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#s: may b six
cowboylikejesper · 3 months
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the amount of anger that flows through my body every time i remember seeing someone on twitter say that jesper would cheat on wylan
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catastrxblues · 6 months
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okay, so i’m currently reading six of crows!! i jumped straight to the duology because i didn’t think i would like shadow and bone (and most people said they’re barely related anyways so why not) but i’m having second thoughts right now (and i really really want to see more of nikolai and zoya) so! help me out here a bit please thank youu
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swiftiephobe · 5 months
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tbh i never even watched the second season of s&b so i can't even be invested in the cancellation 😭
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 8 months
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pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake
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summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?
warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging
note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.
word count: 16.7k
“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”
You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.
“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”
A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.
Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.
He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.
What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.
“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.
Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.
“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”
Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”
You smiled, humming in agreement.
“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”
You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.
“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.
In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”
However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.
“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”
Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.
And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.
You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”
His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.
Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.
He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.
“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.
It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.
He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.
You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.
Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.
His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.
He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.
Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.
“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.
Now he knew.
Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.
After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.
You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.
“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”
His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.
“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.
“Who said I was?”
“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”
You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.
The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.
“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”
Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.
“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.
“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”
He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.
You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.
He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”
Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.
Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”
He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.
**********
It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.
There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.
Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.
Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”
With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.
He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.
“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.
“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”
There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.
They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.
You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.
Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.
“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.
You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.
His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”
And so, you did.
Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.
All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.
An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.
“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”
They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.
You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your­–”
He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”
That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.
Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”
“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.
Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.
“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.
Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?
Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.
Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”
She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.
You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.
“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”
His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.
The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.
“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.
“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.
Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.
Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.
He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”
The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.
As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.
Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.
His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.
The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…
“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.
Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.
You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.
“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.
Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”
“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.
**********
The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.
Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.
Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–
A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.
Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.
To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.
You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Something on your mind?”
He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.
More like ‘someone’, you thought.
“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”
Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.
His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”
Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.
“Bellamy,” you warned.
He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh oh.”
The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.
Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.
“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”
“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.
He nodded.
Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”
As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.
Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.
The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.
“Without…?” you coaxed him on.
You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.
That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.
God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.
By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.
He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”
Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.
“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.
Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.
Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.
“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.
“Um, winning?”
He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”
You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.
“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”
He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.
His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.
You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.
Something was missing.
You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.
“Ow!”
Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.
Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”
“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.
It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.
“Some bug.”
That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.
Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.
The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.
“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.
As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.
“Swarm.”
“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.
You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.
Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.
“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.
Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.
After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.
You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.
“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.
Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.
“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.
He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”
Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.
Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.
“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”
Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.
“Clarke, wait!”
“Get back here!”
To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?
You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.
“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.
Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.
“It’s down! Come on!”
Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.
No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.
Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”
Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.
He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.
“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.
**********
Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.
The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.
You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.
Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.
Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”
Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.
If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.
Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?
“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.
It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.
You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.
“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”
“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted
You raised your hands in faux fear.
Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”
Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.
You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.
“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”
He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.
“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”
He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.
Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.
You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”
It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.
You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.
(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)
However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.
While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.
You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.
As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.
At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.
Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?
After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.
Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.
The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.
And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.
He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.
Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.
Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.
You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.
Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.
That son of a bitch.
Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.
Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.
“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.
Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.
Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.
You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.
Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.
Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.
He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…
So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.
Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.
Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position. 
Bellamy.
“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.
He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.
The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”
Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”
He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.
You moved onto your knees as he got closer.
Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”
His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.
For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.
When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.
You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”
He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”
The game. You had almost forgotten.
Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.
“Don’t think that will work, princess.”
You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.
He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.
“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.
Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.
Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”
“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”
I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.
“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”
Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.
“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”
Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”
He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”
You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”
Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.
To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.
In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.
You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.
His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.
Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.
He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.
You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.
Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.
You wiggled against him, but it was futile.
“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”
He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.
“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.
“Just touch me,” you pleaded.
A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.
Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.
Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.
His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.
He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.
All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.
And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.
Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.
It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.
Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.
He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”
His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.
“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”
He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.
Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.
His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.
“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.
Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.
Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.
It all happened so fast.
“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.
Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.
Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.
You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground
Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.
You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.
He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.
His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.
He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.
If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.
“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.
His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”
You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.
“You still lost, remember?” he added.
As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”
His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.
“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.
Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.
He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”
His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”
“A man would take these chains off me.”
“You think taunting me will get me to break?”
Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.
Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.
You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.
And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.
You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.
Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.
His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.
He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.
Come on. Come on, you thought.
“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”
That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.
Weak point four—check.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.
And five. Check yes Juliet.
Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.
Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.
Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.
He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.
You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.
His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.
Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.
He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.
Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.
You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.
A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.
He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…
No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.
His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.
He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.
Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.
Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.
That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.
He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.
And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.
“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.
His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.
The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.
You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”
A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.
Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.
It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.
Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.
Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.
He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.
You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.
And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.
“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.
Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.
A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.
The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.
His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.
Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.
He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.
“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”
You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.
Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”
His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.
Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.
Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.
“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”
You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.
He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.
Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.
You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.
In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”
He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.
Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.
Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.
“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.
His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”
“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”
He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.
His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”
You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.
It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.
“Lean back,” he said, and you did.
Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.
“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.
You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.
He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.
He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.
Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.
His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.
The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.
You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.
His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.
Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.
His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.
You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.
“Bell, I’m gonna–”
“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”
Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.
He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.
The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.
Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.
His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.
Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.
You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.
Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.
The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.
“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.
You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”
“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”
You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–
“Oh, come on!”
You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.
Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”
“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”
His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.
“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”
“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.
“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”
You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”
Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.
It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.
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chuluoyi · 6 months
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UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 05
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✩°。 ⋆ sinner's punishment
- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"
in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.
genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, heavy angst, minor character death, description of panic attack, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort
notes: if i may be so bold, this is my favorite chapter so far. but please pay attention to the warnings and read with discretion
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✩°。 ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter four : going downhill <- previous ✩ next -> chapter six : a longer dream
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In hindsight, the first person you could’ve called shouldn't be your husband. You could’ve called the police, or informed the jujutsu headquarters that traces of a curse user were found in your mother’s humble cottage.
But you were on the verge of having a panic attack, and the first person you could hold onto was Megumi. He promised to come to you as soon as he finished his mission. And for the next agonizing four days, he was there with you.
And on the fifth day, when Itadori Yuji, who was in charge of this investigation, came to your doorstep to deliver the grim news, you felt yourself shaking, overwhelmed with the beginnings of hysteria.
"N-no..." Your breathing was getting harder and out of control. "T-there must be... a m-mistake..."
"I'm sorry, Sena-san," Yuji drooped his head apologetically and gritted his teeth, seemingly pained that he must be the one to tell you this. "We found the corpse at the west area of the river bank. And we've identified her as your mother."
