#spice's monster month

[woodlandwrites]

i. mind over matter

aphrodite!reader x luke castellan

pre-tlt, characters 18+, mdni, def going to be a pt.2

warnings: cursing, whole lotta impertinence!

2.7k read - unedited

You have been plagued by flocks of doves and Luke Castellan. So Aphrodite decides to meddle a little a lot in your love life. Who needs memories anyway? Unfortunately, the only person you find comfort in - is the very person you hate.

A/N: first fic in a loooong time - stick with me here. there will be more parts and maybeee some spice? anyways hope you enjoy!

You’d like to think that Aphrodite loved the game of making you miserable. In retrospect, you hated your mother. She was a hard act to follow. 

Don’t jump to conclusions - you loved your cabin. Your brothers and sisters were wonderful - not vain like most campers would say. No, that was not an issue. The problem started with one slender, curly haired, crooked smile boy - Luke Castellan. He was the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood and the bane of your existence. 

Luke was an astonishingly aggravating self-centered egotistical bigot. 

“Why do you hate him so much,” Silena asked one day out of the blue. You both sat in the stands watching Luke teach his swordsmanship class. You pondered her question for a while.

“Because. He confuses me - and aggravates me constantly. I have never met anyone so full of themselves in my entire life. He is Narcissus reborn again. It also does not help that he is a complete jerk,” you nodded as you ate another fresh strawberry. Silena pondered on your words.

“Are you sure this has nothing to do with mom and the whole..argument,” she said in a cautionary tone.

Silena was the only one who knew about you and Aphrodite’s - complicated past. To be fair - she didn’t know the entire truth. The prophecy, the impertinence, all the bullshit. However, she did know that your shoulders seemed to tense every time Aphrodite’s name was mentioned. 

“I mean every time I have talked to him at camp counselor meetings he seems like an alright guy.

Silena - forever the optimist. Sometimes when you looked at her through the corner of your eye she resembled your mother. She had this soft tone and locks of hair that seemed to always catch the wind just right. Yeah, no wonder Luke was nice to her. Selina was extremely beautiful - Beckendorf struck gold. 

“Yeah, I can see right through the façade-” you were cut off by a dove landing next to you. He started pecking at your strawberries mindlessly. Silena stifled a small giggle. 

“It is funny when it isn’t happening to you. The bastards have been following me around for days,” you said annoyed.

You tried scaring the bird away - only for more to return. After a couple minutes an estimated 20 doves flocked around you mimicking every move. 

“Go away!” you screamed - only for the feathered friends to cock their heads in curiosity. By now, the entire arena seemed to convert their attention to you. 

“Hey! I heard if they shit on your head it’ll bring good luck,” Luke echoed watching amused.

He leaned against his sword in a cocky manner. What an asshole - you hated when he did that. The other campers seemed to laugh along. 

“Up yours, Castellan,” you yelled with a face the color of cherries. 

The doves had now increased their army to a solid 50 - all looking to you for a further instruction. Doves had followed you around your entire life - a gift your mother had bestowed to you. The unfortunate part was that they were pretty much the most non obedient monsters on the entire planet. You never had truly understood why they would appear - most of the time it was a random occurrence. Of course - Luke was always there to revel in your misfortune. You still had not forgotten when the doves caused a complete riot last month at dinner - leaving quite a mess for you to clean up. The younger campers were still traumatized. 

That was the thing about doves - they were just like your mother. At first they are nice to look at, almost sweet. That is until they turn into vicious assailants from Tartarus (Silena says you overreact). They also annoy you - another common attribute with your mother. 

“For Gods sake just leave!,” you yelled again, stomping off, bidding Silena goodbye.

You did not want to continue being entertainment for the rest of the campers. The doves seemed to take the hint - maintaining their place in the stands. You were sure there were some week old snacks stuffed between the seats the rotted things could ravish on. Luke chuckled before turning his attention back to his students. 

The sun was setting and soon it would be dinner - but you still sat in bed thinking about what Silena had mentioned early about your mom. Maybe it was your nerves - but you knew a visit soon would be unavoidable. The doves only confirmed your suspicion. It was rare for gods to visit Camp Half-Blood, at least publically. The closest thing the camp had to godliness was Mr. D - what a joke. However, you knew your mother and her constant desire to meddle with your life. 

Dinner went without a hunch - except for the Stoll twins starting a food fight at the Hermes table. You loved quiet nights like these where the summer breeze feels like a warm hug. Silena nudged you - reading her expression you knew she was inquiring about the events from earlier. A shrug sufficed. You were so caught up in laughing with your siblings you failed to notice the yelling from the other side of the pavilion. 

“One of the Ares girls was flirting with Luke after you left today - Charlie and I could not help but laugh. It was so awkward,” Silena mentioned.

 There were a couple of murmured sounds and gawking from your siblings - which was the usual. If there was one thing they loved it was - well - love. However this subject rubbed you the wrong way - maybe it was just Luke’s name being mentioned.

It felt like a suffocating gut punch and it was most likely your mothers doing. If there was anything she loved more it was demigod love - the trials and tribulations - and of course the unfortunate ends. It quite literally made you sick. But why did Luke have to be roped in it and moreover - why did you care? You smiled and nodded - trying to pay attention and not let the thoughts take over. 

“Get these goddamn things off of me!,” a familiar voice yelled in annoyance.

So wrapped up in thought - you failed to care - assuming it was a practical Hephaestus joke with an Ares kid. Selina quickly nudged you pointing towards the Hermes table - for quite an interesting scene. Luke being attacked by a merciless army of doves. 

“Hey Castellan, let them shit on your head - heard it was good luck!,” the words reflected from just a few hours prior.

You couldn’t help but giggle - it was nice not being the receiver of dove aggravated assault (as Beckendorf had termed it). It was also nice not to be the joke for once - everyone laughing at someone else for a change was different. 

“Call the damn things off,” he struggled - yelling your name in the process.

“Why do you automatically assume I am the one who set them off? They just do what they want!” you retorted.

 Silena looked at you - questioning your motives. He struggled even more as the doves thrashed him around - seemling gaining confidence in their blows. They seemed - deadly - more than before. Silena muttered your name.

“You have to try,” Silena persuaded. Reluctantly you obeyed - knowing she was being more serious than she was putting on. 

“Stop!” you yelled sternly to the winged creatures.

Like usual - they did not obey. Unfortunately, they keep going - tearing Luke’s shirt in the process. He held himself quite well against dove assassins  - a fact you did not want to admit to yourself. 

“παύω!” You spoke - pleading that it would end.

It was all your mothers fault. She wanted you to be miserable. She wanted to ruin your night, humiliate you - and to hurt Luke. You weren’t sure why that last part bothered you so much.

 “Φεύγω!” you screamed once more in an earthshaking tone.

The doves dissipated automatically. Like literally - poof - into dust. Again - the entire camp had its eyes on you - what else was new?

“What is wrong with you,” Luke questioned - still astonished at the sheer power of your voice - that very voice that made doves disintegrate. You slowly looked up at his disheveled appearance - he looked worse.

Beautiful. 

You wish that voice in your head would go suck a dick!

“Shows over, enjoy your dessert,” you said bitterly to the crowd taking a bow.

Silena yelled your name but you had already darted towards the woods. You could hear the muttering of the crowd questioning the evening entertainment. You could not seem to care. 

You took a seat in the sand on the beach overlooking the shore. The moonlight seemed to make the water sparkle like diamonds. You felt almost calm here - no one to distract you from your thoughts. Why did his words strike you like a knife? He might as well plant backbiter into your back, it would hurt less. It all led to the proper question - why? Why would the doves attack him anyway? They had never done anything quite so ruthless before - nevertheless to another sole person. 

Then again - it was always about Luke - ever since you got to the infernal camp. He was probably celebrated for his brave victory in the battle of the doves - hoisted up by other campers. You suppose a feast in his honor was in order. 

“You think such unhappy thoughts,” an angelic voice sang from the sea. 

Your attention turned towards a bundle of sea foam. The foam began to sparkle and mangle to take the shape of a woman the closer it got to shore. Soon after your mother - Aphrodite stood before you - in all her glory.

“I thought seafoam was just whale jizz,” you spoke casually. You chucked at yourself that was a good one!

Of - fucking - course. Your mother was behind the entire dove fiasco - you called it. You should start placing bets at this point. 

“Most would be labeled impertinent with that attitude - especially with a God.” 

“I am impertinent.” You shrugged, pulling your knees to your chest. Maybe if you really ignored her she would disappear. 

“I will not disappear yet - we have much to discuss.” 

“Get out of my head.” 

“I heard what occurred tonight at dinner. Shame, doves are very gentle creatures.”

A dove magically appeared in her hands, letting out a soft coo. You cringed. If you saw another dove tonight - you might just roast it and eat it. 

“So that was you?” You asked venomously.

“Well thanks mom! Now the entire camp thinks I tried to kill the golden boy with a league of killer doves. They all think I am absolutely crazy.”

“I did nothing, my child.” You gawked at her - she paused to collect her thoughts.

“However, you might want to look within yourself before you spit accusations that are not true. I merely gave you a gift - how you use it is at your own expense.” She finished. 

“But I don’t control those horrid things - they just show up and do whatever. Why would I even attack Luke with a bunch of wimpy doves?”

That was your mother, having the audacity to say you caused the incident. That it was all your fault. 

“Love, perhaps?” Her eyes seemed to glitter at the thought. 

“No.” Ugh, not this again, you thought.

“Doves are a mere - personification of one’s inner love. That is why I gave you the gift - so your innermost feelings can never be bottled. That does horrid things to one’s complexion.” 

“Well thanks for the shitty gift, mother. Next time maybe a pair of socks will do the trick.” 

“Why do you insist on denying who you are? Denying what you are destined to become? Denying yourself the love of the century?”

“Why love someone if they eventually will die.” It was true. Your father had died when you were young - leaving you an orphan. Your demigod friends you made throughout the years died horrible unspeakable deaths.

“Isn’t that all the more fun?” 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you? You just love to see me suffer?”

“You’re being rash.” She fired back.

“Rash? Where have you been?” You scoffed at your godly mother.

“Child, I do not write destiny - I only enforce it. I know you more than you would like to admit, sweet dove. And you - are in love with the child of Hermes.”

 Apollo could’ve shot you through the chest - it would have felt better. 

“Mother, you have it mixed up - I do not have any feelings for Luke. You’re just making things up because you are bored and need some excitement. Please go back to Olympus and meddle with someone else’s life,” you stated. You staggered to your feet dusting the sand off. 

Before you could walk away a bolt of pure energy hit you in your spine. You flew to your feet hitting the ground with a hard thud. In a blur your mother was standing proud above your feet - surrounded in a pink aura. 

“Luke Castellan, he will keep you safe - and you will keep him steady.” 

You might have thought to curse at her - but you couldn’t speak - let alone move. She had disappeared from vision leaving only a dove in her wake. The pain - was excruciating - like being electrocuted a million times. Your ears rang terrible tunes as you tried to level yourself - only to fall back down. The world was spinning at an unmeasurable pace. You could hear shrill screaming - or was it yours? You weren’t even sure who you were? Only images of dark curls, broad shoulders, and crooked smiles flashed through your vision. 

A quake of footsteps running towards the shore were felt as you thrashed in the sand. Voices - yelling a name - whose name? You couldn’t recall. All you knew was darkness. 

“Y/N?!” a feminine voice called. You could feel her hands shake your shoulder violently - it felt like knives.

You heard screams - this time knowing it was your shrill cry. You pushed her away with force. You backed away, crawling backwards in desperation. 

Once your vision returned you focused to see a swarm of kids all in orange shirts - staring at you in shock. The girl who touched you - you could only assume was kneeling in the sand in front of you. She seemed to be pleading.

“Stay away, please,” you pleaded with tears streaming from your eyes. You weren’t sure what had happened but you knew you had never felt pain so deeply. 

“Y/N, please you were screaming. We only want to make sure you are okay. We can go to the infirmary and figure it out,” the girl reached out only for you to retreat more. You hyperventilate on your own words. 

“What’s going on?” another voice asked with urgency from beyond the crowd.

Every child seemed to turn their attention to focus on the male figure. Pushing his way through the crowd - he became shocked at the scene before him.

However, you felt as if all the oxygen had left your body - leaving you limp. You felt as if a hand had grabbed your heart and ripped it in two. He was the one - the one you had seen in your visions. 

“Y/N?” he questioned - half concerned, half annoyed. His chocolate eyes seemed to lock ever so easily with yours. He was indeed the most beautiful man you had ever seen - like a carving of marble. Your soul ached. Without a thought - on instinct alone - you ran. He was engulfed in a desperate hug - his shoulder muffled your pitiful cries. 

“Please, you’re the only one who can help.” You could feel the eyes on the two of you - the gasps were hard to ignore. He went stiff in his posture - not sure how to react. Silence fell over the entire shore, only the crashing of waves in the background. 

“Y/N what is going on? Is this some sort of prank?” he asked in disbelief. 

He had never seen you like this - so scared. Some small part of him wanted to scoop you up, hold you tight, and tell you everything would be okay. He wanted to tell you how he would fix all your problems - just so he would never see you cry again. Although these feelings were so suppressed he restrained.

Gods you were beautiful. 

“I- I don’t know who Y/N is. I don’t know anyone. I don’t know me.” 

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #pjo fanfic #pjo #Spotify

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal

A/N: This is a working title. I reserve the right to change it going forward, lol. This is also my first AA fic! Can't believe it took me this long. Also feel free to note any other tags I may have missed. I'll add them as I go.

Rating: E Word count: 5.1k Pairing: Ascended Astarion/Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, post-canon, PiV sex, creampie, angst, stalking behavior, obsessiveness, possessiveness, manipulative behavior (overall A's not really the greatest in this), use of derogatory language (though not at anyone specifically), messy break-up, depictions of gore, break-up (maybe make-up?) sex

Summary: Astarion has performed the Rite, becoming someone unrecognizable. Tav leaves him after settling their business with the Netherbrain, refusing his proposition to become his consort. She uses these last 6 months to heal her broken heart, mourning all they were and what they could have been. Hopefully all her hard work has paid off, because he's decided he wants her back and drops in for a visit.

♥ Next Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

“It's awfully dangerous for such delectable morsels to leave their windows open this time of night.”

The whimsical voice comes from behind. With it, a rush of cold air sweeps through the quaint upstairs bedroom. Curtains lining the double panes of the front windows dance as the breeze blows in. Papers on the dresser scatter about the floor. 

A young woman dressed in a sheer linen nightgown sits at her vanity, combing through her long red hair, when she freezes.

A familiar scent dances beneath her olfactory nerves - heady, rich, citrus. She breathes deeply, the warm spice of the cologne sweeping through her. Waves of heat pulse throughout her body as her ears pick up the sound of footsteps drawing closer.

With a sigh, the woman closes her eyes as the assailant reaches her position, their footsteps coming to a halt behind her.

It's him, she realizes. She’s never been more sure of anything else in her life.

Many months have passed since their last meeting. Passion burned as hot as an Infernal forge on that night. Promises of love, of pleasure, of power poured freely from their lips as their bodies intertwined. At that moment, she was prepared to give him everything - her life, her freedom, her body, soul. 

She would have, had she not come to realize it was all an elaborate farce.

As she cracks open her eyes, daring to look up, the woman catches his reflection in the vanity mirror. With an audible gasp, it quickly dawns on her that this is the first time she’s seeing his face reflected in a glass pane.

Their eyes meet in the mirror, her chest suddenly heaving.

It is him.

And by the Gods, he's even more devastatingly handsome than she remembers.

“You never know what sort of monsters are out lurking the streets, hm?” he purrs, bringing his face close to her ear.

Assaulted once more by the warm spice of his cologne, her head spins. 

“Astarion,” the woman whispers, nearly breathless. “What are you doing here?”

Craning his head, Astarion dips down into the nape of her neck, inhaling deeply. Her pulse quickens as he draws near, heart hammering away in her ribcage. His lips curl, fangs gleaming in the faint candlelight illuminating the room as his tongue sweeps over his teeth.

“I needn't an invitation to go where I please now, pet,” he pants against her neck. 

A cold shudder shoots down her spine.

There was a time when her body would come alight from his many terms of endearment.

Darling, dear, sweet, pet, love.

Love.

“Nothing special, of course. You're only the first person I truly care for.”

His words echo in the far recesses of her mind. The words of her companion and partner, her lover… of a man who no longer exists.

That night in the ritual chamber, he changed.

The sound of the staff hitting the stone floor reverberates off ancient walls. Cazador and his spawn playing their parts, bound together in blood by the Rite. Astarion, levitating at the center, eyes burning red as an aura of blood envelops him. He's chanting the words - the Infernal seance that was once meant to be his end. 

Her tongue lay heavy in her mouth. Words fly across her mind; desperate pleas begging him to reconsider, to stop this. None ever make it past her lips.

Suddenly, the spawn pop. One after the other. 

Pop, pop, pop.

Astarion laughs, loud and boisterous, relishing the new found power that comes with each death.

Finally comes Cazador's turn.

He screams - a true blood-curdling scream. The type you hear moments before a person knows death has come, all too late. His voice carries on as she stands in the chamber, helplessly watching Cazador succumb to the ritual. He bursts at the seams into a pile of pulverized matter, dripping onto the floor below, completely unrecognizable.

Then suddenly, the room is engulfed by a haunting silence.

The Ascension… is complete.

The aura around Astarion fades and he drops down onto the platform below his feet. He remains kneeling for a moment. The sound of his breathing is all that fills the chamber, companions too stunned to speak. 

He rises, slowly turning to face their leader. Looking upon his face, she sees the horrible truth lay bare before her.

Her lover is no more.

She's mourned him, the promise of them, ever since that night. Cried tears until her head throbbed and her face swelled, cried until nothing but sleep could soothe the ache in her heart.

And here he stands behind her, a scowl littering his visage as their eyes meet yet again in the mirror.

Her heart pounds in her throat, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She swallows, asking, “Why did you come here, Astarion?”

Astarion pulls himself back, taking a few paces away from the woman. Folding his arms over his chest, he replies, “My darling Tav, I've come to take you home.”

“Home? I am home,” insists Tav. Turning her body, still seated in her chair, she scans him over.

Moonlit curls sweep elegantly across his forehead, framing his face. Ruby gems glint in the dim light of the room. He's wearing a black and silver doublet, blood-red dragons delicately embroidered on the lapel. Every bit elegant and refined; elite.

Astarion's face softens. He draws closer again, Tav’s breath hitching as his hand cups her chin. Tilting her face up toward his, he states, “I've given you more than enough freedom.” He cranes his head, bringing his lips a breath above her own as he whispers, “Don't you think?”

The velvet grace of his voice makes her dizzy. Tav realizes she feels heat radiating off his skin as their faces draw closer in proximity; a stark contrast to his usual aura. Her face burns - a fire that quickly spreads down into her belly. Tav tries to speak but Astarion closes the distance, lips capturing hers in a delicate embrace. His kiss is soft, alluring, unhurried. 

Gentle, she thinks to herself. He's being so gentle.

“Astarion-” she protests, logic returning to her as she breaks the kiss. Tav scans his face, drawing her head back. Heavy lids fall over his eyes as they transfix upon her lips. He’s hungry, in more ways than one.

She knows that look. It's the very same he'd give her night after night in his tent, when all he wished was to share his body with her. Instead, they'd find other ways to partake in the ecstacy of one another until they were left breathless and panting.

But that was long ago.

Astarion's tongue darts out to lick over his lips as he says, “A lord is nothing without his dearest consort.” He moves to kiss her again, but Tav quickly ducks out of reach. She stands, hands clenched in tight fists.

“No,” she insists, locking eyes with him. She furrows her brow. “I will not be made into your personal plaything!”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest. Astarion tilts his head, a smirk forming on his face. “‘Plaything?’” he reiterates. “Do you believe I think that little of you?” Astarion brushes his knuckles over Tav’s cheek. “My darling treasure,” he begins, “I have many playthings, though none are quite like you.”

Tav’s pupils blow wide.

Astarion means to make her jealous with talk of other lovers. He means to fill her mind with images of him making love to unknown beings. To make her think of him finding pleasure in others who are not her.

She will not rise to it.

“Your chosen harlots aren’t enough?” Tav sneers. “I thought Lord Astarion Ancunín had everything he desired?”

With a scoff, Astarion replies, “You don't get it, do you?” A twinge of impatience can be heard as he says, “You helped make me what I am. We are bound to one another, until the end of time.”

Tav shudders as his hands come up to hold her face. She pulls in a sharp breath, expecting the cold sting of death from his usual chilled palms. Yet, they're completely warm as they cradle her jaw. Another reminder that he is now very much changed. Alive. His cologne assaults her senses once more and her eyes flutter closed as she settles into the strange comfort of his touch.

“My heart will never stop calling for you,” Astarion speaks softly. “No other can satisfy that hunger.” He brushes over her bottom lip with the pad of a thumb and feels her tremble below him. “You are to be my consort, my bride,” he insists, voice stern but low. “That is your role in this.”

Tav falters beneath his touch, allowing herself to be walked back to the wall next to the vanity. Her hands come up to wrap around his wrists. “Such honeyed words,” she retorts. “If I didn't know any better, I'd actually believe you.” Her back connects with the wall and she gasps.

“Tav, look at me,” Astarion demands with urgency. She doesn't comply, turning her head to the side. Slipping a hand from her cheek to grasp her chin, he forcibly turns her head back toward his. “Look at me!” he spits again.

Hesitant to look upon Astarion’s face, Tav cracks her eyes open. Opening them fully, it's not anger that she finds there. Her stomach flips. No, not anger or even disappointment. Instead, she sees… vulnerability.

“I wish I could replace you. I’ve tried,” Astarion bites out through clenched teeth. His face falls as his eyes settle on her. “Nothing can fill the void your absence has left.” He shakes his head slightly before adding, “Something within me screams for you, as if I were alone in a decrepit crypt and only you can save me.”

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She feels as though she may suffocate, or that her heart may give out at a moment's notice. Tav begins to feel the tendrils of desire dance across her abdomen. They start low in her groin and quickly spread upward, causing a rhythmic contraction of her walls. She cannot fall for this again, she simply must not. All he's done is spout pretty words and step into her presence. And yet…

His breath pants against her face as he rests their foreheads together. The scent of freshly chewed mint whirls beneath her nose. Her vision spins.

In her stupor, Tav hardly notices Astarion's hands slipping under her nightgown. His palms rest on the backs of her thighs and he lifts a leg, allowing more room to slot himself against her core.

Tav groans as their centers meet, arching her back. Her chest presses into his and she moans, hands seeking purchase in his hair as he rocks himself into her once again.

“Astarion,” she pleads, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. A bolt of pleasure shoots up from her groin. She feels her walls clench again in desperation as his hardened cock brush against her cunt, straining against the fabric of his trousers. Her body remembers him and is all too eager to receive him once more.

Astarion knows. He recalls exactly how her body reacts almost on instinct to his touch. He pants against her lips with each roll of his hips into hers. “Come home with me, Tav,” he groans out. “Please, darling. I need you.”

His voice comes out ragged, stressed. Astarion leans against her chest, slipping his face into the nape of her neck. Inhaling deeply, a fire begins smoldering low in his belly. Her scent is of fresh mountain dew in early spring. Floral, sweet, and holding the promise of possibility. His cock twitches in anticipation.

Tav moans, loud and unfiltered. Her knees grow weak and she nearly buckles off the wall if Astarion weren't holding her up. She throws her head against the wall behind her, back arching once again.

“I mourned you,” Tav tells him, nearly breathless. “I mourned us.” She doesn't protest as Astarion lifts her other leg to join in locking around his waist. Tav doesn't fight how he grinds himself into her again, trapping her between himself and the wall. She feels faint, her vision growing fuzzy at the edges, though she manages to huff out, “You don't get to come here and make demands of me, Astarion.”

Astarion pulls his head back leisurely to meet her eyes. “You left me, remember?” he says low in his throat.

“What choice did you leave me with?” Tav exclaims in frustration. “You wanted me to sacrifice my life in order to prove my love for you. You would have never asked that of me before that accursed Rite!”

“I only wish to live out the rest of eternity together,” Astarion replies. “I promised I would protect you, that no harm would ever come to you.”

Tav stares into his face as realization registers in her mind, mouth falling slightly agape. She's gotten used to reading between the lines of his words, so often laced with duplicate meaning. True to his former life as a rogue of the night.

Her mortality is a threat to his oath. 

Astarion cannot fathom going through the rest of time without her. Or, he does, and the thought is too painful for him to ever risk becoming reality. That is what he means to say, though apparently incapable in this new state.

“Isn't this what you wanted?” he asks, quietly. “To be together? Forever?”

Tears well in the creases of her eyelids and Tav sobs. “You are a fool, Astarion Ancunín,” she chides.

Astarion hovers his mouth mere millimeters above hers. “Only for you,” he says. “Always for you.” He captures her lips in a gentle embrace, breathing deeply through his nose as he pushes further into the kiss.

Tav moans into his mouth as she slackens her jaw, creating enough room for their tongues to begin exploring one another. She gasps as Astarion carries her from the wall to her bed on the far side of the room, grabbing at his shoulders for leverage.

“Tell me I may have you,” he asks, breaking the kiss as he lays her down over the mattress. He climbs over her, mouth descending upon her neck. He peppers chaste kisses along the underside of her jaw.

Tav writhes beneath him, whimpers escaping her throat as he licks and suckles on the delicate flesh of her throat. With resolve quickly waning, her hands find purchase again in silver locks as she finally says, “You may, but only for tonight.”

Astarion freezes above her. Hesitantly, he pulls himself back, looking her over as he begins shrugging off his doublet. “Are you sure?” he inquires softly.

This is the perfect opportunity to ask him to turn and leave. To not start this over again, to not return down a path in which she knows there is no favorable end. Though, Tav also cannot deny just how much she has missed him, as well. 

“It's only sex, Astarion,” she tells him, sitting up to undo the ties of her nightgown. “That's all this will be.”

His hands come to rest atop hers, replacing her motions as he pulls gently at the laces of the gown. With the last tie undone her gown falls open, revealing her bare breasts to his heated gaze. Astarion sucks in a sharp breath as he meets her eyes.

“Only sex,” he ponders aloud as he furrows his brow. “But what if I want-”

“No,” Tav interjects, voice firm. “This is all I can give you. You either take this, or you have nothing.” Her breathing comes uneven as she stares back at him, chest heaving. Her nerves have come alight; she cannot fall in love with him again, but she can at least offer him this.

With a curt nod, Astarion replies, “As you wish.” 

His expression is guarded as he fumbles with the laces of his trousers. He pulls his undershirt up and over his head, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor behind the bed. Standing up, he peels off his boots, pants, and underclothes in one fell swoop. He returns to Tav on the bed as bare as the day he was born, following her eyes as they roam down the long plane of his torso. They come to rest between his thighs.

Astarion’s cock stands ready at attention, jumping in tandem with his heartbeat. Saliva pools thick on her tongue and she slips the nightgown down and off her arms. She's left naked before him, not having time to fully dress before his unexpected visit. Tav hears him groan as he looks her over.

A surprised gasp falls from her mouth as he cups her sex. She feels him drag two fingers through the arousal that has already gathered between her folds, and watches as he brings those same fingers to his mouth. A bolt of desire pulls behind her navel as she watches his slick-soaked fingers slip between his lips. He suckles around them, moaning his approval.

With a wet pop, Astarion pulls the two digits from his mouth and places them against her cunt again. They're saturated with his spittle, softly prodding at her entrance.

“A-ah!” Tav gasps as his fingers sink in. It's only two, but Gods how she's struggling to take them. They glide in and out, Astarion occasionally curling his fingers to pass along the spongy spot inside her that turns her vision white.

It's not long before he's pulling his fingers out and lining himself up along her entrance. Astarion spits into his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes. The weight of his cock slaps down heavily as he drags his length through her slickened folds once, twice, before he's finally slipping into her.

Screwing his eyes shut, Astarion lets out a guttural groan as he feels his tip pop through her tense entrance, her warmth enveloping him as he seats himself a bit further before halting. Her walls spasm wildly around his shaft; it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to sink the rest of himself down into her inviting wet heat.

Tav sighs as she finally adjusts, body relaxing around him. She hadn't necessarily forgotten that taking Astarion is no small feat, though she did forget how it feels to actually do so.

“You can move,” she tells him meekly.

He doesn't respond with words; a simple nod of his head is all Tav gets before he's leaning over her, hips slipping further and further toward the backs of her thighs. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, Astarion pulls her into him, pelvis meeting her backside. He growls, cock twitching as his tip brushes against her cervix. 

Tav shudders under him as he pulls out, feeling the dragging of his length within her cunt, only for him to push back in with added force. Her body jerks upward from the power of his thrust. An audible string of whimpers falls freely from her lips as he does it again, and again, and again.

Astarion catches Tav’s hands as she tries reaching for him, pushing them back toward the bedsheets. Confused by his gesture, Tav tries again, only for Astarion to once more shove her hands off of him.

Stunned, Tav looks at his face. Sweat is beginning to gather along his brow, though he keeps perfect composure. There is no lust nor passion to his expression. He looks… removed. Distant. Aloof.

Just… having sex.

“Astarion?” Tav asks, concerned. “I can't touch you?”

He scoffs above her, grunting as he slams his hips again into hers. “Touch is a rather intimate thing,” he says, sarcasm saturating his tone. “Intimacy isn't welcome when you're just having sex.”

“Stop,” Tav demands, hands pressing against his stomach. Astarion immediately ceases his movements. “This is too cold, Astarion,” she says quietly. “This isn't us.”

Above her, Astarion sucks in a large breath. “It is when it's devoid of emotion,” he clarifies, patience wearing thin. “That's what you wanted, isn't it?” He tilts his head, craning his neck to look down upon her. “Just a quick romp?”

“I-”

Venom seeps from his pores as he quickly adds, “If you were ever curious as to how I treat my harlots, well, now you know. It's rather different from our last time, eh? I wonder why that is?” Astarion feigns an inquisitive glance, placing a finger to the side of his mouth as his lips form into a pout.

“Astarion, I-” 

Tav tries desperately to interject, but is disrupted again by Astarion snapping his fingers. “Oh, I know! It's because I made love to you!” he sneers, lips curling over his fangs as he leans closer to her face. “You were never a conquest to me!” he growls. “Never one night it's best to forget.”

Astarion exhales, eyes falling closed in an effort to regain his composure. “If you insist on me treating you like a whore in a brothel, fine,” he says, “I'll do it. But know it's not done willingly.”

Tav remains silent, words failing her. Her body trembles as the full weight of his confession echoes throughout her mind. Pulling in ragged breaths, she questions, “Would you make love to me again? If I asked?”

Astarion huffs out a laugh, his expression softening. “I would raze an entire city for you,” he confirms. “You need only ask.”

A sense of despair enshrouds her as she stares into his ruby red eyes. He still loves her, Tav realizes. As much as, if not more than, the day she left him. Her head pounds; she needs to stop this from going forward. The voice in her head is begging her not to continue, to not risk reopening the wound she's spent the last six months delicately stitching back together.

Their last night together replays in her thoughts. She recalls the all-encompassing feeling of want that radiated off Astarion, that night. He carried her into a world of pleasure she never dreamed possible, all while singing praises deeply into her ear as he rocked in and out of her core. They joined as one, body and soul. Or so Tav thought, until the following morning.

Astarion looks at her now with that same compassion in eyes. He means what he says; he would destroy anyone and anything should she ask it of him. He's already destroyed himself, all in a vow to protect her.

Choking back a sob, she accepts final defeat in the battle her heart fought so desperately since he first came through her window. “Make love to me then, Astarion,” Tav tells him, pleadingly. “The way you used to.”

The flame of the single candle in the room dances in his eyes. The ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “Oh, my sweet,” he purrs, “There's nothing I'd like more,” Astarion brushes her cheek with the back of a palm. His arousal has flagged, still situated within Tav’s warmth, though it stirs back to life as he captures her lips in a hungry kiss.

Tav groans as she feels Astarion's length swell within her walls, noises swallowed by his mouth over hers. When he grows stiff enough, Astarion gives shallow thrusts between her legs. It isn't long until he's back to full virility, rolling his hips into hers in a steady rhythm.

She cries out as he breaks the kiss, one last deep thrust before he's pulling out of her. Pushing her legs back, knees almost hitting her chest, Astarion slips back into place between her thighs. Tav’s knees are being held up by his shoulders as he bends forward, sliding his cock back into her slickened cunt with ease.

Astarion groans as his cock slides down, down, down until his tip nudges the end of her tunnel. Tav gasps as he settles himself impossibly deeper, hips giving a soft push that leaves her womb pulsing. She claws at Astarion’s back when he pulls his hips up slightly, only to crash into her again.

Astarion rests his forehead against Tav’s. He drops his hips repeatedly into her center, eyes locked with hers as he does. The air pushed from her lungs from each of his thrusts passes over his face and he greedily sucks it in. Her face is flushed shades of red and pink as blood rushes through her veins, singing her desire loudly in his ears.

Nails sink into the tender scars on his back and Astarion hisses. With half open eyelids, Tav struggles to keep his gaze, pleasure threatened to overwhelm her. But when she finally does, she sees it. There, in his eyes, is him. The man she fell in love with. 

Astarion's eyes are soft, round, pleading. The eyes of the man she gave herself to repeatedly all those months ago. 

Each night she spent being devoured by his mouth, pulling the very essence of her body into his, she felt it - the sanctity of her oath dangling in the balance. Should she have stuck to her teachings, Astarion would’ve been staked through the heart at first discovery of his true nature. And yet, night after night, she willingly succumbed to the lustful desires that only her blood could provide him.

She moans as he angles his hips sharply on the next downstroke, the head of his cock brushing deliciously up against her spot. The rhythmic fluttering of her tunnel over his shaft pulls a throaty groan from Astarion, who quickly buries his face into the nape of her neck as the sensation wracks through his body. His arms envelop her torso, using her as leverage to increase the pace of her thrusts.

Tav feels her arousal leaking down the cleft of her ass, carved out from her with each plunge of his cock into her cunt. The tip of him rams against her spot repeatedly and she shakes in his arms, pleasure coiling tightly in her belly with not much left to hold onto. “Astarion,” she pants against his ear, mindlessly mouthing at his lobe. “Gods, Astarion…”

He groans again against her neck, skin muffling most of it. The sounds of their joint arousal fill the room, and Astarion pulls his lips back in anticipation of his impending climax. The smoldering fire in his belly has erupted into hellfire, threatening to consume all and any in its path if not quelled soon.

Fangs press into the delicate skin of her neck and Tav shivers, hands flying into his hair and grasping, pulling. “Do not bite me, Astarion,” Tav says, panicked.

Humming his disapproval, Astarion reluctantly pulls his head away from her neck. He rests his forehead against hers again. “Where do you want me, Tavaria?” The question comes quietly, unguarded. Strained.

Tavaria.

The sound of her full name on his tongue sends pulses of desire through her belly. He's close, Tav realizes. Astarion pants against her face as his thrusts grow more uneven. Moving a hand to his jaw, Tav holds his cheek, rubbing his chin with her thumb. “However you want,” comes her reply.

Astarion shudders, a moan slipping past his lips, eyes rolling to the back of his skull momentarily. He blinks back into focus, chest heaving as his breathing becomes labored. He's barely lifting hips into Tav, instead giving short stuttering thrusts that have his tip kissing her cervical os.

“Tav, please,” he begs. “Tell me.”

Silver strands of hair stick to his sweat-soaked forehead. Brushing them out of the way with a hand, she plants a kiss between his brow. “Inside,” she coos. “It's okay.”

Carnal desire flares behind Astarion's eyes. He grunts, raw and guttural as he dips his head back into the crook of her neck. He feels his cock begin to swell, a telltale sign that his release is imminent.

Tav whimpers as Astarion rams over her pleasure point again and again, the fattened head of his cock dragging along her walls. It doesn't take much longer before she's screaming out her completion below him, nails digging into the skin of his marred back.

Astarion roars out his own climax above her, balls pulling up tightly as fangs sink into the pillow next to her. He floods her channel with his seed, tiny rolls of his hips pulling groans from his chest as he rides out the wave. Tav’s walls are more than willing to massage the rest of his spend from his balls and into her greedy womb.

They lay together panting, post-coital haze in full effect. It isn't until Astarion shifts to pull out his softening member that Tav feels it - his spend dribbling from her entrance and onto the nightgown under her. He's the first to leave the bed, shaking his head while running a hand through tousled locks. Tav watches him disappear into her washroom as she slowly sits herself up onto her elbows.

The sound of water running into the tub can be heard and Astarion reappears in the doorway. He returns to the bed, Tav gasping as he scoops her up into his arms and carries her toward the washroom.

“What are you doing, Astarion?” she asks, mind still clouded by her peak. She loops her hands around his neck, lolling her head against his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles from his chest as he kisses the top of her head. “Taking care of you,” he answers, bringing them both across the threshold of the washroom.

-------------------------------------------

Tav awakens the next morning alone, tucked snuggly in her bed. The events of the night are hazy as she slowly regains consciousness. She doesn't recall when or how she fell asleep. Peeling off the covers and giving herself a quick look over, she realizes she's dressed in her nightgown again. The ties are neatly in place, eerily similar to how she had them before.

Looking around her room, there's no evidence that Astarion had been present. The papers she swore fell to the floor are all stacked neatly on her dresser. The candle has been hushed out, and her windows closed. 

Was it a dream? she ponders, heart rate rising as her confusion grows. 

Her eyes scan the room frantically in an attempt to find a single piece out of place. Finally, she finds the answer she is searching for laying atop her vanity. Rising out of bed, Tav walks over to find a single rose laid across the top of the desk. He was here, Tav notes to herself, bringing the rose to her face. She inhales its sweet scent, dread filling her heart as the heavy weight of last night begins to actualize.

No, it was very real. And it’s only just beginning.

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion angst #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x female tav #my writing #bg3 fanfiction

[dietmtdewbabynewyorkcity]

HOW I’VE BEEN SUCESSFULLY LOSING WEIGHT: Notes from a former binge eater ♥️

*this guide is to show how ~I~ do things and offer advice on how to do it MY way. I am in no way encouraging anyone to do themselves harm. First off,

HEALTH IS WEALTH.

That being said.. this is literally the longest I’ve ever gone without bingeing. It’s just,,, easy this time. Once you get a feel of what it’s like to be skinny you just don’t crave junk as much anymore bc you KNOW it’s not worth it. The trick is to eat clean 90% of the time and allow your favorite treats 10% do the time. Fit them into your calorie limit!!! Here’s some personal favorites that have helped me lose like 20lbs in the past 2 months.

I tend to do one higher- calorie drink during the day (protein shake, Starbucks, etc) and one healthy filling but low cal meal and a sweet snack at the end of the night.

LOW CALORIE 90%

Mediterranean salad (~150): mixed greens, chopped bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, red onion. Little bit of feta cheese. Balsamic vinegar (not dressing or vinegarette!!!!) I don’t add meat but you could totally add chicken for low cal high protein choice. You could also add olives but I don’t fw them.

Chocolate Protein shakes from the gas station (loll). They’re 220 cal on average and a great treat. Strawberry one is good too.

SEAWEED SNACKS they’re literally 30-60 calories for a pack and kill my urge to eat chips!!! Please give them a try!

Soups. Soups that are already portioned and have the calorie amount posted. I add extra seasonings and spice to boost metabolism.

Coffee!! With almond milk and a little coffee creamer. It’s worth the calories if you want a coffee just make one it’s better than going to Starbucks.

Sushi: I’m vegetarian so I get an avocado and cucumber roll. It’s so good with fresh ginger and a little soy sauce. Sometimes I will be craving it allllllll day and have it as my OMAD so rewarding 🥹

Miso soup>>>>>> add tofu and seaweed and onions!! And mushrooms if you like them.

Monster Ultra energy drinks,,,, yeah I know they’re bad for you but I love them.

Fruits!!! I especially love strawberries, watermelon, cherries, blackberries, pineapple and mangoes.

TREATS 10%

Trail mix: dried cherries, pecans, walnuts, pistachios, cashews. High in calories but perfect for killing hunger. High protein keeps you full and muscles strong, high healthy fats will keep your hair and skin and nails beautiful.

Chocolates: SMALL PORTIONS. if you can’t eat just eat a piece without bingeing, do NOT buy a big bag. what I do is I buy a bar of whatever chocolate I’m craving for my bf and we share it piece by piece. Dark chocolate, milk chocolate, white, hazelnut, with coffee beans, with toffee, fruits, chocolate is the best thing ever 🍫

Starbucks! My fav drinks are matcha lattes (hot/iced), iced white chocolate mocha, caramel macchiato, and occasionally a pumpkin spice latte. Peppermint mochas on the holidays. Oat milk always

Baked goods. Same deal as the chocolate, ONLY BUY THE PORTION YOURE GOING TO EAT. If you have been craving a croissant, go get one. One. Don’t buy a whole dozen of them. You will end up bingeing trust me. My favs are cinnamon rolls <3

Habits

I’m going to the gym!!! Consistently for the first time in my life. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. Spend 30 min on the treadmill alternating between incline walking and easy paced jogging. Put on a YouTube video. Wear pink and bring a cute water bottle. You have to make an experience out of it! I stick to cardio and full body stretches plus ocasional (light) strength workouts w my bf.

I don’t drink anymore. Just 🍃. Alc is so high in sugar and carbs and it’s literally poison bro. I know it’s hard to stop but once you do you’ll feel so much better.

I rarely weigh myself. I’m at my bfs house all the time so I only step on my scale maybe 3 times a month. It’s been a game changer!!!

MINDSET

I practice mindfulness and speak kindly to myself. Basically sweetspo + affirmations to myself all the time.

Taking more pride in your appearance will also help motivate you. You think you’ll still want to binge after you took a full body shower, clean PJ’s or outfit, painted your nails, skincare and makeup done, whitened your teeth and lit a candle? No thanks.

Limit stupid, negative, useless media consumption. Watch things that have to do with your hobbies/ interests and your social media algorithms begin to kinda clean themselves up over time. My pages are all about exercise, study blogs, beauty tips and sciencey stuff. No more drama or celebrity nonsense. Cut down your following!!

Remember you only have one life on earth. You’re young and hot once. Don’t you want to grab this chance while you have it? Unfortunately your beauty is your currency especially as a woman, so if there’s anything I can do to give myself a better life I will. Losing just a few pounds of fat will make the craziest difference in ways you’d never expect. Free and discounted stuff. More people smile at you and listen to what you have to say. Both literal and figurative doors will be opened for you.Clothes fit better bc they’re more flattering when your body is fit and healthy. While it feels good to get validation from other people, the best part of it is looking in the mirror and feeling proud instead of ashamed. The inner confidence that comes from successful transformation………….there’s no other feeling that compares. If you know, you know. I’m just saying,, the choice is yours ���🏼‍♀️

#tw ana fast #ed bllog #tw ana shit #tw ed rant #tw restriction #ana rant #ana trigger #ed di3t #i will be thinner #thinspø #low cal food #recipies #low cal restriction #low cal diet #tw ana diary #anablr #anami4 #edtwitter #ed tings #ed not ed sheeran #tw edd #skinnni #tw thinspi #thinps0 #thin$po #dieta ana #pr0ana diet

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod With Monster!Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Reader is described with some monster features depending on which character, blood drinking, Reader is dead in Ghost’s section, descriptions of blood and a slit throat, a decent amount of spice Soap’s along with some dub-con, also mentions of eating human flesh, Reader is described with a green dress in Soap’s part because it’s part of the mythology that I read, Reader remains Gn though.

A/N: This is the post I got way too into. Soap’s especially is….way too goddamn long.

Price - House Spirit

Price first met you when he moved into his new home. He was annoyed when he thought he had mice, what sounded like their little claws scurrying all under the floorboards and in the cellar, unaware that that was just you moving about. So preoccupied with his own worries, he never wondered how dust never seemed to collect in home, despite him being gone for months at a time, how his clothes and sheets always smelled clean and unwrinkled, or how his dressers were always full despite not actually having done his laundry since he moved in.

It all comes to a head one day when he was home on leave and decided to check his cellar for the first time in the whole 3 years he’d technically lived here. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t even know he’d come home that day and were too busy reorganizing your little nest in the back corner of the room to hear the door open or his heavy footsteps coming down the steps. Not until you could feel his bewildered gaze staring holes into the back of your head.

Things from there were….tense. He wanted to believe that you were some strange person who was either trying to rob him or maybe someone who was suffering mentally and was confused. Something that didn’t fuck up his entire concept of reality and what was real and myth. That was, until he got a good look at your little horns, your long and floppy, almost bunny like, ears, and the swishing tail behind you. He promptly backed himself up the stairs and slammed the door to the cellar shut.

It took another week or so before he went back into the cellar, but this time you were hidden away from his eyes. It took some coaxing from him to get you to reveal yourself, promises that he wouldn’t hurt you or try and force you to leave. Once you did come out, he was all questions, what you were, why you were here, why you were staying in the fucking cellar of all places when he had a bed he didn’t even sleep in when he was home.

After that, things were a bit rocky but….almost domestic. He enjoyed coming home and seeing your ears perk up so cutely when he walked through the door, or how your tail swished a bit faster when he greeted you kindly. Overall, he enjoys your presence and it’s no skin off his back if you want to do all the cleaning that he can’t be bothered with on his few lazy days. Or if you feel like cooking for him when he comes home. Or if you wake him from his ptsd induced nightmares, touching his face and holding his hand, making him warm tea and something to eat to help stop his shaking.

The only thing he insists on is that you move out of the cellar and into an actual room.

Gaz - Dullahan

Gaz met you when he was lost in the woods, a chopper having crashed and left him stranded in the middle of nowhere. He was thirsty and hungry, having run out of emergency rations and water days ago, with nothing nearby to help him. He was on Death’s door, his eyes heavy, his stomach long since having stopped it’s rumbling, body weak and feeling like lead. But, as his eyes began to close, he heard the strangest thing just before he lost consciousness.

The beating of hooves on the ground beside him.

When he came to, Gaz was feeling significantly less thirsty and weak, but still very much tired. The warmth of whatever he was laying on brought him a sense of ease and relaxation.

Until he registered that what he was laying on was ever so subtly moving up and down. At the same time that he made this realization, something cold and wet nudged at the palm of his hand, making him shoot upright. Whatever it was startled at this and snorted almost angrily, making him lose his balance and fall back.

What he saw only confused him. A large black horse with a long mane and tail, it’s eyes completely white and leaving him feeling cold every time he looked into them.

And then a voice, your voice, calling out to the giant creature. “Dubhshláine, come.” You said, and it did, but not before sniffing at Gaz’s face one more time before it trotted over to your side. Then Gaz was pushing himself back up, eyes searching for the source of the voice, almost shouting when he saw the headless body that was petting the snout of the great beast.

It took….a while for you to calm him down, frantically trying to keep him from running, your voice shouting from somewhere that he needed to calm down and that he shouldn’t move when he was like this. But his struggle only ended when he was practically dry heaving in your arms, dizzy from trying to exert himself like that when he was recovering from dehydration and starvation.

Things went a bit smoother after that, at least, once you reattached your head and offered him some berries and meat that he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to eat, despite you insisting that it was just goose. He did end up eating it though, if only to stave off the incessant rumbling of his belly. And that night, as he let you guide him into a cave and helped him into a large pile of warm furs, you promised him that you’d help him get home.

But he couldn’t help but think that going home meant he’d never be able to hear your soothing voice again.

Ghost - Poltergeist

Ghost is someone who goes to thrift stores every once and a while. A habit of his, as he doesn’t like to spend too much money, and part of him likes to see what sort of things other people have collected and gotten rid of over the years. Priceless things and useless things alike. Normally he sticks to buying little, only things he needs, like a cheap and worn t-shirt because his last one finally became too ripped to wear in public.

But on that day, something else caught his eye. A simple and small Jade necklace tied on a black string. His fingers brush over it, running his thumb over the hole in the middle where the string was tied. Ghost should have known something was wrong then, as he never took interest in jewelry. Ever.

The owner seemed to take notice of his attention and told him to just take it, as it had been sitting on the rack for ages, longer than he could remember. What he didn’t tell Ghost was that people constantly avoided it, avoided even looking at it, even the owner himself. It instilled a sense of dread and fear, and made people’s hearts race. The owner had tried to simply throw it out but it ended up right back on that rack, time and time again. And if it wasn’t making this strange masked man uncomfortable then he was more then welcome to take the fucking thing off of his hands.

Ghost is surprised at the offer but accepts after a moment of hesitation. The necklace becomes sort of a good luck charm for him, and he rarely, if ever, takes it off. It’s always so warm against him (it grew almost scorching whenever he took off his clothes), making him feel a sense of security that he wasn’t sure that he ever felt before.

But soon things…changed. He noticed that if he neglected to touch the necklace for a certain length of time, things would happen around him. Things moving from where he left them, pictures falling from walls, objects jumping off of shelves. Like a brat throwing a temper tantrum after being denied attention. It was something that he brushed off time and time again as the wind or loose nails or whatever other thing he could think of. Ghost didn’t believe in the paranormal.

At least, he didn’t. But when he wakes up in the middle of the night to hands oh so gently petting his face and chest, an eerie and croaky sounding cry echoing quietly in the room, he starts to believe just a little bit. His eyes slowly peek open when your hand on his face drifts down to cup the back of his neck, your other hand going from his chest to his hip as you press soft and sweet kisses to his chest, focusing particularly around the necklace that laid in the center of his skin. He only got a good look at you when you started rubbing your cheek against his clavicle, that same noise as earlier coming from your mouth.

And god when he saw you.

Your throat was slit open, that much he could make out, wide and deep, so deep that it must have damaged your vocal cords, which explained why you sounded so croaky. The blood from the cut was all down your front, staining your once white t-shirt and the panties that adorned your body. And you looked almost see through, but Ghost could certainly feel how corporeal you were.

Ghost’s eyes quickly shut again when you started to move, straddling his hips as you pressed those same kisses to his face before curling yourself against him, burying your face into his neck. You seemed…..lonely, almost. And Ghost decided he could work with lonely, especially when he had been left feeling the same way for the longest time.

Soap - Baobhan sith

It was a stupid wish, made in the dead of night, when he was lonely and sleep deprived on a mission in the middle of nowhere, his comrades sleeping around him on the forest floor while he took the watch shift. It was a wish for companionship, to not be as lonely as he often felt. Sure, he had the 141, but the 141 were family. Not a lover that would hold him tight, press kisses to his lips, tell him that he was loved and cherished.

And that was when you appeared. He didn’t see you at first, too lost in his own thoughts. You only caught his attention when you shifted, your curious and mischievous eyes peeking out at him from behind a tree trunk. He was stunned for lack of a better word, especially when you came out fully, your long green dress dragging on the ground. What were you doing out here?

He called for you quietly, his voice full of concern. Were you hurt? Looking for help? Lost? He stepped closer but you stepped back, gesturing for him to follow you, to chase you. And it was stupid that he listened. He was a soldier and he was leaving his sleeping comrades defenseless. He shouldn’t have set his gun down and took off after you, no matter how worried he was. But something about you was clouding his judgment, making him lose his way.

He stumbled through brambles and branches, through bushes and mud, your giggling the only sign that he was even going the right way. And then finally, a break in the darkness. A little homey cottage, the sudden light almost feeling blinding to his retinas. But when he opened his eyes again, you were there, excitedly beckoning him again, coaxing him into what was supposedly your house.

Soap knew he should turn back, should wake away, but his body only moved forward, his mind a fog of confused desire as you pulled him in for a kiss, your back pressed against the door. He was putty under your touch, just waiting to be molded into whatever shape you wished for, whatever shape pleased you best.

And apparently what pleased you was having him under you on your soft bed, riding his cock for your pleasure and your pleasure only, batting away his hands every time he tried to touch you. He was desperate for it, for more of you, like you were a drug he’d never be able to come back from, that he’d never stop craving.

And then you came and all he could think of was how you were pulling away, how wanting he was, how he couldn’t let you leave him like this. He didn’t notice the red in your eyes or how sharp your teeth became, how you started to go for his wide open neck, his blood pumping so deliciously fast for you.

And then you were flipped, so distracted by the thought of your own meal that you didn’t notice that he’d grabbed you until it was too late. He pushed your face into the pillows as you started to wiggle, his other hand clenching the meat of your hip tightly to keep you still as he plowed back into you, making you cry out in surprise and pleasure.

He’s overcome with the need for his own pleasure. With the need to drown himself in the pleasure your body gave him. His cock was twitching, he was so close. So so close. He needed it, needed it more than he needed the air in his lungs. He leaned in-

And you screamed.

Your cry was loud and sharp, like a banshee’s wail ringing in his ears. It shattered the haze in his mind, sent the wool flying from his eyes. He looked down and he saw your skin steaming from where his dog tags had touched your back. You seemed relieved with them gone, your body shaking under him, snarling at him over your shoulder.

It clicked for him suddenly, everythinh falling into place like one horrible puzzle that was missing its final piece. He’d grown up on old stories and legends of creatures that harmed humans, ate them down to their bones but were repelled by iron. His tags were steel, so he supposed they were close enough to iron to merit their effect on you.

You watched him. He watched you.

And then all at once he was moving again, finding your little squeak of surprise both amusing and cute. You were confused but he had never been more certain in his life. As he used you like his own personal whore, his mind was made up. You were his now. You couldn’t leave him. You were the first person in so long to take away the loneliness, the pain.

He flipped you onto your back, holding your hands above your head with one hand as the other whipped his dog tags over his head, wrapping them around your wrists as you hissed at him, bucking wildly. It only served to impale you further on his cock, making him groan with delight before his mouth was on your skin, nails raking down your sides now that you were successfully restrained. And he didn’t stop til you were a drooling whimpering mess on his cock, his cream dripping from your sore hole as he pressed kisses along your face and hands. Showing you how good he could please you and take care of you.

And then, you’d come with him, right? You chose him that night in the woods, and he chose you right back. Except instead of a quick meal, you ended up with a Sergeant who was head over heels for you and refused to leave you out in your woods all alone.

At least he was cute.

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[gingernut1314]

Little Game Pt. 2

Dracule Mihawk x F!Reader

Summary: Mihawk has found you once more after a month of hunting after you--a month of playing your little games. Found you in yet another poor excuse for a bar, except it seems you have forgotten all about your game. Forgotten and were dulling your usually sharp sense away with drink after drink. But Mihawk hasn't forgotten. Your game is still on and he plans on winning.

Tags: angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.9K

Setlist:

Emotions

I Wanted to Leave

A/N: I'm soooo sorry it's been such a long time! I'm in my last year of college and it's absolute hell on earth and the work is insane. Anyywway, there's no spice again, but I'm slowly getting there! I hope you all enjoy! 🩷

↞ to One Piece Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠ Part 1 | Part 3

Mihawk had traveled thousands of miles from his Marine-ravaged home. Had smuggled himself onto cargo ships and luxury vessels to get to island after island. Had begged to join the first pirate crew he could find so he might learn to sail and build his strength. Had begged on his knees, forehead bowed so low it had touched the ground with anger-fueled tears in his eyes to the first swordsman he could find to teach him the delicate art of the blade. 

Had begged on hand and knee to every swords master he came across to teach him. To help him draw closer and closer to that end goal he would do anything to achieve. 

He would become strong. Become the greatest swordsman the world had ever known and then he would lay waste to the Marines. He would spare them no mercy, just as they had spared his home no mercy. Just as they had spared his mother no mercy. 

It was a goal--no, a vow bound by blood and death herself that led him here to this small island. An island covered in ancient, towering trees. An island home to a secluded and unknown people. Home to the greatest swordsman of a long-ago era. A swordsmen who had lived 180 years and had never lost a fight. 

His yellow eyes scanned the dark wood he had been warned was full of monsters--devils waiting to tear any traveler brave enough to enter its thick, fog-filled brush. His last master had warned him many men had gone in looking for the great swordsman to learn from him, just as Mihawk, but they never reached his log cabin at its center. They had hardly stepped foot into the wood before its guardian attacked. 

Mihawk calmly stated he would be the first to make it. Would face this Guardian of the Wood and all its devilish monsters and win. He would find the great swordsman and prove to him he was worth his teachings.

The forest hardly looked dangerous. Especially when he spotted the yellow-gold petals of marigolds that he could see littered the leaf-covered floor. 

No monster in sight. No devil. No Guardian. 

Mihawk placed his hand over the hilt of his sword at his side and started into the dark forest. Had just passed a rather large bunch of marigolds when someone landed on the ground before him, having hopped down from their spot amongst the treetops. 

Mihawk scolded himself for not having spotted the figure, knowing he would have seen them had he not been so preoccupied thinking about devils. The tip of a naginata pressed into his chest.

“Are you a pirate?” The voice that came from the figure was silky and calm, yet held dark danger within its melody. It was a voice unlike any other Mihawk had heard and its wielder was just as rare. You looked like some wood nymph. Like the mystical yet deadly creatures Mihawk had heard sung on the lips of pirates and sailors alike come to life. 

“I am here for Rivers Achilles.” You frowned deeply, that sharp blade never leaving Mihawk's chest. He looked you over carefully. Looked over your well-trained stance, one only gained from practice and patience Mihawk knew all too well. Took in the fact you must be around Mihawk’s own age of fourteen. No. He could tell you were older. A year--maybe two. 

“Do all you pirates have a monthly meeting to discuss such originality?” Mihawk narrowed his eyes the slightest bit. Watched your eyes spark like you enjoyed his small reaction. 

“I do not have time to waste on some dirt-smug girl.” Mihawk saw you were hardly dirt smugged. You were pertinently clean as if you had washed before climbing up into that tree. He said it to snuff out that spark of enjoyment you had gotten from baiting his temper. An anger he was slowly training himself to wrangle away. “Now. Move before I move you.” 

You laughed. A small thing that grew into an all-out bellow. It was a laugh that matched your darkness. Your rareness. It had Mihawk blinking, as if stunned at its sound.

“You step another inch in my wood, pirate, and I will break your nose.” You threatened, that dangerous tone laying in the background of your voice pooling thick like venom to its forefront. It was--intoxicating to hear. A sound Mihawk wanted to drag from you again and again. 

“Are you the Guardian of the Wood?” Your shoulders rose and pride swelled in your eyes.

“If you have heard of me then you have heard of what I have done to many a pirate such as yourself. I make them disappear--vanish them from the face of the earth.” Mihawk watched you slowly. A slowness that sparked anger in your eyes. 

It was an anger that Mihawk knew too well. An anger that matched his own in intensity and fury like some twin flame. Someone had hurt you--had taken someone from you, just as those Marines had taken his mother. Had left you feeling so weak and empty it left that anger to fester and grow out of control in you, just as it had in him. It was an anger he wanted to lash out at. One he wanted to direct his own anger at. 

“I thought you would be--” He paused, letting his eyes roam over your body again in a bored manner. “--more.” That fiery anger flared brightly. Had your knuckles going white wrapped as tightly as they were around the staff of your naginata. “How disappointing to find you are just some feral, dirt-covered girl.” Oh yes--yes there it was. Such anger. Anger to match his own. Anger that would rival him like none other ever could.

Mihawk had hardly seen you move before you were bringing the staff of our naginata to ram into his nose. A sickening crunch sounded in Mihawk's ears as pain flared in his face, nearly blinding him. 

A pain that blinded him from seeing you move to kick him hard in the chest, sending him flying out of the woods and back onto the black sand of the beach he had just landed on near minutes ago. 

His anger flared then, but he could only blame himself. He had been distracted by your own anger. By your dangerous voice and your rare beauty. Stupid, idiotic distractions on his part. 

“A runt such as yourself should know his place.” You hissed as Mihawk shoved himself to his knees, wiping the blood from under his broken nose as he laid his yellow eyes on you once more. Found you had left the darkness of your wood and stopped before him looking like some vengeful goddess fallen straight from the heavens. “My father does not wish to waste his time training the likes of pirates. Weak pirates such as yourself, runt.” 

Your father was Rivers Achilles--yes, it made sense now. Your rarity made sense. Your strength and skill. Your father was no ordinary man, therefor his offspring would be just as inordinary--spectacular. 

“I am no runt and I am not weak. I will pass you. I will bow before Achilles and he will train me.” Mihawk declared, cold sea water spraying at his dark leather boot-covered feet. “Your little game will do nothing to stop me from becoming the greatest swordsman this world has ever seen.” 

That excited spark flashed in your icy eyes again. A spark that flickered and twirled with your anger. A wicked, cat-like grin crossed your face--a grin that was so stunning it nearly stole Mihawk's breath away--did steal it.

“Game on.” 

Mihawk had been tracking you for a month now. A month longer than he liked, but you never gave up the chase. Never slowed or stopped long enough for Mihawk to grab hold of you. All he ever saw of you was the trail of perfect chaos you left behind. 

He had followed you through the North, South, East, and West Blues. Had followed you into the Grand Line, full of all its dangers, and back, only to follow you right back into its mysterious waters. And just when he thought he had caught up to you, would have you within his grasp, you had disappeared like smoke between his fingers. 

Despite how long his pursuit of you had taken, he found it excited him. Had him looking forward to the coming dawn, something he had long ago started to dread. 

He assumed it was because you excited him--had always kept him on his toes. You were a rare woman. One that had always challenged him in skill and wit--that matched him as perfectly as one could match another. 

Part of him wished you would just give in. Come with him back to Kuraigana Island and let him indulge you in every luxury he had ever wanted to give you. It was a foolish wish, but one he held regardless. One he knew would never come true unless he won this little game of yours. 

A game you seemed to have forgotten for the night, because here you were, in another run-down, dirty, overcrowded bar on some backwater island in the Grand Line, drunk out of your mind. It was unlike you, to be this careless. Not when it came to your games--when Mihawk was playing them just as you had wanted. 

But there you were, downing the last of your beer, hardly grimacing at the taste as he knew you usually would, too drunk to even taste it. There you were, looking so--exhausted. It was an exhaustion Mihawk knew too well--that weight heavy on his shoulders as it seemed to do you. An exhaustion that had Mihawk pausing. Almost had him leaving this too-small bar and all its too-drunk inhabitants. 

Almost. 

A drunk man bumped into Mihawk with a slurred apology, but he hardly heard it. Hardly even felt the pathetic man running into him. Not when he was so close to you. Not when he was so close to winning the game you had started. 

“Why is it you continue to frequent such nightmarish establishments?” Mihawk's voice should have had you sobering up. Should have had you scrambling to escape back out to sea and leave him and this island far behind. But his voice--so smooth and calm and utterly bored had you tingling in excitement. 

You had missed his all-too-calm dementor. Had missed him, his face, and his stupid hat. 

On a small hiccup, you turned to look up into those piercing yellow-gold eyes you had missed the most. Eyes you wished you could look into forever.

With your thoughts fogged nicely thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed, you had no embarrassment or strength for good decision-making when you placed your palm over top of his hard-earned abs. The warmth of his skin seeped into your freezing fingers as you ran them over his skin. 

“Mi-hic-hawk.” You purred up at the unamused man, all but fighting against your hiccups. You flashed him a sly grin. “How’d you find me?” You slurred horribly. 

“You are being sloppy.” You hummed as you brought your other hand to run along his skin, taking in his warmth and power that all but radiated off of him in dangerous waves.

“You always know just how to--hic-- sweet talk a girl.” You said, running your hands around his waist, where they disappeared under his dark jacket. Where they felt the equally as strong muscles lining his lower back. “Say something mean to me again, Mihawk. Pretty--hic--please.” 

Mihawk blinked down at you for a single moment before swiftly removing your hands from his body. You pouted, going to grab for him again, but he brushed you off once more. “Stop.” You whined pathetically, “You’re being mean.” 

“You asked me to mean,” Mihawk said the fact simply in that overly bored manner he hid behind. With a huff, you stopped your attempts at touching him and crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I didn’t say sh-hic-oo me away.” 

“You are drunk, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes dramatically, turning back around on the bar stool you sat on to find the bartender again. 

“And you’re not. It’s --hic-- boring.” You hissed as the bartender came over. “I will have your finest beer and my --hic-- best friend will have your oldest wine.” The woman’s eyes darted to Mihawk making you fix her with an icy glare. Her eyes looked a little too long in Mihawk's direction. Had looked over his face and body for too long. “Don’t look at him. I can only look at him.” She was quick to snap her eyes away, her face going pale in utter fear.

“Y-yes ma’am. We-we only have a red blend from a year ago.” You sighed.

“He will deal with it.” 

“Y/N, we are leaving,” Mihawk said as the woman rushed off. You gave another dramatic sigh, turning back to face him. Those yellow-gold eyes had never once left you and you couldn’t help but enjoy being in their sights. 

“Mihawk, we are--hic--not. I just ordered.” He continued to look unamused. Continued to fix you with his own sharp stare. One that never quite seemed to overpower your own. “Is it because I ordered you bad wine?” 

“Bad wine or not we are leaving.” You narrowed your eyes up at him. Narrowed them so sharp you willed them to cut him open. 

“It’s my--hic--day off. If you are going to be a party pooper then you should --hic-- leave.” It was the exact opposite of what you wanted him to do, but you had landed on this island to get drunk. So drunk you would hopefully wake up with dark spots in your memory.

“I will. With you.” He insisted. You rubbed your eyes roughly, that exhaustion you had come here to escape returning with a vengeance. 

“You are such an --hic--asshole.” 

“Poetic.” Mihawk monotoned. You hissed, yanking your hands away from your face and flinging them up in the air.

“I’m drunk, Mr. Smarty-Pants. Leave me be.” Your beer was placed before you and you were quick to scoop it up. The bad glass of wine went untouched by Mihawk. “Do you want to know --hic-- something?” You asked the bartender who hesitated. Hesitated and stayed after you fix her with your icy glare once more. “This--hic-- guy acts all tough but really --hic-- he wants to leave because all these people are making him--hic--itchy. He’d rather just sit on his pert little ass in the dark.” You said, a giggle leaving your lips. 

The bartender’s eyes darted back to Mihawk and you slammed your fist on the countertop, making the glasses rattle and the bartender nearly jump out of her skin. “I said don’t look at him.” You watched her chest heave up and down in fear as you took a long sip from your beer. “Talking about pert little asses. Mihawk once ran naked--”

“Enough, Y/N.” Mihawk all but commanded you, making you tense. It was a command you bristled at--made your anger begin to heat in your chest rather quickly. Too quick for you to grab hold of and control, especially when you were this drunk. “We’re leaving.” 

“Fuck you! Fuck you and fuck the Marines and --hic--fuck you again.” You hissed, standing from your stool only to nearly fall off it in the process. Mihawk stayed planted in his place, even when you ran into him during your oh-so-graceful fall. “You can’t tell me what to--hic--do.” 

“You are stumbling around like a no-good drunkard. Collect yourself.” You stomped your foot and pushed Mihawk with another hiss like some child. The swordsman hardly seemed to even feel your attack. A fact that had you seething and going to do it again, but he grabbed your wrists in a tight hold. “Enough.” He commanded again. You yanked against his grip but it stayed strong. 

“Let me go.” You hissed at him, yanking again. 

“We are leaving. Whether you do so on your own two feet or I carry you out makes no difference to me.” Your anger surged in your chest. Surged in defiance at his orders. You were not one to be ordered around. Especially by him. 

“You will unhand me this instant or I will--hic--break your nose.” Something flashed in Mihawk's golden eyes. Something--sad. A sad that called to your own sadness which had been welling and pooling within your chest for years now. Pooling to the point of near flooding. A flood you resorted to drinking to dam it up. 

Mihawk’s grip around your wrists fell, but he made no sign of leaving. Made no sign of moving a single muscle from his spot before you. Made no sign of giving up on his declaration of leaving this bar with you in tow.

In your drunken state, you thought this was a perfect opportunity to draw your black blade, which you had left uncovered at your hip. You swung, your muscles moving on near memory, at the frustrating swordsman before you, causing the bartender and a few people around you to scream out in fear. 

Mihawk sidestepped your attack and before you could blink, your sword was skillfully pulled from your grasp and you stumbled forward with a roar. “Give it--” Your words were cut off by a yelp as Mihawk grabbed you up in his strong arms, throwing you over his shoulder. 

Your right shoulder hit Yoru’s hilt painfully and you had to quickly throw your hands out to stop your face from colliding with the black blade strapped to his back. Mihawk wrapped an iron-like arm around your thighs to keep you in place before starting for the exit.

Your vision blurred from the sudden movement, but it didn’t stop you from pounding on Mihawk’s powerful back and kicking your feet as best you could in your weak attempt to escape. His hold on you never lessened, only seeming to tighten in your struggle. 

“Let me go, Mihawk!” You shouted, pulling yourself up enough to try to catch of glimpse of his face, only for his stupid hat to hit you in the face. You gave a frustrated little growl. “This is not fair! I’m drunk!”

“Drunk or not, you started the game. I plan on finishing it.” You huffed in frustration, punching his back once more to no avail. 

The bar fell away and soon you were being carried through the night-filled streets of the backwater village you had found. You continued to fight against his hold until your stomach stirred nauseously and your vision blurred to the point you could hardly see. 

With a pathetic moan, you let your body go limp against his back, your body bouncing with every graceful step he took. It only made your nausea grow, but you were too dizzy to do anything about it. 

“Tire yourself out?” Mihawk asked something like amusement finally filling his smooth voice. 

“I’m going to vomit all over your fancy little sword.” You murmured, making the man sigh deeply through his nose. 

“Are you serious?” You moaned, feeling bile rise in your throat. Your world spun and blurred around you as Mihawk dragged you off his shoulder, a movement that only had that bile rising sharply and your mouth filling with hot spit. You were placed on your feet, but your knees gave out with little warning. Tiny rocks dug into the flesh of your palms and into your kneecaps. 

You cursed, taking deep breaths of the chill night air, hoping to settle your upset stomach. Maybe you had overdone it on the drinks--but unfortunately for you, this is what you had set out to accomplish, and sober you knew she wouldn’t have to deal with all of this nastiness. 

You had just opened your mouth to relieve your aching stomach when strong hands collected your hair away from your face. Hands that held your hair in a manner so soft you hardly felt it. You vomited before you could think much more on whose hands were holding your hair up. 

“Why were you in that bar, Y/N?” Mihawk asked, voice low and so--gentle. As gentle as the man could make it seem. You huffed in and out deeply, catching your breath.

“Why do most people go to --hic -- bars? To get drunk.” You hissed as best you could between breaths. Bile rose in your throat and your stomach rolled once more. Gods--

“Yes,” He sighed, annoyed at your comment. “But you don’t go to bars to get drunk. Not when you are set on a task. Not ever.” You huffed a moan before throwing up once more. 

“I’ve changed.” You huff out, catching your breath once more. Mihawk was quiet behind you. A quiet that ate at you more than you wished to admit. Your vision blurred again. But it was a blur that had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the tears welling in your eyes. 

You had drunk too much. Way too much if it was bring you to tears. Tears you could do nothing about to control, not in the state you were currently in. Not when the man making you cry was behind you, holding your hair like there was nothing wrong between the two of you. Like you were back on your home island, stealing alcohol from your father and sneaking off to the only bar on the whole island. 

Your home. Your father. Your forest. All gone. Just like that in the blink of an eye. How had it happened? How had you let it happen? You had been your home's Guardian, just as your mother before you, and her mother before her. It had been your job, your responsibility to protect it from such dangers. 

It had been your life's purpose and you had failed. Failed and lived. Lived when you should have died protecting it.

“Y/N--” Mihawk started, but you swatted his hands away as you turned your body away from your puke. You buried your face in your hands to keep the swordsman from seeing your tears. From seeing your weakened and broken state. 

“Leave me be. Please.” You all but begged. Gods you were pathetic. So far from the proud and strong person you had once been in your youth. So old and angry and tired.

“I’ve seen you at your lowest. Some sick and a few drunken tears are hardly going to deter me.” He said on a sigh like you should have already known that. 

You pulled your face from your hands to glare at him where he knelt behind you. To tell him to leave on a venomous hiss--to throw insults his way, but his hand disappearing into his jacket pocket caught your eye. It reappears with a golden hair clip, diamonds sparkling in the lamp lights as he showed it to you. 

“That’s my--” You started in disbelief. 

“You forgot it on my ship when you left.” He said, handing it to you. You took in gently in your hands and before you could even begin to process everything, his hands were in your hair once more. He gently pulled and twisted it, mimicking how you had done your hair a million and one times before without so much as a thought of his ever-watchful gaze. His free hand plucked the golden clip from your hand and nestled it securely in your hair. 

He had kept it. Had not only kept it, but had kept it on his person. Kept it close and ready to use if you ever needed it once more. 

When he was done, you turned to stare bug-eyed up at him, tears still refusing to halt their endless fall. Calm. He was always so calm. A calm that frustrated you and grated on your nerves to no end, but was such a familiar, comforting presence. A presence you had yearned to be around more than you yearned to hunt down every last Marine you came across. 

Hesitantly, he reached for you. So hesitantly he gave you enough to slap him away, but you made no move to do so. Made no move to stop him as he brushed your tears away with his thumb. 

His touch sent your eyes watering all over again. His touch and his actions were so gentle and kind and so utterly unfair. So unfair because you couldn’t give in. Not now. Not for a long, long time. 

Gods how you wanted to give in. 

“I can’t--I can’t go with you.” You said in a low, grave tone. Mihawk brushed his thumb over your cheek once more before pulling away, making you feel that cold aloneness you had been trying to chase away with drink. He gave the slightest of nods. 

“I know.” He said just as lowly, his face seeming to harden further. You watched him grab your black blade, which he had placed on the ground beside him. He resheathed it at your side skillfully and reached for you again, grabbing you under your arms and lifting you to your feet. You swayed like a great gust of wind had blown into you, your drunkenness having yet to wear off. 

Mihawk hardly made a single sound before he was lifting you off the ground once more. Made no sound as he prompted you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You did so without much thought, the action having been memorized by your body.

It was something the two of you had done many times over the years, whether it be you clinging to his back or front. Whether it be because you were too drunk or injured to walk, you would cling to him and he would hold you tight. It was something he had grumbled endlessly about the first few times you’d insisted upon it, but had slowly grown used to it to the point he would pick you up as such without your prompting. 

Your eyes catch his own briefly. Eyes so bright they were like the sun. A sun your soul begged to orbit one more, but your pride beat it down. Had you looking away and placing your cheek on his shoulder, taking his rose and expensive cologne scent deep into your nose so that you might hold on to it for that much longer.

Mihawk felt like a teenager again, holding you like this. It was--refreshing, though if anyone of importance saw him in such a way, there was sure to be trouble. But for now, in this small village in the middle of the Grand Line, he could get away with it. Could hold you close and keep your seemingly ever-cold body warm. 

He had marked where your ship was docked before he had ever docked his own, so finding it again was hardly a chore. 

Your ship was just a tab bit larger than his own, still designed for a single crew member to sail, but large enough for a much more spacious sleeping quarters and kitchen. That had been something you had complained about endlessly when having sailed with him on his own ship. 

He readjusted his hold on you so he might open the door that led to the inner workings of your ship. It was neat and tidy, just as his own was, though the walls covered in numbers and markings were unlike anything on his own ship. 

They were Marine branch numbers, ones you had come across during your journeys. Underneath each number were tally marks which he assumed represented how many ships you had destroyed flying those same numbered flags. The branches you had completely whipped off the face of the earth he found were crossed out. 

It was impressive how many Marines you had wielded your perfect chaos against. Impressive and worrisome because he knew as the number grew, the more you would be noticed. And the more you are noticed, the more likely it was they would send another one of the Warlords to slaughter you. 

Garp had warned him of this the last time they spoke. Had commanded Mihawk to get you under control or you would be spared no mercy. It was Mihawk's first and final warning to stop you before you got yourself killed. 

And as much as Mihawk wanted to take you away to his new home, to keep you out of the prying eye of every last Marine and pirate that sailed the seas, he knew he needed to wait. To play your game and win it, or there would be no victory. No having you back by his side. 

You had fallen asleep sometime during the walk, so you made no fuss as Mihawk placed you in bed. You merely grumbled something in your sleeping state as he pulled your boots off and took your sword from your side, propping it against the wall.

He watched you for a long moment. Watched your softened features as you slept. 

So rare. You were too rare to let go. To give up on and allow to die. You were Mihawk’s twin flame. A flame he would fight and die for if given the chance. You were the only person alive he would truly bend to. 

And bend he did by letting you go. By playing your little game. A game he vowed to win the right way.

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#mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x Y/N #dracule mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x Y/N #one piece #opla #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #dracule mihawk opla #dracule mihawk one piece #dracule mihawk #dracule “hawk eyes” mihawk #hawk eyes mihawk #little game #divider by saradika graphics #divider by saradika

[werecreature-addicted]

pro tip: shove a sugar cube in the cooter to flavor yourself for your s/o. even do it with other candies. change it up a little for the season! easter? cadbury egg. 4th of july? watermelon jolly rancher. halloween? pumpkin spice. christmas? shove a whole candycane up there. werewolf? bullion cube. plant monster? get some nitrogen fertilizer so he can fertilize you, baby. tentacles? good thing he likes anchovies... vampire? you got that built in once a month.

Thanks so much for the helpful tips! in my experience barbeque sauce also works pretty well if you don't have bullion cubes as far as werewolves go, I'll have to give these other ones a try!

#asks

[yourbpdgf]

beel, the munch

warnings: pussy eating, monster fucking (?), really long tongue, semi public sex, slight voyeurism, overstimulation

lmk if i missed smth

your boyfriend, beelzebub, is a munch.

and you love it

"fuck, fuck, fuck!" you screamed.

you really shouldnt be as loud as you are considering youre doing your... immoral... acts in the kitchen. and even though none of beels brothers are home it still feels wrong.

but you cant help it, your boyfriends just so good with his mouth.

beel suckles in all the right places. he thrusts his abnormally long tongue into you perfectly, filling you up so nicely, the bulge in your stomach as proof. and the way he holds your legs open, his nails digging into your thighs, feels heavenly on your skin.

beel makes you feel so good you dont care that youre overstimulated, you just want more.

beel though, beel appears as though he couldnt care less that his brothers could come home any time and catch you, he is too pussydrunk to care. beelzebub loves the way you taste, and considering his sin, he will not stop until his gluttony is satisfied.

howd this all start? ill tell you.

beel was hanging out with asmo, who had the brilliant idea to do some car karaoke. asmo shuffled his playlist and the song that came on was ice spices munch.

asmo immediately looked to beel like he just had a genius realization, and in a way he did. asmo spoke, "beel, your definetely a munch!" and with that he laughed the rest of the car ride.

beel, being beel, had no clue what asmo was talking about, so he came to you. beel found you in the kitchen making dinner. when he asked you laughed and explained it to him. he laughed with you and once you were both done you made a little remark that did you in.

"i dont really think youre a munch, beel."

with that you started laughing again, but beel took that personally.

what? you think he cant make you feel good enough with just his mouth?

and thats where we are now, you on the counter thighs clamped down on beels head. beels shifted into his demon form to add extra length to his tongue, relishing in your taste. your hands gripping onto his horns for any shred of stability, meanwhile beel licks and spits on your puffy, overstimulated clit.

but little did the both of you know asmodeus is on the other side of the wall enjoying the scene that he caused <3.

i was busy last month sry. but heres the munch fic i promised. might be bad bc this is my first fic back. this is wayy shorter than i thot oops. lilia vanrouge fic coming soon 👁️👁️

masterpost

#beelzebub x reader #beel x reader #obey me x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #cw monsterfucking #cw pussyeating #smut #anime smut #beel smut #beelzebub smut #beel x reader smut #beelzebub x reader smut #obey me smut #obey x reader smut

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

Lilith: did you know there is a famous sea monster in Windenburg? Gunther: hm?. oh. Winnie? Lilith: yes. what do you think about it? Gunther: uhh i like to think he's some kind of ancient being that keeps the islands from drowning deep into the ocean Gunther: or just a big boy that fails to be photogenic Lilith: sounds very Munch-y to me Lilith: …do you want to go out tonight? Gunther: we keep breaking our not going out pact Lilith: we technically ''went out'' yesterday because you wanted to watch some birds Gunther: you might be correct. Gunther: ah, let's do it! when was the last time we went out anyways? Lilith: a year and six months Gunther: Lilith i'm so sorry Lilith: hey, we are busy fellas Gunther: it's a date then Lilith: oh wow- will you wear your ''taking my lovely wife out for plasma'' dorky shirt, or your ''feeling up for spices and maybe margaritas'' also dorky shirt? Gunther: i'll leave that up for interpretation

Lilith: you wore your ''i swear on my oma's grave i'm not that dorky'' shirt Gunther: exactly. Gunther: is that any good? Lilith: i have no idea, i just enjoy being seen holding a glass of wine i can't taste Gunther: but you're sipping…? Lilith: i'm putting it back into the glass Gunther: that's so tricky Lilith: i've always done this, never had a liking for alcohol Gunther: that's something i know. by the way, Gunther:Garry does exactly the same when i try to feed him, i suppose you have nothing to do with that? Lilith: you're trying to frame me for something i clearly didn't do Gunther: Lilith dear i know your lying tone. Lilith: ugh. i'm getting fed up of this place Gunther: why? Lilith: i don't know, i'm… in a mood. Gunther: we can leave! Lilith: n-no. Gunther: then… go for a walk? i'll wait for you and maybe try one of those myself Lilith: alright just… mind your lightweightness Gunther: pff come on- what's the worse that could happen?

#ts4 #ts4 story #well here we are #munch #lilith vatore #gunther munch

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Crawling Back to You (Part 3) - Cassian x Reader

Part One - Part Two

The last part to this fun little piece! Thought it would be good to end it on a mishmash of a bit of angst, a bit of fluff and a bit of SPICE 🌶️

Warnings: Vague allusions to assault/sexual assault. A bit of violence. SMUT.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You’d stopped showing up to training altogether. 

That sting of rejection — the humiliation — was too much. The moment itself may have been fleeting…mere seconds had passed from the point Cassian had pulled out of you to the point he’d strode from your apartment. But in between…you’d offered yourself to him, unguarded. Told him you were his, if he wanted. 

Which he didn’t. 

See you around, he’d called as he’d flounced away. You’d done everything in your power over the next two months to make sure you didn’t, in fact, see him around. And the fact that he didn’t come to nag you about training — not even once — spoke volumes. 

Colder air had swept through Velaris over those two months, the winter weather very much making itself present — but Velaris always had a warmth about it, a friendliness. 

Such a thing was permanently absent in Windhaven. The cold, soulless place you’d grown up in. To say your stomach had plummeted when your father had summoned you was a wild understatement. The fact that he’d left you alone for over a year suggested that it couldn’t mean anything good that he now wanted to speak with you. 

You rubbed at your arms as Rhys landed in an easy swoop and set your wobbling legs down. The wind was brisk, unforgiving — bleak. There was no light or laughter in this place. 

“Thanks for flying me in.” You squeezed your friend’s arm, your smile not quite meeting your eyes. 

“You’re sure you’ll be alright on your own?” Rhys asked, and you gave an unconvincing nod. “I’m meeting Cassian at the girls’ training rings. Just come and find me when you’re ready to leave.”

With another thankful nod, you began your trek through the trees, taking the winding path that led to a small trickle of old, dilapidated wooden huts. The sight of them immediately had your stomach churning, memories flashing in your head of cramped living conditions, squeezing into a tiny home with three brutish older brothers, the agony of the day your wings had been clipped—

Your eyes shuttered as you came to a stop at the third hut in the row. You steadied your breathing, and then knocked against the door with the toe of your boot. 

Barely seconds passed before your father was ripping the door open and appraising you with nothing but contempt in his eyes. You lifted your chin — met his gaze. It seemed to surprise him a little as he stepped aside and silently gestured for you to walk in. 

Inside was even worse than you remembered. Utterly filthy and dishevelled. Your mother had died birthing you, and it had always been left to you to keep the house in order, make sure the chores were done. 

Clearly, the male members of your family hadn’t adapted well to you escaping to Velaris over a year ago. 

“It’s lacking a female touch.” Your father said from behind you — the first words he deigned to speak to you. Not, hello, Y/N. Not, how have you been? 

You pivoted to face him. Folded your arms. “So it would seem.”

He eyed you. And he seemed…smaller, somehow. Not the towering monster he once was. You didn’t shrink in front of him like you’d always been prone to doing. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?” You asked.

He jerked his chin, gesturing to the disorder around you. “I need you to come home, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “This isn’t my home.” 

“This,” His jaw set as he studied you, “Is your only home. Wherever you’ve run off to…getting up to the Gods know what…you don’t belong there.”

How wrong he was. He couldn’t possibly know how much you truly did belong in Velaris. How much the place had opened its arms to you as though you were always supposed to be there. Not the vacuous hell that was Windhaven. 

“And why would you have me home?” You shrugged. “Because you care about me? Because you miss having your daughter around? Or because you need a female to look after you and your males?”

“I–”

“Let me make one thing extremely clear, father.” You stepped closer to him – may as well have been as tall as him, from the way you stared him down. “The daughter who escaped this place in the dead of night? She doesn’t exist anymore. She got out, and she will never be returning. You may have clipped my wings, and you may have wasted years of my life, but never – ever will you have anything else from me.” You looked him up and down, disgust curling your lip. “And I mean nothing.”

The way his eye twitched…you knew you’d hit a nerve. Knew that he was looking at you and seeing nothing of the scared young girl he’d treated so poorly. He tucked his wings in tight – a move you knew was a precursor to him unleashing himself on you.

But you weren’t scared anymore.

Biting out a humourless laugh, you shoved past him, your shoulder nudging him out of the way. He made to reach for you, but you were younger, quicker. You unsheathed the blade strapped to your thigh. 

“Lay a single finger on me and you’ll wish you never had.” You levelled a hardened gaze at him. “Rhysand will come looking for me.”

Whatever the High Lord’s name had him thinking…he blanched. Took a reluctant step back. You let a triumphant smirk pull at your lips as you turned once more, yanking the door open. The cold that hit you was actually pleasant. 

“And, father?” You stepped outside. “Don’t ever send for me again.” 

He didn’t deign to respond. 

*

Something stopped you from sheathing your blade again. You didn’t know what. Perhaps just the uneasiness of strolling through the Windhaven camp. 

It was one hell of a trek from your father’s hut to the other end of the camp, where the girls trained – as far away from the males as possible. Strolling through rows of tents and fires and crumbling cottages, you glimpsed faces of males you’d happily never see again – males you’d grown up around, who were cruel and dark in the most harrowing ways. Their eyes trailed you as you passed, smirks on their lips and deep sniggers beneath their breaths – like they remembered, just as well as you did, the torment they’d given you. Given all the females around them.

But you weren’t that female anymore. You had trained, gained strength, grown. You’d seen the beauty that had waited for you when you’d mustered the courage to take that leap out of here.

So you simply smiled at them – pleasantly, sweetly – and carried on walking. 

You’d almost made it to the training rings when the figure came out of nowhere. On a winding stretch of path that was quiet and deserted, the looming male landed in front of you so fast, you couldn’t help but stumble back. 

“Leaving so soon?” Your eldest brother sneered at you.

You gritted your teeth, sidestepping him. “Get out of my way, Zein. Now.” 

“No.” He followed your movement, folding his arm. “I don’t think I will. Has father spoken to you?” 

You eyed him – the dark, cutting features. His face was as cold and impassive as it always was, but he cut a casual figure in a tunic and a pair of breeches. Not the Illyrian leathers he usually donned. 

“He did.” You answered. “Move.” 

 “And?” 

“And the lot of you are fucking insane if you think I’m coming back here – leaving my life – to be your servant again.” 

You pushed past him, just as you’d pushed past your father. Made sure that your shoulder slammed against his arm; it was the least he deserved after the years of his cruelty you’d suffered.

But unlike your father, Zein had never known when to leave something. When to back off. 

His hand landed on your shoulder, hard, tugging you to a stop. “Your place is here, with us.” He hissed. “Not with those pretty males you whore yourself out to.” 

“Get your hand off me, now–”

“You think you can turn your back on us? We own you, Y/N. Always have, always will.” 

That hard, cold hand of his moved from your shoulder – moved towards your neck. And you struck.

Before you could even register what you were doing, register your own strength, you were gripping that hand in your own and twisting your brother’s arm behind his back. Your heavy boot slammed right between his legs, and he groaned, stumbling forward – the perfect position for you to slam him face-first against a tree. 

“One day,” You spat, lifting your dagger to tease the skin of his neck, “One day, I’m going to fucking gut you for everything you’ve ever done. Perhaps not today,” You applied enough pressure to pierce his skin, watching his blood bead, “But one day, I will, and I’ll have fun doing it.”

He choked out around his pain, “You wouldn’t have it in you, you stupid whore.”

“You call me stupid,” you pressed the blade harder, firmer, shoving his face into the bark, “and yet you’re the one insulting me while I hold a blade to your throat.”

He spat onto the tree. “Am I supposed to fear a silly, little female with a blade she doesn’t know how to use?” 

You laughed bitterly. He never had known when to shut up. That wagging tongue of his had gotten him into trouble more times that you could count.

And you didn’t care to hang around and hear him spew utter nonsense. 

Your foot, a second time, flew up to kick right between his legs. He immediately released a whoosh of air, biting out a groan. But you weren’t finished with him. 

You released his arm from your grasp – only to then slash right through skin and muscle and tendon with your blade. The scream that roared from your brother’s throat echoed through the trees, sending birds skittering into the sky. 

“Maybe I should slice those hands off so that you never touch another female again.” You gritted out, your anger a living thing. “Or maybe I should go straight for your favourite part so that you can’t shove it anywhere, ever again. Which one will it be, brother?”

He was choking, gasping. “Bitch–”

“Which one?” You raised your voice, kicked him again. “Your hands? Or you cock?”

“Y/N.”

It wasn’t Zein’s voice that answered you. A stronger, firmer one that had emerged from behind you. Cassian. You ignored him, glaring down at your brother, poised to slice at him again. 

“Y/N.” Cas repeated, and a gentle hand landed on your arm. “Not today – you don’t need to face this today.”

He was right – somewhere deep, in the rational area of your brain, you knew that. That you’d be causing more trouble than it was worth to be dealing with your brother right now. Devlon would undoubtedly coin it an unprovoked attack and use it to strike back twice as hard. You’d be bringing trouble right to Rhys’s door.

So you spat, stepping away from your brother with one last kick to his ribs, “Count yourself lucky, you piece of shit.” 

Zein just groaned. Whined, like the pathetic little bitch he was.

“Get out of here, Zein.” Cassian commanded. “Now. Before I allow your sister to do as she pleases.”

Still whining, still groaning, Zein pushed to his feet. He grasped his arm, blood soaking his hand as he shot you a furious glare. 

“You’re going to regret that.” He hissed, before shoving past you.

“No,” You hummed, wiping his blood from your blade, “I assure you I’m not.”

He didn’t bother to reply as he stumbled out of sight, his wings tucked in tight behind him. And then it was just you and Cassian, the tension thick, heavy. 

His gaze was firm on you. “Are you alright?” 

You met his eyes, then…and they were…they were unreadable. An emotion you couldn’t quite place. Like he was seeing you for the first time. 

“I’m absolutely fine.” You said – and you were. Not shaken. Not rattled. Fine. You pulled away from Cassian, brushing past him. 

“Y/N–”

“No time to talk, Cass.” You called over your shoulder. “I need to get back to Velaris for dinner with Killian.” 

He paused. “...Who the fuck is Killian?” 

“He’s a friend.” You shot him a lazy wave. Emulated that swaggering, cock-sure attitude he’d given you two months ago. “See you around.”

His eyes didn’t leave you as you found your way to Rhys.

*

“Her name is Jaivy. She’s come into the shop a couple of times, now. She’s beautiful”.

You stared down at your hands. Callused and flecked with white scars from years of defending yourself. Proving yourself. The hands of somebody who was prepared to fight. 

Those same hands had sliced at your brother’s skin earlier that day – drawn blood and caused pain. And you felt…removed from yourself. Like you’d watched the whole thing from outside of your body. Not because you regretted it or wished you’d handled it differently, but–

But because you hadn’t realised how strong you’d become. How brave. How all that training you’d put in, pushing yourself to your limits at the top of the House of Wind through rain and sun and snow…it had wielded you into someone you’d always hoped to be. Strong…and no longer scared. 

You hadn’t quite gotten your head around it yet. Hadn’t quite acclimatised yourself to the fact that your run-in with Zein had actually happened – after all those years of torment. And you were the one to walk away unscathed. It felt…good. Bizarre, but good. 

“I think if she comes into the shop again, I’m going to ask to take her for a drink. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

You stared down at your plate of untouched food, barely hearing your friend’s voice as he chatted away. You were there and yet…not there. Your mind not entirely present. You twirled the fork in your hand–

And jolted as a kick landed on your shin. 

“Y/N.” Killian cocked an eyebrow. “Am I talking to myself here?” 

“What?” You blinked back at him. “No…of course not.”

“Then what was I talking about?” 

You studied him, searched your mind for the answer – came up blank. A groan left you as you placed your fork down. “I’m sorry. I’m being a bad friend.”

Killian was one of the first friends you’d made when you’d come to Velaris. A jeweller who worked for his father in the Palace of Thread and Jewels, he was an utter sweetheart. And clearly a much better friend than you were. 

He tilted his head, his blue eyes softening. “What’s on your mind?” 

With a soft sigh, the words fell out of you like they’d been waiting for a chance to escape. You told him – all of it. The reason your father had summoned you, your run in with Zein…even bits you’d never told anyone about your childhood. Perhaps returning to Windhaven, seeing it from fresher, stronger eyes, had rehashed some emotions that needed dealing with. 

“So that was that,” You slumped back in your chair. “I almost severed my brother’s arm.”

Killian’s lips twitched. “And threatened to sever his cock.”

“Right. And I think I would have, you know. I think I would have taken it that far if Cassian hadn’t stepped in.” 

“Sounds to me like it was only a matter of time before someone put your brother in his place.”

True. Killian was certainly right about that – but still. Your own strength had…shaken you a bit. Left you stunned by your own impulse. 

“You never need to go back to Windhaven. Your life is here, now, Y/N.” Killian reached over, squeezing your hand. “And you’re happy here, right?” 

Your eyes darted to the table. “I…am.”  

“...But?”

He knew you too well. You sighed softly. “But…I think I’m in love. With someone who doesn’t love me back.”

“Cassian, right? You talk about him a lot.”

Your cheeks heated, and you let out a groan, covering your face. Killian laughed softly from across the table, squeezing your hand again.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He said. “It’s sweet–”

“No. Nope. We’re not talking about this.”

“Is it the thighs? He has amazing thighs.”

You snorted, kicking him. “You are so annoying.”

“It’s definitely the thighs, isn’t it? Do you imagine riding those thighs?”

“Mother above. Be quiet and order some wine.” 

He grinned – your friend grinned, mischievously, endearingly – and you knew he’d achieved precisely what he’d intended. To bring a smile back to your face. 

And no matter what…if all else failed, you’d always have Killian.

*

The two of you shared a bottle of wine, and then you took a slow walk home through the cold, crisp streets of Velaris, your arms linked together. Whether it was the wine or the company, the weight on your shoulders that the stressful day had left was lifted – for now. 

Hopefully, you’d be able to fall into your bed and sleep without issue. 

“She’s a dancer.” Killian was telling you all about his new fancy, Jaivy, as he strolled beside you. “I’m going to go and watch her in the Rainbow soon.”

You couldn’t help but smile. This Jaivy sounded exactly what Killian needed. He was clearly smitten – that much was obvious in the way he’d spent thirty minutes describing her green, green eyes. 

“Do you think I should bring flowers to give her after her performance? Is that a thing? Or would it be too much? Or maybe chocolates—whoa–”

You barely had a chance to respond as Killian grabbed you and hauled you to the side. A huge, black mass flashed above you–

And then Cassian was landing right in front of the two of you, his boots thudding against the bridge that stretched over the Sidra. 

In front of you – and Killian – he looked huge. Menacing. He’d folded his arms, lowering his gaze on the pair of you. Killian seemed to notice it, also, as he tugged you back a step. 

“Leave.” Was all Cassian said, his eyes on your friend. 

Killian blinked. “What–”

“I need to speak with Y/N. Leave.” 

“Cassian.” You snapped. “Don’t be fucking rude. He’s walking me home.”

Cas’s eyes slid to you. Softened. His voice was quieter as he said, “I just—need to talk to you.”

You stared back at him, studying his face for some clue as to what this was about. But he was guarded, closed-off. You could have sworn, though, that vulnerability flashed in his eyes.

Beside you, Killian cleared his throat. “It’s fine—I’ll leave you two.” He turned to you. “Only if you’re okay with it, though.” 

You hesitated…contemplated refusing and pulling your friend straight past Cassian. But something in his gaze made you give a resigned nod. “I’m okay. You go on.” 

And then Killian – Mother bless him – looked to the Illyrian general in front of him. Straightened his shoulders out and lifted his chin as he said, “Make sure she gets home safe.” 

Cassian didn’t bother to glance at him, or away from you, as he replied, “She will.” 

With a light squeeze of your arm, Killian let go of you and carried onward. You waited, watching him walk to the end of the bridge – where he then glanced over his shoulder at you.

And most definitely smirked. And most definitely mouthed the word thighs.

You snorted, glancing down. Cassian seemed to be studying every bit of the interaction, his eyes narrowing on Killian’s back as he strode off, soon swallowed up by the darkness. 

“What the hell was that?” Cass asked. 

“Nothing.” You brushed past him, rubbing your arms. “I want to go home. I’m cold.” 

Before you could take another step forward, you were swept up, your feet lifting from the floor. Your entire body lurched as Cassian shot into the skies, his wings flaring and flapping, his arms warm around you. You ground your teeth, stopped yourself from spitting a remark. Ridiculous. Your apartment was only a few more minutes away.

But within seconds, he was banking and landing right in front of your building. You barely spared him a glance as he gently set you down and you dug your key from your pocket. 

Your huge studio apartment was pleasantly warm. You breathed a sigh of relief, kicking your shoes off and not even acknowledging the huge, winged male that followed you inside. Your feet carried you straight over to the kitchen area, and you could feel Cassian lingering, watching you as you began to brew tea. 

“...I can’t exactly talk to you if you won’t even look at me.” He eventually said, leaning against the kitchen island. 

A flash of anger rippled through you. You chucked a teaspoon into the sink, whirling around to face him. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” 

His jaw ticked. “Why.” 

“You didn’t have to be rude to my friend.”

“That friend had his hands all over you.” 

“Fucking hell, Cassian, I was holding his arm!”

Cass’s eyes shuttered. He seemed to inhale a slow, careful breath, and exhaled it before he dared to open them again. Tried to force calm onto his face and smooth out his deep, furrowed brow. 

“Look, I’m sorry–”

“It’s Killian you should be apologising to. Not me.” You shrugged. “What does it even matter if he was touching me?”

“Because I don’t want anyone to fucking touch you but me! Okay?!”

You blinked at him, his outburst causing every word, every thought, to eddy from your mind. Though his voice was loud, there was somewhat of a weak quality to it – strained – like he’d been holding onto those words for a long, long time, and could no longer keep them in.

Slowly, you swallowed. Stared at him. “That isn’t fair, Cassian.” 

His eyes shuttered again. “I know–”

“No.” You interrupted. “You don’t. You don’t know. You know nothing about how you made me feel that day two months ago. I tried to be vulnerable with you and you smirked. Just like you smirk at every fucking female. And you walked away from me. You don’t know at all.” 

“Y/N.” He opened his eyes – looked at you, tears glistening. 

“The way you looked at me—” You swallowed, tamping down your emotion as your voice broke. “The way you looked at me after we had sex…for a split second, you seemed as vulnerable as I felt. And I thought that maybe…maybe there was a chance that you could feel the same way that I do. That you could love me like I love you—like I have always loved you since the first gods-damn time I ever saw you. But you walked away.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “You have no idea how—I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You can have sex with anybody, Cassian.” You shrugged weakly. Half-heartedly. “Fly down into the centre of Velaris and there’ll be a whole host of males and females alike that would invite you to their beds. You didn’t need to use my feelings to find your pleasure.” 

You stepped away from the kitchen – forgot all about your tea and brushed past him, just…just wanting the entire situation to end. To go away. For the conversation to be over, and for him to leave. Maybe, with enough time, you could get over your feelings for him. Maybe—

His hand landed on your arm, stopping you in your tracks “You’re wrong.” He said quietly. 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I know you have a very poor sense of self-worth Cassian, but believe me, you’re a highly sought-after male–”

“Not about that.” He moved to stand in front of you. “About me. About my feelings. If you really think it was just about sex, you’re completely and utterly wrong.” 

You stared up at him, meeting the hazel of his eyes. He was such…such a large presence in everybody’s lives. The one full of witty remarks and booming laughter. The one who hid his vulnerabilities and insecurities with charm, with confidence. 

But he may as well have been half your size, right then, with how utterly unsure he looked. None of the cock-sure mask he usually paraded. He was…small. Vulnerable. 

Your mind went quiet as you rasped, “You never gave me any reason to think otherwise. You pretty much acted like we hadn’t had sex.” 

“I know.” He swallowed – hard. “Because I was scared.” 

He seemed to sense that you’d calmed slightly. That you weren’t so at risk of storming away from him and leaving him to see himself out of your apartment. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out, brushing his fingers over your hand. When you didn’t draw away, he wrapped his hand around yours.

“Can we just…sit down?” He murmured pleadingly. “And talk about this?” 

You studied him. And perhaps it made you a fool in love, but…you nodded. Allowed him to tug on your hand and pull you over to the sofa. 

You sat cross-legged, allowing him to adjust himself into whatever was the most comfortable position on a sofa that most definitely didn’t accommodate his huge, beautiful wings. Once he’d tucked them in and angled himself towards you, he grabbed a cushion, wrapping his arms around it – something to occupy his hands whilst he bared his soul.

“I was scared.” He said again, clearing his throat. “Because I’d been doing so, so well at staying away from you.” 

You watched him – watched his fingers toying with the edges of the cushion – allowed him to figure out his thoughts, his words, on his own.

“I used to see you around Windhaven—whenever I visited. I found myself watching you a lot, and wanting to talk to you…but I knew that your family were trouble, and that I would make it worse. I didn’t have any authority to step in and help until you asked—and I can’t tell you how relieved I was that day that you approached Rhys and I and asked us to help get you out.” 

Your eyes dipped down. Such strength it had taken for you to seek out those two powerful Illyrians and ask for their help – knowing they were the only ones who could truly get you away in secret. And they hadn’t hesitated, not for one second. For that, you’d forever be grateful.

Cassian frowned, squeezing the cushion tighter against him. “But you seemed so…defeated—downtrodden, by the way they’d treated you. I wanted to help you, to be around you…to know you. But every time I went back to Windhaven, there were murmurings about where you’d gone, who you were with. Your brothers were convinced you’d run off with a male, and I knew — I knew if they ever scented you on me, if they ever worked out I’d helped you…that I cared for you…they would find some way to strike back. Perhaps not straight away. But they would wait for any opportunity, and they’d strike. And you would get hurt. So I decided to just…keep away from you. Not have anything to do with you. And it wasn’t easy, believe me.”

All that time you’d spent convinced that he didn’t like you…and he’d really just been trying to protect you all along. You swallowed, not knowing what to say. 

“And then Nesta invited you to train with us.” He choked a breathy laugh. “And I thought…fuck. There go my plans to keep away from you. And I was glad you were training, don’t get me wrong…glad you were showing some zest for life. But I thought that if I was rude and harsh with you, maybe you’d stay away from me. At least far enough away that I didn’t have to worry about our scents mingling. I thought if you got too close, I wouldn’t be able to help myself. And I was doing so well…” 

Your eyes flicked to him. “Until?”

“Until that morning you turned up late to training and I snapped at you. I noticed right away that you were running late, and I overheard Nesta and the others joking that you were up late fucking some male. My anger had nothing to do with Devlon or Windhaven — I was just jealous.”

“Cassian.” You sighed. “I was late to training that day because I’d stayed up the night before to finish a book.”

He shook his head, frowning. “I knew I was being irrational. Even if you had been fucking someone, I had no right to feel put out by it. I’d kept you at arm’s length and been a prick to you, quite frankly. And I knew I should just leave it — that you deserved to find someone. Certainly someone who wasn’t a bastard-born brute. But I couldn’t help myself…couldn’t stand that I’d placed the hurt that was in your eyes when I snapped at you. Which was why I approached you at Rita’s that night we were there. And I really did intend to just…apologise.”

Your cheeks heated as you glanced down again. But then Cassian was reaching out, lifting your chin. 

“I got jealous…again.” He studied you, his fingers brushing your cheek. “I saw you about to leave with Ryckard…and not only did I know you’d regret going with him, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you moaning another male’s name. I wanted it to be my name. And I couldn’t stop myself when I was stood in front of you. I had to taste you. Selfish, I know.”

“Well.” You mumbled. “I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

His lips twitched. “No. You most certainly were not.”

“But…why, Cass?” You shook your head. “Why…when you knew I wanted you, and you’d crossed that line, did you push me away again?”

He blew out a deep breath. “Out of panic—panic that I’d crossed a line I’d drawn myself. And fear…I cannot tell you how fucking scared I’ve been. You know as well as I do what our kind are like. How Illyrian males believe they have ownership of their females. And it’s not exactly like I’m well-regarded in Windhaven. If your family found out that you meant anything to me…” He shook his head, eyes flashing. “I tried to get myself to keep away, but I caved so quickly. I knew, when you didn’t show for training, that you wanted me to come for you. And I didn’t have the restraint in me not to do just that. I knew I was coming here that day to be inside you. I guess I really am an Illyrian brute through and through.”

“Stop that.” You frowned. You pulled his hand from your cheek, holding it in yours. “You’re nothing like them, Cassian — nothing. What happened that day in this apartment…I only want that kind of intimacy with you. Nobody else.”

“I know.” He whispered, eyes shuttering. “And I shouldn’t have walked away. But when you said I could have you…I knew there was no going back. That I’d completely changed things. That it was about more than just sex. That I loved you. And I thought if I didn’t walk away then, I was going to get you killed.”

It was only then that you became aware of tears spilling down your cheeks — tears brought on by a whole host of things. By the way he saw himself…how he was so utterly down on himself. By how he’d been fighting with his thoughts and feelings for so long. 

By the fact that he loved you. That he was actually saying it. 

You cleared your throat, wiping your eyes. “So what’s changed, Cassian? Because who my family are…I can’t do anything about that. I don’t want to live my life in fear of how they’ll react to my choices. I specifically left Windhaven to get away from that.”

“I know.” Cassian nodded. “And it was only today — when I saw how you handled your brother — that I realised I’ve been scared for nothing. I realised you can handle yourself — that you’re strong. That if they struck, you’d strike back ten times harder. And why should we live in misery when that’s exactly what they want?”

For a long while, you just…stared at him. Took him in, in all his brilliant beauty. His hazel eyes were soft, his lips — for once — not smirking. None of the bravado he usually wore. He was just Cassian. The male you couldn’t stay away from. The male you loved.

And did it excuse how he’d previously treated you? No. But you could understand…understand that a combination of his lack of self-worth and his innate need to protect you had combined and manifested in ways that had ended up hurting both of you. 

But surely you’d both been through enough. Surely you both deserved happiness. 

“That strength you saw today…” you hummed softly, tracing a finger over his hand, “that’s all thanks to you. The strength, the courage—all of it. It came from training with you. I didn’t even realise I had it until I was threatening to mutilate my brother.”

Cassian’s lips twitched, but he shook his head. “No—-it was always there. You’re naturally strong. Naturally brave. The training just…honed it.”

You laughed gently, and a moment of silence, of peace, followed it. Just the two of you staring down at your joined hands, a feeling of understanding settling between you.

“So.” Cassian eventually breathed. “As much as I don’t deserve it—do you think we can move past it all? Start fresh—together.”

“You deserve it more than anyone, Cass.” You inched closer. “And yes. We can.”

He genuinely looked like he might cry. But he shut his eyes before the tears could form, and leaned forward to press his lips against yours. 

The kiss was…sweet. Gentle. Not a searing kiss in the back alley of Rita’s, or the angry kiss he’d pressed against you that day he’d fucked you against the sofa. It was…caring. Loving.

You pulled away, playing with his hair as you studied his face. “I love you, you idiot.”

“And that makes me the luckiest male alive.” He stared back at you. “I swear—I’ll never take it for granted again. I’m going to make sure you know it — that I love you.” The tender expression flashed to a wolffish grin. “Even more so since watching you kick your brother’s ass. When I tell you I’ve been rock fucking hard ever since—”

You snorted. “I don’t know whether that should disturb me or turn me on.”

“I’d personally prefer the latter.”

“Hmm. Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

It was clear he had already found out, from the way his nostrils flared, breathing in the scent of your arousal — just like you were breathing in his. A tantalising mix of musky smokiness that had you literally fucking salivating. 

“I’d quite like it,” You met Cassian’s darkened, hungry gaze, “if you fucked me — and stayed afterwards.”

A purely male growl ripped from his throat, and in seconds, he’d hoisted you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I’ll stay tonight, and the night after that, and the one after that—as long as you’ll have me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, but any attempt at a breathless response was swallowed hungrily when he dipped his head down to catch you in a scorching, searing kiss. 

You imagined it would always be like this — a burst of passion between two twin fires that were just as burning, just as hungry, for one another. Cassian was a constant, impassioned inferno of wild strength and courage, and you could meet that head-on — because you’d never been weak. Ever. It had just been about fanning those flames of power that had always existed inside you.

He was kissing you — devouring you — as he held bruisingly onto your thighs and stumbled backwards into your bedroom. The backs of his legs hit your bed, and he allowed himself to fall down onto the mattress, pulling you right on top of him. 

“As wet as the sight of you in these leathers makes me,” You husked, and Cassian groaned, “I want them off. Now.”

He leaned up, his lips pressing against yours. “Anything for you.”

The room was full of panting and bruising kisses as you tore at each other’s clothes, discarding them around you without a second glance. 

And then Cass was sprawled out on your bed — entirely naked. Entirely gorgeous. His cock standing to attention, his golden skin seeming to glow in the moonlight. His wings flaring around him brilliantly.

The sight was utterly breathtaking. He was utterly breathtaking. A vision. You wished you had Feyre’s artistic ability so you could paint him in all his stunning, naked glory. 

“As much as I love you looking at me like that,” Cass swallowed, “get over here and ride me until I’m hoarse.”

You swallowed, your stomach coiling tightly. Your skin brushed sensitively as you moved over him, every inch of your body alert. There were so many things you wanted to do — so many parts of him you wanted to taste, parts of you that you wanted him to taste, but…later. There would be time for that later.

You met his eyes as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your lips twitching as he hissed between his teeth. You pumped him once, twice, and then slowly pushed his head through your folds, gathering up your wetness. 

“Fuck—please.” Cassian’s teeth gritted.

“Hmm?” You hummed, your breath catching as the head of him rubbed against your clit. “What do you want?”

With an animalistic growl, he grabbed you by the hip. Just slightly — just enough to lift you. Enough to make room for him to grasp the considerable length of him and align it with your centre. He met your eyes as he bumped against your entrance. 

And you bit your lip as the head slipped inside. Held his gaze as you slowly, slowly, sank down onto him. 

It seemed like ages before he was fully seated inside you. And the position…it was so much deeper than when you’d had sex with him before. So much more intense. Like you could feel him in every part of your body, filling you up, completely and utterly yours. 

“Gods,” Cassian’s hips jerked. “You feel fucking incredible around me, you have no idea.”

Oh, you knew. Because it was shattering you just as entirely. You lingered there like that, allowing yourself to adjust to him, to bask in the feel of him. 

And then you began to move. 

There was no denying the twin gasps that left the two of you as you began to roll your hips in slow, languid movements, feeling every part of him in every part of you. Your eyes shuttered, and you threw your head back, sure that if you died right then, you’d die in pure bliss—

“Look at me,” Cassian growled — a pure command. His hands fastened on your hips, and he guided you, his fingers biting into your skin as you moved faster. “Want you to look at me.”

So you did. You opened your eyes, met his gaze. Something about the pure, heated hazel had you shuddering, your lips parting, brow furrowing in complete, unadulterated pleasure. 

“So fucking beautiful.” Cass hissed. He sat up, thrusting up into you, the angle closer, deeper. 

“Gods.” You gasped, sure you may just split in two. “Fuck—Cass.”

“You’re mine.” He purred into your ear through gritted teeth, his hand palming at your ass. “And I’m yours.”

You could have come undone at that declaration alone, you were sure. Because this was no longer just about sex — but love, too. And you showed him that.

You braced your hands on his shoulders, finding the perfect rhythm that had him sliding in and out of you, so slick, so wet, your skin slapping against each other. You wanted to feel this way forever. His other hand came up, brushing the scarred, ruined remains of what was once your wings, and something about his tender touch undid you entirely. You ground yourself down on him, gasping as he hit deeper inside you than ever. As your clit rubbed against him.

“Fuck—I can’t—” Cassian choked. He grasped hold of you, flipping the both of you in one fluid movement. 

You’d barely landed on your back before he was yanking your hips up and slamming into you—hard. Relentless. His wings flared out around him — an invitation. One that meant more to you than he could ever know. 

It was as he pressed a thumb down on your clit, the callused skin causing the perfect friction against your wetness, that you reached out and ran your fingers over his wings. And you felt his cock jerk deep inside you at the touch. Like he had absolutely no control left of his body, he threw his head back, choking on a strangled groan. 

“Gods.” He slammed harder, faster, his thumb working magic against you. “I’m gonna—I’m so close.”

And gods, so were you. So close to completely disintegrating beneath him from the pleasure. 

He thrust in once, twice, three times — right to the hilt. Right until he was pushing up against a delicious, forbidden spot inside you. You shuddered — or maybe he did. You weren’t sure which pleasure was yours and which was his. 

But one more scrape of your hand against his wing told you exactly which pleasure was his. He roared in a way you’d never heard before—and you came just as he stilled inside you, spilling into you.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. And neither could Cassian, it seemed, as he stared down at you, panting. He was still twitching inside you, his warmth filling you. And as he gave a few slow, languid thrusts, drawing out your pleasure, his eyes shuttered. 

“Gods.” He whispered again, swallowing hard. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

Slowly, he pulled out of you, and you bit your lip, savouring the feeling. Cass studied that look on your face, a soft smile playing on his mouth. 

“We have all night, love.” He said. Leaned down to kiss you.

You brushed his hair from his face. Pulled back just enough to study him. “So you’re staying.”

“Forever.” He kissed you again. “You can’t get rid of me, now.”

You were sure you must have been glowing as you smiled up at him. He kissed your lips a third time, and then your nose, your cheeks, your forehead. 

With gentle movements so out of character for him, he scooped you up, and laid back on the bed with you, tucking you into his side. His wings enveloped the two of you, cocooning you from the rest of the world. 

For a while, you laid like that together — happy, content. Cass’s hand rubbing indolent circles into your back. Your hand tracing the sculpted muscles of his chest, his stomach. 

It was after a long stint of silence that he pulled back to look at you, an inquisitive expression on his face.

“I’m curious,” He murmured. “What did Killian mouth at you earlier — on the bridge?”

You immediately snorted, ducking your head and pressing it against his chest. Your shoulders shook with laughter.

“Well?” He pinched your waist, a smile in his voice. “What was it? I don’t need to be jealous, do I?”

“If anyone should be jealous, it should be me.” You lifted your gaze to his, smirking. “He has a thing about your thighs. We may have been discussing them.”

Cassian cocked an eyebrow — and then his signature Cassian smirk tugged at his lips. 

“Well.” He grinned wickedly. “Maybe he isn’t so bad, after all. He clearly has impeccable taste.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his chest. But you couldn’t help matching that grin with your own, basking in the feeling of how easy, how right, this was. To laugh and joke with him. To love him. 

“Shut up and fuck me again, you ass.” You said. 

His eyes flashed, his smirk growing. “Of course, sweetheart.”

And he did just that. Again and again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[harmonysanreads]

could we get more of being alhaithams wife… he has me in a chokehold omg waxing remorse, waning candlelight and flickering candlelight were so good‼️

btw do u take emoji anons? id like to be 🎀 if u do!

Hell yes, I thought you'd never ask :) I took my time with this, hope you don't mind and welcome abroad dearest 🎀<3

Desire, Denial, Demise

yandere!al haitham x f!reader

cw(s): yandere, drugging (not to reader), lots of tension, allusions to stockholm syndrome

wc : 2.5k+

[ previously in this au ]

The curry is boiling.

The strange symphony of the bubbling broth, the heated haze veiling around the kitchen and the appetising aroma of spices open the gateway for you to temporarily lose yourself somewhere far, far away. You're thinking of everything and nothing at the same time. Your fingers, victimized to small cuts from occasional slip ups during chopping vegetables, are fiddling with a tiny vial, its exact contents are unknown even to you but its apparent enough that its less palatable than the steaming curry.

It would seem as if you'd been at this practice for some time now, sometimes taking off the clog of the vial to slightly dip it at the dish only to pull away before any of the substance actually fell only to clog it up again and resume stirring the curry instead. The curry itself is almost ready but you're still unable to reach a decision. You seem to be far more interested in the rhythm of the bubbles appearing and disappearing, a peculiar peace enveloping your heart, so much so that even the rising temperature around the stove fails to have your attention swayed.

What does break your trance is the pair of firm arms snaking around your waist and an embrace, so deceptively loving and domesticated, because, you're neither allowed inner peace nor to pass your attention to something that wasn't your husband.

Alhaitham has a talent for making almost anything appear normal to outsiders, by which you'd imply the oh-so loving gestures he initiates with the excuse of your marital bond. In truth, they're as one sided as his love for you and if this was even just a few months ago you would've resisted but not now, for you've learned. Learned how to tempt the monster with scraps of its desires, promising something greater and slowly gaining its trust, so that when eventually you shatter it to irreparable bits, the monster would feel ten times the hurt it'd inflicted upon you.

Or, that's what you've been scheming to do to your beloved husband and you're hoping the poison containing vial you not-so-subtly hide away from his gaze would just do the trick.

“What do you have there?”

You vaguely lean towards his abdomen (not like there's much space to considering how close he already holds you), eyes still fixated on the stove.

“Curry,”

“And?” he probes further, whether its intentional or not you can't deduce from his even tone.

Your eyes move towards the right, you sense him doing the same, “More curry,”

“And.. soup. I had intended to make biryani but you arrived so early, sorry.”

It's not like you're completely lying, you were hoping to have some more time alone. After all, having more varieties of dishes would've made it less suspicious when you refused to eat a single one. You don't even have to turn around to see some of Alhaitham's facial muscles churn in distaste against your cheek, you've seen it more times than you cared to count. Alhaitham doesn't like soup, or anything that hinders his peaceful reading time but there's a counter theory in your head, suspecting whether he'd noticed something amiss yet. Because if he did, he's doing a splendid job at pretending that he hasn't.

You're not so easily thrown off-the-edge anymore either, you learned how to act from the master himself. Though, you would be lying if you said this sudden low guarded approach wasn't irking you the slightest. You hadn't wrapped your arms around his shoulders nor pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek upon his return like you usually do to act like the loving housewife you aren't, you didn't greet him with the usual ‘welcome home’ that you know makes his heart melt and on top of that, you're fidgeting with your surroundings. You don't dare to think this routine you'd painstakingly followed the past months to lower his guard actually had this much affect, this is Alhaitham you're dealing with.

So you're only left with the hypothesis that he has taken notice and will jumpscare you with it any moment, as much as you hoped against it. Finally, after what felt like forever, you turn off the stove and face the Acting Grand Sage, he doesn't loosen his hold in the slightest.

“How about you freshen up while I serve the dinner? You look like you've got a headache— annoying scholars again?”

You push aside the urge to pinch his cheeks, opting to instead hold his face in your hands with as much delicacy as you can gather and you almost falter when he answers by leaning into your touch. No matter how many times you've done this, you can never take his reciprocations seriously. Or rather, you can't believe just how easy it gets him to do so with each passing day.

For a moment, you feel like a wicked villain. Alhaitham looks so at peace in your palms (literally), his innocence right now could convince anyone that he hadn't committed any of the atrocities he did to get you where you were at now. You hear the echo of a nagging thought, this really might've been the ideal married life so many dreamed of ; a husband that views you above everything else, a secure place to stay and stability, overall.

Alhaitham would often tell you how people would kill to be loved in the way he loves you, you'd never actually let his theories in your head but now, you found yourself hesitating. All this strenuously built trust would crumble like the sand palace Kaveh had planned to make in a drunken stupor should you get caught and in the off chance that you don't, this.. almost, almost perfect marriage life would too if you really poured out the poison from the vial.

“Alright,” Alhaitham presses one kiss to your palm and leaves. Leaves.

You wonder if Alhaitham was hiding more surprises for the night, for, he never lets you off easy. You watch his silhouette vanish within the inner-quarters of his house, you peak around the corner to see if he was hiding there or not and— nothing. As much as you despised acknowledging it, your husband was always an uncertain amount of steps ahead. You might be his weak-spot but even you haven't been an exception to his overwhelming scrutiny, because, a wise man knows to guard his weakness well.

So, for that man to just leave without gauging the cause of your peculiar behavior like he's always (or, now that you think about it ; when was the last time he'd tweaked with your mind? three months ago? four? five?) done sends your nerves ablaze. You take out the vial from where you'd tucked it in, almost dropping it because of your restless fingers. You're still facing the entrance of the kitchen, the vial is brought up to your eye-level. The translucent liquid lacks any indication of it actually being a poison, it came as the byproduct of your last escape attempt months ago ; exchanged with all your remaining mora from an equally shady merchant — you didn't care then, you knew you'd be caught so might as well take a weapon with you back, right? At present though, you found yourself slowly regretting that decision, unless you're to experiment with it personally, there's really no way for you to be certain.

You shake your head, nonsense. You aren't the one dying when you still have hope, you weren't the one who'd forced someone to be their spouse with methods that make you shudder upon recollection, you deserved freedom and he, deserved proper punishment for his crimes.

You take off the cog of the vial, glancing one last time towards the direction Alhaitham went. You still your hand from shaking and celestia, you can still feel Alhaitham's lingering kiss there.

Without even looking you pour the entire vial of the substance into one of the pots and then toss the vial out of the window. You grasp at the kitchen counter, heaving.

You did it.

-

The next time you face Alhaitham, he looks eerily pleasant. You do your duty of serving him the food, hesitating on putting the curry on his plate and you almost consider throwing it out with some half-assed excuse but gather your resolve again. You will see an end to this. Keeping your expression placid, you take a seat on the opposite end of the table and serve yourself something to avoid suspicion. It's as quiet as it normally is since neither you nor Alhaitham are that talkative while eating, you sometimes sneak a glance towards him to see if there's any change ; he seems to notice this.

“You're awfully interested in my face today, is something the matter?”

“Ah, I was just wondering if you're finding the food palatable.”

Your husband tilts his head, you never ask for his opinions regarding anything ; was today a special occasion by any chance? Alhaitham searches his memories, no, your anniversary passed last month and even then, your effort for that day wasn't anything remarkable.

“Anything made by you is good,”

Alhaitham may mistake your aversion of gaze as fluster because of his unexpectedly suave comment but in reality, his way-too-honest answer struck your conscience. You shook your head, counting the seconds rather impatiently, no appetite aiding you to finish your plate.

Why isn't the poison taking affect?

Momentarily, the merchant's twinkling eyes upon handing you the vial flashes in your mind and it inclines you to think that you may have been scammed. All the while, Alhaitham seems to have finished his plate, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.

“[Y/N], be honest, is something bothering you?”

You nearly jump out of your seat at his voice and your husband looks at you with more concern but asks for no further clarification.

Yes, you almost utter out, “No,”

Your eyes dart around the dinner table where most dishes still lay untouched, Alhaitham seemed to have eaten very little. When your eyes settle on the bowl of soup, a dreading realization strikes.

Don't tell me.. I didn't poison the soup instead, did I..?

“Actually,” you cringe at the sudden high pitch of your voice but it does its job in halting Alhaitham from getting up and possibly making his way to you, his eyes press you to continue. It only occurs to you then, what are you supposed to tell him now? ‘I poisoned this soup that I know you clearly dislike because I hate you so please, gobble it up and end my misery?’

This isn't the time for jokes, wake up!

“Haitham, to be honest, I prepared that soup for you with your stress induced state in mind. But.. ” you wet your lips and choke out the rest, voice fading in a sad adagio, “Since you don't like soup, I guess I'll just have to throw it out.”

It takes everything in your will-power to not break the pathetic act and slap yourself. You don't dare look up and see your husband's expression, already mentally preparing him to drop the bomb and interrogate you on all your weird mannerisms tonight.

In no way will Alhaitham of all people buy that, I wouldn't believe that, not even a rat will believe that, whoa—

You expected exactly two outcomes after your sad excuse of convincing (brought fresh to you by past experiences) ; 1. He tells you to eat half of the soup first, probably with the surface level reason that he won't be able to finish all of it and when you inevitably refuse, the truth will be revealed and 2. No need for roundabout approaches, you wouldn't be surprised if Alhaitham knew your scheme since the start. But no amount of past experience could prepare you for when your conniving husband took the bowl of the soup that he repeatedly said he despised and gulped it down in one go, without an ounce of hesitation — all because you muttered you made it especially for him?

(Admittedly, you feel a little touched.)

You stop gaping like a fish and with a fake cough chastise him, “Dear me, no one was stealing that from you, you could've just taken your time — what if you burned your throat?”

Alhaitham chugs down a glass of water, he doesn't look the most content with that decision either but seeing you worry over him like this... he has no regrets.

“The faster, the better, no? I really would just like to go sleep now.”

Hmm, he wasn't entirely wrong about that. The faster the poison takes effect the better it is for you but, he doesn't need to know that part. It's dead silent again, none of you seem compelled to move, your focus is on Alhaitham solely ; in the first few seconds, he seemed fine but then he started to loosen the collar of his shirt, an obvious expression of discomfort painting his normal poker face. You lean forward in your chair, unable to tear your eyes away.

“On a second thought, you were right. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten so hastily. It feels...so...hot...?”

Alhaitham's voice fades to incoherent words, he brings a hand to the locks of his gray hair, laboured breaths filling the vacancy of the dining room.

And then, his head meets the wood of the table.

You push back your chair, unable to believe the sight before you. That was fast, way too fast, perhaps. You take ginger steps towards Alhaitham's chair, when you're beside the Scribe's unmoving body, the weight of the situation drops on you unmercifully.

Wait wait wait, t-then this means that... I.....I killed my husband...

You can feel your vision blurring, no no, you're supposed to be happy! Happy that his tyranny is finally over! Happy that he'll no longer be able to hurt you or any other being for that — happy that he's gone.

These are tears of happiness, right? Right?

You hands move to wipe them furiously, you don't believe it, there is no way he'll die that easily. You'd fantasized about this moment so many times ; when the colour from his disgustingly beautiful eyes fades, you'll be on your merry way from this hellish life, you'll be allowed to wander anywhere, befriend anyone — but now, such desired dreams have lost their colour, as well. With no regard to your escape plans, your hand reaches for his unmoving figure, hunched over the table ; your senses are closing in, you can see nothing but him, you can hear nothing but the ringing in your ears and you're not sure what happens afterwards.

One moment, you feel your skin barely graze his shirt and the next, something warm springs up, grabs your wrist and your back slams against the table, legs dangling over...

Huh?

There is Alhaitham, up and about, albeit he looks.. perturbed and delirious. Extremely delirious.

“Sly woman, what were you thinking?”

Heated skin, reddened face, hearts in the eyes—

These symptoms, oh no...

You try to shove him off and create as much distance as possible, the effect your puny struggling has is non-existent ; he only holds you more suffocatingly in his lap, closing in slowly slowly slowly—

That is the moment you accept ; you have been scammed, just not in the way you were speculating you've been.

#i will not elaborate 😇 #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x female reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere al haitham #yandere alhaitham #yandere al haitham x reader #yandere al haitham x female reader #yandere alhaitham x female reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x female reader #──⚝ 🎀 anon #answered #yandere concepts #yandere x reader #yandere aesthetic #yandere x darling #male yandere #tw : drugging #yandere writing #genshin yandere #genshin al haitham #alhaitham genshin

[neverchecking]

Day 13: Olfactophilia- With Sage

Man it's crazy this this was always day 13 and i never changed it bc it was already written and someone (bailey) told me there were craving Sage. Nah, that's crazyyyy.

Smut so Minors Do Not Interact. If I find out a minor has interacted with my blog, I will block you.. Thank you!

Smut CW: Sage. (He has a thing with how you smell), thigh fucking bc MAN is that HNNNNG, also he bites.

This is Day thirteen of My Kinktober so be sure to come back and check out the other days! Friendly Reminder that all of my smut is tagged 'Cindersins' including this, but this will also be tagged as 'Cinder's happy halloween' along with the run of the mill smut tags.

Kinktober Masterlist <<< Day 12 >>>Day 14

He knew he experienced the world…differently.

 Ever since his death however many odd years ago, he’s witnessed it first hand. His eyesight was sharper, catching the smallest movements as they brushed against blades of grass. Pinpointing the exact moment a club was swung in his direction, easily dodging past it for a counterblow. Catching the smallest reflection of light against ores that otherwise would’ve been lost in the depths. 

His hearing was exponential as well. He could hear the soft pads of paws behind him in an effort to sneak past him. Hear the delicate crushing of weeds as a cave dweller moves about. Catch the smallest rumbles of pebbles falling from a hill as a beast tries to sneak up behind him. 

His taste could pick out any spice used, he could feel the smallest changes in texture, but truly, his sense of smell had been his saving grace. When the wind shifted, he could smell different prey from miles away. When he really focused, he could smell which direction the nearest stable was, where the nearest monster camp was. 

He could smell you. 

You were his favorite smell, by far. Something tinged by the smell of skin and sweat, but nothing could hide your natural musk. Something laced with the natural undertone of the earth and whatever soap you had bought off a merchant that month. It was indescribably comforting. It grounded him because if there was something Ganon could never replicate, it was the way you smelt. His puppets could look just like whoever they wanted, they could feel as Hylian as they come, but they would never carry the smell of life. 

It’s why he took every chance given to him to stuff his nose into your heavenly hair or the junction of your neck and shoulder, just to smell you. 

It’s why his teeth stayed clamp right under your jaw as he dragged his cock between your thighs, feeling the muscles twitch as you clung to him, marking up his back in your own delicate handwriting. It was sensation overload, but something so deliciously overstimulating he couldn’t help but indulge. From his nerves shocking his entire system with each drag against your plush flesh, to the tantalizing taste of your sweat remaining tart on his tongue to the pure essence that clouded around him. It was smothering, choking him with a cloud of something that was utterly you he couldn’t help the urge to drown in it. 

Golden Goddess above and her three servants, he prayed this is the one thing in his life he’d never lose. He’d burn the world to keep you with him, ignoring the smell of ash that followed after him. 

#yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #link x reader #yandere legend of zelda #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #linked universe #loz #cindersins #Cinder's happy halloween #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #lu sage #lu sage x reader #yandere lu sage #yandere lu sage x reader

[berberriescorner]

Until The Cops Come Knocking

Characters: Kevin Atwater x Black!Reader.

Summary:  A simple house call turns into a pleasant surprise.

Warnings: Let’s see, just a smidge of spice. Fluffiness and flirtation included. There are a few sprinkles of profanity. There may be instances where you cackle loudly.

Word Count: 2,700+.

A/N: I know. You’re shocked I took time away from my baby daddy, Rio. It’s just something about Atwater and Halstead, though. Wait until you see what else I’m cooking up for those two. I honestly couldn’t tell you how this random idea came about. That’s the joy of being a Libra. My imagination just keeps going and going. IT’S LIBRA SZN BABY♎️! Enjoy my sweet lovelies.

Song Inspo💞:

Boot-covered footsteps thumped down the winding stairwell of the run-down apartment building. The creaking door of the entrance swung open as both detectives released an exhausted and irritated breath. Both men took in their surroundings as they approached the large pickup truck they arrived in. Seeing nothing lurking about, Jay slid into the driver’s side as Kevin took residence in the passenger seat. The men released another irritated sigh before Halstead spoke, “This damn case has us running in circles. There has got to be something we’re missing here.”

“These dead ends are wasting valuable time. If we don’t get a hold of things soon, this sick psycho will slip through our fingers. For all we know, he could be halfway to Mexico by now. None of these witnesses are going to cooperate.”

“We’ll figure something out. We just have to find a way to convince them we can protect them and their families from this monster. We should wrap this up for the night, though. We’re both too tired to follow up on any more pointless leads. I say we head back to the precinct, check in with the team, and call it a night.”

The men agree it’s probably the best bet as Jay turns over the engine. As they begin the journey back to the precinct, a call comes in over the radio. There are multiple reports of a noise complaint about a party at a property in a neighborhood only minutes from their current location. Atwater shrugs his shoulders at Halstead.

“I mean, we are only five minutes away. Might as well check it out real quick.”

“It’s probably some spoiled-ass rich kid throwing a kegger,” Jay responds. “Let’s just get this over with,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“It’s strange. This address sounds familiar. Have we ever answered any calls or done investigative work on this street,” Kevin questioned.

“I feel like I’ve been here with Haley or Voight, but I can’t say for sure.”

Kevin gave him a slight head nod as his phone vibrated in his left pocket. Checking the notification brings a small smile to his face. Atwater’s eyebrows twist in confusion as he reads the message. Jay glanced in his direction, laughing at his friend's facial expression.

“Bro? Are you good? If you stare at that screen any harder, it may glitch,” he joked. “What’s wrong? Are you in the dog house or something? And please don’t hit me with that, “who says I’m dating anyone nonsense.” The girls are on to you. You’ve been missing happy hour for months now. Giving us the excuse that you’re tired. You’ve turned down every woman within the last four months.”

Kevin ignored most of what Jay said, returning to the initial question. 

“It’s this text, bro. Either words are missing, or I’m being butt-texted. Is that even a thing,” he asked, still puzzled.

Before Jay could respond, another text came through. Kevin read the three-word text and guffawed. His tongue wet his bottom lip before the bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He was fighting the heat from the three words on his screen.

Mamas🤤😈🫶🏾: need fuck daddy

Baeee🙈💓🫶🏾: Oh! That’s how you’re feeling, mamas? I thought you were out with your girls tonight.

Mamas🤤😈🫶🏾: M so tips feels so goods need daddy😩🤤.

Baeee🙈💓🫶🏾: Drop your location, baby. I’ll come to get you. I’ll scoop you when I finish up here. Stay put, love.

Mamas🤤😈🫶🏾:

“I see you’ve deciphered the message. What’s up,” Jay asked.

“It’s nothing, dog. It’s just a little inside joke. You wouldn’t get it,” Kevin lied.

“Your reply sounds suspicious as hell. I would question it further, but we’ve arrived at our destination.”

“Damn! You can hear the music from the gate entrance. Don’t they have security? It is a gated community.”

“They’ve visited this house twice already. They told neighbors to call the authorities a third time.”

“This should be fun,” Atwater responded dryly.

Jay was the first one to approach the door. With a gentle nod, both men positioned their hands on their holsters, and Halstead gave a firm knock. 

“Sounds like a bunch of drunk women,” Kevin whispered quickly, releasing a small laugh.

“Dear Lord. It sounds like we’re about to interrupt girls' night. Brace yourself, brother, if these women are as drunk as they sound. It could get a little handsy.”

“If one finger lands on you. Upton’s going to kill you. You have to stop falling for your coworkers, Halstead. You take the term work wife too seriously,” Kevin jokes.

The door swings open, halting Jay from giving a rebuttal. Both men angle their heads down, spotting a redhead who is no more than four foot eleven. Her gaze creeps over the detectives slowly as she mumbles, “Good Lord. Money well spent.”

Jay and Kevin look at each other, confused by her words. They identify themselves, but it goes ignored. Another woman joins the redhead. She appears to be Filipino and just as tiny as her friend. Kevin starts to identify himself, but both women turn toward the rest of the group.

The redhead purrs, “Ladies, get your ones ready. The entertainment is here!”

Both detectives look flabbergasted as they try and correct them. The ladies are seriously inebriated. None of the words leaving the detectives’ mouths are getting through. Red continues, “Ms. Maid of Honor! Do us the honors and get the Bride-to-be ready for her lap dance!”

Her fellow tiny friend squeezes between both men, pulling them inside the house.

“Wait a minute, sweetheart,” Jay tries to reason.

“Hold on there, ma’am. You’re mistaken,” Kevin interjects.

Surrounded by a pack of drunk and lust-filled women, Jay attempts to talk over the boisterous crowd, “Ladies! Let’s keep things calm-.” He’s thrown off as someone grabs his ass. “Come now, ladies. Let’s keep things civilized and respectful.”

Kevin cackles as Jay’s face starts to redden. That is until one of the women starts running her hand up and down the veins of his forearm. The women begin catcalling them, going on about how sexy they are. “If I would’ve known they were sending strippers this fucking sexy. I would’ve paid double. Cuff me, Mr. Officer,” the redhead panted.

Kevin stepped back and politely removed the thirsty woman’s hand from his person. He started to reiterate that they were the actual police. Those words stuck in his throat as he felt dainty arms wrap around his waist. As if that hadn’t thrown him off guard, the unidentified woman began thrusting her hips, humping from the back. Just as he was about to turn around and reprimand the stranger, he heard a familiar voice. To Kevin’s surprise, he turns around to find you, his tipsy girlfriend smiling and slapping his ass. Jay looked at his friend in shock as his face lit up with laughter at your slurred words.

“This ain’t no strippaaa! Back off, you thirsty bald-headed hoes! I’m just joking. Not really. This MY MUTHAFUCKIN’ MAN! My man, my man, my man, my man! We go together. Real bad.”

“Okay, Yung Miami. You need a break from TikTok, baby,” Kevin teased.

Jay, assuming his friend was enduring harassment, attempted to diffuse the situation and calm you down. Kevin releases a deep chuckle, patting Halstead on the back.

“It’s all good, bro. Shortie can touch me however she wants,” he insists, licking his lips and staring at you with hungry eyes. “You lit, ain’t you, mamas?”

Halstead looks on in complete and utter confusion. “She’s beautiful, man, but don’t forget we’re on the clock. Voight would have our asses for indulging in this.”

Atwater smirks at Jay as he shrugs his shoulders. His eyes travel back to your face. Kevin reaches out, placing his hand on your waist. He tugs at you, pulling you into a quick peck.

“Relax, Halstead. Little mama’s telling the truth.” 

Jay, looking at him puzzled, waited for Kevin to explain. 

“Halstead, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend. We’ve been dating for the last six months. It’s an odd way for you to find out, but yeah. Jay, this my lady.” 

Embarrassed, you released a tiny giggle, burying yourself into Kevin’s side. Pulling back, you looked at him in a lust-filled, drunken haze. 

“Hiii baby,” you slurred, smiling ear to ear.

Kevin smiled back, biting his lip, “Wassup, beautiful? Listen, we hate to break up a wonderful time, mamas, but it’s pretty noisy. As a courtesy to the neighbors, could you tell the crew to simmer down a little bit,” he said in that tone that always made you shiver. 

“Okay, baby,” you smiled, nibbling your lip.

Atwater leaned in closer, whispering in your ear, “Yeah? You can do that for Daddy?”

Releasing a shaky breath, you nodded yes in reply.

“That’s my good girl.”

Jay looked at Atwater with raised eyebrows as you settled the girls down.

“Very impressive. Teach me your ways, bro.”

“No can do, brotha. If it’s in you, it’s in you. Can’t be taught, my man,” Kevin boasted.

You managed to calm the girls down. They all relocated to the kitchen to make a fresh batch of margaritas. Your best friends, who had answered the door, instructed you to find out if Kevin’s partner was single. They trotted off heartbroken after telling them Kevin had mentioned a girlfriend to you before.

You stumbled back to your chuckling boyfriend, who wrapped you in another bear hug. Pulling away, he looked at you like you had been caught red-handed.

“I know you’re the maid of honor, but did I hear the word strippers? Yes, I’m almost certain that’s come up several times since we arrived. You don’t need all that swinging in your face. Come on, my little drunken love. We’re taking you home. Your little ass is about to pass out. How much alcohol have you had?” 

“I’ll go,” you stand on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “If you take me home and put me to sleep, just the way I like.” You finish, biting his ear playfully. 

“That can be arranged…for tomorrow. I want you sober, mamas.”

Kevin laughs at your drunken pout. “You’ll be out like a light before we make it to the house. It’s going to be alright, love. Sleep it off some, and I promise I’ll break you off afterward.”

“Let’s go so I can get you back to your car, bro. You’re not having sex in my truck,” Jay joked, but at the same time, he was serious.

“Halstead, be easy on the jokes now. I’d hate to have to inform Hailey about the many times you got groped tonight.”

Kevin gingerly swept you from Jay’s truck, transferring you to his own. He managed to buckle you into the front seat and nearly made it out of the parking lot unnoticed. His head shot back with an exasperated sigh as the exit to the precinct flew open.

“Nice try, Atwater. We want to meet your gorgeous lady friend Halstead’s exact words. Better watch your girl, Kev,” Burgess taunted. 

Hailey followed close behind, hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. “You honestly think Jay was going to keep your secret? Not a chance, Atwater. Before you try to snitch, I already know how he was treated like a sexy piece of meat tonight,” Hailey sassed.

Kevin shushed the women and directed their attention to your sleeping frame. “You two can give her the third degree another time. I’m taking my little party animal home,” he whispered, looking at you with adoring eyes. “I’ll bring her by the precinct to formally introduce her soon. Just not tonight, ladies.”

“Bachelorette parties are the best. I’m looking forward to mine,” Upton sighed.

“Jay should be worried if Burgess is throwing it. I’ll see you two tomorrow. Let me get my sleepy baby to a comfortable bed.”

You had slept the entire ride to and from the precinct. Kevin carried you into his home, taking you straight to the master bathroom. You began to stir as he placed you on top of the vanity.

“How long was I out,” you groaned.

“About an hour,” his lips brushed against your forehead. “Do you think you can handle showering on your own? Or do you want me to help you, love?”

“I want cuddles in the shower. Shit! I don’t have my overnight bag. What about my hair,” you whined.

“You gon’ be good, sweetheart. One second.”

Kevin started opening cabinets and sitting items next to you on the vanity. His face spread into a shy smile when he saw you holding back tears.

“Why the watery eyes, mamas?”

“Two things. First of all, sir. Bless your parents. I’ve never had a man love me this way. Baby, you went and bought all my hair care products.”

The both of you looked lovingly at the pile on the counter. Kevin had purchased every single product you had in your bathroom. Everything you usually brought with you lay there.

“What was the second thing?”

“I’m an emotional drunk.”

“Yeah, I kind of guessed that,” he chuckled. “You can sleep in my clothes. I’d prefer you slept naked, but that’s up to you,” he licked his lips.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“If I’ve sobered up enough for you to slide up in it,” you purred.

“I’d say you’re thinking pretty clearly, love. Let’s get cleaned up. I’m starving, and I got a taste for something sweet.”

“Yeah,” you questioned breathlessly.

Kevin stepped between your thighs, kissing you hungrily. Releasing your lips a few moments later, his hand brushed against the outside of your shorts. “Yeah. It’s nice, soft, juicy, and delicious. You gon’ give me a taste, love?”

“Start the shower before I come all over this counter.”

Hours later, the two of you lay in bed panting and satiated. The room rested in a comfortable silence. Your head rested on Kevin’s chest as his fingertips drew patterns against your naked skin. His lips left a litany of kisses across your temple. He pulled in a breath before speaking.

“Baby girl,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Move in with me. I want to build a life with you. I know it’s only been six months-.”

“Yes.”

“I wanted to ask you another question, though,” he playfully scolded, giving your butt a light tap. 

You looked at him and smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, continue, baby. Either way, the answer is yes.”

“Cool. So we’re getting married then?”

“Ye-wait. What?”

Kevin flipped you both. Lying on top of you, he brushed the hair from your face.

“Marry me, mamas? I know it’s way too soon-.”

You kissed him to shut him up. It lasted long enough to calm his fluttering heart.

“Yes.”

Without another word, he kissed you hard, stealing your breath. Tender touches morphed into desperate touches. In an instant, the room filled with pants and moans as he slipped back into you. Thrust mirroring thrust, as Kevin drove you to the brink of ecstasy until your tired body would no longer allow it. He littered your face with kisses as the both of you whispered words of affirmation until sleep claimed you both.

The aching in your bladder woke you as the morning sun crept into the bedroom. Not wanting to wake your sleeping giant, you wiggled free. Tip-toeing into the bathroom, you quickly relieved yourself and washed your hands. You unboxed one of the toothbrushes Kevin bought, quietly falling into your morning routine. Standing in the mirror brushing your teeth, your free hand brushed curls from your face, and you froze. The toothbrush dangled in your mouth as you stared into the mirror, shock written on your face. Hand frozen mid-air, you gawked at the beautiful diamond sparkling on your ring finger. You startled as a voice sounded behind you. Kevin stood in the doorway, muscles rippling, in all his naked glory, staring at you in the mirror. He walked up behind you, pressing his chest to your back, and whispered against your neck, “I always come prepared, baby girl. Notice it’s the correct size and the cut you like. Do I know my woman or what,” he bragged, finishing with kisses to your throat.

Throwing a finger in the air, you quickly rinsed your mouth and toothbrush. You placed the brush in the holder as you spun around, snatching Kevin’s hand. Pulling him back toward the bedroom, he questioned, “Where are we going, love?”

“Back to bed. I’m going to suck the soul out of you. Then I’m taking my ass to the kitchen and cooking you breakfast in bed.”

Fuck I love this woman.

Hope you enjoyed it, my sweet babies! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

tagging:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @starrynite7114 @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @sunshine-flower @boomclapxox @astoldbychae

@skyesthebomb @tbugger01 @thatbrowngruul

#berberriescorner #until the cops come knocking #kevin atwater x black!reader #kevin atwater #daddy kevin #kevin atwater x reader #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer #black writer #Spotify

[weird-an]

The first time Billy tries to cook on his own it happens because he's hungry and his dad is at work. His mom hasn't come back yet, it's been a week and he's still waiting for her.

His stomach hurts and he remembers her letting him stir the pots when Neil wasn't home. There is canned soup, but he can't find the opener. Cooking is for girls, his dad says, but he isn't here right now.

So Billy grabs a pot, fills it with water and puts some maccaroni in. He burns his finger on it, when he tries to pour out the water. The maccaroni are too soggy and taste like nothing, but at least he isn't hungry anymore.

The blister on his finger reminds him that he has to look out for himself and by the time its healed he realizes his mom isn't coming back.

When Susan and Max become part of the family, Susan and Neil sometimes go on dates that take way longer than they told them before. Neil loves responsibility, but only for others.

Billy cooks for Max and him these nights. The first time he tries to make chicken, it's a disaster. Argyle laughs at him a day later and asks him if he used any spices. Apparently a ton of salt is too much and not enough at the same time.

Argyle comes over, whenever Billy is sure that Neil and Susan will stay out for at least a few hours more. He brings herbs Billy has never heard of, he shows him how to make picadillo, enchiladas, shows him how a squeezed lime can make everything better. Not only the food, but Billy's whole day.

Billy has his first kiss over a bunch of fish tacos, his lips still tingling from chili and Argyle's warmth. At home, a place where he never thought he'd like to be. But here? In the kitchen? It almost feels like a home.

But then Neil drags him away from California, away from Argyle's smile and tasty dinners. Neil is breathing down his neck and everything is awful.

Billy is stewing in his own misery. Argyle and him break up, more out of desperation than anything and that's just the cherry on top.

Billy is all boiling angers and searing sadness, tries to get on top of Hawkins High, just to forget. When Susan and Neil are gone, he tells Max to get some pizza.

Life is bland and without any flavor.

Steve Harrington and him hang out one day, Billy too tired from learning all about monsters and an Upside Down which is supposed to be even worse than Hawkins.

Harrington tells him he's living off canned food and microwave dinners and maybe it's the beer in his system or Billy's longing to finally cook something again.

Billy digs through Steve's fridge and finds a few veggies and a bit of rice. It's simple, but it's tasty.

Hawkins gets a bit more color and Steve gets even prettier. He comes over more often, drags Steve down to the supermarket and bullies him until his kitchen is always stocked. It's a great outlet. For his sadness, his anger, chopping it into tiny little pieces, throwing it into a pan. It sizzles and grows into his heart beating faster when he looks at Steve. His stomach is full of love after month of starving.

Steve kisses him when Billy has just put a lasagna in the oven and it starts to smell like juicy tomatoes and melted cheese.

Steve's kisses are a great appetizer. Billy wants to simmer in them.

#is anyone interested in steve x billy x argyle #i call it californiasandwich #calisandwich #i like the thought of argyle coming to hawkins and become part of their relationship #i like the thought of billy getting twice the love #harringrove #argyle #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #argilly #argyle x billy #billy cooking!! #cali bros

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

sooo.. what was the aftermath w king soma?*flutters invisible lashes desperately*

Yandere! Male! King x Gn! Spy! Reader part 2

Same warnings as the first part. This one is short!

Tw/notes: rape, coercion, mind break, impreg, a/b/o for non-fem reader, soft nsfw/lime, Queen in this case is gender neutral

How many days has it been since you got caught by Soma?

You watched as the sun sets and the moon rises, and vice versa over and over again by how much time passed inside your luxury cage.

Every night, Soma would come in and fuck you senseless, like a wild animal driven from lust and anger.

But there are also times where he weeps and cries on your lap, begging for you to love him as you took in his "love".

Every day was suffering, and every day was a chance slipped by to escape from his thorny grasps.

As the king, Soma knew you can't escape his clutches that easily. Despite being a spy of the Empire, you were dropped by Emperor Callisto once he knew that you were caught.

As a courtesy too, he won't attack the kingdom since Callisto got the information he wanted, and fled to raise hell to other cities/towns/kingdoms.

You mindlessly wandered around the room, getting antsy and restless from the unchanging environment you're in.

You want out, you want to get out of here.

"My Queen." A voice emitted out from the rumpled bed sheets, being illuminated by the sun rays of dawn. "You're awake."

Soma sat up, yawning. His chiseled visage of what was once perfection in your eyes, but now a portrait of a monster long gone faced you.

"you're not thinking of escaping, are you?" His voice, laced with anger yet a twinge of fear wafted through the air and into your ear, making you shiver.

You shook your head.

You can't even get the windows to open. It felt so suffocating.

Betrayed by your Emperor, and imprisoned to abuse by your King. You're not winning in life at all as Soma got off the bed, naked and approaching you.

"it's cold, my queen. You're only wearing thin garments, you need to warm up." His sultry voice, now filling with lust again, is making you groan inwardly. This man's stamina is something.

As he put a robe on your frame, he can't help but hungrily look down at your belly.

Your 5 month old pregnant belly.

Yes, you've been imprisoned for half a year now. With Soma making sure to impregnate you to make sure you know who you belong to.

Looking down at your stomach, you gulped a bit and wondered what your life is going to be with child.

Also, the fact that you retreated to the back of your mind shouts warnings to your body, wanting to escape at all.

But without your primary consciousness on the forefront, all your body could do was move to the window longingly. An instinct to run freely, and out of Soma's grasp.

Soma relished in this new you. Only letting your body speak, and your lips singing sweet melodies of your moans and whimpers.

But sometimes, he missed your spice, your anger and rage.

But most of all, he wants you to be fully his. Not just body, but mind and soul.

Soma kneeled in front of you, kissing your hands and looking at you with such love and care.

What a hypocrite.

"I will bring you back, my Queen." He whispered. "I want you to be mine completely. So come out of your mind, my love. Don't be afraid."

He coaxed you gently, nudging you while rubbing his cheeks on your palm.

And he smirks as he saw your pupils tremble.

Just a bit more.

Just a scoot, and you will be back.

"You'll be back. Soon you'll see..." He whispers, a promise left on his lips spoken on a threat and love. "You'll remember you belong to me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LMAO SORRY I CAN'T HELP IT I NEED TO INSERT THE LAST LINE.

I went back to my Hamilton brain rot after all 😔

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #tw yandere #yandere male #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

[love-hatred-stuff]

》 hey, hi~ here's a draft that I wrote instead of continuing other fics that I wanted to write, lmao I hate myself :')

》 Eddie Brock(Venom) x (f)Reader

⚠ a little warning; age gap (10y), daddy issues here we goooo, just a tiny bit spice and some sprinkle de dinkle ★angst★

♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

Eddie hadn't had sex in what felt like centuries. Actually just one or two years but who's counting when all he can do is use his hand and Venom mostly doesn't even let him finish. That monster doesn't give shit about it, he claims that Eddie wouldn't need it. He needs food and water but not a jerk off.

Well if he knew why he'd been going on it so much lately, maybe Venom would let him, but he's not ready to give that up yet. It's probably the only thing about Eddie, Venom hasn't completely figured out yet.

It was you. You were the reason he was slowly but surely losing the mind he shared with the compatible slimy alien inside of him.

•••

"Eddie thanks for checking, but I can manage." You told him on the other line of the phone.

Eddie just wanted to help you pack and carry your things since you were moving to another apartment. You've been able to get promoted again and now you were at the very top of the not even so small company you've been working at for about five years now. You could say you were pretty good at your job.

"I habe plenty of strong people here, helping me out. I don't even have to carry anything, I just decide were the furniture and boxes are getting placed. You don't need to worry, darling."

Eddie had a smirk dancing on his lips. You knew he could do everything they were doing, at least twice as fast.

"I should come over later then. I'll bring dinner." He suggested.

"Great idea. But don't let Venom choose take out again, please Eddie." Ugh the way you were saying his name made his brain go blank and suddenly Venom was hyperaware of what was going on.

"Promise. See ya." He immediately ended the call, leaving you a little confused. Ed could sense what Venom felt, just beneath the surface.

"Holy Shit!!!" Venom growled.

"You kidding me? She's the reason you've been going to the gym and eating healthy now? Why you've been completely desperate to stroke your dumbass dick?" Then he laughed. Finding it hilarious that Eddie was in love again. After his last woman, Anne, he'd been taking a while to open up again. Actually he didn't talk to any other woman besides you.

The thing was just, that you were ten years younger than him and he'd practically seen you grow up. Of course he never saw you the way he does now, back then. But it was quite bad how hard he had fallen for you in the last few months.

"I KNOW! She's too young for me. I'll keep my distance, okay? It wasn’t my intention to develop feelings." He tried defending himself.

"As if I cared, you nasty human. Get you dick wet if that's what you need." The symbiot snarled.

Eddie was surprised, to say the least.

"You're not gonna disturb us?" He asked in suspicion.

"Thought you wanted to keep your distance? Not anymore? Kidding. Do what you gotta do. Since you're my host I gotta let you have at least one thing."

"That'd be great." He smiled to himself.

"Now get your ass up at get her something nice, if you wanna get inside her pants."

"I don't wanna get inside her pants! Well- maybe a little, but I care about her more than that."

Eddie sensed, by Venom's silence, that he doesn't wanna get involved in his love life any further. Although he couldn't blame Eddie, you were gorgeous little human. A young one at that.

So he showered and grabbed his keys, so he could get dinner and some flowers. He was a little nervous buying these, because he knew that would be the first romantic move he's ever made on you. You probably only saw him as like an uncle or something, nothing more. Knowing his luck, he didn't even expect you to like him back.

He would know soon.

•••

Well, but who knew, he's gonna find himself underneath you instead?

Eddie was sitting on the couch, the only thing that wasn't completely packed with stuff and boxes. You were straddling him, taking his breath away with the way you moved your skilled tounge against his. He was a little hesitant though, barely touching your hips with his hands because he didn't know were to put them. He wanted so badly to grip your sides tight and push you closer against his crotch.

But he was unsure. Even though you clearly gave him all the signs that you wanted this, he felt like he was using you. Venom's earlier words spiralling in his mind; '-if you wanna get inside her pants.' No! He didn't! He wanted so much more than that. So it felt wrong to just jump you the moment you said you liked him back- well you didn't really say anything, you just smiled to yourself as you accepted his flowers and began to stalk towards him, until this moment, where you plastered him with marks and kisses.

Despite all those doubts, he felt heavenly, holding most of his sounds back, almost impossible. You were a woman with so many strengths, kissing and grinding being apparently one of them. Glad, he found out.

He only realised seconds later that you'd stopped and were looking straight at him.

"What's wrong?" Your worried look scratched at his heart instantly.

"Nothing." He lied.

He was a good liar. But you weren't buying it, you knew him well enough.

"You don't want this? You should've said so, Brock."

Ugh, another pang shooting through him stronger than he'd expected. The usage of his last name? Nah. You only did that when you were seconds away from switching your emotions. You were gonna tell him to piss off and stay away from you, until you forgave him, unless he would tell you the truth right f*cking now. He knew because he'd disappointed you once before. That was a complete different scenario, and now you felt personally attacked. He could feel it, even Venom could.

"No! I really really want this! Or else I wouldn't have told you what I did earlier. It's just, that it feels wrong touching you, with my hands."

Oh. No.

He just made it worse, didn't he? Judging by the way your face went blank, his speech definitely went sideways.

"Get lost." You were pointing to your door with your finger, giving him a stern look.

He felt like a little scared kid again, being scolded by his mom. Only ten times worse.

"What? No! I'm saying this because I'm so much older than you, y/n! I swear on my mother and the symbiot living inside of me that I've been craving you for the longest time now. I love you, god damn it! But I shouldn't and I know that, alright? But I can't help it. I'm sorry if I send you the wrong signals. I'm just worried that people will take you away from me, because of that." Eddie stood up and slowly walked towards you, trying to not make you even more uncomfortable than he already had.

You looked a little more relaxed now though.

"So you denied me because you feel a little perverted? God, Eddie you're not a grandpa and I'm a grown woman with a good life ahead of her. Do you think I would throw that away for a forbidden romance? You and I are perfectly okay to be with each other. Nothing's gonna happen, it's only ten years, Brock." Eddie flinched again at the end. Seemed like he had to soothe you a little more.

"Could you please stop addressing me with my last name, it scares me a little. I get it now. I'm sorry for worrying so much, sweetness." Eddie gently touched your cheek, caressing it and putting a strand of hair behind you ear.

"You have a lot of making up to do, you grandpa." You glanced up at him, allowing a tiny smile to dance on your cherry lips.

-----

To be continued...?

Love, love, love

~ love-hatred-stuff ♡

#eddie brock #eddie x reader #we are venom #marvel imagine #eddie brock x reader #daddy issues

[magicalqueennightmare]

Home

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You take down Evan and make it back to New Orleans where Elijah awaits

Warning: mention of killing and a tiny smidge of spice

Your phone vibrated in your pocket causing you and Max both to mumble a curse as he spread a shield around you both with his magic, a tactic to make the men looking for the two of you simply look anywhere but the corner the two of you were in.

The Banes twins had figured out Evan had indeed poisoned those on his side against hunters, using witches who wanted a squadron of their own who was capable of taking on things that crawled out of the deepest abyss of hell and every other realm.

The only way to sever the spell would be to kill Evan. The issue with that was it had to be an instantaneous moment of you killing him while the coven Alicia and Max had formed for this stripped his witches of their powers.

That took this hunt from the level of “find the monster and kill it” all of you knew to forming a tactical team of hunters spread across the states. Enchanted coms gave you access to hunters states over trying to pinpoint Evan's exact location. You'd called the kill, everyone understood the importance to you that was being the one to put down this threat.

Once the threat passed Max lowered his shield and grabbed your arm “Come on” the two of you ran for his motorcycle that was parked nearby and nearly dove onto it.

Elijah didn't let his temper out but when another call went unanswered he was considering breaking the phone. “She's been gone for two weeks. She dropped contact three days in. Brother perhaps she moved on” Klaus’ voice hit his ears and he spun to face him “Her Nova is still in storage. Most of her belongings are still in her apartment. Why would she leave all of that behind simply to get away from me?”

The truth was Klaus was trying to provoke his brother by offering a challenge that you simply left because after a few days of your absence he'd seen what it had done to Elijah and Rebekah and tried to locate you himself. No trail of you had been left behind in over a week. Rebekah was distracted by Marcel so his goal was to not let Elijah consider the very real possibility that you may be dead.

“If she comes back near New Orleans we'll know but you can not make her appear in front of you from will alone” he tried to choose his words carefully and could see that they had little effect on Elijah. “I care for her Niklaus. I do not want to consider having lost her this soon after finding her”

You watched Alicia walk across the room time and again, going over the vials of herbs and ingredients that lined the table. Some of those had required some traveling to get your hands on and a few Dean had gotten shipped in on a favor from Ketch.

Your hands moved from muscle memory alone, loading your guns then sharpening your blades. Evan's location had been narrowed down, you had wolves nearby watching that could report back should he move.

This had taken nearly a month. You hadn't spoken to Elijah in so long the truth was you didn't expect him to be waiting on you when you got back to New Orleans. You knew what he'd say had he known what you were doing. He'd ask you to let him handle it. He'd gladly kill Evan and get Klaus to wipe out the witches but you needed to do this yourself.

Max walked in the door and looked from you to his sister “It's time. We've got a half an hour window. It's now or never”

You were exhausted and sore when you practically rolled out of Alicia's car “Sure you don't want me to stick around?” She asked but you shook your head “A witch as powerful as you? Marcel will send people knocking. I'll be ok”

She laughed “Just call if you need anything sweetheart. You should sleep better tonight” you grinned “Oh hell yes”

—----------

You walked into the door of your apartment and dropped the bag of dirty clothes next to the door but took care to push the bag of weapons under the bed where they would be close at hand. You desperately needed to shower.

You thought of Elijah as you walked into the bathroom. You wanted to see him but part of you feared his reaction to how long you'd been gone.

Instead you hit Rebekah's number on your phone as you walked into the bathroom. The moment she answered you heard her breath a sigh of relief “About bloody time! I was afraid you'd fallen off the face of the earth”

You laughed lightly,guilt slipping into your mind “I'm sorry Bek. I just needed to handle this on my own” “I understand the need but a text would've been nice. Elijah has been unbearable” you grimaced slightly “How bad?”

She laughed and the noise wrapped around you. You hadn't realized how bad you'd missed her as well “Let's just say he was ready to set fire state by state until he laid eyes on you again. Klaus had to talk him down” christ if Klaus was being the voice of reason..you closed your eyes “Chances of delaying him knowing I'm back?”

“I can give you maybe half an hour” “You're an angel with fangs Bek” you bid each other goodbye with promise to meet the following day before you laid your phone down on the sink and quickly got into the shower. Evan's blood was still caked on your arms and splashed through your hair. You couldn't face Elijah bloody.

—---------------

You walked out of the bedroom and had just plugged your phone in and sat it on the end table next to your bed when there was a familiar knock at your door. The thought to make him wait flashed through your mind but you pushed it down.

You walked over to the door and looked down at what you were wearing. You'd tossed an oversized shirt and sleep shorts on. He'd seen you in less considering.

You opened the door and he blasted by you into the apartment. “Come on in” you mumbled, the sarcasm in your voice falling flat when you turned to face the vampire standing in the middle of your home. Anger rolled off of him in waves. Instead of his usual suit he was wearing that damn henley again and you wondered if Rebekah had told him to wear that since she knew the effect it had on you.

You shut the door then turned to lean against it with your arms crossed over your chest. You'd done nothing wrong. You owed him no explanation and wasn't about to grovel for his affection. “Rebekah said you've been a bit unhinged?”

He scoffed at your response “Tell me, how would you like me to react? You left and haven't spoken to any of us in a month” “I had business of my own to take care of” you replied and within the blink of an eye he was in front of you, eyes skimming your body “and you didn't trust me with the information of who you were after?”

You uncrossed your arms, placing both palms flat on his chest to give you enough room that his presence wasn't dizzying. He let his hands come to rest on your hips, you didn't protest because in truth you were craving his touch.

“If you respect me Elijah, you'll respect that I had to do this because it was my former fiance that was targeting hunters. I brought the threat to my community, I had to handle it” He nodded slowly “and if you respect me darling the next time you need to go on one of these little missions I simply ask you tell me”

He leaned down enough to be looking into your eyes “I don't like the thought of losing you” you didn't know how to respond. You'd expected a lot out of this but not a confession of not wanting to lose you. You knew how you felt about him but you knew you were human, you'd die probably sooner than later given your life. Were you worth the effort?

You didn't want to give voice to those concerns. You just wanted to feel Elijah. You moved your hands up his chest to hook them around his neck and bring him down into a kiss. The moment your lips touched you let out a light sigh. This was what you'd been missing for weeks. The kiss was hungry and charged, both of you feeling the need to devour the other.

His hands went from your hips to your thighs and he picked you up effortlessly. You gasped at the movement and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours. You ground your hips down against his, feeling how his body was already reacting to you.

You were forced to pull away from the kiss in need of air so he moved to your neck, nipping the areas he knew would make you quiver in his touch. “Bed Elijah, please” you moaned and he grinned into your neck “What happened to my smart mouthed little hunter who was ready for a fight moments ago?”

You pulled back and glared at him “You've got five seconds to get me to the bed” before you could get your sentence out completely, your back was on the bed and he was over you “Fast enough?” You shook your head but couldn't hide how your thighs clenched when his hands slipped under your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your bare breasts.

“Please quit teasing” you begged and damn him he had the nerve to smile almost boyishly “I've waited a month to touch you, taste you. You're going to get comfortable and let me enjoy this” you wanted to argue, to throw some sarcastic comment back but the way he was looking at you pulled every thought out of your mind. You nodded slowly and his smile turned from boyish to devilish “Good girl”

—-------------

You could remember the first few times you and Elijah were together. He'd been gentle, almost too gentle. You understood his fear of hurting you. He was strong and had so many years of experience and as much as you loved being held and worshiped there were times you wanted it rougher, to feel his fingertips bruising as he drove into you pushing you over that peak of pleasure.

He'd learned what you liked and was intuitive enough to know just what you needed. Tonight he knew you didn't need soft or gentle, you needed to clear your head of anything but him.

—----------------

You gripped his hair tightly as his tongue worked at your clit, fingers curling over that spot deep inside of you that had your back fighting to arch off the bed despite the fact that one of his arms laid across your stomach held you in place. “Elijah..please…fuck”

You'd already come twice and damn him he was determined to make it a third time before he ever even stripped free of his clothes. You could feel that pressure building in you and the moment he barely let his teeth graze your sensitive flesh you came with a cry of his name falling from your lips. You pushed weakly at his head “Too much…too damn much”

He left one final kiss against you then leaned back to smile up at you “Giving up already?” You wished you had the energy to fully retort but you simply waved at his clothes “You're severely overdressed Mikaelson”

He nodded then stood, quickly stripping his clothes before crawling back up your body slowly,nearly at a human pace. When he reached your lips he caught them in a rough kiss allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue “You look absolutely exquisite like this”

You opened your mouth to respond but he chose that moment to slowly push into you, clearly enjoying the way your mouth fell open and your eyes closed against the stretch. “Tell me what you need” he whispered, unmoving as he placed open mouthed kisses along your jaw taking special care to tease every place he knew would have you clenching around him.

After a moment you opened your eyes to find his gaze locked firmly onto you. You gave him a small smile “Show me how much you missed me” He shook his head with a slight smirk “All my years of living and you may very well be my undoing” a sharp roll of his hips ensured you didn't have the ability to reply beyond a deep moan falling from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

You woke up curled up to Elijah's chest. It wasn't the first time the two of you had spent an entire night wrapped up in each other but the sight of waking up to him next to you was something you'd never grow tired of.

He groaned lightly as he stretched around you “How are you feeling?” You placed a kiss on his chest “Delightfully sore and happy to be home” he smiled at you referring to New Orleans as home. “How long do I have you before Rebekah steals you away?”

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand “You've got a couple hours” he leaned down to pull you into a kiss “In that case, I still have a month to make up for” you felt his hands begin to roam lower and moaned into the kiss. You may have to meet Rebekah for dinner instead of lunch.

#elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x reader #the originals fanfiction #tvd fanfiction