#he's also in 'catch me if you can' and 'the deer hunter' which i just watched which is why i was in his tag

[dykesbites]

Help i dont know who Christopher Walken is and when I saw the gifset you reblogged I just thought he was a very handsome lesbian

OH MY GOD?

#MY FAV ASK EVER... #he would've made a very handsome lesbian... #these days he looks like an evil grandpa though #hes in some rlly good movies the first one of him i saw was 'the dead zone' #he's also in 'catch me if you can' and 'the deer hunter' which i just watched which is why i was in his tag #christopher walken #mail 💌 #this ask is still killing me #save me lesbian christopher walken

[hanzajesthanza]

what does milva look like?

since my post about geralt was so popular, i thought to make this a kind of series of posts, because i also realized how helpful they can be when trying to draw or write the characters...

and instead of complaining that depictions of characters are not books-accurate, i could actually do something to actually help😅

physical description

she is tall and lithe, muscular... apologies for putting this passage upon you immediately, but it is a thorough description of her, and i've redacted the annoying bits.

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 2: “(...) Slender and graceful, she walks as if she's dancing. A bit too narrow in the hips for my taste, and her shoulders are a little broad, but still feminine, ah yes feminine (...)” “Shut up, Dandelion.” “On the road,” the dreaming poet continued, “I happened to touch her by accident. Her thighs, I tell you, they are like marble.”

by the way, dandelion mentions she's wearing a shirt here, but i don't like the context in which he says it, but just know she's wearing a shirt.

when she shoots, her skill and strength is striking and beautiful:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: For a few heartbeats Milva stood motionless, like a marble statue of a petrified goddess in the forest. Only when all the noises had subsided, she removed her right hand from her left cheek, lowering the bow. Noting the escape route of the animal in the corner of her memory, she sat quietly, propping her back against the trunk. She was an experienced hunter, she had trotted in from the woods since childhood, having shot her first deer at eleven, and a fourteenhorns stag - an extremely happy hunting omen - on her fourteenth birthday. But experience had taught her that pursuit of a wounded animal was pointless.

Lady of the Lake, Ch. 9: ‘Run for it! We have to!’ ‘No!’ screamed Milva, standing up with bow in hand. She straightened up, assumed a shooting position; a veritable statue, a marble Amazon with a bow. The marksmen on the gallery yelled.

an important detail is that when she shoots, she always brings the arrow to the same point:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 2: Maria Barring, nicknamed Milva, stretched her bow. She measured, calmly, with the chord pressed to her face. (...) Milva wiped her face splashed with rain, in which you could still see the imprint of the chord. Although she fired several times, there was only one mark – the string was always placed at exactly the same position.

spoilers | her miscarriage occurs when she was ten weeks pregnant, meaning she was in the first trimester of pregnancy and was not 'showing' the pregnancy yet. kind of obvious because the plot point is that she hid the pregnancy from the rest of the company, but i felt like i should include this detail anyways:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 7: ‘In which month?’ ‘She refused, fairly impolitely, to give me a date, including the date of her last menstrual cycle. But I know this. This will be the tenth week.’

as for her age, she is an adult, but not as young as someone like angouleme, who is approximately eighteen or nineteen. this description of the company contrasts the two. likely, she's in her late 20s or early 30s.

Lady of the Lake Ch. 9: One had hair as white as snow, and the sword in his hand flashed like lightning. Another was a fair-haired woman, bending a bow as she rode. The third rider, quite a young woman, carved open Zadarlik’s temple with a sweeping blow of a curved sabre.

her hair

her hair is tawny or dark blonde. unfortunately this is mistranslated in the english translations as "flaxen" or "flaxenhaired" which is mildly inaccurate, as flaxen suggests a light yellow blonde.

the word used in polish is płowy, like a pale brown color tinted with yellow. like, tawny, fawny, i guess? dark blonde is a catch-all... she's a type of blonde, but not flaxen blonde or the golden color typically associated with blonde hair.

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: A long time passed as they walked through the woods cloaked in shadow, the tall silver haired dryad and the girl with flaxen (płowy) hair. Neither interrupted the silence.

she typically has a long braid, but when unbraided, her hair is long to her shoulders (in this scene, she has just bathed and changed clothes before speaking to geralt):

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: However, she obeyed the summons, convinced that it was some elf being treated who wanted contact with his detachment through her. When she saw the wounded witcher and found out what he wanted, she flew into a veritable frenzy, running out of the cave with her hair wild and unloaded all of her anger onto Aglaïs.

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: “Forgive me.” he said after a moment. “You're right. I exposed you. It was too dangerous a job for …” “For a woman, yes?” She tossed her head, and threw back her hair which was still damp. (...) She wiped the sweat from her brow, and gestured at the dryads who came. She seized the witcher, who was still seated, by the shoulders and leaned over him so that her long blond hair fell on his pale face.

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 5: Milva will lead you through the woods… What is it?’ ‘Nothing.’ Milva brushed her hair from her shoulders. ‘Nothing. Speak, witcher. I want to know what else you have to say.’

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 7: And disgusting aberrations shall be handed down as myths. For sociological purposes.’ ‘ I understand shit all of this,’ Milva said calmly, brushing aside hair from her forehead with the shaft of an arrow.

in mid-september of 1267, after geralt's company crossed the yaruga on september 10th, during the time in which they were in riverdell, she cuts her hair at the nape of her neck...

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 3: The archer regained her physical capacity soon – with the psychological it looked worse. She would not say a word for whole days, from morning to night. She would gladly disappear and hold herself apart, which started to worry everyone a little. But at last came the change for the better. Milva reacted like a Dryad or an elf – violent, impulsive and hard to understand. One morning, before our eyes, she pulled out her knife and, without a word, cut off the braid at the nape of her neck. ‘I do not deserve this, because I’m not a virgin,’ she said when she saw us watching open-mouthed. ‘And also not a widow,’ she added, ‘this concludes my mourning.’ From that moment on she was like before – harsh, caustic, with a loose tongue and with quick access to words not socially acceptable.

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 5: ‘You’re going to make jokes on the scaffold, Angouleme. Which is fine with me. Who is Geralt travelling with?’ ‘I have already told you this also! With a pretty boy named Dandelion, a troubadour who has a lute. With a young woman who has dark blond hair, worn in a braid that is cut at the neck. I do not know their names. And with a man without a description, his name likewise was not described. Altogether there are four.’

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 5: (...) ‘We are five, not four,’ he [Regis] quickly summarized after Geralt had finished his story. ‘We have been five since the end of August, and five crossed the Yaruga. Milva only cut off her braid in the river country. Only one week ago.* Your blond protégé knew of Milva’s cut braid. But did not count five. Strange.’

* a note on the exact timing of when she cuts her braid: the company crosses the yaruga on the 10th of september. they arrive in riedbrune on the 17th of september, and it's stated that they spent five days travelling with the beekeepers, so they began to travel with the beekeepers on the 12th of september. this conversation between regis and geralt occurs directly after they adopt angouleme into the company. the fight between geralt and cahir occurs on the 23th of september (the equinox). thus "one week ago" likely means something like the 11th or 12th of september? so before this, during august and during baptism of fire, she has a braid, but after this, around the time they were travelling in riverdell, during tower of the swallow and lady of the lake, she has cut, short hair.

her outfit, clothing, accessories

she wears practical wear, ... i.e., pants:

Baptism of Fire, Ch 7: Milva was the last, for her movement suddenly became frighteningly slow. She was hit with a bolt, thought the witcher seeing the girl drag herself overboard with effort, and then fall limp onto the sand. He jumped towards her, but the vampire was faster. ‘Something has torn in me,’ she said very slowly. Her hands were pressed to her lower abdomen. Geralt saw the legs of her wool trousers darken with blood.

her outfit is not described thoroughly, but something interesting to me is that zoltan says she looks too much like a member of the scoia'tael to approach human cottages. this is just my imagination, but perhaps it has to do with her style of dress, certain patterns, or maybe it's just the fact that she's tall, graceful, and has a bow.

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 2: “I will go.” Milva declared. “No,” protested the dwarf. “You look too much like a Squirrel. If they see you, they may be frightened and humans tend to be unpredictable when they're scared. Yazon and Caleb will go. As for you, keep your bow ready to shoot, to cover them if need be. Percival will be ready to warn the others. Stay alert, in case we need to retreat.”

cahir also confuses her for an elf when he hasn't yet seen her up close:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 5: Then the rider, with slow movements, drew from his belt an arrow with long feathered fletching and threw it at Milva’s feet. ‘I knew,’ he said calmly, ‘I would get the chance to give you back your arrow, elf.’ ‘I’m not an elf, Nilfgaardian.’ ‘I’m not a Nilfgaardian. So put down the bow. If I wished you any evil, I would have let those peasants beat you.’ ‘The devil knows who you are,’ she said, ‘but thank you for the help. And my arrow. And for the evil bastard I kicked.’

perhaps it's something to do with pattern and cut of her outfit, as described earlier in the book:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 2: Geralt was not surprised by the mistake. He and Dandelion were wrapped in gray cloaks that had belonged to elves. He himself wore a doublet given to him by the Dryads, patterned with the leafy motifs favored by elves, his face was partially covered by his hood and he was sitting on a horse with reins that were typically elven and characteristically decorated.

she's mentioned to have a silk scarf which she gives to geralt to disguise him as he rides to belhaven with angouleme and cahir:

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 5: He carefully wriggled Milva’s silk scarf around his head. He jammed on Regis’ hat. Once again, he checked the position of sihill on his back and the two stilettos in his boots.

another accessory she has is a fox-fur kalpak she wears when they departed beauclair to ride south:

Lady of the Lake, Ch. 7: ‘Moufflon yourself!’ yelled Angoulême. ‘When I say a horse, I mean a horse!’ Milva, as usual, preferred practice to theory. She dismounted and bent over, pushing her fox-fur kalpak back on her head. ‘The brat’s right,’ she decided after moment. ‘It’s a horse. I think it’s even shod, but it’s hard to say, the blizzard has covered the tracks. It rode over there, into that ravine.’

she also has a broad leather belt (this will be a surprise tool which will help us later...):

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 5: And suddenly they parted, rolling away in different directions, hands curled above their heads to protect themselves against the whistling blows raining down on them. Milva had removed the wide leather belt from her hips and wrapped the buckle once around her hand. She ran to the fighters and began to beat them with all her strength, sparing neither her arm nor the belt.

her shoes, or boots are laced in baptism of fire, and she also wears boots when at a casual breakfast in beauclair:

Baptism of Fire, Ch 1: “Please tell me. Did you learn anything?” “Yes I did.” she snorted, unlacing and removing her soaked shoes. “With little difficulty, because she seems to have caused quite a stir. You had not mentioned that this young lady was so important! I thought she must be your stepdaughter, she must be one of those poor little unfortunate and abused orphans. And here we have the princess of Cintra! Ha! And perhaps you are too a prince in disguise?”

Lady of the Lake, Ch. 4: The hens, the black and the speckled one, had become audacious enough to begin pecking at Milva’s boots. The archer drove them away with a brisk kick (...)

her gear

she has a belt with a pouch and a bone-handled hunting knife:

Baptism of Fire, Ch 1: “No?” The dispassionate voice of the healer snatched her away from her thoughts, “How will it be then? What should I tell him?” “Let him go to the Devil.” Milva growled, tugging at her belt from which hung a pouch and a hunting knife, “And you too can go to the devil, Aglaïs.”

later, on september 25th, at the parting of the hanza, she gives this knife to angouleme (which comes in handy later during the two fights they find themselves in):

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 5: Nearby, Cahir sharpened his long Nilfgaardian sword. Angouleme wrapped a woollen band around her forehead and stuck a hunting knife stuck in her boot – a gift from Milva. The archer and Regis saddled their horses. The vampire had left his black horse to Angouleme, upgrading her from the mule Draakul.

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 6: The witcher dodged the blow with a half spin and hit him just below the temple. Even before Novosad fell, Angouleme made a throwing motion – a knife whizzed through the air and the attacking Yirrel staggered, a bone handle jutting out from under his chin. The bandit dropped his sword and tore the knife out with both hands. Blood poured from his throat as Angouleme jumped up and kicked him in the chest, knocking him to the ground. (...) One of the men holding Geralt was killed. And one of those who held Angouleme. The girl broke away from the other, quickly drew a knife from her boot, and cut with a sweeping motion. In her haste she missed Nightingale’s throat, but made a pretty slit on his cheek, almost to the teeth. Nightingale cried instead of croaking, and his eyes almost bulged out of his head. He sank to his knees as blood gushed between the hands with which he held his face.

she also has a leather brace on her left forearm and a quiver of arrows on her thigh:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: Milva adjusted the worn to a shine leather protector on her left forearm, held together with a bunch of grips attached to a loop. She plunged a hand into the quiver on her thigh.

the most interesting part, her bow:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: But she had finally found such a bow. This was of course in the Cidaris Seaside Bazaar (...)The bow came from the far North. It had a wingspan of sixty-two inches. It was crafted from mahogany, had a perfectly poised grip and a smooth neck with laminated layers of woven wood, whale bones and tendons. (...) The arch had an incredible lightness and was accurate to perfection. Although not too long, hiding in the composite entwined a considerable distance of wire. Equipped with silk-hemp string and velvet accurately stretched over the protruding handles twenty-four inches, to give the tension precisely fifty-five pounds of power. True, there were arches which gave even eighty, but Milva considered this to be an exaggeration. Fired from her bow, an arrow penetrated two hundred feet within a heartbeat, and at a hundred paces had more than enough momentum to effectively strike a deer and a man if he wore no armor, pierced through. Milva rarely hunted animals larger than deer, or men in heavy armor.

and the arrows she uses, grey-feathered and spiral-fletched herself, with four blades:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: Instinctively, out of habit she inspected the blade tip and fletching. The blades were bought from market – she chose on average just one out of ten offered to her - but she always feathered the arrows herself. With most commercially available ready-made arrows, the feathers were too short and arranged directly over the pole, while Milva applied hers to fin in a spiral, lying no shorter than five inches.

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: She ran quickly to the slope of the hill, searching intently through the brambles, moss and ferns. She was looking for her arrow. Equipped with a four-bezelled tip, so sharp that it shaved the hair on her forearm, launched from a distance of fifty yards, it would have pierced the deer right through.

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 2: The rider didn't manage to say anything more. An arrow with gray feathers hit him in the centre of the chest and he dropped from the saddle. Before he fell to the ground, Geralt already heard the whistle of a second arrow. The tip hit the other soldier in the abdomen, low, right between his fingers that were holding his fly. He howled like an animal, bent in half and fell back over the fence, knocking over and breaking the poles.

later happenings and outfits

her ribs are broken by the druids during their meeting in caed myrkvid in early october:

Tower of the Swallow Ch. 7: In the next instant they hung in the air, surrounded by branches and shouting at the top of their lungs. (...) Milva just grunted. Her head dropped to her chest. Geralt cursed outrageously. It was all he could do. (...) ‘I think she has a broken rib,’ she said, looking down at Milva. ‘But I have a cure. I will give it to her to aid in healing. I regret what has happened. But how was I to know who you were? (...)’

at beauclair in october through january, she had some different outfits depending on the situation:

Lady of the Lake, Ch. 3: ‘It turned out that Milva was well,’ said the Witcher pensively, ‘although she still had a bandage around her ribs. She remained in her chamber, though, and refused to leave, not wanting at any cost to put on the dress she’d been presented with. It looked as though there would be a protocolary scandal, but the omniscient Regis pacified the situation. After quoting a good dozen precedents he made the chamberlain bring a male outfit to the archer. Angoulême, for a change, joyfully discarded her trousers, riding boots and footwraps, and soap, a dress and a comb turned her into quite a pretty lass. All of us, let’s face it, were cheered up by the bathhouse and the clean clothes. Even me. We set off for the audience in a very decent mood—’ (...) ‘The famous succubus,’ remarked Reynart, serving himself more cabbage, ‘began the memorable series of witcher contracts that you took on in Toussaint. Then things speeded up and you couldn’t keep the customers away. Funny, I don’t remember which vineyard gave you the first contract …’ ‘You weren’t present. It happened the day after the audience with the duchess.’ ‘No wonder. It was a private audience.’ ‘Private, huh,’ snorted Geralt. ‘It was attended by some twenty people (...) And there were we, our entire gang, including Milva in male costume.’

later, at the october banquet, she does wear a dress, however:

Lady of the Lake Ch. 3: ‘The great and grandiosely heralded feast,’ began Geralt, ‘was preceded by serious preparations. We had to find Milva, who’d hidden in the stables, and convince her that the fate of Ciri and almost the entire world depended on her participation in the banquet. We almost had to force her into a dress. Then we had to make Angoulême promise she would avoid saying “fuck” and “ass”.

horse

in baptism of fire, she rides a black horse:

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 1: The witcher stood up. “Will the elves give me a horse?” He repeated. “Take whichever one you want.” she said after a moment. “Just make sure they do not see you. The mercenaries attacked us on the crossing, it was bloody … Oh and do not touch the black one, that one is mine … Why are you still standing here?”

Baptism of Fire, Ch. 4: ‘You speak the truth,’ the old peasant said. ‘We must finish the task, because time is running out. Give us the horse. The black one. We need it to find the vampire. Take down the child from the saddle, woman.’ Milva, who during the entire conversation was staring impassively at the clouds, slowly looked down at the peasant, her features sharpened dangerously. ‘Are you talking to me, pig?’ ‘Of course you. Give us the black horse, we need it.’ Milva wiped her sweaty neck and clenched her teeth. The look in her tired eyes became that of a wolf.

however this horse dies along with the rest of the company's horses during the battle of the bridge:

Tower of the Swallow, Ch. 3: Apart from Milva’s tragic accident and the numerous injuries and wounds Geralt and Cahir had sustained, all of our horses had been killed or maimed in the battle – excepting my trusty Pegasus and the wayward Roach, the mare of the witcher.

tldr:

hair: dark blonde, fawny-colored. long and often braided before mid-september, at which she cuts the braid at the nape of her neck.

eye color: not described!

age: adult, age not described, likely late 20s to early 30s

build: tall, slim, muscular. slim hips, broad shoulders.

clothing: generally, practical wear. a shirt with sleeves (she rolls up her sleeves to butcher her kill in baptism of fire ch. 1). she also wears woolen leggings. she has a strong preference for wearing "male costume", i.e., no dresses unless she's forced into it.

gear: a wide leather belt, a bone-handle hunting knife which she gives to angouleme on september 25th, a leather bracer worn to a shine worn on her left forearm, a quiver worn on her hip, a 62-inch mahogany bow. her arrows are grey-feathered, spiral-fletched, and the blades are bought from market so it likely varies but she is described as using four-bladed arrowheads.

occassional accessories: a silk scarf, a fox-fur kalpak.

rides a black horse during july and august.

#character descriptions in the books #milva #milva barring #the witcher books #c: milva #excerpt #using some dubious fan translations bc im too lazy to transcribe from the physical books #i actually couldnt find anything abt her wearing a braid in baptism of fire and thought i had lost my mind #it's mentioned in ttos though so it's not like it never happened lol

[dragbunart]

I've always wanted Fiadg to have some bee motifs because of their importance to Irish far lore, but until the recent Helluva Boss episode couldn't figure out how to do it. But using Beelzebub as a base for how you can mix bee and animal designs I was able to do it.

I've also been workshopping her character and backstory

Just me rambling about my Oc under the cut (So, If you don't like ocXcanon you don't have to read it)

Fiadh, or Fianait Shields was a Cambion (half-demon, Half-human) who was born and raised in Ireland. She belonged to a very secluded community that worshipped Fae, their main god being this Horned God. Spoiler, the Horned god is the Demon Furfur.

Fianait's mother and Furfur ended up spending a night together before her mother's wedding to another man. Because she looks so much like her mom, no one realized the man raising her wasn't her biological father.

Her mother ends up passing while she was very young, and her father didn't have time for her, especially during the summer when she was out of school. So she's sent to live with her Uncle in New Orleans while she's on break.

This is where she meets a young Alastor. They end up becoming very close friends.

They grow up together during the summers until Fianait's about 15, when she has a bunch of stuff for their religion she has to complete. This includes having to meet her arranged betrothed. Who is... A questionable choice in personality. Fianait was already pretty shy and quiet, being more of a wallflower than anything else, and her arranged marriage partner is... Abusive at best. He causes her to become even quieter and retreat even further into her shell, almost to the point of being mute.

She finds a minor escape by becoming an Army Nurse during the Great War (WW1), which delays her wedding. This is where she meets Alastor again, whose been drafted. Alastor had been shot in the leg, and it takes them a second to realize this person who just seems familiar is their childhood friend.

When Alastor sees she's gotten even more weary of the world and hears about her situation, he offers to marry her and take her back to America. He does this A) because he is genuinely worried about his friend, and B) He's always been a bit possessive (Can be seen as Platonic or Romantic) of Fianait.