It started with choked sobs, and then an almost inhuman scream erupted from your throat and you started weeping so intensely that you nearly crumpled, saved only by Megumi's strong grip that kept you from collapsing entirely.
You grabbed a hold of his shirt so tightly that your knuckles turned pale, almost ripping it, looking at him through your torrents of tears. "I-it's not true... r-right? I-it's just a nightmare! Please w-wake me u-up..."
"Sena." Megumi's deep voice resonated, reflecting his own struggle in processing this devastating news. He looked at Yuji, who was close to tears himself, and then at you, before pulling you into his arms tightly.
"N-no!" you wailed, thrashing against his hold. "Megumi! No! My mom―my mother! S-she can't b-be―"
Your mother, who used to brush your hair and pat your back to get you to sleep when you were little. Your mother, who stood against your father because he would marry you off to some bastard who could make your life hell and got shut away. And your mother―who cried in relief on your wedding day, realizing that you would be in good hands with Megumi.
The reality of her death suddenly hit your conscience, sinking in with profound gravity. You began to wheeze, your screams and sobs merging into a cacophony of anguish. You nearly passed out in Megumi's arms as your ability to stand forsaking you entirely, but he still refused to let you go. He continued to hold you, pressing you tightly against his chest, even as you sank to the floor and pounded his chest in agonizing despair.
"Cry it out," he whispered. "Don't hold back. Just cry. It’s alright."
How did it come to this? Who in the world would murder your kind, loving mother? Why did it have to be her? What had she done so wrong that she deserved this?
Or was this karma? A divine punishment? For trapping the unaware Megumi into this marriage?
You couldn't think straight, the sheer pain of it all numbed your very being and you wanted to die too along with her. Even when you knew you were using him, you couldn't help but hang on Megumi's strong grip as you cried your heart out.
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The first days after the news broke were excruciating for Megumi as well.
He felt his chest ache whenever he saw you sobbing and crying in pain nonstop. It was a new form of torment, seeing you like that. He wanted to somehow alleviate your pain, albeit a bit. Or do anything to help you at all.
The preparations for the funeral mostly fell to him as you barely functioned. You were even more inconsolable after you saw the sight of blood on the white blanket that covered your mother in the autopsy room―you insisted on seeing her one last time, but you completely broke down afterwards and didn't dare to lift that piece of blanket. You feared the sight to remain in your nightmares.
And Megumi understood that. If he were in your position, it would destroy him too. Even though he had forgotten how his mother was like, he figured that should he lose Tsumiki this way, he could very well go feral altogether.
There weren't many that attended the funeral, and by the last day, your crying had subsided, replaced by this eerie silence and blank stare. You were dressed in all black and barely said a thing or two to the mourners. The only time your eyes glinted with something other than voidness was when your father had the audacity to come and pay his respect before the altar.
Cold fury. Megumi never saw you like that. You surged with so much hatred that when your father asked if you were okay you just turned your head away and refused to give him an answer.
"Please... look after my daughter," your father, the Hara clan head, said to Megumi outside the funeral house as the last of the mourners of the final day. He had looked so concerned and Megumi didn't have the heart to turn him away. He just nodded and bid his farewell curtly.
He would. Of course he would. What sort of husband would he be if he didn't?
When he got back, he found you staring at the altar in total stillness.
"My mother..." You croaked out, strained and barely audible. It was the first time he heard you saying something today other than many hollow “thank you” you muttered to each attendee. "She said... she'd rather take her own life rather than seeing me be married to Naoya."
Megumi's jaw tightened. Your voice radiated so much pain that it made his chest constrict and his desire to embrace you intensify. He approached you cautiously, aware of the anguish you were going through.
He turned to face you. "She was a great woman."
"She―was," you were quick to force the word out. You still looked so utterly heartbroken, but it seemed like you no longer had tears to spare. "I'm... going to find whoever did this," you muttered next, voice lacing with steel. "I won't let them free. I can't―this is the least I could do for her."
He nodded. Of course, he would extend his help too. All evidence pointed to this being the work of a curse user, which meant it wouldn't be long before you could find them.
It was easier said than done. Coming to terms didn't mean you would be able to go back to the way things were. A part of you was permanently shredded, and it would never be the same anymore. Megumi realized it firsthand when one night, a little over a week after the funeral, he heard quiet whimpers from your bedroom.
Truthfully, he also felt a sense of emptiness as well. Even though he didn’t know his mother-in-law that well, he remembered seeing her soft smile for him during the wedding, and of course the fact that she had sent many boxes of oranges just for you. He knew for a fact that she loved and cherished you so much.
And so, he tapped lightly on your door. Because the urge just got too much, and seeing you in grief made something in him want to rush to your side just to make sure that you were okay.
“Can I come in?”
Meanwhile inside, you had dampened your pillows with tears due to the dream of your happy childhood that just woke you up. Megumi's voice startled you as you tried to compose yourself.
You had noticed it. He had become even more considerate for you as of late, perhaps driven by sheer pity or sympathy. You didn’t care which—the fact that he did at all warmed your heart in a way you wouldn’t find the correct word to describe with, and you were grateful for his unflappable presence.
You wiped away your tears, and replied. “Yes.”
Megumi entered your room then, in his black sweater and visibly weary eyes. Despite his exhaustion, his concern for you was evident as his gaze met yours. “Are you alright?”
“…I’m fine. Sorry if I woke you.”
“No, I was getting the water,” he explained. “Do you have trouble sleeping?”
“Oh no... Not really.”
He hummed. “Want some company?”
You blinked. You would have never expected that Megumi would willingly offer you his presence just because he heard you sniffle to yourself at the dead of the night.
It was tempting—to continuously take advantage of his kindness. You knew it wasn’t right. You swore you knew.
But tonight…
Fushiguro Megumi is still your husband. By name and law it might be, but he did all his husbandly duties perfectly regardless. He was there to defend you, and hold you when you lost the only thing that mattered in your life.
And so as any wife would, you took up the offer of being in his presence. “Yeah.”
Megumi closed the door to your bedroom and studied you intently, his dark eyes narrowing. "Have you eaten tonight? I'm sorry I missed dinner. My mission ran late."
You found comfort in that simple question. "I didn't have the appetite. Anyway, it's okay."
His brow furrowed at your answer. "You can't go without eating anything. You'll get hungry and miserable."
To your surprise, Megumi left your room and then returned promptly, holding a box of cheesecake from a popular bakery in his hand.
"When did you get that?"
"On the way after finishing my job," he replied curtly, offering the treat. "Here. Eat now."
You were slightly taken aback as the pretty cheesecake was now in your hands. "It's midnight. I'm going to build up calories," you whined but clamped your mouth shut when he threw you a withering look. With a sigh, you pierced the fork through the fluffy cake and took a bite.
