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sea-of-dust · 1 day

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Aventurine,Acheron,Boothill x GN! Reader

When your lovers away for a long time, they come back more needy than usual

N: brain EXPLOSION RAAAAA (I'm going insane) also shout out to @lynettess for bringing the cowboy hat thing into play

Warnings: Might be ooc (made before boothills relase, havent finished pelecony), suggestive scenes, swearing, bullet munchin

He's already a very loving partner also pretty clingy you can't sit next to him without him sitting so close he can feel you breathe, of course if you tell him to back off he would but he'll act hurt about it

You would play games with him, and he'd nearly always try to get a prize if he wins. "My my, if we were to play this going forward, how about a small kiss if I win?" And then you'd beat him 5-3, you can't tell if it's on purpose

He'd show you off alot, so you'd hide behind him. "Stelle meet my future spouse" he presents what he presumes is where your standing only for there to just be air. "The couch?" "What?" His head wips to see nothing, his tone turning somber "Where did they go" he begins to turn around looking around the room with you staying behind him, putting your finger up to ur lips. "They were just here. I'll introduce you guys next time" he sighs, letting Stelle walk out.

He likes to take lots of pictures with you, holding you while you turn away from the camrea. He'd never post them online, but you'd catch him looking at them and chuckling softly to himself

You'd try to show him a really simple magic trick, and then he'd just do it way better. "Watch this" you spread out cards. "Pick a card, any card" he narrows his eyes, smirking when he shows you the card he picked. "Alright" you move it back in the deck move 5 cards, and reveal his "is this your card?" You show it off. "Wow!" He claps in amazement. " I should show you one of my own" he takes the deck and shuffles, telling you to pick a card, and without hesitation, flips over your card along with that the kings of the deck. "Woah" he'd make it his mission to impress you with magic tricks

He's very into the thought of you praising him for something, you catch him daydreaming it's most likely of you holding his hands, a nearly fully red face. "You're so good at this, you're amazing honey" the wide smirk on his face seals the fact he's thinking of your praise. When you do praise him, you could tell he's internally freaking out "You look great today" you smile at him "and what about the other days?" "You just look especially pretty today" You wrap your arms around his neck, giggling at his remarks, "you should pinch me" "I can assure you, you aren't dreaming"

He'd hit you with trick questions. Not straight-fowardly asking them instead leading into them. "You haven't been to the Grand Theater, have you? I heard the family might appear" "sounds pleasant, I guess someone will post a video of them appearing or something" "they don't interest you?" "Not really" if he did actually ask you a trick question straight up, you knew he'd be joking. "Hey, would you love me if I was a worm?" You look at him up and down "did you get possessed?" "Maybe I have, the only way to get rid of the ghost is to answer!" "Of course I would. I'd have to find a way to preserve your clothing tho" "they would shrink with me"

He'd be interested in an activity you were doing, the type to try and play word games with you. "It's enjoy" "there's no j" "seriously?". Trying to join in mundane tasks folding laundry? You should let him help it'll go by faster. Cleaning your fan? Glad you got it open. Let's clean the blades together! "It feels colder now" he lays next to it, letting the cool air smack his face. "It's probably gonna get dirty in a months time" you sigh watching him enjoy the air with closed eyes, you watch his hair fly in the wind his calm smile. "I should do this more often with you" muttering our without a care "you should"

He can't be away from you for too long it'll show, eye bags rubbing said eyes, sighing so much people start counting. He'd start texting you during work. "Get back to work" "you sound like Mr krabs" "next I'll start making the sound when he walks" his co workers would catch him staring at his phone and giggling to himself over you. Him comming home you know he's making it a romance scene. Roses in hand he opens the door, watching your eyes light up not even looking at the flowers he had gotten, embracing him as soon as you saw him. "I should start hiding your keys" "that would be nice"

He wouldn't waste any time as soon as that doors closed he's not letting you go. He wants to feel your touch, your stares, the way your voice makes his heart skip a beat. He's earned it after working this hard. Your teasing over the phone didn't make it any better either. "You're such a jerk teasing me over the phone" he smiles to himself kissing your cheeks as you move your face, avoiding his lips. "And even now" he holds your hands his grip firm, finally landing a kiss on your lips. He makes it last long, you might evade again. It was sloppy to say the least, like he was trying to get every bit of energy out of you, only pulling anyway to catch a breath before going in for a few more. "I should start bringing you along"

She blames you for getting lost sometimes, you can't be so...thought provoking... is what she says its her way of saying, "I think about you so much It makes my sense of direction worse"

She's quite awkward when it comes to showing affection, but she does have ways to show it. She'd hold your pinky while walking in public, leaning on you. She's not going to be very touchy, and these momments usually don't last long, but watching her slowly get flustered just makes it better

She'd sometimes believe things you've told her. "I remmber seeing a cat fly" "im sure it was a dream" "did you know you could make an egg explode?" "How?" "Really bad cooking" she'd fall for the water cup broom on the ceiling thing. Not that you've been evil enough to try it on her and risk it all

You'd get scared when she'd just randomly know what you're talking about. "God its been like a trillion years how are these songs still existing" "I know right I feel like a monsters a relic crazy to think" you furrow your eyebrows. "Did you just hear it recently?" "Yea it's really good" "Uh huh" the most terrifying thing about her is the fact that she's into 2000s emo music and not her memmories

Taking her out to Golden hour she's pretty shit at the games. "What do I do?" "You gotta pull the leaver and see if it lands on what you want" "ok" she pulls it nearly shattering the poor leaver as it spins, landing the max prize. "Goodjob" you clap for her as she goes for the prize, giving it to you. "You won it it's yours" "after spending your credits" scoffing she pulls you to another she wanted to try. Your room service is not gonna be happy seeing a wave full of prizes

Thoughts of trying to keep you from leaving have crossed her mind. Eating your keys, clinging onto you, wagging her finger at you, leaving with you. Scary guard dog privileges.

She'd try to sneak up to you and land a peck on the cheek only for you to turn and kiss her on the lips. "Caught you" you remark in a teasing tone. "I'll catch you off guard" you scoff "I can't wait to see your attempts"

She'd blush over face touching. Poking her nose after staring at her in silence, moving food from her cheek, kissing her cheek. It was strange watching her breath begin to heavy while keeping eye contact. "I've never seen you act like this before" she covers her mouth looking away, you hold her other hand up to your mouth and kiss it watching her get even more flustered

She would go off by herself for a few days. Texting you pictures of things that she thought you'd be interested in and engaging in small talk. There wouldn't be many words exchanged, but when she came back, you wouldn't even know, she gave you a time frame and then would appear 3 days before expected. Opening the door and meeting her eyes, she'd enter silently. "Do you want me to make you something?" "The tea you bought last time was great" you smile going to the kitchen

She'd sit there quietly, fiddling with her hand, her head fuzzy filled with thoughts. Finally getting up, she leans onto you. "You might get burned" her head leans into your neck. "Like I care" kissing your neck, her hands wander near your waist, gripping your clothes. "I missed you" speaking up letting her finally get a peck on the lips, a few more until she finally says "I missed you more" she wouldn't stop kissing you until saliva connects your mouths. Watching her realize what she had just done. Her eyes look to your lips and neck, embracing you from behind she lays her head on your shoulder. "It'll be a while, stay like that as long as you want"

"We should make out" "what?!" Keep doing that to him and you've got a dead cowboy on the street of pelecony. The most deadpan voice and just you suggesting things is gonna make the poor guy evaporate.

He gets flustered oddly easily yet he flirts with you relentlessly. "I seem to have lost myself in your eyes" you scoff, moving his hair from his eye behind his ear "you should have paid closer attention you would have seen my spouse" "what now?" It would take him too long to get it, and when he does, he's practically blowing steam out of every circuit.

