#so he appreciates the happier memories he gets back

[aswefindourwayback]

Pit In My Gut, In The Shape Of You

Authors Note: this is an AU where spence is a song writer 😀 i know, crazy. but whatever. this does have a part 2 so lmk if that’s something yall want to see. also this part one isn’t really focused on spence, its more focused on the girl. part 2 would be more spencer focused. hope yall like it! feedback is always appreciated.

wc: 5373

Warnings: stupid man (not spence) who says some mean things

They were best friends. Everyday, they were stuck to each other's side. Whether they were out on adventures, or just at home watching the worst rom-coms ever made. They never got sick of eachother. She always feared that those who loved her, would eventually grow to hate her and get annoyed by her. That even the little things she did, would result in them leaving. Because they have before. But he never left. He stayed by her side for 3 summers.

But then something changed. He stopped asking her about her hobbies, her interests, her days. He stopped kissing her goodnight. He stopped bringing her lilies, her favorite flower. And one day, he just seemed to stop loving her. Then one day, he just left without a word. All he left in their two bedroom apartment was a note saying “I can’t do this anymore”.

She had noticed the change in his behavior, but she thought it was just a rough patch that most couples go through. She thought everything would go back to normal. She thought if she tried enough, he would stay. She stopped going on tangents about anything and everything. She took on less hours at work to try and cook for him everyday. She tried to make plans with him. But he wouldn’t give her the time of day. She wondered what she did wrong. Was it something she did, something she said. Did she talk too much? Did he start to think her obsession with things was weird? Or did he simply just fall out of love with her? What could she do to change and bring him back.

The day he left, was the day her whole world fell apart. She quit her job, stopped taking care of herself, and stopped seeing her friends and family. Those around her grew worried, but there was nothing they could do. They couldn’t get her to eat, bathe, or even open the door to their her apartment.

2 years pass and Elaine has managed to move on. Now she has a new amazing job that she loves and some new friends. She moved out of the two bedroom apartment she once shared with her past lover, and moved into a one bedroom apartment that she absolutely adores. She has decorated it to be somewhat like her dream apartment. She’s got bookshelves lining a whole wall, the bookshelves filled with all of her favorite books and some memorabilia she’s gathered from traveling and from sharing memories with friends and family. The rest of her walls are filled with posters and pictures of things from her interests to friends and family.

She still fears that if she puts herself out there, that people will start leaving her again, and she doesn’t think she can go through the heart break again. She has closed herself off in some ways. She stopped sharing her interests with people, when asked about her day, she keeps it to a minimum. If she saw a rat on the subway on her way to work, she would say so. But she would refrain from talking about how it was the size of her arm and that it was carrying 2 slices of pizza on its back. Something else that she had started doing that she hadn’t noticed was that she started dressing in more bland colors. No more rainbows, sparkles, odd patterns, but more basics in black, white and beige. All the colors and patterns can come off too strongly to some people, better to keep the brightness to a minimum. But she is happier now. Happier than she was 2 years ago at least.

Elaine now works at the biggest music production company in the country, hoping that one day, she will be able to touch people's hearts with her music. One day, as she is on the way to a coffee shop during her break, she sees him. She sees his brown curly hair and his favorite jacket, waiting in line to order his favorite, an iced latte and a slice of banana bread… Zeke.

As she stands and stares in the doorway, she sees someone walk up to him and wrap an arm around his waist. She’s blonde and absolutely gorgeous. Probably the most beautiful woman that she’s ever seen. Whilst she examines the woman, she notices something on the woman's ring finger. A ring. An engagement ring. Simple, but elegant.

Elaine debates whether she should leave or stay and order her coffee. Before she can make her decision, he turns and spots her. He stares at her. She can’t seem to read his face. The woman whispers something into his ear and he looks down at his fiance and laughs. He turns back around to order their drinks.

Elaine stood there, motionless, wondering did he forget me? Is it that easy to forget me? What we had? Or did he just not want to acknowledge me? He’s obviously moved on, so should I. Maybe I should start seeing someone.

It was now Elaine’s turn to order, she stepped up to the cashier and ordered her usual, an iced coffee and a cheese danish for herself, as well as an americano and blueberry muffin for her coworker, to go. Once she paid, she stepped to the side and waited for them to call her name, indicating that her order was ready. As she waited, she tried her best to not acknowledge him. She didn’t look in his direction and didn’t stand near them. But he kept taking small glances at her. She could see this out of the corner of her eye and didn’t understand why he was doing this. Was it to see if she was jealous, if she was still heartbroken? Maybe he was trying to get a rise out of her.

Her name was called by one of the barista’s and she picked up her order and walked out the door as fast as she could. As soon as Elaine stepped out the door, it felt like she could finally take the breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. Before walking back to work, she looked back at him, but he wasn’t looking. Instead, he was pulling the woman, his fiance, close and kissing her, as if he knew Elaine was watching, wanting to make her feel some way.

As soon as she got back to work, Elaine dropped off the muffin and coffee at her coworkers desk. She was making her way back to her desk when her coworker, spencer, the one she had bought a muffin for, walked up to her and told her that their boss wished to speak to her. spencer gave her a shy smile as he walked away. Elaine raced to her boss’s office where she was told that she had to write a song for one of her favorite artists. She was told to write a ballad about being heartbroken, a song that would make people's hearts sink when they listen to the song. She told her boss that it was no problem, not wanting to be a disappointment. She immediately got to writing. She sat in one of the small studios in the building and began writing. She wrote lyrics as she played various chords on the piano. She worked for hours on end until the sun began to rise again. She hadn’t eaten or slept, but she believed she had written one of her favorite songs yet.

Once she had finished writing the song, she noticed it was 5 am. Elaine decided to race home quickly to refresh and then come back to the studio to show her boss the song she had just written, to get her boss's input. To say she was nervous was an understatement. As much as she loved her job, she hated having to share her work, for fear it would not be well received. She fears that the songs she works on aren't enough. But she pushed through her doubts, because at the end of the day, if she doesn’t believe in herself, then no one will.

She played the song for her boss, and they loved it. They told her to immediately record a demo of it and send it to the client. With that, she got to work. Stepping into one of the studios, the girl found spencer, the blueberry muffin lover. She immediately raced to him with excitement, telling him about how their boss loved the song she had written and wanted her to record a demo for it and send it to her favorite artist.

“That’s amazing! I’m not surprised honestly, you’re an amazing songwriter and musician. It was only a matter of time before your talent was recognized.” he smiled softly at her.

With the help of a producer, she recorded the demo and had it sent to the client, who absolutely loved it and wanted it to be the first single off their new album. Elaine was ecstatic because not only did she love it, but so did her boss and her favorite artist. Soon after, the client came to the recording studio in the building and started recording the song with the help of the girl and a few producers.

Once they had finished recording the song, the client stood there in silence. Elaine felt like she was melting in that studio, full of people she respects and admires. What of it turned out that they didn’t like the song anymore? That they didn’t want it anymore? What if they wanted someone else to write a song for them?

Finally, the client spoke, looking right at Elaine “You know, I don’t think I’m doing this song justice. I think you should record it, properly, and release it under your name. You’ve got an amazing voice and incredible song writing skills. I don’t think it’s fair of me to take this song from you.”

Elaine thought she was being messed with but after a few moments, realized that the client was being serious. It took a bit of convincing, but Elaine agreed to releasing this song under her own name. Of course she was shitting bricks at the thought of putting herself out there as a singer, but it was something she was excited for. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was on the right path.

Leading up to the release of her first single, there were countless meetings and dinners with important people. People who had power in the music industry. So many contracts that had to be signed. She began to doubt whether it was something she was worthy of. All these people were taking a big risk in working with her. What if she turned out to be a waste of time, money, and effort.

One specific day, while she worked with lawyers and managers on getting her new career started, she stepped out of her office building to take a breather and gather her thoughts. But, as she does, she sees him, Zeke. He’s standing there with his big brown eyes looking directly at her. They stood there staring at each other, 8 feet apart, not saying a word.

After what seems like hours, he walks to her, not breaking eye contact. Her heart starts racing, wondering why he’s here, why he’s walking towards her. As soon as they are in arm's reach of each other, he hands her an envelope. She reluctantly takes it from his hand and sees her name written on the front, in beautiful cursive.

“It’s an invitation… to my wedding. It’s in a few months and I want you there. I know I kinda left abruptly and you’re probably pissed at me, but I hope between now and the wedding, we can reconnect and be happy for eachother. I mean I’m engaged now and you’re obviously seeing someone.”

She’s taken back by this comment, why does he think I’m seeing someone?

He sees the confusion on her face “At the coffee shop, you ordered two drinks and two pastries. I assumed that you were getting it for your partner.”

When he says this she thinks shit but she also thinks, since he’s moved on, she should pretend that she has too.

She tells him “Yeah, I’m seeing someone. I met him here at work a couple years ago.”

“Great, I’m glad we could both move on and be happy for eachother. I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat or a coffee sometime. We can catch up and reconnect?”

She agreed. She was curious as to why he left that day. It had been in the back of her mind for the past 2 years. Why not take this chance to find out? They set a time and date to meet and then said their goodbyes to each other.

For the next week, Elaine worked and worked, trying to get her new life in order. She made her way to the coffee shop they had agreed to meet at. As soon as she walked in, she saw him sitting at a table in the corner. He smiled and waved her over. She walked over and sat down, noticing that he had already ordered for the both of them. In front of her, on the table, sat her favorite drink, but it was hot. She hated hot drinks. Even when it was freezing outside, she always ordered cold drinks. A pastry sat next to the drink, it was a pastry that she’d never tried.

“I remember these were your favorites. I’m not sure if they still are but hopefully you still like them.”

“Yeah, thanks” she says with a smile. She hated that she still loved him, after all this time. Even after he got her coffee order wrong and claimed it was her favorite.

They sat there in silence wondering what to talk about.

“So uh, how have you been since… you know” Zeke says, giving her a toothy smile.

“Since you left me out of the blue? Yeah I’m doing pretty good” she says with a laugh

He lets out a chuckle

“I’ve got a new job, new apartment, new partner. I’m doing great. How about you?”

“Yeah, I’ve been good. I got a big promotion, new house, and I’m getting married to an amazing woman.”

When he says this, she feels her heart sink into her stomach.

“Tell me about her.” she says

“Well, she is a nurse. During her free time, she volunteers at an animal shelter. She’s constantly bringing home stray animals as well, hoping she can find them new homes. One of the things I love about her. She uh, she also loves painting. She’s constantly painting something new. We have about 20 of her paintings around the house.” he says with a smile on his face. “Tell me about your guy. What’s he like?”

Elaine panics as he says this. She doesn’t have a guy. So she thinks of someone she could describe, spencer.

As she begins speaking, she smiles “Um, well, he’s a songwriter. We met at work when he was asked to write a song and he needed some help. We sort of hit it off from there. He plays the guitar like it's no one's business. But he can play so many other instruments like the bass, drums, piano, and quite surprisingly, the banjo.” She laughs when she says this, thinking about how absurd it is that spencer can play the banjo. Not only can he play it, but he plays it so well, he might as well be a professional banjo player, if that’s even a thing.

Elaine continues “He loves getting up early in the morning and going to watch the sunrise. And he loves cooking. He makes the best pesto pasta. You should come over one day and try it.”

“I’d love to. We should all get together one day and have dinner. My fiance and I and you and your mate.”

“Yeah, just let me know when you two are free. spencer and I usually only busy during the day.”

“I’ll check with my fiance but yeah, I’ll let you know. What else have you been up to? Any gossip going around that you can share? I’m sure there’s a ton with the amount of celebrities you work with.”

She hates that he’s asking her this. She told him everyday that she did not feel comfortable sharing anything she heard at work, as it was not any of her business and she wouldn’t weather business being aired out either.

“Not so much gossip that I can share but, I am currently in the process of releasing a song.”

“Really?” he asks in a doubtful tone. “That’s… amazing! I know how much you wanted to be a big song writer, and now you’re gonna be a big star.”

“I’m not so sure about being a big star.”

“Oh no, believe me, you are gonna go on to play in stadiums and sell out tours, and win awards. Trust me, I know you, and I know how talented and hard working you are. You’re gonna be the biggest star anyones ever seen." His tone makes him seem like he’s being sarcastic.

She feels her cheeks turn red, not from flattery, but from anger. He never once said he believed in her. Never once stated that she was talented. Always changing conversation topics when she would bring up her work.

“Thank you. I’m really excited for this next step in my life.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’m glad we saw each other that day, and that we can talk now. And again, I’m sorry for leaving abruptly all those years ago. I’m not sure what exactly happened but, I’m sorry. I really am” he says. But she doesn’t believe him. She doesn’t think he’s actually sorry for his actions.

“It’s okay. Things happen. People change and there’s nothing we can do about it. Listen, it’s getting late and I should get going, but let me know when we can all sit down and have dinner.”

“Yeah of course, take care.”

They stand up and hug before leaving. As soon as they touch, she remembered what it felt like to be with him. She sank into his arms immediately, not wanting to let go. She hoped that time would freeze. That she could be his for even another minute. Maybe there’s a chance he could love her again. Maybe she could be enough this time. But eventually, they did part. They walked out of the shop together and then went different directions.

As soon as she got home, she panicked thinking I gotta talk to “my guy”. She picks up her phone and texts spencer, asking him to meet her in front of her apartment building in an hour. He fortunately agrees without questioning it.

An hour later, they meet at the front of her apartment building.

“Hey, What’s up? Are you okay? Why’d you need to meet so soon?” he says while walking up to her, worry was sketched into his face.

“Well you see, I may or may not have bumped into my ex who is now engaged and then talked to him and now he thinks that I’m also seeing someone when I’m not because I need him to think that I have moved on because he moved on and he invited me to his wedding and he needs to think I’ve moved on and that I’m happy.”

“I-. Seems like you’ve gotten yourself in quite the predicament.” he lets out a small laugh. “But why do you need me, specifically?”

“I need you to pretend that we’ve been dating for like a year and maybe, possibly, pretty please, be my date to their wedding.”

“Oh.” he laughs “I mean, sure. I’m down to help you out. Let me know what our story is so that I can get into character” he jokes

“Really? Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know this is a weird request and stuff.” She's beginning to regret her decisions and panics a bit.

“Yeah. I’m totally down. It actually sounds kind of fun, almost like I’m crashing a wedding but I'm not. I also sort of owe you for all the help at work. I wouldn’t have been able to get some of those projects done so quickly without you.”

“Oh, yeah that was no problem. But are you really sure you’re okay with helping me with this?”

“Most definitely. Text me the details when you can. We can begin scheming.” he tells her as he begins to walk away.

She tells him “Alright. Thanks spencer, I really appreciate it.”

As he turned around, Elaine swore she saw his eyes twinkle.

She goes back to her apartment and takes a breath and wonders what the hell did I get myself into.

A month has passed and it’s time for all four of them to have dinner together. They all meet at Elaine's apartment. Since Elainel has been working every hour of every day, her “partner” arrives at her apartment ahead of time so that he can prepare dinner for everyone.

Zeke and his fiance, Kayla, arrive and they all gather around the table and begin to eat. They all make small talk with each other, starting with whatever is on the news. As time went on, they all began to feel comfortable enough around each other to talk about what’s happening in their lives and how everyone knows each other. As far as Kayla knows, Zeke and Elaine were friends a few years back til work got in the way and they lost touch.

Throughout the whole dinner, Zeke tries to steal glances at the girl but she doesn’t give in. He tries grazing her leg with his foot but she ignores it. She doesn’t understand why he’s doing this. He’s happily engaged with a new job and new house.

spencer soon notices how uncomfortable Elaine is and tries his best to subtly reassure her. He pulls her chair a little closer to himself, not realizing that he’s just saved her from having the man touch her leg again. He asks her if she’s okay and she tells him she’s fine, giving him a smile that he can see right through.

They all talk and laugh all night until it’s time for Zeke and Kayla to go home. The couple say their goodbyes and leave.

spencer stays back and helps Elaine clean.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks her.

“Yeah, I just- It was just weird, the whole dinner thing.” she tries to brush him off. But he doesn’t let up.

“Don’t lie to me. I could see how visibly uncomfortable you were. Was he doing something to make you uncomfortable?”

“No, he didn’t do anything. Please just drop it. It’s been a long night.” she says, feeling exhausted.

“Fine. But this conversation isn’t over yet.” he says as he begins to walk out.

“Thanks.” she calls out to him before he can walk out the door. “For helping me and for cooking dinner tonight. I really appreciate it. The pesto was really good. And thanks for checking up on me, you didn’t need to.” she tries to put on a smile for him. But he can’t help but see right through it, and knows right now isn’t the time to push her to talk yet.

He simply nods and tells her “It was no problem. I’m always here if you need anything.” He smiles at her as he walks out the door. Telling her goodnight and that he’d see her the next day.

A few hours later, Elaine is in her apartment, getting ready for bed when all of a sudden, there’s a knock at her door. She walks to the door to see who could possibly be knocking at her door so late at night. She opens it to see Zeke. She wasn’t sure what to do. Not only did she feel exhausted, but she also wanted to know what was going through his head, why was he here?

She tells him to come in and asks him why he’s back at her apartment, especially so late at night.

He looks at her and just says “I love you. I never stopped loving you. I’ve loved you since the first night I met you. I never stopped loving you.”

She’s confused and angry. He left her, out of the blue, and immediately got into another relationship. He made her feel small and foolish. He made her feel unlovable. Unworthy.

She looks him in the eyes and asks “Then why did you leave?”

He holds her stare and says “Because I was an idiot. I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“You didn’t know what you wanted? Really? That’s your answer?”

“Well it’s not like it’s entirely my fault that our relationship ended the way it did. I mean, you had as much of a role in our demise as I did.”

“Excuse me?” She can’t believe him and his audacity “Tell me, what the fuck did I do that made our relationship end? Please, tell me. Go on then.”

“Well I mean, for starters, you were always talking about yourself. You know what, no, you just were always talking. Nonstop. It’s like you couldn’t stand the fucking silence or letting someone else talk. Like who cares if you saw a rat on the subway. It’s New York City for fucks sake. That shit happens everyday.”

“What else?” she asked, trying to keep the tears from falling.

“You are always so full of yourself. You really think you’re talented? You really think you can amount to something? You write songs. Woo fucking hoo, congratulations. Millions of people can do that, it doesn’t make you special. Just because you got given this new career, doesn’t mean shit. Talentless people make and release music all the time. It doesn’t mean shit. When are you gonna realize that you don’t matter. That people aren’t going to love you like I do.”

“Stop spewing that shit at me. You have no right to say that.”

“No, I have every right considering I wasted so many years on you.”

Eventually, she lost it. Tears were streaming down her face and she stopped holding back.

“I was a fool for loving you and thinking you loved me too. I did everything for you. Everything I did was all for you. But it didn’t mean shit to you. You kept me waiting for your love for years. And I acted like it was fine, like I was fine. I thought maybe someday you’d come around and that it would be something we laughed about when we were older. But I finally learned my lesson. I was naive and foolish to think you could ever love anyone but yourself.”

“Stop with the theatrics for god's sake. All you needed to do when we were together was give me space and be chill and hold your fucking tongue. I’m trying to give you a chance with me again. Just take me back and we can pretend this never happened. You can have a purpose in life again.”

She stares at him not knowing that to say or do. She can’t believe the audacity of this man to come into her home and say that shit. She can’t believe that at one point in time, she loved him.

“Go.” she tells him.

“What the fuck are you saying.”

“Go, get out. Get out of my fucking apartment, I never want to see you again.” Elaine said as she pointed towards the door.

He looked at her in disbelief “I walk out that door, then this is over for good.” He gestured between them, “You won’t get another chance.”

“Leave.”

“Fine, just remember that you did this to yourself. Have fun spending the rest of your life alone and unsuccessful.”

He walks out of the apartment and she slams the door shut.

The girl had a lot of regrets in her life. But her biggest regret was him. She regretted putting him on such a pedestal. For treating him like he was the sun. For years, she watched him as he tolerated her. She was a fool for him. She waited patiently, but she was never enough for him.

Her first single made it to the top 10 on the charts. Her schedule was booked full with interviews from various magazines and entertainment channels. Everyone kept asking her “When’s the album coming out?” “Who's the song about?” “Is there a potential love interest in your life right now?” “This man claims the song was written about him, is it true?”. Millions of questions, some that she refused to answer.

Her first few months of fame were chaotic to say the least. The only time she felt at peace and like she could be herself was when she was in the studio where she first wrote the song. Oftentimes, she would sit in that studio and just sit in silence, savoring the calm. As she’s about to close her eyes and take a little nap, she hears a knock on the door. She calls out to the person behind the door stating that they could come in. The door opens and she sees it’s her “partner”. She smiles as spencer walks in, taking a seat next to her.

“So, how’s fame treating you?”

“It’s pretty tiring if I’m honest.” she laughs

“It looks tiring.” he laughs with her. “Why are you here alone? Shouldn’t you be mingling with the big names right now? You know, out partying and stuff.”

“Not my kind of thing. How are things with you? What have you been up to?”

“Just the same old stuff. The only difference is that my projects are getting out slower now that my writing partner is big and famous.” he says jokingly

“Writing partner? Really? Since when did I get promoted to your “writing partner”?”

“I’m only joking. But yeah, it’s not the same around here without you.” he smiles softly at her “I never got to check up on you after that dinner. Are you okay?”

“Well I mean, I’m as okay as I can be. No one really teaches you what to do when a “good man” hurts you, so.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. He seems like an ass. ”

“You only met him once.” she stated, letting out a small laugh. She continues “Yeah, you know what’s crazy? He came back to my apartment a few hours after dinner.”

“Why? What did he want?”

“He just asked for me to take him back, and when I said no, he told me it wasn’t just his fault that we ended the way we did. He said it was also my fault. He also said some other fucked up shit but, it doesn’t matter. He was right.”

