#notifications turned off cause I have push notifs for this blog

[ramp-it-up]

Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the fourth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

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Previous part here

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Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.

Then, he took control.

He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.

Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.

“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”

You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.

“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”

Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 

“Hm.” 

Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 

“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”

Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.

“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”

Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.

“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”

Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 

“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”

You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.

“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”

Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.

“You want me to fuck you raw…?”

You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”

The expression on his face was priceless.

“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”

He looked as if he would devour you.

An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.

“Fuck, Sy!”

His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.

You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.

Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 

“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”

He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.

Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 

This was a long time in coming.

“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”

Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.

“Kiss me, Sy.”

He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.

You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.

“Sy…please…”

“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”

He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.

“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”

He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 

“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”

He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.

“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”

“S-Yyyyyyy!”

Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.

“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”

His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.

“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”

Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.

“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”

“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”

You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.

He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.

He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 

‘I want that,’ you thought.

Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.

“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”

You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.

“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”

He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.

“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”

Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”

You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.

“You good? Want me to…”

He made to pull out and then you implored him.

“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”

You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.

“More, please.”

“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 

He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 

“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”

Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.

As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.

“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”

As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.

“More…”

You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 

Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.

“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”

“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”

It had never been like this before. With anyone.

Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.

Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.

He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.

Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.

Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.

“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  

He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.

“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”

“Unh! Sy…”

You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.

Sy read the look on your face.

“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”

Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.

“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”

You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.

Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.

“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”

He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 

Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.

“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”

He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.

“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”

You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.

“Oh…. no….” 

You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.

“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”

Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.

“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”

Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.

Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.

“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”

“Sy-”

“Shhhh, Buttercup.”

Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.

“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”

He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”

You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.

“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”

He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.

“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”

He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.

You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.

You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.

“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”

That grin would do you in.

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

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[precious-little-bhaalbabe]

Owlbear Cub: “You smell very delicious, but I will not bite you, because you are my friend :>”

My good Durge, crying: “He’s just like me fr. He’s everything I strive to be.”

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 durge #bg3 owlbear cub #bg3 dark urge #baldur's gate iii #babblestar #baldurs gate dark urge #durge #dark urge #bg3 the dark urge #the dark urge #baldurs gate iii #notifications turned off cause I have push notifs for this blog #but pinned so I can still check the notes when I want #glad this one resonated with everyone

[assassinsblade]

Arrows and Ashes | 3

Azriel's determined to help you get better. You are determined that you are fine.

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, injuries, fluff, some brief unhealthy coping, self-deprecation.

a/n: If you would like notifications for my writing, you can turn on notifications for the blog @assassinslibrary where I reblog all my fics!

Part 1 Part 2

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Azriel couldn't sleep. All night, he stayed by your side, watching your back rise and fall with each breath. He counted them, making sure you were getting enough air, that you were alive and well. And when that didn’t quell the pounding of his heart and the trembling of his hands, he moved closer and listened for the air leaving your lungs and the heartbeat in your chest.

He tried to read to pass the time, picking up the book he had brought in from your bedroom. But the words refused to sink into his brain, and he found himself unable to focus on anything other than you.

Any time his eyes wavered from your form, anxiety pooled in his chest. His eyelids had even become heavy with sleep, but he forced them open again, his shadows swirling around him in irritation.

He realized while sitting in silence that this was the first time you had been in his bedroom for more than a few minutes. He had known you for centuries, since he had been a child, yet he kept his room very private. You would enter occasionally when dropping something off to him, calling him down for dinner, needing to tell him something, or asking him to accompany you somewhere. But spending a longer amount of time together? Normally that occurred outside of either of your bedrooms.

Now, as you laid in his bed, your hair fanned out on the pillow, Azriel couldn’t help but feel like you were meant to be there. You occupied this space like it was your own, despite the aesthetic contrasting so deeply with your vibrant personality. It made something warm pool in his chest, a feeling that reminded him of coming home after a mission or falling asleep after a long day. A feeling he had pushed down until the past few days. One he had tried to ignore out of fear.

A soft groan pulled him out of his thoughts, and he immediately sat up straighter, his heart faltering.

You started to roll over to face away from the wall, your body moving toward him instead. But Azriel jumped to his feet, laying his hands gently on your arm to keep you from turning onto your back.

“Don’t move too much.”

His voice came out as a whisper, as if the volume could pierce you and cause you more pain.

“Azriel?”

“It’s me,” he clarified, scarred fingers stroking soft circles on your bicep. “I’m here.”

You swallowed, and he could feel your body start to tremble beneath his touch. Adrenaline shakes, he surmised -- your body still recovering from the pain and trauma it suddenly endured.

“You don’t have to say anything. You’re in my room, you’re safe. You’ve just been resting.”

Blinking as if trying to orient yourself, you tried to turn again. His strong hands kept you in place.

“Could you-“ you coughed lightly. “Could you help me turn? I want to see you.”

One of his hands moved beneath your knees and the other cradled your back, just beneath your wounds. He lifted you from the bed slightly, moving your body toward him before releasing your legs and encouraging you to turn on your right side to face him, keeping pressure off your back.

When he finally released his hands, his hazel eyes stared into your own.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey,” he spoke softly in return. His fingers gently moved your hair behind your ear.

Your eyes traced his face in silence before you finally moved your gaze away from him, noting where you were.

“Your bed is cozy.”

Azriel had to control his facial expression so as not to reveal his confusion and concern. That was the first thing you thought upon waking?

He gave you a soft smile instead. “Can I get you anything?”

You shook your head, burying yourself further into the blankets. “No, I’m okay.”

There was no way.

But you didn't elaborate and seemed content enough to stay laying there in silence, no acknowledgement of the life-altering event that had occurred to you.

Azriel didn’t like this at all. He had expected you to wake up in pain, whimpering, asking for him or Cassian or Rhys. For you to have been in a panic over your wings, sobbing and mourning them. He had been prepared to comfort you and hold you and explain how you were safe and that those males had been torn to pieces for hurting you.

But you were acting like nothing had even happened.

It was unnerving, and the shadowsinger for once had no read on the situation.

He eyed you carefully. “I’m going to have to change your bandages in a bit.”

You stiffened, your body tensing at his words before relaxing, your eyes feigning nonchalance.

“Later,” you challenged, closing your eyes again. “Is everyone coming for dinner?”

Azriel couldn’t mask his uncertainty over the situation, his brows furrowed and fingers twitching at his sides. “I’m not sure. Are you hungry?”

“You know I’d never turn down something sweet. Do we have any of those chocolate croissants from our cafe?”

“I’ll check. If not, I’ll have Rhys bring you some.”

You smiled, and he stood from where he was sitting by your form, looking at you one last time before crossing the threshold into the hallway so he can check for something to appease your unexpected sweet tooth.

Your entire behavior was unexpected. You wanted to eat. You were smiling. Not at all hinting at the trauma you had been through.

Azriel’s job was to inflict torture onto those in the dungeons (among other tasks). He knew the trauma it caused — the pain, the nightmares, the way it would permanently break some fae. He wasn’t sure if what had happened had not caught up to you yet, if you were in shock still, or if you were pretending to be okay, unwilling to show weakness in front of him.

Both possibilities made something twist in his stomach.

He forced his feet to move away from where you curled up in bed, shutting the door softly behind him and making his way to the kitchen. It was empty still, save for the bundles of daisies Rhys had dropped off at Azriel’s request. The high lord hadn’t questioned the order for the flowers, only leaving a note with them that said they all love you.

The two large bouquets looked silly now to the shadowsinger. Of course, he was hoping they would make you happy based on your past joy from flowers, but with everything that happened? They seemed so small in comparison.

He shook the thoughts from his head, instead looking around the counters and cabinets for any sign of your favorite treats. When he found none, he wrote a letter to Rhys seeing if he could deliver some of those chocolate croissants per your request. Once the high lord knew you were awake, he would probably do just about anything you asked.

Azriel sighed in defeat, bringing one of the bouqets back to the room with him so he wasn’t empty-handed.

He paused outside of the door, trying to settle his nerves. His shadows only swirled around him in agitation, and he tried to soothe them back to his sides. Only when he went to shush them, though, did he realize why they were unsettled.

A quiet whimper sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a sniffle and a small choked sob.

Azriel immediately opened the door, not hesitating to knock or make sure you were decent. His eyes scanned the room hurriedly, noting the tossed blankets on his bed and the light spilling from the bathroom.

He walked into the entryway, body instinctually turning toward your presence, guiding him toward the cracked door on the left. You shouldn’t be out of bed without assistance, and he definitely didn’t want you to be in there crying alone. He quickly placed the flowers on the desk next to the door before he peered into the open doorway, eyes immediately drawn to your red rimmed ones. You weren’t looking at him, though. Your eyes were turned over your bare shoulder, looking at the reflection of your back in the mirror.

Your back. Azriel's stomach dropped at the sight.

He hadn’t seen it all cleaned up without the bandages yet. It was still somehow just as gruesome as when it was splayed open and bloody on that table.

The wounds were large. Crescent-shaped and still healing. They were deep, gouged into the skin, and anyone else would look at them and call them ugly, an eye-sore, a blemish marking what would have been beautiful skin. Not Azriel, though. Never Azriel. Not when he still ran his own fingers along his scarred palms when nervous.

He slowly inched the door open further, the movement catching your eye and causing you to quickly turn your back to him, your arms crossing to cover your bare chest.

It was silent, your startled eyes searching his own for some sort of reaction. Did you expect him to be disgusted by your? By your scars?

In a way, he was. He didn't think you were disgusting in any way, but the act that was committed against you, the pain you had gone through in those moments, Cassian's memories still flashing in his mind -- that was what disgusted him.

You swallowed, and Azriel was moving before you could say something. He walked around you in a way that was cautious but attempting to be casual as to not put you on edge. He didn't face your back right away, especially as he felt you stiffen as he passed your side, and instead reached toward the counter where one of Madja's creams sat.

Unscrewing the lid, he finally made his presence known close behind you, pausing to let you breathe through your nerves before gently moving the hair that had fallen back over your shoulder. You shivered at the movement, but you didn't flee. You didn't tell him no.

So he gently dipped his fingers into the medicine, bringing it carefully up to the first of your wounds, still red and angry and glaring at him as if he were an enemy. He so very gently covered one edge with the white substance. You flinched at the feeling but still said nothing, so he continued, holding his breath and waiting for you to either lash out or break down.

Neither came though.

You stood still as can be, letting him apply the cream and dress your wounds, even taking the wrap from him and around your front to help hold the gauze in place. When he finally finished, he pulled your hair back from where it laid over your shoulder, letting it flow beautifully down your back, no longer suffocating the space by your neck. Then he walked back around to your front, meeting your gaze immediately and refusing to let it go.

Azriel tried to read what you were thinking, what you were feeling. But you only blinked away the remaining tears as if you were breaking out of a stupor.

You stood up taller, putting a faux smile on your face. "No chocolate croissants? I'm disappointed, Shadowsinger. You know Cassian wouldn't have returned without them."

A sharp pain twisted in his chest at your deflection, at your so obvious false display of contentment.

"Daisy-" he started, voice low and quiet.

"Why don't we go pick some up? You can use your shadows to get us to the gate right?"

"Daisy-"

You made your way toward the door, stumbling and moving slowly with your body's new imbalance and soreness. "Then you can go see everyone else. You shouldn't have to babysit-"

"Daisy."

You halted at his tone. The strong, demanding voice filled with such concern and care.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

He couldn't see your face, but he could almost picture your haunted look as you took a moment to collect yourself, your voice shaking when you finally spoke.

"Do what?"

"Pretend." He sighed. "You don't have to pretend with me."

Taking a deep breath, you shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I just want you to feel what you need to feel. You have been through a lot, and it's not good for you to just pretend like it didn't happen."

