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#anyone can just break it like a twig
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Vaggie: "Okay ha ha, very funny. Who stole me and Charlie's laundry out of the dryer again- Angel Dust!"
Angel Dust: "Wasn' me."
Vaggie: "Are you wearing my fucking skirt!?"
Angel Dust: "Ooooh~ it's a FUCKIN' skirt, huh? This one kept special for when Charlie jumps ya?"
Vaggie: "Que te la pique un pollo- NO."
Angel Dust: "Aw c'mon toots, we all know you have one~"
Vaggie: "Give me back. My skirt. You. Ass."
Angel Dust: "Speakin' of... is it really still YOUR skirt, Vagina, if MY ass is the one lookin' so utterly fine and fabulous in it?"
Vaggie: "YOU DONT HAVE AN ASS, ANGEL DUST."
Angel Dust: "Yeah? Then what's this beautiful thang here, hmm?"
Vaggie: "I don't know because there's nothing there for you to even POINT at, twig twink!"
Husk: "HA!"
Angel Dust: "Ugh fiiine. Since you're being nice an' usin' my preferred pronouns-"
Vaggie: "Twig???"
Husk: "Twink."
Angel Dust: "-I'll hand over the girlfriend-fucking skirt. The delicius heat from the dryer's mostly gone now anyway. Jus' lemme grab something to throw on over it first..."
Vaggie: "Seriously? THAT'S why you took it?? Dryer heat?"
Angel Dust: "Next best thing to hot bath at the end of a day's hard work, baby! A day's VERY hard, throbbing, aching work-"
Vaggie: "I will throw this spear at you. I WILL ruin your stupid hair."
Husk: "Fucking do it."
Vaggie: "YOU shut up too. You're the one who taught him this in the first place, aren't you?"
Husk: "WHAT? I don't put on your fucking skirts!"
Angel Dust: "Wha' about her non-fucking ones?"
Husk & Vaggie: "Shut up."
Angel Dust: "Touché~ Protestin' too much, me thinks~”
Vaggie: "Husk- we all know you're the one waiting for the dryer to finish so you can drag the laundry onto the floor and sleep on it!"
Husk: "That's bullshit- you've got no proof-"
Angel Dust: "Cat hair, Mr. Whiskers."
Husk: "The fucking hotel has a cat!"
Vaggie: "That smells like a bar and also sheds feathers?"
Husk: "FUCK."
Angel Dust: "Don't break yourself up over it, kitten daddy- If you hadn't shown me the joys of laundry shopping, I'd never have known how GOOD I look in this jacket."
Vaggie: "???? You- IS THAT CHARLIE'S!?!?"
Angel Dust: "Goes good with the skirt, huh? If you two had a kid, they'd fucking SLAY."
Vaggie: "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING HER JACKET"
Angel Dust: "Look- she's the only one in this fancy prancy hotel that's got the same measurements as me, at least in the shoulder, hips, and torso department! The only one who's clothes don't smell like dead deer and dusty old radios, anyway!! I'm kinda low on options here, okay?"
Vaggie: "WHAT ABOUT THE OPTION OF DON'T StEAL OUR STUFF?? THAT'S LIKE, THE EASIEST FUCKING OPTION YOU COULD HAVE!"
Angel Dust: "Orrrrr, you two could adopt me as you gay lovechild and give me some fuckin' hand me downs. Or money."
Vaggie: “OUR WHAT!?”
Angel Dust: “Fuck it, give me money an’ I’ll buy my own clothes, mom.”
Vaggie: “I. Am. NOT-”
Charlie: “-hey guys! Has anyone seen my….”
Charlie: “…uh, Vaggie? Why is Angel Dust dressed like our gay lovechild?”
Angel Dust: “HA!”
Charlie: “And did he just call you ‘mom??’”
Vaggie: “I give up. Anyone needs me, I’ll be in the laundry room, shoving myself in the dryer on the hellfire setting.”
Husk: “You’ll have to fucking drag Niffty out first.”
Vaggie: “What.”
Charlie: “What?”
Angel Dust: “WHAT”
Husk: “She was crawling in head first when I left after waking up- uhh- after getting something.”
Angel Dust: (shrieking) “AN’ YOU LEFT HER THERE???”
Vaggie: “Oh shit-”
Charlie: “Vaggie- go! Fly!! Go go go now Now NOW- EMPLOYEE IN THE INDUSTRIAL CLEANING EQUIPMENT THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!”
- meanwhile, in the laundry room-
THUMP THUMP THUMP
THUMP…. Thump………… thump
Alastor: “…”
Alastor: (reaches over to knock on dryer door)  
Alastor: “Having fun, dear?”
Niffty: (flopping limply half out of dryer) (battered) (scorched) (GRINNING) “Ow pain!”
Alastor: “Quite.”
Niffty: “Heheheh… heHEHEHEH.”
Niffty: (sets the dryer to max again) “More…. PAIN!!!” (shuts door from the inside) (grins from other side with her face pressed against the glass)
Alastor: “Fascinating.”
Thump…Thump. Thump. THUMP THUMPTHUMP-
Cherri Bomb: “…”
Cherri Bomb: “…Know what? You kids have fun. I’m just gonna go, like, break into someone’s house and murder them so I can use their washer and dryer. That’ll be less fucked up than….. whatever this is.” (hefts basket of bloody laundry and bombs) (waves over her shoulder while leaving) “Bye~”
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hairyjocktf · 1 month
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First Workout of the Year
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Aidan was just starting his second semester at university, and after a long winter break of being a bum he was ready to get back to his goal of finally getting in some semblance of shape.Despite his efforts during the fall he was still practically a twig, something the studs on grindr were keen to let him know. This was finally going to be when he packed on some size, he told himself as he headed into the campus gym. It was packed with people his size, trying for those new year's resolutions, with the regular jocks standing out amongst the crowd. He squeezed in between the hoards of people, getting in a basic circuit on the resistance machines. After about 40 measly minutes he was sweaty, out of breath, and decided to call it a day for his first workout back.
He headed to the locker room to rinse off before getting on his way. Letting the warm water pour over him for a few minutes, he let his thoughts drift to the hunks he saw in the free weight area. Damn they looked good, he thought, I hope I can pull off a tank top like that eventually. Eventually he came back to reality, turned off the water and reached for his towel. Or at least, where his towel was supposed to be. Shit! I must’ve forgotten it and not even noticed, he lamented. Soaking wet and low on options, he peeked out from the stall to see if anyone was around. Shockingly, the place was empty. On a nearby bench he spotted a leftover towel. Not that he wanted to use a dirty towel, but there weren’t many alternatives. Embarrassed about his actions, he darted over and snagged the towel before hiding back in the shower. 
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Eager to put this whole situation behind him, he used the towel to dry off his body, followed by his face. But while wiping his face he noticed a stench that had been missed earlier. The towel absolutely reeked of sweat and body odor. Upon opening his eyes at the eye watering smell he saw an even more disgusting problem: the towel was coated in thick dark hairs! How did I not see that? He cursed at himself. He spit one out of his mouth. Disgusted, he threw the towel down to the floor and quickly changed back into his clothes before storming out of the gym.
On his walk back to his dorm he was pissed, Who would leave a filthy towel like that? He angrily thought, and why did I not pay closer attention? The afternoon was warm, and he felt himself sweating. Guess I’ll have to shower again, he thought to himself. As he kept walking he felt increasingly sore in his muscles, maybe that workout was better than he had thought. He caught himself scratching at his pit, which was odd behavior for him, but he brushed it off as just being sweaty and sore. He brought his finger back up to his nose and sniffed them. Phew I stink! He said to himself. A moment later that action registered in his brain, Why the hell did I just scratch and sniff my pit? He began to worry. His shirt began to feel a little tighter than normal, restricting his arm movements as he walked. His shoes also felt smaller than usual. He continued making his way home, nearly there, as worry truly set in.
By the time he reached his dorm his back was drenched with sweat, he was feeling sore and itchy and all around uncomfortable. As he reached his hand to the door to put his key in his eyes widened. His hand was much larger than normal, as was his forearm, and they were both coated in thick dark hairs. As he stared, the hairs seemed to grow denser as they spread up his forearm to his bicep, which was also inflating to ridiculous size. Aidan quickly threw open the door and ran inside straight to his bathroom mirror. 
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What he saw made his jaw drop. His frame had grown substantially since leaving the gym just a while before, pushing against his now tight clothing. He could see his biceps and shoulders bulging under the fabric, stretching his t-shirt to its limit. As he stared agape in the mirror his pecs also began to grow, inflating his shirt even more. He groaned in discomfort as everything felt so sore as his muscles packed on years worth of mass in seconds. With a final grunt, his shirt split open, unable to contain his hulking body in a size small any longer.
His shirt in tatters, Aidan’s bulked up body was now clearly visible. Muscle mass was not the only thing growing on him. As he stared at his mountainous pecs, tiny dark spots began to appear across them. Dark pinpricks spread across his chest before erupting into dark brown hairs. Thin at first, they quickly darkened and thickened into respectable chest fur as his skin disappeared beneath the growing coat. It spread out from the center, swirling across his pecs and thickening around his nipples as thicker, longer hairs sprouted around them. The hairs crawled up to his collarbone, making sure that plenty of dark hairs would be visible above any shirt. He moaned from the feeling of the hair spreading, filling his new body with ecstasy.
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Aidan felt his previously flat stomach contort, with pronounced abs growing in and giving him that sought after V shape he admired in other jocks. That definition was quickly buried under his spreading body hair, however, as it raced down from his chest. Thick, dark hairs grew down in waves across his stomach, burying his abs under a coat of dense fur just like his chest. But that was just the beginning of it. He felt a strong itch below the waist of his paints as pressure increased substantially there. Pulling out his waistband he watched in horror as thick hairs erupted across his groin, engulfing the wisps that had been there before. The hairs were thick, dark, and grew curlier by the second as they spread. They grew up above his waistband, connecting to the forest that had covered his stomach, and then down to his thighs. His balls were not spared that fate either, with his sack becoming overrun with fur. With a densely hairy crotch that only continued to grow, Aidan groaned and put his hands up to his face, revealing a flash of dark under his arm. 
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He lifted his arm just in time to see thick, wiry hairs erupting from his armpit. They grew longer and thicker as they spread out, and he could see the sweat getting trapped in the bushes already. He scratched at the growing tuft of hair with his other hand, feeling the hairs grow and curl as they filled his armpit to the brim, sticking out even when he put his arm down. Those hairy pits already smelled to match the jock he was becoming, it was eye watering. The hairs even filled out to the point of connecting with his chest hair, giving his upper body a full coat. Or so he thought, at least, before the hairs began crawling up his boulder shoulders, the fur wrapping all the way to his back. The itchiness growing on his other side told him all he needed to know. Thick hairs were worming their way out across his shoulder blades, dusting his entire back with dark fur. The hairs climbed down, thickening as they approached his ass, which itself had grown quite a bit without him noticing. The itchy feeling reached a zenith as dark brown hairs began pushing out of his plump ass, giving him a nice thick fur coat even there. He reached around to scratch at his hole, feeling intense pleasure as thick curly hairs burst out around it, filling his crack with dark hairs.
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It was at this point, half lost in pleasure, that Aidan noticed his pants becoming incredibly tight. To avoid what happened with his shirt he quickly stripped them off, watching his quads grow to three times the size they had been, and the rest of his legs packing on impressive size. The thick hair in his groin and on his ass spread downwards, coating his thighs in an absolute rug of curly hairs. They of course did not stop there, shooting up across his calves and stretching down towards his feet, which began to grow quickly. After kicking off his shoes he watched as his feet grew longer, toes getting thicker as the same thick dark hairs popped up across his toes and the top of his foot. He was now stuck with huge hairy jock feet! Aidan looked back up at the mirror, seeing a hulking and incredibly hairy jocked up body that looked nothing like he had just an hour before. The only thing out of place was his babyface, though something told him that was soon to change.
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As if waiting for that moment, the hairs on his face began to sprout. Follicles pushed out hair after hair as his chin darkened. His hands scratched at the growing stubble as it covered his face, wiry hairs exploding across his upper lip. The thick hairs continued growing and spreading, giving him full coverage, reaching high up on his cheeks and connecting down to his chest hair. The fur crawled out of him, leaving barely any of his skin visible by the end. His body continued to explode with muscle, his frame getting heavier and bulkier. The hair hid most of the definition but anyone would still be able to tell how absolutely built he was now. The changes had taken a lot out of him as well, he was drenched in sweat and out of breath looking at his new form in the mirror. He absolutely reeked as well, all the new hair catching sweat and musk. 
Somehow though, he didn’t seem to mind that much. He had always been a real hairy and stinky guy, ever since puberty hit him hard in middle school. Kids had made fun of him then but now they admired and lusted after him. He was a real stud, and he was late for his second workout of the day.
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This was my first ever tf story, let me know if you like it! Hopefully they'll only get better from here. If you have ideas for future stories also let me know, I'd love to try out more.
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aerynwrites · 7 months
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Scars
Halsin x afab!Reader
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A/N: some friends and I were talking in discord and one of them gave me permission to use this wonderful idea! I hope y’all enjoy ❤️
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: major insecurity in reader regarding scars, talks of self hatred, self depreciation, all is comforted tho, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, partial nudity, fluff, kisses, love confessions.
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The battles are done, the enemies defeated, and yet it feels like the work doesn’t quite end there.
This battle was harder than the rest, bending and breaking all of you more than expected. So much so that blood still oozes and bones still need mending despite the healing spells Shadowheart was able to bestow upon your group. Even her magic was depleted leaving her with the the rare wounds to show for it.
Return to camp has become a habitual affair, those that are able, help the companions wounded before everyone returns to their tents for the night.
You, however, slink off on your own from the get go, avoiding the healing hands in favor of your own mediocre care.
It’s better for you this way. Safer. At least mentally. The small river a short distance from camp has become your solace. Far enough away to seclude you but close enough that if danger were to arise, help would be close by.
You’ve come here after most battles, rinsing off in the clear water before tending to your own wounds as best you can, too ashamed to ask anyone for help - too scared to bare yourself before them.
Especially since a certain druid joined your team.
Before Halsin had come along you’d been able to slip away with no questions asked. Every now and then Shadowheart would tease you about how she could get the job done quicker but it would end there. Now…now it’s like you can feel Halsins stare each time you leave camp, his offers of help being brushed off with a flippant wave of your hand.
You enjoy his company. More than enjoy it really - so much so that a small crush has started to develop for the larger man. A part of you has longed to accept his offers of help, longed to open up to him in a way you have to no one else.
Yet, each time, the acceptance dies on your tongue and you tuck your tail and run. Just like you always have.
You sigh as you approach the waters edge, stripping down to nothing but your under things in order to sit on a rock submerged below the water enough that you can rinse away the muck of battle in order to assess the damage.
It’s the same process as always. Rinse off, tend to any wounds then dress and head back to camp. But tonight proves more difficult.
You have more injuries than normal, which means more stitching - a task proving difficult due to what you assume is a larger wound on your back. You’d taken a nasty blow to the shoulder towards the end of the skirmish and now it aches terribly and refuses to move the way you need in order to tend to yourself properly.
With a wince, you reach behind you with your good arm and try to feel for the wound, hissing and snatching your hand back when it brushes over the edge of what seems to be a nasty gash.
You’ll never be able to reach that on your own.
Muttered curses slip past your lips, as you turn to focus on the things you can fix instead. However, just as you move to tend to the shallow claw marks on your arm the all too close snap of a twig startles you.
Your head whirls to look behind you, and your eyes widen in mortification to see Halsin standing several yards away.
“Halsin! What are you doing-“ you cut yourself off as you reach for your shirt on the bank behind you, desperate to cover up before he can see anymore.
Before he can think you’re hideous.
The thought is fleeting, but drives your actions all the same.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” Halsin finally speaks, holding out placating hands, as if dealing with a scared animal.
His words stall your movement just long enough for you to notice that the large elf isn’t looking at you. Instead his head is turned off to the side as if he doesn’t want to intrude on your privacy if it’s not wanted.
Your shirt hangs limply in your hands before you gather it to your chest. “What are you doing here?”
With his head still turned away, Halsin clears his throat. “I know you prefer to tend to your injuries yourself, but I saw the wound on your back when you all returned from camp. I only came to offer my help - and if you refuse I will turn now and leave you in peace.”
The air is silent as his words settle between you, and you open your mouth to give your typical refusal before stopping short.
You do need help. There’s no way you’ll be able to take care of the injury on your own. Not properly anyways. And infection is dangerous - even with healers around to help.
You let out a soft sigh, turning back to face the water, your shirt still clutched tightly to your front like some sort of lifeline.
“That’s - yes. I can’t…I can’t reach it on my own,” you admit softly, trying not to quake in shame as you hear his soft footfalls approach.
The thud of his boots in the grass and quiet splash of water is the only thing that lets you know how close he is, your eyes still trained on the river in front of you.
Soon you feel a presence at your back, and Halsins voice meets your ears once more.
“May I touch you?”
The question is simple, yet it ignites a bitterness you hadn’t realized was there. “You have to in order to treat me, don’t you?”
If Halsin reacts to your snappy reply, he doesn’t say anything, instead you feel him settle onto the rock behind you, water rippling between your bodies as a gentle hand rest on your shoulder
“It is ideal, yes, but I will not force my help upon you if you do not wish it.”
His breath is warm against your neck, and you can’t suppress the shudder that runs through you. Shame wells in you again, but this time at yourself. He’s just trying to help and you’re letting your own insecurities - your own self hatred spew at the wrong person.
“I’m sorry, yes - it’s fine. I’m not…used to this is all. I don’t like people seeing me like…like this,” your admission is a soft, broken thing, almost lost amongst the babbling water if it weren’t for Halsin’s close proximity.
He lets out a low hum just as you feel the unfamiliar warmth of healing magic along your back, seeing the golden glow from the corner of your eye.
“A good healer would never shame those needing his help,” he tells you, the hand on your shoulder giving you a reassuring squeeze. “My aid is available whenever you require.”
You shake your head, a scoff slipping past your lips. “That’s not…thank you.”
Your initial words die on your lips, the true reason for your hesitance unwilling to reveal itself so soon. And if Halsin notices your deflection he doesn’t say anything, instead he lets silence fill the air between you until finally that comforting warmth disappears from your skin, the glow dissipating.
“Is there anything else I can help with?”
The automatic refusal sits on your tounge once more but you stop yourself, instead moving to hold up your other arm, showing him the claw marks that have already started to scab.
“Of course,” he says and you can hear him shift behind you. “Would you be comfortable facing me?”
You nod, and for the first time you find yourself telling the truth. For the first time in as long as you can remember you feel some semblance of safety with someone seeing you like this.
Slowly you turn to face the druid, finally letting the shirt you were holding drop from your grip, tossing it back to shore. You still have your underwear on, and you’re sure the man before you had seen worse.
Once you’re settled, you find yourself fave to face with Halsin for the first time tonight, and the first thing you notice is his smile.
It’s a tiny thing, small and reassuring and kind. An emotion you’re not used to seeing in this state of undress.
He gently takes your arm in his hand and applies the same treatment as before. Magic emits from his palm, wrapping your arm in small tendrils of golden light as the healing warmth envelops you once more.
“Will there be scars?”
The question falls from your lips before you can stop it, and you watch as Halsin’s brow furrows.
“This one should leave minimal scarring, if any at all. The creatures claws did not dig deep. But the wound on your shoulder was…” he pauses. “Even magic cannot overpower nature at times. It will most likely leave a mark,” he smiles again, “but you do not seem a stranger to those.”
His words cut deep, hitting you where you know he doesn’t mean too. But your shame, your insecurity rears it’s ugly head again, and you yank your arm from his grip - the magic dispelling as his touch does.
“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” you hiss, moving to stand uncaring of your half healed wound, or the way you teeter on unsteady feet.
“Wait,” a strong hand reaches to capture your own before you can leave. “I meant no offense, truly.”
His words cause you to pause, and you reluctantly turn to look down at where he still sits in the water. His smile is gone, lips downturned and eyes pleading.
“Then what did you mean if not to make fun of my disfigurement - of the very things I hate most.”
Halsin stands to join you, eyes searching your own until he has his feet beneath him and then your hands clasped in his own.
“I did not think it was something you felt ashamed of or I would not have made the jest. I apologize for not treading more carefully but…” he pauses again, weighing his words. “Your scars…they are nothing to be ashamed of.”
You want to laugh, can feel it bubbling up in your chest. A bitter, nasty little sound that wants to make itself known. But you choke it down, the weight of his words helping you to do so.
“But they’re…ugly. Hideous. I’ve heard it enough throughout my life that…it must be true.” Your words are broken, reflecting exactly how you feel inside. How you’ve felt for so long.
Quickly a hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb wiping away tears you hadn’t even realized started to fall.
Halsins mouth is set in a thin line, eyes serious as he guides you to look at him.
“Whoever whispered those lies into your ears deserves a fate worse than the Oak Father can give,” he tells you, eyes falling down to take you in entirely. “Nature may be beautiful, but it is far from perfect - and sometimes it is far from merciful.”