“Whatever he said, that night, don’t believe him. You guys ended because he’s a dick, not because of anything you did.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“No, I don’t. But I do know you. I know you Elaine. You are a talented songwriter. You are someone who never gives up. Someone who will put others before herself. Someone who is unstoppable. Someone who loves unconditionally and is also unconditionally loved. Someone who remembers everyone's favorite order at the coffee shop so that no one feels left out. You are worthy of all the good in the world. I know who you are. ”

She looks at him. Wondering if she really is worth it.

But she simply replies “Thank you.”

When she’s left with her own thoughts, Elaine starts to wonder, would she be able to sail through the changing ocean tides? Maybe. Would she be able to handle the seasons of her life? Maybe.

All she knows is that she’ll always believe in herself. Believe that there are people who love her. That support her. That appreciate her. That see her, for who she truly is.

Maybe one day.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x fem!readr

[embras-grace]

There’s a lot about Majiri that Ori has left to learn, it seems.

—

I like to think there’s moments that Ori remembers from human life at random times. Slowly coming back to them. And Reth is there to help(?) every step of the way

#palia #palia fanart #palia game #palia reth #palia oc #palia mmo #short comic #my art #Ori remembers quite a bit about humans but mostly how he died #so he appreciates the happier memories he gets back #then there’s Reth who 100% has bitten into a pumpkin like an apple #and makes one amazing pumpkin soup and pie!

[pandoraslxna]

Cocky!Aonung talking shit about splitting Human!Reader in two and pounding her small demon pussy, but all his control thrown out the window when he bottoms out due to how tight she is. Like it’s driving him fucking crazy and he’s holding back so much. AND READER KNOWS.

She pulls his hand off her hip and glides it over the bulge he’s making in her stomach🥴 she turns her head to look back at him “Your so big stretching me out so good.” She’s just teasing the fuck out of him (Size kink go brrr)

Sincerely,😩

Ruin me

adult Ao‘nung x female human reader

Words: 5k

Summary: Ao‘nung thinks he’s no match to any human males and could easily ruin you for all of your kind. Oh, was he wrong about that.

Warnings: explicit smut, size difference, size kink, belly bulge, Ao‘nung is drunk, dirty talk, slight degradation, cowgirl position, oral, switch!Ao‘nung

adult Ao‘nung art was made by the amazing @Cinetrix 🩵

Translations:

tawtute = human, sky person

paskalin = honey

naer = alcoholic drink

Music, the flickering light of the big fire, the stink of naer [alcoholic drink], some metkayina dancing around the fire place while others told stories that emitted great laughed from all around them. Not exactly something you wouldn’t find enjoyable. Normally. The music was okay, but maybe if the booze wasn’t as disgusting you could find it in yourself to get up and dance with Kiri, but sadly eywa hadn’t granted you this luxury. So you just had to suffer through it, sober and bored, while everyone else seemed to have the time of their lives.

Being the only human in the village sucks. It makes you miss home more than anything, and you can’t help but drift off into happier memories. The omatikaya knew how to celebrate. They also knew how to make you feel welcome. Here, you didn’t even dare raise to your feet and join the cheerful dancing. Not sober, though. Afraid of weird looks from the metkayina that had never before seen a demon this close and still hadn’t grown very fond of you, you decided to stay put for the night.

After a while, Lo‘ak nudges your side and shoves a drink under your nose, but you decline with a put-on smile. Then he shrugs and chucks the liquor by himself. His careless way of drinking the entirely too strong metkayina booze earns him a frown and playful claps to the back of his head by his older brother, and it’s the only thing emitting a slight giggle from you in hours.

So here you were. Stuck between your drunk childhood friends and their new friends, watching people drink and grind (they could call it dancing as much as they wanted, it was obscene grinding and nothing would persuade you of anything different).

The olo’eyktans eldest, Ao‘nung or whatever the brats name was, was standing in front of the group, giving a speech about whatever. You can barely hear the words droning from his mouth, too apathetic to translate them in your head. You lost interest in whatever he had to say a long time ago, not that it was ever there to begin with.

Oh, you could definitely do without Ao’nung. He wasn’t exactly an enemy, but certainly not a friend. Not to you, not after everything he did. Ao’nung was the type of person whose name was known in the village. You realized that on the very first day here. The type of person who everyone loves, mostly because they’re intimated of him. The type of person that could snap his fingers and woman would fall to their knees to please him.

Technically, he had never been rude to you. But that didn’t matter. He was a horrible person by pure association.

Ao’nung carried himself like he owned the island. Well, perhaps he would, someday. But leading and owning are two entirely different things. Something it seems he hasn’t realized just yet. So yes, he’s an asshole. A cocky asshole that has no idea what it’s like to be thankful. What it’s like to be appreciative. He gets everything handed to him on a silver platter and is constantly showered with admiration and attention. And the worst thing of all is, that he believes he could own you, too.

"Oh I could", Ao’nung chuckles, and it’s the first thing he said that you actually registered. You catch the way Neteyam rolls his eyes shortly after giving you the look, and it’s just now that you snap out of your thoughts and realize what was being said must’ve been about you.

"What?" You frown.

"Ruin her", Ao’nung says completely over your head. He’s grinning, talking about you as if you weren’t even here with them and it’s only making things worse. "I could ruin her for all of her kind with ease. Just look at her, she’s so tiny. She probably can’t even take all of it."

"Bro", Lo’ak makes a face of disgust before breaking out in laughter, "don’t be fucking weird."

You sigh, heavily, and then roll your eyes so hard it stings a tiny bit. Not this again, you think.

"What? You don’t think I can, little demon?"

It’s not the first time this topic was bought up by the metkayina man and you know for a fact that it won’t be the last. And what only makes this worse is, you can’t even blame his words on the alcohol flowing through his system. Yes, he’s clearly a bit tipsy, but it seems this has been a topic he frequently occupied himself with. Like a challenge. And maybe that’s what it was for him. Truthfully, you were something new to him. Something exciting. Certainly a new way to proof himself to be the best, a challenge to see if he could actually ruin you. To have the foreign little demon submit to him.

"Fuck off", you tell him with a smile, the english rolling off your tongue so smoothly it makes Lo’ak and Neteyam stifle a laugh to not give away what you just said.

Ao’nung, completely oblivious to your words, grins even wider. His tail wags behind his back and his ears perk up and god, he looks so much like a stupid little puppy waiting for a treat. And as much as watching Ao’nung embarrass himself further because he once again tried and failed to sweet talk his way into your pants, it was late and you only had so much patience left in you today.

So you got up, excused yourself, turned around and walked away, back in the direction of the little camp that was set up for you on your stay with the metkayina.

Except you were stopped just a moment later, by a hand around your wrist, spinning you around and nearly making your mask go flying.

"Whoah, whoah, where do you think you’re going?" Ao’nung laughed, just a bit too loud in his drunkenness. "Party isn’t over yet, paskalin."

"Let me go", you sighed, trying to wriggle yourself free, but his grip was like iron.

"Oh c’mon, loosen up a little. It’s like you don’t know how to have fun! Do I really have to teach you?” Ao’nung shook his head, making soft yet still very audible tsk-tsk sounds. He then lifted the cup in his hand and held it in your face. "Drink."

“No thanks", you politely pushed his hand away. "I prefer the omatikayas naer. It’s sweeter."

This made him laugh again, as if you had just made the best joke he’d heard in ages. “Oh, pretty, you don’t drink for the taste!” He emphasised the word taste, making it sound as if he was trying to explain something to a six-year old. The way your rolled your eyes at him made his face break into a sharp grin, and at this point you genuinely wondered if he thought rolling your eyes at someone was the human equivalent to flirting.

"Okay, no drinks, I get it. Then what do you say about us ditching the others and have some private fun instead, hm?"

"You’re drunk, fish lips, and you know my answer. It’s the same as always."

"And? C‘mon, I’ve been dying to get a taste of you", he chuckles, cocking his head as he looks down at you. "Let me show you how good I could make you feel. I mean what I said earlier, and you know it." For the last part, he leaned down enough so his lips brushed the lobe of your ear as he spoke lowly, "Don’t be shy, let me ruin that pretty little tawtute pussy. I know you want it."

God, he was so insufferable. You knew that you would probably never hear the end of it if you didn’t finally do something against this...

Glancing back over your shoulder, you watched the others lost in their drunken chitter chatter, too distracted to pay you both any mind. Good. "You know what? Fine. Let’s go somewhere else", you said with a shrug and to your amusement, looked back at Ao’nung at the exact moment his brain had processed what you had just said. There was a split second in which his face dropped in utter confusion, before he proudly puffed his chest out and licked his lips in anticipation.

Saying he was like putty in your hands was a fairly humble brag at this point. In truth, he was all yours– fully and completely yours. He just didn’t know it yet.

Watching his wide curious eyes scan the makeshift labs full of sky people technology was a sight better than anything you could’ve ever dreamed about. You love that the big cocky guy seems so out of place here, as he clumsily ducks under the doorframe to your bedroom. Closing the door behind him, you then feel his gaze on you. Ao‘nung doesn’t make much of an act around hiding the lust in his eyes as he watches you discard your mask to the little table next to the door, practically eye-fucking you already.

"Sit down", you tell him, biting the inside of your cheek to hide the amused smile wanting to spread on your lips. You want to play along for a while longer, just for the fun of it. "Straight to the point, huh?" Ao‘nung smirks as he does as instructed, the bed creaking under his weight. "I knew you wanted this just as much as I did."

You shake your head with a giggle as you step closer between his spread thighs. "You’re just so tall", you bat your pretty long lashes at him, talking in your most seductive voice as your hands reach out to wander from his board chest to his shoulders, before your arms encircle his neck. "It’s easier for me to do this when you sit down", you say in a hushed whisper, before pressing your lips against the corner of his mouth, then one more properly on-center. Ao’nung parts his lips, greedy and desperate, but you just ignore him, kisses his bottom lip and bites it softly. Bites it again, harder this time, raking with your teeth until he can feel it swelling up a bit.

And then you kiss him nowhere near chastely. A sigh escapes you and you let it ebb into a soft moan when he slips his tongue into your mouth. His mouth is messy and clever, but you’re making these little noises that are starting to turn him on so damn much, you just know he’s going dizzy with how good it is.

Ao‘nung groans into it, his hands immediately running up your thighs and backside, boldly grabbing a handful of each one of your ass cheeks. He‘s greedy in the way he kisses, taking control of all movements and you let him. For now. Until his mouth’s almost numb from kissing.

Ao’nung hasn’t done this much kissing since he was fourteen and had his first girlfriend, and he definitely hasn’t ever been kissed like you kissed. It’s the perfect mix of submissive, yet so filthy and dirty, it makes him as hard as a rock. Your ass fits right into his palms and he kneads the supple flesh, attempts to spread your cheeks and nearly rips the seams of your jeans.

He‘s so impatient, it would’ve been cute if it didn’t worry you that he would skip the foreplay completely and just pound you into the mattress. This guy needed some relief first, you decided.

After a while of sucking on each other tongues, panting against each others lips and kissing so hungrily, there’s spit running down his chin, you gently push yourself away with a hand on his chest. His eyes are still half lidded and his lips are parted once you’ve put some space between you both and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of his desperate state. He’s so easy, you think to yourself.

Your hands then wander from his tattooed chest, further down his toned stomach, skimming over his muscles and past the cord that holds his loincloth together. The sound of him sucking in a sharp breath once your palm runs over the outline of his hard cock makes goosebumps appear all over your body. God, no wonder he was acting so cocky all the time. Ao’nung was huge. More than just proportional to the rest of his body.

The look in your face must’ve given your thoughts away, because the metkayina man then grins and chuckles, "I told you, paskalin. I will ruin you."

A smile pulls at your lips at that and then you sink to your knees between his spread thighs. It takes both of your hands and a little help to get him out of his loincloth, but the effort is rewarded with a mouth watering sight.

Ao’nungs cock is long and thick, the same pretty cyan as the rest of his body, hard and flushed and standing upright, slowly dripping pre-cum. You could even see it twitch to the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat, wordlessly begging to be touched. You lick your lips at that, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed.

"You want to suck my cock, hm?" Ao‘nungs hand reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen bottom lip. "Think you can take it?"

"I can try", you say in hushed whisper, smiling up at him with those big doe eyes you know will drive him insane. His cock throbs heavily as you run your small hands up the inside of his thigh, then grabbing his length with both of them. He’s too thick to close your hands entirely around him, but that only adds further to the exciting flutter in your stomach.

It’s just a lick, from base to tip, at first. One quick run with your tongue. Ao‘nung makes a noise, clearly made in an effort to keep himself from moaning and you grin mischievously. You start shallow and easy. Somewhat slow and lazy. Just working him up with kisses on his smooth tip and kitten licks along his shaft. As a reward, he makes soft, low groans every now and then. It encourages you to pick up the pace and go deeper.

Your lips wrap around the head, tongue glued to the underside and then you slowly suck him in as far as he could go before making you gag -which wasn’t much, considering that his tip almost filled your mouth out completely. But you managed to make it work, your hands coming to help and stroke every inch you couldn’t reach.

Ao‘nung let out a strangled moan at the tight heat your throat formed around him and then tangled his fist in your hair. "Fuck, that’s good…"

A glance up reveals a pair of lust darkened eyes staring down at you, his bottom lip sucked in between his sharp canine and his eyebrows drawn together in pleasure. You chuckle and hum around his cock, tasting the musky, earthy tang of his pre-cum dripping onto the back of your tongue as you suck and slurp around his cock.

Ao’nungs noises are slowly growing louder and more frequent, but they aren’t out of control. Yet.

You let the tip of your tongue flick against his slit, and this time the metkayina didn’t even try to hold back a moan. "Great mother– shit, keep that up and you‘ll make me come!"

At this, you pull off and look up with a wicked grin that quickly turns into a little pout. "Not yet, big boy. I want you to hold it.” Your tongue darts out again to give the head of his cock a seductive lick. "Hold it so you can come inside me, yes?"

Ao‘nung swallows thickly, trying to compose himself and keep his calm, and then nods. "Get up here then, c‘mon", he huffs, sounding a little too breathless for his own liking as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up to your feet. Your clothes were off faster than you could even process with the speed of an extra set of hands that were just itching to feel every inch of your exposed skin.

"What a pretty little demon", Ao‘nung cooed as his eyes raked over your body, his hands groping at your ass and hips, one of them running up to knead your tits. "Always knew you’d be a sight." He then places a couple of open mouthed kisses on the warm, soft skin of your breast, his lips closing around a nipple to gently suck before he released it with a wet pop.

"We should make sure to get you ready for me", Ao’nung whispered before he continued to lap at your tits. "Get you all nice and wet, stretch you out for my cock", he said after a long drag of his tongue over your sensitive skin.

"Yeah", you breath softly, letting your head fall back as you enjoyed the feeling of his tongue tease one nipple, and then the other. "We should."

"How does the tiny human want me then, hm?"

A mischievous smile spread on your lips as you straddled the big na‘vi, making sure to shuffle in position by letting your cunt drag over his cock which emitted a sharp hiss from the man under you. Both of your arms were now back around his neck, your chest pressed tight against his as you arched your back for him.

"Want you to finger me before I ride you", you whispered lowly into his pointy ear, before licking along the soft shell. You giggle at the way it twitches in excitement of hearing your desires, before Ao‘nung wraps a strong arm around your middle and reaches between your thighs from behind with the other.

He makes a low sound, between a groan and a growl, as his finger glides through your slippery folds. He locates your clit with ease and teases the little bundle of nerves by drawing featherlight circles on it. Sweet gasps of pleasure tumble from your parted lips and directly into his ear and he grins. More arousal seeps out of you the more he plays with your clit, and it doesn’t take him very long to grow impatient and let his fingers wander to the source of it. Your tiny hole clenches with the need to be filled and Ao‘nung let’s out an appreciative hum as he pushes his index finger past your entrance with minimal resistance. You’re so wet, so ready to be taken, he thinks. But you’re also tight, he realizes quickly.

Wriggling the second finger inside is more of a challenge, but you still take it. Your moans grow louder as he begins to push his fingers in to the last knuckle, thrusting them in and out slowly, curling them just right for your legs to tremble.

Once he deems you ready enough and his impatience seems to get the best of him, Ao’nung retreats his fingers and grabs your hips to position you right above his cock. He presses you down to where it lays hard and heavy on his stomach, then guides you by the hips to run your cunt up and down his length, lubing himself with your arousal.

"Think you’re ready for me, paskalin?", Ao’nung asks, but his voice sounds more strained that he would like admit. He’s so precious, holding himself back so much. And he’s was doing so well there. He’s not even inside you yet but you can feel his cock pulse, so close to the finish line already.

For a moment you debate if you should shake your head and make him eat you out first, just to see how long he can hold it in. You knew that would be mean. But that was exactly the point. He might be as hard as a rock, but you had the patience of a saint, and could easily drag this out. But the thought of him finishing early over how tight you are is just so much better.

"See for yourself", you purr into his ear, before leaning back with a hand on his chest, the other one grabbing his length and positioning it to nudge against your entrance.

"Go slow, tawtute. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt, do we?" Ao’nung chuckles confidently, but the sound is quickly cut off once you lower yourself onto his cock. "F-Fuck", he gasps, his hands on your hips suddenly tightening. He groans through gritted teeth, feeling your warmth embrace the tip of his cock. Letting him stretch your tight hole, you pause every couple of inches, just slowly making progress. But it was enough to get Ao’nung on the verge of loosing his composure.

Squeezing his eyes shut, all he could feel was the suffocating heat all around his cock, swallowing him whole, inch after inch. All he could do was lay there and try to control his rapid breathing, groaning loud and deep the further you sank down.

You’re so tight, so incredibly tight, it’s like nothing he has ever felt before. It was a vice like grip that squeezed his cock for all it’s worth and you hadn’t even started to move properly. Exhaling another shaky breath, he finally felt you snug against him, which made him pry his eyes open slowly.

"What’s wrong, hm?" You said, cocking your head at the man below you. "You’ve always got such a mouth on you, pretty boy, what happened?"

Ao’nung couldn’t even react, his breath cut off completely and his eyes rolled back into his head as he felt your hot walls pulsate around his length.

"Bit off a bit more than you could chew, huh?" You giggle softly. Looking down at yourself, you couldn’t just feel but see the very prominent bulge of where his cock was nestled deep inside you.

"Fuck, you’re so big", you said with a smile. Ao’nungs eyes were so heavy with lust as he stared at you, biting his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper in order not to loose himself right here and right now. But you weren’t making it very easy for him.

"Look how much you’re stretching me out", you whispered, before taking his hands from your hips and repositioning them to rest and the bulge of your stomach. "You’re so deep inside me, can you feel it?"

And then, torturously slow, you lifted your hips up. The combined feeling beneath his big palms and also his cock, of him sliding out of you, drove Ao’nung close to madness. He was almost completely out, only the tip resting inside you, when you stopped. You could see the self-restraint in his feverish gaze, his pupils grown so much his eyes were almost fully black now.

"Ready, big boy?"

He wouldn’t possibly know what to be ready for, so he just nods, drunk of lust.

You don’t sink down nearly as slow and carefully as just a few minutes ago when your body still had to adjust to his size. You slam yourself down and Ao’nung makes a sound that’s close to a punched out moan. He feels the head of his cock nestled against your cervix, pressed right against the opening to your womb and it makes him physically shudder.

His back arches and then your hands find leverage on his chest and you start bouncing on him.

"Oh eywa", the metkayina gasps loudly, "Are you trying to kill me?" The soft, velvety walls of your cunt squeeze around him at his words and his eyes almost cross at that. "You– shit, you feel so good. You’re so– so tight, fuck!"

Instead of a verbal response, you just grin and decide to let your body do all the talking for you. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Ao‘nung cock and spilling moans that he felt deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you slam your hips back down, turning him into a moaning, whimpering mess.

Ao’nungs toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again, and you felt the way his cock throbbed heavily inside you. He was so close, so so close. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust, providing the perfect view of yourself, moving how you pleased without a care for anything else. There was so much salvia pooling in his mouth, Ao‘nung felt like a starved man forced to stare at his favorite dish right in front of him.

With the way you plunged his cock into your pussy over and over again, deeper with every thrust, he was certain that it must feel like he was already in your stomach. And you were moaning like that was the case. The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans, grunts and sweet whimpers, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer –until it was all too much for the poor man.

"I- Stop, shit, slow down", he managed to force out, his hands squeezing your hips so hard you knew they would be bruised by tomorrow. That didn’t stop you from riding him, though. "Eywa woman, you’re gonna make me–"

"You’re eating your words yet, hm?" You cut him off, switching from bouncing to grinding yourself against him, circling your hips as if you were trying to spell his name.

"H-Huh, what?", he tries, but fails to understand what you were trying to say, once your walls seem to suffocate him, squeezing around his length particularly hard. "Oh sh-it!"

A smile pulls at your lips. You’re enjoying this far too much.

Leaning forward you press your lips against his, then move from his mouth to his jaw, places open mouthed kisses on his throat and up to the tip of his ear. Your blunt teeth graze his lobe and then you whisper, "You said you would ruin me for all of my kind. But who’s ruining who now?"

"Okay, I- I get it", he says in a breathless moan. "Shit, please, you–"

"Say it", you demand with a harsh thrust. "Who’s ruining this big, strong warrior for all of his kind?"

"Y-You!" Ao’nung groans, his hips raising off the bed as if to chase the tightness of your cunt as you lift yourself up and then down again. "You do, fuck, you’re ruining me!"

"Hmm, you’re so loud", you hum, "It’s like you want everyone to hear how good the little tawtute’s making you feel."

It's not enough, the slow drag of you pulling out, and then the harsh thrust of him filling you up again. It’s not enough but it's also too much, too good! Ao’nung can't take anymore.

"I– I’m gonna come!" He groans, throwing his head back in bliss. "I can’t– ca- hngh– you just feel so good, I’m gonna fucking come!"

"What, already?", you giggle, "That’s so sweet."

His excitement suddenly overwhelms your control, and he thrusts up into you, fast and hard as he begins to come. He drops his head onto the mattress, suddenly weak with the pleasure rushing through him, and his cock jerks inside your warmth. You feel the pulse of his blood pounding, pounding, and Ao’nung pushes in one last time as deeply as he can.

