on her face, but it was overshadowed by a smug smirk as she reached into her boxers and pulled out her swelling cock.

You let out a small exhale and she nipped at your neck.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She asked.

“This can’t be fair,” you told her.

“There’s no rule against it,” she countered as she licked her hand and began to stroke herself up and down. She locked eyes with you. “See what you do to me?”

“Oh God,” you said as your hand came to the back of your neck and rubbed agitatedly.

“How is it making you feel, baby?” She asked. “You seem restless,” she went on as she grew to full length and slowly pumped herself up and down. “I wish this was your hand. Or your mouth,” she said with a look to your lips.

She circled the thick head of her cock with her thumb. “And of course even better if I was slipping inside of your heat. I can practically feel your walls gripping me, pulling me in and massaging me.”

“I thought you said this kind of talk was against the rules,” you said as you squeezed your legs together in a vain attempt to find some relief.

A faint laugh escaped Jessie’s mouth as she nodded towards your lap.

“I know you’re thinking about how good it would feel - me filling you up, so deep inside of you. God,” she picked up her pace, letting her head fall back against the couch, “I can practically hear it. How wet it sounds every time I thrust in and out of you. I love the way you drip down my cock; knowing I made you that wet.”

You watched her, her hips thrusting up into her fist, the visual she painted for you, all the while a cute frown on her face as her cheeks reddened.

This whole bet was ridiculous.

You reached out, placing your hand over hers. She stopped the second you touched and looked over at you in surprise.

“I give up,” you told her. “I don’t care anymore. I want you. I’m so desperate for you.”

She seemed to process your words for a moment before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she smiled.

“Thank god,” she said in blatant relief. Her smile grew as you stood up and began taking your clothes off in a rush. She reached up now and then to help you and took off her clothes fully as well.

"God, you're gorgeous," she breathed as you pushed her back against the couch and were about to straddle her. You let out a small squeal of surprise when she flipped you so you were sitting and she was on top, swiftly dropping to her knees in front of you. She locked eyes with you and pushed your legs apart.

"Oh fuck yeah," she said appreciatively as her eyes fell to your dripping wet entrance. "God, I've missed you so much," she said, her shoulders falling as she spoke.

She reached under your legs, her arms hooking under your thighs and she pulled you to the edge of the couch. Not bothering with her typical teasing or foreplay, she buried her face in your slick folds right away and lapped hungrily at you, drawing a cry from you immediately. You clawed desperately at the couch moments in, the feel of her tongue and mouth on you something you'd been craving for weeks and been denied.

"Oh my God, Jess," you panted. "That feels so good," you breathed as she rocked her face into you and sucked on your clit.

You bucked your hips up into her as she tended to you with a determination and drive that had you peaking within a few short minutes. She licked and sucked and it sounded messy and wet, and it felt so incredibly good.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum already," you said, your face tensing up as your impending orgasm approached. She simply moaned and continued to care for you, her attention not wavering in the least.

Inevitably, your orgasm came crashing down on you. Your thighs flexed around her head and your hips jerked erratically up into her. It was so intense that any moan was caught in your throat and came out a strangled whimper instead.

When Jessie came up for air, she wiped her face with a shirt off the floor, rest her arms across your thighs and leaned up to kiss you. You languidly kissed her back, still finding your way through your post-bliss haze.

"I won the bet, right?" You heard her say as she settled back onto her heels. You slowly opened your eyes to see her looking at you curiously. You gave a nod.

“Yeah, I hate to admit it, but you did,” you said with a wry chuckle. You gave her a small smirk. “Which means,” you sat up, cupping her face and kissing her slowly, “you get to have your way with me.”

You watched as Jessie immediately grew flushed, her gaze flicking away momentarily. You cocked your head at her and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What? Isn’t it a good thing?”

“It’s not necessary. It was just a fun bet. There’s no need. I didn’t have anything in mind,” Jessie went in to kiss you and you allowed it, but pulled back shortly.

“Wait. That can’t be true. You held on for that long, that determinedly, with nothing in mind?” You asked skeptically.

“Yeah, I'm competitive,” Jessie reiterated though the deeper shade of her cheeks and nervous smile told you there was more to it. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Babe. Just tell me. I want to know,” you insisted. She didn’t immediately reject your request, but shied away still. You implored further. “Come on. Please. I want to know. And who knows? Maybe I wanted the same!”

“I doubt that,” Jessie returned with no hesitation. Now you were really curious.

“Well now you definitely have to tell me,” you said.

She looked away and chewed the inside of her cheek before huffing quietly and running a hand through her hair. She eventually looked back at you, holding your gaze but remaining wordless.

“Please tell me,” you urged softly as you cupped her face and thumbed her cheeks gently with one hand, but grasped her length with the other and stroked slowly. Her eyes closed momentarily before she held your gaze for a few long seconds and spoke.

“You can say ‘no’. Please know that. I 100% won’t mind. I only want to do it if you’re into it, too.” She waited for you to acknowledge her and you gave a nod. “I want to be inside of you, but…” her gaze flit about, “no condom.”

“Oh,” you said, many tones in one. She immediately looked concerned and you head her off. “That’s all?”

She frowned. “Yeah? I mean. It’s risky - you’re not on birth control. And I mean, I could pull out! But I know that’s still risky, so I totally get it if you aren’t comfortable."

“That sounds hot to me,” you responded, not needing long to think and she looked suspicious.

“Seriously?”

“Mmhmm,” you voice as you scooted to the edge of the cushion. You grabbed her hand and placed it between your legs, ensuring her fingers came into contact with the wetness that was already starting to form again.