It was tasty, and you shyly indulged in another bite as Megumi smirked, as if silently conveying an "I told you so."
"No longer feeling as miserable, are we?" he asked with a hint of laughter.
You just hummed in response, avoiding eye contact. He chuckled. "Good then. I'm glad you like it."
It occurred to you that Megumi actually didn't like sweet things. He always took his coffee black, and he rarely ate the pastries you'd bring back. So he must have bought this with you in mind.
A warm feeling enveloped you, realizing that someone still cared about you enough to consider your feelings and bring you comfort.
"Thank you, Megumi," you mumbled, looking down at the half-eaten cake. The loss of your mother still stung you and in the darkest corner of your heart, you barely managed to find the will to continue living. But Megumi's presence made it better, a hundred times over. And most of all, you feel safe with him.
"Don't mention it." He breathed a sigh of relief.
It wouldn’t have been easy, and he knew it was going to take time. Healing was a process, and he was willing to be there every step of the way.
“Your eyes are red,” he pointed out. “Do you want me to get you a cool compress?”
You responded while still chewing the cheesecake. “Mmm, no. That’s okay.”
“Don’t be stubborn. Last time you didn’t listen to me, you almost tripped if I didn’t catch you.”
“That’s purely by accident! And hey, did you remember when we—”
That night, you and Megumi sat together on your bed, reminiscing about various things before eventually basking in comfortable silence. You didn't know when you started getting sleepy, but you did and the next thing you knew, in the morning, the first sight that greeted you was Megumi's sleeping face.
He was here the entire night. And you realized that with him here, you were no longer overcome with the urge to weep as much.
What is this feeling? Why couldn't you take your eyes off him?
Megumi is fairly attractive. He looked grumpy and unfriendly by default, but even then he was still handsome. And now that he was defenseless like this, he looked soft. It was the sight only you, his wife, got to see. No one else could come close to see him like this as you did.
Because you are his wife, and he is your husband.
In this very marriage that you instigated.
Your chest twinged as a wave of guilt washed over you. How could you forget that? You were a sinner. All of this pain and suffering—you had brought it upon yourself, and your mother had paid the price.
A fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes. Your sweet mother. She was the reason of this whole sham marriage. Now that the reason no longer existed, there was truly no need for either you or Megumi to continue on this path.
It felt even worse because you were falling for your husband. You might have deceived yourself until now, but this was an undeniable moment of truth. You weren't exactly sure when it had started, but you had willingly let Megumi capture your heart and have it. He was blunt but reliable and treated you well. Truth be told, you were genuinely enjoying this new life too.
But this has to stop. You couldn't fool over him forever. For his sake, you had to let him go.
Today was Sunday, so neither of you had to work. You had gone to the kitchen to ponder how you should bring the topic up when he stumbled in, still looking half-asleep.
"Ah, I fell asleep in your room," he remarked, yawning. The sight tugged your heartstrings because he looked so unguarded. You wanted to smother him, hug him, kiss him even―
No. This fantasy ends here.
"Megumi," you began, your tone carrying an edge that instantly put him on alert. "We need to talk."
He visibly frowned. "Yes?"
And nothing would've prepared him for the words coming out of you next.
"I think we should get a divorce."
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✩°。 ⋆ next -> chapter six : a longer dream
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🏷️ taglist
@moonmalice @hellothere9597 @qtnfer @firstplaidpeachnickel @waddlingwanderer @chilichopsticks @satorus-slut @dcvilxswish @lees-chaotic-brain @tojirin @bluebreadenthusiast @pandabooster @cole-silas @becsmarvel @giuli-in-earth @fuckimgenderfluid @haitanisrarity @kimura-uzuri @bicchaan
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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 5 months
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Hi lovelies, I know I reblogged a post about the S&B news earlier but I just want to put my own words out here real quick.
I’m slightly late writing this because I spent the last 30 minutes or so watching the wonderful wonderful wonderful brekkerbybrekker on Instagram live and it was honestly just a full half hour or me crying whilst I watched her cry. I feel like we all know her but if anyone doesn’t she’s on insta and tiktok and she’s absolutely brilliant so do go give her a follow.
The Grishaverse has been part of my life actually for only 2 years, nearly 2 1/2, and I say only because I feel like I have been part of this world forever. I read Six of Crows in May 2021 and I had finished reading the series by September. I think it was in June that I started watching the TV show, after I’d read the first Shadow and Bone book. So although I read the books first, or in the case of S&B the books that were relevant to the season, I have never existed in this fandom - and definitely not as an active part of it - without the show there. And really the main thing I want to say is please please please don’t let this fandom end because we don’t have the show anymore. I know it existed before me but I also know that we got a lot more traction because of the show, you can see that in the way the popularity of it spiked before the release of season 2, and I don’t want to lose this because I love it here so damn much. It really hurts that we won’t be able to see our beloved, wonderful cast in all the futures we’d hoped for, and I really hope they know just how much we love them. This is a difficult revelation, but we will continue on together because we are a strong and wonderful community joined by such genuine love for such a beautiful series of novels.
Over the next few days I’m planning on reblogging the analyses of season 2 that I posted in March so if you’ve joined me since then (which I think a lot of you have since we’re so close to 1.3k thank you all so much) and haven’t read them then give them a look because I really think there’s so much wonderfulness to celebrate about that show and that’s what we need to keep doing now. I also might end up writing some new analyses of the show since I will almost definitely be rewatching it.
Deep down, I honestly really thought we were gonna make it
I know that not everyone will get why this provoked an emotional response from me and that’s okay, but please don’t be disrespectful of the fact that it did 🖤
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ferris-the-wheel · 7 months
Text
TWST relationship headcanons!!
Info: Six months after you start dating the respective character.
Author's note: The characters were chosen by a friend at random (with no context). I'm also still on Chapter 6 of the main storyline and don't know much about the main Diasomnia characters' pasts, so these hcs will take place before then, I guess?
TW: Maybe a tiny bit of angst(?)
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When you two first started dating, he was so happy that he couldn't sleep. He was actually surprised to find that he hadn't randomly fallen asleep during the day as he normally did.
After that, he'd spend a lot of time around you, concluding that it was because of you that he didn't fall asleep.
Since he's basically the adopted brother of Malleus, he undoubtedly has at least some money. He likes to buy you surprise gifts so that he can see you smile. which makes him happier as well.
He invites you over to Diasomnia a lot (encouraged by Lilia), which he's perfectly fine with as, as stated earlier, he likes spending time with you.
His favorite pastime is sitting somewhere where you two can see the stars at night like a balcony or somewhere where there are a lot of windows (though he prefers being outside).
He's such a good boyfriend, I mean, he was raised and trained as a knight. If someone is giving you trouble, expect Silver to give them a very stern talking to (with or without Malleus beside him as incentive).
