#but he is NOT broken and his fire and will are far closer to the surface than either Melkor or Manwe realize

[grandlinedreams]

|| welcome fellow Ghoul fuckers ily

|| notes: sequel to [this], got nothin' to really say beyond reader and Cooper make the most fucked up implied pseudo parents for Lucy lmao, Canon somewhat compliant, post s1, gonna have to wait for the prequel meeting dic to know why reader knows Coop's whole name

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, Canon typical gore/violence, something something save a horse ride a cowboy, NSFW ㅡ fingering, edging (i had to take a lap around my house), irradiated cream pie, unprotected sex (supposedly those swimmers are FRIED but I can dream),

The low croak of a crow echoes over the barren stretch of sunbaked, irradiated earth ㅡ and the creature itself lands on the bent, rusted post of a long gone sign. Tilts its head this way and that, blinks liquid black eyes ㅡ three of them. Then squawks indignantly when a bullet narrowly misses it, jet black wings flaring as it takes to the sky to complain in that low, creaking voice.

"Get lost," you tell the bird, glancing at the way Dogmeat tracks the creature. Then she whines, licks at her muzzle like she wants to go catch and eat the damn thing.

"Don't even think about it, pup." You inform her, soothing the disappointment with rough scratches to her head that have her nudging for more before you walk away, sharp whistle summoning her to your side. You don't know why, but she's taken a shine to you over your companions, and you're not about to push her away.

The set up for tonight isn't far off, but it's the skitter of some other creature off in the distance paired with the ominous rumble from above that gets your attention ㅡ and you click your tongue at the foreboding, electric green that rolls in the clouds, cracking with lightning. It isn't nightfall yet, but it's growing closer with that mess on the horizon.

There's a pitiful attempt at a fire being made by Lucy when you return, and she offers a smile that you echo briefly before moving to Cooper's side, nudging him with your boot. "Storm's rollin' in."

He grunts, tugs his hat from where he'd been shading his face ㅡ pretending to sleep to ignore Lucy's still-attempting-to-be-friendly rambles, you suppose. "How far out?"

You shrug, slinging your pack back onto your shoulders. "About an hour, give or take."

Lucy flicks a confused look to both of you as Cooper gets to his feet as well, and her head tilts. "Why're we moving?"

You raise an eyebrow. "You want radiation sickness, vaultie?" It's worth it for the way she bristles, and you snicker. "Come on. There's something of a building not far from here."

You're kind enough to wait for her unlike Cooper, who heads off with Dogmeat while you trail with Lucy.

The building was probably an apartment complex at one point for the squared off, honeycomb like interior, the sections that remain halfway decent.

The presence of scattered, long empty supply packaging ranging from stimpacks to tins of cram says that you aren't the first to be here though, and you split off with Cooper to scout out the place, leaving Lucy with Dogmeat.

You're just as quick with tongue and trigger as Cooper ㅡ Lucy has learned that the hard way over the last week or so. But there's still a softness to you that Lucy likes, gravitates towards ㅡ and figure that Cooper likes it too, for the way she spots him watching you sometimes, pretends not to notice when he looks up and glares at her.

"Clear," you report, pulling her from her thoughts as you toss her a bedroll and a spare blanket. Where you got them, she doesn't know. And the dark stains of what absolutely is most likely blood tells her she doesn't want to know.

What she does know is that she's allowed what constitutes as a room to herself ㅡ three walls and a roof that won't cave in are enough for her to take it without complaint. Dogmeat goes with her, and when she looks up, she knows why with the unspoken way you and Cooper split off for the same little room a couple broken spaces down from hers.

"Get some rest, Lucy," you tell her, offer a small smile that makes her beam as she settles down for the night, deciding that she is far, far better off not thinking about just how close you and Cooper actually are.

"Cute kid," you remark as you finally trail into the room after Cooper, earning an amused scoff.

"Fuckin' annoying is what she is," he grouses, and it's your turn to laugh as you shrug off your pack and kneel, digging for your own bedroll.

"Considering that's what you called me when we first metㅡ"

"No, I called you an annoying bitch."

"Potayto, potahto." You tug the bedroll free and roll it out, blinking as Cooper settles himself over it with a groan and then a sigh. "Excuse me."

He peers up at you. "What now?"

"This is my bed." You snip, jerking a thumb over your shoulder. "Up, Cooper."

"Nah." He folds his arms behind his head. "You like the vaultie so much, go cuddle up with her."

You stare. "Cooper Howard," you say, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous of the kid." He's silent, and you raise an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"No." The words is sharp, and he lifts his head to eye you. "Don't need to be jealous when I know what's mine," he rasps, "now quit bitchin' and c'mere."

You don't know what it says that you do so without fuss, settling yourself to straddle his hips as he sits up, draping your arms over his shoulders.

"There," you snip, adjusting to flick at the rim of his hat. "Better?"

He watches you with eyes as dark as an oil spill, and you don't miss the flick to your mouth and back up. "Gettin' there."

You snort. "You know," you murmur, tone dropping lower, "if you wanted to kiss me, all you gotta do is ask."

He smirks, the flash of his teeth. "Where's the fun in that, sugar? I like the chase. Besides," he lowers his tone, leans in further, "you're the one bitchin' when we can share this sad excuse for a bed. And the way I see it, you're gettin' the better deal anyways."

You roll your eyes, act like you're annoyed ㅡ but the way you don't tell him to shove it or get off of him speaks volumes enough.

Poetically, it starts raining just as you kiss him. The fingertip drum of it on the roof, sour-sweet smell of it that still reaches you because this isn't a real bedroom, just some shitty excuse for it. Doesn't matter, because this is far better than the kisses you've stolen over the last few days when you're absolutely certain Lucy isn't watching either of you.

Cooper seems to think so too for the way he deepens the kiss, cups your face as he nips at your lower lip and licks into your mouth when they part.

He squeezes at your hips, snakes his fingers back under your shirt, pinches and tugs and maps until you're squirming in his lap as he shoves your shirt off completely. He pulls, coaxes you into an arch that lets him mouth at your ribs, nip and sow sparks of pleasure in your veins as he leaves little patches of bruised pink skin in his wake.

He likes marking you, he realizes, the subtle claim without him having to say it. Mine.

He welcomes the grind of your hips against his, your body soft in all the ways that his isn't, filling in the cracks and rounding out all his sharp edges until he can't think of anything but getting his hands on you properly.

The pop of the button on your jeans is easy, the slip of his hand deliberate ㅡ you're louder this time, covered by the storm above as you whine and moan and buck into his hand and the sinful, clever work of his fingers.

And then just as you're about to crest that wave of pleasure, he stops. Smirks at the way you glare, taps your nose with his other hand. "You know you don't get nothin' for free around here, sugar."

He's teasing though, pushes you back to work his belt open, pants down ㅡ then dragging you back over him. Groans, tips his head back at the teasing glide of you before he's adjusting to line himself up and guiding you down.

The gasp he gets is music to his ears, nearly lost to the gutteral, hissed noise he makes himself at the tight, warm squeeze of you around his length. His eyes roll, and he bucks his hips up.

"C'mon sweet thing," he rasps, "don't make me do all the work. Ride for me."

The rhythm is stilted for the way he grips your hips anyways, reluctant to let you pull off of him too much ㅡ but it still feels good. Your breath matches the staccato movement, hands splayed on his chest for balance and head thrown back, looking for all the world like some sort of dedication to a long gone diety that he'd gladly worship to the end.

And he does still, reverence to the way he touches, kisses, bites ㅡ throbbing vitality in your veins calling to him, sweet siren song wrapped in those plush lips of yours. Soft skin squeezed under his fingers, forgiving for all the ways he can't be gentle, desperate as he is.

It's the throttled clamp of your warmth that says you're coming undone, gooey and wet and warm in all the right ways that has him clutching at you, cursing as his hips jerk and he fills you, mouthing at your pulse point as he does.

Heavy breathing sets the undertone of the roll of thunder outside crumbling walls, rapid beat of two hearts, and there's something dangerously soft, romantic in the way he lets you melt into him.

You drape over him, whisper soft kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his mouth until he kisses you back, slowly, selfishly, dangerously sweet.

"You," he tells you, "are absolutely no good for me." He slings an arm over your waist, softens the bite until it's nonexistent.

After all, what's one more vice?

ㅡ

In the morning, the four of you leave ㅡ there's a lot of ground to cover, after all. Lucy walks beside you, Dogmeat and Cooper just a few feet ahead.

"So," she begins conversationally, "what're those marks on your neck from?"

To your credit, you neither flinch nor blush, busy yourself with fussing with something at your hip. "Mosquitos."

Lucy hums. "That's funny, didn't realize mosquitos got so big. Best be careful then, huh?"

#ㅡmine. #fallout x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader

[bluefeathercas]

The Way He Feels | Buddie Fic

• Buck accidentally opened the fire truck door into Eddie's face and now he's standing between Eddie's legs as he sits atop the bathroom counter, trying to fix the mess he made while Eddie makes a mess of his feelings •

[ Part 1/2 ]

Eddie winced as the cloth Buck was holding dabbed at the broken skin below his right eye. The cut, red and raw, was the result of a collision with a fire truck door - Buck swears he didn’t see Eddie walking past and Eddie swears it was his own fault and not Buck’s. But still, Buck felt obliged to fix it.

The cloth was damp with antiseptic and at the sound of Eddie wincing, Buck drew his hand back in concern.

“Sorry,” he said softly, “I’m almost done.”

Eddie shook his head, “It’s okay Buck, I just appreciate you cleaning me up.”

Buck smiled, “Of course. I mean I did open the fire truck door right into your face.”

Eddie laughed, reaching for Buck’s hand and placing it back on his cheek. Buck was standing in between Eddie’s legs, as Eddie sat on the bathroom counter, his back against the wall.

“I wasn’t watching where I was going, don’t worry about it.” Eddie reassured his best-friend, knowing Buck would be beating himself up about the whole ordeal for at least the next two weeks.

Buck tilted his head, “It doesn’t need stitches, which is a good thing because I’m not good with needles..”

Buck moved closer to Eddie, positioning himself between the fire-fighters dangling legs, their hips almost aligning. Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly aware of where Buck was standing and how close they were to each other. Buck kept dabbing away and Eddie found himself looking at Buck’s face, really looking. His birthmark, his lips, the furrow in his brow as he concentrated, his lashes, his lips again and Eddie could have moaned out loud in frustration.

The truth was, Eddie wanted Buck. He’d wanted him ever since his first shift, when Buck stayed with him to disarm that grenade and then every day after that. He wanted him now, he could’ve taken him against this bathroom counter if he wasn't horrendously in the closet and his best-friend wasn’t hopelessly unaware of the way Eddie felt towards him.

But it wasn’t just lust - Eddie had discovered, a long time ago now - it was also love. Unrequited, he was sure of it, but love nonetheless. He had tried to hide it and so far, he’d done a pretty good job. But between the long glances and subtle touches, he’d thought at one point that maybe Buck felt the same way. Eddie shook that idea away however and it wasn’t as if he’d ever have the courage to ask anyway.

Read the rest on AO3.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fanfic #buddie fanfic

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru x darling

TW: NSFW, noncon, fantasy au

gn reader

Thinking about hunter Gojo and the pretty little nymph that gets themselves snared in one of his traps.

You can’t get your poor leg loose, having twisted your ankle in your fall to the ground – something’s wrong with your wing too, you can feel it – the thin network’s been folded, almost broken – so even if you did manage getting loose, you wouldn’t be able to fly away.

Branches snap around you along the crunch of old leaves – and your heart’s beating out of your chest in fear of it – knowing something large and dangerous is not far behind, that whoever set the trap is not something that wishes you well.

“You’re not a rabbit.” The man says, having crept in close before you’d even heard him approach – crouching in front of you with a hunter's grace. Hawk-eyes ice-blue and piercing, hair as white as pure snow.

He’s got three daggers sleaved in his belt – a fillet knife, a gutting knife, and a larger one you imagine is meant to slice throats. He doesn’t carry a sword like most men but has a bow and sack of arrows slung on his back. Otherwise, dressed lightly – brown leather boots, brown slacks, and a blue cotton shirt. You could have mistaken him for a woodland elf if it weren’t for the thick stench of man.

“Eating creatures from the holy forest is forbidden.” You snip, despite your wide eyes and the wobble of fear evident on your lip.

He only smiles at the quip, a grin like a predator humored by prey. “You wouldn’t tell a wolf not to hunt.”

He stalks you, leaning in closer, and you try shuffling away – but the movement only makes you wince.

“I’m just another hungry animal…”

Rope gnaws into your fine skin while his breath puffs hot and dewy on your face.

“And tonight… seems lady luck has favored me once again.”

He gags you and ties you further up before redoing his snare for the next unlucky creature – then carries you over his shoulder until he’s dropping you down on a bed of furs.

Your skin flushes with goosebumps at the thought of being skinned the same way – mouthing a little prayer around the cloth he’s split your teeth and lips with. He’s cut trees down as well; you hear their pitiful screams when he lights a fire with their bodies. You mourn them, too.

At his full height, the man must be two heads taller than any male nymph you’ve ever seen and at least three heads taller than you. You hope you’re enough to satisfy him tonight, to spare the forest of further bloodshed.

You shiver and sniffle when he starts prepping you – removing your clothes and groping your tender, fleshy places with a strength you’re not used to – hands large and crass – kneading you like dough – probably to assess the quality of your meat. He has a smile on his face while at it. 

Humans make you sick – to think he’s planning on roasting then eating you despite the soul fueling your spirit and the beating heart in your chest. But you’ve long known that all death but their own matters little to them – they don’t feel the same way nymphs do – they don’t regard life with the same respect they’ve donned themselves. It must be a sad and lonely existence, you think. It even makes you feel a little sorry for him.

You yelp when his gritty fingers brush the area between your legs – shimmying when he lowers his mouth down to the same place. Oh God – does he plan on eating you raw? While your body’s still hot and pumping blood?

But the bite never comes – not yet eating but tasting it would seem – licking and slurping and sucking on you.

He takes his shirt off. Probably to avoid spilling on it, you think.

You don’t really understand what’s going on until he’s got his fat manhood pointed toward your kernel-sized hole. Eyes wide as he splits you apart slowly and unabashedly – as though it isn't as deviant as a dog mating a cat – sinking in inch after meaty inch.

You whimper at the stretch – wincing when the plush mushroom-shaped head grinds against that special place inside you. 

It doesn’t fit more than halfway, but that doesn’t seem to bother him – rolling his head back with a rusty groan, even with just the tip gaining purchase within you – pounding into you like a beast in his rut.

“What's the matter, pretty nymph? Did you think I was gonna eat you?” He laughs, bearing over you – his hands steadying your hips to meet his sharp thrust – each hit deeper than the last. “I’m the only hunter in this forest; I can eat what I want when I want – but eating you?” He scoffed and snickered. “That would just be a waste.”

The blood on his breath makes you wrinkle your nose – squeezing your eyes shut as his tongue sweeps up the tear streaks on your cheek.

“My stomach’s already full. Time to empty my balls.”

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen headcanons #gojo headcanons

[pellucid-constellations]

Reversal

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: When protecting your mate brings out a side you swore to keep hidden, you have to deal with the consequences.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: Violence, injury, angst, some self-deprecation

a/n: This is loosely based off of this request <3 thank you for sending it!! I hope you enjoy and I also love comments!! ♡

Masterlist ♡

~~

In the heat of battle, there was kindness. 

That was a ludicrous sentiment, and Azriel had reminded you of that many times, but it was something you believed in. 

War was hot flames and blood and the clashing of metal, but it was also reassurance and soft hands and wisps of healing light. If war was cruel and it stole, you were kind and you gave. 

The first war had been a teacher, guiding you to your role. The second war had been reinforcement, showing you what it meant to be the Night Court’s healer. And then you thought you were done—done with attempting the impossible. 

But then Beron took a stance that no one could foresee, and you were not done. 

With the soldiers of Autumn Court came an impenetrable heat, and it was your job to quell the scars that plagued Rhysand’s frontlines. You were the one set to heal the broken and save the damned, and you were the one set to protect the court with kindness. 

It was awful work. 

Azriel was always quick to agree. 

Your mate hated these wars more than you did, and that was an almost impossible feat. Azriel was never close to you in the throes of battle. There was always a cluster of shadows on your trail, but he could never be there himself. You knew it ate away at him, distracting him when he was supposed to be zeroed in on the enemies. 

But, you had reminded him as he held you close in the tent the night before, you hadn’t died yet, and maybe you’d never die from a war. Maybe you weren’t destined to. 

He had only pulled you closer at that, pressed his lips to your head as his wings hid you from the camp that made far too much noise. He held you so tightly you felt his pulse on the skin of your cheek and you pretended you were back at home. 

Because although you were the kindness within the war, you wanted to go home. 

Gods, did you want to go home. 

Flames raced along the outskirts of the blue shield that had enveloped you the moment your knees hit the ground beside the unconscious Illyrian soldier. They pushed and pried, trying to force their way past your mate’s protection as you trained your attention on the wound marring the soldier’s skin. 

Azriel would protect you. 