“In case you need convincing,” you whispered in her ear. She groaned and her fingers began to massage you.

Her cock twitched when she felt how wet you were. She rose up onto her knees, grasping your ass and pulling you even further off the cushion. You let out a small yelp, but laughed as she smirked at you and began rubbing her cock up and down the length of your slit.

“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed you so much,” she said as she watched the way your lips parted as she pushed through your folds and over your clit. You spied the bead of precum that had formed at the tip of her cock over the past few minutes. You moaned.

“I need you inside of me,” you told her. She glanced up at you, pausing for a second before lining up the head of her length at your entrance. She watched intently as she shifted her hips forward ever so slowly, biting her lip as she watched the way you gradually stretched out around her, accommodating her width.

“God, you look so amazing taking me like this,” she said as she remained focused on the visual before her. Her mouth fell into an ‘O’ as she pushed inside and felt your walls surround her.

“Oh god,” she said, her forehead creasing in a frown, “you feel so incredible. I missed being inside of you. And you feel beyond amazing like this. Even better than I imagined. Holy fuck.”

It didn’t necessarily feel different to you, but just the thought and understanding that she was in you bare brought things to a whole other level. You pushed your head back into the couch and pulled her by the waist further into you.

“Fuck, babe,” she said with a light chuckle as you caused her to bottom out. “Jesus, slow down or I’m going to bust right away.”

You grinned and pulled her down into a kiss and rolled your hips against her.

Soon, Jessie had you half reclined on the couch, your legs wrapped around her waist as she pumped into you. The room was soon filled with whimpers and cries from you coupled with moans and grunts from her. The sounds of her hips bouncing off of you along with the sounds that came each time she thrust in and out of your wet tunnel were intoxicating.

“Hear how much I missed you? How much I need you?”

“Jesus Christ,” she grunted as she gripped your hips. “Fuck, I’m close already,” she said as she screwed her eyes shut.

She let out a quick exhale and wrapped her arms around you, one under you and another up along your back as she hoisted you off the couch and carried you into the kitchen, remaining inside of you. She kissed you as she set you down on the counter.

She held herself still as she played with your clit and kissed your neck. You flexed around her subconsciously and she groaned against your skin.

“Fuck, just being inside you is too good.”

When you were getting close she began to pull her hips back, drawing out to the tip before thrusting to the hilt once more.

“Baby, I’m so close,” you told her as you clutched her to you.

“Me too,” she panted as she pumped into you, having to pull you back towards her on the counter now and then from the force of her thrusts. She pumped into you a few times more before speaking again. “I can pull out.”

You dug your nails into her skin.

“Or not,” you said. Her pace faltered and she leaned back to look at you. You went on. “I want you to cum inside of me.”

“Oh fuck, babe,” she said, eyes shutting as she spoke. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not. I want you to finish in me,” you told her.

She grunted, her fingers gripping your hips. “And…what if something, you know, happens?”

“Then, we can cross that bridge when we get there.” She watched you wordlessly and you smiled. “Honestly? It’s even hotter knowing that it’s all being left up to chance. That you’re so hot for me right now that you want nothing more than to spill yourself inside of me.”

“Jesus,” she said, her eyes rolling into her head before she screwed them shut. “That’s so sexy. God, I want to cum as deep inside of you as I can.”

“Then do it,” you said as you pulled her in for a kiss. The kiss broke off a few moments later as Jessie’s body tensed up as she pushed up into you, her hips rutting into you as a few short groans fell from her lips. She held herself tight against you as she pumped her cum into you.

Eventually, she drew her hips back and gave a few slow thrusts. She looked down at where your bodies were joined and her mouth fell agape in wonder.

“Holy,” she said as she saw a mixture of her cum and yours pooled around the base of her cock and the edge of your lips. The strings of cum stretched along her cock with every stroke. “This looks so fucking amazing, babe.”

She continued to slowly pump in and out of you, mesmerized by what she was seeing until she softened and fell out of you.

You spread your legs further, inviting her to watch as you reached down and rubbed her cum through your lips and circled your clit. You dipped two fingers inside of you. When you withdrew them they were coated in cum and you locked eyes with her as you brought them to your mouth and sucked them clean.

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie breathed with a laugh of appreciation. She ran a hand through her hair before rushing in to kiss you hard. You wrapped your legs around her once more and she began to grind herself against your core again. It wasn’t long before you felt her start to grow hard against you.

“God, I need you again,” she moaned into your heated kiss.

“So take me,” you said. Her chest rumbled as she lifted you off the counter and carried you over to the wall, pinning you against it before filling you in one swift motion.

A cry fell from your lips and she chuckled smugly into your neck as she began to rock herself in and out of you.

“I want to cum inside you again. Make you mine. Claim you all over this apartment,” she panted.

“Fuck, Jess,” you said as you clawed at her back. “You feel incredible inside of me. Make me yours.”

Soon, she had you bouncing up and down on her cock, your back rubbing roughly against the wall as she fucked you silly. Her fingers dug into the underside of your thighs and you knew she’d leave bruises but it turned you on even more.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to take you like this? No barrier - just you and me,” she said. “And God, it’s been impossible not fucking you these past few weeks. I’ve never wanted someone so badly. You’re so perfect.”

You moaned needily, each thrust causing your moan to stutter as her hips slammed into you.

“I can feel our cum dripping down my leg, baby. God, it’s so messy and I love it.”

“Fuck,” you hissed as you started cumming over her cock again. You tore up her back, which she’d give you heck for once you were both out of your lust-filled frenzy.

She grunted and clutched you tighter as she started to cum in you once more, her cock pulsing as she spilled rope after rope of cum in you.