Slowly, he takes drops his hand from your cheek, instead taking your hand in his and guiding your arm upwards. He uses his other hand to begin tracing the scars that cascade across your skin, some small and some large - all with different stories.
His fingers are gentle, barley a whisper on your skin as they travel upwards towards your shoulder and eventually he turns you to face away from him again, his fingers continuing their journey down your back.
“Scars are a part of one’s life, just as nature intended. They tell the story of where life has taken you, of where you’ve been.”
His breath ghosts against your shoulder and a shiver runs through you as his lips ghost over the scar of the wound he just healed.
“Some may have more than others, but that just means their stories are easier to read,” he comes around to your front again, looking down at you with a reverence you’ve never seen before.
“Would you look upon my face and call me hideous for the scars I bear?”
Your heart leaps into your throat, eyes widening. “No! Of course not, you’re…I think you’re…beautiful.”
Halsin smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then why can you not show yourself the same kindness?”
“I-I don’t know. I’ve never…thought about it like that.” You say honestly, eyes casting downwards.
Halsin quickly redirects your attention, bringing up his arm and removing one of his bracers, showing yet another scar. It’s white and faded with time but you can tell it was from a terrible wound that was never treated properly.
“I received this one early in my youth. I thought myself a proper druid, ready to take on even the toughest foes. However, a displacer beast was quick to show me otherwise. I was left with a scar and a lesson learned, encouraging me to not only work hard to attune with nature and its magic but to step back and think before charging head first into a situation.”
His words are wise, and you find yourself studying the scar with curiosity rather than disgust as you have with your own.
The next while continues on like this, Halsin slowly showing you his scars and telling the stories behind them. Eventually you both end up sitting on the bank to dry as the stories continue. And eventually, he gets you to open up too - staring with small mundane scars and stories before eventually revealing the scars you hated most and what led to them. Except…as the night goes on, you find the hatred giving way to nostalgia. Some of them came from memories that make laughter bubble in your chest. Like the time an old childhood friend wanted to try to knock an apple from your head with an arrow but instead left you with a scar on your temple and a fear of inexperienced archers. Or the time you had slipped in the river trying to catch frogs with that same friend and gained a scar on your knee.
Another pleasant story had just finished and Halsin smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the corners in the way you’ve come to admire.
“See, your scars, no matter how much you may detest them, tell your story - each one a different page.” Slowly he takes your hand in his own, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “And I would be happy to know each and every one if you’ll let me.”
His words make butterflies erupt in your stomach and heat rush to your cheeks as you nod.
“It might take a while,” you gesture to yourself, “there’s…lots of pages.”
If it’s even possible, his grin widens. “All the better - it just means more time spent with you.”
You move before you can think, acting on what little bit of courage has gathered in your chest as you lean towards him and press a quick kiss to his lips. You move to retreat, just in case you have read the signs wrong. But a warm hand comes up to rest at the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he kisses you back.
His lips are warm and gentle against yours and you feel like you might melt into a puddle right here. But your elation is cut just short as Halsin pulls away, gazing at you happily.
“You are beautiful,” he says softly, “enough to rival nature itself. Please come to me if you ever need to be reminded of that.”
Suddenly bashful, you give him a small nod before leaning into him again, but this time just to rest your head on his shoulder as your arms slip around his middle. Halsin returns the embrace, strong arms slipping around you and cocooning you in a comforting warmth.
You still have a long way to go, but with Halsin at your side…the journey might be a little more bearable.
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imaginesforeons · 5 months
Text
One Word (Yandere!Toji x Reader)
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~All he wants is a name~
CW: Previous abusive relationships. Current abusive relationship. Yandere!Toji. Kidnapping. Implied NSFW(kinda).
Word Count: 950
Reqs are OPEN! At the top of my page you can see what fandoms I write for, so DM me with your ideas!
.-.-.
Your hand squeezed the doorknob so hard you swore you heard your knuckles crack. Trembling, you let your sweaty forehead rest against the bathroom door, closing your eyes.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Toji crooned from the other side of the door. “All you have to do is give me a name. Just one word, then it’ll all be over.”
Even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “No. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”
From the other side of the door you heard a thump. When Toji spoke again, his voice was louder. He was probably leaning against it. “Really? You’re trying to protect the guy that beat on you for three months?”
“Toji,” you said. You knew how much he loved it when you said his name. Maybe it would make him go easy on you, and you could escape today without any blood on your hands. “He’s not here. When I left him, he never even looked back. I bet he doesn’t even remember my name.”
You bit your tongue until you tasted the salty tang of blood as you waited for his response. On the other side of the door he was silent; you couldn’t even hear his breath, and you were surprised that he hadn’t forced his way in yet.
It was a courtesy, you knew. Ever since Toji brought you - kidnapped you - to his home in a secluded countryside, he had removed all the locks in the house, except for the front door and windows, the former of which he had the only key, while the latter he had bolted shut. The only reason he hadn’t pushed into the bathroom was out of some misplaced respect for you. Or maybe he was having fun.
He was probably having fun.
It seemed like you were destined to have one abusive relationship after another. Your first boyfriend was notorious for his gaslighting of you, and you had to deal with a year of feeling like you were crazy until you finally caught on. Your second boyfriend had seemed, at first, to be a little better. Until you found out you were the other woman, and he had a wife and two kids with a third on the way. Your third boyfriend had worked slower. While you had dated and broken up with the other two in a span of a year or less, this one had worked with a deadly patience.
Your honeymoon phase lasted two years before any dangerous signs decided to show themselves. At first, you excused it by saying he was stressed, an excuse which would damn you. He would come home angry, shout at you, pick at every little mistake you made, then leave again. But he’d make it better the next day, bringing you gifts, cleaning the house, and taking you out to picture perfect dates. Later, you would learn that this was called love bombing. You thought it would get better, but each day it only got worse, building to a deadly climax.
It got worse and worse until one night, you found yourself out on the street, fleeing from your boyfriend and nursing a broken wrist. That was how you met Toji. He took you to the hospital, and after you left your boyfriend, you couldn’t say anything but yes when he asked you out on a date. Your reprieve lasted only three weeks, until one day you woke up in a strange bed, in a strange house, and Toji explained that you’d never leave.
Four months later, and you were here, hiding in the bathroom from a man that could break the door down with one hand. He had demonstrated his inhuman strength dozens of times, and though he’d never laid a hand on you, every time you saw him crumple a doorknob in with a single squeez, or snap a crowbar in half like a twig, you were left shaking.
“Listen, babe,” Toji said. “You know I love your loyalty, but my patience will only last so long. You just have to give me a name, and I’ll do the rest.”
You felt your heart plummet.
“Please,” you whispered. “Please, Toji, I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”
Toji snorted. “Why? Don’t tell me you still love him. A guy like that doesn’t deserve anything from you.”
You wondered if he could hear how ironic that statement was, coming from him. 
“No!,” you cried swiftly. “I just don’t want to be reminded of him again, that’s all. Toji, I never loved him-” a lie “-I’ve only ever cared for you!” Another lie, but maybe this one would make him give up.
There was silence from the other side of the door, lasting long enough that you felt hope start to bloom in your chest. Then you heard a familiar sound that made your eyes sting anew, a sound like the crumpling of a soda can. Toji had just crushed the bathroom’s door handle.
It was useless, but you still pushed back as he forced the door open. You still fought when he swept you into his arms. You snarled and cursed when he threw you onto the bed, because while Toji might be dangerous, he had never turned his anger towards you. You turned your head away when he tried to kiss you, but he only took your face in one calloused hand, holding it steady so he could place a quick kiss on your lips.
“I thought you already learned that what I want, I get,” Toji murmured. “By morning, I’ll be leaving with a name, no matter what.”
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partycatty · 1 month
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older!johnny cage > overheard
you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss
notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]
[ masterlist ]
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• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.
• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"
• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."
• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.
• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."
• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.
• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."
• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."
• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."
• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."
• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.
• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"
• your friend falls silent.
• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"
• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.
• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."
• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."
• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."
• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.
• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"
• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.
• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.
• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.
• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.
• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?
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In Heat! 1/7
They're in heat, and you smell so hot...
Warning: 18+ smut, dubcon/noncon, hybrid!bts, wolf-hybrid!jungkook x bunny-hybrid!reader, dark yandere, predator/play, corruption, breeding kink
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Feral. Jungkook was feral for you.
The wolf hybrid couldn't stop himself from rutting against you as you cried. You should have known better than to walk alone during the full moon. You believed you could make it home before sundown. Poor sweet naive bunny hybrid really thought she could outrun a wolf?
Jungkook could inhale and almost taste your sweetness, your sugary innocence as you sob under him. He holds back his instincts from shattering the bones in your slender wrists, at least for now.
You smelled too good for that, he didn't want to break you and spoil that sweetness about you. He needed to claim you first, he needed it, he felt feverish just hearing you whimper and twist helplessly under him.
You hyperventilate as Jungkook drags your wrists through the dirt, the earth sticking to the wet streaks across your cheeks as he holds your body down, crushing you between him and the ground. You stutter out apologies, pathetic pleas for the wolf to let you go.
But why would Jungkook let go of you now?
You're such a sweet prize that someone else from his pack will most certainly try to take the moment you're without him. No, you were his. His to claim.
Jungkook growls lowly, rips your dress down the middle, exposing your front to him, your nipples hardened in the cool night air, smooth skin that would look so pretty with his bites littered across. He bares his fangs, smiling at the thought.
You scream, choking on your tears, shivering in fright. You thought you were fast, but this beast above you was as quick as lightning, faster than any hybrid you've ever come across. You've never met anyone like him, only heard of rumors, warnings from your parents you should have listened to, a predator that oozed dominance, strength and wickedness. How could you have known?
Jungkook caught you too easily, almost suffocated you when he pounced, your pretty dress soiled and dirt tangled in your hair from your struggle.
You lied frozen in shock and fear when he huffed out loud, growling. A big bad wolf, Jungkook certainly was menacing, with wild hair and heated eyes, he made you feel small. His clawed fingers twist your nipples, pulling as you cry out for help, your palms digging into the earth to steady your shakes. He leans back on his knees, hands touching and groping, claws scratching across your skin in warning,
"Good bunny. You know it's useless to fight me, so be good and turn around for me, yeah?" He pulls at your hips before you can protest.
What choice do you have, but to bare yourself and make it hurt less?
Jungkook takes in your shivering form. He growls lowly, your body was made to be bred, your hips perfect for child-bearing, for gripping when fucking. His sharp claws rip into the seams of your clothes, mounting you quicker than you were prepared for, shoving his cock into you with so much force your legs give out. You scream in pain when he grabs a fistful of your hair, catching your floppy ears in his tight grip too, pushing your head down into leaves and twigs. He yanks your head back with one particularly hard thrust, his brutal pace strong to keep your cries loud.
Despite your pain, your body was hardwired for mating, you were throbbing, stretched around his thick cock. You cried as your cunt clenched around him and pulled him in. He bows his head and inhales your enticing scent, groaning into your neck as his weight drops on you, tongue licking across the sensitive skin under your ear.
You whimper and try not to think about his cock buried inside you, the friction making your body react despite your struggle to stop him.
"You like that, sweet bunny?" he asks, taunting. You shake your head, as much as you can with his fingers digging into your scalp. "Oh, you do." You can hear the delight in his deep rasp.
He chuckles when you whine out, thrusting in faster and harder when you tighten around him. He grabs your wrists again when you try to crawl away, putting you back in place as his hips roll into you deeper. Your rightful place, he thinks.
You are too perfect, and he thinks he might break your legs after this, to keep you with him forever. Jungkook sinks his teeth into the back of your shoulder. You whimper and cry shameful tears, no suiter will want you now, now that you've been used, scented, and marked by a predator.
What will you do?
Your body goes limp, moving back and forth in the stirred up soil as Jungkook fucks you.
The wolf hybrid doesn't need to break your bones after all, he carries you to his den easily without any protest.
This is my first time writing a hybrid story like this I don't know what I'm doing sorry t_t KNJ | KSJ | MYG | JHS | PJM | KTH | JJK | BTS
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Steddie Upside-down AU Part 21
Part 1 Part 20
Steve’s dragging his feet on their way out the door, not that Eddie can blame him. He’s practically been vivisected by that thing twice now, and Eddie can’t blame him for not wanting to see it again.
Eddie wants to sandwich Steve in the middle. He’s listing on his feet, and his skin’s ashy and pale from all the blood loss. But he’d shoved Will in-between them like usual, and that was that.
He keeps his pace slow and measured without making it obvious he’s doing it. Steve will kick up a fuss if he realizes it’s to accommodate him. He keeps his ears peeled.
They’re walking around in a hellscape, weaponless. Just like old times.
They don’t make it to the quarry. They’ve barely made it anywhere at all when there’s a scream that sounds alarmingly human.
It, of course, comes from the woods. The trees tower over them, casting looming shadows. They all freeze like dear in the crosshairs of a car’s headlights.
It’s quiet.
So, so quiet.
Then, “Nancy?” muffled, like it’s being screamed through a straw. “Nancy, are you there?”
“Jonathan,” Will says, taking off into the woods, Steve right behind him because “Nancy” can’t mean anyone other than Nancy Wheeler.
“No, no don’t,” Eddie says, knowing it’s too late. “Son of a bitch!” The trees cast shadows, long and menacing as they swallow Steve and Will up. Eddie runs. “Oh, this is so stupid, this is so stupid.”
“Follow my voice!” Jonathan calls again. Eddie does.
He doesn’t hear the clicking of the Demogorgon until he sees it. Will and Steve are frozen, watching it stalk toward where Nancy Wheeler is crouched, peering into a pulsing red light between two trees.
Steve turns toward Eddie, eyes wild. “Keep the kid alive, Munson.”
Eddie’s stomach lurches violently enough that bile fills his mouth. Because Steve is standing there, weaponless and injured. There’s ash coating his hair, band-aids plastered to his forehead, dirt caking his pants to his thighs. A fallen angel in the making.
“No,” he whispers, voice gaining volume as his words gain speed. “No, no, don’t do this to me.” He takes a step toward Steve, not caring at the twig snapping beneath his foot. “Come on, come one, I dare you to stay alive.”
Steve smiles with his whole face. Blood drips down from beneath the bandages on his forehead. It looks black in the shadowed wood. “I didn’t pick dare he says.”
Then, beautiful, brave, fucking stupid Steve Harrington runs at the Demogorgon, screaming as he punches it in the back of its head.
“Come get me, you fucker,” Steve spits. The Demogorgon’s face splits open, and it screeches, guttural.
“Steve?” Nancy calls. Her hands stuck in the red light now, but she’s just sitting there, staring at Steve like she’s never seen him before.
The last thing Eddie sees of Steve Harrington is his back as he bolts through the trees, the Demogorgon following close behind.
“Eddie,” Will cries. He’s tugging Eddie relentlessly toward where Nancy’s still crouched. They’re stumbling over every root and rock because Eddie refuses to look away from the spot Steve had been. If he looks away, that’ll be it. Steve will be gone.
But then the kid shoves him, hard, and he falls. Nancy Wheeler latches onto his arm hard. Just as unrelenting as Will’s grip on his waist.
They’re pulled through the pulsing red hole in the world. It’s a squeezing, almost violent pressure, that pops along with his eardrums once they’re free.
It’s nighttime in the real world. He doesn’t realize the shadows of that place had been wrong until he seems the right once more. His breath comes easy, clear of ash and that pulsing red. He doesn’t care.
Eddie turns back to where they’d come, but it’s just fucking bark. Innate fucking wood. He slams the heel of his palm on it, trying to find any give at all.
“Will?” Jonathan says, voice breaking. Eddie doesn’t care, barely registers it at all.
“No,” Eddie cries. He doesn’t feel his nails give as he starts clawing at the thing, like he can scratch his way back to where he’s supposed to be. “No, no, no!”
He doesn’t stop until someone pulls him bodily back and away. He struggles like an animal in a trap. Doesn’t stop until another set of arms box him in, holding him back.
He sags, bringing all three of them to the ground. His throat feels raw, like he’s been screaming. Maybe he has.
He lands partially on other bodies, feels them shove him off. Doesn’t care. Just stares at the bark where Steve Harrington isn’t until Will calls, “Eddie?”
He turns on hands and knees. The ground is cold, but Eddie barely feels it. Will’s in his brother’s arms, face pressed into Jonathan’s chest, one eye watching Eddie, wide and trusting.
Nancy is on her butt in the dirt, mouth still parted in shock as she looks at the same spot Eddie was just staring at. She’s wearing a brown jacket with pristine white trim, hair in a perky ponytail. Eddie wants to yank it clean off her head.
Beside Nancy, her redheaded friend sits, squinting suspiciously between Eddie, and Will, and Nancy, then back to Eddie, like she can’t figure out who’s fault this is.
It’s Eddie’s. He sinks his fingers into the dirt, clutching it in his fingers, even as his messed-up pinkie screams. He barely feels it past the shock.
He can still see Steve Harrington’s back as he turned away for the last time.
“I’ve got to go back,” Eddie says, looking up at Nancy imploringly. “How do I go back?”
Nancy shakes her head, shaking loose a few tears that trail down her cheeks. “I don’t—” she says, swallowing. “I don’t know.”
Eddie makes a sound like a wounded dog, full of unwanted pain and impotent rage.
“Why the hell would we go back?” Nancy’s friend asks.
It’s like the words are the last cut needed to break him. Eddie starts sobbing, barely hears Will’s answer over his own devastation.
“It’s Steve,” he says. “He’s still there.”
Part 22
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thelov3lybookworm · 4 months
Note
Hi! Omg I loved reading your Rhys x reader secret pregnancy fic! May I please request a Lucien x reader where he’s been cursed to stay in the form of an actual fox and the then reader comes along to break his curse? Thank you!!
Cursed
Summary: The mother liked being cruel to Lucien. First she had him lose his eye, and now his body.
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: mention of being a child of forced intimate relation, other than that, I'm not sure there is more, so let me know if i need to add anything.
A/n: my love, my heart, my baby anon. come here so i can sing you to sleep and cuddle with you because holyyyy shit i love this idea aaaahhhhh. (i am ready to be your tumblr wifey)
also, the beginning is basically our Y/n trauma/info dumping
anyways, enjoy!
(I had fun talking to you about this @artists-ally)
•○🌑○•
A twig snapped behind Y/n, and she rolled her eyes in frustration.
After wondering for a moment if she should ignore the animal, she decided to turn to look.
There, next to a mighty tree, crouched the fox. Abnormally large, fluffier than a normal fox, it had been following Y/n around for the better part of the week.
The moment Y/n met the fox's mismatched eyes, it tensed, as if ready to bolt. But then, after a moment, it relaxed, again staring at Y/n curiously.
The problem wasn't the fact that it was a fox. No, there were plenty of foxes in the forest near Y/n's home. But those foxes didn't follow her around or sit outside her door at all hours.
This one did all of that.
She wouldn't have been much bothered if it had been a normal fox following her around. But this one had a weird aura about it, like it was not an ordinary fox.
The fox suddenly moved, slowly prowling towards Y/n. She watched it, its body moving and navigating through the roots and fallen branches graciously, as if it were an elegant lady in the royal court.
Y/n shook her head, turning away and continuing on her journey to the cluster of trees deep into the forest to collect some fruit for herself.
The fox fell in step beside her.
She did her best to ignore the animal, though its unnatural aura kept her glancing at it.
Unfortunately, it also had her distracted, and she almost didn't pull up the hood of her cloak when a mortal man walked into view, carrying a bunch of firewood on his back.
But thank the forgotten gods, the man was too busy grumbling to himself to notice the pointed tips of her ears before she covered them.
Being a half fae was hard when living among mortals.
She could get killed if anyone found out about her heritage, and that was the only real reason she had for living on the outskirts of the small town, right next to where the forest started and away from the mortals.
And honestly, she cursed whoever the bastard was that had raped her mother and sired her for the inconvenience.
But she couldn't go down that path of thought, because if she did, she would just end up on the same thought that had her staying up at night and bawling her eyes out.
She was lonely.
It had nothing to do with the solitude of her house. No. It was because she was a half fae, and while other girls her age would mingle with other young men or whoever caught their fancy, she could not do so for fear of being killed.
She also had no family, her mother having died when Y/n was still young. Y/n had no siblings or relatives who could have taken her in, and so, she had learned to take care of herself.
She had also early on learned that the world didn't take kindly to people that were even remotely different from their perception of normal.
Especially beings who had a reputation to torture innocent souls for fun.
Y/n could not blame mortals for hating fae, as she herself hated them, though for completely different reasons.
It was not the best experience when you were scorned by the people you were a part of.
Hated by mortals for being a product of human-fae union, and hated by fae for being a half breed.
She sighed, shooing those thoughts away as she reached the cluster of trees she had been on the journey to, and set down her basket for a moment, stretching.
The fox settled down under an apple tree, and simply stared at Y/n as she went about plucking different fruits and berries and piling them in her basket.
Once she was done, she turned to glance at the fox, who sat unnaturally still.
She thought for a moment, then picked out a juicy apple from her basket. "You want one?"
The fox kept staring at her, and Y/n felt silly for trying to communicate with a fox. She huffed, putting the apple back in her basket and beginning to make the journey back to her little cottage.