The plan, (or so Alastor says) is for Fianait to marry him and live with him until she can get her citizenship and a job. Build a stable life for herself, then they can divorce and she doesn't have to worry about her family dragging her back to Ireland for her arranged marriage.

They spend the first few years pretty happy in their arrangement. They cook and eat together. Fianait helps the upkeep of Alastor's house, even after she gets a detective job for the police. And Alastor becomes a popular radio host... And a Serial killer.

Fianait's ex-fiance had tried to harass the couple into divorcing and sending her back, but after he went a little too far Alastor killed him. Between that, the war, and members of Fianait's family, who had also begun harassing him, he developed a taste for murder. And he keeps it fairly well hidden for a while.

But Fianait catches him... Mid kill, covered in blood. Alastor is frozen caught between killing her or figuring out some other way to keep his secrets. And Fianait... Just stares at the situation. As an officer, she should arrest him, or report him. But she loves him, and he saved her. And her loyalty to him outways her responsibility to her job. She helps him get rid of the evidence and ignores his crimes from then on.

This carries on more or less, for years until Alastor's death. Which was a complete accident. Alastor was killed by a confused hunter who mistook him for a deer. And Fianait losses her mind. Over time Alastor had made sure she was dependent on him, so she doesn't know how to function without him as her rock.

She continues his killings and pins them on his killer as an act of revenge. She then takes her own life using a mix of shrooms and opioids.

When she ends up in hell she meets her biological father, Furfur, but she has trouble connecting with him, despite his adoration of her. With most sinners going by a different name she lost hope that she'd ever find Alastor again.

This is when Bee shows up. Her energetic personality reminds Fiadh of her lost husband. So she latches onto Beezelbub as a lifeline. Bee realizes that Fiadh needs someone to lean on and becomes almost a mother to her. Encouraging her to enjoy herself in hell.

Fiadh comes out of her shell the tiniest bit, eventually singing in front of people at Bee's parties (mostly older songs or postmodern jukebox-type covers). When she's on stage she imitates her husband's old attitude, knowing his personality drew people to enjoy his performances. It's her way of keeping his memory alive in her.

She and Alastor meet again by accident in Cannibal Colony. Fiadh had been booked at Mimzy's club as an act. Alastor had been in the area and wanted to check on his friend and recognized his childhood friend-turned-wife's voice immediately. He meets her backstage and makes tiny comments about New Orleans or the 1920s to double-check she is who he thinks she is, and when this proves true... He calls her by a nickname only he used to call her.

The pair are very happy to be reunited and largely go back to how they interacted before Alastor's death. Fiadh splits her time between the ring of Gluttony, her father's place to learn her birthright, and Alastor's homes. For the first time in her existence, she's surrounded by so much love she can truly enjoy herself. She loves the life she made for herself.

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel oc

[davxdalexander]

Supermarket

Where Fleet asks David about the hunters, stocking up for Winter and details on Cole.... @fleetsummers

fleet summers

-in the midst of stacking a crop of squashes for people to take, catches sight of David and hurries over to him, still holding an enormous butternut squash- David! David, I need you.

David Alexander

-David is taking Roxy out for a walk when he hears his name and he stops- Yes?

fleet summers

Come inside! I have a bone for Roxy, it'll keep her occupied. I wanna talk to you and I don't wanna stand out in the cold for it.

David Alexander

-David raises his brow quizzically but walks inside. Roxy heads in first, getting excited upon hearing about a bone and he follows not long after.- Roxy, sit. -Roxy sits patiently but excited, as evident by the tail wag- Alright, what can I do for you, kid?

fleet summers

-holds up his finger and scurries off, extracting a big bone from a container and setting it in front of Roxy- Good girl. You entertain yourself while I talk to your daddy. -goes back to David, rubbing his hands- I just wanted to talk about what kind of game you expect, so I know which preservation supplies to have on-hand. And I ... -demurs slightly, pink flaking his cheeks- ...sort of wanted to talk to you about the other hunters.

David Alexander

-Roxy picks it up once Fleet calls her a good girl and immediately starts to chow down on it. David, in the mean time, leans up against one of the shelves and crosses his arms- Well, probably looking at some deer, turkey and duck if we're lucky, then ya got your rabbits and boars. I'm gonna get a big huntin' party out soon to make sure we got enough to last the winter months, but luckily the deer should be out and about quite a bit, even in the cold. -his brow raises just a bit as he mentions the other hunters- Alright.....did one of them do something I need to worry about?

fleet summers

A boar. Ohmigosh. How do you normally handle something that size? I mean, I know the deer are big too, but there's so much more you can get out of a boar, all the intestines and everything. Do you field strip them or bring them back whole? I would kiss you on the mouth if you bring them back whole. Unless that would have the opposite effect. -grins, but then subsides a little at the question- Noo-ooo-ooo ... I'm just fond of two of them and also nosy.

David Alexander

Normally field strip, but if I get something to help cart the whole thing back, like a horse, I could bring it back whole. Although you might want to try kissing someone else. Zack, for example. Might help him relax a bit. -he shifts a little in his place- Okay, and you're asking me because.....?

fleet summers

Mostly I wanted to talk about the hunting. But I figured, you're out there in extreme situations with both my dad and with ... Zack, yes, so why not kill three birds with one stone? My dad's a butcher, too, so maybe if we get him on board with bringing back a whole boar he could help plan....

David Alexander

-David nodded along- That might not be a bad idea. Could see about butchering out in the field, although it would have to be quick. Smell of blood attracts unwanted visitors. But you know what we're low on, as far as meat, so how much room we got and how much do we need?

fleet summers

-instead of answering that- What's he like? As a hunter. My dad.

David Alexander

Cole? -David thinks about it for a minute and shrugs- Damn good hunter. I've had no issues with him. Haven't really gone out to hunt with him yet but he always manages to bring some good stuff back so not complaints from me.

fleet summers

But what's he like. I mean, as a person. Does he argue with you? Does he show off? Is he humble? Does he go for big showy game or does he bring back a bunch of smaller stuff but a lot of it?

David Alexander

Uhhhhh....-David hums as he tries to think on how to answer- No arguments, we don't butt heads. I wouldn't say he shows off but he's confident. -he pauses as he tries to think about what he'd seen Cole bring back- It's a good mixture of both.....out of curiosity, why do you ask?

fleet summers

Oh! -is a little taken aback by the question, but rallies- I don't know him very well, I didn't grow up with him. It's kinda weird meeting your dad when you're a full-on adult, y'know? There's a whole different set of factors you use to form an opinion. I won't be building forts out of blocks with him, so I wanna know if he's reckless while he's trapping rabbits.

David Alexander

-David nods- Ah, see, that makes more sense. I don't know if I'm the best person to be askin' this stuff, kid. Have you tried spending time with him?

fleet summers

-gives David a flat look- No, I thought I'd find out about him solely through osmosis. -sighs, fussing with his sleeves- I just want more of a comprehensive picture, and since you work with him I thought you might have some kind of insight. -purses his mouth for a moment, then tries- ...do you know much about Zack?

David Alexander

-his brow raises, clearly unamused- Alright, alright. For what it's worth, I haven't seen anything bad about your old man. You could have ended up with a lot worse. Believe me. -he huffs a little bit in amusement- Zack.....he's a pain in the ass. Haughty, full of himself, thinks he's a God among men and fucking irritating beyond belief. That is probably someone you should steer clear of.

fleet summers

-bites back a secret, mischievous smile at David's assessment of Zack- Oh, all right, then. But I suppose he's got reason to be haughty, doesn't he? Zack. He's a good hunter or you wouldn't keep him on. -reaches for some raisins, offering them to David and nibbling on them himself- You sound like you know all about being stuck with a terrible dad.

David Alexander

He's a good hunter, yeah, but there's a difference between being a good hunter and a good person. -David takes some of the raisins and pops them into his mouth- I know a thing or two, yeah. Not every dad is deserving of that title.

fleet summers

I don't know about that. Whether you're a good dad or a bad one, you're still a dad. Are you? A dad?

David Alexander

Me? Oh, no, I'm not. Never had the luxury of starting a family. But if I was, I wouldn't be anything like my old man.

fleet summers

How can you know that for sure, though? -stares at David intensely, fixated on this now- That's part of why I want to know more about my dad. I wanna know if anything about me is him, even though he didn't raise me. If there's anything that's nature coming out over nurture. Maybe it would be the same for you, no matter how much you didn't want it to be.

David Alexander

Well, for one, I don't drink. -he shrugs as he takes a breath- Mine was an alcoholic, abusive asshole who blamed his wife and kid for all of his problems. If I ever had a kid, I would never imagine wanting to hit them like he did me.

fleet summers

-mirrors David, taking a breath as well- No, I don't think you would. I'm sorry you had to grow up with that. Does it get under your skin that there's so much drinking in town?

David Alexander

It's okay, kid. It was years ago. Bastard's gone and that's all that matters. -David shook his head- Doesn't bother me. I was in the Army. Drinking is a culture there. People want to drink, I ain't gonna stop them. The only problem I'll take is if someone gets physical when they shouldn't.

fleet summers

That's much more zen than I would've expected. But I suppose leading the hunters you'd have to be? Especially with people like my dad and Zack to be in charge of.

David Alexander

Yeah, gotta be able to counter the hot heads that often come in to be hunters. And have the patience to teach newbies like Jake how to hunt. Getting angry doesn't solve anything. Just makes thing worse.

fleet summers

-nods, pushing the bag of raisins towards David as Roxy trots up with her bone- No doubt. I've taken up enough of your walkies time, girl! -ruffles the dog's ears- And thank you for indulging me, David. I really do want a whole boar, if you guys can swing it. I can kiss my dad and Zack both and I'm willing to shoot for Jake, too, but you I'll bribe with raisins.

David Alexander

-Roxy pants happily as Fleet ruffles her head and David smirks as he shakes his head- Rox, girl, you are spoiled rotten. -he pats Roxy's back as he takes the bag- Any time, Fleet. I'll see what I can do before it gets too cold. -he gives him a mock salute before heading out-

#david && fleet #c: fleet 001

[buddyfightbarista]

tagged by @waterlord, thank you!

[repost with animals you associate with your muse!]

(answered this on my personal accidentally earlier on, sorry about that!)

1/ the domesticated red fox 🦊

Red foxes are associated with slyness, courage and confidence! Shia is a dynamic person, brimming with vitality and bright like a red fox; but this doesn't hinder her ability to trick, manipulate, and lie through her teeth. The female name of a fox is a vixen, which has been used in modern times to describe women exuding charisma and feminine appeal (just like her!)

2/ the rooster

Early birds catch the worm! Not one to sleep in late, Shia's a morning person and can't abide laziness - the morning is the best time to research and pour back the coffee! Of course, just like the rooster waking everyone up, she also cultivates the bad habit of waking all her housemates up at the same time she does: anybody found idle will have to skip breakfast.

Bloody King thought he was signing up for a research partner; what he got was a fussy landlord!

One more thing; when she's happy, she struts and flits around reminiscent of a rooster!

3/ the sea anemone

Surprised that the sea anemone is an animal? Although it doesn't possess a brain, it has been scientifically tested and proven to have consistent choices under pressure. Shia is the same way - consistency and logical reasoning are key in her field of work, causing her to suppress her natural instincts.

Even in the case of a sudden cockroach infestation :D

4/ the kitsune

As I mentioned the fox earlier, this might feel like I'm repeating myself. But the kitsune has a few distinct traits that are important to mention! The kitsune is commonly known in folk mythology from Asia as a selfish, desire driven, and cunning being. Shia, likewise, is on a destructive quest for revenge at all costs, even though she may appear harmless, and she will probably throw away constructive endings if it means she will attain a pyrrhic victory over the one controlling Buddyfights from the shadows.

(edits start here)

5/ the snake

Can't believe I forgot this one originally! Her character has a very strong association with snakes because I conceptualised her as the avatar of the Cardfight!! Vanguard card White Snake Witch, Mint. As you can see from her deck page, it didn't turn out that way, but the remembrance of her reptilian beginning is still extremely strong for me, hence the pink colour predominant in her character design that echoes Mint's.

6/ the deer

This one is something that I forgot about for a while; in one of my favourite book series, The Girl Who Circumvated Fairyland In A Ship Of Her Own Making, there is this tribe of deer-girls called the Hreinn. The Hreinn live underground because they're afraid of being snatched up as wives for hunters if their deerskins are stolen. Shia has the same dual-nature as them: her softer, childish side that she's kept locked away ever since what happened to her family, and her harder, more street-savvy side. Both are equal parts of her personality, just the second side is displayed more often.

#cardfight vanguard #future card buddyfight #fcbf roleplay #fcbf rp #cfv rp #cardfight!! vanguard rp #rooster strut ;) #kitsune meow #captain foxy #anemone supremacy #deergirl #hreinn #the girl who circumnavigated fairyland #muse inspo #snake #white snake #white snake witch mint

[writingforatwistedworld]

Dear Rook, I admire you for your world view, the positive way you see, the way you admire beauty and make sure others know about it, the way you are quite observant and the way you can also give honest feedback. May you find many new beautiful things to see in the future, many hats and quality custom made bows and arrows for you. (Reader inside the world)

If someone speaks French and asks themselves why some of the words are weird: ask Google (Pls correct me if I wrote something wrong!!!)

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, stalking, murder, animal fur (so animal death?), burning people

Rook Hunt-Admiration

After getting ready one morning for the coming day you saw something strange in the corner of your mirror. Turning around you saw a letter on your desk. Strange... You didn't remember putting it there. When you opened it you immediately knew from who it was and how they were able to get it in your room without your permission.

Mon amour,

your words have made this hunter happier than he ever was in his life. I cried tears of happiness! Not only have I gotten such a heartfelt letter but it is also from you! Has the goddes of fate finally smiled upon me?

But this isn't about me. Non! You, my dear shining star, have told me something absolutely wonderful and I need to reply!

Your admiration for me is something I treasure dearly. Yet you sadly fail to see the bigger picture! Every time I observe you, every time I siot in that tree I cannot understand how such a perfect being could ever exist. Absolument magnifique! What am I talking about! There is no boundary to your perfection! Calling you simply beautiful would be a crime without a fair punishment!

Your eyes never fail to amaze me. They are as innocent like that as a deer yet at the same time just the smallest bit of danger has to present itself and you turn into a greater one than Roi des Lions! Quel miracle! My eyes have been blessed! You are perfection itself! I doubt I can ever see something as truly beautiful after laying sight on you!

Mon pauvre coeur! I have to confess a sin! My soul has been trapped by your captivating self. It has gotten that bad that I catch myself following you. Roi des Poisons beauty turns into ugliness whenever I see him with you in the same room. He is truly dust! Dust upon your perfect visage! Non! Poison to you! Never even believe for a second that he could best you! He might have a following but there is no need to believe that this is excusing him from saying that he is more perfect than you are! A bas le roi! Brûlez le tyran! How dare he?

But let's start with a more pleasant topic. Did you like my presents? I never got any kind of reaction from you. Could it be that you dislike them? Or are you afraid that they might have been too expensive? Please do not worry. Every single one of those furs has been shot by myself. How else could I make sure that you get the best of the best? That one day during winter you looked absolutely dashing! Back then you wore the scarf I made for you. You must have been surprised to see something knitted for a change, right? The sight made me want to scoop you up right there and then and lock you up in a cabin in the middle of the woods. Just we two. All alone. Quelle merveilleuse pensée! The sight of others close to you tests me. Or mon amour, are you the one testing me? Them being so close to you makes me wish that I could just shoot them with my bow. But I wouldn't do that. Not yet.

Always yours,

Rook Hunt

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #yandere rook x reader #yandere rook hunt #tw: yandere #tw: possessive behavior #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: stalking #tw: murder #tw: animal death

[celestialking]

Eaten by the jungle

◇ NSFW 18+ only ◇ Minors/Ageless blogs DNI ◇ You will be blocked ◇

Finished Writing: September 16, 2021

Pairing: Manhunt!Dream , AMAB!Reader

Warning: amab, knife play (ax against throat), bondage, primal (chase), humiliation, degrading, face fucking, spanking,

Sapnap had given you one task and one task alone. Keep an eye on Dream. As George would say you managed to fail one simple task. 

It wasn’t your fault though. Dream is incredibly nimble through the greenery of the forest. He had managed to lead you into a thick jungle it was dark and every shade of green matched his cloak perfectly. Dream could be anywhere. He was probably up in the trees laughing at you right now. 

You stopped by the edge of a river to splash yourself with the cool water. The walkie-talkie on your belt made a static noise. 

"You have an eye on Dream still?" Someone asked you

You sighed before responding. "No I lost him in the jungle, but there's this cave nearby and I can see some iron. I really need it so I'm going to smelt and keep looking,"

You stepped into the cave making quick work of all the iron. It was however taking forever to smelt. It wouldn't be a waste to make a blast furnace, would it? I mean it would surely benefit everyone later. Something scurried in the back of the cave. 

You quickly grabbed your sword. "Sap?" You whispered, creeping closer. A touch illuminated the darkness. It was just a bat. You sighed and lowered your weapon. 

How silly. 

You turned to walk back to your furnace. 

Suddenly you were shoved hard to the ground, sword clattering against the stone floor. You scrambled to your knees grasping the hilt of your sword. It was Dream. He stomped on your wrist making you let go of the sword with a yelp. Before you could think about doing anything else there was an ax up against your throat. 

"Don't even think about it," 

Your fingers dug into the dirt below you. "You gonna kill me?" 

Dream pretended to think about it for a moment. That was a mistake. 

You took that moment to throw the dirt, and gravel mixture into his face. Dream cried out covering his eyes. He blindly swung his ax but you were already gone, taking off deeper into the caves.  

 Dream chuckled calling after you, your name slipping easily off his tongue. "There's nowhere to run," 

You panted coming to a dead end. The palm of your hand smacked against the wall. He was right. Of course, he was right. Dream's always right. 

You turned back to the entrance maybe you could sneak past him. 

"Where did you run off too?" Dream's voice sang, echoing through the cave. 

You froze like a deer in headlights before ducking behind a wall. There was a loud scraping noise. It sounded like his ax. 

"Let's play a game. You escape the cave, you're out free. I catch you-" there was a long break. "Well- let’s just say I get a reward. Don't worry about answering, just stay silent if you'd like to play," 

You considered it for a moment. 

There wasn't much you could give him other than- Oh. 

Whatever. You won either way. Being railed by Dream right now seemed so much better than the manhunt, you sure would like to- 

You were almost to the exit of the cave when a large force collided with your back sending you tumbling to the ground on your chest. 

"Get off me you fucking tank," you squirmed underneath him, attempting to look back at him over your shoulder. His fingers trailed down your arms which were pinned to your side by his legs. 

"What to do first?" He mused. 

Dream thought to himself silently leaving you shivering in anticipation below him. It wasn't long before he decided on something. Dream quickly pulled you to your knees, undoing and throwing down his pants. "Suck," he said, a hand immediately burrowing into your hair. His ax was held up by the side of your throat a promise to what would happen if you tried to run. 

You gladly took him into your mouth, however. Slowly drawing out his pleasure. Maybe long enough for the hunters to catch up. While this was for fun you also wanted to win. Dream snapped his hips surprising you. You made a choked noise before shooting him a glare through your lashes. 

"C’mon angel. I'm doing all the work here," Dream sighed, slowly thrusting his hips forward. 

You pulled away with a glare settled on your face. 

"Fucking do it yourself if you're gonna complain so much. I'm not the whore that made this his reward," you snapped. 

Dreams grip in your hair tightened, chuckling as he shoved his cock in your throat. 

"Okay," he purred. "Then I will," 

His pace was brutal. 

Your hands flew to his thighs. Dreams cock bruised the back of your throat forcing tears into your eyes. "So much better when you just shut up and take it like a good little toy," 

Dream ignored the slick noises of him fucking your mouth, focusing more on how your lips wrapped around him perfectly. He pulled out, your tongue following. He chuckled tapping his cock on it. Dream pulled your head back by your hair before cumming over your face. 

"Don't worry, I'm not done yet," he grinned. 

Dream managed to pull most of both of your clothes off. He produced a piece of rope, securing your hands behind your back. He pulled something out of his pocket. 

You went to tease him for having it but nothing came out. Dream smirked looking full of himself. "Where'd all that sass go?" 

Seriously- Who brought lube to a competition? 

You couldn't dwell long on the thought as Dream positioned you up on your knees, face against the ground. Cold fingers circled your hole before slowly opening you up. Broken whimpers and moans left your lips. His fingers weren’t in you for very long before the sound of him slicking his cock up filled your ears. Your eyes practically rolled back as Dream began pushing in. You hadn't been paying attention to the size before but you sure as hell were now. The stretch burned but it was delicious. His cock kissed up against your prostate. 

He hadn't even begun, and you were already drooling. Impatiently you moved forward then your hips back to meet his. Dream didn't take too kindly to that grasping you tightly. 

"Am I going too slow for your liking? I thought I'd let you adjust but you really do want to be fucked like a whore," 

"Not a whore," you were able to whisper before nothing but pleasure-filled noises was the only sound you could produce.

