Tumgik
#(and hate drawing faces shhh)
Who da hell draws people in the middle of battle? [all hands points at Sniper]
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Jealous, Jealous, Boy || Young president!Snow X Plinth!Reader
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GIF by @fuckyeahtomblyth and divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: Being Panem’s First Lady was not all luxurious or happy. Snow was often cold, focused on Gamemaking leaving you to do whatever you pleased to do. But when new arrive to him that you were being awfully to friendly with one of the elitists, Snow always lands on top.
Warnings: toxic/possesive Snow
Wc:
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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“And where have you been, my darling wife?” Snow’s voice calls out as you pause slightly before shutting the doors behind you. Smoothing down the fitted dress, your heels click as you walk towards the drawing room. You see Snow sitting on an armchair, his back facing you as your fingers tap against your thigh.
“I asked you a question,” He voices out, his head turning to the side. “I visited the academy, wanted to see how the students were going.” You softly spoke out. It wasn’t a lie. You were bored out of your mind as of this morning, Tigris had to cancel on your weekly meet up and Snow was going to be stuck in his office all day like every other day.
“Come, sit.” He turns his head back around. It was dead silent apart from the clicking of your heels as you sit at the armchair beside Coriolanus’. “How’s the little one?” He makes eye contact with you, his arms folding as you furrow your eyebrows at him.
“Oh don’t act stupid Y/n, you don’t think I don’t get informed when you don’t bleed?” He chuckles, amused. Instinctively, your hand caresses your lower abdomen. Snow watches silently, “Can I?” “Hm?” “Can I feel it?” The corners of your lips slightly tug up. “Of course Coryo,” his nickname slipped out of your mouth. It had been such a long time since you’ve called him something so personal.
Snow’s large hands slowly move to your clothed abdomen. His fingers were ever so close, but you could tell he was hesitant. You take his hand and place it at the barely there bump. You intently watch Snow’s feature soften. Although they were quite young, a child would only help strengthen the family.
And just like that, his features harden. His cold façade back. He retreats his hand back, rubbing his forehead. “What are you thinking about?” You quietly ask, your eyes on your hands as you fidget. Coriolanus was always like this.
Shutting himself away whenever he felt a slight tinge of happiness, or the feeling of being loved. He hated the it; bringing him awful memories. “I’m thinking, y/n, of what I should do.” He stands up as your eyes follow him moving towards the alcohol on the table. “I’ve been informed that you have gotten quite comfortable with one of the elitists, am I wrong?”
Silence. “I said, am. I. wrong!” He yells, throwing the shot glass at the portrait of you and him on your wedding day. You quietly scream as you bring your hands up to your ears. You were shaking. Tears uncontrollably fell from your eyes as you sobbed. Snow hardly ever showed you his violent side. Feeling his presence coming towards you, you move your legs towards your chest.
“Shhh…” He takes your hands in his. You slowly look up towards your husband who’s staring at you so intensely. He lifts your chin up with his index finger. “You know I would never hurt you,” he says ever so softly, “or our unborn child,” His eyes flicker to your stomach.
“For the sake of my sanity, you are to stay home. You are not permitted to visit the academy. Do you understand, wife?” Your gaze falters, Snow pushes your chin up higher once again, forcing you to look at his blue irises. “Do you understand?” Snow says, this time it was barely a whisper.
You nodding your head was not sufficient enough for him. “Give me words.” “Yes. Yes I understand, husband” His face contorts into satisfaction. “Reed was it? Is that his name?” You slowly nod, he already knew that, he just wanted you to admit to it. “I didn’t cheat.” “Hm, I believe you. Reed will be kicked out, he should know his place.”
Coriolanus gives you one final kiss before straightening up and walking away.
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multistan-247 · 1 year
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❝ 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊 ❞
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⚠︎ Characters: bf! toji zenin x gf! fem reader
⚠︎ Warnings: 18+, cunnilingus, explicit smut, nipple play, nicknames, established relationship, toji showing off his strength and his insatiable appetite for you.
⚠︎ Synopsis: Toji loves to get his hands on you when you slip on his t-shirts after a long night of love making and wants more.
A/N: a repost because tumblr loves to be a bish and send complaints abt one of my best works.
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He's been at this for a while now.
Ever since Toji slid his hands up your thighs, smirking when learnt the absence of your panties, his chuckle in your ears makes you shudder.
"An open invite for me, huh sweetheart? Well, who am I to say no to that?"
So when you found yourself laying on the cold kitchen counter, bare for his eyes to feast upon, a blush streaks the plum of your cheeks. His eyes soften when they catch you blushing, but the predatory look never fades.
He hums and buries his raven head between your thighs, immediately gaining moans from you as his mouth greedily takes what he wanted.
"I eat pussy for myself." He'd said, the first time he ate you out.
Loud slurping sounds, provocative and loud, now fill the kitchen as the aroma of freshly made coffee and toast linger in the air.
"T-Toji."
You mewl, tugging at his free raven locks and your thighs threaten to close around his head. Calloused hands grip them open, squeezing or running his thumbs over your skin mindlessly.
Toji was a starved man, finally finding his elixir of life between your thighs, his own personal heaven. He was selfish with the way he eats you out but knew exactly what triggers you.
Your moans grow high-pitched when he slowly drives his tongue into your pussy, drawing the beginning of an orgasm from you. His slurps become louder; filthier. Your nipples tighten, and he notices the effect of his actions in your bodily reactions.
"Toji- Toji- please- please-"
"Shhh, little girl. You're distracting me."
He says in a reprimanding tone and hooks his brawny arms under your thighs, pulling you impossibly close to his greedy mouth.
"Ha- Toji!"
He doesn't stop at all.
You feel the peak of your orgasm unraveling quickly, but steadily, reducing all your moans into mewls of his name, your fingers tugging at your nipples.
He suddenly lets go of you, shock registering into your body when he slides his hands up your back, supporting your lower half and one around your neck, lifting you quite effortlessly, the position allowing him a lot more access to your pretty pussy as you squeal and your thighs twitch.
Toji's head is sandwiched between your thighs and he couldn't be more happier.
"I love your pussy. So wet and complaint for me."
He groans, the vibrations arousing goosebumps on your hypersensitive body. And then, his swollen lips suck on your clit so hard, your vision is reduced to black spots and then you come, his tongue going back to dive into your hole, not wasting a single drop of your juices.
"Fuck. You squirted."
Rising up from between your legs, the emerald green of his eyes blown wide with the lust occupying him. His mouth is red, coated in a sheen layer of your transparent juices and he darts out his tongue to lick it; and you groan, hiding your burning face behind your hands.
"You're so filthy." You tell him as you sit up, and he laughs, throwing his head back and eyes scrunching.
"Only for you, darling."
"Gimme my shirt. I'm cold and hungry." You pout, the coldness of the granite slab chilling you despite your previous activity.
"Nuh-uh. I'm hungry for your pussy. Breakfast can wait." He growls, sending another spark of desire to your belly. You don't have the opportunity to protest when he picks you up and makes his way to your shared room.
The neighbours hate the both of you for sure.
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© 2023 all rights to multistan-247 - do not copy or modify.
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crystalxwitch · 1 year
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12| Second Round - W. Maximoff
Summary: basically just smut
Warnings: smut! 18+, minors DNI| top!reader, bottom!Wanda, thigh-riding, horny Wanda can't sleep anymore
Masterlist
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There's a sound of shifting in the quiet room. A breathy whimper makes your ears perk up. Is she having a nightmare? You sleeplessly reach out your hand for her. Wanting to place your hand on hers, you hope to calm her down. You hate to see her like this. 
Touching her upper arm, you slowly move your hand down. Another whimper escapes her mouth. Careful not to wake her up, you ever so gently follow her arm down to her hand. All the time you have your eyes closed. If you'd open them it would be harder to fall asleep again.
Shifting a bit closer, you realize that she takes up more space than usual. Her leg touches yours, probably laying on her back. Not thinking anything about it, you tuck your head closer to her hair. Feeling her muscles flex under your fingertips, you furrow your brows. Is she awake?
"I need you again."
That wakes you up instantly, the previous dream is nothing compared to the woman in front of you. You can't believe your eyes. Wanda has one hand between her spread thighs, staring at you with pleading eyes. Her fingertips move in lazy, slow circles over her clit. Your fingers stay on her arm, now laying on her wrist. 
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, trying to keep her sounds at a low volume. A light shiver overtakes her body. You lean closer until your lips touch her ear. 
"Are you that needy to touch yourself until you wake me up?"
Wanda stops her movements. "I- I'm sorry. You can go back to sleep…I didn't want to bother you. I ju-"
You smile, kissing her on her cheek. "Shhh, I'm just teasing you."
You pull her on top of you, your hands settling on her hips. Wanda looks down at you. Her chest heaves with shallow breaths. Goosebumps appear over her skin. You bite down on your tongue. 
"Show me again. Show me how to make you feel good."
"You want me to…touch myself." She quietly whispers, a pink flush spreading over her face. 
You nod. "Yes."
Wanda slowly inches her hand back down over her stomach. Spreading her thighs a bit, she open herself up. Your eyes are drawn to the spot between her legs, groaning as her fingers cup her pussy again. You give her an encouraging smile, squeezing her hips as her fingertips ghost over her clit. 
You nod. "Show me."
She squeezes her eyes shut for a second. Her stomach flexes as her fingertips begin to draw small circles over her clit. Slow. Careful at first. All the time, your eyes are fixated on her pussy, not wanting to miss a single second of the show. She blushes even deeper as the sounds of her pussy travel to her ears.
"Fuck, I can hear how wet you are." You groan.
The moonlight bathes her naked skin in white light. Her nipples harden in the cool air, begging for attention. Your mouth waters at the sight. How can she be this beautiful? Her whole body shudders as you lean forward, pressing a kiss on each of her breasts. 
"Pl-please, fuck me." Wanda whimpers, picking up her pace. "I need you, y/n."
You make it your mission to draw each moan and whimper out of her that wants to break free. The sound is like music to your ears. You never want it to come to a stop.
"Fuck." Her fingers dig a bit harder into your shoulders. "They feel sensitive."
You pull back to look at her. "You want me to stop?"
She lowers her hips down, pressing against your thigh with her fingers continuing to draw circles over her clit. "No…no, don't you dare stop what you're doing."
You grin. "Feels so good, doesn't it?"
She grinds a little harder down on your thigh. Rolling her hips back and forth, you help her with your hands on her hips. The redhead gasps, looking straight into your eyes as they get all hazy. Her wetness spreads over your skin, dripping down on the bed. She's climbing up the ladder to her orgasm quicker than she thought. What have you done to her? Wanda can't control her body anymore. 
"Fuck, that's it."
She sinks her teeth into her already swollen lip. Little whimpers fall freely past her mouth, not caring about being quiet anymore. Her wetness spreads over your thigh, coating it in her arousal as she rubs back and forth. One of your hands sinks into the back of her hair, forcing her back to arch all prettily. 
"Ride my thigh…just like that, baby."
You want to throw her onto her back right then and there. Wanda shudders, her hair faking over her shoulders as she places her hands right below your breasts.
"You look so pretty when you're whimpering." You praise her, cupping her breasts and rolling her hardened nipples between your fingers. "Such a pretty sight. All mine to observe. All mine to touch."
The movements on her clit get sloppier, not able to keep up as her mind gets all mushy. Your hand on her hips urges her to ride your thigh. Brushing her hand aside, you replace her fingers with yours. She violently twitches as your fingers find her clit. Falling forward against your chest, she buries her face in your shoulder. Small curses fall past her mouth. 
"You're doing so good, Wanda." You move her on her back, needing to fuck her properly. "Hold it in for me. Don't come just yet."
She moans your name. Over and over again.
You cup her face. She shakes underneath you, staring up at you with soft eyes. Every rational thought is long forgotten. Her brain doesn't function as it should. You're the only person in her mind.
"Yeah…scream my name." You smile from ear to ear, pressing kisses over her chest. "Let me hear you."
Teary eyes stare up into yours. Her mouth hangs open in an o shape. She throws her head back as you enter her with two fingers. Her legs pull you closer, needing to feel your skin against hers. She's sensitive from your earlier activities. Sore. But she can't help it. Something in her screams for your touch. The moment she fell asleep she dreamed about being fucked by you again. It's maddening.
"M- More…please, fuck me harder." Wanda moans, gasping and panting for air.
You turn her on her stomach, pulling her hips up to have more room. Her face falls into the cushion, not able to move a muscle anymore. She groans as your lips leave bruising kisses over her back. The marks on her front are not enough. You want to paint her whole body in your kisses. Mark her so the world knows she's mine. Even just for tonight. Hopefully, forever.
"Take it like a good girl." You breathe against her shoulder, fucking your fingers deeper into her while your other hand sneaks underneath her stomach. "So pretty…such a pretty girl." 
She clenches around your fingers. Hard. Your thumb continues to work on her clit. Your pussy hovers above the back of her thigh. All this time, your needs have been rising to an unbearable height. Watching her. Hearing her. It is enough to nearly come. 
"You get so adorable when you're fucked hard, princess. Just look at you getting all whiny from getting stretched open."
You grind against her legs, needing to relieve some tension. Wanda's moans get louder. You don't know if she's getting closer or feeling your movements. Dropping your forehead against her shoulder, you curl your fingers against her sweet spot. Your clit just rubs against her skin the right way, the friction heavenly as you feel yourself getting closer as well.
"So…so close." Her voice comes out muffled, her face pressing against the pillow. "Fuck, I'm nearly there. Just a bit more."
Entering a third finger, you stretch her out. Wanda moans, louder than ever before. The light burn at first immediately transforms into sweet pleasure.
"My cute little mess…is it hard to think?" You ask, gasping in the same rhythm as her. "You're just my greedy girl, just aching to finally come." 
Incoherent noises escape her mouth. She can't think anymore. The coil in her stomach snaps. Her mouth falls open, screaming your name. 
You groan deeply. "Go ahead…give me what's mine."
She grabs the sheet while wildly buckling her hips against your hand. The thought of coming together brings you over the edge. She's a quivering mess underneath you. Small aftershocks twitch through her spent body. You gently turn her on her back, wiping the strands of hair out of her face with your clean hand.
You sigh, feeling the aftershocks leave your body. "I've got you."
Wanda grabs your other hand. Without asking, she sucks your fingers into her mouth. You groan at the sight. Her pretty pink lips around your three fingers nearly make you grow wet again. Her tongue swirls around the pads of your fingers. Sucking off her cum, she hums softly. The taste is sweet on her tongue.
"So pretty." 
Wanda smiles all silly and bright. "Yours."
You leave soft kisses over her jawline up to her earlobe. Making your way down her neck, Wanda breathes heavily. You kiss her deeply…hoping to communicate your feelings through it. She's too exhausted to kiss you back properly, letting you guide the kiss. Leaving a little kiss on the tip of her nose, you lay down on the side.
She chuckles. "This is better than a sleeping pill."
"I'm always happy to help you out, princess." You whisper, placing your hand on her wildly pounding heart. "I'll always be there if you need me."
Wanda hums, pressing a kiss on your lips. You close your eyes. You want to burn this night into your mind. She leans back on her back, inching closer until her head rests on your chest. Drawing lazy circles over your skin, the redhead stares up at you. Her beautiful eyes never fail to knock the breath out of your lungs.
"I'm so going to regret this tomorrow." She says in a hushed tone. 
"Why?"
"Because I won't feel my fucking legs."
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pursuitseternal · 7 months
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“Hold me…” a hurt/comfort nsfw update to Ascended Astarion x Reader fic: “The Rogue You Were”
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Ascended Astarion x f!Reader |E| 3.8K Hurt/Comfort Smut
Summary: The nightmares still come, even with all that power and influence and Ascension. You are the one thing that can comfort him, to ground him and heal him. To restore him with your touch, your love.
CW: Trauma, self-hate, hurt, comfort, gentle sex, pull him out of his loathing and make that rogue feel something.
Read here if you like AO3
Throw yourself in his arms, darling…
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
It begins the same every time… how he shakes, hands clenching in the sheets. Breathing going ragged. His muscles spasming on their own. An arm thrown to the side, his legs kicking the luxurious comforter from your bed. He contorts, the ghosts of his pain wracking his body beside you.
You slowly come to, feeling the jolts of him knocking you awake. It hasn’t been since he’s ascended that he’s had a nightmare. You’ve seen them, on the road, in his bedroll. You did you best then to soothe gently, hard to do with others around.
But this was his palace, this was your bed.
“Astarion,” you whisper, repeating his name louder as you watch his face grimace in his sleep, moans and grunts of anguish in his throat as he tosses and flails.
You reach for his shoulder, tense and cold. That small, soft contact lurches his body in his angonized sleep. Bolting and twisting he clambers on top of you. He roars above you, body rolling as his hands claw around your wrists. Legs tangling in your bedding.
Trapping you firmly under his naked body.
Panting. Snarling. Dripping in sweat.
His eyes are open, glowing as bright and scarlet as the day he took the power meant to kill him.
He snaps his jaws in your face, feral and bloodthirsty. His fangs glisten in the dim light, shining with his spit. “No,” he roars, “no, don’t touch me!” He bellows, “You won’t win, you can’t win. I’m free!”
You tremble under his strength, his eyes unfocused, staring past you, burrowed beneath him and pinned under his shaking body. You do the one thing that pops in your racing mind, something you would do under the stars before.
“Shhh,” you breathe quietly, “it’s okay. You’re okay, Astarion… shhhhh….”
He struggles a bit. Eyes blinking. Black pupils in the center of his glowing red orbs seeming to search your face.
And then, he sees you. His face softens in recognition, the creases of his face easing, his brows lifting from their ferocious furrow. He looks down at you under him, feeling how your frame shakes as your breath races.
“Shh, it’s okay,” you repeat one more time, looking right into his eyes, watching their glow fade. Watching them grow veiled with fear.
“I… I thought I was free of these,” he murmurs, voice quaking as he eases his hands from pinning your wrists. “Free of… him.”
He doesn’t need to say another word. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Astarion shivers, sliding off you to settle heavy back in his spot in the bed. You see him shudder, rolling his back to you, arms wrapping around himself tightly.
Then you hear a wet, shaking breath.
Pain clutches your heart, souring your stomach. Eyeing his body, you know better than to touch his back. Not on those literally Infernal scars. Carefully, you slide yourself up in the bed, resting your back against the carved wood of the headboard and the pile of pillows behind you. Angling your body away from his, you lightly brush your fingers into that mess of silver curls. Ever so slightly, you run through them. So soft, just enough to let him know you are there.
He shudders again, this time it’s a sob that comes from his mouth. Your hand feels it through his scalp, putting just a bit more pressure as you stroke into his hair. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t fight it. But he also doesn’t turn. You watch his fingers clawing around his own arm, pressing in so hard it could draw blood.
“I’ve got you,” you whisper, carefully not to touch more than just the wisps of his hair that tickle beneath your single hand. “Breathe, my love. Breathe,” you softly score your fingers into his hair, firmer. Enough to reassure him of your presence.
Slowly, he begins to still. “He’s gone,” you continue to whisper, trying to carefully breach the boundary of his pain. “He is dead, and you, you live, my love…”
Your fingers stray into the soft and short hairs that run in front of his pointed ear. You hear him hiss, your finger barely grazing the skin of his cheek.
“Two-hundred years…” he begins, so soft, you have to lean over his head just to catch his feeble words.
“I know,” you try to soothe, your hands tenderly lift his head, sliding your legs beneath his temple, his cheek, praying that the softness of your body grounds him.
If he lets it…
You feel his muscles clench, his jaw biting into itself at the contact. But you hold still, waiting, watching… until he finally eases, body relaxing almost imperceptibly as he rests on your inner thigh. His breath is ragged and cold as it flutters over your skin. But at least he is breathing.
Hesitant, you run your fingers down his wet cheek, trailing a single finger over that firm cut of his jaw. Wiping away his tears.
“You can’t let this beat you, my love,” you whisper. “And you are not alone, you have more than your power to comfort you now…”
His jaw tweaks under your touch, his swallow loud and forced.
“He’s still won,” you hear him rasp, “not even my power, not even my love for you can erase those years… all the… horrible… horrible… things he did to me.” He trails off, turning his head to stare at the ceiling, his eyes distant, wet, brimming with anguish. “He might as well have won…”
You hold your breath, heart racing as you watch that spark of his power flickering. Your bond teems with his pain, twisting your own gut and heart and soul with the share of his burden.
“Cazador… is dead,” you whisper, the name alone makes his face screw tight, eyes shut and teeth bared as he rests in your lap. “And I… am… with you, every day to remind you of that fact, Astarion.”
“You’ve chosen nothing more than a life with a monster,” his lips move slowly, eyes still shut. “I saw myself… the greatest torture… he… could inflict… making me just like him.” You watch as his teeth bite into his own lip, the thin trickle of blood seeping down his cheek and chin.
Torment, torture, it paints his face, marring those handsome features like the scars that disfigure his back.
“You are nothing like him… you are more than him,” you begin to feel… indignant. Irritated. Not at your love. At the shadow that still insists to manifest over his shining flame of a soul. A soul he fought so hard to get back. “I am proof of that…”
“You are proof of my weakness, that I can’t face a future alone after all … all Cazador did to me…”
Now, you feel a growl in your throat. “Weakness?” You snip, carefully measuring your words, your breath. “I’m your… weakness? Sharing yourself is not weakness, forgoing loneliness is not weakness…”
You feel his shoulder shrug against your leg. “I do not deserve it. What does it matter…”
“Why shouldn’t you have a consort, a queen, a… someone to care about you, whether you live or die?” You swallow hard, biting your tongue. His apathy is consuming him alive. Eating his passion up from the inside out more than any parasite could.
“What does it matter…” he repeats again. “I’m nothing more than what he made me…”
That’s it. Something snaps inside you. Indignant. Not at him. For him. You shuffle from under him, and quickly climb on top. Hovering your body above him. Hands and knees keep you carefully from touching too much. But making well and truly certain he has to look at you. “And what about what… I… made you?” you try to soften your snarl. “What about what you made me, more than spawn. Giving me your blood… don’t you think you’ve done more than seal my fate?”
He stares at you, wet crimson eyes blinking, the little muscles of his face beginning to twitch. Good. That was something more than apathy. Something you could work with. “You are not his creature anymore, Astarion,” you murmur in his face, letting your hair fall in rivulets down from your shoulders. “You are mine…. Forever…. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
A slight glow begins in his face, just a twitch of his lip in that usually insufferable corner. “I suppose…” he finally breathes.
“You are mine, and no amount of imaginary dreams can rob you from me, no matter how real they are.” Something creeps up your thighs, feather-light as hands ghost up to the curve of your ass. He is touching you, and you smile. You honey your tone, letting his fingers bring you slowly to rest on his body. “You may have been his for two-hundred years, my love… but you are mine now, for the rest of eternity.” Those hands press ever-so-slightly harder as you wiggle on his lap.
“You won’t ever let me forget it, will you, darling?” he purrs. Faintly, but it’s there.
“No, my love,” you smirk, voice soft and sultry, more than usual. Teasing the same tones you long to hear from him. “Not as long as I have been made yours… forever…” you growl the word, the way it has been forever branded in your immortal memory.
You see that corner of his mouth lift a little higher, his head lilting against the bed. “If you insist, darling…” he replies, more honeyed, more silken.
“I most certainly do, my love,” you purr, a toss of your hair, letting it fall softly down your back. Licking your lips, you give a slight roll of your hips on his lap, hoping to feel a burgeoning of hardness beneath you. It’s slight, the beginning of an erection, enough to make your core ignite, to make you swallow hard, needing to comfort your lover. “Allow me, darling…” you breath, soft and gentle.
But his brows furrow, head cocking with a spike of suspicion. “Allow you to do what, exactly?” he replies, voice edged with something sharp.
You smile, a bit confused. But undeterred. Carefully proceeding with every little step, every little touch. “Allow me to console you… to… show you I love you… Will you allow me to… pleasure you?”
The question hangs in the air longer than you thought it would. His face is unmoving, you begin to worry, to slide off his body in case it’s too much.
But his hands hold you in place, pressing faintly on your hips to resist even the slightest movement off him. “What would you like for me to do with you, Astarion?” you whisper, so softly, anxious over breaking into his thoughts.
“I…” he begins. “I’ve never been asked that…”
Your brows crease, you smile a bit, perhaps a bit darkly. “Even with me? I’m sure I have…”
“I mean, I always knew you cared deeply for me… for giving to me… giving into me, but…” he breathes, a heavy sigh that seems to ease every muscle beneath you. “To hear it in so many words…” You hear him swallow, breath and tears catching in his throat. “I want you to make love to me, my treasure. Make me feel… everything… with you.”
Something hardens between your folds, and by the growing smirk and ever increasing glow of crimson in his eyes, you know he wants this.
Wants you.
“Yes,” you sigh, “I’ll give you everything, and then some.”
He laughs, just a few times, but it melts your heart, that tear-streaked sticky chuckle.
“Will you give me a taste, darling?” he croons, that voice back with its full force to make you molten and quick between your thighs.
“My lips?” you tease gently, “my blood… my nether regions?”
“All of it,” he growls, hand almost clawing at the back of your neck, bearing you down towards his simpering mouth. His kiss is salty from tears, but just as ferocious as ever… the little nicks of his fangs inside your lip, the deep delve of his tongue into the furthest reaches of your mouth… Even as the seducer, you melt into his body, losing yourself in the workings of his kiss. Your hips lifted off of his belly, you feel the twitching of his cock against you with every lick of his tongue over the small cuts on your lips. He’s humming, low in his throat, at the taste of you. Feasting on your desire and your blood all at once.
You let him, keeping your mouth open and returning the favor, until you feel his lips beginning to stray. Beginning to catch your chin, your cheek and jaw. Until his hand knots into the strands of your hair and pulls your neck to his fangs. You cry out, his name pleading in your voice, begging for more and for him to be gentle all at once.
His bite is hungry, as ravenous as when he first pleaded for your blood… only a little of it… to feed your hungry rogue. Astarion sucks and laps, starved for your power, your love, your consolation that is balm for his soul. Little moans escape you, each time his breath rattles in your ear, heavy and hungry.
You let him drink, feeling the flow of your blood in his body tightening your bond, your desire. Your essence filling his insides… you want the same. Crave the same. Him inside you.
But you dig deep to be patient, to follow his desires, his hunger. And with a final lick, he pulls from your neck. Your well-fed vampire, eyes almost sleepy from a full belly, glassy from the pulsing desire that prods into your belly. “Darling,” he purrs, throat slick with your blood, “won’t you put that mouth of yours to use?”
You smile, feeling his hand taking his own cock in his fist, dragging it over your belly. A hint, none too subtle. Licking your lips, you place a kiss on that conceited smirk first, pulling away quickly, lest you lose yourself in that perfect kiss again. Instead, you nuzzle the cut of his jaw, a soft press, almost reverent, over the bite marks in his neck. You feel his jaw clenching, his breath catching. “I love these,” you whisper just beneath the bottom of his ear. He shudders at your voice’s tickle. “I love everything that made you who you are, that made me find you in my path….”
A loud groan sounds from the throat beneath your lips. “And?” he prods, another little noise as you trail your lips to his shoulder, to the wiry strength that could snap you in two. “What else do you love?”
“I love that stroking your vanity gets you just as hard as my touch…”
He laughs, long and low. “Choose the right words, and you might find out just how hard you can make me for you, darling…”
Your hands race down both those arms, gasping his hands in yours to place them in your hair. “I love your strength, that you can crush your enemy in a second… so powerful, none can resist you…”
“Mmm,” he moans loudly, fingers clawing in your hair, riding the rise and fall of your head as you trail caresses over the expanse of his chest. You stop at his belly, even as his hands in your hair will for you to continue that downward trek. But you pause, letting your tongue lick over those cold and hard ridges. Salty from his sweat, clenching at the agonizing pace you seem to set. You claw your nails down his sides, feeling his hips flexing as you dig in, slowly sliding to settle yourself between his thighs at last.
You softly run your hands over that panting plane of his stomach. His fingers stray from your hair, wrapping around his cock, his straining length, trying to bring your mouth to it. His breathing is hard, quick. And you give him a placating lick from base to velvety, seeping head. “Shhh,” you smile up at him, tenderly taking his hand from his own cock, giving it a slight kiss, and placing it back into your hair. “Let me take care of you,” you whisper.
Uncertainty flashes in his eyes, his belly clenching and sending his cock jerking against your face.
“Let me pleasure you, entirely. Trust me to know you, my love, to read your body for what you want. Use that silken voice of yours, if you like, but…” you lick your lips, taking his cock in one hand, cradling his balls in another, “…I need you to trust me, and you… can… trust me, lover.”
His eyes still look down at you, lidded and veiled in suspicion, but his fingers ease their grip, letting you settle your mouth to lick as you please. You linger your mouth to run the full, long length of him. That silken skin, hard and throbbing underneath, he pulses with every lick, every swirl. Slowly, gradually, you nibble your way to his head, hearing him sigh as you finally lick away that bitter seed already leaking from the tip. It twitches, dancing, responding in time to every wet attention you lavish on him.
His hands slowly sweep from your head, teasing down your neck, thumb tracing over the top of your ear. Palm lifting and stroking you over and over again. He paws you, pets you… his breathing steadier, heavier. And then you take him deep, or as much of him as you can into your mouth and down your throat. Stifling a groan, he thrusts into your mouth, but you anticipate it, carefully moving with it so as not to gag. You bob up and down, lapping your tongue in circles, attentive to each sensitive spot you have come to know and worship on his cock.
He moans as you suck, as you pop off his head loudly. Loud enough to make him laugh quietly. Relaxed and pleasured. “What else do you love about me, my sweet?” You raise a brow, waiting so as to tease him. His hips raise, his ass clenches, jerking his aching and prominent erection in your face. “Anything in particular?”
You give a dramatic sigh, meeting his eye, holding his gaze as you slide your tongue from base to tip again. “Always the rogue, Astarion, so proud of your weapon…”
“Good enough a weapon that you long for it to destroy you…” his smirk widens fiercely, “…nightly.”
You laugh, holding that sensitive head in your mouth, making him feel the vibrations of your voice.
“Well…” he prods, another clenching thrust into your mouth, “aren’t you going to woo me with that mouth as well?” You laugh again, louder, wrapping your giggling lips around the whole circumference of him. “What do you insist on adoring most about my cock, darling?”
“Hmmmm,” you give another long and sultry hum as you let him slide from your mouth, “I love how hard you get when you see me… when you taste me…” You stray your fingers to wrap one at a time around him, giving his length a few hard strokes in your grip. “I love every vein, every ridge and rise that tickles my tongue when I take you…”
He gives a moan, his cock twitching, thickening…
“I love the way your balls tighten just as your body gets ready to fill me with your cum…” You murmur, giving his balls a gentle tug, as hard and tight as they are. He is ready, prodded towards his climax, driven by your pleasure and praise.
“Mmm, what else?” he rasps, ravenous for more. Hungry for your adoration.
But you raise above him, letting go of his cock, crawling up to cage him from above. His eyes are wide, his breathing ragged as he licks his lips for more.
“There is much more, but mostly I crave the way your cum drips from me for hours, days after you fuck me…”
“How could I refuse such a need, my love?” That purr, that smirk and canting brow, all of him makes your folds just aching for that relief of him buried deep inside you.
You fall into his kiss, your tongue and lips beginning to ache from all their use, but you don’t mind. Not as you settle your hips lower, the press of his cock at your entrance makes your breath catch hard and painful in your throat. “You make me so wet, you know,” you moan, sinking onto his cock with another heavy, damp sigh. “All because you are mine,” and with that, you slam your cunt on him, making your body take him so deep, you can’t fit any more.
He groans, hands clawing at your hips, he simply lets you, swivel and ride him. Eyes sharp and watching everything about you… you can see them darting, so quick, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Not the little bites you make on your lips, the way your breasts swing with each undulating slam you make on his lap, the way he can see himself entering you sweet, dripping, honeyed cunt with the way you rise up so high.
You splay your hands on his chest, and one of his hands comes to hold yours, lacing his fingers in between yours. His grip is tight, like a drowning man clinging to the only thing that will save him.
You.
You can feel him growing thick and hard inside you again. His breathing rasping and ragged. His hips trying to buck into you, even as he lets you ride his cock at your pace.
“Say it again,” he growls, eyes closed, head straining back into the mattress. “Say it again,” he cries louder.
“You’re mine…” you moan, his hand pushing your body down, his cock pulsing and thrusting hard into you as he comes.
So wet, so thick, so loud as he groans with his orgasm, you tumble into yours even as he still writhes and thrusts beneath you. His hand fisting in your hair pulls you down, making you collapse on his chest.
Breathless. Both of you pant. Sopping in sweat. But he won’t let you catch your air, not when his lips press yours, his breath rushing into your mouth, your lungs. His arms cling to you tightly, his embrace is like iron, keeping you clutched with your mouth fastened to his.
Like he would hold you thus for eternity.
Because that’s how long you have now. Eternity. Forever with your ascended master. Your rogue until the end of time.
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸
Read the rest of “The Rogue You Were:”
Part 1: Welcome me…
Part 2: Cleanse me…
Part 3: Surprise me…
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haruchuiyo · 2 years
Text
A soft admiration
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hanma shuji can’t stop thinking about you and he doesn’t plan to do so at all.
content: massive amount of fluff and kisses, most of this is written in hanma’s pov, more fluff again. nicknames such as ‘doll’ and ‘baby’
He can’t stop looking at you. He can’t and he doesn’t hate it. He doesn’t even want to stop. He loves the way your lips move when you talk, when you laugh or the way you pout when he so slightly sounds like he is not on board on what you’ve planned for today. He loves the way your ears just slightly move upwards when confused, or at least disappointed at him. He loves how you immediately seek comfort in him whenever you don’t feel so good.
One thing he can’t stop is from disliking how he can’t gain confidence to even tell you he likes you. He doesn’t feel shame in feeling insecure in case you don’t like him back. Just now sitting in front of you on the sand in the playground, as you were sitting on a rubber swing wheel, swaying gently.
He musters up all confidence he has.
“Kiss me.” He says and he felt like becoming a part of the sand when he sees your confused expression. “Why do you want a kiss, shuji? Haven’t you been kissed in ages?” You tease him as he chuckles slightly before turning serious.
“It’s because I like you, you fool.” He says looking at the sand drawing random circles, his tone soft, insecure. Unsure. Your heart rate speeds up and you feel your entire body warm up at his confession. You stop the swing.
“Then get up here, you idiot.” You tell him as he quickly looks up at you in surprise. “You’re even more of a fool for not realizing I like you as well.” You do a dramatic ‘humph’ sound looking away as you see him grin at you from your peripheral sight. He stands up, looming over you before taking a seat on the swing in front of you. You giggle at how small the swing is for him, considering he is quite big in size despite his tall height.
As he takes a seat, you jump on him making the swing rattle.
Hanma almost loses his balance as he lets out a surprised sound when you jumped into his arms. “A warning for that, doll.” He holds you by wrapping his arms below your backside as you wrap your arms around his neck. You giggle at his pretend disgruntled sounds as you pepper kisses all over his face. As you were standing up, you lean his head back and pepper kisses all over him once again. He smiles as you feel his hold below your backside tightens and pulls you closer into him.
You grin at him before pecking his cheeks and repeat the thing again making his smile expand ever so beautifully. You look so cute he wants to shower you with kisses of his own. When you peck him once again, he manages to bite your lower lip making you let out a surprised yelp into the kiss. He grins against your lips before locking his lips with yours properly. You pull away slightly, you hear him let out a slight disappointed sound, you brush your nose against his.
“So you like me huh?” You grin against him as he squeezes the back of your thighs making your grin wider. “Shhh, less talk more kiss.” He says before he stands up and walked forward. Both of you completely forgot you were still on the swing, so you fell backwards and off the swing. He manages to put his hand behind your head and one on your back to soften the impact for you. You both land with a thud against the sand. Both of you were quiet for a second before you burst into laughter. You hear the wheel swing rattle in noise, moving in places over the two of you.
“Should’ve given a warning for that, shuji.” You smile widely before he playfully rolls his eyes and holds your face and locks your lips with his. You pull away just a second after he did that.
“Shuji, don’t forget I had planned stuff for you today.” You tell him and he lets out a soft chuckle. “I know baby, but I love your kisses, hmm.” He crooned, as he playfully bats his eyelashes which you couldn’t help but smile at. He makes a small happy sound making you laugh a little before he holds onto your face gently again. You pull yourself closer against him by wrapping your arms around his neck.
It felt like time was not ticking away when his lips met yours, the flutter inside the both of you increases and intensifies the more you kiss. You’re so glad you’re laying down, if you had stood up you would’ve staggered against him and lost control of your balance. You feel how one of his hands trail down you side to hold you on your waist. You let out a soft gasp in content when you feel his hands go under your shirt. And he flips you two over so you were hovering over him. You gasp in surprise this time as he grins at your reaction before meeting your lips in another kiss which felt intense but tender.
Hanma could only feel how soft, how good, just how perfect you felt against him. It’s too good how your lips moves against his own. His heart pounds as his hands grows weaker on you, growing restless. He needs to you feel you everywhere. Just the feel of you. He loves how soft he feels against you, your mouth.
He has been wanting this moment for so long, that wasn’t clear for him wether it was real or a dream. And the moment he grasped the fact what he’s been wanting has come to life, he felt raw emotions surge inside him as his hold onto your hips curls up on your skin tighter.
Hanma halfway opens his eyes in the kiss, wanting to sneak a peek at you. You look devastating. He pulls away for a moment of breath, and as he does that he watches you. He sees your chest heave up and down as he feels you tuck strands of his hair away from his forehead. He sees a soft smile splay on your pretty swollen lips. He reaches up to your touch your face and rubs his thumb against the corner of your lips.
“You’re devastating.” He thinks his thoughts aloud, your heart pounds against your own chest at his compliment. You flick his forehead feeling embarrassed. Hanma knows this and couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulls your face down for a quick kiss.
Then he wraps his arms around your body and pulls your frame onto his, engulfing you in his embrace. He felt himself grow shy, happy and grateful. The warm feeling of your breath against his neck, the feel of your heartbeat against his chest stabilizes him.
“We’re still on the sand.” He hears you mumble as you draw circles on his clothed chest. He leans his face down to give you a kiss on the head.
“Let’s stay this for a little before going home.” Hanma says, you look up at him as you hum in agreement.
“Happy birthday shuji.” You give him a soft but quick kiss. He smiles, his eyes almost dazzling as he looks at you. “Thank you, doll.” He mutters before he holds your face softly before meeting your lips again in a delicate thorough kiss.
cries, wails and sobs loudly into the void, I want hanma shuji so bad cmon
If you’ve come this far, a reblog, feedbacks and likes would be so appreciated :3
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year
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Hiiii, wondering if we can get a Tom Bennett one shot of him sneaking into my room and taking my body down to pound down while my parents who hate him are next door sleeping
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Warnings: Smut. Word count: ~1300
She settles beneath the duvet, her body relaxing into the softness of the mattress and pillows when she hears it.
Tap.
Her eyes flit to the window where the sound has come from, but after a few seconds pass in silence she rolls over, closing her eyes and preparing to sleep.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The light dinging against the glass pane is unmistakable. She huffs, throwing back the covers and climbing out of bed. She cannot help the smile that tugs at her lips at the sight in the street below.
Tom Bennett.
He stands on the pavement, head tilted up towards her bedroom, a lit cigarette perched between his lips.
She lifts the window from the bottom by its wooden frame, pushing it upwards to open it. Her heart is hammering so wildly in her chest that she is certain Tom must be able to hear it from where he’s stood.
His forefingers pull the cigarette from his mouth as he exhales billowing smoke, his trademark smirk lighting up his handsome features. “Finally. Was running out of stones to throw.” He teases. “Thought you were gonna leave me to stand out here all night like a drip.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’ll have to put that out before you come up.” She says. “And be quiet.”
He nods, throwing the butt towards the ground and crushing it underfoot, before he begins his ascent up the drainpipe of the small terraced house. He climbs in through the window, sliding it closed behind him and turning to face her.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states quietly, eyes roving up and down her nightdress clad figure.
She fidgets awkwardly with the hem, avoiding his gaze. “I haven’t, Tommy, it’s just…”
“Your Mum and Dad are on to us, aren’t they?”
She sighs, finally looking up at him. “Dad’s been asking questions, wants to know where I keep going. Mum smells your fag smoke on my clothes when she does the washing.”
He nods, mischief sparkling in his blue eyes. “We’ll just have to be more careful then.”
She bites back a laugh. “I hardly think you climbing into my bedroom window is being careful, Tom.”
“Needed to see ya, didn’t I? Been thinking about my best girl.”
“Mum and Dad are asleep next door, they’ll hear- oh!”
Her sentence is cut off as Tom captures her lips with his own in a heated kiss. His hand slips beneath her nightdress to palm at her cotton covered centre.
“I can feel you soaking through your knickers already and I’ve hardly touched you.” He grins, as they break the kiss. “Lay on the bed for me.”
She wants to protest, knows she should tell him to leave, because they’ll get caught. However, the power that he has over her is simply too great, she can’t deny him anything. Her actions are led by the throbbing ache in her core, and so she lays back just as he’s instructed.
Tom shrugs out of his jacket, then makes quick work of tugging her nightdress over head and dragging her underwear down her legs. He grabs her knees, prying her legs apart, drawing in a shuddering breath as he takes in the sight of the slick between them.
This is too risky. She is breathing too heavily. Christ, when did she start breathing so loudly?! Her parents are surely going to hear them, and yet she can’t find it in herself to stop him, especially not when she hears the metallic clink of his belt opening.
“Not gonna be all soft and gentle how I know you like it normally.” He whispers, as he leans over her, caging her in with his forearms. He hasn’t even bothered to undress fully, just unfastened his belt and pulled his trousers down enough to free his cock. “You’ve made me wait too long, darlin’.”
She gasps as she feels the head of him tease through her folds, her hands fisting the sheets in anticipation of what’s to come next.
“Shhh.” He coos. “Don’t want mummy and daddy to catch their little girl copping the shagging of her life, do we?”
She clamps her hand over her mouth to stifle her mewl as he pushes inside. He is met with resistance, he always is, no matter how much he prepares her, every time feels like she’s being split open.
“So fuckin’ tight.” He grits out into the crook of her neck, barely giving her a chance to adjust before he begins pistoning his hips against hers.
The motion is making the metal frame of her bed squeak loudly. She doesn’t want him to stop, not ever, yet she knows the sound will awaken her parents - the walls in their little council house are paper thin.
“T-Tommy.” She stammers into his ear. “You’ve gotta slow down, or you’ll wake them up.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” He murmurs, lifting her up.
He staggers slightly, his trousers falling around his ankles, and they both giggle before shushing each other, as he walks her back towards the wall beside the window, pressing her against it.
Instinctively, she wraps her legs around his waist and he resumes his brutal thrusting into her, the renewed angle causing her toes to curl with every brush against the spongy spot deep inside of her.
She drapes her arms around his neck, muffling her soft moans and whimpers into his shoulder. With every strike of his hips she feels herself being nudged closer to the edge, his hot pants against her ear spurring her on.
“I’m close…” She whines.
“I know, darlin’.” He breathes out. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
She nods fervently. “Tommy, please!” She is unsure of what she is even begging for, she just knows she doesn’t want him to stop, the coil in her lower belly has grown painfully tight.
“You can come if you wanna, know you can’t help it.” He says, his voice low, yet the smugness is unmistakable.
She hates him for that, hates that he knows exactly what he does to her, hates that he is right. The coil finally snaps and she tightens and spasms around him, slapping her hand over mouth to force back the cry of his name that escapes her lips.
Mere moments later, he is pulling out, aiming white hot ropes of sticky spend across her thighs and belly as he releases with a muffled grunt.
He lowers her slowly to the floor, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist to support her shaky legs. He strokes her hair, peppering gentle kisses across her cheeks until their breathing slows.
She watches as he moves away to grab her discarded nightdress and underwear. He hands her the nightie, and as she pulls it back over her head she feels him using her knickers to wipe at the mess he’s made of her. She smiles at the softness of the gesture, a stark contrast to how roughly he has just taken her.
He pulls his trousers back up, fastening his belt and then slipping his jacket back on. Her heart twinges at the thought of letting him go. She wishes he could stay the night, but her dad wakes up so early to do the milk rounds that there’s no way they wouldn’t get caught.
Her eyes widen as she sees him slipping her used underwear into his jacket pocket.
“Tommy!” She hisses. “Mum is gonna start wondering where all my knickers are going!”
He grins wolfishly. “She counting them now, is she?”
Her cheeks burn with shame, though she cannot hide her smile. “It’s not the first pair you’ve taken.”
“Won’t be the last either.” He says with a wink, as he opens the window and climbs back out.
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flowerandblood · 10 months
Text
Green Snake, Red Lion (8)
[Slytherin • Aemond x Gryffindor • female]
[warnings: sex content, smut, fluff]
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[description: Aemond is a Chaser and captain of the Slytherin team. His biggest rival on the pitch from the Gryffindor team, turned to be his biggest fan, and he hates her with all of his heart. His hatred towards her slowly turns into something else, when she one day stands up for his sister, Helaena. This is slow burn love story.]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous and next chapters: Masterlist
______
As soon as Aemond found out that Solren had bought what they were talking about, he decided that he wouldn't last until the next match after all. He dragged her into the men's bathroom, all red with embarrassment, and locked her in one of the stalls. He pressed her against the cold, tile wall, cupping her cheeks in his hands, looking at her as if he wanted to devour her.
"Turn your back to me." He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, his voice trembling slightly. He'd wanted it since the night he kissed her. Ever since the Christmas Ball.
Solren swallowed loudly, obediently turning to face the wall, placing her small hands on it. She began to breathe faster when she heard the sound of his belt being unfastened.
She squealed in surprise as he suddenly grabbed her hips, pulling up her skirt, lowering her panties in one, swift motion. She pressed her cheek against the cold tile, breathing uneasily, as thirsty as he was.
"− Aemond −" She mumbled helplessly, feeling his swollen, throbbing manhood glide over her entrance, all sticky with her juices. She heard his sigh of delight, his hands clenched securely on her hips.
"Shhh. We have to be very quiet now, okay?" He whispered, gripping his cock with one hand, guiding the tip of it to her hot, wet entrance, sending shivers down both of them. He slid into her a little, and they both stifled a moan of pleasure, making a low, guttural sound.
"Mhm" She choked out and sobbed softly, as he slid all the way inside her, then began to move suddenly, imposing a fast, intense pace right away. They both began to gasp with pleasure, unable to stop themselves, the lewd, loud slaps of their wet bodies echoed around the restroom.
"− God, yes, just like that  − oh, baby  − I've wanted this since  − fuck  −" He gasped, pressing his lips together, speeding up even more, a soft, helpless moan escaped her mouth. He could feel her hot, rough walls pressing down on him greedily, and he knew that he wouldn't last long.
"− since I saw you at the ball − I-I almost dragged you here and, ah − fucked you just like I did now −" He stammered helplessly, feeling he couldn't hold it in any longer, the feelings that she was causing in him.
He heard her sob loudly at his words, her fingers clenching on the tiles, her walls pressing down on him hungrily, her whole body trembling in front of him. He watched, spellbound, as her moisture slowly trickled down her thighs, his cock slid in and out of her loudly, stretching her walls to the limit, fucking her brutally, leaving her gasping for breath.
"− I  − please  − please, don't stop  −" She mumbled desperately, being so close to being fulfilled, surprised at how much she enjoyed this aggressive, physical act.
He moaned low at her words, looking at her with a tenderness that he wouldn't have suspected himself. What he was doing with her now was completely different than with any other girl. He realized, feeling her warmth, being so deep inside her, how much he actually cared about her.
"− I love you −" He whispered softly. He felt her draw in a quick breath, her whole body tense. He didn't know why he was saying it, the words were just coming out of his mouth as he slid inside her again and again, with a loud slap of his thighs against her buttocks. "− God, I love you so fucking much −"
He felt her whole body tremble, she was no longer able to stop the moans that escaped her mouth, on the verge of orgasm. He saw her lips part in silent pleasure, as if her throat had suddenly tightened. Then she sobbed loudly, panting with him, her orgasm so strong that he only groaned helplessly and cum inside her, feeling her walls pressing down on him greedily, literally squeezing his semen out of him.
"− yes, baby, sqeeze me like that − fuck, you're such a good girl −" He whispered, panting heavily, feeling wonderful heat spreading through his body and indescribable, immense relief.
He bent over her, moving inside her for a moment longer, moaning with her, burying his face in her hair, enjoying her scent, closeness, fulfillment and delight that he could finally fill her with himself, give her what they both have wanted for so long.
He pressed his lips together, feeling slightly embarrassed by his sudden confession during their pleasure and her lack of response. However, as soon as she calmed her breathing a bit and swallowed hard, he heard her soft, warm voice.
"I fell in love with you from the first sight." She whispered sweetly, and he felt his heart clench painfully at her words.
The think that he was right.
That she had loved him all this time, all these years, even when he was the worst version of himself.
His hands slid from her hips to her waist, pressing her against him from behind. He pressed his nose to the nape of her neck, feeling his throat clench tight. He thought with surprise that he was touched.
He felt moved, because what she did for him took on a completely different meaning for him now. Her cheering, her words of comfort and appreciation.
He had never known them from his father, and his mother always told him what he wanted to hear. Snape couldn't praise anyone. Solren annoyed him and drove him crazy, but on the other hand she was constantly patching up his riddled self-esteem.
Now, that he thought about it, all he could feel was warmth spreading through his body. He thought that he had to make it up to her for all the harsh words that he'd said to her in anger. He knew better than anyone else that she never deserved it.
They stood there, breathing calmly, hugging each other, eyes closed, enjoying the moment and each other's closeness. They cleared softly their throats when they heard someone enter the restroom. Only then did Aemond slid out of her gently.
She hissed softly, feeling his semen start to run down her thighs, and immediately reached for a paper towel, drying herself off. Aemond watched the whole scene with a kind of pride as he buckled his belt, thinking that he was going to be her first and last men, who had the right to come inside her. He felt a pleasant shiver at the thought.
When they heard that the person who had come in had already left, they both left the bathroom. They looked at each other in silence. He smiled almost imperceptibly as her hand brushed his cheek. He kissed her fingers with a low grunt of satisfaction.
"See you after class." He whispered and leaned in to kiss her. Their kiss was light and innocent, the complete opposite of what had happened between them.
She grinned at him, gleeful and happy, and ran down the hall towards her classroom, already late. He looked at her and realized that he had never been more peaceful and fulfilled in his life than now.
They spent the rest of the day apart, having activities on different sides of the castle. After classes, Aemond headed to the Great Hall for dinner. He felt he had to see her, hear her, touch her.
The closer he got to her, the more he needed her.
He entered through the main gate and immediately felt an unpleasant twist in his stomach, as he saw Solren sitting at the Gryffindor common table, she and Cregan leaning towards each other, talking quickly about something. He saw her laugh at something that he said, and felt a pang of jealousy.
Her gaze flicked impatiently toward the entrance as if she was waiting for someone. As soon as she saw him, her eyes widened and shone with such immense joy that all the jealousy of a few seconds ago evaporated from him like steam.
She got up at once, saying something quickly to Cregan, leaving him alone as she headed towards him. She approached him timidly, smiling warmly. He couldn't help but touch her, his hand immediately going to her soft cheek. He stroked her skin with his thumb and she closed her eyes, enjoying their wonderful, tender closeness.
"Shall we eat at the Slytherin table?" He asked calmly and she nodded eagerly.
She drew in a quick breath and gave him a surprised look as he grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. In the beginning, he thought, everyone at school gave them little chance of a long relationship, but now that changed.
He couldn't imagine a day without talking to her, without touching her and kissing her. Every morning he was awakened by the satisfying thought that he would see her again.
They sat down at his table, some of his teammates who knew and liked her greeted her. They started eating, telling each other about their activities, complaining about the amount of homework and the approaching end-of-year exams.
His throat tightened at the thought of the holidays and the months away from her. He had planned to invite her to their house for a week, but it still seemed incredibly short amount of time.
They were snapped out of the conversation by a Slytherin girl who boasted that she had conjured up her own cupcakes. Indeed, they saw that several people around them were also eating them.
She put two in front of them and said that she wished them a tasty meal. Aemond wasn't fond of sweets, so he gave Solren his, continuing his discourse on the history of magic. He noticed that since they were together he had no trouble forming his thoughts and sentences around her anymore.
Solren ate both cupcakes with delight, listening to him carefully. She poured herself some pumpkin juice and drank it, letting him talk. She rested her chin on her hand, sighing softly, thoughtfully. Aemond smiled at the sight and ran his hand over her back.
"What are you thinking about?" He asked calmly, slightly amused, wondering if she was just thinking about their morning in the restroom. She moved away from him.
"Do not touch me." She said softly.
He stared at her, completely stunned. He swallowed silently, thinking quickly what he could have done or said to make her angry.
"What happened?" He asked tentatively, searchingly, taking his hand from her back, dismayed. Solren looked at him, pain in her eyes, her lips tight. He felt uneasy at the sight, completely surprised.
"Have you slept with many girls before me?" She asked quietly, and he opened his mouth in shock.
He could feel his heart pounding, wondering why this change of mood. His stomach tightened at the thought that she'd been choking it inside her all this time, that she'd been thinking about it and he didn't know it. He swallowed silently.
"What does it matter? I didn't feel about them the way that I feel about you." He said, trying to be calm and detached, wanting to hide how hard his heart was pounding, his hand clenched into a fist on the table in front of him. She shook her head at his words.
"I can't stop thinking about it. About you, taking them to the toilet, like you did with me. I don't feel good about that." She said, starting to breathe faster and faster, as if she was about to burst into sobs.
Aemond shook his head, shocked by her words and her condition. He had never seen a trace of jealousy or insecurity on her face before, and it seemed to him that she knew perfectly well that he was treating her exceptionally.
He had failed miserably, he thought, since she was suffering so much inside. He looked down, ashamed. He looked at the muffin wrappers, and felt goosebumps creep up the back of his neck.
"Let's go to one place for a while, shall we?" He said, taking her hand gently.
Solren began to sob softly, but followed him obediently. Aemond ignored the puzzled looks behind them and took her straight to Snape's office. He decided that he'd deal with that Slytherin girl later.
By the time they reached the Slytherin Headmaster's office, Solren was a tearful, snotty mess. Aemond was unable to calm her down. He sat her down in one of the black, glossy armchairs.
"You don't have to be here with me or sacrifice yourself for me." She mumbled, sniffling, her voice trailing off, constantly pausing mid-sentence to catch her breath. "I don't want to be a burden to you."
Snape watched the scene indifferently, then sighed heavily, reaching into one of his drawers, digging out an ampoule of some black, pouring drug. He opened it, heading towards them.
“Miss Solren clearly has an enemy. Full of Fear serum draws out and strengthens in a man everything that he fears. You can buy it at Zonk's shop, unfortunately." He grunted low in his nasal voice, as he handed him a glass of what was apparently an antidote.
"Some people find it amusing to amplify someone's fear a little, especially if they don't like that person." He said indifferently. Aemond knelt in front of her, all shaking with tears, unable to calm down.
"Drink this. You'll feel better. All right? Will you do this for me?" He asked, and she nodded, breathing fast and labored, barely able to see through the flood of tears streaming down her face. He handed her a glass and she drank it down in a gulp, wincing and shuddering.
After a while, he saw how slowly she began to calm down. She looked at him, then at her professor, getting redder and redder. She covered her face as if she was about to cry again, not from fear but from shame.
"Thank you, sir." She whispered and stood up suddenly, literally running out of the room.
Aemond, completely taken by surprise, simply ran after her, trying to stop her. He grabbed her arm, turning her to face him. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her, taking her face in his hands.
"It's okay, baby. She must have put something in our fucking cupcakes. You ate mine too and took a double dose. Nothing has happened." He whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, but she shook her head.
"No. No. I know you that don't like jealousy scenes and public drama. I'm so sorry. I'll understand if…” She whispered, but he closed her mouth, kissing her hungrily, his hand tightening on her hair. She moaned into his throat and involuntarily returned the kiss, squeezing his robe. He pulled away from her, looking at her.
"What you felt was true. Reinforced several times, but still, it's your concerns. Your concerns that you don't share with me." He said, frowning. She looked at him imploringly and lowered her gaze, pursing her lips. They stood in silence for a moment.
"I don't want to be a burden to you. I want to be happy and content for you always.” She said softly, red from embarrassment and crying. He pursed his lips at her words, swallowing softly.
“No one is always happy. It is impossible. I don't want you to hide your pain from me. Especially the one I'm the reason for." He said, his voice trembling slightly at his last sentence.
She stared at him for a moment, then lunged at him, burying herself into his chest, squeezing her fingers tightly around his back. He sighed softly, embracing her tightly, running his nose over her temple, cheek and neck, placing gentle kisses on her skin.
"We'll go for a walk now, and you'll tell me everything. Everything that troubles your heart."
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @diosademuerte @rwdkarla @echos-muses @slainey @letmeloveyouuuu
Others: @fangirlninja67 @helaenaluvr @queenofshinigamis @scmdsblog @talesofoldandnew @godrakin @nina2697 @saminalloxo @yentroucnagol
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https-capri · 9 months
Text
zhongli x fem!reader smut
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cw: watersports!!! don't like? done read! pwop, i really don't know it's just all smut, no caps is on purpose oh and use of petnames also
a/n: this fic is a little self indulgent because watersports is something i'm into, if you're not then don't read please don't leave hateful comments
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the night was still young when zhongli had already had you in multiple positions. moments ago, he had you bent over while his cock plunged in and out of you. he thrusted rhythmically into your wet cunt, pulling multiple orgasms out of you and the clock hadn't even struck midnight.
zhongli almost always preferred passionate sex when it came to you. he took his sweet time drawing his kisses from your lips down to your jaw and worked his way down the rest of your body; making sure he payed much attention to your sweet puffy and needy clit.
he made a habit of swirling his tongue in circles over your bud while his fingers slowly slid in and out of you, curling them once they went as deep as they could into your entrance.
zhongli slid his tongue up your slit, letting out a guttural laugh in response to your weak mewls and whimpers that begged him to stop teasing and edging you. after what felt like forever would zhongli finally let you come, sucking harshly on your clit and allowing you to come on his face.
cries and moans left your mouth about how it was 'too much' and you were 'overstimulated' but he insisted you could take it since you begged so sincerely for this. his hands never left your cunt but his lips worked there way back up your body, stopping to swirl his tongue around the areola of your nipple.
your pussy desperately chased the feeling of zhongli's lips as your hips drove into the air, humping his hand while he languidly circled your clit.
"your dick, baby.. need it 's much..." you whine, breathing heavily and pulling zhongli level to you.
your hands fill themselves with his chestnut hair and tug gently as you kiss him; deeply. your tongue swipes his bottom lip, to which he smiles in return and playfully bites yours.
the air between the both of you feels sweet and wholesome only momentarily when you feel the girth of zhongli's cock sliding into your cunt.
even though you were prepped the sheer size was always a shock to your body as a gasp escapes your lips, clinging onto zhongli.
"shhh, it's alright darling you can take it, i know you can." he says softly, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead after reassuring you.
zhongli slides the rest of his dick into you until he bottoms out, letting out a deep moan and having to hold back from rutting into your cunt that was sucking him in so devilishly.
his come from the rounds before served as lube now while you felt zhongli carefully sliding in and out of you. he wanted to make moments like these last, which is why he never moved too fast so neither of you would finish too early. though, that was never a problem with zhongli to begin with.
slowly pumping in and out of your gushing hole, zhongli held you close and made sure you kept your gaze fixated on him as he pleasured you.
he lifted your legs up and over his broad shoulders, hitting so much deeper into your cunt you were positive his tip was hitting your cervix with each thrust. a moan slipped from your lips, louder than the rest had been and grabbed your lovers attention.
"right there, hm? are you close, love?" zhongli asked, continuing to pound relentlessly at that one spot that had you tensing around his shaft.
he didn't have to ask to know you were close, he could tell by the way you were dripping around the base of his shaft and clenching around him that told him you were on the edge of finishing.
with that in mind, zhongli decided to make your orgasm a little more fun; knowing it wouldn't be your last one for the night.
as he rutted his hips into yours, hitting that one spot over and over again you couldn't help the whines and sinful begging that was leaving your lips.
"zhongli! 'm so close, don't stop~!" you pleaded, holding onto the forearms that caged you in tightly.
"i know, honey-" he replied calmly, thrusting into you quickly before pulling out, making your cunt clench onto nothing as your body yearns for another orgasm.
you desperately beg for him not to edge you another time but are cut off by a grunt from zhongli.
a warm stream splashes against your clit, resuming your pleasure.
"does that feel good, sweetheart?" zhongli asks innocently, as if he isn't relieving himself onto your pussy.
a incoherent jumble of moans and whines leave your plump and swollen lips, spreading your legs further and lifting your hips closer to his tip as zhongli continues to aim his stream directly on your clit. you never imagined zhongli being the type to be into such a thing but the way his piss felt on your clit when you were this close to your orgasm was indescribable.
his stream feels strong enough to aid in your orgasm, begging for him to keep going and that you were close.
his piss was a new found pleasure, leaving you to grope and toy with your nipples as zhongli's golden shower brought you to your orgasm. your body tensed, feeling your mind spin as you came from zhongli's stream on your puffy cunt.
you moaned zhongli's name, whining and whimpering that you were coming as zhongli's piss soaked your pussy. your stomach churned and filled with butterflies after you came, rolling your eyes back in bliss while zhongli's urine drenched you.
as your body recovered from its high, the jolting was at a minimal and zhongli was above you, panting as he shot his last spurts of urine onto your clit until he was satisfied. he finished emptying his bladder onto you before collapsing on top of you, kissing you sweetly and briefly resting; giving the both of you some time before your next round.
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konigenblobbity · 11 months
Note
i had this idea stuck in my mind, all i can think about is the trio that Hobie, Pavitr and reader (platonic) would make.
And i listen to pop AND I WOULD TOTALLY ARGUE WITH HOBIE TO SEE WHICH ONE IS BETTER BETWEEN PUNK AND POP LOL
And like reader would tease Pavtir that their are more taller even if just an inch (than there is hobie who is more taller than both of them💀)
And yeah just a platonic trio with them :D
Headcannons or anything is good I JUST NEED THIS
Request: Triple Threat
Hobie x Spidey!F!Reader x Pavitr
A/n: Made it more headcannony but yes I love this idea! I can just imagine them as a totally chaotic but amazing trio. I managed to answer this request so quickly because I was just able to put my thoughts on here and not worry too much about structure or spelling
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General Headcannon
A chaotic and just overall silly trio
Always up for a spontaneous bit of fun
Often the culprits for pranks played on Miguel
Affection shown through playful insults and jabs but also physical touch
The tightest hugs from Pavitr while ofc Hobie throws his arms over your shoulders when you’re walking
Somehow never get on each others nerves
Countless sleepovers! Just all in pajamas making s’mores and watching horror movies together!
Constantly cracking jokes behind Miguel’s back during meetings
“Man’s hands are glued to his hips” Hobie jokes
“Wonder if you can crush a watermelon from how tight his ass is” you say
“Shhh! Don’t make me laugh” Pavitr pleads, almost losing his composure
Miguel would turn around to the three of you fighting back laughter, turning red in the face to the point he can see it through the mask
You and Pavitr have gotten caught - multiple times - trying on Hobie’s clothes when at his place, doing your best impressions of him
“Oi Bruv! That’s messed, not at all my cuppa tea innit! I hate the PM and all that shite, inconsistency blah blah blah that’s me!”
You and Hobie saying ‘Chai Tea’ whenever someone asks about a drink, just knowing it’ll infuriate Pavitr for a good laugh
You three make fun of each other endlessly, but if anyone else dares to insult one of you, the other two get immediately protective and ready to fuck shit up
“What’d you just say?” You’d say
“You watch your mouth.” Hobie would warn
“I dare you to say it again” Pavitr immediately remarks
When it came down to it, no one could complain. You three made a great team and on missions worked like a goddamn masterpiece
Height related Headcannon
“You’re not!” Pavitr’s voice got higher, which only made you smirk and tease him more
“I totally am! You just won’t admit I’m right” you bring a hand up, placing it on the top of your head and then moving it forward to float above Pavitr’s “you’re totally shorter than me!”
“Only because you wear those insane platform boots!” Pavitr retorts back and points at the three inches of platform attached to the sole of your boot
You shrug and put your hands in your pockets “still taller than you” you go to walk off but Pavitr uses a web to pull you back, you look at him with feigned shock
“This conversation isn’t over” Pavitr said, hands on his hips and eyes narrowed at you. You then send a web to hit him directly in his face, making him let out a soft yelp “don’t. web me” you say with a smirk watching as he struggles to pull it over his mask
“Why you!” He mumbles and finally gets off the web, his eyes glaring at you. You narrow your eyes back at him and wait for him to attack again
It then that Hobie’s voice draws both your attentions “What are you pipsqueaks fighting about?” Once he reaches you he rests his arm on your head making you scowl
“She thinks she’s taller than me!” Pavitr says pointing a finger at you and you let out a soft scoff “snitch” Hobie just chuckles
“You’re both short. There. Argument settled” as he walks over to Pavitr patting his head with a hand and you can hear how Pavitr mumbles under his breath
As Hobie walks further into HQ, past both of you, you and Pavitr make eye contact. Giving each other a small nod. Both of you sending a web at Hobie’s feet causing him to trip and fall
You and Pavitr break out into hysterical laughter, grabbing your stomach as you watch Hobie try to unwrap the web around his ankles
“My god! Watch your step next time ‘pipsqueak’” your words only make Pavitr laugh harder, you smile as you watch how he takes off his mask to wipe away his tears from his laughter
As you laugh your eyes no longer focus on Hobie, the next thing you know Pavitr is pointing behind you, trying to say something but still laughing too hard to speak
You suddenly feel Hobie place his hand on your shoulder “Did you have a good laugh? My turn” and you feel yourself be pulled up into the air by your feet, hanging upside down from the ceiling by a web around your ankles
Before you can undo it Hobie uses another web to wrap you up as if in a cocoon, leaving your face showing but the rest of your body is wrapped up “Hey! Let me out! It wasn’t my idea!” You say
Hobie just laughs and shrugs “well, sucks for you I guess” and then steps back, putting his hands in his pockets. He takes his mask off and you see the wide smirk on his lips, he then peels yours off looking at your unamused expression as you hung from the ceiling
For the next few minutes Hobie and Pavitr just take photos of the whole thing, doing obnoxious poses as one of them takes a selfie
Everyone else at HQ just sighed, knowing this was an everyday thing.
Miles leans towards Peter “so they’re friends?” He asks and Peter nods “Sure are. The closest friends too.” Miles just nods his head once “huh. Alright”
Pop vs Punk Headcannon
Even though the three of you were friends, you had your differences.
Even though you could swing where ever the hell you wanted, the three of you loved car trips together, usually asking one of the adults to drive you places seeing as you’re all not able to drive
The car rides are fun, even if every time you and Hobie fight for who gets the aux
“Not fair Hobie! You got it last time!” You say as you watch him plug in his phone “Too bad! We’re not listening to any of your basic studio plant pop music!” And you just groan out
“Well I’m sick and tired of your punk, I need some more light in my life!” You complain but Hobie just turns on the music, sitting in the passengers seat rocking his head to the music
“PAVI! You agree with me don’t you?! Help me tell him to turn it off!” You try to speak over the music to Pavitr who was sitting next to you
“Sorry! I cant focus on that right now. You’re both mature enough to figure it out!” He looks down at his phone, too busy texting Gayatri
But he glances your way and shrugs as he spots your unimpressed grimace
You sit back in your seat crossing your arms “and he gets shotgun again?! So much for ‘I don’t believe in consistency’” You murmur to yourself
“I heard that!” Hobie says and looks over the chair at you, and you look at him with a snarky expression
“Good! I wanted you to!” You say and lean forward, glaring into Hobie’s eyes, his squinting as he does the same
There’s silence as you both engage in an unspoken eye staring contest
Pavitr let’s out a sigh, leaning forward and turning down the blaring music before sitting down again “finally. Some silence”
Neither you or Hobie say anything in fear of losing the contest. Neither of you aware of the stakes… but yet you knew you couldn’t lose
Finally he blinks and you cheer in victory, he just groans in annoyance “Cheater.” He says and you scoff, punching his shoulder jokingly
“Prick. Now hand me the aux” you demand and he begrudgingly abides, unplugging his phone and letting you plug yours in
As much as Hobie pretended to despised your pop, whenever you played your playlist in the car all three of you would be singing
Much to the dismay of the driver of the car… usually Miguel or Jess
If it was Peter he couldn’t help but sing along, and those were the best car rides
After the first time Miguel or Jess drove you, they always ask Peter to do it, haunted by the absolute chaos the three of you managed to make in just an hour
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dianawinchester03 · 2 months
Text
Season 1, Episode 9 - Home
Series Masterlist
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(Slight TW: Reader has a minor panic attack on the first scene. As someone who suffered with panic attacks frequently, I wrote it to the best that I could explain from my experience. You can skip if you'd like but it partly adds to the plot.)
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Y/N's POV
Fire blasting and burning down a house.
A woman with her two young kids at the window, screaming for help.
A lamp cord wrapped around Sam's neck choking him to death.
Dean with an ax in his hand, knocking down a wall, then a knife flies at him, stabbing him in his heart.
People screaming for mercy.
My eyes fly open after being screwed shut. Realizing it was all just a dream I try to catch my breath. I can feel my head stinging with a horrible headache. I woke up drenched in my own sweat that's running down my neck and forehead. I look over frantically at the beds next to me to see Sam and Dean still asleep on their respective beds. I push my covers off and run into the bathroom. Splashing my face with cold water.
What was that? Was that a vision? It couldn't be. I'm not psychic like my mom, if I was it would've shown up long before. Holy fuck. Am I late bloomer or some shit? It felt way to real to be just a dream. No no no this can't be happening. I couldn't be psychic. I can't be. It should've shown up sooner.
God how I going to explain this to the boys. Are they gonna hate me? I'm overthinking. If I don't stop I'll start to hyperventilate. Calm down girl CALM DOWN. Relax. Just count like dad always thought you when this happens.
I could feel my heart racing, it's beating escalating by the second. Practically pumping out of my chest. I struggle to get air into my lungs, I could feel my breathing falter as my mind swirls, the images of that family burning alive, the agony they went through. My palms begin to clam up and I could feel my head growing lighter.
"One...breath...Two...breath...Three..." I whisper to myself counting until ten. My back presses against the door as I slide down it. I curl into a ball, pulling my knees to my chest. Crying, begging for that to not be a vision. Please just be a dream. Please just be a dream. I don't want to be psychic. I can't be. I can't be. I know it's supposed to be a gift but I don't want it!!
I hear light knocking on the bathroom door, "Y/N/N? Is everything okay?" I hear Deans soft voice outside, concern seeping through his tone. I sniffle and scoot to the side, opening the door. His face drops when he sees me on the floor, my tear stained face buried in my hands.
"Princess...what's wrong?" He instantly wraps his arms around me, sinking in the floor next to me and I bury my face in his chest sobbing. I could feel everything in that dream. Everything that those dying people were feeling. "I-I d-don't wan-" I struggle to get the words out, coughing through my tears.
"Hey shhh, it's okay sweetheart. I've got you" He coos in my ear, patting my head soothingly. "Was it a nightmare?" He asks me gently. "I don't know" My voice cracking. "It's okay, you don't need to talk about it. I'm here. Just let it out" He whisper into my ear, giving me a kiss on my forehead and the top of my head.
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"Alright, I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig" Dean tells us but my mind is still stuck on the dream I had last night, currently I'm drawing the house I saw in my dream. Something about it seems so familiar but I can't pinpoint what or why.
I'm sitting across from him at the desk on their motel room while Sam is on his bed, drawing like me. "A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali, it's crew vanished" He says, taking a sip of his coffee. "And uh...we've got some cattle mutilations in West Texas" He continues to list. "Hey!" He calls out to me and Sam annoyed, we look up from our pads.
"Am I boring you two with this hunting evil stuff?" He asks us, glaring. "No. I'm listening. Keep going" Sam says quietly. "Yeah, me too. Continue" I say, looking back down at my pad with the drawing. "And here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times" Dean emphasized the last part.
"Any of these things blowing up your skirt, princess?" He asks me, waving his hand in my face. I scan over my drawing and something clicks in my head. "Wait, I've seen this." Sam says. "Holy shit." I whisper to myself. "What?" Sam asks going to his bag to get something.
I go into my bag and pull out an old picture my dad had with him, mom, John, Mary and a four year old Dean outside of their old house. "What're you guys doing?" Dean asks Sam. Sam pulls out an old picture of Mary and Dean. Comparing it to the picture he drew of a tree and it was identical to the tree in the picture behind them.
"Look at this" I show Sam the picture of the house that I drew and the picture of our parents and Dean as a kid, behind is John and Mary'a old house...identical to the one that I drew from my dream. Sam is stunned by this, "You saw it too..." He said lowly and I nod shakily.
"Dean. I know where we have to go next" I say shakily. "Where?" Dean asked confused. "Back home. Back to Kansas" Sam says and Dean seems shocked by this. "Okay, random. Where did that come from?" He asks us. "Alright, these pictures were taken infront of our old house, right?" Sam takes the picture from my hand and his picture, showing it to Dean.
"This is house where your mom died?" I asked. "Yeah." Dean confirms looking at the picture. "It didn't burn down completely like Y/N's parents house. They rebuilt it, right?" Sam asks. "I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you guys talking about?" Dean asks us confused. "Okay look. This is gonna sound crazy but the people who live in your old house...I think they might be in danger..." I trail off looking at Sam.
"We think they might be in danger" Sam says. "Why would you guys think that?" Dean asks. "Uh..just...um..Look just— You gotta trust us on this, okay?" Sam stutters trying to come up with an excuse, grabbing his bag and I go to grab mine. "Okay, whoa, whoa. Trust you?" Dean gets up from the table as we pack our stuff.
"Yeah" Sam says. "Come on guys. That's weak. You gotta give me a little more than that" Dean says. "I can't really explain it is all." Sam says. "Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you do" Dean says annoyed and Sam turn to him sighing. "I have these nightmares" Sam begins. "So do I" I add. "I've noticed" Dean says sympathetically, probably due to my episode last night.
"And sometimes...they come true" Sam says and Dean is stunned. "Come again?" Dean asks. "Look, Dean..I dreamt about Jessica's death for days before it happened." Sam tells him. "Sam, people have weird dreams man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence" Dean assured him, sitting on the bed.
"No. I dreamt about the blood dripping; her on the ceiling, the fire. Everything and I didn't do anything about it because I didn't believe it" Sam argues. "It's true Dean. Days before me and my dad argued. I dreamt about it, I dreamt about me leaving and before you try to feed me that psychology bullshit. I'm not gonna eat it. Just listen to us. Please." I plead with him and Dean sighs shaking his head.
"The day Jessica died...I had this erring feeling that something bad was gonna happen all day. Then we heard Sam scream...." I confess and Sam looks at me shocked. "Really?" He asks. "Yeah. I'm sorry Sam I didn't k-" I go to say but he cuts me off. "It's not your fault. It's okay. You don't need to apologize" He assures me with a small smile and I sigh.
"Look Dean. We're dreaming about that tree, about our house and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean. That's where it all started man. This has to mean something right?" Sam tries to reason frustrated. "I don't know" Dean says shaking his head.
"What do you mean you don't know?" I ask him frustrated. "Dean. You found me on the floor last night crying. It was because I dreamt that! Exactly what Sam saw, I did too!" I exclaim and he looks at me shocked. "I felt the pain, the misery, the anguish, everything. As if I was there" I tell him, tears forming in my eyes. Don't be a little bitch y/n, tough it out.
"This woman might be in danger. I mean this might even be the thing that killed our moms and Jessica!" Sam exclaims. "Alright. Just slow down would you?!" Dean yells, getting up from the bed and walking over to the desk. "I mean, first you tell me you two have got the Shining and then you tell me that I've gotta go back home. Especially when..." Deans voice is shaky as he trails off.
"When what?" Sam asks. "When I swore to myself that I would never go back there" Dean says sadly and my heart drops. I didn't even think about that. Dean saw everything that happened to his mom that night and then heard about everything that happened to mine. Of course he wouldn't want to go back. Gosh I feel so stupid and selfish now.
"Dean..." I say softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of it like that" I apologize, putting my hand on his shoulder comfortingly and he looks down sadly. "Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure" Sam pleads. And he looks back at Sam with anguish in his eyes, then back at me he sighs. "I know we do" He says understandably.
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The boys and I pull up to their old house, by just the look on Deans face you can tell it's already hard enough on him. "You gonna be alright, charming?" I ask him softly, concerned. "Let me get back to you on that, Princess" He says quickly, staring at the house.
We all exit the Impala and walk towards the house. I take the initiative to knock on the door and after a couple seconds a young blonde woman answers it...the same woman from my dream. My breath hitches in my throat when she comes into view and I notice Sam is taken back by it too. Holy fuck it was real.
"Yes?" She asks us sweetly after opening the door. "Sorry to bother you, ma'am. But uh we're with the Federal-" Dean goes to lie but Sam cuts him off. "I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean and our best friend Y/N L/N. Umm...we used to live here. Y/N used to live down the block" Sam says, I notice the look of panic on Deans face when Sam spills the beans.
"You know, we were just driving by and the boys were wondering if we could come and see the old place" I say sweetly. "Winchester and L/N....Yeah that's so funny. You know I think I found some of your photos the other night" The woman says with a smile on her face. "You did?" Dean asks shocked.
She looks at us hesitantly for a second before inviting us in. "Okay, come on in" She opens the door wider and we all look at each other with a pleasant smile on our faces towards her and enter. She introduced herself as Jenny as we follow into the kitchen behind her to see a toddler boy, no older than 3, in his crib bouncing up and down chanting.
The second I entered, I felt a heavy sense in the house. I could feel a weight on my chest, like I couldn't breath when I entered. It felt dark, evil, brooding...I couldn't explain it but it wasn't good whatsoever. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
"Juice, Juice, Juice" and a young girl probably around 10, seemingly doing homework at the kitchen dining table. "That's Richie. He's kind of a juice junkie." She introduces her son, going into the locked fridge and getting a sippy cup with juice.
"But hey. At least he won't get scurvy" He smiles at him, giving him his juice. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean and Y/N. Sam and Dean used to live here." Jenny tells her young daughter, Sari, at the dining table. "Hi" Sari says with a pleasant smile on her face. "Hey, Sari" I say sweetly while Sam and Dean wave at her.
"So you just moved in?" Dean asks. "Yeah. From Wichita" Jenny informs us. "You got family here, or..?" I ask curiously. "No, I just..uh..um..needed a fresh start, that's all" She stummers on her words as we nod. "So new town, new job— I mean, as soon as I find one. New house" She says with an awkward smile.
I look at the corner of my eye to see an unease but sad smile on Deans face. "So, how are you liking it so far?" Sam asks. She turns to us a bit unsure, "Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home...I mean, I'm sure you have lots of happy memories here...but this place has its issues" She puts it vaguely.
"What do you mean?" I ask concerned. "Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." She explains and that sets alarms off in my head. "Well, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asks. "Um...Sinks backed up. There's rats in the basement" Jenny further informs us and Deans frown deepens.
She realizes how it might sound and quickly apologizes, "Im sorry. I don't mean to complain" She says sincerely but he smiles reassuringly. "No. Have you see the rats or have you just heard scratching?" Dean asks. "It's just the scratching, actually" She says lowly. "Mom?" Sari calls Jenny over.
"Ask them if it was here when they lived here" Sari says and our faces drop. "What, Sari?" Sam asks her. "The thing in my closet" She says. "Oh, no, baby. There was nothing in their closets. Right?" Jenny tries to convince Sari and herself, turning to us for back up. "Right. No, no, of course not" I tell Sari nicely with a smile on my face.
"She had a nightmare the other night" Jenny tells us. "I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom and it was on fire" Sari insists and the boys and I share bewildered looks.
We're now walking out of their old house and as soon as we left, the feeling I was getting when we entered the house was gone. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I've never felt this was on other hunts before, I can't tell why I felt like that in Sam and Deans old house. It makes no sense.
"You hear that? A figure on fire" Sam says a bit panicked as we leave the house, walking down the porch. "And that woman, Jenny, that was the women from your dreams?" Dean asks us. "Yeah" I confirm, "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights. Both signs of a malevolent spirit" I list off as we walk towards the car.
"Yeah, well. I'm just freaked out that the two of you guys weirdo visions are coming true" Dean says roughly and I roll my eyes. "Thanks" I grumble sarcastically and his face drops when he remembers that my mom was psychic. "Y/N I'm so-" He goes to apologize but I cut him off. "Forget about that for a second" I say bluntly.
"The thing in the house, you think its the thing that killed our moms and Jessica?" Sam asks. "I don't know" Dean says frustrated. "Well, I mean. Has it come back or has it been there the whole time?" I ask. "Or maybe it's something else entirely guys. We don't know yet" Dean argues. "Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get them out of that house" Sam defends.
"And we will." Dean says and goes to go into the car but I stop him, "No, we mean now" I argue. "And how you gonna do that huh? You got a story that she'll believe!?" Dean gets into my face and argues back. "Then what are we supposed to do?!" I yell frustrated, taking a deep breath.
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"We just need to chill out, that's all" Dean tells us as he filled up Baby with fuel. We're all at a gas station, Sam outside leaning against the car next to me while I'm smoking a cigarette. "If this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" I ask as I take one last drag from my cigarette before flicking it on the ground and crushing it with the heel of my boot.
Sam takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. "We'd try to figure out what we were dealing with. We'd dig into the history of the house." He answers, walking over to Dean who's by the trunk. "Exactly, except this time we already know what happened" Dean says. "Yeah but how much do we even know? How much do you actually remember?" I ask Dean gently, walking over to them and leaning against the trunk next to Sam.
"About that night you mean?" He asks. "Yeah" Sam says and Dean shakes his head. "Not much. I remember the fire. The heat...." Dean says taking a deep breath, reminiscing on the events of the unfaithful night. I could see the flash of emotions as he talks about it. "....then I carried you out the front door" Me and Sam head snap up when Dean says this.
"You did?" Sam asks surprised. "Yeah. Why. You never knew that?" Dean says casually. "No" Sam shakes his head. "And, uh, well you know Dad and Mr. L/N's stories as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling. And so was Mrs. L/N. Whatever put them there was long gone by the time our dads found them" Dean says trying to suppress his emotions.
I just stare at the floor as he talks about it. A lump growing in my throat. I never knew my mom obviously. Granted neither did Sam. Hell, Dean knew my mom more than me. Dean used tell me about when he was little, my mom and dad used to babysit him every so often whenever John and Mary needed the assistance.
He always loved being around my mom because apparently she used to make him pie. Apple pie, his favorite. She used to sneak him slices to carry home because his mom didn't want him eating too much sweets. From what I can tell, they shared a really close bond.
He absolutely adored her and I can tell that when he found out the same thing happened killed my mom, it truly affected him. He lost two mother figures in a span of a couple months, I may have never known my mom but by the stories I've heard. I know she was an amazing woman that I'd wish to be like someday.
"And they never had any theories about what did it?" Sam asks Dean. "If they did, they kept it between themselves" Dean says, turning around to lean against baby with us, me in the middle of the boys. "God knows we asked them enough times" I scoff. "Okay, so if we're gonna figure out what's going on now...we have to figure out what happened back then...and see if it's the same thing" Sam says.
"Yeah. We'll talk to our dads friends, neighbors. People who were there at the time" Dean says nodding. "Does this feel like just another job to you fellas?" I ask ironically. Sam chuckles dryly but Dean doesn't answer. Taking it into thought before excusing himself, "I'll be right back, I gotta go to the bathroom" He says walking away.
"Yeah, me too" I say to Sam, walking towards the bathroom. I'm just a couple feet behind Dean, when I bend the corner I see him dialing a number into his phone and put it to his ear. "Dad....I know I've left you messages before. I've left F/N messages and so have Y/N. I don't even know if you get them" He clears his throat lightly.
"But I'm with Sam and Y/N. And we're in Lawrence...and there's something in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not...but.." He trails off before taking a deep breath. "I don't know what to do" His voice cracks when he says this and my heart sinks in my chest. I could just cry hearing the way he sounds so defeated. "So, whatever you and Mr. L/N are doing. If you two could just get here....Please" He pleads.
"I need your help, Dad" He finishes, sounding like he's in the verge of tears before hanging up the phone. He turns around to see me, his face dropping probably at the fact I just heard everything. "Dean..." My tone is sad, concerned and soft. As I say this, his head drops and it's like the dam broke and he couldn't hold back his tears.
I rush over to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, his arms wrap around my waist. I pull him close as he buries his face into my hair on the side of my neck sobbing. "Hey shhhh, it's okay darling. I've got you" I coo soothingly into his ear while he sobs softly, his body trembling. "We'll find them, I promise. Okay?" I pull away and take his face in-between the palm of my hands.
"I promise" I say again, a little more firmly. He nods weakly as I wipe away some of his tears with my thumb before pressing a kiss to his cheek and holding him again tightly. "I'm here, just let it out" I say softly as I rub my fingers in his hair.
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"So you, John Winchester and F/N L/N. You guys used to own this garage a long time ago?" Dean asks Guenthur. After calming down and leaving the gas station. We all decided to go to our dads' old garage they owned together with an old friend of theirs and ask him a couple questions. "Yeah, we used to. A long time ago" Guenthur says chuckling a bit, he then turns to us wiping his hands with his rag.
"Matter of fact, it must be 20 years since John and F/N disappeared. So why are the cops interested all of a sudden?" He asks us suspiciously. "Oh, we're reopening unsolved cases. The Winchester and L/N disappearances are a couple of them, seeing as they're closely related" I say professionally and the boys nod along in agreement.
"Well, what do you wanna know about John and F/N" Guenthur asks us. "Whatever you remember, you know? Whatever sticks out in your mind" Dean says. "Well, he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that. And F/N was a bit of a dick but boy that man could put down in a drinking contest" He tells us chuckling and we all chuckle along with him.
"And whatever the game, John hated to lose, you know? It was that whole marine thing. And F/N, despite whatever he had a heart of gold. He had this tough way about him, you know he's seen some shit" Guenthur chuckles and I nod along listening. "They sure loved their wives. Mary and M/N. And they dotted on their kids" He says.
I see Dean's face drop again at the mention of our moms. "But that was before the fires?" I ask. "That's right" Guenthur confirms. "They ever talk about what happened those nights?" Sam asks. "No. Not at first. I think they were in shock." He tells us. "Right. But eventually. What did they say about it?" I ask.
"They weren't thinking straight. John kept saying something caused that fire and killed Mary." Guenthur says. "They ever say what did it?" Dean asks. "Nothing did it. It was an accident. An electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something" Guenthur assures us. "I begged F/N to get him some help instead he bought into it and uh...." Guenthur explains to us and trails off, looking down.
"And what?" I insist. "Well they just got worse and worse" He tells us. "How?" Dean asks. "Oh, they started reading these strange old books that F/N had. F/N took him to this palm reader in town that was friends with M/N" He told us and Dean looks over at me. "Palm reader? Do you have a name?" He asks him. "No" Guenthur scoffs.
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Later we're by a pay phone and Sam's going through the phone book while Dean and I lean against baby. "So there are a few psychics and palm readers in town." Sam tells us. "There's uh, someone named El Divino. There's the mysterious Mr. Fortensky." He says the last part chuckling.
"Uh, Missouri Mosley. Some dude named—" He goes to continue but Dean cuts him off. "Wait wait. Missouri Mosley?" Dean asks. "What?" Sam asks confused. "That's a psychic?" He further questions. "Yeah. Yeah I guess so." Sam says and Dean gets off of baby and opens the backdoor, grabbing John's journal.
"Dad journal. Come here look at this" He tells us as he opens it and we walk over to take a look. "First page. First sentence. Read that." He hands me the book and Sam stands next to me. "I went to Missouri and I learned the truth. What F/N was telling me was true" I read out loud off the page and look back up at the boys.
"I always thought he meant the state" Dean says.
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After we found Missouri's shop location in the phone book. It wasn't too far so we hopped into baby and headed on over. Now sitting in the waiting area, a dark skinned middle aged woman comes out talking to a middle aged man.
"Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you" She assures the man, smiling. "Well, thank you" The man thanks her and leaves. When he leaves she looks at us and takes a deep breath, "Poor bastard. His woman is cold banging the gardener" She tells us and I cock my eyebrow at this.
"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asks and she turns to us. "People don't come here for the truth. They come here for good news" She tells us bluntly. "Well. Sam, Dean and Y/N, come on already. I ain't got all day" She says a bit annoyed and we sit there stunned. Guess she really is a psychic.
We follow behind her into what looks like her office. "Well, let me look at you" She smiles laughing. "You boys grew up handsome" She compliments them. "And you, Y/N. Oh you look just like your mother. As beautiful as ever" She says sincerely to me, a bit of tears in her eyes. "Thank you" I say softly.
She smiles at me and then turns to Dean. "And you were one goofy looking kid too" She turns to Dean laughing while me and Sam snicker. "You ain't wrong there" I mutter and Deans head snaps on my direction, giving me a slight glare. I scrunch my nose at him before flashing him a wink and he rolls his eyes scoffing, Missouri's eyes glances between us for a couple seconds with a sly smirk on her face.
She then takes Sam's hand with a smile, "Sam. Oh, honey" She gasps sadly, her smile dropping. Sam seems a bit weirded out by this. "I'm sorry about your girlfriend" She tells him sincerely. "And your fathers. They're missing?" She asks us and we're all surprised, taken back at her accuracy.
"How'd you know all that?" Sam asks. "Well...you were just thinking it just now" She tells us. "Where are they? Are they okay?" Dean asks concerned. "I don't know" She tells us. "Don't know? You're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean asks a bit annoyed. "Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician?!" She exclaims annoyed while Dean looks like a little boy being scolded by his parent.
Me and Sam stifle our laughter at Dean being told off. "I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please" She orders us, gesturing to some chairs and the boys take a seat. I don't hold back my laughter anymore. "I like you Ms. Moseley" I smile at her and she flashes me a grin. "Please. Call me Missouri" She says and I sit inbetween the boys.
"Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm gonna whack you with a spoon!" She suddenly snaps at Dean and he freezes. "I didn't do anything" He says defensively. "Well, you were thinking about it" She shoots back and he looks at us before shrugging. Me and Sam smile at the sight and stifle our laughter.
"Okay. So our dads. When did you first meet them?" Sam asks her. "They came for a reading. A couple months after Mary died, it was also a few days after M/N died" She says sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. "F/N referred him to me because M/N was a good friend of mine. I just convinced John about what was really out there in the dark because he wouldn't believe F/N. I guess you could say, I helped draw back the curtains for him" She explains to us.
"What about the fires?" Dean asked. "Do you know about what killed our moms?" I ask. "A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing" She tells us. "And could you?" Sam asks and she shakes her head. "I don't..." She hesitates.
"What was it?" I ask shakily. "I don't know." She says. "Ohhhhh....but it was evil" Her voice goes low and my breath hitches. Missouri looks at me and narrows her eyes. "You felt it didn't you?" She asks me and I look down. I notice the boys heads snap over at me shocked. "I don't know what I felt. But it wasn't good" I say.
"So what? Y/N's psychic too?" Dean pipes up. "No" "Possibly" Me and Missouri say at the same time. "It's not possible" I shake my head. "I would've known by now" I say firmly and Missouri frowns. "There are such a thing as late bloomers. It is possible Y/N. You could be unintentionally blocking your abilities on your own" She tells me.
"How?" Sam asks. "I can't say. Only Y/N would know" She says gently, looking at me. I shake my head and I notice the boys give me a sympathetic look. "So, you think somethings back in that house?" Missouri asks us changing the subject which I am grateful for. "Definitely" Sam says nodding.
"I don't understand" Missouri sighs. "What?" I ask. "I haven't been back inside but I've been keeping an eye on the place and it's been quiet. They never rebuilt F/N's old house. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?" She questions.
"I don't know. But our dads going missing and Jessica dying and now this house....all happening at once, it just feels like something is starting" Sam replies and I nod in agreement. "That's a comforting thought" Dean says sarcastically.
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We convinced Missouri to come with us back to Sam and Dean's old house to take a look at the place. Now knocking at the front door, Jenny answers with her son Richie on her hip. "Sam, Dean, Y/N" She breathes out a bit relieved, looking like she was just frightened. "What're you doing here?" She asks us.
"Hey, Jenny." Sam says softly. "Um, this is our friend, Missouri" Sam introduces Missouri. "If it's not too much. We were hoping to show her the old house. You know? For old times sake" Dean says nicely as Missouri smiles at Jenny who looks at us a bit awkwardly.
"You know what? This isn't a good time" Jenny denies and goes to close the door. "Listen Jenny, it's important- OW!" Dean tries to budge but Missouri smacks him upside his head. "Give the poor girl a break. Can't you see she's upset?" Missouri snaps at him while Sam and I bit back our laughter.
"Forgive this boy. He means well. He's just not the sharpest tool on the shed. But hear me out" Missouri turns to Jenny, pleading with her nicely while Dean glares at her. Sam and I are shocked by this but try to stifle back our snickers. "About what?" Jenny asks, exasperated.
"About this house" Missouri states. "What're you talking about?" Jenny asks us but I get the sense she knows more than she's letting on. "I think you know what she's talking about" I chime in, giving her a knowing look and she looks down guiltily. Missouri flashes me a small smile before turning to Jenny.
"You think there's something in this house. Something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?" Missouri adds and Jenny takes a deep panicked breath. "Who are you?" She asks us. "We're people who can help. Who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us just a little" Missouri says calmly and Jenny hesitates a little bit before obliges, letting us in.
"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it" Missouri says as we walk into Saris room. "Why?" Sam asks. "This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened" She informs us. Sam looks visibly nervous, his Adam's apple bobs as he takes a look around the room.
As I look around the room I could feel the darkness surrounding the room that I felt earlier, this time. It's a lot heavier, more potent. It didn't feel like just one thing. It felt like there's a ton of dark shit in here and it's not letting up easily.
Dean seems a bit nervous too as he pulls out his EMF meter, powering it up. Missouri turns to him and asks, "That an EMF?" He looks up, "Yeah" He responds. "Amateur" She scoffs and he glares at her a bit. She walks around the room, touching various items and Deans EMF goes off a bit, the red lights and noise blurring.
"I don't know if you kids should be disappointed or relieved but this ain't the thing that took your moms" She tells us and we're all stunned. "Are you sure? How do you know?" Sam asks shakily. "It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different" She explains to us.
"What is it?" Dean asks and she walks over to the closet, opening it. It felt like a flash of energy just came out of it as she opened it. "Not it. Them. There's more than one spirit in this place" Missouri states and I gasp lowly. "You felt it too didn't you. Don't deny it" She turns to me.
"I-" I stutter on my words, not able to explain. I can't be psychic. I just shrug, not looking her in her eyes that are narrowed in my direction."What're they doing here?" Dean asks. "They're here because of what happened to your family" She says, walking back to us. "You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walks this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes wounds get infected." She explains.
"I don't understand" Sam says. "This place is a magnet for paranormal energy" She elaborates and turns looking around the room. "It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead" Missouri says morbidly and I feel a pain in my chest. "You said there was more than one spirit" I say.
She turns to me and nods in confirmation. "There is" She says and walks back into the closet. "I just can't quite make out the second one" Missouri says and asks me. "Can you?". I struggle to answer. "I don't know. But all I know is this don't feel good at all" I say shakily. "Well one things for damn sure. Nobody's dying in this house ever again" Dean states firmly.
"So whatever is here, how do we stop it?" He asks Missouri.
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We're all now sitting downstairs in Jenny's living room and Missouri set out a bunch of stuff on the table. "So what is all this stuff anyway?" Dean asks curiously as he sits by the table. I'm sitting next to him, my chair turned backwards with me straddling it and Sam standing next to me, leaning against the table with his hands.
"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt. A few other odds and ends" She lists off, pointing at each item. "Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?" I ask. "We're gonna put them inside the walls, in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house" Missouri explains.
"We're gonna be punching holes in the drywall, Jenny's gonna love that" Dean replies with sarcasm, looking at me and Sam. "She'll live" Missouri retorts. "And this will destroy the spirits?" Sam asks. "It should. It should purify the house completely" Missouri responds with a nod.
"We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to....things are gonna get bad" She warns us.
We got Jenny to leave the house for a couple hours so we can work on the house. Missouri is outside escorting her to her car. Sam's takes upstairs, while Missouri takes the basement and Dean and I took the kitchen. Dean pulls out an axe and starts breaking the wall with it, putting the bag inside....just like my dream....if it's true then that means...
"Holy shit" I gasp. "What?" Dean asks me concerned. "You breaking the wall. I dreamt that. And I dreamt Sam getting strangled with a cord" I tell him quickly. "Duck!" I yell and pull him to the ground. The knife was flying towards us, it stabs the cupboard above us.
We grab a table, knocking it down and using it as a shield, knives stabbing through it. "You dreamt me getting stabbed too, didn't you?" He asks me and I nod quickly. "Oh shit. Sam!" I gasp, realization takes over Deans face and we bolt upstairs.
We run into the room to see Sam on the ground with the cord wrapped around his neck, gasping for breath. "Sam!" Dean exclaims, he tries to pull the cord off, grunting but it wouldn't budge. I see the bag with the stuff Missouri gave us to put in the walls next to Sam.
I take it up and kick a hole in the wall which part Sam was supposed to put and and chuck it in the hole. Suddenly a blast of white light takes over the house, temporarily blinding us. I cover my head with my arms and Dean does the same.
I rush over to Sam to see the cord has loosen. He takes a deep breath, catching his breath and we pull it out from around his neck, holding him up. I sigh in relief as I hold my best friend in my arms. Dean lets out a sigh too, holding his little brother.
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Later we're all back downstairs in the kitchen, that's in quite the mess. "You sure this is over?" I ask Missouri. "I'm sure" she says, turning to me. "Why? Why do you ask?" She questions. "Never mind. It's nothing I guess" I say and we hear the front door open and close.
I'm still a bit unsure about this whole thing, the place still feels a bit heavy but maybe I'm just being paranoid. I notice Sam seems uneasy about it too but he chooses not to say anything. The light turns on, "Hello, we're home" Jenny announces her presence, walking in with Richie on her hip and holding Saris hand.
She looks around in shock at the mess the place is in. "What happened?" She asks us worried. "Hi. Sorry uh. We'll pay for all of this" Sam apologizes and I notice Dean look at him like 'We will?'. "Don't you worry. Deans gonna clean up this mess" Missouri tells her and his eyebrows cock up at this.
"Well, what are you waiting for boy? Get the mop" She orders him in a motherly tone and he goes to walk off. "And don't cuss at me" She snaps and he turns back surprised. I hold back a snicker at his reaction as he goes to get the mop, mumbling to himself angrily. I chuckle at the interaction, my heart swelling a bit at the cute look in Deans face when he's mumbling like a child.
He's so freaking adorable. Wait. What? I think to myself. Missouri head snaps to me when I have this thought, a sly look on her face and she flashes me a wink. I look at her confused and she comes closer to me and whispers, "You'd be surprised at what he thinks of you". I cock my eyebrow in confusion and she shakes her head in amusement.
We all leave the house after cleaning up in a orderly fashion, turning back to Jenny and waving at her as we leave.
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"Alright so tell me again. What are we still doing here?" Dean asks us a bit annoyed. We're all outside of their old house in the Impala. "I don't know. I-I just uh-" I stutter on my words. "We still have a bad feeling" Sam pipes up. "Why?" Dean asks up exasperated. "Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubinstein thing. The house should be clean. This should be over" He adds turning to us.
"Yeah. Well, probably. But we just wanna make sure. That's all." I tell him and he sighs, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah, well. Problem is. I could be sleeping in a bed right now" Dean groans. I look at the window to Jenny's room, she's banging on her window and it looks like she's screaming "Help!".
I nudge Sam roughly. "Sam. Dean!" I exclaim and we all rush out of the car. "You two grab the kids. I'll get Jenny!" He tells us as we run up the porch and knock the front door down. I run into Richies room and grab him, holding him to my chest. "Help! Please!" I hear screaming from Saris room.
When I run in I see Sam standing stunned at the door, what looks like a figure of a man in bursting flames while Sari is on her bed screaming for help. Sam rushes in and I hold Richie to my chest, clutching him closely. "Come here. Come here. Don't look. Don't look" He goes in and gets Sari, picking her up on his hip and we all run downstairs.
Sam rests down Sari and I rest down Richie when we get downstairs. "Alright. Sari. Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Don't look back okay, sweetie?" I tell her gently. Suddenly something grabs me and Sam by our feet, pulling up down the hall causing Sari to scream. Grabbing her brother she runs outside where Dean and Jenny should be.
The force pulls us, dragging us across the hall and into the kitchen, knocking us into the table. The force throws us all across the room, into the fridge, into the wall, across the floor, into the counter, like we're rag dolls. Me and Sam groan in pain getting to our feet.
We hear the door getting knocked doing, assuming it's Dean we go to bolt for the door but the force grabs us again, throwing us into the wall and we grunt in pain. "God dammit!" I scream, trying to pull out of the force as Sam does the same but fails while screaming.
The door finally breaks and we hear Dean yell, "SAM! Y/N!". But the flaming figure that we saw in Sari's room earlier appears again in front of us, making its way slowly to us. Our faces contort in pure fear. I look at the figure properly, my heart beating out of its chest when it comes into view clearly.
It was familiar...too familiar. A face I only saw in old pictures. "What the fuck?" Sam whispers stunned. "No fucking way" I breath out in shock. "Sam? Y/N?" We hear Deans footsteps and voice in the house. When he walks into room and aims his gun at the figure, ready to shoot.
"No! Don't! Don't!" Me and Sam yell for him to stop. "What? Why?!" Dean yells back in confusion. "Because we know who it is" Sam says. "We can see her now" I say and the figure diminishes the fire to reveal...Mary. Sam and Deans mom. Dean lowers his gun in shock, fear, confusion. "Mom?" Dean says softly. Mary takes a few steps closer to him with a small smile on her face.
"Dean" She says sweetly and tears well up in Deans eyes. She then walks over to Sam who has breathing is rugged but smiles tearfully looking at his mother. "Sam" She says softly and then turns to me, the smile growing wider on her face. "Y/N" She says nicely, tears welling up in her eyes when she turns back to Sam.
"I'm sorry" She says apologetically to him, tears streaming down both our faces. "For what?" Sam asks tearfully and she doesn't answer, she just has this look of guilt on her face. She then turns and looks up to where Sams nursery was. "You get out of my house. And let go on my son and his best friend" She demanding tone.
Right after she says this, flames engulf her own body and the burst of flames fly up to the ceiling. The boys and I try to turn our heads away but we're too stunned by what's happening. After that, the force that was pinning us to the wall falters and we're free.
The weight on my chest that I felt earlier was suddenly gone. The brooding darkness that was there, erased. We look around, gasping for breath. "Mom?" Dean whispers, looking around. Sam and I walk forwards from against the wall, "Now it's over" I say to the boys nodding.
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The next day after the events in their old house, the boys and I are outside by the Impala and Jenny hands Dean some of the old pictures she found of their family. There's one with a young John and Mary, one with my parents when they were young, another with all of our parents, one with a four year old Dean holding 6 month old Sam and another with Dean holding a 6 month old me.
Dean smiles at the photo and looks at Jenny, "Thanks for these" He says gratefully. "Don't thank me, they're yours" She responds with a smile. He hands me the picture and I put it in a box with their old stuff, I walk back up to the steps by the front door where Sam is sitting and I take a seat next to him, leaving Jenny and Dean to talk.
"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore" Missouri tells us as she exits the front door. "This time for sure" She assures us confidently, taking a seat next to me. "Not even my mom?" Sam asks. "No" Missouri says softly, shaking her head and Sam nods. "What happened?" I ask her.
"Mary's spirt and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out" She explains to us and then looks at Sam. "Your mom destroyed herself going after the thing" Missouri says sadly. "Why would she do something like that?" Sam asks tearfully. "Well to protect her boys and their best friend, of course" She assures us and we nod with tears in our eyes.
"Sam...Y/N, I'm sorry" She apologizes. "For what?" Sam asks a bit confused. "You two sensed it here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't" She tells us. "What's happening to us?" Sam asks. "I know I should have all the answers but....I don't know" Missouri says honestly. "Am I psychic like my mom?" I ask her shakily.
"It's possible. Very possible. Even if you don't want the gift, it's yours to bear. Only time will tell" She says softly, I drop my head nodding."Sam, Y/N. You guys ready?" We hear Dean call out to us. We get up and walk towards the Impala. "Thanks Sam and Y/N" Jenny thanks us and we give her a nod.
"Don't you kids be strangers" Missouri calls out to us. I turn to her with a small smile on my face. "We won't" Dean says smiling back at her. "See you around" She says and Jenny gives us a small wave. We hop into Baby, Sam in shotgun and me in the back, Dean starts the ignition and we're off.
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Third Person POV
Missouri enters her shop, closing the door behind her. She feels presences in her home, resting her bag down she sighs. "That boy and that girl. I mean, they have such powerful abilities. Why they couldn't sense their own fathers, I have no idea" She says, turning around in the seats where Sam, Dean and Y/N were earlier is John Winchester and F/N L/N in their place.
John takes his face out of his hands and looks at Missouri. "Mary's spirit? Do you really think she saved the kids?" John asks her, clasping his hands infront of him. "I do" Missouri confirms and John looks down at his wedding band tearfully.
"And M/N's spirit. Was she there at all?" F/N asks a bit hopefully but Missouri shakes her head. "I can assure you, she's resting peacefully. I've made note of that" She assures him, tears in her eyes thinking of her deceased friend. "John Winchester and F/N L/N I could just slap you two. Why don't you two go talk to your children?!" She angrily shouts at the grown men.
"We want to" F/N says shaking his head, John still looking down at his wedding band tearfully. "You have no idea how much we wanna see them. But we can't" John says, looking up. "I just want to see my little girl, and give her a hug. But not yet" F/N says, holding back tears. They both look over at Missouri.
"Not until we know the truth" John says, determined.
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Authors Note: This chapter is unedited so please excuse any mistake, I will be editing it when I get a chance. I hope whoever is reading enjoys!! I really do pray you guys love Y/N's character because bits and pieces of her personality come from me. I'm having so much fun writing this so don't be ghost readersss so please comment and tell me your thoughts and opinions.
Next chapter is out in a couple days so be sure to look out for that.
Xoxo.
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Lyrics: Nothing fucks with my baby/Nothing can get a look in on my baby (NFWMB -Hozier)
Character: August Walker (maybe he’s mean but over protective)
Take Care of You
Warnings: needles, self-doubt, illness, and some possible unmentioned triggers.
Character: August Walker
Summary: You try to feel better with the help of your new boyfriend.
I hope I didn't go too far out to the left with his.
As always, I appreciate all kinds of feedback. A like and reblog means so much to me! <3
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“Make sure you finish your tea, honey,” his deep voice rumbles through you, the heat between your palms seeping through the prevalent chill. “It’ll make you feel better.”
You groan and sink back into the pillows, cradling the porcelain as the steam wafts up your nose. You rest it daintily above your chest. “I don’t feel like I’ll ever be better, Auggy,” you moan, “every day, I just feel worse and worse.”
He gives a tight-lipped smile, bittersweet even. He brings his fingers up to tickle the hair above his lip. Your ears pulse and your bones ache. You’ve never felt this sort of fatigue. You’re exhausted yet all you do is sleep.
“You will, I know you will,” he sits on the edge of the bed, “but we gotta listen to the professionals, right? Dr. Kemp knows what he’s talking about, okay?”
“I’m so lucky,” you cough and your head lolls as you wet your dry tongue, “so lucky to have you here…” you lift your head and raise the mug shakily. You blow across the tea before sipping it. It’s stringent but soothing.
“Of course,” he takes the script from the night table. You remember Dr. Kemp, handsome with  a swoop in his hair. “I’m lucky to be here for you, you know that.”
“N-nooo,” you shake your head weakly, “no, I… I hate to think you’re missing work for me.”
“Doctor’s orders, can’t leave you alone.”
You take another drink and stare into the orange depth. He rubs your leg and slowly retracts his hand to touch the bottom of your mug, “here, we should put this down. Just until you have your medicine.”
“Oh,” you let him take the cup but can’t hide your anxiety, “do I have to? Can’t I just have some more tylenol?”
“It’s not helping, kitten. You have to do this.”
You cringe and give a quick peak to the wrapped syringe. Oh, you hate needles. You pout and stifle a sob.
“It’s just a small prick,” he assures you as he grabs the vial.
“No, it’s not that,” you recline again, deflated, “I’m so tired of this. Of being sick. I just feel so helpless.” Your head drifts to the side, “I feel like a burden. Auggy, it’s barely three months and you’re already taking care of my like some… some old lady.”
“Shhh,” he hushes you softly, “it’s okay. You’re going to get better. You have to,” he peels away the wrapper from the syringe, “because I’m gonna take you on the best date of your life. Just like I promised.”
“Heh,” you force out a weak laugh, “you better…”
You watch him draw from the vial with the long tip of the needle. He pulls it out and you meet his gaze. You give a nervous grimace.
“What is your perfect date?” He asks, “tell me everything you ever dreamt of.”
He rests his hand on your arm and rubs it. You know he’s distracting you. You need that. You take the bait.
“Hmm, well, flowers. I love flowers. Sunflowers are nice but I guess roses are more romantic…” you look up as you think. He caresses your forearm. He’s so nice, so supportive, and it feels so unreal. You feel like you barely know him but he always knows exactly what you need.
He hums as he listens; the ferris wheel piques his attention as he tilts his head. As you weigh the option of a boat ride out load, you feel a prick and give a yipe. He quickly presses his thumb to your arm and removes the needle tip. You look down and whimper.
“All done, wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“No,” you answer as you wiggle your fingers.
“See, I told you. You got this,” he looks you in the face as he sets the needle aside. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. “Finish your tea.”
He stands up and gathers up the mess, capping the needle with the plastic sheath before crunching up the wrappers. You look away. You’re so pathetic. He has to do everything. You just can’t get used to that. You weren’t like this before. You never got sick. Ever.
Not until you met him.
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Fluff and gay rarepair are currently drawing. So I tried to write the fluff, with the idea I could finish it, watch some videos, then maybe crack at gay after stuff ends. I think this isn't actually fluff, but /I/ think its cute, and its soft, even if it is a bit hurt/comfort for what I meant by fluff.
Philza finds Missa asleep in the ram pen.
Philza wakes up, and he isn't sure what is wrong. His eggs are asleep, the doors are all locked, and dawn is still far away. Still, he swears he heard something. It's not from above - people still use his warp and garden too often to be bothered by noise from above - and that settles dread into Philza's spine.
He slips out of bed, bothering with shoes and scythe but not changing out of his pyjamas, and stats looking. It's probably a water pipe, he tells himself; he will not settle until he checks.
Chayanne's room and the kitchen are checked first, but nothing unusual is in either. Philza puts the plates from the night before away, then keeps looking.
Tallulah's garden is, too, empty of oddities.
Philza is about the chalk it up to nothing, when he remembers the aquarium beneath his feet. Instantly annoyed he breaks a piece of the floor, and drops down.
He fixes up the hole - he can just warp out after all - and looks around. The change isn't immediately apparent, but after he checks behind the animal pen… his heart breaks.
"Missa?" He whispers at the man - his husband - asleep among the animals. "Why are you sleeping down here?"
Missa sleeps on, oblivious to the question. Philza looks, and hesitates, then sees the ram try nibble Missa's hood and makes his descision.
He can hate him in the morning if he's wrong.
Carefully, he reaches down. One arm goes behind Missa's back, and the other tucks under his legs. His husband stirs with a quiet groan, and Philza gently hushes him.
"Go back to sleep," he whispers. "I'm just bringing you to bed."
His words have the opposite effect; Missa eyes slowly blink open, head turning to find him. "Phil…?"
"Hi Missa," he abandons his plan, and kneels next to the setee instead. "What were you sleeping down here for? Our bed is upstairs, silly."
Missa blinks at him, tears welling up. Philza reaches out and smooths then away, brushing Missa's hair from his eyes too.
"What are the tears for? My face isn't that bad, surely?"
"No," Missa whispers, and then his voice picks up. "No, no, no, its a good face! A very good face."
"Then why are you crying, king?"
Missa shakes his head; Philza reaches out, offering a hug. The shaking and tears both get harder.
"Missa?" Philza is worried now, genuinely worried. "Missa, what's wrong?"
"I don't deserve it," Missa sobs - in Spanish now, and Philza glances to his translator for support. "I don't deserve you, I'm a bad husband, I'm a worse dad, please, I'm so sorry-"
"Shhh," Philza continues to brush his hair. "You're not, you're not. You have to travel for work, that's all - plenty of parents have to. I don't blame you. Chayanne adores you. You're a good husband, I promise, there's no one I'd rather raise my eggs with."
"But-"
Philza waits, but Missa does not continue, just sobbing into a ball.
"I should have thought and asked Roier to keep up Chayanne's Spanish once your trip back was delayed," Philza says. "These things just happen with kids, it's not your fault, he's not hurt, he's safe and he's happy."
"Philza," Missa sobs. "Philza! Stop it! I… I know I did bad, you shouldn't comfort the terrible."
It's maybe too late, too emotional, too tired for that conversation. Philza instead reaches over, pulling Missa into a hug. It hurts, it hurts to see what words have done to his dear egg-partner. "You're not terrible," he promises. "You're not, you're not - come upstairs with me; some sleep will make things better."
The sobbing lasts a bit longer, before with a sniffle Missa manages to stutter out "really?"
"Really," Philza replies. "I want you in my bed, and the eggs want you with them. We've been waiting for you."
"For me?"
"For you."
Philza leans forwards, tapping his forehead to Missa's mask. There's another hiccupping sob and then Missa throws himself into Philza's arms more fully.
He is of course caught, and held as he cries.
"You're so good, king," Philza promises. "Phil e Missa, Phil e Missa - its still our house; I built it for you."
There is no answer, but eventually Missa's tears slow. Philza backs slightly away, just enough to grab a tissue and let Missa dry his eyes.
"… You mean it?" Missa asks.
Philza does his very best not to laugh, and nearly succeeds, "yes, king, I do. We want you here, I promise."
Despite the tearstains, Missa's face lights up in a hesitant but true smile. Philza sniles back, pressing a thumb to Missa's cheek and touching their foreheads again.
"So… will you come to bed?" He asks.
"Okay," Missa whisoers. "Okay, I- I-"
"Will get some sleep, and in the morning Chayanne and I will make you breakfast, and we're going to spoil you for a little while, okay?"
"I- I don't need that, just a bed, just a bed somewhere close to you!"
"Well, we have a double upstairs, and its a shame not to use it," he presses Missa's hand to the warpstone. "You remember where to go?"
Missa pulls out his warpstone, and allows it to pull him back atop the wall. Philxa follows a second later.
Above the door, the sign Missa wrote still hangs. Philza looks at it, then turns to see Missa doing the same.
"I missed you too," he finally replies to the message.
Missa whimpers, but smiles, "I missed you more."
"Bet?" Philza asks, even as he pulls him inside.
There's barely space in their house, a tiny place made for an egg and repurposed for his parents. The double bed is squashed tightly between the walls, and they both have to scramble to get onto it. By the time they are under the covers the pair are already a mess of limbs, one that only grows messier as Missa hesitantly gestures for a hug and Philza willingly provides.
/I love you/ Philza thinks, but cannot bring himself to say - not when the love he offers isn't the sort people ever want. /You are home and my home, you are family, you are mine; I love you./
Missa doesn't say anything either, having never entirely woken up; as soon as his head touches the pillow, he is asleep again.
"Goodnight," Philza says instead.
Then he huddles himself closer, and feels the warmth of his husband, and knows that shit though the island might be, here intertwinned is the best place he's ever been.
---
In the morning, Tallulah wakes up. Papi is no longer in his bed - she grabs Chayanne, shaking him hard. He wakes with a groan, and panics just the same. Together they search, getting more and more worried.
They're about to go get Tio Tubbo to help find him, when Chayanne remembers the house upstairs. They scurry up and across the ladder, and find the blinds closed for once.
They open the door and peer inside, and Chayanne jumps for joy as he sees both his dads inside. He runs and jumps up on the bed, a sleepy Missa grabbing him with one arm and pulling him close before turning back to sleep. Tallulah approaches more gently, scrambling quietly up. Still Philza's arms find her when she wiggles herself beneath the blanket.
Their dad - their dads - are here. It's later than normal, but they snuggle back in and return to sleep in the morning light.
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railmerosalie · 4 months
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Okay let's get something straight, i wrote this during a 10 hour car ride. Not proof read we die like tributes. @mystargirl-interlude i hope this isn't too shit my dear.
Peeta is mostly a soft dom y'all, I will die on this hill. Now we all know he's a smooth talker and my god does that extend to the bedroom. "Shhh pretty girl, keep your eyes on me" , "just like that angel, you feel so good". This man will praise anything you do, sometimes he will just babble out words like 's-so good' even if he's doing all the work. Would 1000% stroke your cheek with his thumb while moaning in your ear. Has a thing for hair pulling, either yours or his own, he doesn't care. Speaking of hair, he would softly brush yours out and braid it during aftercare, you don't ask him too, he just wants too :)
Holds your hands while ramming into you while in missionary. Wants you to mark him, to have good memories associated with his scars. While this man is a soft dom he will put you in your place, however, he hates the idea of hurting you/causing you pain. He would hold your arms around your back in a soft grip while rocking into you slowly, "hmmmm, what happened to my good girl?". You could try and struggle against him, to make him move faster, but good luck, he'll maneuver you as easily as a sack of flour.
Eye contact !!! Loves seeing your pupils dilate when he hits that certain spot. He also finds it reassuring, it keeps him grounded. Now dont get me wrong, he lovvves getting his dick sucked, but there's something about eating you out that really gets him going. I think it's despite being a baker, he's never tasted something as sweet and addicting as you. He's a pussy pleaser idk what else to say 🤷🏻‍♀️.
He loves drawing you naked. You guys would be relaxing in a field, you reading while he scribbles away. At first you think he's drawing the wild flowers you're sitting in, peaking over to see that he's drawn your torso, tits and neck with one hand wrapped around your waist and the other at the base of your throat. Despite the dirty image he somehow makes you look angelic. If he gets up before you he'll leave them on the kitchen table along with a fresh pastry from that morning's batch, and a note telling you how beautiful you are <3
He LOVES manhandling you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder or carrying you bridal style while hugging you to his chest. Will hold up your entire bodyweight while jack hammering into you. Speaking of manhandling, he would hold your writhing body against his as he fingers you.
His chest is super sensitive, something as simple as softly dragging your nails across his skin would make him moan. If you licked his nipples he would start to whimper, now pair that with covering him in hickeys and a handjob, he would cum soo fast. If you were to smack his ass in a causal show of dominance he would blush. Oh and he likes holding your tits, no matter how big or small they are (they're just soo warm) either his hands or face always seem to find them.
His prosthetic leg gives him more trouble than he lets on. So for the love of Christ make the poor boy comfortable and take it off while riding him. It means he can focus just on you without the pinching on his thigh.
Okay i need sleep
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everlastingdreams · 4 months
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The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 36
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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?
Chapter Title: Et Nos Cedamus Amori
Notes: This is spicy, I believe 🌶️
Special warnings: Scent-Kink. Foreplay. Unprotected sex. Consensual. Strong language.
Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. !!!!Spicy and smut!!!! parts. Slight redemption arc.
Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…
Word count of this fic: +220K
Chapter:  36/41
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Thank the Hidden he was still holding on, because you felt a little unstable on your feet after hearing that.
Your eyes locked on his, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel rushed or-”
With a kiss he silenced the doubt and took his time to feel the softness of your lips. He parted from them only to speak, “I am certain.” His thumb graced over your bottom lip, “Will you have me?”
He was offering himself, body and soul, yours to have and keep. Surrendering his very being to love instead of war.
You gently cupped his face whilst nodding. “With all my heart.”
It was impossible to ignore how you felt him tremble, or maybe it were your own hands that did.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” It was something you hated to admit.
“Shhh…” He hushed, as if he was calming a frightened animal before it would run off.
He reclaimed your lips, gifting a searing kiss upon them. All the fears you’d felt regarding a coupling faded to the background the longer the kiss continued, as if he somehow took them away. Sometimes you even felt the markings under his skin threaten to rise to the surface, but they never did, they were merely responding to feeling the pads of your fingers on his neck.
The cold steel of the vambraces chilled your skin when he slid his hand under the hem of your shirt as much as the bodice allowed for it. To be restrained in the leather was bothering you, there was no need for it’s protection now.
You broke away from him and took a few steps back, mumbling more to yourself, “I’m taking this damned thing off…”
He looked somewhat lost, until you started to undo the cords at the front of the bodice. The cords could be a pain to undo, especially if you felt rushed or nervous. Taking a few steps away from him was better than accidentally elbowing him in the chest or arm whilst focusing on the task.
Your hands stopped trembling after a few seconds and you felt more comfortable to let him near again. By sending him your most sweetest shy smile, you hoped to draw him in closer.
The Ash Man appeared indecisive, but certainly intrigued. He cast his eyes to the side, forbidding them to watch, when the temptation became too strong he pressed them shut for a moment.
It had to be overwhelming for him to see you begin to undress. You proceeded slowly, giving him the time he needed to adjust. By the time you had finished unlacing the bodice, his eyes were open again.
You held the leather in your hands, “Do you want me to stop what I’m doing?”
Those weeping eyes fell on your face, then on the bodice, his mouth opened but not a sound came out.
He shut his eyes briefly again, to collect his thoughts, “Do you… want to stop?”
It had sounded like he was asking about the weather, it must have taken quite some effort for it to sound so normal.
You saw the tinting present itself on his cheeks. “I feel safe enough with you to continue.”
His eyes opened, and he drew an audible shaky breath through his nose. Even though he did not come closer, anyone could see that he wanted to. You slowly crossed the small distance and put the bodice in his hands.
The leather was still warm…
He could not help himself, it was as if instinct took over when he lifted it to his nose to pick up your Fey scent it carried.
Your heart’s pace increased upon seeing the change in him, the instinct of the Ash Folk presented itself before your very eyes. He lowered the bodice, his jaw tensed at the sensation it had awoken.
For the tiniest moment, you felt like prey that had just given a wolf the invite to eat them. The urge to take a step back was strong under the darkening of his eyes that the scent had caused, but you forced your feet to stay where they were.
With a couple of quick silent breaths, he calmed himself down, clearing his mind as best as he could. The feeling that had settled in him however was there to stay.
With shaking hands, but determination, you touched the leather straps that held his cloak secured. He read your eyes, and let the bodice find company with the floor, freeing his hands to aid you in taking the cloak off.
A life of constricting layered clothes had never bothered him as much as it did now. Still, he found comfort in your patient pace.
His cloak was on him in a different way than you were used to, it did not close at the neck, the straps crossed at his chest to keep it in place.
One arm freed, then the next. You took the cloak by the hood, careful not to have it get caught in his hair, and moved it back until it fell into a puddle around his boots.
After a moment of silently facing each other, the evidence of how nervous you both were was plain to see. Both planning ahead and deducing what would come next. By taking his hand, you drew him closer, he followed your lead with blind faith.
“May I?” You inquired, while touching the belts that held the weapons at his side.
There was a small arch to his brow, he breathed out the answer, “You may.”
Leather was pulled through metal, it dawned on you how heavy the belts were to hold all the steel in place. In fear of waking up half the fort, you bend down to put the belts on the floor quietly.
Your next target was the belts that kept his jerkin closed. His hands moved a bit clumsily before they began to help you with them too. It seemed that any skills your hands or his possessed was lost in that moment. The belts proved an obstacle that needed, not one, but two nervous people to get past. A quiet silly laugh escaped you at the fidgeting. Whilst both your hands did the work, your lips got engaged again and he smiled against them. It felt like a victory when those belts were finally open. He took over, taking the jerkin off and letting it fall on top of the bodice.
A look was shared, then as if he had read your mind, the both of you began to undo the vambraces. His experience with them was clear, he knew exactly how to take them off in a short matter of time.
You were still trying to figure out how to undo the one on his right, they were indeed beautifully crafted. His fingers came to help and plucked at the fine leather cords that held it together.
You often caught him looking at you, to see if you were still alright. Nervous? Yes. But alright.
It wasn’t long before you had both the vambraces in your hands, and you placed them on the small bedside table with the respect such craftsmanship deserved. You never stopped feeling his eyes follow, not once. They fell upon your face as you stood before him again.
With a little tug at the front of his shirt, you let your intentions be known. Your fingers hooked under the hem of it and began to lift it up. When it was halfway up his torso, he freed himself of it by pulling it over his head swiftly. It was evident how quick his breathing was now that the shirt could no longer hide it, he seemed to be a little tense as well and quite alert.
By brushing your lips against his chest, you hoped to calm his nerves, you trailed them up to his neck. When reaching his collarbone he stroked over your neck in appreciation, then took a light hold on your throat, holding you still so he could give your neck the same treatment.
He preferred the spot just under your ear, one of the places where your scent was the strongest. It would be a lie to say that he didn’t taste the scent of your skin just a little with his tongue.
One sound from you and he brought his mouth to yours again. You placed a hand on his chest to make him halt. Once he did, you gestured to your shirt. By getting close and turning around, you hoped he would not see the hint of self-consciousness in your eyes. Your back was almost against him, while slowly taking off your shirt. It felt more comfortable to not having to be in his full view bare like this. You held on to the shirt for a moment, he held your upper arm softly in encouragement…
After propping the shirt into a ball, you tossed it on the foot of your bed. There was nothing to hide behind now, only your arms.
He had seen your bare back before, on the night you had escaped the paladin camp together. He trailed his index finger right next to a scar that the whip had left on your back, and leaned in to kiss the back of your head.
“The wounds on your back from the lashes have healed well.” He quietly mumbled the thought that escaped his mind. They never should have been there in the first place…
You felt him trace them, they no longer hurt but they were oddly sensitive still.
“I am sorry.”
“I have forgiven you.”
He kissed the back of your head again, then the side. His fingers hooked under the waistband of your trousers and slowly pulled until your rear was against him. Your face burned when feeling him hard against your behind.
An arm came around to hold you close. His mouth latched onto your neck again and send your mind into a spin. You teasingly bumped into him when his fingers tickled at your waist. He grunted at the pleasant pressure it caused, and his hand skimmed down to your rear.
He was very careful to touch it, he had not forgotten that the last person who had done so had ended up with their nose broken. Thankfully, your response to him was much more pleasant.
The hunger in him was present in the way he lavishly moved his mouth over your neck. It was perhaps the first time he had touched your rear on purpose, you did react surprised and jolted a bit, but then surrendered when hearing how content he sounded to be allowed to do it. The sound of his breathing, that deep humming…
All of it because he wanted you so much. It had an effect on your body…
“I believe I am stirring something in your loins.” The cocky twit’s senses were on point.
It had been something you had said to him once to get on his nerves, how could you have known back then that you would fall for him? Or that he would be able to pick up on such a thing?
You turned into his arms, still hiding behind your own, and rolled your eyes a little, “Are you gonna bring that up for the rest of our lives?”
He had a sudden hold on your waist and made you walk backwards until you were
against the wall next to an old painting. You were still trying to hide your bare self behind your arms, he noticed but did not comment on it.
“I should. For I want you to know that I can sense your needs, and I shall tend to them.” He made the vow.
And you were oh so clearly in need tonight. Even if he had not been focusing to pick up on the change in scent, he still would have noticed. Tonight his heritage was a blessing.
You didn’t know where to look and cast your eyes to the floor. Your witty mouth had abandoned you, the only thing left was the building shyness that threatened to silence you.
“You’re very bold for a former monk.” You fired.
He smirked at the return of the fire in you. “You are usually not this shy.”
You would have smacked his arm if you didn’t need your own to stay where they were. “I’m bare in front of you!”
His smirk changed a bit as his gaze went a little lower, a slight involuntary quirk in his brow. Not completely. Not yet…
You needed no magic to know what he was thinking, that look said it all.
With the knuckle of his index finger he stroked along your jaw to your chin. “And you are beautiful.”
Hearing it healed some of the pain inside that rejection had caused. You bit your lip, feeling your eyes get a bit watery but refusing to let the tears go. “So are you.”
He cupped your cheek, running his thumb up and down over it as he leaned in to put his lips to yours. With nerves wrapping your stomach into a knot, you moved your arms and brought him closer, until his chest was against yours. Mouths slid together, teeth over lips over tongues, slow and intimately. Your fingers trailed over his arms and chest, sometimes you could feel him shiver because of it.
The hand at your waist moved to your abdomen, where it slowly went higher until it cupped a breast. He did it with so much caution, as if he feared you’d push him off otherwise. You dared to bite down on his lower lip, never hard enough to draw blood, just enough to remind him who he was with. The sound he let out did not make it seem like he disliked it, quite the contrary. Gingerly he dragged his hand down your front again, to the waistband of your trousers.
“May I?” His question was a breath on your lips.
You gave a quick nod. “Please.”
As his mouth slowly traveled to the bottom of your jaw, his hand sank into your trousers. With the use of his index and middle finger he massaged the ache between your legs.
Being against the wall now was a blessing, for your body felt like floating away the longer he worked on it. It was tentatively slow, he took his time to figure out what sort of touch you preferred. The patience and devotion he displayed towards your pleasure greatly helped to calm your nerves.
Just like in the forest, he could feel the arousal on his fingers. He would see to it that you would not go to sleep unsated.
“You’re really… good at that.” You meant it.
At hearing the praise, he kissed your temple and smiled against it. “It is a very rewarding practice.”
That cheeky…
It did make you chuckle, but it turned into a moan when he got just the right angle. The bastard even hushed you, you shot him a glare, he grinned back. Of course he did not prevent it from happening again, he was the one still causing it. You held on to his arm as that pleasant feeling build inside again.
“Will you let me feel you?” The question tumbled out of him.
It was confusing, he was doing so already. You barely got the question out without it turning into a moan, “Feel?”
His hot breath was on the shell of your ear. “Inside.”
Your answer took a couple of seconds to come, “Yes.”
He stroked you some more before doing so, coating his fingers in the wetness. If he were to bed you, he wished to know if it would hurt you or not. He would not be comfortable bringing himself inside if he didn’t know you could take him. If he could already please you this way, it would take away some of the anxiousness he felt towards copulation.
The tip of his finger announced itself and you grabbed a hold on his shoulder, putting your head against it. This could hurt, books and talk had warned you of it. But the curiosity was stronger than fear, and the thought of him trying to make you come undone was highly arousing. Your hips still wanted to rock into his hand, seeking the friction you now missed. He generously used his thumb to aid in your search. With care, his index finger slid inside easier than expected. He still went achingly slow, and there was a slight burning sensation that got better every time his thumb began to tease. He let your hips control how deep he went, feeling you rock into him carefully.
His trousers had become tight on him, of course he imagined what it would be like. To have you, to hear you moan into his ears…
The pace was slow, even when he started to slide it in and out. Biting your lip was the only way to keep yourself quiet against his shoulder.
“Tell me how it feels.” His voice shook.
You doubted that you could.
“Good.” You croaked out. “Please…”
He increased the pace only a little, and felt your hips match it eagerly. You tried to undo the knot in your trousers, but it was difficult like this. He noticed and began to help free you off them, whilst continuing his task. They glided down your legs once the knot was loose.
Bare and vulnerable before him, a display of your trust, it was enough to bring him to his knees. But it was the arousing scent that clouded all his senses.
He withdrew his digit carefully and left a hollow feeling behind.
