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a-case-of-attachment · 2 months

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The Lamb & The Serpent

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Lucifer Morningstar x sinner fem!reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Lucifer being a chaotic mess, mentions of sex, swearing, slow burn, mentions of depression, Charlie being the best supportive daughter, awkwardness, mentioned of death and violence, ducks of the rubber kind, Lucifer being awkward, fluff.

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Lucifer hadn’t intended to end up in another relationship, in fact he had been rather adamant that Lilith was it for him but it seemed like the powers that be had other ideas because it had placed you within his path and despite how much he hadn’t wanted to Lucifer had been unable to stop himself from falling completely head over heels for you in the end.

You were a sinner, just like almost everyone else down here except you were one of the rare ones, a good soul condemned to damnation simply because you had chosen to save a life by taking another’s when you yourself had only been hanging on to the living world by a thread. You didn’t deserve to be down here, but Lucifer didn’t make the rules so when the time had come, and your body had fallen still you had been dumped down here like all the other sinners. Left to rot until the next extermination rolled around.

Somehow you had managed to survive the savage and demented cesspool that was hell, making it six months in Pentagram City without giving in to the plethora of sin and temptation that it had to offer. Again, a rarity especially considering how obvious it was that you weren’t like the others. It was impressive that you had managed to survive for so long before you had stumbled across Charlie and Vaggie out on an errand for the hotel. Charlie had been her normal charming and cheerful self, roping you into a rather in-depth conversation about the hotel and how it could help someone in your situation before you had even managed to say a simple hello, and by the end of it you had found yourself with an invite to stay at the hotel despite being adamant that you weren’t after redemption because you didn’t regret what you had done. You had given up your own life and taken a killer with you to save the life of someone you cared for deeply. You didn’t need redemption because to you, you hadn’t done anything wrong. It hadn’t mattered much to Charlie, she was just excited to have a new friend and someone to help her with the arduous task of redeeming sinners. Something you had agreed to readily.

It was because of your roll in the hotel and friendship with Charlie that Lucifer came to meet you and his whole world got turned on its head.

He had been there to see Charlie, trying to rebuild their relationship after years of neglect and the hotel was a big part of that. She was enthusiastic about making this work, wanting so badly to help reform the inhabitants of Hell and put an end to the exterminations. Though he was slightly sceptical if it was actually going to work Lucifer was determined to support her and that meant taking a more hands on role with their people and the hotel that could potentially save their souls. No one was delusional enough to think their little throw down with Adam and his bitch hit squad would bring an end to the blood shed. If anything, it would just give Heaven even more of a reason to stomp their little revolt down, especially with Adam’s death firmly on their shoulders. Ah well, the little prick had it coming, emphasis on the little if Lilith and Eve were to be believed. The point was that Lucifer was trying his hardest to actually be worth a dam to Charlie and if that meant actually engaging with the filthy sinners in this land then so be it. It would all be worth it in the end to see his darling daughter smile. Plus, he would be able to keep an eye on that no good radio demon because oh boy, Lucifer really didn’t like him and he especially didn’t want him anywhere near his little girl.

The first time Lucifer saw you he was already on his way out, having just finished taking tea with Charlie and her little lost angel girlfriend. They had been walking past the parlour, talking about a flashier and more aggressive add campaign because “really Charlie these sinners are all the same. You need to hit them with a bit of pizazz, put on a show and they’ll come running.” When he had caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye. He had needed to do a double take because he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

You looked human, almost exactly the same as he assumed you had up top if it wasn’t for the lambs ears sticking out the side of your head. It was a glaringly obvious sign of your innocence, one that didn’t happen that often down here and Lucifer couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded at you. There had to be others like you down here, you weren’t the only person who had committed a sin for all the right reasons but Hell had a habit of taking people like that and chewing them up before spitting them back out into the streets, a more mangled and tainted version of themselves. You though, oh you were still pristine and innocent looking, even dressed in white to make it that much more obvious and Lucifer had to wonder if Charlie had found you straight after you had arrived in Hell.

It didn’t take you long to realise you were being watched, your little lamb ears twitching as your face scrunched up slightly. By the time you turned around to look at them Charlie was already talking rapidly, introducing you and explaining your role in the hotel. Lucifer only took in about half of it, something that wasn’t unusual these days. He just couldn’t help but space out, his mind wandering or just turning into static. He caught a few words here and there, but your name wasn’t amongst them, nor how you had come to be a resident of Hell. Oh well, he was sure he would pick it up at some point.

Lucifer couldn’t help but stare at you as you had gotten up from the chair you had been curled up on, wide and friendly smile in place that made your eyes almost sparkle. Like most souls down here you were taller than him, Lucifers eyes level with your collar bone and giving him an uninterrupted view of the curve of your neck though it was quickly hidden by the modest neckline of your floor length dress. You were so painfully innocent looking, a complete juxtaposition to every other soul down here and Lucifer was suddenly left feeling guilty and horrified by your presence down here because you clearly didn’t belong in Hell and it was all his fault because he had given humanity free will and damned you all to this hell hole because of it.

Lucifer had let out a loud and awkward laugh when you had addressed him as your majesty, completely ignoring your outstretched hand as he tried to put some distance between the two of you. He threw out some jumbled excuses about having other important things to do because he was “the King of Hell Charlie, lots to do, people to, to…well you know. Busy, busy, busy. That’s me,” and waving off any attempt Charlie made to get a solid answer from him. He needed to get out of there though, needed to be as far away from you as possible so he had ignored Charlie’s confused little frown and the hurt he had seen flash through your eyes. Without even a glance back Lucifer had opened up a portal there and then, calling out to Charlie that he would call her latter before disappearing through the portal and letting it almost slam closed behind him. He had spent the rest of day locked away in his work room, ignoring his phone and responsibilities in favour of working on yet more rubber ducks. So what if they all had little lamb ears and were dressed in white. It didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all.

The next couple of times Lucifer had to go to the hotel he avoided you like the plague, checking every room before he even stepped in the doorway. It worked for a while but of course his cleaver little girl figured out something was going on and after only a couple of weeks he had been faced with the dilemma of disappointing her or spending time with you. He hadn’t wanted to agree when Charlie had asked him to accompany you to Cannibal Town to visit a potential new guest for the hotel, but she had pulled out those big puppy dog eyes and went on about how “worried I am about her being out there all alone and defenceless. I would go with her myself but I’m running a training session on apologise and there’s no one else I would trust with this. Please dad, this would mean so much to me.” The little devil knew what she was doing, and Lucifer found himself agreeing even though the thought of spending any prolonged amount of time with you had his eyes twitching and skin itching. But Charlie had asked so he was going to suck it up and do it. Any way, he planned on opening a portal and just dumping you on the main boulevard of Cannibal Town, so it wasn’t like this was going to take that long.

He did not portal you there, in fact when he had presented you with it and tried to usher you through you had thanked him for the offer but you had still said “no, I think we should walk. It looks like a lovey day for it don’t you think?” You. Said no to him. To Lucifer Morningstar. To the king of Hell. The big boss. The number one honcho. No one said no to him, ever. It was all ‘yes Sir’ and ‘of course your majesty’ never no and he really didn’t like it. But you were Charlie’s friend and just like the dad wannabe loser Lucifer found himself unable to do anything about it because he couldn’t run the risk of upsetting his little girl and losing her forever. So, despite how much he really didn’t want to Lucifer found himself following behind you, glaring at you the entire time.

At least you had the good sense to cover your ears up with a hood and changed your usual white attire for something a little more Hell appropriate. People still stared, though more at Lucifer than anything else but he could understand why. It was a rare thing to see him and even rarer that he would be seen down on the streets amongst the sinners. All that attention made him feel uncomfortable, Lucifer desperately wanting to just open a portal and run back to his ducks, but his pride wouldn’t let him, demanding he put on a show for all the gawking masses. So, he stood straighter, holding his head high and plastering a wide teeth filled smile on his face as he greeted almost everyone the two of you passed. “Hi, hello. Yes, it’s me. That’s right, the big boss himself. Hi there, hey. I know, truly a honer for you.”

You didn’t say anything about his sudden change in demeanour, just glancing over your shoulder and raising an eyebrow at him whist smiling widely. When all he did was shoot you a glare you had turned your attention back to the street in front of you, laughing softly even as you side stepped a cat like soul passed out on the side walk. Neither of you interacted again and by the time you reached Rosie’s Emporium Lucifer was feeling drained, ready to just collapse at his work desk and sleep for a year. He wasn’t used to having to be this full on for so long, out of practice since his retreat into isolation and it was beginning to take its toll on him. He would have loved to just leave you there and make his escape, but he knew doing so would put you in danger, not to mention how angry Charlie would be with him, especially if something happened to you. So, Lucifer stayed, sat in a plush chair to one side with a rather excitable Rosie trying to talk his ear off whilst you were off in another corner of the shop talking as privately as you could with one of the shop workers.

Lucifer made sure to keep an eye on you the whole time, sipping on his tea and ignoring the dainty looking finger sticking out of it. Even though he couldn’t hear what you were saying it was clear that you were passionate about it, eyes wide and gesturing wildly with your hands whilst also drawing your companion into the conversation. It was interesting to see. Charlie had always been the passionate one when it came to the hotel. Yes, there were others who had an interest in it like himself and Vaggie but that was because they wanted to support her, not because they shared the same level of enthusiasm for her project but there you where. An outsider. A nobody in the grand scheme of things and yet you were the one out on the streets, talking to the souls interested in a shot of redemption regardless of the danger it put you in. It was interesting to say the least and left Lucifer with the desire to crack your head open and see how your mind worked.

Eventually you were done and not a moment to soon because Lucifer had just about had enough of making awkward small talk with Rosie. He was quick to jump out of the chair he had sunk down into as soon as he saw you finishing up, shouting his goodbyes over his shoulder as he grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out the door. As soon as you were outside Lucifer let go of you, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as he prepared himself for the long walk back to the hotel. It was fine, just one more thing to get through and then he was done, obligation fulfilled and Charlie still happy with him.

Next to him you sighed, Lucifer opening his eyes slightly so he could glance at you. Your hood was back up, ears hidden away within the shadows and if Lucifer hadn’t known better, he would have thought you as human as they came. Noticing him looking you offer him a tired smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It’s a familiar look that is a bit to self reflecting for Lucifers liking. He’s just about to start on a brisk walk back when you stop him in his tracks by asking “I don’t suppose you could be persuaded to open a portal back to the hotel could you? I know it’s lazy of me, but I really don’t think I have the energy for the walk back.” Lucifer stares at you for a long moment, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what your angle here was. All he sees though is a tired young women with an embarrassed flush to her cheeks whose looking at Lucifer like he could solve all her problems.

He doesn’t like it. Well maybe he liked it a little bit but that just made it a hundred times worse. He doesn’t want or need you relying on him for anything no matter the flutter of excitement he felt. Huffing, Lucifer opened the portal to the hotel lobby with a les then dramatic wave of his cane. He ignored your grateful thanks and Charlie’s surprised shout as as you stepped out in front of her. As much as he wanted to spend time with his daughter Lucifer was to drained to be anything even remotely close to pleasant company. So, he gave her a quick wave before he let the portal close and teleported back home.

Lucifer spent the next few days shut inside his home, trying to recharge from all the socialising and people. He worried that he might of upset Charlie with his sudden absence but like the shining star she was Charlie had understood, texting that very evening to thank him for the help and to visit for tea when he was feeling up to it again. It warmed his heart to see she cared so much that he hadn’t lost her completely and the realisation helped ease some of the tension he had been feeling since his little outing.

It took him four days before he returned to the hotel, Lucifer having been given an open invitation to go whenever he wanted. So naturally he hadn’t bothered to call or even text Charlie, just teleporting into the parlour and straight into you. The impact was enough to have you both tumbling to the floor, Lucifer ending up sprawled across the floor with you laying half on top of him, one of your knees between his legs and face pressed into the crock of his neck. Everything seemed to stop, Lucifer becoming painfully aware of everywhere the two of you were pressed together and how your weight felt on top of him.

You were the first one to move, looking up at him with wide and panicked eyes. His gaze locked with yours, the two of you seemingly waiting for the other to do something but Lucifer didn’t really know what he was supposed to do, his hands seemingly stuck to the floor. It was Charlie’s cry of “DAD!” that finally got you moving, scrambling to get off of him with a rush of apologise because you were “so sorry. I didn’t see you. NOT because of your hight! You just came out of no where and I didn’t have time to move. I’m so, so sorry.” Lucifer ignored you as he got back up, snatching his hat back off you when you held it out to him and dusting it off before putting it back on.