He'd get a bit upset if you refused to borrow his hat. Does it smell? Is it itchy? Do you not love him?! Why do you look at it like that. "Just to be sure, does this of any lice?" "." "Can cyborgs get lice" "no" he says it super quickly yet doesn't actually know as you kept staring holes into that poor hat, when you finally wore it he felt like he could breathe. He felt bald, but you looked charming with it on. He's gonna have to let you keep that one he'll buy a new one

Letting you wear his hat, he wondered if you knew the meaning of that gesture. "Y/n" "yes?" "I've given you my hat" "yea?" He tries to hold back a frown. "I already know you want to see me alot Boothill" His face turns a bright pink. "Maybe I should give it back even though I'm not a cowboy i dont mind seeing you more often" he covers his face with his hands turning away from you with tightly closed eyes

He'd ask you to help him on the most specific cyborg problem. "Can you help me with this" he shows you his hand "with what?" "One of the cords are taken off" "I'm gonna call a mechanic" "man" he'd look at you as if betrayed. "How could you" written all over his face.

He'd drag you to karoke with him, and then judge you like the average chorus teacher. "You're pitch isn't right, go higher for it" "alright og diva" "WELCOME TO MY WOOOOORLLLLDDD" his voice cracks,atleast he's having fun you mumble along with him.

The first time you witnessed him causally eat bullets, you were disgusted. "What?" "I mean, do they taste good?" "I guess?" You still do judge him so he faces away from you when he does. Opponents would tease him for this only to have the same reaction. "Turning away?! You must doubt-" munch munch "ew bro wtf?"

You shouldn't let him drift off on a couch, hed wake up like he's seen the future, when he dreamed about you. "Wake up~" "y/n.." "what took you so long I got bored" you pout, pulling his hat down to his eyes. He chuckles, pulling it back up letting you get a peck in. "You shouldn't have left me alone for so long" you pout, blowing his ear. He's pink, too flustered to even wrap his arms around you. Then he wakes up and looks at you, the softness of your gaze makes him weak

He's dazed, in another world when he has to leave for a long time. Why? You're probably making mug cakes without him! He can't be gone for more than a week without going into a bathroom and sitting on a toilet, just regretting a few life decisions. So when get gets back and sees you just about to start giving into your mug cake related intrusive thoughts he nearly cried, causually wrapping his arms around your waist "well well if it isn't my lovely spouse" "Boothill" the way you speak, the look in your eyes when you see him, the softness of your face, the calm in your expressions. "You there?" you knock on his chest interrupted by a kiss on the forehead, his hands taking up yours. "I missed you" you manage to mutter out as he continues to kiss you all over. "You have no idea how much I've missed you" he barely gave you enough time to breath between eatch kiss, desperate for more. The kisses begin to get more sloppy, his grip on your hands tighter.

"You keep haunting my dreams" he mutters, finally pulling away. "Wonder what I did in them" teasing him, you kiss his cheek. Noticing his hesitation. "What do you dream of me doing" tilting your head, you lean into his ear, he pulls away. "So that's what you dream of" You move his hair away from his face, seeing his flustered expression. "You're adorable"

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evidenceof · 2 days

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Winnix Country, I'll take you there.

Winnix fic recs finally! I clawed through pages 1-61 on AO3 and then scoured through Dreamwidth because I just need this ship injected into my brain.

Just so we're all aligned, I'm very much into "Classic" Winnix. And while generally I do still read AUs, much of what I keep close are the ones that are entrenched in, before, and after the war. Still enjoy a bit of the supernatural though. So please forgive the lack of non-WWII AUs. :') Ok onward.

Note: All links in blue are restricted to logged-in AO3 users! So hopefully you have an account so you can read some gold.

5+1 tag

The Way I Wear Your Hat by Muccamukk - I will consume anything Mucca writes and live in it for at least two weeks.

Let Me Be Close by armyofbees - So tooth achingly sweet, tender in post-war. Nix combing Dick's hair? I'm so.

I'm Alright Now You're Here by @stopstopstopit - A.k.a. Dick and Nix going, "Was I truly that blind???" about each other and everyone in Easy Company saying, "Yeah." So good, so, so fun. Giggled like a maniac all throughout.

Pre-War

Before the World Begins by rilla (@flomps)- The first time I read this, I cried. Then again the second, third, fourth, etc. Lew and Dick meet in NY before Benning, before everything, and it's under very different circumstances. I love the characterization of Nix and Dick in this so much and the gentleness in the midst of all the smut. A TALENT!

Lancaster County by rachelelpillo - Technically not pre-war because this is an AU where it happens without them. It's bittersweet, but emphasis on the sweet. Teenage Dick and Nix and a whole summertime of falling in love.

Bicostal by dancinguniverse - I am a sucker for anything that starts at OCS. I love this and the telegrams and letters tucked within it.

Wartime

Bird Wedding by rachelelpillo - The way she writes anything really sounds like a summer day to me. This one is very understated and just wonderful if you want something that leaves you smiling. (Highly recommend you go through her work, last she posted was in 2010. :') )

And at Your Touch, I Burn by Muccamukk- CHRIST. A SICK!FIC. God I love this for so many reasons, one of them being just the incredible way Mucca describes the field exercise, the crawl and length of it. And Dick getting sick. Nix doing what he does. It's wonderful. It's perfect.

Vampire Overhead! by joissant - There's a little Vampire!Nix AU for you. In the midst of Bastogne and hunger, there is this and it's fucking fantastic.

love divine, all loves excelling by @flanneryoconnorfanfiction - The way my heart soared all throughout this fic. Religion, for many reasons is often the point of friction for Dick, and this one turns it over its head. It's reverent and (so) joyful and honestly, probably what God should feel like. There are not enough kudos-es in the world.

Post-War

Head Trip by @ezlebe - Two lines from this fic ring in my head daily, that's how much I loved every bit of it. And I mean who isn't a sucker for Operation Varsity-adjacent fics? Harry's in this so it's automatically just extra wonderful for me. I LOVE!! I absolutely love.

Like a Bird on the Wire by semperama - Them coming home without an established relationship is always a trope enjoy. Blanche Nixon is here being cheeky, and Dick is all smiley, Lewis is stressed the fuck out. It all makes for a wonderful get-together.

More than a Team by @mercurygray - I love reading about Ann Winters and I love seeing Nix and Dick navigate those familial relationships after the war. This is short and so, so sweet. Every bit as wonderful as the ice cream.

thyme and rosemary by @oatflatwhite - Yet another one where Ann Winters makes a wonderful cameo. Dick is trying not to be miserable and he keeps writing all these unsent letters to Lew. Featuring the cutest kitten ever.

Series

What Things We Have Heard Together by joissant (4 works) - Quite possibly required reading for Winnix enthusiasts. Feels like such a gift to be able to thread through so many points in their relationship and everyone else tangled in their orbit.

Winnix from the POV of other people Oh my god I love outsiders-looking in fics of the two of them.

Transcript by Corvid Cordelia - LISTEN. If you love Easy Company, you love Winnix, Webgott, Spierton, etc, they're all here. It's such a treat for people who fell in love with everyone's personalities in BoB.

Women in Conversation by shiveringpinkala - Ann Winters tries to surprise her brother and it doesn't go quite as planned. Blanche is in this too so it makes it extra delightful. Love this fic.

Entendre by @thrillingdetectivetales - Harry Welsh has no fucking clue what Buck Compton is implying about Winters and Nixon but he's gonna find out. Again, I love Harry Welsh with all of me.

A special mention to String Quartet No. 14 by @oatflatwhite for a HS AU that had me kicking my feet and smiling all the way to the very last word.