He walked closer to you, approaching you from behind, but you whirled around before he could get too close, gripping the doorway to stop yourself from stumbling.

"Of course I can't pretend like nothing happened. My wings are gone, Azriel. They are gone. My back feels like its been shredded -- like someone took me down to the butcher in Velaris to play with. And every day I will see those scars, feel those scars. I will watch as Rhys, Cassian, and you all fly, and I will forever be grounded. I will never again feel the wind in my hair or leap from the balcony. My body is changed; half of who I am has been taken from me, so I'm sorry if I don't know who I'm supposed to be after that."

By the end of your outburst, you were breathing heavy, choking on sobs that threatened to come up. Azriel watched as you swayed, your still healing and exhausted body needing rest, and he stepped closer.

"You aren't supposed to be anyone," he started, tears filling his own eyes. "You will always be Daisy, no one can take that away."

When he reached where you were standing, you shook your head, backing up into the bedroom as tears began to fall down your cheeks.

"You don't understand-"

"You're right. I could never understand. But I still want to help. Let me help, please."

"You can't help me. You can't go back in time or reattach my wings. I’m no longer me, I’m ruined.”

Azriel lunged forward at your words, propelled by something deep in his chest to correct you, to defend the sweet girl in front of him. His eyes were wild with hurt as he grasped your face between his palms, guiding your teary eyes to his own.

“Don’t you dare say that. You are the same girl who walked out of this house days ago. You are strong and brave and selfless, and everything you have lost is proof of that. You are not ruined, you are everything.”

You only looked at him, lip quivering as you tried to listen to him and hold back your sobs.

You shook your head slightly. “I’ll never be able to fly with you again.”

“I’ll take you.” Azriel vowed, voice deep and resolute. “I will carry you wherever you’d like.”

“I can’t even walk balanced-”

“My shadows will help support you while you recover. I will help support you.”

You looked away from him, tears filling your eyes once again. The words that came next were small, insecure. "No one will want me like this."

It took Azriel a few seconds to realize what you meant, because he could never dream of not wanting you. They all had trauma and nightmares, but you were referencing your scars, your forever-marked body. Madja had been able to close the wounds, but the worst ones had scarred. The lashings that had become infected in those dungeons had scarred. Only days ago you had been scar free save for a few. Not, you had hills and valleys of rough textured skin on your back, abdomen, thighs...

And you were the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Every scar a testament to your love and devotion to your family, a testament to your strength. He wanted more than just you, he wanted to worship you. He wanted to lay you down and cater to your every need, to massage and kiss every inch of your healing body, to show you just how beautiful he found you.

He swallowed, passion and an overwhelming amount of love filling his chest. It nearly ached. He directed you to look at him again. Nearly commanded it with his grip on you.

"I want you. In every form, in every life, in every universe. You are everything."

His words were strong, confident, and warm. He was pleading with you to believe him, to see and hear the truth that was right there.

You looked at him, studied him. Azriel knew your teary eyes were watching closely for a crack in his resolute stance. You would find none, though.

Eventually you sniffed, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as you asked in a sweet but broken voice, "What if your mate had these faults?"

Azriel didn't even have time to be shocked at the question, because he was immediately retaliating against your self-deprecation. "They are not faults. They are a part of you, of your story, and of your selflessness. They encompass so much of your beautiful heart in them, they could never be a fault."

The insinuation made him angry, but he tried to tamp down those feelings. You needed reassurance, not a reprimand.

You didn't even flinch at his response. Instead, you held his gaze and tried to cover the meekness making its way into your voice by standing up straighter. Azriel held you firm, steadying your balance with his shadows and his own feet against yours.

"And you'd still be saying this? If it was your mate?"

He was surprised the question didn't have that much of an effect on him. Anyone else bringing up mates normally had him tensing, snapping, getting defensive and changing the subject. From you though, It was comforting. Natural.

"Especially if it was my mate. But they would be able to feel all of this from me too. I would make sure they always knew they were wanted. I'd tell them everyday how beautiful they are, I'd get them sweet foods to make them feel better, I'd surprise them with flowers..."

As if the words summoned your eyes to them, he saw you see the giant bouquet of daisies sitting on his desk by the door. Your eyes widened slightly, your brows furrowing and chest rising a bit more rapidly. Azriel tightened his grip on you to steady you further.

He tilted his head to bring your gaze back to his own. "You are wanted, Daisy. I loved you before this, and I love you now. I will continue to love you always. Because you are you."

His words cracked something within you, because the next thing he knew, he was catching your weight against him. Your cheek pressed against his chest and your arms wrapped around his back, and then you were letting out such a heart-wrenching sob that Azriel immediately held you as tight as he could. He wished he could take all of the pain away, all of the haunting memories and nightmares. Any threats or fears, he vowed to fight them for you. Do anything until a smile was back on your pretty face.

"I want you too. I love you too," you mumbled into his chest.

It was only a few minutes before your sniffs subsided, and you pulled back with red splotchy cheeks and swollen eyes, skin wet with tears. Azriel cleared the hair from your face, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"You're my mate."

The words were so quiet, Azriel almost missed them.

But he couldn't. How could he? Mate, you had said. Him.

He was shocked enough at the acknowledgement of a physical bond between the two of you that he probably looked absurd, but he wasn't that shocked at the Cauldron deeming you two well-suited. After all, he had cared for you as more than a friend for months now, even if he had tried not to acknowledge it in fear of rejection.

He breathed, allowing his love for you to fill his veins, fill his very heart and soul. And then he met your sparkling eyes, still slightly watery from minutes prior.

And he felt it.

Deep within his chest, it's presence slowly becoming more prominent, was a golden thread. A tether that thrummed inside of him and brought him to you. A tug nearly sent him reeling.

"Your mate," was all he said.

"Yes," you whispered, still a little sniffly. "And I'm yours."

He let out a wet, happy chuckle, tears beginning to coat his own cheeks.

"You're mine," he repeated.

He made sure you were stable before grasping your face in his hands once again, bringing his lips to your cheek, then your forehead, then your other cheek, then your nose, and then your lips. He peppered them all over your face and arms, over the lacerations. He let the warmth in his chest take over and sing a song he had never known. The song escaped his lips in the form of kisses, in the form of I love you, my beautiful Daisy, and I'm so glad you're safe.

Only once he had regained control of his actions, he let his forehead rest on your own.

"You're mine," he said once again. "My everything."

And he knew you felt it.

#writing #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel fluff

[chaotic-mystery]

Pairing: dbf!Joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Summary: You kissed Joel after you had that terrible fight with your dad and you have no idea what Joel’s thinking now. Did you just ruin everything or will he finally admit he likes you just as much as you do him? What about Michelle?

Content warnings: my blog is 18+ so mdni! Eventual smut, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his 40s) dads best friend, enemies to lovers, slow burn, infidelity, family issues and daddy issues, talks about emotionally absent parent and effects it has, reader not feeling good enough for someone to love them, talks of healthy father daughter relationships, as well as a brief mention of being drunk. Let me know if I’ve missed anything!

|| wc: 4.2k || notif blog @chaoticnotifs || I love u ||

Within a few short moments, Joel was pushing you off him, his breaths shallow and the look on his face was already telling you something before his words did. “Darlin’, I-” He started, and he sighs deeply, great.

“Baby, I think you’re a little drunk. We can talk about this tomorrow, okay? Cmon, let’s getcha inside and get some sleep, lord knows you need it after all that cryin’. His hand smooths down his jeans over his thigh while his other hand takes yours gently, giving it a slight shake. You were sober as one could be but there was no more fight in you to argue, especially not with him.

“Yeah, probably right. Thanks for today, Joel. I appreciate it, more than you’ll ever know.” A soft smile grew on your lips before climbing out of his truck, walking to your front door. You wanted to turn around so badly and follow him into his house to his room, climb into his bed and just be held by him. Instead, you were faced with your cold, empty bed you dreaded laying in because Joel wasn’t there. It didn’t even dawn on you about Michelle until you noticed the last clean shirt you had with the bar logo on it that was hanging in your closet. The last you knew he wasn’t really with Michelle, more so on a break after everything at White Pony.

All night you tossed and turned, constantly looking out your window to Joel’s bedroom window who had a lamp on each time you glanced over. Your dreams were flooded with him, he suddenly consumed your every thought, awake or asleep. He was haunting you, the ghost of his fingertips on your skin, the way his soft lips felt on yours before he pushed you away. To be in the truck again and do it over, to kiss him longer and touch him, feel his skin and how his strong hands felt around your waist, to sit on his lap and just have him hold you right against his chest until he was content.

–

“Sarah cmon, you’re gonna be late, girl!” Joel shouts from the porch and you're awake, eyes fluttering open slowly to look at the ceiling. Sarah climbed out of who you assumed was her mother’s car and shut the passenger side door, running up the sidewalk.

Dad, stop! I’m coming, don’t eat all the pancakes!” Her giggle echoes between your houses and up your window, causing you to smile subconsciously.

Joel went inside before she made it to the porch, and her laugh got quieter as she shut the front door behind her. Soon enough it was quiet once more and you were left alone with yourself. Before you left to come back to Texas, one of your good friends mentioned to you about journaling and how healing it can be for you. With every intention of making it work, you started to dig through your drawers to find the little dyed green leather journal you got from the book store. It’s been through a lot, the way the pages are wrinkled from when it fell in the bathtub one night, some of the corners burnt from sitting next to an open candle flame for too long. Everything on its pages are things from being a kid you’re trying to process, doodles, everything you wish you could say to your dad. Journaling was sometimes helpful but most of the time it left you feeling empty.

If you didn’t harbor the feelings inside and constantly think about it, what were you supposed to feel? Is it normal to feel this empty on a day to day basis and was that something you really looked forward to? You sighed and tugged on your hoodie and pants, walking out into the hall to go downstairs and start your day with a cup of coffee. Ever since Joel watched you make coffee once at work, he hasn’t let up since. Every time he sees you with a travel cup he asks if it's hot or iced, knowing what the answer will be and he’s disappointed every single time.

With your glass almost empty by now and four pages scribbled on, you finally felt comfortable to stop. It was almost like you blacked out writing, not really sure what exactly you wrote down but it brought you that same empty feeling once more so that must’ve meant you were done for the day. A knock on your door takes you from zoning out and you’re met with Joel’s face, a plate of pancakes, and a glass of orange juice.

“Before you start, the orange juice was Sarah’s idea. I know you hate eating breakfast when you first wake up so I figured you’d nibble on these until you’re hungry enough to eat them normally.” His small smile makes your heart skip a beat and you reach out to grab the plate from him, along with the orange juice and you take a small sip, tipping the glass to him with a nod.

“Give Sarah my thanks, yeah?” The awkward silence was killing you and you were hoping he’d bring up last night. He just shoves his hand in his pocket and clears his throat, looking around at the neighbors homes as Joel racks his brain on what to say.

“Joel I-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Darlin’ it’s fine, you were drunk. We’ve all been there before.”

You groaned in annoyance and walked to the kitchen island with the front door wide open, signaling him to follow.

You leaned your ass against the counter top and folded your arms across your chest, glancing out the window above the sink to the left of you. “I wasn’t drunk, okay? I was perfectly sober. I wanted to kiss you, I’ve thought about it a lot and it was something I wanted. I’m sorry if you didn’t feel the same way. I know you’re with Michelle and I know she doesn’t trust me around you and I just gave her all the proof she needs to keep thinking that.” You were rambling out of nervousness and he just stood there and listened, his hands were on his hips while he looked at the floor. The bundle of anxiety was growing in the pit of your stomach and you were worried you just fucked everything up even more by bringing up Michelle.