Your breathing was quick, and your mind was spinning. “Why-”
He hushed you and sank to his knees to the ground.
“What are you doing?” You reached down for him, a little alarmed, but mostly confused.
His fingers trailed over the scar of the wolf’s bite at your ankle. He trembled at feeling the warmth of your legs under his palms. “Kissing you.”
The confusion went away when he began, and you experienced exactly how strong one of the Ash Folk could be affected by scents. He kissed your thighs first, dragging his mouth to where the scent lured him to.
Moaning was risky, but that was exactly what happened within seconds of him using his mouth. With a hand on his shoulder, you tried to keep yourself from collapsing at the pleasure it gave. He had once mentioned that he would taste you too, but for it to mean this… to feel like this…
It was done so patient and lovingly, that any shame simply vanished.
He could feel the quiver in your legs and hear the quiet whimpers of pleasure, it was the first time he was on his knees and his silent prayers were heard. Sometimes he could feel you try to close your legs, all while still moving your hips more into him, in return he used his tongue to remind you why keeping them open was worthwhile.
After a while his face emerged and he let his thumb circle over you, gingerly sinking his digit inside again. He massaged, stroked and curled it inside. Leaving you to pray that you could stop yourself from making too much noise.
It brought you to the brink of despair, making your thoughts slip out in a whisper, “Gods… why don’t you just fuck me…”
Many crude things had come from you, but none like this.
He was on his feet instantly and pressed you against the wall with his body, “What was that?”
Oh no…
“I’m sorry.” You quietly said, not wanting to upset him, or make him think this wasn’t enough.
He looked genuinely stunned, perhaps even a little bothered by the profanity he was taught never to use. “That was the most inappropriate thing you have ever said to me. And you have said many.”
You felt like shrinking. “I’m sorry-”
He stopped you from apologizing over it again, “Did you mean it?”
There was only curiosity in his eyes now, it took you a few seconds to be brave enough to nod.
His eyes took you in for a moment, that disheveled state…
His hand sneaked between your thighs and he reinserted his digit, watching your expression in response to it, a gasp forced it’s way out of you.
He still worried. “I am more than what you feel now.”
You were clinging to his arms when it curled just right. “I know.”
As he seemed to decide, his thumb worked you further, it worked too well.
Your hand wrapped around his wrist suddenly, his eyes went to yours and saw how close your release was getting. If you wanted him to find the confidence to do this, you realized you would need to guide him a bit. If one was brave, the other would follow. From his wrist, your hand glided down to lace your fingers through his.
“Come.” You said, stepping out of your trousers that still hung at your ankles, and even when feeling quite exposed you walked into the direction of the bed with him.
The sight of the bed threatened to cause some fear, instead you turned and put your attention on him to remind yourself what you could have if you were brave.
“I feel very exposed.” Your smile was shy. “If you don’t want this, I’ll understand, and just put my clothes back on. But you need to tell me what you want.”
For a second he looked down at the clothes scattered around your room. You let him have the time to decide, feeling the temperature in the room chill your skin. Then his gaze rolled over you, slow and memorizing. There was a slight tilt of his head to the side, a sign his interest was piqued. You crossed your arms over your chest, bothered by the cold.
He brushed his warm hand over the goosebumps that had formed on them. “I want you.”
You could barely hide how nervous you were to ask, on of the many questions in mind managed to escape, “How?”
That answer came much faster. “On the bed.”
The sheets were no longer warm from earlier as you sat down on the bed, you tried to stop shivering to no avail. You reached for the only warm thing in sight. Him.
He sat down beside you to remove his boots, you watched him in silence, the nervousness was radiating from him, and you let him take off the boots at his own pace. Once they were off, he stood up again and turned to face you. He took a deep breath and began to undo the knot that kept his trousers secured, he moved very slow, like he feared you’d flee otherwise.
You locked up into a pair of self-conscious eyes, and gave him an encouraging smirk. “Don’t be afraid, Ash Man.”
Even he, a fearsome swordsman, had insecurities. Your eyes remained locked on his as he took the trousers off and kicked them to the side a bit. From then on, it felt like he was curious to see how long before your gaze would drop.
You forced your gaze to the ceiling for a second, feeling the smile tug at your lips. He stepped closer and by reflex your gaze dropped while scooting backwards on the bed. Your guilty eyes lifted to his face, he was reading your expression.
“Oh…” It was all you could think of to say.
He gave a curious look.
“I’ve just never really seen… you know… not like this…” You smiled sheepishly.
He was understanding, even a blind man could see how flustered you were getting. His knee came to rest on the bed, and in one smooth movement he caused you to lay down and was hovering above you. His hands were planted at each side of you, to be bare now you felt more vulnerable than ever before.
“Nervous?” He asked genuinely.
“No. I’m used to this.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm.
He flashed a grin and let his mouth rain down on yours again. The longer he kissed you, the more he lowered himself. The cold was gone and replaced with a heat that spread through you, you lifted your knee to rest it against him. You felt him warm and hard against your inner thigh, and carefully brought your hand down to touch him. He let out a delicious grunt the second you did, heavens he was hard. Seeing the blue darken in his eyes made the ache return in your loins. As you stroked him, his tongue entered your mouth. He grabbed your rear and gave it a squeeze, causing you to jolt, but his mouth prevented any curses aimed at him from spilling out of you.
When he squeezed again, you moaned into his mouth. To not admit defeat, your grip on him tightened just a little and his hips jerked forward into the touch. His teeth grazed your jaw up to your ear, by moving his knee against the inside of your own and then under it, he proved how easily he could make your legs open wider for him. Your legs could not close like this, he had slid his knee under your thigh. It was a vulnerable position to be in, still it did nothing but arouse further. He had you right how he wanted you. Under him, groin to groin, chest to chest.
He plucked your hand from his cock and leaned back just enough to see your eyes clearly in the dark. You read the question in his own, and nodded while cupping his neck. He moved himself against your groin first, grinding into you somewhat. You held on to his arms and lifted your hips into him more.
The confidence had grown in him, he stroked himself twice before aligning. Your body got very still as he pressed his lips to your temple, and himself inside.
It did burn a bit to be stretched, your body fought your mind. He moved slowly, gripping the sheets between his fingers.
You winced when he was almost completely inside, and he halted immediately.
He saw the tear brim at the corner of your eye. “I will retreat-”
“Stay.” You grabbed his hip, not wanting to back down now that it’s gotten this far.
“I’m hurting you.” He stated what he could see.
“Please.” You pleaded with him, and told him what had been taught to you. “It’s normal for it to hurt a bit. It will pass.”
He looked so guilt-ridden, and seconds away of ending this amorous encounter.
You brushed a hand over his hip. “I can do this. I want this.”
After a moment of thought, he gave a shallow nod. “Tell me when it is too much.”
“I will.” You promised.
Before he would dare to continue, he began to kiss your neck and throat, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin just right. You melted into the affections like butter, tracing the scars on his back with your fingertips as if you were playing a harp. He moved after a while, a slight movement of his hips that made him slide in and out just a little.
It felt odd at first, he’d wait a couple of seconds to do so again. He repeated this pattern until you began to crave the movements to come. With an impatient lift of your hips, you signaled that you preferred not to wait so long again.
His hips rolled into yours, into a slow but constant rhythm. Gasps for air and quiet moaning filled the room. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he reclaimed your mouth. His groans and moaning were both desperate and relieved. He was vocal, and worked to bring the sounds out of you as well. The burning had stopped, your hips met the pace of his with eagerness.
Only then did he try to thrust deeper, and saw that you took him well.
With grinding slow thrusts he caused the tension to build into your core. He made you expose your throat more as his mouth slid over the length of it up to your chin.
His teeth grazed the shell of your ear, his voice went down to a breathy husk, “Moan for me.”
The request was easy enough to indulge, the pace of his thrusts began to increase. You cupped his neck with both hands, his hot breath was right over your mouth. Your thumb dragged his bottom lip down before your mouth closed around it.
His release was nearing, the heat of you mixed with the sight of you was making it far too simple to come undone.
He kissed back with a fiery passion, and brought his hand down between your legs to help. You knew he was close, he had begun to tremble all over and his breathing had deepened greatly. The sight of him made the knot in your core tighten severely.
“Lancelot…” You kept your eyes on his face, panting against his lips.
The rhythm of his fingers matched the ones of his hips. The pressure that had build snapped loose inside you with one well timed thrust. Your nails dug into his arms as jolts of pleasure ran through you. He was almost too late to try and muffle the moans flowing from your lips by crashing his mouth to yours. His pace slowed as he felt the quaking and contractions of your body.
Slowing down was no use to stop his own release, he was too far gone and this was the last push he needed.
Just when your body began to calm down, he groaned and thrusted once more, a gasp left you when feeling him twitch and spill. His fingers clenched the sheets, low guttural moans came from him. He had lowered himself to prevent falling on you, a wise decision considering how much he was shaking, his forehead rested on your collar bone as he recovered.
It felt surreal, to be together like this, sweaty and spend. You felt his breathing get slower against your skin, so slow that you wondered if he felt as tired as you were. Your eyes fluttered shut to enjoy the dreamlike state you found yourself in. It was so easy to be tempted by sleep, so easy that when he finally moved again your eyes barely opened. Even when they were closed, you still sensed that he was looking at your face.
You hummed warmly and curled your fingers in his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. He moved and placed a tender kiss to your lips whilst he withdrew himself. Your body missed him right away, a new feeling. In your chest was a comfortable warmth now, and you touched your palm to his to see if it was warm as well.
His skin was flushed from his neck down to his chest, he was a sight to see like this. Finally your eyes made contact again, his were tired but filled with what you could only identify as adoration.
“I loved that.” You breathed it out. “I love you.”
He still was not used to hearing someone speak those words out loud to him. “And I you.”
Your eyes looked up and bathed into the blue of his.
His finger traced your cheek and nose in bewonderment, “Tired?”
You nodded and he moved to lay beside you. “I feel so good. Tired and good.”
It stroked his ego. He had never felt more wanted and appreciated. The way you looked now was the closest to divinity he would ever be.
You curled into him, head resting on his chest, “Did you enjoy it?”
He was massaging the back of your scalp. “I have never felt anything like it.”
In a good way or…?
You peeked up at him with inquiring eyes, Lancelot saw the silent worry in them.
“I enjoyed it.” He smiled down at you, “Very much so.”
A breath of relief left your lips as you made yourself comfortable in his arms. The silence between you said it all, to be close in the afterglow of this experience was enough. He was the first to fall asleep, no wonder as he had not rested tonight unlike you. The comforting rise and fall of his chest was of great help to fall asleep yourself a little while later.
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legendofmorons · 1 year
Text
To protect a wolf (Twilight)
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Pairing: Twilight x reader -pre relationship
Rating: T for language and some blood
Summary: While Twilight is incapacitated, you step up to protect him. Obviously, he realizes he loves you at the worst time. But you both take care of each other after.
Warnings: Some blood, some fighting, cursing
Other: Let me know if I missed anything
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This dungeon might actually kill him. Twilight can barley thing straight he hurts so much.
And you're with him - you need his help. He can't just quit.
But you're in the final room facing down the boss. And Twilight's barley able to move.
His leg is broken in at least three places. He's pretty sure the world shouldn't be spotty, and he is bleeding out of his ribs.
And to top it all of it's a water dungeon.
The boss is large, a squid like creature that seems to spit poison ink. There's a weak spot - an eye atop its head.
Always with the eyes.
Fuck his life.
"(Y/n)." He tries.
"Shut up." You hiss, drawing attention to yourself by smacking your sword and shield together.
He really can't do anything but trust to roll out of the way of attacks. He just wants to keep you safe- but he can't even decide which quickly blurring version of you is real.
He hears the fight, sword slashing and shield clanging. He heard movement and curses.
Feels the air move with you and the boss.
He can hear you taunt it.
He hears it fall as you attack it.
He hears the intimidating roar as it gets up.
He can't see shit-
But he hears it all.
He hears your curse and inve as something cracks.
He hears you take some new injury
He even hears the snarling curse as you drive something into the beast.
He bets you still look so beautiful. You always do.
What is he doing thinking about that?
You're in danger-
"Die you bitch!" Yoir voice cuts through his thoughts.
Well, you're still alive. That's very good. He'd hate to lose you before he told you he loved you.
Wait-
Fuck.
This new information is not helpful at all. It's also not surprising.
The sound fades out as you fight the boss, time lost to him.
He doesn't know how long has passed when he opens his eyes again... when did he close them?
"Twi... Link?" You call, kneeling in front of him.
"Hm?"
"I'm going to have to carry you out. I don't have any healing items."
"I can walk-"
"Bullshit. You could barely roll over. I'm going to carry you."
"Bu' 'm too heavy." He slurs out.
"You're really not." You say, relying on your own farm life spent wrestling goats, cows, and horses to the ground when needed.
He just groans.
You move so your kneeling on one knee, the othe in front of you.
He groans louder as you slide your arms under him. One around his shoulders and one under his knees.
"Shhh, I got you Twi. It's okay."
"I'm sorry." He manages.
"Don't be." You say quickly, standing and pulling him off the ground with you.
You hold him close to you, straining under his weight. He's pure muscle. You don't know why you thought you could carry him on a broken ankle without issue.
But you have to get hum out. Thank god for adrenaline.
If Twilight were even slightly more aware he'd demand you leave and come back for him. You're bleeding profusely from your stomach. Along with other places.
You walk, carrying him and your all's things out of the dungeon, wincing every other step.
He's concious but only just.
You walk to camp - each step feeling like you're being punished.
The others see you and rush forwards.
"What happened?!"
"Twilight is hurt. You gotta help him."
"You're hurt too." Legend says.
"Not bad." You say, obviously unaware of how injured you are.
Time takes Twilight from you, moving him so he's laying on the ground just so.
Hyrule releases a fairy over Twilight first. Then he starts in with healing magic.
"Is the world supposed to turn black?" You ask, feeling a lot weaker with no notice.
Time turns to you, "What-"
You collapse as your ears start to ring. You probably should have paid more attention to your own condition. Whoops.
.......
Twilight wakes up with a mouth like the desert and a pounding headache- but he's alive and well. Mostly.
He looks around, finding Hyrule and Wild nearby- but you're not in his sight.
"Where’s-" he summons spit to swallow to wet his mouth, "Where’s (Y/n)?"
Hyrule turns, looking relived to see the wolf shifter awake. "Hey, how do you feel?"
"Where is (Y/n)?" Twilight asks again, more impatient.
"They're resting at an inn. With both of you having lost a lot of blood, old man decided we'd need to stay in an inn for a bit. "Legend says from behind Wild.
"Why aren't we there?"
"Your leg needed to heal all the way before we moved you. They - well, they needed a bed."
"They're hurt?"
"Yeah. They are. But they're better now."
"Take me to them." Twilight says, pushing to sit up.
"Okay. Just wait - Wild's almost done with the hearty stew."
"Don't care, I need to make sure-"
"Twilight. "Sky says gently, "They worked hard to keep you safe, don't insult them by being stubborn and refusing a recovery aid."
"I-" Twilight doesn't known what to say to that.
"Good."
He trusts the boys. He really does!
But after his realization and you taking care of him- he just needs to see you as soon as he can.
He needs to make sure you're okay.
He also needs to figure out how in the name of Ordona to tell you he loves you. But he's way more concerned with your health.
Especially since you woukd have gotten hurt protecting him.
Oh... he really fucked up-
"They aren't mad." Legend says from his spot, "I know they aren't a hero like us- but they can hold their own."
"They shouldn't have had to. I should have protected them better."
Legend makes a face that suggests he'd rather talk to a praticularly stubborn wall than trying to convince Twilight of anything right now.
.......
You wake up to Time fretting over you. His muttering is unnerving paired with the face of grim acceptance.
"Where’s- Where’s Twi?" You ask, looking around and not finding him.
This does nothing to slow your racing heart, finding only Time with you and some dull inn decorating.
"He's at camp. He'll be here shortly."
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, he's okay."
"Good. I hate squid."
Time snorts at that, seeming relived that you're well enough to be bitter.
"You gave all of us a scare, looked dead when you came to camp, and then collapsed."
"Oh... Whoops."
"You have to be more careful-"
"Twilight would have died. I am not gonna let someone die just cause I'm hurt too!"
"I'm not saying otherwise. I'm just telling you to be more careful."
"Okay. But- is Twi really-"
The door opens with a bang, an exhumed Twilight in the doorway who let's out a breath of air when he sees ypu.
"(Y/n)."
"Twi!"
You try to sit up only to grunt and fall back into bed.
"Stay down," Time says, "You're gonna be sore for a while."
"You're okay." Twilight breathes out, walking over to sit on the bed beside you. "I'm sorry I should have protected you-"
"Don't start that." You manage, "You were really hurt."
"The others said you were too."
"I could walk. You couldn't. It's nothing. "
"(Y/n)." Twilight says sharper than he usually does, "You put yourself in danger for me. Please don't act like I couldn't have done things differently. "
"Twi... I know. It definitely could have gone better. It could have been worse too."
"Yeah."
"I'm really glad you're okay "
Time stands, stretching up, "You're staying in this room too, Twilight. I figured you'd both want to be near eachother. "
"Thank you." You say to Time.
"Seriously though, be careful, (Y/n)."
Twilight has to agree with his mentor.
You just sigh, trying not to move too much. "Okay."
"Good. I'm going to check on dinner plans." Time says before leaving and shutting the door behind him.
Twilight just let's out a breath, "I was worried... when I woke up you weren't there."
"I know. I felt the same way."
"I'm sure." Twilight says, not sure how to tell you that he actually doubts that.
Becuase you obviously care for him but how could you love him back?
"Twiligh- Link." You say, the use of his name making him look up quickly.
"Yes?"
"Don't beat yourself up. Everyone gets hurt."
"I'm supposed to protect you though."
"Why?" You ask, feeling hurt already at the implications of the statement. "I may not be a hero but I can hold my own!"
"It's not that... It's just-" he takes a moment.
How does he tell you that he needs to protect you becuase you are someone he loves. That he loves you romantically. With his whole heart?
You stare, waiting for him to continue and really hoping he has a reason that's not just him being a chosen hero.
Twilight sighs, he might as well just tell you. He can't lie for anything- not to you at least... and a lie woukd just confuse you more.
"Because I love you, (Y/n). And I don't ever want to see you hurt."
You choke a little, suprised and touched. That's definitely a better reason than be Hylia's chosen hero.
"And I don't expect you to feel the same-"
"I do. I do feel the same."
"What?"
"I love you too. Have for a whole now- though typically you confess with flowers and not while someone is in bed looking like shit."
"You look beautiful. "
"You're very biased."
"Yeah."
You smile at him, and while you definitely hurt, you feel better than you did when you passed out. And hey, you might just get a boyfriend out of this.
"We should talk about this more later Twi, but can- you just stay with me?"
"Of course. Can I do anything to make you hurt less?"
"No... I'm probably going to fall asleep again soon honestly. I feel like I was run over by a heard of wild horses."
"Ouch. I'm sorry, Darlin'."
You giggle, "I like that name."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
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