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#I'm reading The Whispering Skull
Lucy being like "hm that was very close contact with Lockwood and now my stomach feels fluttery. I must be hungry!" I cannot stand her (affectionate)
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blacknight1230 · 6 months
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Healing Touches
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(Y/n) is suffering from one of the worst migraines they had ever had, but luckily she has two wonderful partners to help her feel better.
poly!Halsin X Reader X Astarion
Everything hurt. Why does everything hurt? That was the first thing you were thinking of when you woke up that morning. The sounds of the birds singing their morning song, the sunlight breaking through the slit in your tent's opening, the reverberating throbbing of your head ... it could only mean one thing. You were suffering from a migraine. You tried to get up to try and find something to help you with your pain, but the slightest movement made a wave of dizziness and nausea to overcome you. Spots danced across your eyes, even when they were closed and your back teeth were even in pain. This is by far the worst migraine you have ever experienced, and you've suffered from quite a lot. This is what I get for not having my medication with me, you thought. Yet another thing you took for granted when you somehow managed to transport yourself from the modern world to the magical and chaotic world of Faerûn. How you did that, you still did not know.
The vertigo you were dealing with made it impossible for you to physically get help. So, you did the only thing possibly in this situation; you used your tadpole to connect with one of your companions. You psychically reached out to one of your nearby companion's tadpole, latching onto the first one your worm felt. You struggled to maintain the connection and formulate proper thoughts to convey your need for help. Before you were able to identify who you were connected with, said connection broke as you lost concentration, your head now pounding even harder. Everything felt numb as blood rushed in your ears and spots danced behind your eyes again.
The opening of your tent flap and sunlight pouring in signalled that someone had entered your informal abode. You sheltered under the layers of your bedroll and hissed at the brightness, not able to see who came to your rescue. "Are you alright, pet? I felt you reach out to me," a sauve cool voice asked. Astarion, you inwardly cooed. The silver haired vampire noticed your aversion to the light, closing the tent flap behind him as he shuffled closer to you. "Darling, please say something," he worried. You peaked an eye over the edge of your bedroll cover, met with the handsome face of your vampiric lover. His usual lustrous saccharine eyes were soft with concern, furrowed brows showing the hidden wrinkles of his forehead. "Migraine," you managed to say, voice coming out raspy and low. The slight movement of your jaw did not help the resounding pain in your back teeth, which in turn made your head worse. "Oh, my sweet little love," he cooed. He reached a hand out and brushed it across the apple of your cheek, the slightest touch of his cold skin providing you with relief. "Let me go get, Halsin. He'll surely know what to do."
"No, stay," you whispered, wanting nothing more than for him to wander his icy hands over your head and neck. Astarion let out a sad chuckled, kneeling over you to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. But I'll be right back, I promise." His icy touch left you as he careful made his way outside without letting any light disturb you.
You laid there, in silence and pain, for who knows how long. Time felt slower as the throbbing continued in your skull. Sleep refused to take you under its wings, and there was no way you could sit up and read a book. When the hulking frame of Halsin appeared in your tent's entrance way, you swore it was a godsend.
"Oh, my heart," the druid cooed when he laid eyes on you. "Halsin," you whimpered out. Tears were brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you wouldn't let him see them cascade down your face. "I've got some natural remedies to help you with your pain, my heart. But first you need to tell me where it hurts?" Halsin softly told you, kneeling down beside you. "Everywhere. It hurts everywhere," you told your hulking lover.
Astarion quietly shuffled himself into the privacy of your tent, situating himself to sit on the blanketed ground facing the other side of Halsin. "Darling, you need to be more specific so Halsin can help you? Can you do that for us?" he coached you, taking his hand to gentle rub away the furrowing of your forehead. You audibly let out a sigh of relief at the coldness of his fingers, losing yourself in his touch. "It looks like she enjoys that, Astarion. I suggest you continue while I prepare the appropriate remedies," Halsin cooed.
You just groaned in pleasure as Astarion's lithe fingers continued to massaged away the stress in your forehead muscles. You felt them relax, and in turn you stopped scrunching your eyes shut as the pain slightly lessened. But the back of your head, right where your spine meets your skull, was still throbbing in pain, so you grabbed Astarion's other hand and brought it to the spot. The vampire spawn seemed to understand what you wanted, slowly but firmly rolling the sore tissue under his pale fingertips. A small gasp was brought to your lips and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears lessened to the point you could now hear Halsin grinding some medical herbs in a mortar and pestle somewhere inside your tent.
Liquid sloshed in a container as Halsin returned to you, having finished what he was doing. "I made you something to help with your migraine. I need you to sit up so you can drink it. Can you do that for me?" he informed. You mumbled out a small yes, struggling to prop yourself up on your elbows. Astarion wrapped an arm around your torso and gently pulled you to lean up against his chest. You placed a chaste kiss on his hand as a thank you. You were able to open your eyes now, though you still squinted due to not being used to the light, still somewhat sensitive to it. But you were able to make out Halsin kneeling beside you with a glass bottle filled with some reddish liquid inside held in his large hand.
"Here you go, my heart. Drink as much as you can," he said as he brought the glass rim up to your lips. You opened your mouth, humming as the first drop of the medicine hit your tongue. Mmm, chamomile, you thought. There was a hit of sweetness to it, as if Halsin added spoon of honey to the mixture., that craffy bear. You hummed in enjoyment at the taste, signalling to Halsin to tilt the bottle some more so you could drink more its contents.
When you almost finished the mixture, Halsin pulled the bottle away. "Not too much, my heart. There will be plenty more for you later," he teased. You mewled as you leaned further into Astarion's chest, eyes starting to feel droopy. Astarion let out a light chuckle at your affections. "I see the herbs are already working. Would you like us to stay with you while you nap, my darling?" he playfully ask. You nodded, looking up into his ruby eyes with a child-like pout on your lips. "Please. I want some cuddles," you pleaded. "Oh, darling, how could we ever say no to a face like that," Astarion cooed, placing two light kisses against your eyelids.
You repositioned yourself so you were laying on your stomach with your head on Astarion's chest. The vampire wrapped his arms around your middle and laid a kiss on your head, before settling himself back onto your sleeping pillow. Your druid partner threw an arm over the both of you as he laid on his side, his muscular chest warming your side while his chin rested lightly on Astarion's white locks. You could feel the tangling of your legs with your partners, a smile making your way to your face. "Sweet dreams, my sweet," Astarion whispered in your ear. "Rest well, my love," Halsin purred, rubbing soothing circles into your back. The scent of your loves and the sound of their rhythmic breathing lulled you back to sleep, the pain that once plagued you moment you woke up long forgotten as you laid within their loving embraces.
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lilac-witch · 2 months
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Hi cute! how are you? I hope you're well! You could write about Az returning with Feyre from training and they are talking and Az is so unfocused that he doesn't notice that there is another person in the room besides the ic, so y/n screams and runs out to hug Az and they're over. falling to the ground haha ​​they are best friends who have feelings for each other. Y/n had been away on a mission and didn't know Feyre but she knew her from EVERYTHING Az had been telling her jandjsmcjsldk thanks baby
First request! Super sweet ask and a great idea :)
Gadzooks - Azriel x Reader
masterlist | part 2
Summary: After weeks away on a mission, Y/n returns to her family in the Night Court, with the addition of a new member. And thanks to Azriel, she feels like they've known each other forever. Meaning: "an exclamation of surprise or annoyance" Word Count: 658 Warnings: None.
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"A letter has arrived for you, m'lady."
Y/n's head drifted from the paperwork before her, to the Peregryn male situated at the door. She motioned for him to come forward, receiving the envelope swiftly.
Once the male had left, Y/n tore into the white paper.
Dear Y/n
So much has happened since you left for Dawn. Feyre is officially living in Velaris, and I've taken over her training regiment. Let's just say her technique could use some work.
She's great though, perfectly suited for Rhys. If only the stubborn bastard would finally confess to her that they're mates.
I miss you. Cassian is as annoying as ever, and Rhys is so busy fretting over Feyre, so there isn't anyone to really talk to.
I hope everything is going well in Dawn, and I can't wait to see you again.
Your loyal friend, Azriel.
Y/n smiled as she finished reading through the letter. Over the many weeks that she had spent in Dawn Court, Azriel had kept her up to date on all things Feyre-related. From their first meeting, to the trauma she'd endured, Y/n knew it all.
Perhaps it was time she returned home. It was coming up on three months since she'd left, and Thesan seemed to no longer require her services. Yes, it was time to return to Velaris.
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"You did well today," Azriel said as he and Feyre strode through the halls of the House of Wind.
"I feel like I'm getting stronger. The regimes no longer hurt so much," she laughed.
"Well then, maybe they could do with an upgrade," Azriel stated, lips twitching upwards into a smirk.
"Don't you dare, Shadowsinger."
Azriel was about to open his mouth in retort, when a solid object collided with his body, propelling him towards the floor.
Azriel would have been concerned regarding his shadows' lack of vigilence, or even his own instincts having not kicked it, had it not been for the warm vanilla scent that filled his nose.
"Y/n..." he mutter, arms wrapping around her warm body. "When did you get back?"
"A little while ago," she muttered into his neck, hot breath hitting his skin in the most delectable way.
"I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you too, Az."
The heartfelt moment didn't last long, courtesy of his brother.
"If you two lovebirds are done, I believe introductions are in order."
Azriel glared daggers into Cassian's skull, doing his damnedest to keep the blush that crept up his neck, at bay.
He helped Y/n up, hands lingering on her waist for a second longer than what just 'friends' would do.
Rhysand cleared his throat, stepping towards the female at his side.
"Feyre, meet Y/n, the last member of our inner circle, and my most trusted emissary. Y/n meet Feyre..."
"I've heard all about you," Y/n stated, mouth spread wide in a smile. "All good things of course."
Feyre's face grew warm, and her eyes met Azriel's.
"Is that so?"
Y/n nodded, taking a cautious step forward, before wrapping an arm around Feyre, guiding her towards the kitchen.
"Indeed it is, and what better way to get to know me than over a cup of tea. Has Azriel mentioned I make a mean cup of tea?"
"He has not," Feyre stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
"Hm, how rude," Y/n huffed, smiling at Azriel as the pair disappeared from sight.
He felt his stomach flutter at the sight of that beautiful smile. It had been too long since he'd last seen it.
"You know, you complain about me not confessing to Feyre, but I've had to watch you tiptoe around Y/n for over a century," Rhys drawled, a teasing smirk on his obnoxiously handsome face.
"No one asked you," Azriel grumbled, heading in the direction the two females had gone, in hopes of escaping more of his brother's playful jabs.
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And I'm back!
it feels so good to be able to write again, and to be able to bring your requests to life. A reminder that my inbox is open to all your dreams and wishes ;)
Until next time lovelies :)
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clovestreet · 1 year
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don’t stop- peeta mellark
summary: a heated make out turns into something more🤭
warnings: SMUT (16+)⚠️ heavy making out, dry humping
authors note: first time writing for peeta so please be kind:) this is one of my fav kind of smut prompts to read and there is absolutely no peeta smut anywhere😓😓i hope you guys enjoy:)
Something had come over you.
It was very rare that you felt so incredibly desperate for your boyfriend, but today that overwhelming feeling hit you like a freight train.
You didn’t know what had made you feel this way. It could have been the way his strong arms looked this morning when he was moving furniture for Haymitch, so perfectly toned and sculpted. Or it could have been the way he held you in his arms this morning and kissed you until your lips were flushed and swollen. Or maybe it was the way his towel hung so lowly around his hips when he stepped out of the shower this afternoon with water droplets still clinging to his abs.
That boy had been driving you crazy all day and you simply could not focus on anything. He consumed your every thought and all you wanted to do was touch him. You found your mind drifting toward the dirtiest thoughts and tried to squeeze you legs together to suppress the frustrated ache building between your legs.
But lucky for you, that same boy was now pinned underneath you in nothing but his boxers with his hands up your shirt groaning everytime you moved above him.
What had started as gentle and loving makeout session escalated to something far more needy and passionate.
Peeta looked so beautiful underneath you, his blonde hair still damp from his shower messily laid across his forehead, his tan chest flexing underneath your touch, his lips glistening with your saliva.
You were straddled on his lap, thighs on either side of his with your hands moving back and forth from his shoulders to his hair. He had one hand on your waist, pulling you closer to his chest and one hand under your shirt, toying with the waistband of your underwear.
Neither of you had come up for air. You were both so desperate for eachother and so obsessed with the other you couldn’t stop. Every kiss was so intense it felt like it could be your last.
After being lost in your own thoughts for a moment, you broke the kiss and shifted your focus to Peeta’s neck, which you knew would drive him absolutely insane. You began to gently suck and bite his neck and then swipe over the spot with your toungue.
Peeta was loving every moment of it.
His gasps and hums quickly turned into groans as his hands left your hips and went straight to gripping your ass.
“You’re so good baby” he groaned into your hair.
You wanted more, you wanted to make him a mess underneath you. You needed it. And you knew exactly how to do it.
While still sucking on his neck, you began to grind your hips onto Peeta. You knew exactly how to roll your hips into Peeta's; a way that would make his eyes roll back into his skull and make his jaw fall slack.
"Oh my god babe" he gasped into your ear.
His fingers tugged the messy hair at the nape of your neck and pulled your closer. You thought you couldn't be any more intertwined with Peeta.
You were wrong.
You felt the obvious bulge in his boxers growing underneath you which only made you grind onto him harder. You wanted nothing more than to hear his sweet moans and feel his fingers leave delicious bruises on your hips.
"Baby if you keep going, I'm gonna come." he breathed into your neck.