He always did, even when he couldn’t be beside you. 

“I’m… going to die,” the male beneath your hands huffed out, a line of sweat at his brow. 

“No,” you assured. “No, you’re going to be okay. I just need a few more moments.” 

You couldn’t see what was making him so assuredly pessimistic—couldn’t see the way the flames were creating cracks in the shimmering blue light. They were covering every inch of the shield, making the air in the circle red with heat and promised death. 

You noticed a moment too late. 

It was unbearable, the suffocating fire. You threw your body over the soldier as if that would make a difference, arms and shoulders wrapping over his head as your leathers scorched and your lungs burned. The male screamed, his legs thrashing. You wanted to replicate the sound, but you were kindness. Kindness did not scream. 

It ended as abruptly as it began, flames dissipating into blackened embers. You felt a crack in the bond during the disappearance, Azriel’s fear and rage embedding itself into the golden thread connecting you. That, too, ended as abruptly as it began; Azriel shut his side down, saving you from the ravaging emotions. 

You whipped around to search for him, eyes up towards the sky. You found him quickly, with a practiced eye. You’d looked for him in every room you’d entered for almost your entire life. It was easy to find Azriel. As easy as breathing. 

That breath was stolen from you the moment your gaze locked on his form.

He was falling. 

He had charged—alone—into the group that was to blame for your injuries, for the flames that had almost consumed you, and now he was falling. 

He was falling and he wasn’t conscious. 

You think you screamed, but that couldn’t be right. Screaming led to panicked patients, and panicked patients led to worse outcomes. Your screams were not welcomed in war. 

You tugged at the bond, desperate to rouse him into saving himself. But it was no use; he was plummeting to the ground and there was nothing you could do. 

When you looked back on it later—when it fizzled as dim memories within your dreams—your actions would become more clear. You’d remember that you stood up, and then the ground shook. That the years of training required to be a field healer included so much more than twisting bursts of soothing light. 

And something within you had awoken that day, the moment you saw wakefulness leave Azriel’s being… something that was not kindness or giving or calm. 

It was rage. 

A piece of you recognized that Azriel had been caught. Cassian’s wings had most likely ached from the speed with which he dove to catch his brother, but both members of your family were safe. Harmed, but safe. Not dead.  

Your rage didn’t care. 

Something deep within you snapped, and light was pouring from the tips of your fingers. It wasn’t the same hue that healed. It was darker; a hungry red. 

The enemies from the sky fell. 

When those on the ground saw the damage you had inflicted, you became their target. And fine, let them, because this power coursing through you had no sense of who was to blame for your mate’s injuries. To you, everyone was a threat. Everyone was to blame. 

With a practiced grace, tainted by years of disuse, you attacked. The scene was cloaked in a red hue. Fae after fae charged at you, but it was all fruitless. You felt pain, injuries covering your skin, but it was all muted by the overwhelming desire to end this. To somehow soothe the ache you felt from watching your mate fall.

Time became obsolete. 

Morals became blurred. 

You were a machine, a complete reversal from the position you had assumed all those years ago.  

“Y/n!” 

Through the fog, a scream.

“Y/n, stop!” 

Another far away call. 

“It’s done. It’s over. Stop. Look at me and stop.” 

Something was pressing against your cheeks. It was firm and grounding and the focus returned to your gaze. 

“That’s it. Look at me, y/n.” 

Cassian. When all was righted, Cassian stood in front of you, his posture hunched as he leaned down to catch your eyes. He was dirty and his leathers were torn, but all you could focus on was the panicked frenzy marring his face. 

When he spoke next, the words were no longer accompanied by the incessant buzzing that had invaded your ears. “You with me, sweetheart?” 

Your lips felt numb. 

“Give me a nod or something. Az will kill me if you go catatonic on us.” 

“I’m okay,” you whispered, voice rough. “Azriel, he—” 

“He’s here.” Cassian turned your head in his hands, showing you the shadowsinger propped up against a dirt bank. “That self-sacrificing idiot is fine.” 

He wasn't fine, not really. His breaths were labored and his hand clutched at his side with a shaky grip. You wanted to move towards him, to try and take away some of his pain, but your legs were stuck. Everything was stuck and you couldn't move. 

It didn’t matter, anyway. When your eyes trailed up from his body, the look on his face would have deterred you from even speaking to him. He looked… horrified. Hazy eyes blinked across the battlefield—the one you decimated—and they shut just as fast. They squeezed shut, clamping down so tightly it looked like it hurt. Azriel seemed to shiver at the carnage. 

When your chest heaved at the realization, your body seemed to shut down. You felt your legs give out first, heard the curse shot out by Cassian, and felt the hands pressing to your back as your mind gave way to unconsciousness. 

~~

When you woke, the heaviness in your body was not entirely physical. 

There were, of course, a few broken bones. You could feel the aches and pains from battle and knew that you hadn’t gotten away unscathed, but that was all manageable. Fae healing was fast-acting and you would be fine within a few days. 

But it wasn’t the physical pain keeping you from opening your eyes.

It was the reminder of Azriel’s face. 

The disgust written into his features. 

You were supposed to be his antithesis.

When Azriel came home at the end of a day, he was supposed to be comforted by your warmth and softness. You were kindness and light and graceful silence. You were a healer, granting life, and he was an angel of death. 

Before you had met him, that had not been the truth. You were a healer, yes, but you were a field healer. The continent you hailed from prided themselves in being both the saviors of life and the bringers of death. You were to be the judgment—deciding who received which fate. 

But then you met Azriel, and with him came balance. With him came the need to be only one part of you. 

So you hid away the side of you meant to be cruel. You trained softly in self-defense only and you shied away from the instinct to protect with fists and power. 

And you loved the way he looked at you because of it. 

You loved the soft eyes and silent laughs; the tender way he held you and the sweet way he brushed his lips to your innocent skin. He coveted you, protected you, and you were the one he sought comfort in. 

You were his mate, his equal, his mirror. 

You wished your eyes could remain shut forever. 

“Will she wake up soon?”

Mor, you could deduce. 

“The healers said there was no way to know. She… Gods, Mor, you should have seen her out there. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Cassian. 

“I wish I had been there. It sounds like she kicked some ass,” Mor smugly replied. 

Cassian huffed out a laugh. “That’s an understatement.” A pause. “It was more than just that though. It was like she was using her healing in a different way. She cleared the field in front of her. There’s no way that just… came out of her.” 

“You know what the mating bond does to people. What it can unleash.” 

“I get that. But it looked natural for her. It looked practiced.” 

You heard Mor sigh. A hand brushed against the top of yours, taking it into a soft grip. 

“I just hope she's alright,” Mor murmured. 

“She has to be.” 

~~

When you awoke next, it was alone. You had been fighting sleep for what you assumed to be the better part of a day and decided that was enough. Eventually, you had to face the consequences of your actions.

You swung your feet over the side of the cot, feeling surprisingly rested and well despite the few pains shooting along your limbs. You took hesitant steps towards the mouth of the tent, propping open the canvas billowing in the wind before taking a more confident step onto dirt and rocks. 

“Good, you’re up.” It was Rhysand who spotted you first. “Just in time for our debrief.” 

The casualness with which he spoke left you disoriented. The High Lord only blinked at you, a small, impassive smile on his face as he waited for you to take the arm he had outstretched. Your mouth parted as if to speak, but nothing was coming out. 

“I know you’re recovering, y/n, but I need my best at this meeting,” he encouraged, elbow jutting towards you. “Come. We’ll speak and then we’ll return to Velaris. We will go home.” 

Your reservations were odd when you compared them to the understanding on Rhys’s face. He wasn’t upset or disgusted or angry; the High Lord’s smile turned up at the corner of his mouth and his expression spoke of sympathy, as if he already knew about the turmoil raging within you. 

“Azriel—” 

“Is there already. Unhappy, but there.” 

Unhappy. 

Of course. 

Who would want a mate that ravaged battlefields? 

Your lip quivered, but you bit it to stop the emotion from showing. “Right,” you nodded, and you let Rhys guide you to the large tent in the middle of the camp. 

It was full; you had to push your way in to meet the rest of your court. Azriel was the only one seated amongst them, and you could tell by the twitch of his wings that he had been placed in that chair begrudgingly. 

Your eyes skated across his for a fleeting moment. You were quick to turn away, focusing on the material of Rhys’s jacket as he stopped in the corner of the tent. 

There was a faint tug on the bond, muted by the wall you had erected. You thought about letting it down, but you were scared of what you’d feel. Azriel was a good male; good enough to attempt to hide the revulsion he was feeling. 

But you’d be able to parse it out the second you dropped your mental shield. 

You kept your eyes forward as the high lords spoke around the tent. The large table in the center was covered in maps and wooden pegs and you flowed in and out of focus as treaties and strategies and plans all mingled in the space. 

Another tug at the bond. 

Another shield placed around your mind. 

“And what of her?” 

Rhys took a step in front of you, covering half of your body from view. “What of her?” he countered, a calmness in his tone as he replied to the High Lord of Spring. 

Tamlin raised a brow. “Are we just supposed to ignore that your ‘healer’ is a danger to all of our courts?” 

“You are a fool,” Feyre spat out, hands splayed on the table. 

“She is a weapon,” Tamlin seethed, finger jutting out towards you. 

You flinched, and the room exploded in shadows. 

You heard several gasps, a few weapons being unsheathed, but over everything was the low rumble of Azriel’s voice. 

“Don’t speak of her as if she is an object,” he threatened. “Don’t speak of my mate at all.” 

“Reign in your dog,” Tamlin spat, but that only spurred on the hostility in the room. 

A chair screeched back, crashing against wood as loud, reverberating footsteps echoed in the otherwise silent tent. No one made a sound. Some of the shadows gave way, retreating to wind around your body, and you were met with the scene across the table. 

“I will show you a weapon, High Lord,” Azriel promised, chest-to-chest with Tamlin. 

The sight made you sick. 

Azriel was a protector. You were used to that truth. But before, things were different. Before, he was protecting you while you were still pure, still innocent in his eyes. 

Now, it was after. After you had killed and killed for him. After he had hurtled to the ground and awoken to find the death his mate had caused. And he was still protecting you, defending you, despite it all. 

Were you really worth this? 

You were worth it before. 

Now, you weren’t so sure. 

On shaking legs, you shouldered your way out of the tent, breath caught in your lungs. The ringing from the battlefield returned to your ears, blocking out the conversations starting in your absence. The shadows stayed with you, twirling with alarm and flowing through your hair in an attempt to gain your attention. 

A weapon. That explained you well—the ability to save lives and take them away. If they all considered you a weapon, where would you go? By Tamlin’s logic, being locked away would be best. 

Maybe that was best. 

You wondered what Azriel would think was best—where his weapon of a mate belonged. Because it was certainly no longer in the calmness of the home you shared. 

Your shaking continued as you brought your hand up to your forehead. Azriel did that sometimes, when you were panicked or anxious or scared. He’d place his scarred touch on your forehead and lean your head up to grant you more air. He’d follow with his lips and then pull you into his arms, but you knew none of that was coming. 

So you leaned forward and felt the sobs creeping up your chest to take the place of air. Your knees fell to the dirt and you collapsed into the feeling of your family, love, life changing forever. 

Until the shadows retreated. 

You glanced up when their swishing stopped and found another pair of knees pressing to yours in the dirt. The leathers covering them were fresher than yours, cleaner, but they were also wrapped in bandages and stabilizers that matched the ones along their ribs and stomach. 

Another crane of your neck and Azriel was leaning down to catch your gaze, mouth parted. Maybe he’d been speaking for a while; the buzzing made it impossible to know. 

“Are you alright, my love?” he asked, low and so, so concerned. Much more concerned than you deserved. Much more gentle than he had spoken in the tent. 

And all you could think to say was, “I’m sorry,” and you sobbed out the words with gut-wrenching sincerity. 

“I’m sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry. I never meant—I never wanted this—“

Azriel shushed you, his fingers working to guide your hair away from your face. You felt selfish for needing that from him as his body was bandaged and his wings were wrapped. 

“I’m sorry I’m not who you thought I was. That I’m a monster. You were just falling so fast and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn't stop it,” you gasped out, giving in to your instincts as you grappled at the material of Azriel’s shirt. “I wanted to protect you and there was nothing I could do. You’re supposed to feel safe with me and I’ve ruined everything.” 

With each word came more tears and more heaving breaths. Azriel held you through each of them, his hands firm at your elbows, his head shaking as you laid everything before him. Occasionally, your name fell from his lips in a soft whisper, but he never interrupted you. 

“I’m not supposed to be this person to you. I’m supposed to be all of the good parts, and now I’m—now I’m someone else and you can’t—you’re not going to love all of the parts and—”

“Look at me, angel,” Azriel softly interrupted, sliding his fingers along your hairline, his eyes searching every inch of your face. When your gaze snapped to his, a bittersweet smile graced his pretty features. “There she is.” 

A hysterical laugh left you, your emotions mingling with his as the bond flowed freely between you. You didn’t have the energy or willpower to block him out anymore. A rush of relief was sent through you as Azriel realized the opening. 

“You are not a monster.” Azriel’s whisper was so clear, so close. “And I love every part of you, y/n. Especially the part I saw on that field. You saved me—protected our court and family. How could I not love that?” 

“I saw your face,” you whispered back, the words brushing Azriel’s lips as your foreheads met. “You looked—”

“I looked disappointed in myself.” 

“In yourself?” 

Azriel brought both hands to your cheeks. “I lead you to that carnage. Y/n, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to take that load for you… to shoulder that burden.” 

“You aren’t… disgusted by me?” 

“My love, I love you more. What you did for me… you’re so strong. Cassian told me how amazing you were. Why have you never told me?” 

You shifted back on your knees, blinking under Azriel’s adoring, forgiving gaze. The shadowsinger didn’t let you get far, however, sliding his hands down your jaw, your shoulders, and settling on the tops of your thighs. 

Touching you, it seemed, was imperative. 

“When we were mated,” you began, tears still lingering in your throat. “I was new to Prythian—new to having a family. Everyone kept telling me that we were equals in opposite. They said I was a blessing from the cauldron to be so different from you but so in love. And then you… you called me things like peace and safety and calm. I saw the work you did and I knew I couldn’t tell you what I was trained for. Being a healer was enough.” 

The hands on your thighs tense. Azriel’s shadows pooled beneath you, swirling like a puddle of darkness. 

“I never meant for you to hide,” he murmured. 

“Azriel—”

“Never, angel. You could burn down the world and you’d still be my peace. You could be a weapon and I’d find my safety in you.” 

He sighed out a disbelieving laugh. 

“I love you,” he affirmed, eyes so sure. “I love you when you heal the broken and I love you when you decimate battlefields.” A small smirk. “I wish I had known about the second half a little sooner. I might not have teased you about your book choices as often.” 

You scoffed, a watery smile finally lighting up your face. “Don’t start.” 

“Should I tell you all the other times I should have been wary? Or maybe all of the reasons Cassian should be afraid now? It seems that’s the only way to get you to smile, and seeing as you are the reason we won the war, you should be doing far more of it.” 

The bond shone within you, bursting with joy as a laugh escaped your lips—a real laugh. The sound was soon smothered by Azriel’s kiss, and you knew things were changing. 

And that was okay. 

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel angst

[ichangedmycornyahhname]

Earth 42!Miles x reader

Summary: Reader grows suspicious of Miles, and eventually puts all the clues together. He’s the prowler. And she’s avoiding him. Ignoring his texts, calls, anything else. So finally, he confronts her.

Warnings: None really? Cursing, some kissing here and there, pretty fluffy. Nothing too bad (though if I make a part two I can’t say the same.) Not proofread at all- part.2 here

The text simply read, “Really Y/N?”

Her brows raised, confusion finding her expression at her boyfriends text. For the past few months Miles has been very suspicious. Leaving with his uncle to go gods knows where in this broken down city. “What is he talking about..?” She muttered to herself as she stared at the grey bubble. Her thumbs hovered over the screen as thoughts jumbled together in her mind. Did he know? Did he know that she found out?

She shut the phone off, setting it down on the balcony’s thin railing. Her eyes fell upon the dim city, the neon purple and green colliding together in a fierce blend of colors. She always reminisced about how the city was before crime took over. It was normal, you were able to walk the streets without being snatched or robbed. Maybe even killed depending how far into the city you go. A sigh aired from her lips, her head hanging down as she leaned against the railing. Her arms kept her propped up, allowing her to take a step back so that she had room to rest her head onto her forearms. “So you just gonna leave me on seen mami?” She jolted, her head shooting up and taking a peek over her shoulder. Behind her on the fire escape was miles, his relaxed demeanor coming as no surprise. His bulky coat, jeans, and Nike airs drawing a small smile to her face.