Dream pistoned his hips into you. His hand pressed into your lower back, arcing it more. "Not a whore...but look at you, getting off by being caught and fucked like one," he continued slamming into you, brutally grasping your hips. You'd be surprised if you could stand after this. 

Dreams hand collided with your ass making you jolt. "Fuck you moan like a little whore too," he listened to those heavenly noises spill from your lips with every movement of his hand. 

You were squeezing his cock so tight. Dream didn't care. The quicker you both finished. The more time he had with one less hunter. He'd definitely be finding you after the match though. This wasn't a one-and-done. Not with the way you felt around him. 

Dream’s hips stuttered, his hand moving to your cock. You whined at the extra stimulation. "Go on. Cum for me angel," Dream cooed. 

You sobbed at the overwhelming pleasure, spilling on his hand. Dream wasn't too far after, filling you deeply with his cum. Dream pulled out, leaving a final smack. You whined feeling him smooth over the permanent handprint on your ass. 

"I'm sure someone will find you soon, I have a game to win," Dream hummed. 

He laid a kiss on the angry red mark and then moved you to lay on your back. He chuckled running out with a promise of you being in his bed tonight for a victor's reward. 

You turned your head to the side. There was a small knife and a note saying for in case no one found you. 

You didn't have time to consider going after him as you heard shuffling in the opening of the cave. 

Sapnap stood over you grinning. "The other hunters can handle dream on their own, I don't mind having sloppy seconds," he waited for a moment for you to give some sort of sign for permission. 

The blush on your cheeks darkened and you nodded, slowly spreading your legs. He stared at your abused hole leaking Dream's cum, your own cock dripping cum onto your stomach. You listened to the sound of his belt being undone and thrown to the side. 

Maybe George or Sam would accidentally find you too-

Reminder: DNI = Do Not Interact

If you are a Minor/Ageless blog, Do not follow. Do not comment. Do not reblog. Do not like. DO NOT INTERACT.

Either add your age to your bio/pinned, message me in private, or DNI.

#celestial:scribbles #celestial:drm

[cantalouupe]

curiosity

nsfw!!! kaeya x f!reader

prequel to this drabble

hand & finger kink, semi public sex except you don’t have sex with him he just makes you suck on his fingers

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The knights of Favonius weren’t a group of people you mingled with. While you had no quarrels with any of them and had even spoken to some before, they just weren’t people that you considered friends.

There was nothing you held against them, no vendetta you had. Your feelings of them were just neutral. Pleasant conversations are easy to have with the ones stationed around town, where they’re willing to help you with really anything you need.

That’s probably why you’ve never really had to interact much with them. You’ve never been in danger and so help from them wasn’t something you had to seek out.

The higher ups, though, were a different story. You’ve also not interacted with any of them, but heard of them incredibly often, seen the outrider around town.

But that was all.

You had understood they were busy with all their work and obviously didn’t expect them to come out just so they can talk to you, a random citizen - still, you were curious. With all the big talk of them they were bound to be quite an interesting few people.

Sara, who worked at The Good Hunter - a little restaurant near the center fountain in town that served amazing food - had told you about them. The interesting honorary knight that travels with a little fairy in search for his sister, the outrider that you’ve seen before, the librarian who apparently was incredibly intimidating when you don’t return books, and even Jean, the acting grand master. You’ve heard about all of them, your curiosity causing you ask around for stories.

The first time you met any of them was on a sunny day, not unlike any other. You were out on the trail, foraging mushrooms as per Sara’s request, when you ran into a suspicious looking group of hilichurls. The odd creatures were entranced by an odd looking sigil on the ground that glowed a faint purple.

You had chosen to mentally mark where you were and turn back to go to town and report it. Hilichurls close to town was already a safety hazard, but them acting the way they were felt off and made a pit of worry grow in your stomach.

The guards at the doors of the Knights of Favonios Headquarters had questioned what you needed when you ran up, and you explained the situation, requesting to speak to Jean if possible.

Guilt ate at you when you pushed despite them telling you she was busy with work already. “I really would like to speak to her directly,” you told them.

They were going to shut you down again, but from behind them the door opened and out came an infamous face.

Of the many people you’d been told about, the Cavalry Captain was among them. Kaeya was very popular in town, apparently appeared at the tavern on most nights to chat with the townspeople. There was a lot of mystery shrouding him and his backstory but despite that he was a favorite of many people.

He looked as he’s been described to you, with dark hair and tanned skin, one eye covered with a black eye patch. His bare eye, beautiful and piercing blue met yours and you looked away immediately, feeling as though you were seeing a myth in the flesh.

“Like I said,” your eyes, probably a little wide from seeing the captain, fell back to the two guards you’d been talking to. “I think it’s a good idea if I talked to Jean directly.”

You hadn’t meant to alert Kaeya as he was leaving the Knights Headquarters but he seemed to hear, voicing out an “is everything okay?” as he approached the three of you.

“I’m not trying to be any trouble,” you tell him once the situation was explained.

He watched you shrink slightly under his gaze, pretty eyes staring up at him - and shook his head. “It’s understandable to want to report something like that immediately. I can take you to her.”

Obviously he had some sort of authority over the guarding knights because they had nothing to say about that, stepping back to their spots on either side of the stone stairs leading to the building.

You mentally let out a breath and nodded up at the blue haired male, thanking him quietly and apologizing again for making a fuss.

“Come on now,” he smiled down at you, calming your nerves a bit. “Stop apologizing for trying to keep Mondstadt safe. If anything we should be apologizing to you for not catching it before you did.”

The short walk inside the Knights Headquarters was quiet, and you took the few silent moments as a chance to get a better look at Kaeya. It was weird seeing him in front of you after only hearing about him for so long.

His clothes were much different from the other knights, from the fur on the shoulder to the color of the clothing. A small blue glowing charm hung from the side of his hip - that’s right, he had a vision.

When he opened the door to Jean’s office, you caught sight of his fingers that peaked out of dark gloves. Fingerless gloves?

“Are you going to come inside?”

Oh no, you weren’t standing here gawking at his hands, were you? You blinked at him like a deer in headlights and you wanted to melt into the floor at the amusement written on his face.

You ducked your head in embarrassment, slipping passed him silently.

Your shame was short lived, however, when you stepped into the room and saw Jean. Now you knew for a fact awe was visible on your face. It’s not every day that you get to see the grand acting master herself.

She was kind and genuinely concerned about you after you ran through the scene you saw for a third time in that day. The abyss order have been causing some trouble for the knights and they had been trying to track down more about them and their plans. What you saw didn’t give away much but Jean reiterated that it was an important bit of information and she thanked you for coming to her for it.

You preened at that, glad you could be of help to her.

Before you left, she thanked you again and assured you that you didn’t need to worry, the knights would take care of it.

And that was the end of it. Nothing else regarding that situation happened and life returned to normal.

The next time you ran into one of them it was at The Good Hunter. You were chatting with Sara while waiting for your food to finish cooking when a very familiar pair on hands came to lean against the counter you ordered at, with a very familiar voice accompanying them.

“I’ve been wondering about you,” Kaeya muses.

Wondering about you? You had to take a moment to process that, forcing out a small “Why?” to which he didn’t respond.

“Eat with me,” he responds instead, smiling at you and he is nice and a knight so who are you to decline.

So, you two eat together. He’s just as charming as people have mentioned, voice smooth and easy to listen to. By your wonder, he tells you in more detail about the Knights of Favonius, and you soak up his words like a sponge.

He is able to describe specific stories that you didn’t otherwise know about, along with other people that you hadn’t heard much about.

You find it fascinating and ask more specific questions - about visions. He answers every inquiry thats thrown at him, about his own cryo power and that of others in Mondstadt.

“Does the fingerless gloves have something to do with your element?” You ask him, and he laughs lightly at you.

“You like them, huh?”

Does he remember your lingering gaze on his hands at your last meeting? God, that’s mortifying. You hadn’t meant it to be a weird question.

When you gape at him, sputtering and trying to grasp a suitable response, he reaches out and taps a finger on the underside of your chin. “Cute,” he murmurs, before taking his leave, claiming he has work he should go attend to.

You stare at him while he leaves, reeling from his actions.

Things move more quickly after that.

You don’t know who really started it, but Kaeya’s hands become somewhat of a teasing point. It wasn’t a serious attraction at first but now his hands are the first thing your gaze catches on.

In turn, he’ll tease you for it, brushing the back of his knuckles against you or tapping a fingertip on you like he did that first time.

It boiled over one day in the Knights Library, you alongside him, curiously looking at all the different titles that were offered. Kaeya reaches out to grab a book and your eyes zero in on his hands.

Bare hands.

He wasn’t wearing those gloves today, skin fully on display and that shouldn’t be as important as it is but there you are, staring at them.

“You’re not-“

He has to know. Theres no way he accidentally forgot to wear them on a day he would be with you. Another tease, definitely.

“My gloves? Didn’t think you’d notice something like that.” Oh, he knows.

Cocky as ever, he taps his finger into your bottom lip - as he has before - and your mouth parts in response. An invitation.

The taste of clean skin bursts on your tastebuds, two of his fingers sliding inside.

“Ah, I knew it,” he murmurs, moving so you were situated in the corner of the wall and bookshelf, his body shadowing yours to shield you from any possible onlookers.

Your knees buckle from under you when he presses down onto your tongue, a whimper sounding from your throat.

“Look at you,” he coos, head leaning in so his lips brush against your ear. “How was I supposed to hold myself back when you want this so bad?”

Your hands find purchase on his biceps, gripping them to ground yourself while he rubs the pads of his fingers against your tongue. Saliva pools and threatens to spill over your lip, and Kaeya knows it, fingers moving so that it drips down out of your mouth and onto your chin.

“You know,” he starts again, fingers sinking deeper into your mouth as his other spare hand wraps loosely around your waist. “If you’re so good like this I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I fuck you.”

Another noise leaves you, fingers digging into his arms. Your head knocks back into the wall right behind you and your eyes flutter.

You feel lucky that you cant speak because you know you wouldn’t be able to trust yourself to not beg him to fuck you right here in the library.

It feels filthy, the drool on your chin and his breath against the side of your face while he tells you these things. You felt hot and if your eyes were opened your pupils would be blown out.

“You’ll have to come see me some time, so I can really take you apart with my fingers.”

#drabble #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #kaeya genshin impact #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut

[diaphragmjellyfish]

You Just Wait

gif is from @twilightofficial​

A/N: The hardest part of writing a fic is honestly choosing the love interest XD I have so many fictional boyfriends it’s hard to choose just one. I have noticed a significant lack of Jared Cameron content and he’s super adorable so here it is! Also, I left the concept a little bit more vague so more people can relate to it. It doesn’t specifically say vaginismus, it’s more of a general “sex doesn’t normally go well for me” type thing. 

Bottomless, covered in chocolate sauce, walking through the woods, phone dead, in the middle of August on a weekday. How did you end up here? Jared Cameron. Your boyfriend. He had roped you in to an elaborate prank on Paul that hadn’t exactly gone as planned. Needless to say, you were desperate for a shower and a nap. A hot meal wouldn’t hurt. And you were beyond irritated, not even looking Jared’s way as he walked next to you in a similar state. 

“Babe, if you let me carry you, we’ll get home way faster,” he whined.

You didn’t respond, only walking with more frustration around the roots and fallen trees. It was growing dark, just about twilight, and you knew you wouldn’t be reaching either of your houses at this rate. You were miles into the forest. But your pride kept you from accepting Jared’s wolfy-back ride, because he tended to make lots of jokes about being between your legs and you riding him and blah blah blah, and you honestly might punch him right now if he did that. 

So you just kept ignoring him, arms folded tightly against your chest because, yes, it was August, but this was also the Washington coast. It got pretty chilly no matter what time of year it was. 

“I can see you shivering from here,” he pleaded, almost sounding in pain at the thought of you being uncomfortable. “It’s only gonna get colder. Let me help you.”

You ignored him. 

“C’mooonnnnnn,” he cried. His preferred way of cracking your silence was usually by annoying you out of it, and it was working. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon c’m-”

“Jared, I swear to God!” 

“Aha! She speaks!” he laughed. 

“”Only to tell you to be quiet, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” he cut you off. “I’m way stronger than you!” He was teasing you into talking to him. Even if it was in the form of arguing. Damn, he always got you to crack. You stopped walking, turning to face him, arms still held tightly around yourself. You couldn’t resist a good bicker, and Jared knew that. He would get the sass to come out, and then once you got tired, he’d apologize and you’d be made up within half an hour. That’s what always happened. And you couldn’t exactly stay mad at those big brown puppy eyes for long. 

“Physically, maybe,” you chided, “but I’m definitely way smarter than you.”

He stepped closer to you, a playful smirk on his face. “What, are you gonna read me to death or something?”

“I’m gonna strategize a huge plan, manipulate you, and leave you here in the forest by yourself. That’s what I’m gonna do,” you sassed. He never took arguments to heart, which is one thing you loved about him. He knew how grumpy you could get and would let you vent, and then make you forget all about the problem. 

“Oh, okay, yeah sure,” he giggled, hands going up in defense. “I’m just saying that in this situation, there is no way you come out on top. You run, I catch you. You hide, I sniff you out,” he teased. This made you crack an almost imperceptible smile, but one he noticed nonetheless. “And if you did somehow manage to get away from me, you’d freeze to death in an hour flat.” The cold breeze that caused you to shiver more violently could not have had worse timing. Obviously, Jared noticed, and his face dropped. He approached you slowly, silently asking if you were still mad enough to not let him touch you. When you didn’t step back or stop him, he wrapped both his arms around you and brought you into a huge bear hug. You sighed at his warmth, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He’d given you his hoodie hours ago, and was left in only a pair of shorts, though he didn’t seem to notice. Damn him and his werewolf heat. 

You still shivered in his arms, but his feverish temperature was a relief to your aching bones. 

“See? Could’ve been warm hours ago,” he teased once again, noting your clinginess. 

“Shut up. I’m still mad,” you mumbled into his neck. He laughed softly to himself, rubbing his hands up and down your body to create more heat. After a few minutes, you were starting to struggle to keep your eyes open. It had to be close to 2 in the morning, and you’d been walking for what felt like hours. Jared could have easily run home and let you brood alone, but he stuck with you no matter how long you went without speaking to him. 

“Sleepy?” he murmured into your hair. You just nodded softly, and didn’t protest as he bent down, one hand going behind your knees and the other staying around your back. He picked you up with ease and started walking through the woods once more with an “Okay Princess, I got you.” His stride never faltered, easily avoiding tripping over roots or slipping on rain-soaked moss. He must have been walking for about 30 minutes, never so much as breathing hard or shifting you in his grip. You didn’t sleep, but welcomed the rest he allowed you. Your eyes were closed, head resting on his shoulder when you felt him stop. You looked up, and in the distance, maybe 50 yards away, you saw a small building. 

“Hunter’s cabin, I’m guessing. No one’s home,” Jared stated, anticipating your questions. 

“Think there’ll be blankets?” you wondered, tired, yet still playful. 

“What, am I not enough for you?” he feigned mock hurt as you giggled at his unshakeable good attitude. Without another word, he began walking towards the small cabin, which was about the size of an average bedroom. When you reached the door, he set you down gently, holding his hands close to your waist while you found your footing, and then wrapping an arm over your shoulders to keep you warm. 

“I’m assuming it’s locked,” you sighed, disappointed. 

“Babe, no door is locked when you have super strength. Honestly, I thought you’d have more faith in me by now,” he smiled brightly. 

“You can’t just go around kicking random people’s doors in!” you scolded. 

“Okay, first of all, I can tell by the smell that no one’s been here in years. Second of all, how would anyone know it was us that broke in and not, like, a deer? And third of all, I’d say this counts as an emergency,” he sassed right back at you. You looked at him in annoyance, too tired and cold to actually care. 

After a long sigh, you muttered “fine.” 

He immediately turned to the door, not letting you so much as inhale before he slammed his foot into the space next to the knob, the door all but flying off its hinges. The whole scene caused deafening noise that interrupted the silence of the trees. 

“Jesus!” you called out in surprise, a hand shooting up to your pounding heart. You look around, though knowing no one was around for miles. Jared only turned to look at you, a cheeky smile adorning his face, and said,

“See? Told ya.” 

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the loving and admiring energy that overcame you. Jared really was one in a million, and you were lucky to be by his side. He could be in the worst situation in the world and still find something to laugh about. 

He motioned for you to go in first, ever the gentleman. Walking through the door, the first thing you noticed was the dust. The entire inside of the cabin was covered in a thick layer of it. There was a small, rickety couch with cushions so worn they had holes in them throughout. And the fabric… my God. It looked like something from the 60’s, an obnoxious floral that had faded over time, and now just looked flat out stained. There was a flimsy throw blanket over the back of the couch, a cooler in the corner of the room that was covered in dirt, and on the opposite wall, a fireplace! No wood, no matches, but it was there. The floor was scattered with bullet shells, receipts, and decayed leaves. It was obvious no one had been in here for at least 3 or 4 years. 

“Okay, I can work with this,” Jared said. You really were jealous of his optimism. But, as disgusting as this place was, it beat the frigid breeze of outside, and had a place where you could rest your heads. You walked over to the couch, grabbing the blanket and beating the dust off of it. It was really only meant for one person, but you guys were okay with getting close. It would do. 

Jared walked over to the opposite corner where the cooler sat by the fireplace and opened the lid, peeking inside. 

“Just water,” he said, sounding almost disappointed. 

“Were you really gonna eat whatever was in there?” you spoke incredulously. 

“Babe, I’m starving. You have no idea how close I am to licking that chocolate sauce off of you,” he voiced. You had almost forgotten about the sticky sauce that covered both of your clothes. That prank really was a disaster. You looked down, face heating at the thought of Jared’s mouth on you like that, and turned to the fireplace where he stood. He was looking on the mantle, oblivious to the effect his comment had on you, and exclaimed “Aha!” before reaching up to grab something. “A lighter. We’re saved! Well, you are,” he laughed looking over at your shivering form once more. “Stay here and get comfy. I’m gonna go get some wood.” 

You tried your best, sitting on the edge of the couch and immediately feeling a spring poking you in the butt. The couch really was tiny. You guys were gonna have to bundle up close to fit. The thought excited you. Sure, you and Jared had always been comfortable touching and holding each other, but there were certain areas of your relationship you had yet to explore. More… intimate areas. It was your fault mostly. To make a long story short, you’ve just never enjoyed sex. You found yourself not able to get aroused, which made things painful. Sure, you wanted to. You’d thought about it a ton. But in the moment, your head was so full of thoughts of ‘What if he thinks I’m ugly? What if I smell? Am I doing this right? Is he having a good time? Am I taking too long?’ that you just stopped trying. And obviously you wanted to have sex with Jared, but you were worried he’d be disappointed. By the time he got back, just a few minutes later, you had brought your knees up to your chest, holding your legs close in an effort to preserve warmth. 

“Doing okay Sweetheart?” he asked gently. You gave a small smile and nodded in response. He plopped the logs in his arms down into the fireplace, scavenging the floor for receipts, dried leaves, anything that would catch fire. He dumped these into the fireplace and lit them, the fire catching within seconds. He walked over to the other side of the room where the couch was before bending down, grabbing the bottom lip of it, and pulling it (and you) across the floor, one-handed, and closer to the fire. “Better?” You had always been in awe of his strength. Let’s be honest, it was just plain sexy. Again, you just nodded your head, staring at him in adoration. 

He sat beside you on the couch, throwing an arm over your shoulders again, and leaning back, taking you with him. You cuddled into his side, watching the fire. 

“Ya know, if you take away the shitty couch and sticky clothes and add a few more blankets, this would actually be pretty nice,” he finally spoke. 

You laughed softly, replying, “It would. The couch isn’t even awful, but these clothes are really ruining the mood for me.” 

“Well why don’t you get out of ‘em, hot stuff?” he joked. You knew he wasn’t serious because you guys haven’t gotten that far yet, but something, maybe the exhaustion or the way he kept challenging you today, made you want to actually do it. Before you could lose your nerve, you reached down, pulling off the hoodie and shirt in one go and tossing them onto the floor. You relaxed back into his arms in just a bra, acting like nothing had happened. He was frozen beside you. Maybe it was mean, but you wanted to tease him a little. He’d put you through a lot today, so you wanted to mess with him a tiny bit. So, coolly, you brought a hand onto his thigh and began running it up and down, going higher and higher with each pass. He was still frozen, so you gave a light squeeze, and heard him inhale sharply, though he tried to hide it. 

“I thought you were tired,” he commented.