She pressed you into the wall as she drained herself into you before gently lowering you both to the floor.

Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath and Jessie did the same. She eventually rolled off of you, a soft popping noise coming as she withdrew from you. You heard her chuckle softly.

“We are making an absolute mess,” she said, her smugness thinly veiled as you glanced down to see a small pool of cum beneath you where she’d just pulled out. You slapped her shoulder playfully and she laughed further as she laid on her back.

“I know how clean you like the apartment to be, so this really speaks to how horny you are,” you chuckled.

A couple of minutes passed and you sat up, looking down at her as she laid there with her arms behind her head. You straddled her and a crooked grin crossed her face. You kissed your way along her shoulder, up her neck and nipped at her ear before whispering.

“Did I mention that you’re the first person I’ve ever let cum inside me?”

“Oh shit,” Jessie said as her fingers gripped you. “That is so freakin hot. You don’t even know.” She kneaded the juncture between your hips and thighs and looked down at your core. “And I hope it stays that way.”

“Mmm, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that,” you said.

“Yeah? You like me enough to stay?” She teased.

“You like me enough to keep me?” You countered.

“You know I do,” she said. “Sex aside and all. I love you and you know it,” she went on before rolling her hips against you. “And the fact that you get me hard back to back so quickly should tell you something too.”

“Mm,” you voiced as you rocked against her hardening member. “I do love having that effect on you.”

You rose up enough that the tip of her erection jutted against your entrance. You held her gaze as you sat down on it, arching your back at the sensation of her filling you up again.

Soon, you were riding her in the entry way of your apartment, her hands on your breasts as you bounced up and down on her thick cock. Your knees would be red and bruised after, but you really didn’t care in this moment.

At one point she grabbed your hips and started hammering into you from below and you moaned shamelessly at the feel of her stretching you out repeatedly.

“Fuck,” you cursed, eyes shut, your head falling back as she sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

When your legs began to shake from the effort combined with back to back orgasms. She held you in place for a second before nodding for you to get off. You wordlessly obliged, having trouble processing much of anything right now and she got up and carried you to the bedroom.

She shot you a salacious grin as she tossed you onto the bed. She grabbed you by the hips, flipped you over and tugged you up onto your knees as she climbed up behind you. She slapped your ass, the sound erupting across the room before she stroked your clit and lips several times, loving the way you fell onto your forearms with a whimper, ass angled up at her.

Another wanton moan tumbled out your mouth as she mounted you, her cock hitting your g-spot as she filled you.

She reached around and continued to circle your clit as she began to pump in and out of you.

You rolled your head back and forth across your arm as pulse after pulse of pleasure coursed through you as her hips bounced off of you.

She held you up as your legs shook. You felt a different type of pressure and heat building between within your core with every stroke. Your mouth opened several times and you stammered your bliss before it crested and you felt yourself gush against her.

“Fuck,” you managed to say as you squirted, your legs spreading wider as your juices ran down her legs and onto the bed.

“Oh my God, you’re so amazing,” Jessie said in awe, pausing inadvertently as she processed what was happening.

As she saw the pool of arousal on the sheets from you squirting, your heat stretching tightly around her cock, cum from your various rounds coating you both, her mind was in a total haze. She wrapped an arm underneath you and pulled you sharply against her, grabbing your shoulder with her other hand and started fucking you with abandon.

You felt pleasure and tension building again already as she railed you from behind. You were going to be so sore the next day, but it felt incredible.

“I’m going to pump you so full,” Jessie panted. “Fucking you so good you won’t ever want another cock.”

You wanted to respond, but you couldn’t formulate any words. All you could do was moan as you buried your face into the bed and bundled up the sheets in your fists.

“I love you so much,” she said, voice shuddering in exertion. “I’m only ever going to fuck you like this again. My cum leaking out of you as I keep fucking you raw. So if you don’t want to have my baby, we better get you some birth control.”

She grunted as her hips continued to slap into you, causing your body to jostle further into the mattress.

“I would offer to get snipped, but I want you to have my baby someday. So…”

You whined and you white knuckled the sheets even more. Her pace picked up and her whimpers rose in pitch.

“Here it comes,” she said before letting out a short yell as she doubled over you, pressing you into the mattress as she came impossibly hard inside of you, despite it being her third orgasm of the night.

She grunted a couple more times as her cock twitched inside of you. She laid heavy on top of you as you both lay there sweaty and spent.

“Oh fuck,” she eventually said as she rolled off of you. “Best bet I ever won,” she breathed.

[crystallinestars]

If They Were Your Pet Cat

Happy Cat Day (22.02)! I was inspired to write a few headcanons about what the boys would be like as cats.

I wanted to include a few more boys, but my brain ran out of juice.

Parts 2 and 3 with Honkai Star Rail boys here and here.

Contains: Kaveh, Alhaitham, Itto, Scaramouche, Venti, and Dainsleif.

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Kaveh:

🍷 Is a Siberian breed.

🍷 When you first brought him home, Kaveh took a while to warm up to you. He was wary of your intentions and reluctant to let you touch him. With some patience and gentleness, you eventually melted the golden feline’s heart, and he became inseparable from you. Wherever you go in the house, he follows, or at the very least checks on you to know where you are.

🍷 Kaveh is very sensitive to your emotional state. If you’re feeling depressed, he likes to lay on your chest and purr until you feel better. When you cry, he’s always by your side, rubbing his cheeks against you and licking at your face as if trying to wipe them away. He doesn’t leave your side until he’s sure you’re alright.