•○🌑○•
"Do you think it will storm?"
The fox cocked its head, staring up at the sky before making a small noise, which Y/n took as affirmation.
"I think so too."
While a month ago Y/n would have laughed at herself for talking to -trying to talk to- an animal, now it had become normal. The darn fox never left her side nowadays, and Y/n had grown fond of him, letting him into her house and keeping him fed and warm. She had even named him Rusty.
Rusty glanced at Y/n before it settled down, laying his head on her lap, snuggling into the soft and fluffy material of her thick leggings.
A small smile made its way onto Y/n's face, and her hand lifted of its own accord, burying itself into the fur on the top of his head.
Y/n still remembered how she had felt uncomfortable around the fox because of the unnatural aura it gave off, but she had gotten used to it. Now, it was a companion who Y/n simply adored.
A long moment passed, and Y/n was not entirely sure it wasn't hours, but the sky darkened just a fraction.
Y/n glanced up in confusion, because she was sure it had been brighter just a moment before. Suddenly, the warmth in her lap vanished, and Y/n's head snapped down, her brows furrowed.
Rusty was no longer next to Y/n. He was across the clearing, and Y/n could not fathom how he had crossed the vast area so quickly. Her suspicions about him grew, and she realized his body was beginning to shake.
Y/n quickly rolled to her feet, her eyes growing wide when he began spasming, a tortured whine escaping him. She could do nothing but stare as his paws dug into the soft ground, pain filled sounds continuing to rip from him.
The moment Y/n stepped forward, hoping to do something to help Rusty, his head snapped up, a low growl he emitted leaving her frozen in place. And his eyes...
They were glowing.
Unnatural, completely otherworldly brightness radiated from him, his aura becoming ten times different from what it had been.
Y/n watched, her blood chilling, as he continued to struggle until the smell of something burnt reach Y/n.
Everything stilled after that, and Rusty collapsed, breaths heaving out of him.
And, the place where his paws had been, was nothing but burnt remains of the leaves fallen from the trees
Y/n studied the fox until he had gained enough strength to stand again, and his eyes stared back at Y/n.
She swallowed as the fox prowled closer. "You are not a real fox, are you?"
Rusty swung his head from side to side, his eyes boring into Y/n.
She nodded, wondering why she was even surprised. "Are you fae?"
His head dipped.
Y/n dragged her palms down her face, trying not to lose her shit.
"Why are you here? What do you want from me?"
He cocked his head, as if questioning her how he was supposed to answer.
She released a frustrated breath, going through all the reasons why a shapeshifter would follow her around.
She could only find one reasonable reason.
"Have you... have you been cursed?"
The fox dipped his head slowly, and Y/n took a step back, horrified.
"And you are here because you... what? Want me to break you free?"
The fox whined, taking a step forward.
"No." She stepped back again, continuing until her back hit a tree. "Fuck. No. I will not be used and discarded by you too. I will not..."
The sadness in the fox's -Rusty's -eyes nearly brought Y/n to her knees, but the fox simply dipped its head again after a moment, turning and prowling away from the clearing and, in turn, Y/n.
She watched him go, his shoulders curved inwards, looking defeated.
And, despite her instincts telling her to go behind him, she turned away too, walking in the opposite direction, towards her small hut.
•○🌑○•
The windows shook, their sound a little too loud in the small home, and Y/n's fingers curled tighter on the book, the pages crinkling under her fingers.
Thunder cracked somewhere, and Y/n flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. With a sigh, she put her book away, tugging her blanket closer for warmth. She turned to look out the window, where it was completely dark, not one tree visible.
And, despite her attempts at trying to ignore her worries about Rusty, she could not help but wonder where he was.
Was he somewhere in the forest, getting soaked by the rain, shivering?
Was he wandering around hopelessly, hoping someone took pity on him?
Y/n shook her head, telling herself she did not care.
But of course, she did.
Since the moment she had turned away from his retreating form, she had not been able to think about anything but him.
Y/n had never had anyone that particularly cared about her, so having even a damned fox use her for his own gain cut something deep in her heart.
But then a thought occurred to her, and all her feelings of betrayal were forgotten.
What if it is a child?
Or what if it is just like me, never had anyone who cared?
What if he gets incinerated in the storm by lightning?
Oh fuck it.
The second to last thought was what snapped Y/n's restraint, and she grabbed her cloak, lit a lantern, and set off to find her Rusty.
•○🌑○•
The rain made it even harder to see in the night, but Y/n soldiered on, determined to rescue the damsel in distress. Though the damsel was a male and could probably not be in distress.
He could have found a cave to snooze in, and Y/n was setting herself up to be sick for nothing.
Her heart didn't seem to care for that judging by the way it was screeching in her ears.
A flash of light caught Y/n's eyes, and she stilled, lifting her lantern higher, hoping she had finally found the sneaky bastard.
It was just a piece of glass, and Y/n cursed whoever had thrown it here.
After a long time of searching, Y/n spied a gap in the trees, knowing it led to a small cliff. Her instincts told her to follow the trail, and she decided trusting her heart was the better option than trusting her brain.
She had decided to ignore her heart in that clearing, and now she was stuck in a storm.
Lightning brightened the world for a moment, and Y/n lifted her hand to shield herself as she reached the cliff.
Unfortunately, Rusty was not there as well.
Frustrated, Y/n sighed, turning away from the drop.
And then she paused, her eyes landing on a bush.
Under which lay Rusty, shivering and curled in on himself.
Guilt spread through Y/n, and she stepped closer with caution.
His eyes flew open, his teeth bared as he searched around for a predator.
His eyes widened when he realised it was Y/n who stood in front of him now, and he ducked his head, as if ashamed.
Y/n walked forward, and watched as his shoulders curved inwards, trying to make himself small.
She crouched, extending her hands towards him, and he stared at it for a moment, then at Y/n before taking a tentative step closer, gaining more confidence when her hand remained unwavering. He stopped a few with his face a few inches away from her hand, and she reached out to pet his nose.
"Come," she whispered, "let's go home."
He stared at her for a moment longer, and Y/n felt like there were tears in his eyes, but she couldn't be sure because it could very well be rain water.
Navigating the forest to return home was much easier and faster than it had been searching for Rusty, and Y/n was glad about that, as she could think of nothing but changing into warm clothes and getting warmed in front of her fireplace now that she had finally found Rusty. Also, she had to wash Rusty and feed him. It had been long since he had left and Y/n doubted that he had eaten anything.
As soon as Y/n stepped foot inside her home, she shucked off her cloak, setting down her lantern and turning to find that Rusty still hadn't crossed the threshold.
"Come on in, Rusty."
She beckoned to him, and he trotted in, shaking his head to get rid of the water.
"Let's get you into a warm bath first."
Y/n hurried into the bathing room and turned on the faucets, letting the tub fill with warm water. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced back to see Rusty sitting patiently by the door, like a gentleman. Y/n smiled.
"Get in." She told him when the water had filled to the point she knew he liked. "I will go and get changed, and you get yourself cleaned up until then. We can have food after."
At the last part, his head snapped up, his eyes wide. But then he jumped into the tub, and Y/n was left to wonder why he seemed so shocked.
•○🌑○•
Y/n wrapped the tiny towel around Rusty, giggling at how funny he looked before she placed the red coloured bowl in front of Rusty, his favourite.
She stared at him as he began eating, and stared, and stared.
The air changed the moment he took his first bite, growing thicker and heavier with every moment that passed.
Confused, Y/n glanced behind her, and when she turned back to rusty, she let out a small scream.
In the place that Rusty had been occupying, sat a man... naked.
Y/n had never climbed to her feet so quick in her whole life as she did then, covering her eyes. But then she peeked out from between her fingers, seeing him blushing furiously while trying to cover up his private parts with the tiny towel. It was barely enough to cover up his chest, so he had to hold it with both hands like a curtain in front of his hips.
"Who the hell are you?" Y/n screeched.
She noticed now that he had hair like liquid flame, his eyes were mismatched, and he was... fae.
Realisation washed through Y/n.
"You- You're Rusty."
He grimaced. "Yeah, though I am a little concerned with that name. Can we please not use that? Like, Rusty? Really?"
Y/n let her hands fall to her side, settling on her hips. "You bastard, you should be grateful I let you stay and gave you a name. Imagine how weird it would have been in if I called you fox."
"Yeah, I think that would have been better than Rusty."
Y/n scoffed. After a moment, she spoke again, struggling hard to keep her gaze on his. She deserved a fucking medal for it.
"So... what was your curse? And who had so much free time to put one on you?"
A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Don't you think this is kind of inappropriate to talk about while I'm naked?"
Y/n rolled her eyes as she moved past him, walking into her bedroom. "You never had a problem before when you pranced about, wooing all the female foxes."
She was now sure he was grinning when he replied. "Yeah well, they didn't wear any clothes either. If you were to strip..."
Y/n whipped around from where she was rummaging in her closet for something to gape at him. He grinned, leaning against the doorframe, his hands folded against his chest.
That meant-
Y/n turned away from him just as fast as she had turned to him, and no matter how much she denied it, the image of him... it would be forever embedded in her mind.
"Asshole." She mumbled under her breath, her hand landing on a piece of clothing she was unfamiliar with.
It was a pant she had stolen years ago, and later realised it had been too big for her. It would have to do.
Without turning, Y/n threw the pants over her shoulder, and by the lack of sound, knew Rusty had caught it.
It was a few moment before he hummed, letting her know he was done, and Y/n turned, her mouth going dry at all the muscle displayed.
She hadn't had the time to appreciate what she saw before, as she was trying not to make a fool of herself by staring at his privates, but now that he was covered from the waist down, she could not help but stare at what she could see.
"Like what you see?"
Y/n's eyes flashed up, colour staining her cheeks as she huffed.
"Of course not. You are still Rusty for me, and I'd never think of someone called Rusty as anything I like."
He scoffed. "Please, my name is Lucien. I'd appreciate it if you stop referring to me as Rusty."
She lifted her chin defiantly. "No."
He sighed. "Very well, my lady. If that is what you wish for. After all, you broke my curse, I can't really order you around anymore."
"Yes, about that curse. Care to elaborate now that you are appropriate?"
He nodded, a seriousness coming over him. He followed her as she led him back out, settling down in front of the fireplace as she boiled some water for tea.
Once the tea was ready, Y/n passed one cup to Rusty- Lucien- and studied him, watching as he fumbled a little with the cup before he got a good grip on it.
"Let's start from the beginning." She nodded her head for him to continue. "Do you remember the most recent war that happened?"
She nodded. The destruction had been immense, according to what she had heard through rumours, but she lived far enough away from the wall that no harm reached her.
"There was a continent called Hybern. One of my closest friends was pretending to aid Hybern so he could gather intel about the kingdom's and the king's inner workings so he could help Prythian when the inevitable war came. Soldiers from Hybern had stolen the cauldron from its resting place in Prythian, and they knew that it could make anyone young and immortal."
"What is the cauldron?"
Lucien glanced at Y/n with raised brows, but explained to her what the cauldron was, who the mother was, and all the things that probably didn't matter to the story just because she didn't know about them.
A power like that? People would kill for it. Y/n thought.
"My friend's past lover, who had been mated to another high lord, arrived in Hybern, and realised her sisters had been kidnapped. The king ordered the sisters to be put into the cauldron. One of them turned out to be my... mate."
The jealousy that ripped through Y/n was unmatched from anything she had ever felt. And for what? The mention of someone she did not even know? Ridiculous.
"The older one, she apparently took something from the cauldron, in turn making the cauldron take away the youth from the human queen put in after her. The queen was furious, and she allied with a powerful death sorcerer."
"He found out about my... relationship with one of the sisters, and before we killed him, put a curse on me, because I was standing the closest to him. He turned me into a fox, and I could only be turned back if someone who loathed fae gave me shelter and food, even after knowing I was fae."
"Powerful death sorcerer, and all he could think of for his last breath was to turn you into a fox." Y/n muttered under her breath.
A breathy laugh escaped Lucien, which then full on turned into howls of laughter.
"So, what, your mate could not help?"
"She probably could have, given she couldn't bear being near me, but she wouldn't have. Me being a fox gave her freedom to pursue whomever she wished."
Y/n sighed. "Is everyone from the other side of the wall dumb?"
He shook his head, staring into the embers of the fire, though a smile remained on his mouth. Y/n glanced out the window, realising the sun was starting to rise.
"We should probably get some sleep."
Lucien followed her gaze to out the window, and he nodded.
"I will take the couch, you should sleep on your bed."
"Nonsense. You have been invading my space for the past month like your life depends on it. It won't be a big deal if you sleep next to me."
"Sleep next to you, not with you?"
"You know what? You can sleep on the porch."
He laughed, standing and pulling Y/n to her feet.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek.
"Thank you."
Y/n blushed, shaking her head.
"I will leave as soon as I can."
Hurt pierced Y/n's heart like a bolt from hell. "Why?"
His brows furrowed. "Why? I have taken enough advantage of you. I don't want to impose."
She shook her head again. "I like when you impose."
He smiled.
"If you say so."
•○🌑○•
General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392
Lucien Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @mirandasidefics @sidrapotter @hnyclover
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leviscolwill · 4 months
Text
something in the way you put your hands on my waist ★
pairing: bsf!levi colwill x reader
req: congrats to 600 followers! 🩷 may i request number 8 with levi colwill? ("arms wrapped around your lovers neck")
note: what can i tell, i love a good cliché trope. thank u for requesting anon 🫶🏻
now playing killer by fka twigs...
of course being levi's fake date for his cousin's wedding was a terrible idea. so, of course, you accepted.
if there was any person you would follow blindly, even if they had the worst idea, that would be your best friend.
it was just a small favor after all, saving him from a stupid bet he did with his cousin back when he got engaged; if he didn't have a girlfriend to bring as his plus-one to his cousin's wedding, levi would have to give away his insta password for a whole day.
he had a couple girlfriends during that year between the engagement and the wedding, but nothing too serious, surely not anyone he could take to a family wedding. and you couldn't say no when he said there was no one he'd rather go with.
your thoughts were interrupted by levi's hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck when the beat of the song got slower, the first notes to just the two of us played out and brought a smile on both your faces.
he had been dancing with you all night, very aware of how he was pretty much the only person you knew at the wedding, despite introducing you to every family member and friends, putting extra emphasis on the fact you were his girlfriend, for the night at least.
but something about this song, about the way his hands were the perfect fit for your waist. made all the laughs and small talks all around you subside, and you could somehow, in all the noise, only focus on the man standing dangerously close to you.
your giggles were levi's favourite sound, and he felt like he could die a happy man like this, making you twirl, your laugh floating in the air before your fingers found their place back to his neck, rubbing circles softly.
you knew what was going to happen next, something you found yourself daydreaming of quite often. his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips while yours bore in his, unrelenting, silently daring him to make a move.
one of his hands left your waist to let his fingers brush against your lips ever so softly, as if he was scared to break you.
ever the pessimist one, choosing to put levi in charge of the positive side of your duo instead, you always complained about the obvious realism in your romance books whenever the main character mentioned something about feeling like you were 'the only people on earth'.
but that's how it felt, perpetual nothingness in your mind if it wasn't for levi's touch.
"can i?" his voice brought you back a bit closer to reality, although everything about it still felt like a dream.
you didn't trust yourself to speak right now, instead opting for a small nod, big enough for levi to get the green light.
his fingers tilted your face up, but he still had to bend a bit to be at the perfect distance to finally kiss you, he made you wait a couple more seconds though, scanning your face, to count every single freckle, every beauty mark, every little thing that made you, you.
and he then leaned in, connecting your lips. standing on your tippy toes desperately chasing more. your fingers slightly scratching the skin at the back of his neck, if you let go of him your knees would probably give up on you, so this only gave you more of a reason to hold on to him for dear life.
everything was better than in any of your dreams, or in any of levi's dreams for that matter. it was a kiss that left you breathless, literally. you had to push levi's chest to catch your breath seeing as he wouldn't stop anytime soon.
the small trace of common sense remaining urged you to check if anyone in attendance had an horrified look on their face at the unexpected pda, but everyone was just enjoying the wedding. the world around you didn't change one bit, but you knew this action changed the course of your relationship with your best friend.
when you looked up at him, his eyes were already on yours. you couldn't help the laugh at the smudged lipstick on levi's lips, quickly wiping it away with your thumb.
your little moment was interrupted by levi's cousin playfully slapping his back, “not gonna lie, i thought you were gonna pull a trick to get out of the bet, but it's nice meeting your girlfriend still."
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mrsmiagreer · 11 months
Text
Favorite Redacted quotes but the list gets longer everytime I find a new one
“And the energizer bunny…Takes a tumble” -Milo
“Is this why you put up with my memes and shit? Because i gotta big dick and a great ass??” - Guy
“WHAT ECHO?!” — ALL OF REDACTED aka echo
“Do you love me?” — Imp!Damien
“Keep his name out of your FUCKING mouth” -Sam
“Laying in comfortable silence, hands roaming lazily betwixt our supine bodies, tracing gentle patterns across supple skin…Yes that was all about my eyes😂” — Guy
“This isn’t like a dog or something. Like normal wolves are big. Shifter wolves are even bigger…and i’m on the bigger end of that too” -David
“Is David being a total groomzilla about your side? Oop— Heard that-” Asher
“But I bet I’d lay down for it” — Vincent
“Make it two” —Sam
“Great deal on a large sausage” —Guy
“Will you marry me, Angel?” —David
“….Isn’t that right??” “Heyyy no tickling!!” — Gavin and Caelum
“No not just yes…say the words…say the whole thing” —Vincent
“Ohh— You are getting close! Hi! Hi baby….I love youuu” —Guy
“We are NOT matching. I am wearing my work clothes, YOU’RE wearing contraband” — David
“someone please get the gentleman a door prize”— Blake
“I was thinking a little less nature documentary and little more battle bots you know like i want you to just fucking SNAP me like a twig😭” -Guy
“No! You can’t tell me I taste good >:(” — Lasko
“Who are you and what have you done with my lover??” — Guy
“I know baby I know” — Milo
“Staaapppp you’re being rude… Yes RUDE you heard me!” —Guy
“…..do it— hmmmMmMmMmm okay okay….That had a little less finesse than i’m used to” —Milo
“You know what wordplay reminds me of? Tounge twisters!! And you know what tongue twisters remind me of? Tongue kissing!! Let’s explore that topic shall we?” —Guy
“The goal is healin me, you can’t be hittin me at the same time” —Milo
“Show me that wagon ya draggin sexy uehh” -Guy
“Who’s that bitch we hate?” — Asher
“Any hole is a goal” — Guy
“Just move your ass…..hmm i didn’t mean to move it quite like that but you’ll get no complaints outta me” —David
“My mouth is good for a lot more than just…talkin” —Milo
“It’s our bedroom….It’s our bed” —Geordi
“Hey Baaaaabyy” —Ollie
“I’ve sat with these feelings long enough to know how to manage them I promise” —Blake
“Call me that one more time and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow” —David
“I cant be another mistake…because it’ll break me” —Blake
“I’m sure seeing him is like….like those healing classes. A nice diversion😊” —President Moore
“Milo…play nice” — Imp!Asher
“You don’t have to order anyone to do it…Just take volunteers” — Imp!Milo
“I just set my fucking curtains on fire” -Damien
“Who taught you how to do healing magic?? A construction worker with a jackhammer?!” —Milo
“You’re taking me so fucking good” —Milo
“I’m trying to get off of you…I don’t wanna crush you” —David
“Awe yeah i often walk into work with shotgun shells in my fucking brief case” —Milo
“I cant read your mind baby” — Vincent
“Welcome home my love. How was your day?” -Gavin
“Park it on me Sweetheart” — Milo
“That does not feel like searching for a key Lovely” —Vincent
“Do i need to set this stuff down or are you gonna behave?” —Vincent
“Yeah, no thinking about work today. Or we’ll come over there and kick your ass” —Milo
“Hey…sorry i’m late” —Blake
“Do I look like i care??” —Blake
“I’m a grown ass man” —Milo
“I DON’T whimper…” —Damien
“You know what we do to…Bad Boyss around here—💀💀💀” —Guy
“Did I really just get drive by kink shamed??!” —Asher
“Awweee poor baby” —Asher
“Keep it in your pants you two. I already mopped this morning😒” —David
“…boop” —Sam
“I don’t want this for you baby” —Milo
“Boot Licker” —Milo
“I’ll always find you” —Avior
“Wexler, Greer is causing problems at the west entrance” — That One Guard😭
“That wasn’t rhetorical. Answer me” —Imp!Damien
“I love you more than human words can convey” —Gavin
“Yes baby” —Gavin
“Ruth Holland are you here? Hello? Hello?” —Milo
“Fuck, bounce on my fucking dick” — Guy
“Moan. They moaned. You moaned.” — Geordi
“Pfftttt hahaha- Okay— WuHwuhWwaA—” — Guy
“This isn’t happening!!” — Ivan
“I don’t like you, and I’m not going to” — Alexis
“Hold still i’ll grab you one of mine” — Milo
“Bad. Worse. Better.” — Vincent
“Go kick that ass….champ? Oh God-” — Lasko
“No can do baby” -Huxley
“I’m just fucking with you” — Sam Collins
“I needa stop saying fuck. Fuck. Sorry. And i needa stop saying sorry. fuck. sorry. FUCK i mean FUCK so— oh fuck😭 Oh my god i am such an idiot” — Lasko
“I wanna touch” — Stranger/Caller/John..?
