#that long lingering look over the cliff's edge

[somnambulic-thing]

This fic is part I of my come as you are universe but can be read as a standalone.

Series Masterlist

greedy Eddie Munson x gn!best friend reader, early 20s, E 18+

Words: 1.8k

| best friends to lovers, fluff, finger sucking, light biting, Eddie comes in his pants, get together, silly and a little cheesy, not proofread |

---

“You need something?”

“Huh?” you look up from your book and right into Eddie’s eyes staring at you over the edge of his mattress the way a nosey neighbour might lurk over a garden fence. You’d been so lost in your thoughts about Eddie that you hadn’t noticed him abandoning his own book to creep up close to you. You, spread out your stomach on his sheets. Eddie, perched on his carpet in increasingly uncomfortable-looking positions as the evening progresses, but never more than an arm’s length away. You always could just reach out and give his hair a thorough ruffling whenever you felt like it.

That’s just how it was, just one of the many shapes your togetherness takes. Rituals established and refined over years. You share the bed during movie nights, or when one of you is reading out loud to the other and you settle down on the armchair without even thinking about it the second Eddie picks up one of his guitars to play for you, leaving the bed to him.

“Ah, finally I caught your attention,” he says, muffled by the mattress, his fingers slowly creeping over the edge. It’s adorable. 

“What did you say?” you mumble and snap your book close as if the pages could somehow give away that you had been only pretending to read the whole time. He would see smouldering holes with charred edges where your intense stare had lingered and ask you why your brain was producing such intense heat that you ruined the copy of Howl’s Moving Castle he got you for your unbirthday only a week ago.

His brows draw slightly together. His fingers curl to grab the sheets and then he’s dramatically and labourously pulling himself up like he’s climbing a cliff in a storm, huffing and groaning.

“You need any help?” you chuckle; an insufficient expression for the unbridled affection you harbour for this silly man.

“No… no… almost— ahhh.” Chest now flat on the mattress, back bend in one of those ways that made you certain there wasn’t one solid bone in Eddie Munson’s body. He crosses his arms on the mattress and rests his chin on top of his wrist, so close now you could just dip down to press your lips to his forehead.

He smiles up at you. “Book s’ good then?”

“Huh?”

“Huh?” he mocks you. “You haven’t reacted to a thing I said in the past twenty minutes so I assumed the story must be really captivating.”

“Oh!”

“Oh!”

“Stop that!” you huff in faux exasperation, tapping that very kissable-looking spot of forehead lurking through his messy bangs with your index finger.

With an eerie speed, Eddie grabs your finger in his fist. You watch in slow motion as he opens his mouth wide and guides your hand closer and closer, large dark eyes fixed on you, daring and full of mischief.

The routine would be to struggle. To say: no, Eddie, bad Eddie! Maybe shove him a little, maybe curse his ass, have a little wrestle, have him breathing hot against your neck as he tries to pin you down; it’s tempting. So tempting. But you don’t.

You just watch, mesmerized, how your finger slowly disappears inside his mouth, almost two digits deep, watch his lips pull back from his teeth, his jaws close.

He’s gentle, not biting to hurt, just playfully chomping down a few times.

Does his heart pound as fast as yours? Does he know what he’s doing to you?

You want to push in deeper, long for his lips to close around you, to suck you in. 

He is hiding his tongue from you and that won’t do.

“Careful,” you say with a grin, “could be poisonous.”

And, oh, how willingly he takes the bate.

The soft, wet tip finds the pad of your finger, slides back and forth over and over while the corners of his mouth twitch wickedly. The routine would be to say: gross, Eddie, eeew Eddie and to free yourself from his hold and coat his cheek in a thick stripe of saliva in revenge, feel him shiver when you blow cool air against his wet skin. But you don’t.

Because this is perfect.

And maybe this was how your problem solved itself. It has been weeks of wracking your brain on how to figure out if Eddie too craved to deepen your friendship the way you did without ruining everything in case he didn’t, but maybe the solution was simply to stick your finger into his mouth and give him free rein over it.

“Gnophe!” he mumbles and shakes his head. His teeth clamp down just a little bit harder.

“No?” you ask softly, “You feel good?”

Eddie nods and as if wasn’t obscene already, the way he looks up at you through his lashes, big eyes playful and excited, the eagerness of the gesture only amplifies the spectacle in front of you.

“No weird tingling? No? Or hot flashes?” He sets to shake his head but doesn't follow through. Instead, his eyes widen for a split second; if you had blinked at that moment, you’d have missed it. You can feel the sheet under you being pulled taut, you follow the movement to Eddie’s hand still resting on the bed, twisting the fabric in a clenched fist. 

“Because,” you work hard to keep your breath steady, “your cheeks are so very red, Eddie.”

He swallows loudly. The action forces his lips to close around your knuckle, cool and wet, and your mind goes blank.

“Fuck,” you moan softly.

His fingers around your hand twitch, his eyes flutter and then shut. You press your thighs together and your hips into the mattress, mourning the absence of his gaze and before you know what you’re doing, the knuckle of your middle finger nudges his bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. Eddie groans; a long stretched noise fading out into a high-pitched sound you’d almost call whiny. The pressure of his teeth disappears and his tongue darts out, nudging guiding sweeping your middle finger into his mouth as well. Eddie hums, running the tip of his tongue along the groove between them.

“Look at me.”

Beneath you, on the floor, on his knees, with your fingers in his mouth, Eddie opens his eyes and with that, tells you everything you need to know and more than you hoped for.

You push in deeper, just slightly past the second joint and Eddie sucks in his cheeks, trapping you in the wet heat of his mouth.

“You like that?”

The nod is slow, almost heavy. Saliva collects at the corners of his mouth.

Lifting your hips, you pull your knees under your stomach and start to sit up. Eddie sucks you in harder, brows drooping as if in worry you could end this now.

“Shit, you’re adorable when you’re greedy,” you say and come to sit on the edge of the bed. Eddie moves with you, eyes fixed on your face. He swallows again hard when you settle with your knees apart and pressed into his sides. Large hands settle on your thighs, squeezing softly, then running up up up until they find your hips to hold on to.

Your heart races with the new shape your togetherness is forming, with the trust and longing in Eddie’s eyes. Your free hand cups his cheek and he leans into the touch, sighing softly. It’s perfect.

Then the suction is gone, you draw back just slightly and his tongue prods the edge of your palm.

“You want more?”

A moan.

“You sure?”

A moan and a nod and your insides catch fire. You slide a third finger into his mouth and revel in the smooth slide of his tongue between them, the way he’s drooling for and around you. He bites down a few times, mostly soft but testing you with harder chomps in between. Your other hand winds into his hair at the back of his head, testing him with soft scratches, soft pulls and a few firm tugs in between. He likes those, moans and slides his fingertips under the hem of your shirt, digging into your skin, holding on tight; he’s vibrating.

“Look at you,” you breathe and lean in close, pressing a kiss to his hollowed cheek, to his jaw, close to his ear. “You look so much better like this than I could have ever imagined.”

Teeth clamp down, the sting is delicious. Eddie moans, hips twitching between your knees.

“What pretty things you can do with this big beautiful mouth.”

Eddie draws his head back, releasing your fingers all at once and slumps against you. You embrace him, welcome him where he belongs now. His face is pressed to your neck, hands finding your back under your shirt, nails digging in.

“Keep talking, please,” he groans against your skin and licks a dripping stripe along your throat. “Taste so good… please…”

“Fuck,” you drawl out, overwhelmed and buzzing, desperately rolling your hips against his stomach. “Wanna know what else y-you can do with that mouth, can think of something sweet for that clever tongue to taste—“

“H’lly shiii—“ he nearly pushes you over, jerking and twitching in your arms. You feel teeth grazing your neck, then he’s sucking on your skin and it stings he’s sucking so hard. It lasts a little longer until he stills and goes slack in your arms, breathing heavily. You’re dizzy and hot and you want to have him twitch and writhe for you again. You want to see his face when he does.

“Just…” he pants into your shoulder, pulls your collar aside and kisses it. “Just wanted to know if you needed something from the kitchen…”

You laugh and scratch his neck, desperate to feel him shiver again. He does.

“Did… you just—“

“Fucking come into my pants? Yepp… Was that unclear?”

“Just wanted to hear you say it.”

“Minx.” Eddie draws back, cups your face with both hands and kisses you. His lips are wet and swollen from sucking on your fingers and the moan escaping you vibrates hard against his mouth. Eddie’s tongue pushes past your lips to lick into you. He’s sloppy and excited, nibbling on your lips, licking your teeth, smiling and moaning and he’s just perfect.

“That a good time to tell you that I’m in love with you?” he pants, forehead pressed to yours.

“Oh yeah,” you laugh softly.

“Yeah? Cool,” his warm hands run up your sides. “Because I’m ridiculously in love with you, sweetheart.”

“Got a pretty bad case for you as well—“

“Nuh-uh…,” he pulls back to look at you, smirking. “Say it.”

“I’m in love with you, Eddie Munson.”

He wiggles his head and laughs, mouth wide open and baring teeth. The hands on your back slide down and straight to the waistband of your pants. You almost slip off the bed when he hooks his fingers in and pulls.

“Jesus, you’re eager.”

“Greedy,” he says nervously, blushing, but with so much determination. “And you promised me something sweet.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #my fic

[grugruel]

Big Iron

Pairings:

bounty hunter!Arthur Morgan x outlaw!f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: She's escaped a robbery, and bounty hunters have been sent out after her. They'd made no problem so far– that said, the notorious Arthur Morgan set upon her trail.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: Arthur Morgan, pinv sex, rough sex, soft sex ish, lap/bulge-riding, praise, petnames (girl, sweetheart, ma'am), creampie, overstimulation.

AN: 3rd person pov, trying it out. Not yet proofread!

The campfire blazed in the night, casting a warm glow over the small, temporary hideout as smouldering flakes of ash rose in swirls above her.

Her face lit up, the sizzling embers of spent coal entrancing her.

The soaring fires of a bright building shouldered It's way into her mind, stealing space from any other thoughts.

The trees around her rustled. She leaned back against the wall of the overhanging cliff. Sliding down into a sitting position and slanting her head in ponder, slipping deeper into the memory.

Money was all she had needed. But the simple, well practiced heist escalated. Attempted arson had suddenly been added to her list of offences, robbery another one among them. Which she could admit to, and proudly so.

But the fire. . . Now the fire, was not her fault.

And not only was the law after her, but they'd sent out money hungry, bounty hunters aswell. She'd already tied two of them down yesterday, big brutish men they were. All muscle and no brains. Still, they proved quite the nuisances, but wouldn't be a problem anymore. . .

. . .Unless they died of starvation, and then she would indeed be guilty of murder. Lovely! She gritted her teeth at the memory, rolling her eyes interanally.

But she doubted it, seeing as they were curently tied to the fence of the sheriff's office.

Which left only one real threat.

One man, one singular man; a notorious outlaw himself. He was the sheriff's most resent hire. Big, deadly, tall and muscled. From long days of hard work killing and robbing she imagined.

She'd actually seen him in person once, and she could admit, he looked dangerous, and devilishly handsome. The rumors had been right about that, she was only hoping that his volatile reputation along with the Van Der Lind gang's would turn out to be folly.

She shivered at the thought, shaking her to the very bones. If it were from the thought of him or the cool of the night, she did not know. She closed her arms around herself, stroking them for warmth as she pushed the unpleasant thoughts away, her gaze snapping to the treeline beyond. She was back to reality, and suddenly accutely aware of the black darkness that lingered between its stems, but her vision was good and she was quite hidden after all. No one would be sneaking up on her–

'Ma'am.'

From the shadows, a man appeared at the edge of the campfires domain, vaguely illuminated by its warmth. Broad and tall in frame, the deep night clung to his back. His sudden prescence was the only evidence of his arrival, he'd made no sound nor been seen before he'd needed to be.

Her eyes snapped in his direction, widening with recognition, the eerie sense divulged itself to her body. Like poison, it spread quickly, crawling into every blood vessel and turning them ice-cold along its journey.

'Mister' she greeted, doing her damndest to stay calm.

His hat covered his eyes, but the smile he gave her was unmistakable. 'Theres quite the bounty on you girl.' The drawl of his accent sunk into her skin like the warmth from the fire.

'There's no doubtin' that,' she nodded in admittal, slowly moving away from him, 'Although im only worth half of it, I assure you.'

She sat still, eyes meeting his as they poked out beneath his hat. He tilted his head to face hers, regarding her silently. Eyes flickering over her, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, and how her blouse revealed the hills of her chest. '. . . 'S that so?. . .' He took a step closer, the rope in his hands now excruciatingly evident to her.

She got to her feet in one swift motion, hesitantly gesturing for him to stay calm. 'Mister, I'm not a murderer. Crimes I did not commit have been written in my name. The sheriff framed me!' She took a few steps to the left, placing the fire between them.

'I belive ya' ma'am.' His hands pulled on the lasso, adjusting its length. Gripping it roughly from time to time, trigger fingers readying themselves for any sudden movement. 'But the law can be a crooked thing sometimes.' His eyes narrowed in on her, then shrugged nonchalantly. 'But a bounty 's still a bounty girl.'

The birds sang above them, and the world blurred around her, her knees suddenly week. And unfortunately for her, he would be there to catch her when she fell. In a sense too literal for her liking.

'And I can say the same for myself ma'am, I'm a bad man. . .' His voice imposed, yet, the gravely tone vibrated perfectly well in her ears.

Gulping her nervousity, she assessed her options. . . And then ran.

Trees rushed past in peripheral whirls as she made her way along the cliff wall. Rope flexed behind her, threads wringing against eachother as it was swung and thrown with a woosh.

The air caressed her cheeks, pulling tears from her eyes and whistling in her ears. She gave it all she had, but it wasn't enough to stop the lasso from capturing her with deadly accuracy. It fell over her shoulders and tightened around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides.

The rope pulled taunt– and the world stopped moving for a short second, with a yank, her body whipped forward and her feet was swept from under her– then just as sudden, it sped up again.

As a tree cut down for its timber, she fell. The ground rushing up to greet her face as she stumbled to the ground with a hard thud. She panted, smelling the earth and feeling the wet grass tickle her face as she struggled against her entanglement; wriggling and thrashing like a stranded fish.

Well-used leather chaps groaned behind her as he stalked closer, winding the rope up as he did. Its sound of hot friction against fabric made her stumache churn. She rolled onto her back to get a better layout of the situation. And there he stood. Just by her feet, looming over her. With his back to the fire it cast a glow around him, framing the big man as he filled her sight. Fear and desire fought for the helm, conflicting her mind terribly.

He crouched down, bending over her as he circled the rope around her, securing his bounty tightly. He grabbed the knot and pulled her up diagonally, pulling her flush against his body so he could level her head with his. '. . .And I've done bad things.' He whispered, lips brushing against her ear. A dull pulse appeared where there ought to be no pulse. She screwed her eyes shut, lust for this man was the last thing she should be feeling. But oh. . . How his breath raised goosebumps, having it spread over her skin like wildfire.

He straightened his legs and stood back, taking her with him while keeping her close to his chest.

Her breath fanned over his lips as they stood a mere inch apart, one bound and the other free. A smirk made its way onto his lips, his hands sliding along the tied rope until they were at her waist, and in one strong motion threw her over his shoulder.

She yelped, 'You brute!' kicking wildy in hopes of getting free. But one of his arms circled around her legs and gripped the back of her thigh to keep them still, while he laid the other on the small of her back to stop her from falling. 'You keep your hands to yourself Mister!' She shouted, struggling against his bullish strength.

'Yes, ma'am.' He assured as he began walking, not paying her futile thrashing much mind.

She cleared her throat and huffed, expecting more of a reaction. She didn't quite know what to do in this situation, she hadnt planned this far ahead. She didn't think she'd ever be properly cought. 'Well, good.' She said curtly, calming herself. Being a nuisance and making the situation worse would be a bad idea, and she'd not made any progress nonetheless, his grip was solid steel. She'd have to settle on feeling his strong back beneath her instead and revel in the feeling of his hand on her thigh.

He stomped out the campfire before moving to where he'd hidden his horse, 'Sittin' or layin'?' He asked, being nice enough to hand her to options of sharing his saddle or to be stored over his horses ass.

She huffed, 'What a gentleman, take a guess Mister.' She muttered.

He nodded, 'Sittin' with me it is.' his hands moved to her waist, easily transfering her from his shoulder to the saddle. She scoffed for the sake of scoffing, eyes narrowing as she looked down on him, and if it had the power to, her look would certainly have killed him. 'Quite presumtions of you.'

With a low chuckle and a shake of his head, he gripped the saddle before climbing on. Placing his hands on either side of it, on hand on the pommel and the other on the cantel. Which just so happened to be between her thighs, and just behind her ass. Almost grazing her on both sides as he braced himself against it, eyes meeting hers with a satisfied smirk, 'Much more attitude from ya' girl and I'll have to take meassures.'

Shock sprung itself on her, feeling dizzy all over again. The knuckle of his thumb was an inch away from brushing against her cunt. Her eyes widened at the fact, and the implications his words carried. Her loins burned, it took everything in her power to stop from rocking her hips forward. But she simply cleared her throat and neutralised her expression, 'Id like to see you try.' And faced away from him, turning her nose upward.

He climbed onto the horse, placing himself close intil her and leaned over her shoulder. 'I will if you let me ma'am.' He whispered in her ear, and then spurred his horse. Shivers shook her at that, her entire body vibrating with a dull sense of need.

They rode silently for a long while, and she wanted to sass him, she wanted it terribly. But was both afraid and hoping he'd take action, just as he'd stated. The miles wound on, oh it felt never ending. Especially with the man behind her, rutting his hips against her with every step of the horse. He was a blessing against the cold, but pure torture as his heat soaked into all the wrong spots of her body.

But finally, it came time to rest. They'd ridden nonstop from the morning of her capture to the next night. If that werent enough, a heatwave had been raging the entirety of the day aswell, and the setting of the sun had barely made a difference.

He set her on the ground, binding her feet and hands before starting on the camp. Making quick work of the fire and tent as she sat down on a rock, silently watching the man work, and very much enjoying the show.

His skin was slick with sweat, much like herself. The cool light of the moon and the warmth of the fire made him glisten in every sense of the word, and oh. . . the way he toiled away.

He had removed his vest and chaps as he got to work, then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt which now stuck to his skin. A nuisance for him to be sure, but a dream for her, she could practically see the muscles of his chest rippling.

A drop of sweat trickled down her temple, tickling her skin and drawing focus away from the view. Her eyes widened as she realised how she stared at the stranger and shook her head, attempting to clear it.

God, focus. She needed to hatch a plan. Running would do her no good, he would be too fast. He wouldn't accept bribes either, and was very hard to persuade. No attempts had been succesful so far, he didnt even want the money she'd stashed away.

At that thought, unavoidably, abashedly her eyes snapped to him as he pulled his shirt off and reached for a new one in his saddlebag. She clenched her jaw to keep it from falling, his strong chest was adorned by hair, trailing down his abdomen and disappearing under. . . The waist of his pants. In that moment, she wanted nothing else then to see where that trail ended. She wanted to trace her fingers along it, or perhaps lick it, all the way down. . .

Her jaw began aching, she fought herself to tear her eyes away from him. Managing to direct her gaze at the ground instead, waiting for him to put a fresh shirt on.

After a short while, she dared to look up again. He'd pulled a log to opposite side of the fire and sat down, a cigarette placed between hid lips and was breathing in a long drag of it. Tilting his head back, he released the cloud of smoke with a sigh.

Her eyes followed his movements intently, studying them as she hoped that perhaps he'd notice her and offer one–

'Want one girl?' He nodded toward her, gesturing with the match box.

'I do, yes.' She answered expectantly, holding her hands out for him to untie.

But to her surprise, he scoffed, then stod and walked around the fire. He crouched on one knee infront of her, his arm bracing against the other. 'You'll have to do better than that.' He said, only a feets distance between them. Then picked the cigarette from his lips and offered it to her, holding it an inch from her mouth. She hesitated, observing him with disdain, 'Go on.' He nodded. But reluctant to follow his orders, she met his eyes, making sure he knew how unhappy she was about it, and then leaned in despite herself. Closing her lips around the cigarette, she sucked the toxic smoke smoke into her lungs like it were air, keeping her eyes locked on his. She swore something glint in his eyes as he studied her pouting lips. A plan struck her suddenly, but–

'Good girl.' He hummed.