🍷 Due to your work/school, Kaveh is used to you coming and going at certain times as a part of your daily routine. However, if you come home later than usual, expect to have a grumpy cat on your hands. He will angrily meow at you non-stop and flick his tail in annoyance. He doesn’t like being alone, and he lets you have a piece of his mind if you leave him alone for long periods of time. He’ll sulk unless you coax him with some treats and gentle pats. Spending some time grooming or playing with him usually calms him down afterward.

🍷 Is very good with having guests over. Kaveh is a sociable cat and always greets anyone that comes through the door and gives them a sniff to learn who they are. He’s open to being petted by others but prefers to sit on your lap as opposed to your friends or family.

🍷 He’s a gorgeous cat but his coat is high maintenance. Because it’s so thick and long, he doesn’t tolerate the heat well. He requires regular brushing and grooming to keep his coat healthy. It’s a good thing he enjoys being petted because it makes grooming much easier. He tends to lean into your touch or the hairbrush when you stroke his body and purrs a lot throughout the entire process. He loves being pampered.

🍷 Kaveh likes to sleep on your bed, pressed up against you or lying on your chest. You got him a cat bed, but Kaveh still prefers to sleep right next to you in your bed.

🍷 He’s generally very affectionate. He both loves to give you affection and receive it. You’re not sure how well Kaveh understands what you say, but he always looks very smug whenever you praise him and give him scritches. He’ll headbutt you, asking for more head pats and affection.

🍷 You often find him staring out the window with rapture. You’re not sure what captivates his attention so much—maybe the sunset, the rainbow after the rain, or perhaps the flowers that bloom right outside your window. He’s also strangely attracted to lightning. Rather than get scared and hide, he sits by the window and stares out at the stormy skies.

Alhaitham:

🎧 Is a Russian blue.

🎧 Alhaitham is the quietest cat you’ve ever met. Hearing him meow or make any kind of vocal sound is rare. He’s also very introverted and prefers to spend time alone, hidden in some cozy nook or cranny.

🎧 He’s also very stubborn and smart. If you want to put a silly little cat costume on him for laughs, you can forget it because Alhaitham will give you the slip every time without fail. Rather than try to chase and play hide-and-seek with him, it’s much easier to abandon the idea altogether. If he doesn’t want something done to him, you won’t be able to force him.

🎧 As mentioned earlier, he’s a very smart cat. Alhaitham figured out how to open doors on his own, and is even able to open the fridge all by himself. It’s a bit annoying because he sometimes uses his abilities to sneak a tasty little something from the fridge, but his intelligence is truly a marvel. When you speak to him, Alhaitham’s expressions and body language change in response to your words, almost as if he understands exactly what you’re saying and is reacting to it.

🎧 Most of your friends and family have only caught glimpses of him when they visit. That’s because Alhaitham dislikes having guests over, and tends to hide from them. He only comes out once they leave.

🎧 He’s not a social cat in general and likes to keep his distance even from you. He’s not a lap cat, and will jump off and leave if you try to force him to lay on your lap. When he does feel like being social, Alhaitham will lay beside you if you’re reading a book, or perch on your shoulder to observe what you’re doing.

🎧 Is a very lazy cat, so you frequently find him taking naps while lying in a warm spot of sunshine. If you disturb his nap by attempting to pet or poke him, he gives you a displeased look and flicks his tail in annoyance. He’s very grumpy when his sleep is ruined.

🎧 Alhaitham never listens to strangers but does listen to you. If you call him over, he will come to you. He also tolerates your touch, and lets you squeeze and pet him without biting or scratching you. He looks unhappy about it, but lets you do as you please. However, if you ruin his attempts to leave once he’s had enough of your affection, he will take his revenge. That cup that’s sitting near the edge of the table? Yeah, he’s gonna push that off and stare at you without remorse while it crashes to the ground.

Itto:

🐂 A Maine Coon.

🐂 Itto is not meant for a house cat lifestyle. Despite your best attempts to keep him indoors, the rascal always manages to slip out somehow and venture into the great outdoors. His yearning to explore the greater world is too strong for you to contain, so you have to make peace with the fact he’ll spend most of his time roaming outside. On the bright side, Itto always comes home to you without fail, looking happy to see you and bask in your affection again.

🐂 He made friends with some stray cats in the area, so you have a small group of them regularly come to your porch and meow until you give them some food. It’s a bit costly to feed so many mouths, but watching the cats play together or rub against your legs while purring affectionately convinces you it’s worth it.

🐂 Since Itto spends so much time outside, he tends to come home dirty and matted. He needs to be bathed to stay clean, but good luck getting him in the bath. He screams and yowls bloody murder every time you try to wash him, to the point that your neighbors knock on your door to ask what’s going on. Thankfully, they grow accustomed to Itto’s bathtime opera and stop pestering you about it.

🐂 Brushing Itto’s fur also proves a challenge because he just can’t sit still. The little guy has too much energy to keep contained, so he usually ends up looking disheveled.

🐂 Itto is also a giant glutton. He’s capable of eating a week’s worth of cat food in just 3-4 days, yet somehow doesn’t gain weight. It’s expensive to keep him fed. If you try to put him on a diet, he will be very vocal in his complaints and even steal food from your plate.

🐂 He’s a troublemaker, but he’s incredibly loyal to you. If you’re feeling down, he’ll get you to play with him to take your mind off your troubles. If that doesn’t work, he’ll become more affectionate and rub up against you to get you to pet him and relieve stress. He never abandons you if you’re not feeling your best.

Scaramouche:

☂️ Is a domestic shorthaired tuxedo cat.