“Guess I’m not anymore,” you responded, turning to face him boldly. He immediately leaned in to kiss you, softly as always. You reciprocated, bringing your other hand up to cup his face. His arm that was around your shoulders slipped down around your waist, pulling you in further. Jared had always been gentle when kissing you, so you knew you’d have to make the first move to deepen it. Which is exactly what you did. Running your hand up his head and grabbing his hair, you pulled him towards you even more and traced your tongue across his bottom lip. He responded by matching your energy, tongue slipping out to caress yours before bringing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling softly. You guys had never kissed like this before. You felt a bead of warmth pool in your abdomen, something you’d never felt with a guy before. Sure, you’d been turned on while watching certain videos or reading certain fanfiction by yourself, but you’d never actually experienced it with someone before. It was exciting. Maybe it was the knowledge that you could stop things at any time and he wouldn’t be upset, or maybe it was how in love with you he really was, but you didn’t feel nervous or worried. You felt comfortable. 

Taking things a step further, you swung your leg over both of his, moving to straddle his lap. 

He pulled away slightly at this, making you ask, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he responded, “I just don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You smiled, “I’m not doing anything I don’t wanna do. Are you?” 

“Are you seriously asking me that question right now?” He laughed, making you giggle along. 

You leaned back in for another kiss, when he stopped you again. “What exactly… are we doing, though?” You knew what he was silently asking. Are we about to go all the way? And you didn’t know yet. This had started out as playful teasing, but now you were beginning to think that maybe you did want to try something. With Jared. He was it for you, the one you wanted to spend forever with. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. And he’d taken such good care of you these last few hours, keeping you warm, making sure you were storming off in the right direction, that you knew he’d appreciate you in a more intimate sense. 

“I- I kind of would like to try… some stuff,” you answered. 

He looked at you, eyes wide, before answering, “What kind of stuff? I mean, I will do literally anything you ask me to do and you know that, but I didn’t really prepare for this. Like, I don’t… have what we need.” Oh, a condom. What a responsible boy. 

“I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too quickly before looking down and fiddling with your hands. “If you want to.” 

“Y/N, I would be absolutely fucking honored,” he breathed, before cupping your face and pulling you into the most heated kiss yet. Your tongues danced, hands wandering. Yours, across his muscled chest and abdomen, and his, down your waist and around to cup your pantsless ass, squeezing firmly. It felt nice. He handled you in a way that was gentle and painless, but still dominant and firm. And it made the heat in your belly grow. You continued kissing for several minutes, your hands moving up his neck and eventually landing in his hair once more, and his remaining on your ass and waist. You softly sucked at his lower lip, nibbling slightly, and it made him let out a low growl and pull your hips forward onto his, where you felt something hard push against you. You knew what it was, and it didn’t scare you like it normally would. You did, however, feel your damp underwear. Shit, that’s never happened before. You were normally bone dry at this point. You let out a soft sigh, grinding your hips onto him once more. 

He softened his kisses slightly, bringing a hand around to your stomach and running his knuckles lightly across your lower abdomen. 

“Can I?” He questioned delicately. 

“Yes,” you replied almost immediately. He brought his hand under the waistband of your underwear, when you said, “Wait,” and he stopped. “Just one thing. I kind of… have never been able to do this without it hurting a lot, so maybe you could just try to be gentle?” 

“Oh, baby, you’ve been in pain before? I’m so sorry,” he whispered genuinely. 

“It’s okay, I just…” It was now or never. He should know. “Normally I’m super nervous about everything, so I can’t really… get into it, and when girls aren’t into it it’s kind of… dry? And that makes it kind of hurt really bad.” You faded out at the end, feeling embarrassed. He brought his hand out of your underwear and up to your chin, tilting your face up to look him in the eye, looking concerned. “But I’m into this, I mean, right now. I’m excited. I just thought I should warn you,” you awkwardly laughed at the end. 

“You promise? Because you know that if you want to stop we will, and I would never be upset or pressure or anything like that,” he spoke sweetly, making your heart flutter. And you did know that, which is why you felt comfortable. Every other time, you felt that if you went past a certain point, you couldn’t say stop. Couldn’t call it off without making whatever guy you were with super mad and then… who knows what would happen. But when Jared spoke those words, you believed him. 

“I promise. And I know you’ll stop. But I don’t want you to.” 

With this, he scanned your face one more time for any signs of hesitation, and when he found none, brought you down into another heated kiss. You felt his hand trail from your chin down to your breasts, skimming over your bra, down your stomach and once again to the waistband of your underwear. Only this time he didn’t go under. He stayed on top of the fabric and brought his hand down between your legs, index finger brushing lightly against your core. You barely felt it, and began to worry that you’d once again feel numb. Oftentimes, when guys would touch you or go down on you, you felt nothing. It was like you were broken or something. And you started to become concerned that tonight would be no different. 

But he brought his finger down again, repeating the same movement, only with significantly more pressure this time, and it had you release an involuntary sigh. And instead of removing his finger like he had the first time, he kept it over your clit, drawing firm circles. 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, Jared staring intently at your face. 

“Oh, wow,” you finally breathed. 

“Good?” he asked cockily, wearing a large smirk. He repeated the movement again, drawing a line from your core to your clit, stopping to rub circles. 

“Mmm hmm,” you sighed. He leaned in once more to meet you with the sloppiest, dirtiest kiss you two had shared yet, and it only made you grind your center into his hand. He repeated the action several times over, and you were a writhing mess in minutes. 

He brought a finger under your waistband once more, stretching the elastic out before letting it snap lightly against your skin. “Let’s take these off, hmm?” You’d never stood up so fast in your life, practically ripping the panties off of you, taking your bra off with it. Jared stood up to remove his shorts, but stopped to stare. 

“What?” you questioned shyly, moving to cover up.

“You’re literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” 

The boy quite literally had heart eyes for you. 

“Oh,” you responded meekly, cheeks heating up. When you kept looking back at him, he seemed to snap back into the moment and hurriedly ripped off his shorts and underwear, sitting back on the couch and opening his arms for you. You moved to straddle his hips the same way as before, and he brought his arms around to embrace you as you shared another heated kiss. One of his hands moved up to cup your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple as if you were made of glass. Jared pulled his mouth off of yours and trailed his lips down the side of your face, to your jaw, and down onto your neck, suckling lightly and leaving wet kisses. You tilted your head to the side to give him better access, and brought one of your hands down between you two to grasp him. He shuddered, only grabbing your hips and bringing you impossibly closer. His other hand trailed down to your center once more, going straight to your core and gathering the slight wetness there before bringing his finger up to your clit and circling. With your underwear out of the way, you felt almost lightheaded at his touch. You never knew how girls could cum during sex before, because you never seemed to feel much at all unless it was pain, but with how aroused you were right now and Jared’s movements, you thought for the first time that you may actually be able to finish. People do say that 90% of sex is mental, and you guessed this is what they meant. The more into it you are, the more physical sensation you actually feel. Groundbreaking. 

“Can I finger you?” he murmured huskily into your neck. 

You tensed slightly at this, but trusted him. If you said stop, he would. “Ok, just go slow.”

“Of course,” he responded before placing a sweet kiss on your shoulder and bringing his index finger back to your core, swirling around the entrance a few times. You took a few deep breaths to relax your muscles, and he looked at you, wordlessly asking, Ready? You nodded, and he slipped his finger in, just to the first knuckle, and held it still while he brought his thumb to your clit and continued rubbing. When he noticed you visibly relax, he slipped his finger in further to the second knuckle, stopping for a few seconds, and then all the way. He kept it here again, giving you time to adjust or tell him to stop, all the while keeping you stimulated with his thumb. It felt really good. Well, you didn’t exactly feel his finger at all, which was better than pain, and his thumb was making you crazy. Your breathing was labored at this point, eyebrows furrowed as you held onto his shoulders, nails digging in and sure to leave scratches. He pressed the finger inside of you onto your front wall suddenly, massaging the ridges firmly, and you let out a moan. Your first real moan ever. And damn did it get Jared excited. He continued this motion again and again, building in intensity and pressure slowly. When he felt how wet you had become, he pulled his finger back out to the first knuckle, and added his middle finger next to it, sliding them both back in slowly so as not to hurt you. Your eyes widened at the stretch, but it didn’t hurt. It felt amazing. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered to yourself, before moaning once more as his fingers began the ‘come-hither’ motion once more. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, concerned at your cursing. 

“No, feels so good,” you moaned, and he smiled at this, increasing the pressure even more. Your eyes screwed shut, hips stuttering over his hand, letting him finger fuck you for several more minutes as you began to feel a tightening in your stomach. He brought his thumb off of your clit finally, adjusting his hand for a better angle and bringing his other hand off of your waist and up to his mouth, licking his thumb and bringing that down to your clit, resuming the tight circles. You could hear how wet you were, feeling too good to be embarrassed. The heat in your stomach was building, spreading. You felt your legs begin to shake, muscles begin to tighten around his fingers, and your eyes screwed shut as you opened your mouth in a silent scream and came. The waves of pleasure washed over you for a long time, Jared slowing his movements down so as not to overstimulate you. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were panting, legs feeling like Jello. Jared was staring at you with a look of absolute awe on his face, mouth agape and dick rock hard, red, and leaking precum. He was more turned on than he had ever been from actual sex before, and it was only from watching you. 

“Fuck, baby that was so hot,” he all but moaned. 

You reached down to grasp him, panting a “your turn.” 

He grabbed both your wrists, stopping you. “Nuh uh, this is about you. Lie the fuck down.”

You gasped, his dominant tone turning you on despite your recent climax. You both knew that if you were even slightly uncomfortable, things would stop immediately. But it was fun for both of you to let him be a little aggressive. You did as told, lying long ways across the couch cushions, Jared moving to kneel between your legs, moving your knees softly apart so he could look at all of you. You didn’t feel insecure being exposed like this. You felt excited. 

“Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this?” he questioned. 

“I have never been more sure, Jared baby, I want to,” you pleaded. This was enough for him, so he brought his dick down to line up with your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down a few times to collect your wetness. He was worried that there wouldn’t be enough lubricant, so he brought a hand up to his mouth and spit, rubbing the saliva on his cock. 

“You just wait ‘til we get some real lube and a real fucking bed, Princess. You won’t be able to walk for days.” You shuddered at the thought of this, and of the sensation of his dick rubbing around your clit and back down to your entrance. He pushed in slightly, letting the tip in before pausing and checking your face for any signs of pain. When he found none, he pushed in slightly more, and more. He was being extremely slow, and you appreciated it. Guys normally would just shove themselves inside, not giving you any time to adjust before pounding away. But Jared was careful, despite how turned on you knew he was. He still had your best interest in mind. Within a couple of minutes, he was fully seated inside of you, staying still until you told him to move. He brought his face down to give you a sweet kiss, waiting for you to give him the signal. 

After a few seconds, you didn’t feel any sort of stinging or pain, so you nodded, saying “Just start slow.” 

“Of course,” he replied genuinely. He pulled his hips back just a few inches, before slowly grinding them back into yours. You closed your eyes, focusing on keeping your muscles loose and relaxed as he continues this movement a few more times. The next time he pushed in, he ground his hips further into yours, hitting the deepest parts of you. This had you release a gasp, eyes opening to meet his. “Okay?” he questioned. 

“Yes.” 

He did this several more times, letting you get used to the feeling of him being so deep inside of you, before your hips began to grind back into his. It felt really good. When he noticed this, he began pulling his hips back more, pushing back in slightly faster, and this had you moaning. You threw your head back, back arched, just enjoying the sensations. Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, definitely leaving scratch marks. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he responded, planting sloppy kisses to your neck and collar bone. “Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer.” 

You smiled at this, glad he was enjoying it as much as you were. “Go ahead, cum for me,” you spoke, and your words had him right on the edge. He pulled out of you quickly, hand fisting his cock as he stared at your sweaty, writhing body below him. He came hard, spilling onto your stomach as he growled out, the sound making your toes curl, almost animalistic. You both remained in this position as you came down, breaths labored and eyes barely open. He stood up fully off of the couch and reached for the flimsy blanket on the floor, using it to wipe off your stomach. He threw it into the corner of the room and lay down next to you on the couch, gathering you up into his arms to cuddle. 

“Did you have a good time?” he asked almost nervously after a few minutes. 

“Nah, kinda sucked,” you teased, and he let out a playful laugh, lightly shoving you away before pulling you back and planting a kiss on your temple. 

A pause. “For real though,” he prodded, beginning to panic slightly. 

You burst out laughing. “Of course I had a good time, Jared. Best i’ve ever had, if I’m being honest.” 

“Ok good,” he sighed, relieved but trying not to show that you actually had him nervous for a second. 

Another pause. “Did… did you have a good time?” you questioned back at him. 

He seemed almost offended at the question, bringing a hand up to cup your face so that your eyes met his. “Y/N, this was the best night of my entire life. That was perfect. You are perfect. And I’m glad you trusted me enough to do that with you.” 

You felt your eyes sting slightly, emotions running wild. You considered yourself the luckiest girl in the world to be with Jared Cameron. Not only was he totally gorgeous, but kind, hilarious, and great in bed. 

In an effort to switch the tone back to a more playful one, you replied, “Yeah, well I was promised some more fun involving real lube and a real bed so…” 

He tugged you further into him, wrapping his arms around you in a way that made you think he might never let go. He laughed, and said “Oh, you just wait.” 

#jared cameron x reader #jared cameron #twilight #wolf pack #paul lahote #sam uley #jacob black #embry call #seth clearwater #quil ateara #edward cullen #twilight smut #vaginismus

[neon-junkie]

How the Batch helps you with your cramps! (gender-neutral reader)

AN: This was written with period cramps specifically in mind, but it doesn’t mention periods at all. I understand that not everybody likes seeing that word, nor being reminded of it, so I’ve tried to keep these headcanons as ‘plain’ as possible. These can be read as platonic or romantic!

Hunter

As someone who's always happy to help, and deeply cares about you, Hunter is there for you before your cramps have already kicked in. Heightened senses and all that, you know?

He has a rough idea of how to help, but will appreciate any suggestions that you have.

Medicine is a must, and whilst you're taking it, Hunter prepares a hot water bottle for you.

He'll tuck you into bed, and if you ask, he'll stay. Hunter almost climbs straight into bed, but then remembers his armour, and makes quick work of removing it.

You don't need to ask for a cuddle, because Hunter's already wrapping his body around yours. His hands will roam as you curl against him, fingertips trailing over your skin, keeping his touches light and comforting.

"I've heard that stomach rubs can help. Do you... want one?" Hunter awkwardly asks.

Spooning is a great position for stomach rubs!

His hands will lightly rub your stomach as he chats with you about anything and everything, attempting to distract you from the pain, asking every so often how you're feeling.

You'll definitely fall asleep on him, Hunter is just so comforting! He stays in bed with you, eventually drifting off after planting a gentle kiss on your temple, smiling to himself when you sleepily smile at his small gesture.

Wrecker

This man was built to give out love and affection, and maybe punch through walls, but mostly to care for others.

So, the second he sees you in pain, he heads straight over to help.

Wrecker makes it his personal mission to help you out however he can, but he's not exactly sure how to...

He puts on his thinking face for a few seconds, and then decides to ask Tech for some medical advice. Tech hands him medicine, along with instructions on how to care for "a generally ill person, as I've never researched into cramps before."

Following Tech's advice, Wrecker urges you to take the medicine, and then begins caring for you to the best of his abilities.

He'll make you a pillow fort, or some form of den, depending if you're on the Marauder, in the Barracks, and so on. He only has so many pillows and blankets to work with, but it's cosy enough, with a holopad inside, waiting to play some of your favourite holoshows.

If you want, he'll let you curl up in his lap, or sprawl across his chest. "Whatever makes you the most comfortable!" he'll say with a nod.

Wrecker has his own secret stash of snacks, and he happily shares them with you, feeding you himself because "you need to rest," and for some reason, that means you're not allowed to move your arms.

Naps are one of Wreckers favourite past times, and he encourages you to have one after a few episodes of your holoshow. You're free to sleep wherever you like, and Wrecker is the perfect cuddling partner!

Tech

Tech doesn't notice that you're in pain at first, until you let out a heavy groan. He then finally catches on to how you're feeling.

"Unfortunately, I have never researched the pain that you're currently feeling, so you'll have to guide me on what I can do to help."

After listing to your demands, Tech decides that the first thing you need is some medicine. He orders you to get comfortable in bed whilst he finds something that will help, and he appears moments later with medicine and a hot drink.

Tech is tapping away at his holopad whilst you take your medicine, soon to put it down as he states that he's quickly researched a few things that can help.

He disappears, and reappears a few minutes later with a hot water bottle. Tech remains sat on the edge of your bed as you snuggle down into it, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

If you ask him to join you, then he'll look slightly shocked, but accepts and begins the lengthy process of peeling off his armour. The goggles, however, always stay on!

"My... research also indicates that c-cuddling and stomach rubs may help. Would you like them?" Tech awkwardly asks whilst lying back beside you.

Tech is understandably tense at first, but once his hand begins gently rubbing your stomach, and the other massages your scalp, then he begins to relax.

He'll talk about anything and everything; the deeper the conversation, the better. This is his attempt of distracting you from the pain, and for some reason, him telling you all about ion cannons really does help.

Tech's so deep in his rambling that he doesn't realize you've dozed off, cuddled up to him. He smiles to himself whilst peeling off his goggles, and finally enjoys a well-deserved nap.

Echo

Echo isn't too sure on what he should do. He's never been in a situation like this before, and he didn't exactly get trained on how to handle cramps whilst on Kamino.

He's going in blind, but he's also going to do everything in his power to help.

"Whenever I'm unwell, I take some medicine, grab some snacks, and put on a few of my favourite holoshows. Do you... want to do that?"

The second you nod in agreement, Echo begins walking off, making it his mission to retrieve medicine. He suddenly stops in his tracks, turns to you, and orders you to get into bed and wait for his return.

Echo doesn't take long, but his arms are full of things that he think will help: a wide array of snacks (that thankfully aren't ration bars,) some drinks, medicine, and a stack of DVD's.

He instructs you to take your medicine whilst he sets everything up. Echo puts a holoshow on, goes through the snacks that he's brought for you, fluffs up your pillows, tucks you into bed, and so on.

He's about to leave you to it until you ask him to stay, to which he freezes up whilst questioning, "you... want me to stay?"

With your permission, Echo snuggles down into bed with you. If you want to cuddle, then he'll hold you tenderly, ensuring that you're on his left side so his prosthetic doesn't accidentally jab you.

Echo's rather tense. He wanted to help out however he could, but he didn't think that you'd want him to stay! Give him some reassurance, and he'll be back to his usual self.

However, don't be surprised if he falls asleep on you. That poor man doesn't get much rest, nor does he ever get to relax in an actual bed. He's at peace, and you're so warm and comfortable, he can't help dozing off!

Crosshair

The first words that Crosshair asks are, "what can I do to help?"

He knows that some people have a set routine, or specific things that help ease them, so Crosshair wants to know what yours are.

He'll ensure that you're somewhere comfortable and quiet, and if you're stuck on the Marauder, then he'll shoo everyone into the cockpit, shut the door, and begin padding out one of the racks to use as a bunk.

Crosshair will order you to get cosy whilst he finds something to help; medicine, food, tea, whatever. Your comfort is currently his top priority, and it's a sniper habit of his to ensure that he reaches his target, which is easing your pain.

"Drink," is all Crosshair says as he hands you a hot drink and medicine. He stands there with his hands on his hips until you've taken it, studying your body language to see if the medicine has already begun taking effect.

If you ask, Crosshair will happily join you on the bunk. He'll strip himself of his armour, knowing how uncomfortable it is to cuddle, and lounge about with you.

Crosshair isn't much of a talker, but suddenly he wants to talk about anything and everything. He's doing whatever he can to distract you from the pain, and with him, the conversation usually ends up as a bitching session.

Now is the time to let off some steam; rant about anything and everything that's bothering you. Crosshair is going to encourage it, nodding and chuckling along, adding his thoughts and comments.

Before you know it, the pain has passed. Crosshair will shrug and say, "I don't want to get up. Pretend your pain is back."

You two will spend as long as you'd like cuddling and gossiping, maybe sharing some snacks, ignoring everyone who walks past to use the refresher.

#swwriting #tbbwriting #star wars #the bad batch #fluff #comfort #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #periods tw #reader insert #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb crosshair

[liz-allyn]

shudder; part 6/6 [agent mobius x reader]

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 4.4k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: smut, language, soft daddy kink, sex in otherwise unsanitary conditions, writer's horribly pathetic attempt at dirty talk

A/N: Here it is guys. I struggled with this chapter a lot, also mad respect for gn!writers. I don't think I succeeded in keeping it neutral (welcoming feedback on how I can improve) so I removed that tag.

You watched a small fire crackle in the darkness of an elevator shaft, being used as a chimney. Rain spilled down the walls, running over old steel and concrete, but at least you were no longer in it.

Once you had had the strength to move off the beach, you found a footpath scaling up the face of the cliff which led to an abandoned mining post.

The population of Olympus-V had steady decline for decades, either by migration, poverty, or famine. The planet had been practically barren for years, save for some mining operations to squeeze the last of the planet’s natural resources.