“Sorry Miles..got a bit distracted. Thinking.” She chuckled under her breath, attempting to break the ice. Miles approached, now leaning against the railing beside her with a hardly noticeable smirk. “So, you’re just gonna pretend you don’t know? Y/N.” His gaze hardened, his eyes now boring into the side of her head. This caused her to close her eyes, a sharp inhale coming from her. “That’s all I can do, ain’t it?” She paused, taking a moment before turning around, now propping her elbows onto the railing. She rested her back against the rusted metal, her shoulders relaxing as her eyes met his. “Miles, I know you’re doing what you think is right..I’m not gonna tell you off or anything. I just- fuck I wish you just told me. You buy me all these things, and earn all this money, and I knew..I knew it wasn’t from anything good. But you being the..” Her voice caught in her throat, her lips pursing together into a thin line as she struggled to speak the name. Miles took notice of this almost immediately. His smirk was gone, now flat teetering on the edge of a frown. His pretty hazel eyes raked up and down her figure before returning to her gaze. He held it, his stare unnerving. “Being the what ma?” He inquired, his brows furrowing ever so slightly. This ticked her off, his attempt to bluff, or change the topic. Or whatever the hell he wanted to call it. She scoffed, her hands raised in defense as she stood from the comfort of the railing. “Are you being serious Miles? You’re just gonna pretend like I don’t know what im talking about? I saw the suit. And you’re always leaving with your uncle to wherever the hell y’all go. Fuck- if you’re just gonna sit here and glare at me then go somewhere.”

“Y/N, chill.” He said. No, commanded, and Y/N did not like that. “The fuck you mean chill? Miles, how are we gonna be in a relationship and you’re just gonna lie to me the entire time? Psh, you can have this back.” She reached behind her neck, pulling the necklace with their initials off and tossing it at him. He caught it almost instinctively, the silver necklace now resting in his palm. He sighed, his hand coming up to rest on his braids. “Cmon mami, don’t be like this. I was only trying to protect you. Don’t you get that man?” He stepped closer, his hand coming to take a hold of hers. He laced his fingers with hers, his pretty eyes focusing in on her. “Why would I tell you something that could get you killed? escúcheme mami.” He let go of her hand, now holding the necklace up and wrapping it around her neck. “I would never want to hurt you, you know this. I didn’t want to tell you that for that reason.” He clipped the necklace together, the shiny metal now resting around her neck. “You know I wouldn’t want you to get hurt, right ma?” She blinked, her stomach swirling with that familiar feeling. Butterflies, this man always gave her butterflies. “Right..I’m sorry I just..-“ He cut in, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. “You’re talking too much ma.” He says before placing a pleasant kiss onto her lips. It’s gentle, patient, and forgiving. It almost has her knees buckling. Her arms wrap around his neck, his hand now finding sanction on her hips. Their lips lingered for a moment, the silence being broken by the honking and chattering of the crime ridden city. And while the city was a complete hell, Miles made everything so worth it. And it was the same for him. Her and his mother kept him going. Slowly they parted, though their noses were now nuzzling against one another as they rested in one another’s arms. “M’proud of you baby..you work so hard for us.” She muttered, which only drew a hum from him.

The two were so immersed in one another that they hadn’t taken notice of Aaron standing at the bottom of the fire escape. His lips curved into a smirk as he watched the two coddle one another. “Yo Miles, Cmon man. You can see your girl later. We got stuff to do.” He shouted up to them, drawing the two from their entanglement. Miles retreated from her arms, a small smile decorating his purple tinted face, the city lights making him look oh so good. “I’ll see you later ma, Ight? And go check on my mom for me yeah? Thanks.” He said as he began to climb down the stairwell. “Te amo mami.” He shouted from the distance. “Love you too baby!” She shouted back gleefully while waving him and Aaron goodbye. And just as you thought he was about to leave, Miles popped back up, strolling over and placing his hand under her chin.

He grasped it lightly, his lips finding hers once more. Yet, this kiss was much more intense. He bit and nipped at her lips, all whilst he watched her face contort, melting into his kiss. The kiss lingered, as did his lips as he pulled away. His pretty hazel eyes took in her flushed out face, his lips curling into a smirk. “Imma send you some money later mami, so you can get your nails done in that color I like. Kay?” He said before finally, he departed. He hopped back down and joined Aaron.

Y/N stood there, her face hot and her body even hotter as she pondered on his words. She knew exactly what he wanted. With one last sigh she retreated back into the open window behind her, her dimly lit bedroom greeting her. Tonight she would go to sleep with a clear conscience, no longer needing to worry about Miles and his secret escapades.

#x reader #Spider-Man #spider man across the spider verse #miles morales #miles morales prowler #prowler #earth 42 #fluff #Miles morales x reader #earth 42 Miles morales x reader

[rubysunnday]

to leave you behind

a/n: let's not talk about how long its been or the fact this is likely (maybe) the last time i'll write for s&b...

summary: reader takes jurda parem instead of nina and kaz is losing it

To Y/N, they'd all accepted their imminent deaths far too easily. They'd done the impossible, they'd broken into the Ice Court. They were not about to die in a tank, a few hundred metres from the Ferolind and freedom.

She glanced over at Kaz. They'd hardly spoken since he'd fainted in the prison wagon. He'd been avoiding her gaze whenever they'd been together and barely acknowledging her existence.

Y/N was growing tired of it. She loved him, she'd come to accept that truth whilst wafting through the crowds at the Ice Court. Perhaps, deep down, hidden and suppressed, he loved her too.

But she had been waiting for too long. Her heart was aching and her mind was tired of the not knowing, of the constant hatred and love all at once.

Y/N looked from Kaz to the rest of their group. She loved them all in different ways. She trusted them all and knew that she'd gladly die for them all.

Which made the next decision that bit easier.

She turned to Kuwei. He noticed her gaze and looked back at her. Y/N didn't speak. The boys eyes widened.

"You don't understand -"

"I understand, Kuwei," Y/N said softly.

Kuwei reached into his pocket and pulled out the little leather pouch that had begun this whole heist.

"Y/N, what are you -" Kaz trailed off as his eyes fell upon the pouch, its rim stained with a rust-coloured powder.

"You're all out of tricks, Kaz," Y/N said, taking the pouch from Kuwei. She shrugged, a sad smile on her face. "What else is there?"

"No, Y/N, don't be ridiculous," Inej warned.

"Personally I think this is my greatest idea yet," Y/N replied, trying to hide her shaking hands. "Besides, not everyone gets addicted after the first dose."

"You can't risk it, Y/N!" Inej exclaimed.

"No, Y/N, she's right, it's not worth it," Nina said. "I'll do it."

"No," Matthias said, shaking his head furiously.

Y/N laughed tiredly. "I have no one to fight for me, Nina," she said softly, trying not to look at Kaz. "You do."

The voice echoed out from amongst the Fjerdan ranks, counting down, getting ever closer to the end. Y/N took a deep breath in. She mentally counted to three and then turned to look at Kaz.

She was aware of everyone else around them trying not to look. Y/N shifted her weight from right to left, bringing herself closer to Kaz. Their elbow brushed.

Y/N raised her hand and gently placed it against Kaz's cheek. She let her thumb trail over his cheekbone. He flinched, his eyes closing tightly. Y/N swallowed the disappointment.

"I expect ten percent of your cut for this, Kaz," she whispered.

Before anyone could realise what was happening, before Kaz could ground himself back into reality, Y/N tipped the parem into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow it in one stodgy swallow.

Instantly, her blood began to thrum, power surging through it, the fire making it grow hotter. She could hear her heartbeat, pounding away over and over and over again. Her cheeks were burning, sweat was running down the back of her neck.

Her fire was screaming to be released. All it needed was one spark.

No.

It didn't need any spark.

Y/N could feel it at her fingertips. It throbbed.

Her gaze moved across the Fjerdan soldiers. She could feel the gunpowder waiting to be lit. She could hear the pistols being loaded and cocked. She could feel the flicker of the flames dancing off the torches they held.

She tilted her head to the left. She focused her gaze on a bomb filled with gun powder.

Her fingers snapped. The fire shot across the space between them and hit the fuse, burning it up in seconds.

The bomb exploded.

Orange light lit up her face, she could feel the heat burning her skin. It was thrilling.

Everything was burning around her and Y/N could still feel fire burning through her veins, desperate to be released into the night.

Y/N took a deep breath in, letting the cold air burning her nose as she did so. As she exhaled, fire flowed from her fingers, lighting up the sky as it soared across and over the soldiers, sending them all scattering to the sides and into the water.

"Drive," Y/N said softly, looking ahead, staring at the fire as it burnt its way along the ground.

Kaz looked at her, a hint of fear in his eyes.

In the middle of the True Sea, there was no fire. Y/N's desire to burn the whole world to the ground had faded to a dull ache. Instead, it'd been replaced be a reluctant sense of acceptance for what was to come.

She was sat on the main deck of the boat, her legs dangling over the edge. It was quiet out here. Everyone seemed to be avoiding her and, when they did run into her, giving her pitiful looks.

Y/N sighed, tilting her head back, letting the ocean spray hit her skin.

"I'm presuming you can't just burn it out your system."

She didn't even react. "No. I'll be burning myself from the inside out."

Kaz stepped forward and pivoted on his heel so he had his back to the railing. He leant backwards, holding his cane loosely in his hand.

"I won't take anymore," Y/N said quietly.

"I wasn't going to mention it," Kaz replied.

"Then why are you here?" Y/N asked, turning her head so that she was looking at him.

Kaz didn't speak. He didn't acknowledge that Y/N had spoken for a while. Eventually, he looked down at her.

"I wanted to talk before it begun."

Y/N nodded, turning back to look at the water churning as they passed. "I fear you're too late."

Kaz glanced down. Her hand rested on the railings, shaking even as it sat there.

As the sun rose, the aches set in. Everything hurt, from her jaw to her toes. All Y/N could do was lie there, shaking, trying not to cry. Inej sat with her for a few hours, her cold fingers combing through her hair, massaging the back of her neck.

Nina, they had decided, was going to be a last resort. If she absolutely had to, she would lower Y/N's heartbeat enough that she went into a coma, allowing her body to work through the drug without causing her too much pain.

Every candle on the ship had been extinguished. Y/N could feel them burning even if they were the other end of the ship from her.

A few hours later, her skin began to burn. She lay on the bed, wearing the thinnest shirt she could find, unable to tolerate anything else touching her. All the blankets had been thrown to the side and her shirt was soaked in sweat. Y/N kept her eyes shut, trying to fall asleep, trying to pretend that what was happening to her wasn't happening.

When the tremors began, Matthias was sat beside her. In her delirous state she'd vaguely realised that they were all taking turns to sit with her, to watch her.

They're waiting for you to die.

"Do you need me to get Nina?" Matthias asked, gently dabbing her sweat covered forehead with a wet cloth.

Y/N shook her head. "No... not, not yet."

"Do you -"

"No," Y/N said, clutching her hands into fists. "No, I can't fall down into it, I can't Matthias, I can't."

"Okay, okay," Matthias whispered, dipping the cloth back into the water and then placing it back on her forehead.

Y/N didn't remember Matthias leaving. One minute he was next to her, the next he was gone and -

"Kaz?" Y/N whispered, turning her head to look at him.

"Y/N."

He'd undressed to just his shirt sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. He still had his gloves on and his cane was resting against the wall next to him. But he was there.

"Why... what -"

"We're taking turns," Kaz said, his voice hoarse and quiet. "It was mine."

Y/N smiled but, as she did so, the aches overwhelmed her. Her bones felt like they might burst through her skin and her head was pounding, being squeezed through a vice. Her skin was burning, her face was on fire.

She groaned, arching her back as she tried to escape the pain, to free her sweat covered back from the mattress.

A cold hand landed on her arm, pushing her back onto the bed. Y/N groaned, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her heart was pounding, she could hear it.

"Kaz, I can't - can't do this, I can't -"

"Don't give up," Kaz said, leaning forward. His hands were bare, holding her arm down and combing through her hair. "Don't, promise me."

"I can't, Kaz, I can't," Y/N sobbed. "Please, please just -"

"No, don't you dare," Kaz replied, his voice firm. "You're not dying on my watch, Y/N."

Y/N cried, her back arching again, her nails digging into her palm.

The door opened. Kaz looked over, watching as Nina quietly walked in.

"I could hear her heartbeat getting faster," Nina replied, shutting the door behind her. "I wanted to check..."

Kaz looked back at Y/N. He turned to Nina. "Please, Zenik," he said quietly. "Just do it."

Nina stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed. She took her wrist and pressed her fingers to her pulse point.

"Kaz," Y/N said, whimpering. "Kaz?"

"I'm here," he said, leaning forward. "I'm here."

"Stay till the end," she whispered, her tremors slowing down, her eyes growing unfocused.

"Y/N -"

"Promise me."

"I promise you," Kaz whispered, hand stroking her hair back from her face. He watched her eyes close as Nina gradually slowed her heart down. Y/N's eyes closed and her grip on Kaz's hand weakened, her body going limp as Nina put her body into a coma.

Kaz held tight to Y/N's hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Y/N."

#six of crows x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows imagine #six of crows imagines #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #angst #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker imagines #kaz brekker angst

[elfven-blog]

C’mon Bunny

Summary: Leon’s sick of your Brattiness

RE6!Leon x F!Reader 

CW: MDNI, 18+, PinV, Brat!Reader, breeding, Daddy, Leon calls reader bunny, spanking, implied age gap. If I have missed anything, please let me know.

Word count: 1.1K

“You want to say that again, sweetheart? Want to try that again?” You bit a grin back, your veins burning with mischief at his words. You did, so so badly you wanted to repeat what you said. But the swing and sting of his hand made your mind stutter in its path. Almost going blank, but it didn’t stop you, you’d never be able to help yourself.

See it’s the way he reacts that gets the rise out of you, the subtle shift of warmth and affection to a more assertiveness. Ready to deal with you how he sees fit, sure sometimes you deem it unfair, but that’s what you get he reminds you. For being such a brat.

Not that he’d have it any other way, why would he? Not when he loves how far you try to push, it always ends the same way. With you begging for him, his fingers, his tongue, his cock.  Another heavy smack rang out as your body shot forwards, burying into the covers below you as you whined “What’s wrong? Suddenly can’t speak? Come on, bunny, didn’t you say I didn’t affect you?”

Your head turned to look at him over your shoulder, his words only serving to fuel the fire in you and drive you to get more of this reaction out of him. “You can’t, old man. It’s not you that’s causing the reaction, it’s just how I enjoy what you’re doing” now that was just a lie and you knew it, of course it was Leon that was causing you to drip down your thighs. If anyone else had tried to do this they wouldn’t get the same reaction, sure they’d get the red marks but there wouldn’t be a dark spot on the sheets between your thighs.

“Oh, is that right, pretty girl. Then why don’t I get one of those men flirting with you at the party in here, see if they can make that cunt cry” His voice took on a dangerously low tone, his hands kneading at the area he had marked red on your ass, and you felt the slap of his thick head against your clit and struggle to mask the moan. Not that it works as he watches your reaction and the way you leak more slick onto his cock “Or maybe, I’ll use this soaking wet pussy like this and just leave you wanting”.

As Leon spoke he moved his hips so that his cock rutted between your lips, causing you to whine at the sensation and the way he threatened to not give in and fuck you. You saw the way his lips turned up as he bent over you, chest pressing to your back as his arms caged you in all the while his hips move in slow languid movements. Until you buck your hips back, and his mouth presses to your shoulder “Not what you want? Think my bunny deserves to have this old man’s cock, huh? I dunno, you were rather mean”.

Your bottom lip trembles as your press closer to him which causes him to pull away, your hand clutching at his forearms “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry” tumbled from your lips. Leon presses a few kisses to your skin, one of his hands moving down your body slowly before dipping between your legs and circling at your clit “Please, daddy, ‘m sorry” his tongue darted out between his lips, how easy you were to break when you weren’t given what you wanted.

As your distracted by the feeling of his fingers, his cock pushes at your clenching hole, moans leaving the both of you as he finally slides into the wet warmth of your cunt. “Oh fuck, bunny, always so tight and wet for me” your hand slides from his forearm to tangle with his hand, his grip tightening against your own as his hips bully his dick into you and his finger continues its circling motion on your throbbing clit.

“Still not forgiven though, been such a brat to daddy for no reason,” A broken whine leaves your throat as he sets a punishing pace, not letting you get used to the stretch from his size as his hips snap against yours. His hot breath on your neck turns into pants as he continues, your thighs shaking from how you’ve been positioned and the feeling of his cock bullying in and out of you is almost too much as it pushes you over the edge. Your pussy clenches onto him as you gush around his cock and soak both of your thighs. His low groan resounds in your ear as he pushes closer until your collapsing to the bed but he’s still not letting up, your legs kicking out from the stimulation.

“Gonna be a good girl now? Yea? Just for me, gonna be good and stay like this while I use you how I want?” His hand moves from your clit to push your knee up, spreading you for him as he looks down to watch how your cunt swallows him “Still now satisfied is she? Bet she wants me to breed her” His words send hot sparks down your body, a loud moan muffled by the sheets below you as your hole pulses around him.

He moves his arm around your knee, pushing you to double in half below him with your free leg twitching as your hand grips tighter at his “Fuck bunny, you really want that? Gonna let daddy breed this pretty little pussy as much as he wants,” you can feel how his cock jerk inside you as he presses against the cervix and he’s going so hard that you can feel the swing of his balls against your clit. “Maybe then you’ll keep yourself in check, won’t be able to run your mouth if daddy’s got you dumb on his cock”.