Again, shock gripped her. The praise rose right to her head, sending waves of heat cascading through her body. Then she coughed, the smoke settling wrong in her airways. She pulled back, letting him retrieve his cigarette as she regained her composure. 'You alright there sweetheart?' He asked with a grin, and patted her back before replacing the cig between his lips.

'Fine.' She hissed, still reeling from. . . Everything. 'You got anything stronger? Whiskey, bourbon?'

He nodded, and pulled out and old bottle of bourbon from his bag, 'Could you?' She held her hands out to him again.

He studied her, stroking his stubbled jaw in thought. 'Got somethin' for me then?'

Insinuations led her down a path of all kinds of possibilities, but she instead opted for a simple, 'Please?' Instead, attempting it cheapishly.

His hands slipped down to his hip, pulling the knife from its hilt, 'Thats more like it.' He mumbeled with his cigarette clad lips.

And cut the rope around her hands and feet, stopping at the rope around her waist and met her eyes. 'Try anythin'. . .' He raised his eyebrows, and lowered his voice to a mocking tone '. . . run, hurt me' his eyes narrow as a corner of his lip tugs. 'And there'll be a steep price to be payed.'

Swallowing, she nodded enthusiastically, 'I just wan't a sliver of freedom before im locked up, you could understand that right?'

He nodded, 'S'pose so. . .' And began cutting, '. . . difference is girl' the rope snapped and slid down her sides, 'I'd never get caught.' He gathered the rope from her sides, his fingers accidentally brushing against her hips.

Her breath hitched, and her skin tingled desperatley for more of him as fluttering wingbeats set of in her stumache. Such a small thing, turning into such a big reaction.

He cleared his throat, handing her the bottle as he threw the rope into the fire. He sat down on another log, not as far away form her this time. Leaned back against the tree behind it and spread his legs wide. His bulge was enough to make her salivate, 'It's not easy you know, for a woman like me, when there's men like you Mr Morgan.'

Arthur quriked an eyebrow in question, 'You know me?'

'I know of you.' She corrected, taking a big swig of the fluid, then handed it back to him for him to do the same.

He nodded silently, a sigh escaping under his breath. 'All bad I guess.' He took another swallow, not to bothered by her statement. Probably used to hearing it by now.

She shook her head, taking the bottle and another gulp. 'Many of the ladies say you're handsome.'

At this he looked up at her, chuckling. 'Well, I don't know 'bout that.'

'It's true. . .' another sip, followed by a hiccup. 'They say you can be quite the gentleman too.'

His eyes bore into hers, his tone serious but expression joking as he humours her. 'Depends on the lady.' He reaches for the bottle, and she stands up to give it to him. Walking closer, she hands it over, fingers brushing against eachother in the motion.

His eyes meet hers, and she brushes her hand under his chin, 'You know what else they say Mr Morgan?'

'No, what do they say about me sweetheart?' A smirk tugged at his lip, the liquor starting to affect the both of them.

'That you're good in bed. . .' She steps between his thighs, her hand falling from his chin to his neck, scratching at the nape gently.

He hums appreciatively, then takes another sip of the bourbon and sets the bottle aside. His hands reach for her, coming to a rest on either side of her thighs, pulling her closer to him and squeezing them at his pleasure. 'They're only rumours girl.' He tilts his head backward against tree to get a better look at her, eyes fastening on her lips.

With her other hand, she hikes her skirt up, revealing her thighs as she step over his legs, one at a time, slowly sinking down onto his lap as his hands automatically slide to her hips.

She placed herself on top of his bulge, and he grunted from the pressure. The pulse within her began strumming at her nerves, turning them jittery.

'I doubt it Mr Morgan.' She whispered, 'Women do not lie to eachother of such things.' his bulge beneath her grew harder, luring a hidden smile from her, but she wills it from her lips so that it only reaches her eyes. 'They say you're rough, or gentle. Dependin' on your mood.' As she says that, she swears she detects the faintest red creep up his cheeks. Arthur Morgan. . . Blushing? Now, she couldnt help herself as the smile reaches her lips. Hes quite endearing.

The man cleared his throat, acting as if it had never happened. 'That's told of me in everythin' I do girl.' He smirks, the grip on her hips hardening, knuckles turning white.

'But you're always sweet 'n caring.' She continues, her own words were building the lust within her, making the pulse ever stronger. It was becoming hard to focus. She needed to release some of the pressure building inside her. Evaluating the consequences, she rocked her hips downward. Grinding into his bulge.

Simultaneously, she whimpered and he hissed. She leaned against him, her lips brushing against his ear as she nuzzles his cheek. 'Apparently, It's also true what they say 'bout ridin' cowboys–'

'Girl.' He interrupted with a chuckle, 'I know what you're doin'.' He breathes, 'Seducin' me.' With the tight grip on her hips, he helps rock her hips against him, the rough fabric of his pants grinding against her core.

With a gasp, one of her hands shoots out to burry itself in his hair. Then she leans into him, the other hand grabbing his shirt for support as she rests her head against his shoulder. He nuzzles his cheek against hers, and mutters, 'You use your sweet talkin', then get me drunk 'n run off, that your plan girl?'

Her eyebrows furrow, hips grinding down harder, her ruts becoming more frantic, needy. She screws her eyes shut from the copious amounts of pleasure washing over her. All she can do to answer him is hum in admittal as shes straining hard to even stay contious.

He chuckles. 'Easy girl. . .' His voice commanding, low and raspy as he slows her hips, but keeps the pace hard. 'Use your words.' He orders, loving the way shes falling apart for him.

She nods hastily, hoping it would satisfy his request. But he pinches her hip through the fabric of her skirt, and her eyebrows furrow in pain, however not having the energy to even make a sound. Her thoughts were a blur, she couldn't tell what to keep secret anymore, 'Yes– yes. . .' She sighs, the coil inside her tightening impossibly hard.

'Mmh, thought so.' He breathed, the words curt on his tongue, but lust evident in his voice. His hands leave her hips, one arm snaking around her waist, his hand placing itself at the small of her back to push her against him.

Then he stands, drawing a whine from her. She did not quite understand what was going on as the loss of movement gradually undid all the progress she'd made. 'Mr Morgan?' She inquires, hesitantly wrapping her legs around his hips.

He walks them to the tent, 'Arthur.' He corrects, carrying her with ease. He pushes the flap to the side and kneels, bending over her as he lays her on the ground.

'Arthur.' She smiles, worry seeping out as she realised he was making them more comfortable.

His knees slide apart, hooking her legs upon them as they spread. Her hands shoot up, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt to pull him closer, close enough for his lips to hover over hers. Their eyes meet, 'Please. . .' She whimpers, one hand sliding downward. '. . .Please.' She says again, fingertips trailing down his abdomen, suddenly grabbing hold of his bulge with a firm hand, his member rock hard. 'Outlaw or gentleman?' She asked, smiling a wicked smile.

He grunts, lips brushing over hers. 'Neither.' And grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away from his crotch, catching the other in the motion. His free hand reached over her head, and the hauntingly familiar groaning of strong rope sounded above her. She shook her head, 'Arthur, please. . .' Panic moved into her voice, the repeated words carrying a completley different meaning this time.

He held both wrists with one hand and tied them together with the other, the rope burning her skin in the motion.

She cried out unhappily.

But he chuckles, in a matter of factly kind of way. Stroking the burn gently as ge corrects her, 'Should've behaved.' And when done, he sits back. Observing her as she lies tied up, legs spread infront of her, circled around his hips. Much to his dismay, he wouldn't be enjoying the sight as much as he wanted to. 'It's late.' He grunts curtly, then stands and walks toward the flap.

'Arthur. . .' She pleads, trying one last time.

He turns his head just enough to see her in his peripheral, 'Get some sleep, you got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.' He flashes his eyebrows smugly, 'Night, sweetheart.' Then exits the tent without another word.

She huffed, unbelivable. Nuzzling herself into the bedroll.

Sweetheart. . . But how could she be annoyed when he calls her such a thing. She dreamed herself away, with imagines of a shirtless Arthur Morgan and the feeling of him inside her. But she'd not given up, make no mistake, he would fall asleep and she would leave. . .

The night carried on and the temperature finally began dropping, a shiver shook her pleasantly. It was a welcome change. Her body strained as she raised her neck to get a look of the outside. Through the flap she saw Arthur, sitting, snoring, hat covering his face as he leaned back against the tree he'd previously been sitting on.

Now, she needed to get rid of her restraints. Rolling over, she crawled toward the opening, her eyes never leaving Mr Morgans sheathed knife.

The fire had been reduced to embers at this point. Crackling and sizzling lowly as the cool moisture in the air riddled the grass with dewdrops, dampening her hands and skirt as she approached her goal. She sat on her knees, then moved to grab the knife carefully, gnelty sliding it out. The sound of it unlatching nearly had her yelp.

No movement in Arthur.

Shallow breaths, she exhales. Relief flooding through her begoee she began working the knife against her entangled wrists with her fingertips. Carefully regarding the vicious man for any signs of waking. But her thoughts slid, perhaps, if he caught her, he would be kind. Or would he be angry? She could truly not decide werther which reaction she'd most prefer–

The rope snapped, and exhilaration filled her. Gaze snapping between her free hands and the hunter, imagining her prospects. She stood quietly, holding her skirt tightly around her to keep the fabrics from rustling. Slowly, knife still in hand, she backed away. On careful tiptoed steps she faded into the night, the fire dwindling in the distance.

The darkness made it hard for her to see much of anything, at its height the tree-crowns silhouette were visible against the blue summer sky. Branches moved, leaves swished in the gentle wind. She grew paranoid, head snapping in every direction, reacting to every little noise around–

A branch broke behind her, she jumped, turning around so fast she almost ripped– a Buck. She froze, a god damned buck? She had expected it ro be Arthur, but she seemed to have ogtten the better of him. The animal looked at her, ears twitching as it chewed on grass– suddenly hopping away. She sighed and turned back.

Only to collide with something hard. Her thoughts raced, she knew, she knew. She looked up, eyes tracing along his body until they met his, half hidden under his hat. Reflexes prepared her to run, but before she had as much as taken a step back, a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her back to him. Again, she thumped into his strong chest. Held against him with the familiar iron grip, she fought, as usual; but to no avail, as usual. He snaked an arm around her waist to hinder her from breaking free, yet she kicked and punched violently with her free limbs. But it made no dent in the man. He couldn't even spare her a reaction as he half carried, half dragged her back into the low light of the burnt out fire. He spun her around and pushed her up against the cliff wall, grabbing the wrist closest to him and pinning it above her head. 'I warned you, girl.' He snarled, the look in his eyes doing just as good a of job pinning her to the wall as his hands. He reaches for the second–

When something sharp digs into the soft flesh of his throat, he froze. His chest was the only thing moving between the two of them, heaving breaths of annoyance.

'Thrid times the charm.' She smirked.

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled, 'That so?' His voice mocking, and before she could comprehend what had happened, he'd captured both wrists with one hand and slammed them above her head and into the wall. And the knife had appeared in his free hand, she noticed this because it was now held against her own throat. 'Repeat that for me girl.'

Her lips struck a thin line as she attempted a neutral expression, although fuming on the inside. She shrugged her shoulders, 'No.' Was all she said, but stubborn in tone.

He nodded, looking her up and down, studying the buttons on her blouse. 'Ought to teach you a lesson sweetheart.'

She cleared her throat, deciding that to act nonchalant was her best option. 'Yeah? What ya' gunna do, huh? Ravage me?' She asked half joking, but still hoping there'd be some truth to it.

At this, the corner of his mouth turned up, a wicked grin developing on his lips. 'I just might.' He breathed, tracing the tip of the knife downward, along her collarbone and then along the front of her blouse, coming to a stop at the first button. She gulped, feeling the knife poke through the thin fabric against her chest, making goosebumps run amock in reaction and the pulse reheating in her core. He leaned forward, pushing his body against hers until there was no room left between them, his head hovering just above the crook of her neck. 'May I do with you as I please?'

This was it, the sweet balance between a hardened outlaw and a tender gentleman. 'Yes– yes, Arthur please.' Her voice near a cry, it took everything in her to control her tone–

Her blouse ripped, from top to bottom he cut it open, and she wasn't wearing a brasier. Her chest laid bare before him, and he groaned happily at the sight.

With her go-ahead he wasted no time, he let go of her hands and cut her skirt too. Cutting a slit as far as he reached with the knife then threw it to the side, and the tore the rest. She gasped, every nerve in her body on edge. In an instant, his lips were upon hers. Hungry, hungry lips devouvered her as hands roamed her body, groping and grabbing wherever they got purchase. Her own hands greedily searching for a steady hold in his hair, she grabbed a fistful and pulled gently. He moaned at the feeling, such a beautiful sound. His hands slid over her breasts, squeezing them, then pushed the remains of her blouse off of her shoulders.

Except for her undergarments, she stood completley exposed for him. She could practically feel him salivating when he cupped her clothed mound, and finding her clit with expertise and rub it through the fabric.

She tore herself free from his kisses, she had to breathe. A deep gasp brought oxygen to ger lungs once again, allowing her to whimperand moan in equal measure as he worked her clit. The pressure made her knees week, she wriggled, attempting to rut against his hand. But she was too unsteady to make progress. Noticing her difficulties, his other hand slid behind her back and held her steady. Allowing her to chase her pleasure. And left with no lips to kiss, he latched onto her neck instead, to suck at her sweet spot.

She hummed appreciatively, unable to keep a big smile from her lips as pulses of pleasure washed through her. She slid her hands from his hair and unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers along his strong chest and abdomen, gingerly feeling all of him as her hands worked themselves lower. Finally unbuttoning his pants. She did no longer have to wonder were his happy trail dissapeared too, she bit her lip. He was huge. She stuck her hand into his pants and stroked him eagerly. 'Need ya' Arthur, please.' She panted.

He let out a strained grunt against her shoulder, and his hand left her clit. She whined, but didn't have to stay displeased for long.

Both his hands slid down her sides, and she tried to breathe steadily, but it proved hard. The feeling of his calloused hands on her skin was too heavenly. Suddenly, he lifted her. Pinning her against the cliff wall with his arms and the weight of his body, allowing her to wrap her arms and legs around him. She hadn't known, but he had wordlessly obided her request. He pulled her garments to the side, and line himself up with her entrance. 'Sure about this?' He asked, a final reassurance.

'Yes.' She purred, no hesitation in her answer.

And so he pushed inside her, the sheer size of him was making her want to scream–

'Good girl.' He moaned, and directed his eyes to hers. She repressed a moan, biting her lip hard to hinder it as heat flashed through her. It was two words, yet she could've come undone from them alone, when said by him alone.

He gazed upon her softly, one of his hands left her thigh to gently stroke a strand of hair from her face. She smiled, and so did he. He was just giving her time to adjust, but her heart soared at the simple gesture.

God how could she feel so strongly for a stranger?

Her hands retangled in his hair as Arthur slid out of her, she furrowed her brows– but in a rough, quick thrust. He shoved himself back inside of her, filling her to the brim. He set a cruelly pleasurable, unrelenting pace. Any trace of gentleness gone.

She felt the pressure tightening within her, building snd building until she was on the verge of coming once again. Her hands sunk to his back, clawing and scratching because she did not know what else to do, he was too much, too good, too big. He overstimulated her with his mere prescence. And he knew when her walls tightened around him, adding extra pressure onto his already throbbing member. 'You close girl?' He grunted, his gruff voice breathed against her ear and his hand squeezing her thigh roughly beneath her. God it was sublime.

'Mhm. . . So- close.' She murmurs, her words coming out jagged as her body rocks with Arthurs thrusts. Pushed closer to her release with each thrust, once again, she shut her eyes and spots speckled her eyelids. Breathing turns frantic, she could no longer tell who was who as they mixed, moans and curses spilling from them both.

With a flash of pleasure, searing hot it soured through her, making her whimper uncontrollably. His thrusts slow, holding her securely, caressing her face and kissing her lips as she rides out her high. 'You're alright girl.' He breathes reassuringly, 'Well done Sweetheart.'

Overstimulated tears roll from her eyes, 'Oh Arthur, you sweet, sweet man.' She sighs happily, and he comes a mere second later. His seed filling her and oozing out.

They'd clean themselves tomorrow, since tiredness plagued them currently. He backed away from the wall and she clung to him, desperatley not wanting to part with him.

He carried her back to the tent, this time not bothering to tie her up as they laid down facing eachother. Arthur, grabbed her chin between his index and forefinger. Studying her thuroughly before they finally succumbed to sleep. She could escape if she wanted to, he wouldn't stop her this time. Her plan had worked, they both knew it. But they felt something else too, and they both knew it.

Hooded eyes blinked, blushing at Arthurs intent eyes and searching gaze. Her eyelids weighed down by exhaustion, It'd been a long few days, and before she knew it–

The light dawns, rays of dusty sunlight shone through the flap of their tent as the morning wakes. Bringing warmer tempratures and calm birdsong.

He opens his eyes, and immediately meet hers. She'd just been admiring him. 'Surprised?' She asked, biting her lip and stopping herself from reaching out to touch him.

He smiles, 'Naw, I was hopin' I'd wake up to you girl.'

#arthur murgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 #rdr2 smut #rdr2 arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 smut #rdr2 fanfic #rdr smut #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfic

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (8) - Revelations

Chapter summary: You finally confront Ava, but the conversation takes an unexpected turn.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Innuendo. Mentions of abuse and trauma.

Word count: 5.3k

Series Masterlist

You found him by the edge of a cliff overlooking Baldur's Gate.

The first rays of light began to spill into the morning sky in hues of yellow fused with orange. You would never tire of watching the city you called home being engulfed in such beauty.

“Enjoying the view?”

Astarion was holding a somewhat mellow smile on his lips as he turned to face you.

“I hadn't seen this much colour bathing the city in over two hundred years.”

You stopped next to him, looping an arm around his and resting your face against his shoulder.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”

He sighed. “I do not want to get too attached to it. In case things go awry, that is.”

‘Awry’ meaning that he wouldn't be able to ascend…

It always made your heart clench to think about how much Astarion still held on to that.

But you didn't want to think about such things for now.

For now, you were more than content to share this moment with him.

“The sun looks beautiful on you,” you said truthfully.

It wasn't exactly a challenge, but you adored praising and stroking his ego.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “As most things do, darling."

"That is true.”

He then placed his cold hand atop yours. “As you once did.”

His words hit you with such force that you felt your chest too heavy all of a sudden.

You glanced up at him, meeting his soft crimson eyes. “Astarion…”

Would he ever move on?

Would he ever move on from you?

He offered a defeated smile. “I know, I know. Just friends, right?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He didn't utter another word as he looked on ahead.

You kept your grip around him, enjoying his firmness and how he made you feel so safe and comfortable.

Deep down, you were just thankful he couldn't see the single tear that streamed down your face.

The cold and wet trail brought you back to witness the sight of the sun emerging on the horizon line. 

You pulled your legs up so you could rest your chin on your knees, hugging yourself as the breathtaking view filled your vision.

How you wished you could share this with him like many times before.

As lovers.

As friends.

You wiped the tear away with the back of your hand as sadness spread inside you.

There was no point in dwelling in the impossible. At least until you found a way for him to experience all the colour the world had to offer with no limitations.

Sleep hadn't come to you this night and it wasn't because of nightmares or the fact that Astarion had left you painfully yearning for his touch.

Your mind was just all over the place, trying to make sense of how things felt with him after that conversation.

Truth be told, you were more than happy with the occasional intimacy and giving him space.

But his taunting words still lingered in your mind.

You were certain he craved more than a friendship, but how much of that spread beyond carnal lust was something you weren't sure about.

Maybe even Astarion didn't know.

As much as you longed for more, you still wanted to mend your friendship first and bridge the distance that had come between you two. 

As you pushed yourself from the bed and slipped into your robe, you took a quick glance at the mirror in front of you.

Eyes puffy and reddened paired with deep eyebags.

Wonderful.

You heaved a deep sigh as you exited the room, heading towards the kitchen area to brew some tea.

The door to his room was firmly shut and you hurried past it with bare feet.