It was in one of those posts where you were now taking refuge with Mobius. You sat on the ground near the elevator shaft, your clothes still soaked, while Mobius fiddled around with building a fire. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

“You know how many centuries it took early man on Earth to figure out fire?” Mobius mused as he tended to the flames. “I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but other civilizations had it down in like a few decades, max.”

You rolled your eyes miserably. “I got him killed, you know,” you replied, not having the energy to follow Mobius into another one of his “fun-facts-about-history” rabbit holes. You’d been quiet for a while, with Mobius having to hold both ends of the conversation. The grim tone in your voice gave him pause.

“The new guy,” you clarified, your tone flat as you spoke of your deceased partner. The last time you and Mobius had spoken, he had sang his praises. “It was only our fourth mission together and he’s dead. Because of me.”

Mobius sighed and turned away from you, “That’s one interpretation.” He dropped another piece of coal into the flame and came to a stand. “Or,” he added, “you could say he was a great analyst who made rational, competent choices and was working with the best data he had. The fact that he trusted you doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.”

He idly wiped his hands on his pants, carrying on and providing no harbor for your self-pity, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“No. You wouldn’t.” Your tone was icy. “Because you weren’t there.” You glared at him from across the smallish room you were huddled in, bitterness souring your voice. “You sent me away, remember?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his head slightly. “I had no other choice,” he parroted the same old response.

That wasn’t an answer that satisfied you. At all.

“Why?” you bit back with a mocking tone, coming to a quick stand. You pulled no punches. “Because the TVA told you to? Because if the Time Lords—”

“—Time Keepers—”

“—Time Fascists,” you hissed, “think that I have a crush on you, they'll zap me out of my useless existence?”

He glanced over at you, smirking with his head tilted slightly. He replied with a voice as sweet as caramel, “Are you saying you have a crush on me?”

Your shoulders dropped. “You’re insufferable.” You turned away, wishing you could find a different mine.

“Hey, considering my recent valiant and heroic efforts to rescue you,” he replied, “you’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” You let out an exhausted sigh, but he kept going - cool as a cucumber. “I thought we had a thing going there. I mean - first, you kiss me—”

You spun on your heel. “Kiss you!?” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “On the beach.”

“I was resuscitating you!” you argued. “You call that a kiss?”

He shrugged innocently, a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he responded matter-of-factly. “But, uh, yeah - it was a little underwhelming.”

He grinned slyly. You wanted to simultaneously melt into him and burn him alive. You scoffed, shaking your head incredulously.

“What was the point?” you exclaimed. “What’s the point of rescuing me if I’m nothing but a - a tool? A blunt hammer for the TVA to snuff out anyone that steps out of line?”

The pain in your voice was unmistakable, and Mobius dropped his playful banter.

“You think I’ve enjoyed spending the last - however long it's been - hopping around the timeline hunting people who are no different than me?” Your heart ached with every word, “You think I enjoy killing?”

“No,” he answered, weighed with guilt, “I don’t.”

Your rage flared. “Then why won’t you just let me go!?”

“I can’t,” he quietly explained, eyes cast down. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Fuck this infuriatingly charming, cowardly little TVA sheep-whore.

You felt the venom pooling on your tongue. “God! You’re such a company man, aren’t y—”

“I can’t!” he raised his voice in a way that you’d never heard before, stunning you into silence. He lifted his gaze and looked at you solemnly, his expression filled with regret. His words were weak, broken - barely above a whisper. “...Let you go.”

You stared blankly at him, reading the tragedy written on his features. With his defenses down, you could clearly see every word: I don’t want to let you go. I need you, forever. You are mine and I am yours and nothing else makes sense beyond that. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

Were those his thoughts, or yours? You didn’t know anymore.

Mobius reached up quickly and loosened his tie, before deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You were staring like a deer in the headlights. “Wha-Wai-what are you doing?” you blurted uncomfortably with a furrowed brow.

He rolled his eyes. “Not catching hypothermia, if that’s alright with you,” he snarkily said as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing a soaked white undershirt beneath. You remembered that you both were freezing and wet. “I’m drying my clothes by the fire. We still have 10 hours and 23 minutes until we hit the radiation peak.”

Ah yes, you had almost forgotten.

Ten hours until the end of the world, or at least of Olympus-V. And because Mobius’ TempPad was unbelievably conveniently out of juice, and unable to open another Time Door, you were pretty sure you had about the same amount of time left to exist.

Mobius confidently felt otherwise. He rattled on some jargon about needing a massive source of energy to power the TempPad - something about electromagnetic waves, solar bursts, radiation of a dying star, the “sweet spot” between a steady charge and a gruesome death. You honestly stopped listening back at the beach.

You were too busy questioning his motives and your own. Were you happy that Mobius was trapped with you, about to be swallowed by the sun? Or were you furious that he idiotically ran right into an apocalypse and now you both were going to die.

He quipped that at least that technically made him a hero; maybe he’d get a plaque in the TVA cafeteria. You would’ve made some kind of cheeky comeback, but you were already dying inside at that devastating thought.

“Not to be too forward, but you should probably do the same,” Mobius added, bringing you back to the present situation where he was undressing in front of you. “You’re shaking like a chihuahua right now.”

You were about to question the puzzling thought of him being in a place in time to observe a chihuahua, but then he pulled his wet t-shirt over his head. You turned your gaze away reflexively as soon as you spotted human flesh.

Here you were - former soldier, mercenary, and spy, and fearsome hunter of the Time Variance Authority - blushing like a shrinking violet. It’s not that he didn’t have a point, it was just--fuck, he’s undoing his belt— is this real life right now?

“Don’t worry,” he scoffed flippantly. “I’ll even turn my back to preserve your innocence and sanctity.”

He was being facetious but it made you wonder if he had any idea how un-sanctified you were. Your eyes widened at the thought: Did he watch that on the highlight reel too?

Now he was pulling his slacks off, and you were tracking in real time again. He kept his promise and had his back to you, allowing you the privacy to undress. And you did.

You peaked over your shoulder to see him lay his clothes out in front of the flames. He dragged over an old canvas tarp he’d found - pieces of which he’d stripped off for kindling - and moved it to a safe proximity from the fire. He sat down in the middle of the tarp, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around him.

And he kept his underwear on - boxer briefs, you’d called it - not that you were trying to look below his waist or anything.

Once he was at rest, he rubbed his hands over his bare arms to create friction. You mirrored his steps one-by-one, until you were also sitting in your underwear on the canvas with your bare backs inches apart.

You both were quiet for a long time, facing opposite directions, surrounded by the cold darkness, and the sound of trickling water. You could still hear the waves thrashing and the rain bartering on the rocks outside. The crackle of the fire - the way the flame danced and dimly lit your surroundings, brought you a sense of peace. It was almost... romantic. Even if it was the end of the world.

“I know this is my fault,” Mobius declared, breaking the silence. You could hear struggle in his voice. “I know I was supposed to stay within my lane. My purpose is to preserve and protect the timeline, and that’s it, it’s just....” He sighed, and you listened carefully, hanging on his words. Was this doubt?

It sounded like he was trying to understand himself. “Something’s different now,” he explained, with a little bit of wonder and fear. “When we’re together, I feel… like I’m someone else. And I’m not who I was before. Before you.”

You quietly listened, thinking about how much you identified with what he was saying.

“My head is telling me it’s all wrong,” he said, “that I’m making a mistake. That I’m playing with fire.” His next thoughts brought the tiniest grin to his otherwise grim voice. “When I’m with you… I feel like a dope… Reckless.” The smile faded as his thoughts sobered him. “Dangerous.”

In the silence that followed, you wondered again whose thoughts you were hearing - his or yours.

“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” he mused openly - for you, the Time Keepers, and all the Sacred Timeline - to hear.

The question that hung heavy in the air had such a clear answer, of which you were certain. Your mind raced trying to think of how to respond, how to explain. You simply couldn’t find the words.

So you turned your body towards him. You reached over Mobius’ shoulder gently to cup the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was slow and chaste, projecting every intention and emotion that you lacked the words to describe. Each time you moved your lips, you took another breath; you wrote another line of your love letter to him. He sank deeper into your kiss, as your souls tangled and caught fire.

And then you felt it.

You were positioned behind him, with his back to your chest when a burst of lightning crawled up his spine. A desperate shudder racked his body. He pulled away from you breathlessly, his eyes closed, as you both panted and glowed with the heat of the moment.

“If I didn’t know any better,” your lips curled into a sultry smile, “I’d say I was making you nervous.”

He opened his dark bronze eyes at that, drinking you in. He couldn’t help but mirror your mischievous smirk. In an instant, he snatched you up and pulled you onto his lap. You kissed him hungrily, straddling him, as his hands glided over your body.

Your mind went foggy, as any composure you had in the situation was evaporating. His lustful kisses scorched your skin as they traveled down your neck. He lifted you higher so that he could drink more of you in. You gasped and sighed at how your body reacted to him, your fingers digging into his scalp. He groaned with pleasure as he found your open mouth again, your tongue a welcoming partner.

He pulled you in tighter, your hips grinding further into him. You felt his want, hard against your body, and you felt the last of your innocence pooling between your legs. The friction made you let out an un-sanctified moan, breaking away from his kiss. The sound of your voice intoxicated him.

You were in a controlled descent backwards as he lowered you to your back.

When did you start trembling? Has it really been that long since your last time?

Your hands danced across his chest, triggering goosebumps. Even his skin wanted you. You writhed beneath him as he positioned himself between your legs. You were bursting like a firecracker with anxious need. Your hands groped him, nails gently grazing - traveling down his torso and beneath the waistband of his boxers.

He gasped as your fingers wrapped around his organ, fluttering his eyes shut at your touch. You were on autopilot, your physical need in command of your body, as you attempted to pull his stiff erection from his boxers.

Mobius snatched your hands and you froze. He pulled your arms up, grasping your hands tightly, and pinned your wrists to the floor on either side of your head. You were hit with a wave of confusion, followed by shame.

Maybe you’d read this wrong. You looked up at him, half-expecting to read an expression of disgust.

What you found was the opposite.

His eyes— gentle, dark, and focused intently on you— telegraphed a message for you to read carefully:

You were not the one in control here.

You felt the wind of butterflies deep in your core as you realized he had clear goals for you in mind. He was asking you - imploring you - for command of your body. For the record, he already had it - whether or not either of you were conscious of it.

You lay still, save for your chest’s gentle movements, as his eyes unravelled the layers of your being. Trapped in his gaze, you were stripped bare in more than just flesh.

You were time travelling again - years into the past. The pages of your chapters fell away, until you felt like a pupil again, watching your master navigating the geography of your body.

His grip softened, giving your palms an affectionate squeeze before he released your hands. His leering gaze was already gliding down your valleys, and his hands followed, letting his fingertips brush the delicate flesh of your forearms as they travelled.

All your mind could do to focus was count your every breath as his touch and kisses grazed your skin. You wondered how long it had been for him. You quivered at the thought of him planning this moment.

He took time tasting you with each kiss - down your chest, your belly, the crest of your hips. You lifted your core with his encouragement, allowing him to pull away your last remaining piece of clothing. You were finally unveiled before him. He sighed softly, mind buzzing, as he delicately spread your legs apart.

He moved so slowly with intention, relishing each moment. You were on the verge of losing it and he had yet to touch your most sensitive areas. He could feel your hips squirm with anticipation.

“I want you,” he pacified you, “more than anything.” He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh. “But I need to know that you want this too. Without a doubt in your mind.”

You were desperate by this point, way past “willing.” Regardless, he met your eyes, waiting patiently for your consent.

You were consumed with lust. “Please,” you stuttered in passionate exhilaration. You could barely recognize your own voice, “You can do anything you want to me.”

His face twitched into a sinful smirk. “I know.” There was that confidence again. “But that’s not what I asked.” He steadied his composure and fixed himself in your sights once again. You gazed at him with a more sobered expression, giving this moment the respect he wanted.

He watched your lips now that he had your attention. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good,” he seductively implored. “Tell me you want me to take you, here and now. I need to hear you say yes.”

The way he asked for your consent could’ve put you over the edge by itself.

“Yes,” you practically moaned under your breath. It was a sinful, thirsty plea. “God, yes, please. I want you to touch me.”

That ignited his fuse.

He lowered to his elbows, positioning his arms beneath your legs. His mouth was on you, leaving you aghast at the force. It was like he wanted more than just to please you - he relished in devouring you, like a frozen dessert on a hot summer day. You jolted and gasped, more from surprise than pain. He took note anyway, and steadied his animalistic pace.

It wasn’t long until your eyes were rolled in the back of your head. You were thunderstruck, arching your body and moaning with ecstasy.

The way his name sounded each time it sprang from your lips made him drunk. Every time you uttered it, you felt him tense and groan. It was a perpetual cycle. Your hips would reflexively buck from the intense pleasure and he would just hold on tighter. He forced your thighs apart as you encouraged him to unleash more rapture on your body.

This was not a particularly new position for you, but it was good. You weren’t sure where he got the experience, but he was really, really good.

And if “Sacred-you”— “NC-17-rated,” “parental-advisory-warning-labelled” badass-you—could just see yourself now: writhing on the floor while being laid out by an older man, one whom you’d rarely seen out of a brown suit and tie. You didn’t think this man knew how to fire a gun before, but you were practically mewling for him like a kitten.

And god, he really seemed to enjoy it.

You warned him that you couldn’t last much longer. You felt the tension building inside. You wanted desperately to satisfy him, to feel him inside of you, to have him enraptured with you. But unless he slowed down, you were going to lose it right here with his mouth on you. You knew he had needs, and you began to plead with him to let you fulfill them.

You pushed down on his shoulders, begging him to let you have a turn. He pulled away, pausing only briefly.

“Uh uh,” he chastised you with a wicked grin. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He was back on you before you could reply, this time reaching two of his fingers into your core.

Your head dropped backwards at the sensation, and now you were obscenely begging him for more. You’d happily given up any attempt at controlling what happened next, focusing solely on the nuclear fission in your body.

You blossomed for him as his fingertips pulsed on the most sensitive flesh inside inside you. Muscles you didn’t even remember you had repeatedly contracted. He impurely hummed and he lapped greedily at the fruit of his labor.

You were gasping for air, beaded with sweat, as you came down from your high. He leaned over you to witness the sunset of your orgasm. Eyes full of lust, he pulled himself free of his boxers and discarded them as he watched you.

When you glanced down to see the stunning sight of his stimulation, it re-electrified you. You pulled yourself into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs straddled him eagerly as he lifted your hips over his member.

The erotic sound you both made as you slid down his shaft was sinful enough to cast you both into hell. You kissed him, open-mouthed, and tasted yourself on his tongue. Now that you were on top of him, wrapped around him, he seemed more frantic and less calculated with his movement.

He was gazing up at you like a lustful teenage boy, letting himself be taken by passion. “God...” he whispered, suddenly less skilled with words. “You feel so... ah!... s-so beautiful...”

“You’re so hard…stretching me so tight,” you groaned into his mouth, and he growled in agreement, nodding his head.

He broke away from the kiss, “God - yes, ah, you’re s-so tight, baby...” You grinned excitedly as you climbed and descended his length. You moaned like a porn star as you rode him.

“I can call you that, can’t I?” he said through his own breathless moans. You glanced at him in confusion. He looked concerned. His hands braced your hips as you continued your movement. “Is that okay?”

“Wha-what?”

“The pet name,“ he explained through sighs, “B-Baby? I-I don’t want it to sound de-demeaning, or... patronizing—”

Okay. Now he was overthinking it.

“It’s fine,” you urged him to move on, growing more frustrated, but now he was babbling nervously.

“I could call you something else—”

“—don’t care—”

“—’s’important to me that you know I respect you, and I’d never—”

“I don’t care, I—You can call me whatever you want. Please, daddy… Just— fuck me…”

You crashed your lips on his, but felt his breath hitch as he tensed you immediately. You either said something very right, or very wrong. The sex had all but come to a screeching halt, as you reluctantly met his eyes.

He gazed at you thoughtfully, gears turning.

Timidly, you searched his face for judgment, for any sign of disapproval, but instead, there was a look of almost— awe.

You watched the change in him as the devil overtook him. His eyes turned three shades darker, pooling with lust. His expression of wonder melted into a devious smile. Your dirty talk awakened something in him, like he was remembering a long-forgotten visceral part of himself.

He scooped you up and laid you on your back again, pulling himself out of your body. You only had a brief time to revolt, until he sat up on his knees and he lifted one of your thighs up, pulling your leg over his shoulder. You watched curiously trying to figure out what he was doing, until he gripped your hips and pulled you downward— over his shaft.

You let out a painfully delicious cry as he bottomed out inside of you. He hungrily watched your expressions and relished in the sound of your moans.

His hand braced the inside of your other thigh, holding your legs open so that you were spread at the right angle for him. As soon as he began to thrust, you were done for.

You groaned with ecstasy. “That’s... it..,” he praised you, eliciting more cries from you.

There were no more performances. There was no more pageantry. No more room for pretending to be anyone other than who you are.

You were coming undone for him, and he watched every moment. Every dirty thought and fantasy you ever had might as well have been written on your body. He studied each line.

“Oh god, Mobius—yes,” you babbled as you squirmed.

“Yeah?” he breathed, teasingly. “Does that feel good?” You nodded frantically.

Sweat beaded down his chest as his hands roamed to find your sweet spot, and another desperate wave of ‘yes’s flooded out from your lips.

“What did you call me?” he enticed, his mouth watering for your response. “What name did you call me before?” You were struggling with words, but he wouldn’t stop until he coaxed the right one from you.

“Say it.”

You tangled your fingers in your scalp, turning your head away. He thrust into your hips a little deeper, and you cried out obscenely.

“Say it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I wanna hear you say it again. I wanna watch you say it to me.”

More lewd noises dropped out of your mouth, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Yes, please, I love what’re… doing t’ me… I need it, daddy…”

He groaned with a lecherous smile, biting his lip. “You are so good for me.”

Lust was dripping from each word as he drew them out. His honeyed, Southern accent had returned. His eyes were blown black as he cooed with praise, “You make me wanna be so bad.”

You were gone after that. Your head tilted back, crying out through another climax. He could hear his own voice—that’s it that’s it—moaning in the distance somewhere, but he was enthralled with your little pleas. The tones of your voice washed over him; he used them to quell the blaze inside.

He knew everything he wanted to do to you, and everything you wanted him to do. And he couldn’t get past the feeling, as he buried himself deeper inside of you, that this was all... familiar.

This picture of you, spread out gloriously beneath him, was impossibly familiar. He imagined a bed that wasn’t his own, and light blue cotton sheets that couldn’t have been his, and the sunlight peeking from a sheer curtain, and falling across the ecstasy-filled face of his lover that he couldn’t have ever married...

That was....you.

Your voice was echoing in Mobius’ head. You whined and whimpered, glowing with passion, signaling that you were moments away from your climax. And then he was here - on Olympus-V with you, and he felt you tighten and flutter around him.

The sight of you, writhing beneath him as you reached orgasm, pulled a deep moan from his chest. White hot light flooded his vision. His body jerked and reacted in unison, filling you with his seed.

For someone for whom time had little meaning, he was now obsessed - trying to catch and hold back each fleeting moment. He leaned forward, his body spent, and you pulled his chin down into a longing kiss.

His mind was spinning. His lungs were still taking deep breaths. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as he struggled to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.

“I could never let you go,” he declared, deep in contemplation. You didn’t quite understand the connection in the present moment. You didn’t remember.

“Then stay with me,” was your gentle reply.

He gazed once again into your eyes with a knowing smile. “Always.”

A/N: And I'm leaving it there. For now. Please reblog with feedback, or send me a message on your thoughts. This is my first attempt at writing in a long, long time. Also it's my first attempt at smut so be nice with your feedback :-)

THANK YOU to all of you for your wonderful comments. Please reblog for support!

@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia @simsiddy @coloursforyourportrait

#mobius #agent mobius #my heart can’t handle it #mobius m. mobius #agent mobius x reader #mobius x you #agent mobius x you #mobius fanfiction #mobius m mobius x reader #Owen Wilson #owen wilson x reader #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #Lizzy writes. #lizzy writes!shudder. #mcu fanfiction #loki tv show #loki tv series #fuck ravonna #genre: pwp

[marvelatthetwilight]

Tell me your secret

Part one: The Secret

Part two: The Secret’s Out

Part three: Secrets and Lies

Part four: Sick of Secrets

Part five: The Last Secret

“Carlisle, you need to see this.” Edward calls out of the door.

Carlisle appears and glances between the three of you, his eyes settling on you, holding a blood bag in your hand, the others scattered on the floor, your face covered in blood.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” His eyes softening as he can sense some pain in you.

“I feel fine. Demetri however...” you trail off and look up at Demetri, who is still rubbing his hand.

“Carlisle, Y/N appears to have a power.” He walks towards you, holding out his hand. “Y/N do you think you could do it again?”

You focus on his hand and reach out your own towards him, but when they touch, nothing happens.

Edward and Demetri exchange looks, both frowning.