"C‘mon, do it then", you say between moans, your voice bouncing from the sheer force of his jackhammer-like thrusts. "Come for me, baby. I want you to come inside me, make me feel good."

Sweat was already beading at his forehead, curses being hissed through clenched teeth as he held you steady and plunged his cock into you over and over again.

Ao’nung couldn’t think straight anymore. You were still so tight, so good, every inch of his cock sliding into you made his brain turn into goo. It felt like waves of water rushing over him, drowning him in the feeling before something pulled him out and his lungs finally filled with air.

Ao’nung comes hard, shaking and squirming beneath you as his hot seed fills ever inch inside you there is to fill. The sheer intensity of it is enough to help you tumble over the edge with him, and you find his lips just in time to moan into each others mouths, tongues curling and lips sucking the other in. It’s so filthy, so wet and messy, it takes you a hot minute to realize the na‘vi underneath you has grown limp before you stopped grinding against him.

You go still for a minute, just smiling at the mess you’ve made out of the man that had so much to say about ruining you earlier that night. And then, almost casually, your hips roll up in a gentle thrust. Ao’nungs breath catches on a noise, and even he isn’t sure if it's pleasured or pained, nerve endings still flayed and raw-open. He’s so overstimulated from the tightness of your human cunt, he shudders when you finally lift yourself up and off of him.

Finally, Ao’nung pushes himself up to one elbow, words forming on his lips, but they're lost on a ragged gasp as you gently push him back down by his shoulders.

"What- what are you doing?" He chuckles in disbelief, his eyes eagerly following your every movement. His cum still oozes out of you in a thick flow, the sight alone so obscene it makes his cock already half hard again. His hands reach out to hold you, but you remove them, before shuffling to straddle his head.

"You can still talk, Ao‘nung. And when I say I’ll ruin you, I mean it. Now lay back down and let me see what else that dirty mouth of yours is good for."

#😩 anon #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #atwow #ao’nung #aonung #aonung x reader #ao’nung x female reader #ao’nung x female reader smut #ao’nung x reader #Ao’nung atwow #Avatar 3 #ao’nung x you #ao’nung x y/n #ao’nung x sully!reader #aonung x you #aonung x female reader #aonung x human reader #aonung x y/n #aonung x sully!reader

[another-lost-mc]

When MC is Quiet in Bed Headcanons | THE DEMON BROTHERS + THE DATEABLES/SIDE CHARACTERS 1.7k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Smut & Fluff Content warnings: They're all so in love, its cavity-inducing. Suggestive and sexual content, some pet names, teasing/dirty talk, cursing, body worship.

THEY'RE DETERMINED TO DRAW MORE NOISES FROM YOU

LUCIFER, ASMODEUS, BELPHEGOR, DIAVOLO, SOLOMON, MEPHISTOPHELES

Lucifer appreciates you exactly for who you are, but he’s the Avatar of Pride for a reason. When he tries to draw more noises from your kiss-swollen lips, he wants to prove to you (and he wants anyone else who might be listening to know) that no one else can ever satisfy you the way he can. By the time he’s finished, all you’ll be able to whisper or moan or feel is him. He can’t be with you every night, but whenever he fucks his fist thinking of you, he comes to the memory of the night you finally cried out his name. 

Asmodeus won’t stop until he knows your body as intimately as his own. When he gives you a massage after a long day, he knows where and how to touch you to draw relieved sighs from you. He knows what temperature to run your bath so you hum with contentment. In the bedroom, your pleasure is his pleasure, and there’s nothing more gratifying than seeing your head thrown back in ecstasy when he finally pulls a sweet moan or whimper from you. Hearing you sing for him, your body and voice together in perfect harmony, makes him even more desperately in love with you.

Belphegor sees your quietness as a challenge. He wants your noises to fill the attic to hide his own desperate, needy sounds. If he notices that you’re trying to be quiet, it only makes him even more determined to see how loud you can be. He wants to hear you beg for him, just to prove that he always gets what he wants - and you’re happy to do that for him, aren’t you? He might tease you about it just to see how you respond—

You’re so desperate for my cock, do you even hear yourself? Fuck, let’s see if you can moan like that again—

But that’s because he wants you to feel as vulnerable as he does.

Diavolo wants to know how well he satisfies you. He wants to erase all your previous lovers and replace them with memories of him and him alone. He wants you to guide him and support him, and love him and accept him for who he is. In return, he’ll be a leader you can be proud of, and a demon you can love wholeheartedly, and the only lover you’ll want beside you or on top of you or inside you. He’s the future demon king that kneels at your feet and worships you with his hands and mouth and cock. The only thing he’ll ever ask is that you never hide how he makes you feel. 

Solomon wants to know you better than anyone else ever will. That means his touches are gentle and exploratory at first, and once he finds something that causes you to moan or whine for more, his smile turns sharp. He does it over and over and over again, so he can see how loud you can be, and how desperate your sounds are, and the types of words you use when you beg him so prettily to let you come. He rewards you for your patience and for being so good for him, and when he fucks you after, you’ll have your chance to learn the desperate noises you drag from him too.

Mephistopheles resisted you for so long, but as much as your human nature irritated him at first, now he’s enamored by it. There’s nothing he wants more than to prove to you that you won’t ever regret choosing him over any of those other demons who pursued you (especially that arrogant bastard Lucifer). Nothing makes him happier (or harder, or hornier) than hearing you whimper his name when you’re caged beneath his arms on his dark, silk sheets. He’ll do anything to hear you say his name like that again (and again and again).

THEY DON’T MIND IF YOU'RE QUIET or THEY’RE QUIET, JUST LIKE YOU

SATAN, BEELZEBUB, BARBATOS, RAPHAEL

If Satan is in one of his calm, happy moods, his lovemaking is sweet and quiet and unhurried. He takes his time exploring your body, mapping the smooth expanse of your skin with his hands and mouth. The soft shuffle of sheets and the creak of his bedframe, and perhaps the quietest of sighs, is more than enough to set his nerves alight.

If Satan is channeling his rage into a more pleasurable outlet, then he’s going to be noisier. You might be too, or you might not be - it doesn’t matter. He can tell by the way your thighs shake around his waist, or the way your fingernails scrape his scalp when you pull him down into a frenzied kiss, that he’s giving you something that no one else ever will.

Beelzebub doesn’t care how loud or quiet you are as long as he can have you as much as he wants. There’s an endless hunger for you that churns deep within him. When he covers your body with his and fucks you with slow but powerful movements, his own quiet noises in your ear are barely noticeable over the sound of the headboard banging against the wall or the mattress springs squeaking beneath you. He growls your name into the crook of your neck when he comes, and he’s more focused on the sound of your heartbeat close to his than anything else.

Barbatos is used to being a silent shadow for his young master, and your quiet manners in bed don't disappoint him or surprise him; he can be very much the same. He sighs at your first hesitant touch, and he murmurs loving praise into your ear when he coaxes both of you towards the precipice of pleasure. He appreciates the other ways you respond to his loving caresses. He places more value in your hot breath against his skin when you pant into his shoulder, or your hands scrambling for purchase along his back or in his hair. (Your soft noises also make it easier to get away with scandalous midday dalliances when he feels especially daring.)

Raphael is not loud or boisterous at the best of times, and when he’s making love to you, it’s no different. He drags his mouth along your skin while he moves inside you, and the quiet grunts or moans that slip past his otherwise occupied lips are muffled against you. He likes to feel the vibrations of your shaky breaths and erratic sighs when his body is pressed flush against your own. When he reaches between your bodies and touches you so you both come together, you can sometimes hear the softest whispers as he chants your name under his breath.

THEY'RE LOUD ENOUGH FOR BOTH OF YOU

MAMMON, LEVIATHAN, SIMEON, THIRTEEN

Mammon is greedy for you - all of you. Every breathy moan or broken cry, every whimper or groan you make. The way your body shakes or trembles or moves with him, or for him, he wants it all. It doesn’t matter how loud or quiet you are, because he knows everything you do in his bed (or in the shower, or in his car, or on any other flat surface) is all for him. It also doesn’t matter how loud or quiet you are because he is sinfully loud. The endless stream of sweet praise that he babbles into your skin or the honeyed filth he growls against your ear is enough to drown you out anyway. You quickly learn that all the noises you make are his, just as all the noises he makes are yours.

Leviathan sometimes wishes you were louder in bed because he gets embarrassed by his own needy, desperate noises. It bothers him at first, and his face is flushed red and he’s sweating and trembling beneath your hands, but eventually he's too overcome with desire to care anymore. When you’re in your room, or in his tub, or laid flat on his desk, he babbles about how good you feel and begs you to tell him how much you want him and he’s desperate for you to tell him you’re his and only his. When he’s close, or when he knows you’re close, his breath hitches and he whimpers and whines because you feel so good, it’s too good, please don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop—

Simeon isn’t necessarily loud, but he’s noisy. He whispers your name with such reverence that it takes your breath away, and he praises you so unabashedly that you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t too cock drunk to care. His sweet words are punctuated by the sounds he makes when you feel too good and he can’t form coherent thoughts anymore. He groans his pleasure into your skin and moans into your kisses, and his breath hitches when your hand or mouth or greedy walls clench around him just right. The noises your bodies make are a constant distraction too - the way his hands brush over your skin, the wet glide of his tongue and mouth against yours, and the soft slapping sounds as his hips move faster and with more desperation against your body. When you’re close, the bed creaks louder when your body moves in sync with his, and it spurs him on even more. He thinks all the noises of your lovemaking are just as lovely as the quiet words or gentle moans you do - or don't - make for him. 

Thirteen isn’t quiet. When she’s not cooing about how cute you are trying to fuck yourself on her fingers, or when she’s not murmuring how good you taste on her tongue, she’s constantly in awe of you. She explores your body so eagerly, and she’s always finding new things to love about it. When she does, she tells you with so much giddy excitement how she found another little secret of yours. She finds all your little birthmarks and moles and scars and everything else that makes you unique. She maps them with her hands and her tongue so she never forgets them, and so that you never forget how much she adores them. She finds the oddest ways to compliment you, usually when you’re half-delirious from pleasure. She grins down at you, or smirks up at you, and she says the sweetest things when she knows you’re too tongue-tied to argue with her about it. 

#obey me demon brothers #obey me dateables #obey me undateables #obey me side characters #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #solomon x reader #mephistopheles x reader #raphael x reader #thirteen x reader #obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #x reader #gn!reader

[xiao-come-home]

I love reading your random Boothill thoughts 🥲. Especially the one where he is a dad. Do you think he is a girl dad or boy dad?

Ahhh thank you! Ik you sent it before his story was leaked but man was this spot on 🫠 here’s some dad!boothill hc with reader because im starving

Warning: mentions of pregnant reader and all that jazz, SPOILERS FOR BOOTHILLS STORY.

I FELT IN MY BONES he was a girl dad before it was revealed to be canon! Boothill gives so much girl dad vibes it’s immaculate. He’d love to pick out pink clothes for his daughter, pink shoes, ponies and other plushies! Or rather, he loved.

That’s until you happened to get pregnant shortly before he left for his surgery. He came back a few weeks later with his new body, but no one was home. A small gift bag sat on the table, waiting for him; Boothill opened the bag and grabbed a piece of long paper, a black and white picture. A small bean present in the middle; the back of the picture held a tiny caption, that read: “I’m only a few weeks old. I can’t wait to meet you, daddy.”

Even though the wound was still fresh and open, since not long has passed since the incident on his planet - Boothill began to feel bitter determination to give his baby the best life they could ever have; this time, a life that wouldn’t see its end so fast.

Boothill is very interested in your pregnancy! He’s sometimes unable to go to every appointment (whether be it the ipc who are hunting him, or the opposite), but he knows he can’t mess it up. Not again. He’s always holding your hand when you have an ultrasound scan, glaring at the doctor and making sure they don’t hurt you or the baby, and giving your tummy so. many. kisses. He assists you in the bath, just talking to you can keeping you company, since water, cords and a pregnant human aren’t a good combo. He wants you to tell him everything.

That’s when you finally tell Boothill that you’ll have a baby girl - his mechanic heart shatters and swells with love at the same time; it’s such a strange feeling, that makes the cowboy feel a little guilty. Both of you fall silent, until Boothill makes a move and closes the distance between you, smiling sadly at you and softly caressing your stomach with his hand, “I’ll treasure her forever.”

There are days when Boothill truly feels like the hole in his heart cannot be healed after your first daughter, but he knows she’d love to have a little sister. Yet he’s here, now a cyborg and the only memory of her is just one, lonely picture. He makes sure to never let her existence fade away by telling your round tummy that he’ll love them both until the end.

On a happier note, Boothill is just. Such a good dad, but also a chaotic one sometimes, especially if your daughter inherits her dad’s personality. They’re doing everything together - if she wants to have her hair braided, he does so, and lets her braid his (even if his hair gets so tangled at first, to the point he has to cut it 😭), good god! He loves her so much and always hugs her so tightly when she runs up to him after she notices her dad is back home.

Boothill just loves hearing her little giggles and always makes her laugh! Sometimes he tickles her so much she throws her plushies at him.

Boothill wants all her milestones to be forever preserved. He has tons of pictures of her, a few photo albums - it’s never enough. He’s so proud when she says her first word, when she takes her first steps by herself, her first drawing for him (even if she drew it on the fridge with a black marker), her first birthday. He wants to give her everything she could ever have.

Boothill might've cried the night when his little baby drew him a family portrait - with you, herself, her daddy and older sister. He's injected in her every possible good memory about her, and she never fails to appreciate her older sister even if she isn't there, knowing her dad still loves her just as much.

When Boothill’s little princess cancels the weekly tea party he’s always attended, it’s HIM who feels sad about and pouty about it.

Boothill buys his daughter tons of different hats! They’re always carefully picked and he makes sure she likes them waiting for her approval, but most of the time she wants to just wear his. She doesn’t care she’s drowning in it, it’s the best because it’s Boothill’s hat.

Even though Boothill never mentioned her anything about playing guitar, one day she started to play him a tiny bit of song she learned at school - although clumsily and due to stress, Boothill listened to her and threw her in the air in happiness when she finished - he knew it was your job and couldn’t be more thankful. Once again, he made yet another guitar in his life - this time to finally listen to his little one’s music and teach her many, many other songs they’d later play and sing together.

Oh god, when Boothill’s daughter announced her “boyfriend” she met at daycare, he just stared at her with wide eyes. This is also an instance where he cried that night and you had to calm him down. Later on he insisted to be the one to take her to daycare, and gently threatened the said toddler, “look, stinker. Don’t ya dare GET NEAR ma lil’ angel, or else.” This was his last visit without your supervision. And also, your daughter just laughed at him and left… so yeah, plan failed successfully, I guess?

Mandatory naps with daddy after daycare. Well, Boothill only pretends to sleep when she looks at him - but once she falls asleep on his chest, he looks at her with so much love, gently resting on his chest and stroking her hair, that was just like his and adoring her tiny face, that he thought was the most perfect mix of you and him. Boothill shushes you with his finger quietly, when you ungraciously enter your home. A content smile appears on his lips when you give him and your daughter an apologetic kiss on their foreheads, still hearing her snoozing tenderly.

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.anon thirst

[scuderiasundays]

free ride

summary: friction, spontaneous gifts, and revelations on a ride home + a little insta au at the end 💌

words: 673

a/n: a short blurb! haven't written in months but may post sporadically. tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, and @silverstonesainz just because. any and all feedback much appreciated as always! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

“You can be so clingy sometimes.” Lando let out a sigh, one that was tinged with deep disapproval. He continued to hastily shove his belongings into the duffel bag you had gifted him mere weeks ago. Standing in the hallway, your mind couldn’t help but play back the memory of a happier time.

-

“You’ve gotten me a gift and it’s not even my birthday. If this is a taste of what a lifetime with you looks like, sign me up!”

Lando twirled with the sleek leather bag over his shoulder. Qatar Airways had lost his prized duffel (another “perk” of being a frequent flyer). While you were well aware he could easily afford a replacement, the sheer thought of giving back to him put a smile on your face.

“Check the luggage tag,” you said. He turned it over in his hand, revealing the number one engraved in gold.

“You do realize my driver number is four, right? Or was this meant for Max?“ He said, his lips turning upwards in a cheeky grin.

“Shut up, I just wanted you to show you how much I believe in you—my future world champion.”

“How did I get so lucky?” He pulled you close, cupping your face with both hands before planting a kiss on your forehead.

-

You shook yourself out of it as the front door slammed, realizing your vision start to blur. With 24 races on the calendar and work keeping you in London, it wasn't a total shock that things had gone south. Yet as you tried to make sense of it all, you couldn't decipher if it was Lando speaking or just the exhaustion from a 13-hour flight getting to him. All you did was ask if he wanted to join you for dinner with friends tonight, and he’d deemed you “clingy.”

-

You heard your phone buzz on the kitchen island as you grabbed the keys. It was Ashley calling. He’d call you on occasion when Lando asked him to but it surprised you nonetheless. He sounded worried as he explained that Lando wasn't feeling well at the MTC and needed someone to pick him up. Feeling a sense of urgency, you quickly shifted gears, realizing that you’d have to take a rain check on tonight’s plans.

-

Lando looked pale and small as he climbed into the passenger’s side of your car. You tried to help him in but he swatted your hands away, a lingering reminder of the tension between you. You turned up the radio to drown out the deafening silence when you suddenly heard his voice.

“I’m sorry about this morning.” You could just make out his eyes shifting from the window to you in your peripheral vision. To be perfectly honest, you hadn’t expected an apology out of him so soon.

“I never meant to tell you this but the thought of you walking away from me and us…Well, just thinking about it makes me queasy. I was on the sim and I realized I’d hurt you and my mind started spiraling and-”

You pulled the car over to the side of the road as his breathing shallowed.

“Hey, everything’s going to be fine.” You wiped the tears from his face and placed your hand on his thigh. It took a few minutes but you saw the color gradually return to his face.

“Anywhere you want to go? It’s rare you let me drive so I’m taking it all in.”

“Up to you. I’m just here for the free ride.” He giggled.

“Free, huh? Well, this girl charges in secrets. So, where’s Carlos headed next season?”

Lando ran his hands through his curls, a nervous tick of his.

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

He flashed a devilish grin, his eyes twinkling in the evening glow. As much as you despised the complications that came with all the time zones and miles apart, there was no doubt you'd find your way back to each other at the end of each day.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, and 41,414 others

yourusername: i cry a lot but i am so productive! it's! an! art!

fan1: love that she's a swiftie but is lando the reason behind all her crying 🤨

fan2: if so, it's on sight!!!

landonorris: begging you to clear my name and confirm i am, in fact, the world's best boyfriend

yourusername: i love you but what did we say about a growth mindset?

carlossainz55: humble him, reina 🤭

yourbestfriend: love the fact that pimm fits perfectly in your 🚲 basket

pietra.pilao: soooo much love for you ❤️

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris edit #lando norris #f1 x you #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 instagram au #lando norris one shot #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris angst

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Of All Things, I Became an Aranara

You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of an Aranara with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.

cw. you're an aranara

pairing. scaramouche/wanderer x reader, cyno x reader, kaveh x reader, candace x reader (separate)

notes. don't feel like being an aranara today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.

While you would have preferred being human, you have to admit there are few things better than turning into an Aranara. You've most assuredly been given Genshin non-humanoid pretty privilege with beautiful powers concerning plants and dreams to boot.

An even bigger benefit is that you can talk, so communicating with humans in this world will be a cinch.

The only thing you can really complain about now is that you aren't really able to handle salt and spices the way you used to. But to be honest, if that's the only thing you have to complain about, you'll gladly settle with being one of the musically-inclined leaf children of the rainforest.

All of whom are your friends despite the predicament you've found yourself in. You may have technically lost the isekai 50/50 but you feel like you've won in a lot of ways too.

Scaramouche

Ironically enough he was one of the easiest individuals on the list to befriend. Why? You met him when his memories were completely reset to zero and he had a much more sweet and calm demeanor

Considering the sharp-tongue Scaramouche you're used to, it honestly gave you whiplash

Still, you couldn't bring yourself to leave the guy, bright eyed and full of wonder. It was the constant abandonments and perceived abandonments that turned Scara into the person he came

You accompany him when he regains his memories, after which he assumes that now you know the extent of his true character and the things he's done that you'll leave him now. he even encourages you to do so, shooing you away

you plopping your small self across his shoulder and telling him he's your best friend means a lot to him, even if he tells you in response that you're an idiot but you can do as you wish

Before and after regaining his memories, Scara is very clingy. Before regaining them, he slept with you nestled to his chest much like a child would a teddy bear. Afterwards, he considers it too soft and embarrassing to do so but if you snuggle up against him well, he won't stop you

Once you got lost while exploring and when you didn't come back within the time he expected you to, he grew quite panicked and nearly turned the entire forest upside down trying to find you

When he did, you were promptly scolded for making him have to look for you. What's the matter with you? Don't go traveling somewhere unfamiliar or you'll just make him have to waste time backtracking to look for you

(He was scared that you had gotten eaten or hurt or worse, that you decided to no longer travel with him, leaving him to be alone all over again)

Whenever he has nightmares, you turn his dreams into ones much happier. He tells you to stay out of his head but he appreciates the fanciful worlds you craft for him

You're also quite handy when he needs to avoid his new fanbase from the Akademiya. Taking him to the dream world to avoid talking to people is quite a useful trick of yours

But as it turns out, Scaramouche is quite popular with the Aranara and they all love to indulge him. So you kinda have some competition

You can't believe you're actually getting jealous of Aranaras. Wow, how the mighty have fallen

Cyno

A son of the desert who grew up in the rainforest, Cyno heard of stories regarding the Aranara but he never thought they'd be real. But as far as he is concerned, you're as much a citizen of Sumeru as he is

So Cyno quickly rolls with the punches and treats you accordingly with respect. Talk about a win!