The entire house was still swallowed in silence and darkness.

You quickly lit up a few candles before reigniting the fireplace and putting the kettle on.

The familiar squeak of the door to his room filled your ears.

As the water came to a boil, you poured a few herbs inside the cup as you poured the scalding liquid.

You heard him call out your name and your stomach immediately fluttered as he came into view, slowly pacing towards you.

“How did you know it was me?”

Astarion's lips curled into a smile. “I know the sound of your footsteps by heart.”

There was no trace of deceit in his remark.

His voice rang true and not as a mere attempt at flustering you with honeyed words.

He meant it and you felt the warm embrace of his presence tightly enveloping you.

Astarion had learned the way to your heart like no one else had ever tried to. 

He could crawl under your skin and have you yearn for him like no one else could.

And he did all of this effortlessly and like second nature.

You returned a warm smile, feeling the addictive embrace of his presence.

He felt like the home you longed to come back to.

As you moved to sit on the sofa nearby, enjoying the warmth that radiated from the cup in your hands, he eventually sat next to you, crimson eyes meeting yours and, for a moment, you held your breath.

He was your home.

“You look horrible.”

A snarky one.

You chuckled at his bluntness, taking a sip. “Didn't get much sleep.”

“Nightmares again?”

“No. My mind was just busy…”

He slowly nodded. “Was it too much? What we did?”

You glared at him in surprise. “What? No. What about you?”

His eyes narrowed. “I wanted more.”

“That doesn't answer my question.”

He crossed his legs, adjusting his elegant shirt. “It wasn't nearly enough.”

“You were the one to stop it…”

“Because I had to. Gods know how long it took to… calm down, so to speak.”

The implication that dangled from his words wasn't particularly subtle.

Oh.

Oh.

Your cheeks flared up. “I… didn't hear you…”

Astarion flashed a teasing smile. “I know how to avoid being heard, unlike a certain someone.”

Bad timing had you nearly choking on your tea.

“Careful, darling. You'll get all wet… again.”

The nerve!

You shot him murderous glare, wiping your chin.

Then the two fell into a comfortable silence.

You melted into the backrest of the sofa, cradling the cup in your hands, humming a tune that you had almost forgotten about.

“I find myself missing our journey, you know?” he said after a while.

“Even having to play the hero?”

He tapped his chin pensively. “Even that, as surprising as it sounds. I could have done without all your ridiculous acts of heroism, but I grew to enjoy indulging in some of them.”

Your heart thudded happily at his honesty.

“Who would have thought that you’d find joy in being selfless,” you teased with a smile.

He lifted one finger. “Do not misunderstand. I still come first. I spent too many centuries not being able to and I won't give that up now.”

You nodded, fully understanding his line of thinking.

In the meantime, your hand had dropped in between you two and you felt coldness reach your fingers.

You looked down, startled, only to be met with his fingers gently brushing against yours.

And just like clockwork, your heart sped up.

Astarion had his eyes fixed on the swirling flames that emanated from the fireplace.

Little by little, his fingers began to intertwine with yours until his hand gripped you tightly.

Your mind blanked for a moment at how unexpected this was.

In time, his cold skin began to warm up against yours.

And then it dawned on you that he had never held your hand this way.

He had helped you up on your feet more times than you could count.

He had gripped your hand in his as both of you hurried along collapsing halls and while being chased by the most vicious of creatures.

But he had never held your hand as if seeking for silent comfort.

You shifted so you could rest your head on his shoulder.

He tensed slightly under your touch, but eventually relaxed and you seized the opportunity to melt into his side, enjoying the familiar scent of bergamot and rosemary.

Home.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but the tear in your cup had gone tepid and you began to feel guilty.

You had considered not telling him about confronting Ava.

But you didn't want to lie and hide anything from him, especially if it concerned him in the first place.

You pulled slightly away from him and he met your gaze.

“I'm going to meet Ava tonight.”

You expected an angry outburst of indignation from him, but were met with an inquisitive glare instead.

“Why doesn't that surprise me at all?”

That was it?

“Wait… you are not going to talk me out of it?”

At this, he faintly chuckled, still firmly gripping your hand in his.

“Honestly, darling, when has that ever worked?”

Point taken.

He knew of your stubbornness all too well.

“Besides, do you intend on killing her?”

You widened your eyes. “I – no? I don't think so?”

Though you couldn't swear on this until you were actually absolutely sure she was as harmless as he claimed her to be.

“Then, you have my blessing.”

You then narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. “You don't even want to go with me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“It's not necessary.”

He shrugged. “Then I won't.”

Astarion was acting uncharacteristically accepting of your intrusion, and that rang a plethora of alarm bells in your head.

It was as if he knew you'd have no reason to harm her.

“Why are you so… calm about this?”

His eyes met yours. “I am well aware you can turn Ava into a pile of dust should she cross your path. But I don't believe you will do such a thing.”

“Why not? I don't trust her.”

His grip around your fingers eased slightly. “I don't expect you to, but you do trust me, don't you?”

“Yes.”

You didn't hesitate for a second. After all, you had trusted Astarion through things that most people would have staked him for. The two of you were way past the uncertainty of not trusting each other's intentions.

It was more evident that the glaring issue that plagued your relationship was rooted in miscommunication and not mistrust.

“And I trust her.”

That ground on your nerves. “But why?”

“Because I have to.”

You immediately dropped his hand, turning in your seat to fully face him, already feeling the familiar irritation that came with him not being fully open with you at times.

“Astarion, you need to start telling me why you hold her in such high regards,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You can also trust me. Whatever it is… just tell me.”

He glared at you with a faint scowl. “She is taking my blood with the intention of lessening some vampirism weaknesses.”

Oh?

“Such as?”

“Well, the insatiable hunger is the main focus.”

You stared at him in silence, not quite sure what to make of this.

The Wish Spell could grant him the ability to walk in the sun again, but this seemed even more ambitious.

And dangerous.

“Obviously, this is all rather theoretical, but it seemed like a sound prospect,” he went on, sinking into the sofa with an exasperated sigh. “As selfish as I am, I also considered how this could be helpful to the spawn in the Underdark.”

His words took you quite aback.

“This… seems too good to be true,” you said hesitantly.

“Oh, I'm aware. That is why I am keeping my expectations in check.”

You really, really wanted to hate Ava.

But if her motifs were truly this altruistic, then you were going to have a hard justifying that feeling, which provided another added layer of anger altogether.

“So, if you want to talk to her, you are free to do so. Seeing is believing or so they say,” he said with a witty grin.

You sighed.

Astarion was a bad planner.

No. He was a terrible planner.

He could identify the end goal, but would have no clue how to get there and would merely make adjustments as he went along, hoping for the best.

Luck had been on his side as of late, but you lacked that optimism.

And he obviously saw that splattered across your face.

“Oh, please. I know that look – just say it,” he scoffed.

You weren't even sure what you wanted to say.

Deep down, you felt extremely protective of him and didn't appreciate that she was exchanging lessons in intimacy for his blood.

It all seemed very one-sided and the promise of also helping him – and by extension, the spawn in the underdark – still seemed unrealistically… convenient.

“Are you even sure any of this will work? Has she made any progress with your blood?”

“Some progress. Not enough to keep me too hopeful, but I will take anything these days.”

You could sympathise with the sentiment, but…

“I still think there is something off about her.”

Astarion just looked as amused as ever. “No jealousy?”

You rolled your eyes. “No.”

“Well, she would have nothing to gain from sending us both to prison,” he said. “She knows I exclusively feed on you and that I do need to feed regularly.”

The nonchalant way in which he uttered those words, brought a wave of heat to your face, as the events from a few hours earlier resurfaced in your mind.

There was a hint of intimacy in the act itself, but also in the aftermath. Astarion's senses would be sharpened as your blood coursed through his body.

“Seems like I broke your concentration, darling,” he said teasingly, effectively snapping you from your thoughts.

You jolted briefly and then scowled, annoyed that he could see right through you so easily.

“Don't flatter yourself.”

He gave you a devious smile. “I don't have to. Not when your body provides the finest flattery there is.”

Gods.

You wished you could turn off the effect his honeyed words always had on you.

Clearing your throat, you straightened up in your seat. “Very well, then. I am willing to be enlightened.”

A teasing smile tugged faintly at his lips. “Good girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Regaining your composure, you said, “Wyll is going there with me tonight.”

Astarion drew a sleazy grin this time. “Oh, so that was what the two of you were plotting yesterday.”

You rolled your eyes.

“And here I thought sweet Wyll had finally mustered the courage to take you out on a lavish date,” he said with a dramatic and forceful pout. “Seems like romance is dead, after all.”

For some odd reason, Astarion was under the impression that Wyll harboured feelings for you that surpassed friendship.

But what Astarion didn't know was that your heart was too full of him to allow room for anyone else.

His taunting words created the perfect opening for you to return the gesture.

“No jealousy?”

His smile only grew wider. “Do you want me to be jealous?”

You were entering his territory, and should tread lightly. 

“Maybe you should be jealous,” you whispered.

He shifted closer to you and you held your breath.

“And why is that? Why should I be jealous of your friendship with him?”

Gods, he was good .

Your heart drummed faster in your chest as his face drew near.

He was a master at disarming you with carefully laid out traps whilst using his words as alluring bait.

“He's very… friendly.”

You inwardly cringed at your ridiculous remark, which earned a chuckle from Astarion.

At this point, he was so close you almost feel his cool lips on yours.

“Well, hopefully not this friendly.”

That was it.

He was going to kiss you and you couldn't give a damn about it.

But before he could do so, the faint rhythmic thud of footsteps pulled you out of immersion, and the two of you pulled apart at once.

Lae'zel.

She reached the bottom of the staircase, eyeing both of you like she had just run into the most disappointing event of her life.

“The sun has yet to fully rise, and the two of you are already at it again,” she said with a scowl. “Wasn't the coupling from last night enough?”

Your jaw dropped open in sheer mortification.

Surely she hadn't… heard anything… right?

“Where is your sense of decorum, Lae'zel?” Astarion clicked his tongue, leaning back against the sofa once more.

She gave him a stern glare. “You wouldn't know decorum if it hit you in that pale face of yours, Astarion.”

He chuckled. “My, my… someone is feisty today.”

“The sounds you two made could raise the dead from their graves,” she said, moving swiftly towards the front door with her sword keeping her company. “I am not sure how much more of this torture I can take.”

You stood up at once, feeling embarrassment take over. “Oh! We… uh… Astarion was just feeding and–”

She held a hand up. “Spare me the grotesque details. I'll be going out on a hunt. Don't expect me for lunch.”

And without a further exchange, she slipped through the door.

Astarion was now on his feet and heading towards the staircase.

Somehow, you couldn't help but feel a tad of disappointment as he left your side.

His company was something you reckoned you'd never tire from.

“See you later, darling. And do fix that lovely face of yours,” he teased dramatically. “Rose water works like a charm.”

And you couldn't hold back an endearing smile.

The night came quicker than you had hoped.

Confronting Ava made you feel truly uneasy, especially after learning some more about her.

As promised, Wyll had come to you, escorted by two Fists. The mage slayer stationed outside, quickly joined the four of you, and you felt the magic within you dip dangerously low from her presence.

The journey to The Blushing Mermaid proved to be rather uneventful and you were more than thankful for it.

“Does Astarion know about this?”

You nodded. “He has also told me the reason why she's taking his blood.”

Wyll's eyes met yours and you could see the tension on his face. “Whatever could be the reason?”

Fortunately, the two Fists walked far behind the two of you to preserve some privacy.

“She wants to lessen the effects of vampiric hunger.”

He arched an eyebrow and you approached the familiar tavern.

“That sounds too convenient .”

You almost pulled Wyll into a kiss as he unknowingly validated your concerns.

“Exactly. Maybe I am overthinking it, but I need to make sure nonetheless.”

He nodded firmly.

Those crowding the entrance immediately made way for you to walk inside, and you heard a few salutes as others inside bowed to Wyll.

Bork approached the counter with a tilted smile on his face. “Duke of Ravengard. To what do we owe the pleasure? Hope we are not in trouble?”

A few drunkards nearby erupted in laughter.

“Unless you have indeed done something unlawful, I wouldn't worry too much, Bork.”

He offered Wyll a forced smile, which he didn't return.

“We are looking for Ava,” you chimed in impatiently.

His face instantly dropped. “Ava? Is she in trouble?"

Honestly, what was with everyone and this woman? Was she some goddess in disguise?

“We just wish to talk to her,” Wyll answered.

Bork hesitated at first, but glared at the two Fists flanking you. “First floor. Third room to your left.”

You nodded and swiftly made your way upstairs, feeling your heart hammering fast in your chest as you paced along the corridor.

Wyll knocked thrice on the large door.

It swung open almost immediately, and Ava came into view, holding a knowing smile.

“I was expecting you.”

A swirl of nausea settled in your stomach.

She extended one hand, standing to the side so you could walk in.

“As pleased as I am to be visited by our Duke, I shall ask for you not to enter.”

You immediately turned to see Wyll scowl deeply. “Tonight I'm no Duke – I'm her friend and you shall let me enter.”

Ava tapped on the door lightly. “These are my quarters, and unless I am being charged with wrongdoing, I have the right to decide who to invite inside, Duke .”

The two Fists were gripping the handle of their swords, ready to draw them.

Wyll motioned for the to be at ease and turned his head to you. “I will be waiting outside.”

Ava wiggled her fingers dismissively, further gnawing at your nerves.

“Do not try anything witty, hunter,” Wyll said in a tone you hadn't heard since he last faced Mizora.

She chuckled. “I have abandoned those ways. You may simply call me Ava.”

But before he could reply, she pushed the door closed in one swing and glanced at you with an excessively sweet smile.

“So? I don't believe you came all the way here to simply gawk at me.”

You cleared your throat. “I have a few things I need to discuss with you.”

“Of course. I would be surprised if you didn't.”

Your patience was running thin.

“It concerns Astarion.”

“Still not surprised,” she said with a tilted smile. “I'm all ears.”

“He's told me about you.”

“Hopefully not everything, but do go on.”

She moved to a table and poured a red liquid into a goblet. “Can I tempt you with some red wine?”

You scowled and she laughed. “It is not poisoned, though I do understand your hesitation.” She then took a long sip.

Glancing around the room, you realised it could easily pass off as the inside of an apothecary store. There were endless rows of shelves and cupboards that housed countless vials of glass with suspicious content.

There was a small fire burning by the window with a large flask set right above, the flames barely reaching the bottom as a deep dark red liquid gurgled.

Ava sat on a lavish armchair, holding the goblet to her lips.

“I know you're taking his blood for some experiment in regards to vampirism,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Even to supposedly help the vampire spawn in the Underdark.”

Her pleasant face wavered momentarily. “He's offering it to me. Freely.”

“You are taking advantage of him.”

“I am not taking advantage of anything. It's a mere transaction that we have both agreed upon.”

“Blood for intimacy?”

“That seems rather… crass.”

“You are taking advantage of his… wounds…”

“Why are you so hellsbent on accusing me of being the one taking advantage of him? He also has much to win from this arrangement.”

“Because you have the upper hand here. The price for a chance at healing from his wounds seems rather unbalanced,” you said, feeling heat flare throughout your entire body. “You get his blood, which is a sure thing, and he gets a ‘perhaps’ on all fronts: intimacy and that hunger “cure” you're promising.”

Ava glared at you with eyes slightly narrowed, chin resting on the back of her hand.

“There are wounds that take time to heal. Some never heal at all, my dear.”

“I'm aware.”

“Are you? Are you, really?” Ava said with a scoff. “I am not the enemy here. Your vitriol against me is rooted in something primal.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Primal?”

“Is it jealousy, I wonder?”

You clenched your fists. “It is not. Whatever bond you think you share with him is superficial and frail. There's nothing to be jealous of.”

“Actually, I do believe your words… it is not jealousy, indeed,” she said, tapping a long nail on her chin. “But rather… protectiveness.”

You remained silent.

“I dare say that protectiveness can blind even the wisest.”

“I am not blinded. I can see there is something unsettling about you.”

“You look, but you do not see,” she said as she took a sip of her wine. “Your attachment to him is your weakness.”

“Caring for others isn't a weakness.”

“You taught him that, did you?”

The faint mockery wasn't lost on you, and it made your nails dig further into your palms, regning in your temper as best as you could.

“He doesn't need to be taught anything. Astarion may need some guidance, as we all do from time to time.”

Ava merely chuckled. “May I see your neck?”

What?

Her words caught you off guard, but you did not move an inch to comply with her request.

“Ah… your reluctance is answer enough,” she tutted. “He has fed on you recently, hasn't he?”

Now, that immediately had your stomach turn in revulsion, realising just how transparent she truly was.

“So this is what it's all about – you just want him to feed on you instead.”

Ava rolled her eyes with a forced yawn. “On the contrary. Of course, I have vaguely wondered what it feels like, but Astarion is far too devoted to your blood to even entertain the idea.”

“Then why did you complain to me about him not feeding on you?”

She crossed her legs elegantly under her emerald green dress. “I was merely taunting you. Again, his devotion gets in the way.”

“I wouldn't necessarily call it ‘devotion’.”

“Oh, but I would. See, Astarion's bond to you is exquisite and much welcome… to say the least.”

Her flowery words were really testing your patience now.

“Elaborate.”

“The last time he fed on you and gave me his blood was right when you left The Blushing Mermaid. A few days later, I tried his blood on some spawn in the city outskirts that have taken to living underground in search of a cure.” She paused briefly to take yet another sip from the goblet. “The results were vastly different from my previous experiments.”

“Can you just get straight to the point for once?”

“Oh, you really are a feisty one…” Ava said with a teasing smile. “As I was saying, the results were rather interesting and unexpected. The spawn reported feeling sated much quicker than before, but the effect wore off in the first hour, which was a disappointment.”

You froze instantly. “You're… using my blood?”

“Well, yes… and no,” she said in a casual tone. “Your blood mixed with his, that is. Before that day, I had never tried his blood after he fed on you.”

You felt as though you might be sick as your stomach lurched violently.

“This is… I – does he know?”

“Well, I haven't been given the chance, considering how the two of you got thrown into prison,” she said with a shrug. “And I am fully aware you think I am somehow responsible for it.”

You were still so taken aback by her earlier revelation, that you had momentarily forgotten about that detail.

“Now, what would I gain from setting you two up, especially after I just told you this.”

She did have a point.

Seemingly.

“You mentioned other spawn – why not use their blood instead? Why his?”

“Oh, darling… ” 

The way that word rolled out of her tongue grated on your nerves, and you realised only one person could masterfully use it without provoking a visceral reaction.

“Astarion isn't really your regular spawn, is he? Even when he was under Cazador Szarr's influence, he would still rebel against his commands while his siblings cowered in fear of defying their master.”

An overwhelming sense of dread took over at once.

Astarion has revealed how Cazador had kept him buried alive for a whole year as punishment for letting a potential victim go.

He had clawed his hands raw from despair as he wished for death to just take him.

Even remembering this vaguely, made your heart hurt for him.

“How do you know that?”

Ava rose to her full height, brushing her long and dark curls from her shoulders.

She paced towards a desk and began ruffling through pieces of parchment.

“I was a monster hunter for over twenty years and my group kept a close eye on Cazador and his spawn,” she said, not lifting her eyes. “Astarion had been on our radar for a while, but he was quite experienced in slipping through the cracks whenever we tried to go after him.”

You swallowed.

“Imagine our surprise when he suddenly goes missing. My partners were dumbfounded beyond belief. No vampire spawn is able to resist the compell of their master for that long.”

She then moved back to the armchair, flipping through a couple of scrolls.

“We thought he had met his demise somehow, so imagine my surprise when I find out that he's back in Baldur's Gate. Walking in the sunlight and next to… you.”

You weren't sure where this conversation was headed and you weren't sure you wanted to know.

Ava took your silence as encouragement. “Cazador was attempting to become the Vampire Ascendant and we were set on stopping him, but were instead met with his manor bathed in blood and corpses littering the place.”

So they had gotten there after your group stopped the ritual and prevented the rite from taking place.

“So now you're suddenly an alchemist who wants to help vampire spawn? Why the change of heart?”

Ava met your eyes and her face was void of any amusement. “Astarion and I connect in more ways than you think.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms and waiting to hear some circus clown reasoning.