“I think she may need some motivation. Edward, I need you to attack me.” Demetri states, a smirk pulling at his lips, and you begin to panic. At what would be lightning speed if you were human, Edward moves towards Demetri, but you rush out of the bed towards him, faster than him in your newborn state. Before you know it your hand is on Edward’s arm and then he is on the floor.

“Fascinating.” Carlisle laughs as he claps your victory.

Edward huffs as he pulls himself up off the floor. “For you maybe. It’s not quite so fascinating when it happens to you.”

“It’s like Kate’s gift?” Carlisle asks, referring to one of their Denali cousins who can radiate electricity around her body, giving an electric shock with her touch.

“Not quite, but similar. It’s a much sharper feeling, like a bolt of lightning flashing through you.” Edward replies, having felt both gifts now first hand. The two of them then begin discussing your gift and how they can help you control it, as you wonder about this Kate, intrigued that they know someone who can possibly help you with this strange power.

Demetri appears by your side, pulling you toward him, taking in your scent. “Oh how I’ve missed you.” He whispers, and a small shiver runs down your spine. His voice and his scent are more intoxicating to you now, and the mere thought of Demetri standing this close to you warms your body.

“But I don’t smell like me anymore surely?” You ask, worried that just as your feelings have intensified, that Demetri’s will have faded now you are no longer human.

“You smell better.” He reassures you, and you frown. He turns you so you are facing him, and he cups your face with one hand. “We are mated, soul mates, yes?” You nod. “As a human, I was drawn to your scent as you are to mine, but also to your blood, which often made our...closeness more difficult. Now, I am still drawn to your scent, but I can your scent is like...an antidote, to anything and everything. Does that make sense my love?”

You reach up to hook your arms around his neck and give him a soft kiss on his lips. “It makes perfect sense. Also helps me understand what I’m feeling right now. Being this close to you, I feel so calm, my throat doesn’t burn as much.” Demetri smiles at this. “It’s our bond my darling, we will have that effect on each other.”

He pulls you into a hug and you rest your head on his chest, before looking over to where Edward and Carlisle are standing, the latter now on the phone.

“Thank you for your help Eleazar, we will see you soon.” Carlisle says as he hangs up the phone and turns to face you all.

“Eleazar and Kate are coming to see us, to help Y/N N work out her gift. I’m going to let Esme know, we will go and hunt before they arrive. Edward, Demetri, do you think you can help Y/N hunt, she will need all her strength to practise her power.” Carlisle asks as he turns to Edward, who nods.

“Hunt? You mean like animals?” A worried look as formed on your face as you realise what you need to do.

Demetri scrunches his face in disgust. “I believe so my love, but it is up to you. Whatever you wish to do, I will do too.”

You think carefully. Whilst the thought of human blood as you salivating at the mouth, the thought of killing someone makes your stomach tie up in knots. Animal blood sounds disgusting, but killing an animal versus killing a human sounds far more palatable.

“Demetri, let’s go hunt some animals” Demetri visibly grimaces at this, but quickly changes his expression to a smile and gestures for you to lead the way.

“I am so impressed with your hunting skills today my love.” Demetri states as you return through the Cullen front door. He puts an arm around your waist and gives you a quick squeeze.

“Mountain lions aren’t as fast as I thought they would be. I’m sorry you weren’t able to catch much Demetri, you must be starving.” You look up at him, a glint of teasing in your voice, waiting for him to take the bait. He laughs, knowing exactly what you are trying to achieve, but the competitor in him won’t let it go.

“I just don’t understand. I’m one of the best hunters in Volterra and THE best tracker in the world. How can I not hunt a deer.” He throws his arms to his side and his frustration is evident on his face.

“You could’ve shared my elk, there was plenty to spare.” You take his hand and smile sweetly.

“Hmmph. Yes well, I wanted something of my own.”

Your conversation is cut short by Carlisle.

“Eleazar and Kate are nearly here, should we go outside to practise?” He motions for you to follow him back out the front door.

“Carlisle dear friend, it’s nice to see you when your life is not in imminent danger.” Eleazar greets his friend with open arms and they laugh together.

“Eleazar, Kate, it’s so wonderful to see you both again. Thank you for coming to help Y/N. Y/N...” Carlisle holds his arm out to you and you make your way to his side, suddenly anxious.

“Y/N this is Eleazar and Kate, both dear friends to our coven, cousins if you will from Denali.” You smile at the dark haired man you now know to be Eleazar, you vaguely recognise him from the meeting with the Volturi, although there were so many visitors in those weeks that the faces became blurry. However, Kate you remember. You remember the pain on her face at seeing her sister destroyed, her screams of pain and anguish etched in your mind.

“It’s so nice to meet you both.” You nod at both of them, and Eleazar holds out a hand in greeting. You offer him your hand and he clasps it with both his hands, looking deeply into your eyes. “You are very powerful Y/N, I can feel the energy running through your hands.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Oh” is the only sound you can form.

“What do you mean by very powerful?” Demetri asks.

“Allow Kate to demonstrate.” Eleazar gestures for Kate to step forward, and she holds her hand out to Demetri. He hesitantly reaches out to touch her hand.

“Arghhh” he screams and falls to the floor.

A growl slips through your lips and suddenly a crackling noise leaves your fingers, then Kate is also on the floor groaning.

“Did you know that was going to happen?” Kate growls at Eleazar.

“I had my suspicions. Like I said VERY powerful.”

“What happened?” You ask them both.

“Y/N, Kate’s power is limited to someone touching her. It started in her hands, and then she worked hard to have it be her whole body if needed.” Eleazar explains.

You nod, now remembering the meeting with the Volturi and how Kate’s power affected Garrett when he tried to hold her back.

“However...” Eleazar continues, “your power is not limited to touch. You are able to inflict this from a distance. As demonstrated by that.” He gestures to Kate who is massaging at her temples trying to dissipate the pain in her head before standing up.

“What we need to work on is being able to use this power without your mate being injured as an incentive.” Carlisle suggests, looking to Eleazar.

“I second that!” Demetri announces from beside you, laughing.

“Sorry” you apologise as you look up and him, he shakes his head and places a kiss to your head.

Eleazar nods. “I would also be interested to see what sort of distance her powers work from.”

You all put together a plan, the training beginning immediately. Demetri joins in, having trained hundreds of new guards in Volterra in basic fighting skills, and feeling anxious that your gift will make you a target.

Whilst you are practising your gift on Emmett with the help of Kate, Demetri pulls Carlisle to the side.

“We have to keep this from the Volturi. They CANNOT find out about her gift. Aro will stop at nothing to have her.” Demetri whispers.

Carlisle nods. “I know. I had the same thought. I have asked Alice to watch the Volturi carefully, so if they find out, we will know.”

After a week of training Emmett begins to grow tired of always losing to your power, deciding to go hunt with Rosalie and rest, so Jasper volunteers to help.

You’ve moved the training to a field, and begin with Jasper standing a few feet in front of you.

“Come and get me newborn”

Jasper winces in pain but doesn’t drop to the floor like you were expecting. You frown and try again, but he takes a few steps back.

“Try again Y/N” Eleazar prompts. “Think about what we said, visualise it.”

You take a deep but unnecessary breath and focus on your fingers, you imagine the power, your power sparking out of them towards Jasper. Then you focus on Jasper, his eyes hardened, goading you to attack him. He drops on the floor to his knees, wincing in pain, but not writhing in pain like he would if you touched him or if you had thought Demetri was in danger.

“I can’t do it.” You huff, arms dropping to your sides.

Demetri rushes to stand in front of you, he holds a hand on side of you holding onto your arms and gently shakes you. “You. Can. Do. Anything” he stares into your eyes, willing you to see yourself the way that he sees you. “I love you Y/N, I believe in you” then he kisses you quickly “show him what you can do” he whispers as he moves out of your way.

This time Jasper increases the distance even further, now standing a few hundred yards away.

You fix him with your glare, and again think of the power leaving your fingers, sparks reaching across the clearing to Jasper. I love you rings out in your head and you force your hands forward, willing your power to reach the distance. Almost immediately Jasper is on the floor, his body twitching from the electrical jolts circulating through his body. You bring your hands back and let them hang by your side, and after a couple of minutes Jasper slowly returns to a standing position, clearly exhausted.

“Wow” he mutters.

“She is pretty wow isn’t she?” Demetri smirks as he returns to your side. “Told you” he whispers.

On their last day Eleazar calls the whole Cullen house to the clearing for a final demonstration of what you have learnt.

“Jasper has given us some pretty high expectations considering the state he returned home in. If he could sleep I think he would have been comatose for days” Rosalie announces, giving you a small thumbs up of support.

“Who would like to be a volunteer?” Kate asks the crowd gathered before them.

“Why don’t we do a real test? Three of us?” Jasper suggests.

You visibly gulp at the idea, but Eleazar nods, clapping his hands together. “Excellent idea!”

You are forward and look out at the vampires standing a few hundred yards in front of you; Edward, Emmett and Jasper.

Closing your eyes to focus, your fingers dance in anticipation, small sparks flutter between them until you open your eyes, darting between the three figures. Taking one final, deep breath, you reach your hands forward. Emmett and Edward look cocky, neither of them expecting you to be able to target the three of them at once, Jasper looks anxious, the pain from your previous encounter coming back to him.

The three of them drop to their knees simultaneously, Jasper falling to his side twitching, Edward’s face twitching in pain before falling backwards, then Emmett, falling forward flat on his face.

The sound of cheering from behind you brings you out of your trance and you do a small bow before you are enveloped into a Demetri hug.

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispers in your ear before kissing you deeply.

The vampire group are so focused on their friend and her gift that they do not notice the stranger in the shadows. The stranger who recognised the figures before him. The missing Volturi tracker, the mind reader and the one who can see the future. Even better than all of those though, the newborn with the extraordinarily powerful gift.

Aro will love her. He thinks to himself before rushing away through the trees, his gift hiding him on his journey until he reaches the doors of Volterra.

“Tell me your secret” Aro demands, holding his hand out to the stranger who claims to bring valuable information.

He holds the stranger’s hand in his own and his eyes widen in glee as he sifts through his thoughts.

“Brothers, we are going on a trip”.

Taglist:

@volturidoll13 @fatiguing-thoughts @clearwater-hoe @teampaul @wallwriterstuff @like-rain-or-confetti @moviequeen51 @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @raindancer2004 @officialfictionalwreck @megzdoodle @slasher-sweetie @evakipara @reclusive-chicken-nugget @icarusinstatic @holl2712 @fanfictionillustration

#demetri volturi #demetri imagine #demetri x reader #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight imagine

[marvel-and-mischief]

Purple Carnations

Part of my Floriography Series

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!Reader   Words: 1700 Warnings: eating meat, preparing dead rabbits for eating, nudity but not sexual, a swear word Synopsis: You come across an angry stranger bathing in the river

Purple Carnations: capriciousness

💐

The setting sun could be seen through the thin gaps between the trees, casting shadows throughout the woods you were standing in. Birds were settling into their nests with their chicks and dogs were howling in the distance as you trod silently over roots and tried to stay clear of crisp leaves and twigs that would alert anyone, or anything, to your presence.

You fingered the bow in your hand, clenching and unclenching your hand around the wood and feeling the weight in preparation of its use. The few arrows in the quiver on your back slid against each other when you moved too quickly, it reminded you that you needed to make more after tonight.

The only other sound you could hear was that of the river running along the edge of the woods. The water was calm and you ventured closer in the hope that an animal was taking a drink. It would be an easy catch, you’d be able to get back home before the sky turned dark and the wolves began to roam the area. Luck was rarely on your side but what you saw was more than unlucky, it was downright cruel.

A man was bathing in the shallow end of the river, back facing you and his bottom half, fortunately, concealed underneath the water. You were unable to take your eyes off the silver scars that lined his skin and tense muscles that flexed under his movements. And his hands, they were scarily large as they carded through black, wet hair, and it brought you out of your embarrassing state when you thought of this man noticing you spying on him and using those hands in punishment.

You felt yourself flush and in your haste to quickly disappear unnoticed your foot caught on a wayward tree branch, causing you to squeak in surprise and reach out to steady yourself against a large rock.

“Hey you!” came an angry shout from the river and you knew you had been caught. You spun back around to see the man facing you, his teeth clenched and face twisted into a furious scowl. “You think you can spy on me you -“

“Spy on you?” you scoffed in retaliation, suddenly feeling brave in the face of a man that could definitely beat you in a physical fight. You pulled an arrow out of your quiver and notched it into your bow but kept the weapon lowered, a precaution incase he came towards you. You had the high ground and a weapon that could reach him from afar and that gave you the confidence to answer back. “You must think very highly of yourself, Sir, if you think I was spying on you.”

“Then what were you doing?” He eyed his clothes that sat in a bundle a few feet from where you stood. You caught a shine of silver in amongst the fabrics and you knew immediately that he wasn’t worried about his dignity, he was keeping an eye on the weapons concealed at the bottom of the pile.

“I am looking for my supper,” you wiggled the bow in your hand and gave him a look that said ‘isn’t it obvious?’, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“Says who? You?” he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest as if he only just realised he was naked in front of you.

“Yes, says me,” you huffed in frustration.

The man grumbled something under his breath but didn’t move.

“I saw some deer on my route here, a mile that way,” the man pointed in the opposite direction to which you came, “I will be gone by the time you get back.”

Part of you felt bad for making such a fuss about this stranger being here, you didn’t own these woods after all, but the other part of you knew that you couldn’t trust strangers travelling through the path you frequently used and was so close to your home.

You paused a little too long and the mans patience was wearing thin.

“Or you can stay here and continue to watch me bathe,” he growled, and you heard the underlying threat in his words: when I am finished here, I will fight you.

“If I see you again I will not hesitate to let my arrow fly towards you.”

“My knife will be in your back before you get the chance.”

You rolled your eyes at his quip, not willing to argue that an arrow can fly quicker than a knife or that you knew you were closer to his weapons than he was, and left to find your supper.

-

You hear his frustrated grunts before you see him. You crept closer to see the man you had stumbled upon in the river just the day before, struggling to light a fire. The sparks he was trying to create weren’t enough to light the kindling he’d bundled together in front of him, and the more he became annoyed the more he was hitting his thumb rather than the flint in his hand.

You noticed the dead rabbits at his feet and subconsciously licked your lips. Maybe you could both help each other out this night.

“Do you need a fire?” Your question had him pulling his sword from his belt and pointing it in your direction which was, fortunately, far enough away that he couldn’t hurt you with it.

“I am beginning to think you are not just a pain in my ass but also a bad omen,” the man lowered his sword slowly once he recognised who you were.

“I think this is rather good luck actually,” you countered with a small smirk. You crossed your arms and leaned against a tree just as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead.

“What do you want?”

“You have food, I have fire, we should work together to not go hungry another night.”

“No luck with the deer?”

You shook your head sadly. This man hadn’t been lying, when you reached the area he had told you about there was plenty of evidence of the animals having been there, but there had also been proof of people, other hunters that had gotten there first.

The man seemed to be thinking seriously on your offer, looking forlornly at the piece of flint and metal in his hand. Another crash of thunder had him making up his mind.

“We have a deal,” the man picked up his belongings, along with the rabbits, and motioned for you to lead the way.

“It is only fair you share what you caught in my part of the woods,” you failed to hide the humor in your tone but it had the desired effect. The man huffed next to you.

“I do not see anywhere that states these are your woods,” he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. The rabbits in his hand swung into your leg annoyingly, and you were sure he was doing it on purpose.

“What is your name?” you asked just as your cottage was coming into sight over the hill.

“Pero.”

You told him your name and walked the rest of the way in silence.

-

Your cottage was small, only one room with a bed in the corner and a fire that took up most of one wall. Baskets scattered the floor holding everything you had foraged from the woods, mushrooms and berries, plants for medicines, vegetables from your garden.

You headed straight to the fireplace to get it started but kept one eye on your new acquaintance as you got to work.

Pero was studying your little cottage from where he awkwardly stood by your door. With your foot you pushed a stool in front of the fire.

“Sit, get comfortable, ready the rabbits for the fire.”

You thought by giving his something useful to do he would feel more comfortable, and it worked for a while. He skinned the animals and placed them on the metal spit you passed to him and then hooked them over the fire.

“Why does your husband not hunt for you?”

The question took you by surprise. It was obvious you were the only person who lived in this cottage, the bed only big enough for one, hunting for your own food, and bringing him back to your cottage was more than enough confirmation that you were not married.

“Because he does not exist,” you replied bluntly.

Pero reached out to turn the rabbits around but said no more.

“Why does your wife not keep you in check?”

Pero’s dark eyes glared at you.

“She does not exist.”

You pretended to nod thoughtfully, only to receive a huff of laughter from your usually moody friend.

“You are not from this land.”

A thoughtful look crossed Pero’s features as he turned his attention back to the fire.

“I have not belonged to any land for a long time.”

There was a sadness to his tone that you couldn’t help but pity. You hid it well, you didn’t think he would appreciate pity from a stranger.

“Why are you here?”

“Looking for work. You ask a lot of questions.”

“You are the first person I have spoken to in months.”

You found yourself opening up to Pero over supper. He listened in genuine interest as you showed him the many plants you had found in the woods, telling him what each of them did for different ailments. He told you about someone he once knew who could wield a bow better than anyone. You argued with him then, promising to demonstrate what a great shot you were the next time you went hunting. However it went unspoken whether Pero would be sticking around to see that.

You were nervous to go to sleep that evening. Pero was your only friend in a long while and you had a feeling he would be gone by morning. Pero mistook your nerves for his presence in your home, so he crossed the room in a couple of strides and handed you his dagger.

“So you feel safe with me here,” he explained and moved to make himself comfortable in front of the door, covered in a blanket you had given to him.

Pero watched you lit up in the dying flames of the fire, a content smile on his lips as your breathing evened out and you fell asleep. He was undecided whether or not to leave before sunrise, but for now he would fall into the best nights sleep of his life.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @phoenixhalliwell @computeringturtle @anu-simps @bts17army

#Floriography Series #Pero #Pero Tovar #Tovar #Pero x Reader #Tovar x Reader #Pero Tovar x Reader #The Great Wall #Pedro Pascal

[apatheticanvas67482]

Even When You Hide

Happy @starrynightdeancas​ celebration day to @firefly124​! I got really busy over the last couple of weeks, so its not as good as I wanted it to be for you, but I hope you like it anyways. (also I had to abandon my sketches and normal art style today due to technical difficulties, so the art is a bit rubbish, sorry, if i get round to finishing the other one in my normal style when i get home to my computers, I will send it your way) BUT ANYWAYS I hope you love it (the fic not the art, hides) and I think Sophie is the dopest for putting this whole thing together.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss

Based: Somewhere after 10.03, when Crowley give Cas grace and Dean is cured of Demon-ness, and 10.18, when Cas gets his grace back. I did not mention the Mark of Cain though. 

Song: I See You - Missio

Word count: 2.2K

I see you when you're down And depressed, just a mess I see you when you cry When you're shy When you want to die I see you when you smile It takes a while At least you're here I see you

It had been 25 minutes since Dean had sent Cas to pick out the paint for his room. He put down all the sheets and lined the sockets and skirting boards with tape and was now sitting at the foot of the bed, tapping his foot to a silent beat.

Dean hadn’t known what to get the angel from the store so there were currently 12 pots of paint, all different colours, sitting on shelves in the garage. He chewed on the inside of his cheek absentmindedly, picturing the scrunch of Cas’ eyebrows and the tilt of Cas’ head as he scowled at the cans.

‘Dean. What does it matter if the room is winter blue or baby blue?’ Dean could almost hear him ask it - the gravel of Cas’ voice rumbled in the back of his mind. Dean shook his head, smiling, and headed to see what the hold-up was.

What he found was a mess.

“Fuck. Shit!” Pots of paint were scattered across the room. Most were broken open, stripes of paint led away from a large metal cabinet that had toppled over onto the Impala and cast the tins in all directions.

“Cas!”

Dean ran forward, holding his breath. The cabinet had smashed right through Baby’s windshield, fracture lines spanned what was left leaving chunks of glass suspended in the laminated frame. The bonnet had been completely crushed, practically folded in half, and the corners had torn into the paintwork. Dean would be seething except he couldn’t breathe. He threw his weight behind his shoulder, forcing it under the shelves and straining until black dots danced in his vision.

“Cas!” Dean collapsed, his efforts futile. “Cas! Where the hell are you?!”

And then he heard it – the quick and broken, but quiet sobs of an angel. Dean whirled around o fast his neck cracked and then he crawled, actually crawled on his hands and knees, towards the sound.

Behind the impala, Cas was perched on the balls of his feet with his trench coat pooling around him. Dean had never seen him cry before, not like this. There was a streak of paint that ran from just under his left eye to the corner of his mouth. Where his tear tracks converged with it, the drops turned blue and fell to the ground like grace. Dean watched, transfixed for a moment, before scrambling closer.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice louder than he meant it, startled Cas out of his fugue state. His hands, which had been moving, stilled instantly as he looked back at Dean with wide shiny eyes.