"Fine by me" you whispered with a cheeky grin pasted on your face.
You moved your leg farther up his body, your kneecap resting against his ribs. You kept grinding on him, the new angle impossibly more intense than before.
Peeta's groans turned throatier and deeper. His eyes were screwed shut as his beautiful sounds were lost in your neck and your collarbone. He wrapped his arm under your leg and pulled you even tighter on him and started to use his hands to grind you onto him even harder. He was getting desperate now.
"It's so good babe, I can-"
His praise was interrupted by a shaky moan. You could tell he was on the edge.
"Come on Peeta, let go babe." you whispered sinfully into his ear.
You started to bounce slightly on him and you could feel him everywhere. You pressed your lips under the base of his ear, making small breathy moans into his ear.
One last roll of your hips and Peeta was coming undone. His groans echoed the room and he came hard. His biceps caged around your and held you on his warm and glistening chest as he grinded his hips into you to ride out his high.
He was so beautiful when he was like this, and the fact that you were the only one who got to see him in this state turned you on more than you could even begin to describe.
After coming back from the heaven you had sent him to, you leaned down to kiss him softly.
"I can't believe you just made me come in my boxers." he laughed into your lips.
"I'm pretty good huh?"
"I think your a little better than good baby."
You smiled back into his mouth and began to roll off of him. But before you had the chance, he was pulling you back and under him.
"Not so fast babe. Gotta make you feel good too." he murmured into your lips.
Before you knew it, he was hovering over you with his knee between your legs and your heart was racing.
Part 2?
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st4rfckerz · 2 months
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Late Night Call | Nerdy!Anakin x Reader
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word count: 1.8k
warnings: MDNI 18+, masturbating (both), voice kink, praise, nerdy!anakin is a whiny little mess.
summary: Your voice is enough to get Anakin all worked up.
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The silence of the night seemed to be swallowing the entire city as Anakin lay sprawled in his bed, staring at the ceiling. With a yawn, Anakin lifted the blocky landline phone off its cradle, the dial tone echoing through the receiver. As he recited the familiar numbers, he couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
"Hello?" a gentle voice answered on the other line.
"Hey, I didn't wake you up did I?" Anakin mumbled into the phone, his voice barely above a whisper. The soft sound of rustling sheets and a yawn came from the other end of the line.
There was a pause before you replied. You knew that voice. "No, you caught me at a good time. What's going on?"
"Oh, well, nothing really I just wanted to talk to you," he stammered, trying to mask his nervousness. "I'm putting off writing this paper too actually," Anakin admits almost sounding like he was ashamed of himself. "I don't know, I just don't feel like its good enough." He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he could feel the small migraine coming in through to temples of his skull.
"Hey, it's alright," your soft voice reassured him from the other side of the line, sending a wave of calm washing over his senses. It was enough to ease his nerves, even if just a little. "You're human, and mistakes happen. You can't expect perfection from yourself all the time."
As the comforting voice continued speaking into the phone, Anakin's breath hitched in his throat. His heartbeat pulsed rapidly in his ears, matching the cadence of the soft whispers. Slowly, the warmth that had started in his chest spread through his limbs, igniting a fire within him. His thoughts raced, his imagination running wild with images of you on the other end of the line, your voice painting vivid pictures in his mind. The soothing voice was a siren song, drawing him in deeper with each passing second.
"What're you writing about anyways?" your voice rings softly through the line. Anakin clenched his eyes shut, his grip on the receiver tightened, as if he could somehow draw strength from the cold plastic. This isn't right, he chided himself, yet he couldn't resist the pull.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, it's about a new tech startup in Silicon Valley, something boring like that." Anakin managed to amswer, his voice cracking slightly. His hand subconsciously rubbed against his crotch, and he discreetly adjusted his pants, feeling the bulge growing bigger. He needed to calm down. Fast.
You hum slightly, the topic taking your interest. "That's sounds intriguing, I'd read it. I'm writing about the use of real fur in the fashion industry." Anakin's heart skipped a beat hearing your reply. Real fur? That sounded controversial, edgy, something that would definitely get you a passing grade.
"Oh, really?" he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you think it's... you know, ethical?"
"Not at all, there's always faux fur y'know?" you scoff. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. This was school-related, he reminded himself sternly. "Well, I mean, if the demand for real fur decreases, the industry will eventually adapt," he reasoned, trying to sound rational. "Plus, there are ways to ensure animal welfare during the process."
"See! You're so good, it's not even your paper and you're already shooting facts." you praise him innocently. God, he could've came in his boxers if he wasn't being so careful. His head was buzzing with ideas of how he might prolong the conversation so that you could carry on speaking. He just needed to hear you voice.
"Thanks." Anakin laughed nervously, trying to deflect the compliment. "So, um... how's everything else been? Anything exciting happening in your life besides your classes?" He couldn't shake the image of you in that little skirt you decided to wear to class the other day, your tits swaying enticingly in the tight sweater you wore. If it was up to him, he would've fucked you in that classroom in front of everyone. His cock twitched in his pants, growing harder by the minute.
"Not really, my roommate's gonna be out of town for a family thing, so I'll have a whole boring week by myself." you explain.
"Oh, really?" Anakin's eyes widened in delight, his heart racing faster than ever. He shifted in his seat, his cock throbbing against his pajama pants "So, uh, want to meet up sometime? Just you and me?" He forced himself to sound innocent, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying his true intentions.
His hand reached down his pants, feeling the head of his cock peeking out from his underwear. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly, trying to calm down. He had to focus on their conversation, at least until she agreed to meet up with him. He inadvertently let a whine slip out of his mouth as he swept his fingers across his sensitive tip.
"Anakin? Are you ok?" you ignore his question. Is he? No, he wouldn't. You think to yourself.
"Y-yeah just keep talking, 'm listening." Anakin stammered. His hand continued to stroke his cock unabashedly, increasing the speed slightly. He was so lost in the mind that he didn't even think about the possibility of you being able to hear the quiet slick sounds coming from his end of the line.
He is.
"Ani, I know what you're doing." you state bluntly. His eyes spring open and his hand slows down its movement on his cock.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't help it, y-you can hang up if you want I just-" he blurts out his words but you instantly interrupt him.
"Why would I want to hang up?"
"What?" Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was sure you'd call him a sick freak and never talk to him again.
"I'm not hanging up," His heart raced wildly, his cock throbbing harder than ever. He couldn't resist your voice. "Does it feel good Ani?"
"Mhm, wish it was you." he admits breathlessly, his fingers tightening around his cock. Anakin's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking about baby." you chide. You could feel your cunt getting increasingly wetter as you continued to speak to him, it makes you squirm as the heat continues to spread through your body.
"Just you, 's always you," he confessed, his voice cracking with lust. "I wanna touch you and taste you everywhere." His hand picked up speed, and his cock twitched violently in his pants.
"You wanna taste me?" you egg him on. His voice sounded so desperate it was almost pathetic.
"Uh huh, I wanna taste you," Anakin's voice trembled with desire. "Everywhere. Mmph- your lips, your neck, your pussy, everywhere."
He couldn't help but wonder how you would sound, how you would taste, how you would react to his advances. His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing violently in his pants. He needed relief, needed you to stop teasing him.
"Are you gonna be a good boy for me Ani?" you whisper, your voice dropping down an octave.
"I'll be anything you want me to be," Anakin panted, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just please keep talking." He couldn't contain himself anymore, his hand moving faster. "I'll do anything you say, just tell me what you want."
"I wanna hear you beg to cum." you demand as you begin to slowly graze your beating clit over your panties, soon dipping your hand underneath them to be met with your soaking cunt. "You're making me so wet Ani." Your fingers swirled little circles against your tiny bud, causing you to let out a small moan.
Anakin groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please, I need it so bad." He couldn't stand it anymore, he had to release the pressure building up inside him. "I'll be good I promise," he pleaded, his voice breaking. Anakin's heart stopped for a moment as he heard the wet sounds coming from the other end. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Mhm, feels so good." you moan as you curl your delicate fingers inside your drooling pussy. His cock jerked in his hand and  his mind filled with images of you fingering yourself.
"Ah- fuck." His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He bit his lower lip, trying to control himself, but his body betrayed him. "I'm close, so close-" he panted. His hips rocked back and forth in sync with each stroke. and he could feel his orgasm building up, he knew it wouldn't be long now. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breathing became shallow and erratic.
"Cum for me pretty boy, I wanna hear you." He couldn't hold it back any longer. With one last hard stroke, he came, his balls tightening and his cock spurting a warm stream of cum onto his blankets. He let out a loud groan, his entire body shaking with pleasure.
You can feel your own orgasm creeping up inside you as you vigorously pumped your fingers into your cunt. "Shit Ani 'm cumming!" you squeal. Anakin's eyes widened, a low growl escaping his lips as he heard you ride out your orgasm. His chest heaved, little beads of sweat trickled down his face as he tried to catch his breath.
For a moment, you both sat there, panting and recovering from your orgasms. Then, finally, Anakin found the courage to speak again. "We should... we should probably hang up, huh?" he said hesitantly.
"I guess we could," you chuckle at his awkwardness. "I'm tired now." Anakin smiled weakly, wiping away the remaining streaks of sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. He looked at his watch, noting the time. "There's no way I'm finishing this paper tonight." He laughs at himself.
"Me neither, I'll do it eventually." you smile at his awkwardness, you always found it cute. "Will I be seeing you in Callahan's tomorrow?" you ask him, hoping he'll be there waiting on you with an empty seat next to his like always.
Anakin chuckled softly, feeling a bit embarrassed but relieved. He quickly cleaned himself up and took in a deep breath. "Yep, I'll be there," he replied, his voice steady once again. "Maybe we could grab coffee afterwards? If you're free, that is."
There was silence on the line before you spoke, but he hoped you'd accept his invitation. He needed to see you again, to be near you.
"That sounds great Anakin." you beam.
He smiled, grateful for the chance to talk to you without all the tension hanging over them. "See you tomorrow, then." he added, his voice friendly and casual.
You said your goodbyes and Anakin ended the call, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. As he hung up the phone, he glanced down at his sticky pants, a small smile playing on his lips. He couldn't wait for tomorrow's class.
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hail-the-veil · 4 days
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"my fuck doll" Sub! Bottom! D!ck grayson x dom! Top! Villain male reader.
SMUT, DARK CONTENT. I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING WRITTEN. FICTION IS FICTION.
NON CON/DUB CON, DARK/HEAVY CONTENT -
D!ck being turned to a fuck toy/sex slave!! :3
- brainwashed, mind break, mind control, manipulation, memory/identity erased, sir kink, saliva as lube, cum as lube, cunnilingus, womb fucking, mention of pregnancy, Servant/owner dynamic, sex slave/master dynamic, overstimulation, trans dick grayson, experiments, blowjob, cock worshipping, name calling/degradation, collar/leash. Mean reader. Reader is a scientist and has power of mind control/manipulation/brainwashed
:3
He struggled against his restrain. His head throbbing and pulsing like crazy. Such a headache. It's all started because of that stupid villain and stupid power, you to be precise. You had struck the vigilante with your power while on duel together. What a shame, dick didn't manage to dodge it. Now he has such a throbbing headache. 
“morning” you whispered in his ear, as his eyes widened, he grit his teeth. “what's going on? What did you do to me?” he spat, his gaze held thousands of unanswered emotions. Fear, confusion, anger.. You smirked at that. “just a little experiment, that's all,” you replied with a nonchalant tone. He looks at you confused and angrily. “i impaled some serum in your flesh to make my job easier”
“what are you gonna do to me? What serum?” his tone changes to panic. But he's trying to mask it to not let you see his vulnerable side. Unfortunately , you can read him like an open book. 
“I'm a bit of a scientist you see.. The serum i injected in you should let my ability to control your mind become easier. I could break your mind if i want to. Make you one obedient little toy” you claimed with a dreadful smile
He shivered in fear. He cursed under his breath and looked at you with horrified eyes. He stuttered “what..” he struggled against his restrained “let me go you psycho!” he shouted. 
You raise a brow and tsk under your breath. You placed a hand on his head, your power flowing right through his skull, he cried out in pain and tried to fight his restraint to no avail. He felt like his mind was exploding, his memory disappearing in seconds. Tears flooded his eyes as he yelled out for mercy. And slowly he stopped struggling against his restraint. His eyes grew cold. Empty. 
He's yours to mould now. 
And so you did. You moulded his mind like no other. His past is all gone. His identity missing. You kept him like a dog on a leash, whispering lies saying you're his saviour and master, and he's just a mere slave and a servant. He trusted your lies. Worshipping you as his master. 
He's such a perfect toy. Following your command and do everything like you asked of him.
:3
 
He hides his face with his arm as he whimpers your name. “mmh.. Sir..” dick whined under his breath. You mouthed his clothed pussy, your tongue sucking on his already wet boxer. Your thumb teases his nub, moving in circular motion. He moaned shamelessly into the pillow, hips buckled onto your hand, his cunt so wet just from your teasing. You toyed with the waistband before pulling his boxer all the way to his knee. His cunt twitched in anticipation. Juices flowing out shamelessly. He looked at you with heart filled eyes, a drunken smile on his face. “sir..”  he wiggled his hip in an attempt to rile you up. “please..” he moaned out with the same drunken smile grinding his wet cunt against your crotch. “punish me.. “ he whispered. He holds the leash of his collar and hands it to you. Dick looked at you expectantly. “such a slut.. “ you mumbled with a smirk. Far be it for you to disappoint, you pulled the leash which caused him to moan out loudly. 