“I wasn't a monster hunter by choice,” she said sternly. “I was born into it and molded into their ways.”

Your defensive demeanour wavered momentarily.

“I shall not go into details, but all you need to know is that once Cazador Szarr was gone, I was driven by curiosity and sought Astarion out so I could learn more about what makes him so different from all the other spawn I've come across.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “So you just left your group? Just like that?”

She snickered. “They were killed.”

“What? By whom?”

She snickered as she took another sip. “By me.”

You were left speechless.

“I thought that if a vampire spawn could break the chains from his master and embrace freedom again, so could I.”

She let out a chuckle, emptying the goblet in one sip.

“So, I offered to help him as he's helped me. No more, no less.”

You really wanted to hate her.

You wanted her to give you a solid reason to be suspicious of her intentions.

But…

“So you genuinely care for him?”

She nodded. “I do. And if Astarion were to walk through that door and ask for us to part ways, I would accept it. It would essentially kill my research until I found someone remotely adequate, but I would make peace with it.”

This conversation had not taken the turn you expected.

At all.

“I can see the confusion in your eyes. You truly believed I am out to get you when I'm probably your best option right now.”

“Best option? In regards to what?”

She extended her arm towards a chair in front of her. “Take a seat.”

You did so, reluctantly, never letting your guard down and her out of your sight.

“Cazador Szarr had many enemies, but he also had many allies. People who were not pleased with his death.”

She now had your undivided attention and you felt your palms sweat.

There wad actually someone going after you? After Astarion?

“I have ways to find who they are.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” you immediately asked, feeling rather unsettled by her words.

She clicked her tongue. “I need assurances first, and I have a proposition to make.”

You saw the flash of a knife emerging from her sleeve and a tall glass container being placed on the table by her side.

TBC

Ao3

Series Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Four

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warning: Fluff and violence

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Azriel didn’t have any reason to show up on your doorstep the next day, but he still flew through the pouring rain and waited patiently for you to answer.

“Hi.” You said, breathlessly.

“Hi.” He answered, dripping water onto the doormat.

Azriel filled up too much space in your apartment, but maybe that was just the constriction of your thumping heart. Az smelled like fresh rain and cedar. Your mother had once taken you to the mountains on the western coast. Citrus fruits sticky and tart in your palms as you sat by the edge of the cliffs and tasted the salt water in the air. It made sense that Azriel should smell like one of your best memories.

“I wanted to give you these.” Azriel said once he’d stepped inside, a quick spell of yours drying the rain off his clothes. Cradled beneath his arms were a bouquet of yellow flowers and a box of pastries from your favorite bakery down the street. The box was soft and supple, but he’d shielded them from the worst of the rain.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” 

He cocked his head to the side, “Does there need to be an occasion? I thought you might like them.” 

Liar. He knew you liked them. He was the Shadowsinger after all and the first thing he’d done this morning was track down Cherp.

“Well… no,” You said, gingerly accepting both packages from him. Shadows darted out from his gloved hands, slinking up your arms like living jewelry, cool and comforting. “No, I suppose there doesn’t need to be an occasion.” 

“Think of it as a thank you gift. For everything you've done for my family.” 

You blushed, “That was really nothing.” 

“Rhys and Feyre would disagree. I would disagree. And if Rhys were here he’d probably offer you a dress made of diamonds as a gift instead.”

You blinked, “That seems excessive.”

“That’s Rhys.”

“Then I will consider myself lucky that you’re here instead.” 

Azriel seemed pleased with that answer, dipping his head in a subtle bow. 

He started off at the kitchen counter, pouring himself a cup of tea as you snipped the flowers and arranged them in a vase. But soon he was drifting around the room, setting your heart alight whenever his fingers would graze the mantle, linger on the pages of an open book, or brush your handwritten notes. It all felt too intimate. The way he could make your breath catch in your throat with every rustle of his wings, the soft sigh of leather as he bent over to look at your scribbled handwriting and smiled. He may as well have grabbed you by the waist and kissed you breathless. Not that you were thinking about kissing him...

You hovered by the kitchen, then moved as close to him as you dared, close enough that Azriel could smell the orange icing that clung to your lips and fingertips. He wanted to taste you.

He shook his head, moving aside and pointing to the newest of your notes. He read, “Immunity - the innate biological process of recognizing and protecting against foreign entities - is a phenomenon that can be extended and applied to magic. From mating bonds to daemati powers to shielding, everything related to magic can be made analogous to the function of a biological immune system.” 

He gave you a look - a silent act of permission to continue reading to himself. And before you could think it through, you were nodding. 

Azriel took up a spot on your couch, wings cramped against the velvet backing and long legs bumping into the coffee table. You wordlessly moved the furniture and started to pace the floor, busying yourself with the theatrics of organizing notes when you were really keeping an eye on him.

He had a careful look of concentration on his face, lips silently forming the words as his eyes raked over the pages.

You’d presented it to Cherps last summer, and as kind and forgiving as he could be when it came to intellectual exploration, he’d told you flat out that the manuscript was a waste of time. 

It was a review paper in its earliest stages, stringing together the connections between different forms of magic and basic biological processes - namely the immune system. The greatest force working against you was the simple fact that fae didn’t concern themselves with such things. Sickness was an inconvenience at worst, nonexistent at best, and any possible fears were quickly wiped out in the face of immortality. 

But humans were a different story. Their time on this earth was short and precious. Their weaknesses made them curious, fueled by a desperation for more time - more health - that fae held in spades. 

It fascinated you to no end. And after the war against Hybern you’d gotten your hands on some manuscripts from the Human Lands and the Continent.

The concept of white blood cells searching through blood for foreign pathogens didn’t seem so far off from spells designed to unearth enemies hidden on a battlefield. The power wielded by daemati analogous to some virus able to hijack existing cellular machinery for its own purpose. You’d even heard of a blacksmith in the Dawn Court capable of imbuing her magical signature into weapons so that only she would be able to wield them. What better example of immune system magic was there? 

Your heart hammered in your chest as Azriel continued to flip through the pages. Long, nimble fingers fluttering along the edges of the pieced together manuscript. His shadows curled around the paper like curious children.

Perhaps it was a mistake showing it to him. It was a rather weak and pathetic argument anyhow. You’d be ridiculed for presenting your ideas at any respectable meeting of the-

“Brilliant.” Azriel breathed. 

You snapped your head up in shock.

He looked at you, something like awe in his eyes. “You’re brilliant.” Gloved fingers flipped through the pages once more, marveling.

“It’s not finished yet.” You admitted, wringing your hands together, “It’s barely even begun, and I’d have to fight tooth and nail to get it published. If I ever managed to get it published.” You muttered the last part beneath your breath.

“Why wouldn’t they want to read it? You present a convincing case.” 

You tipped your hair to the side, as if the answer was obvious, “Fae don’t like bringing humans into the conversation. They think the work they accomplish is beneath any respectable Librarian. Unworthy of study.”

Az chuckled, “My High Lady would probably say otherwise.” 

The High Lady was a curious case - a human soul housed in one of the strongest bodies Prythian had ever known. 

“I’m sure.” You said, excited that you had found someone who approved of your ideas for once, “It sounds contradictory, but I believe we could learn more about magic by studying humans.” You were standing now, pacing in front of Az. 

He’d managed to crack some forgotten dam inside of you and words began pouring out.

“I have another hypothesis that spell-cleaving comes from the very specific ability to identify and imitate the magical signatures of others. I mean, just imagine! If you could change your magical signature to match that of another fae, any spell crafted, any barrier built-” You made a motion with your hands, “Pff! Useless. You can’t keep yourself out in a spell. Or you can try to at least, but any respectable fae would leave a backdoor for themselves in case something went wrong-” 

You rambled on - the biology of immunization and its function in the last war, the Dawn Court artificer, Helion and Feyre’s powers - before finishing with, “I suspect my own powers have something to do with it.”

“What are your powers?” Azriel asked curiously. He leaned forward ever so slightly. “Aside from being brilliant, of course.” 

You blinked in surprise. You hadn’t meant to say that. You’d meant to keep it in your mind, quiet and hidden. You swallowed thickly, picking at bitten fingernails. 

Azriel swore internally upon seeing the way you flinched, “You don’t… you don’t need to tell me. I’m sorry I-.” 

“No! No. I-'' 

He stared at you openly. Or at least as openly as a person like him could. There was a softness to his eyes you suspected didn't come naturally to him, like he was trying very very hard to convince you to trust him... And it was working. 

His hazel eyes were a swirl of gold touched by the first kisses of Autumn. 

“Can you… can you promise not to tell anyone? Truly promise.” 

He stilled - the very picture of seriousness. Even his shadows seemed to stiffen in the air and become less translucent, “I swear on my life, Y/n. I won’t tell a soul.” 

And you knew he wouldn’t. You could feel his honesty in the air, as if something was tugging at your chest and gingerly pulling you open. 

You swayed gently, fingers crunching your linen skirts. 

“I’m a Clairvoyant.” You admitted, as if it was a shameful thing, “I can touch things - people, objects - and gain knowledge from them. Usually it’s memories or emotions or something else I can’t quite describe.” The scattered books were beginning to make more sense to the Shadowsinger. You pointed to them with open hands, “It’s useful for work… overwhelming when it comes to everything else. Especially after the war with what everyone went through.”

You hesitated. You waited for him to say what you’d been told your entire life: It’s an incredible power. You should be so proud. The Mother has blessed you with this gift. You’re special Y/n.

But Azriel only looked down to your tightly clasped hands, and then to his own.

“That must be quite a burden. To be exposed to all of that.” 

Your eyes snapped up to him as he quietly tugged at his gloves.

“It is.” You murmured beneath your breath, feeling tears begin to prick at your eyes. 

Azriel’s heart clenched in his chest.

“Is that why you won’t touch anyone? Why you ran away from the party?” 

Why you ran away from me that night? 

You nodded guiltily.

Azriel sighed, eyes closing in relief. All this time he’d been terrified that you hated him, thinking that you’d seen him for what he truly was - a monster. 

“It was nothing to do with you.” You said quickly, leaning closer. 

Your hands shot out towards him before freezing midway. You wanted to touch him. You wanted to hold his hands. You felt him tugging at the edges of your heart, like a curious hand pulling at fraying threads. You’d known him less than a week and already you’d spoken more with him than anyone else in the past year. Spent more time with him. Shared your secrets with all the recklessness of young love. What were you thinking? 

You pulled away, lips tightening into a flat, angry line. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. You hadn’t asked for this power, even though others never failed to envy you for it. It was a terrible gift that you couldn’t return when the real thing you wanted was the simple joy of holding Azriel’s hand. 

But that wouldn’t be fair to him either. 

He was a Shadowsinger - a Spymaster to be exact - filled with enough secrets to break the world three times over. To touch him… to kiss him, would be the worst invasion of privacy. Even if you didn’t intend for it to happen. 

Azriel finally spoke and his voice filled the silence with a music you wanted to hear more of, “Being a Shadowsinger… It's not easy. I’ve had plenty of people tell me I should be grateful for it. Grateful for my power and the prestige it's brought me. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it was worth the cost.” You stared at him, eyes so wide he swore they could swallow him whole, “I understand, Y/n. I know it’s not exactly the same… but I understand.”

“Do you think you’d be happier, Azriel, if you hadn’t been born a Shadowsinger?” 

He shrugged, “I don’t think that’s the way it works, Y/n.” 

“No… no I suppose you’re right about that.” You murmured, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He gently nudged the coffee table and it lightly tapped your shins. 

“It’s not all bad.” You raised your eyebrows, urging him to continue, “If I wasn’t a Shadowsinger, I wouldn’t have met you.” 

You chuckled, a stray tear slipping out and dripping onto the rug. You brushed the rest of the moisture away.

“Maybe you would have. Maybe you would have come to the Day Court to study.” Azriel snorted. The sun would sooner rise in the west and set in the east before anyone called Azriel an academic. “Maybe we would have gotten into arguments about research and books.”

“About the historical accuracy of chicken eggs?”

“About the anatomical considerations of having sex with a dragon-born.” You clarified. “Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Azriel said, smiling. 

He’d never been born for the quiet life. Shadowsinger or not, he was a warrior through and through. But looking around at the plush sofa and the faelights flooding in from the athenaeum, he couldn’t help but imagine what kinds of peace you’d bring into his life if he ever mustered up the courage to tell you the truth.

You’re my mate.

You’re my mate.

You’re my mate.

The words kept rattling around in his mind as the pair of you spent the day holed up in your apartment. 

It was a comfortable haze. You didn’t ask why he lingered, although he felt your burning curiosity through the bond, and he never offered you an explanation. The truth was, no matter his reason for sitting on the couch reading his own sensitive reports, you liked his company… and you wanted him to stay. He saw it in the way your eyes always latched onto him when he stood up, only relaxing when he settled back down. 

It was a comforting pain to know that you wanted him, even if you didn’t know why and even if he was too much of a coward to do anything about it. 

He didn’t eat, politely declining every stubborn offer of yours until you finally gave up. He wouldn’t be accepting any food from you from here on out. It wasn’t until you made the mistake of yawning from your spot on the floor, papers radiating out from you like a sunburst, that he made any effort to leave. 

He looked towards the window. Long, sharp shadows crept along the floor and mingled with his own.

Fuck. He promised Rhys he’d be back by mid-afternoon. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay so long.” He stood up, wings stretching out so you could see every ripple of muscle, every inky vein that ran through the thin membrane like offshoots from a river.

You scrambled to your feet, pressing an open book to your chest like that would stop your pounding heart. Time had passed too quickly.

“There’s no need to apologize. I-I liked your company. I like your company. Present tense.” You sighed without thinking, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone around.” 

Cruel, malicious voices rang in Azriel’s mind. They sounded like his half-brothers and the asshole he was unfortunate enough to call a father. 

Don’t do it. You’ll ruin this. You’ll ruin this like you ruin everything. 

Look at this place. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong with her. You’ll never be worthy of-

“May I come see you tomorrow then?” Azriel’s words were loud, laced with hope. “I’ll bring breakfast.” He said, quieter this time. 

You blushed and tried to sound nonchalant when you answered, “I would like that.” 

With the promise of another day hanging in the air, that tight coil in your chest loosened, even as Azriel bowed his head and stepped outside. You gasped when he unfurled his wings, the faint glow of the street lights shining through the membrane. 

There were few things Azriel loved about himself, but his wings? His wings were his pride and joy. The one beauty he felt he possessed. So when he saw the awe in your gaze, he took off a little harder than usual, delight shooting through his heart when he turned around to see you laughing and brushing the hair from your eyes. 

You watched him and he watched you as he climbed higher and higher into the sky before fading into nothing.

There were three books you treasured above all else: The Natural Trials and Tribulations of Leonora Bedroot, Three Knocks for A Kiss, and A Touch of Cinnamon. They’d been your mother’s favorite novels - comforting, slice of life books that promised a happy ending no matter the sorrows that came before. Dog-eared, finger-print stained, and loved beyond measure, your mother had read them to you over and over and over again. Her notes were still scrawled in the margins, her joy still pressed between the pages like preserved flowers. 

Being a Clairvoyant meant you could tap into the essence of objects, and objects held memories and emotions just as readily as people. When you thrummed your fingers over the clothbound books you got flashes of your mother. Flashes of her scent. Flashes of her affection for you. 

You relied on that familiar comfort as you sat by the window and watched the sky. Every swirl in the clouds looked like Azriel to you. As if he’d swoop down from the heavens and burst through your door so you could wrap your mind around that scent of rainfall and cedar.

You buried your face in your knees and cried out in frustration. You’d wanted to crawl into his lap the entire day. To feel the warmth of his wings wrapped around you like a blanket. 

Stupid stupid stupid. 

You knocked your head against the worn leather-bound books. One look at his windswept hair and faint smile this morning and you’d been lost. 

What would your mother say? Three days and you were already drunk on him. Were flowers, sweet treats, and a modicum of undivided attention all it took for you to fall for someone? 

But it wasn’t just a bouquet of flowers - they were daisies picked from the florist down the street with the lilac doorway and hand-painted cards. It wasn’t just a box of pastries - they were from your favorite bakery with the orange icing so heavenly that for years you’d ignored cake on your birthday in favor of them. 

Such detail required more than a modicum of attention. If you were right, Azriel would have needed to fly around the city inquiring after you and your mother to gain such information. 

But why would he do that? Why would he bother? 

The window was cool against your skin, whisking away the heat that had gathered in your cheeks after hours of thinking about the Shadowsinger. 

It was a quiet night, as most nights were in the Day Court, and aside from the three Librarians who had entered The Alcove for a late night of reading, you hadn’t seen a soul. The streets were as still as a painting. 

Someone drunkenly staggered out of The Alcove.

Meryl. The Alcove’s Bookkeeper. 

You frowned in distaste. 

Meryl was a middling Librarian at best, although he was skilled enough at the sword to have been selected for Bookkeeper training. Standing easily over six-feet tall with the strong legs of a bison and horns to match, he’d chosen the simple life presiding over The Alcove where he could drink and fuck to his heart’s desire. After all, who would care enough to attack an athenaeum dedicated to boring fiction?

Meryl clopped forward another three feet, one hand pressed to his throat. His red-trimmed robes swayed in the breeze. But his robes weren’t meant to be that red. 

He stumbled to the side, close to the base of your front steps, and his eyes locked with yours. 

His ears were missing, two gaping holes where the gentle slope of the cartilage should be. His lips parted in a silent scream and blood bubbled out hot and thick.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Did I steal the *hi* from Heartstopper because I've been rewatching it for the fourth time this week?................. Maybe???

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @rosebunnysblog @icey--stars @laceandsuch @coralseacourt @cherryinsalemverse @flowerprincezz @valeridarkness @annaaaaa88 @deeshag @bluesiphonsbaby @allyjoe755 @sidthedollface2 @auggiesolovey @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @transparentmoonglitter @ang-taylorsversion @ssmay123 @just-m-2 @sevikas-whore @lalalucha @svtwonwoow @user707sthings @cherryinsalemverse @evylynny @decrepit-bees-knees

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x mate reader #azriel acotar #the shadowsinger and the inkbird #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x you #azriel mate #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #the day court

[enviedear]

can you pleaseeee do the reader’s first with billy??

i feel like that man would be a gentle giant 😞🩷

first time with billy bonney...

you asked so nicely i gave you a full fic <3 enjoy 2k words of first time cuteness with our favorite outlaw

tw— 18+ smut, minors dni, piv, unprotected sex, (do better irl) cumming inside

request

billy's charming in the way he helps you off his horse, eyes as bright as the stars above. you let yourself walk with him, hands interlocked and arms brushing together, as you escort him back to your small cabin.

up here, away from the fast-growing town, trees stand tall and animals call out—it's wild out here. so wild in fact, that no one in the gambling den batted an eye when the gunslinger offered to accompany you home. his citation of some recent bobcat attacks being enough to make his sinfully intended sentiment sound as if it were an honorable and gracious one.

of course, not that you gave it any mind. none at all. for as sure as the days are long, it's no question that you've fallen head first for the man on the run. in just a few weeks of his strolling into town, he's managed to endear himself so effortlessly to you.

you watch his slender fingers graze the doorknob of the wooden door, "i can find som'where else to stay tonight, darlin'. if you've changed your mind."

his voice is hushed and you furrow your brows at his admission, "why would i change my mind?" your resolve is unwavering as you look up at him, your stare wrought with permission.

he pushes the door open, letting you step inside first. for a second, you think he may back down, regret his decision at the den, and leave you here alone with only the idea of what could have been.

such thoughts are promptly absolved from your head when he wraps his strong, yet lean, arms around you. his chest becomes flush against you, and you note the prominent bulge pressing into your backside— how could you have ever thought of rejection? this is the furthest from it, this is obvious clearance, a promise.