“Fuck! Fuck me—” — Lasko Moore
“Can I cum on you?” — Milo Greer
“I am not gonna have ants runnin round my house cause of you😭” — Sam Collins
“It is not funny, you FUCK” — Milo Greer
“I’ll spank your ass brat. Not like it’d be the first time. Or the last.” — Milo Greer
“You’ll be safe” — Blake
“Well of course it’s gaudy. I made it” — Gavin
“Shit Darlin. You really weren’t gonna say anything about this?” — Sam Collins
“It’s all good” — Huxley
“I hate to make a guy lose his fuckin’ noodles” — Milo Greer
“Where do you want these fangs baby?” — Sam Collins
“Do you have any idea just how much energy is coming off of you right now?” — Fool!Gavin
“Sorry” —Fool!James
“I gotta go faster before i start…fucking…crying or something😭” — Asher
(I will be updating this list when i find/remember new ones😊)
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alevicke · 6 months
Note
Hii!! I saw requests were open!! I was wondering, if you write for trickster, could you write some headcanons of trickster with a survivor s/o who’s very clingy and cuddly and wants constant cuddles from him? Like she’d even go up to him during a trial and beg him to cuddle with her.
Hi! Thank you for requesting, it's actually the first time in my life someone requests something ^^ i hope you don't mind that I added The Huntress and The Spirit as well because I'm weak for them 💖 I'll use gn reader! Hope you like it 💖
Killer x clingy!reader
Characters: Trickster, The Huntress and The Spirit
No TWs! Or if you think something should be mentioned let me know. Also sorry for the mistakes, English isn't my native language and I have no one to proof read this D:
Trickster:
For this man it really depends how much you know each other or if you're already together (just as with anyone else in reality)
To be fair, he's famous and handsome. He knows already people want to cuddle him, he's well used to crazy fan girls who could do ANYTHING to even get close to him. Cuddling is a FANTASY for them.
But so is for you. Although you see more than the others. When the others think about Trickster they think about the softness of his skin, the sweet voice whispering in their ears, the fingers along their skin... But that's about it, they only see a pretty face to cling onto, a trophy and Trickster knows that
But he always felt something different from you
You didn't look at him like a crazy fangirl who would rip his fingers just to have something from him closer. You were seeing more from him
At first, he would shrug, laugh at you and keep you away using his bat like a long twig to keep the distance. No touchy for people he doesn't know. You could have your fingers dirty with oil from the generators and ruin his amazing skin routine that takes so much time to do
You get closer to him to hug him in a trial? Oh heck no (not yet)
But as time passes and you keep wanting to stay by his side even when he doesn't allow you to touch him, he starts to slowly allow you closer. It's not like suddenly, one day, he will let you hug him, but will slowly allow you to sit closer, some days he will let you grab his hand so you can see his new nail polish, to see his make up that turned amazing today...
And day by day you realize he's way more comfortable around you until he finally wraps his arm around your shoulder, allowing you to cuddle in his chest.
He's warm and sweet once he finally trusts you, he's careful not to mess with your hair and he touches you so gently as if he was scared he could break you
He will start allowing you to hug him, he doesn't mind you doing it if it's not getting in the middle of his routines or similar or if it's a situation when no one can be in danger. He would never forgive himself if you get hurt trying to hug him in a trial or similar so he sets that strict rule. But once everyone is dead in the trial? You're more than welcome between his arms. He's just scared of hurting you. He truly wants to hug you in the trial but it's impossible to do it without it being dangerous for both of you.
Although, he often allows you to be the last survivor so you both can cuddle while he finishes off one of your team mates down
When you hug him he specially loves having your hair closer to him. No matter if it's curly, straight, short, long, blonde, brunettte, black or dyed, he likes your hair a lot and the sweet smell of it.
It's not unusual for him to fall asleep cuddling with you once you both are used to this. He likes to be the big spoon but doesn't mind being the small one every now and then
It takes him more time for him to allow you to pet his hair though. He's still over protective of his hairstyle
THE HUNTRESS:
She's so confused the first time you try to hug her. It doesn't happen out of the blue or else she would completely kill you for touching her when she didn't want to and could only see you as a survivor, but it's still strange
She had a really hard trial. Every now and then, Anna cannot help but let the feelings overwhelm her. She lost her mother long ago and has been alone on her own for so long and while she is strong, god knows that, she is sometimes that scared child that wishes to be hold by someone. It doesn't matter how many muscles she has, it doesn't matter how strong she is nor how tall she is compared to the others. She still has a sweet heart and love to give inside but doesn't know how to
And after a really hard trial with everyone flashing her, breaking pallets in her back even several times, you found her sitting on the ground.
It seemed like the rest had already given up from annoying tf out of her and already escaped. They stole all they could from the map and after basically emptying the flashlight batteries on her, there was nothing else fun to do there, more taking in mind that Anna seemed to had given up
You have been there against her in a few trials already. That wasn't normal. She was always so strong and amazing! You always admired it. Her figure, her muscles and her strength to carry on. Deep down you just wanted to hold onto those muscles and cuddle against her
But you found a defeated Anna and... You still wanted to cuddle her, but in a bit different way
Anna barely looked up when she heard your footsteps. She thought one of the survivors didn't had enough yet. But she was surprised to see you, softly tilting her head. She thought you would have escaped like the others. You were always nice. But you were there still. Did you want to laugh at her as well?
Her jaw almost drops when you lean down to her figure and hug her. You can feel her muscles tense and for a moment you feel scared you fcked up and she would kill you. But you slowly felt her body relax under your embrace
She took you in her arms, sat you on her lap and covered your figure in her embrace. You felt happy you were finally able to get close to the giant woman and she felt happy she finally had someone to hug. Your embrace meant the world to her in that moment
From that time, things between you were different. She was never too hard against you in trials because you weren't mean, but since then, she was always missing shots with you. Oops, she was clumsy that day, haha, right? Oh shit there goes Nea's head, that was so accurate
But no axe against your skin
She loved having you around, feeling your arms trying to embrace her large figure. You could feel her chest puff as she would laugh whenever you tried your best to completely hug her but couldn't.
She had no restrictions. You could hug her whenever and however you wanted. But PLEASE, be careful with her axes! Those are extremely sharp!
Everytime you hugged her and tried to cling onto her, if you are ok, she would happily hold you in her arms and put you on her shoulders. Sometimes she would pick you up bridal style and bring you everywhere until she finds a nice spot to cuddle with you
For quite some time she isn't comfortable taking her mask off. But if you give her enough time and don't pressure her, she will eventually take it off to snuggle with you. She loves pressing her face against you, to feel your warmth and see that she isn't alone anymore
THE SPIRIT
What? You wanted to hug her? Why? Her whole body is covered by broken glass!
She doesn't trust you the first times you try to get close to her. She will always attack, hiss you and push you away. She doesn't want you any closer to her. She has the feeling you're trying a weird trick on her to hurt her. She doesn't know what, but she is so sure no one would want to be closer to her. At least not for something good
But she starts to see little by little that you aren't hurting her and you're being pretty gentle with her. As gentle as you can actually be against a killer trying to kill you. But you seemed sad to have to break pallets on her back and you hissed in pain when you could see the pieces of glass get deeper in her skin with each hit. Like... You felt empathy for her?
She had so many mixed feelings from that. She knew you wanted to get close to her, she knew you weren't hurting her. But she didn't know why? She couldn't understand that someone could appreciate her enough to get closer due to what she went through and what her body had
She doesn't really speak your language so she doesn't even know how to ask you what do you want or what your intentions are. But you realize that every attempt you make to get closer to her is slowly being a bit more succesful than the previous one
Oh, don't think it's gonna take you just a few, no. It's gonna take you probably a lot more than a month or even a few months for her to finally trust you to get closer to her. But patience is the key with her. She has suffered so much even from people closer to her she has struggles trusting
The first time you try to reach her hand, she struggles to keep her physical form. She "glitches" trying to process your action but doesn't move away until you finally grab her hand, carefully, softly. Your thumb caress her cold skin and she barely moves. She's speechless, but feeling someone elses' touch is like a dream for her
She almost melts in your touch, if it wasn't because she can't...
She is ok with you holding her hand pretty often, but the attemps to hug her are way harder. Is not like she doesn't trust you, the opposite, she trusts you and doesn't want to hurt you
Trust me when I say she wishes with her whole soul to hug you and get some comfort cuddling with you, but she is so SCARED to hurt you. It doesn't matter how many times you tell her it's ok because you have medkits and nothing can really go THAT bad down the entitie's eyes. She won't allow a survivor to die outside a trial. But she's still is scared to hurt you
Although, you end up managing to find the best spots to hug her avoiding all her pieces of glass. It's a work between you both but you find several cuddling poses that keep your arms and hands and even your body away from the sharp edges
True, every now and then you hiss in pain feeling a cut. And she still tries to run away when she realizes she has hurt you. But you still manage to calm her down and keep her on your side
She learnt to take care of your wounds in the most soft possible way so cuddles become way more frequent. She's so in love with your hugs !
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carlplsrailme · 2 years
Text
𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐛 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬
summary: as Carl and Ron battle out over Y/n's attention, she realizes she felt something never before for one of them
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carl grimes x fem!reader
cw: jealousy, petty boys, breaking into readers home, fluff & smut, fingering, pussy eating, breast play, virginity loss, nice dom!carl, pet names (baby, doll), a bit of dacryphilia, sex (no condom).
word count: 2k
request (1) : ahhh i absolutely LOVE your work ohmygod😭 could you maybe write a oneshot where the reader is a newcomer in alexandria and catches carl’s eye but ron also develops a crush on them and the boys kinda just battle for the reader’s attention 😩 and my boy carl wins obviously 💪with maybe some smut too
request (2) : hey i was wondering if you could write something like carl fingering the reader but it’s not enough and she wants more but carl doesn’t wanna hurt her because he’s really big so she tells him ‘please i promise it won’t hurt i can take it’ and he ends up giving in but when she’s whining and tearing up he mocks her for it then just goes harder saying ‘is this what you wanted’ with a lot of degrading and some praise at the end? sorry if it’s too much :)
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you suck the inside of your cheek as you started to be dragged by Ron, sticky summer heat on your open legs as he takes you to his table to eat lunch...tho you would much rather stick by yourself, the urge to please these new folks consumed you -you were their guest, after all.
so you bit your tongue and wore a smile, slightly widening your eyes when his voice raises in excitement as he is in deep with a story you know nothing about, mimicking his features as you're too caught up in your thoughts to know whats actually happening
you're new to Alexandria, wandering out by yourself when Carl found you -the knife in your hand was about to be in his throat when you first spotted him, hiding behind boxes as his eyes landed on yours, in shock you froze how did he see you? but Carl was a lot more observant than you thought 
which leads to now, where he uses his observant skills for pure evil
"Hey," he says casually, strolling over as you almost immediately catch how Ron's face drops 
"Hey" you say, quickly smiling at him as Rons bitterly states"Hi"
"So, Y/n, we still on for today?" Fuck. why did he have to mention we have plans today?
"Oh..uh, yeah" you answer, eyes slowly shifting to the side to see a very displeased Ron
"Cool. see you then" he smiled proudly, looking at Ron for what you can only assume to be for a reaction -which he totally gave him- and walked away
"What's happening today?" He asked, trying to sound relaxed but irritation lacing each word
"Oh, it's just...um, me and carl are just gonna hang out" you quickly mumble, messing with your food as the atmosphere became even more uncomfortable
"Oh that sucks, I was hoping to spend the day with you" he leaves open-ended, half expecting and half hoping for you to move your plans with Carl and replace it with his
"maybe tomorrow" you puckered your lips before standing up with a smeared plate in hand, mumbling how you'll see him later as you sped walked away from that table
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"why do you love pissing him off?" you questioned as you stepped over fallen tree branches and pointy twigs, Carl's hand gently strolling you away to a place you know nothing about
"I don't" he said almost planned, thank goodness you couldn't see the smirk on his face, you were about to answer right back but the halt of his footsteps caught up to you
"Ta-da!" he announces proudly, spinning to you with a nervous smile, hoping you'd like the creation he built just for you two
your eyes laned on a fallen trunk that was wiped clean from any soggy rain and unexpecting plants, you felt your lips tug into a smile as you notice an open locker tucked full of comics and forgotten sodas piled up on the blanket laid out for comfort
"wow...Carl, you made this?" You say in half disbelief, why would he make this...for you?
"yeah, for us- I mean anyone but like...yeah" he stumbles on his words as he dips his head down, hoping you wouldn't catch the blush on his cheeks for admitting that yes, this was made special for the both of you
"t-the sodas are warm, sorry, but um- the comics are there if you wanna read them...I didn't know what you'd like so sorry if they're boring-" he got cut off by your hand hitting his hat up from behind, blinding him for a couple of seconds as his shoulders tensed from the sudden attack, you laugh and mumble "you're such a dork" and take a seat at the fallen tree, grabbing one of the sodas and cracking it open as Carl quickly sits next to you, whispering "'m not" while he grabs a comic
that night you laid in your bed with a smile stuck on your lips, hanging out with Carl made it seem like the world didn't go to shit. he made you so unbelievably happy and you just couldn't help but prayed he felt the same. but there was any other feeling deep in you that you couldn't quite read, you weren't sure how you felt, all you knew is that you wanted to stay with Carl and stay reading comics and drinking warm sodas together
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"no, because...what the fuck" 
the boys look at you, irritation leaving their eyes and their features becoming fearful as they see your presence
you heard a struggle break out from downstairs, you raced down -knife in hand- to see Carl and Ron fighting with some burning eggs on the stove
and now they are sitting in front of you, messing with their fingertips with their heads low, you're sitting in front of them with crossed arms and a scowl on your face
"so, what the fuck happened"
"Carl was acting weird so I followed him, he came in through your front door and-" "BULLSHIT!" Carl shouted, turning to him with pure confusion and rage hyping up his veins
"Let him finish" you announce, exhausted from being abruptly woken up at 6 am
though, you weren't so tired that you missed how Ron smirked at what he thought was you defending him. you only stopped Carl because you wanted to hear this dumbass story he is making up.
"Well, Uhm, He went into your house and then started making you breakfast, I startled him and he freaked out, I was confused why he was sneaking around but then it hit me that he wasn't supposed to be there, so I started fighting him," He said in an innocent tone, bringing his low head up to meet your sharp eyes which he'd assume would soften from his story
you zoned out halfway through, locking eyes with a clock that screamed 8 in the fucking morning.
"Can I say my part now? you know, the truth?" Carl asked, slightly laughing at this bullshit 
"no"
"what?" Carl asked quickly, the hope that he had for you that you'd know him well enough to where he wouldn't do something like this started to slip
"no. but I'll tell mine" you uncrossed your legs as you wore a smile, explaining to the boys that a painting in your room fell off the wall at 6 am, and how you couldn't seem to fall back asleep -especially at a time like that
so when you heard a shout from outside, roughly 7:30, you went to check it out, seeing from your window Carl chasing after Ron as he sneaks into your house, you ran to grab a knife and to sprit downstairs but when you heard Carl defending you and Ron just talking shit about how he's gonna get with you, you decided to listen in, then sprint downstairs with a knife tight in your grip.
Carl wore a smile with slightly pink cheeks as he watched you kick Ron out, calling him a jackass and a lot more vulgar things he'd honestly expect from you when you're pissed off
and when he was gone you sat back down with him, your sour features turning sweet when you saw him
"So, why'd you follow him?" you asked, half joking half curious, as you both break into laughter
"You see a guy walking into a girl's house with his toes, you follow him. simple as that."
.
well, it wasn't as simple as that. as it's 11 pm at your window is being abused by pebbles. you helped the one-eyed boy in as he sat across from you on your bed
"Sorry If I woke you-" "you didn't."
"Uhm so about earlier..." he looked away with blush stuck on his cheeks, stuttering to speak as he takes a deep breath to control himself
"s-so, I have a crush on you- I think- no, I know" 
your eyes widen at the confession, feeling your heart skip and your lips twitch into a smile
"Uhm, it's ok if you don't feel the same- it's just it's been eating me up, so it's uh, sorr-" you cut him off with your lips smashing into his, kissing him deeply as you confess your shared feelings to him
he giggles like a little boy as he laid you down on the bed, hands finding your waist as your lips never separated, he added his tongue which made you moan on accident, his tongue lapped on yours as it twisted and twirled in your mouth, he grabbed your hands and trapped them above your head as you felt this hard jab in your thigh
"s-shit I'm sorry" he confesses, you're confused for a moment before looking down to see his hard-on, you smile and kiss him again, "It's okay" you mumbled on his lips as your hand carried down to his pants, rubbing his dick slowly as he moaned to you
"Carl, c-can we?" you asked, hinting at the word as embarrassment showers over you
"y-yes, if you are ok with it," he said like you didn't just ask, his shaky fingertips unbutton your shorts, pulling them down to see your pretty little clothed cunt, he groaned at the sight, placing his thumb right at the hood of your clit applying more pressure as you squirmed and whined
you hurried to remove your shirt and bra, being left in your panties as he was left in his boxers, he move down to be face to face with the outlined portion of your cunt, kissing and sucking at your thighs before pulling your panties down, a string of wetness connected to the material as you look away in embarrassment and he simply chuckles 
"aw, don't look away baby" he coos, you look down to see him between your thighs, flashing you a pure smile before dipping down to your drooling pussy, licking a sharp line up your slit and watching as you moaned out his name
he went back in, basically making out with your pussy as he moves up to your clit, pressing his tongue on your clit as he applies more pressure, you squirm in his hold as he ruthlessly and repeatedly flicks his tongue against your clit
he reached a hand up to mess with your breasts, squeezing enough to make you moan but never too hard as he rolled his thumb over your nipple and rolled his tongue over your clit
"f-fuck Carl, p-please don't stop!"
with his other hand, he enters your hole with one finger, slowly as you scream his name
he kissed your clit as he moved up to watch your tight little hole struggle to fit one of his fingers
"mm, baby, how are we gonna do this?" he asked, slightly laughing as your hole clenched and unclenched around him. if just his finger getting sucked in deeper was too much, what was his cock gonna do to you?
"w-we can! It'll work, m'promise" you say dizzy headed his finger stretches you out
"It's gonna hurt baby, and that's the last thing I wanna do"
he entered another finger in, you how were screaming as you never felt like this before, Carl chuckled as he saw your eyes glimmer and flash with tears brimming in pleasure
he watched mockingly as he made a V with his fingers, loving the way your little hole tried to close in on em
"I don't know if it'll fit baby, you're tight as ever"
"please! I promise it won't hurt! I-I can take it!" you beg, his fingers are new and amazing but it just isn't enough
he curled his fingers up, and you cried out his name, cum flashing down his fingers as you assume that's his answer
"P-Please just fuck me!" but he didn't respond, no, instead he removes his fingers and rubs them all over your pussy folds, you wore a confused but curious face as Carl looked back up to you,
"what? there's no way it's gonna fit without some sorta lube. " he watched as you smile at him, excited as he moves his boxers down and suddenly you're fearful as ever
he moves his cum soaked fingers over his cock as he jerks it to harden it up even more -like the poor boy wasn't throbbing before-
he moved his tip to your entrance, looking back up to you as he grabbed one of your hands and reassured you if it hurts he'll stop, you nodded and he moved in
you suddenly let out a yelp as his cock moved in, burning and pulling of your walls being stretched was almost unbearable, but you knew that with the pain there will be pleasure
"I- Is the h-head in now?" you whined, he stumbled a confused glance as he confessed that not even the tip was in and you realized you never felt more embarrassed in your life
"don't worry baby It'll be in soon," he said while laughing, you cross your arms and looked away with a pout on your lips too cute not to kiss off, after kisses and complements he was back to the task at hand
your teeth sunk deeper into your lip as you licked the blood that seeped out, fuck, it hurt. it felt like everything was on fire but with Carl in your ear, mumbling "it's okay" and "aww, you're doing so good" it was enough for you to quite literally bite your tongue until it was fully in
Carl was a dream with letting you adjust, he wasn't impatient or pushy, letting you take your time until you were ready.
but when gave him the okay...that Carl was gone.
his cock was relentless, jamming in and out of your tight hole as you whine and pleaded for him to slow down -but deep down you didn't want him to, and he knew it with the way your pussy tightened around him-
his hand landed on your lower abdomen and felt where in dick landed, mumbling "fuck, I'm so deep baby, you feel that?"
"C-Carl please, I-" 
"'I-' what? isn't this what you wanted baby? what happened to "P-Please just fuck me"?" he mocked, you never felt more embarrassed in your life, and it didn't help that the way he mocked you was so fucking hot
he rammed his cock deeper, tip hitting your cervix repeatedly as his grith made you dizzy
"fuck, doesn't it feel good baby? enough whining can get you what you want, huh?" but you couldn't respond, how could you? with your pupils spinning and his hard cock mercilessly forced into your needy pussy
"answer me, doll" 
"y-yes! it please it feels so good!"
his balls smacked against your ass as he continued on at an unruly pace, you fall into a trance of knowing nothing except him and his cock, pretty veins being shown as he removes himself to just the tip and rammed it back into the warm home of your cunt
"do you think Ron's this good, baby?"