If you have similar favorites, PLEASE LET'S TALK ABOUT THEM. There's still a lot I'd like to re-read and revisit so this will highly likely be updated in the future. I'd love to hear your favorites too. <3

#winnix #evidenceofrecs #dick winters #richard winters #lewis nixon #band of brothers #BoB #fic rec

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 1 day

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Rick Grimes: Insomnia NSFW

Broadening my fandom horizons. My first TWD story and I’m excited to write more for Rick!

The night is pleasantly cool, and the grassy area provides a decent cushion under you. The group had all managed to reunite and were trudging along after leaving Terminus looking for a safe place to make permanent residence. You were all exhausted but safe and together. Rick was lying behind you, holding you securely to his chest. His breath was warm and even against your neck. All in all, it was the best-case scenario in a crappy situation, except for one thing.

You couldn’t sleep.

Your body was exhausted and sinking into the ground in relief, ready for sleep. Your brain was not on the same page. It was going a million miles an hour in hundreds of different ways. You had bouts of insomnia throughout your life, but this one had to take the cake. You tried to lay still. Everyone was still on high alert and extra movement and rustling could easily wake up any of the sleeping parties. Not to mention Rick who had always been a light sleeper. “Ya need to get some sleep darlin’.” Rick’s voice is rough, his calloused hand tailing down your thigh to stop your unconscious jiggling.

“I’m trying,” You whisper back in frustration. You want to sleep. You know tomorrow will be another long day of walking without a destination. If you had to fight off walkers or another group of people without having any sleep again tonight, you weren’t sure you would make it. Not unless the group pulled your weight on top of their own. “I’m so tired, Rick.” You felt a few tears mist your eyes, as embarrassment flooded you at your whiney remark.

You feel a soft kiss on your shoulder as he hushes you. You shift against him trying to get comfortable. His hand caresses up your side soothingly. His sweetness starts making you feel worse. Just because you had barely been able to sleep the last week didn’t mean that he should have to suffer through it with you. “I can almost hear ya thinkin’ baby.” His strong hand slips under your shirt rubbing your stomach in gentle circles. His fingers inch closer to your waistband until the tips sneak under.

“Rick,” You gasp, your hand going over his trapping it against your body to keep it from moving southward. “What are you doing?”

“Turnin’ off that mind o’ yours.” He kissed down your neck, his beard scrapping at the delicate skin. His movements are slow and his words are slightly slurred. He is exhausted and half asleep himself. You try to object but he unbuttons your pants with a flick of his wrist. The zipper slides down as his hand pushes deeper cupping you through your underwear. “Let me take care o’ ya.” You stroke up his forearm as he rubs you through your cotton panties. You lean back farther into him as his other hand snakes around you kneading your breast. It’s been too long since he touched you like this. Even exhausted your body responds to him, arousal pooling in your lower stomach.

You turn your head down and into his arm to muffle your moan as he slips a finger inside of you. He pumps it inside you a few times before adding another. You shift to open your thighs wider for him. It makes the angle deeper and Rick curls his fingers expertly. You whimper louder than you mean to when he hits a particularly sensitive spot, and he hushes you. He knows your body and he doesn’t tease; every movement is purposefully pushing you towards your release. You rock your hip as he rubs firm circles on your clit.

“Rick,” You breathe nails digging into his arm. You are close and he knows it. His other hand comes up to cover your mouth. He sucks on your neck and doubles his efforts on your clit while keeping a steady thrusting of his fingers. You open your mouth to gasp, and he slips his finger inside. You moan sucking on them as your orgasm rushes through you. He works you through it making the orgasm linger, sparks of pleasure curling your toes in your worn boots.

Your body goes limp, melting into him boneless. Your vision is still blurred from your orgasm and Rick still slowly caressing you. Your mind is blissfully blank, exhaustion echoing through your body. You feel Rick’s beard scratch at your neck, and you are sure he is saying something, but you can’t make out the words. You just hum your agreement falling into a deep sleep before his hand can leave your underwear.

#the walking dead #twd #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes imagine

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poledancingdinos · 2 days

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Hostile Territory - Chapter 24

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: Angst

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @athenepromachos @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019 @rosecentury

Day 215

Meetings were undoubtedly the worst invention in the history of humanity. Okay, there were some worse inventions but Sy couldn’t think of any, what with having used up all his brain power justifying every decision he’d made in the past year.

“What about the girl?”

Sy clenched his jaw to keep from barking the wrong thing. “Corporal Coleman? What about her?”

He hated the detached tone of his own voice. It was not a tone a man should ever use when talking about the woman he loved.

“The only reason she’s made it this far is because she had excellent marksmanship scores and had the best performance out of all the women during the physical fitness tests but she was completely untested in the field. Seeing now that she was injured within her first week tells me she isn’t cut out for this.”

“With all due respect Sir, she suffered minor injuries where many of my other men would have gone home in a bag. She more than proved herself to be field ready during her time at Warhorse and it would be foolish to exclude her from this next mission and separate her from her squad. Sergeant Fuller’s entire team is thrivin’ under his command.”

Some of the men around the table nodded in understanding but the man at the head of the table pursed his lips. “We’ll take that into consideration.”

Luckily the man to his left didn’t seem to share the same backwards opinion about women in the military and intervened on Leah’s behalf.

“Whatever group is selected will be performin’ a month long trainin' exercise before their mission. I suggest that we allow Corporal Coleman to participate and re-evaluate at a later date.”

“Yes,” the old fucker eventually agreed, “I suppose that would be acceptable.” It was obvious those words tasted terrible coming out of his mouth. “Are there any pain points we need to watch out for? How is she taking orders?”

Sy shifted in his seat, working hard to keep his mind from going to inappropriate places. This was not the time for his dick to go half-mast.

“She obeys them if that’s the question.” It was a half truth but there was no way Sy would give them any ammunition against Leah. She obeyed orders when it mattered, that was the most important thing. There wouldn’t be a repeat of the Niki incident so there was no point in bringing it up.

“Right. That brings us to our next point of attention.”

Sy may or may not have partially checked out after that. The rest of the meeting was marginally better with the knowledge that Leah was going to be given a shot. It didn’t sound like they were giving her a fair shot but at least she would have the chance to prove herself. And the memory of Leah being very good at taking orders.

Day 216

Leah startled as a heavy bag was dropped at her feet, nearly spilling her overpriced latte.

“Damn, Coleman, what’s got you looking like someone just kicked your puppy?”

BJ fell into the seat across from her, causing the chair to creak under his weight. His comment fell short of making her smile but she made an effort to show she was pleased to see him..

“I’m sorry, are you lost, kiddo? Do you need me to help you find your mommy?”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Princess.”

Leaning back, Leah pulled her hair over her shoulder, running it through her fingers. Even beardless, one could not describe BJ as having a baby face but it would definitely take some getting used to.

“I guess it doesn’t look so good if you don’t follow the grooming standards on your first day back from R&R.”

“No it does not.”

It hadn’t even occurred to her that Sy would have to do the same. He’d still been sporting his full beard when he’d left the night before.

“So… Any particular reason you’re just hanging out at the airport like a weirdo?”

That did succeed in making Leah crack a smile. Rolling her eyes, she kicked BJ under the table.

“I was savoring one last decent cup of coffee.”

BJ stole said cup, taking a sip. “You know that thing is stone cold right?”

“Maybe that’s what I ordered,” she grumbled, knowing very well that the cardboard sleeve on her cup was meant to protect you from the heat, not the cold.

She didn’t try to get her drink back. She’d only ordered it to have an excuse to sit on the comfortable bench in the cafe’s dining area rather than out by the doors.

“Do anything interesting while you were home?” BJ asked, taking a large gulp of the coffee, not at all bothered that it was no longer warm.