The idea seems to drive him over the edge as he bites into your should, your eyes closed as you angle your hips to give him a better angle and you’re pulsing around him again before he’s pushing impossibly close while he holds you to him. “Fuck she’s trying to keep me in, you want it too bunny? Want daddy to keep you here like this as he fucks load after load into you?” All he gets in response is a whine before spurts of thick hot rope fill you, and you’re reaching a second peak while he fucks his cum into you “That’s a good girl, cum on daddy’s cock again” and those words have you rocking back against him, his load leaking out around his cock from the force of your own orgasm and the amount of him inside you.

He pulls out, and you both hiss at the feeling. His hand moves to let your leg free as he smooths at your thighs and presses sweet gentle kisses to the expanse of your back.

#Leon Kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leonkennedysmut #resident evil 6 #RE6!Leon #RE6!Leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil 6 x reader

[dollwrites]

ᴀɴɢᴇʟs ᴏғ sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ᴜʀᴏɢɪ & ᴋᴀʀᴀᴋᴜ

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!hashira!reader, noncon, breeding kink, descriptions of blood and injuries, instant loss / bad end trope, dvp, the boys are meanies, choking, degradation, lots of cum, brief oral sex ( m! ), fingering, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 ∣ @serenesaku [ thank you so much, i hope you like it! ]

“If you drop her, our fun’s over before it even starts!” you can faintly hear Karaku harping, and your head rolls around on your neck— it feels like jelly, hardly able to support the weight of your head as it droops backwards to look up at the demon who has you in his grasp. his talons are wrapped so tightly around one of your wrists that you can see a trickle of ruby, feel it as it runs down the length of your forearm. the blood mingles with the dirt and scuff that clings to your skin as you hang there, suspended in the air by merely his claw’s grip on your arm. “Give her to me already!”

all of the muscles in your arm were on fire, sore and aching, and you felt as though the pull of your weight on the one limb had knocked it out of socket. that wasn’t the worst of your injuries, however, but most of the pain from the battle had numbed at this point, anyways.

you don’t even remember where your sword had clattered, broken and useless. wherever was, it was well out of your reach as the demon flies you higher and higher, as if planning to perch you atop the moon itself.

it had been quite the game to him already, flying you higher, and then loosening his grip to let you slip just far enough to gasp and fear the plummet, before he gripped your arm again. at this point, you were praying to whatever god could allow this to happen that they would simply kill you already and get it over with. being toyed with would’ve been scary enough, but you were Hashira, and you were supposed to win this fight. not become a demon’s marionette under the moonlight.

Urogi glances down, smirking with putrid delight as he sees the dulled, defeat-snuffed gaze as you take in your position. “Wishing I would really drop you, demon slayer?” he was mocking you, spitting the words as if they were soaked in acid. “Let you die this easily?” a low cackle bubbles up from his throat, amber eyes burning. “Not a chance.” the violent flap of his wigs send blades of cold wind through your hair and ruffles your torn uniform, you could swear the sheer force of it nicks your cheek as he swoops downward, diving towards the ground. “We’re not done playing yet!” the speed makes your head spin, but you’ve not enough energy to squirm or try to stop the impending collision, so you close your eyes, brows furrowed, and brace for impact.

it comes, but not in the way you expect. with a flick of his talons, Urogi flings you from his grasp and into Karaku’s, who laughs wickedly at the way you smack against his chest like a sack of potatoes, and then try your best to grasp his shoulders. you wanted to regain some semblance of control over yourself, find your footing, but he wasn’t having it. both fists grasp your wrists and pull them back. your knees buckle with a gasp of pain, and you’re once again supported only by a demon’s will, and his hold on your arms. you dangle there, clenching your weak fists. “‘M… going to…”

Karaku’s emerald gems light up, “You’re going to what? Kill me?” you didn’t have to nod, but you do so weakly, and he leans close. only inches from your lips, his fiery breath washes over you. you shy away from a demon for the first time in your life, letting out a soft whimper, “You’re not going to do anything, girl, but let me tell you what we’re going to do to you.”

as Karaku speaks, his lips moving and grazing your cheek the closer he gets, you feel the ground shake beneath you when Urogi lands behind you, talons cracking rocks beneath his powerful feet.

“We’re going to rip this demon killing uniform off,” Urogi’s claws work diligently to make good on his counterpart’s promise, shredding the fabric of your top, down through your pants until the black garments fall away in defeated, little strips. Karaku croons yo you, in amusement, “it’s not like it’s useful, anymore. Your demon killing days are over.” you let out a grunt of discomfort, feeling the drag of his talons against your stomach, biting at your vulnerable flesh. “But your demon serving days? Well, those have just begun.”

“— And we’ll defile your defenseless, human body.” Karaku flashes insanely sharp teeth in a daunting grin as Urogi finishes his threat, his talons grasping your thighs to hoist them up. your feet, that were dragging against the ground prior to this not sweep from the ground, and dangle helplessly as he spreads your legs. completely exposed to the one thing you were meant to hate in this world, the thing you’ve trained your whole life to kill, you felt disgusting and shameful, and your thighs twitched and fought against his strength to close. “Until it all but gives out.”

Karaku takes one look at your cunt as it’s presented to him, and a low gurgle of lust rumbles in his throat, dropping your hands to, instead, jab two fingers inside abruptly. you cry out and immediately grapple at his arm with one hand, trying to pull his hand out, while the other grabs for his horn and forehead, pushing with all your might, squirming and writhing, but you’re trapped. “Stop—!!” but Karaku’s guffawing drowns out your weak demand. his fingers are thick and rough as they pump into your unprepared core, though the rough treatment coaxes your arousal to life, encouraging you to soak his knuckles as he scissors them inside you. pressing his calloused fingertips against your inner walls, he can feel them spasm and tighten.

“Tighter than I expected,” his voice is a low, raspy growl as his fingers work relentlessly inside you, pummeling over delicate nerves. you can’t help but pant and groan, but you try to steel your glare, and push him off. “Your little Hashira buddies haven’t fucked you out yet?” his digits spread, testing the elasticity of your insides, and you moan, haplessly. “All those muscles and no brains. They promote a useless, little piece of fuck meat and don’t even take advantage?”

Urogi giggles from behind you, his lips close to your ear as he hisses. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that.”

Karaku, using his free hand to retrieve his cock, wraps his fist around the girth and pumps it to life at the same velocity with which he finger fucks you, and his fangs peek out against his bottom lip as he bites down on it, moaning low and guttural. “I broke her down, so I want to fuck her first.”

Urogi had been taunting you, kissing at the shell of your ear, whispering threats and excitedly watching you jerk and squirm to get away from him, but when Karaku says this, he pauses. you can feel the air behind a powerful grit of his teeth, as if Karaku’s claim annoyed him. “We broke her together—“

“Shut up,” Karaku waved off his counter’s nagging, grasping his ready cock at the base and guiding between your thighs. replacing his fingers with his cock was a sudden switch, and a size difference your body wasn’t prepared for. “I’m already in.” your eyes widen, your nails scraping at his horns and his face as he forced his way inside you. your walls spasmed and fluttered around the intruder, clamping down, instead of trying to push him out, and your back arches. the movement was intended to bring you a moment of reprieve, and shove him out of you, but the curve of your body only gives him the room he needs to slide hilt deep.

“F—fuck!” you exclaim; you can’t help it. the force behind his nesting is almost too much to bear, and you grind your teeth, glaring up at him weakly, with your thighs trembling. Urogi’s claws dig into them, blood beading to the surface as you struggle. “Y—you despicable, vile… uh!!” you were just about to make your stand, demand he pull out of you or else you would find a way to kill him with your bare hands, but his hips rocked suddenly. back and forth, falling into a rough and hungry pace that had you scrambling for breath, your feet flopping in the air. “Y-you can’t…!!”

Karaku howls with pleasure, both of his hands now wrapping around your throat, instead, a wild and primal look in his wide eyes. his lips are etched into a permanent, open mouthed smile as he fucks you with reckless abandon, cackling and crowing as he does so. “Aha! It’s been such a long time since I’ve had tight, warm human cunt!” his thumbs press against your windpipe, teasing it closed until you’re clawing at his wrists, gurgling pleas to breathe. it was hard to focus on anything but the lack of oxygen, and yet the sound of your squelching and the smack of his balls against you pounded in both of your ears. “It’s good,” his tongue flicks at his teeth, his breaths coming out in ragged breaths, “the more I choke you, the tighter your cunt squeezes me!”

Urogi was smiling again, his eyes flickering down to the join of your bodies to watch Karaku’s cock slide in and out at a rapid pace. if he zeroed in, he could see your entrance clench down on him, as if to keep him anchored within you, and he chortles low, nipping at your earlobe. “It almost seems like she likes it, listen to how wet she is. Choke her harder, I want to see her cheeks turn purple.”

you shake your head, fervent, “D-don’t!!”

you didn’t want them to hear how your body betrayed you, how it spat and sputtered, grateful to be decimated with demon cock, but even that scream sounded less reluctant. your sounds were changing, twisting from protest to pleasure, and you couldn’t stop it. the tighter the demon gripped your throat, the more pleasure you derived from being taken against your will. the wetter you got.

Karaku’s brows knit together, focusing all of his energy into pounding deep, as he hissed through clamped teeth, “Cumming for you, little demon killer. Going to fill up that belly!”

you didn’t have time to process what his threat had been, because a few, forceful thrusts against your limit, his tip battering your insides, and he erupts with a wail, giving your neck one final, right squeeze that you thought for sure would crush your trachea. it doesn’t, somehow, and when his grip loosens, you choke on a massive influx of air, uttering a defeated, “N-no, not inside—“ though it was too late. you could feel his cum in your guts, much more than a human could produce, sloshing about as he continued. he didn’t pull out, or even slow his pace. dribbling white release out with every buck of his powerful hips, his climax only seemed to spur him to fuck you harder.

“Do you feel that, Hashira?” Karaku taunts, grabbing your hair at the roots to pull your head up, forcing you to stare deep into his eyes. every thrust pushes his release deeper into you, and you mewl and groan, “You’re full of demon cum.” your eyes roll around in your head when it shakes, but Karaku swipes his mouth over yours, tasting your kiss with his long, invasive tongue. “You’re my breeding bitch now.”

“Ours. We’re supposed to be sharing her, did you forget?” Urogi nagged, dropping one of your legs to free a hand. your toe scrapes against the ground, leg limply dangling, but you don’t have the energy to use it to fight back— all of your resistance Karaku had already fucked from your body. you assume, with Urogi’s shifting behind you, that he too was grabbing and readying his cock, and you groan at the thought of being handed off for this to happen again. if you had to satisfy them both, you would surely not survive this night. “Give me room.”

“She’s too tight,” Karaku barked, “give me a minute to open her up some more.”

Urogi snarls, and rubs the swollen head of his cock against the brutal fucking you’re getting, causing your eyelids to flutter as you try to look back at him. surely, he didn’t intend to force his way into the same hole at the same time?

“We’ll stretch her out together. I’m not waiting anymore, I want to break her, too.”

Urogi worms his way inside, spearing your elastic entrance and forcing you to stretch to not only accommodate Karaku’s brutality, but now Urogi’s cock, too. they were roughly the same size and shape, at least they felt that way, but the sensation of them rubbing together inside of you, bulging against your inner walls, was utterly maddening. you felt like you were being torn in half, or as if you were a rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war between the two demons. Urogi was just as eager and cruel as his counterpart, falling into a merciless rhythm opposite of Karaku, so as Karaku was retracting, Urogi was pounding deeper, keeping your limits brutalized with not a moment to recover.

it was difficult, at this point, to do anything short of blacking out. your eyes rolled around in your head, your mouth hanged open, drool leaking from the corners and mews and helpless babbling fell free. your body slumped, in between the two sturdy demons as they all but fucked right through you.

Urogi moans, much louder and huskier, breathing hot on your neck and in your ear. “She’s so much more receptive now that she’s been tenderized,” he takes a sharp inhale, his talons tickling your chin as he tilts your head back, instead, to smash his hungry lips against yours.

the kiss is wrong. rough and forceful, and you can’t fight it, so your mouth hangs open, gurgling quiet pleas for some sort of mercy. Urogi ignores them, and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you worry his tongue, that was prodding at every inch of your mouth, would eventually choke you as fiercely as Karaku had with his hands.

he breaks the kiss for a moment, to pull back and admire the broken expression on your bruised countenance, before he tilts his head. “You’re being ruined, you know? Turned into a mindless fuckdoll.” a wide grin teases his taut lips, “Your body is ours, demon slayer, to destroy as we please. To breed when we feel the need.” if you had any tears left, they would’ve streaked the dirt on your cheeks, but you couldn’t cry.

it felt too good.

“I’d… rather… die…” you breathe out, uneven and trembling, trying to hold on to what little denial you could still muster.

“Shut up, breeder.” Karaku chomped at your clavicle, sucking and biting, leaving his mark on you. “We’ll kill you if we get bored of stuffing your holes, but you won’t get that lucky for a good, long while.” Karaku was grunting again, speeding up, as he must’ve caught on the trail of a second orgasm, and you started to whine and whimper to punctuate each thrust. all of the stimulation— the rubbing against his shaft as Karaku pounded and the way you clench and milk the two cocks fighting for ownership of your pussy— must’ve pushed Urogi over the edge, because he dropped off along the way. coming undone and bucking his hips madly, whimpering with sordid delight as he kisses you again, his release joining Karaku’s and the load already inside as they cum together this time.

a strangled cry bubbles out of your throat, the pressure on your belly more than you’ve ever felt. you could feel a faint bulge, as if they’d inflated you like a balloon, as the excess that refused to fit seeps out between your legs, splattering on the ground underneath you. you could hold absolutely no more, and they both knew that, too. as if coordinated, they both release you, and you crumble to the ground on your belly, sliding off both of their cocks in the process. another eruption of their release oozes out from your abused cunt as you lay there, fucked out and weak.

“Look at you.” Urogi swoons, planting one claw on your arm to pin you in place, squatting down to your level. his cock swung in front of your face, still hard and smelling of your body. it made you dizzy, so you tried to look away, smearing your face in the dirt to escape. “You’re no soldier, girl. All of that training did nothing for your weak mind or your easily ruined body. Break your sword and feed you a couple of demon cocks, and your true purpose is revealed.”

you hear footsteps on the other side, and only a moment passes before Karaku grasps a fistful of your hair. you were familiar, now, with that terribly painful grip. and, upon jerking your head upwards, your open mouth is plugged by his cock, giving you no choice but to taste the cum that frosts it. it’s raw and musky, and your eyes roll back upon swallowing the taste, gurgling weakly. he laughs at this, pushing your head down to force it deeper. “Hanging off our cocks like a pathetic, human puppet.”

#karaku #karaku x reader #Karaku smut #karaku x you #urogi #urogi x reader #urogi x you #urogi smut #hantengu #demon slayer x you #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #kny x you #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba

[savingcrxws]

eyes on fire | carmen berzatto headcanon

carmen berzatto x ex!reader (but not for long...)

warnings. language, mentions of suicide & death (mikey)

authors note. thinking of turning this into a fic but i just wanted to get these thoughts thrown onto a page for now | EDIT 7/7: ITS A FIC! HERES PART ONE

you hated carmen berzatto, to say the least

you had been each others first s/o and spent a lot of the end of your teenage years attached at the hip

every berzatto family function (no matter how messy they always ended), every school dance, every hell's kitchen rerun--you and carmy were together

mikey liked to call you guys soulmates, watching how you and carmy just seemed to click like that- a statement that never failed to make carmy go flush in the face (que richie faking barfing in the background)

you were one of the first people that carmen told about his wishes for the future-how he wanted to take up the restaurant with his brother and continue the berzatto tradition

you loved the way his eyes lit up when he talked about cooking with his family-the way he gave his all into his aspirations

"well you gotta make sure i'm the first one to eat those fancy sounding dishes when you start working at the beef, carm"

"absolutely, babe. i wouldn't have it any other way"

however, like everyone after high school, you and carmy hit a rough patch that sunk your relationship -- you were planning to go to college for business administration and carmy was leaving chicago to go to culinary school

you two definitely attempted everything in your power to stay together-late night skype calls, daily texts, hell you even offered to fly to new york to spend time together

but the more swamped you got with school and the more carmen got slammed with cooking (especially right before he went of to Noma), the more the truth begun to show itself

the breakup was messy, because it was less a breakup and more of ...

you: what are we doing right now? like, as a couple?

carmen: i think that i need to focus more on my career right now

you: oh, so..are we breaking up right now? (read 9:57PM)

you: carmen? (read 10:15)

you: ok, asshole, be that way (delivered)

that's right, that motherfucker ghosted you

despite the tumultuous ending of you and carmen's relationship, you were still close to sugar and mikey (and, unfortunately for you, richie)

sugar was adamant on flying over to copenhagen and have a "conversation" with her brother herself + mikey and richie were not too far behind on the cause

"it's fine guys. let's just all agree that carmen is a soft little bitch" you said, trying to lighten the mood even though you knew that you were still racking thru the pain being broken up with so suddenly

you deal with the breakup harshly at first, but you put a lot of that emotion towards your own growth

fast forward a couple years, you graduated college and are on the up-and-up in chicago as a successful business marketing manager

you get closer to the berzattos, strangely, as carmy gets more distant

you don't think of carmy much anymore but it grows harder as he wins awards and recognitions in his field that honestly make you..proud, in strange way

then, mikey dies...and a lot of things change for you

you help sugar and richie plan the funeral, and something sour sinks into your stomach when you don't see that familiar head of dirty blonde hair during the service

some months pass and you try to gather yourself and get back to normal after mikey's passing

richie invites you down to the beef one day to "catch up" randomly

you go, if not to just see tina and the rest of the crew but are met with great surprise when you see him

carmen motherfucking berzatto, in the flesh, standing behind the bar yelling to richie about something nonsensical

he stops yelling when he hears the door open and literally freezes in place when he sees you

you stare at him for a second, taking in the man who once had your heart, noting the new tattoos and the new way he styled his hair and he seems to be doing the same

then, richie breaks the silence--"oh my goodness, what are you doing here, sweetheart?"

you and carmy speak at the same time

"richie, you motherfucker"

"richie, you dick"

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fx #jeremy allen white x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto #the bear season 2 #the bear hulu

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

How To Adapt To Fire (III)

AU MASTERLIST || THE FINAL PART

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.4k

WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, death/gore, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, attempted murder, burns, needles, injuries, one dirty joke, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Running, the wind whips past your face with the force of a hurricane. 