"you look so pretty," billy whispers, cool breath hitting your shoulder, "i want you s'bad... just don't let me scare you."

another confused expression graces your face, "why would you scare me?"

the gunslinger breaths in your scent, nose brushing along the curve of your neck, "'cause i know how much i want you. m'crazy for you, sweetheart," he pauses to turn your head toward him, pointer finger at your chin, "just don't want to be too much and scare you away."

you ease into his touch, turning to face him, defenses down at his confession, "i won't run, billy. i like you too much."

your words seem to ignite the spark of passion within him as he pauses to let his eyes trail over your lips before finding your eyes again. the act is small but apparent enough that you feel comfortable enough to slide your hands up to his chest. his heartbeat thumps against your hands, rate accelerated.

with a shaky breath, you lean into him, lips brushing his. lingering, you feel as if you're on the edge of a cliff seconds away from jumping into the waters below. you feel him give the softest smile, bottom lip bumping into your own. the little sensation lights you aflame, and you have to fight back a moan when he finally presses his lips to yours.

his kiss is saccharine, loving, and careful. his hands keep you steady, at your hips, drawing you into him. you feel utterly lost in his being. the way he kisses you, slow and graceful, a welcome surprise. used to rowdy farmhands' awkward kisses and scorned by vicious schoolboys' unsolicited pecks, you've never had a kiss so sweet.

as his tongue tentatively brushes against your lips, you feel your body responding in a way you never thought possible. you feel animalistic, wanton and greedy. your hands grip his shirt, pulling him closer as you part your lips and let him deepen the kiss. the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can't get enough.

with a sudden urgency, billy pulls you towards him and lifts you onto the nearby table. you gasp as he breaks away from the kiss to trail kisses along your jawline before nipping at your neck. your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, and you hear him groan in approval.

his hands roam your body, tracing the curve of your waist before sliding under your shirt to cup your breasts. you arch into him, craving the touch of his rough hands on your bare skin. your own hands find their way to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with them before pulling it off his body and revealing his toned stomach. you run your hands across his chest, feeling the stiff muscles under your fingertips.

you break away from him momentarily to catch your breath, gazing into his eyes as he looks back at you with such intensity that you feel like he's seeing straight into your spirit, "i want you," he whispers, voice husky with desire, have the minute i laid eyes on you."

billy eases you back onto the table, lips grazing your own, the feel of his skin against your own sending shivers down your spine. as your fingers fumble with his belt, you're reminded of your lack of experience.

you pause to look into his eyes, silently asking him for reassurance, "s'okay, darlin', trust me." his lips press against yours, reassuring and gentle, "you're doing s'good already."

you can't help but grow warm at his words, the bravery and candor in his voice giving away your own effect over him, "i trust you." you whisper against his lips, pulling him impossibly closer.

he hums, kissing you again before sliding your dress shirt off your body. you feel his hands roam your waist, following the curve of your stomach to rest on the swell of your hips, holding you steady.

you take a moment to appreciate the sight of billy's bare chest—the way the moonlight filters through the windows, casting an ethereal hue on his body. you catch yourself wondering if you'll be so lucky to have him in your bed again, and you decide then and there that if he leaves, you won't let him go alone.

focusing back into the ardor of his embrace, the kiss as passionate as it was before, if not more. your tongues dance against each other, neither of you keeping a single thing to yourselves. billy's hands slide around to your hips, gripping at your skirt.

a shiver runs up your spine as he pulls you into him, feeling the weight of him press against your thigh. the heat from his body feels almost as strong as your desire for him, and you shudder from the contact, "i need—" you break away from him, hands fumbling at your own clothes, "i need you, billy…"

you pull your skirts up, revealing yourself to the dark-haired man before you. billy's eyes are trapped on your hips, lingering on your underwear as his hands slide up your hips and hook themselves around your bloomers, "never had a lady tell me what she wants," he murmurs, "s'direct."

his words drive you to press your hips into his, wanting him to know that you mean it, "please, i need you."

his lips find your neck, teeth nipping at your collarbone, "i need you, too, darlin'."

you close your eyes, hands finding their way to the button of his pants, "take them off."

you hear him chuckle and he slides down off the table, unlacing his belt as he steps out of his pants. you turn your head from him, flustered as you slide your undergarments off your hips and legs, kicking them to the side to fully expose yourself to him.

the gunslinger glides your back onto the table, eyes grazing over every curve and plane of your body as you lie before him, "you're so beautiful, darlin'."

you smile at his words, reaching your hands out for him as he lowers himself over you. your breaths seem to come faster, riddled with nerves.

you can feel his breath on your cheek, and you lean into him, "billy..." his lips kiss yours once, stopping you from saying anything further. you can feel his erection press against your thigh.

his hands find your hips and slowly slide you towards him, "just relax." he whispers as his eyes find yours.

you feel him press against you, and you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain. you suddenly feel a heat wave course through you, leaving a trail of nerve endings burning at his every touch. the gunslinger groans in approval and kisses your neck, seemingly urging you to relax more.

you feel him nip at your collarbone before slowly easing into you. you feel a light burning sensation, but it seems to be more from his movement than from his dick. his hips are gentle as he thrusts into you, his breath catching in his throat as you move your hips. the gunslinger's hands move to your waist, gripping at you as he pulls you into him.

the need for oxygen breaks your kiss, and billy's lips slide up to your ear, nipping at it as he thrusts into you with more force. you gasp, your back arching as he pulls you into him. you hear him groan in approval, "darlin', you're s'tight, and warm…you feel so good. i could stay inside of you forever."

you shudder at his words, unaccustomed to such vulgar remarks. your mind is filled with thoughts that no lady would ever think, but you find that you don't care. the pleasure billy brings you is more than enough to excuse what others might consider improper.

his lips find your neck again, leaving gentle kisses across your skin. you shiver as you feel him pant against your skin, "more, darlin', let me hear."

you nod your head, not at all sure what to expect. as billy's thrusts become harder, your nails dig into the tops of his arms, leaving light trails of red on his skin. he groans, "good girl."

your mind begins to cloud, your body becoming light with pleasure, "billy…"

as he moves within you, your body instinctively tenses and your breaths become labored. billy's hands grip your hips tightly, urging you to move with him as he thrusts deeper and harder. you can feel the tension building inside of you, a primal heat that intensifies with each movement.

"god, darlin', you're so close. i feel it." he whispers huskily in your ear, his words fueling your desire even more. your nails dig into his arms, leaving marks on his skin as you cling to him desperately.

finally, the wave crashes over you and pure ecstasy washes over your entire being. billy's own release follows closely behind yours, his muttered words blending into the symphony of pleasure that surrounds you both. as you lay there, spent and gasping for air, billy wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. his weight is a comforting pressure against your body as he remains inside of you for a few moments longer.

eventually, he pulls out and lies next to you on the table, allowing both of your bodies to relax and catch their breath. you turn towards him, gazing into his deep blue eyes that are filled with adoration and passion. this intimate moment between the two of you feels like an eternity as you bask in each other's presence. you turn and face him, smiling as you lean to kiss him.

you know you've never been so satisfied, and you can't help but feel happy for the choice you made. the gunslinger is kind enough to take you to your bed, snuggling into both you and your covers.

you lay in his arms, exhausted from your previous activity. billy looks down at you and smiles, "you did real good, sweetheart. i didn't scare you, did i?"

you shake your head, stupid grin on your face, "no, billy. you were perfect."

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd

#billy the kid x reader #billy bonney #billy the kid #billy the kid 2022 #tom blyth #tom blyth!billy the kid #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #billy bonney x reader

[strangerxperv]

Say it Again

Eddie Munson x Reader

(not proof read so it might be shit)

NSFW/ MINORS DONT INTERACT

Who could have known that saying those three precious words would have this effect on him. You knew it was important and refrained from saying it too early. Eddie himself hasn't been shy in saying it. He knew two months in that you were the end game and wanted you to know.

The moment you uttered those little words he was over the moon. He had to have you spread out on the bed repeatedly whispering your devotion. He's kept you on edge not letting you reach ecstasy.

"Say it again and I'll make you fly." His rough hand wraps around your throat gently, "I promise I'll make you feel good. I'll always make you feel good-jus'-jus' need you to say it again, please."

It's his "please" that draws your attention and forces your clouded brain to focus. Eddie's dark eyes usually filled with mirth are misty. Unshed tears gather on his thick eyelashes but you can tell, he isn't sad. His lips are pulled into a smile so soft and sincere as he gazes down.

You glance back up at his eyes and find he hasn't stop looking fixedly at your own face. Eddie stares at your face as if it's the new tits and ass. He's looking at you in this moment begging for you to say something. You've whispered your affection to him since the beginning but haven't said the right thing.

You keep going back to his eyes and the way his hand glides across your skin. It's feather light with devotion and he groans as your walls flutter around him. "Say it again, baby."

Tears fill your own eyes when it finally occurs to you what this look means. Why he's begging for you to speak when normally you're the one begging. And how he stares at you everyday as if you hung the stars. Eddie speaks his own words to you, day in and day out, promising the moon.

"I love you." It makes him whimper when you sob out to him.

"Again." His thrusts speed up their attack on your abused g-spot.

"I love you." Your body is pulled taught with pleasure as your back arches.

"Again!" Eddie's cock twitches desperately inside your spasming walls.

"I LOVE YOU!" The fall over this cliff meets a tsunami wave gushing around his cock.

"I love you to-" His balls pull up and he continues to thrust into you because stopping would be torture. "Say it again, please." He's desperate to cum but he needs to hear you one more time.

Through the fog of your lingering orgasm you mumble out a final, "I lo' you 'ddie."

The dam breaks and bursts forth to fill your waiting cunt with his cum. His head full of curls gets thrown back in a silent scream to the gods. Eddie's strong hands bruise your waist and his toes curl.

Coming down from your respective highs feels like hours. "Took you long enough." His breathless chuckle makes you pulse around him and he whimpers, "Fuck- sensitive!" His low whimpering fills the space between you as Eddie gently pulls out of you.

Eddie likes to watch as his cum slips out of your swollen pussy. But tonight he just wants to stare at you, "I love you."

Your glazed eyed smile makes him melt, "Mmm, I love you more."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things smut #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x plus size reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson x female reader #fluffy smut #eddie munson fluffy smut

[https-furina]

— in another lifetime ! ★ | edition: archons, version 1.0

ft. venti, zhongli & ei x fem!reader

content. heavy angst, mentions of alcohol, death, blood, details of injuries, illness. refers to their story lore. spoilers for inazuma’s archon quest.

✉️ mail received! sender: venti

you had every ounce of reason to believe that the boisterous bard was in fact not a mortal. he knew mondstadt like the back of his hand - i mean seriously, do all bards recite the crevices of a cliff face the way that he does? - and even drunk he could blabber for hours on mondstadt’s history, occasionally mentioning things that were not public knowledge.

therefore you knew you’d be swallowing yourself into a mess when you fell head over heels for that playful giggle, the lingering taste of wine on his lips between kisses and how he always seemed to reassure you so perfectly - regardless of whether you worshipped the archon of anemo or not (he doesn’t mind anyways!)

you remember the day that he finally gave up his secret well. it was carved into your memory the same way venti had every inch of his country burned into his mind, the rocks, the lakes, the trees he rustled with familiar, warm breezes as you walk under them. you’d been ill for months, seeking help from a multitude of doctors to try pinpoint exactly what was wrong - it turns out you didn’t have long left to live. in a bout of emotion, venti exposed his true identity to you underneath windrise, not far from a statue of his own person.

one attachment added!

a gasp falls from your lips, another coughing fit shaking your body as venti perches himself down beside you on the picnic blanket, his hand rubbing your back warmly. you flash him an appreciative smile, to which your boyfriend returns as he presses a kiss to your head. weakly, you raise a tissue to your mouth as you continue to cough, as if something is stuck in your throat.

it’s becoming harder to breathe and when that lump in your throat finally hacks up, the white tissue in your hand stains a bright red. venti’s eyes notice it before you do, the hairs on the back of his neck standing in a panic as his breath hitches - no, you couldn’t possibly be leaving him this soon?

it was as if celestia was mocking him for falling in love with a human in the first place. a mortal with an archon? a concept so amusing in the eyes of those who live forever. it was bad enough falling for you knowing you too would leave him one day but it was even more of a stab to his chest when you were ill with mere months left.

“windblume?” venti whispers, concerned when you don’t respond straight away. your breaths are staggered, weak and wheezing somewhat. it feels like your lungs are filling with liquid, drowning out your vital organs as you become dizzy. your vision is darkening, static around the edges as you look over at your boyfriend.

he’s crying; rivers of precious, glittering tears are dancing down pale cheeks as he stares at you in fear. there’s no reassuring him now. you know that venti has seen his fair share of death, you couldn’t lie to him in such a scenario.

“in… another lifetime, okay?” your voice cracks, you’re running out of oxygen when your chest tightens and constricts like there’s a heavy weight pressing on you, “i-i love you.”

“wait- no!” venti cries out, catching you as your body slumps forward, your eyes unblinking. he squeezes you close, burying his face into your shoulder when he can’t hear your struggled gasps for breath anymore, “i love you too…”

✉️ mail received! sender: zhongli

he figured he’d done a good job of hiding his status as an archon, especially when he tries to emphasise that he is retired - xiao will always send him a straight, deadpanned look in response to this that makes you giggle. you’d seen through it all, namely because you’d been familiar with xiao prior to meeting zhongli. you knew the last remaining yaksha well, on friendly terms.

you knew xiao wouldn’t just respond to anyone the way that he does zhongli. you’d seen first hand how the adeptus responds at the voice of the taller man - obedient and loyal. not to mention, you’d heard plenty of times when xiao stumbles on his words, referring to zhongli by his archon name before his cheeks flush and he stutters out his human name instead.

zhongli thought the idea of love mediocre. it never seemed to impress him - you suspected that there had been a past lover involved but neither xiao nor zhongli confirmed or denied your suspicions. you also knew however that zhongli had every right not to return your feelings. what would an archon ever want with a human anyways?

but the benevolent turned archon cracked under your smile and contagious energy, admitting that he was an archon the same night he had said his true feelings out loud into the night of guyun stone forest - where he had taken you to delve into liyue’s history. it was a personal favourite activity to do with you, your eyes glittering whenever he’d speak of events long ago.

sadly, zhongli knows that he had delved too deep into too many scenarios for his own good, trusting the fatui within liyue at what cost?

one attachment added!

guyun stone forest was as peaceful as ever, the waves rolling up the sand beaches in melodies you wished you could paint on a canvas. zhongli knew you particularly loved this spot - he’d offered to take you to jueyun karst this evening but you was hellbent on coming back to guyun stone forest, a harsh reminder of the archon war to the tall male.

yet as peaceful as it was, a solace that the two of you would cherish any other day, there was the struggled gasps of your breath that broke the silence, meshing with the crash of waves and the whip of the wind on liyue’s coastline.

golden eyes stare at you, panicked and dilated as he takes in the way your blood is staining your attire, painting it red in the shade of jueyun chilis - would he ever look at the specialities of his own country the same again? let alone the location that he held the most memories at, especially with you, the only one he’d truly let close again?

“zhongli?” you whisper, watching the way he’s clutching his polearm with such vigor, brandishing it in anger after having fought off your attackers. if he wasn’t wearing his gloves, you’d see the way his knuckles are turning white.

“how are you feeling? does it hurt?” his polearm clatters to the stony pebbles of the beach you stood on, the very pebbles that are splattered in blood - not just yours but of numerous fatui lackeys zhongli had put to rest in your defence. he rushes to your side, gloved hands cupping your face as he makes you look up at him.

“it burns, li,” you wince, breathing is starting to hurt. it’s starting to take its toll paired with the blood loss zhongli knows he can’t stop, “i’ll be waiting for you in our next lifetime.”

zhongli grimaces at your words, not willing to grasp the concept of you dying yet - no, he possibly couldn’t. he was prepared for much longer time with you, he couldn’t have it cut so short. but he watches the way the sparkle is dying from your eyes, chapped lips parted as shallow breaths leave them.

“perhaps, then we will get this whole thing right, my love,” he reassures, a hand falling down to your waist when your knees buckle weakly under you, protecting your fragile body from the stones below, “i love you, y/n, always.”

✉️ mail received! sender: ei

following the traveler’s escapades in inazuma, ei wandered inazuma city many days to bask in the sunlight she hadn’t seen in decades. she’d hang around a particular café, one where you worked as a waitress delivering cups of hot matcha to tables of smiling elderly couples, dying old together until their last days. ei would sink deeper into thought whenever she saw you, some days even managing to run into you when you wasn’t working - it truly was accidental!

you would be a fool to not recognise her as inazuma’s archon, to which you do. she knows this when you respond to her in polite, formal gestures and yet you never fear her. you never cower in her presence or shake and shiver. it’s a peace she had yet to experience in her time out of the plane of euthymia.

when she announces her feelings to you, under the dazzling, colourful displays of naganohara fireworks in a quiet spot of tenshukaku’s gardens, she makes it clear that you will leave this realm of existence before her - without her. you do not fear this idea either, the same way you do not fear her. ei finds it courageous that you do not fear death as others around her do.

you do fear her capabilities as an archon, the destruction she can cause in mere seconds and the enemies she makes in the blink of an eye but ei never meant for it to turn out this way, they were her enemies to deal with, not yours.

one attachment added!

“ei…?” her name falls from your lips within seconds of your attack, a red river trickling from the corner of your mouth as ei lowers you to the grass below, kneeling at your side as she holds you close in her arms.

“shh, my dear, it is okay.” ei coos, raising a shaking hand to brush her thumb against your cheek, collecting tears yet to fall from your eyes although she can see them sparkling in rhe moonlight. thunder roars over head, lightning flashing around you in the midst of ei’s anger and worry.

it is the first time she has seen you so fearful with eyes wide as you choke on your own blood, coughing it up. it splashes onto her pale skin but she does not react, watching you helplessly as her grip on you tightens.

“this is it, isn’t it?” you ask with a raspy voice, a single tear rolling down your cheek that ei wasn’t quick enough to wipe away in time. ei flashes a sad smile down at you, not wanting to say the words you crave to hear.

“you belong with me - you know that, yes?” she suddenly states, her voice firm but there’s a slight waver in her tone, “maybe in another world or lifetime but i know you belong with me.”

you choke on a sob at her words, succumbing to your injuries as they burn and sting, red drops of blood dripping to the ground below and staining blades of grass. ei presses her lips to your head in a silent reassurance, knowing that nothing she could say would bring you calm now. nothing would bring you the divinity you feel when the two of you would sit under a shared parasol in tenshukaku’s gardens or wandered in the shallow waters of inazuma’s coastlines barefooted.

ei keeps her lips pressed to your clammy skin until your sobs and cries of how painful it is subdue, leaving her with your lifeless body in her arms. only then does the woman cry, screaming out into the night sky in a battle with the thunder - who truly felt more anger in that moment? she wails, wondering if she’ll ever live without the ones she loves getting taken from her so brutally.

© https-furina 2023.

#꒰꒰・♡ cold cases #https-furina #genshin #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #genshin venti #genshin zhongli #genshin ei #ei #venti #zhongli #ei x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader

[gloomysoup]

i found a thing that i wrote months ago and forgot about so have a treat i guess :)

cw: domestic violence

-

Steve isn't exactly sure how it started. It could have been the dishes, or the laundry, or the host of other things Eddie has been avoiding that Steve has had to do himself. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but Steve was tired. He was stressed. He had been working long hours and the weight of his pregnancy had been dragging him down the last few weeks. So no, Steve isn't exactly sure what happened, how it started. All he knows is that they're arguing.

Eddie’s yelling. Steve’s voice cracks and breaks with every attempt to fight back. It's loud. It's heated. They're standing on the edge of a cliff, and someone is going to make the jump. Someone is going to tumble over the edge, and there's no coming back once they do. Steve knows that. He's seen the cliff his entire life. His parents were always standing at the edge. They willingly took the jump many times before. Steve’s life had always been situated right there on the cliff side, waiting for it to crumble out from under his feet. He thought he'd escaped when he found Eddie. He thought for sure that Eddie was safe. That he would build Steve a home far away from the cliff, on solid land. That Steve would never have to face the water again. And yet here they are.

They've been arguing for a while, voices raised and venom spat back and forth. They're aiming to hurt each other. Steve hates it, but he refuses to back down. The words are spilling from his mouth before he can even think about stopping them. It doesn't matter. Eddie shoots back just the same. They're dangling over the edge now. Steve knows it's only a matter of time before one of them snaps.

It's Eddie.

One second, Eddie is saying something about Steve’s family, his childhood. It settles in Steve’s brain as his husband thinking he won't be a good parent to their unborn child. He’s going to fuck it all up just like his parents did. So he shoots back just as harshly. Maybe more.

The words had barely left his mouth before Eddie’s palm was colliding with his cheek. A sharp smack echoed through the room as they both fell silent. Eddie looked completely shocked, like he hadn't expected to do that. Like he didn't know he ever would. Steve should have known. He should have known nothing would ever be different. He was destined to fall into the same patterns as his parents.

Steve swallowed hard and nodded his head. “Okay,” he whispered before turning his back and walking away. He shut himself in the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His reflection in the mirror was almost a spitting image of his mother. His face was flushed, eyes red with the effort of holding back his tears. Eddie’s hand was imprinted on his cheek in a bright red mark. His hands were shaking. The room was closing in on him and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't stay here right now. He needed to get out.

There was a soft knock on the door.

“Steve? Baby? I'm sorry. I- I don't know what got into me. I didn't mean to- I never wanted to hurt you, honey, please. Please open the door. I'm so sorry.”

Steve didn't answer. He couldn't. His ears were ringing. It sounded like the same empty apologies his father always gave every time he laid his hands on Steve’s mother. Deep down, part of Steve knew Eddie was nothing like his father. This was not the same thing. Eddie was different.

But there was a mark on his cheek and the sting of his hand lingering there.

He loved Eddie, and he wanted to believe him, but he had a baby to think about. This small being was still inside him, vulnerable to the outside world. He couldn't take that risk. He wouldn't. He needed to get out.

He opened the door and slipped past Eddie, who had tears running down his bright red cheeks. They were flushed from anger. Not from pain like Steve’s.

He reached for Steve. “Baby-”

“Don't,” Steve whispered, shaking his head and holding up his hand to stop Eddie from touching him.

“Baby, please. I'm so sorry. I- I never wanted to hurt you, I swear. I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry. Please.”

Steve shook his head and made his way down the hall to their bedroom. He grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and started filling it with clothes. Eddie followed him in, but kept some distance.

“Where are you going?” Eddie's voice shook, breaking as he watched Steve pack his things.

“I can't be here right now.” He shoved another handful of clothes haphazardly into the bag. “I'm sorry, Eddie. I need to be somewhere else.”

“Stevie, please don't do this. I'm sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I swear I'm never going to do anything like that ever again. Please.”

Steve shook his head and zipped up the bag. “I want to believe you.”

“But you don't?”

“I can't. With the baby-” He looked up at Eddie, the tears finally rolling down his cheeks. “I just need some space.”

Eddie stepped forward, reaching his hands out. Steve took a step back, and Eddie froze. His arms dropped to his side. He took a shuddering breath.

“I'm sorry,” Steve whispered before leaving the bedroom. Eddie followed him to the door, standing in the middle of the living room.

“Are you coming back?”

“I don't know.”

“Do I get to know anything?”

“I think it's best if you don't.”

“This is what you need?”

Steve sighed and shook his head. “I can't be here right now, Eddie. I love you, but I won't feel safe if I stay. My mom always stayed.”

Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat. He nodded slowly. “Okay. I understand. Just- please just let me know you're safe, wherever you go. I need to know you're safe, Steve.”

Steve nodded, his hand on the doorknob. “I will. I promise.”

“I love you. Please don't forget that. I love you so much, and I'm so fucking sorry for what I did.”

“I know. I'm sorry too.”

He left. The door closed with a soft click behind him. He choked down a sob as he made his way down the path to the driveway. He got in his car, throwing the duffle in the passenger seat and starting the engine. He could barely see through the tears as he backed out of the driveway and took off down the road. He broke into painful sobs as he turned the corner, and their house disappeared.

-

it could be something. idk. is this something? i wrote it on a whim forever ago. it could be omegaverse, it could be trans steve, who knows 🤷‍♀️ i never thought that far ahead tbh. again, it was a whim. if it's something, maybe i'll continue it who knows. anyway, happy tuesday/wednesday guys :D

#there would be a happy ending... eventually #gloomysoup writing #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #omegaverse steddie #trans steve harrington #stranger things fic #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie angst #steddie au

[starillusion13]

FRIENDS!? Chapter 5

🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳🔳

Series ML

Pairing: poly!ateez × f!reader (An ATEEZ Office AU)

Genre: Mature, Angst, Yandere, SMUT

Warning: nightmares and making plans to regain back memories.

W.C: 3k

For my beloved: @oreharuuu

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

[Reblogs and Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a nice day ahead. Please always take care of yourself everyone.]

Hello, Can we be friends please?

You haven't notice yet but you were walking for almost thirty minutes on a long path and you were so lost in thoughts that your exhausted body is lacking energy. It's okay but you have almost reached the location. Feet stop near the edge and your view is hazy due to the tears shielding your eyes. Last time, you have been here was the most warming and beautiful moment of your life but this time, it's just the opposite with only pain visible everywhere.

Standing at the edge of the cliff, eyes shaking and watching the view in front. The thoughts coming to the mind is contrasting with the beautiful and pleasant nature. Hands shaking by the side even when it's a hot sunny afternoon, fingers clutching the torn and dirty pants. Tears streaming down the blood-shot eyes and unpleasant thoughts coming across the mind. The place is very pleasant having some best memories and a blanket of comfort but now it's like a death end for every happy moment of the life. Someone should have there to help but no one was there. So, where to run to? Is there anything more other than ending the life? Looking below the cliff, heart pounding inside the chest and ears becoming deaf to the surrounding.

About to jump, when your name is being heard from a distance. You want to turn around but you cant as your eyes are still focused to the front where you can see the end of your miseries.

"Y/N?"

Y/n.

Several times, you heard someone calling out your name. You didn't turn back or couldn't but you can still hear the voice coming nearer to you.

"Hey, wake up."

Eyes shot open and you sit up properly and can feel sweats lining the forehead and pulling the sleeves to the wrist, you palm your cheeks. The person in front of you has a worried expression on his face. You look up to his height, still trying to understand your situation and how he is here. Looking around, you realize that you are in the cabin of your office and Jongho is staring down at you.

"Hey, Are you okay?"

You try to smile, fingers combing the hairs and pushing them back away from face "Yeah, of course."

Shaking his head, his hands raise to your face to run his thumbs over you tears on your cheeks and wet eyelashes brushing through his thumb. Eyes becoming soft and he gently pulls your face upward, "Why were you crying?"

Okay, your mind is getting cleared and now you know that you were early to the cabin because Hongjoong wanted you to coordinate all his meetings with the schedules of his upcoming events in overseas and then he would have taken it from you before the working hours. You had done with the work but last night you slept late and due to the headache, you don't realize when you fell asleep inside the cabin. Nightmares. Your sleep schedules are messed up because of these weird dreams that occurring to you recently. Like the same ones you had last night and now. Since, the day you have moved here, an uneasy feeling is lingering as if you are being watched by someone but you thought it must be due to the new environment and surrounded by unknown people.

Forcing out a laugh, "Oh it was just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about. I'm used to this."

"Are you sure?"

No

"yes."

Nodding his head, "okay so everyone has already got their schedule for today. Thanks for your hardwork. As far as I know, you don't have anything particular today till lunch time so I guess you are free to do anything you want. But, don't pull pranks with Wooyoung."

You both laugh on the comment. He pats your cheek and sends a warm smile before exiting with a file from the shelf.

Few weeks, you managed to get yourself comfortable in this place, all thanks to Seonghwa and Wooyoung who never left your side so that you don't feel uncomfortable or left out. It's a bit weird to not make you feel left out as this is a workplace not a reunion at your friend's house but somehow, they make sure to remind you every moment that you are their friend and different from other workers or interns in the company. It didn't go unnoticed by you how some people give you glances and the reason is very clear. You are sleeping with one of the bosses or many at once. Seriously, they get on your nerves and if you were in the university then you would have punched them on the face. You haven't told anything about this to your bosses but you have made sure to get back to those shitheads someday if possible. Well, talking about university, you really miss Beomgyu and wonder how he is doing there without you. He is not quite alone but got the company of his friend's group but still you miss his company.

Wooyoung is a perfect reflection of Beomgyu. Same like those playful nature, pulling pranks on you, making you annoyed and disturb you until you just have it for all and ready to scream 'fuck off'. You are most comfortable with him. He has already become your bestfriend and you both together is like an inseparable duo, always sticking together and even fooling around and annoying other of your bosses. It's just professional term you use in front of the workers to refer them but you just consider them as your friends now and you are very close to them but not with all of them. Obvious, that trio is still being scary to you. Yunho, Yeosang and San. Yeosang has a dual personality at a same time and so you try to avoid him the most because atleast you are well aware of the other two being cold with you not like him one moment being soft with you with his arms around your neck and the next moment he is like about to choke you.

Last month, you had the farewell at your university before the end semester and your bosses sent you so many gifts and flowers that left everyone in awe and even Beomgyu teased you that they have fallen in love with you because apparently, they are living with an angel and the very next moment, he is calling out them blind and you as the ugliest creature in the world. Atleast, you were glad that they didn't attend the farewell as on Wooyoung's request or you would have to face a new drama during your semester.

Everything sounds so fine until the main disturbing part of your life comes in spotlight. Since, the day you became close and comfortable with them, you are getting weird dreams. Some dreams feel so realistic but still you convince yourself that they are just nightmares and nothing more.

But are they?

You can clearly feel the girl is you and she is giggling with a boy. The boy is not the same but of different physiques everytime. Maybe, due to the outfits. She looks so happy with him. And other times, she is crying herself to sleep and running through the dark street to and an endless path and crying. Then some blurred images of you being tied up and knife and blood. Stop. You don't want to recall them when you are wide awake. But somewhere in your mind still want to know whether those are just nightmares or something really happened to you. If something like that happened then why you are unaware of this. This what keeps you zoning out.

You never had these dreams before but maybe this new place is giving off such stress that you are thinking weird stuffs. You want to believe this yet you can't. Just like the people in your dreams feel so near yet so far.

It's been five months you are staying and working in this place and it's like a home to you now. A warm and comforting place with your few old bestfriends by your side, who are even always at your service whenever you need something. They literally give you the princess treatment. Surprisingly, Yeosang and Yunho will also treat you nicely when you want something but suddenly your needs disappear when they are the ones at your service. Except San, who stare at you as if because of you he has lost millions of dollars contract but he would pass you things through someone. That's cute. You mean the gestures not him.

.

.

.

.

.

You have time until lunch break so it’s better to walk around the building to get familiar enough to not get lost often without any one of them by your side. Sitting inside the cabin and stressing out about those nightmares is a bit suffocating.

Washing your face, you exit the washroom only to get bumped with someone.

“Oh, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t looking here.”

“Aren’t you, Y/n? The new intern and their bestfriend. Hello, myself Star.”

Your confused face earns a chuckle from the girl in front of you. She links her arm with you to greet you with a bright smile. She has a really friendly and extrovert personality and you hoped to be like that to adjust in places.

“Don’t worry, I’m not kidnapping you. Are you free right now?”

You slowly nod your head and smile because her contagious bright smile is so friendly.

Walking around the building with a new company won’t be bad though. Maybe you can ask her things which you don’t make up courage to ask others.

“I didn’t get the chance to meet you earlier but finally today is the day.”

“I haven’t seen you here before or in my welcome party.”

Taking a turn towards the terrace, she replies “that’s only because I was not here for last few months and meanwhile you joined the company. You are so popular among the employees and I know that’s just because they are well aware of the fact you being friends with the CEOs.”

“Oh, I hope that’s not something to worry about.”

“Of course not, sweety. Some may bitch around but apart from that rest is okay.”

“Well, you. You work in which department?”

She blinks at you before burst out laughing. You got taken aback and feel worried if you have done any mistake because the office and the CEOs all are weird along with the workers so you are always in a worry not to make mistakes.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No! It’s just you look funny while being lost and I couldn’t help myself. And I don’t work here.” She pulls you down a bit because of her height to whisper, “I’m actually the daughter of the business partner of this company, Mr.Lee. They have started this company with my dad and now I have free pass to enter this building anytime.”

“Why did you whisper it?” You ask her in a low tone while looking around to see if anyone is watching you or not.

“No one knows about it and my dad doesn’t want to get in trouble because of me. Also, don’t worry as they are like my brothers so if you have fallen for them then be sure am out of your way.”

You pass through a glass cabin near the terrace and thoughts of Mingi come across your mind. You haven’t seen him for last one week as he is on a business trip and will be coming later today or might be tomorrow.

“Nothing is going to be like that. We are just friends.”

“Yeah sure. But I have a question.”

Standing to the sideways, you both hold the railing and the fresh breeze hitting your skin and face getting washed off from stress. But as you look down, the dream from earlier make you tremble and you quickly move back. Taking heavy breathes, you feel suffocating even in a spacious area with open wide space with natural environment.

“Hey, do you have fear of heights? Don’t need to stand there then.” She pulls you back.

Calming down yourself, you pat your cheeks and tugs your hair behind before assuring her with a smile, “everything is fine. It’s just I felt sick while looking down. You were going to ask me a question, shoot it.”

She makes a hand gesture of a gun and point to you and pulls the trigger. She is really a nice friend and you are appreciating her presence so much that you know in the end of everyday, you will miss her.

“You are so young, I mean Atleast younger than them to be in your same class. They must have been your seniors or something else, right?”

Right. Why didn’t you think of this before? They can’t be your classmates so this is the first thing you need to ask them. How do you all meet with each other?

“I might have amnesia and I don’t remember clearly about the days of our friendship so I’m just getting along with them on the effort of their sides to make me feel that I’m their long lost best friend.”

“Aww that’s cute. They really care for you then. You are so lucky to have them. Okay let’s do one thing, I will help you to get back those memories and let’s see if anyone of them was your childhood lover.”

Getting help from her? Like it’s impossible for you to get to know their past all alone so having a leading partner would be the best but what if they catch you and think that you are doubting them.

“Don’t worry. They won’t know about this.”

“I don’t think others are any problematic except them.”

“Except whom?”

“San Yunho and Yeosang.”

A frown appears on her face as why you are calling them problematic instead of Wooyoung or maybe Jongho.

“What did they do?”

“Well….honestly I don’t know what I have done to them for being always being harsh on me.”

“Eh? Them being harsh? I didn’t expect them out of those eight. They are the sweetest ones but I have seen their serious faces while talking with some employees sometimes. I guess you had some quarrels with them the last time you were friends.”

Maybe. That might be the reason for them still holding the grudge against you. That’s a bit too childish for these grown men. You thought to change the topic.

“What do you do as a profession?”

“I’m a model. Well you are changing the topic. Are you going to start our journey to get to know about them all over again?”

Are you really ready?

“Ye…..yes.”

“Cool. So, we should start from whom? The eldest Seonghwa or the youngest Jongho?”

“Wooyoung. Yes him. I want to know about him. I think he is the one with whom I used to spend most of the time.”

“Then I guess one of those trio would be the last or you don’t want to know about them at all.”

You pout on her teasing but she laughs it off.

First target, Wooyoung.

“ hello, ladies. So, you both are here. Having fun?”

You both turn towards the direction from where he is entering the glass door of the terrace and greeting you both.

Star and you glance towards each other but she holds your hand to act normal as till now everything is okay and he hasn’t heard you both talking and she is sure about this.

Wooyoung comes near to you and your gaze falls on the person trailing behind, San. His piercing sharp eyes watching you, only you. He was looking as if he heard the whole conversation between you and Star. You quickly move your attention from him back on the person in front of you.

“Here take your cold coffee, Star.”

“Thanks Wooyoung.”

Turning towards you, he hands over a paper bag to you. You seem confused.

Giving you the cup, “this is the coffee of your measured sugar and milk.”

You smile while taking them, “thanks, Woo.”

Star casts a glance towards you on hearing the nickname but just nods her head on understanding the situation.

“And in that bag there’s a choco red velvet cupcake for my dear cupcake, Y/n.”

Still. Everything froze around you. As if you have seen something haunted. Your ears ringing. Your wide eyes looking back at him and now he is the one being confused. Your coffee almost slipped if San didn’t catch it. Star is also feeling uneasy about the situation.

You are not caring what they are feeling or how you are looking at them. The only thing is speeding in your mind.

This is the same sentence and the same tone, you have seen and heard in those dreams.

‘Here is a choco red velvet cupcake for my dear cupcake, Y/n.’

NEXT

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#ateez #cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez au #yandere ateez #poly ateez x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #yandere hongjoong #yandere seonghwa #yandere yunho #yandere yeosang #yandere san #yandere mingi #yandere wooyoung #yandere jongho #ateez fluff #ateez x you #ateez fic #ateez poly

[mychoombatheroomba]

Proximity Alert

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 11

And into the minefield you go. Little do you know, Leon is fool enough to follow you.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

Flustered or not, Leon was, as you came to find out, a damn good shot. 

He would have had to have been, you supposed, to survive what he’d survived. Still, you found yourself very much impressed as the two of you spent your hour unloading magazine after magazine into the targets down range. You didn’t mind losing to him. 

Not when three points was all it took for him to smile the way he did. 

“If you can shoot like that now, just think of how good you’d be if you cut that hair so you could see,” you’d said, and you weren’t sure where the energy you had was coming from. 

Maybe you said it for the same reason you'd called him pretty; it was true, yes, but you also wanted to get a rise out of him. 

And a rise you got. “You must not hate my hair too much, if you think I’m pretty.” 

Oh, he was getting better at countering your jabs. Knives and words. And just like when he managed to get a successful counter in while sparring, you watched his eyes go a little wide as he realized what he’d just said. 

You were both flying by the seat of your pants, then. 

“I won’t matter how pretty you are if someone can throw you around by your fringe,” you said, ignoring the way it felt like you were walking over the edge of a cliff. Ignoring the way your mouth curled without you meaning it to. “And if I remember right, I’ve done it before.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to be extra careful, then.” His own smile returned, and it lingered until the two of you said your goodbyes. 

That smile made some stupid, sentimental part of you ache because it made him look young - young and proud and excited that he’d done well. For a moment, he looked like Raccoon City never happened. Like the two of you weren’t training to fight what spawned from mankind’s darkest ideas. For a moment, as Leon beamed at you, you could almost imagine that things were normal. Or, as normal as they ever had been for you. 

You felt that way more and more when you were around Leon - strange, because if anyone should remind you of what waited for you out there in the real world, it should have been him. Instead, you found yourself smiling more when you were around him than you had in the last year. The smiling wasn’t the dangerous part, though. 

Ever more, you were ignoring the warning bells in your mind in favor of holding his gaze for a second longer than you should have. Letting yourself study the strength of his jawline, the way the boyish fullness of his cheeks was sharpening into something harder. Or the way his arms were being cut by more and more defining lines. You let yourself say things you shouldn’t have because getting those little rises out of him made you feel . . . 

It made you feel something other than the misery you’d been wallowing in for so long. 

Something you almost felt you didn’t deserve. 

That had been the silent war your thoughts had been waging, because it was stupid to get close. It was completely and utterly reckless. 

And you thought of that smile as you went to bed that night, anyway, because it felt good to imagine something other than the snow and cold, and the dead eyes that waited for you in your dreams. Thinking of the warmth of his hand on top of yours, his smart mouth, or the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears would redden when he was embarrassed felt like you’d found a place to rest your weary bones. Maybe you could afford a moment of weakness, every so often. 

Thoughts were harmless without action to give them life. A gun with the safety on. You could think whatever you wanted. 

So long as it stayed safe in your mind, where it belonged. 

⧫⧫⧫

Pretty boy. 

It really shouldn’t have taken up such a big space in his head, but Leon found himself thinking of those words as he lay in bed that night. It didn’t stop the nightmares, but it was a far better thing to remember when morning came than rotting flesh, or heavy footfalls at his back. 

Or the feeling of someone’s hand slipping through his fingers. 

He would much rather think of you and whether you were being serious or not. 

That was the question he tried to puzzle out that day, well aware that he was putting too much thought into a single moment. A joke. Had to have been. 

Still, he sure as hell wanted more, whatever it was.  

So, when evening came and he met you in the training yard, he did so with a mission he had no notion of how to carry out. You were already there, as always, the sunset casting you in honey gold. You tossed him a knife. “As promised,” you said as Leon caught it. 

“So, what do I get if I win this time?” he asked, flipping the blade back and forth, just as you so often did. It was becoming more and more natural to him, now. 

Still, if it was natural for him, it was second nature for you. 

“I wouldn’t worry about something that’s not going to happen,” you shrugged, a glint in your eyes. You’d always seemed sure of yourself, but with the passing of the last few weeks, he’d come to see a different side of that confidence. One that wasn’t afraid to dish out a bit of trash talk. An Army brat, through and through. Leon didn’t mind it, so long as he could give as good as he got. 

He rushed forward, knife aimed at your chest. You moved just as fast as Leon knew you could, bringing your hand up to smack the blade away. A few weeks ago, you would have blocked him, but Leon had gotten faster since you began teaching him. 

More than that, he’d gotten wise to a few tricks. 

He tried not to be too proud that he was nearly fast enough to pull the feint off. Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, after all. Still, as he changed his weapon’s course at the last minute and felt the blade catch your shirt, if not your skin. You felt it too, he could see it on your face as you leapt backwards to safety. “Don’t be so sure,” he breathed, locking eyes with you. “I learned from the best.” Flattery had worked the night before. Maybe-

“I’ll tell Krauser you said so.” 

“Not what I-”

“I know what you meant,” you nodded, eyes softening almost imperceptibly. “Now, come on.” 

You were all business when the knives were in play. He knew that. Still, it had been worth a try. Besides, he didn’t think he would ever get tired of watching you fight. Even if he was the one on the business end of your knife. 

You were a viper. When you reared up to strike, one couldn’t help but watch, wide-eyed as adrenaline filled them. Fear and bewilderment in equal measure. And when you moved, god help anyone within reach. You were too fast for him several times that night, as you always were. Too fast and too dangerously beautiful-

Focus. 

The difference lately was that Leon was beginning to move the same way. Those patterns that he’d been watching for from you, he’d finally begun to learn. You favored protecting your torso over your legs. You liked feints. Wrist locks and knocking him off his feet. Controlling his arm. All favorites that he learned to watch out for. It let him stay “alive” longer and longer. All secrets that helped him avoid a disarm, or a takedown. He was learning more than how to fight, he was learning you. For every disarm or takedown, he gave you a scrape or a bruise. You were showing him how to bridge the gap between the two of you. 

That was why he thought he had you when you bent his arm up after a jab at his side, the strain of it edging just short of real pain. 

Your hands were both occupied. His left wasn’t. 

He kicked towards your leg, and you shifted a bit to avoid it. 

His wrist being free was just enough mobility for him to toss the knife up. His left hand caught it, and again he just nearly missed the swipe he took at your head. You ducked under the swing in a blur of motion, and he followed through. You caught the attack, and again your hands were moving to control. Just as he knew you would. 

Shoulder protesting a bit at the speed with which he moved, Leon wove his arm under your own. You blocked the first strike. Just barely the second. 

Your bodies were pressed together, your hands just barely stopping him from checkmate. With steel just an inch from your throat, your lips parted as you looked up at him, first in surprise and then in struggle. Victory was there, within reach. So close Leon could reach out and grab it. Get drunk off of it. 

Drunk off of the idea of winning and drunk off the way you felt against him. 

Then he felt something else. The weaving of fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Gentle for only a millisecond. The sort of sensation that made it feel like someone had hooked him to a high-voltage battery. That gentleness died before it even drew its first breath as he remembered the warning you’d given him the day before. 

⧫⧫⧫

You’d done it to win, and maybe to prove a point. What you could never have predicted was that bragging rights were absolutely nothing next to the real prize. That being the sound that Leon Kennedy made that evening in the training yard when you pulled his head back by his hair. 

You’d heard his pained groans a hundred times now. This one, though . . . it was different. Throaty and strained, and downright sinful. No human being had a right to make that noise. Not in a situation like this. 

If that was the sound he made when he was in pain . . .

What were you doing?

Both of you froze as soon as you realized what had happened, staring at each other from a distance that seemed too far and too close all at once. His eyes were dark, even with how wide they were. His breathing shallow. His body tense. His lips parted. His throat was exposed, the knife in his hand still pressed against it. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thick. 

It was then that you realized just how far into that minefield you’d wandered.

And the way he was looking at you, those shadowed blue eyes searching your own, only made it worse. 

What the fuck were you doing?

“Told you about the hair,” you said, not of your own volition. Something cruel had a hold of you. Cruel and wild and full of a fire that burned you from the inside out. A year’s worth of pushing want down in favor of need was all threatening to split you open, now. 

You were stronger than your impulses, though. Or more cowardly than you’d like to admit. 

Whatever the case, you let go of Leon’s hair and stepped away because you knew if you didn’t, it would mean the beginning of something you couldn’t allow into reality. You just hoped that you had bailed out early enough, because as you moved away from him, that tension in the air remained. 

“You okay?” you asked after a moment of silence, because you genuinely didn’t know what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Leon nodded, and even if he was lying, you weren’t going to call him on it. Not right now. “Yeah. Just . . . point taken about the hair.” 

“Hmm,” you nodded back. 

Another beat of oppressive stillness, and you could only do your best to tread water through it. That, and try not to linger on the way Leon’s lips had looked only seconds ago. It was just a moment, and it passed. The safety was still on. 

“So, are you going to cut it?” you finally asked, pointing to his hair. 

Leon had looked lost up until that moment. Even as you spoke, it took him a second to register what you’d said. He looked at you for the first time since you’d let him go - just a glance, but one that let you know that you’d kicked up a storm in his mind. He breathed a single dry laugh and shook his head. “Not a chance.” 

⧫⧫⧫

He couldn’t sleep. And not entirely for the usual reasons. 

No, that night, Leon was kept awake by the memory of your hand in his hair and the sharp pain of you pulling on it. That, and the warmth of you being so close to him. The way your eyes had been so bright with an emotion he’d never seen in you before, one that burned low and true like embers. 

He replayed the moment in his mind, out of embarrassment, true, but also to chase the phantom of what he’d felt. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you in the dark - his thoughts had drifted to you more and more lately. That night, though, he wasn’t just thinking about you. He was imagining you. He imagined what you might feel like in his arms, what the skin beneath your shirt might feel like against his fingertips. 

He imagined what it might be like to feel the kiss of your lips instead of your steel. 

And as he imagined, he fought back the guilt that wrapped its cold hands around his throat. Who the guilt was owed to . . . that was becoming a more difficult thing to know.

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Chapter Index

A/N: This chapter brought to you by the sounds Leon makes when he's injured. Also shot myself in the foot putting a Leon pic in every chapter . . . gonna need more than 40 of these mfs 😂

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #jack krauser #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n

[mx-pastelwriting]

Picnic

Carlisle Cullen x GN! Reader

Summary: Having a picnic with Carlisle on his day off.

Warnings: Fluff, Established a Relationship

Hiking through the shallow woods empty-handed at the request of Carlisle, leaving you to watch as he gracefully makes his way over rocks and roots, leaving you behind. He stops to look up at you, realizing he may have gotten carried away with himself. Laughing at the fact, he speeds over to you only to hold out his free hand; taking his hand, he helps you through the terrain.

Making it down, he holds your hand while walking through a much clearer path. "It's not much further," he says, keeping his eyes ahead. The air filled your lungs as the deep breath opened your chest; the faint smell of rain lingered in the moist forest, and in a strange way, it reminded you of Carlisle, even when he came straight from the hospital, reeking of sterile medical equipment.

The sight of a clearing was made as walking through the now-thin trees coming out of a steep cliff edge. Looking over at Carlisle, his smile gentle and sweet as his skin glowed in the bright sunlight. The view came from under the cliff, with a large forest covering the land and the ocean on the horizon. "It's beautiful," you said, before his hand slipped away to set up the picnic.

"I found this place years ago but never had a reason to come back," he says behind you, with glasses and food contours following. "I mean, do you need one? I mean, look at all of this." You turn, seeing him put down a contour filled with your favorite drink. He smiled, and before you could read his face, his words started again. "Come eat," he says, as you sit and watch him remove the lids from the sandwiches before placing them in front of you.

Digging in, you feel the taste of the food flood your taste buds while Carlisle watches you smile at the taste, only looking away when you caught his eyes did he look away to the view, swallowing your bite, looking at all the food he had made for you, though he had done it often in his free time with most things he didn't have to taste. You loved every second of it. "How is it?" His voice pulled you from your downcast stare and back onto him: "Perfect, thank you for doing this; I wish I could do the same." Many times you wanted to, but the knowledge he's not in reason when he's hunting never furthered the thought.

Smiling, he looks down and says, "I know, me too" His words were of longing, but as many times as he had always saying "You're all that matters".

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle x reader #carlisle imagine #carlisle cullen fanfiction #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen fluff #twilight #the twilight saga

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

'i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.' for ithaqua? Please I love how you write him!

Sorry anon ithaqua decided he wanted to be a weirdo lol

Rated Mature | Warnings: that classic 'everything is going bad so we are gonna blame this one redhead'

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“I can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.”

Those words linger in your mind, his masked face above you as he towered over you, his breathing nearly silent while you were breathing heavily. You had been running from him until he corralled you near a cliff overlooking the village.

Ithaqua, the creature of these woods, is mysterious and murderous.

“You don't need them. I will protect you.”

You ran from him, denied him, pushing past him to escape towards the voices calling out to you. His arm snatched you and kept you in place despite the fight you put in to get away from him. He only releases you to run into the priest's arm when the small search party finds you.

He has been seen, the Night Watch, the creature that haunts the Icy Forest. Yet as you hide burying your face in the chest of your God's speaker, the eyes of the Night Watch remain on you.

If only you had known the plan he pulled would bring you back to him one way or another.

The return home was silent, the priest told everyone to remain calm. The creature that plagues their land will fall; they will defeat the evil that haunted their ancestors.

“My child,” Ithaqua must have known what they would do, “Why have you forsaken us, those who have given you shelter and love?”

You looked horrified, you tried telling them what happened! You wrote the words on the paper you carry, they took it away as they grabbed you. Friends and family turning against you in an instant.

The village is not going to survive if this weather keeps up. The storm is keeping everyone inside their homes, and most of the supplies are dwindling. Many fear they aren't going to live to see the next spring.

You only left your house to try to find meat; a rabbit hole or a fox's den, anything to help. This they know, especially the priest who went looking for you.

“You will draw the creature here, witch! We will slay you and your master!”

It is a blur after that as if your mind could not handle the madness and tried to mentally escape. They hit you, a punch here or kick there, maybe a slap that cuts your lip. They tied you to a tree near the edge of the forest.

The plan to kill the creature is to use you as bait, claiming hellspawns always protect their own. But you are no hellspawn, no witch, you are just a misfortune soul who wants to help.

Was it because you could not speak? Was it because you are shy? Or was it the red hair you have… Your head hangs low as you pray to be saved, for this all to be a dream.

“I can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.”

He spoke to you, approached you in silence like a breeze, his hand touching your hair before you could run away.

Why? Why? Why?

“Fan out!” One of the village hunters shouted as the wind kicked up around you.

You do not lift your head as the sound of crunching snow and a shadow soon looms over you. His long thin claws caress the side of your face. He leans forward, the sentences repeated.

“Say my name.” You now look up at him with an expression of defeat. “Say it and none will harm you ever again.”

The why is simple: You remind him of her. It was the hair that drew him to you, watching from afar this human with scarlet hair try so hard to be good. A natural kindness the people of this cursed village take advantage of too many times.

Under disguise he came to see you, a meek-looking young man passing through— None were the wiser. None truly wanted to be bothered with him or so much as to smile at him. Yet, there you were smiling and holding up a paper with a simple greeting, then waved.

You gave him food and shelter without expecting anything in return, you even gave him preserved food you made for his journey.

Such a sheep, Ithaqua feels, should not be left with wolves in sheepskin.

“I-Ithaqua.” A whisper followed by the thunderous roar of gunfire.

The hunters and the priest moved to where they set the trap only to see nothing, any trace of life taken by the blizzard.

#reader insert #fanfiction #idv ithaqua #idv reader insert #idv x reader #identity v ithaqua #night watch idv #night watch x reader #ithaqua x reader #ithaqua x you #identity v x you #identity v x reader #identity v

[dailydragon08]

The Edge

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader   Summary: After a harrowing ordeal where you and Luke barely escape an inquisitor's sinister plans, the tension between you and Luke finally snaps--with the Force acting as his ally (Luke’s POV). Rating: E Warnings: smut, implied past drug use (forced on reader and Luke as a form of torture), implied past torture, reader is wearing a bit of a revealing outfit (bralette and maxi skirt with a slit), masturbation, sexually frustrated Luke, no one is around but still doing the do in a public setting, hand jobs, mutual pining, slight angst, using the Force in sexual ways. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order (but can be read in chronological order on my masterlist) about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. This takes place immediately after "Temple of You” (I keep tormenting Luke in these, I’m so sorry). See my masterlist (linked in pinned post) for more. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

***

The cliff's edge loomed ahead, the vast ocean below it thrashing violently against the rock face. Several birds struggled against the gale of the coming storm, flapping frantically against the gray backdrop of the clouds. The grass danced beneath Luke’s feet as he blew a slow breath out his puffed cheeks. He felt your soothing presence strengthen through the Force and closed his eyes, letting the calming sensation wash over him as you drew closer.

His eyes widened when he finally turned to look at you. You were in a favorite outfit of his: the black bralette you usually wore during training, the lace tracing an intricate pattern over your skin, and your gray maxi skirt with flowers. The wind blew the slit open and he couldn’t help but stare as the fabric billowed behind you, giving him flashes of your toned legs. He remembered when he first began training you, not only watching but feeling your muscles develop and grow stronger as he’d gently held and guided you into the correct stances, similar to how he fought the urge to hold you now. 

You stared at each other for several long moments. He took the opportunity to memorize the color of your eyes, unable to resist taking several steps closer to you to ensure he could envision every layer of your iris on command if needed. It felt like something foreign had a hold of him as he moved away some hair that had blown in your face, gently tucking it behind your ear and letting his fingers linger on your jaw. Your Force signature was more powerful than he’d ever felt it—even standing this close to you—and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was an effect of the drug’s half-life running out. He didn’t wonder for long, closing his eyes and leaning into your hand as you brushed some hair away from his eyes. 

He pressed his forehead to yours, relishing how you stepped closer to bring your chest flush against his. A shaky breath escaped him as his hands settled on your waist and he gently bumped the tip of his nose against yours. 

He held his gloved hand out to you, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “Help me take it off?”

You nodded and he watched, mesmerized, as you gently loosened each finger before revealing the blaster hole in his hand. He shuddered as you put the glove into his pocket and your fingers brushed against his hip. 

“Are you okay?” you murmured, close enough that he could almost feel your lips brush against his. 

He nodded, his own flesh hand gently digging into the fabric of your skirt while his cybernetic traveled up into your hair. “More than okay…You?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, leaning closer to ghost your lips over his. 

He tilted his head and finally kissed you like he’d always wanted to—soft to start, but growing bolder and unabashedly needy as he relished your taste. Your lips were everything he’d always pictured and more: soft, warm, pliant, and addicting at a level he hadn’t expected. His cybernetic gently fisted in your hair and he couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest at the soft moan it elicited from you. He could feel your pleasure flow strongly through your connection, still much more potent than usual, and moaned in return. He broke away long enough to suck in a gulp of air, feeling his stomach flip at how the weather fully exposed your legs. His flesh hand traveled downwards of its own accord to grip at the skin of your thighs, gently walking you back several steps until he had you pinned against a nearby boulder. 

Your fingers found their way into his hair and he couldn’t help the whine that escaped him as you yanked. He tentatively dipped his tongue into your mouth and had to force his knees to continue working as yours bumped against his. You gasped against each other’s mouths and he forced his own noises down to better revel in yours as his lips traced a line across your jaw and down your neck, committing the way your chest pushed against his at every pant to memory. Once he reached the juncture of your neck and collarbone, he sucked, feeling his own arousal grow at your resulting gasp. Your grip tightened on his shoulders and he groaned against your skin as you yanked a fistful of his hair again. He alternated with teeth, lips, and tongue until you were in such a state that he was the only thing keeping you on your feet. 

He couldn’t deny he loved the way you held onto him for support, submitting and trusting him fully in a way you hadn’t before. He relished the moments when you let him be your shelter and solid ground beneath your feet and took the opportunity to let his fingers dig, stroke, and wander in equal measure. He could feel something building in the bottom of your stomach and it only fueled his own want. It almost felt like a defiling of the Force to use it in this way—sense what excited you and would pull the most gasps and moans while using it to heighten his own experience. But only almost. Your connection was something beautiful to him, and moments like this only added more credence to the fact that you were made for him and he would cherish and worship you at every opportunity you gave. After all he’d lost, all his regrets about chances not taken, he wouldn’t dare let this one slip through his fingers. 

His name tumbled from your lips in a combination of gasps and moans that only made him want to further his efforts. He moaned yours back to you before steadying your hips with his hands, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses across the thin layer of fabric that hid your breasts from him. He worked a path back up to your lips, wishing more than anything he could make an alter for you in all your glory. His hand slipped from your hair to gently wrap around the front of your neck, sliding down the middle of your chest and coming to a hesitant stop at the top of your skirt’s slit. 

He met your gaze, your pupils blown, hair in disarray, and sighed as his hand hovered. “Maker, you’re so perfect.” He saw himself through your eyes in a quick flash through the Force: his own pupils blown so wide, the blue was barely visible, his hair that wasn’t still captured in your fist blowing from the incoming storm, lips parted as he breathed heavily. Although he wanted to wince at the laser focus he couldn’t help but attach to every scar, every line, the crooked shape of his nose from the Wampa attack, and the fact that his body was vastly different than it had once been—would you have liked him better when he was 19, fresh-faced, and still had both hands?—he could sense how mesmerized you were, the unbridled joy and excitement in the pit of your stomach from being this close to him, the absolute devotion you had for him. As your hand moved from his hair to rake your nails lightly down his neck and chest, he shuddered through what was almost a weak sob as he pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. 

Your hand stopped at the sash near his waist. “Can I…?”

He managed a breathless yes, followed by an oh, Maker as his shirt fell open and your fingers wandered over his lightning scars. It was like you were seeing the ocean, snow, or a rainstorm for the first time, and his knees nearly buckled when you pressed a featherlight kiss to his collarbone. 

In an attempt to steady himself against you, his hand touched your lower abdomen where it had been hovering. You gasped, pressing your face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He gently played with the waistband of your underwear, tilting his head to murmur, “May I?” in your ear. 

You nodded against him and he slowly hooked his finger under the fabric as he nuzzled into you, bumping your hair out of the way with his nose and sucking a light mark into your neck. As he slid your underwear down your legs with your help, he couldn’t help but fall even more in love with how easy and natural it was with you. He had never done this before—not just with you, but with anyone—because no one had captured his interest the way you had. It was as if his body knew what to do of its own accord, because falling for you was not falling—it was rising, watching the foundation lay itself while the walls of the home he found in you gently revealed itself through the fog of pain and loss, already built and ready and waiting to welcome him. 

You turned to kiss him, your hands cradling his face in a way that sent a chill through him as you stepped out of your underwear. Unsure what to do, he pressed them into your hand, groaning when you slid them into the same pocket as his glove. A smile played on the edge of his lips as he carefully slid a digit into you. “Are those mine now?”

You nodded, leaning your head back against the rock and moaning so loud he felt his cock twitch in his now-straining pants. His own head tilted back and his eyes rolled back into his head at the feel of you around his finger. He again felt you projecting to him, felt your pleasure, felt the tension build even more in the bottom of your stomach as he pumped his hand in and out. 

“Maker,” you mumbled as his thumb circled your clit. 

Putting his lips next to your ear, he whispered, “I love your noises.” He nibbled and sucked lightly on your earlobe, releasing you long enough to shake his head and swallow a moan as you palmed his growing erection. “Not yet. This is about you right now.”

“But—”

“Let me take care of you.” He left a lingering kiss on your lips as he brought his finger out to play lazily with your entrance. “Please.”

You nodded, letting your hands roam over his bare chest. “I…need more, please.”

He felt your disappointment and emptiness as he removed his hand completely. He hoisted your legs up onto either side of his waist, watching with hungry eyes as the movement made the skirt part even more and he could finally see just how perfect you were. He held you steady, sandwiching you between himself and the rockface before kissing you again. “You’re so beautiful…You have no idea how perfect you are.”

“I can—” he cut you off with another kiss as you played with his hair, “I can feel you…through the Force, it’s—”

“I know. I can, too.” He searched your eyes for a moment before leaning into the feeling even more. Your skin tingled all over your body, your entrance throbbing and in need of him as the butterflies built in your stomach to a maddening pace. He could tell you wanted him to take the lead and he was more than happy to oblige. “Now,” he took the finger that had been inside you into his mouth, closing his eyes and sighing at how you tasted against his tongue, “tell me—please—is this for me, too?”

The visual only pushed you further toward your edge as you nodded vigorously. 

His fingers hovered over your entrance, almost touching, but not quite. “I wanna hear that sweet voice say it.”

You stuttered out a breath. “Yes—yes, it’s all yours.”

“Good girl.” He kissed you again, this time inserting two fingers and pushing you further and further, occasionally rubbing your clit with his thumb before adding his ring finger. “Let me hear those pretty sounds.”

You let your body take control, not worrying about the noises escaping you as you bucked against his hand, bumping his cock in the process. 

He groaned, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck between pants and nibbles, moaning after every noise he evoked from you as he pumped his fingers faster. “I’ve thought about this so long—so many times, you have no idea,” he began to ramble and could sense you wondering if he was also closer to his own orgasm than you thought just from your pleasure alone. “I am.” He took your earlobe between his teeth before licking a strip just beneath your ear. “This is what you do to me, how much you mean to me, how much I love you.”

You gripped him as hard and close as your hands would allow. “M-maker, Luke, I’m…I’m…”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

You climaxed with a noise that surprised even you. Luke kissed you again, desperate to feel even closer than he was now, sinking further into your Force bond in a desperate attempt to wrap himself up in you so completely that he couldn’t tell where you stopped and he began. 

As you came down from your high, gasping for breath and holding him ever closer, he ignored his own need to fully take in your blissed-out state as you collapsed against his chest. He gripped your legs tighter against his waist, burying his face in your blowing hair and letting the familiar smell wash over him. He pulled back to look at you, gently stroking the backs of his fingers against your cheek, letting his thumb graze over your temple. “Are you all right?”

You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “That was…” You met his eyes and laughed breathlessly. 

He smiled. “Perfect.”

You laughed and the sound sent a shockwave through his body. “Yeah.” He leaned into your touch as you cupped his face between your hands, groaning against your lips and pressing his midsection further into yours as you kissed him. “Now let’s take care of you.” You yanked his hair to lean his head back, mouthing at the warm skin of his neck. “I wanna feel you.”

He gasped. “Are you,” he swallowed hard, weaving his fingers into your hair and holding tightly to you as he took a few steps away from the rocks, “are you sure?”

You met his gaze and nodded, making a bolt of pleasure shoot through him. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to yours before reaching his hand towards his nearby pack. Using the Force, he spread out his cloak on the soft grass, gently moving to lay you down on top of it. He climbed over top of you, brushing your hair away from your face in a gesture so tender, he could feel your body tremble both against him and through the Force. “Maker,” he sighed as your nails lightly raked down his chest again, moving his shirt open more to give you easier access. 

It took all his strength and restraint not to collapse into you as you undid his belt, pulling it free from the loops and throwing it to the side. As your hands made quick work of his buttons, he stuttered out an I love you, breathing in your returned I love you, too like air for a drowning man—

—A sharp series of whistles and beeps snapped him out of his slumber so hard, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Luke panted and looked around the walls of his bedroom in the Redeemer and screwed his eyes shut, throwing his head against his very lonely bed in frustration. One of Artoo’s socket arms was pushing against Luke’s bare abdomen where it hung precariously over the edge of the bed. 

Luke rolled so he was no longer at risk of falling out. “T-thanks, Artoo,” he breathed, his voice a pitch higher than usual. “Can—can you, um…” he swallowed hard and panted, “just give me a minute?”

Artoo tittered before wheeling out the door. 

“Shut the door behind you!”

As soon as he was safely alone, he frantically undid the button of his pants, shucking them down his thighs as reality sprung back to him with startling force. The two of you were aboard the Redeemer, returning to the rebel base with several Force artifacts in tow after escaping a deranged inquisitor who had tortured and drugged you to cut off your connection to the Force. Based on Artoo’s findings during the journey home, the drug caused powerful hallucinations as a side effect. The Empire had been experimenting with it just before its fall, so the effects of the cool-down period weren’t entirely known, but “possibly includes temporarily heightened Force sensitivity.” 

Before he could worry too long about whether he’d accidentally projected any of his dream to you—or whether this was even originally your dream that you had projected to him—his need took over. He took himself in his hand and began pumping up and down furiously, biting down on the forefinger of his cybernetic to stifle his noises. Your name escaped him several times in a strangled whimper as he led himself to his finish, releasing more than he ever had before. 

As he released his hand from his teeth, he could see bite marks against his tanned skin and realized he still felt you just as strongly through the Force—more specifically, still felt your pleasure. As he realized what you were likely doing, he pulled back and did his best to shut himself off from your connection. As much as he hated doing so, he could feel his own arousal trying to climb yet again at the feeling of yours. Did this mean you had shared the same dream due to your heightened Force sensitivity? Or were you just taking care of yourself of your own accord?

He was almost tempted to tap back into your connection to see if he could figure it out—but only almost. He wouldn’t invade your privacy that way. However, no matter how much he tried to separate himself, your intensified connection was too strong. He raced over to his pack lying against the far wall, took out the Force suppression cuffs you had nabbed from Tangzhen’s things, and slapped them on his wrists. They were originally only intended for use if the drug didn’t work, but they would do for his current purposes. 

He let out a breath as he fired them up and felt them take effect, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief and hating the emptiness he now felt in the spot you usually occupied. It reminded him almost too much of the ordeal you’d both survived and he shuddered, forcing himself to grab some tissues from his dresser to clean himself up. He peeked his head out his bedroom door, rushing to the refresher once he confirmed the coast was clear. He splashed some cold water from the sink on his face, running his damp fingers through his hair. Leaning his forehead against the cold mirror, he sighed—this was going to be a long night cycle. 

#star wars #star wars smut #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker fanfiction #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x jedi!reader #star wars remnants #my writing

[sixgunluvr]

Mature 18+ Readers only!

Just a short story written in 1st person.

The looks he gives me stir something deep inside of me, an ache that only he can sate.

Without hesitation, Arthur thrust inside of me. I gasped at the intrusion, feeling him fill me to the brim. He felt amazing, like he was made to fit me perfectly. The feeling of him inside me was enough to make my toes curl, but when he began to move, that's when things got really intense.

Arthur set a punishing rhythm, driving into me with such force that the whole bed shook beneath me.

Every thrust seemed to reach deeper than the last, sending jolts of pleasure through my body that made me cry out his name.

He wrapped one hand around my throat, not enough to choke but just enough to remind me who was in charge. With the other, he reached down between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing slow circles around it. My orgasm built quickly, climbing higher and higher until I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, ready to tumble over.

"Come for me," Arthur growled, his voice low and commanding.

He increased the pace of his fingers on my clit, and within seconds I was tumbling over the edge, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave.

Arthur didn't let up, continuing to thrust into me with hard, deep strokes that made me see stars. His fingers on my clit remained relentless, drawing out every last tremor of pleasure from my body.

"Oh, fuck, oh fuck," I chanted, unable to form complete sentences.

My eyes rolled back in my head as Arthur continued to piston in and out of me, his hips slapping against my thighs. Sweat dripped from his brow, landing on my chest and mixing with the sweat already there. His grip on my hips tightened, leaving bruises that would linger long after this moment had passed.

"Say it.

Tell me whose pussy this is," Arthur demanded as he thrust into me again, making my whole body shudder with pleasure.

"Yours," I gasped, my voice barely above a whisper. "Only yours."

Arthur grunted in satisfaction, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he felt himself getting closer to the edge.

"That's right, darlin'. You're mine." Arthur's words sent a thrill down my spine, and I felt myself getting even wetter. He thrust into me once more, his hips slapping against my thighs with a loud smack.

I could feel his cock swelling inside me, pushing me closer and closer to another orgasm. His fingers on my clit moved with a newfound urgency, and within seconds I was screaming his name, my pussy clenching around him like a vice.

Arthur groaned as he felt me come, his own release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting and gasping for breath.

"Fuck, darlin'," he murmured, his voice muffled by my hair.

His breath was hot against my skin, making me shiver in delight. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of my own.

Arthur's body was still intimately joined with mine, and I didn't want him to move. I never wanted this moment to end. But all too soon, he rolled off me and onto his back, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

I turned to face him, propping myself up on my elbow as I studied his handsome face.

His green eyes were dark with desire, and his brown hair was tousled from our earlier activities. I couldn't help but reach out and run my fingers through it, marveling at the softness of the strands.

Arthur caught my hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my wrist. "You're amazing, darlin'," he murmured.

I blushed at his words, feeling a warmth spread throughout my body. No one had ever made me feel so desired before.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption community #red dead redemption two #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption photography #rdr2 photomode #rdr2 #rdr fandom #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 photography #rdr2 community #reddeadcommunity #red dead 2 #reddeadlove #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 smut #smut #writing #my true love #my obsession #my cowboy

[spookyspecterino]

Gentle Promises in the Dark

Sam Coe x GN! Starborn! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions.

Spoilers for Starfield's endgame content.

No warnings. There's just a pinch of anxiety, but it's all fluff and happiness.

Sam asks what your future plans are. Will you leave him in search for another universe or stay behind?

This was a lovely request! I'll be closing them for now, just because I have more to catch up on and I've been getting distracted. Thank you to everyone for supporting my work! This fandom has been so welcoming and lovely to interact with!

Sam lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It must be late by now. But he isn’t tired, his mind turns over and over with endless thoughts.

A faint ray of light draws his attention, it’s the bedroom door opening just a crack for you to slip in. It shuts right behind you, returning the room to its inky blackness. His thoughts halt with the sound of your quiet footsteps.

Sam feels you slide under the covers, your feet are cold, as usual, and you snuggle up to him. Instinctually he’s moving to let you lay on his bare chest—your favorite spot.

“Hey.” You whisper, sounding content at last.

“Darlin’.” He drawls back in greeting, wrapping his arms around you.

“You doing ok? You’re not usually awake this late.”

“Just thinking.”

“Hm. About what?”

“Just about…” he sighs. “Everything.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah…”

An uncomfortable silence lays in the air. Instead of passing, it lingers until Sam sighs again.

He decides to ask the question that’s been on his mind for a few weeks now.

“Are you going to go back into the Unity?”

Are you going to leave me behind?

You don’t answer at first. Memories surface of all the other times you traveled through the Unity. And all the times you came out of the other side. Feeling empty.

Out of fear or nervousness, you may have brushed the question off any other time, but now you answer honestly. “I don’t know. A long time ago I thought it was my purpose. Finding artifacts, fighting the Hunter, passing through the Unity… but…”

Sam hesitates, waiting on the edge, he wants you to continue. But he’s afraid of your answer.

“This universe…it’s different than the others.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked this, but how many universes have you been to? How many years have you been doing this?”

You chuckle. It sounds pained. “Too many to count and too many for one lifetime.”

Sam tries to laugh, to alleviate the anxiety he feels bundled up in his chest. “You tellin’ me you’re older than I am?”

Groaning playfully, you nuzzle into his neck. Your smile against his skin makes his heavy heart a little lighter.

“Let’s not talk about that part.”

He pulls you closer. “Ok deal.”

The silence lingers again.

“Are you looking for an opinion?” he asks, his voice very quiet.

“From you? Always.”

“I think you should stay here. With us—with me. We could…” He clears his throat, swallowing the words his heart wanted him to say.

“We could what?”

After a few beats of his pounding heart, “It’s gonna sound sappy, but…we just keep going. Grow older together. Watch Cora grow up. Live out our golden years exploring the stars.”

“You really want that?”

“Hell yes I do.”

You fall silent. Sam stares into the dark. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into a deep abyss with no end. He wished you’d just spit it out, give him the bad news so he could start preparing himself to lose you—

“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.”

Sam’s whole body relaxes with a long-winded exhale. Had he been holding his breath?

“Did you think I was going to say no?”

“Honestly…I was kind of expecting you to. How could I compare to the life—or lifetimes—you’ve lived traveling to new universes? How could I compare to the power you gain every time you cross over?” He looks away, shrugging. “There’s an infinite number of me out there. You could do this again in the next universe.”

You pull back, propping yourself up to look at him in the dark. He can see the faint outline of your face. You’re frowning.

“There’s only one of you that’s like you. I have never met another that comes close.”

“You’re just trying to flatter me.”

You take his chin in your hand, forcing him to face you and preventing him from turning away. “Out of infinite universes, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

“What about the one in your original universe?”

“If I loved him, I wouldn’t have left.”

“Huh…so that means…?”

“Yes.” He can see you smile. “I choose you. I’m staying.”

He laughs, pressing a light kiss to your lips. “Well, I guess first things first.”

You lean your forehead to his, he can hear the smile in your voice. “And what would that be?”

“I’m gonna marry you.”

#Sam Coe x reader #Sam Coe #Starfield #gn reader

[mamayan]

Crying Won’t Help

NSFW•MDNI•Read All Trigger Warnings

Alpha!Dabi x Omega!F!Reader

Synopsis: Your flame using villain Alpha isn’t pleased you disobeyed his order to not touch yourself. Now you’re going to learn what happens when you touch what belongs to him.

⚠️ Trigger Warnings: ABO Themes/DOM/SUB, Dubcon (implied), Violence, Breeding kink, Praise Kink & slight degradation, Vaginal Penetration, Overstimulation, Choking, Orgasm denial (initial), Oral (both receiving), Knotting, unprotected sex, spanking (a little), spitting (in reader’s mouth), and general Dabi warnings ⚠️

You have been properly warned, and if not, read my warnings again🔝

Your wails went ignored.

Fingers fisting the air as you struggled to gulp air into your lungs before you neared the edge again, only for your cruel Alpha to sneer and pull his hands from your sopping cunt.

“I-I’m sorry! Please please please Alpha- Ah!” Your blubbering pleas interrupted by a sharp crack against your outer thigh, a bit of heat lingering even after his hand moved to wrap around your throat. You couldn’t see the mess you’d become, but Dabi’s mouth watered looking at you. Your hair was sweaty and sticking to your skin, your doe eyes watery and exhausted, and your lips swollen and puffy. Your skin was blotted from all the tears shed, but not an ounce of mercy was given to you.

The crime? An orgasm not sanctioned by the vicious Alpha looming over you with his elongated canines on a full display of dominance.

It wasn’t your fault this happened. It was his fault for being gone so long. He’d been gone for weeks, leaving you alone and desperate for the comfort of your Alpha. You’d barely had to touch your clit over your underwear to send yourself tumbling into an orgasm… that he came home just in time to witness. You’d tried to explain, plead your case, but he just grinned and shook his head. His eyes wide and clearly not happy.

“Since you wanna do your own fucking thing, let me teach you self control omega.” No Doll, Sweetie, or even Princess. He’d called you by your designation, which meant he was pissed.

He’d wrapped your wrists in rope, tied them to the headboard, and began an awful descent into hell. Omegas were made to cum, made to take it and give it, but this denial was close to abuse. Your Alpha, a nasty villain with a penchant for violence, didn’t care. Your whines made him laugh, whimpers received little coos, and tears he simply licked off your cheeks. He mercilessly lapped at your swollen folds, drinking you down before stopping just before you could cum. His fingers would stretch your hole, hit those perfect little spots inside that made your eyes roll back, before tearing out of you just as you neared your finish. It was agony, and you’d never regretted an orgasm more in your life than you did today.

Your slick, drool, and tears soaked the sheets and mattress beneath you. Your arms went numb what seemed like hours ago. Still, Dabi smiled crookedly as he pushed on your lower belly while curling his fingers up, forcing you towards another cliff you’d be forbidden from falling over. Your juices soaked his hands, your thighs shaking and your sweaty chest heaving from the efforts. Dabi kissed a trail up your stomach to your breasts, kissing and sucking so sweetly on your nipples while you mewled for mercy. Anything to end this.

“I love you- hah, Alpha please, be good, good, please.”

Dabi laughed at the pathetic picture you made right now. “Poor thing, do you need to cum?” His condescending tone wasn’t even registering with your fevered brain anymore. You mindlessly begged for him. “Need you- knot, need Alpha, please, fuck me Alpha, need to cum, oh!” His snickering intensified when the wet squelching noises from your cunt got louder when he pressed that point deep inside. It felt so good it hurt. Dabi was too drunk off your sweet pheromones to mind your ramblings anymore, his own cock aching and heavy in his boxers. His pants long thrown elsewhere to relieve the pressure while stimulating you. Yanking his boxers down, he lathered his tip in your copious slick, growling in pleasure as your hips arched off the bed to try and sink him into you faster. Looking at your fucked our face and pain filled expression, he finally slammed into you, his knot kissing your opening.

You came immediately.

Dabi lost it, his hands heating up a little unintentionally as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips to hold you still. Your cunt was milking him, shaking and contracting. His head rolled back as a guttural groan joined your whimpering moans, as a larger wet spot dripped down his balls and your ass. You squirted all over his lower abdomen and cock, making for an absolutely debauched image in his mind. His phone was across the room, or else he’d snap a couple pictures. He’d set his phone camera up to film next time, so he’d have something to watch while he was away on mission.

He set a brutal pace off the bat. His hips rutting into you, slamming his pierced cock into your cervix. It was so agonizingly pleasureful it left you dizzy. Dabi knew he wouldn’t last long, fucking you into a frenzy as one hand drifted down to pinch your clit and throw you into another orgasm.

The overstimulation seemed worse than the denial, your body jerking in protest as you nearly bit your tongue. The noise of protest did nothing to lessen the burden your Alpha was drilling into you. His hand left your sensitive and achy clit in favor of your throat where his claiming bite lay. His long fingers easily encircled you, before he was hunching over your figure, his words ominous, “You wanted to cum slut, so you’ll cum as much as I want you too now.” You were dizzy with all of the exertion, your body begging for a break as you felt another orgasm building.

You tried to shake your head, his grip tightening as you gasped for air. He spit in your mouth with a laugh, nearly choking you for real as you gagged and tried to swallow despite him constricting your airway. His angular hips smacked your thighs at a bruising pace, the bodily aches beginning to turn you delirious with the additional pleasure. Dabi was lost to his own ecstasy, your warm tight cunt, sweet scent, and wild appearance making his balls tightened and ache for release. He wanted to breed you, pump you full and keep you locked on his cock all night. If you hadn’t been naughty and touched yourself like you did, you could’ve escaped the previous denials and skipped straight to this.

Despite his rough treatment, he was conscious of how much you could reasonable take. You were certainly bordering your limits, sobbing and gasping as another orgasm wracked your poor pathetic cunt. Dabi relished in the soaked bedding beneath you both, symbolic of his ability to unwind you completely into this lovely creature that was made to just feel. Feel his body, his mouth, his cock. He moved both hands to your hips as his knot began to catch at your entrance. Your cried and whimpers increasing in volume as you felt the signs your Alpha was going to fill you up. His face buried itself in your neck, nibbling and lapping at your bond mark. “A-alpha…” Your worried and confused mumble was met with a chuckle softer and warmer than his previous attitude.

As his knot finally stretched and slid inside you, swelling rapidly as an orgasm so strong you couldn’t breathe slammed into you, Dabi’s teeth sunk into your neck over your healed mark.

The pleasure and pain was blinding for both of you.

You came back slowly, feeling the unmistakable heavy weight of Dabi’s knot and his twitching cock filling you with hot cum every few moments. His tongue lavished your renewed bond mark, his chest pressed tight against your own as a deep purr rumbled from him.

Your mouth was dry and cottony, all you could physically do was lay limp in his arms and whine when he pressed himself deeper into you occasionally.

“Good girl, so good, all mine, right Doll?” He snickered at your little whimpers, your eyes heavy lidded and expression dazed. He was gentle in untying your wrists, checking for any lasting damage and satisfied to find none. His lips were warm on your clammy skin, kissing softly where he could reach as the high wore off. You’d be sore when his knot went down.

At least your Alpha was finally home.

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