☂️ Was very hostile and cold towards you when you first got him. He was averse to touch, and often hissed and glared at you for the first few months of your joint cohabitation. Over time, when he was sure you meant him no harm, Scaramouche relaxed in your presence and wasn’t so hostile towards you anymore. He still glares daggers at any guests you may have over, but with you, he’s calmer and more affectionate.

☂️ Scaramouche is a bit of a loner and tends to slink off on his own to whatever corner of the house he calls his own. When guests are over, he likes to sit in an elevated spot (top of the closet, fridge, or shelf) and observe everyone from above. He does this for two reasons: firstly to discourage people from touching him, and secondly to keep an eye on the people around you.

☂️ If there’s someone he doesn’t like, Scaramouche will make it very apparent. That unfortunate guest of yours will get a warning growl to stay away from you. If the guest doesn’t comply, Scaramouche could even go as far as scratching the person. It’s not good behaviour on his part, but Scaramouche has his reasons. You’ve come to learn that he’s very good at picking out individuals who have bad intentions towards you or are just overall not good people.

☂️ He's a bit of a grumpy cat. He’ll let out noises of discontent if you pick him up to cuddle him or groom him, but he’s just all bark and no bite (but only with you). As unhappy as he’ll look, he’ll tolerate whatever it is you want to do to him. Unless it’s dressing him in silly costumes. Then you’ll get a harmless swat to your face (he makes sure to keep his claws retracted) and won’t see him for the rest of the day. Scaramouche won’t come out even when you call for him. No silly costumes, please.

☂️ For all his grouchy attitude, he still loves you. He wakes you up on time if you sleep through your alarm, badgers you if you forget to take your meds, and purrs on your chest when you feel sad. He’s very intelligent for a cat.

☂️ Is very picky about food. He won’t eat just anything you give him. Unfortunately for you, the only cat food brand he’s willing to eat is very expensive. He’s a very spoiled cat.

☂️ Hates bathing. Scaramouche tolerates brushing and nail trimming, but God forbid you try to put him in the bath. He will meow angrily and try to run, so it’s always an ordeal to hold him still long enough to bathe him. Sends you a scathing look if you laugh at how skinny he looks once his fur is matted to his body, making him look several sizes smaller. If you laugh, he’ll give you the cold shoulder afterward, so you won’t see him for a few days.

☂️ Isn’t into playing with cat toys, but he does hunt in his spare time. He brought you birds and mice a few times as a ‘gift’. He genuinely meant well, so was a bit irritated that you threw his gifts away.  

Venti:

🍃 A munchkin cat.

🍃 Venti is a cat that cannot be tamed. He clearly understands your commands because he sometimes complies with them when he feels like it, but most of the time he prefers to do his own thing. This includes venturing out into the great outdoors. Venti is not content staying cooped up at home, and you’ve long since learned to just let him go out when he wants. He’ll find a way to escape one way or the other. Besides, he still comes home, so it’s not like he doesn’t like living with you.

🍃 Venti seems to have an appreciation for music. He becomes energized whenever you play music, no matter what genre the song may be. He becomes more playful, so you often find yourself sidetracked playing with the cat instead of doing your work. If you can’t play with him, then Venti will zoom around the house like a cat on a sugar rush.

🍃 To your surprise, Venti also likes to sing. Or at least, you think the caterwauls he’s making are his attempts at singing along to some of the songs. It’s an amusing, albeit weird, sight.

🍃 Is generally not a lap cat, but he makes exceptions if he senses that you’re feeling down. During such moments, he becomes more subdued and nuzzles into your side, allowing you to pet him. His gentle purring and soft body usually help you feel better. If not, then he’ll stick to you like glue and follow you around the house to keep you company. It will be one of the few times when Venti sleeps next to you at night since he usually goes off on his own during that time. It’s obvious that he worries about your well-being.

🍃 Out of all the foods you let Venti try, you never expected him to like apples as much as he did. You swear he likes them more than the expensive cat treats you bought him. You trained him to do all kinds of tricks and even sit still for grooming in exchange for a few slices of apple (given as a treat).

🍃 He likes sleeping outside under the shade of the canopy, accompanied by a gentle breeze. You often catch him sleeping high up in a tree or a nook somewhere in the grass.

Dainsleif:

🌌 A Norwegian Forest cat.

🌌 You got Dainsleif from a shelter. He has a chronic illness that requires you to take him to the vet regularly for treatment, and some kind of scarring on his right side. The right side of his face and flank has matted, thinning fur, and you can only guess what happened to him before he ended up at the shelter. He was a very pitiful sight, which is why you brought him home. Under your care, Dainsleif lives the best life he can given his afflictions, and you’re even proud to say that aside from his mangled right side, the rest of his coat looks gorgeous.

🌌 Dainsleif is a relatively quiet and well-tempered cat. Though he’s shy and skittish around strangers, with you, he is more open. In private, his sweet temperament comes out. He often grooms you with his tongue as an act of affection and relishes in your gentle caresses when you pet or groom him in return. Watching his eyes close as he relaxes is a nice feeling since he usually has his guard up.

🌌 He’s not playful. Dainsleif is kind of serious for a cat. He dutifully waits for you at the door like a dog whenever you leave the house and greets you with a loud meow when you return. He doesn’t play with the toys you got him and prefers to spend most of his time sitting by the window and staring outside with an expression you can only describe as wistful.

🌌 Likes to sample whatever food you’re having. Dainsleif eats his cat food just fine, but you notice that he’s often curious about what you’re eating. He can’t help but want to sniff and taste human foods since the unique scents and flavors entice him. You share a little bit of your food with him after making sure it’s safe for cats, and Dainsleif couldn’t be more grateful for your generosity. However, this led to him expecting you to share a bit of your food with him during every meal. He’ll look dejected if you don’t.