The screams echoed over the abandoned neighborhood, leaking and rising as the illumination of a burning body sent slashing shadows along the remnants of houses. Flailing arms and sizzling flesh. It followed you as your feet slapped the concrete, satchel still at your side and your breath echoing in your ears. 

You don’t know where Duncan is—and you dare not look behind you as you dart into someone’s lawn, bee-lining away from Kurt’s now-silent inferno of burnt hair and cooking meat. Grass that grows up to your knees is shoved aside, broken down to the earth as your panting breath is too loud in your ears. It’s all you can hear now, which may be the worst part.

“Holy fuck,” your hiss under your breath, sweat dripping down your neck. Your hands were skinned in your little fall off the steps, but the sting as you slap your palm to the side of one of the houses is lost to you—pain doesn’t matter when adrenaline takes over. “Holy fuck.”

Your fingers drip crimson along the siding, but you’re gone again with ragged inhales, snapping eyes wide. You need to try and circle back for the car, you tell yourself. Patting your pockets for the hard pressure of your keys, you dash past a trash can and sigh when you feel them still there. 

And then you hear the whistling. 

It’s over the air, and in a skid of shoes, you halt and listen intently—a bird in the eyes of a fox. Lungs heaving, your head jerks around as a tune wafts up and pierces your ears. The sound echoes over the houses, flying across fallen roofs and peeling paint. You’re frozen, night corralling you in. 

“Who does this dude think he is?” You ask, a deep fear in your heart and an eerie feeling up your spine. 

It was getting closer. 

Heart stuttering, your legs take you up the back steps of a house to your left, hand snapping to the rusted handle and shoulder ramming into it. It gives way on the second shove, slamming into the far wall before you hit the ground and push on once more, the air gone from your body.

If Duncan can murder his own cousin in the way he had…what could he do to you?

Feet shuffling, your head moves quickly, taking in the decaying living room and joint kitchen—falling stairs that you instantly choose to run up, hands burning. 

Your only hope was the car; you needed to get to a vantage point, find out where Duncan was, and try to avoid him. It wasn’t any different than what you’d seen on TV…right? 

The wooden floor creaks like brittle bones, and you move across it while the scent of fire is still in your nose—gasoline and dead eyes. Your eyes go from one open door to another, beds covered with moth-eaten sheets. From outside of a broken window, you see shadows along the street; whistling. 

You choose a room at random and slink inside, hands already jerking into your satchel and pushing aside the active recorder—reaching for your phone. 

Looking between the window and the device, your dripping fingers slash through contacts until you can find the only one you think to call immediately. 

Smashing down on the green button, your phone is right at your ear as your heartbeat pulses like a drum. As it sits there, you gaze outside, panting with blood smearing along your flesh. You can’t stop thinking about Kurt—how you’d seen a man get burnt alive in front of you as if it were nothing. You’d heard and witnessed a lot of things and had been in more courtrooms than you can count…but nothing would ever top seeing the whites of a man’s eyes as his body erupted into flames. 

“Okay, okay,” the phone quivers, clothes ruffled. You hiss softly, not willing to make more noise than you have to. “C’mon, MacTavish.”

A long shadow looms in the streetlight and you drop to the floor swiftly, knees slamming the wood, just as the click on the line pushes through.

“Dearie,” the Scot’s teasing voice is a godsend. “Didn’t expect you to call so soon. Not that I—”

“I fucked up,” you breathe, and the fireman’s audible snapping of his mouth would have been comedic in any other situation. “I really fucked up, and I think I need a little intervention here before I literally go up in the flames of my ambition.”

You’re talking so fast you doubt he can even understand you, but you continue as your forehead peaks above the window frame. 

Duncan is at the house next to where you’re hiding. Standing out front with a gas can in his hand and a matchbox in the other. You watch with horrified eyes as he walks to the front porch, pours the accelerant, and steps back to light a match. 

“Oh,” you growl through a hurried gasp. “So now he decides to change M.O.”

The neighbor's home alights. 

He’s trying to corner you.

Johnny’s panicked voice wafts through. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“Listen,” you watch the fire spread, hands spasming. “I was going to wait for you, alright. J-just then I decided to not do that and I—”

“What the fuck!” There’s fast movement on the other side of the line, seemingly paper and pencils hitting the floor as fast feet slam the ground. 

“It’s not my fault I’m a stubborn bitch!” You snap, moving your free hand to the back of your neck and rubbing along the sweat there, smearing crimson. “I can’t get back to the car right now and Duncan is lighting the entire neighborhood on fire to try and catch me. I have all of it on the recorder, and I can’t lose the evidence for the inevitable court case.”

Johnny’s voice is so serious and hard, you know you’ve never seen a side like this from him before. It’s nearly a growl. “I don’t give a shit about fucking evidence. Where are you?”

You rattle off Kurt’s address from memory, face streaked with light from the fire. It was going to spread to this house. The wood is like free food just waiting for it willingly; you have to move before it catches. With the condition of the home, it would only be kindling for a larger blaze ready to overtake the street. 

Johnny’s voice is heavy. “Stay where you are and—”

Your laugh is grim, and you move out of the room rapidly as the boom of falling wood makes the ground shake. Breath nothing more than a shaky jump in your nose, you push out, “Not an option.”

“What do you mean ‘not an option’ what the hell is going on over there?! I swear, I told you not to go without me!” 

“Bring the fire trucks! All of them!” You shout and hang up swiftly as Johnny’s loud call of your name is silenced. 

You’re halfway down the stairs when the back door you’d previously busted through creaks on its hinges. 

Above fire, above the pattering of your pulse, your eyes are stuck-still. Stationary. Stiff. 

Duncan stares at you—and you stare at him. 

It’s like time utterly stops, hit in the face by a metal pipe before its teeth get knocked to the ground in a clatter of white enamel. Shell-shocked. 

Your phone rings again—Johnny, no doubt, but when it does, Duncan pounces.

He tosses the gas canister to the ground, followed by a quick match as you curse and race back upstairs. The whoosh of flames bursts into existence as hard boots follow after you, hot on your heels. 

“Shit!” You yell, calling out a firm and fearful, “Duncan!” 

A hand swipes at your shirt collar before you duck and pivot, shifting to brace your feet and ram your shoulder backward. The man takes the force right to the chest and shouts, tilting on the steps with a flailing arm, fingers that card through the air. 

But you’re not quick enough in the rabid getaway. 

A hand latches onto your wrist, and then you’re being yanked down with him into the awaiting arms of the burning fire.

—

Johnny’s whole heart is more active than when he and you were stuck in the sheets together—arousal is nothing compared to the fear he feels. 

The man’s legs carry him quickly into the engine room, grabbing gear and sending out the alarm. Already calls were coming in from dispatch, worried civilians who had said they’d seen what appeared to be twin fires off into the more abandoned parts of the left-to-rot suburbs. 

His panic extends to the next country it’s so far-reaching. Your call—your voice—the things you’d told him and, worse, what you hadn’t. 

Why did you have to be so stubborn?

He needs to get to you, and he can’t breathe properly until he does.

It doesn’t take the firemen long to get into the trucks—the red demons rocketing out of the station with every blaring alarm at their disposal, and at every bump, Johnny’s stiff eyes glare openly at his lap. The others dare not say anything to him; they all know that look.

A man on the edge of a fraying line. Stuck on the knife—waiting for the final twist. 

With all of the gear, MacTavish could be compared to someone heading straight into war, and with the following wail of police sirens, maybe war was where he was always meant to be. Johnny fidgets, his fingers clenching and unclenching above the meat of his thighs, helmet on his head nothing but a weight of reminder. He was there to stop fires—he was there to put them out. 

But even God knew that the second his boots hit the ground, and the rest of the firemen were grabbing the hoses, he would be running into that inferno without a second glance backward. 

Johnny was born and bred from fire, and at the very end of it, the flames would take him back.  

Not yet, he’d say. Not until she’s safe. 

The Scot grabs the face-piece at his feet, fixes it over his visage, and listens to his own rabid breath echo back to him. It was louder than any other sound he’d ever heard.

The shaking of his fingers is a traitorous beast.

—

Dragging an arm over the ground, the first thing you do is cough through black smoke. 

Mind delirious, you blink rapidly, stinging eyes unwilling to stay open for long simply due to the spike of irritation—instinctual tears blurring the few moments of clarity to be offered.

You choke on nothing and burn through all of it. 

Flopping, you force your body up onto its hands and knees, the world tilting even then as palms drag and fingers dig. The second your tears slap your knuckles, a leg to your ribs is kicking you back down. 

Yelling in pain, you sprawl to your spine, body bouncing as the sound of fire eating away drywall and dead wood sizzle in your eardrums. Your skin is sweltering, and you can’t stop the flood of sweat dripping off your flesh—it nearly hurts.

Head shaking, wet hands grasp at your wrists forcing them back. 

“You could have left,” Duncan hisses above the waves of spreading fire. If you wanted to live, you had to get out now. The very bones of this house are threatening to buckle like the spine of an old man—visible rafters beginning to cave. Splintering wood. Creaking. “You could have stayed out of it!”

You yell, legs kicking out with the strength you can muster above the carbon monoxide coursing through your blood. Your muscles need oxygen. You need to breathe.

Your lungs are too tight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Cursing, your body lashes, Duncan and yourself battling along the burning ground as the roof across the room caves in, sending ashes and a large tsunami of orange rolling ever upwards and a shockwave that gives a sliver of an opportunity. 

The both of you hiss, arms moving up to protect your faces. 

Your clothes are ruined—ripped; torn. You don’t even care about any of it. There’s a ferality to you now, a bleeding fear that far drowns even the blood of your skinned hands. As you’re trying to stand again, Duncan tries to barrel into you. 

“I warned you to stop looking into it!” He rages. “Look what you made me do! I killed Kurt because of you!”

You grapple for your satchel, his shadow nearly on top of you before your arms flex and spring like the trigger of a pistol. Swinging the bag back, you send it in an arch with your hands gripping the tough material. The heavy thump and grunt resonates quickly as you hack again, sirens just beginning in the distance totally lost to you. 

“Maybe,” you speak on smoke-tight airways—a heavy wheeze as the fire licks your arms. You shout, almost dropping your bag. “You shouldn't fucking kill people!” 

Your hands grasp the satchel once more, lifting and striking down as Duncan yowls, finally grabbing it and tearing it out of your hands. He wraps his arms around your waist and sends you both directly into the heart of the blaze with an animalistic shove.

Crashing, the immediate flush of fire is so hot that it’s cold—like you’re plunged into ice, even as you feel your skin sizzle. Yet, the resounding scream is nothing compared to the roar of rage as an axe is taken to the last standing wall of the house. 

You fight with Duncan all the while the heat overtakes you, clawing and yelling; nothing more than a banshee of snapping teeth and hatred. The man forces you down, the warmth cooking the skin of your back one patch of flesh and fabric at a time. 

Fingers curl your throat as you dig your thumbs into your aggressor's eyes, choking; wheezing. Black begins to settle in front of your hazy vision, seconds leaning into longer glimpses of moving shadows and growing pain—a pain that adrenaline can only do so much against. And then, just before Duncan’s blood can drip down to your face, his eyes leaking and red, he’s ripped off in a flurry of fast hands and muffled calls. 

An oxygen mask flashes across your dying field of view, and a helmet—a fireproof jacket. Wide, panicked cobalt eyes. And yelling…so much yelling. All of it is stuck behind material that makes it sound like there are voices hidden underwater. 

Hands skimming your shoulders, dragging you out quickly as your bloody fingers grasp in dying panic—fading senses. There are others too, three inside of this house all frantically moving. Ducan is being restrained as well as he’s able to be, dragged back with two sets of hands—one on his shoulders the other on his legs like a child. 

You, on the contrary, get taken up in a fast set of arms more bulky than they are not, shoving you into a heavy chest until your face is hidden into a neck protected by a high collar. 

“Pencils!” Your body burns, and your face contorts as your focus can finally bleed into it. 

Shaking—quivering, your ears are ringing and the rushing feet below you jostle your form. 

Finally making it outside, it’s not a moment later that the entire house falls into itself, a tomb of fire and near death—lost to all but ash. Sirens are suddenly louder; shrill voices. 

Johnny’s hurried voice, and the sound of a mask being ripped off of his face. “Medic!” 

You pant, mouth opening but no words coming out beyond a sharp gasp for fresh air. Something is fitted over your face before you’re lying down on a cot, and your fingers reach but meet air. Head craning up, you blink just in time to see it as the EMTs begin jogging over to their ambulance. Johnny moves and grabs his helmet and throws it to the ground, barking something so loud that you’re broken mind can pick it up.

“Give the fucker to me!” The accent makes it all the more violent, and as your oxygen mask is strapped to your head, you stare owlishly, visage awash with blood and tears. You don’t even want to look down at yourself, and in this haze, you’re not even sure you’d be able to. 

But you can see the rabid events unfolding like your very own TV show. 

Firemen try to grapple Johnny back, but it’s useless to try and stop a brick wall. The Scot shoves one away before his gloved fingers snatch a restrained Duncan, and throws him up on his charred legs.

Senselessly, the arsonist smiles—it’s a distant, psychotic thing. 

“You know the journalist—” A fist is sent hurtling into his face.

Falling back, Duncan cries out as his nose breaks in multiple places; shattering like glass under the force of a steel hammer. 

“Get over ‘ere.” Johnny’s voice is raspy; guttural. You cough and the EMTs connect an IV to your arm, quickly nearing the ambulance as they try to coax you to lay back down. “Bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bending above Duncan’s body, MacTavish gets in two more sharp blows before he’s torn away with yells and orders—shoved with appeasing pats to his arms and desperate pleas to hold out. 

The police rush over, restraining Duncan and forcing his unconscious body to the side. Blood stains the ground, and the fires continue to blaze—others in the background trying to push it back. 

Chest heaving, your throat is raw, but even so, as the EMTs can’t stop you from weakly peeling back the oxygen mask, you call hoarsely, “Johnny!”

You’re loaded into the ambulance just as his eyes snap over, his chest rising and flailing through all of that gear still visible. Calming words find your ears as the medics move the oxygen back over your nose and mouth, holding it so you can’t take it off again. 

The back door is about to be slammed shut before the familiar square face bullies itself in. 

“Sir, you can’t—!”

“Drive,” the fireman shuffles into the seat directly across from you as large, damp, rags are set over your flesh in quick succession as you hiss, eyes flinching shut. Johnny grunts at the EMT who blinks quickly before he twitches at the sound of your pain; jaw clenching. “...Before I get into that seat myself.” 

The engine rumbles to life, and Johnny’s the one who takes your hand into his and drops his tone—moving closer. It takes a moment for his worry to be shoved behind a lens of surety, not for himself, but for you. 

The uncertainty in your eyes made him want to storm backward and show Duncan what fists can do when that’s all you have to rely on instead of cowardice. Fire was a tool of a weakling, and no man was weaker than one who tried to murder someone like you and your bright intellect. But there was no use thinking about it now.

“Oh, Hen,” Johnny’s voice cracks, eyes glancing you up and down quickly as the EMTs do their work. You wouldn’t be awake much longer—if you managed to fight the pain, they’d put you to sleep for your own safety. 

The burns were…they weren’t good.

“Hey, now,” the fireman eases, forcing a small smile and capturing your ash-smeared cheek. He doesn’t care about the state of his gear—the heavy oxygen tank on his back—all he needs is to hold you; even as little as this. “You just let those boys do their jobs, yeah? They’ll have you back up in no time at all, Pencils. Breathe for me, Dearie.” 