“I-I just…I needed to know what it’s like to kiss you, Joel. I’m sor-”

“Honey, jus’ stop,...’kay? First of all, Michelle not trusting you isn’t because of you, it’s because she caught me one too many times checkin’ on you at work and she didn’t like it. You are a smart, funny, sarcastic woman and you’re beautiful but baby, you’re so much younger than me, not to mention my best buddy's daughter. This would never work, you and I.” Joel barely whispers the last part of his sentence and his shoulders drop, eyes finally meeting yours. The same rejected feeling crept up and bit you in the ass once more, a common feeling for you from almost every person you’ve met in your life.

“Not to mention you slept with Tommy, couldn’t do that to him.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, shaking your head at Joel. “Oh suddenly you and Tommy care who you share and pass around between the two of you? That’s really rich, Joel, considering he dropped that little nugget about you two tag teaming a girl while his drunk ass had to come get yanked out of my bed?”

Joel’s jaw clenched together and his nostrils flared slightly, the anger in him rising the more you called him out.

“Be careful if you’re gonna run your mouth about shit you don’t know.” The look on his face gave you a slight jumpstart to your heart and excitement in your tummy. He’s sexy when he’s angry but telling him that right now would only make him even more upset.

“So are you saying if I didn’t sleep with Tommy, wasn’t my dad’s daughter, and about twelve years older, I’d have a shot with you?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and walk over to him slowly with your arms behind your back, trying to look innocent.

Joel however, sees right through your bullshit and chuckles at your attempts to get more answers from him. “Did I say that?” He cocks his head to one side and watches you get close until you stop right in front of him.

“I might be reading between the lines, but oh well. Was I at least a good kisser?” You smirk at him and see the sparkle in his eye, Joel tries to fight back the corners of his lips from curling upwards.

“Why is it so easy for you to piss me off and then you wanna be sweet? You’re a damn sour patch kid.” The annoyance in his tone was only masking the laugh he was containing.

“That doesn’t tell me if I was a good kisser or not, Mr.Miller.” You grab the collar of his flannel and fix it so it laid flat and Joel’s breath hitched when you brushed against his skin.

Joel cracks his fingers in nervousness and hesitates before answering quietly, “I don’t remember, honestly. It was short.”

“Aw, is the age catching up to you, old man?” You tease, batting your eyelashes up at him.

Gently but firm enough to feel it, Joel’s hands meet your hips and squeeze firmly as he leans in, lips ghosting over yours. Now it’s your turn to have your breath hitch and the nervousness bubbled in your stomach.

His eyes close for just a moment before he grumbles,”Yeah I bet you wanna kiss me again. Does it get you all excited, baby? Kissin an older man like me when you’re not ‘sposed to?” He pulls back, standing up straight this time with the evilest grin on his face.

Joel could see you panicking to find an answer, an excuse, something. Without waiting for your answer, he turns on the heel of his boot and heads for the door, leaving you speechless and heart racing in the middle of your kitchen.

“What’s wrong sweet girl, cat got your tongue?” The door was shut before you could come up with a smart ass response to retort. Even worse than a cat having your tongue, Joel Miller had your tongue. If he wants to play this game with you, he’d soon be figuring out how much better at it you were than him. With the warm plate of pancakes calling your name from the marble counter behind you, you pulled back foil and watched the small amount of steam roll up into thin air.

Tearing into the fluffy pancakes, you rip a piece off and put it in your mouth, the butter soaked into the layers but still present. It was good at first and it had been a long time since you had a homemade breakfast. Before you can understand what’s happening, your fingers grip quickly and pull apart piece after piece and shove it in your cheeks as you close your eyes and feel the tears sting. To be cared for by a man who’s old enough to be your dad but isn’t your dad will always be hard for you. Why was it so easy for them to do kind things for you without a second thought but it was like pulling teeth for your own blood? For just a second you felt the jealousy of never having what Sarah and Joel have, that connection and inseparableness of father and daughter. The hot tears fall down your cheeks as your arms drop, no more soft pancake shoved in between your teeth as your brows furrowed in sorrow… anger, confusion…jealousy. It was almost as if a switch flipped and you were yanked out of your dark mindset over a kind gesture from your neighbor.

You grab a napkin from the holder in the middle of the counter and quickly spit out the mush, your vision so blurry and fuzzy from the tears. Your home was quiet with only the fridge buzzing softly and your runny nose sniffling subconsciously. Cold fingers wrap around the orange juice and you bring it to your slightly puffy post-cry lips, taking a small sip and letting the tangy liquid roll down your esophagus. You try to swallow your feelings and bury them deep inside once more to hide away the things you don’t dare talk about with anyone.

What little bit of jealousy still inside you causes you to push the plate away from the end of the counter, groaning in frustration at the meltdown you thought you had controlled.

~

Weeks go by and you haven’t heard much from Joel. His truck was gone when you got up early in the mornings trying to find a new job and his driveway was still empty by the time you were going to bed. Not a single phone call returned to you from him, your red landline phone he made fun of you for buying at a garage sale hardly rang unless it was someone trying to sell fake insurance. Thanksgiving came and went and it was like nothing happened between you and your dad, or at least no one brought it up when you gathered with the rest of your family at his house. They were all surprised to see you since you left years ago with your mother and never visited for the holidays but no one wanted to ruin the day of pretending you were a big happy family. The only people you called while you were away were your grandparents. They were like your best friends, always knew what was going on with you and they wanted better than what you got, they even knew their son made many mistakes when it came to the way he parented you. Even at your age now you still need them how you did as a little girl, clinging to their side when you felt overwhelmed by all the people swarming you asking millions of questions while you’re trying to get a plate of food. You sat in the corner in an uncomfortable chair while you ate your food but all you could seem to think about was Joel, where he was or who he was with, was he even celebrating today? He was probably with Michelle and her family, talking away about how great she is to her parents while the reality was that she was still upset with him over Halloween. They were just like your family, everyone pretending to be something they weren’t. Luckily it went okay without anything bad happening this time but there was still Christmas to come.

With the holiday just passing a couple days ago and still no sign of Joel, you decide to call him just to check up on him. Three rings into the call and you were praying to the universe he didn’t answer, not because you didn’t want him to be okay but you didn’t even know what to say if he did pick up. Just as the fourth ring starts, Joel’s deep voice fills your ear canals.

“H-hello?” He sounds confused at first but then it fades to irritation quickly.

“Joel..? Hey..” You stutter out as you shove the red handset into the crook of your shoulder and ear while you fiddle with the cord.

“What do ya want, kid? Somethin’ wrong?” You can hear muffled voices behind him but all you can focus on is Joel and the way his voice sounds like velvet over the phone.

“N-no, no nothing wrong I just..” your voice wavers for a moment and something inside your mind tells you to be honest with him even if it’ll blow up in your face. “...I miss you..and you left without saying a word…was it something I did-” You stop yourself from babbling on and cut the risk of looking even more dumb to him. Joel’s end was consumed by the muffled voices and laughter, a door being shut silenced the noise and it was just you and Joel.

“It’s kinda hard to talk right now, honey. I went with Michelle to her parents in Kansas for Thanksgiving. You didn’t do anything wrong. I'm just trying to get all of this sorted out, okay? You gotta remember I’ve been with her for a long time and it’s not just somethin’ I can just leave out of the blue.” Joel sighs deeply and your heart starts to get heavy inside your body, the phone cord tangled in your fingers.

“Okay, sorry for bothering you. Have fun and have a safe drive back, guess I’ll still be here waiting for you.” It wasn’t your goal to get annoyed with him but this was how you coped. You’d shut down as soon as something bad was happening and acted like it didn’t hurt. Like it didn’t make you want to curl into a ball of embarrassment when he didn’t say he missed you back. Before he could respond you hung up on him and unplugged the phone line from the handset so he couldn’t call back, not that he even would.

With the kitchen clock reading almost nine o'clock at night and your head in a mess, you figured it was more than needed for you to go to bed. Your bedroom window seemed so incomplete with the safe sight of Joel’s lamp lighting up the window it sat in. Before getting into bed you thought you’d feel better if you put on the Wizard of Oz, your favorite childhood movie. Tucking yourself right between your pile of blankets and pillows, you laid there watching the house spin and spin in the tornado but you couldn’t resist not looking over at Joel’s house every two minutes like he’d suddenly be back and throwing rocks at your window like those corny rom coms. Even imagining it seemed too crazy, you and Joel could never be like that. The ruby shoes were sparkling on your eyes as your lids got heavy and you were asleep within seconds, dreaming of Joel once again.

You wake up hours later to the DVD menu on loop and your front door being pounded on. With your heart racing you look out your window and see Joel’s truck in the driveway with the engine still running, driver's side door wide open. You wrap the throw blanket around your shoulders and practically run down the stairs to look through the peephole. A messy haired, sweaty, disheveled Joel was leaning against the door waiting on you to answer. Swinging open the front door, he yanks back the screen door that was separating you two and stepped inside, grabbing your face and walking you backwards.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin’? You unplug your phone after throwin’ a tantrum and I can’t call you back, don’t know what’s goin’ on with you?!” Joel’s voice rattled you even though it was caring, it was still coated in frustration.

“I’m sorry I went to bed, I meant to plug it back in I’m- I’m sorry..” You look at his face and it dawns on you just how freaked out he was. He drove ten hours straight just to come see if you were okay.

“What did you think I was gonna do? Hang up and just go about my time in Kansas not knowing what happened to you? Bein’ a goddamn brat making’ it hard for me to get in touch with you.” Joel’s jaw clenches as his hands tighten on your face. His eyes haven’t relaxed yet and it’s almost like he’s searching in yours to find some truth to your actions, to find some reason.

You were speechless at him. Every time he did something it surprised you even more that someone cares about you that much to go the mile for you.

“Did you really drive all night to come back and check on me?” The hint of excitement in your voice makes Joel roll his eyes and a small smirk grow on his face. His face finally softens and he pulls you against him with his hands rubbing your back.

“Of course you wanna hear me say I drove ten hours just for you, crazy brat. Don’t ever do that to me again, understood?” Joels scruff softly brushes against your ear and you finally feel safe again, even if your relationship was up in the air.

“Would you maybe wanna stay with me, just until I fall asleep?” It kind of came out of your mouth before you thought about it but there was no more hesitating.

“I can, yeah. Let me go shut off my truck and I’ll be back in a second.” He kisses your forehead softly and walks back outside to his driveway, pulling his keys out of the ignition and locking the door. His black suitcase rolls against the pavement behind him on the walk back to your house. The sun would soon be up and shining through the tree branches but you had a hard time accepting this wasn’t a dream. He leaves his suitcase by the door and sits on the couch, sighing as he gets comfortable. Joel’s eyes watch you closely as you walk back to him with a water bottle directed to him to grab.

“Just try to be quiet when you leave, okay?” You mutter as you lay your head on his lap while tugging the blanket over you as you curl into a ball like a cat. Joel chuckles and rubs his chin slightly as he adjusts and gets comfortable with the pillow behind his head. It came as no surprise to yourself that you were already preparing for the heartbreak you’d eventually have to feel when he left while you’re fast asleep no matter how much you tried to enjoy Joel being there in the moment.

“I’ll try my hardest, baby girl.” He teases, softly running his fingernails against your scalp. Joel’s breathing slows to soft snores that fill the living room, the only sound that was audible as the sun came up and soon drowned the room in warm rays.

Joel’s watch on his left hand read just a little after eleven and the house was still, your light snores getting his attention as he rubs his eyes of sleepiness. You looked so peaceful to him and he didn’t want to leave you just yet.

He grabs onto your shoulder and shakes you awake gently, brushing the hair out of your face that fell during your nap.