He shifted his position, his face now against your crotch. His teeth bite onto the  zipper of your pants and he pulls it down. Then his teeth bite onto your waistband and pull it down to reveal your hardened member. He looks at it hungrily. “sir.. May i?” he asked with a soft tone. You nodded with a smirk. His eyes sparkled in delight as he took in your cock in his mouth without another warning. His tongue swirls on the base of it. His hand grabs your balls and massages it lightly. He pulls out your cock from his mouth which causes a wet sinful sound. He began to kiss the tip and work his way down, he kissed each veins and his tongue swirls on the base. He moaned and gagged on your lenght, his eyes watered but he didn't mind it at all. He loves your cock. You tugged his hair and dick let out a sweet pornographic moan. “so.. Good” he stuttered under his breath before he continued to worship your cock. As he deep throat your length deep in his mouth he looked at you with adoration and lust, which caused you to snap. You tug on his leash and he pulls out your wet member from his mouth with a confused expression. You pinned him against the bed and He whined in your ear. 
You went in between his legs to suck on his clit like a starved man. He couldn't stop whining and moaning your name like a slut. “sir-! Sir please hah-!” he moaned. You smirked against his wet cunt, you took your time to savour the taste of his juices on your tongue, salty and sweet. Addictive. You couldn't wait any longer, you aligned your dick with his throbbing folds before thrusting in one go. He cried out in ecstasy “hah- ah!! Sir- move please.. !” he shouted. You complied and began to thrust harshly in and out of his cunt. His walls clenched on you begging you to go faster. You thrust in harder and hit his g-spot. His walls clenched on your cock and he let out the loudest moan of the night as he squirted on your member. 
“finish already? I didn't take you for such a slut “ you mocked him as you pinched on his nipples. “I'm not done yet. I'm fucking deep in your womb and I'm gonna make you carry my seed” you whispered in his ear as you began to thrust again. He whined as his hip bucked and tried to match your pace. Overstimulation kicking in after his previous orgasm. He moans non stop begging you to go slower. “mmh- mmm sir-! Pleasepleaseplease make me pregnant! I want to carry your babies!  Want you to fuck my slutty womb!” he exclaimed with a drunken grin, his eyes rolling back, his tongue lolling out. So you did. You pulled his leash and thrust deeper into his womb. He moaned out your name as he came for the second time. His juices wetted your cock and became the lubricant for your thrust. You feel your orgasm neared. 
You held his hip firmly, probably causing bruises as you thrust the deepest you could and came inside his womb. He cried out into the pillow, his hips rolling against yours, his walls clenching and milking your cock dry. You cursed under your breath. The picture of dick being pregnant with your seeds causes your member to harden again. Dick could feel that. He whined and thrust against your member weakly. 
“fuck.. I'm gonna make sure your womb is filled, slut”
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Note
thinking of best friend eddie accidentally finding your sex toys and it turns him on so much to think of you using them that he can’t help but jack off to them and you catch him and make him use them on himself 😃
Listen listen LISTEN LINDA!!!
Eddie munson x fem!reader
This took on a life of its own. I'm so sorry.
18+ minors dni
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It started off casually of him just rummaging through your thing. You're both so comfortable with one another and have known each other for a long time. You two don't feel the need to ask for permission to touch or even go through eachothers belongings.
You've seen his porn hell on late nights when you're both drunk. You even watch it together during those times. Usually, some light touches are involved and a steamy makeout session, but it's never really gone past that. You've seen him naked, and he's seen you naked plenty of times.
There isn't a part of you he hasn't seen, and the same goes for him. You know it should be awkward, and best friends shouldn't do this kind of stuff, but with him, it always felt right. He always knew what to say and made you feel completely safe with him.
So it's no surprise that when you're busy in the shower, he got bored and decided to snoop around a bit. Usually, he'd read your diary or rummage through your panty drawer just because he can. He wasn't a total perv, but he just liked looking at them. Imagining what you would look like wearing them. The way they would hug your ass and hips tight.
He went over to your nightstand, looking for the little book that held all of your secrets no one else knew but him. He dug in and noticed a little something in the far back of the drawer. Tucked away under some papers, but definitely not discreetly is a little naughty pink toy.
Eddies eyes immediately bugged out of his skull he knew you weren't a virgin. But the thought of you fucking yourself only entered his mind late at night. His cock grows hard just at the thought of you desperately trying to get yourself off. Did you think about him when you touched yourself?
He hopes you thought of him as you put that little toy to your clit. His cock continued to get painfully hard in his jeans thinking of you being a whimpering mess as you moaned his name. He can't help himself at this point. His cock is straining and just begging to be stroked.
He lays back on your back against your headboard. His heart is racing, knowing you're only mere inches away from him right now. He pulls down his jeans just far enough for his cock spring forward and slap his bellybutton. Closing his eyes and spitting on his hand, moving it down to give it a few light strokes.
He bites his lower lip to stifle a moan as he brings his thumb to press down on his tip. He tries being quiet as he thinks about using your vibrator on you. Making you cum over and over again until youre begging him to fuck you.
Hearing you moan his name, turning you into a complete and utter mess at his mercy. He's gotten so lost in his fantasy that he doesn't hear you open up your bedroom door. He's steadily pumping his cock thinking about how tight your pussy must feel. How wet you must get just by barely being touched.
You stood there, not knowing what to do at first. Should you leave him be? You were at first going to just sneak out, let him finish, and pretend like nothing happened. That was until you heard him moan your name under his breath.
Clearing your throat. "Need some help?"
Eddie's eyes shot open, and he froze, not really knowing what to say to or do. His hand still fisting his cock as he stares at you from his position. You move to sit next to him as you're wearing nothing but a towel. You notice the little pink toy lying next to him on the bed.
"Please." He whispered
Those big brown eyes begging you to help him.
His breathing quickens as he looks at you in disbelief. He can't believe he's finally doing this with you, his best friend. His best friend, whom he's been in love with since the day he can remember.
"Actually, since you want to get off so badly, how about you use this instead while i watch." You said as your eyes looked over to the vibrator laying next to him. He gulps a little nervous to do this infront of you but also so fucking excited. He picks it up, turning it on its lowest setting. Feeling the hum of the vibration in his palm.
Bringing the vibrator to his tip, he hisses at the sudden sensation. His chest already heaving up and down rapidly. He knows he won't last much longer, and at this point, he doesn't care. He's been dying to cum for too long at this point. He moves it up and down his length and back to his tip again.
You watch him buck his hips up as he moves the toy up and down his cock. He's moaning and whimpering, biting down down on his other fist, trying his best to keep quiet. He doesn't want you to him hear him sound so desperate. His face is flushed. His body covered in sweat as his hair sticks to his face.
"Mmmfph! Fuck!"
"I-im gonna cum. "
He's not trying to hide his moans anymore, and he turns up the intensity of the vibrator. You're growing wetter the longer you watch him squirm in front of you from across the bed. His tip is an angry shade of red as it leakes precum.
Within just a few more minutes he's shooting cum all over his stomach. His head falls back as his mouth hangs open. Drool is spilling down his chin, and his eyes are glossed over. Eddies takes a little bit to come to his senses. He's never came that hard before for anyone ever just and hopefully only you.
"Shit." He said out of breath.
A small smirk forms on his face as he turns to look at you again. He wiggled his eyebrows and tossed the vibrator on your lap. You looked down noticing some of his cum got on it.
"It's your turn, sweetheart."
2K notes · View notes
youronlydarlin · 4 months
Text
warning: kinda sad ANGST, Simon losses you :( , ooc kinda?? But he's soft for you only, trust me bro
This was kinda inspired by that one part in the comics where our poor, Si holds his mums skull, n he jus'... Kinda nuzzles into it. I dunno it just bought on some sad feeling, mkay...
Simon who slightly raises the cup of tea he's drinking each time he has one, just to let you know he's relaxing. Or trying his best too, at least. Doesn't know what he'll do if he worried you from beyond the grave. Sometimes he looks at all the belongings you left behind. Saying how they probably miss you, but not nearly as much as he does.
Unlike some, Simon uses your things. He doesn't want the house to go through the pain of loosing you too. So he drinks from your mug, and sits on your chair. Reads your favorite books, but never takes out the book marks in case you want to continue reading them. He also completes your bucket list for you, and even though he's the one doing them he always whispers 'good job, to the wind, hoping they'll carry the messenge to you.
Simon who speaks to your framed pictures. He remembers each, and every memory behind them. "Bet your happy... Now it'll always be my turn to grab the 'bloody groceries.." he jests. He hopes that one made you laugh. Knowing you, you would've. It's a mystery how you always laughed at his lame jokes. Though your laugh's always been better than the awful punchlines.
Simon who passes by that cafe you bugged him to go with you to, and he feels his throat go dry. He never got to take you there because of a sudden call from Price, telling him about an urgent, albeit sudden, mission. He definitely regrets not taking you out on dates more often. There's so many shops opening that he knows you would've loved to see.
Simon who's heart breaks at how quickly the world turns without you. Everything's moving so quickly, leaving him behind like it's already moved on, and he hates it. He hates how there's less clothes to fold now. Food is served, but only for one. The taste of it is flavorless, and dry. It's times like these, that he wishes he should have took the time and learn your recipes.
But what's worse, is that your side of the bed is cold. And it'll remain that way forever. At times he'll reach for you absentmindedly. Nightmares about war traded for dreams about you, but during those dreamless nights where sleep doesn't visit he'll stroke your pillow the same way he'd do to keep your hair out of your face, and pull the covers over the empty space you once occupied. He wonders if it's cold where you are right now. But just know that he's always willing to warm you up if ever you come back.
Simon who...
Stands at the doorway. Bag slinged over his shoulder, full of everything he needs and more for deployment. He knows he can't leave without properly saying goodbye, so he fishes out his wallet, and digs out a picture of you. He holds it up to his face, and it's funny. How you're not even staring at the camera when the photo was taken. No, you were staring at him. This one's always been his favorite. So he clears his throat, and wishes you don't hear the slight shake in his tone.
"..By now you would've told me to be careful.. And I will, by the way. But, m' sorry for all the times I didn't...'
....
" I have to go now. Don't need them gettin' on my ass for 'being late.. so.."
....
"..You just rest now, ok, love? There's nothing else for you to worry about' anymore. I love you, always. Wish me, and the boys luck, yeah?.."
He gives a light kiss to your photo, and it's as if you're with him when he steps outside the door..
a/n: This was a challenge to write, and I don't know what to feel about the results. I'm just polishing my english, I guess. M'not good at writing angst, you can probably tell, also my grammar feels off on this one, again. English isn't my first language, sorry. So please correct me on any mistakes I've made! But putting all that aside, I hope you like this more than I do! And, always remember that you are loved, and cared for! Have an amazing day, my darlings!
Yours, truly,
–dolly
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ilys00ga · 5 months
Text
BABY, I CARE FOR YOU.
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➞ pair: yoongi x f reader
➞ genre: sickfic, best friends to potential lovers (who knows?), fluffy fluff, yoongi being the best bff you could ever ask for, I miss him so much.
➞ synopsis: where the reader is sick and her bff is always there for the rescue.
➞ warnings: none.
➞ A/N: another request by @parkjennykim, who used 'she/her' pronouns in the req so I used those accordingly. This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :)
PS. readers, remember my reqs are still open for now. you can go ahead and send some (read pinned post if u haven't yet, tho).
★ MASTERLIST.
ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆。˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑
the bag you've been carrying all day slipped off of your shoulder as soon as you pushed the door to your apartment open and stepped in. not bothering to pick it up, you remove your shoes and leave them somewhere near the entrance and take a deep breath through the nose.
your body was having a party that day. muscles and head aching like crazy, throat bleeding as it burned with a ticklish feeling that lingered for hours and bringing out coughing fits from your chest every few minutes, legs barely holding you up and an annoyingly runny nose, you're sure the skin around it is red and raw from how you've been rubbing at it with tissues all day. not to forget the fact that you were freezing to death even though the heaters were doing their work in the flat more than enough.
“Mom is finally home!” A loud squeal came rushing from down the hall. You raised your head with some difficulty to see your best friend approaching you with your cat, Leo, in his arms and a wide smile adorning his face. He stopped in his tracks and frowned, however, as soon as he noticed your scowling expression and bloodshot eyes.
“Woah, you look so not happy right now.” he commented.
“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” Though your expression softened as you spoke, your voice still held a wince the more uncomfortable the light bulb became to your squinted eyes.
“You didn’t answer my calls or even texts, so I just decided to come over myself.” he explained, then eyed you up with knitted brows and a barely noticeable pout on his cherry red lips, “are you okay?”
“My head and body are killing me. I’m going to sleep. You can stay as much as you like, just feed Leo before you leave, plea-." A couple of sneezes cut your sentence off. The action stabbed daggers into your already throbbing brain; so painful that your eyes teared up and you squeezed your hands around your skull to try and control the waves of shock that hit you all of a sudden.
“Wait,” Yoongi put Leo on the floor and walked towards you. the back of his hand felt like a soft, warm blanket wrapped up around your body on a cold, snowy night as it rested on your forehead, so you closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction.
“You’re so hot.” he grimaced at the heat that bit his skin, and when he noticed how you smirked mischievously with your eyes still closed shut, he whined, “don’t!”
“I’m not doing anything!” Your tongue felt numb as you blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.
“Come, you need to take a warm bath and eat something.” his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling towards the bathroom.
"Your hands are always warm. I like that a lot." you whispered, absent-mindedly eying the way he was soothingly caressing the skin under his thumb.
“Are you going to bathe me?” his cheeks warmed up at the question you blurted so suddenly, but the way you were slurring your words implied that none of the things you were rambling about were intentional. the fever really took its toll on your brain.