But as far as you being a travel companion? Cyno isn't entirely sure since his work concerns apprehending wayward scholars and their affiliates. It's dangerous, so unless you can prove yourself to be sturdy enough to protect yourself, he'll tell discourage you from following him

Of course, he can't rightly force a creature of Dendro and dreams from doing that anyway if you stubbornly continue on with him

Thankfully, you can set his worries aside when you show not only are you adorable, but resourceful, using your powers of Dendro to apprehend criminals attempting to flee the scene when Cyno arrives (all while staying hidden in the realm of dreams. You're not trying to put a target on the back of every Aranara after all)

That aside, you don't really have any troubles with Cyno. When he rests by campfire, he will make sure you stay a comfortable distance from the flames and will teach you about GI TCG and will even tell you a joke or two (or three)

Cyno is a reliable companion. He'll protect you if you are under his protection but he doesn't make you feel less than because you're not human either

But when he isn't in work mode, he is very sweet and even let's you wear his headdress from time to time as long as you are careful with it. In return you place flower crowns atop his head

Is another protective companion. As one brought from the desert to the rainforest for the sake of experiments, Cyno knows what could happen should those at the Akademiya find out that Aranaras are more than just a tale for children

So he always makes sure you aren't sighted by those he cannot trust

Kaveh

Meeting Kaveh was a bit of an accident as you had to help disentangle from a mess of vines

For someone blessed with the power of Dendro, he isn't really one who naturally has an affinity for plants

As such, he is embarrassed when you find him in this situation. Embarrassed and quite amazed to find out that Aranara aren't just stories. One getting him out of a mess like this isn't really how Kaveh ever imagined meeting one back when he was a child

That aside, Kaveh straightens himself out, thanks you and honestly he tries to be polite about it but he has plenty of questions about your being an Aranara that you can't really answer outside of lore you got from the game

You tell him that you'll look out for him when he is prancing about the rainforest so he can avoid these sorts of mishaps in the future which he insists is unnecessary

But you're not trying to be stuck living in nature forever, you want to make sure you have guaranteed safety. It also helps that if you're going to attach yourself to a human in the game, they aren't just some random NPC. A player character comes with a certain level of stability you appreciate

Kaveh's too good an opportunity to pass up and Mehrak is quite cute too. Win-win situation

Out of everyone here though sadly, Kaveh treats you most like a pet. Something no one wants to get from a hot guy even if you understand why he treats you so

At least he gives you plenty of sweets to eat?

You become a surprising point of comfort for Kaveh when he grows frustrated with his roommate. You tend to use your powers of Dendro to weave flowers through his hair during those moments and listen when he vents

You think his kindness does him more harm than good and that he tends to be his worst critic, so you tell Kaveh to be kinder to himself

Candace

A desert really isn't the place for an Aranara but you stubbornly decided to try your luck at it anyway against your better judgement (and the advice of your fellow Aranara)

But a couple of near death experiences aside, you think you made a good decision when you get to Aaru Village. The children there are very sweet and fascinated by you, having never seen an Aranara themselves

So you become quite popular among them, making them all sweet dreams and becoming a sort of... Guardian, one might say

You also help maintain the few plantlife of Aaru Village from Sabbah's flowers to the ajilenakh trees

It isn't much work but it's honest work

Candace thought nothing of it, thinking it was cute for the children of the village to have something to talk about

Then she ran into you trying (and failing) to get some food from the storage and that is how you were discovered by the actual Guardian of Aaru Village

Despite that little mishap, Candace is sweet to you and presents to you the same rules she gives all guests of Aaru. She also appreciates you helping with the children

So she doesn't disagree when you label yourselves as a sort of duo protecting everyone in different ways

Candace seldom has time to rest or enjoy any sort of personal time, so you try to be her invisible company in the day and you pester her to take breaks

You'd threaten to keep her contained in vines to make her take a break but you know she is infinitely stronger than your own abilities

How else can she fight monsters for hours at a time without tiring?

Still if you're at that level of desperate to make her rest, Candace promises to take more breaks along the day and rely more on her fellow guards

#look she's writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kaveh x reader #candace x reader #cyno x reader

[fictionismyreality3]

Can we have a smut of stalker Jason with somnophilia and crazy to eat pussy? Plsss

I mean, Jason is a natural fucking pussy eater.

AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE PLACED YOUR FIRST RESQUET!!

Can I be the 💦 anon? To u know that is me

Too Much to Take (18+)

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: Smut, stalker!jason todd, possessive!jason todd

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, somnophilia, stalking, dubcon, guns, drugs, little to no aftercare.

Notes: hi babes!! I’m so so sorry this took so long, a bear ate my phone. My beautiful 💦 your request is much appreciated. I know it’s unrealistic that the reader never wakes up but I have nevER EVER BEEN HAPPIER.

The cool, night breeze of Bludhaven blew the white chiffon curtains your mother had gotten you in the wind. Across from your bed sat a gorgeous, kingly armchair where you loved to sit and read. Your apartment was carefully decorated by your artful hands, each piece put perfectly in its place. When you got home everyday, you knew you would be returning to a safe, cozy home full of memories and comfort items. Everything was just how it should be.

That’s why the man standing in your apartment was so out of place.

You were asleep, of course. Knocked out after a long day running errands. Your bed had welcomed you warmly, and you couldn’t resist cracking open your window just a little bit, wanting to savour the start of spring.

You knew the automatic danger that came with living in Bludhaven, but you’d saved up enough to move to a nicer area, and your apartment was on the 8th floor of your building. Surely, nobody would bother risking the fall.

Surely.

It had been three days since Jason had first saw you. Three days too long since he’d seen you in person. He’d watched you nearly every minute of the last 72 hours, consuming every ounce of information he could find about you and your life.

His shift watching over Bludhaven ended tomorrow, when Dick would be returning from wherever he went. So, he only had around a day left of viable excuse to be near you. After that, finding a reason to be in Bludhaven even longer would be his main priority. It was clear that he’d already be wherever you were. The thought of not being able to reach you was enough to shatter what little was left of his soul.

No, no, there was no going back now.

And so, Jason found himself perched on the rooftop across from your building, the endless Bludhaven rain pelting across his broad shoulders.

He spent the first few moments watching you carry out your night routine. It was all things many people in Bludhaven overlooked, or dropped as soon as their lives were overtaken by the chaos in the city. Somehow, you’d managed to maintain a semblance of a normal life even while being surrounded by shootings and drug runs.

He stayed still, hovering over your apartment like a cloud of death, his gaze never breaking to stray to anything else but you. He watched you make dinner, he watched you tidy up, he watched you get ready for bed. All of it was as fascinating to him as everything he’d seen when he researched your background.

All the little habits you did. The way you fiddled with the timer on the stove while you waited for the food, the way you danced to your music while you did dishes, the way you preferred an endless heap of pillows on your bed. Every little quirk he watched served to drill your presence deeper into his being. You were exactly what he needed.

So pure.

Innocent enough to leave your bedroom window open in the middle of a crime surge in the only city worse than Gotham.

It gave Jason the perfect opportunity to watch you sleep, and the perfect opportunity to survey your apartment for places to set up cameras. He’d need to make sure that he had every inch of the place covered so he could watch you at all times. The last thing Jason wanted was for some criminal or other creep to breathe the same air as you.

Oh, how cute.

He looked on as you settled into bed, reaching over to your nightstand to pat the head of a tiny giraffe plushy, as if it would stand guard and protect you from all the dangers in the world. You didn’t need a stupid plushie. You had him now.

But what if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you left your window open every night and someone with worse intentions was there to take advantage of it? He needed to be there to protect you, to keep away all the dangers and make sure you lived like a princess. It could happen tonight if Jason wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have that.

Wind blew the curtains in your window aside, as if the world was parting the barriers that lay between you. He was just going to make sure that nobody who was less well meaning than him would take a chance to hurt you.

With the speed of years and years of training, Jason hopped from rooftop to rooftop, as quiet as a panther stalking its prey. But Jason wasn’t stalking you. No, he was helping you, making sure you were safe.

Landing on your fire escape balcony without a sound, Jason stood motionless as he peered into your bedroom, his eyes locked on your sleeping form.

You were like an angel in his eyes. Something clean and untouched. Something that he could have all to himself now that he’d found you. Jason wasn’t worried about tainting you with his red-stained hands, no, you were saving him. You had saved him.

He took the time to study your bedroom, burning each item of decor into his mind. There were so many perfect spots to put cameras, and of course, he’d brought some with him just in case. They were small, tech he had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce’s generous stockpile in the safe house he was staying at.

He could have them placed and synced back up with his computer in less than five minutes. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even wake you.

And Jason didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t just the fact that he felt you looked so peaceful sleeping, something he would hate to disturb, it was that he wasn’t ready.

If you knew who he was, how could he guarantee your safety? Not to mention the fact that you might even try to run from him.

Like hell.

So, Jason found himself pushing the window you’d cracked open further, till he could just slip inside. Landing on the balls of his feet as he’d been trained to do a hundred times before, his presence was barely audible.

Just being in the same room as you felt like he was drunk and more alert than ever all at once. In the back of his mind, a sour voice told him to stop, to let this be the farthest he went and leave before things got out of hand. God forbid Bruce found out. But he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.

Taking his time, he walked slowly around your bedroom, his eyes soaking in everything that was just you. It was impossible to resist purusing your things as he came to your dresser. Trailing his fingers across all the little decorations you had, he closed his eyes, imagining he was touching your skin instead.

He couldn’t resist opening the drawers, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw that the first one he opened was full of your panties and bras. His mask suddenly felt constricting, and he immediately noticed his breaths pick up.

“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out in a sharp breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Looking back over at you sleeping in the bed, it was like he had the devil on both shoulders. Without thinking long enough to regret it, he reached for the prettiest pair, pocketing it so quickly it may as well had never been there.

Jason let out a heavy sigh, but continued placing cameras in places nobody but him would think to check. He’d have to come back later to do the rest of the apartment.

After just watching you sleep for what felt like far too little time, Jason finally willed himself to turn and leave. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest. The thought of getting to be this close to you, only to have it ripped away, was almost too much to bear. Still, he made his way back to your window. That’s when he heard it.

The sound of rustling sheets filled Jason’s expertly trained ears and his gaze snapped to the noise instantly as he froze in place, halfway out your window.

Dear god.

Where you had been snuggled cutely in your blankets, you had kicked them off to leave your lower half exposed.

Your gorgeous legs lay splayed across your bed, long and elegant. All of his senses were dialled in on the singular sight of you. His cock thrummed with heat almost instantly, his pants stretched out by his girth as his gazed strayed further.

You were wearing a pair of flimsy sleep shorts and a shirt that was far too big for you and he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

With an amount of restraint he didn’t think he possessed, Jason bit his tongue, practically salivating at the sight of you. He rested his head against the window frame, halfway out of your apartment, halfway towards making a very bad decision.

He should leave. He should leave and never come back and leave you alone and stop. But he couldn’t.

Fuck it.

Refusing to spend any more time not having you, Jason pulled himself back through your window, prowling towards your bed.

He just stood there for a while like he had already, staring at the delicious curve of your ass and feeling his cock harden in his pants. If he was already going to hell for this then he would take his time savouring his sins.

But he could only hold himself back for so long.

With a quiet groan, Jason crept nearer to your side, pulling away the rest of the blankets as carefully as he could. It wasn’t that important for him to see all of you just yet. Not only was his mind only focused on one thing, but he knew he had all the time in the world to study every part of you. You were his after all.

Now that your lower half was exposed to the cool spring air, there was only one barrier keeping Jason from taking what was holding his entire soul. He prayed you were a heavy sleeper, and lowered himself to his stomach on the bed. Propped up on his elbows, there were only a few inches separating him from the only thing he wanted.

Thank god for sleep shorts.

In the back of his mind, he was already adding buying you something less revealing to his list of things to do, not wanting anyone to see you but him. But that could wait.

Taking off his mask and placing it on the floor beside your bed, he bit his tongue and gently hooked his fingers underneath your sleep shorts, pulling them to the side. All at once the breath left his lungs and he felt like his world was being tipped upside down. You didn’t wear any panties to bed.

Jason had to close his eyes for a moment in order to control his urge to wake you up and ravish you. When he opened them again, they flickered green and he zeroed in on what was making his mouth water.

Your pretty little pussy.

It was a miracle he’d gotten this far to be honest, but you didn’t seem to stir for anything. Thanking whatever force was allowing him this one pleasure, he moved closer to you and began taking what he wanted so desperately.

The moment his mouth met your pussy he nearly came in his pants.

Stopping for a second, he waited for any sign you were awake, his heart pounding in his ears. But you were still silent. Jason took this as his go ahead, but he had no intentions of stopping anyway.

He peppered kisses along your pussy, drunk on the softness of your skin and the taste of you on his lips. Everything in him was bursting with thrill, and he could barely stop himself from rutting against your bed to get some much needed friction. He wasn’t in his mind anymore, the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet was your sweet little cunt.

You began to breathe a little heavier in your sleep, your soft breathing quickly getting deeper. But Jason didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Not when you tasted so divine, not when your skin felt like heaven on his tounge. He moved to your clit now, his whole face practically pressed into your pussy. If he was gonna go out between your legs, it was a death he would gladly take.

He sucked on your clit, alternating between swirling his tounge around it in tight little circles and sloppily eating you out. It was getting harder and harder for Jason to control the level of noise he was making. His groans and low, rumbling growls began to fill the room. It was just you. Only you in his mind, his heart, and his soul.

Oh, fuck.

You were making these cute little noises now. Little breathy whimpers and whines were leaving your lips. With each sound that reached his ears, he felt a bit more of his control slipping.

He hadn’t even noticed he was fucking you with two fingers until you began to squirm. All at once he halted all his movement, waiting for his fun to end, but your eyes never opened. This would all just be a really good dream for you. He almost chuckled at the idea.

Certain you’d stay asleep, he buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a man starved. His fingers pumped in and out of your now slick cunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweetness on his tongue.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He needed to make you cum. He needed to be the one, the only one, bringing you pleasure. He wanted to feel your cum running down his face. He wanted to taste you on his tongue three days from now.

There was no point trying to contain himself anymore. He’d already jumped off the edge a long time ago. Jason pumped a third finger into you, allowing himself to grind his raging cock against your bed. The noises you were making were getting louder, and you were beginning to writhe in your sheets every time he slammed his fingers into you. He knew he’d have to be quick, but honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take.

Taking your clit in between his teeth, he grazed the sensitive skin just enough to have you even wetter for him. Jason was desperate. All his cares, all his worries had been replace by an unending, carnal urge for you.

Only you.

He pumped his fingers faster, driving them in and out while he ate you like a man possessed. Then, he got to experience what was easily the best thing that ever happened to him.

Without warning, your needy whimpers turned into one long, high pitched whine, and your sweetness burst into Jason’s mouth. He felt like he died all over again, cumming in his pants as he groaned into your pussy, shuddering. Never once did his fingers stop, only slowing to allow himself to lap up all of your juices.

The world was quiet for a moment as he stayed hooked on your cunt, his eyes closed in bliss.

But he couldn’t stay forever.

With an insane amount of difficulty, Jason placed one more kiss on your clit, and pulled your shorts back in place. His own underwear would be ruined, and he would definitely have to wash his pants, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.

Once he was sure you’d stay asleep, he moved off the bed, coming to stand beside your now flushed face. Jason didn’t know what was worse, having to leave after tasting the best thing ever, or the fact that you’d only remember this as a dream.

Not wanting to think about anything but how full his heart felt, he leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek.

“Sweet dreams, baby. You’re mine.” He whispered softly, as if you could hear him, and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Taking one last glance at your pretty face, he turned and crept his way out of your apartment, leaving the way he came, through the window.

He made sure to close it.

It was clear to Jason that he should be feeling shame, remorse or disgust with himself for what he just did, but the only thing on his mind was how he wanted you awake for next time. And there would be a next time.

When you awoke that morning, and the haze of sleep cleared from your mind, your focus instantly went to the wetness between your thighs. You blushed as vague memories of a rather nice dream sprung to the forefront of your thoughts.

Shaking your head, you crawled out of bed, yawning, when your eyes caught on a slightly confusing sight.

“Didn’t I leave that open?”

#oneshot #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

[lex-the-flex]

Darker Than Wine

Astarion x Mortal! reader

Summary: In the ruined castle, the King silently rules over all that is dark and unnatural. Shrouded in the endless mysteries of his cruel abilities, he hungers for something stronger than wine.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): Moments of fluff, Astarion being a true lover/King, (spoiling the reader), established relationship, Astarion and the reader opening up, brief alcohol consumption, 18+ – PURE SMUT, basic porn with little plot lol, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving), HEAVY vampirism, blood, descriptions of injuries, and brief moments of pain.

A/N: From what I've seen from BG3, I'm absolutely IN LOVE with Astarion and Neil's incredible voice acting! Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!

A defining silence takes over the once great castle, inviting only superstitions and ghost stories to walk through the grand halls. Memories of the past overtook the ruins of Cazador's Palace and were replaced with newer, happier ones. But only behind closed doors.

On the outside however, the various village occupants did not dare to enter through the large doors, in fear of the cruel King who sat on his throne, ruling over nothing but darkness.

Hiding in the shadows, The Pale Elf accomplished all, and he achieved this with a mortal by his side. Except there was one problem: he thirsted for something more greater than wine.

The library's cozy atmosphere brought an inviting sense of serenity by the warmth of the infinite fireplace. Sitting on a lounge chair, you tried to focus on a new novel from the seemingly endless bookshelves containing sheltered and well-preserved books from the two hundred years of your husband and his master’s adventures long before you were born. 

Taking another sip from your wine glass, the tart dark liquid helps you focus, but only for a millisecond. Scrunching your eyebrows together, you tried to get back into the book, but another presence from the far corner of the room distracts you once more. 

“You’re staring again, Astarion.” You announced, closing your book and leaving your place bookmarked with your finger. 

Turning to face him, his silver orbs glow in the darkness, before returning to his normal red. 

“It just comes naturally, dear. Especially in your soothing presence.” Astarion replies, walking to the chair. 

Cupping your face from behind, Astarion leans down and meets your lips for a small kiss. 

“Mm, delectable. You know I’ll never get used to this.” He says with a smile. 

“Well, we are married after all. So you might have too.” You reply, setting your book down.

"And yet I still don't know what comes next. But as long as you're here, we can truly accomplish anything, Y/N." Astarion says, walking around to face you.

Closing his arms around you, he lowers his chin to your shoulder, never getting tired of your embrace. Silently shaking in his touch, your breath hitches between your pink lips. Taking your arms in his hands, Astarion faces you with a wave of concern emerging in every corner of his face.

"You're shaking. Is everything alright, darling?" He asks, gently stroking your cheek.

"Everything's fine. I promise, it's just..." You start, but mumble with your answer.

"But what? It was Araj again, wasn't it? She said something to you." Astarion assumes, and a wave of rage begins to boil in his blood.

"No, it wasn't Araj, I swear. I'd like to--" You try again, but can't.

"You'd what?" Astarion continues, leaning his forehead to yours, hoping to calm your nerves.

"I'd like to do what we talked about. Finally making our marriage real ...and holding up my end of our deal." You explain, swallowing your embarrassment.

Taking in your confession, Astarion overcomes his tiny state of shock.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I'd love to, darling." He whispers, hesitant to give you an answer.

“Are you sure?” You ask, sliding your hands to his shoulders.

“I’ve never wanted anything more for the last two years.” He replies, pressing his lips to yours.

*****

Guiding you back to the dark space of your shared private chambers, Astarion swung his cape from his shoulders, tossing it to a nearby wardrobe chest. Cupping your jawline with both hands, he passionately kissed you in the dimly lit room, carefully backing you towards the large bed. 

Carefully removing your dress, Astarion’s fingers graze around the curves of your hips before reaching your waistline, desperately ready to have you. Throwing the piece of fabric back into the room, you playfully gasped at the action, to which he replied with his signature smirk. 

“We can always buy you another one, dear.” Astarion said, just as he began removing his boots.

Taking off the remainder of his ebony robes, Astarion lifts you in his touch, gently laying you down. Tracing his lips over your shoulders, you gasped at his softness. 

“Astarion?” You asked, lifting your head to face him.

“Yes, my love?” He replied, giving you his full attention.

“…Go slow, please.” You hesitated, shyly squeezing his shoulder. 

A brief pause filled the air whilst he instantly knew what you meant. 

“Oh, then this’ll be delicious.” He teased, smirking at your request.

Descending your body, Astarion sank to his knees before continuing up your nude form with sweet, yet feverish kisses. Gliding his way down to your inner thighs, his lips ran along the sensitive skin, before parting your folds with his tongue, earning himself your first real moan.

“That’s it, darling. Don’t hide your lust from me.” Astarion instructed as he held your hips down. 

Gathering your bundle of nerves in his mouth, his tongue pushes past your entrance. Swirling around your ecstasy, and he took his time eating you out before you eventually came all over his tongue. Collecting yourself, the stars in your eyes faded and you were greeted by the sight of Astarion hovering above you. 

“You alright?” He asked, observing your current state. 

“More than alright.” You answered with a quick giggle. 

“Excellent.” He smiled, then guided your legs around his hips. 

Aligning himself with your dripping folds, Astarion teased you with his erect tip, prepping you to take all of him. Pushing his manhood past your entrance, you both moaned together at this feeling. Slowly moving his hips against your own, Astarion heeded your wishes, and took in your lust that was clogging his lungs. 

Grazing his teeth over the flesh of collarbones, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, prompting him to continue. Astarion’s sharp fangs teased your ticklish skin, forcing a layer of goosebumps to rise up. Feeling the rhythm of your pulse in his pointed ears, he enjoyed the pounding pace of your heartbeat one last time before thrusting deeper into you. 

Following in time with his thrusts, your hands slid down to his ass, and your shared moans became music to his ears. Feeling a heat rising in the pit of your stomach, you tensed at this sensation, but your husband was right there to guide you. 

Your walls tightened around Astarion’s cock which made him see stars beneath his red eyes. A growl emerged from his chest and he quickened his pace, riding out your orgasm with love and adoration. Finishing after you, you both held your sweaty and exhausted bodies closer just as rays of sunlight pierced through the gaps in the curtains. 