Leah knew he was fishing for juicy details about her and Sy but she wasn’t in the right headspace to talk about that.

“I got some new ink,” she said instead.

BJ perked up anyway. “No shit? Can I see?”

Leah grabbed her phone, finding the picture and handing it over.

“Looks fucking great, Coleman,” he said after a few moments of close inspection, zooming in and out. “Did you post this anywhere?”

“Uh, no. I just took it for me, why?”

“Oh, you know… your secret relationship might not stay secret for long if anyone spots what’s hanging over the back of that chair.”

Leah snatched the phone out of BJ’s hand, zooming in to see what the hell he was talking about. Sure enough, draped over the back of her desk chair was a very familiar red t-shirt.

“Fuck. BJ you can’t—”

“I know,” he assured, cutting her off. “I know what this could mean for the both of you.”

He raised his hand to his chin only to drop it as he remembered there was no beard left to stroke. After glancing behind him to make sure they were still alone in the back corner, BJ leaned forward on the table.

“This is gonna sound cold as fuck but I’m more worried about Sy than I am you. Sy’s already thirteen years in. Seven more and he gets his retirement which he really fucking deserves after the shit we’ve been through.”

Leah hadn’t considered that. A lot could happen in seven years but BJ was right that Sy losing his benefits after already serving so much time would suck.

“I don’t know what to do, BJ. The rules are clear about officer/enlisted relationships.”

At the very least, BJ looked genuinely sympathetic. “How long do you have left?”

He meant how long before her minimum commitment was up.

“About twenty-six months but I was planning to stay on afterwards.” If she didn’t get herself blown up first.

“Have you thought about becoming an officer? Then in a couple of years you guys could say you just started dating.”

She had and she’d already mentally crossed it out.

“I have less than half of an art degree, there’s no way I can possibly get the rest of my credits online from Warhorse.”

“Then you better make sure you get that shit locked up tight because you’ll both be fucked if word gets out.”

When they arrived at the base, the room was filled with the sound of soldiers greeting each other. Man hugs and pats on the back were exchanged all around. Leah’s boys enthusiastically lifted her in the air while the others mostly stuck to fist bumps.

Their reunion was interrupted by a shrill whistle and every head turned towards Sy. Leah’s breath hitched as she spotted her man standing in the doorway with arms crossed over his chest. His beardless face was no less attractive and just as stern. She didn’t like the way all the tension that had faded from his features over the last two weeks had returned. Leah continued to study him, appreciating how handsome he was in his full uniform, until her eyes fixed on his chest.

“I need team leaders with me.”

As the men followed Sy, a round of whispers erupted around the room.

“What is that all about?”

“Why do they need a briefing? I thought we were all going back to Baqubah.”

“It’s probably nothing. He’s probably just updating them on what has been going on at Warhorse since we’ve been gone.”

Leah continued to stare at the space Sy had occupied moments before.

“Coleman?” Ethan waved a hand in front of Leah’s face. “Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

Leah turned her head, finding three worried faces looking back at her.

“Cap’s uniform,” she said on an exhale.

Jer shook his head, not understanding what she was saying. “What about it?”

“Seriously?” When her voice came out as a panicked squeak, she cleared her throat. “Have you guys forgotten what it’s supposed to look like?”

Ethan’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit. Guys, she’s right.”

“About what?” Jer asked.

It was Rohan who responded for them. “We can’t call him ‘Cap’ anymore.”

The team leaders returned, Sy and his newly earned Major’s rank following close behind.

They gathered around Benjie, eager to hear what their orders were.

“We’re flying out but we aren’t going East. Don’t bother unpacking. We’re lifting off at fourteen hundred hours.”

As Leah ran around the base, she grew more and more worried she wouldn’t find Sy in time. She’d called five times with no answer and was down to only ten minutes before she absolutely had to be gone. He wasn’t in his room, the mess hall or the gym.

As it turned out, he’d been looking for her too.

“Coleman, finally.”

Relief swept over her at the sound of his voice. Though she wanted to run into his arms, she knew that there were eyes on them even if no one was around. She made her way to him at a very normal, not at all inappropriate, speed.

“What’s this?” she asked as Sy handed her a folded piece of paper.

“My parents' address down in Georgia. If ya ever feel like writin’, send it there and my parents will make sure I get it.”

Leah frowned as she took it.

“Why can’t I just send it straight to you?”

The muscles ticked in Sy’s jaw, fully visible now that he was clean shaven. His non-answer as he looked down at the ground was enough.

“Because you don’t want anyone to realize I’m writing to you,” she concluded, feeling like an utter fool.

A month ago she would never have even considered starting anything with Sy for that exact reason. In the safety of her hometown, surrounded by her friends and family, she’d forgotten all about how he could be the end of her career. The reminder that she could only ever be Sy’s dirty little secret was like a bucket of ice water being dumped over her head.

“There’s a reason this shit is forbidden, Leah. I had to sit in front of my superiors and defend why ya should be allowed to follow the rest of the team on this trainin’ exercise. If it came out that we were in a relationship, they would automatically assume it was all bullshit even if every word I spoke about your skills was true. If we get found out, they can’t ever know how far back it started. If they look into your history under my command there can’t be any signs of impropriety or favoritism.”

Leah couldn’t help but wonder if he was just saying that to make her feel better. It felt like a cruel twist on the classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. I’m not protecting my own ass, I’m protecting yours.

“You said that when our two weeks were over we wouldn’t be apart.”

Sy had to ball his hands into fists to keep from reaching for her. Leah’s face was a blank mask but he could see the tears forming in her eyes and could hear the way her voice broke.

“I know. This isn’t what I was expectin’ either. Hopefully we’ll both be somewhere where we can use our cellphones.”

He knew damn well that was unlikely, hence the slip of paper with his parents’ address. He was going back to Warhorse for a few weeks before moving to a still undetermined location. Neither of them knew where they would be a month from then, let alone a year.

“Did you conveniently forget to tell me you were up for a promotion? Even if they hadn’t taken us out of Baqubah, you being promoted would still have meant leaving Warhorse.”

Shaking his head, Sy looked down at the insignia on his chest. “I thought we’d have more time. Those things aren’t automatic at my grade.”

“Right.”

He was losing her. Every wall and defense he’d worked so hard to knock down was slowly being rebuilt right before his eyes and he felt powerless to stop it.

“Darlin’,” he murmured, making sure no one could possibly overhear. “This doesn’t change anything between us. The timin’ is shit, I’ll give ya that, but don’t think for a fuckin’ second that this changes us.”

“How can it not?”

The defeat in her voice broke his heart.

“I won’t lie and say I know how this is all gonna work. Fuck, the truth is I ain’t got a damn clue what to do here. Please, just give us a chance to figure this out.”

Leah blinked back the tears threatening to fall. Sy could tell she was battling the urge to push him away and spare herself further heartache. If she did, there was nothing he could do to stop her.

She shut her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her arms up and down like she was cold. They were silent for so long, Sy almost thought she wouldn’t say anything at all.

Then, in the greatest demonstration of her trust he could ever witness, she looked back up and spoke a whispered ‘okay’.

There was so much more that needed to be said but their time had run out.

“Coleman, Jesus, we’ve been looking all over for you, girl. We’re moving out.”

Leah quickly took two steps back. Luckily for them, Sy stood between her and Jer as he approached so he didn’t see how close the two had been standing.

“Thanks again, Major. Take care of Aika for me.”

Those shouldn’t have been their parting words. He should have told her he loved her. He should have made it clear that that wouldn’t change even with the distance. Instead, he’d lectured her about why their relationship was wrong when he’d been the one to push for it in the first place.