“Go do your thing, and I'm going to make you something warm to eat.” he bit his lower lip and pointed towards the bathroom, leaving to start doing his task in the kitchen.
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"The walls are spinning around me!" You whimpered as soon as you entered your room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, a fluffy, warm hoodie swallowing your torso and a pair of sweatpants. Yoongi, who was sitting on your bed, immediately fixed his gaze on you with a small smile. you could spot your favorite pair of socks laying beside him on the bed sheets, and your heart skipped a beat or two at how thoughtful that small gesture alone was.
"I'm sorry. let me just blow dry your hair, and then you can eat." he apologized, pointing at the hair dryer he'd been holding in his hand and patting the empty spot next to him.
"You're spoiling me today." You complained, but still obediently sat besides your sweet friend.
"You're sick, I'm taking care of you." he replied matter-of-factly.
you murmured a small 'thank you' before he gently started taking the wet towel off your head, then started carefully drying your hair.
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When you stepped into the kitchen, you found Yoongi setting plates, along with utensils on the small table located by the wall. his eyes landed on you as soon as your painful-sounding coughs announced your arrival.
“Feeling any better?” his brows rose worriedly, and his gaze followed your hunched up body as it walked and took a seat.
“kind of. thanks for the food.” You offered a genuine smile despite all the tiredness washing over your limbs. he nodded knowingly.
“Here, take these when you finish eating.” He put a tablet right next to your bowl and sat across from you, digging into his own plate as well.
After a while, you decided to break the comfortable silence when your eyes fell upon the clock hanging just above the door frame, “You have work tomorrow, and it’s getting late. you should probably go.”
“I know you’re a jackass and you’d sleep on an empty stomach if you wanted to, even when you’re sick.” he muttered so casually it almost made you giggle if it weren't for the guilt of forcing him to stay taking over your mind.
“That’s not right!” You started to argue but hissed when your head reminded you that it still got a tornado going on inside of it as it throbbed even harder.
“Stop talking and eat!” he scolded, and you wordlessly complied.
"I'm not leaving until you're tucked into bed and fast asleep," he added in a stern tone after a small pause, making you grin weakly and stuff your face with another spoonful of soup.
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"Are you feeling any better?" Once again, yoongi asked after pulling the duvet over your chin. he chose to sit right by your side, on the floor and with his back facing you.
you replied with a muffled hum, barely audible as you were busy gratefully enjoying the softness of your comforter with closed eyes. it felt as though it had some kind of magic that absorbed all the aching tension in your body, allowing you to finally heave a sigh in relief after such a long, tiring day.
"Where's Leo?" you asked.
"probably napping somewhere after his meal."
"You fed him?"
"Of course I did. I'm not like you, forgetting my cat as soon as I get sick." he smirked teasingly.
"I didn't! I knew you were gonna stay, and I trusted you, like I always do." Your voice was only getting weaker and weaker, sleepy as you fought a battle against sleep just to answer your cheeky best friend.
Yoongi only smiled, glancing at you with tinted cheeks. he allowed his gaze to linger just a tad bit more on your closed eyes, nose poking out above the fuzzy blanket and shoulders ever so faintly shivering as the fever still clung onto you. he found the sight so endearing, he chuckled quietly and sighed, "Good to know you do."
"'m so 'ired." You slurred.
"Sleep, darling. I'm right here." was the last thing you heard him say ever so gently before surrendering your powers and drifting into a deep slumber.
Yoongi kept observing as you slept for a while before standing up. He bent down to press one soft kiss on your cheek and another one on your forehead, then walked out of the room with extra efforts not to make any noise and disturb your peaceful night when it had just started.
"Mom is sleeping. Let's hang out in the living room, hmm?" He picked up the fluffy cat that came running towards him as soon as he saw the door opening and kissed his head. heading towards the living room with a small smile on his face.
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margowritesthings · 7 months
Text
BITE ME
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pairing: Vampire!Arthur Morgan x Human!f!reader word count: 4091 words warnings: 18+ minors DNI, explicit sexual content, explicit language, piv intercourse, fingering (r receiving), biting and blood play, vampire feeding authors note: happy halloween my loves! this is a day late, but time isn't real anyway so we can all just pretend it is yesterday... right?? anyway, this au is now living rent free in my mind. i'm obsessed.
taglist:@cowboydisaster @inkandbloodbound @counteveryfreckle @elifsukirdaghehe @reaveries@delilah-grimes@mrsarthurmorgan7 @twola@the-marsh-harrier @wildfloweroutlaw @photo1030 @luvliewriting@pine4pple-b0i @sickvictorianangel
beta read by @cowboydisaster, divider by @saradika
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The wooden panels nailed to the broken windows of the manor allow for tiny slats of moonlight to invade onto your skin, bathing you in a white glow. Peering through the gaps, you can see the distant campfire those bastard Pinkertons set up down by the swamp, but you know they’re surrounding you, boxing you into Shady Belle like fish in a barrel. 
It’s been three days of a stalemate, the Pinkertons keeping their distance, brave enough to come with guns and firepower but just cowardly enough to not advance towards the monster they’ve heard only legend of, lest he rip their throats out and drain their life away. No, they’d rather wait around until they can drag his starved body out and be hailed heroes.
That “monster” sits mere feet away from you leaning against the wall, pale skin paler still, his chin tilted upwards as he fights the weight of his own skull. It’s killing you, watching your Arthur grow weaker by the hour. Three days of hiding out in Shady Belle, unable to leave for fear of being hunted for sport, but it’s been much longer since he last fed. They have you trapped, completely and truly. If Arthur held even half his usual strength, it would have been so easy to escape. He’d have overpowered them in seconds, no matter their numbers or firepower. But for that, he’d need to feed on the blood of another, which has made things much harder.
You try to relax your worried features when you see him start to wake, rubbing the crease out from between your eyebrows formed by the frown you hold whenever you watch him sleep, too scared to look away in case he stops stirring. 
“Arthur…” You whisper on an exhale, quickly moving to sit beside him on the little bed. As always, his skin feels like marble, cold enough to seep through his shirt and scatter goose pimples over your arms. You’re used to the cold, what you don’t like is the thin layer of sweat coating him. Vampires shouldn’t sweat, but they also shouldn’t go so long without feeding, and the thought of this being a symptom of time running out terrifies you more than any number of monsters out camping in those woods.
“Hey, sweetheart…” Arthur shuffles to make room for you, guiding you to rest your head on his hard chest. There’s normally more muscle here cushioning you from his ribcage, but with Arthur so sick you can feel every bone beneath you.
“You get any sleep?”
There’s always the option to lie so he worries less, but Arthur knows you too well for that, so only the truth will have to do.
You shake your head, “Was keeping watch. They haven’t moved, think they’re still shit-scared of you, actually.” 
Absent-mindedly, Arthur’s hand gravitates to the top of your head, stroking your hair in such a way that sends tingles down your spine. Even now, in the midst of perhaps the most danger you’ve ever been in together, his very touch has the power to calm you instantaneously. 
He huffs a laugh, though you notice the slight wheeze to his breath when he does and another pang of worry hits you, “Course they are. Call themselves goddamn hunters, couldn’t catch a cold in Colter…” A pause, where you fill the silence with that tiny little laugh you’ve barely been mustering lately, then, “You should get some sleep, darlin’.” 
“Not tired.” You protest, almost childishly, burying yourself further into Arthur’s chest. In truth, you’re exhausted, and even though he already knows it, you won’t admit it. You can’t tell him that you’re too scared to fall asleep in case you wake up alone, that there’s no point anyway because nightmares of him withering away to nothing here beside you will drag you back awake soon enough. 
You both know this can’t go on for much longer. Something has to be done, and you know you have to be the one to do it. It’s just the convincing… 
“C’mon, baby…” He starts, but you won’t hear it. You’re not going to sleep. You’re going to fix this.
“You have to feed on me.” You blurt out, glad to be nuzzled into your beloved’s shirt so you don’t have to see whatever expression your statement has pulled from him. 
It’s not spontaneous, no sudden solution that has sprung into your mind this very moment. You’ve suggested it before, albeit never so forcefully, Arthur brushing you off like the idea is unfathomable. Explaining that he would never feed from you, terrified he’d lose control and hurt you. He could never hurt you. If there are such things as absolutes, that is one of them, you know it.
“No.” He’s blunt, clearly hoping his tone had enough force to end it there. But you’re strong, your will to keep fighting for him an everlasting force enough to match his. 
“Arthur-” You unravel from him to sit up and meet his eye, yours pleading, his hardened. 
“Darlin’, I said no. I mean it. I promised you I would never hurt ya’, and shit have I broke a lot of promises in my life… but not that one. N-Never that one. No.” 
“You’re going to die, Arthur. If you don’t do this you’re going to die and you’re gonna leave me all on my own to face those bastards a-and,” Dammit, when did you start crying? “And I can’t do it without ya, Arthur you know I can’t-”
“Yes you can-”
“Well I don’t want to!”  You shout, bursting the bubble of quiet around the Manor, your echo riding the wave of birds flocking out of the trees. Sobs threaten to break your strength, but you have to say this. It’s the very last card you have to play. After a few moments, tension between you growing palpable enough to cut with a knife, Arthur closes his mouth, letting you continue. 
“Arthur, you’re all I have left… You think I’m a sharp enough shooter to get by them? Fine. But say I kill ‘em all, then what? Find somewhere to live and carry on? I ain’t… I can’t lose you, Arthur. But I can save you, if you let me. Please.” 
Time feels as though it stops entirely when you see Arthur actually considering your words. Tears streak your cheeks, but your boots could ignite right on your feet and you might not notice in this moment. He looks so tortured in thought, no doubt imagining the life you would lead if you left him behind. He’s sure you’re strong enough, he knows you can do anything, but his heart breaks thinking of you all alone. 
You reach for Arthur’s hands, feeling his cold skin tremble. 
“I… What if I lose control? What if I hurt you? Sweetheart, you know what I get like when I-”
“But you won’t. You know how much blood I can afford to give you, and I know you, Arthur. You’d never hurt me.” 
You elect not to tell him that any blood that runs through your body belongs to him already, your heart pumping it through your veins only for him. 
You don’t tell him you’d die for him, because you know he’d never let you. 
He’s silent, contemplating. 
Please.
Please.
“...You start feeling faint or anything, you fuckin’ tell me, alright?” His tone holds an attempt at sternness, but it bothers you none. You can hardly hear him for the rush of relief flowing over you. 
“I-I will. I promise.” And you mean it. The two of you are two entwined souls, neither trusting the other to have enough will to keep fighting if anything happened to them. 
Arthur takes a deep breath in, almost like he’s giving himself an extra few seconds to back out of this, before sighing it out. 
“Alright.”
The breath that hitched in your throat an age ago releases and you wipe your tears away hurriedly with the back of your hand. 
“Oh, thank you, Arthur…” You’re so ecstatic, so grateful that he’s letting you save him that all you can do is launch yourself over to him, kissing him with all the passion the universe has offered you to gift him. Your hands fall to either side of his face, caressing his marble skin in a way that emits a tiny groan from him. Over the last few days, you’ve cuddled up to him a lot, but there hasn’t been much contact like this. Needy and wanting, loving and layered with everything from I Love You to Let Me Save You. Arthur is a starved man, but not just for blood. For you, body, blood and soul. 
Arthur snakes one arm around your waist, even with his reduced strength still able to pull you over to straddle his lap. You’d have protested, citing that he’s too sick to be holding your weight like this, but now that this is really happening you’re getting kind of nervous, and the thought of being so close to him, arms wrapped around your frame while he feeds on your blood, comforts you hugely. And there’s no backing out, not from this, so straddle him you will. 
Despite everything, Arthur’s cool touch sets you aflame. He trails his fingertips up and down your spine, his other hand firmly gripping your ass. His tongue teases your bottom lip until you open up to him, tasting him as he does you. He tastes…like Arthur. He might argue that he’s some monster, committing evil acts in the name of survival, but you know better. He’s your Arthur, he always has been. 
The world melts around you, leaving just you and Arthur, loving each other, saving each other. That one long kiss breaks into smaller ones, until Arthur is peppering your lips, cheeks and nose with tiny kisses, glistening red eyes welling with emotion.
“It was always gonna be you, wasn’t it? You were always gonna save me…” He whispers, almost like he doesn’t quite believe it’s real.
“Always. And you’re gonna save me right back, cowboy. But first…” You look down between your two bodies, to the arm you’re holding out to Arthur. 
“Are you ready?” 
“Does it hurt?” You surprise yourself with your answer to his question, though you stand by it. You’re not scared, you could never be scared with Arthur. But nervous?
“A little. But I’m right here with you. And if you need to stop or take a break or you start feeling off, tell me or tap my arm.” You nod slowly, placing your hand into Arthur’s, “I need a yes, sweetheart… I can’t do this to you unless you’re sure.”
“Yes, Arthur. I’m sure. Please.”
There is one final, apprehensive glance in your direction, which you reply to with another tiny nod. He raises your flesh to his mouth, flashes of his white fangs visible now in the moonlight as he parts his lips. 
It’s… strange. A small scratching feeling when his teeth puncture the skin of your wrist that pinches your brows together. There’s a second of nothing, before Arthur starts to feed and steals the breath right out of your lungs. 
It’s like you can feel every vein in your body, all connecting and tugging your lifeforce through to your wrist for Arthur to feast on. You can tell the second the first drop hits his tongue, the shudder that wracks through his shoulders and down his spine. His eyes roll back in… pleasure? You’ve seen him feed before, usually such a violent affair, but this is different. You feel vulnerable to him, and as though you hold every ounce of control all at once. 