“I’m starving and I know you don’t have enough food here to feed the both of us. Cmon, let’s go eat…I’ll buy.” Joel was trying to bribe you and you hated that it was working. You sit up and look at him with barely opened eyes.

“Really?”

Joel stands up to stretch and his midriff is exposed by his shirt, causing your eyes to glance at the skin you hadn’t seen until now.

“My offer is good for another thirty seconds, clock is tickin’.” The playfulness in his voice makes you grin and you grab your house keys from the bowl of clutter near the front door. Your head nods towards his truck and he strolls outside, shaking his head at your outfit.

“You really gonna wear that? Don’t think the waitress would take too kindly to a shirt that says, “Cougars” with a heart…” His fingers pinch the fabric and he lets go, a small indent left on the shoulder piece.

While you both buckle in, Joel looks around for anything you could use to cover what he thought was a god awful shirt. He tosses a black hoodie at you to wear and you begrudgingly tug it on when you notice his company’s logo on the back.

“There’s nothing wrong with showing cougars love, Joel. Would you rather it say dad’s best friend?” You can see his eyebrow raise as he cocks his head slightly to glance over at you.

“Don’t push it.” He mutters and starts to head to the diner.

You both decide on a booth and look over the menu before ordering and Joel sips his coffee, taking in the strong notes of the blend to prepare clearing his throat.

“So uh- think it’s pretty obvious I can’t leave you alone no matter how hard I try. I need to get some stuff sorted out but I’m really not trying to string you along, kid.” His brown eyes flick up to meet yours and he extends out his hand to grab your arm across the worn table.

“I know I just…I hate not knowing if you’re with Michelle or not. We need to be careful around everyone, ya know- pretend that we still hate each other..” You lead on and cough slightly at the hand laying on your arm.

Joel nods understandingly, knowing exactly where you’re coming from.

“No, I’m not with-“

“Michelle, hi!” You finish his sentence as your eyes meet her piercing stare as she stands behind Joel. Her arms were crossed and nostrils flared, not understanding entirely what she walked in on.

“Michelle..”

fuck.

#joel miller x reader #code red #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller #dbf joel miller x f reader #joel miller x f!reader #no y/n #tw daddy issues #tw drinking #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller pedro pascal #joel hbo #hbo tlou #hbo the last of us #no outbreak!joel miller #dbf!joel miller #dbf! joel miller #dbf joel miller #dbf!joel fluff #dbf!joel #chaotic mystery

[chloeangelic]

addressing the drama (with receipts)

I wanted to have my ducks in a row before speaking out instead of just responding; I’m not doing this to change anyone’s opinions - it’s really not possible change someone’s perception of me even if it’s based on falsehoods - but I need to do this so I know I’ve said and shown what needs to be shown, and people can do with it what they please. 

To the readers and writers who have blocked me, unfollowed me, and mutuals who have stopped talking to me over this - I’m really, really sad you didn’t come to me first and give me the opportunity to explain what was going on. I understand if you wanted to distance yourself from drama but I also need you to understand that this was not discourse-drama I willingly got myself into. This was a month of frequent harassment and slander that eventually turned into bullying by a group of people using false info, hiding behind side blogs and anons, and I hoped it would blow over but it never seemed to stop. With anons turned off for most of the last two months, people have gone to my friends’ inboxes instead to harass them about me (and insult them in the process), and I can’t do this anymore.

I feel so alienated and disliked in this community that I can’t go on the dash without feeling like I shouldn’t interact with anyone out of fear that they’ll get uncomfortable seeing me in their notifs. People keep saying they want the community to get better and then they jump on the bandwagon of vague posting and RBing without taking a second to verify the claims, clearly not realizing how much hurt it causes to perpetuate it. If you’re reading this, I  hope your name isn't the next one they pull out of the hat when they want someone new to push off the platform. 

Explanations, timelines and receipts below. 

-

For anyone waiting for an explanation regarding the posts and anons about me that have circulated for weeks, or waiting for receipts proving or disproving that I’m a mean girl who spends my time talking shit, here you go. I am so beyond hurt, I don’t even know what to say. I’m floored, I’m so disappointed in this community and I’m so sad. In the last two weeks, I stayed up until 4am one night receiving screenshots of posts and anons about me, I cried, I tried to understand why this has happened to me, and I have sat here day after day with no answers. 

If you think I’m being melodramatic, try losing a quarter of your mutuals and having a bunch of people block you when you’ve had either no interaction with them or they’ve all been positive, and see how that feels, on top of constant rumors about you being a terrible person when you know you’ve barely had any negative interactions with anyone on the platform. I can’t be on tumblr any longer without exonerating myself and putting it out there that all of this has been one gigantic mess based on lies about me, seemingly compounded by grievances people have against Gracie (some one whose personal conversations have nothing to do with me). Either I do this, or I log out forever and only post on ao3, cause I feel like the fucking grim reaper here. Posts about me being an awful person are still circulating, despite the original post being deleted and the follow up stating that the OP has talked to me and they have apologized.

I’m not naming names in this. I will be using person A/B/C/D to make it less confusing. I’ve removed identifying information from the screenshots because even though I’m hurt by these people, I know that they will get dogpiled and harassed if I identify them, and I want it all to stop. Several have apologized to me and I have accepted. 

Sometime in December, rumors started circulating that there was a “big/elite writers discord” where they talked shit about small writers (I’m not in any discords specifically for writers and I have never heard of such a server). At about the same time, person A - someone who was very active in my own, now-deleted discord server, started frequently vagueposting about me, calling me a mean girl and, intentionally or not, made it seem like I was part of this “elite group of writers”. This is someone who I have never had a negative interaction with and who seemingly out of nowhere decided that I call myself elite and I’m a terrible person. 

Person B had some grievances with myself, Iris, and Gracie it seemed, so they went to person C and accused us of talking shit in our voice chats. I assume person A and B have talked about me at some point and validated each other’s claims, but I can't know that for sure. Person B messaged me from a burner account and apologized, then seemingly deleted the account after I responded.

Gracie frequently posted about us three chatting, and although I understand this might have felt alienating to some, many writers are open about having group chats with each other. All we did was write, edit, and Gracie sometimes made memes. We talked about non-fic stuff often, and when Gracie had an issue with other writers and she was upset, we talked about it. That’s what friends do. She knows that I believe those situations were handled poorly. One of those situations came to light recently - I had a very pleasant conversation with the writer involved, and we are still in touch.

I have spoken to person C, who posted the most “popular” smear post about me and some of my friends. They retracted their statements and profusely apologized to us, admitting it was based on stuff they heard from person B, showing me screenshots of the conversation. However, their original posts are still circulating through reblogs despite being deleted from their account. 

Person D also posted about me and my friends, however their post was sort of ridiculous, accusing me of spending more time replying to anons than writing. I found this funny, but the way they slut shamed my friend was absolutely not humorous, and dragging a random writer in to criticize them was a strange attempt at adding fuel to the fire. 

-

And for the receipts, 

I blocked person A after seeing a handful of vague posts clearly about me, and after they interacted with every single rude anon posted about me that I saw. I think that’s reasonable, no? I’m not gonna post screenshots of their posts cause I honestly just don’t want to look at them again, they make me feel kind of sick if I'm honest, but if anyone doesn’t believe me, they are welcome to DM me and I will send. 

Person B messaged me, admitted to partaking in this mess, and apologized. This is part of a LONG message:

Person C apologized over message and called me on discord. We had a conversation clearing things up, they deleted their posts and wrote a public apology. 

If you need any proof that person B’s claims were, in fact, baseless, look at this exchange between person B and person C after person C had cleared things up with me.

Person D honestly just creeps me out, cause what the fuck is this? Fine if you don’t like me based on my writing or my persona on here but… Why the witch hunt? 

ETA: Person C asked person D to take down their post and they never responded. This was sent prior to that, I know the full context, I just thought this specific part was worth sharing to show how vile some people allow themselves to be behind burner accounts.

What kind of behavior is this? This was from a sideblog, and I don't know what their main account is. It creeps me the fuck out knowing this person is lurking somewhere in the community.

I have hated every moment of this. None of this has been fun for me. This has completely fucked up my motivation to write and my enjoyment of it, it has made me anxious, it has messed with my self esteem, and it has made me want to log out of Tumblr and not come back. 

Please, I beg, if you have an issue with me, just come to me and I promise I will have a conversation with you. You can’t tell people’s tone over anon and I don’t think that’s a good way to have a conversation, especially one about something that should be solved in private, so they remain off, but my DM’s are open. 

I'm so sick of seeing vagueposts and trying to decipher if they're about me. Having to do that a bunch of times messes with your head.

I'm not sure what to do moving forward, but I needed to say my piece. I don't want to talk about this again, I want to put this behind me. I seriously hope this doesn't wreck my last remaining want to share my writing on here.

Thanks again to everywhere who has supported me in my DMs and comments, you mean the world to me 🤍🤍🤍 And if you found yourself duped by all this but change your opinion on me now or eventually, I won't hold a grudge, and I'm happy to speak again and pick up where we left off.

[daaydreamy]

clumsy

summary: after a fun night out, y/n and harry didn’t realize they were being watched. 

warnings: coarse language, sexual themes

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

Harry Styles and his girlfriend, Y/N, seen being very handsy in public!

As soon as Y/N turned off her alarm that she forgot she still had on, annoyed that she was woken up so goddamn early (it was about eleven in the morning already) after the night before, she couldn’t help but check her notifications. She opened Twitter, which was a mistake immediately, because she saw Harry’s name trending. She clicked on the hashtag and her eyes widened slightly when she saw pictures of them from afar when Harry was against the wall of some place with her hands all over him. 

She scrolled down, reading all of the tweets and seeing many people freaking out, glancing at Harry who was still sound asleep (and very naked). She found an article that was posted about them, reading through it very briefly and taking a good look at the pictures that had been taken of them, biting the inside of her cheek softly as she tried to hold back a smile, but she couldn’t, and let her lips tug up at the corners a little. 

“I cannot believe you.” Y/N laughed softly amidst all the kisses she and Harry were sharing, slipping the tips of her fingers into the waistband of his pants a little. Harry could only smile and gently push her hands away, making her pout as she pressed her forehead against his. 

Harry, being a little tipsy, giggled and said, “They’ll see.”

“Then I’ll show them, yeah? Make them all jealous that they can’t have you.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Harry threw his head back against the wall behind him lightly as he laughed, and Y/N took that as a chance to press her lips against his neck, smiling gently against his skin when she heard his breath hitch quietly. Harry had his eyes closed, and for once, he didn’t want to open them and look around for paparazzi and fans, he wanted to indulge in that feeling, he wanted to feel like he and Y/N were the only ones there. 

“Fuck, stop it.” Harry laughed airily again when she suddenly snuck her hands in the back of his pants, snapping the waistband of the soft light pink panties she had so nicely gifted him before they went out for the night. 

Y/N turned her phone off and placed it down on the nightstand. She looked over at Harry’s sleeping form, watching his nose twitch a little, like a bunny, before he shifted a little closer to her, sleeping peacefully. 

a/n: clumsy cause i’m fallin’ in love!

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @theroosterswife24, @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie

#sub!harry #subrry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #sub!harry x soft dom!reader #soft dom!reader #soft dom!y/n #sub!harry x dom!reader #dom!reader #dom!y/n #writing #Spotify

[flightlessangelwings]

“soft kisses while cuddling in bed”

Steven Grant x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 613

Warnings- fluff, cuddles in bed, established relationship, just overall sweetness

Notes- Request by anon for my 4k follower drabbles! Thank you so much, anon I loved writing this cause Steven deserves all the loves!!!

Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

The sun hit Steven’s face and he grumbled softly. For the first time in he couldn't say how long, he felt rested and refreshed. He woke up at peace. He woke up… happy. Steven let out a contented sigh as he felt your warm weight against his body as you still slept soundly.

You buried your head in his chest as you slept, and Steven couldn’t help but admire you. He traced his fingertips along the side of your face gently so as to not wake you up. In your sleep, you sighed contently under his touch and Steven couldn’t help but smile.

He leaned forward and placed a feather light kiss on the top of your head. His lips lingered against your scalp as he took in your scent and warmth. Steven whispered soft nothings to your sleeping form as you breathed slowly and deeply in his arms. 

Feeling the emotions emanating from Steven, you groaned softly as you came back from dreamland. Before you were even fully awake, you smiled against his bare chest as you felt him pour his affections onto you. Not a bad way to wake up.

You smiled against his chest as you peppered soft kisses on his skin, “Morning, Steven,” you murmured.

“Morning, love,” his voice was still low from sleep but Steven still held you tightly. 

The warmth of the blankets was nothing compared to the warmth from Steven’s love. You laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he continued to cover you in soft kisses. You could have easily fallen back asleep like this, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to be away from him, separated by your individual dreamlands any longer. You wanted to spend every moment you could with Steven. 

With a louder groan, you reluctantly pushed yourself off Steven’s chest and readjusted yourself in the bed. You wiggled your way up to rest your head next to his, and immediately Steven kissed your closed eyes gently.

“I could get used to this,” you whispered as you draped your arm over his waist and nestled yourself comfortably. 

Steven laughed softly, “So could I, love,” he trailed his hand up your bare arm and cupped your chin, tilting you up towards his lips, “I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time,” he confessed.

You exhaled deeply, but before you could reply, Steven’s lips met yours in a soft yet heated kiss. His soft lips lingered on yours as he let go of your chin and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

Immediately, you deepened the kiss, parting your lips for him and inviting him in. Just like he opened up and invited you into his home, his bed, you invited him into your body, your soul, your heart. And it was a choice neither of you regretted.

Passions ignited as the kiss deepened and you tasted Steven on your tongue. Both you moaned into each other as you clung desperately. The kiss stayed more slow and lazy even in the heated neediness. Neither of you were in a hurry, and you just savored the taste and feeling of the other.

When you finally had to break away for air, you broke the comfortable silence, “Do we have to get up now?”

Steven let out a soft chuckle, “No we don’t,” he caressed your face as he placed another soft kiss on your forehead, “Let’s stay in bed for a while.”

You smiled contently as you kissed the tip of Steven’s nose, “Sounds good to me,” you replied as you made yourself comfortable in his arms as he showered you with kisses.

#steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #steven grant imagine #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant fluff #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight x y/n #moon knight imagine #moon knight fic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #oscar isaac #oscar isaac character fic #oscar issac characters #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Emergency Contact

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Leave me something - or let me out. I'm starving. Push me, pull me. Waiting for the start of:

Things that I want, this happily ever after. You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster. Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.

Summary:

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you're both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it's very stubborn on both your parts.

Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

Word Count: 10,400

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).

sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.

mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.

A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It's a newer song, and it's one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone's emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.

This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don't have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

...

If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd. 

The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits? 

But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off. 

If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for. 

It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least. 

Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you. 

… 

You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him. 

He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive. 

When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up. 

“Who are your friends?” He asked. 

As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice. 

It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes. 

“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed. 

“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question. 

“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience. 

“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand. 

“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang. 

He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear. 

“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement. 

“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.” 

You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time. 

“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh. 

“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason. 

This left you confused. But you didn’t question it. 

“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained. 

“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self. 

“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face. 

“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded. 

Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked. 

“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of. 

Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again. 

“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?” 

It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish. 

Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about. 

“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit. 

It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you. 

“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact. 

“No way.” You scoffed. 

“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.

“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together. 

“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity. 

“I am.” Dick said firmly. 

“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips. 

“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said. 

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit. 

You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words. 

He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer. 

“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-” 

“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.” 

Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air. 

“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was. 

Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours. 

“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so. 

It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by. 

His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it. 

When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment. 

“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked. 

You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him. 

“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink. 

You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle. 

When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you. 

Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him. 

… 

When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging. 

Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick. 

You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts. 

Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?��. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock. 

Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting. 

When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs. 

You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him. 

You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun. 

When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages. 

You had no clue that you’d end up living together. 

When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall. 

You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional. 

You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean. 

… 

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.” 

“Shut up.” 

The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended. 

You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments. 

Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him. 

You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words. 

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes. 

He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies. 

“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.” 

He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words. 

“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.” 

He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face. 

“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.” 

He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail. 

“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?” 

He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear. 

“How many times did you cum thinking about me?” 

“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him. 

“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed. 

Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both. 

In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that. 

… 

You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind. 

It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day. 

The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex. 

Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up. 

You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up. 

… 

It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you. 

When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile. 

You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl. 

“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle. 

“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.” 

You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box. 

“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs. 

You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead. 

“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.” 

You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee. 

“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.” 

Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans. 

“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’” 

It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others. 

“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’” 

But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock. 

But you would never admit that he was right. 

“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won. 

But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that. 

Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you. 

You just glared, and he smirked once more. 

When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done. 

“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed. 

“I know.” You grinned at him. 

He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you. 

… 

Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice. 

Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him. 

But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will. 

When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong. 

You went through the stages of grief like a rocket. 

Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.

Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval? 

Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you? 

Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn. 

And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it. 

So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed. 

You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done. 

And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.  

… 

Hectic. 

That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower. 

Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up. 

Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal. 

But you weren’t truly worried about any of that. 

Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision. 

Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason. 

The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him. 

The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner. 

After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection. 

You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened. 

So you took the leap. 

You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door. 

A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you. 

His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him. 

“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight. 

“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.” 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life. 

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.” 

It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects. 

He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired. 

You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you. 

“You’re hurt.” He said quietly. 

He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself. 

“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own. 

It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair. 

Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt. 

“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you. 

Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now. 

Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over. 

“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.” 

That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury. 

“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence. 

Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you. 

“You need this treated.” He added on. 

No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly. 

“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.” 

“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.” 

The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound. 

“Jason-” 

You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you. 

But of course, he cut you off. 

“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore. 

He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites. 

You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion. 

But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him. 

Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.

“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you. 

He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it. 

“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm. 

It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed. 

You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it. 

But, no dice. 

The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to. 

It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse. 

Jason sighed through his nose. 

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?” 

Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you. 

When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.

This was quiet, and calm, and gentle. 

When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound. 

His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it. 

“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?” 

It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind. 

“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.” 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you. 

… 

Dick explicitly told you to stay put. 

They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader. 

Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him. 

You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Jason!” 

You screamed out his name, you leapt forward. 

Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started. 

Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.) 

Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side. 

At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason. 

His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass. 

You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen. 

Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him. 

Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you. 

You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt. 

Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once. 

“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists. 

The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety. 

Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding. 

Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off. 

… 

You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant. 

“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk. 

It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you. 

It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke. 

You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time. 

“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.” 

It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them. 

You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him. 

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.” 

There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line. 

‘Maybe I just have to care.’ 

Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it. 

After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable. 

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.” 

There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning. 

You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze. 

‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’ 

The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely. 

“It’s nothing.” You told him. 

You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from. 

Jason shook his head at this statement. 

He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it. 

When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain. 

After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes. 

“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply. 

You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it. 

Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble. 

Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize. 

There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident. 

Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth. 

“I meant what I said.” You told him. 

At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened. 

He didn’t find any. 

You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound. 

… 

The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could. 

When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street. 

Panic flooded you. 

You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately. 

“Don’t move!” He shouted. 

“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back. 

Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason. 

Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes. 

He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him. 

When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him. 

“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die. 

There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him. 

His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart. 

“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.” 

You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning. 

He thought he was a dead weight to your life. 

“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!” 

You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you. 

“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully. 

You ignored him. 

You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting. 

“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!” 

“You have to let go.”

Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him. 

But of course, you refused. 

“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.” 

As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more. 

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of. 

He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned. 

So Jason did what he had to do. 

He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip. 

“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-” 

You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself. 

You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely. 

You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground. 

… 

If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him. 

When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat. 

You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it. 

“All done.” He said quietly. 

You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place. 

“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you. 

You felt your heart sink. 

In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there. 

You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave. 

It was something else. 

It had to be something else. 

Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you. 

He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours. 

And now he was trying to back down from that. 

You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.

The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first. 

In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey. 

You were both so vulnerable. 

Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed. 

If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that. 

He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things. 

As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask. 

You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you. 

You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly. 

You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe. 

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through. 

He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you. 

“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin. 

He knew that it would break him. 

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him. 

Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought. 

You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you. 

“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was. 

“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat. 

Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you. 

You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible. 

“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.” 

You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back. 

“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.” 

Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen. 

“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips. 

Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once. 

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body. 

He would never be perfect - but he was yours.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, so if you saw this fic posted on there, it is my fic. Please do not accusing me of plagiarising fics if you see this, because this is my own fic. This is my new blog. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

#sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x gn!reader #titans #dc titans #dc titans x reader #dc fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

[viking-raider]

Birthday Boy

Summary: It's the morning of Henry's birthday, and it couldn't be any better, than waking up in bed, with you in his arms. But you have other plans in mind. Messy plans!

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning: NC-17 - SMUT, Oral (F and M receiving), Language, Teasing, Use of Food Products, Light fingering, Suggestive Dom Elements (both sides), Cotton Candy Fluff, Shower sex (P in V), Foreplay

Inspiration: Happy Birthday to the Cavill man!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

You giggled, feeling Henry press his body against you, nuzzling his face into the back of your shoulder, neck and hair. He moaned softly, rubbing his stiff, morning wood against your butt with an even louder moan, and curved his large body around you.

“Morning, Birthday boy.” You hummed, pressing your back against his chest.

“Good morning.” He replied, smiling against the top of your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses all over your skin. “And thank you very much.” He chuckled, nibbling on the skin of your neck.

“I invoke the right of first present.” You blurted out, before Henry could.

Henry pulled away from your neck, pushing you down onto your back to look into your eyes. “That's not fair!” He grinned, with outraged amusement, that you were calling upon a small tradition you both had started on the first birthday you both shared together. “It's my birthday!”

“Well, you should have said it first, then.” You replied, smugly. “Huh?”

“Yeah, I should have.” He nodded, pressing his lips together, then kissed you. “All right, what is my first present then, my love?” He asked, his hand dipping under the blankets to draw lazy, but suggestive, circles over your belly.

You beamed at him. “Cake.” You said, patting him on the cheek, then got out of bed. “Stay there!”

“Cake—in bed!” He shouted after you, caught off guard. “This early in the morning!”

You laughed, hearing his shouts as you made it down the stairs. “Silly boy!” You chuckled, yanking open the fridge, scanning the contains for a moment, before two plastic bottles and one aluminum can popped into your focus and you grinned. “Perfect!” You giggled, snapping them up, before starting back for the bedroom, but stopped, going into the pantry to grab one more item, then returned to Henry.

“That does not look like a birthday cake.” Henry commented, as you set a bottle of chocolate and caramel sauce down on his nightstand, with a can of whip cream. “And that's for my birthday cake.” He said, pointing to the thing of chocolate fudge cake frosting.

“We can buy another one.” You chuckled, stripping off the shirt you were wearing, then tugged the blankets off of Henry, grinning at the actor's naked glory.

Good think he slept in his birthday suit!