🌌 When not weighed down by his illness, Dainsleif is very agile and has good stamina. He’s well suited for traveling outdoors with you if it’s something you want to try and will stay by your side like a loyal guard dog the entire time.

🌌 He’s very pliant with you. He tolerates bathing and grooming like a trooper despite not being fond of it since you’re the only one he trusts. If someone else attempted to groom him, then Dainsleif would simply run off and hide. However, he allows you to maneuver him in whatever way you need to complete the work well, and he doesn’t even complain about it. He becomes the sweetest cat in your presence.

[starlightsalvatore]

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni

You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.

You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 

“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 

“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.

“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.

“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.

“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.

“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.

But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.

He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.

“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 

“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.

“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 

“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.

You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.

“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 

Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 

Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 

And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 

You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 

His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.

His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 

You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.

“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 

Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.

He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 

When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.

Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 

You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.

His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 

“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.

“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.

“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.

“A trip?” 

You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 

“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 

[l0v3tast3]

i need pervy older bf konig :(

good god. bro you and i are both so lucky i had today off. this was some good shit to write thank you very much for requesting this ( ◡‿◡ *) also ngl i really think i just don't know how to write characters not being possessive. it's just in my dna

✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, age gap (reader is 18/19, könig is mid-40's), mentioned loss of virginity, corruption/innocence kink, size difference, size kink, pet names, free use, posssessive!könig, exhibitionism, mention of violence (reader gets turned on by it dw), edging, dacryphilia, bondage, praise kink, reader calls könig "sir"

✎ word count: 1.4k words (not proofread)

✎ translations: "hase" = bunny , "liebling" = darling "mein schatz" = my darling/sweetheart , "mein herz" = my heart "mein kleiner hase" = my little bunny (please correct me if anything is wrong, i'll edit it whenever i get the chance!)

masterlist | requests

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who is just obsessed with his darling little girlfriend. he loves everything about you, how small you are against him, how easy you are to manhandle and twist around, so happy to just have him touch you however he wants. how you always crane your neck up to look at him with such adoration in your pretty eyes, even when he makes you do the nastiest things for him.

✧ ˖ ° ever since the first time he sunk into you, your first time where you couldn't even take his whole dick (it took you a few rounds to fit it all in), he just can't get enough of you. the whimper when he pops his fat head through your tiny hole, how you dig your nails in and gasp for breath the further he pushes in, it's straight up addicting to him. könig's favorite thing is seeing you fall deeper and deeper into the pleasure he gives you, seeing you become more and more corrupted by his huge hands and cock.

✧ ˖ ° he's got such a kink for your innocence and naivety; his heart skips a beat every time you think it can't get any better, and then it does and your little body doesn't even know how to handle it. könig will try every position, every kink his expansive mind can come up with with you.

✧ ˖ ° it always starts with him pulling you over one of his thighs (it strains your legs too much to try and sit over both of them without his help) and him dragging your hips back and forth across it. his hands cover the entire expanse of your thighs and the globes of your ass, fingertips digging in until it's just on the edge of bruising. always soaking up your little whimpers, how you dig your nails into his shoulders and hide your face in his chest. "hase, my little bunny, does that feel good? look at me, liebling, answer me. always so shy when i have you like this. it feels good, yes? are you going to cum for me? heh, what is it, you need more, liebling? ask me nicely for more, then."

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who steals your underwear and most of the clothes you pack when you come over and pretends to have no idea where it all went. oh well, guess you'll just have to wear his clothes! it's such a shame that you don't have any underwear left until he does the laundry that he keeps "forgetting" about. it's so sad that you have nothing clean left to wear except his t-shirts that almost reach your knees.

✧ ˖ ° he just loves being able to come up to you in the kitchen, lift you up onto the island counter and run his hands up your thighs until his thumb covers your clit. you always get so squirmy when he does that, bucking your hips into his hand and clawing at his arm. könig chuckles and teases you about how needy you are for him, how you're such a dirty little girl for walking around with no underwear. "don't you know how men are, mein schatz? they'll snatch you up every chance they get," he mutters in your ear, the hand that wasn't shoving two fingers into you gripping your hip to keep you still.

✧ ˖ ° when you start stuttering out little pleas and fumbling with his belt he relents. he pushes you flat against the counter and kneels to lick a sloppy stripe up your pussy, never forgetting his dedication to not hurting you (not in a way you didn't like, at least). and when he's finally lifting your hips up to line up your sopping hole with his dick, he tells you how much of a good girl you are for letting him use you like this, whenever he wants.

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who gets off on having you sit on his lap in public; in front of anyone, really. könig knows that his overwhelming size and heavy stare makes him live up to his name of "king", and having a pretty little thing like you in his lap just completes the picture. he doesn't admit it, but you know it's an ego boost for him every time.

✧ ˖ ° it just makes him so happy to have you so close! he tells you it helps him with his social anxiety, having you there to calm him down. especially when he invites over his friends, other colonels and military men. könig knows you always feel out of place, feeling like you're going to hear something you shouldn't. he just coos reassurances in your ears and rubs his hands up and down your thighs, fingertips grazing just below the hem of the pretty dress he had asked you to put on. "relax, hase, it's okay for you to be here. mein schatz, mein herz, you know i would never let anyone harm you. i would break their neck before they even came close."