When he groans, deep carmine eyes locking onto yours, you feel it all over, your thighs clenching around your suddenly wanting pussy. 
… An unexpected side effect. 
Maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the blood rushing around your body, or even the downright ravenous way Arthur is looking at you while he feeds on your blood, but you seem to be physically squirming on the bed, desperate for any kind of friction you can get. Fuck, you’ve never seen anybody react to being fed on like this… Then again, you’ve never seen feeding look or feel like this.
From even the smallest drop of you, what little colour that remains after his change has returned to Arthur’s skin and he looks much closer to alive than just minutes before. He looks himself again, right down to the cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It does maddening things to you, not at all helping your growing state of arousal. 
When his teeth sink out of your wrist, you watch crimson beads pool at two tiny punctures. Without breaking eye contact with you, Arthur lifts your hand back up to him, running the very tip of his tongue agonisingly slowly over the skin, pulling an honest to god whimper from your parted lips.
“You did so good, my good girl…” Arthur coos, an undeniably pleased look upon his face. He’s told you before, that with his heightened senses, Arthur knows when you want him. You also know how energised he gets after feeding, and how all of these factors are leading to a tension so intense between you you’re almost scared of the outcome.
There’s a smudge of blood on Arthur’s lip, one that you reach out to rub away with your thumb. Quick as the predator he is, he grabs your wrist before you can pull away, slipping your thumb into his mouth and sucking the blood gently off. Upon release, he drags one sharpened fang across the pad of your thumb and you shudder, craving that feeling of the bite more than you truly understand.
“A-Arthur…” You whimper, shuddering in pure anticipation and need. 
“I know, sweetheart… Christ, I knew you’d taste good, but this? Fuck, you’ve ruined me, baby…”
You can’t wait a second longer, certain you’ll perish unless he is kissing you in the next moment. Entangling your grip into his collar, you find Arthur only too malleable to your touch, all but pouncing on you, locking your lips together. His tongue demands entrance as he easily positions you to be laying under him, Arthur covering the entire length of you and thensome. 
“How do you feel, angel?” He asks between kisses, large hands roaming your body, tugging your clothes out of being tucked into each other to make it easier to take them off, “Y’alright? Don’t feel faint?”
“I’m okay. I just- I-I need you, please.” You’re pleading again, this time for very different reasons, “Did you get enough?” 
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you, sweetheart…” He growls, pulling the buttons of your shirt open feverishly. And then his lips are back on your skin, kissing your neck, licking at the skin whilst his hands work your zipper. You moan again, some wanton part of you wishing he would bite down again, marking you all over. 
Arthur is losing control in the best way, growling and grinding his erection against your leg as he tries to pull your jeans down. With a little help, he manages, tugging your undergarments with them so you’re completely bare for him. 
“So fuckin’ beautiful… my perfect little feast. Fuck, I’m tortured by every second I’m not buried deep inside that weeping cunt of yours,” At that, he runs a finger over your slit, drenching the tip of his finger in your slick, “but I think you deserve a treat for being such a good girl for me…” 
There’s no time to consider his offer as he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you, curling them, curling them to hit that sweet spot he knows so well. You scream, absolutely loud enough for any Pinkerton vampire hunters to hear.
“That’s it, huh? That what you needed? That pretty little cunt filling?” He taunts, thumb swirling over your already soaking clit. You can’t speak for crying out, but you manage a nod, feeling yourself stretch around a third finger in a way that has your heart racing even faster.
With your pulse pounding, you can really feel the wounds on your wrist starting to ache and burn. It's a strange sensation, but one that seems to blend into everything else in some twisted bout of pleasure.
Arthur must notice your eyes flickering to it, as he guides your hand back up to his lips with the hand not inside you, pressing the softest kisses over the holes in your skin. 
“Look what you did for me… My saviour, my perfect girl…”
“I’d die for you, Arthur.” you confess, the sweetness of his kisses and the languid circles of his fingers pulling you so close to the edge you can feel tears forming behind your eyes.
“It’d never come to that, beautiful. I’d burn the world down before I let your life ever hang in the balance.”
You believe him, too, and the emotion is suddenly too much. You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you need him closer and all you can seem to think to do is untangle your wrist from his grasp and slip your thumb into his mouth.
He knows what you’re asking for instantly, and you swear you see his inky pupils blow until his eyes are nothing but a reddened void. 
“Oh, my pretty little feast…” He groans, pricking your thumb with a fang and sucking gently at the blood. It isn’t nearly as intense as your wrist, but you still feel that tugging everywhere and you can’t stop the lewd moans that fall from your lips as you come undone. 
Writing, screaming his name, you feel Arthur suck harder on your thumb, moaning himself at the taste of you. It’s not nearly as much as he was taking before, but enough that your blood blooms over his tongue and fills every one of his senses. He is a man obsessed, and it’s the most beautiful sight as you cum for him. 
The waves of euphoria crash over you, each more intense and wonderful than the last. Arthur orchestrates your orgasm through his own pleasure, drawing perfect patterns on your clit in time to his thrusts. 
When you come down, he’s there, releasing you from his fangs again to free his lips for yours. Your lips lock together, his body crushing yours into the mattress. You love the feel of all his weight on you, especially when you can feel every pulse of his throbbing cock through the denim of his jeans. Jeans that must go, so you snake a hand into what little space you can between your bodies to reach for his buttons. Arthur helps you, and he’s soon naked on top of you. Wrapping nimble fingers around his shaft, you run your thumb over the rosy head of his cock, swiping at the bead of precum already leaking. He’s desperate for you, and it drives you wild. 
You’re already guiding him to your soaked entrance, grinding your hips pathetically, needily. Arthur chuckles softly, taunting you with the smallest of hip movements to slide his tip into you, but stopping there. 
“Arthur.” You whine, eyes pleading, cunt dripping for him. Your hands roam the expanse of his back, feeling each muscle twitch under your touch, scratching at the cool skin like a cat in heat. 
“I know, baby, I know… I’ll make it better.” He purrs, finally sliding the entire length of his cock into your heat. It stretches you in that beautiful way only he can and you moan, deep and visceral. Your nails leave white scratches across Arthur’s back as your hands float up to cup his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss as his groin presses hard into yours.
“Oh, my beautiful girl… I’m gonna fuck you so hard they’re gonna hear you up in Saint Denis… them Pinkertons out there are gonna think I’m draining every last drop of that sweet blood out of your precious little body.”
Such a violent image, but somehow… you enjoy the thought. You’d bleed for him till the end of time, gladly… you’d lay down your life on a slab and be Arthur’s for the taking. 
You can’t think of the words to tell him how much you want what he’s telling you, letting the passion guide you to bite down on Arthur’s lower lip. A taste of his own medicine. He has no blood of his own to give, but you’re biting down hard enough to have drawn some if he did, dragging another feral grown from the depths of his throat. 
True to his word, with just a few perfectly timed thrusts, you’re screaming his name, cunt fluttering around his thick cock and squeezing every inch of it. That full feeling is so wonderful, so bone-deep and euphoric you’re on the precipice of another orgasm in seconds. He can tell, slowing down and hanging you right over the edge with a wicked grin on his face. You whine and whimper, clawing at the back of his neck to pull him even closer.
“What do you want, little feast? Use your words.” He pushes, still dragging his cock up against your walls in the most torturous of ways. 
“I want… I-I need… I-I… urgh!” You cry out in frustration, each syllable leaving your lips earning another thrust that dizzies you to the point of cock-drunk stuttering. Fuck words. You’ll show him. 
With a strength you didn’t even know you possessed, you pull Arthur closer, guiding him to the crook of your neck. 
“Angel, I don’t know if I can control myself if I taste you agai-”
“Please…” you whimper, rocking your hips up to meet Arthur’s movements, clit grinding deliciously against his pubic bone. 
Arthur’s eyes meet yours and you’re lost in them, convinced you’ve never been held so close to climax for so long before, but your body knows what it wants, what it needs to get there with Arthur. 
“Fuck, if I could die, you’d be the death of me…” Are the last words he speaks before sinking his teeth into your neck, in perfect time with a deep thrust of his cock. You scream, in pain, in pleasure, all of it, finally falling over that cliff and crashing into the waves below. You drown in your orgasm, dragging Arthur down with you as he sucks the sweet ichor out of your veins. With your blood on his tongue and his name on your lips, you cum together. The vibrations of his carnal moans tickle your neck, layering yet another juxtaposing sensation onto you. 
He releases, only to whisper sweet words of praise into your bleeding skin, “Look at you, giving me this… you’re doing so good for me, ain’t ya? My little angel, my good girl…”
And he’s biting down again, and you’re chanting his name, legs wrapped tight around his hips, tears you don’t remember shedding streaking down your cheeks. It feels like you stay there for an eternity, connected mind, body and soul. You would stay there for an eternity with him, if he’d only let you. But that’s another story…
It stings a little when Arthur unleashes his teeth from you, and you wince. His hand is there instantly, caressing the surely reddened skin as his brows pull together, “You okay? I didn’t go too far, did I? Y’feelin’ alright?” 
You shake your head softly, a blissful smile gracing your lips, “I’m perfect.” 
“Damn straight you are.” He remarks, slowly sliding out of you and lowering his weight onto the bed beside you. 
“What about you? How are you feeling?” You ask, entwining your fingers together and holding them up into the moonlight. There's a streak of your blood crossing over a few of Arthur’s knuckles. It suits him. 
“Never better.” He says honestly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you, darlin’. I’ll never be able to thank ya’ enough for what you did, but I promise you I’ll get us out of here alive. Well… y’know what I mean.” 
You giggle, sure you may never get used to the fact that the love of your life is dead. 
“You don’t need to thank me, Arthur. You’ve given me your life a million times, it’s only fair I get to do the same.”
And you mean it. You would do it a thousand times over, giving your life to Arthur while he gives his afterlife to you, saving each other until the end of time. 
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harmshake · 6 months
Text
Daddy's Little Helper
What Roman does for you he expects in return...
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Roman Reigns x Fem Reader | 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut | 1,089 words
a/n: I am in another writing slump right now so I won't be posting anything from WiPs any time soon, but hey, look what I found in my drafts. 🥹
Happy reading! Read my other Roman stories here, if you'd like. ✨
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Your knees sank into the cushiony sheets beneath Roman as you straddled him, sitting pretty with his dick nestled in you.
"You gonna make yourself cum on my dick, baby?" he asked you softly. He could see it in your eyes that glazed over with pleasure. You blushed from his attentive eyes on you and you could only nod as you were at a loss for words. Your mind was fuzzy with no thought but one...your body trembling as you winded on him to chase that thought and bring it to life. 
Your hands pressed to his strong, bare chest that you clawed at when it got good, his dick the perfect girth to nudge against every spot and catch every throb of your pussy that gave away how close you were...you only needed to hit your sweet spot just so...but it was evading you.
You took your time and he let you, he enjoyed it. He grasped you by your waist and soaked in your soaking wet warmth as he moaned with you. However, it was taking you a bit longer than usual as your nerves were all over the place from how handsome he was admiring you on top of him.
"You want Daddy to help you cum?" Roman whispered after several more minutes of your face flickering through the now frustrating ebb and flow of your orgasm as it simmered right beneath the surface.
You nodded again and Roman tipped his hips up a bit so you sat on him at an incline, your body falling forward a bit and your lips landing on his forehead. You kissed it before a moan jumped out of you as you felt the difference immediately, your agitation melting away with his dick nuzzling to your g-spot as he ran his big hands up your back. 
"Oh, shit, baby..." was all you could gather to utter with another deep moan escaping you. Roman stayed put at the angle that made it easy for you to grind on him until your simmering orgasm began to bubble and spill over you.
"Yeah? That feel good, baby girl?" he cooed to you, slipping one of his hands from your waist to your throat, right beneath your jaw, and squeezing lightly. He knew you liked that to push you over the edge, and you confirmed it with a whimper that left your lips parted as you abruptly came, the first quivering wave so intense your hips stuttered to a stop.
"It feels gooood...unnhh. I'm cumming," you sobbed, your mind going blank and your voice cracking with raspy moans both from your pleasure and his hand gripping your throat.
Roman picked up where you left off, grinding up into you with his free hand falling back to your waist to hold you steady. His eyes stayed on you to see you lose yourself on him. Your eyelids fluttered shut as your moans fell from your open mouth, but you heard him demand, "Look at me when I make you cum. I wanna see those beautiful eyes roll for me."
His grip around your neck tightened just a bit until you obeyed, the delicious feeling forcing your eyes open as they tried to see the back of your skull. He then gripped even tighter, intensifying your orgasm to heights your moans couldn't even reach. The pathetic attempts teetered off into pants and whines, sounds that told him you were overwhelmed with searing ecstasy.
That's when Roman pulled you to him by your throat until your lips touched his, kissing you and consuming your whimpers before he purred quietly, "That's my sweet girl. Is it Daddy's turn to cum now?"
You felt yourself nod once more before he covered your lips with a wet, greedy kiss that made you moan on his tongue.
"You gonna help me like I helped you, baby girl?"
"Yes, Daddy," you replied without another thought in a husky breath once you caught it.
Roman searched your eyes to see if you understood the assignment in your blissed-out state. Your cheeks felt warm as you blushed and watched him command in his own husky voice, "Then I need you to bounce on this dick, sweetheart. Don't stop until you feel me cummin' inside you. Can you do that?"
"Yessss, fuck!" you moaned with your head just as airy as your voice when he thrust up and hit the back of your pussy to make sure you were listening.