As he watched her walk away, Leah peaked over her shoulder. Not wasting his opportunity, he mouthed those oh so important words just as she turned the corner.

Moving on auto-pilot, Sy made his way back to his room. After unlocking the door and stepping inside, his foot suddenly slid out from under him. He narrowly avoided falling on his ass by catching hold of the doorframe.

“The fuck?”

He looked down at the large manila envelope which was blank save for his bootprint. Shutting the door, Sy leaned down to pick up the offending item. There was no way it was an official communication of any sort and there was only one person who would bother sliding something under his door.

Sy found a knife, cutting open the top of the envelope and carefully pulling out the contents. The yellow paper had gotten wrinkled from being stepped on but it seemed Leah had had the forethought to protect whatever was inside by putting it between two sheets of rigid cardboard.

Between them, Sy found an expensive looking piece of paper on which Leah had drawn in ink. It was a snarling wolf, the lines of its body bold and sharp unlike the matching pattern on his back which had faded from his shower and the friction of his clothing. She’d signed the image with her initials and added yesterday’s date.

That was when Sy lost it. Though he was tempted to hold the drawing close to his chest, he had just enough presence of mind to put it back in the envelope and set it on the table before sitting on the edge of the bed. There, with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands, Sy wept.

Day 214

Golden rays of sunlight filtering into the bedroom roused Sy from his deep slumber. Laying on his stomach with his face buried in a fluffy pillow, he almost let himself drift back to sleep but a strange tickling sensation running across his back forced his mind to slowly come back into awareness.

He kept his eyes closed as he took note of his surroundings—the cool air of the room on his naked back, the pitter patter of rain hitting the window, the lingering scent of cedar on her sheets. When he finally remembered where he’d fallen asleep the night before, he was easily able to identify the now familiar sensation of Leah’s marker gliding across his skin.

“What am I gettin’ this time?” he asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

She hadn’t done much drawing in the past ten days, preferring to enjoy the time they had together, but she’d pulled her sketchbook out once or twice. The day Sy stayed in one place long enough to buy his own couch he was going to get a couch that pulled out like Leah’s. It was perfect for lazy evenings spent cuddling together.

It had been raining almost non-stop for the past three days, forcing them to stay indoors. Not that Sy was complaining. Any time he could spend with Leah next to him was time well spent.

“I’m drawing Fenrir, it’s a creature from Norse mythology.”

Thinking back to his conversation with Niki about Leah’s drawings being her diary, he couldn’t help but be curious if this particular drawing had a hidden meaning behind it.

“I feel like I’ve seen the name before but I don’t remember what it looks like.”

“It’s basically a big angry wolf. The short version of the story is that there was a prophecy saying Fenrir would be involved in the demise of the Gods during Ragnarok. They tried preventing this by tricking Fenrir into allowing himself to be bound by requesting that he test the strength of the bindings. Fenrir obviously didn’t want to stay trapped so he requested a sign of good faith by holding the hand of a god in his jaws as they tested the ties. When he realized he wouldn’t be released, he bit the hand clean off. In the end he still broke free, unleashing chaos and devouring Odin before meeting his own end.”

Maybe it was best if Sy didn’t try to read too far into this one. They had enough death, chaos and destruction in their line of work.

“Is the wolf on your thigh supposed to be Fenrir?”

“No, mine is just a normal earth-roaming wolf. They are gorgeous creatures.”

Sy opened one eye, peeking at Leah over his shoulder. “You were team Jacob weren’t ya?”

Once again, Leah was surprised by his knowledge of such a female oriented piece of pop culture.

“Only in the books. He’s kind of a whiny bitch in the movies.”

Sy attempted to keep his body still as he chuckled, praying he wasn’t messing up the lines of Leah’s drawing.

“How many sisters have you got again?”

“I’ve got two older sisters and twin younger brothers.”

Leah paused what she was doing, shifting to straddle one of Sy’s thighs now that he was awake.

“Wow. That must have been chaotic. We outnumbered dad two to one, I can’t imagine if it had been five to two.”

“It was mostly calm until the twins came along. Olivia and Abigail are eleven months apart and were both quiet, studious types. I’m three years younger than Abi and five and a half years older than Jackson and Austin.”

“Are you guys close?”

Seeing as this was the first time she heard all of their names, she could already guess the answer to that question.

“Not really. I mean, the girls and the twins are inseparable pairs but I never got along with the girls growin’ up and the twins were only twelve when I left.”

Maybe his sister had had a point after all. He’d been absent more than he’d been present in his brothers’ lives. He knew shockingly little of who they had grown up to be.

“I guess it’s kind of my own fault in a way. I was so desperate to leave because of how out of place I felt that I never really gave them the chance to show me things could be different now.”

It had been jarring to see the twins with babies the first time. In his mind, he still pictured them both as scrawny, shaggy-haired pre-teens.

“Why did you feel out of place?”

“I was always the odd one out. Even before the twins came along, the girls were always off doin’ their own thing.”

Too often he saw himself as a burden on the family. Like he was the extra mouth to feed and not much more.

“Is the relationship as strained with your parents as it is with your siblings?”

“No, my mama is the sweetest woman. A homemaker through and through. She stayed with us until the twins started school and even then she only went back part-time until I graduated. My dad worked a lot growin’ up but he had this rule that he always had to be home for dinner so sometimes he would come all the way home to eat with us before goin’ back to work for a double shift. The only time he was more present was right after the twins were born. My mama had had a C-section so she needed the extra help while she recovered.”

Leah was pretty sure extra help was appreciated at any point after having a kid, but good for mama Syverson if she could handle the first three babies all on her own. Growing up, people had sometimes told her father that she and Caleb would be happier with a motherly figure in their lives—especially after it became obvious that their dad wasn’t making any effort to date. Sy was proof that having two parents around didn’t magically make a family closer or happier.

Putting the cap back on her marker, Leah moved to lay down beside her boyfriend. Yes, their two weeks were up and Sy was most definitely her boyfriend. It was also their last lazy morning together. That evening, Sy was getting on the red-eye back to North Carolina and Leah was taking the one the following day. He had to be back earlier for various meetings with their superiors and Leah had already booked her ticket which cost too much to change at the last minute.

Sy rolled onto his side, pulling Leah flush against him.

“No picture?”

Leah shrugged. “Maybe next time.”

She had done her best to keep her concerns at bay but they were becoming harder to ignore as what felt like the end-date on their relationship crept nearer.

Now it was D-day and every fiber of her being screamed at her not to let Sy go.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

Sy placed a soft kiss to the space between her brows. “Worryin’. We’ll be okay.”

“You can’t know that.”

Leah pressed her forehead to the crook of Sy’s neck, stealing more of his warmth. They’d decided to stay at the cabin for their last evening together. Unfortunately, the only heat source was the fireplace in the living room and the temperature had dropped overnight.

Sy was only wearing his briefs while Leah was in her panties and a thin camisole. He was absolutely unbothered but Leah was getting to the point where her nipples were so hard she was sure Sy could feel them poking his chest.

“Darlin’, you’re shiverin’.”

He pulled the blanket back over the both of them, rubbing Leah’s arms and back. She could still pick up on the faint almond scent of the beard oil he’d used after his shower the night before. It was a smell that she now fully associated with Sy’s comforting embrace.

Suddenly she was shaking for a whole different reason. There was no way she could risk sneaking moments like this while at Warhorse. Her only cuddles or kisses would come from Aika. If she had a rough day she would need to take out her frustrations in the gym. When Sy addressed her it would be by her rank or her last name.

If either of them so much as slipped once, it was all over for them.

“Oh, baby girl.” Sy recognized the stiffness in Leah’s body. When Leah became stressed she became tense or jittery and working out was her way of expelling that excess energy. “I’m all in, Leah. No matter what happens, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make this work.”