"n-no!" he somehow made himself deeper as he asked you again, you moaned louder, "N-NO!" as he kissed you, "that's what I thought"
"C-Carl, I think 'm gonna c-cum" you whispered on his lips, he kissed you once more as he confessed that he was close as well. you moaned as he sped up once more, placing his thumb on your clit as he rubbed the red swollen bud as he taunted you 
"cum baby, wanna see your cream dripping down my cock" his deep voice hissed, he threw his head back as his throat bobbed, brown baby hairs had sweat dripping off them as they stuck onto his face for dear life
"f-fuck! I'm cumming!" you moaned as you came down his cock, he groaned as he held your hand harder and shot his cum deep into your pussy.
he placed himself lovingly on top of you as he kissed your abused lips, he moved your connected hands on your chest as he whispered,
"you did so good baby"
you could only nod as you were completely fucked out, he chucked and kissed you again as he got up to get a warm washcloth
he cleaned you up and cuddled with you, your face digging into his shoulder as he rubbed your back, "I love you" he mumbled, he was nervous but knew that this is how he felt, but he couldn't feel any happier when you whispered back,
"I love you too"
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an: ahhh hi guys! thank you so much for 90 followers! sorry this took so long hehe!! I decided to mix 2 request so I hope you guys don't mind! I really liked this one actually, thank you guys so much for reading & sending stuff in!! lysm, mwah <3
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Can I ask for Croc and Bane with a short s/o? Just any general hcs having to do with height differences or how they see their s/o. (For example, do they feel extra protective of them, do they feel they need to be more careful?)
Killer Croc and Bane with a short reader
I mean if you wanna get technical, EVERYONE is short to them.
Tw: there's like one Suggestive line
Killer croc
- oh my god the (affectionate) clowning around he would do with a tiny s/o.
- Have you seen that meme where a short person puts their camera on their taller partner to see how they "look" to said partner? He wants you to do that and is probably guffawing at your reaction. You're so tiny! That's how he sees you all the time!
- He tries his best to not use too much strength with you. He just knows he's fucking ripped and big w/ claws. He's more worried about past/current anger issues hurting you more than you being small.
- In fact, you being so small means he can pick you up like a sack and sling you over his shoulder like it's nothing. (He thinks its SO funny if you fuss about it.) Yeah, he could do it to any of his partners given his strength but it's so EASY with you, fun size!
- oh you are going to get so many goofy ass nicknames related to your height- fun size, short stack, baby bird, his little beignet..... and he knows how ridiculous they sound.
- He will be very protective in certain venues, however. Concerts where you got standing? He is a wall blocking anyone from pushing at you. Crowds he's practically growling and snarling to give you breathing room. If anyone tries picking on you, he's There and Terrifying.
- he has tied a balloon to you so as not to lose you. When you point out he's so fucking tall there's no way he could lose you, he just gets this dumb smile on his face.
Bane
- He's the one that tends to act more like he might break you. I mean, he's actually broken people before. Snapped batmans back like a fucking twig that one time. He's acutely aware how easily he could.
- Yet you might notice thats A-Okay especially if you have any skin/body sensitivities. Him being careful is Good because even him being "gentle" is strong. He still picks you up around the waist like you weigh nothing if he needs you to move. Gives a light chuckle if you say anything.
- Talk about the big spoon. When you sleep next to each other, his body almost curls AROUND yours because of his size in comparison to yours. It's kind of like having a heated, weighted blanket. Nice during the winter but you'll probably want to make a pillow barrier in summer or you'll die.
- If you're ever somewhere you can't see above a crowd and it's appropriate, he's picking you up to put you on his shoulders. You can see, he gets his head between your thighs. Win-win.
- if hes ever feeling cheeky, he'll pick you up bridal style and pretend to use you as a weight, curling you up towards his body and kissing your face.
- The one time someone tries picking on you because they think you're just tiny and easy pickings, he literally steps to them... breaks thier nose with barely any effort. Word gets around, and no one tries that shit again, that's for sure.
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pinkwright · 1 year
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everybody knows that i want ur love | shuri udaku.
ƸӜƷ
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pairing — panther!shuri x partygirl!y/n
trope — bestfriends 2 lovers
inspo — oh my love by fka twigs
warnings — fingering, spanking (reader receiving), slight choking, shuri's hands, possessive!shuri, panther!shuri, bratty reader, dom!shuri, handsy!shuri, shuri's a little mean, petty!reader, sub!reader, dacryphilia, dirty talk, possession kink (?) idfk, humiliation kink, slighttt voyeurism, needy!reader, jealous!shuri, i feel like this friendship group lowks gives poly vibes but truly reader just loves her friends n they love her okayyy.
request by @vai27 {can i please request a dom!shuri fic, smut a friend to lover with shuri and reader where they’re super attracted to each other and always flirting but never act on the sexual tension. until one day shuri is upset about something and she warns the reader to behave and the reader teases her by asking what “are you going to do about it, spank me?” and shuri actually does, lots of smut maybe even some chocking}
a/n — hope u enjoy ! <3 i didn't write this yall, i'm classy.
⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @shurismainbxtch @verachii @rxcently @shuriszn @lppriceisright @heartsforjojo
i could be with anyone, i’m fussy like pussy cat. you’re the only one i want. give love and then you take it back, won’t the kisses all be fun?
the smooth hazelnut drink glides out of your cup, and you let out a satisfied hum at the sweet taste, your lashes fluttering before you sweep your eyes over the bustling coffee shop. her powerful aura makes it hard to miss her, a light smile dancing on her lips as you make your way towards her, and she stands from the booth to greet you.
she reaches for your coffee and your bagged muffin setting the two on the table behind her before she’s settling her arms around your waist, sliding them across your skin to firmly place her hands onto your lower back, pressing you against her. she hums as her lips ghost over your cheekbones then down your neck as she breathes you in.
“late as always, s’thandwa.”
the words are murmured into your skin, her voice cheeky and low as she barely pulls away, her hands dragging up the skin of your waist until they’re sliding along your arms to grab your hands, which she lifts to her face, her dark eyes intently holding yours as she brushes her pillowy lips across your knuckles, and there’s a smirk threatening to break across her face when the action makes your mouth part.
“you smell divine.”
then she’s stepping back, pulling your joined hands from her face as she guides you into the booth where she was sitting, urging you to sit by the window, and then she sits right next to you, her arm placing itself over your shoulder, her hand fiddling with your soft locs. you blink, turning your head to look at her from under her arm, and her eyes are already on you causing a bashful smile to adorn your lips as you part your mouth to thank her.
“five minutes and thirty seconds, that’s a new low, y/n.”
your head snaps across the table, your gaze catching riri’s before sliding beside her to catch monet’s, their eyes are twinkling in mischief and you slightly pull away from shuri, ignoring her groan of protest as the heat crawls up your cheeks. you roll your eyes at the two girls before you’re biting out, “i was literally about to greet you, impatient ass niggas.”
your voice is light and teasing, knowing that your sight was tunnel-visioned on shuri from the moment you spotted her, the two girls let out noises of indignation and the smile grows on your face at being in the presence of the people you love. the conversation is flowing nicely, filled with laughter, and flying topics, shuri’s head drops to your neck as she moves her arm from around your shoulders to wrap around your waist, pulling you so close to her that you are almost in her lap.
the two girls are unphased, having witnessed the plausible sexual tension between both of their friends an infinite number of times, and you feel yourself melting into shuri’s firm grip. the warmth from her hands is seeping into your skin as she draws circles on your exposed waist, and a light laugh leaves your lips, fluttering along monet’s disbelieving cackle as you set down your empty coffee cup.
you lift your gaze to hers, smirking, before smoothing your hands over your skirt, seeing shuri reach for your unopened muffin from the corner of your eye, before monet speaks between her giggles, “he said that to you? he couldn’t have been serious.”
you laugh again before deadpanning at the girl, “the audacity of men is always that serious, mo.”
shuri snorts beside you, breaking off a piece of the warm baked good and popping it in her mouth, your eyes fixed on the clench of her jaw as she chews, feeling the heat lick at your skin as you stare.
“uyaphambana [he's audacious]. he should’ve known not to try anything with you.”
you raise your eyebrow at her, the heat between your legs burning at the dark and cocky tone coating the arguably possessive words, “what do you even mean by that?”
when shuri’s gaze slowly cuts to yours, she’s lifting a piece of the chocolate treat to your lips, your mouth dropping open on its own, and her fingers brush against your lips when she deposits the treat into your awaiting mouth. her eyes are intense, and her grip tightens on your waist as she watches you chew slowly.
there’s ringing in your ears and the only thing on your mind is shuri; how her dark eyes take in your face, how her hand is firmly kneading your skin, her long fingers digging into your softness as she mumbles the words to you.
“swallow for me, baby.”
you do as you’re told, her free hand coming to rest on your thigh before it slides up and down the skin there, lightly tapping your knee to urge you to unclench your legs, her long fingers falling between your legs and settling high there. when someone clears their throat aggressively, you’re flinching in humiliation, turning to see riri and monet looking visibly irritated.
“might as well fuck in front of us too.” riri mumbles under her breath, sending you into a coughing spree as your breath catches at her words.
shuri squeezes you, her hand lifting to rub your back as she chuckles, quickly retorting about how the two girls would ‘enjoy the show too much’. and monet quickly teases back, murmuring in agreement, slyly commenting about how ‘hot you and y/n look together already’, gasping theatrically about how she wouldn’t be able to handle it.
you splutter in utter embarrassment, your cheeks hot as all three of them laugh at you, they loved to see you get embarrassed because it was so easy to get you there. your eyes roll as a smile teases your lips, threatening to break your annoyed façade, before you clear your throat, “shut the fuck up, are we still on for tonight?”
they let out hums of agreement as you check your phone, 17:53, and you’re picking up your trash as you hug everyone goodbye letting them know that you’re going to get ready.
shuri follows you out but when she makes a move to walk you home, you protest heavily, your hand lifting to lightly push against her stomach, the tense of her abs makes you pause before you look up at her.
“stop, babe. in case you forgot, your apartment is that way and i am fully capable of getting back on my own.”
she hesitates before reluctantly agreeing, you laugh and spin to walk away, feeling her eyes follow your figure as you walk. when your door shuts behind you and you catch the giddy smile on your face in the mirror, one you must’ve showcased the entire walk back, it’s like a slap in the face.
you and shuri dance around each other like potential lovers but you know that would never happen, you wish you could chop it up to your own insecurities but truly it was because shuri never fails to draw a line between the two of you when things get too risky, too intimate.
honestly, it was tiring and a little hurtful, the push and pull between you, especially given how much you loved her – you wanted her so badly, absolutely ached to have her as your girlfriend and everyone seemed to know but her.
you sigh out loud, frustrated, you drop your tense shoulders and make your way to your wardrobe; you were going to dress absolutely wicked, get absolutely wasted, and possibly, but very unlikely, end up under someone tonight and completely forget about shuri udaku.
the sweat was shining on your body, your skin glittering under the lights as you danced with monet and the feeling is freeing, the music flowing through you like it was a part of you, guiding you in the crowd but you’re in your own world, unaware of the number of eyes on you.
the figure that steps behind you is ignored by you too, their body shifting to match the rhythm of your already moving waist, and unbeknownst to you, riri, sitting next to shuri at the bar, spares the wakandan queen a nervous glance. even she knew that your actions were intentional, aiming to provoke shuri, somehow. she didn't know whether to commend you for your bravery or cuss you (and shuri) out for the obtuse display of stupidity.
shuri feels like she’s in a trance as her gaze sweeps over your moving figure, the smile on your lips so fucking devastating that it makes her mind viciously buzz with static, her eyes darkening as they settle on the material on your hips steadily rising with your every movement.
and she can feel the panther inside her simmering under her skin, she was livid. she downs her whiskey before setting it roughly on the kitchen counter forcing herself to calm down, you weren’t hers.
but seeing you so familiar with some stranger when you had hardly even acknowledged her tonight made her feel wrong as if something was missing, it had her feeling on edge in a way she hasn’t in a very long time. she doesn’t even realise how long she’s been silently seething until she’s hearing you, hearing your pretty voice travel through her, gliding into her senses accompanied by your sweet scent.
“why are you just sitting here, ri? it’s not like we’re at a party or anything.”
you grab riri’s hands, moving to stand in front of the small girl who rolls her eyes at your sarcasm before snarkily responding, and it makes you snort. monet moves to sit in the seat next to riri, opposite to the side shuri sat on, dropping her head to rest in the ri's neck. you fiddle with the girl’s rings nervously, actively trying to ignore the certain presence near you.
but when you see movement out of the corner of your eye, you stiffen slightly, having been overtly aware of her attention on you since you had walked over to the pair, quickly forcing yourself to resist acknowledging her – despite her burning, and alluring gaze being fixed on you the entirety of the night.
riri and monet are staring at you amusingly, your actions were obvious to them, and it made you glare at them before clearing your throat, subtly stepping away from riri’s seated figure to try to slide yourself between her and monet, further away from shuri.
and that made the panther snap.
before you can blink, shuri is standing, her hand wrapping around your wrist as she tugs you against her frame, your breath stutters as she stands with your back pressed against her chest and slides her hands to wrap around your body.
her hand interlaces over yours, coming to rest over your stomach while the other is placing itself on the dip of your hip, her thumb pressing into the flesh of your upper ass, and she’s leaning her head down to your ear, her breath making you shiver.
“walk.”
the command is accompanied by a firm press of her hand, one that makes your thighs clench tightly, and one that wasn’t needed because your body is moving before she can even exhale. the crowd gently parts for the both of you, everyone seems to sense the tension rolling off the dangerously powerful woman behind you, sparing a nosy glance before going back to enjoying their night out.
once shuri’s got you in a seemingly abandoned hallway in the furthest corner of the huge house the party was being hosted in, she’s swiftly pressing you into the wall, her hands on either side of your head as she leans down to glare into your eyes, your figure shrinking at the intensity in them.
“you’re pissing me off, baby.”
her voice is even, and low, so low, it makes you wonder what she’d sound like getting lost in devouring you, and god, she sounded so hot, the heat in your stomach flickering wildly. the music sounded far away, and it makes you realise just how far off from the centre of the party you both were, and that makes you clench in anticipation.
your mouth parts at her words, your eyes narrowing in disbelief, you were pissing her off? you can feel a different heat lick at your throat, one of impulse, of defiance. and shuri sees it coming before it happens, your chin raising ever so slightly as your eyebrow lifts in a challenge, but she’s too shocked to intercept you, “i do what i want, panther.”
the words were spat from your mouth carrying a heavy sneer and the use of her title provokes shuri. a heavy heat spiking under her skin and she can feel herself vibrating with the need to claim you, fuck you into knowing exactly what she was to you, what you were to her, to them.
she wraps her hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to provoke a sharp gasp out of you, tilting your jaw as she pulls your face so close to her own that you can feel her heavy breaths on your lips, feel the tremble in her body as she practices self-control, “you better fucking behave, y/n.”
her tone rings warning bells in your head but you want her to break the line, to unapologetically snap herself into ravaging you, so your voice is teasing when you speak, “or else what? what are you going to do if i don’t? spank me?”
suddenly, you’re facing the wall, shuri’s manhandling you like she owned you, her chest roughly pressing against your back before her hand is rearing back and slapping the skin of your ass, and the loud moan you let out is of shock, your pussy clenching at the impact. there's silence as she pauses, your breathing heavy and you're so wet.
her hand is simply rubbing over the muscle, but when you slightly arch, presenting yourself to her. she’s letting out a strained grunt, before repeating her previous actions, once then twice, and on the third, you let out a desperate whimper trying to push back into her hits, her hands on you feeling like the redemption you didn't know you needed, but she’s pinning you to the wall with her other hand.
“be fucking good.”
her voice is rough, and gravelly as she continues spanking you, her big hands soothing the skin after every hit despite her harsh tone. you’re a whimpering, desperate mess and it makes shuri ache, you were everything she needed. the thought makes her last slap heavier, itching to hear a break within your pretty sounds and she does – the heavy gasp you let out breaking sinfully around its pitch, trailing off into a wet whimper, and it’s music to her ears.
her hand circles your stinging cheek, massaging the soft muscle as she drops her nose to your neck, your scent invading her senses as she runs it along your neck, smirking slightly at the goosebumps she leaves in her trail. shuri slides her hand down to the hem of your skirt, pausing for a breath or two, to feel you squirm before slipping her fingers between your legs, groaning when she feels the wetness along your inner thighs.
you feel her other hand press on your lower back, lightly pressing you into an arch before she moves it to rest along the hem of your skirt, your cheek pressing into the coolness of the wall as you feel her hand leave your thighs. your heart beats rapidly in your chest and you can feel the pulsing beats travelling through the heavy pump of your veins before settling, painfully in the heat between your legs.
and then she’s sliding your skirt up your thighs achingly slow, and you clench your thighs tightly when you remember just where you two were, a whimper escaping your lips as you squirm, your knees rubbing together as you realise just how exposed you were, anyone could walk passed and just see you.
“you embarrassed, baby?” her words are taunting and they make your eyes shut tightly, your back arching more into her before you whimper, her words print themselves into your psyche, lull you into a blanket of safety that only she could wrap you in, “you don’t want them to hear you give yourself to me? see you dripping onto the floor like my bratty little slut?”
“please, please, shuri, i’ll be so good, please just touch me.”
your words are broken, coming out in incoherent, needy jumbles that make shuri hum as she fixes your skirt on your hips, the material bunching around your waist and it makes you so vulnerable, so available to prying eyes, and the thought makes you drip. everyone would know, know who you belonged to if they were to set their eyes on the scene and the notion makes your hips buck in her grip, hearing the amused chuckle she breathes into the tense air.
"such a desperate, needy girl hm."
when shuri leans against you once again, her head is dropping to your neck before her hand slides down your ass to brush against your soaked panties, you jolt as she groans, rubbing her fingers in slow circles over your underwear, and your clit is pulsing under her attention. your head nods frantically as the sounds slip out of your lips, her hands finally touching you feeling like too much but too little at the same time, she was overwhelming you and she knew it.
“tell me you’re mine, princess.”
the words make you arch your back further, craving more from her, “i’m yours, i’m yours, only yours, shuri.” your voice is pleading, your hips circle to match her movements and shuri can smell the desperation off you and the sadistic side of her thrives in it, “mhmm, that’s right, s’thandwa.”
her hand momentarily leaves you to harshly slide your panties down your legs, and even when your instincts tell you to hide, you know you can’t, the material is sitting around your ankles, kissing your heels. shuri brings the hand that’s around your waist up to your jaw, shifting your gaze to connect with hers to watch your mouth drop open as she presses tight circles around your clenching entrance.
"keep those pretty eyes on me when i'm touching you, angel."
her eyes study the way your eyebrows scrunch, the way your chest heaves as she slips a finger into your warm walls, her own pussy clenching at how divine you felt. the breaths you’re heaving out are almost painful against your ribs, the drag of shuri’s fingers in you making the ball in your stomach expand painfully like she’s dragging you to your release.
“you gonna come for me, baby?” your head is nodding frantically, your mouth open as you gasp repeatedly, feeling so, so close, “you think you deserve it? you were so mean to me earlier, angel.” she’s cooing. her voice is taunting, tainted with a sweet, wicked venom as her fingers start to slow to a stop and you could sob with how desperate you were. the protests that fall from your lips are quickly silenced with the sharp look shuri sends you, the sheer dominance rolling off of her making your pussy clench tightly around her fingers, aching to keep her in there.
shuri grunts when she feels the welcoming clenches of your walls around her fingers, and she’s unable to resist the urge to give you one last harsh thrust that has you moaning out before withdrawing from you completely, turning your figure to face her. a smirk slides over her lips when she sees how open you are to her, to her touch and it quells the possessive fire inside her; you were hers.
slowly, she brings her hands to wrap around the ends of your long locs, lightly pulling them to make you look up at her before her eyes flicker between both of yours, bast, she was in love with you. you looked ruined, ruined by and for her, your lashes clinging together, your chest heaving and she leans down to breathe you in, her teeth sinking into the pillow of your lips, wishing to see them swell and bruise under the attention.
and her hand is back in your aching cunt, your wetness dripping down her arm makes her smirk at you and your hips are rocking against her fingers, your eyes never leaving hers as you moan unabashedly into her mouth, “my dirty little angel. let them hear you when you come for your love, yeah?” and you shake violently at how she refers to herself, your legs attempting to close around her arm, and she laughs at you.
your nails are digging into her forearms to ground yourself, your head so cloudy with the pleasure she was giving you that you don’t realise just how much your hips were needily thrusting against her hand, shuri watches you lose yourself in her and she can hear the predator purr in response, leaning down to lay several pecks on your unresponsive pretty lips.