Roman then nodded with a tiny grin and pushed you back upright to let your hands fall to his chest again as you steadied yourself. He studied you with adoration, all cute and fucked up from your stupefying orgasm, and he bit his lip as you did the best you could to move and buck your hips to pounce on his dick.
"Mmm, fuck, baby...just like that. Ride this dick..." he groaned right when you thought you were too far gone to do the job he needed you to do. His fingertips dug into your right asscheek and left hip to hold you, not help you, as he gazed at you whining with each slam of your pussy swallowing him and keeping him deep. 
"Look at you workin' for Daddy's cum..." 
Your thighs burned from exhaustion but you were determined to make Roman cum as good as he made you...yet when you slowed down a little, his heavy hand as it spanked your ass brought you back to life. "Unh unh, don't stop now, sweetheart. You said you would help me cum in this pretty pussy, right?"
Another swift spank when you didn't respond fast enough made you yelp, "Ye-esss, Daddy!"
"You wanna feel my cum in you, don't you?" he groaned in a gruff tone with his eyes locked on yours before he licked his lips.
You shivered and nodded your head fervently, your nails sunk into the broad muscles of his shoulders for leverage as you bounced on him until his whines deepened into bellowing moans. He gripped your hips to keep you still and make you feel his dick gently spasming with each rope of warm cum you earned.
Your moans nearly drowned out his, your hands on your breasts to squeeze and tease your nipples as you rested and relished in the feel of him filling you. When you met his gorgeous gaze, you shook with satisfaction from seeing exhaustion finally catch up with him...and validation from his words as Roman grunted, "Such a good little helper. Take it all, baby...you deserve it."
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Thanks for reading! ❤️
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flowercrowngods · 3 months
Text
something so monstrous pt.2
(in which kas feeds from steve and triggers a bad migraine pt.2)
🤍🌷 read part 1 here this part gets really intense on the migraine. descriptions of immense pain, fever dreams, and vomiting, some body horror imagery bc pain can be fun like that
Time and space lose all meaning as Steve remains on the precipice of something that is too violent to be called sleep, but not harsh enough yet to be unconsciousness. Real sensations evade him as everything turns into pain immediately. Even the twitch of his finger becomes a thundering blaze of blinding pain shooting through his body and settling behind his eye until he is sure he will wake up blind. 
The fear of that is everpresent, the blind spots too real to ignore every time it goes like this, and he imagines how they will grow. He imagines how they get worse every time until one day the pain inside his skull will be so immense it will take his eyesight in exchange for alleviation.
And even though it is unbearable, he opens his eyes whenever he can, just to make sure he can see still. It’s an added veil of terror that covers him whole and consumes him slowly but continually. 
At some point he notices something cold and wet being placed over his eyes, adding another layer of darkness that is welcome, even if it leaves an imprint of pressure and sensation on his forehead that makes his skin tear around it, his skull cracking and caving in beneath the touch. 
And still it helps a little, pulling him further toward consciousness but not further toward the pain itself. But Steve can only whimper weakly in response, six feet under a thick cloud of cotton-filled smog that even turns breathing into a chore, polluting his lungs with fear and horror and agony without compare.
He does fall into a fitful sleep at some point, grateful for the short reprieve, but it does nothing to alleviate his exhaustion. 
It feels like his eyeballs are being pushed into his skull for what must be hours upon hours, and the pain is so unbearable, so horrible, that he's not at all surprised when nausea rises in his chest, his body responding to its current state with confusion and a hard-reset. 
Steve keens, trying to roll onto his side, groaning at the flares of pain shooting up into his skull and down into his limbs. They only worsen the nausea and it's pure instinct that gives him the strength to sit up. 
"Kas?” he whispers, swallowing thickly against another wave. "Bathroom?” 
Instead of giving him directions or pulling him up to drag him there, Kas wastes no time. He gets up off the floor, approaching him with shuffling steps once more, and gently but quickly lifts Steve off the bed in a hold — firm, yet gentle — that brings another sting of tears to Steve's eyes. Pain and vulnerability and the need for everything to be over. That’s what makes him cry.
Still he manages to hold on, his head rolling onto Kas's shoulder, the skin of his neck blissfully cool against Steve’s overheated forehead pressing into him. 
Make it stop, he thinks. Longs. Aches. It’s supposed to be over. It’s all supposed to be over now. 
He whimpers again, and imagines that Kas is the one to softly shush him this time.
The coolness of Kas's neck is gone all too soon as the vampire sets Steve on the hard, uncomfortable bathroom floor. He doesn't go far, though, crouching down beside him and holding him up over the toilet. Steve can't see anything, but still he’s grateful that Kas left the lights off, the bathroom tinged in the same darkness as his bedroom. 
Pathetically, Steve rests his forehead on the toilet seat, chasing the coldness of it as pain and nausea reach their peak. It’s disgusting, but be’s not strong enough to care. A whine breaks from him, and he wishes Kas would leave. Even though the cold hand on his neck feels good, and even though he knows he wouldn't be able to hold himself up right now. 
I'm not weak, he wants to say. And maybe he does. But he can't recognise his own voice right now. 
"Not weak, maybe, but pathetic." 
No. 
"You know you are." 
Shut up. Go away. 
It doesn't make sense for Mr Munson to suddenly be here with them, to stand in the doorway and watch his nephew, who is more monster than human these days, holding up the pathetic form of Steve, who is more pain than human. More smoke than human. More vulnerable weakness than remotely human.
Go away. Eddie? I want him to go away. Tell— Go ‘way. 
The hand wanders, pulling Steve against cool skin again so his forehead rests against the toilet no longer, basking in the cold touch and the warmth of a body to hold him. 
"Safe," Kas says, and Steve wants to badly to believe him. Wants Wayne to leave, wants everyone to leave and just let him suffer in silence and solitude like always. 
Wayne starts talking again, but Steve can't hear him this time as he suddenly heaves and retches, throwing up what little he had to eat today. Over and over and over.
It goes like this for a long time. He has no idea how long. Has no idea where he even is anymore. 
The world tilts a few times when he loses his grip, his arms buckling, his hands spasming and giving out, and still he never falls. Only ever feels the cold, damp skin of Kas’s neck. 
Kas has to carry him to bed when he's done and on the brink of passing out again, and Steve doesn’t mind this time. Kas also hands him a glass of water or two before pushing him back to lie down again. That’s nice. 
The wet cloth returns, and Steve isn't aware of his surroundings for much more after that.
—— 
The next time Steve comes to, he feels like he was freshly dragged through Lover’s Lake until his lungs gave out. His head is pulsing violently, his senses are sluggish and everything feels foggy. He has no idea where he is, the room pitch black around him as he lifts a lukewarm damp cloth from his eyes. 
A soft groan falls from his lips as he stretches his aching, cramped limbs, rubbing his hands over his face and regaining the feeling in his body. Little pinpricks of phantom pain shoot through him, his mouth tastes like ash and his head protests rather violently against his pathetic attempt at sitting up. 
He is disoriented and something about his vision is still messed up, something in the depths of the room not quite right and leaving him with a dizziness he can’t quite shake, followed by a wave of anxiety that something’s wrong with his eyes. 
He blinks. Blinks again, finding more things in the strange room as he does, his sluggish brain slowly catching up and filling in the blanks.
It all comes back to him like a tidal wave when he suddenly finds himself blinking at a pair of red eyes, softly glowing and wide open. 
“Kas,” he croaks, his throat absolutely parched. 
One second he’s wincing at that, the next he finds a cool glass of water pressed into his hands before the eyes and the shadowy form they belong to retreat to the foot of the bed again. 
 “Thanks,” he murmurs, stalling as he takes a sip. Embarrassment rises in him, but he doesn’t want to apologise. The thought of that somehow makes the vulnerability that much worse, so he tries to ignore it. It’ll all be fine if they simply not acknowledge it. 
He wants to ask for the time instead, wants to know how much the migraine took from him this time, but he knows Kas doesn’t really understand the concept of it all, let alone know the numbers. 
A silence settles between them and it’s somewhere between welcome and uncomfortable. Just like everything that happens in Hawkins. It makes Steve feel like a ghost again, but this time he’s a ghost in the room, not just in his own head. He’s the one who’s out of place.
With a little sigh, he places the glass on the makeshift nightstand again and falls over onto his side. His head is mad at him for it, still feeling too fragile for sudden movements, but lying down feels better than sitting.
There’s a huff from Kas that sounds more amused than derisive, so Steve looks at him. Looks at the shimmer in those eyes before closing his own again, not wanting to be looked at right now. Not wanting to face it.
“You,” Kas says then, his voice quiet and without the edge of that animalistic growl. The sound of someone who’s not meant to speak at all. The souvenir of someone who was human once before Evil grabbed him and modified him to His liking. 
“Me,” Steve says, an automatic response, just as quiet. He’s listening. 
“How… How are…” Kas struggles, huffing in frustration at the words that refuse to come, but still it’s the most coherent Steve has ever heard him. It makes him sit up half way again; leaning his weight on one arm to focus all his foggy and cloudy attention on the vampire trying to ask him how he is feeling. 
No more words come, though, the question half finished in the air between them. But somehow it makes Steve smile. Just a little bit. This feels important. And huge.
“My head hurts,” he answers truthfully, amused when Kas’s eyes snap back to his. To search them. To communicate something.
“Hurts?” 
“Yeah. It will, for a while. Always does. Nothing to do about it, really.” He wishes he felt as indifferent to it as he sounds, but that’s just the tiredness clouding his tone. It’s fast approaching now that he knows he’s relatively safe. Now that he knows he can rest. His arm gives out and he slides, slowly this time, back to lie on the pillow. “But it’s not as bad. And the other pain is gone, so…” 
So. He could go home now. He should, probably. Ignoring the weakness in his bones and the exhaustion in his every fiber. If he closed his eyes again right now, he could fall asleep. Still, maybe he should—
“Stay,” Kas says again, and Steve really should have figured. He’s not quite well enough to really fight him on that, though, so he shrugs. 
“Fine,” he mumbles into the pillow, halfway back to slumberland already. 
There’s movement on the foot of the bed, and before he knows it Kas has tucked him in again, draped across the pillows as he is. It’s still unreal, that, but Steve won’t complain. What’s even more unreal, though, is the image Steve gets of Kas curling up by the foot of the bed in a similar position. As if he still means to keep watch. 
It’s ridiculous. A little weird. And sort of endearing.
——
The next time Steve wakes, everything around him is a little brighter, daylight fighting weakly to fill the room, but it stands no chance against the large wooden planks and thick curtains meant to block it out permanently. 
He blinks away the heaviness, taking stock of his body. There is a crick in his neck and burgeoning cramps in his side and hip from the position he’s still in, and this head still is a pulsing, aching mess — but no more than usual. 
He taps the pads of his fingers to his thumb before flexing his hands. Only then does he stretch the rest of his body and announce his wakefulness. 
Opposite him, at the foot of the bed, Kas is already awake and still in the same position that Steve saw him last. Did he even sleep? Does he need that? Or has he just been staring at Steve, watching him, ready to carry him to the bathroom again for round two. 
The thought of that makes his skin crawl.
“Hi,” he says to fill the silence that is all too inviting for his spiralling mind.
Kas grunts, but it sounds more like a hum. Sort of gentle around the edges. He doesn’t move, doesn’t seem at all fazed that they’re just kind of staring at each other. Steve swallows, not really sure how to go from here.
He fists the blanket and rubs the linen bedding between his fingers, feels the rough fabric catching on the callouses along his hands as uncomfortable seconds tick by. Still Kas doesn’t move. 
“Listen, man,” Steve says at last, thinking back to yesterday’s events and the vampire’s sudden care. “Thanks, alright? What you did, that was, uh. That was nice. You didn’t have to do any of that.” 
Another hum, and it occurs to Steve that Kas is back in his normal state, retreated back into his mind, hiding from the world himself now that it no longer needs him. It’s a strange thought, that Steve being hurt would be what brings him back. If at all. Maybe he’s reading it all wrong. Maybe it as just a coincidence, or maybe Kas tasted something in his blood that made him want to improve Steve’s physical state for selfish purposes. That’s probably more likely.
But it makes him feel even more wrong-footed than before, and it leaves him hyper-aware of the situation. Of their dynamic. Indifference and annoyance and… He doesn’t want it to change, doesn’t want some kind of debt between himself and Kas — especially not when Kas has no means to really settle it. But he also can’t feign some kind of gratitude when what he feels the most is mortification and embarrassment; and he sure as hell doesn’t want Kas to know that either. 
So he throws back the blanket and gets out of the bed, a little dizzy at first, but he doesn’t care as he slips into his shoes and hurries out of the room. 
He just wants to leave. Get out of here and go home, go back to bed and get over the mortification of having been seen like this. Of having been taken care of. By someone who doesn’t even like him. By someone who hissed and snapped at him one moment and then carried him to the bathroom the next. 
“It looks like there’s nothing human left in him, but we do have data that suggest otherwise.” Owens’s words echo through his mind as he crosses the living room. “It seems to be in hiding, the Munson part of him; that’s our hope at least. That you can get him back out one day, make him win over the vampire part. It could be like a self defence mechanism, I guess. We hope he can still be coaxed back into the land of the living. How, though, we don’t know.”
Was this what happened? Has Steve’s weakness triggered the human part of Kas’s tortured brain to take over? No, that can’t be. 
It seems unreal. Unlikely. Wayne telling him stories or Dustin talking about their campaign, that should have helped. Even Mike playing the guitar, or Robin rambling about something or other; all of that was much more close to who Munson was. Or used to be. Eddie Munson never struck Steve as someone who took care of people naturally. Someone who stepped in. He stepped up, sure, but only ever for the wrong reasons. 