“I don’t want to go, Dean.” The cracks in Cas’ voice tugged at Dean’s soul. He didn’t understand.

Dean shook his head. “What?”

Cas’s eyes only grew larger as the hunter reached out, “Dean, please don’t make me go.” His arm hung in the air, terrified of doing the wrong thing. He knew Cas couldn’t fly anymore but it had never stopped feeling as though their conversations were timed, except Dean couldn’t see the numbers on the clock. He was always waiting for Cas to vanish. “I want to stay.”

Bile rose in the back of Dean’s throat and his hand dropped like dead weight between them as he realised what Cas was saying, what he was thinking. He thought back to months before. ‘You can’t stay.’ He’d said, the same bile rising in his throat as now. He looked at Cas in his human clothes, that goddamn hoodie., and watched as Cas’ heart broke. Watched as the hurt played openly on his features, defences down. And then, he’d looked away. Dean remembers looking anywhere but into his best friend’s eyes, knowing that if he did his resolve would surely crumble. Now, all he wanted was for Cas to look at him, but the angel had gone from a deer in the headlights to refusing to lift his head higher than his shoulders.

“I can fix it, I promise.” Cas’s hands started moving again. His fingers shook as he tried to slot several pieces of broken glass back together. Small cuts littered his palms, bleeding freely as Cas worked.

“Cas. Cas, why-” Dean swallowed around the lump of panic still tuck in his throat, “Why aren’t you healing? Is it the grace? Is it failing?” His hands had found there way between them again. They hovered uselessly over Cas’ own. Cas was shaking his head, but Dean wasn’t sure if it was in answer to his question.

“Cas?” Dean didn’t know what to do, until he did. Taking a shaky breath, he allowed his panic to consume him for one second more before he tabled it.

“Cas,” His voice was gentle but solid, “Cas, stop it. Please,” - Dean stilled Cas’ hands with his own. He turned them palm up and, careful not to catch any of the cuts, unfurled the angel’s trembling fingers with is thumb – “Just stop.”

Cas was still refusing to meet his eyes, but he’d stopped shaking his head. He stared down at the pieces of glass and Dean followed his gaze. He recognised them as the broken remains of a small glass statue of an angel. Sammy had presented the thing to a few years ago after he’d nabbed it from some rogue crossroad demon’s second-hand shop to bully Dean with. ‘A guardian angel to save me from your moping when Cas is away,’ Sam had said, and Dean had shoved it deep down inside Baby’s trunk. That was until they moved into the bunker and Dean had felt some strange compulsion to place the glass angel atop the recently toppled shelves. Cas had been there, tilting his head at him. ‘Present from Sam,’ He’d practically growled before running away.

“Hey,” One of Dean’s hands left Cas’ in favour of poking him gently in the cheek. Cas jerked backwards slightly, finally meeting Dean’s eyes. He was still crying but less so. Dean nodded, “I need you to listen to me. You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere. Ever. Again.” He waved his free hand at the mess around him. “All this, none of it matters,” Dean moved his other thumb in circles, steeling himself. This moment is what all his years watching chick flicks in secrecy had been preparing him for. “You, Cas, are what matters. To me.”

Dean held his breath for one, two, three seconds. Cas hiccoughed, blinking one, two, three times as the last of his tears fell from his cheeks.

“Why aren’t you healing?” Dean whispered into the space between them, a little afraid of anything louder.

“I didn’t want to waste m…” Cas looked lost, “It.” Dean waited.

“When Metatron took my grace from me, he left me human. Except I’m not human. Jimmy though, Jimmy was human, fragile. Without my powers, I’m,” Cas struggled with his words, he looked away. “I’m a baby in a trench coat.” Fuck. “I am nothing. And I can’t go back to that. I can’t keep steeling my kin’s grace from them, reducing them as I have been reduced. I can’t.” He dropped his head to his chest once more. “But I also don’t want to die.

“Castiel.” Dean swerved back into Cas’ eyeline as he spoke, “You are not nothing,” Cas stared at him, not believing.

“You are not human. You’re not Jimmy. But you’re not your grace either.” Dean was going to make him understand how wrong he’d been sitting in Eve’s diner. “You’re not your vessel and you’re not your powers. When I look at you-” The hunter swallowed, “When I look at you, I just see… you. I see you, Cas.”

He looked down at their hands, feeling dizzy. He couldn’t believe how mushy he was being or how much he didn’t mind. He felt like Colin Firth. “As for the rest of it, we’ll figure it out. We always do. The grace situation… Well,” Dean smiled, small. “We’ll make it up as we go.” Dean lifted Cas’s hands to his lips and pressed a kiss into a single cut. After a moment, grace began to shine beneath the skin and the wounds pulled themselves closed.  Beaming now, he leant back and ran his thumb over the soft new skin, turning their hands so their finger interlocked.

“Dean, I-”

“I made a mistake,” Dean interrupted, “I have made so many mistakes. But, kicking you out like has to be one of the worst. No explanation, no assistance, no nothing. It’s the wrongest I’ve ever been in my life. Gadreel gave me an ultimatum but that’s not an excuse. Doesn’t even come close to justifying what I did. I should’ve told you what was going on. Maybe if I had tried, for even a second, to communicate, we could have avoided a lot of pain. I should’ve – I should’ve done a lot. But I didn’t, and that wasn’t good enough.’

“Dean, it’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not.” Dean broke eye contact then.

“Okay, well” Cas squeezed his hands, “I forgive you then. How’s that?”

Dean huffed out half a laugh. His next words caught in throat as he looked back at Cas. He was so close to him. Dean supposed he always was. Dean’s eyes caught on Cas’ mouth where he had worried at his bottom lip. It was red and sore and wasn’t healing. Before Dean knew what he was doing, he was tipping forward, eye slipping shut. When they met in the middle, he barely felt it. He touched his lips to Cas’ like he had to his hands, his heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage. Dean didn’t realise he hadn’t been breathing until Cas’s lips moved against his own and he gasped for air. He leant against Cas’s forehead breathing far too heavily for such a chaste moment. They sat there just breathing in each other’s air for one, two, three seconds. Then Dean surged forwards, pushing of his feet so he was kneeling up over Cas. He dropped the angel’s hands in favour of holding his head in his own, pressing desperate kiss after desperate kiss to Cas’s mouth. Cas leant backwards under him as they kissed, moulding to fit the curve of his body. His dropped hands had twisted their way into Dean’s flannel, pulling him closer.

As Dean’s lungs screamed for breath, he pulled slowly away. Cas’ head dropped to rest against his sternum and Dean allowed himself to bury his face in his hair. His hands had settled at the base of Cas’ neck and began tracing nonsensical patterns into the skin there.

“C’mon,” He leant back and pulled Cas with him. Leading him by hand past the impala and a few scattered paint cans. He stopped by one - one of the only ones not broken open - and leant down to pick it up. ‘Dusty Cyan’. Perfect. He tucked it under his arm, and flashed Cas a smile.

I'm alone with you You're alone with me What a mess you've made of everything

I'm alone with you You're alone with me And I'm hoping that you will see yourself Like I see you

The next day found them huddled close together leaning over Baby as Dean taught Castiel how to hammer dents out metal without causing more damage and replace a windshield.

“D’you want to know something?” Dean cracked open his beer. Cas hummed from where he was bent over working a dent out of the open bonnet. He was wearing one of Dean’s ratty old Bon Jovi shirts, damp with sweat and motor oil and chewing on his lip distractedly – and distractingly. “Sammy got me that angel to tease me about you.”

Cas looked up then, “About me?”

“Yeah.” The hunter coughed, wondering what had possessed him to open his mouth and start yet another chick flick. Maybe he should be worried about how much of a sap he was becoming. It was Cas’ fault, obviously. “Cuz I always complain when you’re gone.”

Cas turned around and leant back on Baby, his shoulder brushed Dean’s. “You may want to begin coming up with some alternate topics of conversation.”

Dean laughed, “You think so?”

“I have been reliably informed that I’m not going anywhere.” Cas looked at him. “Ever. Again.”

Dean shoved his shoulder, smiling wide when Cas shoved back pressing him back into the Impala’s frame and leaning into his space.

“It’s why I put it up there in the first place instead of shoving in the back of some cupboard.” He poked Cas in the ribs. “Because it reminded me of you.”

“Me.” Cas echoed.

“You,” Dean smirked, “Dumbass.”

Cas growled and silenced him with a kiss for the ages. Dean let himself be taken over by the angel, surrendering the kiss to him and just basking in the feeling of Cas pressed up against him. He didn’t need some glass statue, he already had his guardian angel exactly where he wanted him, and he had proved to be far from fragile.

I see you in the dark At the dawn of something new I see you

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #hurt/comfort #cas is hurting #dean is there #i hope this wasn't too angsty and had enough comfort in there for you #fanfic #kat scribbles #literally in this case #userstarry #writing challenge #mentions of death #feelings of worthlessness #baby is also there haha #fuck #not literally in this case #first kiss #starrynightdeancas gift exchange

[the-lady-writes-what]

24. Enji Todoroki

          Theme: Monster hunter

          Kinks: Outdoor sex, rope play, voyeurism (if you squint), oral (giving), face fucking, cream pie, slight breeding kink (it’s Enji we’re talking about, come on)

Masterlist

This was supposed to come out on Saturday, but if you read a post I wrote earlier I’m visiting my boyfriend whom I haven’t seen a long while. This one and the next chapter is going to running late, but I plan on catching up with the rest so that everything else will be posted on schedule. 

With that being said, ENDEAVOR FUCKERS COME GET YOUR FOOD! 

EDIT: 04/26/2021 Idiots really be out here not paying attention to when a character starts giving somebody a blowjob and they start talking. Like you can’t talk with your mouth full. It’s me. I’m idiots.

You had to crane your neck to look at the man. He was taller—no. That wasn't right. He was taller than tall. He was enormous. When you left to answer the door to your cottage, you didn't know what or who you would be expecting. Certainly not this. Hair red as flames, eyes the sea's color after a storm, and a body completely encased in hard muscle. The stranger was clad in leather armor and a wool coat. He wore a grimace that would make babies weep. 

"C-Can I help you, sir?" 

"Enji, here! Let me through. I can address the situation better than you can!"

Another stranger brushed past the one standing in your doorway. He was blonde, shorter than his partner, and held himself differently than the other. 

"Hi, I'm Keigo, and this is my boss, Enji. We heard a rumor that you could help us," said the blonde stranger. 

"W-What can I help you with?" You stuttered. 

"You see, we were in the area—"

"We hunt monsters," said the enormous one, Enji.

Blood drained from your face. 'Monster hunters'? They hunted monsters—vampires, ghouls, werewolves, succubi and incubi, and, of course, witches. You slowly backed away from the door. 

"Relax, we're not here for you. There aren't any complaints or bounties out on you," said Keigo.

"There are only two kinds of witches, dead ones and the ones who haven't lost their humanity." Enji's eyes looked at you up and down. "And you don't appear to be the former."

"What my boss means to say is that you are the kind of witch who helps people. You don't summon ghosts or dig up graves of the recently deceased for their bones, do you?" 

You rapidly shook your head. "NO!" 

"We were recommended your services from someone in the local village. They said you were an expert in this particular matter," said Keigo. 

Without invitation, the pair of hunters crossed the threshold of your door. You ran to the kitchen to put a kettle on the fire. If your guests were going to barge in and make themselves comfortable, you were at least going to make yourself a cup of tea to calm your nerves. 

"Twenty miles from here," said Enji, "A trickster spirit has been causing havoc. Farm animals have gone missing and later found strewn on top of barns. Guts missing. Women are getting pregnant at the same time without any one of them committing adultery. Shrines and courthouses have had their doors blocked by piles of manure. They say it's a malevolent spirit brought along by a tradesman. They also say that your protection and banishing spells are the best in the area."

"Well, I don't know about that," you said. 

Your palms were getting clammy with sweat. You made three cups of tea and set an antique tray on the coffee table between you. You focused on pouring an even amount in each cup though you could not ignore the pair of eyes lingering on you. You could feel a pair of eyes on your every movement, but you couldn't tell which one was staring. You pushed two cups towards the men and settled yourself down in a cozy armchair, taking your tea with you. You expected the monster hunters to rudely throw your tea over their shoulders or inspect the drink and the cups and the saucers to boot. But they didn't. Keigo and Enji were perfectly comfortable and trusted you enough to drink without suspicion of you trying to kill them or turn them into animals. 

"Has anyone seen this creature, because I've never heard anything like it," you said. 

"Unfortunately, no," said Enji. He sipped his tea with the air of a gentleman. He certainly didn't look like one because of his size and his leathers, but he pretended to be one as he drank your tea. 

"The thing is, trickster spirits usually dismember cattle or get women pregnant, but rarely do both," you said. "So, you might be looking at one trickster and a hustler who's telling the women he knocks up to blame the creature."

"It can't be both?" Asked Keigo.

You shook your head again. "It's either one or the other. Disemboweling cattle and impregnating random mortal women are two different natures. I will eat my broomstick if I turn out to be wrong."

"How soon can you pack?" It was Enji this time. 

You furrowed your brows. You glanced over at Keigo, who seemed equally surprised. This hadn't been something they planned together. 

"Are you expecting me to go with you?" 

"We can't cast spells like you can, and you seem to be more knowledgeable about the subject than us."

"But I—" You started to protest only for Enji to stop you. 

"You'll be compensated for your troubles," said Enji.

He fixed you with a piercing look. You swallowed hard and sank into your chair.

"Can I finish my tea first?" You took a sip.

Enji gave you two hours to get things together. You made a pack that should last you a couple of weeks. You didn't know if Enji realized that you had no horse and would have to walk all the way with them. They probably had horses but weren't going to share. By the end of this, you were going to wring as much compensation out of them as you could. You secured all the windows, hid all your valuables in the floorboards, and locked the front door. You heard a pair of horses neighing at your gates and sighed to yourself. 

Enji and Keigo were getting ready to hop on. Enji grabbed your bag and handed it off to Keigo, who tied it with his saddlebag. To compensate for his large size, Enji's horse was a Clydesdale, a huge horse with a neatly trimmed mane. Enji held his hand out to you. Confused, you took it. His large hands held unto your waist, and he lifted you unto the saddle without effort. Like you weighed no more than a couple of grapes. Then, Enji sat down in the saddle with you. Your legs dangled off the side rather helplessly. You looked behind Enji's massive shoulder over at Keigo, who looked just as confused as you and shrugged his shoulders. Enji pulled he reigns of his horse and brought it to a trot. 

That night, the three of you sat around a fire. Enji stood up and said something about getting extra firewood. You waited until he was outside of earshot. 

"What the hell is the deal with your partner? Is he always like this?"

"He is the way that he is because of his past. He used to be a bureaucrat if you can believe it," said Keigo.

"I don't."

"It's the truth whether you believe me or not. Enji spent most of his life kissing ass and licking boots. He pushed his children away because of his politicking. Drove his wife insane. One day, he had to travel to the far east of the kingdom because his king wanted him to, despite his family's protests. Enji went anyway. When he came back, his wife was dead, and his children moved away. He turned to fighting monsters, the kind that killed his wife, to make up for the bullshit he'd done. His kids still don't talk to him, but he makes sure they're doing alright."

You stared at Keigo.

"You asked why he's like that, and I told you. Sorry if it's over-sharing," said Keigo. 

Enji returned with a bundle of wood. His back was turned towards you as he rekindled the bonfire. You remembered how his eyes looked at you. What did he see?

Dawn came sooner than you thought. You were on the road again, and by late afternoon you arrived at your destination. The village was smaller than yours and was warier of your abilities. You salted the roof of every building, including the ones that still had dried blood on them from the last time an animal carcass had been dumped. You placed a charm over every door, front and back. 

Then, all the hunters had to do was wait. 

You lurked behind a stack of barrels and crates as soon as the sun began to set. Enji and Keigo set up shop in the village square. The creature, whatever it was, had no room to go anywhere. With every door bolted and roof blessed with salt, it had nowhere to hide. Night descended slowly as if to give the creature more time to rest or find a new hiding spot. Lights flickered out in every window in the village square; all the others followed suit. You clutched a long knife in your hand. 

Out of a barn, it came bursting through wood and hay. It had a long body but very little muscle mass, like a snake with four legs and antlers like a deer driven through moss. Its hiss echoed through the echoed and made the rafters of buildings shudder. You were thrown to the ground by the power of its roar. You fumbled to your knees to get a good look at the creature who'd been terrorizing the poor villagers. At the beast ripped through the barn, salt scattered off the roof and landed on its serpentine body. The thing fell to the ground, twisting and writhing on its back while trying to shake off the salt. 

Keigo and Enji rushed over, weapons in hand. Swords glinted like silver fangs in the night's darkness. Though weak, the creature managed to roll unto his feet and charged at them. But Enji and Keigo were faster than that. 

Being smaller and younger, Keigo slid around to the creature's side and plunged his sword into its stomach. Or at least the approximate location of where its stomach was located. Its body was so long and thin, it was hard to tell which organs lay where. The monster was about to swerve and turn its jagged teeth on him when Enji's long claymore cut through its neck at the base of the skull. The village square was so quiet that you heard metal plunging deep into flesh and the snap of bone. You watched by moonlight Enji's foot crack open the skull and drive his sword deeper into its neck. The creature squealed like a pig at the slaughterhouse. It clawed and snapped its teeth, but there was no moving. Keigo pulled his sword out and pushed it back in. Eventually, the creature stopped moving.

The following morning, the sleepy village woke to the grotesque smell of demon flesh burning on a pyre. You helped Enji and Keigo erect it in a barren field and set it ablaze with a simple fire spell. Though they hated the smell, they were at least grateful to have the monster disposed of. Now, they just had to worry about one other problem. You looked around at the crowd that gathered to watch the fell beast burn. Although you couldn't tell how many were secretly still within the first month, several women looked pregnant. 

"Let me stay a while to find out who's getting these women pregnant. This isn't natural, you told Enji. 

"Very well," he said. "I'll have a talk with the mayor about letting us stay in his barn." 

"You don't have to stick around. Your job's done here, isn't it? They paid you, right?"

"Would you rather walk twenty miles back to your cottage?" Enji asked.

"N-no," you answered. 

"Then, we're staying."

That was that. You tried to coax Enji into leaving. You didn't need protection, and you were okay with walking home. Hell, you could have paid for a horse or even a donkey to ride back since he did give you one-third of the money earned from slaying the creature. Enji heard none of your protests, folded his arms across his massive chest, and looked sternly down at you. You felt dwarfed in his presence. His smoldering eyes were not suited for it, and he was insistent in ways you couldn't believe. Keigo said so himself one evening into your third night at the village.

"He's never been like this before. Are you sure you didn't cast a love spell on him, Miss Hocus Pocus?" Asked Keigo.

"No!" You said vehemently and tossed a balled-up dirty sock at him. "That is highly unethical, to say the least. I would never manipulate someone's emotions like that!"

"Find anything?"

You interviewed every woman who had gotten pregnant. They conceived at almost the exact time. That wouldn't usually be an issue if it was winter or a recent festival had taken place. Neither hadn't. They couldn't blame lousy weather for sequestering them with bored husbands or lovers. The fact that they got pregnant at almost the same time disturbed you the most. A couple had already terminated the pregnancies because of embarrassment, but you didn't blame them. Threw a small wrench in your investigation, though.

You let yourself out of the humble cottage where a woman told her story to you. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. Enji was waiting for you by the cottage's fence. 

"None of the stories match up. Now that they can't blame the monster, they came up with their own lies. Babies don't just magically appear out of nowhere. Someone is getting them pregnant. They're either protecting them or too embarrassed to admit who it is. It certainly isn't any of their husbands and lovers, that I can tell you."

You and Enji walked over to the only tavern in the area. It was the only well-built thing in the village, aside from the mayor's house and the town hall. A few men clapped Enji on the back in gratitude for saving their livestock, but they never noticed you. Both of you took a seat at the bar. Enji paid for your drink since nobody seemed to care that you lent a helping hand with the monster. Enji's drinks were on the house. The beer was a little stale, but not the worst you ever had. 

A couple swigs in and Enji started asking you questions. 

"Where did you learn your Craft?" 

"From my father," you answered. 

"Your father? I thought it was passed down maternally?

You slumped in your seat. "It is in some cases. My mother never showed up, and that left my father to raise me by himself. She left the day after she gave birth and never returned. My father is a good man and even better witch." You downed your mug of beer. "Have you ever killed a witch yourself, Enji?" You asked. 

Enji looked over at his mug. His eyes became steely and set in stone. They lingered on your neck before traveling up to your eyes.  

"Once, but I wouldn't call her a witch. She gave folks like you a bad name. She was an awful hag. Like to turn lost or kidnapped children into swine and sell them at marketplaces where they were taken to slaughterhouses. When she was bored, she disguised herself as a beautiful woman and danced naked around a bonfire. She lured men who would hear her. She slept with them to drain them of their virility. By the time I had gotten there, the village was in misery."