He felt strange, a mix of embarrassment and anger but something else that left his skin tingling everywhere you had been touching. He didn’t like it, feeling things he couldn’t explain, and he was inclined to blame it all on you. Huffing he straightened his clothes, shooting you a quick glare before breezing past you straight to Charlie and asking about the tea she had promised him and acting like the last few minutes hadn’t happened. He didn’t miss the frustrated groan you made as he and Charlie headed towards the lift or the extremely tall spider teasing you about how “he’s definitely gonna remember your name now toots. With an entrance like that it’s gonna be hard to forget.”

Lucifer frowned, getting a glimpse of you sinking to the floor and burying your head in your arms before the doors closed. Had he really not remembered your name, surely by now he had heard it and said it back to you but as he stood in the lift, Charlie already filling the small space with her chatter Lucifer realised that he really didn’t know what your name was, having resulted to calling you sheep girl when ever he had needed to address you and you had answered every time, never once correcting him and remaining polite and respectful, addressing him by his title when needed. That didn’t sit to well with him, knowing that someone who was an important part of Charlie’s life was still some what of a mystery to him. Well, he couldn’t have that. He needed to know everything about his daughters life and the people in it so he vowed there and then to make more of an effort with you. Even if it was just to make Charlie happy.

So the next time Lucifer had seen you he had made a point to say hello and trying not to laugh as you choked on your coffee. The time after that he had offered his help when you had been trying to get that Cherry girl to hand over the bombs she was holding. He had even complimented your outfit once or twice but what he hadn’t learnt was your name. It was like now that he was listening for it everyone had stopped saying it and as much as he was enjoying seeing you get more and more flustered with every interaction it was getting increasingly more and more difficult to avoid having to address you directly. He was on the brink of just going to Charlie and asking, admitting his lack of attention when you had done something completely unexpected. You had told him it yourself.

In an attempt to be closer with his daughter and stave off his bouts of depression Lucifer had been spending more time at the hotel, not doing anything in particular just hanging out, helping out where he can and keeping an eye on that no good asshat of a demon. He had been sat on the couch, tapping his cain on the floor and bored out his mind when you had suddenly sat down next to him, startling Lucifer enough that he had jumped a little. You didn’t say anything to start with, just sat staring at the wall opposite and leaving Lucifer to feel about a thousand times more out of place than he had just moments ago. He shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter as he to tried not to look at you but it was hard, his eyes darting over to you every couple of seconds because he couldn’t figure out what in the unholy hell you were doing.

He startled a bit when you broke the silence, taking in a deep breath before turning towards him with a friendly smile and your hand outstretched, greeting him like you hade never met him before. “Hi! I’m Y/N, it’s an honour to meet you your majesty.” Lucifers just sat there dumbly, staring at your hand like it was a bomb about to explode in his face. When he didn’t make any immediate move to do anything your smile fell, hand lowering back to your lap. You look so disappointed, your ears twitching downward as you glanced off to the side. Lucifers reminded of a younger Charlie, the look she would give Lucifer over her shoulder as Lilith lead her away. It’s devastating, filling Lucifer with guilt and regret. It’s this that spurs him forward, his hand darting out to grab yours and shaking it enthusiastically as he makes his own introduction.

It’s a rather strange interaction and Lucifers not really sure why it’s happening but he is rewarded with a wide smile and a genuinely happy laugh. The two of you carry on the brief conversation as if your new acquaintances, exchanging pleasantries and idle chit chat that really amounts to nothing. When Charlie arrives a couple of minutes later you thank him for his time and tell him it was “a pleasure to make your acquaintance your majesty,” before disappearing back up the stairs. When Charlie asks him what all that was about Lucifer shrugged, admitting he had “absolutely no idea. Odd one that one, best to keep an eye on her.” Charlie just shrugs it off, but Lucifers couldn’t help but look back at the stairs even though you were long gone. He was right, you were rather peculiar but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He found you somewhat interesting at least. Interesting enough that he remembered your name the next time he saw you a few days later, an odd feeling in his chest as your face light up with joy when he addressed you by your name.

From then onwards Lucifer mad a conscious effort to learn all the hotels inhabitants names, well at least the ones that mattered anyway. Not only did it help show Charlie that he was actively taking interest in the hotel, but it also meant that he got to have conversations with people that weren’t his ducks or his daughter, something that the aforementioned daughter had been rather insist he do. Something about engaging with others and “getting back out there dad. You’ve been cooped up in your office way too long, you need to start socialising. Meet new people, make some friends. Trust me, it’ll make you feel better.” Lucifer didn’t think becoming all chummy with the sinners would make him feel even remotely better but he truly was wrapped around Charlie’s little finger, so he gave it a go expecting everyone to run away as soon as he started talking, terrified of why the king of Hell was suddenly paying them attention. All but a handful proved him right, disappearing so much as a hello out. That left him with all of five people to talk to plus Charlie because Lucifer absolutely refused to include that rotten little radio freak as an option.

Nifty wasn’t really an option. She was small and psychotic, and he was pretty sure she was trying to flirt with him. Vaggie was always a good choice, she was an angel after all, and they both loved Charlie deeply but that didn’t make things any less awkward. Neither of them really wanted to talk about their time in Heaven and there was only so many times Lucifer could say how amazing Charlie was. With Angel Dust every other word out of his mouth was something to do with either sex or drugs, the little spider taking far too much joy in his work if Lucifer was being honest. Husk just knew to much, about everything and everyone plus he was bound in servitude to that pesky demon so Lucifer couldn’t chance their conversations going past casual pleasantries. That left you and surprisingly enough he didn’t hate it as much as he thought he would.

You were always polite, respectful of his status as the King of Hell though it never stopped you from teasing him, your eyes alight with amusement as he faked annoyance. Conversation was surprisingly easy with you, always willing to talk about whatever topic Lucifer came up with, even the ones he picked specifically to fluster you. As weeks turned into months it became less polite conversation in passing and more hour long discussions that covered anything from menial subjects like what had been going on in the hotel and what knock off rubbish Vox was peddling now to more serious subjects like how a soul is determined to have been a winner or a sinner and the grey area that people like you existed in. Lucifer even spoke about his time in Heaven and how he fell from grace. He hadn’t meant to, hadn’t even realised he had shared such an intimate part of himself with you until the heavy silence afterwards and he actually realised what had come out of his mouth.

He panicked slightly about how open he had been with you, talking about things that he hadn’t spoken to Charlie about and barely even mentioned to Lilith, but it had been so easy with you. He felt relaxed with you, like he didn’t have to constantly be performing the part of King of Hell, the embodiment of pride and the herald of humanities decent into sin. He was just Lucifer, though you refused to call him that despite how many times he insisted it was fine. He was just a guy with a weird obsession for rubber ducks who could be loud and flamboyant one moment or deep and serious the next. He was prone to sudden bouts of depression and often spaced out. So, what if he was powerful beyond most peoples realm of understanding, it didn’t seem to matter all that much with you anyway.

He had been expecting this to be a bit too much honesty for you though but after those few awkward seconds everything had sort of clicked into place and you were back to smiling softly at him and actually discussing some of the things he had said. It had surprised him that you had accepted it so easily, most people got a bit funny when it was highlighted that he was still an angel if but a fallen one. Though he shouldn’t be surprised, you were constantly exceeding his expectations of sinners. You didn’t shy away from the subject of heaven, a thousand questions on the tip of your tongue, seemingly having been waiting for him to breach the subject first. Lucifers found that he didn’t mind talking about it all if it was you asking and from there on out, he had little to no issue indulging your curiosity. Some subjects were still a little to raw to discuss, like Michale and Lilith’s departure but you respected that, knowing not to push when he clearly wasn’t comfortable with it. Your compassion and understanding earned you his respect, knowing full well that most would try and pry the information from him until he lost his shit and went full on demon king on them.

Somewhere between the guilt and awkwardness of your first meeting and Lucifers attempts to be more present in his daughter’s life something truly bizarre happened. The two of you became friends. Lucifer hadn’t even noticed not till Charlie commented on it on one of their little afternoon tea dates, happily stating that she was “glad to see you making friends Dad. I told you it would do you good to start talking to people and you really seem to be enjoying the time you spend either Y/N!” Lucifer had been adamant that wasn’t what was happening but the more he protested, and the more things Charlie listed off that made them friends Lucifer was forced to realise that was exactly what the two of you were. Friends.

He couldn’t deny that he found the whole concept bewildering, especially considering he didn’t know how it had happened. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he had gone from tolerating you to actually looking forward to spending time with you and actively seeking you out whenever he was in the hotel. But it had happened and now that he was aware of it Lucifer found himself glad that it had. It hadn’t fixed all his problems, and he would still find himself feeling anxious or sad at random times, leaving him to feel hollowed out and empty but it did help and Lucifer found himself experiencing his darker moods less often, even when he was on his own in his work room.

Now that he had a name for what was going on between the two of you Lucifer threw himself into your budding friendship, even deciding to dragged you along with him on his little adventures out into the city though Lucifer was very carful where he took you and when, not wanting to run the risk of putting you in harm’s way or having to suffer Charlie’s anger and disappointment if he didn’t return you in the exact same condition you were in when he picked you up. He even went as far as inviting you to his house to see his rubber duck collection after you had expressed an interest in seeing them and all because Lucifer had spent the better part of an hour talking about all the ones he had made.

The thought of having someone else in his space after so long had terrified him slightly. No one apart from him had stepped through his door since Lilith had left him, Charlie included and now that he had asked you over Lucifer was horrified to realise that his house was a mess. Well, his work room and bedroom were a mess, the rest of the house was just dirty, years of neglect obvious in the tick layer of dust over everything and the mass amount of cobwebs everywhere. He couldn’t have you coming here with the place looking like this. Not only would it be a blow to his pride, but you would undoubtedly tell Charlie and then she would know how well Lucifer hadn’t coped with his wife gone.

Determined that your first impression of his home was nothing short of perfect Lucifer had been quick to conjure up a whole host of copies to help with the arduous task. It had taken hours but they had gone through every room, one after the other, leaving surfaces sparkling they were so clean and a faint smell of candy apples in the air. The only rooms that hadn’t been touched at all were Charlie’s old room and Lilith’s private suite. The former because he didn’t want to risk upsetting his daughter and the latter because he couldn’t bring himself to open the door, the memories it held within still too painful to relive. Lucifer even tided his bedroom, making the mess of twisted sheets that was his bed and opening the curtains for the first time in years. He didn’t know why he bothered, there was no reason why you would end up in here but just in case that somehow happened Lucifer wanted it to be as perfectly tidy as the rest of the house.

He had only just vanished his creations and straightened his hat when you knocked on the door, lucifer taking a deep breath before yanking the thing open and pulling you into a hug so tight he was surprised your head didn’t pop off. You laughed at his excitable behaviour, giving him one of your wide smiles as you straightened out your clothes when he finally let you go. It had been been decades since Lucifer had anyone new in his home and he was sure he forgot some of the things that were expected of a host, like offering you a drink or letting you actually sit down. Instead, he had snatched up your hand and pulled you along behind him as he gave you a tour of the house, excited to show it off. He made sure to take you to every room, pointing out things that he thought were noteworthy, like the life size statue of a carousel horse in the main parlour or the framed drawing of Lucifer that Charlie had done when she was six in the study. You took it all in, letting him ramble on about each room’s contents and never once mentioning the rooms he skipped over. Lucifer showed you everything else though, even his bedroom though that had been a rather quick visit, lucifer having flung the door open tell you that “this is where I sleep alone hahaha!” before slamming the door closed and pulling you on to the next room.

His rather in-depth tour came to an end outside his closed work room, Lucifer fidgeting nervously as he asked you what you had thought of the place. He had been eager to hear you praise it but as you had stood there, fingers gently rubbing over the ornate lamp of an elephant balancing on a ball Lucifer wished he hadn’t been so thorough in his tour. He was well aware that he leant into the circus them a bit too much and that his home was no exception. It wasn’t that over the top, Lilith hadn’t allowed it, but it was present enough to be obvious even if some of it was subtle. He expected you to be polite about it, tell him that it was different or so him but yet again you surprised him, a genuine smile in place as you told him how much you “love it. It’s so cool. I mean where did you get these? They’re amazing!” Your seemingly genuine enthusiasm had Lucifer relaxing, his strained smile easing into something more real.