#captain syverson #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fanfic #cpt syverson #cpt syverson fic #henry cavill #cpt syverson fanfic #cpt syverson x ofc #cpt syverson fanfiction #captainsyverson #captain syverson x ofc

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moncherijoie · 1 day

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𝓙.𝓙𝓪𝓮𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷

𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢! (𝙸 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜😅)

Never in your years of living did you think that you would end up tied to a bed. You were helpless squeezing your legs together trying to create some friction.

"What do you want from me?" Jaehyun said softly with his deep voice in your ear. "I want you to fuck me." You said in response biting your lip.

Jaehyun massages one of your tits with his hand. Flicking his fingertip over your nipple. "You don't get it so easily for being cocky." His says afterwards. You could already feel yourself dripping wanting him to destroy you already.

"Jaehyun...please.." You whimper as you rocked your hips to nothing. You can only hear him chuckle in your ear before he gets off the bed.

You couldn't really see as it was the darkest hour of night. Thanks to the curtain being drawn back in the bedroom you could see his silhouette at the foot of the bed.

"You're just a slut who doesn't listen." Your eyes darted at him. 'Did he just call me a slut?!' You can hear him unbuckle his belt and sit on the bed in between your legs.

"You couldn't wait to have me destroy your body. Right?" With his voice talking to you like that. You swear you was overflowing. Your breath hitched when you feel Jaehyun run his hands through your womanhood. Getting a feel of the wetness you were releasing.

"You're so fucking wet." You let out a moan as your body squirmed. "Stop moving." Jaehyun ordered as he suddenly layed a slap on your vagina. Your body jerked before he slipped a finger in you pumping in and out. "Don't you dare close your eyes."

You went wide eye slightly. It was obvious that whenever the two of you were intimate you had a habit of closing your eyes. Not for the fact that you didn't want to see Jaehyun's face. It's more of you get pleasured to the point you shut your eyes and only focus on that than the other things around you.

"Why are you doing this to me?" You asked as Jaehyun moved his finger faster. "You should know after embarrassing me on that call." It all came back to you.

When he was on a important call for work and you showed up. Wanting to play with him thinking he wasn't on the phone you moaned in his ear. The person on the other line heard and immediately hung up.

"I'm sorry I didn't kn-" You cut off your words with a squeal as Jaehyun buried his face in your womanhood.

He knew this was your weakness. And you knew you wasn't going to last long. You let out a moan and threw your head back. Jaehyun watching your every move as he pushed your legs more apart.

Flicking his tongue over your bud and then sucking on it had already brought you to the edge. "W-wait Jaehyun!" You furrowed your brows and panted as you looked in his eyes.

How they were filled with lust and determination. The familiar feeling coming back to you once again. How much you wanted to reach for his hair and run your hands through it. Then push his head down deeper for your own pleasure.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum!~" You were so close to shutting your eyes. He detaches himself before spitting and rubbing your clit at a fast pace.

He knew your body way more than you even did. Soon enough that wave came crashing over you. "Shit...Jaehyun I cant-" Your body started jerking uncontrollably as you bit your lip.

And you did it.

You closed your eyes.

It was out of habit but you clearly forgot Jaehyun's instructions. He smirks knowing that he already got to your brain. Your mouth hangs open as your moans get louder. Juices overflowing from you.

"Open your eyes Y/n. I already warned you..." You then realized as your eyes shot open and went to Jaehyun. "It seems like I always win during these games."

After he said that and quickly went back to sucking the life out of you was when you accepted it.

You're not walking for the next few days.

#nct 127 reactions #nct hard thoughts #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #nct smut

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miasmal-sweetness · 2 days

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Eye Level

NSFW - MDNI - 18+ ONLY

My brain is currently refusing to cooperate and work on any other writing until I spit out my dumb little one-shot with my favorite trope (size differences) with one of my favorite demons. So here ya go. Hopefully I’ll be back to writing out my planned Cloud fics afterwards.

Eye Level

Summary: Alastor x reader. 4.1k. You're short. You know it, everyone at the hotel knows it. You've assumed that it's some sort of divine punishment for whatever sins you committed while alive, but it's really not so bad, as long as no one hides your step-stool. Today, you've found a new problem with it, though, when you try to get a little closer to your favorite 7-foot-tall demon.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, dead dove do not eat, size difference (reader reaches Alastor’s hips), smut, reader is gender-neutral with reference to having a vagina, reader wears a dress and bloomers, Alastor being sadistic, reader being a masochist, Alastor calls you “good girl” because I’m a sucker for it

The red light of the sky outside is bleeding in to the hotel, burning your eyes and causing an ache in your head. You want to shut it out, but Niffty is busy cleaning all the windows. Rubbing your right temple, you shift on the couch in an attempt to angle yourself away from the worst of the light as you continue to read your book. The words on the page seem harsher than before against the rough, yellowed pages. In addition to Earth’s actual sunlight, you also find yourself missing the convenience of heading out to the pharmacy to pickup some painkillers that weren’t illicit substances.

“Something the matter, dearest?”

You lift your head at the sound of Alastor’s voice. He’s blocking the light as he stands in front of you, his long shadow easing the pain in your head. You have to crane your neck to look at his smiling face, but you’re used to it at this point.

“Oh, I just have a headache,” you say with a light shrug. “I’m okay. How are you doing?”

“Wonderful as always, darling,” he assures. “Why don’t you join me for a cup of coffee upstairs? I’ve found it works like a charm for a headache.”

You perk up at the thought. It’s a little late in the day to have coffee, but you’re not one to turn down a drink and a snack with Alastor. You take care of most of the cooking for the hotel, since Niffty took over your old job of cleaning, so having something made by another person is a nice treat. Plus, he’s good company—he’s the most polite person you think you’ll ever meet in Hell.

“I’d love to,” you say, sliding off of the couch. You smooth out your dress and tuck your book under your arm; you can finish it another time. Your certain that if you were taller, Alastor would do the gentlemanly thing you see him do with others and link arms with you, but that’s not really possible at your height. Instead, he leads the way by engulfing your little hand with his.

You’re barely focused on the small-talk he makes with you as he guides you up the stairs. His gloves are smooth, and you can feel his claws tickling the skin on your wrist and hand. You know that, as much as Alastor enjoys invading other people’s personal space, he does not enjoy allowing others in to his personal space. Despite this, he has been rather open to your presence; picking you up, holding your hand, ruffling your hair. It feels nice. It makes you feel special—like he’s bestowing an honor on you just by patting you on the head, one that the others don’t get.

You nearly trip over a step, and it snaps you out of your thoughts. Alastor stops you from hitting the ground by extending his arm, letting you put your weight on him for balance.

“Careful, dearest,” he chides, “I’m not always here to catch you.”

Your headache is back, caused by the heat rushing to your face and chest. “Right, thank you,” you mumble, ducking your head. “I-I was just thinking.”

“About what?” You should have seen that coming.

Your eyes dart around as he guides you towards his room. “Uh, j-just—the book you lent me,” you spit out. “I’m almost finished with it. It’s really good.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he says, holding open the door for you. “It’s not often I meet another down here that enjoys a good book.”

You smile and step in to his room—immediately, you’re hit by the scent of paper, candles, wood that is well-cared for, and decaying leaves and other plant matter. You know his room changes. You know that what you see is different from what the others see when they enter. You’ve heard them mention the swamp that makes up half of the room, often complete with a decaying deer. Every time he has invited you in, however, it has been nothing other than a lovely room that looks like it belongs in some fancy townhome from the 1920s.

Just another thing that makes you feel special.

“If you have a favorite book, I’d love to read it,” you suggest as you slip out of your shoes.