“All right, but still, where's that actual cake, babe?” He asked, frowning at you as he pushed himself up a little bit to sit against the headboard.

You grinned at him, climbing into bed and straddled his waist, resting your hands against his chest. “You're the cake, Puppy.” You answered, wiggling your clothed pussy against his still hard member.

“Oh, dear lord.” Henry husked, a moan rumbling in his chest, allowing you to feel the vibration of it under your palms. “We're going to get our sheets so messy.” He said, breathily.

“Are you rejecting my present, Henry Cavill?” You asked, sitting back, so you sat on his thighs, denying his cock any source of contact.

“No, no!” Henry shook his head, hands shooting out to your hips, wanting to pull you back into place. “Of course not, love. I'm just saying the sheets are going to get ruined, is all. Not that I really fucking care cause...” He let out a heavy and hot breath, blue eyes roaming down your mostly nude body with a needy and hungry gaze.

“Good, I'm glad. I'll wash the sheets and if they don't come out, I'll just get us new ones, because I don't care either.” You said, sliding back into place, making Henry groan and buck against you. “All I care about is my birthday boy, on his birthday.” You cooed, rubbing your hands up and down his chest.

Henry hummed, grinning, his hands rubbing up your hips and sides, feeling giddy about whatever was about to happen.

You cast your eyes towards the nightstand and surveyed your selection of items, before picking up the frosting and pulled off the lid, peeling away the silver, protective seal and tossed both onto the nightstand. Dipping a finger into the thick and creamy icing, you scooped out a moderate amount, before setting the container aside, smirking at the intent and interested expression in Henry's eyes, the curiosity of what you were going to do with the sweet substance. You licked your lips, then slowly parted them and put your coated finger inside, pursing your lips around your digit, cleaning the frosting off of it, but holding it on your tongue.

Watching Henry gulp as you did this, you leaned forward and kissed him, sharing the sweet treat with him as you deepened it, nibbling on his bottom lip a little bit. Henry moaned, savoring the taste of the fudge-y chocolate mixed with the taste of your mouth was like an explosion on his taste-buds. He reached out as you started to pull away, breaking the kiss, but you pushed his hands away, chuckling at him and shaking your head.

“There's more to come, birthday boy, don't get greedy now, when your present has just started.” You cooed at him, picking up the bottle of caramel sauce and popping the cap.

You bit the inside of your lip, eyeing Henry's broad and muscular torso, before tipping the bottle upside down, a stream of rich, light brown syrup flowed out directly onto Henry's chest, causing him to hiss and jerk as the cold caramel touched his warm skin.

“Are you really?” He laughed, grinning and watching you draw a circle around his left nipple.

“Oh, it's not like we weren't going to take a shower after we get out of bed, baby boy.” You laughed, making one more circle around his left nipple, before moving over to his right and doing the same thing, followed by a line down between his pecs and a spiral around his navel.

“You want some?” You asked, holding up the bottle to him.

Henry opened his mouth in response, and you squeezed some of the caramel sauce inside, chuckling as he hummed, swallowing it down and smacking his lips. Picking up the chocolate sauce, you quickly doodled something over his nipples, making yourself giggle at the three and nine, and Henry roll his eyes. Scooting down a little bit, you stared at Henry's stomach, your breath and his body heat warming the cold and sticky sauce, your eyes flickered up to Henry's, seeing his chest rise and fall quickly, his blue eyes so dark, you couldn't find the speck of brown in them anymore, his lips were parted and his breathing was audible.

You felt your panties grow damp as you lowered your head, tongue darting out for the first line of caramel, feeling the muscles beneath his skin flex and tense as you started to slowly lick at the sweet lane, moaning softly. Letting your eyes fall shut, you blindly followed the avenue of caramel around Henry's navel and up, between his hard-earned abs to his pectoral muscles. Diverting to the side, you were careful to avoid the chocolate, as you cleaned up the caramel, then did the same with the left side. With the first swirl of your tongue as you followed the bottom hump of the three on his right nipple, you drew out the deepest moan from Henry, his hands flying out, one tangling in the back of your hair and the other tangling in the sheet on the bed. You chuckled against his skin, smiling as you rolled your head with the final lick, to finish off the rest of the chocolate number, knowing full well, that Henry Cavill's nipples were one of his most sensitive and receptive body parts.

“You like that, baby?” You purred, raising your head and licking your lips, a sultry look in your eyes as you shifted over to the chocolate-y nine on his left pectoral.

Henry gulped thickly, nodding his head, unable to speak for a moment. “Yeah—yeah, babe.” He panted, pressing his head back into his pillow, a light sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead, plastering the sleep mussed curls there to his flushed skin. “Sweet Jesus!” He cried, as you slowly and lightly licked off the last of the chocolate sauce.

“The skill of that tongue is both delightful and sinful.” He gasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Thank you.” You replied, smiling proudly, then pulled away, patting him gently on his sticky and wet chest. “Oh, you're so hard, Puppy.” You cooed at him, rubbing your soaked panties down on his cock, getting the fabric even more wet with the droplets of pre-cum weeping from his purple tip.

“What kind of birthday cake is it, if you don't blow out the candle?”

“That is quite literally the cheesiest thing I have ever fucking heard in my life!” Henry laughed, shaking his head at you.

“But so true.” You purred, sitting on his thighs again and wrapping a hand around his candle. “Hmm.” You purse your lips and reach out for the bottle of chocolate again. “While your cock tastes absolutely fabulous on its own.” You complimented him, smirking devilishly. “Everything tastes better with chocolate.” You giggled, drizzling some of the deep brown sauce over his impressive length, then with an even more devilish giggle, you topped it off with a generous amount of reddi-wip.

Henry watched with huge eyes as you eased his adorned cock into your mouth, humming softly as you tasted the combination of chocolate, whipped cream and his seed on your tongue. It was sweet and heady, a blend that shouldn't work together, but somehow it did. You loved it. Taking every inch of Henry's manhood you could, you suckled him, bobbing your head in a smooth motion, savoring every moment of it. Henry gulped, watching you swallow him, with each upward motion of your head revealed less of the contents you had covered his shaft with, leaving it only glistening with his pre-cum and your saliva.

“My love.” He wheezed, feeling the growing tightening of his balls and the tingle at the base of his brain, his vision blurred for a moment and his eyes crossed. “Babe, I'm going to...I'm...cl-” He rambled, gulping and shaking his head, trying to clear his mind, but couldn't. “Clo—Fuck!” He barked, arching his back, moaning and grunting as he came, pumping hot and thick ribbons of come into your mouth.

You hummed, rubbing your hand over his trembling thigh as you drank down every bit he gave you with greed and readiness. Pulling back once the last spasm and drop had passed and wiping a line of drool from your bottom lip with the back of your hand, you sat back and looked up at Henry's face. He was still recovering from his orgasm, a state of bliss and a soft smile on his lips. It made you happy to see him so relaxed and content, so euphoric on his thirty-ninth birthday. You slipped off of him and stood beside the bed, moving towards the master bathroom, when Henry reached out and snagged your wrist.

“And, where do you think you're off too, hm?” Henry asked, softly, rolling his head to look over at you.

“Well, I was going to grab a washcloth to help out your wee mess.” You said, motioning towards the bathroom with your other arm.

“Oh no, you're getting back into bed, darling.” He told you, sitting up and wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you back into bed with him. “It's my turn to decorate a cake.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Mmm.” You hummed at him, nodding. “You're the birthday boy, so whatever you want, Puppy.” You replied, winking at him.

“That's right, dove, whatever the birthday boy wants.” He nodded back, pressing his lips together. “Now, lay down and get comfy.” He said, patting the bed beside him.

“Aye, aye, birthday boy!” You replied, saluting him and laid down on the spot he indicated, wiggling down into the comfortable sheets and mattress.

Henry grinned at you, giddy as he moved over you, curling his fingers around the waistband of your panties and slid them off of you, before nestling himself between your legs, letting you wrap them around his waist. “Hmm.” He hummed, tapping his fingers over your thighs as he studied his options on the nightstand. “What do I want to decorate my cake with first?” He purred, leaning down to press his lips against your stomach.

“I know.” He smiled, reaching out for the reddi-wip. “I need some stiff peaks to work with first, though.” He frowned, pressing wet kisses to your breasts, then gently blew on them, hardening your nipples and making your shiver. “Excellent!” He winked, before adorning each breast with a big dollop of whipped cream, covering your taut nipples.

Setting the whipped cream aside, Henry picked up the chocolate sauce and made a line along your left collarbone and down to your breast, spiraling around it, stopping just short of the pile of white fluff. Henry grabbed the caramel for a moment, doing the same to your right collarbone and breast, then drew a line down your stomach and circled your navel, before pouring chocolate into your belly button.

“You did not just fill my belly button with chocolate sauce!” You laughed, grinning at him, so amused.

“Body shot!” Henry explained, laughing and smiling, setting the bottles back down. “Lord, you look too good to eat.” He purred, biting his bottom lip as he looked at his handiwork.

“Well, you're going to have to eat me, or all of this is going to melt off, with my body heat.” You informed him, bashfully, already feeling the chocolate and caramel sauce around your breast start to drip down your sides.

“I suppose.” He sighed, faking melancholy.

Henry attacked your breast first, closing his mouth around your cream covered nipple, sucking it clean, tugging lightly before letting it go and start licking off the caramel, having to dip his head over your side to clean up the drip lines before they made it to the bed sheets. He nuzzled his face into your neck, nibbling along your collarbone. You closed your eyes and relaxed, letting your other senses take over, feeling Henry's hot breath on your skin, the hungry, but skillful lips move along your collarbone, leaving your skin almost spotless of the two substances, before dipping back down for your other breast and giving it the same treatment, as the other, whimpering softly at his attention.

You hummed, feeling Henry's mouth move to the valley between your breasts, nuzzling his cheek against them for a small moment, before continuing on, lapping up the sweet lines he had made there, until he reached your navel, still mostly full of the chocolate he filled it with, your increased breathing spilled some of it out, sending lines of chocolate towards your hips and lower abdomen. Henry sealed his lips around your navel, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked in the liquid, then probing the tip of his tongue inside, making you giggle and squirm beneath him, cleaning whatever else was left, then cleaned up the escaped lines.

“Hmm, such a tasty cake you make.” He hummed, resting his chin on your stomach.

“I was well prepared.” You joked, carding your fingers through his hair and resting your hand on his broad shoulder, kneading it lightly.

Henry chuckled, grinning at you, and turning his head to lay it on your belly for a short while. Both of you relaxed, the warm rays of sunlight coming in through the windows on either side of the bed, warming your and Henry's naked and sticky skin. Henry shifted, kissing your belly as he moved, reaching out, almost blindly, giving you a soft and smug expression as he applied the now warm whipped cream over your folds, then tossed the can aside.

You gulped, watching Henry go down on you, flexing your toes in anticipation of his broad and skillful tongue lapping at your reddi-wip covered pussy made you more excited than you had been in a long time. But Henry was painfully teasing, taking slow and shallow licks of the whipped cream, frustrating you as he took his time uncovering your clit.

“Henry!” You whined, breathily, frowning down at him.

“It's my birthday, if I want to unwrap my present slowly, I damn well will.” He huffed back, amused, returning to his unwrapping.

“Argh!” You howled, vexed.

Henry chuckled, licking his lips as he finally uncovered your pussy, slipping his tongue between your folds and moaning, feeling how wet you were. “Mmm, so much better than whipped cream.” He hummed, relishing in your taste for a long time, before he finally swallowed and pressed a lewd kiss to your nub, his tongue slithering out between his lips just enough to torture you.