Collecting you in his arms, Astarion sat you on his lap, giving you reassuring kisses along the way. Running your fingers through his hair, you traced your fingers along Astarion’s eyebrows and jawline, humming at his eternal beauty, 

“If you were to do this, Y/N, there’s no going back. You’d be leaving your mortal life behind. Are you sure you want this?” He asks with a bit of sadness in his eyes. 

“I’m sure. This is what I want, and I want it with you.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair. 

Nodding at your decision, Astarion lowered his lips to your chest, pressing kisses to your bare breasts. Rolling his tongue around your nipples, he tugged on your breasts with his teeth before letting go with a satisfying pop. Trailing up to your collarbones, the echo of your pulse rang in his Elven ears, causing them to tingle. 

The sharpness of his fangs gilded against your neck, tickling your throat as Astarion gathered you in his arms and bit down on your flesh. Sinking his teeth into your warm skin, he ravished in the taste of blood. The sweetness drove him mad and he took what he desired. The sounds of your voice brought him back, Astarion continued and carefully bit his own wrist before encasing your lips around the small wound. 

Drinking in his blood, Astarion gently laid you back down, and watched you transform into your new vampire body, giving you the most beautiful pair of crimson eyes he’d ever seen. 

tagging ~

@dreamliners

@violetthecreator

@the-resident-vampire

@bitten-by-astarion

@loveandfictionforall

@tripleyeeet

@macabre-mangled

@demigoddessqueens

@sweatandwoe

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x y/n #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #the pale elf

[perlelune]

Happier Than Ever | Rafe Cameron

Loving Rafe was a rollercoaster you could never get off of. Sometimes thrilling, but mostly terrifying. And some way, somehow, he always found a way to draw you back in for another ride.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Drug Addiction, Drunk Driving, Kook! Reader, Toxic Relationship, Abuse, Emotional Blackmail, Suicidal Talk

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

You smile as Marissa tells her story once more. No matter how many times you hear it, it never gets old.

“Who does that? I mean he didn’t even have his driving license. I was so embarrassed-”

The rest of the girls in the circle you formed in the living room gasp. You nurse your beer before taking another sip. You take a bite of the birthday cake, humming in appreciation of the cinnamon and pineapple undertones. For a minute, you soak it all in. The soft pop pouring from the speakers in your friend’s living room. The casual chatter between friends.

You fold your legs beneath yourself, enjoying your cake in a corner of the couch.

It’s been a while since you’ve been able to enjoy a night like this. Quiet and calm. Not since your breakup. Spending time with your friends always fell to the wayside in your previous relationship, your ex finding issues with how much time you spend with them instead of him. It wasn’t uncommon for you to drop everything whenever he called. Girls’ night outs. Sleepovers. Even birthdays, like today.

He was the sun around which your entire life orbited and he couldn’t stand anything or anyone stealing your attention away. It took you a long time to leave. More than you’re comfortable admitting.

It’s not like things were bad all the time. In fact, most of the time, they were good. Not just good. They were great. So great you easily forgave and forgot. Forgot about the tears. Forgot about the rough hands on your skin. Forgot about the cruel words. Forgot about the screaming and nights lying awake, wondering what you did wrong for him to be so angry at you again.

He was a magician. With the right words and that twinkle in his ocean gaze, he could make all the hurt vanish. Like none of it was ever there to begin with. The same eyes that made you feel small could make your stomach flutter. The same mouth that would praise you could tear you down as easily.

Your heart was never at rest, as you never knew which version of him you’d get on a particular day. The sweet and kind version. Or the paranoid and volatile one.

So many little things could set him off. A throwaway comment from his dad. An argument with his sister. Some stranger's gaze resting on you half a second too long. 

Nothing you did could ever get that chip off his shoulder. No amount of care, patience or love could ever reassure him enough. It was exhausting, which is why you left. Well, more like…ran away. Avoided his side of the island. Ghosted him. Hid away really. 

It’s been a few weeks now. You are slowly retrieving some semblance of peace in your life. It’s easier when he’s not around. Easier to breathe. Easier to move around.

Marissa turns to you.

“I’m so happy that you could make it.”

You beam at her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She pauses, her fingers tapping the side of her beer bottle.

“You did last year,” she points out. 

You tense. Last year. You never even told her what that was about. You were dressed up and ready and he stopped you on your way out, questioning why you were looking this good for “just some chicks’ get-together”. You shudder as the memory flashes through your brain. Needless to say you never made it to your friend’s party.

“Yeah…sorry about that,” you mumble, scratching your arm.

She smiles in reassurance, squeezing your arm.

“It’s okay. But no more missing my birthday, okay?”

“Okay, promise,” you reply, nodding.

The conversation is halted by the buzzing of your phone. Your chest clenches at the sight of the familiar name across the screen. Marissa steals a glimpse from across the couch and tilts her head in disapproval. The two of them were oil and water, never getting along. In fact, she got in his face quite a few times. And he seemed to enjoy riling her up even more.

“Don’t answer that.” She nudges your shoulder. “I already told you, you need to block him.”

In theory, you know you should sever all ties. But you haven’t found the nerve to cross that bridge yet. Sending him straight to voicemail and leaving him on read is the height of what you can achieve right now. Besides, you shudder to think how he’d react to you blocking him. He damn near broke your door down the day after you texted him that you two were over.

“It could be important…” You get to your feet, stepping away from the couch and your friend’s critical stare. “I’m just gonna tell him to stop. I’ll be right back.”

You head to the balcony. You inhale a lungful of courage before swiping to accept the call. 

“Hey, angel. Miss me?” Rafe slurs drunkenly. 

Your brows knit. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re like this, Rafe.”

He barks out a derisive laugh. “You hear this shit, bro? Acting like she cares about me all of sudden.”

Your chest twinges, his words hurting more than they should.

Another familiar voice faintly echoes in the background. 

“Is that Topper?”

Your frown deepens. They both sound too inebriated to be driving anyone home, let alone themselves.

As you ponder if you should call Sarah or Ward, a crashing sound echoes through the phone, the boys’ laughter dying. Your stomach drops. 

“Rafe?” you call. 

You frantically text him. When you get no response, you try Topper. He doesn’t pick up immediately. 

At least twenty minutes slog by in terrifying silence.

Chewing on your thumb, you wait for the call to reach him.

When you finally hear his voice, relief seeps through you. If he’s fine, then Rafe must also be, right?

But your hopes are swiftly pulverized when he informs you that Rafe is being transported to the hospital. Panic flutters through you. You don’t want to care. You and him aren’t together anymore. It’s not your problem…Except it is. You can’t quell the worry pooling in your gut, the racing of your heart at the thought that Rafe could be hurt. Or worse.

Anxiously rubbing your hands, you head back to the living room. Marissa won’t like what you have to say, but dread has wrapped its fist around your heart since you heard that horrifying sound on the other end of the line, and hasn’t eased up since. The not knowing is worse than anything.

Noting the contrite pinch to your face, your friend heaves out a deep exhale.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to see him,” she says.

You chew on your lip. You know how this looks. Like you’re that girl who picks a guy over her friends again. Still, you remind yourself it’s not like the other times. You aren’t together anymore. You’re over him. You’re way past that. You’re just making sure he’s safe.

“I think something happened. Something really bad.”

Marissa shrugs and takes a swig of her beer. You try to ignore her and your other friend’s pointed stares. Their quietness speaks volumes, the weight of their judgment bearing heavily in the room.

“He always does that. Who knows if he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You mean crashed his car on purpose? Marissa, come on…”

She tosses her head backwards, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Whatever. I’m used to you bailing.” She glances at her freshly painted nails. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Her accusation aches but you shove it aside. You bid everyone goodbye and grab your keys from the lobby. 

The entire drive your heart is in your throat, your clammy hands tight around the wheel.

The worst scenarios keep playing in your head like a horrible nightmare. The picture of Rafe, a white sheet draped over his unmoving body, won’t stray from your raging thoughts. Why do you feel like this is your fault? He always had troubles with overindulging in liquor and other party favors. It’s something the two of you often argued about. But he had gotten better about it lately, before the breakup. He’d thrown away the drugs, eased up on the drinking. He was better. It’s part of why leaving felt okay.

Your eyes well up with tears. You wipe them in frustration, focusing on the dark road ahead. 

Sucking a wide breath, you remind yourself. You’re not responsible for Rafe. None of this is your fault.

Still, as you pull into the hospital’s driveway, guilt lingers within you.

Thanks to Topper’s instructions, you find Rafe’s room quickly.

You’re a breathless mess when you arrive, having raced through the white corridors. Sarah and Wheezie hug you as soon as they see you. You return it, having missed them in the last few weeks. You had come to think of the youngest of the Cameron siblings as the little sister you never had. You often went out to have ice cream while she told you of the gossip from her school. As for Sarah, the two of you go way back. While not the closest, you’ve been in the same circles since kindergarten. The puffiness of her brown eyes doesn’t escape you. While there’s no love lost between her and her big brother, she seems as shaken as you are.

Ward greets you with a nod. Meeting his gaze is difficult. He always told you you were a good influence on his son. A good girl from a good family. That you were exactly what Rafe needed to set himself straight and finally grow up. You can tell from the way his blue eyes are trained on you that Ward is a little disappointed, that he expected you to stick it out through the storm with his son. The people-pleaser inside you shrinks a bit at that.

Rose at least appears to empathize with your plight, flashing you a quick smile. She too seems to have cried, which stuns you the most. It’s no secret she and Rafe have never gotten along.

The Camerons make space for you to tiptoe further inside the room.

You take shaky steps towards Rafe. It hurts seeing him like that, hunched over at the edge of the bed in a hospital gown. While he’s not attached to tubes and wires, your chest seizes as you note the sling around his left arm, his busted lip and the long cut running across his brow.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Ward says, gesturing at his daughters to vacate the room.

Silence hangs for a while after the rest of the Cameron clan leaves, giving you and Rafe privacy. Eyes clinging to the floor, you girdle your breath until he speaks.

“You came.”

You look up, Rafe’s cool tone startling you. You approach him.

“Of course I came.”

The muscles of his jaw clench.

“You didn’t have to,” he says curtly.

You cup his cheek, “Rafe-”

He slaps your hand away, his eyes rolling back as he unleashes a heavy sigh.

“Don’t,” he snaps. He sniffs and chuckles but it lacks humor. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You don’t give two shits about me.”

Disbelief strikes you. How could Rafe utter such words after everything you’ve been through together?

Your brows furrow as you graze his arm, whispering softly, 

“That’s not true, Rafe and you know it.”

“Do I?” He taps his temple with his healthy arm, stammering angrily, “C-Cause I had so many thoughts in my head when you left…”

“Rafe-”

“I know we weren’t perfect but I thought we were pretty happy, y’know?” 

A surge of tears presses beneath your lashes.

“We were.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Sometimes. But you weren’t…” Your lip quakes as you’re hit with the remembrance of how bad his mood swings were. You rub your neck, the phantom sensation of Rafe’s fingers squeezing it tight sizzling your flesh. Your voice comes out small. “We weren’t good for each other, Rafe.”

He bites his bottom lip and slowly releases it before sneering, “Bet you’d have preferred if I died tonight, get it all over with.”

“What? How can you even say that?” you say, your pitch spiking with shock.

“Y’know maybe I should…Maybe I should just get my dad’s gun, blow my fucking brains out and stop being such a burden to you.”

He mimics the gesture of shooting a gun through his skull and tears spill over your cheek.

You cradle his face.

“Don’t say things like that, Rafe. Please…” you sob.

“What else am I supposed to say, huh? You left me. Bet you think I’m a fuckup too. Just like my dad.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I wanted to die.”

“Rafe.”

His watery gaze dives into yours.

“When you left, I wanted to fucking die.”

Your breath falters.

“Being without you is hell, angel.” Desperation oozes from his voice. “I just wanted to feel…I don’t know, anything else.” He buries his face in his hand, mumbling under his breath, “I-I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined breaking up with Rafe would send him in such a state. A wave of guilt consumes your insides. Perhaps it was selfish, taking your distance the way you did. 

You place your hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know things were this bad for you. I’m sorry.”

He snorts. “I mean, how could you? It’s not like you answer when I call.”

The air chills around you. Your lips clamp shut at that, your head lowering. You did ignore all of Rafe’s calls. And now you find yourself wondering if there were cries for help, if he was drowning and needed you to pull him ashore. If you had picked up, just once, maybe he wouldn’t be here right now. 

The doctor comes in and you step back. Rafe is thankfully cleared, presenting no concussion or major injuries besides his broken arm. You meet Topper outside and are relieved to find him in much better shape than your ex. Outside of a nasty scrape on his cheek, he’s completely unharmed. 

“Were you drunk too?” you can’t help but ask him.

“I…Yeah, but I wasn’t the one driving.” Topper hesitates, nervous as his eyes meet yours. “Rafe, he…he took some other stuff at the party.”

“I figured,” you sigh.

“He just kept driving faster the more he ranted about you.”

Your chest clenches. You glower at him.

“You’re supposed to be his friends, you and Kelce. You’re supposed to look out for him.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

Your gaze darts around the hospital corridor.

“Where’s Kelce, anyway?”

Topper scratches the back of his neck.

“He…passed out in a bush at the party.”

Your shoulders sag. Typical Kook shenanigans. Not one of those boys could actually behave responsibly. All they ever do is enable each other and egg each other on to do stupid shit. Then they let someone else clean up their mess. Fatigue settles over you. You’ve been here before. 

You glance at your phone. It’s beyond late. You walk up to Ward.

“I should probably go back home now. I only wanted to check on Rafe, make sure he's okay."

Crossing his arms, the Cameron patriarch astounds you when he utters, “Why don’t you stay at Tannyhill tonight?”

You flash a nervous smile.

“Mr. Cameron, Rafe and I-”

“I know you two are broken up, and I get that.” He heaves out a weary sigh as he considers Rafe. “I know my son has…issues, sweetheart, but he always did better around you.” His piercing gaze travels from Rafe to you. “He hasn’t been doing well since you left him.”

You recline into silence. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Rafe look this defeated. It worries you. You have no desire to give him the wrong idea but you also don’t see yourself just going home after hearing the things he shared with you. While you don’t plan on getting back with him, you can’t just abandon him.

“Okay. But just for tonight,” you specify. 

Ward beams at you. “That's all I ask, sweetheart.”

You end up getting into a car with Ward, Rose and Rafe. Wheezie trails behind Sarah, as you let her borrow the keys of your truck to drive Topper back home. She promises to return them to you in the morning. A heavy quiet coats the air as you share the backseat with Rafe, his stepmom sitting in the front with Ward. He’s not even looking at you, his blue eyes glued to the window. Dejected, you twine your hands in your lap. You’re used to that, Rafe ignoring you when he’s upset. But tonight it stings even more, fueling the guilt simmering inside you.

As Ward’s car pulls into the long alley of the Cameron’s mansion, nostalgia tugs at your heart.

Tannyhill was practically a second home to you this past year. Your parents travel a lot for work and Rafe used to coax you into staying with him most nights, just so you’re not alone.

You don’t even think as you follow Rafe to his bedroom, your feet carrying you absently since you’ve done it so many times before.

You inspect the room. Nothing’s changed since the last time you were here.

He grimaces as he struggles to remove his clothes while wearing the sling.

“I can’t get this fucking shirt off,” Rafe grumbles.

You trudge up to him.

“Let me help you.”

Rafe observes you, falling strangely quiet while you slip off his shirt for him. Your cheeks heat when you do the same for his pants. 

When you’re done, you try to head for the door.

Rafe’s hand clutches yours, halting your departure.

“Stay… please, angel? You can wear one of my shirts like you used to.”

A forlorn expression decorates his features. Despite your best efforts, it tugs at your heartstrings.

You gnaw on your lip. “It’s probably best if I stay in the guest room.”

His thumb sweeps over the inside of your palm.

“I won’t try anything funny, I swear…if that’s what you’re worried about.” His brows draw together. “I’m just in so much pain, and I can barely move my arm.”

You unleash a resigned breath.

“You promise to stay on your side of the bed?” When a playful smile creeps on his lips, your tone sharpens. “Rafe, I’m only here as your friend. I’m serious.”

His gaze narrows, suspicion sneaking in his tone. “Why? You’re like seeing somebody now or some shit?”

“No, I’m not.” You pause before adding cheekily, “And even if I were, it’d be none of your business.”

His cheek pulses.

A flicker of jealousy ignites his gaze, indicating that, in Rafe’s opinion, who you're seeing now is still very much his business. But his features smooth over quickly, his voice mellowing.

“I’d just feel better if you slept next to me, angel. I don’t feel like I’m asking for much, am I?” He pauses before sneering, “Or do you hate my fucking guts so much that I can’t even ask for a little favor?”

“I don’t hate you, Rafe.”

He cocks his head, hope lacing his deep timbre.

“Really? You don’t?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” you admit.

A wide grin blooms on his face at that. He curls his hand around your waist, pulling you a little closer. 

“Then prove it. Stay with me tonight.”

His blue eyes are honest, pleading. Your resolve thaws like ice in the summer heat. 

“Fine,” you yield. You gear yourself to leave, announcing, “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

The hand on your waist tightens as he teases, “Why not here? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before-”

“Rafe,” you scold, prying his fingers off your waist.

He snickers, lifting his hand. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

A pang of melancholy pierces your chest when you pick one of Rafe’s shirts to wear in bed. It feels a little weird sharing a bed with him when you’re not together anymore.

When you step out of the bathroom, you steal a glance at him. The blanket only covers half of his body, exposing the bare, suntanned muscles of his chest. You ignore Rafe’s smirk as he catches your lingering gaze. Averting your eyes, you make your way to your side of the bed.

You slip under the covers, reassured that he’s respecting your wishes by giving you space. But it doesn’t last.

In the middle of the night, you’re forced to berate him for breaking the boundaries you set.

His good arm snakes around you, his broad chest draping over your back.

“Rafe…”

He nuzzles your neck from behind, humming as he basks in your smell. “Please, just let me have this,” he begs.

You sigh. You don’t have it in you to deny Rafe tonight. Not when he could have died. Not when you feel some responsibility for that. 

“Okay, but no wandering hands.”

He nods and snuggles even closer to you. You can’t help but grow a bit dizzy as the familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne clogs your senses.

You close your eyes and drift into sleep.

In the morning, you wake up to Rafe dragging his fingertips along your cheek, an entranced expression etched on his features.

“I missed waking up like this,” he rasps.

For a while, as you get lost in how bright and blue his eyes look in the soft morning glow, you forget. Remembrance settles over you however when Rafe’s thumb travels to your bottom lip. This is the kind of thing you can’t allow anymore.

Clearing your throat, you sit up and remove his hand from your face.

“Well don’t get used to it.”

Rafe’s brows crumple. “Ouch. When did you get so mean, angel?”

“I learnt it from you.”

He actually seems taken aback by that, speechless as he gapes at you.

His surprise allows you to make a beeline for the bathroom.

“Dibs on the first shower,” you chime, slamming the door closed before he can make another comment that sends your heart in a frenzy.

You use Rafe’s time away in the bathroom to focus on another task. A very important task. One you call the post-bender sweep. It’s a little tragic that you even have a name for it, or that you’ve had to do it so often. So you roll up your sleeves and begin rummaging through all of Rafe’s drawers. No corner of the room is left unchecked.

It’s how he finds you as he steps out of the shower, damp blonde locks grazing his forehead, the towel hanging low on his tapered waist. 

Confusion fills his cobalt eyes. 

“What are you doing?”

“I know you weren’t just drunk last night Rafe. Topper told me everything.”

“Fucking snitch,” Rafe hisses. He inches closer to you. “Look, I’m gonna get it together, alright?”

You crouch near the bed and reach under the mattress. Rafe’s face goes taut as you feel between the wooden slats. “Angel-”

Your fingers dislodge a plastic bag between the slats. You examine its insides. 

“Coke, expected. Well that…is new. Is that meth?” you list sourly. You wish you could say you were disappointed. Instead, you’re just exhausted and vaguely angry. This is a step back. A huge one. “This is poison, Rafe.”

You get to your feet and dash to the bathroom. As you empty every ounce of powder, crystals and every single pill into the toilet bowl, Rafe grips the side of his head. Panic flickers on his face.

“That’s 10k down the drain.”

“Well, Barry can go through me. I’m not letting you do this to yourself again.”

You flush the toilet and meet his eyes. Their intensity has you shifting in discomfort.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

His lips slowly curve upward.

“You still care about me.”

Your heart skips a beat. You blink and shuffle away from the toilet. False hopes, you recall, you weren’t supposed to give them to him. You decide to steer him away from that line of thought.

“Of course I do,” you reply. “You’re my friend.”

Rafe’s smile vanishes. His tone becomes clipped. “Friends, huh? Okay.”

Your plans to only stay the night are thwarted at breakfast. After sharing a copious meal with the Camerons, Ward pulls you aside, practically begging you to prolong your presence at Tannyhill for his son’s sake. 

“You and I both know he needs you, sweetheart.”

At first, you’re hesitant. This wasn’t the plan. You’ve fought so hard against the instinct not to put Rafe’s needs and wants before your own. Tooth and nail quite frankly. The first week after your breakup, not picking up when he called made you physically ill.

You wept about it for days, and almost ran right back into his arms. Without your friends, you probably would have.

Now, your life’s back on track. You can breathe again. You’re happier. The crippling fear of what Rafe would say or think does not hover over your every move anymore.

When Sarah returns your truck’s keys, you consider driving yourself back home and never looking back. Your fingers curl around the keys. It’s right there beneath your palm, your freedom. But there’s just one tiny issue. Rafe’s misty eyes catch yours across the table. And in less than a second, you don’t belong to yourself anymore.

So you remain at Tannyhill much longer than you’d like, taking care of Rafe and spending nights in his arms. The ambiguity of the situation fosters doubts in your mind, threatening the fragile equilibrium you found.

So as soon as Rafe’s noticeably improved, you elect to go back home. One morning, you rise with the sun and start collecting all the things you left behind in his room. It’s imperative to create some distance between you and him again. After all, you’ve gone above and beyond. Initially, this was about checking on your friend. A blind man could see that Rafe wants more than that however. You fear things will spiral to a point of no-return if you don’t leave now. You did so well these last few weeks, getting over Rafe. Or trying to at least. Now all that hard work is on the rocks.