It makes no sense. So it must be wrong; just Steve’s exhausted brain grasping at straws. It usually does that, anyway. Nobody knows if Eddie is even still in there. Part of Steve hopes he’s not. 
Just as he reaches for the front door, ready to just get out of here and pretend like nothing happened, he feels a presence behind him. Kas followed him out of the bedroom, standing in the doorway now with an unreadable expression. It's the blank one he usually takes on, but where before it was normal, it throws Steve off now. Maybe because he saw how Kas can look at him. How expressive his eyes can get.
He holds them, the red shimmer a little dimmer out here in the brighter living room. 
And maybe it's the blankness in those eyes, or the lack of judgment in Kas's every action, but whatever it is, it makes Steve let go of the door and turn to face Kas properly. 
"Why'd you do it?"
The vampire inclines his head. Listening. Always listening. Steve doesn't know how he never noticed that. It seemed so primitive before. Like how a dog will react to its owner speaking, but never process the words. Kas processes, though. So Steve keeps going.
"Why'd you... You kept saying that word. Safe. Do you, uh. Do you know what it means?" 
Slowly, his eyes growing a little less blank, Kas nods. 
Steve looks around the cabin, swallowing thickly, still feeling so out of place in here, still feeling the need to run and leave it far behind. But something makes him stay. Makes him want to understand. 
"You wanted me to feel safe?" Again, Kas nods. "Why?" 
There is hesitation there, and Steve wonders if it's because he doesn't want to tell him, if he doesn't know the answer, or if he doesn't know how to answer. It's a loaded question, maybe. 
"Pain," he says at last, his voice barely discernible from a growl, but somehow Steve seems attuned to it now. Maybe because he listens now. Because he wants to know. To understand. 
He waits, watching as Kas struggles for more words once more. Just like last night. 
"Know... Know... pain. Know.” He taps his temple with a clawed hand, and Steve's heart falls, his chest aching with realisation. 
Right. He would. He would know pain like that. If what the doc says is right, if what Vecna taunted them with is right, if every working theory the kids have is right, then… yeah. Kas would know. He’s know something about pain. More than any of them. Pain so intense it splits you apart from yourself. 
"Shit," Steve whispers more to himself than to the room, crossing his arms in front of his chest to hug himself and keep from digging deeper, keep his heart from falling further, and keep the horror at bay. 
He doesn't want to imagine the kind of torture Kas went through. Is still going through, if what the doctors say has even more truth to it. If Munson is still in there, still suffering because human minds have a way of holding on to pain — Steve knows soemthing about that, too. 
"I'm sorry," he offers. It's all he can offer. In the end, it’s all that’s left.
And still it's so lame. It's not enough. 
But Kas just nods again, a pained shadow of a smile appearing on his face. Something transpires between them in that moment, Steve can feel it, but he can't really define it. Maybe some kind of understanding. Some kind of safety. 
"I gotta..." he starts, motioning to the door behind him. "I gotta go. Will you be fine? Did you have enough, y'know, to drink?" 
Another nod, and the smile widens a little. Looks a little less pained this time. 
"Good," Steve says, stuffing his hands into his pockets, lifting his shoulders to his ears, trying and failing to seem casual in the face of those glowing eyes. "I’ll– I'll see you around, yeah?" 
And then he's out the door, his head spinning and aching, his steps heavy with the weight of whatever has changed between him and Kas in the past twenty-four hours. 
... sooo. part 3 anyone?
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steveshairychest · 1 year
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Eddie gets Steve for the party's secret santa and instead of just going out and buying him a present, Eddie spends the whole month making something personal for him, something to remind Steve that he is absolutely adored by the people around him. He's seen the way Steve dismisses any and all comments from the kids about how awesome he is, he's seen the way Steve curls in on himself whenever he's complimented or praised and it hurts to see.
No matter what they say, Steve doesn't seem to get it through his thick skull that he is the party's centre of gravity. Everyone, including Eddie, finds themselves pulled in by Steve's overwhelming love and care. He is their sun. He drops anything and everything the second he's needed by anyone but if they offer the same to him, he shies away from it, brushes it off and says he can handle it. Eddie can't remember a time where Steve actually willingly accepted his help; he usually has to forcefully grab a grocery bag from Steve to stop him from trying to take them all inside himself.
So, for his present, Eddie decides to make him a book, a book filled with everything the party loves about him and everything they appreciate him doing. It's a big book of love and all that love is for Steve. Some of the kids fill pages and pages of things they love and appreciate about Steve, Dustin draws a whole coloured comic that spreads over 5 pages and some of them just fill one page but that's okay. Eddie and Robin write enough to fill the whole book; they actually have to add more pages to the book because there's no room for anyone else to write after Robin goes full sap mode.
Nancy writes one page but forbids anyone else to read it, says it's only for Steve to see and they respect that. They leave the page next to her's blank so that no one sees it. Eddie's only mildly surprised when Jonathan asks to write in the book. He doesn't write a lot but from his sneaky glances, Eddie can tell Jonathan is extremely grateful for everything Steve's done for the kids.
When it comes time to actually give the gift to Steve, Eddie is extremely nervous. He's scared he's overstepped, that it's going to make Steve uncomfortable. Maybe he should have just gotten him that cute sweater or made him a mixtape.
Eddie opens his gift, it's a custom hellfire guitar pick and new strings; stuff he'd only talked about around Robin. He smiles knowingly at her but she acts the fool, pretends she has no idea who his secret santa was but her giant smile gives her away.
And then Steve is reaching for his present and Eddie feels like he's going to pass out. Everyone's smiling and shoving each other excitedly as Steve tears the wrapping paper off but all Eddie can do is nervously look between the present and Steve, watching for the slightest hint that it's too much, that Steve doesn't like it.
The room is so silent, the only sound is pages turning and Eddie's almost panicked breathing as Steve reads through every single page without looking at anyone in the room. He can't get a read on him, can't figure out if he loves it or hates it and then Steve's crying, his chest heaving as he gently closes the book and covers his face with his hands, tries to hide himself away from everyone. Oh, God he made Steve cry on Christmas. He feels like absolute shit.
"Steve, I'm sorry -" He doesn't get to finish because Steve pulls him into a hug so tight he can barely breathe. He feels Steve's tears soak through his shirt as he cries into Eddie's chest and Eddie can do nothing but hold him and try to read Robin's lips as she tries to communicate something to him from across the room. "Spoiler alert, I was your secret santa, but I can't tell if you hate or like your present. Just tell me straight up, I don't mind." Eddie whispers into his hair as he gently rocks them side to side. The book he made for Steve sits discarded beside them and from this angle, Eddie can see that Steve dog tagged a few of the pages. He'd been too focused on watching Steve's reaction to notice him do it.
Steve sniffs and pulls back, his eyes red and puffy. "I loved it." He moves away from Eddie and sits back in his original spot so that he can see all his friends, see all the people that filled a book with words he never thought he deserved to hear. "I really loved it. Thank you. I especially love the comic where I fight 40 demodogs even though I'm pretty sure it was only like 4." He says this while smiling at Dustin, who puffs his chest out with pride and boasts about being Steve's favourite part of the book.
"I think I wrote a whole novel in there." Robin says while scooting closer to Steve so that she can rest her head on her best friend's shoulder. "Did you even read all of it?"
Steve rests his head against hers and points to the dog tagged page in the book. "I've saved it for later. I didn't want to get snot and tears all over the page."
"Ew, you're disgusting." She shoves at him playfully but Steve catches her arm and pulls her into a hug, a hug that they both relax into, a hug that says a million things no one but them will understand.
Eddie feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he knows the present wasn't one big mistake. He doesn't know if Steve read the pages he wrote, doesn't know if Steve will feel the same, doesn't know if confessing his feelings in a secret santa present was the right way to go but he can't bring himself to regret it. Seeing the way Steve pulls all of his friends into a hug and whispers something to all of them, something only meant for that person to hear, brings a warmth to his chest.
He hopes that Steve understands now. He hopes that having all of their love for him in physical form helps him realise that he is more than just a babysitter, more than a human shield, more than a bad ex boyfriend.
And to Eddie, he's more than a friend. He poured his entire heart into that book and he hopes that Steve will handle the pages carefully and that when he's ready, he'll answer the question Eddie wrote on the last page of the book.
'Will you let me love you?'
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flor4de4amor · 18 days
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thinking about how when aviator!abby gets home from base she asks you to unbraid her hair and play with it
Aviator!abby brainrot
so i got a bit ahead of myself writing for this... n changed the prompt a little to washing avi!abby's hair cause i love her + my love language is acts of service.
just a reminder for everyone reading, these aviator!abby writings are the last of the au as i'm clearing out drafts plz enjoy!
click for palestine | boycott tlou | read b4 engaging w me
warnings: casual nudity, abby's an annoying freak - per the usual.
abby’s hair is a tousled mess. she most likely undid her braid in the privacy of your shared garage, once parked after her long work day. her face is tense and you can see her body is rigid. it’s been a long day for her. she’s pressing your face with wet kisses, slaughtering your face with appreciation in the front doorway. “hi baby,” you mumble into her neck.
“hello,” she whispers back to you. exhaustion is evident in her voice. you know exactly what she needs.
running your fingers through her messy hair she groans, “want me to wash your hair up?” you offer while twirling your fingers around her soft wavy ends, a result of her tight braid.
“mm,” she groans back appreciatively, which you take for a yes. 
“you’re lucky i speak your secret little language of grunts,” you tell her softly. she pinches your backside in retaliation. you groan and laugh all at once. “be nice to me or else i’m not gonna run your bath,” you threaten without meaning. 
“sorry,” she mutters into your neck. her weight is heavy on top of your body as she clings to your flesh. her hands come underneath your sleep shirt, running up and down your spine. her way of apologizing silently. you separate, and abby sprawls out on the couch while you run the bath for her.
she sneaks up on you silently. while you’re bent over, vunerably, sticking your index finger in the running water, checking how hot it is. she snaps her hips into yours while your knees are dug into the bathroom tile. she pretends to fuck you mercilessly, and soft giggles escape her mouth.
you gasp at her actions, “abigail!” you laugh. “here i am rushing to take care of you, and you molest me.” you tease. your neck craning to look back at her.  
her face is red with excitement and a smile prominent on her lips. she shrugs her shoulders, “couldn’t help myself, your ass is so cute,” her hand reaches down to pinch your left cheek, as your underwear peeks out from underneath your sleep shirt.  you jump upright, laughing at her actions. 
“you’re agitating me,” you sigh though your smile is peering through your lips. you turn around to face her, a playful glare rest on your face. all a facade, it’s near impossible to stay mad with abby.
“sorry,” she mutters again, her hands touching the back of your neck. her thumb rubbing slow circles on the base of your skull with care. you know she’s not really sorry.
“all these sorry, sorry, sorries, full of shit.” you sigh as her warm hands comfort your neck. “just take your clothes off and get in the bath babe,” you command gently.
“kinky,” she mutters with a sly smile.
“abigail,” you roll your eyes at her, taking your time to unbutton her uniform top, as she stalls. her hands reach to undo her khakis, the checkered print of her boy shorts poking through the undone zipper. 
“mrs. anderson,” she replies with that stupid voice of hers. she’s down to her sports bra, which she quickly discards, and her boy shorts, which she’s more than happy to rip off. her toned body on display alongside her messy hair, you can’t help but take a minute to admire her and her confidence.
“into the bath please,” you command of her once more. she slides in, with ease.
“you’re so bossy today.” you smile and scoff. her legs soak in the water and her lean back is pressed against the cold ceramic of the tub, facing you. her blonde waves covering her shoulder blades.
“you complain too much, remember who’s gonna take care of you when you get old.” you remark, and grab the shower cup from the edge of the tub. 
“can’t help myself babe,” she muses with her eyes closed in relaxation.
 you fill the cup up with the running faucet water, “pass me the shampoo abby,” you tell her while sitting the cup next to you. you sit on top of a step stool, matching your squatting heigh to abby’s sitting height, which still carries a few inches over you. she opens her eyes and hands you the mint scented shampoo. you crack open the plastic container, squirt some into your hands, and place the soap unto your wife’s scalp. she sighs at the cooling sensation, but moans in satisfaction once you begin scrubbing her scalp. your nails scratching away any impurities that lay on her pretty little head, suds building on top of her blonde hair. you rinse the soap out with the plastic cup besides you, brushing her long locks when finished. “pass me the conditioner now, yeah?”
she obliges, passing the container. “thank you, love.” she turns head around, kissing you softly.
“well someone’s gotta take care of you yeah?” you smile against her lips.
“and i’m glad it’s you,” she kisses you once more.
you lather the conditioner in her long hair, sloppily braiding it so it gets out of her way. “rise off, yeah?” you urge her, knowing that she likes to shower without help.
you groan getting up from the stool, watching as she lifts the lever, turning the shower on, wincing slightly as the hot water hits her chest. you sit on the lidded toilet, observing while she scrubs herself with pine soap. she always smells like a christmas tree. she nods at you once finished, “come rinse my hair out please?” she practically begs. 
“you’re just a spoiled little princess,” you smile at her freckled face and blue eyes. but you oblige, getting up anyway. 
“you’ve made me this way,” abby replies and sits back down once more. you scoff and use the cup to wash the conditioner off her hair. brushing out the soft lather with your fingers delicately. once you’ve finished up, your wife steps out the shower, and you wrap a towel around her. water dripping from her hairline to her forehead. “you gonna braid my hair for work tomorrow?” abby asks, throwing in some puppy dog eyes. 
you sigh, “i can’t say no when you ask like that.”
abby pumps her fist in victory, “love you so much baby.” she kisses your cheeks relentlessly. 