“that’s it, baby. rock on me until you’re all pretty and hazy for me, giving me all that come because that’s all you’re good for, my love.”
her coos are low and whispered into you, lulling you like a siren call as her words call your release forward, your legs trying to shut around her strong arm as you weep, but she simply tuts, continuing her harsh thrusts in your sloppy heat, speaking praises into your open mouth, her gaze hungrily trailing over the hot tears that streamed down your cheeks, your eyes clenched as your vision blanked.
shuri drops her head to your neck, the warm kisses trailing along your skin bringing you back to her, your eyes blinking up at her as she pulls away to kiss on your face, coaxing a giggle out of you while she slides your skirt back down to cover you. her body is relaxed as she drops down to slip your underwear from your legs, sliding them into her pocket as she gently, lovingly kisses your knee.
you whine pathetically as you look down at her, “come kiss me.”
shuri's eyes roll as she stands to your height, her eyes narrowing at you and the pout adorning your puffy lips as a smile pulls at her own, “still so fucking bratty.”
she slides her hand to cradle the back of your head pulling you gently towards her, pausing as your breath hitches before her soft lips slide over yours. her emotions are spilling into the kiss and so are yours, you can taste the unsaid words, the restraint, the need, you can feel her love as she wordlessly presses it into you, and it makes overwhelmed tears spring from your shut eyes.
your hand blindly grasps for hers before weaving your fingers together, and shuri finds herself drawing a line to wrap around the both of you instead of redrawing the one keeping you from her.
oh, my love. it’s been a long road. but you never, never said if you’re letting me go, for sure. if you won’t let me go, then you gotta try, hold me close.
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c-e-d-dreamer · 8 hours
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You're the Kind of Reckless that Should Send Me Running
A/N: you know, sometimes, self-care is... (checks notes) making a sex bargain with a fae to get out of a marriage contract. It just be like that! But happy Day Three of @nestaarcheronweek lovelies! Hope everyone enjoys some smutty Nessian. As a warning, this is toe-ing the line with dubious consent since it is a fae bargain, so please read with care!
Read on AO3
A bottle of your finest alcohol and your most prized possession.
That's what the woman in the market had told Nesta to bring in offering. Whispered words shared between the brick building of the butcher and the wooden stalls bedecked in green leaves and pastel colored petals, the first sign of spring. The woman's own stall had been tucked closer to the alleyway between buildings, half cast in shadow. What little light did break through bounced off the gemstones of amulets, carved into the grooves of runes in animal bone.
Only desperate people spoke with the woman who always kept the hood of her cloak up to shroud her face.
And desperate Nesta was.
She listened to everything the woman said, carefully tucked away the instructions, the tips the woman offered for the best results. And when the woman had finished speaking, Nesta placed a single silver piece into her palm and slipped back into the crowds of the bustling market without looking back. She kept her head down, tried her best to look inconspicuous lest word get back where she didn’t want it to.
But Nesta caught Clare’s eye across the market square, her friend offering the barest hint of a nod. It was Clare that told Nesta about this woman, about the information she offered, about the outcomes that information promised. According to Clare, it was how Morrigan had done it just last week.
So, that day in the market, Nesta seeked out the woman, and now, here she walks.
She steps over roots and brambles, her soft steps doing nothing to quiet the crunch beneath her feet. With each step, she winces at the way the sound echoes in the wood around her. She glances around, between the barks of the trees that stretch out and above her, but there’s no sign of anyone else but her. It doesn’t stop the hairs on the back of her neck from standing on edge.
A twig snaps somewhere behind her, and Nesta freezes, nearly dropping the bottle of whiskey she’d stolen from her father’s reserves. She clutches it a little tighter to her chest, afraid to even breathe while she waits for another sound, waits for someone to appear. But the only sound that answers Nesta is the rustle of the wind through the branches and leaves, the distant sound of an owl hooting.
Breathing out slowly, Nesta continues trekking forward. She dares to look back over her shoulder, but there’s nothing but more trees and the streaks of silver from the moon breaking through the canopy above. She shakes her head, reminding herself of exactly why she’s here, why she’s doing this.
She just has to find the clearing. That’s what the woman in the market said, that deep into the woods to the north of the village, the trees would part into a clearing. A ring where the trees dare not grow, where the roots stretch to form an altar. Where a fae waits for humans brave enough to make a bargain.
If only she could find it.
Nesta doesn’t know how far she’s walked, but she feels as though she’s been walking half the night. She can’t help but wonder if it was all a lie, a trick. If there is no clearing and no fae who can help her. It would be just her luck.
With a huff, she decides to call it, decides she’ll make the painstaking trek back to her family’s manor house. She spins on her heel only to find herself standing in the center of a clearing that wasn’t there previously.
Fae magic.
“And what do we have here?”
The voice is deep, rough, practically a low rumble where it skates across Nesta’s skin. She swallows hard, raising her chin, before she turns to face that voice. The man is leaning casually against the trunk of one of the trees lining the clearing, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted as he watches her.
A male, really. A fae male unmistakably from his appearance.
He’s large, bigger than even the butcher back in the village, standing a header taller than Nesta with wide shoulders and a wide chest. Wings stretch behind his back and loom over his shoulders like haunting shadows. Dark curls tumble down to his shoulders, framing a pair of eyes that look almost cat-like, that seem to glint green and gold even beneath the silver of the moonlight. The sleeves of his tunic are pushed up to his elbows, showing off swirls of ink along his skin that Nesta swears shift as though a mimic of the magic she’s sure runs through the fae’s veins.
There’s a rough sort of beauty to his face, to the cut of his cheeks and his jaw. As though they’re carved by the very wind she’s sure he must ride with those large wings of his. His nose doesn’t sit quite straight, a slash slicing through his right eyebrow, but it only seems to add to his features. He’s handsome in a way that Nesta knows she’ll never find in her village, in a way that can only be fae. In a way that Nesta has to swallow hard before finding her voice again.
“Are you the fae that helps women escape their marriage contracts?” Nesta asks, refusing to allow her voice to waver, for her nerves to show.
The fae pushes off the tree, stalking closer to her. “So what if I am?”
Nesta thrusts her arms forward before the fae can get too close. “I brought these in offering.”
The fae tilts his head again, his gaze raking over Nesta from head to toe. Those cat-like eyes rover over her frame slowly, goosebumps erupting across Nesta’s skin as if it’s fingers trailing a blazing path. When his attention returns to her face, there’s something different in his expression. A fire burning amongst the greens and golds of his hazel eyes, the left side of his lips tilting up in a smirk. He reaches forward, the large span of his hands on full display as his fingers curl around the neck of the whiskey bottle.
“You have good taste,” the fae comments, examining the whiskey.
“I stole it from my father.”
“And the dress? Did you steal that from him too?”
Nesta snorts at the implication. “No. It was a gift from my mother, right before she passed.”
The fae hums, but he doesn’t say anything more. He begins to circle her, like a predator sizing up its prey, but Nesta refuses to be cowed. She stands perfectly still, straightening her spine against his scrutiny, raising her chin that little bit higher in defiance.
“Is it sufficient? To your liking?”
“Why the dress? Why not your hair?” the fae asks, twirling a strand of Nesta’s hair around his finger. He tugs it toward his face, inhaling deeply. “It’s oh so beautiful. Like burnished gold. Even beneath the moonlight.”
“If that is what it will take, then you can have it.”
The fae chuckles, the sound low and seeming to resonate from deep within his chest. “You must really dislike your betrothed.”
“You would too if you met him,” Nesta grumbles, not even bothering to swallow down her eye roll.
Tomas Mandray.
That was who her father saw fit to marry her off to. Nesta’s hated her father ever since he selfishly sat idly by when her mother fell ill, deciding that the life saving medicine she would need was not worth the steep cost. His recklessness since her death has only gotten worse, shady business deals and gambling habits digging the Archerons into a deeper hole.
Despite the confidence her father exudes around the other high society members of their village, Nesta knows it’s nothing more than a facade. She knows their family is one wrong deal away from losing everything. Knows there’s a desperation thrumming just beneath her father’s skin. It’s what led to him agreeing to the first man who came forward for her hand, without a thought for the type of man he is.
“Is that so?” the fae asks, finishing his circle and stopping in front of her again.
“It’s the worst kept secret in the village,” Nesta explains, unsure what compels her to tell this fae the truth. Perhaps there’s something in his face, in his presence, that has her wanting to trust him. “Everyone knows that Lord Mandray raises his hand to his wife, that his sons just stand by while it happens.”
“You think he’d lay a hand on you?”
“Undoubtedly.”
Real anger flashes across the fae’s face, hazel eyes practically blazing and his lips curling back in a snarl. His fists clench at his sides, muscles in his arms flexing with the motion. The rage isn’t directed at her, but that doesn’t stop Nesta’s heart from thundering between her ribs. She knows the stories of the fae, knows of their strength. This male could tear her apart with ease if he wanted to.
It’s a ferity and display of power that should terrify her, that should have her spinning on her heel and running straight back to the village, but instead she continues to meet this fae’s gaze.
The fae’s expression softens, almost curious, as his gaze sweeps over her anew. It’s unnerving, as though he can see beneath her skin and down to her very bone. As though she’s splayed open for his examination all the way to her soul. Whatever he sees, whatever he finds, it has him stepping closer still. Close enough that Nesta has to tilt her head back to hold eye contact. Close enough she can feel the heat that seems to radiate off him. Close enough that every inhale has her chest a hair's breadth away from his.
“You never told me your name,” the fae says, warm breath skating across Nesta’s cheeks.
“I don’t know yours,” Nesta fires back, raising her chin even higher in challenge.
That cocksure smirk tugs its way across the fae’s face again. “It’s Cassian.”
“Nesta. Nesta Archeron.”
“Nesta,” Cassian repeats, as though tasting her name, testing the weight of it on his tongue. A shiver threatens to skitter up Nesta’s spine, but she’s quick to swallow it down. “Should we make a bargain, Nesta?”
“You’ll do it, then? You’ll end my marriage contract?”
“Happily.”
“For my hair?”
“I’ll accept the dress, but that’s just an offering, sweetheart,” Cassian explains, holding up the dress and whiskey bottle in emphasis before tossing both away. “We still need to make a proper bargain.”
“Alright…” Nesta begins slowly, wading through her memory, through the lessons from her mother. She knows wording is important, knows that she needs to be careful about the phrasing of this bargain. “You ensure that my marriage contract to Tomas Mandray is void, that I’ll never marry Tomas Mandray, that I’ll never marry anyone in the Mandray household nor anyone that I do not choose for myself. And in exchange…”
“And in exchange, you’ll become my wife.”
“What.”
Cassian grins fully down at her, one of his hands reaching up between them to curl that strand of her hair around his fingers again. “You can’t marry anyone else if you’re already married to me.”
Nesta blinks a few times, trying to wrap her mind around it all, but Cassian's hand shifts, the backs of his fingers dragging down her temple, her cheek. The touch is distracting. She supposes it makes sense. How can she marry someone else if she is already wed. Clare never specified exactly what Morrigan had to do to break her own marriage contract to the eldest Vanserra. Perhaps, this is how it works.
But alarm bells still ring in the back of Nesta’s mind, whispering of caution. It’s too vague, gray area so expansive that it feels too risky to simply agree.
“And what does that entail? Being your wife?”
Cassian chuckles again, Nesta practically able to feel it where their chests are nearly pressed together. “You were about to be wed, and you don’t know about wifely duties?”
Nesta’s temper flares red hot, and she glares up at him. “I know what’s expected of a wife.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“What does being a wife mean for a fae? What does a fae expect of me?”
“You can do whatever you want as my wife, Nes,” Cassian offers, palm fully cradling her jaw.
“Don’t call me that. And stop that,” Nesta snaps, knocking his hand away. “You’re trying to trick me.”
“Trick you? I’m hurt, sweetheart. I thought you wanted this bargain?”
“I do.”
Panic swells in Nesta’s chest, churning her stomach. What if he changes his mind? Goes back on the bargain? Anything she wants as his wife. It’s not specific, definitely not even close to what Nesta was taught when it comes to fae bargains, but it only hurts him really. Anything she wants. And what she wants is to live the rest of her life far away from the Mandrays and any of the other aggravating villagers who either look down their noses or leer at her.
“Alright,” Nesta finally breathes, sending a silent prayer to the Mother that she doesn’t live to regret this.
“Alright?” Cassian repeats back, bringing both his hands to Nesta’s jaw this time, tilting her head up. “So it’s a bargain then?”
Nesta swallows hard, her heart skipping a beat when Cassian’s thumb drags across her bottom lip. “It’s a bargain.”
Cassian’s mouth crashes against hers at the same moment a burning sensation cascades along her spine and between her shoulder blades. It has Nesta gasping against Cassian’s lips, but he merely uses the reaction to deepen the kiss, to press his tongue into her mouth. His arm drops to curl around her waist, hauling her closer still until she’s pressed flush against his body. She can feel every line of hard muscle beneath his shirt, feel the strength in his grip around her.
He tears his mouth away, but he doesn’t go far, latching his lips against her neck. His mouth is hot against her skin, her entire body roaring to life and reacting to his touch. She tilts her head, a quiet groan tumbling past her lips, when Cassian’s teeth find her pulse point, tongue soothing over the brief sting.
When Cassian pulls away, Nesta’s whole body sways forward, practically chasing his mouth and his kiss. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, finding Cassian’s own gaze already firmly on her face. There’s a fire in his hazel eyes, lips kiss bitten and pink. His grip on her hip holds her steady, fingers of his other hand burying themselves in the strands of her hair.
“What do you say, wife?” Cassian asks, voice low and deep. He drags his nose along her jaw until he can press his lips to her ear. “Should we consummate our bargain?”
Just his voice has heat pooling low in Nesta’s gut. Has her thighs clenching and her toes beginning to curl in her shoes. And when he presses a kiss to that spot behind her ear, a shudder ricochets down her spine. She clutches at Cassian’s shirt to hold herself steady, daring to arc against him.
“Yes.”
Nesta’s world tilts, and then her back is cushioned by grass and moss. She barely has time to register the change before Cassian’s lips are back on hers. He settles atop her, hips cradled within the bracket of her thighs. Nesta finally buries her fingers in the dark curls of his hair, threading the strands between her fingers and tugging hard until Cassian is groaning into her mouth, his hips pressing down against her. She can feel exactly what she’s doing to him, the hardline of his arousal digging into her hip.
She slides one of her hands down his chest, feeling the heat of him even through the fabric between them, feeling his heartbeat just beneath the surface. She traces down and down, but before her fingertips can even brush the waistband of Cassian’s pants, her hand is yanked away. Cassian’s fae instincts are too quick, grip curling around Nesta’s wrists and pinning her hand above her head and into the dirt.
“Don’t you know, sweetheart, that a good husband always ensures his wife is taken care of first?”
Cassian pulls back enough that he’s able to settle comfortably on his haunches. Nesta feels overly exposed, splayed out in the grass beneath him. His gaze roves over her form with a hunger that has her heart rate spiking, has heat flooding through her veins until it settles in her core. Her chest heaves with each deep inhale as painstakingly slow, Cassian unties the laces down the front of her dress.
Her nerve endings are already on high alert, and the slow drag of fabric over her breasts as her dress is pulled open has a moan bubbling up and out of her throat. Her nipples are already pebbled when the cool air hits them, and the heat of Cassian’s hand as he palms them is a welcome reprieve.
Cassian leans back down, his mouth closing over one of her breasts. His tongue laves over her nipple, teeth nipping and tugging at the bud. He pulls back with a quiet pop, switching to her other breath, and Nesta bucks up against him, desperate for friction. Desperate for more.
“Cass… Cassian,” Nesta begs quietly, moaning when he drags the flat of his tongue over her breast again.
Nesta doesn’t even hear Cassian’s laugh this time, merely feels the vibrations against her skin, but he gets the message. He kisses a blazing path down her sternum, down her stomach. His hands find the hem of her skirts, pushing them up her thighs and her hips until her whole dress is nothing more than a bunch of fabric around her waist.
He keeps sliding down until he’s settled on his stomach in the grass, wings spread wide and tall above them both. For a moment, Nesta is transfixed on the way the moonlight ripples through the membrane, the patterns of the veins and scars, but her focus is brought solely back to the fae between her legs when Cassian’s fingers hook in the waistband of her undergarments, sliding them slowly down her legs.
Her breath hitches in her throat as he settles her thighs over his shoulders, at the feral look on his face. Those cat-like eyes of his are almost completely swallowed by his blown out pupils, and his grin shows off the sharp tips of his canines. With his dark hair falling along his temples and cheeks, he truly looks like a wild man, like a beast ready to pounce and feast on its prey. Nesta tosses her head back with a whimper as he lowers his face down, already anticipating his warm breath across her cunt, his tongue, but it never comes. Instead, Cassian’s lips find home along her inner thigh, a teasing display of what’s to come.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Cassian’s low voice rasps, lips never straying from her skin. “I want to see the look on your face when you fall apart on my tongue.”
Nesta tips her chin back down, meeting Cassian’s gaze fully again. His teeth sink into her inner thigh, sucking a bruise onto the skin. Whether it’s a reward or a punishment for her behavior, Nesta isn’t sure. A glint sparks through his hazel eyes, and it’s Nesta’s only warning before he buries himself completely between her thighs.
The first slide of his tongue over her cunt has Nesta’s thighs squeezing out of instinct, but Cassian’s fingers curl against the flesh, holding her open and exactly how he wants her. The flat of his tongue drags over her until he reaches her clit, tracing tantalizing circles over the bud that have Nesta bucking against his hold. It’s clearly the reaction he was hoping for, and the vibrations of his answering groan only add to the sensations threatening to send Nesta spiraling, send her unraveling, almost embarrassingly quickly.
And all the while, Cassian keeps his eyes on her face, pinning her in place, while he works his magic. Whether it’s his fae magic or just the magic of this male, Nesta doesn’t know. Nor does she particularly care as long as he doesnt stop. Her hands scrabble desperately for something to grasp onto, dirt digging under her nails and moans tumbling past her lips unbidden as Cassian presses his tongue into her. It curls and flicks at her walls like he’s determined to collect every last drop of her arousal, like a male parched and starved.
When Cassian finally pulls back, the sight is obscene. His hair is disheveled, lips and chin glistening beneath the light of the moon. He doesn’t even bother wiping his mouth, merely licking his lips with another low groan.
“I knew you’d make the prettiest sounds,” Cassian tells her, suddenly sinking two fingers into her cunt. “Now, come on, wife. Scream my name for the whole wood to hear.”
The pace Cassian sets is punishing, his fingers fucking into her hard and deep, thick in a way her own fingers have never been. Nesta feels like she’s on fire, her entire focus pinpointed on the fingers driving into her, the stretch of them, the way they drag along the walls of her cunt. She rocks her hips up against his hand, chasing the flames, the friction, the familiar feeling coiling tighter and tighter.
“Gods, look at you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful sight. Flushed such a pretty pink and taking my fingers so well.”
Nesta keens at the words, her hand snapping down to curl around Cassian’s wrist. Not to stop him, but to keep him there. He squeezes in a third finger beside the first two, curling them until Nesta is practically arching up off the ground. Her throat already feels hoarse from her moans, from the shouts of Cassian’s name.
“That’s my good girl. I can feel the way you’re squeezing my fingers. I can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock.”
“Cass. Cassian. Please. Gods, please.”
Cassian groans, dropping his face to her neck, teeth dragging along the skin, across her collarbones, his fingers never stopping. “Fuck. You beg so pretty too.”
Cassian’s thumb finds her clit, working it in tandem with the three fingers still thrusting into her. Nesta’s toes curl, her thighs practically shaking. She can feel herself standing on that edge, on that precipice. Cassian shifts his face down, lips closing around her breast again, and Nesta goes tumbling head first. She clenches down hard around Cassian’s fingers, half aware of the shout torn from her throat as her release barrels through her.
Cassian continues to move his fingers, dragging out her orgasm. But soon, the aftershocks subside, the stimulation teetering toward painful. Her whole body shudders with a whimper, but Cassian slips his fingers free. He makes a big show of pushing them between his lips, groaning around the taste of her. It has Nesta reaching for his wrist again, this time, bringing his hand to her own mouth. She sucks on his fingers, curling her tongue between the digits.
“Mother, save me,” Cassian mutters, watching her with hooded eyes.
He pulls his fingers free, but he’s quick to replace them with his own mouth, kissing Nesta deeply. Nesta moans into the kiss, burying her hands back in Cassian’s hair and tugging hard. His tongue curls around her own, his hips aligning and rocking down against hers. It’s a reminder of what’s still hers for the taking, the brush of fabric against her sending sparks ricocheting anew.
She reaches for the hem of his shirt, pushing the fabric up and up, determined to take it off. But his wings. Her fingers falter as she realizes she’s not sure how to get it off around the wings. She pulls back from the kiss to try and get a better look, but Cassian is having none of that, drawing her right back in. She huffs against his lips, tugging at his shirt in emphasis, and when Cassian is the one to finally pull back again, his hazel eyes are alight with amusement.
He reaches behind his back, the snap of buttons almost as loud as their heaving breaths in the quiet wood. Fisting the fabric, Cassian tugs the shirt away with ease, leaving Nesta with the perfect view of the wide expanse of golden skin, of the muscles carved into it, of the dark hair dusted across his chest and down his stomach like an alluring path leading down and down.