Displeasure paints Rafe’s features as he watches you shove as many of the stray objects you scattered in his space inside your bag. You ended things so abruptly the first time that you never bothered coming back to collect everything you left in Rafe’s room.

“Come on, you could stay a little longer,” he pleads.

“It’s time for me to go home, Rafe.”

“Then just stay the night. You can leave tomorrow.”

“Rafe, it’s been well over a week.”

He sucks his teeth, sniggering meanly, “That excited to be rid of me, huh?”

Your forehead creases.

“It’s not like that.”

Rafe scoffs, “Nah, I get it. You’ve moved on and you never want to see me again, right?”

“Rafe…”

His fingers thread through yours, drawing you back to him. Towering above you, he whispers, “It's just one night. It won’t be different from the other ones. I just want to be able to feel you one last time.”

You purse your lips. You could never say no to anything Rafe asks when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his lifeline, the only thing keeping his head above water. 

It's probably not a great idea. Rafe’s been getting handsier than you’d like these last few days, and you didn’t have the heart to push him away. But what’s one more night? You’ll be gone tomorrow anyways.

“Okay,” you concede.” But I’m really leaving tomorrow.”

A victorious grin breaks out on his face.

“Of course, angel.”

At first, your last night at Tannyhill does indeed seem like the others. You slip under the covers next to Rafe, as you’ve done every other night. His light snores fill the room, his arm finding its way around your waist. Like always. You’ve gotten used to this. You don’t protest, finding comfort in the knowledge you’ll be done with everything Rafe Cameron the next day.

So you let him get close once more. His heat encases you as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. You don’t even give much thought to the thick bulge poking the small of your back. This is Rafe. He grows hard half the time when you cuddle. Usually, you get him to back off with a frown and a light shove on his chest.

But tonight’s different.

He starts rubbing against you, his hand sneaking below the shirt covering your body.

“Rafe? What are you doing?” you whisper, your voice high-pitched from shock.

“Shh, quiet, angel,” he hushes, trailing sloppy, heated pecks along your neck and shoulder.

“Rafe, you can’t…” Your voice dwindles to a gasp when his digits creep between under your ass, teasing your folds through your panties. He pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingertips. You bite down a sharp cry. 

“I said I wanted to feel you one last time, angel.”  

He shoves a finger inside your panties and sinks between your walls. The embarrassing squelching of your cunt echoes in the room, Rafe beginning to pump inside you at a steady pace. Naturally, he knows exactly how to move his fingers to turn you into a panting, shivering mess against him. You try to resist it, ignore the fire rising in your core, but your skin is easily set ablaze by Rafe’s familiar touch. Your belly knots. Tingles bloom on your flesh. He sweeps along your tender spots and you choke on your spit.

Heat gathers in your face as you grow slicker beneath Rafe’s hand.

He tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Rafe shifts position. He places himself above you and shimmies out of his boxers. Alarm bells ring inside your head when his thick tip prods at your entrance.

“Rafe…”

Words wither on your tongue as he buries his cock inside you in one blunt thrust. A quiet scream flies from your mouth, your chest heaving.

“Don’t be like this,” Rafe grunts, arrogance dripping from his lustful timbre. “I know you’ve been missing how my fat cock feels inside that tight little pussy, right?”

“We’re broken up, Rafe,” you wheeze out, struggling to catch your breath as your walls strain at his size.

“So?” He pulls out of you, only to sheathe himself inside your wet heat again. Your eyes roll back, your fingers clutching weakly at the sheets.

Rafe’s half-lidded gaze darkens as he drinks you in, his tone getting possessive.

“You’re in my bed, wearing my shirt. I’d say that makes you mine.”

The protests on your tongue evaporate, your thoughts dipping into a tailspin as Rafe slams his cock inside your dripping cunt. Desperation and lust marks each of his deep, pointed thrusts. Your head tosses over the pillows.

Stars fill your sight, pleasure swirling through your limbs. Air dwindles in your lungs as he stretches you out deliciously. His thick cock brushes against your sweet spot repeatedly and your lids flutter. Rafe’s own breaths grow more ragged. His throat bobs, his hard muscles clenching with his motions. He balances his arm above your head, looming over you as sweat dots on his brow.

His warm breath grazes your face as he chuckles.

“It’s like coming home, right? Like I never left.”

“I’m gonna get my shit together. I swear to you, angel.” He rests his forehead against yours. Rafe’s masculine scent floods your senses and your mind spins. You keen as he snaps his taut hips into yours, helpless as Rafe cages you with his frame. “Just don’t leave me again, okay? Please, I need you.”

Over the next few weeks, while his arm is healing, you and Rafe relapse into old habits. First, it’s that night at his house, the one that stirs your unease for a while. Then it’s a quickie in the back of his truck after he offers to drop you off one day. Progressively, it becomes more than that. Dates and late night calls, like before. 

Rafe complaining to you for hours about Sarah or the weight of his dad’s expectations. Rafe sending flowers to your doorstep. Rafe making butterflies swarm in your stomach when he tells you that you’re the only one who understands him.

The walls you erected crumble day by day, shattered by his persistence to win you back. He showers you with gifts and attention on a near daily basis now, even going as far as planning the most romantic evening for Valentine’s day. Though you had plans with your friends, Rafe is so adamant to have you all to himself that you ditch Galentine's day cocktails to be with him.

Slowly but surely, the Cameron heir weasels his way back into your heart. 

Most of your friends aren’t thrilled with your decision, of course. Marissa in particular.

“Guys like him don’t change,” she tells you one night as he’s blowing up your phone with texts inquiring about your whereabouts. You fervently disagree. He’s just worried about you, you convince yourself. That's how much he cares.

Of course Rafe has changed. He’s earning your trust, one day at a time. He has his temper in check. He’s better now. He’s proven it several times.

Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

Besides, though you struggle to admit it, there’s something intoxicating about being Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend. A feeling so heady and electric. One you shamefully kind of missed.

You trust Rafe. Those are the words that keep playing in your mind as you wait for him downstairs. You fiddle with your solo cup, taking a tiny sip of your beer. Techno music blares from the speakers in Kelce’s living room. The girls next to you gossip about a crush on some guy you don’t know. You feign interest, giving a dull nod and a smile every now and then. Lavish, hedonistic Kook parties aren’t exactly your scene anymore. Rafe practically had to drag you here.

The initial plan was to meet with your friends tonight. But Rafe closed off when you told him that. He then pleaded with you to come. You caved in, because refusing him has been incredibly difficult since the accident. So you’ve stopped trying to argue with him. 

You go along with most of what he asks, even if it stirs your discomfort at times. 

You glance at the time on your phone. 

Rafe said he needed to go to the bathroom earlier. 

That was nearly thirty minutes ago. Your brows draw together. Taking a leak shouldn’t take that long in theory, right? Or are you this paranoid now?

Still, you can’t quell the dread tickling your insides. A sense of deja vu seeps through you.

Your feet carry you upstairs, guided by your urgent need to find Rafe. 

Kelce’s house is huge and you nearly get lost multiple times. Your cheeks flame as you stumble upon a couple in one of the guest rooms. You hastily apologize and slam the door shut, resuming your search. It takes you a long time of blind wandering through endless corridors before you find him. 

He’s indeed in a bathroom. At least that, he didn’t lie about…unlike the line of coke he’s snorting above the sink.

“Rafe?” you call, frozen on the doorstep. “What are you doing?”

A brief glimpse of panic flits across his face before he bursts out in laughter.

He makes his way to you and tilts your chin upward.

“It’s a party, I’m just having fun. You should try it sometime.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not the point. You promised...”

Rafe sniffs, wiping the remnants of white powder beneath his nose.

“Come on, just relax.” He crowds your space, placing his hands on each side of you on the door. It slams shut as Rafe presses his body against yours, his voice sinking to a lewd rasp. “Why don’t you and I get into the hot tub downstairs and…”

“No,” you assert. “You promised, Rafe. No more drugs.”

When he tries to cup your cheek, you shove his hand away. His jaw clenches.

“Why do you always have to be such a stuck up bitch?”

An astonished breath leaps off your throat.

“I’m sorry?”

Instead of apologizing, a broad grin stretches on his lips, “I’m just saying. Maybe you’re the one who needs to loosen up.”

You note the hollowness in Rafe’s eyes and the sweat glistening over his bare skin.

Tears rush to your eyes. You’ve learnt to recognize the signs. Empty promises, like always. Why did you expect things to be different this time?

You jump back from the door, slipping beneath Rafe’s arm. Wiping irate tears, you glare at him.

“This was a mistake. My friends were right. You’re never going to change.” 

You are such a fool. The depth of his deception didn’t hit you until you saw him bent over that sink. You caught him this time. Who knows how many times Rafe lied right to your face?

Once more, you allowed him to drag you into his spiral, offering no resistance and believing every sweet word and promise.

Closing your eyes, you suck in a deep breath. You think back to the last few weeks, to every time you surrendered an inch and Rafe took a mile. And you just let it happen. You land on a decision. This is the last time you let Rafe Cameron puppeteer his way back into your life.

You make a beeline for the exit. He impedes your path, towering over you as he stands before the door.

“Get out of my way, Rafe,” you hiss.

Rafe squints at you, taking slow, threatening steps towards you.

“Why? So you can leave me, again?” Something lurks in Rafe’s gaze, turning his blue eyes almost black. Chills crawl over your spine. You shrink, retreating as far as the restricted space in the bathroom allows. “No way, you’re not leaving me.”

You chew on your lip, a surge of adrenaline spiking through your veins. You try to run past him but he grabs your wrists and slams you harshly against the bathroom wall.

Your voice comes out a quivering sob.

“Rafe, don’t you dare…”

As you try to wrestle out of his hold, he bangs your head against the tiles. Sharp needles of pain pierce through your skull. You grow dizzy as your legs start shaking. Rafe uses the momentum to push you onto the floor. 

“Dare what, huh? Take what’s mine?” he snarls. His broad body drapes over yours. You taste the liquor on his tongue as he steals your lips in a rough, possessive kiss. A sick laugh leaves him when you bite his lip, drawing blood. A metallic taste fills your mouth. Through your hazy sight, you watch with horror as Rafe unbuttons his pants. 

He reaches under your dress, tearing your panties with one tug of his hand. Fear floods your veins. You writhe underneath him as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I think you’re forgetting, angel. You’re nothing without me.” His taunting whisper sears into your skin like a hot knife. “I made you, little Kook princess.”

Your mouth opens, a scream building in your throat. But it never makes its way past your lips, Rafe wrapping his hand around your neck as he impales you on his cock. Helpless whimpers roll off your tongue as he sets an unforgiving pace right away, ignoring each of your tearful pleas for him to stop. His scalding breaths ghost over your face. Beads of sweat drip from his skin to yours. Sobs shake your frame as you writhe beneath him, left with no other choice but to be the vessel for his anger and lust.

“I need you, just like you need me,” he mumbles hotly, trailing bites and kisses alongside your neck. The room dims around you with each painful stab of Rafe’s cock inside your bruised core.

The hand around your neck tightens, Rafe’s wrathful baritone edging on a roar.

“Don’t you ever try to leave me again. I won’t be able to take it, angel. In fact…” His lips skim over your earshell as he whispers, “I’d rather fucking kill you and myself before letting you walk out on me again.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #kook!reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader

[galedekarios]

gale as a professor at blackstaff academy

i have to say that at first i wasn't too sold on the (then still fanon) idea of a professor ending because of gale's own prior anecdote about being irked by his previous students and their inadequacies.

i thought it might not be a good fit for him as far as professions go.

but reading the epilogue files, i have come around on it.

i think it's just one more way in which he's really grown into himself, become content with who he was in the past, the mistakes he made and what he has learned from them, and the person he wants to be in the future:

Player: You? A teacher? I'd hardly say you set the best example for impressionable young wizards... Gale: I think it makes perfect sense. devnote: Surprised you wouldn't recognise this, a tiny bit offended you don't trust him to do this Gale: Who better to warn of the perils of misusing magic than someone who was once only a wayward sneeze away from destroying a mid-sized settlement? devnote: playing up to his past a bit, you can imagine this is how he acts with his students Tara the Tressym: Don't remind me of those terrible times, Mr Dekarios. My blood pressure has only just recovered.

a few more cute banters & things we learn about gale and his new teaching position:

tara swipes at students who fall asleep in gale's classes, which he himself doesn't mind. he, too, slept through some of them (like his calishite lessons):

Player: Perhaps that's a good thing. I'm sure they're far better students than I was... Gale: Ah, so you still remember our little lesson? devnote: A little bit bashful, it was a vulnerable moment for him Gale: 'Teaching' you was hardly an effort at all. Not like my present cohort of apprentices. devnote: Complimentary, pulling the thought back to the teaching element after getting lost in the memory of the moment Gale: They try their best, of course - when they can manage to stay awake. devnote: Not upset by this - he slept through his fair share of classes as a student Tara the Tressym: The cheek of them! Nothing a well-placed swipe from Tara can't fix, though.

2. gale offered to teach more subjects than illusion via simulacra:

Player: Only a professor? With your expertise, I'd have thought you could teach every kind of magic going... Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact. devnote: Secretly glad the player thinks so highly of him Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn't teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose. devnote: Reluctantly accepts that this was the right decision Gale: So, I've settled for teaching the art of illusion. Magic to confound the senses, to render the impossible into reality, and to allow expression of that most magical attribute of all - imagination. devnote: Selling it a bit - he wants to make sure you appreciate how cool this is

3. gale has told his students about the player's adventures and will invite a player to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you. Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower- Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

4. his students find him somewhat intimidating due to his backstory with mystra and the orb:

Gale: Well, that was quite lovely. I'm glad you're as pleased to see me as I am you. Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful to just be 'Gale' for the evening. Gale: I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. devnote: He plays up to his reputations a bit, so he isn't overly surprised Gale: Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. Gale: I surrendered the Crown of Karsus to her, as I told you I would. And in return, she cured me of the orb at last. Gale: Even now, I struggle to put the feeling into words. It was like exhaling for the first time, after holding my breath for so very long. Gale: Of course, I haven't clarified with my students that the orb is no longer a threat. The legend of my explosive capabilities is an excellent means of controlling a classroom. Too good, if anything.

5. he wants to teach his students that there is fun in studying magic:

Gale: I spend most of my time trying to convince them how much fun the study of magic can be, but it'd be easier to crack a smile on an intellect devourer than some of my pupils... devnote: Despairing a little, doesn't understand why they aren't all as passionate as he was Player: Or on a mind flayer, perhaps... Gale: Smiling may no longer come easy to you, but I've seen how your tentacles twitch at my jokes. Even the ones I'm not entirely certain I was trying to make... devnote: Last sentence a tiny bit self-conscious, aware that people sometimes find him ridiculous. Gale: Still, I hoped my students might be a little more open to the playful side of such magic.

anyhow, i hope this was insightful to someone! 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 patch 5 spoilers #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hii! Could you do a mizu w reader where one is injured (doesn't really matter which one haha) and it's like a hurt/ comfort?

Take your time and get some rest!!

Write this when I was on the verge of falling asleep, so if any of it sounds like it was coming out of my ass, it was. 🦦

‘Why did you do it?’ Mizu asked, choosing not to look at you but instead focus on your injuried chest with a hard glare.

‘Do what? Protect you from that smiley coward who was about to use unethical means to completely blindside you?’ You replied as though the answer wasn’t already glaringly obvious, you honestly didn’t understand why you had to explain your reasonings as for protecting Mizu and putting your life at risk, but if it meant showing them that someone did give a shit about whether they’d live or die; then you’d happily be that person for Mizu.

‘You had no need to protect me, I could’ve-‘

‘Easily defend yourself, I know Mizu.’ You interrupted them before grabbing ahold of their hand, memorising the feeling of callousness to memory, as you rubbed your thumb against the back of their hand reassuringly. ‘I know how strong and powerful and amazing you are. I’ve witnessed your fighting spirit first hand and it took my breath away. Literally because when we first met you knocked the wind out of my lungs with the butt of your sword, all because you thought I was some stranger about to attack you.’ You finished recounting the tale of how you first encountered Mizu with a small smile. Why? Maybe it was your way to direct their mind to a more happier and healthier memory, rather then have it stuck heavily focusing on the one where they had their back exposed to the enemy; the reason you now had a massive gash running across your chest. A gash that would surly become a permanent part of your body but also a painful reminder to Mizu.

A reminder that you could’ve been easily taken away from them.

A reminder that you’d always selflessly put them before yourself, even if that meant getting hurt, maimed, loosing a limb or worse yet; your life.

A reminder that they’ll have to get stronger if they wish to prevent you from doing so in the nearby future. Mizu knew that their revenge took presidency over everything else, even their own health, but they don’t want you to ruin yourself beyond recognition for them; It just didn’t feel right to Mizu to have you be the barrier between them and the ill intentions of other people. They were strong enough to deal with it but as it’s been made clear countless times before, you didn’t give two shits about that, and instead focused all your time and effort into showing them that they matter so much to you; Which is an admirable and respectable trait to have in Mizu’s eyes.

However that did little to quell the unease they felt upon witnessing your body drop at their feet in what felt like slow motion, just as the first sighting of blood that began to pool beneath you in such quick succession, that at one point Mizu genuinely thought they were too late to save you, this was proven especially more true when you didn’t awaken within the first couple of days after Mizu had stitched and then later covered your wound; all in due to the amount of blood you had already lost. So the feeling of being able to properly breathe again upon seeing you wake up made the uneasy feeling that little bit more bearable for Mizu.

‘While it’s appreciated to know that I can fully count on you to have my back in the heat of battle, it is not a necessity.’ Mizu states, bring the conversation back to where it was needed most, causing you to frown. ‘I should’ve known better than to think that he would honour me with a fair fight. I should’ve known that he’d play dirty the moment he realised the odds were stacked against him.’ Mizu adds, clenching their fists into the seams of their clothing, jaw clenched and their eyes become an unforgiving steel blue; all signs of their underlying rage toward themself and the cowardly man.

‘You didn’t know and that’s perfectly fine.’ You grunt as you slowly sat yourself up with Mizu’s hands supporting your endeavour whilst being mindful as to not reopen your wound. ‘It’s normal to not foresee things before they happen, otherwise it wouldn’t be considered an authentic human experience.’ You let out a little chuckle, all the while Mizu was left to sit there and narrow their brows at what you could’ve possibly thought was so humorous. ‘And to live an authentic human experience is to accept that you have limitations, especially during the moments where you wished you didn’t have any at all.’ You said as you looked into Mizu’s eyes hoping that your words were somewhat getting through to them.

‘We always question ourselves on how we didn’t see it coming, or how we didn’t see the signs but what we’re not taking into account is that we’re human. Not super powered beings of mythical origins nor gods but just plain old humans. We don’t get the luxuries that they do, however if there’s one thing we can pride ourselves in having, it’s how we take these moments to heart and learn from them going forwards.’ You smiled softly, seeing the sea of emotions within Mizu’s eyes. ‘Another thing we can pride ourselves on is our resilience and our willpower to continue paving the way forward. We get hurt but we always get back up because that’s the indomitable human spirit. That’s what we do.’

‘Where are you getting with this and what does it have to do with me allowing you in getting hurt?’ Mizu asked, curious and a little restless as to what this was all meant to mean. ‘The moral of this for you to not beat yourself up over being human for being human is all we’ll ever know how to be until our final breath.’ You explained, lifting their clenched hand within yours to press a kiss to the back of it, before placing it back onto their lap. ‘Instead of focusing on what has already come to pas, how about bringing your attention to the fact that I’m still here and I’m still breathing. Yeah?’ Mizu stayed quiet for a while, allowing for your words to sit with them as Mizu thought long and hard before finally reaching to a conclusion.

‘Only on the pretences that I get to teach you in the basics of defence.’ Mizu said. ‘As a precaution.’ They add.

‘As long as you don’t go hard on me.’ You chuckled, already visualising it.

Mizu gave you an almost missable smirk. ‘No promises.’

#mizu imagines #Mizu imagine #mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #blue eye samurai imagines #blue eye samurai x you

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, the last straw, arguing, violence, Sexually Explicit Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (angry/rough PIV, fingering, degradation kink), memories of past CSA, self harm, Bucky really, really fucks up.

Word Count: 4k

Previously On...: Tony sent you a very expensive apology gift.

A/N: Ya’ll are getting this early! Just one thing to say:

I am so, so sorry.

Coincidentally, this is getting posted on the day I'll be coming home from NoLa, so I'll arrive just in time to hear you all say how much you now hate me. Yay. -_-

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, lost in the dark colors, the reflection of the moonlight over the water. The sound of the door opening broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see Bucky shuffle into the room. 

“Hey, sweets,” he said, toeing off his boots.

“Hey,” you said without emotion, turning your face back to  the painting.

“Whacha lookin’ at?” he asked, coming to sit next to you on the couch.

“Apology gift from Tony.”

“What’s he apologizing to you for?” God, you couldn’t even muster up the energy to be angry at him.

“Calling out your unhealthy obsession with Jade in front of the team,” you said, voice flat. 

“I do not have an unhealthy obsession with Vix,” Bucky said, annoyance coloring his words. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing going on between the two of us before you start believing me.” 

“Maybe you should stop telling me there’s nothing and start actually acting like there’s nothing,” you said as you stood up. “Because honestly, I’m tired of hearing your empty words.” You began to walk away, but Bucky reached out and grabbed your arm.

“They aren’t empty, Pocket!” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it filled the room as if he’d shouted. “It fucking hurts like hell to hear you say that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that oozed from your voice now. “Your feelings are hurt now, so that changes everything. Let me put aside the pain I’ve been dealing with for months to reassure you.” You yanked your hand free from his grasp. “I’m exhausted, Bucky. Nothing is getting better. In fact, things are getting worse, and I keep pretending that I can be okay with things, but you just keep picking her over me, time and time again. I don’t deserve that. Not from someone who’s supposed to love me.”

“Pick her over you? That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” he said, voice rising.