✧ ˖ ° you somehow always end up trying to discreetly white-knuckle his wrist that's buried between your legs. könig plays poker with the rest of the men, pretending very well that three of his fingers aren't knuckle deep inside you. everyone knows, they grow to expect it at this point. you're just so obvious, squirming and glancing up at him anxiously and trying desperately to cover up the tiny moans you let out. then he'll finally lean down and whisper in your ear, telling you to be good and cum; you can't possibly hide the way you shake and arch your back or the choked whimpers. but the men carry on with their game, barely sparing a second glance at you (they still shift in their seats, sneak a hand down to readjust), talking amongst themselves.

✧ ˖ ° "you see, mein kleiner hase, they know to not even look at you too long. they know you're mine, just well as you do, right?" könig says lowly while he wipes his fingers off on your thighs. he's pulling you closer to him so you can feel the outline of his hardon pressed against your ass. you nod and mumble a little "yes, sir" and he pats your stomach where he's holding you against him. "good girl. don't worry, liebling, we are almost done here. i'll stuff you full soon enough, just be patient a little longer."

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who always has nothing but praise for you except for when you act up. he wasn't the kind of man to take insubordination lightly usually; you couldn't be if you wanted to be a colonel. instead of his usual punishments (making subordinates run suicides until they dropped) he likes tying you down and edging you until you're sobbing for him to let you cum, to untie you, anything.

✧ ˖ ° it's not that he enjoys seeing you cry (he loves it in this context), he just needs to teach you a lesson, to make sure you know your bratty actions have consequences. it just brings könig so much joy to reduce you to a brainless, overstimulated mess, whining pleas between hiccups and gasps for air. hearing you cry out, "no- nono please könig, please sir m'sorry, m'so sorry! ha-a- please, please let me cum, m'sorry, please-", is like an angel's choir to his ears. he knows you think he's being cruel and unfair, but könig is always going easy on you. you still are his sweet little girl, after all, he could never hurt you too much!

✧ ˖ ° he won't let up though until he's making you say whatever nasty things he wants, until you're so desperate that you completely forget about being shy. "have i taught you your lesson, hase? hm, i don't know if you have yet. tell me what you want- i know you want to cum, liebling, what do you want me to do about that? you want me to fuck you? ask properly, tell me you want my thick cock in your tiny pussy. you need it, don't you? tell me you need it, you need to feel me deep inside you. hah, alright mein kleiner hase, i believe you. it's alright, shh, mein herz, you did so well for me, let me reward you now."

[crowgvts]

How to start a pair of punk patch pants

(a potentially really shitty tutorial)

I've seen a couple videos on this but a lot of them seem to skip out on some really key information and tricks so I thought I'd just write a probably really long and really rambly post about it!!!

Step one: gathering supplies

In terms of supplies the main things you'll need are:

The pants

Approximately 4 rolls of dental floss (this can change depending on number of patches and your pant size)

A needle with a big enough eye to fit the floss through

Acrylic paints

Brushes

Scrap denim or other scraps of fabric for the patches

Pins

Some kind of marker or pencil that will work on the fabric you've chosen

I will be going into some detail below about why you need each of these items!!

The pants themselves

personally I prefer either using a pair of jeans I already own or thrifting a pair to be as sustainable as possible, however if you really need to go out and buy a new pair for whatever reason get a high quality pair, this will help in the long run with preventing them from falling apart as easily.

The second main point I want to make is that the pants should not be skinny jeans. This is because when you sew on patches it slightly cinches in the fabric, and with skinny jeans generally being stretchy, this is going to result in the thread of the patches stretching out and snapping. Your patches will all just start falling off and it'll ruin your hard work.

This is why I'd recommend using a pair of jeans or pants that are a bit looser of a fit, such as straight legged pants or a pair of pants a size up from your actual size if possible!

Dental floss

The reason it's generally suggested to use dental floss rather than actual thread is because dental floss tends to overall be a lot stronger than your average thread, as well as often being more easily accessible to buy.

Needle

This ones pretty self-explanatory, just make sure you get a needle with a long/wide enough eye (the hole the thread goes through) for your floss to be able to fit through without trouble.

Acrylic paints

You may be wondering why I'm suggesting acrylics over fabric paints and there are a few reasons!

The first is simply that they're both cheaper and far easier to purchase for the average person than fabric paints, and I want this tutorial to be as accessible as possible for as many people as possible.

The second reason is that fabric paints require a lot of fucking around with setting the paint, whereas acrylics can just be left to dry and be finished, and so long as your pants are hand washed, the paints won't come out (unless you layer it on super thick or are really rough when you clean them).

Brushes

Another pretty obvious one, these are needed so you can actually paint your patches!!!

Fabric/spare denim

You need fabric or scraps to be able to actually create patches for your pants, so this is essential.

Any kind of scrap fabric can do, a lot of fabric stores tend to have bins of scrap fabric that are either pre-priced or priced by weight and that can be a really good opportunity to acquire the fabric you need!

Another way (the method I tend to use) is thrifting a few pairs of jeans alongside the pair I want to patch and then ripping them up into patch-sized pieces!

Either way, I really advise against buying straight up new fabrics by the metre for this as it kinda goes against the entire idea of sustainability and reuse.

A really big tip I have for when you're cutting the fabric of your choice up for patches is to actually only cut a little slit, and then rip. This produces a really nice distressed edge and will help add some texture and more of a fucked up look to your pants a lot quicker than if you waited for the fabric to fray by itself!

Marker/pencil

This is literally just so you can draw your designs onto your patches! I've personally found that either a black or white (depending on how dark the fabric you're using is) pastel pencil is generally good enough to get the general gist of what you want down well enough for you to paint it on.

Pins

These are literally just to hold your patches in place and literally any kind from proper sewing pins to safety pins will work! (just don't forget they're in the jeans before you put them on I promise you it isn't fun to put on a pair of jeans full of pins).