Alastor’s grin grows even wider than usual. “Really? Well, I’ll have to think about it; I have quite a few in my collection that I favor.” It’s a lie, an excuse to put this off for later. There’s something he doesn’t want you to see. You can sense it, deep down in your gut, but you ignore it. He’s always shielded your eyes from the bad—from the gore of Hell, from those that would try to take advantage of you, even from some of the arguments among the others. This is no different.

Moving on from the topic, Alastor snaps his fingers, and a tray of coffee and small snacks appear on his dining table. He’s added cream and sugar for you; he doesn’t understand your sweet-tooth, but he does indulge it.

“Oh, and a treat for you, little one.”

He snaps his fingers again, and when you next blink your eyes, you find that a dish has appeared on the tray. It’s a slice of cake—the same you remember ogling outside the bakery window the last time you went outside the hotel. The hotel doesn’t offer payment for your services, so your measly pocket change was not enough to get it. He must have noticed your longing for that delicious, soft piece of cake. You don’t even remember the last time you had the luxury of cake. The last time was probably when you were alive, and you have the feeling it was one of those store-bought cakes that are dry and covered in thick, sickeningly sweet icing.

This cake is fancy. This cake is fluffy and standing tall, covered in berries and whipped cream with just the right amount of sweetness. And most of all—it means that Alastor paid that much attention to you on a silly outing that he didn’t need to be a part of.

“Thank you, Alastor!”

You throw out your arms and wrap them around him. It’s a chance as good as any. The closest you have come to hugging him is when he’s picked you up and carried you around like a doll. Surely a gift like this means he would be okay with it—although, the second you touch him, you realize you’re probably reading a little too much in to a slice of cake, and maybe it’s because you forgot to eat lunch.

Your arms wrapped around his legs, your feet in between his. And now you remember just how short you are compared to him. Normally, you’re either staring at the ground or you’re turning your head all the way up to look at his face, which makes it easy to forget that your head reaches an… unfortunate location that you have just unknowingly pushed yourself against.

Your face is burning again. Your head is throbbing. If you weren’t already condemned to Hell, this would probably have gotten you in. Your cheek is right against his groin. You fear looking up at his face for a reaction, but you do it anyway and see that, despite his smile, he looks to be just as shocked as you, if not more. And then it changes. The shock is fading. His eyes are getting darker, and that strange look in his eyes—one that you’ve never seen on him—is directed at you.

You force your body in to action. “I-I’m sorry!” you squawk, stumbling away from him. “Um! I-I just—I was excited; I didn’t mean to—uh, s-sorry, sorry!” You’re clumsily making your way back towards the door, nearly slipping from the lack of friction your socks have on the polished floor.

Alastor takes a step closer to you, and you bristle, picking up the pace. “Ma cher, don’t—”

“Sorry!” you cry one last time, slipping out the door and in to the safety of the hallway. You dash to the end of it and around a corner, where you wait to hear any signs of him following. Nothing. The only thing you hear is your own racing heart and the blood rushing through your body. You feel hot, shaky, and a little sweaty—your feet are sweating through your socks.

Your socks.

You forgot your fucking shoes in his room.

Groaning, you sink down to the floor and peel off your socks, freeing your overheated feet. You replay the event in your mind as you stare emptily at your toes, wiggling them all one by one. You just had to go and try to hug him—you couldn’t just be patient and wait for him to one day, just maybe, initiate it himself. At the very least, you could have been more careful. You think it might have been a nice hug otherwise. You can still feel the crisp fabric of his pants and the warmth he radiates; you can smell the light scent of smoke and cologne on his clothes. The button of his pants had been against your cheek, and you have no control against the intrusive thought of how the bulge in his pants had felt.

Smacking your cheeks with your palms, you shake your head, as though it would toss the thought out. You need to stop being a little creep and get your shoes. You have one pair of shoes, and you are not willing to walk barefoot anywhere in Pentagram City. The longer you leave them there, the more likely you are to abandon them entirely in hopes of never having a confrontation with Alastor. Well… maybe you could ask Charlie to get you a new pair of shoes? You groan at yourself; you’re already trying to get out of it.

You push yourself to your feet and dust off the skirt of your dress. You take quiet, slow steps towards his room. You can do this. Just don’t think about it. Did he like it? No, stop it. Did it excite him, like it excited you? Stop that! You’re wet—maybe from fear, maybe from arousal. Your hands are shaking as you reach for the doorknob. You contemplate whether it would be best to knock or simply crack the door open and grab your shoes without entering. Alastor is polite, though; you know he’d much rather you be decent and knock.

Heart racing, chest heaving with tiny and anxious breaths, you tap your knuckles against the door. It opens almost immediately.

“Yes, dearest? Have you calmed down now?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at his face; instead, you resort to looking at your bare feet. “I—um, I realized I forgot my shoes here,” you mumble, fidgeting with the hem of your dress.

He laughs at this—it makes you shiver, and you hope he doesn’t notice. “You were in quite the hurry,” he teases. “What scared you so badly, darling?”

You mean to simply snatch your shoes and flee, but the moment you cross the threshold, he’s closed the door behind you. Your heart is pounding, as though it thinks you’re sprinting down a hallway from a monster. But it’s just Alastor! He’s never harmed you, only kept you safe—and yet, you feel like you’re caught in a trap. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating from behind you; he’s close, and for once, you wish he’d be less comfortable with you in his personal space. Despite this, you can’t bring your dumb feet to move. You are caught like a deer in headlights.

“What’s wrong, pet?” He’s never called you that before. It’s new and exciting, even though you internally scold yourself for the warm feeling building up in the depths of your gut. “Why have you gone quiet? You’re not ignoring me, are you?”

His fingers ghost over your hair as he speaks, his hand finally coming to rest on your shoulder. It’s not as though you’re hiding your discomfort well, but that doesn’t stop him. Alastor’s left hand comes from behind you and cups your chin, slowly drawing you back until your spine touches his leg. You shut your eyes. You won’t look at him; it makes you feel at least a little less exposed, even if you know he can see the red in your face all the same.

“I don’t appreciate the silent treatment, dearest,” he warns, giving your cheeks a squeeze. “I guess I’ll have to find a way to snap you out of it.”

You’re lifted off of your feet; the sudden feeling of instability makes you open your eyes, even though you try to resist. Before you can register it, Alastor has dropped you on his bed—a bed that seems rarely used—and is now kneeling before you.

“You’ve been terribly rude, pet,” he chides, resting his hand on your knee. “First you get so close to me, then you run off and leave me wanting? Now you come back and refuse to say a word to me.” He clicks his tongue in disdain; its the feeling of his claws digging in to your skin that truly express his displeasure. You shift in place, but keep your mouth sealed. Your mind is blank, anyhow.

When his claws pierce your skin, you move out of reflex, jerking your leg away from his hand. Alastor’s grip is iron-clad and holds you in place so tightly that you can’t even move it a millimeter. Your skin feels hot and cold at the same time, and goosebumps are running up and down your arms. Your mind is getting hazy, to the point that your vision blurs as his other hand creeps up the skirt of your dress.

You try to control your breaths, try to look anywhere other than him. He’s relishing the sight of you as his fingers curl around the waistband of your frilly bloomers. He grips your hip harshly—you know it will leave a reminder in the form of a bruise later. His thumb lightly brushes over your clit, and your toes curl in response. It’s like he’s fascinated by the response your body has to it; he’s watching every twitch, shiver, and shake as he toys with you. Finally, a mewl escapes your lips. Something about the noise draws him out of whatever it is that he’s thinking, and he looks you in the eyes.

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman, darling,” he says, relaxing his grip on you. “So… yes or no?”