Knowing that you actually seemed to like his eccentricity Lucifer had no problem opening the work room door and tugging you inside, excitedly telling you that “this is where the magic happens. Oh, mind your step there, don’t want to end up getting lost in a duck pile.” You hadn’t seemed all that bothered about that though, eyes alight as you practically ran over to the nearest mountain of rubber ducks. It had been a fun afternoon, Lucifer taking great delight in explains each and every one of his ducky creations to you as you rifled through the piles. You especially got excited when you came across one that looked like someone you recognised, wanting to know exactly what had driven him to make them. By the time you were due to return to the hotel nearly a quarter of his little rubber duckies had been examined and sorted depending on what it did. It was the most organised they had ever been, but Lucifer didn’t hate it, nor did he hate the fact that you were returning home with a little ducky version of himself that had a habit of randomly turning into various other animals such as a snake or a goat.

Now that you had been in his home once Lucifer was adamant that it happened again and again and again until you were spending at least one day a week in his home. More often than not you would end up lounging on the sofa in his work room whilst he went over new plans and designs for things that weren’t ducks. That wasn’t all the two of you did though. Lucifer taught you how to play chess, your games starting out serious enough but after a while they devolved into chaos, each of you cheating in an attempt to win and never bothering to be subtle about it. On days that Lucifer was feeling less then himself it would often be him lounging on a sofa in the parlour, curtains drawn and the lights on dim with you sat in one of the arm chairs, your voice soft and melodic as you read to him, often going for one of the more happier works of fiction that you found in the library.

Overall Lucifers life was pretty good despite being stuck in Hell. He had rekindled his relationship with his daughter, finally stood up to Heaven and the massive douche bag that was Adam. And on top of all that Lucifer was making friends, well one friend and a couple of acquaintances but that’s just semantics. He hadn’t thought when he had first seen you with that to bright smile and little lamb ears that he would ever consider you anything more than a painful reminder of how he had contributed to humanities greatest fuck up but here he was, actually caring about someone’s wellbeing apart for his daughters. It was strange and exciting Lucifer not used to being liked instead of envied, feared or hated. Now all he had to do was make sure he didn’t fuck everything up like he had with every other meaningful relationship in his life.

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wilwheaton · 2 months

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I am so deeply sorry that you have been targeted with such disgusting vitriol. You were a child and deserved to be loved and protected, just as all children do. I was deeply grateful to you for speaking up about Elmo-gate because you were absolutely spot on. Elmo is a stand-in for children everywhere. There is no way to make these terrible people understand how a child would feel, seeing that. The way they would flinch, the way the realization that they are not safe in this world would hit them like a physical blow. And not just children, but anyone who has been at the receiving end of violence. Or just anyone with a heart.

These hateful commenters intentionally seek out people who have experienced abuse to mock them and make them feel worse. (Speaking from personal experience, in all corners of the internet.) I have no idea why they do it, but it sucks for them because they have to live within their own demented, awful minds.

All that to say, sorry that this is happening, and thank you.

You're very kind. Thank you.

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kudossi · 9 months

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Tigerclaw and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Senior Warrior Position AU

In a world where deputies can only be named after their first apprentice has been granted their warrior name, Tigerclaw struggles to keep an apprentice alive long enough to earn their name.

or, a comedy-tragedy AU in which having an apprentice isn't enough — you have to see them to their warrior name, and Tigerclaw cannot fucking get any of his goddamn apprentices to live, damn it.

—

It starts out mostly normally, except for the fact that Tigerclaw hasn't gotten any apprentices to their warrior name, and he needs that so he can accomplish his (very noble, of course) kitty genocide goals. And also be the supreme leader of the world or something. Darkpaw died stupidly, he hasn't had a chance since, and now he's got some tiny thing that's afraid of his own shadow.

Well. It'll have to do.

So naturally this man is so protective over Ravenpaw that Ravenpaw barely even leaves his sight. Firepaw and Graypaw think that this is adorable. Look how much Tigerclaw cares about his apprentice!!

Ravenpaw, of course, is fucking terrified and also slowly losing his mind, just in a different way.

—

"Redtail assigned us to go on a patrol to Snakerocks." "OH NO HE DID NOT. WE'RE STAYING IN THE SANDY HOLLOW WHERE IT'S SAFE."

"Nothing matters more to me than making you a warrior, Ravenpaw. Nothing." And the terrible thing is that Ravenpaw is sure he's being sincere.

—

Ravenpaw disappears and Tigerclaw nearly fucking has a conniption because the timing was all RIGHT and he was going to finally get the position AND HE NEVER GOT HIS DAMN NAME FUCK.

"Do you think I could convince the elders that Fireheart was my apprentice?" "Fireheart was Bluestar's apprentice, as approved by StarClan. You're going to have to wait for the next litter to be apprenticed."

So he begs and begs and gets Cinderpaw and then she accidentally falls into the trap he'd set for a better deputy candidate at the Thunderpath. Fuck.

—

Well. Time to resort to drastic measures.

"I was thinking that Darkstripe would have been a good name. Because he had dark stripes." "Again, Tigerclaw, it's admirable that you loved your apprentice so much, but I cannot grant him a name." "Are you sure?" "Honestly, Tigerclaw, I'm not sure he ever would have gotten a name. Missing quite a few feathers from his nest, that one..." Fuck. The worst part was that she wasn't even wrong.

— Swiftpaw and Brightpaw get mauled by the dogs he set up to happen like right after he got the title and they sprang it before and he's like FUCK NOW WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE DAMN DOGS? His world domination plans literally never come to fruition because he cannot keep his apprentices alive/in the clan/his own.

— "Brightheart counts. She HAS to count." "Actually, Cloudtail took over her training…" [demented noises]

—

Turns out that Ravenpaw is alive and no one — no one — in the Harper Collins Extended Universe is happier than Tigerclaw.

"You're alive! …You deserve your warrior name!" "Actually, I've come to peace with my name and my way of life. I have no need for a—" "GET YOUR FUCKING NAME RIGHT NOW RAVENPAW OR SO HELP ME STARCLAN—" "I know you really wanted Ravenpaw to become a warrior," Barley says gently, "but he's made his decision. It's very kind of you to acknowledge that he deserves it, though. You must have been so close as mentor and apprentice." Tigerclaw's eye twitches. "Yes. Close. Very... close." —

He finally, finally retires as an elder after his plans go absolutely nowhere for years on end. And maybe StarClan is still like "Brambleclaw would be chill actually, we can forget that pesky little law" and Tigerclaw is sitting there like "excuse me what the actual fuck?" —

But at this point Tigerclaw is about as dangerous as Ashfur without a freak forest fire. Which is to say about as dangerous as using a leaf as a weapon. Which is, incidentally, how Darkpaw managed to get himself killed in the first place.

—

"Is this the Dark Forest? This has to be the Dark Forest. It doesn't look like Thistleclaw described it, but it must be. This Clan is all an elaborate punishment meted down by StarClan for my sins." "Tigerclaw, sir, I'm just here to help you with your ticks. See? I have the mousebile right here." "…Yes, thank you, Alderpaw." — Graystripe joins him in the elder's den and he's like, "You know, Ravenpaw thought you were up to some… scheme, back in the day. Crazy, right? You've been a model Clanmate as long as I've been alive." [muffled screaming] "Huh, what do you think that is? It sounds almost like someone killed a rabbit, but they know not to come this close to camp…"

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bloodtested · 2 years

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got called an odd little nut by my grandma bc i like my chips chilled but she said it was part of my charm and that was the nicest way anyones ever said i was weird

#i used to get called demented by this kid in school bc i liked to draw horror art and ingeneral i think a lot of ppl just thought i was odd #it was in fifth grade btw like mf learned the word demented and shot it straight at my head like a fuckin nerf dart #like she said it in her joking way when she called me odd but idk it meant a lot to hear that its part of what makes me a lil charmer #bc i always thought i was like. the Weird Girl but not in the cool way in the like #'yikes this dudes strange as fuck im scooting away from him' kind of weird #and its always made me :( bc i dont mean to be how i am thats just how it is yknow #i have friends n all and im appreciative of them but i always worry that if i open up about my quirks and interests too much that they'll #think of me differently so i just kinda share very little #IDK IM RAMBLING SO HAD RN IM SORRY #mateos glitter diary

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tarjapearce · 7 months

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soccer family

how did miguel propose 👀💍

The serious questions yo ❤️✨

Hope you like 🥹✨

Time and life were funny. Sometimes funny in the good kind of way, sometimes in the oddest sorts. If someone would have told Miguel those three years ago, in that evening at Peter's carneada that he would meet his future wife, he'd surely would've just rolled his precious mahogany eyes at cuss in spanish at whoever speaking such nonsense.

He wasn't in the look for someone, yet there you were, his serendipity. Coming into his life like an unforgiving hurricane of things and emotions he had never had the time nor the interest in experiencing at their fullest.

Yet, there you were.

Blatant, not giving two shits on his scary nature, fascinated by him through and through and brazen for making a move. That had surely sealed the deal for him.

He wasn't one for backing away from difficulties, he knew much the challenge he represented to others. And still, you did not only pass it with flying colors, but had actually enjoyed it. Enjoyed him; and in all truth, he enjoyed you too.

Enjoyed the push and pull you offered, the demented moments that certainly earned his brain another wrinkle since he was learning so much from you. Enjoyed your attention and how willingly you'd bask him into it. You were his nepenthe.

How gentle and patient you were with him, when everyone expected so much out of him. Of course he was a genius, or else he wouldn't be into the Lab's head division back in Alchemax. But the way you made him experience things felt surreal, and the feeling increased ten times fold when you shared your first kiss.

The way your lips had tasted and devoured each other was engraved into his core memories. The way you both had explored and shared your emotions was exciting, thrilling yet oh so scary for him.

He wasn't one used to be taken care of. He was the caretaker. A self imposed role he always seemed invested in. But your little ways of weaving into his heart and mind showed him a new perspective of the world he often ignored.

He'd never forget how gentle and careful your tiny fingers were, when helping him patching up in that dirty soccer game. How shameless you were enjoying his reactions. How gorgeous you looked when your eyes wrinkled when laughing your ass off at his suffering. Cruel, but so so hypnotizing.

You'd soon become his wonderwall. His obsession and the only reason he'd go to social gatherings really. If you were there, everything was as it should be. Wonderful, the world would keep spinning normally, but in the few times your absence said present, he'd go home early. Bored out of his mind, the rest was too simple and unworthy of his attention.

Of course, women threw themselves at him. Appearance wasn't something he indulged too much neither care. He was aware of his looks, specially on his little pair of abnormal fangs you loved to feel, for whatever reasons.

"I just do." You'd tell him. And that was more than enough motive to stop worrying over them. You loved them. You loved him.

Every bit of his unwanted self, you made sure he'd know how much you enjoyed it, how much you cherished that certain part he had grown uncomfortable with through his younger years and he'd do the same for you.

After you had shared your bodies, there was no turning back for him. He gave everything of himself into you. His flesh, his scent, his energy and love to you. Something so raw yet pure that turned you into his inspiration, his muse.

You always strived to be better, for yourself mostly.

"How can one be the best version of oneself if we don't grow ourselves as individuals? I want you to have the best of me."

You'd shared in between giggles and drunken thoughts.

He adored your drunk self but would never admit it out loud. You'd come up with the most random yet brain eater questions you could imagine.

He'd fear that day that nearly lost you completely over his stupid pride. A fight ignited by your family. A reason to rarely and never visit them.

He loved your mind. And as months passed on you both, he learned how to love your flaws as well.

And now, three years after, you had given him one of his most precious gifts. His firstborn. His daughter. His child. The result of his unbridled love towards you.

You were his. But of course you had no ways to prove it to the world.

He'd spend hours if possible, watching you through loving yet stoic eyes, feed his little bundle of love, that was overjoyed whenever he held her.

A little Gabriella that was now deep asleep into her crib, in her own room, under his roof. Of course you'd move in with him when Gabi was born. It was the right thing to you.

Six months had passed since her birth, and three years with six months had passed since he met you.

You crawled under the sheets, quanked, yet with the little bits of energy you had left, curled into his chest. Seeking his blanketing warmth. His chest your safe space.

"Took me longer this time to make her fall asleep"

"Yeah. Maybe we should take her to the doctor."

His brows knitted together briefly before kissing your forehead.

"I'm pretty sure she'll be fine."

Silence crawled on you both as you just relished into each other's company. His heartbeat kept pounding in his ears.

The past year and a half had gone through but a certain question was always present. Why hadn't he ask you sooner? It didn't matter.

You remained at his side. So ever loyal, so brave, so rident and brisk. You were exactly what the hypothetical cupid delivered him after his secret longings.

"Mi reina?" (My queen)

An endearing term he only used when discussing serious matters. Despite the exhaustion taking your body hostage, you inquired him with a small and sleepy 'Hm?'

"Would you marry me?"

Eyes looked up at him, a mix of surprise and anger. Surprise that he'd ask such thing out of the blue and anger for the question to be so... powerful and simple that left you speechless. And still, you couldn't help but chuckle out of nervousness.

"It's not a laughing matter corazón. I mean it. Would you marry me?"

You felt your left ring finger being adorned with a golden band that against all odds was perfect in your finger. Like he had forseen this for quite the time.

But it also made sense. All those little moments of him touching and examining your hands resumed into this moment.

"Of course I wanna marry you, tontito" (dummy)

He chuckled as he caressed your hair in his own self grounding and reassuring touch.

"Good. Good."

"Te amo."

His heart wasn't raging anymore, but soaring into this quiet and maddening joy. You had said yes. The words he so yearned for you to say , finally spoken to his heart.

"También te amo, preciosa."

Your own heart soared in bliss at the words you had been secretly practicing over and over. You no longer had to practice, since one of your secret and wildest dreams had came true.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#gabi o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 imagine #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fluff #proposal #atsv imagines

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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

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🤠🫶:

I am CACKLING like a cartoon villain oh my GOD you are a genius!!! Of course the toxic king breaks his back of COURSE he does the fucking idiot (affectionate), so there's fuck-all he can do with reader's big announcement that this was all worth it and he can totally get some...yknow, in a couple months. AHHHHH. And she just wanted to give him something to look forward to, motivation for the physical therapy <33 (she boops his nose while he lays there wishing for death and cowering from her, of course she does, omg. i love them your honor!!)

and maybe she gets more confident now that he can't fucking move 💀💀 (lmao, oh god. König if you weren't such a menace this would have been easier for her a lot earlier and nobody would be in this situation) and maybe this leads to way more sensual touching from her on her own initiative; she's curious, after all, and she does like him a lot and she's just trying to help him get better, you know? and König eats that shit up, starts telling her all about these itches and sore muscles he can't reach, could she be a dear (trying to act like he's not literally begging for her touch) and then he basically blacks out the first time her hands linger and drift, but probably better that than the things he was going to say to her. So König wants to die, this is too much, he's done, he's a goner each time she visits him. and damn her, she's a devoted little thing, never misses visiting hours. Always so sweet and caring towards him and it's the perfect image of a faithful, doting housewife without the wife or the house or the sex part of it lmao. And of course he can’t move when all this is happening!!! so basically just more torture and his mind just kind of breaks into little tiny pieces held together by demented lovesick lust-filled fantasies. he says some absolutely filthy things (makes the cunt licking look family friendly in comparison), he can't control it really anymore, and poor reader is shocked/horrified and blushing furiously, but thinks it's the medications and the pain and whatnot, tries to be understanding, only chides him once she gets her shock under control (and he's actually stone cold sober the entire fucking time lmao, but he ain't telling her that, she'd run if she knew).

AND THEN MAYBE~~ (dun dun dun) one day reader is FINALLY reaching under the stupid hospital bed blanket - he can feel her soft little fingertips and carefully manicured nails travel down his abs, trace the V of his hips (my man is going to black out again, good lord) and she's looking at him with big round eyes and she's nervous she's going to do it wrong and he won't like it (as if), and it's taking FOREVER for her to get her hand between his legs bc sweet little thing just wants to do it right, and he's out of his mind, half-crying, whisper-begging at this point (it's probably not even English, not German either, just mindless pleas). Her hand FINALLY wraps around his length and he's lucky he doesn't cum right then and there; she's blushing so violently at taking a man in her hands for the first time and she's seeking HIS approval with those pretty doe eyes as she bites her lip. So of course that's when there's a knock at the door (the universe hates him, he's going to scream, whoever this is is lucky he can't move and they might die anyway from the blast radius of sheer rage) and a doctor comes in for daily rounds. Reader barely has time to yank her hand back before doc sticks his head through the privacy curtains and yep our man's heart might actually just stop, he is just going to keel over right then and there.

so not even a handjob for our poor king <3 if he doesn’t die (lol) he transfers to in-home care IMMEDIATELY and finally gets reader to himself in a more private setting where he can lock the fucking door. this is the part where I look away lmao, I'd leave him blue-balled & suffering forever ...am i a mean person?? also RIP to that doctor. this verse is so hilarious & wonderful and i love it, feels like a tug of war between tropes and genres if that makes sense which results in your delightful genius works, thank you thank you <333

This is so beautiful. I am puddle & I can't thank you enough for collaborating & I LOVE YOU Howdy anon 💋 and um, I think I got a little too excited about their first time lol oops (I can't leave him blue-balled forever! Poor man would die of heart failure 🥺)

(Tamara and Demon (1864), Mihály von Zichy)

Word count: 3.7 k

CW: 18+ NSFW. Corruption kink goes brrrr. Masturbating, dirty talking, obsessive/yandere König. Awkward handjob. First time/virgin!reader. Kinda sweet and fluffy 🩷 Also coersion/mildly dubious consent, tread carefully!

A/N: You can find the story of König x virgin!reader and their relationship so far by following the tag (könig x virgin reader)

Oh she visits him alright!

She’s much braver now that König is bedridden and can’t move. They actually spend more time together after the weightlifting accident. The intense stares haven’t gone anywhere, he's actually gotten worse in that department, but otherwise, König is behaving quite nicely.

He seems to like it when she reads to him next to his bed, which is immensely cute in her opinion. Armed with a new book in the crook of her arm, she’s on her way to visit him again for another session.

She's already accustomed to simply floating in after giving his door a light rap. She's also gotten used to the sight of guns and knives and the smell of army storage, even the manly, pungent stench of sweat that lingers on top of it.

But it’s not the potpourri of masculine military scents that stop her at the door and nearly make her drop her book.

The King himself is lying naked on the bed – well, naked except for the bag of a mask he seems to hold on to like it’s his soul. This time, she doesn’t even see it: her eyes fly straight to the towering erection he’s stroking, urgently with one hand while the other cups a pair of shaved, pale balls.

"König…?"

The man who calls himself King curses – in German or in English, she can’t tell. The sight of him there, caught red-handed on touching himself, only makes her feel sorry for him. König has nowhere to run and hide, nothing to cover himself with, he's not supposed to even move yet. And he is not the one who should be embarrassed, after all, she's the one who barged in on his privacy.

Although… König doesn't look embarrassed.

He only looks drunk and sweaty and in need.

She thinks about turning back and leaving him with hurried excuses because what the hell is she supposed to do…? Read him a book? He is still gripping his cock like it’s a sword or something, breathing like he just ran a marathon.

And speaking of swords, that weapon is far too big for her... Hell, she doesn’t know much about swords but she would deem that sword far too big for any woman.

If she were clever, she would run away from that stare and that huge, monstrous cock. But she’s not that clever, that much is clear because everyone she’s told she’s dating König have warned her about him. Every cell in her body is warning her of danger, but she keeps running back to him, over and over again…

Well, at least he can’t move, she thinks, takes a hesitant step, and places the book down on a table. Just when she’s about to whisper some calming, soothing words to this beast, the beast speaks.

"Take your clothes off," comes a husky command from the bed, and she freezes with her fingertips still on the cover of her cute little book about German fairytales (she knows König likes his fairytales bloody).

Normally, she would make a scene out of such audacity. She might even storm out of the room and vow to never speak to him again for daring to talk to her like that.

But…

He looks so desperate. König looks like a giant bound for torture on that bed. And he's not the only one who has been tormented these past few weeks… The incident at the hospital has plagued her dreams every night as she has tucked herself in with the memories of König's… sword.

Perhaps it would help with his pain if she offers him relief in his time of need. No harm can come from that, surely. She doesn't know how exactly taking her clothes off will help, but if that is his wish, then it’s the least she can do.

To her and his surprise, her hands drift to the hem of the top she’s wearing. She’s feeling rather wild – something about seeing König completely naked yet unable to move is making her act like this. Like she's the brave one. Like she’s in control now.

Dedicated to her task, she pulls the shirt over her head.

Nothing moves on that bed for a good long while. As far as she can tell, König might've stopped breathing. But by the time she takes her bra off, there’s a swallow under that hood. Then the hand slowly starts to stroke again, the moist, slick sounds continue as her breasts fall free from their confinement.

She’s breathing heavily too, and the man on the bed is stiff as a stone: every single muscle in his body is pulled taut as he stares at her breasts like they’re the Revelation of John. Then those blue eyes lift to her face just before another command is issued.

"Take off the rest."

"The–the rest…?"

"I just want to watch you."

His voice is hoarse and croaky, and she feels even more sorry for him – König must be in so much pain and she just keeps on teasing him. She started this, so perhaps it’s better just to see it through.

What’s crazy though is that he actually moans when she gets out of her pants, socks, and finally, her underwear. The slick sounds of fapping increase, and he’s moaning.

She hasn’t even touched him yet… She’s just standing there before him completely naked, heat pooling low in her belly as König continues to work himself with what looks like both pleasure and pain.

"Komm… Come here," he orders next, out of breath but surprisingly politely, and she has no other option than to approach his bed. She sits down as chastely as possible, then almost jumps back up when a steel-hard thigh brushes against hers.

"Touch it. Ja?"

Her eyes grow as wide as they can go as she takes in the cock she has touched once before, briefly and under a hospital sheet. Now it’s right there, foreign and demanding.

Better just to see it through, her mind tweets as her hand reaches out through what feels like water. Like before, there's a sharp intake of air under the hood as she takes him in her hand. It’s even hotter than she remembered, and gives a tight pull the instant her fingers wrap around it.

"Like this…?"

"Just like that…"

Her meek little mouse peeps and multiple bats of eyelashes are like drug to him, it seems. The man is as tight as a bowstring when she starts to move her hand up and down, mimicking the motions she just saw him do. They're not as fast as his, and her grip must be way gentler, but she seems to do surprisingly well for an inexperienced virgin. The poor man looks like he’s about to faint on that bed.

What she doesn’t expect, however, is König to touch her.

A large, warm palm sweeps across her ribs and lands on her breast, softly, as if he's concerned that he might scare her off. She's the one who's stopped breathing now… And then he rubs her, squeezes her. Gently… Reverently.

"You're soft," comes a strained sigh from the bed as she tries to keep her own grip both tight and gentle. She’s starting to get so wet she fears she will stain his sheets. Bewildered, she tries to change her position, but the palm cupping her breast seems to have bound her to the bed too. Nothing moves, except her hand and his as they explore each other. A giant and an angel...

Something hot and wet meets her hand as she strokes him – is he cumming already…? But it can't be, she has heard there’s supposed to be quite a bit of it when a man cums, and there’s only a few ample drops of clear liquid oozing out of the slit on his tip.

"Can't wait for the day I get to make you scream," he rasps, and her heart is hammering in her chest as more cum-like liquid streams from the slit of his cock, adding to the lewd, moist sounds of the handjob she’s giving him.

König doesn’t know she has never even kissed a guy…

"We'll… we'll get there," she tries to soothe him, thanking her lucky stars this man can't move.

"I want to fuck you," he continues, sounding more and more desperate. "Good and hard… until you cry under me. Want to see if you can take it all in."

"König…"

"It’s a long cock, ja? I can make you squirt."

"König, I'm still a virgin… You can't–"

"Nh–Sorry… sorry."

His head falls back on the pillow, his muscles relax just for the tiniest moment. But if she thought he would finally leave her to it, she was wrong. The hand of a giant killer drops between her legs next.

She’s sitting on the bed like she would sit on a side saddle, with one leg slightly bent, giving the horniest man on earth good enough access to the heat between her legs. She doesn’t stop him – she doesn’t even want to – as broad fingertips meet her pubic hair and slip between her already slick folds.

"...Was? Pretty angel is all wet," he comments on her state of mess. Approvingly: like all his fears have suddenly disappeared.

She has to fight the urge to roll her head back and moan as those agile fingers start to give her full, generous strokes. She almost messes up her rhythm while stroking his cock, which seems to have gotten even harder.

His fingers delve into her with more courage, they tease her tight, tender nub with excited circles. She tries not to jolt and shiver as he makes her even more slick, tries to ignore how her nipples grow hard from that burning stare alone.

"Such a pretty girl… and so wet. You sure you don't want it?"

She thinks about it – how it would feel if he somehow was able to take her on that bed. If he pushed that cock inside her and if it would hurt or make her moan even more. Even the thought of trying to fit that inside her makes her thighs feel like pudding.

"I don’t know… You're still recovering."

"Heh… That's not a problem. You can be on top. I'll help," he offers as if it’s a gentlemanly thing to do, to help her bounce on that huge cock.

"I–I'd rather do it the classic way."

"I'll show you classic when I get better," he promises with unconcealed greed. "I'll show you all the other ways too. We’ll do it any way you like."

She tries hard not to whimper when hearing his promise. She tries her best to pleasure the biggest cock she’s ever seen. It’s ridiculous that it’s the only cock she’s ever seen... What sort of a cruel joke was it from the universe to choose this king-sized Austrian to be her first man?

She wonders how König would react if she told him he’s too big for her.

Would he try to change her mind? Would he have a meltdown?

Would he cry…?

She doubts if this man ever cries. The last time a brutal soldier like him shed tears was probably when he was a kid. But he did look like he was about to cry that one time when she booped his nose...

And despite being a cold-blooded soldier and somewhat awkward at times, König has always been so, so delicate with her. He's tender even now, touching her with the gentlest avarice there is. But that searing stare wants to possess her, devour her, and it makes her bite her lip nearly to the point of drawing blood.

"Sit on my face?" he offers next, this time sounding so desperate it's almost pathetic.

Sit on his face…

What would he even do? Lick her? Try to push his tongue inside her while finishing himself?

The thought alone makes her mess up her rhythm again and causes her pussy to pulse more wetness on his fingers. She secretly hopes he would slip at least one of those fingers inside.

"Let me see your cunt," he begs. God – this giant mercenary is begging to see her poor, aching pussy. "Just… let me at least taste you–"

She can’t even reply before the hand between her legs gives a sudden twitch and stops those delicious rubs. Actually, his whole body is going rigid.

"König…? Am I hurting you?"

"I'm–gonna cum…"

Oh god.

Oh god ohgod-

She's not sure what gives her more of a fright: the sound that leaves her soldier boyfriend as he cums, or the bright, hot flash of liquid that shoots from the cock in her hand.

He groans like it’s torture. Long and hard, so loud that she’s sure other people can hear it in the neighboring rooms, perhaps even further than that. There’s one, two, three spurts of thick, hot liquid, after that, she loses count because it spills to coat his stomach, it runs down her hand, and she’s pumping him in a frenzy while he just keeps on moaning.

"Slow, slow down–" he tries to groan in the middle of his climax and she obeys immediately, reveling in how his cock still throbs in her hand when she finally stops moving altogether. More cum gushes out with every strong pulse, even if the eruptions are less violent. Ropes of it already cover his abs, it coats her hand with thick film – it's far more than she would ever have expected, and a shiver goes through her as she imagines what it must feel like to take all of that semen inside her…

"Ah… Das war wirklich…" König sighs dreamily while she must be looking like a startled deer.

Yes, that was really something… She doesn’t know what to do with his cock, or her hand, or the mess that coats half his body.

Luckily, he instructs her to take his old shirt from the floor and clean herself with it. She cleans him with it too, dabs the black t-shirt over his muscled stomach, even tries to swipe his crotch with it as gently as she can.

König looks happier by the minute, looks at her like she’s an angel or something, and when she fully commits herself to getting him cleaned up, he gets another erection. She’s quite horrified – how is this even possible…? She thought men would need at least hours to get it back up again.

"Come on top," he offers, sounding all but seductive with that commanding tone.

She swallows, thinking if König wants to be a "gentleman" and finish her too. With his tongue... or something else.

"Just for a hug? We don't have to put it in."

She seems to be under some spell tonight, because she simply drops the poor, cum-stained shirt back on the floor and crawls to the bed and on top of him.

König is hot and lean as she presses herself against him, her thighs now straddling the intimidating thing between his legs. Her head falls right beside his mask-covered face, and the smell of guns and fuel and sweat is prominent there, as is his natural odor, the woodland musk she has grown so fond of.

"There we go," his arms go around her waist, pressing her tighter against him. There’s no escape now, she thinks, but like always with König, she eventually softens and relaxes, molds against him… Accepts her fate.

"You did well, Meine Liebe," he even caresses her head as she slowly melts into his hold. "I’m sorry if I frightened you. Will you forgive me?"

"Um, of course."

"A gentleman should always apologize if he has upset his lady. Do you agree?"

"Uh… Yes."

"I promise to be a good man. The best man you could ever hope for."

She bites her lip as König continues to caress her. She’s far from upset, but she doesn’t want to tell him that and excite him too much. Otherwise he might end up hurting himself. He hugs her tight, and seems to have calmed down more than ever.

Is this what an orgasm does to a man...? The change is drastic, and her lover feels warm, and tender, and inviting. He even whispers more promises on her skin. They're nonsensical but gentle, König is probably trying to be romantic, but she can feel how his breaths grow heavier as time goes on. After all, they're both naked, pressed tightly together, closer than ever before, and he's having an erection again...

She tries not to shiver at the things he tells her. The husky promises of love and protection: "You are mine now, ja? Don’t be afraid. I would never hurt you. I will always keep you safe." And then, "You’re still wet, mein Mädchen… How about we practice just a little bit? We'll do it slow. Ja? I will make you moan…"

He coos those things in her ear while holding her in place for his cock. She starts to move on her own accord; it’s like her hips have their own will. Soon, her entrance meets the tip of him, still hot and bulged, and she starts to grind against it with barely restrained greed. She is wet – wetter than ever.

König curses multiple times under his breath, and she feels so, so filthy for loving how unhinged he is, how unhinged she is – spread wide on top of him like that, trying to get off of the faintest touch of his cock. She’s so soaked that the hot tip of him glides across her folds with no effort at all.

She feels like she’s doing something forbidden, taking her pleasure from him like that, but König doesn’t seem to know what the word filthy even means. He keeps praising her, guiding her, helping her, telling her how good she feels, that she’s doing so, so well.

Soon, he’s asking to put it in – just the tip.

She tries her best not to sound too needy as she breathes a soft, mousy "Yes."

"How does that feel?"

He’s panting, few inches of thick cock inside her, and she thinks, did she just lose her virginity? Is this it? Why isn’t it hurting?

“You like that, hmm?”

He feels so, so good, pressing her against him, spreading her legs with his own, trying to feed more of that marvelous thickness inside. It doesn’t hurt, at least not yet. It makes her dizzy to even think what she must be looking like, with her legs spread and a huge cock partly inside her.

She should say something… What was it that he asked? Oh yes, if she likes it. She more than just likes it, and tries to push herself down to get more of him in. König reacts immediately with a ton of praise leveled at her in the softest possible way.

“That's it, that's it, pretty girl, take it in…”

Him cheering her on like that only makes her decide that it’s time to let go and let go for good. But she can’t get him in by herself, not while he’s holding her a prisoner like this.

"More… König, please," she hears herself whimper.

God, is this all it took...? Him holding her close and letting her find the joys of sex herself? Apparently so, because he sounds goddamn smug when he turns his head to rasp more needy, throaty things in her ear.

"Ah… Knew you'd beg for it… "

His voice makes her inner walls clamp down on him, and that’s when it hurts, but only slightly. She wants him so much that it’s painful. And König… God, he keeps on showering her with praises and promises.

"I'll show you how good it can be… That's it, let me hear you. It's a good cock, ja? Good cock for a pretty girl…"

It’s not even fully in before he starts the thrusts. That’s when she knows she has lost her virginity. She’s being plunged. Not taken… Just… loved, thoroughly and deeply.

When she moans, finally sounds as filthy as can be, he tells her how tight she is. How good she feels. He says he’s going to cum again soon. But not before her…

He doesn’t need to instruct her to rub her clit on his pelvis in rhythm with the thrusts. She is smart enough to do that by herself. And the thoughts of This is it, I’m not a virgin anymore have turned into Is it possible to cum on your first time…?

Everything’s perfect, all things considered. But there’s something missing.

"König," she swallows arduously. "I’ve never been kissed... Would you– Could you…?"

He stops moving, releases his hold a little. A strong heart is hammering inside his chest, she can feel it against her own fluttering heartbeat.

Is it stupid of her to ask…? Will he only laugh at her for being so sentimental?

Apparently no, because it’s the warmest possible command that surrounds her this time.

"Lift the mask, angel."

By the time their lips meet, both hesitant and needy, he's fully inside her and holding her like a mountain. She feels like she's in a fairytale now: the only thing that moves is his mouth, and hers. Theirs is a slow, hungry rhythm.

Her first kiss is not only awkwardly romantic and sweet, it’s sinfully good.

The kiss also does things she did not expect. Her pussy goes tight around him, so tight that a whimper or two escape her nose, and König only purrs – she feels like the softest little creature in the embrace of a lean jaguar.

And she thinks…

Why on earth didn't they do this months ago?

#answered #yandere könig #könig smut #könig x virgin reader

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rabbitblackx · 1 year

Note

Could we pretty please get some NSFW/SFW voyeur Brahms? He's comfortable with reader and reader is comfortable with him, but he's still very shy and prefers to watch and lurk in the shadows instead of engaging, maybe even shying away when reader tries to initiate beyond a kiss?

Voyeur!Brahms Heelshire x Reader Headcanons

SFW💖

Brahms was extremely touch starved, having been shunned to the walls and all. As much as he’d love to hold you in his arms, he was still hesitant. Instead, his favourite thing to do was watch you through the cracks in the walls

Brahms liked to watch you just go about your day as normal. It almost made him feel normal (almost). His heart hammered against his chest when you called out to him to show himself. The sound of his name rolling off your tongue made him go wild

Brahms could contain himself kind of well when you gave him kisses. Even without the mask he somehow managed to behave himself. He just went a bit crazy when you initiated anything else. As demented and perverted as the man was, he still actually did feel a bit bad when he got too handsy with you

Brahms started to distance himself because of this. He cut himself off to just your kisses, so he wouldn’t scare you out of the manor with his roughness. The only way to get him out was to nearly beg him, and that was where this came in…

NSFW💖

First of all, Brahms loved to watch you play with yourself. He stared intently through the crack in your bedroom wall, observing where you laid on the bed naked. You knew he was watching, so you thought you’d put on a show for him

Brahms shrugged his cardigan off to the ground as you stroked the wetness between your legs. His breathing grew shaky and heavy from behind his mask. You moaned as you continued to please yourself, and Brahms pushed his suspenders off his shoulders

Brahms groaned lowly as he wrapped a hand around his own sex, muttering your name to himself. He jacked off along with you, looking at your fingers fucking yourself, and the look of pleasure on your face. You could faintly hear his deep breathing from inside the wall

“Brahms,” you moaned, making his belly drop. “Come fuck me. Please.” You begged breathlessly

Brahms yanked his suspenders back up and immediately made his way to your closet, where there was a passageway for him hidden behind your clothes. He emerged from the door and stood menacingly in the corner of your room

No more shying away from you now

#brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms x reader #slashers x reader #slasher smut #slasher x reader #rab.reads

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gigabyte-flare · 1 year

Text

There's No Escape (Part 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: You inadvertently discover one of Leon's trauma triggers, piquing your curiosity as you to try to figure out why he is the way he is.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 3k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass. You are solely responsible for your own content consumption

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation, drugging. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings could be added in the future.

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @explorevenus, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip, @dollrxst, @lomaeuwu, @aliet, @luniaxifics (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: Holy shit you have no idea how happy I am to finally get this out. I had originally written out something completely different from what this ended up being, but I hated where it was going, so I changed it. Definitely like this better. It does get pretty intense in this one, but then it gets kind of fluffy and then there's some angst. As always, please excuse any grammatical errors. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You awoke to the most intense feeling of pleasure washing over you. A tongue swirling over your sensitive clit along with at least two fingers digging inside you, hitting your g-spot oh, so right. You arch your back as you push your head back into the pillow, your eyes still closed as you let out a soft moan.

You open your eyes, sit up on your elbows and look down, seeing Leon kneeling at the end of the bed, your legs draped over his shoulders as he ate you out and fucked you with his fingers. In that moment, the recollection of where you were and how you got there rushed at you all at once, causing you to tense up completely. Leon stops what he’s doing and looks up at you, his lips drenched from your juices and the remnants of his release from the night before.

“Oh, sorry princess! Did I wake you?”

You think about giving him a good kick in the face, but you were so drained, plus you weren’t keen on getting put in timeout and chained to the wall again. Resigning to your current situation, you lay back down, giving him a wave of your hand for him to continue. Instantly you feel his lips sucking on your clit, causing your legs to twitch as his fingers continue their assault on your g-spot.

As much as you hated this man, there was no denying that he was extremely good at taking care of you, knowing exactly which buttons to push. It’s likely why you tolerated his sick, demented mind for as long as you had before escaping.

Your whole body begins to tremble as you inch closer to your release, your legs clenching to his powerful shoulders. Your right hand runs through his hair as you let out a loud moan.

“D-Daddy… I’m so close!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the back of his head.

You feel him smile around your clit as his fingers begin to pound into you, and in an instant you snap, soaking his fingers with your release as you cry out. You feel him pull his fingers out of you, you sit back up to look down at him.

“What a good girl,” he purrs, licking your juices from his fingers like it was candy, “Daddy’s going to get cleaned up, then I’ll make us breakfast, ‘k pumpkin?”

You watch him stand up and go into an adjacent room, which you assume is the master bathroom. You hear the sink run for a couple minutes as you get up from bed, your legs extremely unsteady between last night and this morning. You approach the closet and open it. You don’t see your clothes, however you do see a large navy blue t-shirt you could use. Pulling it out, you see the faded letters say ‘R.P.D.’. Pulling your sweaty t-shirt off and tossing it into the laundry basket on the floor in the closet, you pull the new t-shirt over your head.

It didn’t quite cover your lower region, so you found a pair of his boxer shorts to put on with it. You felt gross wearing his clothes, but it was better than being naked, which you figured Leon would enjoy way too much; you couldn’t have that. Turning around, you find Leon standing in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at you in awe.

Maybe you were better off naked…

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Later that afternoon, you were in the living room trying to hook up your game console as Leon worked on paperwork for his job in an adjacent office. His only instruction was that you weren’t too loud. Once you got it hooked up, you sat on the floor, cross-legged, as you went through the small pile of games that Leon had grabbed from your apartment prior to bringing you here.

You decide to put in a game called Dead Rising, a game about a photographer stuck in a mall infested with zombies that you could grab pretty much anything you could use as a weapon to kill the zombie horde with. You needed an outlet for your pent up frustration at your situation. As you boot up the game console, you make note of the clicking sounds coming from Leon’s office, letting you know he was distracted with his work.

You get the game booted up, and immediately you get to work killing as many zombies as possible. You catch yourself smiling, this is the most normal you have felt in over three months. You pause the game for a moment to adjust yourself on the floor, one of your legs is starting to fall asleep. You happen to glance down at your shirt.

You wonder what R.P.D. stands for…

P.D. clearly meant police department, and given Leon’s current occupation of ‘government agent,’ you wouldn’t be surprised if Leon had been a cop at some point, although he neglected to mention that when you first met him. Odd. You unpause the game and continue your undead killing rampage, that smile of content returning to your face as you let out a sigh, completely oblivious to the fact that the clicking of Leon’s keyboard had stopped.

The TV suddenly explodes in a burst of sparks, loud bangs ringing in your ears as you sit there in complete shock. As the smoke clears you see three holes in the TV which you immediately recognize are bullet holes. Before you’re able to process what just happened, you feel Leon’s hand grab you by your hair, forcing you to your feet, he practically drags you out of the room.

“Ow, son of a bitch, Leon! What the hell?! What did I do?!”

“Out of all the games you could play, you had to pick one with fucking zombies in it,” Leon growled, pulling you towards the timeout room.

“No, no, no, NO! I’ve been so good, why are you putting me in timeout?!” you cry out, trying to struggle against him.

He whips the timeout room door open, tossing you onto the bed, slamming the door behind him. He grabs you by your throat, bringing you up to the collar, making short work of clamping it around your neck. He didn’t bother with the other chains.

“Will you at least tell me what I did wro--”

You are suddenly smacked across the face with a very heavy object, your vision blurs for a second as your head rings. You feel blood start to drip out from your mouth; you must have bit your tongue when you were hit. You realize quickly that the heavy object was one of Leon’s prized pistols.

“For starters…” Leon growled, once again grabbing you by your hair, pulling your head back as you felt the muzzle of the pistol under your chin, “you didn’t call me, Daddy. And you swore at me, again.”

“D-Daddy I’m sorry! I just don’t know what I did wrong!” I sob, tears streaming down your face as blood trickles from your mouth.

“You just had to play something with fucking zombies in it!” Leon shouted.

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. You’ve seen Leon angry before, but you’ve never seen Leon this irate, and about a zombie video game of all things.

You swallow hard, “Daddy… zombies aren’t real… it was just a video game…”

Much to your surprise, Leon lets out a boisterous laugh, “oh sweetheart, what I’d give to be as ignorant as you.”

“W-What are you talking about…?”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through, princess. How much I have lost.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, having absolutely no clue what he’s referring to.

“I promised myself, I would never lose anything ever again. And that includes you, princess.”

You feel Leon move the muzzle of his pistol away from your chin, causing you to release a sigh of relief, but watch in horror as Leon proceeds to lick the barrel of his gun.

Oh my god, he’s completely lost his mind… as if you had any doubt of that before.

“When you left me, do you have any idea how much that crushed me? Did you even think for one second how that would make me feel, after everything I have done for you?”

Your throat is so dry from the blood running down your throat, but thankfully blood is no longer dripping out of your mouth, however, dry bits of blood coat your lips.

“I-I’m so sorry… I… I had no idea…”

His grip on your hair tightens as he stares down at you, his blue eyes wide and wild for a moment before his expression softens. You are relieved when he lets go of your hair.

“You know what, sweetheart? You’re right. How could you have known?”

He places the pistol on the bedside table before climbing on top of you, kissing you deeply.

“Let Daddy play with you and you can come out of timeout, ok, sweetheart?” 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Leon hated hurting you, but you made it so fucking hard not to when you would constantly misbehave. But truly, how could you have known how deeply scarred he was from that night in Raccoon City? The public had no clue what had happened. They knew the city was sectioned off due to a mystery outbreak and rumors flew around how the government fired missiles at it.

If only people knew the truth.

You nodded at his request, instantly warming his heart, pushing the nightmares away from his mind. He removed the collar off your neck and he made short work of pulling his old Raccoon Police Department shirt off over your head and tossing it aside. His hands latch onto both your breasts, squeezing tight before rubbing both your nipples between his middle fingers and thumbs, causing you to squirm.

He pulls his boxer shorts off you, and he takes a moment to admire your soaked hole. He loved how much your body clearly wanted him. He reaches down, his middle and ring finger slipping inside you easily as his thumb gently rubs circles into your clit.

He watches in delight as you arch your back, moaning loudly as you reach your arms up, gripping the pillow behind your head. He continued to expertly fuck you with his fingers, a smirk overtaking his lips as he watches you clearly enjoying this.

“D-Daddy… please.. Inside!”

“Oh?” he couldn’t help but smile, “you want Daddy inside you now? Oh what a good girl you are!”

He hadn’t heard you ask him to fuck you since you first moved in with him and it absolutely thrills him. Pulling his own shirt off, followed shortly by the rest of his clothing, Leon undresses himself and climbs on top of you, settling his hips between your legs, his cock slipping inside you with ease.

Because you were made just for him.

He moves his hips rhythmically, pushing deep inside you rather than flat out pounding into you. You were being such a good girl for him and he wanted you to enjoy this as much as he was. He looks down at you so lovingly, cupping your face in his hands before kissing you.

He’s immediately taken back to his first date with you. He had taken you to a fancy restaurant in D.C. before you both went and saw a movie together. Afterwards, he dropped you off at your apartment on the other side of town, but you invited him inside. It didn’t take him long to coax your clothes off you and let him have his way with you; just like it didn’t take long for him to convince you to move in with him, that way you were never out of his sight. You were so perfect, and you were the only one that could hold the demons of his past away.

He began to move his hips more aggressively, eliciting more loud moans out of you along with a generous mix of ‘Daddy’ and ‘Leon.’ You drape your arms around his shoulders as he continues to kiss you eagerly.

“Daddy… Pl-Please let me cum…!” you moan into his kiss.

“Of course, my princess, you’ve been such a good girl, Daddy will let you cum.”

You cry out as you cum all over his cock, he can feel your juices coat him as he pushes into you, coming undone himself as he lets out a low growl. He collapses beside you, rubbing your belly as you cuddle into him. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you so much, babygirl,” he says softly, inhaling the scent of your hair.

It doesn’t take long until you are fast asleep in his embrace, it comforted him knowing you felt safe falling asleep in his arms.

He is so happy you are finally starting to give in to him.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You wake up to the sound of Leon climbing out of bed, immediately disgusted at yourself. You had given in to his advances last night, he hated how he could make you feel so good. You rub your eyes before sitting up, watching as Leon gets dressed. You realize you’re still in the timeout room.

“I have to run into town to get a new TV to replace the… one that I shot. Can I trust that you’re going to be a good girl while Daddy’s gone?” Leon asked as he finished putting his clothes on.

“Y-Yeah…” you say, your eyes still heavy-lidded from just waking up.

“Good,” Leon replies, “I brought in your clothes, I had them in the Jeep. They’re in the closet in the bedroom.”

You climb out of bed and follow Leon out of the timeout room and into the master bedroom where he opens the closet door, showing you that your clothes were indeed there.

“Alright, I gotta go, I’ll be back as soon as I can ok?” He kisses your forehead before leaving you in the bedroom.

You don’t move until you hear the front door open, then shut, and then lock. You grab one of your t-shirts with a pair of jeans along with a set of underwear. Once dressed, you walk into the living room and find Leon had already taken care of the very broken TV. You then immediately notice his office door is open.

He had an office in the apartment in D.C., too, but it was never open. Mustering your courage, you slowly approach the office, you see papers scattered all over the desk, you pick them up and read them, most of it government nonsense that you didn’t care to understand. There are drawers in the desk, you open one of them to find a series of files. One of them immediately caught your attention.

It was labeled ‘Raccoon City Incident.’

The manilla folder had a large CLASSIFIED stamp on it but that did not deter your curiosity. The folder is stuffed full of different documents, you quickly glance over them, quickly growing mortified at the contents that you skim through.

Hundreds of thousands infected… viral outbreak… undead… T-Virus… G-Virus… nuclear sterilization…

“What the fuck…?” you say to yourself in complete disbelief over what you were reading, this is some video game bullshit…

Suddenly, a photo fell out from the documents face down. You quickly pick it up and turn it around. You gasp; it’s a photo of Leon. He clearly was a lot younger in this photo, wearing damaged tactical gear that had ‘R.P.D.’ printed on the front. It suddenly occurred to you what the print on Leon’s shirt stood for.

Raccoon Police Department.

Your eyes widen at this revelation as you look back down at the photo. Even though he clearly went through hell, he had a light in his eyes that was nowhere to be seen now, it honestly broke your heart. You put the manilla folder back together and put it back into the drawer with the others. However, there’s another one that catches your eye, this one is labeled ‘Kennedy Report.’

You sit in the office chair as you open the folder, reading through the documents. This one talked about a parasite rather than a virus and how a cult leader had infected an entire village plus the president’s daughter that had gotten kidnapped by the cult and… Leon?!

You had to re-read the sentence a few times to make sure you had read it correctly. Leon was infected with this parasite? You start to wonder if there’s a chance that he was still infected when you read that he and the president’s daughter successfully removed the parasite from each other. You low key hoped he was still infected, it would have at least explained his demeanor. You continue to read the report before you suddenly hear the front door open.

“Sweetie, I’m back!”

“Oh shit!” you say quietly as you carefully put the folder back in the drawer, making sure to close the drawer silently.

You scramble out of the office, making sure to shut the door. Just as you step away from the office door, Leon comes into the living room with the new TV, placing it in the spot where the old TV was and plugging it in.

“There we go, all better!” he says, turning around to look at you, “and there’s my good girl.”

You give him a weak smile as you nod. You can’t help but look at him in a different light, now knowing the darkness of his past that you were almost certain he did not want to you to see.

Part 5

#yandere!leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #there's no escape #gigabyte writes

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 9 months

Text

.⋆｡Make Him Better Looking｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

Truth serum plus hidden feelings and a major amount of lust for your best friend is bound to end well

Warnings: truth serum, reader is hornee, implied smut, size kink, Sam is taller than the reader, explicit thoughts, mutual pining, mentions of a hunt

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Falling in love with Sam had been easy- not only was he stupidly handsome with those big hazel puppy dog eyes and a killer body, but he was kind and he was smart. He loved with his whole soul and would do anything for anyone, even after all the shit he had been through.

What hadn’t been easy, however, was just how horny you got every time you even thought of the giant hunter let alone be around him. If he was tracing lines in a book to keep his place, you thought about what his fingers would feel like inside of you. If he was working out, you wondered if he would make those same noises in bed. And worst of all was when he was talking animatedly about something, his entire body came alive with passion and excitement. His eyes sparkled and his smile was always huge. And yet all you could think about was having his face between your thick thighs, talking into your cunt as he feasted.

Needless to say, you had absolutely destroyed your scant collection of toys and taken more cold showers than warm. Eventually, you had to reach your breaking point.

It had been a witch hunt in Arkansas that went slightly wrong. People all around town were suddenly compelled to tell everyone around them their darkest secrets, ruining their lives in the process. It was a pretty simple cut and dry witch who had some vendetta against liars so she was forcing everyone to tell the truth. You and Jody picked up the hunt as some kind of demented girl’s trip and it mostly went off without a hitch. At least until the witch got you with a truth spell right before the sheriff dropped her.

You had arrived back home with your mouth practically sewn shut in an attempt to keep yourself from telling the boys your innermost thoughts until the spell wore off (which Jody assured you that it would be a couple days at most). Claire and Alex already had their fun asking you questions that you could no longer lie in response to, leading to them learning why there’s a bottle of deluded bleach and air freshener in the back of the Impala and the ‘no tequila after midnight’ rule.

Dean quickly discovered your ailment after you bluntly told him that his new orange flannel and grown out hair made him look like an oversized carrot, and he was determined to break you. But unfortunately for him, you were a hell of a lot smarter than him and could find ways to easily distract him.

You and Dean sat across from each other at the library table, eyes locked to each other as you both desperately tried not to blink. A game born out of desperation not to reveal your darkest secrets and childish rivalry but with a month’s worth of laundry on the line, the game was a matter of life or death. Your eyes burned as you struggled to keep them open but you refused to back down now, especially when Dean’s face had begun to turn red with the strain, you knew he was close to breaking.

Then, disaster struck. Right as his eyelids began to twitch with the need to blink, Sam walked into the library wearing a tight white shirt and grey sweatpants and obviously not wearing briefs. Immediately your mouth went dry as your concentration was broken. You didn’t even hear Dean cheer that he won, you just kept looking at his brother who was now browsing the many shelves for something to read.

Dean rubbed at his eyes while glancing at his younger brother before sarcastically remarking. “Looking good Sammy.” Sam responded with a scoff, returning to his search and letting you get a glimpse of his perky backside.

The words tumbled from your lips before you could stop them, spilling out of your dirty mind like an unstoppable river. “Goddamn, how about you bring that perfect ass over here and I’ll tell you how I can make you look even better.” Everyone froze, including you, and then you opened your mouth again. “You’d look hotter with me sitting on your face.”

Silence settled over the bunker, your veins filled with dread. “Oh god please ignore that I said that- well actually, I don’t want you to ignore it. I really do want to sit on your face but right now I really want to throw myself off a cliff. So I think I’m gonna go do that. Have a nice life boys.” You went to slip from your chair but suddenly your wide hips were pinned to the edge of the table but two huge hands.

Sam loomed over you, his eyes dark with lust as he smirked down at you. “Now why would you go and do that when we could test your little theory.” Your breath caught in your throat. He dipped down, bringing his face to yours until you were close enough to feel his breath on your lips.

“I-“ You stammered. Wetness pooled between your thighs as he stepped even closer, pressing his hardening cock to your soft body.

“Oh what is it baby? Can’t speak anymore? Don’t worry, you won’t be able to stop making sounds when my mouth is on your cunt.” He growled into your ear.

Neither you nor Sam noticed when Dean sprung to his feet and ran off into the depths of the bunker to escape the very obvious tension on the brink of exploding between you. Your fingers tentatively curled into his shirt, making his smile grow. “That’s a good girl, now how about you go to my room and get undressed. I wanna see if you get even more beautiful when you’re on top of me.”

——————

Sam had always found you incredibly intoxicating but even more so now. You were dead asleep on his chest, your breaths even as you slumbered on. Sam took pride in your exhaustion considering he was the cause. He gently stroked the soft skin of your hip, tracing over the texture of your stretch marks delicately as to not wake you.

You sighed in your sleep, nuzzling closer to his bare chest. He kissed the top of your head and with a great amount of care, slipped from your hold. You stirred only for a moment before settling once more. He dressed quietly and slipped out of his room.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen drawing him in like a siren. “Morning.” He muttered as he wandered in, shooting his brother a glance. Dean nodded at him from his place at the small table, drinking his coffee silently.

As Sam poured two mugs of the bitter drink, he spoke again. “She was right, you know.” Dean hummed and looked up at him curiously. “I do look better when she sits on my face.”

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reverphic · 23 days

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♡⠀⠀syn. a wounded blade returns home, and of course like a kindhearted individual you are, you treated his wounds. ♡⠀⠀cw. semi fluff, not proofread, 1.3k words, fem reader ( no prns mentioned ) maybe ooc. a continuation / sequel to the archfiend

the odor of antiseptic wafts thickly through the air, bandages are securely coiled alongside blade, he winces slightly at the sting of the antibacterial ointment poured over the open gash in his arm. a fresh bruise was planted on his forearm, vivid purple swelling proudly.

“i keep telling you to stop stumbling into danger, i’ll be the one responsible afterwards”

blade doesn’t respond, only a miniscule twitch on his brow is perceived. you glanced upwards, descrying your knight’s displeased expression, a tinge of guilt qualms inside your core.

“but those imbeciles are targeting you, how can i let that type of situation slide?” he says.

blade asserts the word imbeciles with every enmity one would have harbored for their worst enemy. you pause abruptly, emitting a sigh. blade is the embodiment of an obsessive lover, for sure, and you do not have the right to substitute that outcome. he is not your lover, naturally, but you are doubtful if blade perceives it that way too.

you knew that blade is head over heels for you, but you have no capability to reciprocate his love, saying that you are impotent in such feelings. he ceased to believe, however, and continues to believe that one day redamancy will eventually present itself.

excluding the pester, you are thankful that he came home safely, although a few scars and a severe wound are intended, at least your soldier is back.

but his abiding adoration with manslaughter — you are the one at fault. if it weren't for him enshrouding his true identity, you would've ended up in the hands of the guards authorities. you have maimed that soldier with vengeance, concocting a blight that costs his unalloyed soul. your madness birthed a demented warrior, that's what you discern at least.

“i will kindly force you once again to stay safe during unwanted combat, understand?”

ironic it was for you to say the word kindly, for it was humiliatingly apparent that you were crossed that blade was injured. it is not a form of romantic love whatsoever, merely a form of that you care regarding his physical condition.

“every combat costs at least a scar, otherwise it doesn’t have the right to be called a combat” he says, crimson eyes pierce through yours.

you declined to respond, however. blade knew you noticed his words, and you were lucid enough to empathize with his desire to convey them. to him, you are fragile, akin to a subdued rain.

he knew you were only honest when the night was hushed; there is a poem latched onto the walls of your throat, and nights like these, sincerity crawls from your flesh, like a scourge, a miasma. if blade is by your side, you never dither to let the viciousness of your words slither down your lips, because he understands you are mourning, mourning what could have been, what will not be, and what you can’t save, thus far you go on hoping.

today was unusual, your lips quiver and are ajar, yet no words seem to leave.

“i don’t want your pity, blade” you upbraided, tethering his arm with another veneer of bandage.

you never wanted to scar blade further, because you were the one who scarred him first.

blade winces, “and why do you say that?”

…how you still, sometimes crave understanding.

rage is something you've learnt to wear. however, blade's anguish folds your spine and resides behind your ribs. you are taken aback by his presence. you’re here? the question remains as a lump on your throat. and now that you think about it, you've never been kind to blade either.

how did he get so close that you have to dissect him out from under your skin?

recollection is a deathbed. remembering is a grave. the recollection of him is like a scab that you keep scratching till it sears. a burn, a keepsake, or something to grasp at that returns the favor.

you refuse to be plagued by anything less.

how have you turned brittle love into such devastation? so much greed? you insisted you didn’t love him, and you never will, yet a sun-sized ache pulsates deep within the bowels of your palpitating heart. the sight of him injured, drenched in mortal blood, in spite of your lusterless eyes deceiving you to neglect his situation, something shifts your perception to extend your arm to embrace his suffering.

terrible, terrible person assumes that tyranny and love are interchangeable.

your heart knew no name more ferociously than his. a passage that burns under your tongue.

you shift from the bedsheets, a packet of bandages still in hand as your heart is burdened by uncertainty. the malice in your tongue will forever be an obscenity, hence why you never spoke truthfully.

“my work is done here, do you crave anything?” you ask as you feign insouciance.

“[name]”

blade’s baritone voice reverberates across the vacant room, where he is seated on the insalubrious bed, tousled and soiled. something fervent exudes down in that icy tone he has. you shiver in fear, a grasp suddenly latches onto your wrist.

“do you need something?” a response slips past your lips.

blade slides his arm as it rings around your waist, fingers gradually lacing with yours. with hesitance and a hitched breath, you stepped forward only for your stomach to be pressed against his broad chest, earning a gasp.

fingertips run over the temples of your forehead, moderate enough to spare you from pain. a steady tenderness soothes you, irises swelled tenfold. the burden surges.

“you’re warm,” he says, his distinctive icy tone slowly thawing.

“why do you worry so much?” you shift back to steer clear of his proximity.

“...”

blade scowls, a crease forming on his eyebrow. your avoidance of his touch riles him, he just misses you, can he not? even if he lends a helping hand, you avoid him regardless. he avows that he has known you well for decades, but the censures hitherto left unsaid leaves him reconsidering that if he sincerely does.

so he hoists you up onto his lap, the facet of his thumb dight your cheek. reluctantly, his face inches closer to you, foreheads swept against each other.

“you have a fever, i’m telling you”

“i don’t.”

“your body temperature is rising, and you look pale”

“...i can take care of myself”

“i doubt that”

“should i repeat myself again?”

blade’s scowl deepens, an obvious expression of worry is omnipresent, which you can’t neglect so easily.

“stop looking at me like that with your pity in your eyes” you exhort with crass inflection. “just… tell me what should i do to make you… feel better, instead of you taking care of me”

amusement laces his grandeur, the shimmer in his crimson eyes vacillates; you admit that the countenance he is wearing right now is hilarious.

“well," he begins with a hum, reaching his hand to the contours of your defined jawline. “kiss me, and i’ll be alright.”

he exchanges a reticent smile, his lips chiseled upward in a way that makes both men and women sigh dreamily.

you heaved a sigh in defeat, acceding. merely for the sake of saving yourself from the headache; otherwise, he would keep pestering you until you gave him a response. he may be pushy when he wants to.

your fingers dug in blade’s underjaw, half-lidded eyes stare into the chasmic depths of his visage, slowly slinking closer.

…ah, this feels strange

warmth burgeoned in blade's chest, flames aflame as you drew in closer, lips brushing contact prudently for the first time. the lingering stench of your fragrance, the sweet, fragrant aroma of your hair, left him lightheaded, as butterflies waltzed in his stomach. but warmth encapsulated him as he slumped into the kiss, your lips unfathomably soft against his.

being able to breathe isn’t supposed to be that hard, especially if you are deep inside a passionate kiss. you shouldn’t comply with blade’s offer, but oh but the insurmountable worth of devotion beckoning inside a kiss that felt loveless.

#hsr x reader #x reader #honkai star rail #blade hsr #blade x you #blade x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #yj⠀﹐⠀‹𝟹

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prettynice8 · 5 months

Text

Kinkmas Day 1: Rimming

Paring: Kakashi Hatake x male reader

This guy

Warnings: Rimming DUH, anal fingering, teasing, slight begging, little bottom twinky fuck me daddy feminine male reader, no actual sex, enemies to lovers? I think that's it

Word Count: 1,307

Fuck him. Fuck his pretty silver hair that I just want to run my hands through while he eats my ass, his muscular form that must have been crafted by the sage of six paths himself, his beautiful attention catching eye, his mysterious mask, his (what I hope is) insanely large dick. Just fuck the whole thing (I wish).

Of course, the only person you could be thinking of is the one and only Kakashi Hatake, copy ninja of the leaf, and the hottest mother fucker to ever exist. Oh god did you have an obsession with him. Having wet dream after wet dream about him, screaming his name while masturbating, and it doesn't help that you catch him staring at you all the time almost as much as he catches you staring at him.

This whole obsession started a month ago when you saw him reading one of his goddamn sex books in the middle of the street. You walked over to him and asked why he was reading erotica in a VERY public place, and he just looked at you "Because it's hot." he stated matter-of-factly. The nerve of some people, from then on you two would see each other walking around, say hi, go your respective ways. It's been that way ever since; stolen glances and fuck me eyes since.

Until now. You were done with man after man not fulfilling you like you think he may be able to, maybe, it's a complete guess but he just gives off the vibe. Anyway, you saw him reading his demented sex shit again when you decided to make your fantasies a reality once and for all. You walk behind the bench he was sitting on and read the words on the page and HOLY SHIT IT'S GAY RIMMING. You mentally scream into the pillow like a 15-year-old girl who just found out her crush is available, which is kind of like what's going on.

"Uhm, can I help you?" Kakashi questions in his horny inducing voice, with a little annoyance sprinkled in through all the underwear wetting.

"Oh sorry, am I disturbing a public jack off sesh." You coldly state with a smirk on your face, hand doing a little masturbation gesture.

"Do you mind." he says rhetorically, the twinge of annoyance from earlier much more noticeable now.

"If you didn't want someone to talk to you then why are you reading 'that' on a public bench in the middle of the street again?" you sassily question.

"Because I wanted to read outside, privately." He answers, you look at him like he's the dumbest man in the whole world.

"Then why, in the absolute fuck, are you reading in the street you attention whore." you rhetorically ask, the previous sass now developed into genuine frustration as you walk around the bench to be right in front of him.

"That's cute coming from you." he chuckles.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you ask.

"Don't act dumb, you have been trying to get into my pants for weeks now." he exclaims, you start to blush, ensuring that what he said is true.

"Don't act so high and mighty with me. I've seen you look at me too bitch." you state. He stands up, his large frame completely dwarfing you, his eyes almost angry. You do a cartoonish and audible gulp, the fear enhancing the horniness.

It's quiet for a while until he leans down,

"And what of it" he whispers in your ear and grabs you ass tightly, not caring if anyone sees. You let out a soft yelp at the sudden sign of attraction. You're completely stunned, not knowing what to do. He realizes this and before you can think any more, he holds you close and grabs your ass tighter and whispers,

"My place." It wasn't even a question or a request, it was a demand. One that even given the choice you wouldn't say no to.

Before you know it you're already on your way to Kakashi's place. He's giving you a piggyback ride to save time, and because he wants that juicy cake as quickly as possible, his mind is going crazy with your legs wrapping around him.

Finally, you make it to his place and immediately you both rush into his room. Right when you both enter you get off his back and onto the bed. Your legs spread as he takes off both your pants and underwear and tosses them both to the side.

"Now, turn around and bend over." already making demands and he hasn't even bought you dinner yet, not that you care because without a single moment of hesitation you are already on your hands and knees.

Without warning he immediately put his long skilled digit into your readily awaiting hole. He moves slowly as he starts to open you up. All the while you let out quiet moans.

"Your little moans are so cute." he said. Suddenly you feel a second finger enter you. He stays at the same excruciatingly slow pace. While he's pumping his fingers, he starts to feel the rest of your ass, rubbing it sensually and squeezing at the sensitive skin.

He puts in the third finger and his speed starts to pick up. Now your moans start to get louder as his three fingers stay at a steady and quick speed. He pumps them in and out over and over with precise repetition.

his fingers start to curl inside you, twisting and turning inside you perfectly. It's at this point that you are officially a moaning mess. The all too familiar feeling churns into your stomach. His fingers start turning and hitting your sweet spot consistently.

Then the feeling of relief washes over you as his fingers twist and hit your spot for the final time. You let out a loud moan and crash into the bed, cumming without even him putting his dick in you.

But he wasn't satisfied with just feeling inside you as he picked you up and brought you to your hands and knees again.

"Not yet sweetheart." he says as he starts to rub and massage your ass cheeks, caressing them to his desire. He gives you a quick and sharp spank, you cry out in pleasure from the surprise as he watches you ass jiggle in awe.

He puts his mask down and licks your ass, putting small and harmless love bites from time to time. Each lick and bite getting closer and closer to your hole. You start begging him to just devour you already. "Please, god I've fantasized about this please." you cry out, wanting, no, craving for his tongue.

"Well since you asked so nicely." he calmly states, though you can tell the excitement in his voice, aware that he wants this too. He licks lines on your cheek until FINALLY taking small licks on your entrance. Your spine chills in anticipation and pleasure and your breathing becomes shaky.

He licks languid circles on your entrance slowly. His hands are still caressing the rest of your ass. Your legs are shaking due to the stimulation and your cock is as hard as can be. He stops his simple licking and finally puts his tongue in your ass.

It starts off slowly but develops quickly into a fast pace, his tongue going in and out of you. You are now officially a moaning mess as his tongue is assaulting your hole. He continues this and then starts to put his fingers back in your hole while his mouth is still doing its job.

The familiar feeling in your stomach starts to build up again as his talented hands and mouth works on your asshole. Your moans crescendo until finally you climax for the second time of the night.

And you're not done yet.

THE END

#naruto #naruto x reader smut #naruto x reader #naruto x male reader #naruto x male reader smut #x reader #x male reader #anime x reader #x male reader smut #x reader smut #anime x reader smut #anime x male reader smut #kakashi #kakashi smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi x male reader smut #kakashi x male reader #kakashi x reader smut

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brookiewriting · 5 months

Note

ahhhh if you wanted to could you do a finnick fic where the reader was in the blood rain during the quarter quell and finnick helps her calm down and clean up kind of like what katniss did for wiress? I'm thinking pre-existing relationship. thank you!!!

CLICKS

finnick odair.

summary : you get separated from finnick and he finds you covered in blood.

note : my first request omg!! i'm literally so bad at writing pre-existing relationships... like. it's embarrassing! but i tried my best for a good midground. also, catching fire is the only book i've read once so let's ignore any none canon compliant details 🤔😛 peeta and katniss don't exist lololol.

word count : 1,538

you couldn't believe you were in this damn game again. after sleepless nights, panic attacks, and flashbacks from the arena, you figured, at the end of the day, you'd at least never have to go back.

you were very wrong. at first, you thought it was some cruel joke. of course, snow was demented enough to do something like this, and the quarter quells weren't known for being easy, but seriously? throwing the victor's in again was crazy. inhumane.

even though your name was drawn days ago, you could still feel the silent eyes on the back of your head as you made your way to the stage. hushed whispers and concerned expressions. you remembered feeling even worse than the first time you went in. this time, instead of the feeling of hope amongst the people in your district, you could sense in their pained eyes that they didn't think you'd come back a second time. honestly, you didn't think you would either.

maybe it would better this year. this year you had finnick. but alliances only get you so far in this game.

☾ ☾ ☾

finnick got separated from you almost immediately. you were frozen as the voice echoed from above the arena.

"let the seventy fifth hunger games begin. may the odds ever be in your favor."

it seemed like everyone was quick to move to the center where the weapons were. your eyes darted frantically around at all the victors next to you. you watched finnick's golden curls disappearing into the water. closing your eyes for a moment, you counted to ten in your head, and you did what you did in your first games. you ran.

you were, thankfully, quick enough to pick through the remains of the weapons, and were able to get your hands on pretty decent throwing knifes. once you secured them to the band around your waist, you scanned the arena. "finnick!" you called out, hoping the blonde boy could hear his name over the cries and screams of victors fighting each other.

no reply. god, please don't be dead already. please keep my finnick safe. you repeated over and over, sucking in your bottom lip and biting it to the point where dew drops of blood formed and the taste of metal filled your senses. it was so overpowering that you couldn't think. your brain was shutting down.

you prayed and prayed that finnick was smarter than to get into a fight right away. there was nothing to do but hope that he swam away and was hiding somewhere.

you cried out his name again, and again there was silence. so you had to do what you had to do to survive, and that was run away. there was a forest clearing not far from the starting circle. right. that's where i should go.

the forest was already murky and nearly dark, and you let out an exhausted sigh. the games had just begun but you were exhausted, terrified, and hungry. all while you were having flashbacks of your first games. your shaking hands were holding on tightly to the hilt of your knives, the cold metal allowing you to focus your senses on something other than y'know— your inevitable death.

one positive thing that you learned from your previous games was that you were stealthy. your feet were light on the dirt and you made sure to leave multiple tracks so no one could follow you. this year you knew you had to outsmart everyone. you had an advantage by being quiet. maybe you could hide throughout the whole game.

that worked for a while. it was quiet in the clearing, no sounds of struggling and the screams from the center had died down quite a bit. but you couldn't find cover anywhere. it seemed like you were just doing circles, repeating and seeing the same tree over and over again. by the next hour, you made sure to walk as slow as possible to save your stamina.

you heard the sound of a shrill scream, definitely from a woman. and then came the downpour.

the rain wasn't normal rain. of course it wasn't, it was snow for fuck's sake. the rain was thick. it landed in chunks rather than individual drops. it took you a moment to realize that this rain was blood.

you looked down at your shaking hands, the maroon of the blood staining your skin. that's disgusting. it smelt like the metallic scent of pig's blood you'd smell walking past the farms in your district. the blood rain made your skin, hair and clothes feel heavy and sticky. and after a bit, your eyes started to sting, vision blurry as you tried your best to outrun it.

i can't see anything. i'm going to break my damn ankle. you thought, using your hand as a barricade against the rain. it was no use. as your sight got worse, your hearing improved, and for a second, you heard the sounds of running water.

and someone clicking their tongue in that familiar pattern.

☾ ☾ ☾

finnick's hands were on your shoulders, dragging you away from the crowd of victors waiting for their interview with caeser flickerman.

"jesus, finnick. can you be gentle?"

your voice was condescending, but were smiling though, your hands tugging at the bottom of your dress. you were met with a frown. those sea green eyes of his looked grey. something was wrong.

"this'll be my only chance to speak with you before the games. i need you to listen, alright?"

it was weird seeing finnick this serious. during all of his interviews and talks before this, it seemed like he wasn't even taking this game serious. like he thought he'd already won. or that he didn't care if he died.

"i can't call out for you in the arena. you can't be seen with me. we'll be too small of an alliance and we'll get killed. do you understand?"

his hands were gently shaking you out of your dazed state and you swallowed, nodding slowly. it sounded like he didn't want to be in an alliance with you. yeah, sure, you weren't the top ranked tribute, or even the smartest, but you thought district's were supposed to stick together, right?

finnick must have read the confusion on your furrowed brows, his grip loosening from your shoulders. his smile was back, the cresent shaped dimples indenting onto his cheeks. you wanted to trace them with your hands. to have his face remember the gentle curves of your touch.

"don't give me that look." he spoke finally, breaking the painful silence that drifted between you two.

"i don't understand."

"listen for my whistle. it'll let you know that i'm close by."

he made a clicking noise similar to a birds call and you bit your tongue to stiffle your laugh.

☾ ☾ ☾

you may have been laughing then, but you weren't now, the clicking bringing temporary relief to the throbbing pain in your eyes and head. you repeated the click, your lips dry.

with your eyes barely able to open, you were able to make it to the sandy riverbank.

"y/n? god, who's blood— i thought you were— there's people—"

you could hear finnick's panicked voice in segments, and you sighed in relief. his hand took yours and together you sat in the water. the first place you both cleaned blood off of was your face.

finally being able to see him again, you burst into a bright smile and tackled hugged him. finnick hugged back, being slightly knocked over into the creek, his hand holding the small of your back. when you pulled away, his hands were still holding your sides as if you were about to float away.

"your whistle! i heard it! oh my god, finn, there was blood. but not any blood, it was raining blood! can you believe that? snow is a sick—"

finnick shut you up quickly by holding both sides of your face and pulling you into a quick kiss. it made your cheeks hot and in any other situation maybe this

"i thought you died." he repeated, and for some reason you felt guilty for leaving him. you should've fought with him. he could've died too. the concern in his eyes was enough to make your heart hurt. "hey, i thought you died too." you protested, sighing in defiance. his hands were on your cheeks now, gently cupping water to wash away the blood stains. finnick didn't respond, but the small smile he gave you while looking down made your cheeks warm.

"what are we going to do?" you ask him, and it's clear that he doesn't know himself. his thumb reaches out across your forehead. he really wished he knew. he couldn't imagine coming back to district four without you.

he's still quiet, just enjoying your presence, and the soft feverish touches between you two. "i have no idea, sweetheart." finnick adds, and there's a hint of amusement in his tone. he can't let you panic without a reason, and he just wants you to relax, at least for now. your fingers gently reach out and brush across the cuts on his temple and you frown.

"we'll be alright, though. i'll keep you safe."

#the hunger games #finnick odair #finnick x reader

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