You let out a soft and breathless mewl, melting into the mattress, Henry's wide tongue lapped at your sensitive and dripping folds, pushing between them to dance and tease your entrance, before taking the journey back up to your throbbing clit, making your thighs tremble and your eyes flutter into the back of your head.

“Dear God, Henry!” You whimpered, tearing at the sheets and tossing your head side to side on the pillow, back arching and heels digging into the mattress. “Please, babe, please!” You begged him, a hand flying to the back of his head, holding it in place, as you pressed down on his mouth.

Henry proficiently used his tongue to his advantage, easily bringing out your orgasm, with sweet sounds from your lips, crying out his name, as your back arched and hips rolled against his mouth, adding to the friction of his tongue, while you pulled on the curls at the back of his head.

It was all such a sweet surrender, that only Henry could make you submit too.

“Christ, Hen.” You purred, gently floating back down from your cloud nine as he came to lay beside you on the bed, pressing his lips to your sweaty temple. “Happy birthday.” You sighed, turning your head to meet his lips.

Henry smiled, folding you up into his arms and pressed you into his body, deepening the kiss for several minutes. He broke the kiss and pulled away from you, laughing at the feel of your sticky and sweaty skin adhering to each other.

“We should probably shower now.” He snorted, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I think that's a good idea, baby boy.” You nodded, rubbing noses with him, then rolled out of bed. “You coming, hot stuff?” You called out, over your shoulder.

Henry watched you walk toward the bathroom, admiring your naked form as he lounged on the bed. “Yep, just taking in the view for a second, honey.” He husked back, a whimsical look in his blue eyes, before he finally pulled himself up out of bed and joined you in the bathroom.

You turned the shower on, pumping out the hot water, and laughed, feeling Henry's blunt fingertips glide up from the back of your knee, over the half glove of your bottom, before snaking around your hip and hugging around your waist.

“All ready?” You cooed, shooting him a look over your shoulder as he pressed himself against your back, his fresh hard on nudging the soft skin of your thigh.

Henry shook his head and sighed heavily, his shoulders moving with the breath, he lowered his head, so his lips brushed your earlobe. “My love, with you, I'm always ready.” He purred, smirking roguishly.

Nipping on the helix of your ear, he spun you around and picked you up, forcing you to wrap your arms and legs around him to balance yourself, as he stepped into the steam filled shower stall with you. He pressed your back against the wall, the showerhead raining hot water down on you both.

“You know,” He growled, attacking your neck for several minutes, leaving almost painful love bites all over it. “I don't really give a fuck what we do for the rest of the day, to celebrate my birthday.” He said, pressing his cock against your pussy, still sensitive from your orgasm, only minutes before.

“As long as we're together.” He grunted, finally pushing himself inside of you.

You rolled your eyes shut, head lulling softly to the side against the shower tile, a peaceful feeling spreading through you, as Henry filled you up to your core, to your cervix really. It always made you feel so complete, when the two of you made love, feeling so right.

“I don't plan on going anywhere.” You cooed, pushing your fingers through his sopping curls. “Today, or any other day.” You promised, pressing your forehead to his. “My birthday boy.” You hummed, moving in tandem with him.

#Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #Birthday Boy #Birthday Boy *fic* #Smut #Cotton Candy Fluff #Happy Birthday Henry #Viking-Raider Fics #henry cavill x y/n #Henry Cavill x You #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill/You #Henry Cavill/Reader #Henry Cavill Fandom #Henry Cavill rpf #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfic #Henry Cavill smut

[xenokiryu]

Not that like, it matters or anything?

But uh... unless you really, REALLY need me for some weird reason-

You're going to have to @ me because everything else is getting shutdown on my blog for the time being.

Just cause I already have too much going on for me and it's becoming an issue and Tumblr is just a big ol' distraction that's helping to push me further and further into the whole "hey you have too much going on, youre stretching yourself thin" pit that I've recently found myself in.

I'd share other means of contact, but those have had their notifs turned off for awhile now already.

So uh- see y'all in a few days? Maybe? Idk yet, we'll see.

#Trezzie's rambles

[manchesterau]

Hey so I know you lost interest in the 1d/larry fandom and were lucky enough to have another interest to jump right into, but any advice for someone who is pretty miserable in that fandom but can't seem to sever the ties completely yet? It's just been years of my life you know? And it feels like such a waste to just up and leave. Idk, also I know this is a me issue but I don't really vibe with the people that Harry and Louis turned out to be. At least publicly. I'm a big ball of sad and would love some guidance if you're up for it.

hello anon! let me just say i completely understand the way you feel, 1d has been apart of my life since 2012 and the fandom is something that i always thought i would be apart of.

im sorry that you’re feeling sad about moving on, but i still say that no matter what 1d will always be apart of your life! 1d will always be apart of my life, especially because of the different friends it's brought me when i really needed a community to fit in when i was younger. all my friends i met through 1d i still consider my friends, i still talk to them! you don't have to leave them behind even if you don't share the same interest anymore! and the music is still there! i will ALWAYS love their music and i will always listen to it.

also you don't have to see it as a waste to just leave because it hasn't been a waste! in my head i think that it served it's purpose up to this point of my life and that it's just time for me to move on to things that really make me happy now. also you dont have to deleted your blog/erase all my 1d stuff from your life it can still be there! i still get notifications on here that ppl are reblogging my 1d gifs and it brings me joy to see it!

i know ive said this a few times but it took my 4 years of feeling miserable in this fandom for me to finally leave so it hasn't been an all around quick process either! i was still making content, i was quick to gif whenever one of them did something. i was still making gifs of them towards the end of the year! i did get really lucky that dan and phil started uploading around the time i was thinking about leaving so i did have something to jump into right away, and it's completely okay if you don't! and again i just want to say it's not been a waste!!!! it's just you growing up and moving on and that's okay!

to your last point...the biggest reason why i decided to leave is their complete silence on the genocide happening in palestine, and i realized speaking up was more important to me than anything and the fact that they haven't and don't seem to care even though louis has the anarchy symbol tattooed on him (lol) and harry seems to only attach himself to causes either after he's been pushed (blm) or things that are deemed safe politics (gun control in america) and yet still won't say anything about palestine when he has zionst allegations (which i know are old)...i don't know, all i can hope is that they've educated themselves but im just not putting all my eggs in their basket anymore. i don't know who these men are and im just fine watching them do whatever from the sidelines.

ive stopped feeling disappointing and upset at what they do because i realized i don't want them to be the be all and end all to my happiness on any given day

i hope that this was at least somewhat coherent enough and dont be afraid to message me or send another anon!!! i hope your journey of leaving 1d behind goes smoothly for you!!! also do some little things like stop following their update accounts and turn off notifications for them on twitter/ig! i stopped following their update accounts on here and on twitter + i still follow them all but i havent had their notifications on in about 3 years!

#anon

[kt-the-destroyer]

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#yes - 3 posts

#les mis - 3 posts

#quinn - 3 posts

#i don’t like nate so - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 104 characters

#one of my quinn headcannons is that quinn is southern but has a transatlantic accent to throw people off

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I still haven’t recovered from seeing Les Mis but I have to talk about Grantaire and Gavroche

1) Steven Hall was an absolutely beautiful Grantaire and I love him

2) he was constantly reaching for Gavroche and having him close

AND WHEN GAVROCHE GOT SHOT

Steven s c r e a m e d his name, and then when Gav died, Steven held him in his arms and just walked to the front of the stage and SHOOK HIM, MULTIPLE TIMES, TO TRY AND WAKE HIM UP

And then he fell to his knees, still holding his body and sobbing.

Cause during Drink with me, after Grantaires verse, enjolras tried to hug him and he fully pushed him away and ran over to lean face first against the wall and GAV RAN IVER AND HUGGED HIM. Then Grantaire turned around and hugged him back and they sank to the floor together and cuddled whilst they slept.

In conclusion, Grantaire and Gavroche fucking killed me

22 notes - Posted March 10, 2022

#4

hi I’m in Witcher brain rot and I can’t get the damn idea out of my head of band AU “jaskier and the wolves” Jaskier is singing, Lambert is on Drums, Geralt guitar and Eskel is on bass. And Vesimir is the band manager

28 notes - Posted January 11, 2022

#3

To follow on from my last Les Mis post (this was my first time seeing it live)

The amount of times Grantaire and Enjolras were together was criminal

And it wasn’t like Grantaire following him around like I thought it would be. A lot of times Enj was the one reaching out to him. Like, he put their foreheads together, tried to hug him, put his hand on him a lot

Just, Harry Chandler as Enjolras and Steven Hall as Grantaire just *chefs kiss* beautiful

42 notes - Posted March 10, 2022

#2

The thing about falling in love with a character who is only in 2 episodes is I can make up my own headcannons and no one can tell me theyre wrong

44 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Happy Barricade Day Y’all

144 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[rere-the-writer]

Hello! I found your blog and it’s my new obsession. Like, Hiding in the bathroom during work to read your fics.

Anyways can I please request something?

Poly!mikaelson’s x vampire reader where the reader gets kidnapped and tortured to the point she doesn’t recognize when they come to save her and passes out and once they get her home they wait for her to wake and have to calm her down because she freaks out. Maybe one of them even gives her their blood to help her heal because she was seriously injured? I’m a sucker for your angst fics. I turned on notifications for you cause I love your blog so much!

Hands down you have some of the best angst fics for this fandom/ship. 💜💜💜

Aww thank you 🥰 I'mma about make this so angsty

Warnings: angst like all of the angst, fluff in the end

You had been missing for the last two weeks having been taken by Aurora out of jealously she held for you since you were seeing Klaus. The Mikaelsons were waging war against Aurora to get you back which Tristan was angry with his sister as half of the Strix was dead in Elijah's rage coupled with Klaus and Kol slaughtering others. Lucien had heard what happened and wisely stayed out of it not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

You panted laying on the floor of the room Aurora kept you and you could have run if you weren't weak from not feeding and the vervain in your system. You were so tired and in pain and already have gave up on the hope of your lovers would save you.

"You know I am surprised you are still with them. After all you are just a toy I mean Kol has that witch Davina, Rebekah with Marcel then Elijah with that werewolf girl, Hayley."

This had been Aurora's new way of tormenting you by telling you the Mikaelsons didn't care for you. You let out a silent scream as your vocal cords was shot when Aurora stabbed you with a dagger dipped in vervain.

"Poor little old Y/N. Why would they choose a weak baby vampire of three years." Aurora mocked as you layed there feeling weak and ready to die as you couldn't take the pain. To you the older vampire had won having been in a cycle of pain of two weeks.

"Aurora, your brother wants to speak with you." You heard Aya tell Aurora and she dropped your head. Listening to them leave as you curled into yourself hurting and giving up.

"Where is she?" You swore you heard Klaus's voice as the sounds bodies dropping and screams rang out as the questioning thought was it really then enter your mind as you passed out. Elijah growled lowly when he found you gently and carefully picked you up.

"You found her." Kol said eyes narrowing seeing the state you were in as Rebekah rushed over.

"She'll need blood, let's get her out of here then deal with Aurora." Elijah said calmly as he was angry and Klaus joined them frowning seeing how hurt you where. They got you home and Elijah washed you frowning seeing the wounds you had and dressed you.

"Let me give her blood." Rebekah said biting her wrist as Elijah tilted your head back as Rebekah gave you her blood.

"I don't understand how Hayley could allow Y/N to be taken." Kol growled looking at you as you were slowly healing even while Kol and Rebekah was taking turns to feed you their blood.

"From what she told Marcel was that they took Jackson too. She didn't think Jackson would survive."

"No Y/N wouldn't. She has only been a vampire for three years." Rebekah tells Elijah as Kol was feeding you more of his blood. It took a day for you to wake up and your scream woke your lovers and Elijah wrapped his arms around you.