Nesta traces the lines of tattoos painted across his skin with the tip of her fingers, traces them all the way down his chest and further still, daring to dig her nails in against his stomach. Cassian hisses at the sting, but the look in his eyes tells her that he really likes it. It makes her feel bolder, braver. She dares to reach down, palming the hard line still trapped in his pants.
With a groan, Cassian drops his head against her collarbones. She continues her ministrations, curling her fingers as best she can and moving her hand up and down. Even through the fabric of his pants, Nesta can feel the way he twitches, can feel the weight of him. The size. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised, what with Cassian being fae and not an ordinary man, but it still has heat sparking along her spine, has her mouth running dry just as surely as her thighs clench together.
She pushes at the waistband of his pants until they slide off his hips, down his thighs. Cassian finishes the job, kicking off the fabric. His cock bobs free between his strong thighs, the head already glistening with his own arousal. Nesta goes to wrap her hand around it, but her fingertips barely graze before Cassian is pinning her wrists again. He’s able to hold both her wrists in the grip of just one of his hands, using his free hand to find home beneath her chin and raise her face to his.
For a moment, Cassian merely stares at her, eyes roving over her face as though he’s trying to memorize it. Warmth flares through his hazel eyes, and Nesta swears she can feel an answering spark between her ribs, can feel it grow and tether like a golden thread there. He leans down and connects their lips, the kiss surprisingly soft. Nesta tries to deepen it, tries to free her hands so she can pull him close again, but Cassian keeps the kiss a gentle slide of lips.
“Cassian,” Nesta huffs frustratedly, hooking her legs around his waist and digging her heels into the small of his back, trying to encourage him where she wants.
“So needy, my wife,” Cassian teases, gripping his cock and dragging the head along her cunt, through the wetness that’s pooled there. “Do you want my cock, Nes? Want me to fill you up and fuck you good?”
“Isn’t that what a good husband does?”
Cassian’s whole body shudders with a groan, his wings flaring wide. “Perhaps a good wife should beg for it.”
“Please,” Nesta whispers, capturing Cassian’s bottom lip between her teeth and bucking her hips up against him. “Please fuck me.”
“Good girl.”
Cassian grasps at her hips, tugging her close and tilting them up. He presses his own hips forward until the tip slides inside her, thrusting shallowly. Just the first few inches stretches Nesta in a way she’s never felt before, in a way she fears she could become addicted to. He pulls his hips back just to sink back in further, the drag along Nesta’s walls leaving her moaning.
When their hips are finally pressed flushed together, Cassian still, nosing along her neck and her jaw. Nesta feels so incredibly full, her every nerve ending on fire in the most delicious way. She clenches down around him, her cunt seeming to draw him that much deeper, and Cassian’s groan echoes her own.
“Gods, you’re so tight,” Cassian murmurs into her neck, lips dragging against her skin. “But you take me so well.”
“Cassian, please,” Nesta begs again, trying to shift her hips against his hold.
Whether the begging does the trick or Cassian merely takes pity on her, Nesta doesn’t care. All she can focus on is the way Cassian pulls his hips back only to snap them back forward. Again and again he drives his hips forward, each hard thrust sending lightning licking through Nesta’s veins. With her hands now free, she curls them around Cassian’s back, practically clawing at his skin as she rocks her hips up to meet him thrust for thrust, as she chases the unparalleled feeling of him filling her over and over.
She dares to trace her fingers toward his shoulder blades. Dares to trace the spindly bone of a wing. Cassian lets out a near animalistic growl, hips digging against her own as his movements stutter.
“If you keep that up, this will be over much too soon,” Cassian warns through clenched teeth. He sits back on his haunches, splaying Nesta’s legs across his thighs.
“Sensitive?” Nesta asks. “What does it feel like?”
Cassian’s thumb presses down on Nesta’s clit, Nesta keening at the sensation and pressure. “Like that.”
Cassian works his hips back up to a brutal pace, moving his thumb in tandem with every hard thrust. It doesn’t take long before Nesta finds herself on the edge of that precipice again, before she goes tumbling over with little to no warning. Her back arches up off the ground, cunt clenching hard around Cassian’s cock. Cassian continues to snap his hips, working her through her orgasm, until he shudders and stills above her, warmth flooding Nesta’s core as surely as the fire blazing through her veins.
Cassian shifts back, pulling his softening cock free and drawing a quiet whimper from Nesta’s lips. She still feels like she’s burning, still feels desperate to dive back into the flames and the feeling sparked by this fae male. And though there’s still the lingering fullness from Cassian’s own release, her cunt still spasms with the aftershocks of her orgasm, still clenches around nothing.
She pushes herself up into a seated position, moving before Cassian can get too far. She all but clambers into his lap, steadying herself on his shoulders until she can settle comfortably. Cassian’s hands find her waist, an almost awestruck expression on his face as he peers up at her. But there’s embers in that hazel gaze too, still flickering as one of those hands glides up her spine, as his fingers curl into the long strands of Nesta’s hair that have fallen free from her updo.
“You know,” Nesta begins, reaching down until she can fist his cock, stroking it teasingly. “There’s this rumor. That fae males can recover more quickly than a man.”
“Is that so?” Cassian teases, but Nesta can already feel the way he’s started to harden again from her ministrations.
Nesta tightens her grip, quickens her pace, until Cassian is groaning and bucking his hips up against her, until his cock is standing at full attention again. She shifts forward on her knees, lining Cassian’s cock up with her cunt and sinking down on it. She moans at the fullness taking over her again, the rightness of being pressed together like this. She feels key-up, the overstimulation too much and yet everything that she needs.
She starts to rock her hips, gasping at the drag and friction, chasing the heat already climbing dangerously high. With one hand still buried in her hair, Cassian draws her mouth back to his, groaning against her lips as he kisses her. He plants his feet on the ground, snapping his hips up to meet hers.
“Gods, you’re fucking gorgeous,” Cassian murmurs against her, hands sliding down to palm at her ass and guide her movements. “Riding my cock like a good fucking girl.”
Nesta shudders at his words, clenching down hard. She picks up the pace of her hips, chasing another release. She starts to feel the burn in her thighs, can feel the stickiness of their own arousal, of both their releases dripping and smeared across the skin there. She’s half aware of her hoarse moans ringing in her ears, of the wet sounds of sex and slapping skin echoing in the woods around them. But all that matters is the slide of Cassian’s cock, the pressure building between her thighs.
She reaches a hand down, fingers slipping through the wetness there and against her clit, but Cassian is too quick. His own fingers curl around her wrist and pull her hand away. Nesta whines high in the back of her throat, tugging against his grip, but it’s no use.
“I don’t appreciate anyone touching what’s mine,” Cassian warns, squeezing her wrist that little bit tighter.
“And am I yours?” Nesta asks, sinking down fully and swiveling her hips to get the friction she was looking for.
“Always. And I’m yours.”
“Good.”
With her free hand not captured in Cassian’s hold, Nesta reaches over his shoulder. She slides her fingertips across his leathery wings, trying to mimic the way her hips move with the shapes she traces. She dares to scrape her nails against his wings, remembering how he’d responded before. With a roar, Cassian all but crushes her to him, his cock twitching deep within her. It’s enough to send Nesta crashing through an orgasm right there with him, spots dancing in her vision as she shakes with the force of it.
Nesta’s entire body feels wrung out and sated, embers banked but still keeping her deliciously warm. It takes her a moment too long to realize she’s slumped forward against Cassian, their chests pressed together and her head dropped to his shoulder. She knows that she needs to move. She knows that, now that their bargain is complete, she needs to return to the village. But trying to will her muscles to work feels like an impossible feat.
She decides to give it under her still heaving breaths even out, until her still thundering heart quiets to a soft beat. Cassian’s touch is surprisingly gentle where his fingertips trace shapes and lines up and down her spine, but soon his hands are gripping her properly. He shifts until they’re both sprawled across the soft, mossy floor of the wood, wings curling almost protectively around her. Warmth seeps into Nesta’s skin every place they’re pressed together, relaxing her all the way down to the bone.
There’s a safety wrapped up in his embrace, and Nesta allows her eyes to flutter shut, allows it to lull her under. She thinks back to Cassian’s words, his declaration that she’s his and he’s hers. And for a moment, just this moment longer, she almost allows herself to believe it.
~ * * * ~
Nesta quietly thanks the seller, carefully placing the folded fabric in the basket hanging from the crook of her arm. She slides her fingers against the pretty pink of it, the color reminding her of Elain. She’s sure that her younger sister will create something beautiful with it.
As she steps out of the small shop in the village square, Nesta can already feel eyes on her. They’re practically scorching holes through her shoulder blades, but she refuses to turn and look. The staring has been the trend the past two days, ever since that night, especially with the men in the village. Perhaps she should have found a way to work keeping the village’s disdain at bay into her bargain.
Sighing softly to herself, Nesta keeps her head held high, her shoulders back, as she follows the winding road back toward her family’s home. She keeps her grip on her basket tight, wills her breathing to come steady and slow, even as her every nerve ending feels on high alert, her heart beginning to skip between her ribs.
A hand grips hard around Nesta’s bicep, yanking her into the gap between two buildings. She barely has time to let out a shout of surprise before another hand is closing over her mouth. Her back slams against wood, nails biting into the skin of her arm, her cheek. The basket slips from her fingers, items skittering across the ground, as she comes face to face with a pair of brown eyes, ruddy cheeks, and lips pulled back in a sneer.
“Did you think you could get away with embarrassing me?” Tomas spits, leaning in until he’s right in Nesta’s face.
Nesta uses her free hand to pry Tomas’s fingers off her face. “Leave me alone. There’s no longer a contract between us or our families.”
“You think I don’t know how you did that? That the whole village doesn’t know? A lowly whore just like Morrigan.”
“Fuck you.”
“It seems you’ve dirtied your mouth as much as your body. Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to use both to remind you of your place.”
Panic flares through Nesta’s chest as Tomas uses his body weight to pin her in place, his hand reaching for her skirts. A low growl echoes in the space around them, Tomas’s entire body going rigid at the sound. They both look toward the other end of the alleyway, a large figure looming there. Even with the shadows, the silhouette of wings is unmistakable.
“A fae?” Tomas whispers, true fear leaving his voice trembling. “In the village? During the day?”
“Get your hands off her,” Cassian warns, voice low and threatening.
“This isn’t any of your business,” Tomas calls out, all fake bravado Nesta is sure.
Cassian prowls forward, each step slow but measured. “I won’t ask again.”
Tomas’s eyes dart between Cassian and Nesta, and Nesta watches the way his throat bobs with a hard swallow. Of all the things Tomas may be, one of them is clearly not stupid. He releases his hold on Nesta, stumbling back a few steps. His eyes never leave Cassian, a true prey caught in a predator’s trap, as he backs away.
Cassian’s smile is all ferity and teeth. In the blink of an eye, he closes the distance, hand snapping out and curling around Tomas’s throat, holding him in place. “Did you think I was just going to let you go?”
“This isn’t any of your business,” Tomas repeats, but even he sounds unsure at his own words.
“I don’t appreciate anyone touching what’s mine.”
Cassian doesn’t give Tomas the time to say anything else. His hand tightens around Tomas’s throat, lifting him up off his feet and slamming him against the wall opposite of Nesta. Tomas sputters and chokes around Cassian’s hold, his feet kicking out helplessly as he claws at Cassian’s forearm.
“What do you say, Nes? Should we break his fingers for committing such an offense?”
Nesta swallows to find her voice again. “Why stop at his fingers?”
Nesta can’t see Cassian’s face with the way he’s holding Tomas, but she can imagine the gleam in his hazel eyes. It’s clear from the way Tomas’s face completely blanches. Cassian’s wings flare out wide behind his back, keeping him balanced as he strikes. The crunch of breaking bone is drowned out by Tomas’s blood curdling scream. Cassian works with an almost terrifying ease and efficiency, as though he’s tearing mere parchment and not body parts.
Tomas crumbles to the ground with a soft groan when Cassian finally steps back. The fae crouches down, but Nesta can’t hear what he whispers to Tomas. He reaches his hands out and wipes them against Tomas’s shirt, cleaning the man’s blood off using the fabric. When he’s finished, Cassian straightens and turns back to Nesta, carefully retrieving her dropped basket and items and holding it out toward her. Slowly, she takes it from him, stepping over Tomas’s body and back into the village market and sun.
“You’re a hard woman to find, Nesta,” Cassian starts, stepping out of the alleyway behind her.
“I didn’t realize you were searching,” Nesta comments idly.
She pauses, hesitates, in the now empty town square before squaring her shoulders and continuing the trek back to her family home. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised when Cassian falls into step beside her, unbothered about the villagers who clearly scattered due to his presence.
“What did you expect? Most wives don’t sneak away from their husbands in the middle of the night.”
“I thought that was how it was done.”
Cassian’s chuckle is just as warm in the light of day. “You humans have very odd traditions then.”
Nesta rolls her eyes at his teasing words. “Not that, you big bat. I meant your bargains. Do you track down every woman you make your wife to end their marriage contract?”
Cassian’s fingers curl around Nesta’s wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle as he tugs her to a stop. With a quiet huff, Nesta turns to face him properly. It seems almost strange to see him under the bright light of the sun, without the rays of the moon casting silver shadows across his face, his wings.
He’s still as ruggedly beautiful as Nesta remembers him.
With the curls of his hair scraped away from his face and secured in a bun, the hard line of his jaw is on full display. His hazel eyes seem to burn as golden as the high noon sun, and with the light stretching through them, Nesta realizes there’s a reddish hue to those powerful wings stretched behind his back.
“I only have one wife, sweetheart.”
Nesta blinks a few times, sure that she misheard, trying to wrap her mind around his words. “What do you mean?”
“What other meaning is there?” Cassian drawls, reaching for a stray strand of her hair and twirling it around his finger, a gesture reminiscent of their night together. “The only wife I have is you.”
“So you tricked me with your bargain.”
“Tricked you? I distinctly remember you agreeing. Remember the way you begged for–”
“Stop.”
Nesta takes a firm step back, Cassian’s hand dropping away from between them and back to his side. He tilts his head as he watches her, but Nesta squeezes her eyes shut. He’s too distracting. His presence, the warmth that radiates off his frame, his eyes and the kaleidoscope of emotions swimming amongst the golds and greens. She needs to think.
“Nesta,” Cassian begins, his voice soft and low.
“I said stop.”
Even his voice is distracting, the timbre and drawl of it skating across Nesta skin, wrapping around her limbs like a warm embrace. It seems to rumble from deep within his chest, and Nesta knows exactly what that chest feels like pressed against her own. She knows exactly how his lips feel dragging across her skin, against her lips, against–
“Why?” Nesta asks, her eyes flashing open again. “Why would you make that your end of the bargain then?”
“Because from the moment I saw you in that wood, I knew there would never be another for me.”
“You can’t possibly know that.”
“I was ready to drop to my knees before you bargain or not,” Cassian continues, stepping back into her space. This time, he wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her flush to him until Nesta has to tilt her chin up to keep eye contact. “Now, I know I said you could do whatever you wished as my wife, and that is still true, but you can’t tell me you wish to stay in this sorry village. Come home, wife.”
Warmth pools through Nesta’s chest, tugging just below her ribs, at her heart, but that voice in the back of her mind still scrambles and screams. “And how do I know I’m not escaping one cruel man just to run into the arms of another?”
The question pulls a growl from Cassian’s throat. “I would never dare to lay a hand on you unless you asked. And anyone who does dare will have my wrath to answer to, just like that sorry excuse of a man in the village square.”
Before she can think twice about it, before that voice can talk her out of it, Nesta presses up onto her toes, crashing her mouth against Cassian’s. He responds instantly, his lips dragging and sliding with her own, his arms and wings wrapping around her. There’s a comfort, a safety, a contentment here in his embrace, and that warmth in Nesta’s chest puts down roots, unfurls and blooms. It settles all the way down to the very marrow of her bones, to her soul.
When she finally pulls back from the kiss, she steps back from Cassian completely before he can drag her back under. She clears her throat and resettles the basket on her arm, turning on her heel and continuing toward her destination. Only when the familiar worn wood of the door comes into view does she finally stop again, turning over her shoulder.
“Stay out here.”
She doesn’t wait for Cassian’s response before she steps inside her family’s home, the scent of fresh bread greeting her. She spies her father asleep in the rickety chair he favors in front of the fire. Typical. With an annoyed huff, Nesta sets down her basket, heading in the direction of the bedrooms.
“Nesta? Is that you? You were in the market longer than I thought. I was starting to get worried.”
Nesta ignores her sister, continuing down the hall and through the bedroom door. She digs a bag out from beneath the bed, laying it open and turning toward the wardrobe. She makes quick work pulling out all her favorite dresses and folding them into some semblance of order.
“Nesta? Is everything–what are you doing?”
Nesta only glances toward Elain now standing in the doorway, Feyre standing just behind her and peering over the middle Archeron’s shoulder. Instead, Nesta returns to the task at hand, grabbing her most beloved books and adding them to the bag as well. Her attention dances briefly toward the old desk in the corner, but she presumes even a fae would have parchment and pen for her to write.
“Don’t ask questions,” Nesta finally says, closing the bag. “But I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?” Feyre echoes, stepping back enough that Nesta can walk back out of the bedroom.
“Yes. Now that there is no longer a marriage contract with the Mandrays, there’s no…” Nesta sighs, pausing in front of their home's front door and turning back toward her sisters, but there’s nothing but understanding on Elain and Feyre’s faces. “I’ll write once I’m settled. I swear it.”
With a final nod, Nesta pulls open the door, stepping back into the sun. As if she already inherently knows where to look, her eyes find Cassian where he’s leaning casually against the trunk of a tree. It’s reminiscent of the first time she saw the fae, only this time, his expression seems to soften as he takes her in. Nesta refuses to admit to the way her heart stutters at the smile on his face.
“Is that–”
“Don’t ask questions,” Nesta cuts Elain off. “Just know that this is what I want, that I’ll be happy. Don’t let father ever try to convince either of you that you don’t deserve that too.” She starts down the path away from their house before another thought occurs to her. “And perhaps stay out of the woods. Especially at night.”
Nesta continues down the path and across the grass until she reaches Cassian, wordlessly holding out her bag. She swears it’s purposeful, the way his fingers skate across her skin as he takes it, and yet goosebumps erupt up her arm either way. She waits for Cassian to begin leading the way back between the trees and deeper into the woods, but instead the fae takes the time to secure her bag over his shoulder until it rests between his wings.
“Oh, we’ll be flying,” Cassian explains, answering her unasked question.
“Flying?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll like it.”
Before Nesta can say anything else, Cassian scoops her up and into his arms, holding her close to his chest. Nesta is quick to wrap her own arms tightly around his neck, squeezing her eyes shut in anticipation of the rush, of the wind, but it never comes. When she opens her eyes again, she finds Cassian watching her. Waiting for her permission.
“Well? Take me home, husband.”
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grippingbeskar · 2 years
Text
real convenient | the mandalorian
Tumblr media
mando x fem!reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI ( sex pollen with a twist so kinda dub/con but they talk about it, masturbation m and f, mxf intercourse) swearing, mentions of death, description of injuries
a/n: i dont have an excuse for this. not sorry.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“Go right! I’ll catch up!” You yell over the noise of the forest, and if you were calling out to anyone else the instruction would have been lost to the galaxy, but you see the shiny armour of the Mandalorian change directions and follow the target down the side of the mountain.
You have been tracking this guy for months, the Mandalorian joining you about halfway through when you discovered you were both hunting the same guy. He also had a tracking fob which made your job ten time easier, so you teamed up deciding to put both of your sources of information together to seek this guy out.
You spin and take to run through the bushes, hoping you can cut the guy off at the bottom. Endor was full of giant trees and plants you didn’t recognise, but you were hopeful the bottom of the mountain came out at a clearing so you could at least see what direction he took. Bushes jutted out at every wind in the small path you were creating through the forest, bright green interrupted by sprouting flowers and fruits.
As you wind another corner, you can hear blaster fire coming from the clearing. Your hunch was right, and as you go to move towards the break in the trees, a snag on the ground sends you face first into the bushes. Immediately you cry out, thorns and twigs cutting up your arms. The blaster fire gets louder and you realise they must be moving in towards you, and footsteps beat along the path behind you. Using your new found cover, you slink yourself further into the bush, trying to ignore the sting from a deep gash on your forearm.
The footsteps get closer and you know it’s not the Mandalorian. You know what he sounds like - you aren’t too naive to admit you have developed a little crush on him over the past few weeks. He was just so big and strong - stoic, even caring. The one time he sewed you up after a blaster shot skimmed your rib cage, and how he took off his gloves and his fingertips danced along bare skin with expert precision. You dreamed about that night - and it had been the subject of all your fantasies ever since. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Every time he spoke to you it was like a fog came over and blocked everything else but him. So, you knew these too light steps must belong to the target.
You faced your body to the path, and as the man came around, sprinting along the edge of your make shift path, you stuck your legs out and sent him flying face first into the dirt. You were on him seconds after, bringing his arms behind his back.
“You have no idea who I am!” He screams - which is true, you just know what you’d been paid to do, but you also didn’t really care. Like Mando, you were a bounty hunter, admittedly not as accomplished, so when someone paid you for a job, you did it, no questions asks.
“Shut up.” You struggle to keep him on his stomach, and he manages to rotate underneath your hold. He was facing you, and you see his eyes shift from the wound on your arm to the brightly coloured thorn bushes, then back up to you. He smiles and you punch him in the face, his body twitching underneath you.
“Your going to wish you never did that. Your fucked now, you know that?” Your eyebrows furrow in a second of confusion and he just laughs. “You don’t even know what that thing does, huh!”
“What the hell are you talking about?!” You finally flip him back over, securing his arms behind his back as you shuffle down to hold him still. He continues to laugh when you move off him to tie his feet together.
“The thorns you cut yourself on. Your friends going to have a field day when he sees what you’ve done. A shame you’re tying up the only person who knows how to make an antidote.” Your heart starts to race, but you try to hold yourself together until Mando catches up.
“Your bluffing. You think you can scare me?” He just laughs again, which only serves to piss you off more. “What’s so bad about it then? You gonna tell me i’ve got ten minutes to live, and only you can save me? Real convenient.”
“You won’t die, but it will feel like you will.” You blink, taken aback. Suddenly you don’t think he’s lying - if he was wouldn’t he make your situation seem more desperate? You look back over to the thorns, and a light blue haze flows above the bush, still disturbed from when you landed in it. You lean over, letting some of your weight off your prisoner to examine it. It was a pretty colour, and it kind of smelled nice… familiar.
Suddenly you were flying forward, face first into the dirt. You hear the Mandalorians heavy footsteps coming up the path, but not before the target slips out of his foot bindings and runs, using his bound hands to grab a branch next to your face. Didn’t he say it was dangerous? What was he…
“Son of a…” A metallic voice says from behind you before a single blaster shot followed by the thud of a body snaps you from your trance.
You turn around, seeing the dead target bent at an unnatural angle along the path, and the Mandalorians blaster still smoking from the shot. You push yourself up from the ground, brushing the dirt off your knees from your second fall today.
“Took you long enough.” You huff as you begin to examine the gash on your arm.
“Thought you said you had it covered.” He puts his blaster back in its holster and fiddles with the hem of his glove.
“Your supposed to be the muscle here.” He breaths out a laugh and flips the dead guy over with his foot, confirming the kill with the tracking fob. “Did he get you, too?”
“What?” Mando says, and you point out the branch sitting next to the body.
“I fell in those bushes before, got a big gash on my arm. He was saying it’s some kind of poison or something - not fatal, but I don’t really know how much he was lying.” His gloved hand reaches forward and examine your forearm, and you can see a bit of ripped material on his glove, confirming your suspicion.
“You fell in those?” His voice comes out more of a statement than a question, and you just nod as he drops your arm and moves past you, scanning the bushes.
“Yeah. It’s not too bad, though. We can fix it up on the ship. I think he was trying to use it as a weapon. Maybe we should take some back to examine?” You reach an arm out, but he is faster and stops you before you can touch the broken off branch.
“Don’t touch it.”
“Little late for that. I fell in it.” You stare at him blankly, but he doesn’t respond, just keeps staring into the bushes. “Your kind of scaring me. Is it poison?”
“Something like that. We should g-go. The ship.” He stuttered.
You have never heard him stutter in your life. Now you were really worried.
“What about him?” You look back at the body, sprawled across the path as the Mandalorian drags you along by your non injured arm.
“Leave him. We need to go.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s holding you too tight or maybe you were getting delirious, because the small area of skin he touches feels like it’s on fire.
“What’s going on, Mando. Quit stalling.” His pace quickens and you see him limp a little as he hurries through the forests of Endor, trying to navigate as fast as possible.
“Nothing. It’s fine. Just need to get back.”
“He said he could make an antidote.” You we’re starting to panic - maybe the target wasn’t bluffing, and you needed him.
“He was lying. No antidote. Not one he can make, anyway.”
“What are you saying? Is it - are we going to…”
“Hey. It’s going to be okay. It’s hard to explain, but we just have to keep going.” God, his voice was so low. It always sent a wave of heat over body when he spoke to you like that, but this was like, a whole new feeling.
The hold he had on your wrist started to…tingle? It wasn’t even his skin on yours, but it was sending waves of warmth straight to your core. You think about how soft his skin was under those gloves the night he sewed you up on this ship. How gentle his hands were, how confident he was. It made you think about how confident he would be if…
“I think I feel sick. You need to t- oh God.” Your stomach lurched and he yanked you to walk faster. Was it sickness? You didn’t think you were going to throw up, but it felt like you had a fever. You were starting to sweat despite the cool forest of the planet, and your whole body was shivering but you were so warm everywhere.
“You’re going to be okay. It won’t kill you. It just-“ He breaks into a deep breath, and releases it slowly. “It just makes you feel sick. Just trust me when I say we just need to get back to the ship.”
“O-okay.” You watched as he led you into the clearing where the ship was parked. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed his shoulders before. Of course you had seen him, his giant frame was impossible not to notice. But he was so big, he practically doubled your size. It would be so easy for him to just-
“Go inside. Lock the door to your room, and don’t come out.” He grabs you by the shoulders and you instantly feel that sickness again. You know this feeling. It was…
“What’s happening to me?” Your breath shakes and your legs feel like water, and his hand comes up to lightly brush against your face.
“Your going to be fine. As long as you stay away from me.” His hand drags along your cheek bone, as if it is an effort to remove it. He half jogs into the ship and you suddenly feel sick again - watching him disappear makes all the muscles in your body tense.
Stay away from him? Why was he being so cagey about what it was? You move fast, turning the corner and hitting the button to shut the ramp. You can hear the shutter of the Mandalorians door close to your left, and you start to walk towards your own room when it overtakes you.
It was like you stepped into a furnace. Your whole body was alert, and it was almost painful how warm you were. The cool metal of the wall provided little relief as you slid down, only making it halfway down the hall. You swallow - and as you let your hands drop to your thighs, you suddenly remember where you have felt this feeling before.
You were… turned on? You knew what came with that, and hell if it hadn’t happened more than a few times being stuck with the Mandalorian, but this felt way more intense. Every part of your body reacted to even the thought of him, and you found your hands drifting higher and higher up your thighs.
You let out a shakey breath as your hand lightly rested over the hem of your jeans, and you screwed your eyes shut in embarrassment. Maker - was this seriously happening? Was this the effect of those bushes the target was talking about? He wasn’t wrong - you felt like you were going to die, but as your hand slipped underneath your pants, the relief was almost instant.
You still felt that burn, and every part of you tightened and froze when your finger brushed over your centre. You couldn’t help the sounds you made - a strangled moan echoing in the metal chamber of the ship. You moved your hand a little faster, pleasure building instantly as you were overcome with the feeling.
You never felt like this before - it’s never been this instant. You’ve never been this desperate. Stars- this felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You had to move faster - it was no longer your choice. You needed release.
Your orgasm was practically simultaneous - and for a second all the pain and warmth was gone, and there was a calm silence. Your body relaxed, and you could breathe. You thought that might be it - it was over.
But in the next moment it was like nothing had happened, and you were right back on the edge, sweat starting to build and your hand began to move again.
You wanted to cry - why were you still so fucking turned on? You thought of the Mandalorian - was he in his room, doing the same thing, feeling the same frustration? Oh god- you can’t think about him right now. It will only make this ten times worse. He makes you crazy without the effect of some weird off world plant, you can’t think about it. The idea of him though - his hands wrapped around his cock, desperate for release had you finishing again, and you couldn’t cover your mouth fast enough to muffle your scream.
“Mand-oh fuck!” Your head bashed against the wall as you crashed into your second orgasm, this one lasting longer than the first, that sweet blissful relief only lasting a few seconds after you came down, and then shoving you right back into it. It was like the more you chased what your body so badly needed the more it was unattainable.
You hear a crash come from down the hall, and your embarrassment was only a underlying thought - the pure need overtaking you. You started to think - maybe it wasn’t the release you needed, but a person to give it to you. You slid your underpants up your legs and kicked your pants away, the fabric too heavy for your feverish skin.
You crawled down the hallway and leant up against his door, closing your eyes and trying to steady your breath. You turned your head so your ear was pressed against his door, and the sound you heard made you wetter than you thought possible.
You could hear him, like really hear him. He’d taken his helmet off, and he had to be at least partly unarmoued because you could hear the sliding of his hand over his cock. He was grinding out sounds you never would have thought he could make, moaning and sighing, and you would have stayed quiet and just enjoyed the sound - but he started to say your name.
“Mando? Stars - what is- I ca-an’t. It’s too hot. What do I do?“ You babble against his door and you hear him straighten up when he realises you are just outside his door. The whine in your voice when you say his name tells him everything he needs to know, and he groans in response.
“T-told you to- fuck- stay in your room.” You whine in pleasure as you slide a finger inside yourself, unable to resist at the sound of his voice. You begin curling it, hitting that spot inside you and it has you shuddering at the sensation.
“Tell me what’s happening.” You try to be quiet but you just can’t- you have to move faster; you need this more than anything.
“Thorns make you-“
“Fuck! Oh m-my go-“He draws out a “mmm” sound behind the door and it’s enough to push you to closer to the edge for the third time, your breath getting caught in your throat. “How do I m-make it stop?”
He just swallows and you hear him start up again, both of your sighs in sync as you chased your release in time. You want to tear this door down - even just to watch him. Watch how he struggles to suck in a breath as he gets closer and closer. Watch how hard his hand would grip his cock as he watched you touch yourself for him, watch how his body reacted when you came and screamed his name.
“Mando. P-please, I need something.” He groans and you hear his head lean against the door.
“I c-can’t. Not like this.” There is a single moment where you process his words in between rushes of pleasure. Like this? Does he mean he would open the door for you another way?
“What do you m-ean?” You hiccup, the movement of your hand quickening. “I just need you help me please please-“
“Relax, cyar’ika. Try to relax. Take a deep breath.” You close your eyes and your jaw shakes as you fill your lungs. Your eyes flutter open and you try to focus on a section of the wall, your hand still pumping in and out. “I can’t let you in. It wouldn’t be right to- like this. We can’t think straight.”
“I don’t care. Please just- anything. I’ll do anything. I just need you to help me.” You suck in another deep breath and your hips start to move with the pace of your hand, a moan filling the space between you.
“I-Fuck. Try something with me, okay?” You just whimper out a ‘mhmm’ and squeeze your eyes shut, the sound of your voice building a tingling sensation in your whole body.
“Tell me what your doing.”
“I’m - what i’m doing? But-“
“It’s okay, you can tell me.” His voice has dropped another octave and you can hear the pace of his hand stroking himself, and you try to match the pace and imagine it was him.
“I left my pants in the hallway. Didn’t even make it to my room.” You can hear how he relaxes into the door, sliding down a little and pumping his cock slowly as he listens to you. “I’m- I can’t stop t-touching myself. Maker I-“
“Felt too good, baby? I know, it’s okay. You touching yourself right now? You can go faster. Do what feels good, okay?” His words sent you soaring, every deep and dark desire bubbling to the surface underneath your desperation. You weren’t embarrassed anymore; whatever he asked you to do you would, but you don’t think that had anything to do with the thorn bushes affect.
“So close. Sh-shit I-“ You hiccup again, your hand working yourself in no rhythm - a wild need surging over you as you follow his instructions.
“Doing so good, cyar’ika. T-tell me what your thinking about.” He says this with a whine, almost like it’s painful for him to say it and not be able to do anything about it. You have no filter and moan out his name as you spill your truth.
“I think about you. Not just now - every time I touch myself I think of you. Imagine that it was you. How good your hands feel on me, how they would feel inside me.” You hear him groan and he chokes out your name as he comes, and hearing the sound you follow, and that sweet second of relief rushes over your body. You pull your hand out of your underwear to take your shirt off, throwing it to the side. It was damp with sweat.
“S’too hot. I can’t do this anymore. Please.” You knew how desperate you sounded, but by the sound of the Mandalorians actual whimpers from behind the door, he was feeling the same thing.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna- it has to pass. I-fuck- it has to.” His voice was driving you insane, it felt like he was right in your ear, so close to connecting with your skin but just far enough, behind a few inches of steel.
“Can you open the door? For me? P-please.” You knew you sounded so desperate, but it’s because you were. You don’t know what it was, but you just knew you needed him. It was like someone had taken all those feelings from before and amplified them tenfold - it was the only thing you were sure about right now.
“Fucking stars - I can’t.” You sit on your hands to stop them from sliding into your underpants again - everything in a haze of pleasure and pain. Never fully recovering from those previous orgasms, your body convulsed slightly as his reply made you even more frustrated. Maybe he wasn’t feeling this like you were. You had probably been a lot more affected but the thorns - and maybe he hadn’t had any feelings before to be amplified.
“You don’t want me? I’ll- i’ll go I’m sorry I just-“
“I want you. Fuck, do I want you.” He growls, cutting you off and you hear his head hit against the door again “You keep begging me like that and I’ll tear this door down and-“
“And what?” He sighs and your toes curl at the sound of his hand wrapping around his cock again. “You can. You can come here, or I can go in there. You can do whatever you want and it will feel so fucking good I swear.”
“Cyar’ika.” He moans and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs together, the pressure of your body slowly making your hands numb underneath you. “I can’t do this to you. You don’t want this.”
“Oh, I do! Please I do, I want it so bad. Need it.” You egg him on. Does he really think you wouldn’t want him, regardless of the situation? “I’d beg for you always. Always.”
“Yeah?” He breathes out, and you hear him moving around inside. You were pretty sure you were crying, the exhaustion from the pain of holding yourself back and multiple orgasms that provided little relief making you lose all composure.
“Yes! Yes. Please, I need you so fucking bad. I’ll make you feel so good I promi-“
“I know you would, baby. Fuck, I think about it all the time. S’fuckin pretty and sweet, bet you’d be so tight.” Your hands rip out from underneath you and plunge into your underwear, unable to control yourself. You weren’t even doing anything good, just applying pressure in wild motions in the hopes something- anything would release you. It builds fast and you bite your lip so hard you taste blood.
“Oh fuck! Not a- no no nonono-o fuck!” You sob into your next release and you hear him whack something in the room, a metallic crushing sound snapping your attention away from him for only a second. Your head falls to the side, gasping for air.
“It’s ok. Shh. Doing so good, cyar’ika.” Your cries get softer as his voice fills your head. Your vision was starting to go blurry and as out of it as you feel, your desperation was still just as fucking overwhelming.
“Mando.”
“It’s Din.” You stop breathing. “My name is Din.”
“Fuck. You don’t have-“
“I want you to say my real name.”
“Oh, Din. Din. Din.” You chant, hoping that if you do what he says he will just let you in. Your hand doesn’t stop it’s movement on yourself, and every muscle in your body is destroyed with need. “Please help me, Din. Please.”
“Are you sure?” Your eyes shoot open and you turn around on your knees and lean your body against the door.
“Yes, Din. Please, I need you so badly. Want you so badly.”
You hear the hiss of a seal crack, and the door slowly slides out from in front of you. Immediately you crawl in, and you find him completely naked except for his helmet that he had slipped back on, leaning lazily up against the wall. He still had his cock in his hand, and it looked painfully hard even though you could see one of his undershirts was already covered in cum.
“Din.” You whisper and shuffle over in front of him, legs shaking as you position in between his legs. Both of his hands come up to hold your face and you follow his pull, coming up on his lap to straddle him. He runs one hand down your stomach, and you moan at the simple contact.
This wasn’t just for you - you wanted to help him as badly as you wanted this for yourself. You could see the small cut on his hand from where the thorn had torn his glove, and his entire body was straining to hold himself back. You could see his cock - hard and aching and he looked just as uncomfortable as you felt.
“I wanted this for so long. I don’t want to t-“ He sucks in a modulated breath as your hand comes down to touch him. Your fingers shake at how entirely consumed in this feeling you are, but you don’t want to do anything he isn’t ready for. Testing the waters, you lean your head down and kiss at his neck, the feeling racking pleasure through your entire body.
“I have too. Nothing that happens will be anything I wouldn’t want. I’m just not so shy about it right now. If your okay with it. Please.” You let your teeth drag across his collarbone and he chokes out a reply.
“Okay. O-Okay. Fu-come here. Come closer.” You nod against him, blinking back the tears of relief at the promise of him - someone you’ve wanted to be with for what feels like forever - promising to give you what you need. Your hand wraps around him and goes a little faster and he simultaneously starts tending his abs and moaning out your name under the helmet.
His hands move to your hips, and he pulls you up so you lose sight of your hand, so you reluctantly let him go, pouting a little at the loss of contact. Even with how you are both feeling he stifles a laugh, but when he moves your underwear to the side and you feel his hard length against your core, your body jolts on top of him and you cry out.
“Feels good?” He murmurs and you nod and arch your back, struggling to hold your own weight up. The other hand left your face and traces lines up your back. You realise the bursting flame of need has simmered a little lower now that you were close to him, and when the head of his cock rests against your clit, you drop your forehead against his helmet.
“Please, Din. Want you to fuck me.” He nods and moves your hips for you, taking the weight off your legs. As soon as he finds your entrance that desperation comes back, and you nearly start crying again.
“Close your eyes.” He groans and you do what he says, squeezing them shut. You hear his helmet rolling away to the side and his lips capture yours the moment he drives into you. “Fucking hell, cyar’ika.”
“Oh m- Din! Fuck yes!” Energy suddenly floods your body and you find the strength to meet his thrusts, each time he hits you harder and deeper than the last.
It feels euphoric - every nerve in your body feels alive and screams in pleasure as he drives up into you. It’s not just the effects of the thorns; you have been wanting this for months. Wanted to feel his mouth against yours, his tongue slowly searching every inch of your mouth and memorising your taste. Wanted him to fuck you, hard and uncensored, losing all that composure that you know he has to put on and taking it all out on you.
“This what you wa- fuck-wanted, pretty girl? Knew you’d take me so fucking well. Maker- so t-tight.” Your mouth was hanging open, trying to keep up with the pace of his lips and his hips but failing. He held you in place, and you rolled your hips when you could, every time making Din whisper a high pitched whine into your mouth.
“I wanted it so bad. You fuck me s-so good, Din. I’m gonna cu-oh god I’m gonna cum!” He speeds up and every single orgasm from before seems like it was building a tower inside of you, stacking higher and higher, and Din was about to crash into it and send it tumbling down.
“Cum for me, cyar’ika.” Both of your hands come around him, one finding his hair and yanking it hard. Din groans as he keeps his brutally fast pace, and you feel the world shift as he lays you down, still holding you in his arms as he fucks you. “So beautiful.”
The new position mixed with those two simple words sends your entire world dark, then white, then red as you lose all sense of anything other than cumming for him. You scream his name, dig your fingernails into his back and bite down on his lower lip as your orgasm racks your being. You feel the hot breath of Dins mouth on your face, and it makes you shiver as you feel his strangled breath when he cums alongside you.
It’s almost instant, the relief you feel when you begin to come down. All those muscles that were so taught and strained instantly relax, the heat in the room becomes a welcomed warmth from the cold metal against your bare back. Din pulls you back up so he is leaning against the wall, never pulling himself out of you. You don’t want him to - the idea of being any further away from him than this makes you feel cold.
“You’re fucking perfect.” Din mumbles against your shoulder, and you hear a hitch on his breath as you adjust your hips slightly to hold him closer. “You feeling okay?”
“So good. So much better. Are you? Okay?” You sigh, and sink into him. He kisses your collarbone.
“S’good.” He goes quiet, not holding you half as hard as you need him to. Clearly he’s giving you an exit, now both of you were coming out of the haze of the thorns, but it’s not an exit you want to ever consider.
“Can I stay? With you?” You keep your eyes shut as he presses his forehead to yours. You feel him shift underneath you.
“Y-you want to?” You nod against him and keep your eyes closed. He kisses you - this one slow and searching for confirmation, and you give it to him, returning everything he throws at you.
“I always wanted to stay, Din.” You feel him jolt inside you as you say his name, and although your body is tired and weak, you want nothing more than for him to stay this way forever - and to take you whenever he wants.
“Let me see your arm.” You had completely forgot about the cut on your forearm, and you lift it up between you, keeping your own eyes closed.
“How is it?” You ask, and you know he looks up at you because you can feel the tickle of his curls on your forehead.
“Have to stitch it up.” The idea sends a shiver down your spine, knowing how much you loved it the first time. As you react so does he, his cock still inside you twitching slightly.
“Is it gonna hurt?” He leans down and kisses a small patch of skin near the cut, and you flinch at the contact.
“Mm. You’re gonna be okay, though.”
“Will we?” You ask, suddenly a little scared at the idea of leaving this room, going back to reality. You didn’t want things to go back to how they were, not now you have had a taste of what being with him feels like. You want to have it all the time, want to know how he feels when you both aren’t under a haze - how he would fuck you nice and slow, romantic if you wanted, and hard and rough if you asked.
“We’re gonna be just fine, cyar’ika.” He mumbles against your skin and he pulls you in to his chest, tighter than before. It was exactly what you needed, and you know you believe him.
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