“Is it?” you asked him. You pointed to the corner where your overnight bags sat waiting for a trip you’d never take. “Is that bullshit, Bucky? Cause we were supposed to be in the Catskills right now, but because that fucking cunt came crying for you, you went running to her and left me sitting here, alone and forgotten. Again.”

“Pocket,” Bucky ran a hand over the back of his neck, a sure sign you were ruffling him. “She needed someone to support her. She’s not like you– she doesn’t–”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Barnes!” you interrupted, shouting now. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m breaking up with you because of her and you still just stand there and defend her!”

Bucky’s face paled and his eyes went wide. “No,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard him.

“I said ‘no,’” he said, his voice louder, but still soft. “You're not breakin' up with me. Doll, please. I need you. You said you were gonna fight for us, fight for me. That’s what you said!”

“I’m so tired of fighting for you when you’re off fighting for her! I can’t do this anymore, Bucky,” you practically sobbed. “You are fucking destroying me and feel like you just. don’t. care. I can’t just sit here and let it keep happening. You say you need me, but you’ve made it clear time and time again that you don’t give a shit about what I need. Every time I’ve asked you to put a boundary between you and Carthage, you’ve stomped right over it. And I can’t keep living like this. Yesterday was supposed to be a celebration of one of the greatest accomplishments of my career, and she ruined it.”

“It wasn’t her fault she got bad intel!” Bucky shouted.

“Could you just FUCKING STOP?!” you screamed. “Stop defending her! She either royally fucked up or she set them up on purpose! Those are the only two options! Either way, the entire thing was her fault. Rhodey is unconscious– almost died– because of her! She’s got you so wrapped around her fucking finger that you can’t even see it, and I am SO. GOD. DAMNED. OVER. IT! You promised me you’d make it up to me,” you continued shouting at him. “You fucking promised! But as soon as she bats her lashes, your promises don’t mean shit! You keep making excuses, you keep saying you’re sorry, but you keep doing the same fucking thing over and over again, and the only thing your actions are promising is that she means more to you than I do!”

“That’s not true!” he shouted back at you. “You mean more to me than anything!”

“I don’t fucking believe you!” you screamed, your voice going hoarse.

“I’ll fucking prove it to you!” He grabbed your elbows and pulled you to him, kissing you with such force it would have knocked you over if he hadn’t been holding you up. The moment he broke the kiss for air, you slapped him across the face. Only to immediately kiss him again.

Within seconds, you were ripping at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel one another, skin to skin, your tongues battling against each other as though whomever could dominate the kiss could win your fight. Bucky literally tore your shirt in half before you pushed him down onto your bed. Crawling on top of him, you scratched your nails down his chest, hard enough to draw blood.

Bucky hissed into your mouth, reaching down to yank off his pants and boxer briefs. You hastily pulled them down and off his legs before climbing back up to his mouth. Your kisses were passionate, angry and feral, each of you trying to prove a point to the other. 

You felt both of Bucky’s hands grasp the waistband of your jeans and rip them open, sending the button and zipper teeth flying. “Those were my favorite fucking jeans,” you warned.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he growled, shoving a hand into your panties and finding your clit. You arched your back as he pinched and rolled it between his fingers, the aggression in his movements igniting your blood. You gasped as he shoved two fingers into you while simultaneously flipping you so you were now on your back and he loomed above you.

He pulled his hand from you, leaving you aching and empty. He kissed you as he divested you of what was left of your jeans and your panties. “Taste yourself,” he said, shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them, savoring the tang of your essence on his skin. Bucky groaned at the sight before pulling his fingers out and kissing you again. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, grabbing at your breasts and roughly kneading the flesh. “Look at me, Pocket. You’re mine.” You turned your head away, not wanting to meet his eyes, but Bucky would have none of it. Gripping your chin tight enough to leave a bruise, he yanked your head back so you were looking him in the eye. “I said, you’re mine.” He entered you then, the force of it nearly splitting you in half. “You’re mine and I’m fucking yours. Forever.”

He pounded into you as if his very life depended on it, and you clutched at his shoulders for dear life. “God, yes, Bucky,” you cried, all your resolve finally leaving you as the pleasure rose within you. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Only mine. Only fucking mine!”

With a roar, Bucky picked up one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit you deeper as he drove into you. His thrusts were punishing, as though he were trying to see just how deep he could get himself inside of you before you actually broke in two.

"You like that?" he murmured as he rutted his hips into you.

"Fuck, yes, please, Bucky-- just like that," you moaned. He had you close. So, so close. "Keep going."

"Yeah, I thought so, you dirty slut," he grunted.

"What?" you asked, pulling your head back into the pillow so you could stare at him, wide-eyed as he continued to pound relentlessly into you. His words had taken you aback-- this was not something your loving boyfriend had ever said to you before. You dropped one leg from around his waist and tried to pull the other from his shoulder.

"Knew you loved taking my cock. God, you're such a filthy whore for me."

"Bucky, stop." You pushed gently against his chest, but he was already so far gone to his lust that he didn't seem to hear you.

"Such a good fucktoy for me," he grunted, his pace quickening as he neared his release. You felt your breath coming hard and fast now, but not from your impending climax, which had died with his words, but from an oncoming anxiety attack. “You goin’ dumb on me already, like a good little cockslut?”

Flashes of your miserable childhood flickered through your head, the way Darren would call you his "good little money-making whore" after you'd been raped by yet another of his clients, or when he decided to violate you himself, calling you his own personal slut, his special fuck toy.

"Bucky," you shouted, punching him with your fists, desperate now to get him off you, out of you. "Stop! Get off of me! GET OFF OF ME!" You screamed, thrashing at him. You saw the moment your words registered-- his eyes lost their haze of lust and his hips stopped pumping into you.

"Doll?" he asked, looking down on you in confusion. "What's wr--"

"Get off me, get off me, get off me!" you shrieked as you rolled out from under him, your entire body suddenly on fire with shame and disgust. The second your feet hit your bedroom floor, you were reaching for your silk robe, wrapping yourself in it as though the thin fabric could protect you from his words. From him.

"Pocket," Bucky watched your movements, his eyes betraying his bewilderment at your actions. "What's going on? What did I do?"

"Why would you call me that?" you asked, your words coming out in between your desperate gasps for air. "Why would you say those things?"

Bucky sat up, reaching for you, but you moved away from him. "Baby, what things? What did I s--" Realization dawned on him then, and his entire face fell. "Shit. Oh, God. Oh, Pocket. Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I didn't think--"

"Why would you say that, Bucky?" you asked, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to break free. "You've never called me a-a-..." you couldn't even get the word out. "How could you do that?"

"Fuck, Baby..." Bucky began, running his hands through his hair in response to your distress, "I never... I thought you'd like it. I should have realized, after Darren..."

"Don't say his name!" You hadn't meant to shout at him, but you were damned if you were going to invite the ghost of your tormentor into the sanctuary of your room. "Please," you cried, "don't say his name."

Bucky got up and tried to wrap his arms around you, but you pulled away, feeling too vile, too dirty, to even let him touch you.

"Sweetheart, please," he began, reaching for you again, "you're shaking. Let me hold you." You shook your head as you moved away from him yet again, trying to steady yourself.

"Where did that even come from, Bucky? Why would you think... What would even make you think that was something I would want?"

Bucky's hand went to rub the back of his neck as he looked up at you from behind his lashes. "I... I heard girls... like that sort of thing. That it turns them on."

"You can't just start it out of nowhere," you cried, "It's something you need to agree on first! You can't just say it without making sure your partner's okay with it! And I can't believe you'd ever think I would be okay with it! God, who even told you that?" You couldn't imagine any of Bucky's friends saying something like that to him; hell, Steve would have a coronary before even suggesting it. Did he read about it in some degrading kink group online?

"I was talking to Vix, and she said--"

"You what?" you spun to face him, your words sharp in your shock.

"Vixen. Jade. I was talking to her during training one time and she said girls like it when guys talk to them like that during sex. Well, she said she likes it. Said it, uh, turns her on."

Your entire body froze as if you'd been doused with ice water. "You were talking to Jade Carthage about sex and what gets her off." Your voice was hard and clipped. It wasn't even a question, just a statement that made your stomach twist, but you had to make sure you had understood him correctly.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad," Bucky hemmed, "but sweets, I swear, it wasn't like that."

You called for FRIDAY to turn up the lights, no longer wanting to be trapped in the intimacy of the semi-darkness with him.

"It wasn't like that? Then please enlighten me, Bucky, what was it like? Jesus, how did you two even stumble into that conversation in the first place?"

"Baby," Bucky looked frantic as he grabbed his boxer briefs from the floor and tugged them back on, "I don't even remember how we got on the subject. We were sparring and I pinned her and--"

"You had a conversation about sex while you were lying on fucking top of her?" You could barely contain your rage; you were seething, about to vibrate out of your skin with revulsion.

"Honey, it's not that big of a deal, really."

"Not that big of a deal?" you asked, knowing you were about to tread into some very dangerous territory, but needing him to understand you. "So, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if I let Steve get on top of me and had him tell me what gets him hard? What makes him come?"

Bucky's jaw tightened immediately at the mention of Steve. "Don't," he growled. "Do not bring him into this. It's completely different."

"It's not, Bucky! It's a thousand times worse! God," you threw your arms above your head as you began to pace in front of your bed. "I can't tell if you're actually this naive or if you think I'm fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid, Pocket," Bucky's voice was quieter now, more restrained. "I... God, I just messed up. I'm an idiot. I didn't think it through and..." He trailed off and slumped onto the edge of the bed, his hands pushed into his hair as he stared down at the floor.

You could see his muscles craving to pull you back into his arms, but he resisted. His eyes flickered to you before darting away again, like looking at you caused him physical pain.

"Do you want to sleep with her? Were you imagining her while you were fucking me?" It was a reckless question to ask--a question that you didn’t want the answer to--but it slipped out before you could stop it.

Bucky's head whipped up, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at you. "What? No!" He stood abruptly, hands outstretched towards you. "Baby, no! God, no! I would never... I can't even believe you'd think... Don't even talk like that."

"But you took her kinks, her turn ons, and you brought them into our bed. You spoke words you knew another woman-- a woman you know I fucking loathe-- wanted to hear, you... you used them on me, knowing my history, and you didn't give a shit about what saying them might do to me!" Your voice was trembling with accusation, your body shaking with tremors of hurt and betrayal.

"No! No, sweetheart... it wasn't like that." He kept repeating himself, his words rushed, his face pale with shock and regret. "I didn't mean to disrespect you like that. I heard her say it and I thought... I mean, she's a woman too, right? So, if she liked it, I thought maybe you..." He trailed off, his expression one of sheer desperation as he tried to find the right words.

"But I'm not her. It wasn’t about pleasing me; it was about using what pleases her." You shook your head harshly, a lump forming in your throat. "You don't even see how wrong that is. And you shouldn't even have been having the conversation with her in the fucking first place!"

"What can I do?" Bucky pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he raked his fingers through his hair again. His face was etched with pain, regret seeping from every pore of him. "How can I fix this? Tell me how to make it right."

But you were too overcome by anger and heartbreak to think straight. You moved further away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to shield your heart from further damage.

“What did you tell her?” you asked, but Bucky looked at you with confusion etched across his face. “You said it was a conversation. I’m assuming she didn’t do all the talking. What did you talk about? Did you tell her what gets you off? What you like? Were you sharing intimate details about our sex life with a complete outsider? Did you tell her about your ‘sergeant’ kink?”

He didn’t need to speak for you to read the truth in the expression on his face.

The silence hung in the room, heavy and oppressive, as Bucky fought for words. A nerve twitched in his jaw, the only movement in his otherwise frozen face. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"I... Yes, I did," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "I didn't think it through. I didn't mean to... I just..."

His voice trailed off again and he sunk back onto the bed, looking completely defeated. His hands covered his face as if he were desperate to hide himself from your accusing gaze.

“Get out.” You couldn’t even stand to look at him. This was a betrayal beyond anything you’d ever have expected from him. 

Bucky’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at you as though he was seeing you for the first time.

"Get out," you repeated, each word a dagger. "I can't... I can't stand to even look at you right now."

Still, Bucky didn’t move. He just sat there in stunned silence, his face pale and his eyes filled with regret.

"I said get out!" Your voice was shrill, filling the room with a chilling echo that seemed to reverberate through every fiber of your being.

Bucky flinched at your tone, and finally roused himself to his feet. He looked at you one last time, his steel-blue eyes so full of pain that it made your heart ache despite everything. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else, like he might try to explain, but you’d had enough of his ‘explanations’ for the evening. Hell, maybe for the rest of your life.

Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes filling with a mixture of fear and dread as he nodded slowly. "Okay... yeah," he stammered. "I'll give you some space."

“No. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done, Bucky. This… this is unforgivable. We’re finished.”

"Doll," he breathed, the pet name he had given you sounding like a prayer on his lips, but a curse to your ears. "I love you... I'm sorry. I messed up, I know. But I love you."

“I don’t believe you.” You felt like your heart was being ripped apart as you watched him standing there, consumed by remorse. You had never seen him like this before, his usual charismatic confidence replaced with fearful uncertainty.

“Just go,” you whispered, turning away so you wouldn't have to see the pain in his eyes. You felt a sob rising in your throat, but you held it back, refusing to let it out while he was still there.

With every inch of him screaming resistance, Bucky walked over to the door and hesitated at the threshold. "I'll... I'll do anything to make this right, sweetheart," he promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I'll fix this... We can fix this."

But you remained silent, your back still turned to him as you tried desperately to keep your tears at bay. The sound of the door opening and closing behind him was deafening in its finality.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, suddenly feeling cold. The room was suddenly too big, too empty without Bucky's reassuring presence. You sunk onto the bed, burying your head in your hands as the events of the night washed over you with overwhelming force as you began to sob in earnest.

You weren't even sure what you were angriest about. He’d broken yet another promise and left you waiting, your romantic getaway forgotten so he could be by her side. He'd called you a slut and a whore. He’d discussed your sex life with Jade-- the one woman you hated above all others, and openly discussed her kinks with her, and his own desires in return. He'd forced her kinks on you without your consent.

And then there was the worst part of it all, the bit that made you feel sick and hollow: he'd failed to see what he'd done wrong.

You had thought Bucky knew you better, that he respected you more than this. You'd shared secrets and fears with him, things you'd never shared with anyone else, not even Tony. He knew your past, knew how much trust meant to you - knew how difficult it had been for you to open your vulnerabilities up to something more than just casual sex - and yet he'd violated that trust in such a profound way.

This was just beyond anything else that had come before it. You couldn’t see a way to move forward after this.

Numbly, you began to strip off the sheets from the bed, your hands shaking as you balled them up and threw them into a corner of the room. You couldn't sleep on them now, nor ever again. You couldn't bear the thought of lying down where he'd... where he'd...

Tears started to spill down your cheeks as the reality of what had happened set in. You tried to blink them away, tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. But it was too late. Tears blinded you as you moved through your space on muscle memory alone, grabbing a garbage bag from under the sink in the kitchenette and shoving the offending sheets into it to dispose of later. Boiling them in chlorine wouldn't be able to relieve them of the taint they now carried.

Once the offending sheets were securely bagged and out of sight, you stumbled your way into the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as it would go, you stripped from your robe and stepped under the scalding stream from the waterfall shower head.

Hissing as the water hit your body, you let yourself succumb to your emotions. You reached for your loofah and began scrubbing at your skin, doing everything in your power to wash away the intense feeling of shame that had permeated deep under your dermis. You scrubbed until your skin was red, until it was raw and cracked and bleeding, but it offered you no relief.

The sensations were familiar, the burning heat, the stinging of newly torn flesh. It had been so long since you had felt the need to ritually cleanse yourself like this, you had desperately hoped you'd finally found yourself beyond the need to do so, but just a few words from Bucky's mouth had sent you reeling backwards, back to being that worthless, vile, used up girl that no number of college degrees, fancy company titles, or board-approved computer programs could fully erase. It was in your DNA, and you couldn't escape it. You scrubbed and scrubbed until time had lost meaning.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[tiredcowboyy]

the return of the two kings

It takes 1500 years for it to finally happen and its not in the way merlin thought it would. He thought Arthur would return, but when a man that looks exactly like arthur sits beside merlin in his political science class, well merlin realises that reincarnation wasn’t completely off the table.

Merlin introduces himself on the 3rd class, the first two spent of him subtly studying arthur, his face, his mannerisms, trying to figure out if it was really him, though when he heard the voice and name any doubt was swept away.

From that point on they quickly grew as friends. Merlin wasnt really sure what to do, he was told arthur would return when the world needed him, but nothing about if he was reborn again with no memories of his past reign whatsoever.

It stresses merlin out for a while, he constantly was on edge for any world changing dangers, however after a while he just accepted that maybe there was no reason. Arthur was just born again and he should appreciate that.

They quickly grew close, becoming the best of friends and eventually roommates and merlin couldnt have been happier, content with have the blonde back in his life.

Until one day he gets this urge to walk near the lake of avalon again, something hes not felt like doing since he found arthur again. But he does, distantly thinking it was around this time of year he had lost his king all those years ago. So he goes, the sun still rising as he begins his usual route around the lake. He takes it in, smiling at how much life has changed since he last took this walk.

He was distracted so you cant blame him for how much he was caught off guard, really that wasnt his fault.

“Merlin?”

Despite what anyone who saw would say Merlin did not let out a scream.

He spins around and comes face to face with his best friend, his roommate, his destiny walking out of the lake soaking wet.

“Arthur? What are you doing here? And why are you in the lake? I-“

He pauses, the air ripped out of his lungs as he realises what hes actually looking at. Something was different. Something was wrong. Because this arthur wasnt wearing his usual jeans and jumper, his hair wasn’t slightly too long because hes been too busy with work to get it cut, he wasnt making some joke about merlins poor coffee making skills.

He was wearing chainmail and armour, a sword in his hand one that merlin hadnt seen since that day.

This wasnt the same arthur he left at home this morning, the same arthur who was too busy watching last nights football on catchup to make fun of merlin burning his toast, the same arthur who he has lived with for 6 years and thought was his arthur.

No, this was the same arthur that he held in his arms as he thanked him and took his final breath.

Merlin doesnt know what kind of sick game the world is playing on him but that doesnt matter,

Because now theres two Arthur Pendragons gracing this earth and merlin doesn’t think hes quite as cut out for this destiny thing as he thought he was.

#Maybe I actually write this #or someone else #either way I thought it was slightly funny #but also if I was merlin id be so stressed #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin #merthur #merlin emrys #merlin bbc #merlin and arthur #modern au #modern merlin #tiredcowboyys prompt #tiredcowboyys shenanigans

[admirxation]

the perpetual chase | chapter two

links to other parts: part one | part three

pairing: las plagas!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab) AND Chris Redfield x fem!reader (afab).

disclaimer: this fic will deal with dark content, containing topics of abuse, manipulation, non-con and under the DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT category. this is also a piece of fiction and i do not condone everything i write. you’re responsible for the content you consume and if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, click off now.

specific chapter warnings: death, attempted suicide, mention of losing a baby, trauma, imprisonment, & mentions of postpartum depression.

word count: 4k

a/n: i’m sorry for taking forever, i had a 10,000 word uni project, but i’m free for a little bit to get some writing done. just a mention, if u want to be tagged in chapters just comment or message me (just a note if ur a blog that has no content, and is ageless i wont interact). also to note anything italicised is a flash back to a memory.

Chapter two: Cruel Consciousness

“I’m… I’m sorry, Y/N, I love you, and I would never hurt you if… if —”

“I know Leon, I know who you are, but… I don’t think the real you can survive now.”

“I know… That’s why I need you to kill me right now… Please, I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much!”

“I’m sorry, Leon. I wish it had happened differently.”

“We would have been happier… l love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sensation of searing pain ripped through, the deafening roar of gunfire, and the overwhelming rush of fear and adrenaline flooded the mind. Voices were barely whispers, attempts to sit up and continue survival were slim to nothing; the vision was blurry, surroundings darkening as if god pulled the night sky in front of the peripheral. Right then and there, the feeling of coldness and abandonment set in, clouding every inch of known existence; it was so cold, with no warmth or comfort, just stranded in a vein of mystery that would forever be kept locked up like a forgotten trinket that has nothing left for existence but to collect dust, and be apart of fond memories — and only memories. Haunting silence set the scene — at first — with the icy tendrils creeping through the veins, numbness. Until a blood-curdling scream was released into the unknown and dark atmosphere.

In cold sweat with tears brimming up in his eyes, Leon had awoken from an icy cold abandonment, realising his sudden reality, remembering the feeling of unknown silence for years — he was in a coma for years, unaware and lost in his atmosphere, but had finally came back the to the material world that he knew in life. He slowly picked his limb body up, watching in utter surprise and bewilderment as he stared at his pale hands, shocked at how the light was now surrounding them and not perpetual darkness; he watched as his chest lifted up and down and appreciated how he was finally breathing, pressing his hands to his heart — it felt like a miracle a god bestowed upon him. This newfound appreciation continued when his hands travelled from his heart to his fingers pressing against his forehead damp with sweat; he couldn’t believe how his mind was clear now; there was no intrusion, no splitting of discomfort as two entities tried to squeeze into one consciousness, his mind and every physical manifestation belonged to him and only him now, feeling like there was no longer a parasite that manipulated every aspect.

That was when he remembered everything. He had constantly dreamed about you while in a coma; those final moments that resulted in his death were on replay in his mind, but when sympathy was granted to him, he would remember the sweet moments when it was an innocent crush next door. That moment in Spain was something he found comfort in consciously delving into. He sat there for a moment and remembered when he saved Ashley.

On his escape from that dreaded Island, he reminisced about how she had asked him to stay, with prominent hints. Still, he denied telling her, “I got to go see a girl back home,” while there was a tinge of disappointment in her voice, she didn’t dwell on it; she was happy and wished him well with the lucky girl; he was going to confess his feelings to you when he took Ashley back home and gotten his thank yous from the president. He had it all planned, the romantic gesture of flowers, telling you how he always looked forward to when you came knocking on his door with your cooking — he loved how caring you were for him. But after he had safely returned Ashley and gotten his thank you, he was dismissed to go back home, and that was when his reality had shifted.