He's a very calm and comforting presence, making you feel better if you're feeling down and cheering you up.
I don't think he'd mind PDA, but I feel like he'd be a bit more reserved with it, so he'd settle for holding hands while you're walking or stuff like that.
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He's very pleased that you agreed to date him, but also very sad. He feels like a bad person because he knows that by dating you, you'll eventually grow old and die while he'll live on. He thinks he's depriving you of a "normal life" with another human.
You've worked very hard to convince him that he's the one you want to be with and that you don't want anyone else.
He spoils you A LOT. He'll splurge a shit ton of money on fancy dates, gifts, and other things. He spoils you to the point where you have almost no empty floor space in your room, so you had to ask him to stop spending so much on you (though you felt bad about this because of the expression on his face).
Aside from that, he's extremely loyal to you. Despite your reassurances, he thinks that at least if he's going to deprive you of a mortal love, then he's going to pride himself in being the most loyal boyfriend (hopefully husband later) ever.
He's very happy that Lilia approves of you and that you two get along. He enjoys walking in on you two hanging out and genuinely appreciating each others' company. He's also very grateful that you help prevent kitchen disasters by monitoring babysitting Lilia while he's "cooking".
I don't really think he'd exactly know what PDA is or what qualifies as PDA, so he'd just walk up to you and either a) act as normal or b) be a bit affectionate such as a kiss (on the lips or cheek, he doesn't care) or he'd wrap his arm around you. If you aren't a fan though, he'd refrain from doing so.
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His personality made it very hard for you to trust him in the beginning, as he's very sly, but you eventually learned to trust him more. He'd be happy if you were rich but he'd empathize if you weren't. He doesn't care if you have a lot of money a lot, as he definitely isn't rich either.
If you give him something (especially food), he'll be extremely happy. He'll be even happier if you give him enough to feed his community back home. Give him some donuts and he'll be in heaven, literally wondering what a crook like him did to deserve someone like you (just for giving him donuts).
He may feel bad dating you since you can give him things like food and other presents while he can't really afford to buy things for you or take you anywhere. He does extra tasks for Leona in exchange for money, but you wouldn't let him spend it on you and told him to save it or give it to the people back home.
Therefore, he shows his love by hugs, stealing quick kisses on your cheek, goofing around, and snuggling (if one of you is in the mood). He'll randomly grab your hand while you're walking or carry things for you in the hallways, little things like that.
I think he'd be impartial toward PDA, he'd base it off of your preferences. If you aren't a fan of PDA, he'd dial it down to when it's just the two of you. If you like PDA or don't mind it, he'd be doing the things above (cheek kisses, hand grabbing, hugs, etc.).
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How you managed to even talk to this dude in person, that's a mystery. You probably met on the internet and wound up meeting that way. But now that you're in his life, good luck trying to get out. He isn't used to people showing any form of affection toward him (or human interaction in general), so once you become what he considers a friend, he's not letting you go easily.
Once you start dating? Oh yeah, you are never getting rid of him. Not to say he's clingy (that's a lie, he's a bit clingy), but he'd be texting you constantly wanting to know if you want to game or Netflix and chill.
He's not exactly a romantic but you don't mind (or hopefully you don't if you're dating Idia). He isn't a big fan of physical touch, so quality time is likely the way to go. I hc that he's a very snuggly person despite this, when he's in the mood. I think he's a little spoon (he's too awkward to be big spoon).
He's like, the most loyal guy ever (I mean, he never goes anywhere and doesn't talk to almost anyone). You would never have to worry about unfaithfulness with this guy, he's wayyyyy too attached to you now that you've infiltrated his little gamer den (and his heart).
PDA? Banish the thought from your mind. This is Idia, he doesn't leave his room unless absolutely necessary. If you wanted any PDA from him, you'd have to fight all the phantoms in Tartarus/the Underworld (and maybe not even then) for him to want to do anything like PDA. If PDA is a must on your list, Idia is not your guy.
Hiii! How you guys doing? I hope you enjoyed this post. I'll post part 2 innn..... three? four days? Hope you don't mind. You can send whatever requests you want (as long as they follow my rules)! Bye~~!!! 🧡
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rye-in-a-coat · 4 months
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MY SPARKLECARE THEORY
The Number.
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Y'all remember when the ZCP told us to not call the phone number Rem gives to Bright? You should not, I'm not sure if it's an actual number in real life; but if it happens to be, no one who's on the other side of the line will be happy.
To avoid curious viewers to obliterate someone's phone, what usually is done in media ever since in the 1960's in the U.S. and Canada is to have the phone number's central office code to be 555 as it's almost* guaranteed no civilian person will have such number for personal use or will link to any business. This only applies in the North American Numbering Plan of course.
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Why didn't the ZCP use a 555 number then? They actually used one in the same volume, the phone number Lo dials to call the Citycountrytown Casting Agency is 555-2737.
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What I get from this is that, if they didn't use a 555 number for the number at the end, it is because the numbers in it themselves carry some kind of information.
Cross on blue and yellow background.
Such symbol has appeared before in Volume 1, where we see a escaped patient having it on a sign, and in Volume 2, where it is held by a protestor. As Eve mentioned once in this ask, such symbol which also appears in the blog, website and other stuff is NOT the hospital's logo. Then of what or who?
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An anti-Sparklecare group?
It is clear that this symbol as shown in these examples, represents a statement against Sparklecare. What I supose is that, because Kittycorn doesn't want to reveal any further information of the protestors seen in volume 2, they will be relevant in a future volume or series. If we link these clues together, perhaps this symbol doesn't just represent the movement in general, but a specific organized group against Sparklecare, making it their logo. Then this would make Rem part of it too, and so Rem then becomes a very important piece in the story, because she's the infiltrated secret agent in the hospital. Knowing how heavily implied Doctor Party is to be an ESPer, he surely knows about Rem's undercover identity and about this organized group. Perhaps he's part of it too, if so, then they have another great important character against Cuddles.
A cipher?
Going back to the phone number, if the numbers in it are important and relevant, perhaps a piece of code is ciphered in it. My first thought was A1Z26 cipher, a simple sustitution code in which each letter gets a number assigned, so A is 1, B is 2; and so on.
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The first six digits of the phone number, if you read them as 1-14-20-9 and decipher them using A1Z26, you get the word ANTI; which I really doubt this is just a coincidence knowing how it is implied this phone number belongs to an ANTI Sparklecare group.
The other four tho: 2425, are not that obvious. The possible combinations readable in A1Z26 are 2-4-2-5 (BDBE), 2-4-25 (BDY), 24-2-5 (XBE), and 24-25 (XY).