Optional: a sketchbook

You may want a sketchbook or alternatively scraps of paper if you have any kind of original concept for a patch so you can draw it out a few times first to really nail it, and it's also helpful to have if you aren't as confident in your painting and drawing abilities!

Step two: patch making

I personally pre-rip/cut all of my patches before I paint anything on them generally speaking and then fit whatever design I want onto whatever piece I think it would fit on, however if you want to paint your patches and then rip/cut the design out that's also an option (and probably a much smarter one I'm just incredibly stubborn).

For punk pants you want a good mix of both punk bands, politics, and also maybe something a bit daft (I have the "he scream at he own ass" possum on the back pocket of a patched skirt for example). If you don't have bands and such, it kinda defeats the point of them being punk patched pants.

I personally generally pick a theme (eg. colourful patches, all black and white) when making anything patched because I think it makes everything look a bit more cohesive, but that is by no means a rule you actually have to follow I'm just autistic a fuck tbh.

Step three: the assembly

I personally put my main/bigger patches on first and put them on in a few different places until I get the placement I like, and then sew them on with the floss like this:

The main thing you want to do to make sure your pants don't wind up looking a bit weird or bare is to fill in any gaps between your painted patches with small, blank patches. Like this:

and that's pretty much it!!! I can't really explain via written text how to sew and how I personally tie off etc but if anyone would like a video tutorial lmk!!!

[azrielbrainrot]

Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should he seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him, as the other met to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

[helaintoloki]

hi can you do a ben hargreeves angst where klaus is still able to see him in season 3 and he sees how close y/n has gotten to ben sparrow you can do whatever you want with it

warnings: language, lots of angst

notes: okay i actually loved writing this you are a genius for coming up with this scenario

summary: Ben is forced to watch you fall for a completely different version of him

Ben once thought having to watch the woman you love live her life without knowing you looked on as a spirit incapable of communicating with her was the worst fate imaginable.

But he was wrong.

Watching the woman you love grow close to another version of you while you can do absolutely nothing to interfere was more torturous than any other possible outcome.

Ben absolutely loathed the Sparrow with his entire being. He couldn’t understand why you would even consider trying to get to know the man- he was a complete jerk, absolutely hostile, and not at all understanding or compassionate to the dilemma your team found yourselves in. Ben also thought his haircut was stupid, and the Sparrow’s demeanor gave the ghost a sense of second-hand embarrassment every time he talked.

And yet you were drawn to the man like a magnet, and how could you not be? He looked and sounded exactly like what you imagined your Ben would have if he had survived the accident and been able to grown into an adult alongside you. Despite his callousness and his blatant lack of trust in you, you were eager to learn more. Did he like the same things your Ben did? Did they share the same interests? Were their mannerisms the same? You desperately needed to know, and the Sparrow did not deny you this. Though he held a certain sense of disdain for your team, he wasn’t prideful enough to turn down the company of a pretty girl who seemed to follow him around like a lost puppy. He took advantage of your kindness and your vulnerability, and your Ben hated that he could do absolutely nothing to stop this.

You sit on a lone bench and watch as the Sparrow completes his workout for the day. He’s allowed you to tag along so long as you don’t get in the way, and you agreed. You’re completely mesmerized by his toned arms and grunts of effort that escape his lips as he lifts weights, and Ben can only roll his eyes.

“Seriously? This guy?” He asks you in exasperation, but of course, you don’t hear him at all. This doesn’t deter him from continuing his attempt to persuade you to stay away from the Sparrow. “You are way too good for an asshole like him. He’s just using you to feed his ego!”

“Do you like to read?” You ask the man as he sets down his weights and reaches for his towel to wipe off the sweat from his brow.

“Read?” He retorts haughtily, almost offended by the notion. “What am I, a nerd?”

Ben knows neither of you can see him, and yet he flips the man off anyway in response to his answer. Your shoulders visibly deflate at his words, and the ghost can only frown and attempt to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. It goes right through you, the coldness prompting you to shiver involuntarily, but it makes him feel better to know you can at least sense him in some way.

“My Ben liked reading, so I just thought maybe you would too,” you offer meekly, prompting the Sparrow to roll his eyes.

“Alright, new rule. You wanna hangout with me? Then don’t bring up ‘your’ Ben. Got it?”

“Right, sorry,” you murmur quietly while awkwardly fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. You hover over the one on your index, the purple gem gleaming in the light. Ben knows that ring because he gave you that ring, and that’s why it nearly kills him all over again when he watches you hurriedly remove it and hide it away in the pocket of your sweater.

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for being you,” he gently reprimands you with a sigh before focusing his harsh gaze on his lookalike. “And you should stop being a dick to quite possibly the nicest girl you’ll ever meet. You don’t deserve her, and I’ll never understand why the universe decided you should get to have her.”

Of course, his lecture is unheard and has no impact on the scene that unfolds before him. He watches in gut wrenching agony as the Sparrow seats himself beside you on the bench, his rough hand coming to rest gently upon your thigh and squeezing to get your attention. Your eyes almost seem to sparkle as you look up at him in search of validation for your efforts to get to know him. There’s a shift in the air that fills Ben with dread, and despite all his efforts to stop it he can do nothing to prevent your lips from meeting the man’s in a purposeful kiss.

Your heart flutters in your chest as the Sparrow pulls away and carefully tucks your hair behind your ear, his voice coming out in a soft whisper as he says, “You’re with me now. Forget about him.”

And to Ben’s absolute horror, you obediently offer a silent nod in agreement to his command.