This is closer to the Alastor you’re familiar and comfortable with. He looks so calm and pleased that it’s like it’s just another day for him, one where he does not have his hand in your underwear and he’s just making you feel special by gracing you with a pat on your head. The familiarity is reassuring, and you’re such a sucker for how special he makes you feel, so surely there’s no harm in this…

“Yes,” you finally eke out.

Alastor’s grin widens; his thumb immediately resumes teasing you. His other hand strokes up and down your thigh, his claws tickling you and leaving red streaks in their wake. You moan again and are met with the reminder of his watchful gaze; unable to take the feeling of scrutiny anymore, you grab the lapel of his coat and tug on it.

You hear him chuckle and crack your eyes open again. He’s released you—for now—to shrug off his coat and set it aside.

“An eye for an eye, pet?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to agree to this suggestion; he pops open the buttons on the back of your dress in one quick motion. Your dress is pulled from your body, leaving you and your bloomers entirely exposed. You instinctively cover your chest with your forearm. This is hardly an eye for an eye—and you know, deep down, that he knows that and enjoys every bit of imbalance between you two. And you do, too, even if you don’t want to admit it.

His hands are on you again, this time running up and down your waist, back, thighs, and chest. He’s parting your legs and moving in between them, leaning down to press his lips to your throat. You whimper, now suffocated by the dizzying smell of tobacco. Alastor gives you a gentle peck, before his teeth graze your delicate skin and earn a moan from you. You instinctively bristle from the delightful pain, and he pushes your legs apart again.

“Relax, sha,” he murmurs against your neck. “Relax. Would I let you get hurt?”

Yes. He absolutely would. You know that, and you stuff it down. Who cares? Who cares if you get a little hurt? If he lets it happen? If he’s the one to do it, if he’s the one watching and enjoying it, that’s all that really matters.

So you relax for him and melt in to his touch, letting him guide you down to the soft bed. You don’t resist when your bloomers come off. You’re completely exposed to him, and he’s simply standing over you, grinning at the sight. The one sacrifice he does make is his gloves, shedding them to feel your skin in its full glory. His hands are much warmer without his gloves on; the feeling of them rubbing your legs is soothing.

“Alastor,” you mewl—for a moment, you realize just how pathetic and weak you sound, but decide that it’s fine to be pathetic and weak for him and slip back in to your haze. For every inch of fog clouding your mind, Alastor seems to gain a new degree of focus. You can’t tell exactly what it is he’s so focused on, so hungry for, but you enjoy it all the same.

“You sound so lovely when you say my name.” His voice sounds so different now—animalistic, growling. Your heart rate spikes again, but you’re not about to back out now, so you enjoy the adrenaline rush as you gaze up at the ceiling. You hear a shift of fabric, feel him moving between your legs as he looms over you. He slips one hand underneath you to feel the small of your back, and you finally realize what he’s about to—

“Ahh!” you hiss, curling your spine as you reflexively try to escape the source of the pain. You’re brought back to the reality of your situation for a brief moment; Alastor is over seven feet tall, you are definitely not, and he is definitely entirely proportionate for his height. It hurts, worse than anything you think you’ve felt before. You feel like you’re splitting open, despite how wet you are and the fact that he’s barely inside of you.

Alastor’s hands hold you in place by your hip and your arm. You can feel his own excitement and agitation from the tightness of his grip—so tight he’s trembling in the slightest—and the hint of sweat on his palms. “Behave, sha,” he orders through his teeth. He’s trying to suppress your squirming as much as possible, but you can still wriggle in his grip, and every movement of your hips sends a wave of pleasure through him. “Relax and behave.”

Your body is slowly adjusting to the pain, and his voice is bringing you back to that lovely, pleasurable haze. You force yourself to stay still and breathe through it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs with a sigh. “Good girl.” You shudder at the words, and he pushes himself further inside of you. You don’t struggle this time; you simply yelp in pain and squeeze your eyes shut to bear it. He releases your arm to grab you by your chin, forcing your head up. You open your eyes, your face contorted in pain; he’s smiling, of course. It’s a feral, sadistic smile, but it’s not quite the same one you’ve seen before he rips apart some idiot trying to wreck the hotel. This one is different, and you hope it’s one he’s reserved only for you. No matter how frightening it is, you’ll still delight in the honor.

You manage to relax a little more, having adjusted to the feeling of being torn in two. Alastor sighs at the feeling and once again pushes further inside of you. Every effort of yours to behave will be rewarded like this—with more pain, blood, and tears that prick your eyes. You had your chance to say no. You still could. But you don’t. You’re special. He wants you. And you want him—you want him to degrade you, too.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, sha?” he coos in a tone of faux concern. Still, you whimper and nod, curling your fingers in to the linens beneath you. “I know, pet, I know. It must hurt terribly.” Another inch inside of you, another swallowed scream.

“P-please,” you beg. You barely even realize the words are spilling out of your mouth. “I can’t—I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he assures, his hand moving down to your throat. No matter how much he wants to, he doesn’t squeeze. Not yet. He’ll save that for another time, another day. There’s nothing wrong with denying a bit of pleasure now to make it sweeter later. “You can and you will. I will make you.”

You try to scream when you feel the sensation of a burning, sharp pain pierce further inside of you, but he clamps his hand over your mouth.

“No,” he breathes. “You won’t make a sound unless you’re quiet about it. I am the only one who can hear you. This is just for me.”

You swallow back the scream; it feels like it’s still stuck in your chest, making it ache as it tries to beat its way out through your sternum. It’s too painful to breathe. Every single movement is painful. This is as far as he can go without really hurting you—without you truly breaking apart. You can smell blood. You feel like you can maybe taste it, too. The sight of it only spurs him on, and he pounds in to you without any concern for the pain it will cause you.

You can’t even scream; it’s too sudden. Once the waves of pain truly set in, you let out a weak cry and grab on to his arms in an effort to steady yourself. Spots of all colors are appearing in your vision as the sounds of the room—skin against skin, muffled groans that he’s trying to hold back, your own crying—get further and further away. Your grip on him loosens, and he notices.

“I can’t keep going if you’re sleeping, pet,” Alastor taunts, grabbing you by your chin and squeezing. When your pupils only dilate further, he takes a handful of your hair and pulls, giving your head a shake. That does it; you’re awake enough, for now. “There you are.”

You can’t escape the pain. You just have to live with it. Any time he sees you slipping out of consciousness, you’re awakened with a sharp jolt of pain. And now his movements are too fast, too harsh to even begin to pass out. Tears freely flow down your face at this point, as freely as the blood pooling beneath your thighs.

“A-Alastor,” you sob, one hand reaching up for him. “Please.”

The pathetic sight of you stupidly reaching for him is what sends him over the edge. His claws curl in to your skin, and blood drips on to the linens beneath you. He’s looming over you as you feel warmth replace the feeling of an icy knife in your belly, spilling out of you and on to your legs. His eyes are closed, he’s panting, and his brow is furrowed. You like the sight of it, but you can’t fully enjoy it when he’s still causing you so much pain.

Finally, his eyes open, and he pulls away from you without warning, sending another ripple of pain through you. You’re throbbing. You feel like you’ve been impaled and suffocated. You definitely did not cum. And yet, when the look on his face softens, the pain lessens. He’s back to the gentleman you know and adore.

“Oh dear,” he sighs, resting his cheek against his hand—a hand covered in your blood. “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

As he helps you bathe and feeds you a potion to help heal some of your wounds, you let that haze settle in permanently in a part of your brain. As long as he makes you feel special, as long as he calls you sweetheart and pet and sha, you’ll take whatever pain he throws at you.

#dead dove #dead dove do not eat #dark fic #yandere!alastor x reader #mdni #miasmal writes #size difference

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