The only idea that comes to my mind is A-N-T-I-B-D-Y which is one letter off from "antibody". An antibody is protein belonging to the inmune system which will find, target and neutralize foreign and so-possibly harming bodies such as harmful bacteria and viruses.
An antibody's job is to protect the human body from what will harm it, and these anthries's hope seems to be to protect the patients from receiving any more harm from such heartless medical industry.
But Imma be honest, the four last digits are quite an stretch to analyze and I'm starting to doubt if the ANTI is a coincidence.
*A footnote.
If you want to use a 555 number in your media, DO NOT put as area codes 800, 888, 877, 866, 855, 844 or 833 before them. These area codes are reserved for toll-free dial numbers, to which the 555 office code is valid; so you may actually write a real phone number that who knows where that will link to.
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Text
HORROR/THRILLER/SUSPENSEFUL STORY SETTINGS AND PLOT IDEAS:
[Feel free to use any prompt that shouts out to you! I would very much appreciate a tag if you post a story that was inspired by a prompt of mine! Happy writing everyone!]
A
amusement park (where the ride breaks down with everyone trapped on them, and there is a killer loose in the park…)
art gallery (where paintings trap visitors inside the frame and force them relive the scene the painting was based on...)
aquarium (where the protagonist gets trapped inside one of the shark tanks...)
B
basement (where the basement floods, there’s no way out, and there’s something weird swimming in the water…)
blood bank (where a blood bank is run by a vampire cult…)
board game cafe (where a group of teenagers are forced to play a game of snakes and ladders in real life, with real snakes and real ladders…)
bunker (where the captor holds his victim hostage in an old bunker and convinces the girl that he is protecting her from a world apocalypse…)
C
car (where a taxi driver picks up the wrong person and fears he may never live to tell the tale…)
castle (where the gargoyles come to life and attack the royal family…)
circus (where everyone who is hypnotized by the magician turns into a member of his unholy cult…)
D
desert (where a group of travellers are swept away by a sand storm and wake up in a haunted oasis…)
dungeon (where the visitors pay to torture subjects and the subjects are paid to be tortured…)
F
farmhouse (where the scarecrow comes to life and attempts to create a new body for himself with the farming family’s bodies…)
forest (where a lone hiker is caught in a bear trap in the woods and unable to escape, the bear is close by…)
G
graveyard (where the dead buried at the local cemetery come back to life and all the living people in the town die, except for you…)
H
haunted house (where a house manages to kill anyone who enters it…)
hotel (where the concierge is a vampire with a thirst for his visitors’ blood…)
house (where the family home falls into a sinkhole that leads straight to hell…)
I
island (where a new species of insect is discovered, and when the travellers get bitten, they start mutating into bugs…)
J
jungle (where a group of explorers start disappearing one by one during a rescue mission deep in the jungle…)
L
library (where the ghost of character killed off in a series haunts anyone who reads the book…)
M
military base (where a group of soldiers end up face to face against their canines who have somehow turned into werewolves…)
O
opera house (where the killer murders the musicians with their instruments...)
operating theatre (where an unwilling subject wakes up part way through the operation and is unable to move no matter how hard they try...)
P
prison (where the inmates are released from their cells and the officers are locked up in their place, leaving them at the complete mercy of the prisoners…)
psychiatric ward (where patients are forced to fight to the death in padded cells…)
pyramid (where archeologists discover an ancient tomb and unleash an ancient curse…)
R
railroad (where a cowboy spends his final hours repenting his sins as he lays tied to a railroad track…)
research centre (where the subjects loose the ability to either see, hear, or speak…)
S
sewer (where a family takes cover in the sewers when a nuclear missile is headed towards the city…)
shipwreck (where divers explore an ancient shipwreck, but the pirates are very much still alive and do not take well trespassers…)
space (where there is an explosion on ship leaving the crew without enough oxygen, there are only four extra tanks left, but there are six people…)
submarine (where there's an unknown killer aboard and no way to escape the deep ocean...)
T
tavern (where a knight is seduced and kidnapped by a handmaid who plans on avenging he sisters murder in the most heartless of ways…)
U
underwater (where evil merpeople kidnap scuba divers...)
university (where a group of students engineers create an artificial intelligence that goes rogue and attempts to create a real life body out of human remains…)
V
virtual reality (where virtual reality becomes a true reality, and to escape, 10 players have to survive all levels of the game, but after every level, the loser dies…)
Z
zoo (where the animals turn into zombies and attack their abusers…)
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alex-rambles · 1 year
Note
For personality for someone into cryptid academia, I’d say the reader be almost like dipper but sorta different? Like keeps to themselves, overall loves walking in the woods. And also thinks like ford.
Also here are pictures
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Thanks for the info! I like how there was a journal 3 in there lol. I did the Pines + Bill because i wasn't sure which characters you'd want
Gravity Falls characters with a cryptid academia s/o
Dipper
🌲Your aesthetic may actually have been what caught his eye to begin with
🌲He likes it a lot
🌲Would love taking walks in the woods with you, hoping to come across a supernatural sighting or two.
🌲He adores pouring over The Journal™ with you, looking for creatures you should hunt for next
🌲Very happy to find someone who shares his interest in the supernatural and the outdoorsy stuff
Mabel
🌠Supports your interest despite not sharing them
🌠Def enjoys going on hikes and nature walks with you though, and likes to listen to their stories and theories about the supernatural
🌠Even though she might call Dipper a nerd for displaying some similar traits, you're her s/o so that sibling teasing does not apply to you
🌠When you're on walks she gets distracted by cute animals so you'll probably have to either let her stare and try to pet them or attempt to reign her back in
Stanely
💰Bro compares you to Ford constantly
💰Not in a purposefully mean way he just likes to tease you jokingly
💰You may end up developing a friendship with Ford after Stan introduces you to him
💰And then you and Ford continue talking
💰aNd STAN GETS JELOUS BECAUSE YOU'RE SO SIMILAR
💰So he tries to get into that stuff for you
💰And buys you the clothes the match your aesthetic (only the cheap ones ofc. If he doesn't have enough he either shoplifts or steals from Ford)
Ford
✋Like Dipper, your aesthetic probably caught his eye
✋He sees something of a "partner" in you
✋BIG BRAIN DUO
✋He could spend HOURS talking about the supernatural with you
✋You probs find his six fingers thing cool so he feels comfortable around you
✋After all, most people bullied him for it
Bill
👁Bill is the cryptid you were looking for
👁He will explain all about his home dimension to you if you find it intriguing. If it were anyone but you'd he'd give a vague response about "liberation something something," but you're you sooooo
👁You like hiking? He'll make a mindscape hike trail for you to do together
👁During Weirdmaggedon he'll force his henchmaniacs to let you study them
👁He might make one little area of the forest normal so you can hike in the real world and obliterate anything that dares step into the area
👁In the mindscape he likes to try to scare the shit out of you with eldritch-esque creatures, but it doesn't work because a) not real, and b) you want to sTUDY tHE tHING
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bonecaffeine · 3 months
Text
Tsuchigomori nsfw alphabet - A, B, E, K, O, U, X.