“shut up anderson, you’re getting me all wet,” she almost cuts you off to make a dirty joke before you click your tongue at her, silencing her quickly. “go get dressed so i can pamper you some more.”
“sure thing baby.” she paddles out the bathroom and rushes into your bedroom, eager for more of your caring touch.
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Ghost x Reader
NSFW, 18+, Shameless Smut, No Plot, Porn w/out Plot, Sex in the dark, Explicit, Graphic Language, Teasing, Touch-Starved Touching, Embarassing, First Time Together, Fingering, Sloppy Kisses, Somewhat Rough Sex, slightly Intimate, Ghost is a bit of a dom, Reader's a bit snarky, Slightly Proof Read, I'll fix what I miss later :)
First time writing a smut one-shot with zero plot sooooo here's my trial run. I'm a recovering former Catholic schoolgirl, bear with me. Enjoy. (。ˇ ⊖ˇ)♡
Word Count: 2.4k
Also I take requests, or I would like to, or I might just poll who I should write next. ヾ(´▽`;)ゝ My other one-shot Soap | Price
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You step into a dark bedroom, reaching over to flip on the light switch. That's when you feel Ghost's cold, gloved hand stop you halfway. Your hand, which is small in comparison to his own, can't help but be encompassed by his sudden grasp.
The door shuts behind you both, you and Ghost now standing in a nearly pitch-black bedroom. Alone.
"The lights stay off," Ghost orders.
The gravelly-like sound of his voice is deep in this empty room, soothing through your ears and sending a chill down your spine. You can just make out the large silhouette of his body, towering over you like a great, big shadow. Ready to devour you and leave you used.
And you wanted him to use you. To fill you with all he has to give. You've lusted for his touch since you first laid eyes on him. You longed to feel his strong grasp around your throat, his teeth against your skin, his cock buried deep in you. You always wondered what a man who brandishes a skull mask of all things would desire of you.
Your own hand could only suffice for so many nights. It was time for the real thing.
And you knew Ghost had wanted it too. He had wanted you bad. Not being able to have you until now only fueled his growing insatiable craving for you. His skin practically simmers from the rising arousal.
"No lights at all?" You pout.
"What's the matter?" The teasing tone to his voice lowers, as does his hand, as you feel his fingers trail up your arm. It leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, before he's let it rest at the side of your jaw, taking a soft hold of your face. "You afraid of the dark?"
You feel his deep, olive eyes look you up and down hungrily through the darkness. Exploring every inch of your body. He could picture all the curves to you, his hands hardly able to keep away from reaching out. Envisioning your body shaking by the end of this, the anticipation having his blood rushing just thinking about it.
His thumb lightly trails over your lip, the glove of his thumb gently grazing it, faintly tugging. He parts them for himself, your tongue just slightly brushing against him. It makes a whimper leave your lips, as you start to playfully nip at the fabric of his glove with your teeth, coaxing something dark inside him.
"It's just us now, love," Ghost whispers. "I want these walls crumblin' down once I'm through with you."
You lift both your hands and let them dance delicately over his, your own hands so small it takes the two of them to even hold the entire thing. You tug at the fabric, removing the glove from his skin and revealing his bare knuckles to you. If not for the dark which surrounded them.
Unable to truly see him for youself, you let your touch fill that yearning to look upon him. You let the glove fall to the floor, as your hands take his again, your warmth clashing with the iciness of his own touch.
"Why don't you make that happen then," you taunt him.
You take his index finger and bring it to your lips, letting your tongue slowly swirl around it, as your saliva coats him, your breath making his skin shiver. You gently bob your head forward and suck his finger, taking your time getting it wet for him. Only just faintly being able to make out his mask in the dark.
You hear Ghost let out a heavy breath, before he's got you pressed flush against the door. He uses his large thigh between your legs and his other arm to box you in, his body pressing roughly against you, keeping you pinned against the door.
You were at a point of no return now. If this was what you wanted, then Ghost was prepared to give it to you, as he saw fit.
Ghost brings his free hand down, roughly pulling down the short little skirt you'd had your ass hanging out of all night, until you've felt the fabric hit your ankles below you. The second they hit the floor, Ghost plucks his finger from your lips, deciding to swap for a new pair to play with instead.
His fingers dip beneath your lace panties, letting those fall to your feet next, the chill of his hand making you jolt lightly, as you gasp. That's when he feels how dripping wet you had been this whole time. You coat the man's fingers in a matter of seconds, which he can't help but chuckle at.
"Fuckin' hell," he teases you. "Say less."
"Fuck you," you tease.
Ghost responds by bringing two wet fingers to your clit, massaging smooth circles against it, and sending a jolt of knee-wobbling pleasure through you. He gets the rhythm down damn near instantly, working a magic you should have only known he possessed. You can't help but moan to his touch, your head pressing back against the door as your body chases his fingers.
"You were saying?" Ghost teases you again. Only this time, before you've time to say something else, you feel his fingers make their way towards the entrance of your cunt, ghosting the hole purposefully, letting his hands grow damp with you. It makes the air catch in your throat.
His fingers slowly curve in, the warmth of your walls gripping tightly in retaliation. He pumps them in and out, going just a little deeper, each time they sank back in.
Pretty soon you've felt him go knuckle deep, his palm smacking roughly against your clit at each thrust. Each time left you throbbing with arousal, making you shake. The visceral, wet noises that came from your cunt paled in comparison to the moans you released alongside them.
The sensation was almost so overwhelming that your mind couldn't think straight. Tears welled at the corners of your eyes, as your voice took a mind of its own, letting Ghost know vocally just how much you enjoyed having his fingers roughly play with you like that.
Ghost would never forget these sweet sounds you made for him. They'll live in his mind 'til the day he dies, he's sure. As he'll be forever chasing after them now. Hearing you had been a newfound high
He eventually takes his hands from you, your fluids leaving a web-like trail on its exit out. In that brief moment, having found some composure over yourself, you let your hands raise up, until they've stopped at the edge of Ghost's balaclava.
You pause before attempting to lift it up, letting your fingers rest there, signaling to him what you wanted.
"Can I?" you ask.
Ghost pauses.
One of his hands meets your wrist, though it doesn't attempt to pull you away. Holding you there, instead. Hesitantly even.
Right now, he appeared but a dark figure you could only just make out, hellbent on seeing you at your most vulnerable. Ghost wouldn't let you see him. Not completely. And you would respect that. You could be happy with just the touch of him instead. The taste of him in your mouth could be enough.
Tonight at least.
When you see he won't stop you, you slowly begin to lift up his mask. You feel the fabric glide up the sides of his neck as he holds his breath. You bring it to the bridge of his nose, letting your fingers graze against his cheeks, and tracing the stubble of his defined jawline. Simply trying to feel a picture of him in to your mind.
The whole time, Ghost stands there frozen. Letting you touch him, not having let someone do so in such an intimate matter in quite some time now. Too long of a time. He's forgotten how bare it makes him feel. And yet, he didn't want you to stop.
You mirror his actions from before, letting your thumb brush against his bottom lip. You feel it quiver, and it makes you smile.
"Don't get shy now," you purr.
You flip that switch in him, and like a predator that's just caught its prey, his mouth is on yours, pressing against you so hard that his body nearly smashes you against the door. It releases a gasp out of you, one that Ghost uses to let his tongue take a quick swipe against yours, stealing a taste.
You chase his as it retreats, your lips following him organically. As though your mouths were two puzzle pieces; perfectly fitted for one another.
His kisses quickly turn starved, his tongue exploring every available inch your mouth provided to him, dominating you in every way. Letting you know that from here on out, your mouth belonged to him and him alone. Your lips. Your tongue. Your taste. You.
You belonged to him now.
You nip at his lip suddenly, giggling at the little gasp he lets out afterward. In response, Ghost brings his hands to the hem of your shirt and lifts it over your head, leaving you now bare before him, just as a silhouette in the dark to him as he were to you.
He brings his teeth to the groove between your neck, searing them deep and bringing a light hiss out of you. At the same time, his hands meet your breast, his finger gently rubbing against your nipples, as his palms massaged you gingerly.
His hands feel you as though he planned to sculpt a new woman out of you, and his lips trail down your neck as though they could help him memorize the taste your skin left lingering at every peck.
Your fingers grip at the back of his neck, pulling him in, clawing into what little skin he left bare for you to feel beneath his lifted mask. The sting your nails leave makes him throb almost painfully so.
Ghost pries his lips from you, letting his hands slide roughly down past your ass, before taking hold of your thighs. With one quick movement, he hoists you up, allowing your legs to straddle his waist. He then presses himself against you, grinding hard into you.
The sudden flood of ecstasy it washes over him brings a low, shaky breath out of him. One he wasn't too used to making. He continues grinding against you, keeping your back pressed against the wall and both his large hands gripped firmly beneath your ass, his hands moving you almost like you were his own personal doll.
And you submit.
You submit completely to him, keeping your hands wrapped around his neck, as the grinding of his hardening cock through his uniform re-erupts that lustful flood he'd pulled out of you only minutes ago.
Using the wall to help keep you upright, Ghost brings one of his hands down to the buckle of his pants, undoing them and allowing him to lower his them. Just enough for him to take hold of himself and uncover from his briefs.
It seems he's had enough of the teasing and the foreplay.
"You know we have a bed," you joke.
"I like to work on my feet," Ghost quips back.
You feel the head of his member begin to play at your folds, lightly spreading them apart, and preparing for what felt like would be something slightly larger than what you were used to. It makes the core of your groin quake with anticipation.
Ghost continues to tease himself against you, his breath growing shakier by the second, as precum began to slick between you. His hand on your ass tightens, and he brings himself to the center of your core once more.
You feel his eyes on you.
"Think you can take it?"
You swallow and then nod.
"Give it to me already."
As quickly as the words leave your mouth, Ghost lets himself thrust deeply into you, your walls just barely being able to take in the entire length of him. It sends a sharp sensation up your body, bubbling out into one of the loudest moans you've ever felt yourself let out. You feel it travel all the way up to your throat, making your heart race as though you'd just run a triathlon.
Once he saw you could take him, Ghost pumped deeper into you, pushing further and further in at every thrust, gliding in and out with ease. Soon you've taken him completely, feeling him smack against your cunt hard.
His lips find yours again, not wanting to waste another second away from you, as his fingers dig deep into your skin, forcing you to take all of him, as you willingly let him do what he wants with your body. He clearly knew what it wanted best.
He purposefully pulls back out slowly, allowing you to feel every inch of him leave your pussy, and stopping just before his head can exit. He then comes back in sharply, earning that chilling moan from you every time. He could go all night listening to it.
"That's right, lovey," Ghost pants against your lips. "That's fuckin' beautiful."
Ghost picks up his speed, each pump growing faster. Eventually, the pace had increased so much that you stopped noticing the blood you were drawing at the back of his neck from digging into it so roughly. Just as you didn't notice the forming bruises on your ass from how hard Ghost had been holding you.
All you could feel was him inside you, giving you everything he had to give, and hitting that sweet spot every single time.
"I'm so close!" you gasp out. You slide your hands back over to his face, cradling his cheeks in your palms, letting him know you were looking him in his eyes. Somehow you felt you could see his right now. "Cum with me."
Ghost takes your lips one final time, getting one last good taste of you, as he feels your walls tighten around him, your body vibrating, as you moan into his lips.
The orgasm shakes you so hard that your body moved almost involuntarily. The mixture of warmth and tight compression is enough to finally get it out of him as well, as Ghost cums alongside you, his cock throbbing against the heat of your cunt.
He lets out a breathy moan, his forehead resting against yours, as you both fight to catch your breaths.
As the moments settled, and your heart rates began to rest, you both continued to let faint images of each other dance in your minds, as un-pronounced as when you first walked in.
"Maybe we can have a nightlight on next time," you joke.
Ghost is quiet for a second, still attempting to reassess himself. He clears his throat before speaking again.
"I'm up for that."
♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡
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yourftmfriend · 1 year
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Hear me out: FTM Brahms
Omg fuck yes
--
Oh how beautiful he looked right now. You wanted to engrave this moment in your brain to cherish it forever. Cherish how beautiful with drool and tears running down his face. How adorable his whimpers and moans sound. You leaned in to land a kiss to his drool stained lips. "H-aAh- Please p-lease! I can't c-cuhm anym-OorE! FUCK!" his tear filled eyes rolled back for the nth time that night as you started rubbing his clit furiously. His thighs were quivering when his nails dug into you back making you let out a quiet grunt into his neck. He cried out as you bit into his neck squirting all over your thighs and cock.
But that didn't stop you. You haven't even came once. "Hold on a bit more f-for me darling- I'm g-onna fill you up read good kay?". He let out a desperate whine at your words burying his face into your neck. Your thrusts got faster and faster as the knot in your belly tightened to his sounds. You started rubbing his clit faster than the last time.
"N-oHH! P-lease noO! a-AH fuuuCKK-!" he cried out overstimulated. You kissed him as you got closer to your high. His whole body started trembling as his grip on you tightened. "F-uck cum for me baby... Be a g-good boy 'n cum f'me." you ordered just a few seconds before he came with a cry of your name.
It didn't take long for you to fill him up. Brahms' eyes rolled back to his skull as you filled him up nice and full. You pulled out of him slowly before collapsing next to your beautiful boyfriend. "You wanna clean up now or later?" you whispered to him. He let out a muffled 'later' that you barely heard. You grabbed the blanket next to your bed and covered both of your bodies with it. You hugged him from behind. "I love you" you whispered to his ear as you landed a kiss to his cheek.
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