Your fast breaths stutter and the scrape of your vocal cords makes Johnny flinch, his eyelids pulling in as a grimace shifts the lines of his face. 

The man fights with himself to snap at the others and make them tell the driver to push the gas harder. He knows they’re going as fast as they’re able.

You try to speak, but Johnny shuts it down with a firm shake of his head. Seeing the packages of sterile bandages being unpacked with rapid hands, knowing the sting that will follow as they’re placed on leaking skin, the Scot moves closer and lightly shields your vision of it.

“No, c’mon now, don’t speak.” An unsteady smirk. “I know I take your breath away, but let's just wait until you’re at the hospital for all of that, eh?”

At the jerky glare coming off of you, a sliver of his panic leaves him.

Johnny tries a weak chuckle before it falls flat. 

Your eyes pick up on the agony before the black at the sides of your vision sweeps in—taking you away as the first press of wrappings along your back make themselves known. His hand stays firm at your cheek; thumb moving over the skin until that’s all you can focus on anymore. 

His touch. Not the fire’s—not Duncan’s. His. The same man that held you close and watched your back. Who had run into a burning house for your safety even if that was his job to do so. 

Johnny seems to be thinking the same because before your head goes limp against the cot, the familiar drawl sings you to sleep.

“…I would have searched that house for you until it fucking took me with it.”

—

The voice recordings from your charred satchel were in police custody, just as Duncan was. 

Along with the thick bindings that had taken home along your back and the upper part of your shoulders, there were others. Your voice was still a crackling mess—as if the fire had left behind a remnant of itself there, an ever-bending and shifting shard directly in your throat. Not even water could get rid of the itch, but you’d been told it would get better. 

All things considered, it could have been worse. 

There was a shit load to do—to explain. Duncan's involvement as well as the deceased Kurts, whose face still haunts you even now; it probably always will. 

Johnny’s shadow flashes in front of yours and you blink quickly, clearing your head. A pause emanates, and the man’s brows tighten. 

“What?” You try to clear your throat and grimace, the hospital bed uncomfortable for you. You’d much rather prefer Johnny’s. 

“I asked you if you’d want any more blankets, Bonnie,” the Scot’s head tilts. He hums. “More medicine? Feeling alright?” 

“So doting,” you huff, fingers rubbing at your neck before Soap sighs and stands from the side chair he’d been in. “No, I’m…fine.”

“My job.” Johnny grunts and his hand pushes away your own, fingers finding the spot that itches internally and carefully massaging until you’re like putty in his hands. In fact, you nearly purr before you sag into him, eyelids drooping. There’s a smug glance tossed your way. “And I don’t mean to brag, but I think I’m doin’ pretty good.”

Your lips pull, vision slipping upward. “Careful, people will think I got married over the span of three days.”

Johnny blinks, “Didn’t we?”

Your face burns. “No, MacTavish we did not. Hot-head. All the fumes go straight to your head, I swear.” All the talking was only aggravating your voice, but for the life of you, you can’t stop. 

Johnny rolls his eyes, skull tilting. A bead of serious talk leeks in as his fingers shift from your throat to your head, tips stimulating your scalp which you hum approvingly to. “What’s the plan?”

You think for a moment, letting the man come and lay a firm kiss on your temple. Your heart knows he intends to stay with you through all of this—already he’d been out on paid leave about the whole ‘attacking a restrained man’ fiasco. The bastard deserved it, Johnny had growled to you yesterday as he helped you drink water. You had to agree. 

“Sleep,” your answer is soft and simple. There was no use fretting about the whims of a far-off tomorrow. The future is a fickle creature, ever changing shape to fit the image it wants to play with like a doll at the nearest moment—there was never a pen in your pocket that was trying to jot down its profile; to understand it. Johnny was here, the bed was warm, and his hands were kind. 

That was all you needed.

Cobalt eyes stare for a moment at your response, before the Scot chuckles. “...Well, I can’t fight you there.”

Your hand lightly snares his wrist, and you pull him to you, letting his body melt back onto the bed until you can rest your temple on his shoulder and sigh out your tension. Johnny’s arm curls carefully to rest on your lower back, as delicate as glass. 

It’s a while before he speaks again. 

“You really did worry me,” he whispers, staring into the ceiling and trying to make images out of the shadows on the ceiling. “If I hadn’t gotten there…”

“You did,” you utter, eyes half-closed and fingers rubbing at his stomach. He shivers. “One-way road, Johnny. Stop that.”

“Doesn't make me feel any better when you’re stuck in here for two more weeks.” A smile pulls your face and he glances down, feeling it against his shirt. “...What are you smiling about?”

You hide it into his chest and he shakes his head in exasperation, scoffing.

“I swear, I’m the only one who cares about your safety and then I get mocked for it.”

“M’not mocking you,” your muffled voice grumbles out. “You’re just pouting.”

Johnny grunts, rolling his eyes. “Course.”

“Proving my point.”

“Next time I leave,” Soap’s lips are atop your head, muttering. “I’ll be tying you to the bed and watching you through the camera.”

A thin trail of jumpy laughter echoes out into the halls of the hospital, and your response is just as quick as it always is—as it always would be through Hell and high water. This wasn’t an ideal situation, and there would be more trials to come both literally and metaphorically, but Johnny made for a good rock through all of it. 

He certainly was a better informant than you intended him to be. 

“Ooo, Mr. MacTavish,” a loud groan, laced with a fond, almost worshiped, adoration. “I didn’t know you could be so risqué.” 

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[whumpback-wail]

01 - Make It Out Alive

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

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Wriothesley growled and pressed the Fatui agent's face further into the ground "I'll only ask you one more time," fire roared on his left side, "Where is she?"

"Lowest b-basement!" The agent choked out, "the doctor kept her locked in a cage, but I'm not even sure if she's still-"

Wriothesley roughly smashed the villain's head into the ground, knocking him out immediately.

She's alive.

She has to be.

"Wriothesley."  Clorinde gestured to the dark hallway looming before him, "Go. Me and the others will clean off this place."

With a quick nod, Wriothesley shouldered past them and rushed further down the hallway, all rational thoughts abandoned.

He's getting closer now.

He ran down the stairs which lead to the basement. Even so he felt as if he's moving too slowly.

Will he make it in time before she..

He shook his head, not wanting to finish the thought. Not when he's this close to getting her back.

The basement was a stark contrast to the upper floors. While upstairs it was clean and almost hospital-like, with individual rooms for patients- he refused to call them experiment subjects, the basement area looks unkempt, as if it was simply abandoned. It was dusty with cobwebs on every corner, and the cement floor damp in some areas from dripping water.

Running through the basement, Wriothesley opened every door he passed by. Most of them revealed empty rooms, and some cluttered storage areas, but a handful of them opened to reveal rows upon rows of cages that held people in them.

They were kept in terrible conditions, as if they were imprisoned or left for dead. With each room he opened, and each cage he searched, Wriothesly felt his heart sink lower and lower.

After yet another room searched with no sign of (y/n) he gestured for his men to help the prisoners while he continued his search.

If (y/n) isn't here, there's a good chance she somehow escaped, so that should be a good thing, right?

Or dead.

Pushing the thought out of his head, the steely blue eyed duke came to a halt in front of the final door. This one had a door that sagged on its hinges, tilting in a way that did not let it fit into its frame. It was slightly open and a foul sewer stench seemed to emanate from it. Shivering, he pushed the door open and went inside.

The door opens to a long, rectangular room that resembles a prison, like the previous rooms. There were floor to ceiling bars to his left and right.

Wriothesley went further inside and peered into each of the cells.

Empty.

On the far end of the room, however, there was a smaller sized cage. Something used for an animal, big enough to hold a tiger, but too small for a human to stand upright.

The door was slightly ajar, and there seemed to be something inside it. Something dark and unmoving.

Squinting through the darkness with his heart racing in his chest, he peered inside, gasping when he found that the object is clearly a person. Someone very familiar to him.

It was female, with her hair tangled darker than its usual shade. She was only wearing the bare minimum, a sort of hospital dress, but even so, it was tattered and bloodstained, barely enough to protect her from the cold winter. She laid on the floor of the cage facing away from him, tucked into herself at the very corner as if trying to stay as far as possible from the door.

"(Y/N)!"

He quickly shoved the cage door open further, reaching inside. She was cold. Very cold.

No...

His heart plummeted down to his stomach as he reached in and pulled her broken form out the cage carefully, as if afraid she would shatter upon his touch. She was completely limp, showing no response to his voice and touch.

Now he understood why they didn't even bother to lock the door.

"(y/n)," he turned her over, feeling his heart clench at the sight of her face. Blood from a wound on her forehead covered the left half of her face, while her right eye was swollen shut. Her lips, once soft and pink, now split and cracked.

Blue eyes scanned down her body for more damage, found that it was near impossible with the way blood and dirt stuck to her like second skin.

He noticed how much more skinny she had got, nothing but skin and bones.

"Archons, what did they do to you?" he whispered, caressing her face.

Wriothesley felt tears prickling behind his eyes. Was he too late? He quickly removed his jacket and wrapped her in it, hoping it would warm her up even if just a little

"I-I'm here, you’re in my arms now, you're safe. Please open your eyes, (y/n)..." he rocked her gently, "(y/n)... come on sweetheart, it's me, I'm here. I'm right here." No reaction. She was completely unconscious, her head lolling backwards.

No…

Wriothesley leaned down to listen for her breaths, anything. He was only met with the deafening sound of silence.

“No no (y/n), please, don’t do this to me.”

As if handling glass, he placed her gently on the ground and tilted her head back. Pinching her nose, Wriothesley pressed his lips against hers and blew rescue breaths into her. Blue eyes searched her face for any hint of a reaction as he placed his hands in the center of her chest, one hand laced on top of the other. He locked his elbows and began pumping.

“Come on, breathe.” He commanded, her bruised and battered body rocked with each forceful pump.

How long since she stopped breathing?

He felt the crack more than he heard it. One of her ribs had probably cracked or worse, broken. “Fuck!” his voice came out in a breathless whimper.

Again he leaned down and blew into her some more rescue breaths.

I’m hurting her, I hurt her- No. A few broken ribs will heal, but she needs to breathe.

“Come on (y/n), breathe. Come back to me.”

Wriothesley refused to give up, not when she’s right here. His arms burned from the effort of keeping her heart beating. Even so he pushed himself to maintain his steady pace. He was about to blow more rescue breaths into her mouth when she sputtered and coughed.

“(y/n)? Can you hear me? (y/n)?" his breath shook as he gently rolled her to her side until her coughing fit subsided. (y/n)'s arm, the one against his chest, seemed to try to push him off, a feeble attempt considering his stature was like a brick wall.

Before he knew it, she had gone limp again, the arm that tried to push him rests on her stomach.

Wriothesley gritted his teeth and slowly gathered her in his arms. "I'll get you out of here, (y/n). You're going to be okay." 

He walked as quickly as he possibly could, trying not to jostle her too much. But even so it didn't seem to make any difference. (y/n) still remained motionless, her body sagging almost lifeless in his arms.

Walking out of the basement, he was greeted by Neuvilette and Aether. The two had finished battling the meks that went haywire, seeing how so much debris was strewn all about. Their hopeful expressions upon seeing him fell once their eyes landed on the bundle wrapped up in Wriothesley's arms.

"(y/n)? How-" Neuvilette cut Aether off by placing a hand on bis shoulder. Not good. Wriothesley's grim expression and watery eyes told them everything.

"She's alive," Wriothesley spoke past the lump in his throat, "but she will need immediate medical attention. I'm taking her to the hospital." He nodded towards the Aether, who knew immediately he should prepare to teleport them back to Fontaine.

In a flash, Aether, Wriothesley, and (y/n) was gone.

• • •

Neuvilette looked as if he wanted to say more to the three who had just disappeared, but then his eyes landed on Chlorinde, who had stopped beside him.

"I couldn't find her vision," Chlorinde's eyes were downcast, betraying her emotions despite the steely mask she had at all times, "they either ran off with it or destroyed it. The latter is more plausible."

She opened her hand, there rests a piece of golden metal twisted into an intricate frame. Where a glowing red pyro vision stone used to reside, it is now empty.

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.....(つ . •́ _ʖ •̀ .)つ [ ٩(×_×#)۶]

A/N

Whew first chapter! Been a while since I wrote anything so I hope that wasn't too clunky! Chapter 2 coming soon-ish!

#wriothesley x reader #whump #anime whump #whump writing #whump fanfic #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley angst #wriothesley x reader angst #hurt/comfort

[wintersoldiersoul]

hey dear ❤️ I maybe thought of an imagine with Bucky where you're on a mission in the mountains but due to the weather you need to stay in a little cabin for the night but it's terribly cold. He lights a fire but then he offers you his sweater. You're both getting closer (you have a crush as well on each other), so you kinda forget about the mission and just enjoy the time together as you also share a meaningful kiss?

Keep Me Warm

A/N: I changed up the timeline of this a tiny bit but the main idea is still there! I hope you enjoy!!

The mission had been long and grueling. You and Bucky have spent nearly a week in the mountains trying to take down the enemy. You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Finally, you had gotten the call that you could come home. You were so excited to be back home in the compound, sleeping in your own comfy bed.

“Excited to go home, Y/N?” Bucky asked. 

You rubbed your hands together, trying to keep warm while you waited for the jet. “Can’t wait. I’m looking forward to a nice hot shower and sleeping in my bed.”

He smiled. There was no better thing in the world than him smiling. You tried to keep your crush on him at bay, knowing he’d never feel the same way about you, but damn was it hard. His blue eyes were so mesmerizing and his smile could wake a goddamn army. He was just so perfect.

You smiled back, hoping that he assumed that the blush on your cheeks was from the cold and not from him.

His phone rang and he answered, hoping it would be an update on how far the jet was. “Hey Steve,” Bucky said into the device. “Shit, really? Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he sighed. “Yup. I’ll check back when we’re there. Bye.” He hung up and looked at you. “Bad news. There’s a bad storm coming and the jet can’t fly. We’re gonna have to stay here another night.”

“Fuckk,” you threw your head back in frustration. You had spent the entire mission hiding in safe house to safe house, all of them in secluded areas where you couldn’t be found. Sometimes if you were lucky, you got to stay in nicer places with actual beds and furniture. But due to the sensitive nature of this mission, that hadn't been the case. The thought of spending another night in one of those places nearly made you cry. 

“Good news is that Steve said there’s a cabin not too far. It’s still nothing fancy, but he said its an upgrade to what we’ve been in. We should be safe now that we’ve, you know, taken down the enemy,” he smiled warmly, trying to get you to stay positive. 

“Oh, that's good,” you responded. “Let’s go, then.” 

The two of you had to trudge through the snow to get there. The walk ended up being nearly 2 hours and you couldn’t feel your body by the time you arrived. The cabin was small, with only one bedroom, a living room, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.

“Shit, you’re shivering,” Bucky noted when you got inside.

“Yeah, how are you not?” 

He shrugged. “It’s the serum. I’m still cold, don’t get me wrong, but it makes it a lot harder for me to be cold. Even in freezing weather.”

“Must be n-nice,” you mumbled through chattering teeth. “I get cold so easily. Any time it’s below 50 degrees I can’t f-feel my t-toes.”

“Go take a hot shower, okay? I’ll try to see if there’s any food I can make for us.” 

You nodded, going to the bathroom to take a shower. You took your time, rejoicing in the hot water as you washed all of the dirt off of your skin. When you got out, you rummaged through your bag trying to find a sweatshirt but it seemed to have disappeared. “Fuck,” you whispered. You must have left it at the last safe house. You threw on a t-shirt and sweats, still shivering as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Is the heat on?” You asked Bucky.

“I think it’s broken. I was playing around with it but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.”

You rubbed your hands over your arms, trying to get warm. “Shit, I think I left my sweatshirt at the last safe house.” 

 “Doll, you’re gonna freeze,” he said sympathetically. “Here.” In one fell-swoop he ripped off the gray cable knit sweater that he had on. “I just put it on when we got here so it’s clean.”

“Buck, I don’t want you to be cold, though,” you protested, despite how cozy the sweater looked. 

He swatted a hand. “Remember, I don’t get too cold. Don’t worry about me. You’re gonna turn into an ice block soon.”

You smiled, graciously. “Thanks.” You pulled the sweater over your head, immediately enthralled by his scent. The fabric smelled like musky vanilla and pine, the scent that you had come to associate with him. It smelled like home. 

“I was able to find some soup,” he said, holding out a bowl for you. “Maybe it will help warm you up.” 

“Thank you, Buck.” You sat down and began to eat.

“Lemme see if I can get a fire started,” he got up and walked over to the fireplace. You watched him as he threw wood into a pile, entranced by his muscles flexing each time he picked up another piece. Between the serum, the metal arm, and the fact that he was just so in shape, he did it all with ease, not even flinching at the weight. How could you not fall for the guy just a little bit? 

“You alright over there?” He smirked at you, noticing your eyes on him.

Shit, get it together, Y/N, you thought. “Oh, sorry, just zoning out,” you tried to cover. 

Within a few minutes, he had a roaring fire emanating heat throughout the room. But it still wasn’t enough to keep you warm over by the table you were still sitting at. 

“Come over here,” he encouraged. “It's nice and warm by the fire.”

You stood up and made your way over to the couch so that you could feel the heat of the fire better. “Oh, that’s nice,” you hummed, feeling the embers warming your body. Bucky crept up beside you sitting down and rubbing his flesh arm over yours.

“You’re fucking freezing. I can feel how cold you are through the sweater,” he whispered. He was so close to you. “Lemme hold you. Warm you up a bit.”

“Um,” you cleared your throat, heart rate speeding up. “O-okay. Yeah, sure.” 

He laughed quietly before pulling you so you were laying back against him. “Damn, I feel bad that you’re so cold,” he said, voice holding sympathy and care.

“It’s not your fault, Buck. You’re already doing a lot to try to help.”

The next words he said were something you never thought you’d hear. “Maybe I should never let you go. Just keep holding you like this forever.”

“What?” Did you hear him right? Did he really just say that? He laughed lightly. “Would you like that?”

“Bucky, I-um…” you felt so flustered. Was he just messing with you?

“Come on, Doll,” he smiled. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it that I’m kinda in love with you. And I think…” he said, putting his mouth close to your ear. “You might feel the same way about me.”

“Bucky,” you whispered, the feeling of him speaking into your ear sending chills through your body. 

“If I’m reading it totally wrong that’s okay. But I can’t hide how I feel anymore, Y/N. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t even talk to you for like 3 months because I got so flustered around you. Then we did start talking and I found out that you were also the most interesting, intelligent, kind person I’ve ever met. So tell me, please. Do you feel the same way?”

Your heart pounded. How was this happening? “Yes, Bucky. I-I feel the same way.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you turn around so I can kiss you?”

You quickly flipped your body so you were lying on him, face to face. He pulled your mouth to his, quickly inserting his tongue into your mouth. It was so much better than you had imagined, and you had spent a lot of time fantasizing about kissing him. 

“Y/N,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He ran his hand up and down your back as he spoke. “You’re so amazing.”

“I’ve been dreaming about that for a while too, Buck,” you laughed, enjoying his embrace. “You know,” you spoke, voice in a teasing tone. “There’s only one bed in here. We might have to put it to good use.”

Within a second, Bucky picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #marvel #bucky fluff #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky x you #sebastian stan fluff #fluff #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes comfort #marvel fluff #marvel mcu

[popopretty]

BSD Chapter 106.5

"In the Narrow Room" - Part 2.2

This chapter is the continuation of Mersault with Dazai and Sigma.

I love this chapter!!! But at the same time I'm so shocked I have no words T_T Hands shaking just typing this out so please forgive me if I make any mistake (I don't speak English nor Japanese as my native language)

SPOILERS AHEAD

Sigma tries to get out of the water to get some air but the water is burning so he has to dive back in. Apparently the fuel coming from the wall is Fyodor's doing. Dazai tells Sigma to use his gun to shoot the door but it is too hard the bullets do not work. Sigma is almost out of breath when he notices the fire has stopped and believes that the fuel has burned out so he tries to swim to the surface but before he can get out of water, he is pulled back down by Dazai.

At first Sigma thinks Dazai is trying to kill him. He blames himself for being too naive to think that he could trust Dazai, before after all, Dazai is just like Fyodor - someone from *that side*. But as they get closer in the water, he realizes Dazai is just trying to stop him from doing a sucidal act - that he only came to understand later. Basically, the fire has burnt up all the oxygen left in that narrow space, that's why there is no oxygen left in the air above water. If one inhales that air, their blood will lose oxygen instead and it can lead to immediate death. This is also a part of Fyodor's evil plan.

When Sigma is already at his limit, Dazai grabs the gun, puts his hand out of the water and shoots the electric box (?) of the elevator. He uses Sigma as a step to jump out of the water, into the non-oxygen room, shoots something inside the electric box and inserts his arm into it. After that, the door starts to slighly open and Sigma uses all his strength to force it open, letting the water out. Sigma realizes that what Dazai destroyed is the wire that control the opening and closing of the elevator door. It is not as strong as the door itself and can be broken by force. Dazai somehow saw through this structure and was able to stick his hand through the weak part of the devices to destroy the wires. However, Sigma stilll doesn't understand how Dazai was able to find those wires.

Sigma finally gets out of the water. He is able to breath normally, so he turns to Dazai, looking happy. Dazai also smiles back at him, but then they hears the automated voice inside the elevator, saying that since the water operation has failed, the safety device for the elevator will be purged and it will proceed to free fall. Right after that, the elevator starts to drop. Sigma reaches for the opening in the door, thinking that he has to escape from there before the elevator fully accelerates, but it is too far from him and he thinks he's going to die. Dazai smiles and tells him that he promised he would return Sigma alive, then he uses his whole body to push Sigma out of that door to safety, while he is still inside. Before disappearing from side, he tells Sigma that he leaves the rest to him.

Thank you for reading till the end. I personally believe Dazai will still survive, but his selfless act in this chapter just makes me wanna cry...

The next chapter will come out on May 2nd.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #summary #dazai osamu #sigma

[pigeonpeach]

Forced proximity

Prompt: forced to take shelter together from various environmental hazards, how will they handle being so close to you?

Characters: Shenhe, Diluc, Chevreuse, Dehya, Kaeya, Zhongli

Chevreuse

“My musket is waterproof, so we won’t be stopped with the rain.” She said as you ran with her to find shelter. You two had been trying to set up a trap for local criminals using you, a newbie as bait with her in the shadows. Normally you would be against this but you had actually used this before and you didn’t end up with even a scratch from it. As long as Chevreuse was the one you were working with, it was fine.

“I’m more worried about the hypothermia personally.” You complained. Your dainty dress was by no means waterproof. Infact it acted like a sponge, you would be warmer snuggling with cryo slimes than in this getup.

“Over there! There’s a ship wreck, that could offer some shelter if we’re lucky.” She said. The shipwreck seemed recent, probably from the flood of fontaine which displaced many. It seemed this one was relatively in good condition, rust only starting to form on its metal exterior. You ran in with her as you two quickly sought to remove your wet exterior clothes. “We’ll have to remove your dress, sorry if that’s uncomfortable but its just too drenched.” You were a bit surprised but understood.

“Yes I know, just give me sometime.” You said. It wasn’t easy but you knew it had to be done. What made it more difficult was how it clung to you. Hiding behind a broken wall, you undressed to your underwear. You looked to see if she was watching but she had her back turned, trying to get a fire started. You began to squeeze the water out, trying to not get it on you in the process. Next time you should ask for a jacket when she approaches you with the disguise.

“Are you done yet.”

“Almost.. there’s alot of water in this.” You groaned. You noticed she had successfully started a fire. Making sure to isolate it from any flammable objects. You were so cold at that point you just draped your wet dress over your self and sat a bit away from her.

“that bad huh. I’ll just keep my eyes elsewhere then.” She said. “I didn’t think it’d rain today, especially considering how warm it was a second ago.”

“That dastardly hydro dragon. Someone should give them emotional support animal at this rate.” you cursed under your breath.

“It’s probably that one ongoing trial with the serial killer. He’s go a bastard of a lawyer who’s really good at loopholes. Supposedly the final trial is today.”

“They’re not letting that pyscho back out surely?!” You jolted.

“Relax, all it takes is one slip up and he’s got no defense then. Besides, Neuvillette will definitely not let him go if he still considers him guilty.”

“You’re right but considering I fit the bill for his primary victims i can’t exactly sleep soundly until his head is off or he’s imprisoned! I wish Furina was still in the courts, she would’ve never let that man get this far.”

“I’m sure she has her own reasons, but considering how much help you’ve been I’m not going to let you go unguarded. I’ll schedule patrols by your district more and by your areas.”

“You would do that for me? I’m impressed. I didn’t know I did such a good job at being a damsel for hire.” You snickered.

“I mean it. Oh and by the way, your clothes look dry now.” She said. You almost forgot about that.

“Oh, give me a second.”you went back behind your wall to redress yourself, this time leaving the hoop skirt out of it.

“If you’re still cold we should huddle together. That way we can share body heat.” She said as you approached her once more. “My body is warmer than usual because of my vision after all”

“I’ll take you up on that offer then.” You smiled sitting much closer to her than she might’ve expected. “Do you mind a bit of cuddling?”

“With you? No.” She said, her arm wrapped around you almost on instinct. “You’re a bit more special than other people to me.”

“Do you tell that to every damsel you hire?” You tease.

“Oh god of course not! What do you think I am?” She cackled. “You make it sound like you’re some.. prostitute!”

“I am selling my body technically.” You added, jokingly, your head resting on her shoulders almost by instinct.

“Why did you take up that offer anyways? You have a good job, enough to live on the surface anyways.”

“Because I wanted to get stuck in the rain with you obviously! But in seriousness.. i uhh.. had a loan i had to pay and i spent a good majority on my paycheck already. So i needed fast cash and i saw the paper and i took it.” You explained.

“Huh, you sure you weren’t trying to hit on me? Because you were eyeing me during that little training session.” She adds.

“If that’s what you would like it be then yes I was hitting on you.” You said, your eyes trailed to her cheeks to catch a glimpse of her blushing face.

“Hm… I guess you were then.. lets get some rest.. the rain should let up by then.”

You couldn’t help feeling delightful that you finally broke her cold exterior. And with your body so close to hers, you truly felt victorious.

Diluc

“There. Its not much but it should offer some shelter in the meantime.” He said pointing to a old caravan. The roof of it was intact. You two quickly hid under there. Quickly finding your bodies pressed against each other.

“S-sorry.. i can’t move over any more.” You said nervously. But In reality, you didn’t want to move from his warm body at all. It felt like laying on a warm patch of sunlight.

“Its fine. I’ve been told I’m warm enough already. Here.” He took off his jacket, wrapping it across you.

“Thank you… and thank you for saving me from those hilichurls earlier too.” Your heart was racing, it sounded like his was too.

“Its nothing. Those knights, they were supposed to clear the area for merchants.” He scowled.

“Well, it was my fault for making the delivery without a jacket. I should’ve taken Sara’s advice and gone the long way. Its a good thing I still have it.” You managed to pull out the food in question, it was just a simple chicken skewers.

“I suppose you won’t be able to deliver it now, there’s no harm in having it if you’re hungry.” He said. But you offered it to him.

“Have one, you must be hungry. I can’t imagine its easy wielding a claymore on a empty stomach.. besides, there’s already one for myself”

“Why did they order chicken skewers, its the most simple dish to make?” He said almost judge-mentally.

“Well its a special one, we used a marinade for the chicken, try it.” You again offered it to him. He took it. You watched his eyes light up. “Good right? It would be better if it was warm.”

“I’m sure could try it while stopping by.”

“That sounds nice… you’re really warm by the way..” you blurt out. He looks surprised.

“I hope so. Are you warm too?” He asked. You nod.

“We should wait out the storm. I’m sure it shouldn’t be too long.” He said, you realized his face has been red this whole time.

“Although.. My winery isn’t too far from here.. but you said your foot hurt right?”

“I did earlier yes. I might’ve sprained it.” You sigh. “It feels fine now.”

“Hmm… that’s no good. Lets wait until it lightens up then. I can’t risk you injuring yourself further now.”

“I-if you want you could go ahead. It might be better so you’re not stuck out here too.” You say. He seems upset at the idea.

“Absolutely not. You could freeze to death. Lets stay here where I can keep you safe.” His words stuck out to you. Is it possible that he meant that in a more romantic context? Are you just overthinking it?

“I-I’m getting rather tired though.. I almost just want to sleep..” you said. Your eyelids felt a bit heavy, he was just… so warm, his body pressed up against you.. his arms around you… you hoped you would feel this again.

“I’ll keep watch. Just rest a little bit.” He said. As you drifted off to sleep you noticed a light kiss on your head.

“Cute.” He mumbled to himself.

Dehya

“Ugh! I’m so sick of the sand.” You and Dehya were taking shelter inside a cave, you were a professor at the Akademiya, you came out to the desert to study the giant ruin machines so you could do a lesson on them only to get caught in a sandstorm. Lucky for you, Dehya who you had hired, was well versed in the desert.

“Well that’s what you get. Lucky that you hired me, I’m certain you would have never found this cave.” She grinned proudly.

“I’m certain i’d be dead with that stupid wenut poking around. Ugh, what do those things even eat?!” You shook your clothes to get the sand out.

“Idk I’m not the scholar here so.” Dehya grinned.

“Hey my expertise is in machinery.. not oversized worms with no business of existing!” You fussed over your hair, to your shame, it hadn’t survived well. The hair tie you wore must’ve broken while you were busy trying to block the sand out of your eyes. “Ugh.. so much sand in my hair too… this is so unbecoming of me.”

“Unbecoming? You’re a scholar not a model.” Dehya said.

“Thanks.” You said sarcastically. “But I need to look professional and well put together. I’m not the prettiest sure but I should at least look like I am a scholar and not some rat drowing in sand!” You found your hair had also knotted together in what you horrifically realized was a huge mess. Not even your hairbrush could save you.. “oh god…” you winced as you got your hairbrush out, it felt painful to brush it out.

“Yikes.. let me help you there.” Dehya said. You turned to her.

“How is your hair fine!” You felt ashamed.

“I dunno, I wasn’t trying to fight the wind back there, but its really not that bad. Here just sit infront of me and I’ll help.”

“Well.. i guess you’re the expert on desert stuff.. do you encounter this problem alot?” You asked, obliging by her request.

“Oh definitely. Alot of eremite gals use praids or tie their hair up in some way. I could put yours in one if you like?”

“If any of it is salvageable that would be nice. You’re actually rather smart yourself.. you would do well in the ak-“

“Nope.”

“Why? I’m not trying to insult your job, especially right now, but I really think you could do alot more in your life!”

“Then who would you hire for all your little adventures then?” She said.

“Well.. there’s dozens of eremites, i could find another. I just think you have potential that you can’t explore in this position.” You sighed.

“I know you mean well but honestly I like it. There’s no way I’d give up the thrill of adventure and fighting for studying some stupid class like.. calculus.” Her voice carried a confidence you envied. But you noticed her hands were quite skilled, you didn’t feel any pain as she brushed out your knots.

“I’ll give you that, math isn’t the most interesting. But even just like reading some books might do you good! I’m not asking you to become my student I just think maybe investing in a library card could be useful!” You felt at ease strangely. You had been a regular of Dehya’s. Mostly because she was the most trustworthy by review, and also she was a woman. You didn’t exactly want to travel alone with just a man you didn’t know. And also she was rather pretty to look at.

“That is actually a interesting suggestion. I might take you up on that sometime.” She smiled. “Say, how come you always pick me? I heard from the other Eremites that you even canceled a whole trip you had planned because I wasn’t available.”

“W-well..” you blushed. “I just trust you the most. These conditions aren’t exactly easy for me and I’d rather traverse dangerous terrain with someone I trust and someone I know. Besides it gives me the opportunity to not rely on my colleagues’ decisions. I’m not as social as you might think.”

“You sure that’s it? You’re willing to sacrifice papers and lessons just because you don’t trust the other eremites? You know we didn’t start off besties here, what made you pick me in the first place? And it not like its just because I’m a girl, there’s plenty of female eremites out there well versed in combat like myself. I could recommend them to you.”

“I- just.. have a preference for you. Nothing wrong about that is there? Its more mora in your pocket so why should you care?” You pouted. She chuckled behind you.

“Easy now. I didn’t mean to sound like I was complaining. Its nice seeing how loyal you are to me.” You just feel her cocky smirk from behind. But your ego was quickly forgotten as she finished brushing out your knots, now starting to braid them. “If it does any good, you are my favorite customer. That and the traveler but its not like they hire me or anything. I’ve rather enjoyed our adventures. Maybe you should join the eremites~”

“Absolutely not! If i could handle it on my own then i would. Y-you do realize that- oh.. I see what you’re doing.” You sigh.

“See, its not fun when people question your career choices. Much less trying to push their own onto you. This is my dream job, I don’t need to take a class to perfect it.”

“Well to be honest I just would like to see you more that’s all.” You blurted out. Dehya realized you had been blushing this whole time. She seemed a bit surprised. “Those other scholars at the Akademiya are most old geezers with flies in their head reiterating the same sentiments with little flexibility. I much rather talk to you even if you don’t understand those concepts. I just��� like to be around you that’s all.”

“Woah. That makes scholarly life alot less appealing you know?”

“I’m not trying to recruit you here! I just.. wanted a excuse to see you around more.” Silence fell between you two. You worried if you had been too open then, letting her know how you felt… “Y-you know there’s talk from Faruzan about opening a school or class in the desert. I think you could help with that.”

“That’s actually rather interesting. Whats her plan?”

“Oh just literacy. Its so they can read more complex topics. Oh and Kaveh was working on a library for the Aaru village too. I wanted to ask what books you think would appeal to the desert kids?” You added.

“Maybe if you have some textbooks that’d be easy or-“

“I mean like fiction. What did you want to learn about as a kid?” You said looking at her. You were a bit surprised to see such a fond look in her eyes. It made your heart thump ad your confidence wavered.

“Well.. I wanted to- hey.. the storms over.” Dehya said looking out at the entrance. You almost forgot about the storm.

“Oh.. maybe we should spend the night here just in case.” You said.

“You just want to keep talking don’t you.” Dehya smiled.

“Well yes. But also my feet are killing me still.”

Shenhe

“Its getting cold out, we need to seek shelter immediately.” Shenhe said. But it was only a light downpour. You felt a little whimsical.

“Oh its such a pretty sight. Rain in the snow.. oh I love it.” You quickly got out your camera to take a few photos. “There will be more icicles soon. Ooh it would make fo such a go- OH?” You quickly were picked up by Shenhe as she located a nearby hilichurl camp.

“Wait but what about- wait why is it empty.” You noted how old it looked. Dust collecting, various masks strewn about, broken. Shenhe set you down letting you looked around.

“I use this camp as my training grounds. Unfortunately they stopped trying to claim this area. But we should be aboe to take shelter in here.” She said. You were surprised by how nice it looked. Hay bedding, animal skins. You could easily make a bed with this. The roof did leak but it would do.

“I still think we could find somewhere better. The rain isn’t so ba-“ you were startled back into her arms as lightning struck not too far away. “Okay lets go inside..” you started to bunch up the hay together into a nest almost. Shenhe watched with curiosity.

“What is that for?” She asked.

“I’m making a bed. You can join if you would like. Its good to keep warm.” You said, bringing the animal skins to use as blankets. She joined you as you two cuddled in the makeshift bed.

“It is quite warm actually. You’ve done well.” Shenhe’s praise had you beaming with pride.

“Ah thank you… you don’t have to be so close you know?” You said.

“Do you want me to move away?” She seemed confused.

“Actually its fine. I don’t mind it.” You said.

“I’m getting rather tired.. you’re quite warm actually.” Shenhe pulled you in closer catching you off guard.

“O-oh. That’s good. I think we can take a rest. So long as No hilicurls come by.”

“They won’t. I laid out those masks to warn them not to come back. Its been months since any have returned.” She mumbled. “I should move them then. They make for good practice.”

“Lets not talk about murdering hilichurls right now please?” You asked.

“Right… so.. do you sleep outside often? You seem to know what to do.”

“No but I know that the barn cats use the hay in my family’s cellar for their bedding. I figured it must be comfortable.”

“You were right. This is quite nice.. I can imagine this bed would make many cat’s comfortable.” She said. You smiled at her imagination.

“Thank you.. I think… i may rest my eyes for a bit.. the sound of the rain outside is luring me to sleep, but im still nervous.”

“I’ll keep watch then. You get some rest.” She said. You smiled resting your head on her chest.

Zhongli

You were traveling with Zhongli, a funeral consultant on your way to Chenyu valley. But you two ran into a problem…

“I didn’t know it could rain like that here!” You felt spooked as you clung to the much taller male. “I just hope it doesn’t start to thunder ei-“ on cue lighting struck the bridge right infront of you.

“Lets find shelter then. Stay close to me. We don’t want to get separated here of all places.” His eyes scanning across the landscape. He spotted a cave and immediately pointed. “There. We should find some shelter there.”

You two quickly retreated into the cave, you silently thanked rex lapis that caves were abundant in this area.

“Lucky for us, there isn’t anyone else here.” He said as you two came in deeper. Finding it empty and relatively dry.

“I-its a shame we can’t make a fire. There isn’t any wood in here..” you lament. “I’m cold.”

“There seems to be a bit of a coal deposit here actually.” He said, poking at what just looked like a splot on the wall. “Here, I’ll retrieve it.” Using his Geo abilities he was able to crack some out of the wall. Putting it in s pile as you watched with fascination.

“You’re very well versed in rocks for a funeral director. Is it your geo vision or just your knowledge.” You asked.

“A mix of both, I’m quite well versed in the topic yes, but my vision does help.” He said. “Now we can use two rocks to make a spark.. we should be careful as coal leaves alot of smoke.” You took two stones and rubbed them against each other, looking to make a spark. It worked and a small flame started to grow.

“Excellent. We’ll stay here until the weather dies down.” You said, instinctively sitting next to him, leaning on him. He seemed a bit surprised. “O-oh sorry i didn’t mean to-“

“Oh it’s quite alright. It might help to cuddle for warmth. I hope you don’t mind.” He said politely.

“I-i don’t mind.” You said. His hand wrapped around you, not too tight but not to loose either. It felt rather nice like this. Your cheeks were tinted with red as he pressed himself against you.

“Are you comfortable right now?” He asked. You nodded. Maybe you should consider traveling with him a little more.

Kaeya

“You do know you’ll need more firewood than that.” Kaeya teased as you attempted to start a fire. You sighed.

“Then get some. Don’t just sit here and look pretty.” You grumbled as you rubbed the sticks together. He chuckled.

“Right right. And it was you who insisted they didn’t need a second jacket.” He smiled, you wore his cloak as he had offered it earlier.

“Well I didn’t expect us to stay the night here.”

“You should know a trip to dragonspine isn’t a one day venture. But with that out of the way, I’ll get some firewood.” He said leaving briefly. Just as he left you got the fire going. You smiled.

“See! I told you i could- oh right.” You said. Feeling his absence quickly. You huddled by the fire as you waited for him to come back.

It felt like he was gone forever when he finally came back. Arms full of firewood.

“Miss me?” He said as he noticed the frozen tears on your cheeks.

“No.. just come over here… you’re probably cold..” you said. Patting the ground besides you.

“Oh now you want to cuddle.” He smiled as he took your offer. Setting the firewood aside.

“You scared me you know..” you said.

“Well I just wanted to gather as much wood as possible. That way we can make it through the blizzard. These blizzards can last very long you know?” He snickered as you jolted.

“Don’t scare me like that!” You grumbled.

“I’m not trying to scare you. Just preparing you for the worst. Don’t worry, we have plenty of rations. And this fire is quite strong. You did a good job.” He smiled drawing his hand across your shoulder.

“Thanks..”you grumbled. You scooted closer to him as you felt a chill run down your spine. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy like this. But you do realize we still haven’t made it halfway to Albedo’s office right?” He said. You stared at him with a look of defeat.

“Ugh! I’m never going to make it!” You whined.

“Oh you’ll live.” He chuckled. “I’m here afterall. I’ll drag you up that mountain if I have to.”

“Well… I guess its good I have you then. I’d probably be dead by now if I went by myself.”

“Oh please, Jean would never send a new night here alone. But your gratitude is appreciated.” He smiled.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #domestic fluff #diluc x you #wlw #diluc x y/n #shenhe x reader #chevreuse #chevreuse x reader #dehya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya x reader #zhongli x reader

[pearlsinmyhair]

kinktober day one - “use me”

miguel ohara

miguel is stressed by nature and by profession, and the man is stubborn. he refuses to address his own mental and physical state, no matter the amount of concern. but how can he resist you, a pretty little thing, so eager to help him?

content: nsfw (duh). dirty talk. use of ‘slut.’ dom/sub dynamics. sex on desk. oral (fem!receiving). unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids.) creampie. cum eating. spanking. clit slapping.

———————————————————————————————

miguel was stressed. intensely, inescapably, and completely. every nerve was fried, and his patience had gone down the drain a few hours ago.

he knew how he must look to you; an animal, with his hair a mess from running his hands through it, his eyes bloodshot from staring at screens for far too long, his body trembling slightly from the sheer amount of caffeine he’s consumed.

and yet you offered-

“what?” he questioned, looking at you over one hunched shoulder.

“use me.” you reiterated.

you leaned against the desk opposite him, the one without any keyboards or screens.

how were you so damn casual about it? with your relaxed shoulders and easy presence, your sweatpants low on your hips and your hair carelessly styled. you looked at him like you just asked them out to lunch, not about this.

“and how exactly” he dared to ask, turning to face you and mirror your posture. “would i use you?”

and your smile was slow, spreading across your face like you knew you had him. and you did, especially as you lifted yourself to sit on the dark surface that you leaned on.

“you’re stressed.” you said as he took a step closer. “and you refuse to sleep, or eat, or relax. you won’t find an outlet, no matter how much everyone begs you to. so…”

his hands found the soft flesh of your thighs, allowing his claws to just barely puncture the fabric of your sweatpants to prick at your skin. if he hadn’t taken rapture earlier, he wouldn’t have caught the soft hitch of your breath as his palms settled against your legs.

“…use me.”

he allowed himself to lean down to you, dragging his nose along your jawline. you tilted your head for him, and he hummed his approval. “this isn’t going to be soft, cariño.” he murmured, and he felt you exhale against his ear. “if you want me to let off steam, i’m going to do it without restraint.”

his canines dragged along the smooth skin of your throat, and goosebumps rose along your body.

“are you ready for that?”

one hour less and he would have turned you away with a scoff and a glare. one hour less and he would have fired you on the spot.

but like miguel said before, he was stressed.

he watched as your hands gripped there edge of the table, and he was close enough to count each heartbeat before you replied.

“of course.”

the sound that came from his throat was primal, and his hands moved to your hips to hold you still as his mouth pressed to yours. you let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and he gripped you harder.

if he hadn’t been shaking, he would have put more effort into his foreplay. but the sounds you were making as his teeth nipped at your collarbone sent liquid heat to the pit of his stomach, and he could feel the warmth between your legs as he pressed against you.

he found the divot between your ass and the back of your thighs and tugged you forward, and your feet thumped against the floor as you skipped off the desk. miguel slipped his hands down against your hips, pulling your sweatpants down with them. he groaned at the sight of your clothed sex, nearly shivering as he sunk to his knees and caught sight of a small wet spot.

“what are you-“ you managed before he ripped your panties down your legs and licked a line from your dripping entrance to your clit, closed his lips around the bundle of nerves, and sucked.

your moan was broken and pitchy, hands flying from the edge of the desk to his hair as you bucked into his mouth, already trembling from the stimulation.

miguel’s hand delivered a sharp smack to your ass when you bucked again, and you gasped and jumped against him. he pulled away slowly, lapping at your clit as he tipped his head back to look up at you.

“shouldn’t i be sucking you off?” you asked, voice breathy as he mouthed at your inner thigh before sucking a hickey into it. your hands dropped from his hair to his shoulders, but a glare from him sent your fingers back to curling into the strands.

“you asked me to use you, correct?” he said as he rested his chin right below your belly button. “so i’ll use you how i want, and you’ll take it until it’s too much.” he smacked your butt again, and you nodded.

he rested his hands against the back of your thighs, slowly pulling you close once more. “safe word?” he uttered, his breath fanning against your wet pussy.

“mercy.”

miguel pulled back with a sharp look. “you think you’re funny?” he said after a second of disbelief.

and you smirked down at him, eyeing him cockily from above. “oh, i think i’m hilarious.”

it was all it took for him to shove you forward and suck at your clit again, nipping it with his sharp canines as he learned your reactions. he lapped your release like a man devastated with thirst when you finally came, and he pushed you back up onto the desk as he rose.

“you okay?” he asked as he circled your entrance with his pointer finger, and you nodded. he slapped your cunt, earning a yelp. “words, cariño.”

“yes. yes, i’m okay, just put it in-“

he slipped his finger into you with ease, and you whined as he found your g-spot, stroking it as he pushed inside of you slowly. the first finger was easy, but he met some resistance with the second.

“have you done this before?” he asked, watching your expressions carefully. your eyes darted up from where his fingers disappeared inside of you to his face. “i haven’t in a while. it’s just been my fingers for the past…year?” you managed through gasps as his thumb worked slow circles against your clit.

he smirked. no wonder you were on the edge just with his fingers, miguel thought as he studied your hands. you hadn’t had something bigger than your digits for a while.

when he judged you properly prepped, he pulled you closer, rubbing the length of his dick along your pussy to gather your slick. lyla had reverted down to her basic mechanics, refusing to even make herself known in this situation. instead, the lower part of his suit disappeared without so much as a word from him.

the tip passed without resistance, but you cling after the first few inches. miguel pressed his hands to your lower back, pulling you to him as your nails dug into his back. you hid your face in his shoulder as he bottomed out, and he sat there until you managed a soft “ready.”

miguel had promised no restraint. and he never went back on his promises.

his thrusts were hard and bruising, the slap of skin on skin harsh in the quiet of his cavernous office. but the moans and cries from your mouth reassured him, and he found your second orgasm quick.

miguel pulled out and flipped you around, pressing your chest against the cold metal as he bit down on your shoulder.

“you like that?” he groaned against your back as he spanked you. “taking me so well, little slut. being such a good little stress reliever.”

you babbled, hands blindly gripping for purchase along the desk. miguel grabbed your wrists and held them at your lower back, ramming into you harder.

“fuck, yes, right there-“ you gasped, and he sped up as your cunt clenched around him.

one of his hands reached around your front to grab at your throat, pulling you up so that your back pressed against his chest.

you screamed at the new angle, walls spasming as the tip of his dick pushed against your cervix. he rested his chin over your shoulder as the pressure in both your cores finally burst, and he came deep inside of you.

he sat there for a few moments, allowing both your breaths to even out as you came down from the high of your orgasms.

miguel pulled out of you, his cum dripping down your legs as you both slid down to the floor.

“you okay?” he murmured, not for the second time though your little rendezvous.

“fantastic.” you hummed as he pressed his mouth to your shoulder. you exhaled shakily as his thumb gathered up the line of release down your inner thigh, bringing it to your mouth.

you rested your head back against his chest, fluttering your tear-clumped lashes at him as you sucked his cum off his finger.

oh, he thought as he pressed a kiss to your lips, was he going to enjoy using you.

his little coworker, his slut on call, his pretty little stress reliever.

this was going to be fun.

———————————————————————————————

taglist: @messylustt @cultrise @ya-boi-v @rainbowsocks @belladonna-is-alive @deobipabooo @m4dyy @bobtheoriginal-blog @huyyyyyyyt @sillygardeneggperson @jakelockleysdoll

#kinktober 2023 #—pearls kinktober #@kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x reader

[sprout-fics]

Got dragon!Price stuck in my head. He's made a nest before hand all just for you with the finest things surrounding you. Showing you he's a provider and will take care of you, not knowing you couldn't care about that as all you've ever wanted is him to claim you over and over again. Not till he catches the scent of your arousal every time he's close to you. And he's barely out of your sight since "kidnapping" (rescuing) you.

You sense the sulfurous, smoky presence of him before you hear him.

He’s heavy in your thoughts, your lover, as wind echoes through the halls and he descends into the mountain cavern, his huge wings spread broad to slow his descent. It tinkles the wind chimes in your chamber, where you raise your head from the pile of luscious silks and pillows he’s laid you upon. The chimes sing his arrival in delicate notes, a gentle stirring of the air broken by the long, winding corridors long since carved into the mountain he calls home. There’s a distant noise as smoke evaporates from his massive form and he once more transforms into the shape you are more familiar with, the one that holds you close and purrs you to sleep as golden eyes watch your dreams. 

It takes little time for him to find you, his form bare as his feet pace against the stone floor. You shift where you lay, draped in jewels and fine fabrics he’s gathered for you from the far reaches of the kingdom. It pleases him to see you adorned in his treasures, you, his most prized possession. 

The sturdy, rigid outline of him stands in your vision, taking in the sight of you. A bare leg dangles from the mountain of pillows upon which you sprawl, glittering gems hanging heavy between your breasts, and you see the way his eyes flash as you shift, stretch, and offer him a coy, inviting smile. 

“Husband.” You purr, extending an arm in invitation into this nest he’s built you, and Price growls, low, pleased at the sound of your voice. He crawls up the length of your body, and you admire him as he does, from the taut muscles of his shoulders to the softness of his belly and the hardness which stirs below it. 

“My bride.” He murmurs, voice raspy with ashes of the fire, horns protruding from his cropped hair and a smile tugging beneath his beard. 

“I missed you.” You supply as his lips descend to your skin, feeling reverent, as if he is the mortal worshiping at the altar of a god and not you. Yet there’s a possessiveness to his answering rumble that has you arch into him, lust stirring in your smoky senses. 

“I can tell, love.” He replies, and a hand slides under your gown to the peak of your thighs, dips into the folds of you where slickness greets him. His thumb traces against your hooded bundle of nerves and you whine at him, reach your arms to wrap around his broad neck and drag him closer. 

“Claim me.” You murmur without preamble, voice a soft, wanting sigh against his flesh. 

Price only chuckles.

“Soon.” He promises, and then descends, his lips tracing a burning trail against your skin, marking every inch he can find until the skirt of your gown bunches around your waist and his long forked tongue licks a broad stripe up the center of you. You cry out a gasping little sound, hands instantly reaching for his horns and hips canting up into his mouth. 

“I want to taste you.” He breathes against your folds, chindipping into the wetness of you. “Want you to come across my tongue, princess.”

A smile tugs at your lips, something akin to a laugh at that. Yes, the princess, stolen away by the fearsome dragon, held captive by a terrifying monster until some daring hero comes to rescue you.  You won’t let anyone take you, not from him. Not when he’s yours.

#captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #john price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #reader insert #thursday night thots #on a monsterfucker roll here tonight apparently