A/N: Greetings and salutations. This is going to be the very first post of this account! It's mainly going to be focused on Tsuchigomori from TBHK since this man has very few fics and I am here to change that. So please, dear Tsuchigomori enthusiasts, flood my ask box with him. Sfw and nsfw requests are all very much welcome!
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Tw - 18+ content, read at your own risk.
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A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
Tsuchigomori is truly a sweetheart after intercourse. He'd coo to you how well you did and then proceed to clean you off, help you put your clothes back on, cuddle you to sleep or even run you a warm bath. He may me strike as someone who is cold and unbothered but on the inside he cares a lot.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
I don't think this man has a genuinely favorite part on his body... it's not that he's very insecure or something, he's just quite indiffirent about his physical appearance. However, if he really had to choose it would be his hands, all six of them. Tsuchi likes how convenient they become when he gets to touch you, so you are in luck if you are starved of physical affection.
When it comes to his partner, it's their thighs that are his favorite. So kissable, so squeezable, so soft... Tsuchigomori also adores their s/o's pretty face.
E = Experience (how experienced are they in bed?)
He has lived for more than 70 years, probably way longer than that, so he definetly has experience. His body count isn't too high, as he's someone who takes intimacy seriously, yet he's tested the waters enough to be a satisfying partner in bed. That being said, he's also quite inquisitive so he's always open to be better.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
This man is most definetly into bondage. He'd be the type to tie his partner up in his own silky web and watch them surrender. Seeing his s/o squirm against the soft fabric around their skin as Tsuchi's hands travel all around their body is something that gets Tsuchigomori off so badly.
Dirty talk is something up Tsuchigomori's alley as well. He just likes to see his partner react to it: their flushed cheeks, their flustered smile or an awkward attempt to look away and put up a tougher exterior. It brings a shit eating grin to Tsuchigomori's face because he knows exactly what to say to get you going.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving)
He mostly likes to give - he has a long tongue and all so you know he puts it to great use... though if his partner would want to return the favor, he absolutely wouldn't mind.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Teasing is something so effortless to Tsuchigomori, it almost comes naturally. Like the sadist he is, he'll find enjoyment in your embarassed, hot and bothered mannerisms. He'll purposefully make eye more contact with you or point out how flustered you're getting as if he wasn't aiming to get a rise out of you in the first place.
X = X-ray (let's see whats going on under those clothes)
If you look at this man and don't think that he gives off big dick energy you are simply lying to yourself. I mean come on, he's not only very tall but also a yokai. That being said, he's longer and thicker than average, but only to a point where it doesn't become an inconvenience.
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Alright folks, that's all for now. I may do a part two because there are still a few letters left. Let me know what you think:3
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sgiandubh · 3 months
Note
Do you think that people in the industry and those working in the field know that Sam and Caitriona are together?
Or are they two unknown people in the industry, so their relationship is hidden from everyone?
Dear People in the Industry Anon,
This is rather an easy one to answer. And quick.
May I refer you to one of my earliest posts, featuring one of the Spanish entertainment industry's main players 'oops' statements, at the Spanish Esquire gala, in December 2022?
All this went completely unnoticed at the time it happened, because (of course) the trolls were busy diverting this fandom's attention on a totally empty 'debate' about whether it was necessary/politically correct for S to take the car from his hotel to the event's venue. I seldom read anything more stupid and mean, but stupid and mean with an agenda. It was raining cats and dogs that night and since when people featured/celebrated at a gala are supposed to arrive by foot to said gala?
Judging by the reactions to my post in June 2023 (six months after the event), people had no clue about what Cristina Castaño said. You have it all in my post, with links I hope still work: the slippage and the immediate retcon, in a separate Esquire paper on the same topic, published the same day.
As for unknown, well... It depends on which level you place your cursor. In my humble opinion, they are both B-tiered. And, as I said many times before, likely to remain so, as long as photographers will still ask C to tell them her name at red carpet events, for example. But your ask makes me think of something that I just fell upon by mere chance yesterday night - a memoir, of all things. It should help us get a better idea about the extent of 'unknown' we are talking about. I will get back to this later, today.
Thank you for asking and here is my handful of dimes on the topic.
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melit0n · 3 months
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EUCLID ANALYSIS.
Told you guys it was coming, didn't I? I apologise that this has taken a bit longer than expected, my mental health hit me like a bullet train, but I do hope it's sufficient.
Part one -> You're already here!
Part two -> Line by line analysis part 1
Part three -> Line by line analysis part 2
Part four -> Musical/intrumental notes
Part five -> The Night in Sleep Token
Part six -> Conclusion
Please note this is a general analysis. Although I do go into theories, both my own and others, this is just general thoughts. Also note when I speak of Vessel, I mean Vessel as a character, not the person, unless I specifically state so.
Tagline: @rilllvri @a-s-levynn @fivewholeminutes @euclidsvessel @tonguetyd @moonchild-in-blue @kkarmatic @branches-in-a-flood
+ Some people were worried about spam liking/reblogging the last time I did one of these big analysis posts, and I want to say please don't worry about that! I get happy when I see the same users pop up liking and reblogging my work, because it means you're interested in this enough to go through the whole thing. Feel completely free to add your own thoughts, correct any errors I've made etc. As per usual, my DMs are completely open to anybody wanting to discuss ST <3
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Let's start off with the basics. ‘Euclid’ is the anglicised version of the Greek name Eukleídes (Εὐκλείδης), mainly known via the ancient Greek mathematician Euclid of Alexandria, who is seen as the ‘father of geometry’, and most famous for his work on symmetry. Its general definition is something or someone who is renowned and or glorious (A) and the lesser known definition is something that is a copy of the same (B) (taken from Euclid’s ideas on symmetry), which we’ll come back to in a bit.
However, there is another Euclid in history that we’ll be referencing; Euclid of Megara. This Euclid, similar to our mathematician, was an ancient Greek Socratic (having been a pupil of Socrates) philosopher. I’ll be taking part of a text out of his Wikipedia article since his ideas have been explained thoroughly there.
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(we'll be coming back to him soon)
First off, this is an incredibly interesting choice of name for a song. Outside of someone's maths and philosophy class, this name doesn't exist to most, so the fact it's been chosen at all is intriguing.