He was coughing up blood, feeling weak as he tried to walk back to the car to be escorted home; he felt like it was nothing, at first, feeling like it was just exhaustion from the trip, which often happened with needing rest and to let his body fully recover from the pain and strain it went through. He ignored it at first, and it rested while he was being escorted back; he was returned home later in the night, and as the driver waved him off, he looked up to your window, noticing your silhouette move toward the curtains, smiling to himself that he knew you were still going to be up at the late hour. As he pulled his key… That was when it happened. An uncontrollable shock coursed through his body, feeling his muscles tense up and jaw clenching down as he grinned his teeth in pain, his fingers tensed up into balls of fists and collapsed on the ground as well as the bouquet he had just for you. This pain was familiar. Las Plagas. He watched his veins darkening, his body shiver in the darkness.

“I thought I was cured,” he whispered to himself, “no, no, I was cured; Ashley put me in Luis’... AH!” he tried to remain quiet, but the pain was now taking over and manipulating his autonomy.

He rushed into the darkness as people looked outside their windows in curiosity and worry, but Leon’s figure was nowhere to be found as he ran into the shadows. He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he tried to keep quiet, trying to accept his fate, as he pulled his gun from his trouser pockets and wished it ended right there not to cause harm as he saw back in that little village — all those innocent people who had lives, history, not lost from the parasite and resting in death.

“It’s not that hard; just do it,” he told himself as his shaking hand tried to pull the trigger, “you know how to shoot a gun. It’s not impossible. Don’t be a coward. Do the right thing.”

But he couldn’t do it.

The gun jammed when his finger finally pulled it back, feeling the metal shake against his head.

After that was when the parasite took over him, but unlike the people in Spain, it manifested alongside the consciousness and personality of Leon but still overpowered him—resulting in the pain and trauma caused to you. As he remembered everything that happened that night, everything he did to you, the pain he caused and how he dehumanised and objectified you — he was ashamed of himself. He remembered how he tricked you into falling in love with him, into relying on him through his abusive and manipulative behaviour; that was not who Leon was. He knew he was better than that, and he wanted to make it right with his new chance of life. Leon tried to move from the bed he was on, but his legs were unresponsive.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself as he pressed his fingers onto his legs. He could feel his fingers prodding his skin, giving him some relief that they weren’t paralysed; he needed to wait until they ‘woke up’ and allowed him to move about freely.

His body was almost… delayed; only his upper body was mobile and able to move freely, but he couldn’t just sit there and let this haunting memory eat at his conscience with guilt. He used his upper body strength to pull himself from the bed, a thud on the hard ground as he tried to move with determination, his lower body holding him back and having to drag himself like a pathetic creature. The room he was in was unfamiliar; he recognised it as an ordinary hospital room, but as he went to the door and tried to pull the door handle, a voice surrounded the room.

“I admire your determination, Leon, but you’re not getting out of here.”

That voice. That voice was familiar.

“Chris?” Leon was more confused than ever. His appreciation for a second chance at life was slowly short-lived as he lived in another nightmare. “Why am I being trapped here? Answer me!” Leon felt his anger making his face warm, desperately clawing at the door and screaming for release.

“You won’t be getting out any time soon, Leon. You’re not safe from the outside world.” Chris felt pained to tell his friend that he had to be a prisoner in this lifeless room that gave him no joy.

“Not safe! Not safe! I’m cured; that part of my mind is silenced. Why else am I in this room?”

“You’re cured… Temporally,” Chris sighed. " We’ve managed to make a supplement to keep giving you. Our team quickly made it, but a cure is still far from us.”

His heart sank. His desperation had halted and was replaced with a numbness. He thought he was finally cured, but this bliss was temporary; he needed to rely on a needle inside of him to be sane and to keep the monster within him taking everything; life was so fragile; he was so vulnerable, and this kept circulating in his mind.

Leon had pressed his back on the cold wall, tilting his head with closed eyes to process information nobody should have to deal with. ‘It isn’t fair,’ he kept thinking. It felt like a force just loved to torment him for his whole life. From his family being cruelly taken from him, Raccoon City, Spain and now this, was this all a cruel joke to a higher power? He thought to himself.

Right there — as Leon paused to be lost in a sea of thoughts — that wall opposite him had a flicker of uncertainty that danced across the seemingly bland and grey wall; Leon watched as it materialised into pixels, then watched as his attention focused further to see the wall turn into a screen. To his astonishment, it revealed Chris’ face, which he hadn’t seen in so long. It was too much to process; he could not find the words and did not know what to say as he froze. Alongside Chris, he saw strangers in the background with screens of research in front of him; he noticed a flicker of files that he had accumulated back in Spain and even saw a picture of the face of Luis in his laboratory jacket with his team when he was working for Umbrella — his heart still hurt for the man.

“What… What’s all that?” Leon managed to string some sentences together, but his voice trembled with disbelief as his hand pointed to everything behind Chris.

“It’s… complicated,” Chris replied, his gaze flickering to the monitors behind him where charts and graphs danced in a mesmerising data display. Chris’ heart pounded in his chest as he spoke to Leon; he knew he would wake up at some point but didn’t know today would be that day, especially just after he confessed his feelings for you — almost like the universe was telling him something. He took a deep breath before he continued dialogue, “It’s research for a cure… It’s still far away from us, but —” he was cut off.

“You have the files from Luis’ research; shouldn’t that be good enough? He gave me the suppressant before; isn’t that enough of a lead?!”

“It’s been a good lead, but your… situation is more complicated.” This was more bad news that Leon dreaded hearing: “With this disease… You were supposed to turn into what you encountered back in Spain, but it seems like it… evolved into something different.”

“Are you trying to say I’ve turned into some evolved creature?”

Chris laughed as he tried to turn to humour in this moment, “If you want to think of it that way, then be my guest. But the good side is that you won’t be like what you saw back in Spain. We have enough suppressants for you to remain, but until we find a cure, you’re not going anywhere.”

“What about Ashley? She was infected, too.”

“She was cured. It stayed the pure strain so she could be cured back in Spain; you were just unlucky… But try and keep some positivity; you’ll stay alive, and a cure is possible.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the steady noise of typing by the strangers. Leon’s mind was whirling with trauma and neverending questions, with fears too vast to name or even get into. But amidst the chaos, one thing arose into Leon’s mind.

“Can I see her?” Leon’s voice was barely audible above the hum of machines, “Can I see Y/N? I want to… set things right.”

Chris’ expression softened, but Leon’s eyes filled with sadness as he begged and begged, “Please, Chris. I’m behind a wall, and I just want to tell her everything I want to. Please, while I have a sound mind.”

“As… As much as I would say that’s a good idea. She’s… um. She’s gone.”

The words hit Leon like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. Images flashed before his eyes — your smile, your laughter, the warmth of your touch. And now, all that remained was emptiness, a void that threatened to consume him whole. Guilt ate at him as he tried to agree that he couldn’t make it right. He knew he couldn’t turn back the clock and stop all the damage he caused, but he wanted to start with recognition and apologise for everything he did, even if it wasn’t his fault.

“I-I don’t believe you,” a lump in his throat hindered the audibility of his voice, “I-I’ll never get to, n-never get to,” he paused for a moment again, “Did the baby make it?”

Chris momentarily thought, “She lost it while we took her out of your… You know. I’m so sorry, Leon.”

Behind Chris, the scientists exchanged uneasy glances. One of the women tried to hold a steady position as she teared up, hearing his brokenness and the transparent lies Chris was telling him. Everyone in the room could understand, but they also saw the person behind whom they were researching and were told to be cautious. But Chris remained unchanged.

“I have to go now, Leon, but me and Jill will check up on you… We’re here to help.”

Leon nodded; he didn’t want to fight and even wanted to be left alone.

Leon felt at ease as the screen materialised back to the blank wall. He knew people were watching him, but being unable to see a range of faces made him feel alone with his thoughts. All his thoughts were just glimpses and flashes of picturing you, imagining everything he wanted to say to you, and trying to understand that you were gone. ‘I wish I were the one that remained dead,' he thought.

As Chris walked out, he bent over to the team leader. “Don’t tell him the truth,” he murmured in a low and urgent tone. “Keep up the illusion.”

That charade would continue, a fragile facade of woven lies. Leon had to deal with a reality that was just an illusion to keep up appearances. There was now a quiet stillness as Chris left the room, finding his footing to return to the area you and Mason were in. On his way, he noticed Jill standing outside, waiting for another conversation with Chris. She waved him to beckon him over, and of course, he wouldn’t ignore her — even though he wanted to after the not-too-long-ago encounter that still left a bad taste in his mouth. He stepped outside, taking in some much-needed fresh air, waiting for Jill to guide the conversation; she was eager to get her words out.

“I’m hoping you told Leon the lie we agreed on,” she raised an eyebrow, greeted by Chris nodding in agreement.

“I know why we’re not letting him out… We must find a cure before we even consider placing him somewhere. But why did we have to lie to his face about Y/N? Wouldn’t it have been better to say she didn’t want to see him?”

“If he were his normal self, he would have taken that.”

“But he is his normal self; we have a suppressant, and we have managed to keep giving him that.”

“I know, I know. But we don’t know too much about his condition. Luis’ research is limited to a single strain. I doubt we can just go to Umbrella for information,” she took a deep breath and noticed her voice raising in volume gradually, “Let’s say this strain becomes something else; it’s already evolved into another strain; it could get more serious. I would rather him think Y/N is dead so he doesn’t go after her or Mason. I’m not having her be taken away from me again… And I doubt you want that after your little moment with her.”

“Are you still mad that she and I have something?”

“No, I’m so happy I’m practically planning the wedding… What do you think, Chris?” sarcasm at its finest.

Chris sighed deeply at Jill’s stubbornness, “I’m all for protecting her, and I admire how far you’ve gone to protect her, but wouldn’t you rather that she be with someone you know? You know I’m not an awful person,” Jill wanted to open her mouth for a witty remark, “Ah, no comment from you. But back to the point, you know I won’t hurt her, and you’re round, and she’s near you for as long as possible in this quarantine zone if you suspect I’m doing her harm… Which I won’t… You’re there.”

Jill’s hardened exterior softened with the voice of reason: " I didn’t think I would say this, but you’re right, Chris. I just have to get used to it, but I swear if you hurt her, I will do way worse and won’t keep you alive like I am with Leon.”

Chris nodded in acceptance.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You sat alone in a dimly lit room, your only company with the shadows and the ambient noises across the walls, hearing the occasional footsteps outside your living quarters and the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the silence as you stared at the blank wall, with a still expression. Chris was beside you, and you felt his warm breath and the scratch of his facial hair on your arm; it was strange to have him sleeping soundly beside you. You had spoken to Jill with Chris while Mason was getting his lessons, and there was no point in keeping the secret up. At the same time, it did take away a specific aspect of fun; it was a lot less stressful to keep it from her. All you were doing now was waiting a little longer before Mason knew about it — but that was no worry since Chris was a father figure for him while you were raising him.

Alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but drift back to the memories of Leon. You were getting tired of this same routine of having a romantic connection with Chris and then looking back, but you also were patient with yourself, knowing you weren’t going to get over this; no matter how many years passed, it would only be a little easier to cope with but never get over. These memories would invade your memory like an unwelcome ghost haunting and tormenting, stirring up a tumultuous mix of emotions within you. The guilt gnawed at you as you felt like a prisoner even with Leon in the grave, feeling like a fool with the clutches of Stockholm syndrome keeping you and making it unable to break free.

However, as you sat there — lost in your memories and thoughts — another thought started to take the forefront: your conversation with Jill a year after your rescue.

You remembered that night; it was a year from your rescue, and within that year, you thought about so much. The year started with the early days of raising Mason; oh, how much of a darling he was when he was tiny. Before you had given birth to him, you were so excited every time you looked at the ultrasound, your heart skipping a beat every time you thought about how close it was until you could finally touch him, skin to skin, and introduce him to the world. When you saw that face, tears of joy rolled down as you looked at the life you brought into the world; you didn’t care how much he looked like Leon — at that moment — all you cared about was the relief you felt when knowing he was healthy and didn’t have a strain of infection in his veins, you had the privilege of having a beautiful and healthy baby.

But as the months went on, it was getting hard to cope with life after pregnancy; Mason was no trouble, not fussy, and was quite an easy baby; you even had Chris and Jill help to look after him, so you had nothing to complain about. But you remembered how fatigued your eyes were; every day felt like a struggle to continue. You remembered how your body weighted you down and your spirits corrupted with the weight of postpartum. The medical staff were dismissive at first, but after seeing your condition, they began to take a look at it more; it was only more accessible with people by your side. You felt like you were drowning, then suffocating beneath the waves of sadness and emptiness that threatened to consume your every waking moment. But while you were in your solitude, you had time to think, to deeply remember and process what had happened to you, and think deeply about Leon. That was when you built up the courage to ask Jill everything your mind wouldn’t silence itself about.

Your memories echoed that picture as you remembered how you sat across from Jill, your fingers nervously tapping against the tabletop, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling that something wasn’t right for a long time; your mind had delved into a strain that had a gut feeling that there was more to the story that Jill let on. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation you couldn’t sit in silence about anymore.

“Jill,” you began hesitantly, “I need to ask you something.” You had her full attention, and she smiled before she knew exactly what you wanted to discuss. “I have to ask you about Leon.”

Jill’s eye flickered. You didn’t know this then, but her mind was racing to string together words to maintain an appearance, an illusion. She deeply breathed, “What do you want to know?”

You hesitated; your mind raced with the words and everything you wanted to ask, “I… Did… Did Leon actually… die?” Jill looked at you with false confusion.

“Of course he did… Don’t you remember you pulled the trigger, Y/N,”

“What did you do with this body?”

“Excuse me?”

“I killed him… okay… but you wouldn’t have just left his corpse there. You wanted to keep this secret from the general public, or so I’m told, so you wouldn’t have let it stay there for anybody to come across,” Jill was panicking; you didn’t know since she managed to keep a calm composure, but she wasn’t expecting these questions and thoughts from you.

“Well, we didn’t tell you this, but we got some other people to collect him, and we were taken; we don’t know where, but he is dead and was taken care of… I’m sorry.”

You had a gut feeling that she was lying; Jill’s voice had sowed seeds of doubt, and the root of uncertainty grew with each passing moment. You couldn’t keep a straight mind after that and kept thinking, but raising Mason and the constant medical checks was a good distraction.

You continued to stare at the blank wall, with that moment replaying. To this day, you still feel like there is more to the story, like everyone is caught up with the truth, and you kept in the dark. You didn’t want to ignore your gut feeling. Still, for the years you called this place home, you were given no evidence to have doubt but just your ideas from decoding Jill’s demeanour, body language, and how she avoided your gaze in conversations about Leon and what had happened years ago.

But another bit of curiosity crept upon you—the restricted area. You were told that there were just experiments and research on the bioweapons from Umbrella; Jill showed you pictures of the enemies she and Chris encountered, but you thought about how Leon would be a good suspect for experimentation after you learned about where he had gotten infected.

‘What if he’s there?’ you thought.

my links: masterlist | ao3 | kofi

taglist: @cassiecasluciluce @itzkawaiix @pastel-skies-and-doves @argreion

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #fanfiction #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #smut #resident evil smut #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 remake #re4r! leon x fem! reader #las plagas!leon kennedy #plagas!leon kennedy x reader #plagas!leon kennedy #las plagas #las plagas! leon kennedy x reader #las plagas leon kennedy #chris redfield #jill valentine #fem!reader #leon kennedy x y/n

[lemonmaid]

Also for some reason I cannot edit on the app? Nor on the website, so please work with me here, sorry about the confusing layout, I know I hate it too.

“I don't need you hovering”.

(name) glared at Xiao, who was literally watching (Name) as a hawk as he tried to feed their four year old pup.

“Ah!!”

(Name) resumed his attention onto Yuen, who was glaring at the two for interrupting his feeding, “Oh I know buddy, Dada can be so mean”.

“He is four, I think he can feed himself”.

(Name) rolled his eyes, “I'm still cutting up his food for him, he could literally-”.

“Let me do it”. Xiao gently moves (Name) over to cut up Yuen's food.

(Name) silently seething; his scent souring,”I'm pregnant not incapable” he mumbles.

(Name) was only six months pregnant, not too far into his pregnancy but not too far away from giving birth. Did he appreciate Xiao's helpfulness? Of course, some omegas would be delighted to have a mate so helpful and understanding as Xiao. Xiao was very experienced in the field, having a pup, Yuen, before meeting (Name) with a one night stand. 

(Name) excuses himself from the room to finish getting ready for the day. Looking at the bathroom mirror, his stomach barely dropped, perks of being a male omega. 

“You should be getting bigger soon”.

(Name)’s eye twitched, “Wow… Thanks”. 

Was Xiao a great mate? Of course! (Name) couldn't be happier, but it's Xiaos overbearing that got (Name), it's ‘You're doing that wrong’, ‘no let me help’, ‘you shouldn't pick up Yuen’. It was very exhausting.

Xiao was dressed in his work clothing holding Yuen who was ready for school, hence the yellow bucket hat and blue school uniform. “Yuen say bye to Papa”.

“Bye-bye!!” Yuen does the kiss motion towards (Name).

“Are you going to be okay going to University today? I don't want you walking that far-”

“Again, pregnant, not broken, anyways I was going to pick up groceries after class”. (Name) gave the two a quick hug and the two goodbye.

“And then he tells me “yoU ShOUld bE geTTinG biGGeR sOOn” like fuck off please, I understand that he is trying to help but, it's overwhelming! I can do things by myself! I'm a big boy!”. (Name) ran to his father-in-Law, Zhongli, who was his Political Science professor. 

(Name) usually got to school early to help Zhongli set up the classroom, but that was both of their excuse to gossip.

Zhongli watched the younger omega scrub the chalkboard harshly, putting his hand gently on the younger male’s shoulder, “Maybe see it from his perspective… when Xiao was… Expecting, he was alone, besides from me and his step father, think of it as he doesn't want you to feel alone. Also culturally speaking, he the rest of his siblings were raised that a pregnant omega shouldn't be do anything but resting, so this is a change for him as well”.

(Name) snickered at the memories from early into his pregnancy, how Xiao told him not to rub his stomach often or the pup will end up being spoiled or how when he came back from night school, Xiao lit sages around the house. 

“Just communicate with him”. Zhongli said with a soft smile on his face. 

After class was done for the day the two omegas walked home together.

“Hmmm, what is for dinner tonight (Name)?”.

(Name) hummed, “I've been craving some Tangbao, the big ones, no, bigger”. (Name) drooled at the thought of a hot doughy, chewy, flavor filling bun in his stomach, the thought earned a kick from the pup inside of him.

As the two walked into the shared home space, the aroma of dinner hit their noses.

“Papa!!” 

Yuen ran up to (Name) and Zhongli, giving the two a giant hug, or as big his small arms could. 

“Hello to you too Yuen, I trust you've been a good boy for your fathers?” Zhongli said as he patted the boy's head. 

Yuen nodded his head, grabbing Zhongli’s hand, “come! I wanna show you! My book!”.

(Name) took his shoes off carefully before stepping up stairs to join the family in the living space, (Name) drooled at the thought of dinner.

It wasn't too abnormal for Xiao to be cooking but usually (Name)  to cook. 

(Name) slouched down into the comfortable recliner in the corner of the room, waiting for dinner, closing his eyes, listening to Yuen speak his mind to his grandfather.

“this is! Uncle… Bo-sac-i-us!”

“That's a very good illustration, young one, who's that right there?”

“That's my new baby sister!”

“Oh, you're sister?”

“Mhm! Papa said he thinks it's a girl and Dada says Papa is always right”.

(Name) smiled fondly.

“Dinner everyone” Xiao spoke softly, taking in (Name)’s tired form.

The table was set up neatly, dinner looked perfect, it was almost like a mutton hot pot. 

“Now Yuen, do you want to eat with a fork or your training chopsticks?”.

“I wanna practice!!”.

(Name) looked at the food in awe, but his hormone pregnancy brain nagged at the thought that this wasn't what he wanted, but the food looked so good at the sametime. 

“Are you okay (Name)?” Xiao whispered.

(Name) started grabbing greens and beef and putting into his bowl, “I'm- fine”.

Xiao didn't press any further, picking up food and putting it onto Yuens and (Name)’s bowls. 

Dinner was calm, well, for everyone else. (Name) was quietly seething, he felt guilty about it though, he didn't mean to feel this way but he can't help it, pregnancy brain.

“Yuen, make sure grandpa sees his way out the door”.

“Yes dada!!”.

(Name) helped collect dishes to put in the sink.

“Are you sure you're okay? Your scent is off”.

(Name) finally quietly broke down, “I wanted Tangbao for dinner, not a hotpot meal, I hate that you do things for me, I hate how I can't go anywhere without you hovering! I'm sorry! I'm just overwhelmed!”. 

(Name) quietly sobbed into his mate's chest.

Xiao rubbed (Name)’s back, leading the omega up the stairs to their share bedroom. 

“I'll be back, let me finish cleaning and get Yuen to bed”.

Xiao was gone for 40 minutes, giving (Name) time to breathe and calm down. When Xiao came back, he had a small plate of melons and tea with him.

“I'm sorry”.

(Name) took the plate, calming down, “was this the good melon?”.

“The one that's been in the freezer since New Years”.

(Name) hummed, “I forgive you, for now”.

Xiao chuckled, massaging (Name)’s swollen legs, “I mean it. I'm sorry. I wasn't aware of your feelings. That makes me a bad mate”.

(Name) sighed, “You're not a bad mate, you..just… are not emotionally self aware sometimes”.

Xiao nodded, “I'll work on it, I'll do better”

“I appreciate that”.

A small knock on the door interrupted the two. “Papa, can I sleep with you?”.

The two omegas smiled softly, “Yes Yuen, give us a minute to get change. We'll come get you”. 

#genshin xiao #xiao x reader #omega xiao #omega reader #omega male reader #genshin impact x reader #gensnin impact x male reader #genshin impact omegaverse #xiao x male reader