#MADDENING IF I DARE SAY. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

remuslovebot · 4 months

Note

felix catton fic where he loves reader but she doesn’t notice <3

omggg okay so i think it would be super interesting if this fic was told in his pov. please be kind, im not great at first person. :)

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n, farleigh being goofy and helpful, possessive!felix, some sexual language, angst with a happy ending.

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I saw her come into the library with a stack of books for Farleigh and I. Her smile lit up the room and I felt my cheeks pull into a grin.

Before she sat down at our table, I heard Farleigh say to me. “It’s never going to happen.”

I turned to him, my cheeks felt hot. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, brushing off the fact of Farleigh knowing about my feelings for her.

She walked to the table, placing down the books. “You won’t believe what I found. They have first editions of all my favorite classics. It’s impressive,” she smiled.

God she was so pretty when she smiled. It made my stomach fill with butterflies.

“It’s Oxford, of course they do,” Farleigh snapped sarcastically with a laugh.

I glared at Farleigh. I wish he wasn’t so rude sometimes. I looked to y/n cheerfully, “that’s wonderful. I’m glad you found what you were looking for.”

Her big doe like eyes looked into mine. I swear she was like a breath of fresh air. I’d never seen someone shine the way she did. Y/n sat down next to me and I put my arm around her shoulders.

Y/n didn’t seem to argue or even notice. She never noticed my feelings.

“So, the pub tonight?” Farleigh asked. I nodded and now all eyes were on Y/n.

“I can’t tonight. I have a date,” Y/n said sheepishly.

I looked at her in surprise, but then of course she would have a date. She was beautiful and funny. She was smart, always helping me with my homework or studying.

“Oh?” Farleigh said, his eyebrows wiggling. “Tell us more,” he said, looking at me and then to her.

“Well his name is Evan,” she explained. “I met him in my art history course, we sit together. “He asked me out for dinner and I said yes.”

I wanted to ring Evan’s neck. How dare he steal Y/n away from me. She was mine, I love her. Woah love? Maybe. Possibly. Yes.

Farleigh was already giving her advice and I stayed unusually quiet. I couldn’t tell her it was wonderful, because it wasn’t. This was dreadful. I didn’t want to lie to her.

“Felix? Are you okay,” I hear her sweet voice ask. I look at my hand and it’s clutched tightly around my pen.

I dropped my pen and looked at Y/n. “I need to go,” I say, grabbing my books and binder. I stood up and walked out of the library.

This was maddening. How could she not see how much I cared for her? And now she has to go to stupid Evan and ruin my plans.

The next day, I stayed out of her sight. I couldn’t bare to look at her. I was jealous and heartbroken. I had assumed the date had gone well, because from my window I saw my Y/n with him.

Farleigh came to my room later that day. “You need to tell her how you feel,” he said.

I grumbled in response. “There’s no point, she doesn’t love me.”

“That’s not true. She talks about you all the time. It’s exhausting,” Farleigh whined.

“You’re being serious?” I asked, looking at him in shock. Farleigh only looked at me like I was crazy.

“Yeah,” he said rolling his eyes. “Tell her how you feel for gods sake.” He said.

“What about Evan?” I asked, although truthfully I didn’t care.

Farleigh rolled his eyes, “What about Evan, you could have anyone you wanted,” he insisted.

So I thought I would tell Y/n how I felt.

Later, she and I were hanging out in my dorm room. I was smoking a cigarette and she was reading by my window. I looked up at her from my spot on the floor and admired her. She was perfect. Her concentration was intriguing.

“Y/n,” I hummed, taking a drag of my cigarette.

“Yes, Felix,” she replied. I held back a groan at my name on her lips. It turned me on.

“I need to tell you something,” I began to confess. I put out my cigarette and I sat up, looking at her seriously.

She looked at me quizzically and I felt my cheeks go red. “I don’t like you with Evan. I don’t think he deserves you,” I said.

Her eyebrows furrowed and I walked towards my window, closer to her.

“Any why is that exactly,” she replied, putting down her book.

“It’s because—it’s because, well, I love—I’m in love with you,” I said softly, looking down her gorgeous face.

Y/n was in shock, or at least that’s how she looked. “You love me?” She asked and I nodded. Of course I loved — love — her.

She stood up from my windowsill and up at me. “I don’t understand,” she said.

“What don’t you understand? I can’t stand to see you with him, I’d rather you be with me,” I insisted.

“I can’t Felix,” she said, voice cracking.

Tears came to my eyes, “What? Why?” I asked.

She sighed, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? For the day when you would pluck up the courage to ask me out,” she said.

I had no idea.

“Of course I love you too,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

In an instant I pulled her to me and kissed her roughly. She kissed me back, her tongue entering my mouth. My body was on fire, she tasted of coffee and cigarettes — smelled of vanilla and rose.

I moaned her name as we continued to devour each others faces. She loved me and I would never let her forget it.

#felix catton x reader fluff #felix catton fluff #felix catton x reader #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi imagine #felix catton headcannons #felix catton requests #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton #saltburn x reader

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year

Text

clouded judgment / clear mind

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: it was a long time since Joel had felt a maddening rage like this, but he weren't about to let anyone who dares to hurt you get away with it (based on this ask)

Tags: Joel goes apeshit, angst, a bit of comfort at the end, established relationship, protective Joel (REALLY protective lmao), basically he goes feral

Warnings: uh. VERY graphic descriptions of violence (I'm not good at writing action sequences but it is graphic), swearing, kinda torturing 😬

Word count: 4.5K

A/N: this one was really challenging, but i hope yall will like what i came up with :) i really didn't expect it to be so difficult to write buuut i tried to focus on the "giving-his-brother-nightmares" side of Joel and i think i succeeded. anyway !!! happy reading ❤️

He should have never left you alone.

Which was a ridiculous thought, of course, because how are you supposed to patrol efficiently if the other person refuses to leave your side even for a moment? Besides, he didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you – he saw multiple times what you were capable of first-hand and he knew you were able to take care of yourself.

He put it forward once – to not split up and patrol the same area within the eyeshot of each other. You sent him a crooked smile at that, saying something about him being a little too overprotective before you gave him a kiss and went on your merry way, leaving him alone and slightly annoyed (but with a faint, stupid grin on his face).

So he tried to rein in this ‘overprotectiveness’ you mentioned. He never brought it up again, even though a cold shiver ran up his spine every time he lost sight of you beyond the safe walls of Jackson. Each time you two went on a patrol, he had to take a second to calm down and remind himself this is not one of his dreams when he loses you.

That’s why at first, when he heard your voice screaming his name from a distance, he wasn’t sure if it was really happening.

The instinct, however, kicked in the next second and he rushed back to where he saw you last, to the interior of a resort around which he was scouting. This was supposed to be one of the safest options for patrolling – no one ever saw any signs of life here besides occasional infected, and Joel was never that worried when you went inside alone to check the place.

He had a feeling his cautious (he really didn’t want to call it ‘overprotective’) nature was gonna become a nuisance again after this incident.

The goddamn downpour outside made listening for any noises aggravatingly difficult. Joel yelled for you, but he didn’t hear any answer and the driving rain beating against the windows of the resort absorbed all the sounds.

He made his way inside the building and up the stairs when he noticed your hat lying discarded against the wall. A wave of ice-cold dread washed over him. The stairway was dark but even with the little light he had he could see a couple of wet, almost black droplets on the dirty floor.

What he felt next reminded him of falling asleep – his shoulders relaxed and from head to toe a cool, silent equilibrium crept over him. Joel gripped his rifle firmly and pushed on soundlessly. It didn’t seem like you were stabbed or shot – there would be much more blood present – but you were hurt. Someone must’ve laid in wait to ambush you, and now…

It didn’t matter. Whoever it was, they made a grave mistake.

Joel reached the second floor, listening intently for any clues as to where you might be or how many people are in the building with him, but he didn’t even have to check the rooms one by one. A faint light, which couldn't have been left by the previous patrol, was spilling out from underneath the doors at the far end of the corridor . He did consider the possibility that it was a decoy and your attacker was hiding in one of the other rooms, but the closer he got to the sliver of light on the dusty floor, and the more doors he passed, it became clear that whoever got you, they weren’t that cunning.

And then he heard it. A sound of a blow from the other side of the door, and then a strangled cry.

It was you. Your voice.

Joel took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and kicked the door open, bursting into the room with his rifle held high – only to find himself surrounded by six men, five of whom were holding him at gunpoint.

The sixth one, a ragged-looking blond, stood over you and the second he saw Joel, he grabbed you by the hair and pressed a knife against your neck, making both you and Joel freeze.

“You’re from this town nearby, right?” asked the man with a heavy accent Joel couldn’t place. “The one that fucking shoots off any newcomers.”

Joel didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at this man. All he could see was your bruised and battered face and the blood running freely from your – probably broken – nose and down your chin. You had a black eye and a split brow, but your gaze was sharp and alert when you looked back at him.

He felt like his insides were boiling.

“Hey, dickhead!” the leader of the group yelled, gripping your hair tighter and making you hiss in pain. “You deaf or something?”

Joel finally managed to take his eyes off you – your blood and your bruises, and the concealed fear on your face – and glared at the man standing over you. His jaw was clenched and nostrils flaring, but he quickly collected himself. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him when you were in danger.

He lifted his hands slowly, showing that he was no threat to them. The thug tilted his head at one of his friends.

“Put down your gun and slide it over.”

Joel watched you following his movements with your eyes as he carefully put his rifle down and kicked it in the direction of one of the men. The blond holding the knife nodded twice.

“Now. You two are from the town, aren’tcha?”

“Let her go,” said Joel, trying to remain calm and not use – quoting Ellie – his ‘asshole voice’. “Then we’ll talk.”

The man shook his head and chuckled.

“Oh, no, no.” He pressed the blade harder against your throat. “We have the upper hand here. You understand?”

The man was looking at him expectantly but Joel’s eyes were nailed on the trickle of blood now running down the column of your neck. He remembered kissing that same neck this morning and tickling it with his nose, and the thought of this fucking bastard cutting your soft skin and leaving such a mark on it made him feel like he was about to burst.

“Fine,” he ground out with his jaw set. He looked over at the leader of the group. “What do you want?”

Had any of them been smarter, they would have picked up a dangerous note in his voice. But just like he suspected, they weren’t that bright.

“You go back to your town and bring five more horses here,” said the blond. “And ammo. My buddy here,” he used his chin to point at another guy, standing behind Joel, “will tell you what kind. You try anything or come back with someone else, and I’ll slit her throat right open.”

“She will go get that shit for you and I will stay,” Joel negotiated strongly, but the leader of the group shook his head again.

“No. No way. You go and bring back everything we ask for, and I’ll let your little friend go.”

Joel’s eyes once again shifted to your form and something inside his chest twitched. You noticed it – of course you did, you were always able to read him like no one else – and tried to offer him a half smile.

“I’ll be fine, Joel,” you reassured him. “Nothing I haven’t–”

“Shut your trap!” The shorter man standing to your right yelled and raised his hand, making you flinch.

Joel could almost feel fire burning in his veins and through his skin, peeling it off his bones.

“Hey! There’s no need for that!” he said louder, taking a step forward, but the gang lifted their guns higher. He stopped and spread his arms wider. “I’ll get you the stuff you want. Just leave her alone.”

“You better hurry, then,” said the blond with a nasty smile, and Joel nodded while trying not to look too desperate. He looked at his friend. “Tell him what we need.”

Joel didn’t give a shit what they were saying – it was him who needed to think of something, and fast. He had a suspicion as to who these men were – he heard from Tommy about a larger group trying to gain entry to Jackson several times. Apparently they threatened the patrol which found them when they were denied permission to join their community. It was before Joel came to the small town for the first time with you and Ellie, but the word around was that any rogue group around this terrains wasn’t to be trusted.

And everything from the description Tommy gave him fit: ragged looks, traveling on foot, low on ammunition.

While one of the men listed what kind of guns they had and how much supplies they wanted, a motion in Joel’s field of vision caught his attention and his eyes darted to you – or more specifically, to your left hand.

You stared right back at him, moving your fingers slightly so the others didn’t notice.

N… O… A… M…

No ammo.

None? That’s probably why the one standing next to you wasn’t holding you at gunpoint but with a knife to the throat. The rest of them must’ve had their pistols drawn just for show. Joel had no idea how you figured it out, but a thought struck him and he surveyed the members of the group. He remembered which one held onto his rifle, but you were armed, too…

As if reading his mind, your fingers started to twitch again the second he looked back at you.

U... Left… B, E, H, I…

Suddenly the man to your right bowed over you again and punched you square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of you.

“Fucking bitch,” he snarled with contempt and glared back at Joel. “No funny games, you hear me? You come back with a gun or anyone else, and I won’t hesitate to fucking kill her, man.”

Joel’s heart was pounding in his chest. All he could see was your face contorted in pain, all he could hear were your coughs and grunts.

Two of the men came forward – the one on his left had a loaded gun from what you managed to convey to him in sign language – and pushed him towards the exit. Joel shifted his icy stare at the man standing next to him, and then at the two situated near you.

They were all going to die.

When he gets back, he’s going to kill every one last of them, and he’s going to enjoy it immensely.

Joel sent you one last look before turning around and slowly walking out of the room with both men close behind, pointing their guns (and only one of them loaded) at him.

It was going to be alright. He had a stirring of a plan and when he comes back, maybe with Tommy or someone else…

You gasped and coughed again behind his back after the sound of another punch.

Joel came to a dead stop, not registering the gun barrel digging into his back, and he felt like his jaw was going to snap if he kept clenching it like that.