Vessel has shown time and time again he enjoys sometimes elaborate references in his art, an example being chemistry and biology in TPWBYT (most notable would probably be ‘Telomeres’), so, I think it would be easy to say that, whether it be a reference to Euclid the Mathematician or Euclid the philosopher, that said reference is understood and intended by Vessel.
So, let's start with our mathematician, shall we?
What I find interesting about Euclid of Alexandria is that his life and existence outside of his work on geometry is almost completely unknown. There's almost nothing known of him, as a person, other than where he spent half of his career (Alexandria; Egypt, hence his title), where he may have studied (Platonic academy) and a general idea of when he lived (around 300BC). What is known about this insanely famous man who created the foundations of symmetry is incredibly barebones. People take Euclid at face value for his work, just like Vessel (both as an artist, and a character).
Further, we, as listeners, don't have much of an understanding of who Vessel is other than being a mouthpiece of a deity known as Sleep, someone once human now grasping at the threads of humanity and someone sharing some of his struggles in life (both with Sleep and unknown people). Like Euclid, he is barebones, we take him at face value; a vessel. He is both a mouthpiece for Sleep, a mouthpiece for his own emotions (obviously) and a mouthpiece for us. His experiences transcend being just his, due to his anonymity, therefore allowing us to connect and express our own experiences. It's music for the sake of music; expression.
Now, having talked through Euclid as a person, it's time to talk about Euclid and his symmetry. Symmetry in shapes is 'reflections, rotations, translations, and combinations of these basic operations. Under an isometric transformation, a geometric object is said to be symmetric if, after transformation, the object is indistinguishable from the object before the transformation- a copy of the same’. So, of course, this means shapes like squares, rectangles, parallelograms and circles. Circles are a representation of infinity, wholeness, unity and loops. What does Euclid do? Loop itself (starts and ends with B major, which also happens to be the same chord that TNDNBTG starts with), and loops the three albums together, musically and lyrically.
Now, onto Euclid of Megara.
Euclid was born in Megara, Athens and was a follower of Socrates (sneaking into Athens to hear him speak, and he was also present during his death). He is most known for his philosophy that good is the knowledge of simply being and that the opposite of good does not exist, aka evil. The Good is described to be a perfect, eternal, and changeless Form, existing outside space and time. A form of Heaven without a God.
This idea could be linked lore-wise with Sleep Token; Sleep could, in a way, be The Good literally. Bliss. Further, with the idea that there is no actual opposite of good, then how can anything be bad? How can Sleep, as a deity, have bad intentions if there is no actual evil?
So far, with these two notable figures in mind, we can perceive Euclid as one of two ways (and there are more ways to come). Euclid can be seen as quite literally being a form of symmetry; a parallel that Vessel lays his life on because it brings all of the produced albums, all of his stories, together. Or, we can think of Euclid as Vessel. This brings me to @euclidsvessel's post on their theory on Euclid; what if Euclid was Vessel’s name before he became a vessel?
The theory that Euclid could be Vessel’s old name is not only extremely insightful, but very plausible as well. They explained their points very well in their original post, and I don't want to repeat what they’ve already said, so I do implore you to go read that! It's not detrimental to needing to understand this post, but I highly recommend it. Despite this, I am here to both support their argument and bring my own comparison. Take a look at the cover art for Euclid:
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Let me repeat the lesser-known definition of Euclid; a copy of the same. A clone. A replacement. Held in the right hand is the decapitated head of Vessel's old (2nd gen.) mask. Specifically, the one that covers his mouth; the version that relinquishes the most amount of humanity. The album art is a representation of change portrayed in a symbolically gory way. Beheading, depending on the era you’re working from, symbolises both vengeance as well as a form of purification. By cutting off the head, you remove any ‘unholy’ thoughts. It's also among one of the most horrific and humiliating ways of killing someone (since it was typically done publicly, and sometimes the heads were placed on spikes of battlements as a warning).
Furthermore, there's a theory that's popped up a couple of times, lore-wise, that Vessel is not the first person to be turned into a vessel of Sleep, and he certainly won't be the last. So, considering the literal album art illustrates a replacement of Vessel, I’d say that theory is pretty much confirmed. In conclusion, the album art can either be interpreted as how Vessel will eventually be discarded and replaced by another vessel, or how Vessel himself will change, for better or for worse; clawing out of his own skin to become “someone new”.
So, to compare the idea of Euclid being Vessel’s old name, and to create the third perception of what or rather, who, Euclid is, what if Euclid will be the eventual replacement for Vessel?
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evermore-crow · 2 years
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Leigh Bardugo said some of her favorite Six of Crows scenes are in S&B S2…
I may not survive 2023, people.
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thesleepy1 · 9 months
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Bun(s) In The Oven
A/N: What am I doing instead of sleeping? A) Working, B) Writing. or C) Waking Lord Cthulhu from his slumber so that he may reclaim the throne. If you guessed B, then you’d be correct! Hahaha, I really do need sleep. And they call me the Sleepy One! Anon Requested. (Also, I haven’t had the time to sit down and watch season three yet, so please no spoilers.) 
Pairings: Eskel x Reader 
Summary: You were supposed to have nine months to prepare. You were counting on those nine months. You were not a procrastinator by any means, but with something as important as having a baby you were going to make good use of all the available time to prepare for the arrival of your new baby. Nine months. Not six. 
Or, “Could you write something for eskel when his significant other is in labour. I don’t know if he’d be chill and prepared or in total panic mode. Either wait I’d like to read it 😂
Word count: 930
Warnings: birth? 
At six months pregnant you were past the point of still coming up with names for your little one and were well into the process of setting up the nursery. In the beginning, there was fear that the baby would not survive. Miscarriages were common in the village you grew up in and a human pregnant with a witcher baby was unprecedented. Anyone pregnant with a witcher baby was unheard of. There was no way of knowing what to expect.
When you and Eskel had first learned of the little seed that was sprouting in you, you both laughed it off as some practical joke. It wasn’t until months later that you realized there was something going on. The bump proved that there wasn’t some prank being played on you. You were well and truly pregnant. 
First there was denial. That was to be expected. 
Then came the acceptance. 
After that it was just full blown panic. 
You were a bard for heaven’s sake. A baby was not on your bucket list. When you had first met Eskel and decided to tag along on his adventures, you did not realize that having a baby along the way was a part of it. 
But after that…? 
It was quite nice. 
Sure it was unexpected and neither you nor Eskel had planned for it, but it really wasn’t a bad thing. The pregnancy didn’t stop you from doing what you loved. You still performed and sang to your heart's content. In some taverns you even made more coin. Some were from concerned onlookers and some were from others who got off at the sight of you. Either way, money was money. 
And Eskel. Dear sweet Eskel. He grew to love you even more than before if that was possible. It was no worry of yours that Eskel didn’t truly love you. He showed it to you each and every day. But after the two of you had gotten over your panic, he became the most doting and kind and loving witcher possible. It could have been sickening if you didn’t enjoy every last moment of it. 
So yes. You were past the point of panic and name searching. With something around thirteen more weeks to go, you were still working on adding things to the nursery. Most of the essentials were there already. Now was just time to decorate and fill the room with as many toys as you possibly can.  No one was going to stop you, least of all Eskel. 
If anyone were looking for the two of you, then they could find you in the nursery happily sewing up another stuffed animal or embroidering yet another piece of  clothing. Eskel could be found doing the same. Despite his large frame, he had such a talent for needle work. 
You were working on turning shorn wool into wool when you suddenly felt a wetness burst from you followed by intense pain. Before you realized what was going on with your body Eskel leapt up from his seat. 
“I need to get a healer,” Eskel announced, his breaths coming in unevenly. “I can’t leave you here alone—someone needs to get the healer. Lambert! Geralt!” 
That was another thing. Eskel’s brothers were there every step of the way. And they were going to be there for this step too, despite its premature timing. 
“Are you sure? I—we still have weeks, don’t we?” you asked him, face grimacing in pain despite your disbelief. “We-we haven’t finished processing the food for stores or-or finished all the clothes—” You were cut off by an unbearable pain flaring from within. “Dear gods, heavens above. The little one is coming. The little one is coming!” 
“Geralt! Lambert! Vesemir!” Eskel called out to his brothers. His voice boomed in the hallways, sounds bouncing off the stone hallways and carrying towards the other witchers in the keep. Before long, they came running to your aide. 
“Healers. We need to go find a healer.” Eskel was firm. He left no room for argument. Lambert rushed out back the way he came. He was the smallest and fastest of the witchers. He would reach the town at the bottom of the mountain first and hurry back with a healer or two. Eskel had to believe that his brother would. 
“Geralt,” Eskel began.
“Anything you need,” Geralt replied. 
What happened next was beyond you. The pain was indescribable. You knew that you would not remember much of the process. At least, that was what the other mothers had told you. They said that the mind would forget so the body continued.
However, right there and then you were unbearably hurt. And you were vocal about it. 
“Great saints above! Get—” you were screaming. It stung the witcher’s ears but you didn’t have a spare thought to care. “Get them out of me!” 
“T-them?”
It was Geralt who faltered at that.
Years later you would all sit around a table topped with a hearty meal. Roasted elk, mashed sweet potatoes, and mead would be overflowing. Altina and Anna would be given cider that had not ripen into the sort that would make them dizzy and drunk. Everyone would laugh at the way that Geralt had stuttered at the prospect of two. 
Eskel would laugh the loudest. For he was the proudest of the fact. He was a father of two beautiful, healthy girls and he couldn’t be happier. 
No one will bring up the fact that Eskel had almost fainted when Anna's head was crowning and the healer was still twenty minutes away.
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daevastanner · 2 months
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Halfbreeds - Chapter 2
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r h y s a n d 
two and a half years later
The doors to Rhysand’s study in the river house flew open and Gwyneth Berdara came staggering in.
He sat up in his high back chair, immediately taking note of her frantic eyes and ragged breaths. 
“Gwyn?” Rhys said, rising from his seat.
She strode across the carpet, rounding his desk to come stand before him. 
Gripping the High Lord by his shoulders, Gwyn breathed, “He knows.”
Rhysand blinked once before the sentence registered, before he understood her mortified expression. Azriel knew. He knew Gwyn was his mate.
“How?” he asked, bending his head to better meet Gwyn’s eyes.
“We were on our date at Rita’s,” she began, hands falling slack at her sides, “and he left to get us m-more drinks. Then this man came over and he asked if I was lonely.”
Rhys felt his lips pull down in a frown.
“I told him I was waiting on my date, b-but then he reached for my hand on the table and-and said that he would have me back before my date noticed I was gone.” Her breath hitched again. “He tried to pull me out of my chair, but Azriel came over in a flash and just-just started b-beating him. He wouldn’t stop and-and Rita had to get security to pull him off the male.”
Swearing under his breath, Rhys made a mental note to check with Rita and try and identify whatever male had attempted to ruin his brother and Gwyn’s first date. Rhys had never seen the shadowsinger more nervous than when he’d planned to ask the Valkyrie out. It had taken an impressive amount of self-control for the High Lord not to confess to the former-priestess that she would soon be on the receiving end of Azriel’s full romantic attention. 
“They took him out and I followed but… but when I met Azriel on the street he just started staring at me,” Gwyn continued. Her throat slid. “And then… then he just said it. He said I was his mate.”
Mother… The bond had finally snapped for his brother. It had been two and a half years since Sangravah, six months since Azriel had begun to know Gwyn more intimately, going so far as to dance with her at Nesta and Cassian’s ceremony just three months ago. And now he finally knew that they were mates.
“What’d you say?” Rhys asked gently.
“I couldn’t lie.” Tears spilled from Gwyn’s eyes. “I said… that I knew.” 
“And?” 
Gwyn’s lower lip wobbled. “He-he asked if I was waiting until I thought he was worthy to know the truth. If I didn’t see him as a suitable mate. I–I ran. Evaded him in the crowd and–and came here. He’s… Rhysand, he was wild.” A hopeless sniffle. “He said he didn’t care about bonds anymore. I thought he–”
“He’s not thinking straight,” Rhys said, trying to keep his voice even for her sake. “He meant what he said to you about the bond not making a difference, alright? I know because he’s said as much to me and Feyre as well.”
“Then why were the first words out of his mouth–”
“Because he’s overwhelmed.  You may not remember because of everything else that happened that night, but the bond snapping is overwhelming. Especially for males.” He lowered his voice, “Especially for a male who has spent five centuries convinced he would never have one because he was unworthy.” 
Gwyn’s gaze darted about the room uncertainly before landing on Rhys once more. “I’m not ready, Rhys. I wanted to court him before we discussed the bond.”
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, thumb stroking a soothing circle on her bicep as he grimaced. “In my experience the bond has little regard for your plans. You’re going to have to adapt.” 
Her stare was pleading. “I need time, Rhys. And I need him to calm down before I can even begin to consider–”
Rhys pulled her to his chest, enfolding her in an embrace. She accepted immediately, face buried in the dark material of his jacket, fingers bunching in the fabric beneath his shoulder-blades. 
The High Lord rested his chin atop her head. “Leave it to me.” 
“What?” she asked, voice muffled by his chest. 
Feyre, Rhys shut his eyes and reached out to his mate’s mind. If you look out the parlor window is there a very determined looking shadowsinger stalking across the grounds?
A pause.
It would appear so, Feyre whispered into his mind, shall I stall him?
Read the rest on Ao3
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