"What did you do to her?" You almost didn't want to know the answer, but there was small comfort in that Enji didn't compare you to an evil hag. 

Enji drained his mug in one go. He practically slammed it on the counter. All but two minutes passed before another appeared in his hand. Enji drank half of it before saying anything at all. 

"I lay in wait for her after I followed some kids into the woods. They were lured there by one of her magic spells. I kept the kids in a net so they wouldn't go into the house. She tried to kill me with a knife, cut my arms up, but she didn't stand a chance. She hadn't been prepared for a fully grown monster on her doorstep instead of three kids. I took a chain hanging off her rafters and strangled her. I cut out her heart, burned it, and. Then set the rest of the house on fire too. I dragged the kids back to their parents without too much trauma. As far as I'm aware, they haven't had any problems ever since."

You stared into your beer mug, which was about halfway empty by this point. You knocked it back and slammed it on the counter. Enji bought you another. About half an hour into your drinking, Enji left the seat next to yours to take a piss. You stared into your mug again when you felt someone pull up to the bar on the other side of you. He was young, handsome, and wore a broad smile. His sandy-blonde hair was pushed back away from his face in a way that reminded you of Keigo, but his eyes were the wrong color. Blue-colored crystals beamed at you. The color of his eyes was beautiful, but they left you unnerved. 

"You're seeing the monster hunter, Enji, right? You're his wife or something?"

"What? No, I'm not his anything. He asked me for help, and I agreed. I was pleasantly compensated. With money." You added sharply in case the young fool tried to twist your words. 

"I see," the stranger said. "I thought that someone as pretty as you wouldn't get involved with a man old enough to be your father." 

"I don't see how it's any concern of yours, fop," you sniped. 

The young man bit his lower lip. You thought you saw his hand disappear into his vest, but you had a couple of drinks in you and couldn't tell for certain. 

"Well, well, well. The little white witch has some spunk. Here, I thought you were just a mistress, tagging along because of the old man's jealousy. Now I see that you've got quite the fire in you." 

You wanted to gag. It would be a simple task to make him vomit in turn or make him stink of skunk for the rest of his life. Your father always taught you that curses should only be used when absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, being rude and horny didn't qualify as absolutely necessary.

"How bout you ditch the old man and come with me. I have some friends with some good stuff. The best wine you've ever had. What do you say?" The young man continued to pester. 

You had just opened your mouth when Enji's hand appeared out of nowhere. The man stood beside you and reached for your mug. He brought it to his lips and drained the last of your beer. 

"I think she's outgrown your company," Enji growled. "You should move along." 

The stranger reluctantly got out of his seat and walked away. He still wore a small on his face as he did so. 

"I think we should head out. I don't think we should meddle in the village's personal affairs. It'll sort itself out eventually," said Enji. 

"But—"

"It shouldn't concern you." 

You didn't want to leave, but some part of you realized that Enji was right. You had no clues, and none of the women were going to tell you the truth. You didn't live here, so why spend so much time and effort on people weren't really your concern? If they really needed you, they could come and pay for it. Still, you were a little reluctant to pack and leave the villagers and their unsolved mystery behind. You waited by the horses as Enji and Keigo finished some last-minute business with the mayor. What they could be discussing, you could hardly venture to say. When it came time for you all to climb on, Enji handed you over to Keigo instead of helping you unto his Clydesdale. The change was odd, but you didn't overthink it. 

A couple hours into the ride, you noticed Enji wiping his brow more than usual. It was a mild day and, for the most part, was covered by the trees from the sun. He didn't glance at you. At sunset, Enji took his horse and pack and traveled a bit further than you all. He set up his own camp where you and Keigo couldn't see him. 

"What's he doing? Wouldn't it be better to camp together? That can't be very safe," you said to Keigo. 

"He's…feeling a bit under the weather. Doesn't want to spread it to either of us." Keigo's answer would have satisfied anyone else.

"He was perfectly fine all day," you counted. "What could he have caught?"

You stood up and started in the direction where Enji disappeared. Keigo hopped in front of you a moment later. He spread his arms out as if that would be enough to deter you. 

"I can't let you do that, Y/N. He told me to keep you safe, so that's what I'm—"

You grabbed a handful of sleeping powder from the satchel hanging on your waist. You usually carried an assortment of these spell powders on you in case of emergencies. While your life wasn't in danger, Keigo was stubborn. You cradled the lavender powder in your hand and blew a puff of air into it. Your hand was aligned with his face to blow the powder into it. Keigo coughed and wheezed for a minute before his eyelids drew closed. Keigo was snoring face down in the dirt in less than two minutes. 

You trekked through the woods, snapping every twig along the way. Through the bushes, you spotted a smaller campfire and then a horse tether to an oak tree. Enji stood at the farthest end of his encampment. His back was turned towards you. You tip-toed quietly to avoid startling him. The closer you stepped, the more awkward the scene became. Enji's right arm was shaking with effort while his left hand braced against a tree. He was panting and grunting. But what shocked you was the way he said 'your' name. It didn't take very long for you to figure out what he was doing and why he camped away from you guys. 

"Fuck, Y/N." 

At first, you thought he noticed you creeping on him from behind. With an animalistic groan and a quiet splatter, you realized that he finished himself off with your name on his tongue. Enji leaned his forehead against the trunk. He moaned as if in pain. He looked down, swore, and started again.

You took a few steps closer. 

“Enji?" You called out. 

You were within arms' length of him when Enji turned around. His face was red as hair, but not nearly as red as the bulging head of his cock. You blushed immediately and swallowed hard at its size. Enji didn't move his hand, which fisted his cock, but he didn't remove his hand and hide.

"The man put something…in your drink this afternoon. I was coming back when I saw him pour a vial of pink potion in your mug."

You remembered the stranger and how he pressed and prodded. You thought you saw his hand dig into his vest. However, you'd been drinking and couldn't tell for sure. It dawned on you that Enji drank your laced beer before you made a terrible mistake. You shuddered, thinking about what could have happened had you drank it before Enji could get to it. 

"You're in pain…because of me. You saved me from getting drugged and raped by a stranger. That love potion…is causing this, just as it's caused all of those pregnancies in the village?" 

You watched the beads of sweat roll down Enji's face and neck. Enji nodded.

"You should go back. Keigo will protect you from me. I shouldn't be around you when I'm like this," said Enji. 

His eyes flickered to your chest, then he forced them back to your face; they trailed down your neck again. Enji snapped his eyes shut and started to turn around. You grabbed his right arm and sank to your knees.

"You let yourself be drugged to save me. You're in pain. I'm a healer, so," you took a deep breath, "let me help you."

Enji didn't give you a warning before shoving himself into your mouth. Your jaw was already open wide for him, but that didn't keep them from straining with the effort. He was thick as a horse cock, veiny, and reached the back of your throat. Enji held your head between his large hands as he snapped his hips into your mouth. You struggled to breathe through your nose while Enji thoroughly fucked your throat. 

He growled like an animal. The sound erupting from his throat almost drowned out the desperate whines coming from yours. You laved your tongue over him and sucked in your cheeks to help things move along. You clawed at his thighs then held unto his hips. They moved faster, snapping into your mouth without hesitation. Enji's vigor was nothing like you seen or felt before. His cock filled your mouth and stretched you open without even trying. 

"Brace yourself, Y/N. I'm about to come. Be a good girl and let me come down your throat," Enji growled. 

A second later, your face was thrust into his crotch. Your nose brushed against the forest of curly red hair. His balls felt hot against your chin. Last but not least, Enji's cock reached all the way back into your mouth. You could feel him bulging in your throat. Your jaws ached as your mouth swelled up with his cum. The substance leaked out of the corner of your mouth. Enji did not pull out until the rest dripped down the inside of your throat. You were the one to pant like a dog in heat when he finally pulled out. 

You gasped when your senses came back to you. Enij's chest was still heaving for breath, and sweat rolled down his exposed skin. His armor was ditched in a pile near his campfire. His gray shirt stuck to his skin where his sweat soaked through. Still protruding from his black trousers was his red cock. 

"Shit. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought," you said in all seriousness. 

"Wait here." 

Enji didn't bother to tuck himself in before walking to his pack. He pulled out a length of rope and carried it back. You tried not to stare at his member as it bobbed freely in his long strides back towards you. 

Enji threw the down at the base of the tree. His broad hands took you by the shoulders and pinned your back against it. Next, they went to work on your clothes. Enji snipped the corset laces at your end with a knife on his belt. His hands tore open your shift and skirt to make way for him. Once most of your skin was exposed to him, Enji grabbed your hands, pulled them above your head, and tied them with rope. To one end, you. At the other end, he looped around the nearest branch and fastened a knot there. Your feet could barely touch the ground when he finished. 

Your legs were quickly spread and hoisted over his hips. Enji lined himself up to your slit. The angry, blunt head spread open your cunt, lubricated by the juices freely flowing. Enji's hands cupped each of your ass cheeks and squeezed hard as he bottomed out. He felt so much more prominent in your throat than in your cunt, but that didn't feel less substantial. Enji's cock still was hard, thick, and ridged. Your walls fluttered around him. 

"You wet for me already?" Enji wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. 

He didn't give you a chance to reply before starting. Enji pulled out most of the way until just the tip remained. He pushed all the way in again, balls deep. Repeating the process, Enji thrust faster and harder. You arched your back though your body strained against him and the ropes keeping you off the ground. Your shoulders and arms were going to burn like hell tomorrow, but at the moment, it didn't fucking matter. 

Your breasts were smashed against his hard chest. The friction tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks. Enji lowered his face to kiss and bite your neck. Latching onto your shoulder did little to muffle the sound erupting from his throat. He was an animal in heat. Your legs bounced with every thrust of his deep inside your body. 

You tried to meet him thrust for thrust, pushing your hips against his. After a while, it was a vain effort. Despite your youth, you couldn't imagine keeping up with him. You quickly gave up and handed Enji the power. 

He didn't say much. There were no your cunt feels like it was made for my cock or you take it so well as a bitch in heat. Enji could have said those things and more. He was focused on completing as soon as possible so as not to further harm you. He grunted like a beast but made no effort to verbally degrade you. 

When your walls fluttered around him again and squeezed his cock, Enji followed suit. Ropes of cum warmed your lower belly. Then, and only then did Enji speak up.

"Is it wrong for wanting to imagine you fucking swollen with my baby inside you? You're so fucking full of my seed, aren't you, Y/N?"

You could barely nod. The thought shocked you for a moment, and you didn't know if you wanted it. Time would only tell.

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha smut #reader fic #kinktober #kinktober week #kinktober my hero academia edition #yes I write for Enji Todoroki #Enji #Enji Todoroki #Endeavor #Endeavor smut #Enji x reader #endeavor x reader #fantasy AU #monster hunter! Enji x witch! reader

[and-there-were-words]

A Spider Life: Slow days (Chapter 05)

I first wanted to write something out of the Spider Queen’s POV, but struggled to keep it within the narrative I am going for at the moment. I will write something for her after what’s show-canon though. A slow one with some more HCs, but I hope you still enjoy this chapter!

Also “Ask questions” had been enabled, I did not notice they weren’t before /o/

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Taking place some time before “Minor scale”.

After the last two, rather smooth successes of gathering the artifacts, things had turned… slow. With everyone doing their best to busy themselves, Syntax makes some (for him at least) interesting observations. (Wordcount: around 2150)

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With the mirror in their possession, the little lady had grown silent while working on the furnace. Aside from that whisper business of course, that had been a constant the last few days. And while nobody wanted to admit it out loud, it put everyone on the edge. Even the Queen.

However, nothing would stop Syntax from working on his spiderbots, even trying to improve the additional arms on his back. Not the easiest thing to do when you don’t have eyes on the back of your head, but making sure they just won’t snap in the heat of a moment felt rather crucial. The additional weight to this upgrade wasn’t exactly a worry to him at all, in the end he wasn’t one of the brawler types.

Something in the air changed, making him halt for a second.

“Yes Huntsman, how can I help you?”, he spoke without needing to look up. The other spider made a frustrated noise at being detected, he had been just mere inches away to give the scientist a poke. With an annoyed huff he turned around to stomp back to Goliath. Syntax would be lying to say if the other's frustration didn't plug on a string of satisfaction. This sort of interactions had been going on for a while now.

Leaning back, just to give his spine a proper stretch, the scientist couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud of himself. Just the progress he had made the last few days was satisfying, and not only the ones on his machines – but himself too. Huntsman had taken a sadistic joy in startling him whenever he could, and he was infuriatingly good at it. Though, Syntax started to pick up on the faint noises the hunter made when stepping on stone, the shuffling of clothes. Eventually he could catch him prior to a scare.

Which only goaded Huntsman to try even harder, becoming more and more silent and careful in his steps. Syntax had taken recordings to measure the changes of skill level (and for his own sanity) – by now, the hunting spider was so silent that even his gadgets could barely pick up the sounds anymore. Certainly a skill Huntsman had all along, but finally seemed to shake off the initial rust after his involuntary slumber. With the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to catch him on that anymore, the scientist tried to focus on other giveaways.

What had started as an obvious attempt on grilling his nerves, developed into a near playful banter. Just the wordless back and forth to get the other to try harder. In an odd way, it almost felt like Huntsman was training him, but he was careful to keep that thought to himself. Syntax knew better than to read too much into the hunter's actions, as chaotic as they were.

Nonetheless, the scientist found himself trying to imitate the hunter now and then. Since the guy was going on about smelling all kind of stuff, he gave it a try himself. At first not picking up much more than the damp air in the cave, the metal of the machines. It took him a while to find stronger differences, trying to casually walk past Goliath and the Queen. He found it rather surprising that they didn't seem to do much to hide their presence, but maybe it was simply the comfort of the cave that allowed them to do so.

Picking up on Huntsman was an entirely different beast. The man always seemingly on guard, always ready to appear and disappear. However with time, the scientist managed to actually pick up on Huntsman’s scent, as faint as it was. Kind of earthy, a little bit mildewed, and Syntax could swear there was the ever lingering hint of fresh blood. Did this guy ever wash that pelt of his?

Of course, he would never claim that his own sense of scent was as powerful as the hunter’s, but it was enough to know who was currently around the cave. The little lady didn't seem to have any telltales like these, which usually would've raised red flags in his mind but… he didn't question it, nobody else did either. Anything else he came in contact with, the scents of the surface… became a mixed blend of too much too quickly. Maybe a task for another time.

Aside from that, scent and hearing weren’t the only senses he had noticed an improvement in! Their lair seemed to have become much less dark, he wasn’t as dependable on his goggles as he used to be anymore. What before had looked like chunky and random bits of webbing, now unveiled themselves as carefully crafted pieces with intriguing patterns, with uses he was still starting to understand. Goliath did his best to explain them in more 'common' terms, and it was always a pleasant surprise to see how excited the large spider became to share his knowledge. The more time Syntax spent within the Silk Web Cave, the more beautiful this place became to him. A pride welling up that he lived here.

However their hideout wasn’t the only thing that was much more layered than he previously thought. Turning around in his seat, he watched the other two henchmen going about their day. Currently sticking their heads together over something he couldn't see from his position. Still, he watched them a little, while he was sorting further observations in his mind.

...to no one’s surprise, when he wasn’t within the lair, Huntsman was hunting. Or at least, somewhere outside doing who knows what for days on end. Yet always coming back with some good pieces of meat, roots and berries (but mainly meat). The first time Syntax saw the hunter preparing food for dinner, he nearly refused to partake in it. Mostly because he couldn’t imagine his meals to taste anything but bland, or worse, be poisoned. Color him surprised, that stew was better than most dishes the Queen would concoct on a daily basis. Another thought Syntax would take to his grave before speaking it out loud.

When Huntsman wasn’t around for dinner, and everyone else felt too lazy to scavenge for some proper food options, Goliath and he would order takeout. The strong spider clearly intrigued by this concept, always wanting to try something new. Syntax often questioned the sanity of the cityfolk, considering that the delivery people didn’t had much care to come down near a spider den. The food from the surface world had something comforting to the scientist, as cheap and artifical as it sometimes was. Though he was really craving noodle soup as of late and he wasn’t entirely sure why. Syntax let out a little sigh while standing up.

This whole food thing had also shown an interesting side on Goliath. While the Queen and Huntsman didn’t seem to particularly care about human food (the latter even openly showing his distaste for it), the strong spider had taken a deep fascination. Especially sweets and candies seemed to have struck his attention the most. More than once did Syntax catch him just trying some new trendy food or colorful jawbreaker that he got from… who knows where. Goliath didn’t make any of this a secret, however he clearly wasn’t one with a rotten sweet-tooth as he barely finished anything. “For science.”, he once said with a wink and didn’t elaborate any further. Okay then.

“What are you two doing?”, Syntax casually asked as he wandered closer to the two. The strong spider looked up in confusion for a second before giving the younger man a smirk, “Secrets”. The scientist blinked owlishly, circling around them to look over the smaller spider’s shoulder. There were parchments of leather, deer if Syntax would have to guess, with Huntsman trying to draw squares and circles. Large black smudges here and there told the story of many previous attempts, letting the edges of the material look almost black by now.

"Get away from me.", the kneeling spider hissed, Syntax complying with an annoyed eye roll. Looking back at the larger man in an unspoken question. "We want to make a new robe for the Queen.", the giant almost beamed with excitement. Only for the big smile to water down in mild disappointment, "Buddy ain't good at designing though."

"If you wouldn't be just so damn picky!", Huntsman shot back, smudging away his latest attempt. "Just let me do what I do best, I know what I am d-"

"No!", Syntax flinched a little in surprise. It wasn't exactly an usual thing for Goliath to argue, or to even interrupt someone. "I want this to be special and you just can't get the patterns right! For the Queen's sake, just follow a plan for once!"

The scientist had to raise a brow. This was the first time he ever saw the two of them actually butting heads and… he had to admit, it was a little bit refreshing. Letting his eyes wander to some other pieces of leather, recognizing the sketches as copies from the patterns all over the cave. This one was a sigil of warding, as he had learned the other day, and a few were the Queen's own emblem. In case some other spider demon decided to come here, they would immediately know who's domain they dared to enter. The rest of those, he had not gotten an explanation yet.

"If I may.", mechanical arms shoved Huntsman unceremoniously to the side. Crouching down to pick up one of the charcoal, he started to draw. He was no expert on how to draw people by any means, but it certainly resembled the queen more than any of Huntsman's attempts. With careful strokes, he designed a fairly simple cut, working in the patterns on how he would think would look good on the Queen. It didn't pass him that the other two were watching with bated breath.

Once done, the scientist sat back on his heels, giving his creation a proper look. Not too shabby, if he may say so himself.

"Oh this is really good, Syntax!", Goliath cheered, looking like he wanted to touch the sketch but didn't dare to. On the other end of the emotional spectrum, Huntsman almost looked like he was about to explode.

"The fuck is your problem.", the elder hissed in dreadful silence, whole body tense and twitching. "What do you think you are!", he now became louder but Syntax did his best to just give him a neutral expression and not to budge. Which may not have been the best idea, as it only agitated the other further. The hunter was now standing, looming over him. "You really think you can just come in here and do whatever?! Think you can just be part of this??"

Large and sharp spider legs lashed out, in reflex Syntax let out a startled cry and raised his arms in an attempt of protection. But the pain didn't come. They hadn't aimed at him, instead… having shred the parchment with the sketches to bits. "I REFUSE TO WEAVE THIS."

Like an angry lion, the hunter had bared his fangs in a snarl. For a moment, Syntax was still prepared to be hit by the other, but the hunter suddenly turned around and just. Left. Goliath looked torn between the two men, mouthing a silent "Sorry" before hurrying after his friend.

A breath he didn't know he was holding, escaped his lungs. Syntax crumbled a bit to the floor, bitter thoughts flooding in. Just when he thought things were doing okay. Of course he had to step right into a sensitive nerve for the older spider. Heavy clicking pulled him out of his thoughts, but he couldn't care at the moment to look presentable before the Queen.

Spider Queen looked between the tired scientist and shredded pieces of leather, no apparent expression showing. But of course there was a glint of recognition in her eyes. "Why y'all causing such a ruckus?" Syntax sighed silently, giving a brief summary of the recent events.

The silence that followed was uncomfortable, the scientist not entirely sure how his Queen would react. To his surprise, she let out a little tired sigh. "Weaving is something quite personal to us. Especially if we do it for someone else.", she explained without really looking back at him. Instead giving the destroyed sketches another glance. "Just pretend this never happened. He'll get over it." With that, she simply left.

Syntax pulled his lips into a frown. Just ignore this all? If Huntsman got over it or not, it did not matter. His fists clenched a little, looking at the floor, choking and holding back bitter tears he could feel burning in hte back of his eyes. Syntax was more upset that he apparently wasn't allowed to be an actual part of this clan, no matter how hard he tried.

#spider queen just ignoring problems? #more likely than you think #lego monkie kid #lmk syntax #lmk huntsman #lmk goliath #lmk spider queen