You murmured something he didn’t quite catch and Joel turned his head slightly just in time to see the short man kicking you in the ribs and your form lying on the wooden floor, spitting out blood…

“You think you’re so clever, huh? I swear to fucking god, if you pull something like that again…”

Joel didn’t even let the man finish.

In a split second he elbowed the man behind him, grabbing his hand holding the gun – the one they took from you – and shooting the blond standing over you. He fell backwards and the knife fell out of his grip. Taking out the guy Joel grappled with was embarrassingly easy, and once he had a good grip on the pistol belonging to you, he spun around to face the other thug with his gun, standing on the opposite side of the room.

The ragged man fired at him, but Joel didn’t even need to duck, for the bullet missed him by half a meter at least. The man was lying dead soon after, shot twice in the head, and the remaining three took out their weapons, ready for a fight.

None of them reached for Joel’s rifle, lying under their friend’s corpse.

“That’s even better,” he murmured to himself, unloading the gun and throwing it against the far wall.

If looks could kill, they’d already be lying on the ground and writhing in agony. But Joel was more than happy to do it himself. And with his bare hands.

He strode with confidence to the nearest man who swung a machete at him. Joel avoided the attack and pushed him back, quickly darting to the side and decking the other man coming at him.

A sharp pain ripped through his body from the back of his arm when the third thug cut through his clothes. Joel blocked the second strike and twisted the opponent's arm, applying so much pressure that the bone in the forearm snapped and the man’s scream pierced the air.

He lurched back to dodge the machete aimed at his neck and picked up a knife dropped by the previous guy. He surged forward, driving the blade into the thigh of his current attacker, which made the other man lose his balance. Their friend, the last one still unharmed, managed to punch Joel’s jaw, making something crack and reverberate inside his skull, but he only wiped the blood from his face.

When the last thug came closer, Joel used his own momentum and grabbed the back of his skull, bringing the guy's face down onto his own knee. After that his movements were practically automatic when he grabbed the dazed man from behind and broke his neck in a swift motion.

Breathing heavily, he made his way to the first man he knocked out and took your gun from, picking up the machete en route. That son of a bitch wasn’t even conscious, but it didn’t stop Joel from bringing the weapon down and through his head.

The next one was the bastard with the broken arm, but his screams quickly died away when he, too, received a deep and lethal wound from Joel – this time aimed at his chest, almost cutting it open.

Your yelp ripped through the roar of blood in his ears and Joel turned around just in time to see the blond he shot in the shoulder sitting on top of you, trying to stab you with his knife. You managed to dodge it and before that idiot could try again, Joel came up to you both, grabbed the man’s hair and all but threw him off of you and onto the floor.

The blond was still holding the weapon in his hand, but didn’t get another chance to use it – with all his strength Joel brought the heel of his heavy boot down on the injured man's fingers. The man screamed when the satisfying crunch of the bones in his hand breaking echoed throughout the room and Joel couldn't hide a smirk.

He deserved it. All of them deserved it.

He again saw before his eyes the way this motherfucker kicked you and how his friend threatened to cut your throat. Again he saw red.

“You piece of shit,” Joel whispered, still blinded by rage, and gave the man a taste of his own medicine by kicking him in the stomach as hard as he could. The bastard coughed and yelled in pain but it wasn’t enough.

Joel’s focus was sharp and clear when he stood over the battered and bleeding man, staring down at him with hatred. He thought the blond tried to say something – his lips were certainly moving – but he didn’t concern himself with any begging or threats the thug had to offer. Instead he gripped the front of his sweater and punched him in the jaw, letting the limp body fall to the floor and relishing in the sounds of his curses, his grunts of pain, his blood dripping onto the floor…

Not enough.

Joel did that several more times – grabbing the idiot’s clothes, hair, whatever – to pull him up and hit him in the jaw, temple, nose and wherever else his fist landed. The face of the man was bloodied and he was barely conscious at this point and still all Joel could see was the look of sadistic glee on this man's face after finding an excuse to hurt you.

Joel didn’t have much strength anymore, but he ignored the biting pain from the cut on his arm and the raw wounds on his bloody knuckles, and straddled the lying man. The survival instinct must've kicked in and the blond started to tussle, reaching with his not-broken fingers to Joel’s face, scratching his brow and cheek.

And just like the glee he saw in the thug’s eyes earlier, Joel was more than happy that he gave him an excuse – and an idea – how to hurt him more.

“I saw how you looked at her,” he said in a low tone to the unlucky man, holding his left arm in place with his knee and pressing his own thumb to that fucker's swollen eye. “You like hearin’ people screamin’ in pain? Because I just know this is going to bring me great joy.”

Blood was flowing from under Joel’s finger and down his hand when he gouged the blond’s eye out and the man was shrieking. He was writhing and struggling under Joel's weight, and his voice became guttural and hoarse soon after when the dark blood started to flood his mouth. Joel pulled his hand away, panting heavily, and soaked in the suffering of that bastard whose face now resembled a smashed, bloody goo.

Not enough.

It was unfortunate that the blond was the only one left Joel could take it out on, but he couldn’t find any compassion in himself at the moment. So he punched him again, staining the floor with the scumbug's blood.

And again.

“Joel.”

Joel turned around sharply, grasping the thug’s knife. He could still feel rage churning inside of him and he was breathing heavily, trying to contain the fury filling him without screaming out loud. His hands were covered in blood – not his – and he subconsciously knew that the man lying motionlessly under him was long since dead, his face completely destroyed, but he wished that son of a bitch was still alive so that he could feel the suffering Joel longed to inflict upon him.

Everything because he hurt you.

You…

The ringing in his ears stopped suddenly and the knife fell out of his hand when he ran up to where you were still lying on the floor. You were curled up on your side with your arms wrapped protectively around your stomach and your face twisted in pain.

Joel’s breathing got quicker, now for an entirely different reason, when he noticed that the cut on your neck was bigger than he originally thought, and still bleeding. Your face was bruised and he knew your whole torso will probably turn green and purple soon, too.

“Oh, babygirl,” he whispered tenderly, his trembling hands hovering above your body, but not touching it. “It’s…” It’s alright, he wanted to say. Or maybe, where does it hurt the most?

He had trouble finding his voice, though. In his fury he completely forgot that you were still here and in need of his help.

You took a deep breath and turned your head ever so slightly to look at him in the corner of your eye. A sad smile appeared on your face.

“Hi, Joel.”

Joel breathed in. Out. In again.

For fuck’s sake, what was he thinking?

He quickly wiped the blood of the people he killed on his pants and cursed at himself mentally.

“Hi, darlin’,” he murmured in response, focusing back on you. “You’re gonna be alright. How are you feeling?”

“I think I might have a broken rib or two,” you breathed while Joel pulled out a clean piece of cloth he carried in his jacket for cases like this one and pressed it against the cut on the side of your neck. You winced and he felt a pang of pain in his own chest.

“Can I check?”

You let go of your stomach with a strangled gasp. Joel started to gently feel your torso, trying to discern if he could feel any broken bones or signs of internal bleeding. He kept his touch as delicate as he could, not wanting to hurt you even more, or worse – scare you.

He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, though, no matter how much he tried to calm his breathing. He wished he could hold you as securely as he held his gun, with a quiet heart and sharp focus, but the fear of accidentally hurting you made his fingertips recoil at times.

Although you two knew each other for years now, you were never a witness to this cruel side of him. You knew about it, of course, of horrible things he’s done before he got to Boston and met you. A couple of times you even saw with your own eyes snippets of these primary emotions of fear or anger overtaking Joel’s mind and body.

But never like that. Never with such ferocity, hatred and satisfaction from hurting those who did the same to you.

He just really didn’t want you to be afraid of him. You were so precious to him and often he thought those brutal hands of his, which he knew were guilty of inflicting unimaginable pain and suffering, weren't worthy of touching someone who in his eyes was so delicate and pure.

But it never stopped you from seeking his touch, and although Joel could be stubborn and tough at times, he didn’t have it in himself to ever refuse you anything – even when he knew better.

That was always the case. His judgment and mind were clouded when it came to you.

“I don’t think anythin’ is broken,” he finally said in a quiet voice, cupping your cheek gingerly and turning your head to look at it better. “But the nose probably is. How did it happen?”

“They jumped out on me in the hallway,” you answered, not meeting his eyes while he gently touched the base of your nose. Then you looked to the window against which the still pouring rain was beating. “One of them punched me when I shouted for you. I thought you might have not heard me.”

“I heard you,” he murmured and sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. You came for me pretty quickly, so–”

“Not that. M’sorry you had to see… this.”

To that, you didn't say anything. Joel felt his heart clenching on itself and almost stopping from the wave of terror that washed over him.

His treacherous mind was rushing him to defend his actions or make excuses – because if he doesn’t, if it turns out you’re scared of him and the things he’s capable of…

You might leave him. And if you leave, Joel won’t survive that.

But he didn’t give in to those cruel thoughts and silenced the voice in his head.

“I’d do it again,” he said quietly, making you lift your head. “In a heartbeat. I’m really sorry you had to see that, darlin’, but I… just know I’d never hurt you. And if I can help it, no one else will either.”

“Hey.” Your knuckles brushed his cheek and you looked at him with sad eyes. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I know you did it to protect me.”

“I wanted them to suffer,” he continued as if you didn’t say anything, but at the same time he soaked in the feeling of your soft touch on his face. “I don’t know how much you saw–”

“Joel.” You sat up with a wince after interrupting him, and your gaze turned sharp. “Why are you telling me this?”

Even though the bloody, battered mess that he made of the blond man seemed to push itself into Joel’s field of vision, he refused to look away from you.

“‘Cause you need to know. I feel like I’d be lyin’ to you if I didn’t explain that it wasn’t an accident or a one-time thing,” he answered, his eyes flickering from your neck to your face, and down to his own stained hands. “Couldn’t think of anythin’ else after I saw you like that, on the ground and…”

“Listen to me.” You took his head firmly in your hands and your gaze was unwavering – like you wanted to make sure that your every word will reach the depths of his soul. “I’ll say it again: you don’t need to explain. I get why you did that. And don’t even think you’re gonna drive me away because of that.”

You knew him too well. Sometimes it was slightly annoying, sometimes even scary.

This time, however, it felt reassuring.

You looked to the side where the body of his last victim lay, and Joel grimaced, gently touching the edge of your jaw and tilting it back to him. “Don’t look,” he whispered, realizing with surprise, as well as a horrible lump in his throat, that he felt almost ashamed.

Your bright eyes met his again and he briefly wondered if your gaze always was so scrutinizing.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said sternly, like always knowing what was going on in his head. “I'm not, so stop thinking that.” You shook him by the arm a little and when he didn’t answer, the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a teasing manner. “I’ve seen you multiple times in the morning. I know you’re secretly a big softie.”

Joel really didn’t deserve this kind of kindness and understanding from you. That didn’t stop him from craving it, though.

He didn't say anything – just leaned in and kissed your cheek tenderly, lingering there for a moment but paying attention not to brush your nose. You exhaled and closed your eyes, your eyelashes tickling his skin, and he decided not to drag this conversation on any longer.

“Come ‘ere, sweetheart. I’ll help you up.”

He stood up and held out his hand. It was rough and covered in blood, but even after you saw what he did to those men and heard their screams, you didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Joel,” you said gravely after standing up. There was no trace of your previous smile on your face. “If you were the one in danger, I’d do the same thing.”

You were looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer, and after a couple of seconds he nodded slightly. Apparently it was good enough for you, because you just squeezed his hand and tugged him after you and out of the room.

Joel didn’t know if he believed you.

But your words made him feel calmer and cleared his clouded mind nonetheless.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #pedro pascal #joel miller #tlou hbo #the last of us fanfiction

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loaksbitch · 1 year

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ok this is based on request, but imagine jake sully fucking you with pure hated cause your existence alone fucking irritates him yet he can’t keep his hand off of you yes? HECK YES

warning(s) – enemies with benefits, angry sex, mean jake, clit stimulation, overstimulation, cervix fucking, dumbfication, owning kink (if that’s a thing), cussing, orgasm denial, choking, slight hair pulling, cum stuffing, reader is a bratty minx too.

jake was sat across the hut, reshaping his arrow tip to hunt for later and very much annoyed on how youre in front of him, chewing on your thumbnail so fucking loud, on eywa you’re was so bitchy.

for the past half hours he was trying so hard to block out the chewing sound yet nothing helped, especially with your very aware self doing that purposely.

“can you stop doing that?” jake huffs, doing his best to control his growing anger and hatred.

“what?” you say with an attitude, a brow arched and giving him a stare.

you and you’re fucking attitude. jake licks his lips, tongue poking through his cheek. “that, stop chewing loud you’re distracting me.” he says, pointing to where his reshaped arrows are.

you click your tongue, nodding your head to the door. “if you’re disturbed, the door is that way.” your words are pushing him on edge, wanting to rip you and do things, you on other hand was also feeling the same and you want him away from your sight.

“this place is not yours.” he spat, tone showing a tint of anger. you’re hitting jackpot. “and it’s not yours.” you bite back.

a deep growl leaves his chest, jake frowning as he starts to speed his knife against the wooden arrow. he decides to ignore you, thinking it’s the best to steam down his anger, fuck he really hates you it’s making his cock twitch.

you’re not done with him, especially after yesterday night when he literally scared the cute na’vi male who was talking to you away. this bitch deserves to go crazy with your existence.

“slow down.” you say, voice high and pushing him to the edge. “i swear to God, y/n if you don’t shut the fu—“ you dare to cut him off, you fucking cut him off and his nostrils flared.

“you might not want to cut those fingers, do you?” you tease, empathizing with the fact he has five fingers and is different from the na’vi’s.

he blinks, eyes twitching and triggered before he snaps his head to yours.

“i’m sick of your bitchy self today.” he tries to humble you but you find ways to slap his face with your fiery mouth. “and i'm sick of your bitchy self every day.” you say and jake loudly hissed, amber eyes strictly glaring at you.

“fuck you.” he grumbles

“fuck you.” you hiss back.

done with his shit, you decide to leave and get on your feet. he smirks, lips opening to get on your nerves. “leaving already?” you don’t reply, only one plan in your mind. you’re gonna destroy this man.

intentionally, you walk over to where reshaped and non shaped separated arrows are and nudge your leg to them. you feel them tumble, falling and mixing together. “oops.” you giggle,

jakes’ smirk drops, fading so quickly, this was the last string of patience he had. he lets a terrific chuckle out and your body shivers, maybe you’ve taken it too far.

“you little bitch.” he was now on his feet, walking to you and grabbing you by your hair. you two always ended up in a fight, him not caring if you're a female or you not caring if he was male. you just go for it, punching him when he dared to touch your hair.

“the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you turn to him, face red with anger as well. you’ve always hated when someone had you by your hair. you poke on his chest, pushing him while you knew this drives him insane with maddens cause he hates getting pushed too.

“don’t. push. me.”

both of your eyes were on fire and burning holes to each other’s skull. you swallow nervously yet hold your ground and not let him see how he was intimidating you.

“don’t be an asshat and you won’t be pushed.” you said quietly.

“fuck you.” he says, voice to deep.

“fuck you.” you’re on your tiptoes now, chin raised high to show you’re not scared or bottoming out.

without any warnings his lips were on yours, hot and wet as he takes your lips and devour you. anger was still in him but the lust is winning. both of you are fighting until he was biting on your lips and making you involuntarily moan.

it was his chance, tongue being shoved inside your mouth and being tied. he moans to the kiss. jake suddenly pulls you closer and you whine, hands skimming to his chest and push him away.

he licks his lips, eyes lingering on your lips before lifting to see your eyes. you wipe your lips with your arm, spitting on the floor with disgust. oh trust me, you were so fucking turned on but had to pretend.

“don’t wipe my kiss off your lips.” he demands and you scoff, wiping more and watch his eyes squint, a chuckle leaving him.

“fine then, i’ll mark you all over your body and see if you can wipe it.” he spits and you’re being scooped to his shoulder.

you don’t fight cause you know you want this, but at the same time you’re nervous.

before you know it, you’re being thrown to the hammock, jake crawling on top of you and you almost moan at the sight. “what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not letting him have a chance to know you’re wanting him right now.

“i think your sexy ass knows exactly what i’m doing.” your inside twists, pussy pulsing at his words. he doesn’t miss how your legs close themselves and he nods, smirking. “that turns you, doesn't it?” you look away when he holds onto your knees and forces them open.

“fuck you.” you say again and this time jake grins. “please do.” he begs this time.

he was between your legs, your loincloth getting ripped away and him untying his gently. he’s so passive aggressive. “i’m gonna fuck you till you’re screaming my name only.” he leans to nudge on your cheek with his nose.

“fuck off, i’m not doing–“ jake was again kissing you, rough and angry that almost breaks your skin. your legs are roughly pushed wider. “i fucking hate you.” he reminds you and anger bubbles in you, “i fucking hate you too–hngh..!” you struggle to answer when pleasure strikes you as jake cups your heat.

“you’re so fucking wet.” your eyes almost roll up to your head, his husky voice being too much. jake was admiring the way he bruised your blue skin when he was marking your neck.

jake trails hot wet kisses down your cleavage and to your breast. you drew a deep breath between your teeth when he took your nipple. jake locked his eyes with yours when he tugged on your nipple, letting it roll between his teeth. the sharpness of his teeth scraping on your nipple and making you shudder.

he leaned back, getting on his knees and glaring at you as he told you how he is proud with the effect he had on you with his eyes. your temper was flaring.

you pull your legs to your chest and try to close them but jake was fast. “uh-uh.” he grips onto your ankle and yanks your legs back open. you grit your teeth, fighting him and his masculine ass to get off of you.

“baby.” he sternly calls and you freeze, “the fuck did you just call me?” you slap his hand away from you when he tries to reach and brush your messy hair from your forehead. “i ain’t your baby.” you growl.

“fine, you want it the hard way?” he spits. “i’ll fuck you then.”

you’re getting pushed back and pinned to the hammock. “fucking stay like that or else…” he threats and you scoff. “no, you don’t tell me what to you, i’m not yours to obey around.”

“you’re not mine?” he arched his brow and you're silent, looking away and staring at the roof until hands are firm, grip on your jaw turns you and makes you meet his gaze. “you’re not mine?” of course at the end of the day you’re his.

“yes, you don’t own me.” every time his nostrils flared, you were very happy because he was getting upset. “we will see about that.” and then he was leaning down to capture your other breast that didn’t get attention.

you were fast to throw your head back, moaning when you felt him lightly bite on your bud and make you squirm under him. you didn’t realize you were pushing his head away from your chest until jake was grabbing your wrist and throwing it away.

right then you arch your back for him to suck on your nipple more he stops and you whine. “you’re not mine huh? you sure you don’t want to take that back?” you huff, eyes telling him you’re not changing your mind.

“yeah,” you spit, watching him grin, “is that so?” he says.

“yes, because you’re— argh!” you groan when his other hand roughly parts your fold and sinks in until his knuckle is a barrier. jake was so rough when he fingers you, your cunt squeezing him deliciously.

your eyes widen when you catch his cock jump and point straight to the roof, precum leaking from the angry tip of his dick. he can imagine how warm and tight you are.

“relax.” he curls his finger inside you, thumb flicking your clit. “relax for me.” he hates you yet look at him going all ‘relax for me’ on you.

“you’re so pathetic, so fucking dumb on my fingers.” he pulls his two fingers out before shoving them in you.

“who am i?” he asks and your answer causes him to curl his fingers inside you. “you’re an asshole!” you mweled. “asshole? i’m an asshole?” jake pinches on your thigh when you try to close them on his hand.

“c’mon pretty, i know you’re better than that. who am i?”

you’re silent, only soft breath leaving you. jake can feel how you pulse on his fingers, telling him you’re about to come. “what the–“ your eyes shoot open when you feel jake pull his hands away from you.

“open your legs wider, be fast.” for once you do as you’re told and jake hums, pleased.

“you’re not gonna get that far until you say you’re mine.” he was very serious and you gulped. you’re spread open and jake closes his eyes when the scent of your leaking slick hits his nose.

you smell so tempting and delicious.

your gaze follows him when he settles between your legs. “gonna fuck some sense into you now.” you throbbed when you said that, feeling your wetness leaking out of you fast and clenching on nothing but air.

jake held both of your legs, pushing them up to your chest and folding you half. it was his turn to squat, watching your exposed and pink folds shining as his angry tip circles on the slit.

“please,” you catch yourself slipping, pride somehow demolished. jake was surprised, “what? can’t hear you.” he gives you an attitude.

you don’t fight back, just wanting to be filled with his dick. “please i need you inside me.” he wasn’t up for teasing now. he needed you as much as you needed him. “fuuuck.” he moans, watching your face attentively when your jaw hungs open.

pain and pleasure hit you, he was not giving you any time to get accustomed to his length. jake thrusts into you, angry and rough.

“you’re mine?” he asks, taking advantage of your hazy mind but you’re no near to being hazy. “fuck off.” you hiss when he pushes your leg to your chest more, almost blocking your lungs from your stretching.

“hm, i’m asking you in a minute and i’ll need you to get it right yeah?” you only moan. jake pressed his body to your folded leg, grabbing your hips and titling your pelvis. you scream when he hits the right spot.

hands sought to his broad shoulders and pushed him when he ruined your tight cunt, it was painful when he started to slip in more. jake can’t help but get shocked when he fucks you open. his cock was literally in your cervix.

“it hurts.” you whine but jake only shushes you. hands wiping on the tears that appear on your eyes. “shh, you’re okay. i’m just so deep, f-fuck don’t do that.” he grips on your hips when you tighten on him. your warm breath hits his lips on how close he is and pressing himself on you.

hands that were wiping your tears slides to hold onto your wrists that keep pushing him away and moving them away from him. “who am i, baby?” you’re now completely gone, his dick controlling your brain and body, even your breath when he ruts to you.

tears are leaking from your eyes as he keeps thrusting into you, abusing your walls and bruising them. you moan and cry louder, nothing making sense with the pleasure and pain you’re feeling.

your breath shortens when jake wraps his large hand on your throat, oh mother eyw—

“who am i?” his tone changes on the last word and you scream? giving in easily. “jake! jake sully!” you cry out, orgasm bubbling in you, you want it out of you, the growing pressure. you want jake to rip it out of you.

“okay, that’s it.” he pats your temple, “ seems like ’m knocking some sense in you.”

“now,” he kisses your forehead, hate still bubbling in him. “you’re mine, yeah?” you wanted to shake your head. wanted to punch him. wanted to…

“c’mon, say it and i’ll give you what you need.”

“i’m yours, i’m yours, i’m yours.” the moment you said it, jake felt something in him burn with ego. you’re his, you gave yourself to him. no going back now.

“good fucking girl.” he huffs, pulling out of you and causing you to cry, like seriously cry loud and he spreads your leg apart, hands wrapping on your waist before he helps you get on him.

your ass sets against his strong thighs and you moan when he easily slipped inside you.

“JAKE!” you yell when he pushes you down, bottoming out before grazing on your earlobe. “you’re mine, you get it? a part of you is mine and i own you.” you hate how his words made your insides clench.

tears are shed, heart in pain with no reason. “i hate you.” you tell him and he smiles, pulling you close to him and hugging you as he fucks himself in you. “i hate you too.” jake chuckles when you hide yourself on his chest.

“i’m gonna cum…” you whine, feeling the man holding you close. “i got you, i’m here.” at this point the hate is confusing because jake doesn’t know what he is feeling any more.

you let go, trusting the man you hate the most and coming. he was soon taking your step, manly whining and hiding himself to the crook of your neck. “shit.” he moans, loading himself in you.

he suddenly feels you pushing him away and hips buckling causing him to slip out of you. he was about to ask what was wrong until glaring at him with pure rage.

“this never happened.” you bark and watch him confused and try to understand. “what?” he innocently asks and you point at him then, down to his semi-hard cock. “this, me and you. we never did it.”

right then it hits him, jake gets that you don’t want this to get out of you two, it was like a dirty secret and jake felt annoyed. “you don’t want no one to know?” you’re quick to nod. “yes.” as much as he wants to show you off.

if you want this then he got you, he was gonna bite his tongue and sit back and you watch him hesitate before nodding.

“good.” you state and move from him to fetch on your loincloth. he only stares at you, the tension you both had a while ago long gone and his amber eyes following you as the mean man he was before disappeared. you don’t even spare him a look as you dress and leave the hut.

too confused and trying to process what just happened.

like + reblog is very appreciated but not pressured! i love each and everyone of you sm!

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ellievickstar · 2 months

Text

Maddening.

A/N: This one...this one hurt. yeah. uhm. Peace out ig find out for yourselves heheeheheh. hehehe, I'm not sorry. I got bored during math lesson.

Summary: Based on this idea I had. When the reader goes mad from what she is feeling from the bond while Azriel is unfaithful, how will everyone react when she is gone..?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Cheating!Azriel x reader, Brother!Rhysand x reader

Warnings: Unedited, angst, character death, a desk was thrown, Elain slander. kinda Azriel slander???? idk.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

It.

Was.

Maddening.

“Stop, stop it please,” You sobbed into the night, the shadows that were once something you loved swirling around you and tugging you in every direction. You knew. They knew. And right now you could feel his pleasure, his love for someone else, and you tried desperately to shut down your mind, to put up those walls of mental shields you had trained for years to do. But your daemati powers only amplified what was projected down this bond and it was maddening.

“PLEASE,” You yelled, your hand grasping at your hair as you pulled in frustration, your nausea rising in your throat as you felt his pleasure again. Again. Again.

RHYS.

Screaming into the night, reaching for that tether between your brother and Cassian and you.

CASS. RHYS. PLEASE.

One way or another you opened the drawer beside your bed and metal flashed against the moonlight.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

You choked on your sobs, your anguish flooding out your mind in every direction, you shakily grasped the hilt of the dagger as you raised it and brought it down in one fell swoop.

Little Starlight…?

Your brother’s voice rang in your mind, but as you felt the mating bond tear, relieving you of that constant wave of nauseating pleasure, as the shadows around you surged in their frenzy, warmth coating your abdomen, your hands and you slowly glanced down at the blood trickling out of you.

With what was left of your strength you tugged the dagger out, and blood gushed free flowing.

I’m sorry…

Was all you whispered back to your brother, and all you heard last was the door behind you being flung open, and the frantic voices of your brother and Cassian.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“Why…why would you,” Rhysand shakily dropped back into his chair, his office torn apart after what had happened with his sister. Cassian’s dark expression hung on his face, his shoulders low and even Nesta did not dare say another word. Feyre hung behind Rhys, her eyes darting around the room, at how damaged everything was, the extent of her mate’s grief and anger, his sorrow.

Azriel stood beside Elain, and Feyre was almost sick to her stomach at how strong the smell of sex was permeating off both of them.

Rhys’s eyes were dead and hollow as he looked up at someone he once considered his brother.

“WHY? She was…she was..”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

When they were 15….

You hastily jumped in front of Cassian and Azriel, your wings coming to materialise as you flared them and yelled, “Stop hurting them!” The kids who had been making fun of Azriel’s hands stumbled backwards, realising who they stood before, the princess of the Night.

“Don’t listen to them, I think your hands are beautiful,” You smiled shyly at Azriel as they ran away, glaring at the kids one last time for good measure. Cassian let out a cheer, swinging you around as he celebrated your ‘amazing victory that brought them to tears’.

And as you glanced Azriel’s way, you could not help but blush at his gaze, your attention soon stolen by your brother who had arrived and lectured you on being more careful when showing your wings.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Starfall before the mountain…

“Rhys….?” You knocked on the door of your brother’s office gently.

“Come in little starlight,” You heard your brother’s voice.

Entering the room, you paused as Cassian and Azriel’s gaze fell upon you, now feeling heat rise to your face at the way you were dressed.

Morrigan had decided to force you into a dark blue gown, the swoop of the neckline leaving enough for the imagination but also something to marvel at. The sleeves were off the shoulder — something you had taken to recently and she had noticed — and the skirt was floor length with a slit that did everything for your bare legs.

You had wanted to come here to get a second opinion from Rhys about the dress and any matching heels.

“You look gorgeous Little Starlight,” Giving you a thumbs up, Rhys beckoned you to come in.

Maybe I don’t need your opinion.

Just ask.

Does this dress paired with black or blue heels make your best friend want to screw me?

Blinking, your brother hummed, Cassian burst into laughter, clearly getting the message from Rhys while Azriel just looked at his two brothers confused.

Black heels, with a choker, from what I’ve heard Azriel is not tame.

I didn’t say him.

You didn’t need to.

That night Azriel had caved and confessed to you, even going so far as to informing you that you were his mate, a mating ceremony was held a week later and you had never been happier. And for a moment you had grasped onto the thought that this could be forever.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Rhysand swallowed as he started to recall all his memories from the past, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed into his palm once more, his head hung low as he hunched over his desk.

“Rhysand I apologise for what I have caused…” Azriel tried but was immediately cut off by Cassian.

“You only apologise now because of what happened. Where was your guilt when she was alone in her pain after the war? Where was your guilt when you were picking flowers with Elain,” He spat her name like it was poison making her visibly flinch, “Where was your guilt when you decided that your mate was no longer worthy of your affection?”

Azriel’s gaze hardened, “I might have chosen to bed Elain but that does not mean-”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS!” Cassian roared back, his shoulders were shaking, shaking, from how hard he started to cry.

Trying to calm the situation down, Elain stepped forward, "You can't say that just because they were mates it means he betrayed her by loving someone else."

Nesta scoffed at her own sister's words.

"Are you mad?" Nesta asked, disbelief coating every word, "Have we sheltered you so much that you have become this ignorant? Someone is dead because of your selfishness Elain, and you have decided to defend your actions?"

Elain rolled her eyes, "Don't be dramatic, Nesta, killing herself was just her being selfish thinking she was entitled to-" A knife cut across her cheek and the dagger landed against the wall, sinking deep enough to signal what could have happened to Elain's face.

"Speak again, girl," Amren hissed, "And I won't miss."

It was then that Rhysand spoke.

“My sister is dead,” His tone was flat, monotone, stiff to the point it made everyone in the room flinch, Mor who had been beside Nesta immediately placed a shield over the female, Feyre doing the same for herself as part of Rhysand’s desk went flying at Azriel’s head. No one protecting Elain beside him, not even Azriel himself.

Rhysand rose from his seat, his frantic pacing as he gripped at his hair, laughing, laughing as he sunk to the ground and screamed his next words. “My sister is dead and there is nothing, no amount of apologies, no amount of guilt, no amount of begging that can bring her back. DO YOU HEAR ME SHE IS DEAD!” Stilling, he finally raised his head, his hard gaze set on Azriel, his eyes still shining with tears.

“Get out of my court, Azriel.”

Panic shone in the shadow singer’s eyes. He stepped forward but was met with an invisible wall, Feyre. In Rhysand’s words Feyre had raised the wall to separate Azriel and Elain from the rest of the room, their only route was out…

“I never want to see you, or Elain again. Because if I do I will kill you. I will kill you and cauldron help me I will make you suffer. Get out of my court, find somewhere else who will accept someone who betrayed their mate.”

And with that Azriel and Elain were pushed out of Rhysand’s office, the hallway empty and dark save for both of them, and the only sound was Rhys’s anguished roar that followed.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: Sooooo how did you like it? :)

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #high lord rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar

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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

Text

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 22 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-He sets you on the vanity, the marble cool against your bare bottom. The contrast of his hot hands upon your thighs is maddening, and you whimper as he withdraws from you.

“Shh,” he says. “Do you want these undone? Or do you want me to touch you?”

The fact that you actually have to think for a moment before you answer makes his eyes shine.

“Untie me,” you answer as quickly as you can form words. By the way he looks at you, you’re afraid it wasn’t fast enough. There is a heavy pause between you, electric with the warring of your wills.

“Hmm.” You can’t stop yourself from making a sound when he leaves you, though he only takes a few steps to the tub, turning on the taps.

“I’ve had a long day,” he says, looking you over like he might like to eat you.

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, your heart in your throat.

This is it, you realize. No turning back now.

“Where were you?”

“You’ll find out later, if you’re a good girl.”

You’re not sure you like the sound of that.

He bats the door closed with a swing of his long arm before returning to you, standing between your spread legs. You are cold, in just the thin silk of the stupid nighty, and the line of his body so near yours warms you like a furnace. He takes your wrists in his sure hands, running his fingers over the ropes as he admires his handiwork upon you. Then he begins to pick at the first knot, and even he seems to have trouble undoing it at first.

You really hope he doesn’t have to cut it. You do not like the thought of a blade in his hand, that close to your skin.

“Is this…something you’re really into?” you dare ask, your heart in your throat.

“Shibari? I may have dabbled in my misspent youth,” he answers with a smirk, enjoying your uneasiness far too much. “Are you curious about it, kitten?”

“No,” you answer quickly, winning a pout that has no business on the lips of a grown ass man, but somehow is cute.

You understand it’s something some people enjoy, and that’s perfectly fine. Consenting people, who know what they’re getting into, and trust each other.

Sadly, that is not the boat you’re in right now.

“Shame. Maybe later, when you’ve come to trust me more.”

The fact that he knows you don’t trust him now is perhaps a little heartening. However, you decide you will not be bringing it up again.

When at last your restraints are reduced to a pile of red silk on the floor you cannot suppress your sigh. He runs his hands over the marks in your skin, seeming fascinated by the twisted patterns imprinted in your flesh.

“You alright?” he asks, rubbing to aid the circulation. Even just on your wrists, his touch is maddening.

You press your lips, warring with the desire to tell him off for it, or play it like no big deal. You decide to go with what is already obvious between you.

“I didn’t like that.”

He turns your face up to his with a hand that engulfs your jaw. “Then be a good girl, and I won’t have to do it again.”

“Be sweet to me, and I will.”

He narrows his eyes at you for your pithy insolence, but you can tell that he’s secretly pleased. When he lowers his head to kiss you, his tongue sweeping your mouth possessively, you hate to admit that you forget all about your aching wrists, and your self-respect, straining to reach more of his soft mouth as he uses his height to draw away.

He places your hands on his chest, looking at you expectantly. Realizing that he wants you to undress him, you try for the first button.

As it turns out, you really weren’t lying about the circulation in your fingers. Or maybe the lack of use throughout the day, something. It is not easy to undo the first button of his shirt. It is tiny, and the hole is tight, and you are ready to rip it off by the time you finally manage to slide it through.

“Don’t tear it,” he warns, as though he can read your thoughts.

You sigh, and concentrate on the second. It gets easier as you use your fingers more…and the prize you begin to unveil spurs you on. You realize you are biting your lip again when you taste blood in your mouth. Button by button, you unveil the marvel that lies beneath.

He stands still as a statue as you work, watching you with those eyes that miss nothing. You are not half as nervous as you should be, enjoying your task. When you pull out his shirt tails you finally begin to understand.

A myriad of scars covers his body from collar to below his waist line. Large and small, fresh and old. Cuts, and round puckered flesh that look like bullet wounds. Your heart drops to your feet, and you sense it as John stiffens under your scrutiny.

“Oh, honey...”

It hurts to look at. It hurts because you cannot fathom the pain he must have gone through, enduring all these injuries. He lets you touch him, tracing the lines of these old wounds. You meet his eyes, finding him vulnerable, before giving in to the urge to press your lips to his chest over an old scar that cuts across his pectoral. His eyes slide closed, and you think it might be the first time you've seen him surrender to anything.

You slide down from the counter, pressing against his body as you plant your feet on the floor. Wanting to see all of him, you circle him slowly, never once taking your hands off of him. The scars continue there, and across the expanse of his powerful shoulders are sinister looking tattoos. Some men get tattoos like this because they think it makes them look hard, but somehow you just know that they mean something in his world. Something...ominous. On top of the tattoos, the praying hands in the center of his back bears a horrible brand of an upside-down crucifix.

That might have hurt more than all the rest.

You rest your head in the divot of his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his muscled torso. It feels good, to nestle here. Better than it should.

“I wouldn't have run,” you tell him, and you feel a tremor run through his steadfast frame, his big hands covering yours just beneath his heart.

You make your way back to his front, and his sharp eyes follow your every movement.

“You would have had questions.”

“Of course I would have.”

You’re not a total idiot.

“You would have been scared.”

You just shake your head, knowing it was true. At that time, you wouldn't have had the sense. Even now, knowing what he was capable of... you still weren't half as scared of him as you should be.

His gaze upon you is surprisingly soft, as he considers your words. You dare think you’ve finally gotten through to this man, until his long fingers close around your jaw, holding your gaze upwards. “You’re not lying to me just to appease me, kitten?”

Rather than follow the wiser path of meek contrition, you give way to the indignant anger rising in your breast.

“You’re so worked up about me running from you, but you know what? You ran from me first. You didn’t even give me the chance to accept you.”

He narrows his eyes down at you, considering what you’ve said.

If you're lying, he has to punish you.

If you're telling the truth, then this whole thing blew up for nothing, and it's all on him.

Rather than hash this out, he dips his head to kiss you again, and he is not exactly gentle with you. Hungry for you, his tongue sweeps into your mouth, his teeth on your lips leaving you bruised. His hips pin you against the vanity, his erection pressing into you unforgivingly.

His fingers tangle in the lace skirt of your nightie, pulling it up. You fight him on instinct, and hear the silk tear as he jerks it from your grasp, defeating you so easily. He draws it up over your head with a flourish and throws it across the room, leaving you utterly bare to his gaze.

You are glad for the warm steam that is filling the room from the running bath. The tub is so massive it’s not even a quarter of the way full. Still, you try to cover yourself, but John grips your wrists in his big hands, twisting your arms behind you easily.

His eyes rake over you, and your nipples harden as though he’d touched them. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.”

He falls on you, releasing your hands to cup your face as he kisses you again without mercy. His touch is possessive, inexorable, unyielding, and his hands explore your body, the curve of your bare back and the swell of your breast. His thumb and forefinger pinching your nipple make your knees weak. He recedes like a crashing wave down your body, his mouth upon your chest, your breasts, his tongue wreaking sweet agony upon your aching tips.

You don't know how much more of this your pussy can take. You've never been this turned on, for this long, in your life.

You blink stupidly, when suddenly John is on his knees before you, looking up at you with his nose nuzzling the curls between your legs. That brief moment of eye contact electrifies you, before he guides your leg up over his shoulder, and licks your weeping slit. You lean back on the marble counter, and if not for his strong hands on your hips and your ass, you would have fallen, your legs shaking beneath you as he wrecks you with that devilish tongue.

He brings you so close to the edge with licks and little sucks, torturing you making circles with the tip of his tongue before taking mercy with broad, hard strokes, two of his long fingers sliding inside of you. That burning knot of pleasure begins to tighten within your womb. You clench on his fingers, your grip white-knuckling on the side of the vanity, so relieved for release on the horizon that you could cry.

That is when he leaves you, wiping his mouth on your belly as he stands before kissing you with the same punishing force as before. You whimper into his mouth, cheated of your pleasure, so pent up you could die.

“Hush,” he tells you, more gently than you would have expected from him in this unforgiving mood. He lifts you up onto the vanity again, easily as though you weigh nothing. With stars in your eyes, you watch as he undoes the zipper on his slacks with quick efficiency, pushing it all down to the floor and kicking it away.

You cannot help but stare, your lip caught between your teeth again. How many times a day can you think to yourself, This man is beautiful? His trim waist and powerful thighs covered in crisp dark hairs. The line of soft dark hair on his belly leads the eye downward…he is thick, and long, and even while you know you are in trouble, you cannot quell the dark thrill of knowing he is going to absolutely ruin you.

“Like what you see?” he asks, pulling you from your trance. He pumps himself up and down a few times, spreading the precum leaking from his tip.

Unable to find words in that moment, you nod.

“What was that, sweetheart?” His big hands on your thighs pull you to the edge of the vanity top, his body wedged between your legs.

You make a frustrated sound between your teeth. “Yes, I find you very fucking beautiful, Mr. Wick.”

He offers you a cruel little laugh before catching your lips with his, his thick tip hovering at your weeping entrance. You try to move closer to him, hungry for the stretch and burn of his cock entering your body, but he holds you fast.

There is a surprising vulnerability in his next words, uttered quietly against your ear. “You want me?”

“Yes.”

God help you, but it’s the truth.

You give a strangled moan as he pushes inside of you, writhing from his cock and his teeth in your shoulder. The sound he makes is more animal than human as he works himself inside.

“Even your pussy fights back,” he huffs with strained laughter, easing himself in and out. “God, baby, you feel so good.”

Your fingernails dig into his shoulder as your body protests the invasion half-way.

“Wait…”

“Can’t…” he informs you raggedly. “Breathe for me, kitten, I know you can take me.”

“It’s been a long time,” you admit between a deep inhale, trying to adjust. A long time, and to be frank, none of your previous experiences with men prepared you for him.

“How long?” he demands, as though this is information he desperately needs to know.

“Over a year.”

Long before you met him.

He veritably growls his approval at this figure, and if you weren’t so cock-drunk you would have rolled your eyes at the fragility of the male ego. As it is…you can hardly think straight at all.

“That’s my good girl,” he rasps against your skin as he slides deeper and deeper inside. “So wet for me. So good.”

You cry out as he bottoms out against your cervix. He looks down between you, fascinated by the sight of his body buried in yours to the hilt.

“That hurt?”

“A little.”

“Sorry.” You can hardly believe it when he kisses you with contrition. “I’ll try…” He thrusts again, slower this time, and it makes you see stars. “To be gentle.” He presses his thumb to your lips, and you open for him, sucking and leaving a trail of saliva as he withdraws. When he circles that thumb over your clit you mewl like the needy little kitten you are for him, your thighs tightening upon his narrow hips. He moves for you at just the right speed, teasing you with the thickness of his shaft in all the right places inside. Your walls grip him with abandon, desperate for the pleasure he’s been dangling before you for days.

“You wanna cum, pretty kitten?”

“Yes,” you pant, so desperate for release. Your tight little pussy clenches around his cock in answer, and he sucks in breath through his teeth.

“Then you have to say something for me. And you have to mean it.”

Fuck.

“What?” You can hardly remember your own name, much less form complicated sentences as he fills you to bursting, merciless and so very wonderful, his thumb working magic on your clit.

“Say you’re mine.”

He glides inside you, stretching you more somehow, but removes his hand to grip your hip.

When you meet him with silence he kisses your neck, nipping at your skin as punishment. There will be marks all over your chest and neck tomorrow.

It doesn't matter.

Not like you're going anywhere.

Not like anyone will see you.

You keen, craving more pressure, more friction, pulling him deeper with legs wrapped around his back, bringing you so close to where you need him. You think you can come on his cock, whether he touches you or not. It would be a victory, to prove that your pleasure needn't only come at his own whim.

Knowing all too well, he denies it to you, holding himself just shy of it.

“Say it,” he demands. “Say you're mine, and I'll give you everything you want.”

“Even freedom?” you dare ask as he strums at you again, a master at keeping the fire at just the right height, making you feel so good, but never quite enough to make you cum.

You don't know how you have the cheek, with his clever fingers between your legs frying your brain.

This man was made to torture you, it seems. He shifts, so that he is making shallow strokes that only barely stimulate you. You scream a little in frustration. It actually makes him smile.

“Did you know that ninety percent of women cannot orgasm on penetration alone?”

“You don't have to be so fucking smug about it.”

“You need me.”

“Do I?”

You reach for your clit, hoping he will be distracted by watching you. Most men would, but not John. He is a man of focus, determination, sheer will. He catches your hand with a warning growl, twisting it behind you.

Pulling you closer, he buries himself as deep as he can, his face buried in your hair. It doesn’t hurt this time. It feels like he makes you whole, and you feel the bass growl he makes against your ear in the depths of your soul.

“Please? I can’t wait anymore, baby girl. I want to feel you cum with me.” There is a new desperation in his words, and you know he must be close.

“Then let me cum,” you answer, hardly recognizing your own voice. “I want it. I want you.”

“Say you’re mine.”

You are tempted. Boy, are you. You want it so badly your legs tremble, your back arched tight as a bow. A tear rolls down your cheek, because fuck you if a part of you doesn't want to say it. Not just because it's the only way you're going to get to orgasm, and he’s driving you insane. But because...you know it would make him so fucking happy.

You’re afraid if you say it aloud, it might be true.

You are so close, but he is a master of bringing you just to the edge before backing away. In that moment, you hate him as much as you love him. You know, you just know, that if you give in to this possessive madness so soon, there will be no going back. You will be so fucked, and not in the way you want to be.

You just shake your head.

“Go to hell.”

It is, decidedly, the wrong answer, of course. His eyes darken, and he ruts inside you out of spite, spilling himself with a growl and his teeth in the curve of your neck. You feel the scalding hot rush inside you, the impossible fullness. It is good, and you are this close as he shudders against you, but in the end it’s just not enough.

You keen miserably as his slick length slides from you, leaving you filled with his cum, utterly wrecked yet still unsatisfied. He wipes his tip across your belly, marking you.

Men.

“You are the stubbornest fucking woman I’ve ever met,” he grumbles low in your ear.

It sends a shiver across your skin.

You have to try twice before you find your voice.

“Thank you.”

He actually laughs, a harsh, disbelieving bark as he shakes his head at you. You watch as he goes to turn off the bath taps, the tub finally full, thoroughly enjoying the view despite how he’s left you. He steps into the water, turning so that he can see you with his arms on the rim of the tub.

You take some pleasure in the fact that he doesn’t look quite satisfied either.

Though your legs barely work, you slide down to the floor with a glare, intending to use the shower instead, away from him. You feel his seed dripping from you, down your thighs in warm thick rivulets. He didn’t ask if you are on birth control, and you’re grateful for your IUD, feeling like you’re armed with a secret weapon. If he means to bind you further to him with bearing his child…he’ll be disappointed. You decide right then that’s a card you’ll play close to your vest.

You take one step towards the shower before he makes a sound of warning low in his throat, and you freeze in your tracks. “In here,” he directs, and you close your eyes with wariness. Of course, that was the deal you’d made with the devil, and he’d warned you not to break an agreement with him.

He’s going to torture you more, you reckon, with his mouth or his fingers or maybe even that magnificent cock again, and you just don’t think your body can take it.

You’re not sure your heart can take it, either.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Resigned to your fate, you go, sinking into the warm water. It would have been wonderful, you know, if your every nerve had not already been on fire.

You hover up to your neck in the deep tub, trying to relax and succeeding only by half. “Come here,” says your beautiful tormentor, holding out his hand to you. The invitation is deceptively gentle this time. Mr. Wick, the undisputed King of Hot and Cold.

“You are such an asshole,” you inform him as you take his hand, letting him pull you into the circle of his arms against his chest.

“So you tell me,” he says with his lips against your temple, his arm around your waist holding you to him. “You might be a tiger kitten, but you’re still just a kitten.” He almost sounds proud about it. “I’m going to win in the end.”

You’re afraid he’s right, but you’re not ready to surrender just yet.

#john wick #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #yandere

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nincompoopydoo · 2 months

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hi i have a req for your vday celebration for this line 'have you no compassion for my poor nerves? ’ for theseus scamander!! going on a trip with newt looking for some new mythical creature to draw and you somehow get injured and theseus gets worried so like angst + fluff pls

IN SEARCH OF A GRECIAN BEAST

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Reader WORD COUNT: 1.1k SUMMARY: As you, Theseus, and Newt find yourselves on a secluded Grecian beach along the Aegean Sea, an endeavor unfolds to seek out a Hippocampus. However, plans don't turn out as expected. A/N: An angsty yet light-hearted fic in a way. Hope you guys love this lil Theseus one-shot~ WARNINGS: near drowning. angst. Newt literally has no compassion when he’s excited about his beasts lol. PROMPT: “Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?” [from this prompt list] MASTERLIST

“Pray, Theseus, allow yourself a respite! Quit moaning and come with us,” you whine with an exaggerated, sarcastic tone as you trudge down the rocky slope that leads to a stretch of golden sand. Newt is way ahead, feet already on the sand as he scuttles across the rugged coastline that looks upon the Aegean Sea.

Theseus huffs at your words, watching the way your linen top billows in the sea breeze, gleaming under the scorching summer sun. He decides he has no other choice than to follow begrudgingly. He stumbles on his feet, shells crunching at contact, and sees you looking back at him, eyes bright. The curve of your smile goes unnoticeable.

“I thought we were meant to be on holiday,” he calls out to you and his brother.

You merely laugh, and Newt responds without turning back, “Nobody mentioned a holiday, Theseus.”

Theseus scoffs, “Well, I presumed it was, considering you invited me to Greece. Of all places!”

Without warning, you abruptly halt, swiftly turning to face him.

“We find ourselves on this beautiful, secluded Grecian beach, and you're complaining?” You gesture to your surroundings in big movements, arms moving in sweeping motions.

You’re right, he’s being dramatic. Perhaps he finds himself a little sceptical towards your shenanigans with Newt. How you were always closer to his brother than him, even though he never dared admit it to himself that he wished it was the other way around.

Theseus is silent when you fix him with a stern gaze, nearing him. “All I’m saying is, you should loosen up a little.��

There it is. That glint in your stare. It’s hopeful.

Theseus realised long ago that he would do anything for you and be anything you wanted him to be.

“I am loose. I can be loose.”

Your laugh comes off more like a scoff. You don’t believe him one bit. “Right.”

Then, your fist connects with his arm. It’s playful, just like old times. Theseus winces, his palm instinctively rubbing his bicep as he shoots you a maddened look. Despite the irritation etched on his face, the subtle curve on his lips betrays it.

You laugh again. It’s light and sends his heart thrumming faster than ever.

“Come on –”

"Look!" newt exclaims, his voice ringing out excitedly. “Over there.” He points toward the shore with the widest grin Theseus has ever seen.

You immediately grip Theseus’ wrist, pulling him along as you dash towards Newt.

“Hippocamps,” you breathe out, merely a whisper, eyes trained on the clear waters beyond.

Theseus turns to you and clocks on your wide-eyed gaze. Your mouth hangs slightly agape in utter awe as you take in the scene unravelling before you. Glints of deep blue swirl under the crystal waters, their scales glistening like scattered glitter under the Grecian sun.

Then, you release your hold on his hand.

“I’m going in.”

The brothers snap their heads to you, “What?”

You turn to Theseus, “I know these creatures better than anyone. You know that.” Then, your gaze shifts to Newt, “Even more than you, Newt.”

A beat. He sees that you’re now looking at him expectantly as if you need his assurance. That he trusts you. He really doesn’t know why you need it.

“Just… be careful.”

You purse your lips and nod. “I will.”

The waves lap rhythmically as you approach the waters cautiously, gentling wading through and towards the Hippocampi. The water rises to your waist. You catch a hint of a tail under the sunlight, iridescent and reflecting the ocean's blue and green hues.

You take a deep breath – the key is to be calm. Extremely calm. You extend your palm, luminous kelp in your grasp, hoping to lure the creature.

Then, its head emerges from the waters, a horse for a head. The creature curiously eyes the kelp in your hand as you watch in controlled excitement as the others drift closer. You cannot help but smile.

Yet, something beneath you rumbles. It’s so slight that you almost miss it. But it sends a rippling uneasiness to your surroundings that it alarms the creatures. The air shifts, and before you know it, the Hippocampi sense an unseen threat and quickly disappear into the ocean.

Your smile drops.

You see it, a sleek form of green drifting in the depths beneath you. It glides through the water with stealth.

Ashore, Theseus senses your concern. “Something’s wrong.”

Then, he sees you turn to them with panicked eyes.

Abruptly, the water erupts with a powerful surge, and a beast rises from the depths and leaps into the air. Its mane of waterweed cascades with its movement.

It’s a Kelpie.

Newt and Theseus watch in stunned silence.

As the Kelpie vanishes beneath the waves, you’re gone.

Theseus’ heart drops.

Instinctively, Theseus calls your name, charging towards the place you stood moments before. In his sprint, he throws a quick, urgent glance over his shoulder at Newt, who scrambles closely behind, his expression etched with mirrored exasperation.

“Why in Godric’s name is a Kelpie doing here?!”

“That’s a good question –”

Theseus isn’t listening anymore. He can’t think right now, his heart pounding fiercely. Each step intensifies the knot in his stomach.

He finds himself slicing through the waves and propelled beneath the surface. His vision goes blur momentarily; elusive silhouettes move around him like drifting shadows. But as his eyes begin to take focus, he sees Newt, a feet away, seemingly going after the Kelpie.

Theseus whirls around, eyes scanning his surroundings.

He sees you, conscious. You’re looking at him with wide eyes, struggling to stay afloat.

Theseus closes in, and he reaches out, arms enveloping you. With a forceful pull, you are brought to the surface, head heavy against his chest. Your sharp gasp pierces the air, it resonates loudly, but it settles a sense of relief in Theseus.

As you’re pulled to shore, you’re induced into a coughing fit, water forcefully expelling from your lips. Theseus hovers above you, his hand on the back of your head, lifting it from the ground in an attempt to ease your choking. His other palm rests against your cheek firmly.

He says your name, his voice laced with reassurance, yet his gaze lingers with a perpetual panic as he hovers above you, the sunlight casting a halo through his tousled hair. Theseus looks truly distressed.

“Have you no compassion for my poor nerves?!” he exclaims, exasperated in all his dramatic and uptight glory.

“Just… trying to keep you on your… toes, that’s all,” you manage to croak out.

Theseus's laugh passes off as an exhale and grins, shaking his head. Quickly, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You instantly feel your cheeks start to burn.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

You just smile. “No promises.”

Then, laughter echoes in the distance. Both of you turn to find Newt emerging from the shore, eyes bright.

"That was incredible!"

#theseus scamander x you #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander #theseus scamander imagine #crimes of grindelwald #fantastic beats and where to find them #theseus x reader

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momentomori24 · 2 months

Text

I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #this post took me ages to finish and really grinds my gears #i would not survive on that hellscape with people like this holy shit #really hope this situation turns out for the best #i wrote this while i was frustrated and sleep deprived so apologies for unnoticed grammar i'll correct it later #i'll be keeping my eyes peeled for any updates on this situation this is actually getting scary

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rowretro · 2 months

Text

𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙

✧warnings: angst, blood, violence (i'll make this a series if u want)

♡synopsis: Nishimura Riki, the boy your parents would warn you to never even dare to look at. He's dangerous, he rips the flesh of naive girls and eats them alive, many girls heard such stories, and did not dare to approach him, no matter how handsome he was. He's a beast, but only one girl approached him with an endearing smile. Y/n, the princess.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

Nishimura Riki, the most feared beast, even by the King, he was richer than the richest, stronger than the strongest, and lived in a large dark, fancy mansion, almost castle-like. Y/n was running through that very forest one day. Smiling as she chased after the butterfly that flutterred into a dangerous distance.

The princess was unaware of what dangers lurked within the forest. Riki watched from the window, a girl in a white dress, running after a butterfly, just behind her snuck blood thirsty vampires, much like him, but weaker. In his eyes he was no different from the stunning, delicate flowers that bloomed in the forest. She's so carefree, so innocent, so... beautiful.

The girl pouted as the butterfly flew out of sight, only then, as she turned around, she realized she was in an unfamiliar place, her feet on a wooden bridge, and just underneath she could see the clear water that had tadpoles swimming around. Beautiful lotus flowers, white, pink and peach, mother nature's art surrounding her.

Suddenly she was pinned against a tree, her eyes meeting the dark, dangerous eyes of Nishimura Riki, fuck she was falling for him already, his plump, kissable lips, his mesmerising beauty, when she saw the red stains that grew on her white dress, she only then realized, He stabbed someone. Y/n turned to her side and saw a bloodthirsty vampire, choking as he died beside her.

"What brings you here princess?!... Do you know what it's taking me to not eat you right now?..." Riki asked, his deep, yet somewhat soft voice has her full attention. She tilted her head snickering softly "Well why on earth would you eat me?" the girl asked as Riki scoffed "You don't know?!.... I'm Nishimura Riki." He simply said, expecting some sort of fear from her. Though she just smiled. "I know that silly, I've seen so many pictures of you, but they really didn't show how pretty you truly are..." the girl said mesmerized as Riki rolled his eyes.

That night, she couldn't sleep, a smile planted on her face as she relived that moment over and over, he was beautiful, so cute, in the eyes of hers. Heck she didn't even care for that butterfly anymore, she just wanted him. So she decided to visit him. Her feet were quiet as she snuck through the castle.

"That worthless bitch? find a rich man and I can marry her off to him. Such an annoying child fuck she should have died like her mother fucking mother." She suddenly heard the king, her father say. It was nothing new to her, his hurtful words and actions. She just ignored it, climbing off of her balcony. The girl ran through the forest, not one bit bothered by the beasts she may have triggered. her long night gown barely protecting her from the icy air due to how thin the material was.

Riki was simply in his mansion, a book at hand as a glass of whiskey sat on the table beside him. When the familiar scent hit his nose, the male was beyond mad. What was she doing out late at a time like this. He teleported right in front of her, the girl's face almost hitting his chest. "You again?! are you trying to get killed?!" the male asked, maddened as the girl smiled up at him, suddenly hugging him tightly.

"I couldn't sleep... you're on my mind 24/7... So you have to help me sleep!" the girl exclaimed as Riki facepalmed. "You're crazy. Go back home." he warned her as she stared up at him. Riki sighed. He couldn't walk you back to your castle, nor could he let you go back alone. "Fine. you can only spend this one night in my home." Riki simply said as he walked to his mansion, the girl jogging after him.

Upon arriving at the mansion, the girl frowned. There was little to no light. "Im going to freshen up. there's spare clothes in that room. my sister used to live here so her clothes will be there" He coldly explained before going upstairs. The girl just smiled at him.

Riki descended the stairs, his eyes landing on your figure tidying up some of his mess, stacking up the scattered books, and lighting a few candles to brighten his house. Only now he's seeing the intricate designs on his walls, the beautiful flooring, and many more eye-catching details he never saw before due to how dark the room was.

"Hmm... still not tired I assume?" Riki asked as y/n smiled up at him. "Nope... Your house looks so pretty, why do you keep it dark all the time?" she asked as Riki shrugged. "Just couldn't be botherred... guess I should have more lighting around huh" he said, looking around the mansion. Just then, he saw the girl run to one of the windows, her eyes, awestruck as she stared at the view before her. "what are they?..." she asked, her eyes never leaving the constellation before her.

"Oh they're fire flies... you've never seen fire flies before?" Riki asked, tilting his head as the girl shook her head. "Never, I always thought they weren't real... you know, like Unicorns?" The girl pointed out as Riki knelt beside her, also staring out the window. "It's very late princess... you should consider getting some rest..." Riki simply said as he fixed the ruffly strap of her night gown. "I can't sleep... m not tired" the girl said as Riki stared at her.

He stood up, pulling her up before softly pushing her toward his chest, one arm around his waist, as he slipped her hand on his shoulder. Their fingers intertwining as he started dancing, the girl following his soft yet smooth steps, his chin rested upon her head as he planted a faint soft kiss that she didn't know. "well would you look at that? the beast is dancing with me~" the girl chimed as Riki rolled his eyes. "Just fall asleep already." He coldly said as the girl just smiled, her head resting against his chest.

The morning rolled in and Riki gave the girl his coat "I'll walk you to safety, you walk home from there kay?" Riki simply said as the girl pouted. "I don't wanna go home... I wanna stay with you." She said as Riki glared at her. "Stop being clingy Goddamit. just go back to your palace and don't you ever come back to this forest... I won't save you if you dare do something like that again." Riki warned, his dark eyes piercing into hers as he softly pushed her forward.

Upon arriving at the palace, the king yanked the girl's hair, harshly pushing her to the cold marble flooring. His sword in its case, as he stared down at the princess, angered. "Where did you go last night?!!! what, now you're 18 you think you can go sleep around behind my back?!.... wow I raised a whore, you're just like your mother aren't you?!" The man yelled, as he continuously hit the princess with the sword, her cries of pain ignoring, screams for help being ignored by the maids, who felt guilty inside.

For the first time in his life, Riki cried. His hand clutching onto his shirt, as he let the tears roll down his cheeks. He misses her. Why can't he ever have something to himself? why can't he be happy? Words can't explain how much he needed her. If one asks what true love is, he'd say it's him and y/n... but do flowers bloom on dark, cold surfaces? would the world ever accept the beauty and the beast's love? Riki's tears mixed with his own blood when an arrow was shot in his direction....

"LET ME GO SEE HIM!" the girl cried and screamed, as her nails clawed at the door, fingers bloody, body bruised, as she found herself locked in the dark basement. She cried and cried, the sounds of her heart wrenching sobs filling the room as she hugged her knees, rocking back and forth. why did love have so many challenges?... why did HER love have to have so many barriers? they're clearly made for each other... so why must there be a blood bath to put a forceful end to something so strong, something so real.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

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hungharrington · 11 months

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*clears throat* okay!!!!

but imagine the next time you two are apart (probably a day or two but it’s enough), imagine you decide to be the one that jumps him and kisses him all over and make sure you’re the first to say how much you missed him? you use his “how dare you get prettier” discourse on him and kiss him first and call him sweet names before you drag him home. poor boy would be flustered and with his cheeks on fire / pink and breathless and i bet he wouldn’t be able to form words 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

oh just y e s - 1.4k, gn!reader i believe, this fic describes a blowjob and as always, MDNI this entire blog is 18+

He's not expecting it. It makes it that much better.

When you sneak down the aisles of the Family Video and spot a certain ass, in a pair of tight jeans that should be illegal, bent over to reach the bottom shelf, your heart sings. You let Steve straighten up, watching him closely as he dusts off his hands and then places them on his hips, leaning into one. Classic Steve pose. You can't wait any longer.

You strike.

Striding down the aisle as quickly as you can, you reach out and grab his shoulders, using the momentum to propel yourself up and cling onto his back - like a piggyback he's given you a thousand times before. Steve startles, but even then, he catches you. Hands come up under your thighs and his face is holds a smidge of that bitchiness you love.

It wipes away in an instant when he realises who it is.

"Baby!" He exclaims, his grip on your skin tightening. Excitement lights up his features- softening when you grapple closer, kiss him on the cheek, and say, "surprise!" with your best grin.

"I thought you weren't—“

"—Coming back til the weekend?" You interrupt. You smother kisses along his jawline, anywhere you can. You're beginning to feel a bit breathless by the time you pull back to speak again and Steve's eyes look oddly misty in their fondness. "Missed you too much. Came back early."

Steve lets go of your thighs and without his support, you sink down his back sluggishly, hands still tangled around his neck. He's turning quickly, his hands seeking out to tug you closer. They slide up along your jaw, cupping it sweetly. "Can't kiss you when you're back there, c'mere,"

It's maddening, the way he kisses you. Plush lips capture yours, soft and sweet, his fingers creeping along your jawline. His fingertips slide into your hair, tightening to pull you even closer.

When he pulls back, his pink cheeks give away his delight. You beat him to the punch on his own spiel. A frown knits together your brows as you reach up to hold his face, palms to his blushing cheeks.

"Hold on," You say. Steve's face flickers with concern. You turn his face in your hand, side to side, just an inch. "I thought we agreed you weren't going to get any prettier?"

Steve's cheeks darken from pink to crimson and try as he might, he can't hide his giddy smile with you holding his face between your hands.

"Stop," he chuckles, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. You shake your head and try to deepen your frown; your smile peeks through.

"I'm serious, Steven—"

"—Not my real name—"

"—I thought you were gonna tone it down, pretty boy. " You pout, reaching up to dot a peck on his nose. Steve looks at you unbearably soft, his grip growing slack as you continue with a grave nod. "You're doing a number on my heart."

"You're being dramatic." Steve says and it makes you grin wider.

"You love it."

It only takes one disgusted bleh! from Robin, who witnessed most of your strangely heartwarming reunion, to send Steve home early. Steve doesn't push his luck, just sheds his vest and blows a kiss to her as he leads the way out the door. You call your thanks over your shoulder, hands on Steve's shoulders, ushering him with a quick little go-go-go!

He doesn't ask why you're in any kind of hurry. There's no need to ask. When your back into your apartment, the door snicking shut behind you, you're upon him. Hands pressed against his chest like a panther sinking its claw into its prey.

Your lips find his skin, hot and heavy kisses along his neck and you can feel the way he pulls you close, pressing you up against him. You can already feel the shape of his hardness against your thigh. Desire flares hot in your tummy.

Steve huffs a breathy laugh, "Always against the door, huh?"

"Can't help it," you whine between your kisses. You give his neck a little nip, then soothe it sweetly with your tongue, basking in the sigh Steve gives. "Missed you."

"I-" He inhales sharply when your teeth scrape in just the right way. "Fuck, I missed you too, honey."

Your hand creeps on his chest, traveling down, down, til you can feel the waistband on his jeans — and then you keep going, fingers wrapping around the shape of him. Steve gives a soft groan, his hips pushing forward in your hand.

"Can I show you?" You say, putting on that sweet voice that just kills Steve every time. Peering up at him through your lashes, you watch his breath catch and his cheeks stay that glorious ruby red colour. "Will you let me show you how much I missed you, Stevie?"

You pair your words with a soft rub of his cock and Steve moans softly, eyes screwing shut. You're already sinking to your knees by the time he's remembering you've asked him a question. "Yes, yes, please, yes, you can."

The zipper scrapes audibly as you pull it down, shuffling clothes enough just to free his cock. Your mouth salivates just a little at seeing it again, even if you had only been gone for a total of three days. It's already leaking for you.

"Oh," you say softly, your hand wrapping around the girth of him. You move slowly, gently, thumb coming up to rub over his slit and spread his precum. A string of curses and moans escape Steve's throat. His hands clench tightly at his side. "So hard for me already?"

You're teasing him, just a bit. It works exactly as you planned — Steve shivers, his cock giving a little twitch in your hand. His voice sounds strained already when he speaks, "Didn't —ah— didn't touch myself when you- you were gone."

Surprise blooms in your chest and sets a fire in your belly, thinking of him waiting for you when you were away. Determination licks at its heels. You give his cock a more purposeful squeeze, adoring how he whines in response and lean up and give the tip a kiss, then a soft lick.

He moans again, raspy and long as you wrap your lips around it, your mouth hot and wet and perfect. You drool on his cock, letting yourself get it soaked as you suck on it gently — not taking him as far as you can. Teasing. Steve’s breathing is beginning to sound jagged, little whiny noises seeping into every breath.

You pull off with a slurp and use the slickness of your saliva to jerk him, your hand twisting perfectly on his cock to pull the most sweet and pathetic little noises out of your boyfriend. Your pace is nearly cruel how slow it is. Steve doesn't even dare complain, especially not when you whisper his name so he opens his eyes— and he sees you looking at up him from your knees. Beautiful.

"S’missed you so much," you say again, rubbing over his slit as you do, and Steve feels that familiar flare of heat in his cheeks as he chokes out a whine. You nuzzle against his cock, soft lips giving the smallest of kitten licks to the head of it and Steve can’t help it, he keens, giving a loud whimper. His lust is equally entangled with adoration.

"Missed this cock too," you say, beginning to pump your hand a little faster. Steve’s breath catches. "Missed hearing all the noises you make when you cum, Stevie— y'gonna let me hear them again?"

"Yeah," He whines loudly, hips chasing your grip, fucking his cock into warm, wet hand. It feels fucking amazing. Pleasure claws at his chest, rising rapidly.

He doesn’t even sound like himself as the next string of words pours from his mouth, all high and breathy— he must be so wound up from being away from you, "Yes, yes, gonna- fuck, gonna give you anything— anything you want."

Slowing your hand, there's only a moment for Steve to whimper before you take him back in your mouth and start sucking, cheeks hollowing. Your hand on his cock trails up, giving a soft rake of nails along his thighs before giving a soft rub on his balls.

Steve shudders violently, a gaspy moan warbling out his chest and the only warning you get is his hushed whimpery whispers of, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," before he's spilling down your throat with a loud moan.

It drips from your mouth as you pull off, giving yourself some air as you take in the state of your boyfriend. It makes your feel down right carnal the way his looks slumped against the door, cheeks still coloured pink and pleasure written all over him.

You give him a minute before taking his softening cock back in your mouth, soft slow motions — Steve seizes up and whimpers loudly, hands reaching to pull you off him.

"Sensitive, christ," He pants a bit, gazing down at you. "S'too much, sweetheart."

You pout, turning to give his palm a little peck and give a little huff, then repeat your words from earlier. "Just missed you, baby. Won't you let me show you how much I missed you?"

Before you, Steve's cock twitches. You smile. It's going to be a long night.

#have.... this <3 #i would indeed like to pin that man to a door let him know i missed him and then give him a blowie that melts his brain #jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x gn reader smut #steve harrington x gn reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #wait this actually starts off with fluff #lol in that case i will not be surprised if she flops #ah well! tehe

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inhuman-obey-me · 4 months

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Hello! I want to say that I love your guys work and I’m always excited every time you post something. This is actually my first time requesting so, I would like a barbatos + mc 🚪thank you! Keep up the good work and I can’t wait for your world-building and analysis posts!

Ahhh thank you so much!!! ;//u//; We hope that this can at least somewhat live up to expectations especially as your first time requesting here!!

"I feel a sickness for a home I've never been." - Barbatos/MC

Your fingertips brush the intricate pattern on the door before you, a strange sensation running across your skin as if something was trying to cocoon you in its embrace and pull you in.

“Careful, dear.”

Barbatos’ voice in your ear nearly makes you jump, your body moving quickly to turn around and face him. He’s amused at your reaction, clear in the way his lips subtly upturn in a smirk.

“Don’t scare me like that,” you scold, looking back over to the door. It was one of the several in Barbatos’ room, a labyrinth that seemed to slightly shift every time you entered. “...What’s on the other side of this door?”

“Always so curious,” Barbatos murmurs, his gaze briefly lingering on you before turning to the door in question. “Another world, another timeline, another universe. It depends on the day, or my mood. Wherever I will it to go, it will lead.” He pauses, turning back to you with an inquisitive look. “...But you already knew that. What is it about this one that has you so enraptured?”

“Well,” you hesitate, controlling the urge to reach for the door again. “I…I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s as if I feel a sickness for a home I’ve never been. Another me, another life.” You pause to wonder about the timelines you’ve jumped, of where you no longer existed. Then, quietly, you ask, “...Have you ever felt that way?”

He doesn’t answer at first, but you can feel his dark eyes weighing on you. After a moment, he takes a few steps towards the glass wall, looking out into the Devildom night. His horns and tail have an almost iridescent sheen to them as he stands there encased in moonlight, and it is in that moment of ghostly beauty you are reminded of all that he is.

“I do not have a home outside of this one.”

“Is this your true timeline, then?” You dare to ask, having always pondered what it meant to be a demon that held the very threads of space-time in his grasp. How easy it would be for him to jump from one reality to the next.

“True timeline?” He echoes with a hint of mirth. “I suppose you could say that.”

Furrowing your brows, you move towards him. “What do you mean, you suppose?”

“Insistent tonight, aren’t we?” There’s a hint of wariness in his tone, and you wonder if you might be pushing too much. He sighs, but continues, “I could not tell you where I truly came from, even if I wanted to. Many years have passed, and I’ve lived many lives. But, this is the only place that has felt like home.”

You know you might be pushing your luck, but there are so many questions on the tip of your tongue, so you step closer to him and gingerly take his hand in yours. He stiffens for a moment, but soon relaxes into your touch.

“What does home feel like to you?” You ask.

Barbatos hums, and you can see he’s trying to find the right words. “...It’s constant, the droning of the universe. If I’m not careful, I can hear the many discordant sounds of space-time all at once, and it’s enough to drive someone mad.” A somber chuckle. “After some…particular events, I found myself facing a harsh reality. Consequences of my actions.” You remember him once speaking of atonement. “I realized what I had to do, even if it meant dealing with those maddening sounds and feelings that haunt my every step. I was prepared for it.”

He then motions to the world outside, and you swear you can see slivers of silver running through his fingers. “And yet, here is where that cacophony of the universe turned into a melody, and I knew then that this is where I belonged. Serving Lord Diavolo, assisting in making his vision come true. Stewarding a brighter future for the Three Realms alongside the others. I found my purpose.”

There is so much more you want to ask, but before anything leaves your lips you find your gaze locking with his, and a warmth spreads through your chest at the affection held in his eyes.

“And more recently, I heard the melody like never before. It sounds more complete, more sweet.” He lifts your hand in his, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “And that’s because of you.”

#obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #om! barbatos #obey me nightbringer #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #4000 follower celebration #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos #cries i'm so rusty these drabbles are really making me realize that orz

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bbabymesssss · 5 months

Text

Frustrating

"You go too fast for me, Jophiel. There's only one place I truly want to see again, and you can't take me there."

Jophiel dropped onto the steering wheel, letting out a frustrated sigh. The conversation had ended worse than he had imagined.

Trembling, he looked at the lighter the owl had given him. Despite everything, he had given it to him.

He thought about how curious happiness was and how it could vanish from someone's body in a matter of seconds. How everything around him felt warm with Azazel's presence, with that talk where he had confessed in the most adorable way possible his desire to be called angel by him. And how the cold had taken over the car at the same moment the owl had said those words before leaving, leaving him completely alone.

Frustrating, was the best way he could define all that. It was frustrating that so many of his conversations ended that way, that they left him with a strange feeling in his body. It was frustrating to feel that there was never enough for the demon, that he never found the exact right words, that something was always missing.

"Shit."

Maybe it's that he couldn't compare to the faith that Azazel still maintained. Of course not, how could he compare himself to God? How stupid.

But he couldn't help but feel mad. It was pretty obvious that Azazel wanted to return to heaven, even if he didn't say so verbatim. That same heaven that once rejected him, that had caused him so much suffering and that, even nowadays, that same suffering only complicated his life. Hurt him.

He had always questioned certain ideals of heaven, even if it was risky to do so from his position. He was aware that he was not the best example of an angel. It was increasingly difficult for him to understand what had pushed Heaven to expel Azazel.

What sense did it make to abandon someone so devout, with a purity that bordered on the impossible. With an innate goodness that was dangerous to the owl himself and a faith that was eating away and devouring him day by day?

How did they even dare to turn off a light like his?

If anyone deserved a place in heaven, it was certainly him. His angel. His light. And even then, he had fallen and had to live with it for the rest of his existence. With that sorrow. With that sadness in his eyes, his incessant nervousness, his words. The burns on his hands. Oh, the burns.

They must have hurt, right?

He promised to himself that if God didn't protect him, he would. How was he going to protect him from himself?

How frustrating. Azazel was frustrating. The love he felt for him was incredibly frustrating.

Not that it mattered, of course. He was going to love him either way.

Jophiel asked himself if love always was like that. Exasperating, infuriating, confusing, maddening, all at once. And at the same time, so tender, so sweet and warm.

Even now, when he was feeling so miserable and defeated, his mind couldn't stop spinning around the fact of how devilishly adorable Azazel was. In the enormous desire he had to see his face again, to hear his voice, to make him smile and laugh and, perhaps, some occasional blush. His heart felt at peace just by that thought. But it also raced so fast that for a minute he thought it was going to explode.

He wondered how it was possible for love to be that complicated. How was it even possible that it caused so many different emotions in him.

He felt like he was going to lose his mind at any time.

"What a tightrope we walk on, angel."

But oh, how much he loved him.

How much he adored him. How much he worshiped him.

another little thing based on the best good omens au ever, oopsie!omens by @asleepyy bc they are all i think about lately. hope you enjoy it!🩷

(english is not my first language so i apologize in advance if there's any mistakes)

#good omens #oopsie!omens #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens season two #good omens season one

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simonsdoll · 1 year

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kind of an angsty/flufffy ask but the 141 + könig + graves reaction to making reader cry at work (like they got mad at you and snapped and then you start tearing up and sobbing)

You can make reader civilian or military up to you 💖

MW2 men’s reaction to

making reader cry

Includes: Price,Ghost,Soap,Gaz,Konig and Graves

A/n: Thanks for the request! I kinda cried making these btw. Hope you like!

PRICE

- He irritatedly yells at you and curses sick words at you making the room go silent as he takes off his hat and throws it on the ground. He impulsively kicks a chair towards your direction. With the swift motion of his hands going up you get startled and start to feel your eyes collect with tears in shock. He’s never done that before and his mean words has you frozen and breathing shallow

- As he snaps out of his maddening state, he sees tears fall down your face as he notices the closed fists to your chest awaiting more yells from him. Your erratic breathing giving you goosebumps

- He acts quickly and he hugs you,apologizing over and over again. Starts reflecting on his actions as he soothes your crying. Making sure he does better next time things get stressful and to not repeat himself again

GHOST

- He slams you onto a wall and aggressively tells you how irritating you are and how he wishes he doesn’t see you after every mission. Said it in a heartless and cold manner as if he didn’t regret a word. He walks backwards with a fist to his mouth to keep him from saying more awful things to you

- He stares at you silently realizing what he just said to you. He sees you hold the wall behind you in fear and anger. Hot tears running down your face as you get an unpleasant feeling in your stomach. You run to your barrack room and quickly shut the door

- When you let him in to talk,he stands there awkwardly before he starts to quietly apologize to you for his hurtful words. Telling you he didn’t mean anything and that you mean so much to him even the rest of 141 but that he doesn’t show it. He brings you in for a side hug while he carcasses your shoulders making sure your tears stop falling. He reminds himself that people have feelings and he should be more considerate with his choice of words

SOAP

- He shouts at you as he arrogantly degrades you for everything you do and how much of a bother you are every time you come near him. In a realization, he covers his mouth with one hand and runs his fingers through his hair with the other

- You shake your head side to side and your lips began to tremble trying to push back the heavy tears in your eyes. As soon as he loses his temper, he embraces you in a tight hug and starts apologizing profusely. Taking back everything he said telling you it’s not true. His voice starts to shake in fear he’s ruined the bond between you both

- He wipes the tears from your face one by one whispering that he’s so so sorry and asking himself ; what type of person is he, yelling at someone like that? Reassuring you that your never a bother and all those hurtful things he said were just because he was irritated. Starts promising himself he’ll work better on managing his feelings instead of taking them out of people

GAZ

- He yells at you as he throws an object at you in hopes you leave him alone. Telling you to fuck off and sarcastically tells you he actually cares when you tried venting to him about your problems. He let you know how bitchy you are when he’s around and hopes you remain silent forever

- His hands shake as he throws his hands above his head in shock. Doesn’t know what came over him and why he dared to say that to you. He looks at your change in breathing and at a loss for words when you begin to cry holding any surface for balance

- He quickly holds your hands and guides you to sit down. Starts repeating to you that it’s his fault and he apologizes over and over again between sentences. Wipes your tears and he comforts you by whispering sweet words into your ear. Telling you he doesn’t mean any word he said telling you it’s the exact opposite. Beats himself up to stop acting on his impulsive behavior especially if it affects others

KONIG

- Shoves you to the ground accidentally not keeping in mind how strong he is. Calls you so overbearing and hates how affectionate you are. Telling you how he sometimes wishes to rip you off him at times

- You keep yourself propped up on one elbow while the other flies to your chest. A pain begins to form in your chest as your heavy tears result in your inability to speak. He tried walking past you quickly stepping over you, but he snaps out of his troubled thoughts, turning around as he sees you crying on the floor. He walks quickly to you and picks you up taking you to the bedroom and sits you down at the edge of the bed

- He falls to his knees and looks up at you with tearful eyes. He’s crying and regretting ever laying his hands on you in such a cruel way. He hugs your waist murmuring countless apologies in German. He thinks you hate him and he starts to tell you the best he can through sniffles that he didn’t mean anything and how he’s never going to treat you like that ever again. He’s more careful of his actions and tries his best to de-escalate things when he gets mad

GRAVES

- He yells at you with an enraged tone of voice.He starts punching the wall leaving dents as he vents about all the problems he has and how your just one of many more he has to deal with that stress and irk him. How you provoke the worst out of him and when missions get tough he doesn’t bother looking out for you

- With every punch to the wall,the room echoes and shortly after it’s filled with your choked sobbing. You back away slowly from him trying to create some space between you both. He rubs his knuckles looking down at the floor as his breathing stops. He looks back up to you watching hot tears rush and fall down your face. He runs fingers through his hair trying to figure out why he confessed such terrible things he didn’t mean

- He walks slowly up to you apologizing over and over again trying not to startle you anymore. He kneels down on one knee as he starts degrading himself for acting such a cruel way towards you. Looks up to you and says sorry again but with watery eyes making sure you know he means it. He promises himself to not show that ugly side of him anymore in hopes of losing you

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

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abysswalkersknight · 5 months

Text

Another late night drabble! I kept seeing all these wonderful fics and headcannons of Lilia interacting with his younger self so I thought to contribute something. Eventually I hope to be able to 'get the point across' in my fics or try to make more sense of them but right now I hope you like this piece.

.............

It was a horrible sight. Terrifying. Sickening! Never had Vanrouge ever imagined he would see himself cosying up to the humans of this dreadful school, let alone the offspring of their enemy, even going as far as to raise it. At least with Mallenoa’s son he could understand, he’d been entrusted with the egg’s care and all. But he could never wrap his head after the fact that his older self willingly chose to let the human live and care for it as well as embracing that cuteness that is utterly childish and unworthy of someone like Lilia. It was maddening even to see Malleus doting on the boy or that Baul’s child decided to marry a human of all things, the world has become madness itself. He couldn’t understand, looking at that face… All he could see was the killer of their princess what had changed in all those years for his older self to see something past that, to let that cold heart of his to melt into sludge for a mere human, a mere child! It was terrifying to see someone with his face and calibre act so carefree and loving with this child, to see that even someone like him could live a life of such tranquillity despite all that was lost. Of course he’s felt fear before, when your on the battlefield fear is bound to pierce even the most hardened of souls, and it was this same fear he felt as he watches his future self, this insatiable beast, whose very name strikes fear into the hearts of both man and fae, grow ever so daft, so soft. It was like watching a wolf become some house mutt, a blade with no edge, is this what I’ll become?!

An old thing of a fool doused in hot pink, weak and growing weaker by the minute, staring lovingly at the enemy’s spawn with the prince. He can only laugh, Vanrouge had thought this was a showcase of his downfall, a punishment for allowing his friends and family to die.

Until that night.

As he had been stewing in similar thoughts, his future self’s human (he refused to say son) must have sensed his melancholy because he sat up from where he rested his head next Lilia’s shoulder watching him play a game on his phone, Malleus and Sebek were elsewhere, and suddenly he was in front of Vanrouge reaching out with a concerned expression, he didn’t know what was happening, he didn’t realise that Silver only meant to check on his well being, all he saw was the knight of dawn reaching out with hands stained with blood. Everything was blank until a cry of pain echoed in his ears, red filled his vision and a volley of black and pink suddenly descended upon him before the phone had touched the ground.

‘Don’t you dare touch him!’ Lilia shrieked, gripping the general around the throat before dragging him away from the boy clutching the side of his bleeding face. Admittedly he’d been on edge ever since his boys insisted on housing the general in a secluded area of Diasomnia, he knew what he was like in his youth and he’d rather not have his son around such hostility only to be proven correct when Silver fell back and blood dripped between his gloved fingers. All that pent up anxiety burst into unrivalled rage which he regrettably unleashed upon the source of all his fears, slashing and striking without pause barely giving his younger self any room to retaliate. As they both scrapped Silver did his best to try to separate the two but with the flaring pain next to his eye he was merely shoved out of the way, eventually they stopped when it took both Malleus and Sebek to wretch them apart, Lilia with only a few scratches here and there while Vanrouge was thoroughly beaten, cuts and bruises everywhere and he had a slight limp when he shook off Malleus. No words were spoken until Lilia snarled at him ‘I don’t care if you're me or anything else, mark my words if you lay another finger on my son I’ll make sure they’ll never find your body.’ With that his features softened and he turned around to tend to Silver.

The boy hissed as Lilia gently pried his fingers away ‘alright let's get a good look at that’ he murmurs taking a handkerchief from his pocket and carefully cleaned around the wounded area with some water that was conveniently around ‘oh dear, well at least it’s not as bad as it looks’ he says. Two decently deep scratches marred Silver’s cheek, Lilia worried over the one closest to his eye, had Vanrouge moved just slightly it was sure to had struck the eye itself ‘hold still now’ diving into the his drying reservoirs of magic he drew a tender finger across the scratches and under his thumb the skin knitted itself back together until it was as if nothing had struck it at all ‘there good as new!’

As lilia cleaned the rest of the boy’s bloodied cheek, Vanrouge tended to his own injuries. Lilia had not been kind in his onslaught, each blow harder than the last, fierce rage burning in his gaze, yet he watches as Lilia oh so tenderly fusses over his child over such tiny scratches, he can’t help but take back his words. His older self may be stupid and soft, but he was not weak, in fact Vanrouge recalled a time when Malenoa told him about a parent’s abominable strength when it came to protecting their child, I suppose you may be right, princess.

Yet how could it be that I turn out just like that.

#knight's writing #lilia vanrouge #twst #silver twst #just doing this and drawing while I should be in bed #I'm tired but not sleepy so I write

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years

Text

The Dare

PART 2!

TW: Masturbation, smut, language, angst.

SUMMARY: A dare during a sleepover leads you to learn just how badly Rafe wants you…

WORD COUNT:

The Dare

“You can’t be serious…” The words left your lips behind a heavy scoff that led Sarah and Kiara’s eyes to connect in silent confirmation before looking back to you with shared agreement.

“It’s only fair with the picture you made me send to Topper-” Sarah explained.

“AND the text you had me send to John B-” Kiara added, “I’m just glad he didn’t answer…” She muttered, half relieved and half disappointed.

“This is different! You’re dating Top! And Kie and John B just have to get a bit of a push-Technically I did you favors-” You tried to convince your supposed friends to alter their minds, but found the expressions of pride and amusement spread across their faces to inform you that this would be futile.

“Consider this karma…” Kie lifted her drink as if to cheers to her own words before finishing the contents of her makeshift cocktail, courtesy of stolen liquor from Tannyhill’s kitchen under the allowance of a lack of parental supervision.

“Besides…I remember a time when you LIKED Rafe-” Kie’s eyes flashed in surprise as this was a detail she couldn’t have possibly have known as her and Sarah had only been friends for a few months but appeared as close as sisters, a friendship recently sweetened by the reconnection you made with the middle Cameron after drifting apart following Junior year.

“I did not!” You lied, your cheeks betraying your attempts to convince them otherwise. In truth, Rafe Cameron always had your thighs pressing together with the way his voice said your name and his full lips pulled to a grin when he noticed your eyes making note of him.

“It’s only fair…” Kie teased as you now shot up to your feet in objection.

“I don’t want to play anymore-”

“Oh come on…” Sarah whined, “You don’t get to get out of it so easily…Not after we followed through on OUR dares…”

“Then I change mine to truth-” You spoke quickly, not caring to hide the pout from your lips.

“Didn’t realize we were playing with Wheezie-” Sarah taunted in reference to a version of ‘truth or dare’ with her sister where the latter was excluded.

“If you don’t do this, I am ABSOLUTELY telling Rafe that you used to have a thing for him.” Kie interjected as you scowled at her.

“Is it REALLY worth him holding that over your head over just stealing his phone?” Sarah added, the peer pressure making you anxious.

“Why do you even want it? I mean…what if he’s using it or something…” You continued to try and convince them of an alternative torment, but they were too convinced of their aforementioned decision.

“The fact he hasn’t been down her ‘perving’ on you or Kie in the last hour tells me he’s definitely asleep. And I have my own reasons for wanting it…so…” Sarah and Kie stared at you with growing excitement to see you squirm behind a series of grunts and groans.

“Five minutes and an impromptu 007 mission or a lifetime of Rafe knowing you used to have a thing for him…Every time you come over having to hear him tell Topper and Kelce how you missed your chance with him…Every dinner him finding an excuse to remind you-” Your mind darted at the thought of him teasing you with this, a detail you couldn’t fathom having to live through as you could barely handle the touchless banter you shared now.

“Okay!” But this is blackmail-'' You glared before reluctantly crossing into the corridor responsible for holding the ascension of the staircase leading to the bedrooms. The second your hand wrapped around the railing, you considered returning to them to say you couldn’t find it or he was awake. But an even larger portion of you was desperate to have an excuse to be close to him. He made this a necessity by the way he greeted you with his usual teasing and his eyes kept on you until he climbed those very stairs a few hours prior. It was maddening-but also enough to commit to this action.

By the time you reached the top of the steps, having turned back when hearing Kie and Sarah chuckle at your expense, you were now a mess of tremors and anxiety. It would only take approximately ten steps before you’d reach his door and you were horrified on how you would go about it.

What if he wasn’t asleep? What would you say that would make your presence believable at two in the morning?

“Three minutes-” Sarah called as if to remind you of your mission as you turned back to shush her, ultimately deciding that the lesser of two evils would have to work as being appealing enough to convince you forward. Pressing your ear to his door, you weren’t able to hear anything close to a conscious Rafe, who was usually in motion one way or another. Validated enough for your entry, you twisted the knob slowly before finding a dark room set before you, relief relaxing your nerves for a time as you realized he had been asleep.

You were thankful for the darkness for many reasons, but mostly for it making it impossible to appreciate his figure which had beckoned you since he had begun to take care of himself in the last few years. But the thought of this gratefulness left you to think of the muscles in question; specifically how they would collect you in passion and pull you around as he saw fit. But with this existing only as a fantasy, you were able to return your focus rather quickly to your task.

A deep groan stilled you as the springs from the bed gave away the adjustment as you lowered behind the rival side of the bed as you began to conjure a thousand varied explanations from throwing Sarah under the bus or claiming you simply walked into the wrong room. But before you could begin either or, you heard it again. Only this time, it was spoken in the accompaniment of a deep breath.

“Fuck…” He groaned, your eyes widening as you deduced quickly that he certainly wasn’t asleep. Instead, he had been portraying the most decadent moans, keeping your gaze locked onto him as you were able to make out the motions of self pleasure embedded in the darkness before you.

“Walking around in those shorts…thinkin’ you can get away with that shit…” He moaned, the sound of self pleasure breaking the silence of your deafening heartbeat as you kept yourself concealed at the side of the bed, remaining magnetized to the way his body moved to his ecstasy, you were further rooted by his words.

“Yeah-you like this cock, baby?” Your skin became impossibly hot, the words continuing to narrate his thoughts aloud that you had only imagined when you were alone in your own room with ideas synonymous to these. It was the very guttural groans and vulgar mentions that left you pulsating and in need of a release all your own, confusing and guilting you in equal measure of just how distracting it had been.

“You’ve wanted this a long time, yeah? Go ahead-take it…Like THIS” Half of your body tightened at the drawl of his words lengthened from his unsteady breathing before the fear of being found kept you motionless but still in analysis of him.

“SO GOOD-I knew you’d feel so good…” He now spoke behind clenched teeth, the illumination of his phone pushed you further into your weak cover as he continued to moan and groan between the slick sounds of self gratification.

Quickening pumps making your mouth dry from anticipation, you were able to view the motivation behind his desire. You imagined the type of girl he would go for, immediately comparing yourself to the painful belief you were nothing more than something to torture for him. But it wasn’t a prissy girl who spent way too much money on deceptive beauty enhancers that the likes of his friends would be vying for.

It was you.

Photos you posted without a second thought, ignorant at how it had clearly affected him.

“Shit!” His body began to move wildly before you, the bed buckling beneath him as he quickened his inability to control his reaction to his thoughts of you.

“I can’t wait any more…Gotta cum in that pussy gotta-gotta-fuck!” With that final breath before his release, Rafe expelled your name, verifying once and for all that he held the same lustful thoughts you had possessed since you’d known him. Those once innocent butterflies now exchanged for scorching embers drifting well beyond your stomach and now settled between your thighs.

“Shit…” He breathed out, rising to the side of the bed, feet made flat with the hardwood supporting his entire room, all while you prayed to remain unseen.

Whether it was the haze of a recent orgasm, the darkness of the room, or the fact that he was simply THAT careless, he hadn’t noticed your body’s attempt to hide in the side of the bed as he disappeared into the connected bathroom. But it was this ignorance that allowed you to move to your feet and set for your exit.

For a moment, you looked back at his phone, considering if you should try for it to ensure that Sarah and Kiara kept your crush a secret. But not wanting to risk having to explain yourself in your current state; soaked nearly down to your kenes, panting, and with a blush you were certain he’d still be able to make out despite the sygian setting of your surroundings, you left it at your back and turned to the door.

Your heart stopped.

The sudden appearance of a large hand set against the frame of the door keeping it closed led your eyes to run up the flexed muscle, until you met with Rafe’s lust blown eyes illuminated by the sliver of moonlight allowed by the bathroom door falling open from his exit.

“And where do you think you’re going?” His voice, low with lust, had your lips part in a quick attempt to make up some sort of an excuse. But instead, you were left swallowing hard at the way he now carried his second hand to pin your back against the door.

“I-I-Sarah’s waiting for me…” You hoped this would be enough to deter whatever thoughts he intended to make a reality, but you also knew Rafe was sporadic and reckless-making up part of his charm, and so you knew if you were in his line of focus, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And he ALWAYS got what he wanted…

“No…You’re not going anywhere, baby…”

Part 2?

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts

#outer banks #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafecameron #obx #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #netflix #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks smut #obxsmut

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