"Shhhh sweetling, you're safe, your home." Elijah whispered in your ear holding you tightly as you calmed down panting flinching away when Elijah kissed your temple. Elijah frowned when you pushed yourself away from him.

"Don't Kol, she is panicked." Elijah said softly stopping Kol from run to you as he got off your bed. Your breathing was shallow as memories were piecing themselves together while you climbed back in bed.

"How is she?" Rebekah asked when she walked up hearing your screaming Kol was frowning.

"Panicked. What do we do 'Lijah?"

"Let her process what happened and that she is safe." Elijah says softly watching you curl up into a ball. Klaus growled lowly pacing as three days passed you were doing better but didn't allow your lovers to touch you that wasn't platonic then there were moments you would flinch seeing blood or any knifes and daggers.

"I'm going to kill Aurora."

"No Nik. She is my first Sired, let me." Rebekah growled as Elijah sat thinking, you weren't feeding making them slip blood in your drinks. You weren't sleeping well waking up from nightmares and refusing them to comfort you.

"Aurora will die but we need to focus on our little vamp." Kol said worried about you watching you with Camille. You were smiling but it didn't reached your eyes.

"Nightmares I understand but pushing us away?"

"Maybe let her go?" They turned their heads seeing Hayley standing there arms crossed.

"Hayley." Klaus growled a warning as she rolled her eyes looking at Elijah.

"Look clearly she is a lost cause so stick her somewhere were she isn't a bother. The first Sired needs to be taken care of and you guys are too busy taking care of Y/N."

"No we won't abandon her!"

"Rebekah is right Hayley. She needs us also Tristan is in hiding with Aurora worried we are knocking on his door."

"Which we are." Klaus said as you walked back in with Camille rushing back up to your bedroom not looking at the Mikaelsons.

"How is she, Camille?"

"Honestly? A reck, Aurora did a number on her. Just don't give up on her, Aurora told her some nasty things."

"Thank you Camille." Elijah said as the human nodded then sent Rebekah up to you first.

"You guys know she won't be the same right?"

"Of course but she'll be stronger like a Phoenix." Klaus said smirking. Later that night you had another nightmare and Rebekah stood at door.

"Sweetheart?"

"Beka." You rasped out holding your arms out to her as Rebekah was quick to pull you against her as for the first time since you been back you let out a heart retching sob.

"Shhhhh I' m here I am not going anywhere, beautiful." Rebekah cooed softly as you nodded still crying when Kol came in unable to take your cries. To their surprise you let Kol hold you as you rolled over clinging to him.

Then scent of nutmeg and lavender with warm vanilla filled your senses you know the scents belonged to Kol and Rebekah. It brought comfort as you finally felt safe as you buried yourself in their arms.

"Rebekah? Kol?" Freya whispered finding them in your room she got teary eyed seeing you nuzzled up to Rebekah as Kol had his face pressed against your back.

"Freya? Something wrong?"

"Look Elijah." Freya whispered as he looked into your bedroom his eyes softened as his heart swelled with joy seeing you seeking comfort finally.

They found Aurora and while Elijah took care of Tristan. Aurora was left in the mercy of Klaus, Rebekah and Kol which the three showed Aurora just why most didn't dare get near you.

"Did you kill her?" Elijah asked seeing his all too pleased siblings.

"Oh no. We sealed her away in a wall making her believe there will be a point in time that we will kill her.

"I see. Just how did you do this ?"

"Compelled her. Rebekah made her believe that I was coming to save her. Klaus said smirking as Elijah smiled.

"Ah. Better than me dumping Tristan in the ocean." Elijah says smirking as they now shift their attention on you and taking out Lucien.

You stood outside of Klaus's bedroom and stepped inside while Rebekah Kol was great but you missed your wolf.

"Nik?"

"Oh. Love come here." Klaus said half asleep as you rushed into his arms. You drowned yourself in his scent of old paint with the under tone was warm spice.

"Nik."

"Shhhh love don't cry. You're still weak, you'll get sick." Klaus said softly as you hummed a quiet okay. You sighed nuzzling into his neck while he rubbed your back and for the first night since you gotten back you got to sleep without nightmares.

You were doing better more and more each day finally feeding and allowing your lovers touch and cuddle you as you weren't ready for intimacy. But you still stayed away from Elijah until the others left for a night to find out what Lucien was up to.

Your scream rang out waking Hayley and Elijah. The scent of pine, bourbon and spices as one thought rang through your head....Elijah.

"Shhh baby. I'm here you're safe." Elijah whispered in your ear waiting for you to push him away but was surprised when you rolled over latching on to him.

"Eli. I was doing so well. You must think I'm weak." You said weakly as he just held you closer kissing your head rubbing your back.

"No no baby. I don't think you're weak. You have been so strong." Elijah whispered squeezing you gently.

"But I trying to be stronger for you.... like Hayley." You tell him as it clicked for Elijah why you hadn't came to him like you did the others.

"Baby, I don't want you like Hayley. Strong or not I love you and wish you would need me too."

"I always need you. I love you too." You whispered relaxing in him hold as he lulled you back to sleep. Later that night the others joined you two surrounding you with warmth and love as you finally felt safe and at home.

#rere's stories #mikaelson family x reader #mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #mikaelson family angst

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 18- Dacryphillia

Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader

Word count- 1.3k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), minor character death, voyeurism, thigh riding, rough, protective!V, crying, no use of y/n

Notes- Turning things a little rougher and darker with V here today, cause it wouldn't be kinktober without it!! But you know I gotta throw in a little protectiveness too! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

“That’s it, cariño,” Veracruz growled as his eyes narrowed.

You looked at him with a questioning expression, as if you weren’t sure you should be doing this. It felt good physically, as the muscular thigh clenched under your cunt. You moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth, your clit catching on the hem of the pant leg. But, you also knew how Comandante Veracruz was, and to tell you to ride the thigh of one of his men felt very out of character for him.

“V…” you breathed as you watched his every microexpression.

“Do not stop, cariño,” he ordered when he saw your movements slow.

You swallowed hard and nodded, picking up your pace again.

The man sat behind you, his legs parted so that you could straddle his thigh, and the tent in his pants showed that he was obviously extremely turned on. He was equally confused when the Comandante called him into his tent and had him sit down with you on his lap. But, he also couldn’t deny how much he fantasized about having you for himself.

“You do not touch her,” Veracruz commanded as he saw the subordinate's hand twitch.

“Y-yes sir,” he strained.

“Keep going cariño,” Veracruz turned to you.

“Yes Comandante,” you breathed as you placed your hands on the subordinate’s knee for balance as you picked up your pace.

A moan escaped your lips as your clit caught a rough edge of the pant hem. You whimpered as you bit your lip to stifle more cries, and you hated how much you craved your release when it wasn’t on Veracruz. Both men in the room eyed you hungrily, both itching to reach their hands in their pants and touch themselves as you pleasured yourself.

And that was when the subordinate made his mistake.

He couldn’t resist the temptation and he reached out, placing his hands on your hips. He groaned as he caressed your hips and ass, giving you a slap. You let out a yelp that quickly turned into a moan and you leaned forward to rub yourself against his thigh more.

But, before the subordinate could land another slap on your ass, Veracruz lunged forward, pouncing on him like a panther on its prey. He growled a string of curses as he grabbed the subordinate’s wrist, yanking it off you and twitching it painfully. The man let out a pained cry as he felt his wrist crack, and tears fell from his eyes before he could stop them.

“I told you not to touch her,” Veracruz snarled, his anger palpable.

You quickly jumped off the man and scurried away, giving Veracruz space. You watched with wide eyes as Veracruz punched him in the nose, causing more tears to stream down his face. He grabbed his neck and squeezed hard, cutting off the air supply until he fell down onto the ground.

When Veracruz turned back to you, he had a dark look in his eyes that both frightened you and turned you on at the same time. The truth was he was looking for an excuse to get rid of this subordinate, and this was the perfect way to do so. Everyone knew the Comandante would kill anyone who as much as looked at his girl wrong, and he knew no boundaries when it came to protecting you.

Veracruz across the room in just a few steps and cupped your face with both hands. He stared at you for a moment before he crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, as the way he kissed you pushed all thoughts of the dying man out of your mind.

There was a fire behind him, fueled by the way the subordinate cried as he was beaten. And Veracruz knew just how to harness that energy that built within him. “Cariño,” he purred, “How about we give this poor dying man one final show.”

You whimpered as you nodded.

Suddenly, you found yourself on the ground on your back, Veracruz overtop of you as he yanked your pants down in one swift movement. The inferno burned brightly behind his dark eyes as he groaned and crawled on top of you, positing his cock at your pussy.

“Look at me, cariño,” he murmured, and waited for your eyes to meet his before he thrust into you in one motion.

You screamed at his thick cock stretched you out, and tears of your own dripped from the corners of your eyes. You clung to him as he pounded into you with a low rumble reverberating in his chest. Faintly, you heard the gasps of the subordinate on the floor, but every time you tried to look at him, Veracruz grabbed your chin and forced you to keep your gaze on him.

“Do not look, cariño,” he groaned as he slowed his thrusts for a moment.

You moaned as he rocked into you in slow, yet strong and purposeful movements. Every time, he reeled back so only the tip of his cock stayed inside you before he thrust forward harshly again. Every time, you cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, something Veracruz was a master of balancing and something you craved more than anything in the world.

Veracruz’s own gaze remained on you as he watched your eyes flutter shut and your mouth drop open with every thrust of his hips. But, a low wheeze from across the room got his attention, and he raised his gaze to watch the dying man in the corner. Tears fell from his eyes as his breath started to leave him. And his cock was still hard.

The Comandante smirked with satisfaction, knowing that he would die unfulfilled while he himself- and you- would cum again and again and again.

“V…” you moaned as you demanded his attention once more, “Please.”

Veracruz groaned as he leaned in and kissed you deeply while he sped up his thrusts once more. His hips slapped against yours as his cock hit your sweet spot over and over again, causing you to tremble underneath him. He felt your salty tears against his face as he dove his tongue into your mouth.

“Cum, cariño,” he hissed as he felt his own climax quickly approach. The Comandante had never been more turned on in his life.

He got his wish as your body obeyed his command and with just a few more thrusts of his cock, you came hard, soacking his cock. You clung to him as your body shook and wave after wave of ultimate pleasure crashed into you. Veracruz broke away from the kiss to watch you fall apart at his touch, and he growled as he watched the tears fall freely from your eyes.

He groaned your name as he thrust into you more erratically, losing control of himself until he too came hard. Veracruz grunted as he spilled himself inside you, filling you to the brim. Sweat dripped from his brow as he held his harsh pace as long as he possibly could.

Spent, the Comandante collapsed down onto you for a moment before he breathed hard and pushed himself up onto his elbows. He looked you over for a moment as you came down from your high, taking the moment to make sure you weren’t truly hurt. Your eyes stayed closed, which Veracruz was grateful for, since the silence on the other end of the room was deafening.

“Come, cariño,” his tone was low as he pulled out of you with a hiss and helped you to your feet, careful not to let you look back at the body in the room. Any question or protest you had was shushed by the Comandante as he let you get dressed before taking you outside. He would make an example of the subordinate later, but for now, his priority was you. 

And he definitely wanted to make you cry like that again.

#fawktober2023 #kinktober #comandante veracruz #comandante veracruz x reader #comandante veracruz x you #veracruz x reader #veracruz x you #comandante veracruz imagine #comandante veracruz fic #comandante veracruz fanfic #comandante veracruz fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #burn notice the fall of sam axe fic #burn notice the fall of sam axe fanfic #burn notice the fall of sam axe fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #burn notice fic #burn notice fanfic #burn notice fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic