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melit0n · 4 months

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Half-Starved

- Oneshot

- Obsessive! Ghost/Reader

- Word Count: 3.2K

- Warnings: Descriptions of gore, canabalism as a metaphor for love, mentions of past domestic abuse, stalking

- Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52474849

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was born hungry.

Born with a relentless nagging feeling curled up right between his oesophagus and the squirming muscle of his stomach. From the very moment Simon opened his eyes, he was hungry for something he would never have. Left to starve in the gloom of the locked cupboard he was shoved into for not shutting up. He spent fifteen-odd years greedy for any drop of affection he could get. Anything he could grasp and hold onto, no matter how many bruises it would leave him with. No matter how long he would have to spend chained up like a bad dog in the corner of his room licking his wounds telling himself that it was worth it. That the blood was worth it. The pain was worth it.

Anything to be acknowledged.

Now, once again finding comfort in the gloom of his home, he is still hungry. Even more so. However, he didn’t like to be touched, because of him, but he still craved it. Maybe too much. He wanted, wants, to be held tight enough so he doesn’t break. Wants to be vulnerable. But he’s still afraid he’ll end up being a scared kid looking into the slit eyes of a snake again.

He blames his younger self for the predicament he’s found himself in, wants to sit down with him and shake him by the shoulders and ask why. Why he put himself through that for that long. But even so, he can’t blame the kid. He knows how hungry he is now; feels the scraping like dull claws against the soft spot between his liver and his spleen. He can only imagine what it was like for him as a kid. He’s blocked most of those memories out now, though.

He sits through the tugging, the pulling, through each dull meeting. Each dark night spent alone in his bunk. Each evening he spends licking wounds that just won't close.

Unfortunately, this issue, this dilemma, is a hard one to fix. A hard want to satiate. Being a 6’4 SAS agent with a heavy Manchester accent and an apparently unapproachable demeanour, most people tending to avoid him in the streets, makes it a bit hard to gain attention, let alone affection.

But then there’s you.

The first word that would come to his mind is kind.

Out of the blue, draped in moonlight and glimmering stars, you begin to appear everywhere. He doesn’t know if you’ve moved here recently, or if his brain has randomly decided to notice your presence, but you’re here. And there. And everywhere, really.

He sees you in the local corner shop, holding tightly onto the baggy sleeve of whoever you’ve brought along for your midnight excursion, brushing your hand, intently, against that of your work friends on the crowded train you both take every day into the city. You use physical affection as not only a way to show affection itself, platonic or romantic, he isn’t particularly good at guessing unless it’s incredibly obvious, but as a form of comfort and encouragement as well.

In less than a month into his leave, you’ve managed to become a staple in his civilian life. He sees you in the morning, always at the train station with breakfast and lunch in hand looking quizically around to see if you’ve missed your train like a doubtful deer. He knows you know you haven’t. You’re like him; you’ve got an obsession with time. While his is instilled by the harsh words of the military, yours is brought about by a tight work schedule. And maybe something else. He wonders what the something else is as you both board the already stuffed train, both standing in the same carriage full of warm, tired bodies.

He sees you in the afternoon as well, sitting outside on a park bench with a friend eating lunch. While you talk, you have a habit of taking tiny crumbs off of your sandwich, flicking them off to the ratty pigeons that flock around your feet like moths to a flame. You always have the same lunch; the same sandwich bread from the same corner shop with the same filing. You have a thing with regularity, routine, as well, it seems. Just like him.

Of course, he sees you in the evenings too. You both take the same train home, and almost always end up so close yet so far from each other on the carriage. Your work friend gets off at the stop two before yours and Simon’s; always leaving you with a pat on the shoulder and a closed eye smile, which you almost always return. You have a habit of doing a little jump when you get off the train which Simon finds quite cute. It’s almost as if you’re actually afraid of the gap.

Of the fall.

Either way, you part ways without knowing you’re parting from him, leaving him incomplete in an odd way, and head back to your home. Ghost has an impulse to follow you, in between curiosity at where you live and to make sure you’re safe, but Simon urges himself to head home. To sleep. You linger in his thoughts each time he walks back.

At first, he’s oddly amazed, a bit in awe, if he were honest, that you can give so much affection so easily, touch so easily, and receive it tenfold from the people around you.

Then, there’s annoyance, titering on the fine, chipped-away line of anger. Like a mantra, he asks why it’s fair someone can give, give and keep on giving, let alone receive something back, and he can’t? How can you hold someone so closely and not be afraid of a knife in your back?

Maybe that’s Ghost talking, he thinks.

Eventually, he falls off the fine line of annoyance and anger into the muddied trench that is jealousy. Jealous not only of you, how you can give and receive so easily, but of the people in your life who get to experience the affection that you give to any warm body that passes by you. Said people who don’t understand how precious and rare that experience is to others. To him. He wants to taste it. Badly.

Then, it morphs. Twists and turns like a dying thing, all red with chunks of fur sticking at odd angles, into attraction. Turning from a want to be held, a quiet plea to the void for you to keep him together for just a little bit longer, to a need. A need to kiss until both your lips are bloody and raw, bitten and chewed like a pomegranate, seeping your liquid life for him to drink as an elixir. He wants, needs, hungers to feel the comforting weight of your blood in the bottom of his stomach.

He’s seen the way you kiss, and God above he needs it. Needs you. He doesn’t care if it’s the fleeting, platonic kisses you gift to your friends on the cheek (he wants you to take a chunk out of his cheek. Wants you to chew on the fat like the gum you always have in your mouth), or if it’s the rough ones you give to the men you bring home. The ones that have them chasing your lips for more, which you always allow because you never stop giving.

Simon wants it. Ghost needs it.

Consequently, the dull scratching of the claws in between his liver and his spleen grows sharper. After years of the scratching, the pulling, the tugging, he’d thought his hunger pang’s talons had grown weary, but he feels them. He feels the sharp ache like a pistol’s bullet and it bloody hurts. Has him hunched over on his bed trying to claw out his stomach because, for the first time in years, it's hurting him.

And, for the first time in years, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley decides to listen.

As more time passes, more time spent getting soaked outside your house in the rain waiting for you to come home because you’re oddly late for all the time he’s known you, it changes again. Writhes around in his stomach and the fat in his veins, to something much worse. Much more harmful, at least, to you. In all the pain of his hunger, he contemplates taking chunks out of you. Maybe that will satiate the creature that squirms in his bloody viscera, laying claim to all of his innards in an attempt to get him to feed for once in his life.

To allow him to know what it feels like to be full, instead of half-starved.

Zoning out during meetings easily turns to daydreaming of taking one of his hunting knives to your flesh. Cut strips of skin, like your his sacrificial lamb to slaughter and devour, and finally put those butchering skills he gained to work somewhere other than on the field. He promises he’ll be delicate. Promises he’ll be kind. He wouldn’t dare show you the bloodthirsty rage his opponents see on the field.

Oh, and he can just imagine how you’d cry when he’d do so. He hates hearing people cry. After all, he’s haunted by the echoing sobs of someone lost to him in some distant, sun-stunned, sand-smothered land. But you? He doesn’t mind one bit. It’s another piece of you for him to consume, another piece of you that you can offer to him, gift to him, to bring you two together.

He knows how much it takes to be vulnerable, so he wouldn’t even be able to describe what he’d do to taste your tears. To savour your salty sadness upon his tongue and be able to offer comfort. To lick your face dry and hold you in his arms; warm body against warm body just like he’s daydreamed about.

The more time that passes, the further he falls.

On slightly rarer occasions, ones where he’s alone in the quiet of his room for longer than a human should be, he thinks about feeding your own lovingly cooked gore to you. Get’s him more riled up than he’d like to admit.

He can see it as clear as a freshly painted watercolour; a candle-lit dinner. Warm lighting. He’s tried his hardest to cover up the smell of his cigarettes for you, a scent that clings to his walls like mould, with roses. The smell of whatever he’s cooked for you permeating the air.

Soup sounds good, doesn’t it, love?

It’s a macabre yet intimate fairytale that finds its way into his thoughts when all else is quiet. Leaves him tossing and turning in his bed because the scraping just won't stop. He swears he's bleeding out from the inside, and he’ll break his own kneecaps from how long he’s been on the floor at your feet begging you to make it stop. To stop the scratching, the itching, the nagging feeling. For you to clean and stitch up his wounds, new and old.

He’s utterly enamoured with the thought. The idea of being that close to another human being. To be able to physically intertwine each other’s atoms through mutual consumption. To be sewn into the quantum patterns of your being. For you to feed him a proper meal like his parents never could.

He remembers being taught in his History class, the one with the old hag of a teacher who, with her droning words alone, convinced him not to take it for GCSEs, that in ancient times people used to eat each other as well. They did this so that in life, and eventually in death, the two of them would share an utterly unique bond, as well as each other's attributes.

He only really remembers that because his mates laughed at the idea of aristocratic Victorians eating mummies like it was a five-star meal for weeks after that lesson.

Even so, Ghost decides he could die happy on the field knowing that a part of you rested within him. That even when he was dead and gone, probably much earlier than he should be, you two would still be connected. He would have a piece of you, and you him.

And you, him. Mutual consumption. He doesn’t mind extra scars, extra wounds, because he knows you’ll lick them clean for him. Knows you wash them, stitch them up and check on them so they heal properly.

In the end, that is the intimacy he dreams of. The affection he wants from you.

His body is yours, as yours is his. Let him be yours. Let him feed. Let him fulfil you.

The idea leaves him with a small smirk on his face that Soap nudges him in the ribs for with a prodding grin of his own.

So, he makes a decision. For once, Simon and Ghost agree on something and work together as one instead of turning the other off for the greater good.

The decision? To feed. To finally know what it is like to be full instead of half-starved.

The scraping, the nagging, only grows stronger.

He makes it a point to bump into you as much as he can before his next mission.

Anywhere is a dinner table to him. On the crowded train, brushing his calloused hand against yours to ease the hunger for even a second. In the artificial lighting of the run-down corner shop, grabbing that bag of snacks that are just out of reach for you. Anything. Anything will do. But it only temporarily satiates the pang, doesn’t satisfy it. He just gets hungrier and hungrier and hungrier.

He knows you’ve begun to notice him. You’re getting hungry too. He just hopes it’s in the same way he hungers for you. He hopes you’re hungry for him, and him alone.

At first, you attempt to offer him platonic comfort, which, God above, tastes so sweet. You offer soft touches on his shoulder. You gift your fingers intertwining with his as you cross the street to his home because he’s gone off on another bender trying to stop turning over in his bed and seeing the inside of a coffin that he has to dig his way out of again.

‘N you’re just some poor night owl who’s trying to be kind.

It becomes a routine. Both for you and him. You know he’ll come out of the pub at quarter to one and you know he’s expecting you. You’ll walk the same walk to his home, fumbling with his keys as he looks at you with the softest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man, hands intertwined. You’ll still carry him home and close the door softly with your foot as you lay him on his couch and get him a glass of water and whatever painkiller he has lying around. You’ll still stay as he chats, drunkenly, to you. You’ll take care of him and he’ll be whole again, for just a moment.

At least until the morning comes, anyways.

He hungers for your touch the same way water hungers for the cavities of people’s lungs. Hungers for your skin like he hungers for the nicotine in his cigarettes. Hungers and begs and pleads until you both fall like Icarus; wax melting and dripping off your backs as you try and crawl your way back to the sun, back to the light, while he drags you down into the depths of the deep blue.

It's almost poetic.

In the midst of your drowning, the front door opening startles you out of your stupor. You do that a lot, Simon notes. You’ll black out and stare at a wall for hours, whether it be to awkward silence or a piece of music. He doesn’t question it, verbally, at least. From how easily you dissociate, he’d say it's something you picked up a long time ago. He’ll find out when, eventually.

Carefully, you get up from the couch, approaching him as he walks over to the kitchen counter. The blue plastic bag he has rustles loudly in the spotless kitchen.

“What’s that?” You ask, gently, placing a hand on his shoulder to get a better look.

Please give me more.

He lets out a knowing grunt and pulls out two round, red fruits. At first, you mistake them for apples, but the star-shaped top throws you off.

“Pomegranates?”

He nods, looking into your eyes for some sort of approval.

Gingerly, you take one of the pomegranates out of his hand, his fingers twitching as the pads of your digits brush against his. Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the fruit as you do so, careful to earn his compliance as you inspect the fruit.

I’ll take anything you give. Just please give me more.

They’re a deep red, almost crimson, and the shine reflects your face on its vermilion skin.

“Chopping board,” He pauses, “please?”

Nodding absent-mindedly, you place the fruit back into his cupped hands.

You open the drawer behind the both of you and pull out an old chopping board, red soaked and stained into the wood that Ghost just can’t seem to get out. You place it on the counter next to the pomegranates, along with a clean bowl he didn’t even hear you grab, and then find your way to the knife block. Hearing the subtle shink of a blade against wood, Ghost turns and scrutinizes you as you try to remember which knife is the fruit knife. Choosing the shortest one, you hold it by the handle, facing downwards just like Simon taught you, and place it on top of the chopping board with stitched-up hands and missing fingers from all the times he’s begged for more. From all the times you’ve said you have nothing more to give, but he knows you always have more.

I’ll take even the spare and broken bits. Just look at me. Touch me. Let me be full.

You watch, intently, as he delicately cuts the top of the pomegranate off, slicing through the thick skin. Gently, he peels the layers of the pomegranate back, kissing each one with the tips of his fingers, letting it stain them something beautifully violent. He reveals the soft viscera inside, glancing back over to you again and again. Looking for something in your eyes you’re not sure you can give. He cuts it into quarters, continuously surprising you how utterly gentle he is with it, but not down to the skin. Leaving it in a fileted star-like shape, he turns it upside down on the bowl, and, using his hand, slowly shakes the seeds off of the fruit into the bowl.

Once he’s finished, sure he’s got all of the seeds off, he sets the empty corpse aside and just…stares at the bowl of red.

The silence is deafening. You want to fill it.

Simon takes a bloody scoop of the red viscera with his right hand, letting the pinkish juice dribble down his hand, his forearm, and drip onto the immaculately clean counter.

The kitchen smells like bleach. It makes the back of your throat itch.

He offers his hand out towards you, like an olive branch, like some lurid type of eucharist, and, like the obedient dog you are, you feast.

“I love you.” He mumbles, fondly watching the muscle of your tongue dart out to catch the pinkish juice dribbling from your frothing maw.

Be full. Let me fill you, and in turn, you fill me. Feed on me until there is nothing left. Let us decompose, intertwined. Please. Just say you love me, too.

You’re eating, and you begin to repeat it, but Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley taught you well not to speak with your mouth full.

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Note- If anybody believes this needs the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag, please let me know. I've seen much more horrific works without the tag, but I'm mildly worried this is inching into the category.

I've spend the past week hearing Abbey by Mitski at every turn, so I wrote this out in an hour or two. I think if I heard that song or saw something about bloody pomegranates one more time I think I would've started chewing the flesh off of my own bones. Canabalism as a metaphor for love is a incredibly profound, and, in some ways, poetic literature device for the sheer destruction a toxic relationship can cause, so, I wanted to try my hand at it! And also to stop myself from clawing my face off from hearing anything about this canabalism metaphor from literally everywhere on the internet.

I apologise for this being description and inner monologue heavy. I wanted to focus on the horror aspects in this rather than the romance aspects, so I'm sorry if you didn't get what you came here for.

Do tell if this feels too out of character for Ghost. It was originally written for König, but I changed it last minute. Thank you for sitting down and reading my work! It means a lot <3

I'll leave it up to you if the metaphor is really a metaphor in the end.

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vamps-hmu · 1 year

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A doodle for an au me and @monnyq-q are making called Broken Bolts <3

Its an au where the reader uses springtrap for illegal bot fights on a mutual agreement (written by Mike themself LMAO)

#Springtrap #fnaf #springtrap x reader #Yea its an x reader #Reader is male #reader built Springtrap a new body #thats why he looks so different #no more corpse btw #Hes still Afton tho #reader is just as bad as Afton #my art #broken bolts

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crowleying · 2 years

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Tommy's Smile | m! reader

Date: 06.10.2022

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 2.120

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Harry Fenton

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Internalized homophobia, mention of war, mention of injury (nothing descriptive)

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Polly knows you and Tommy have been in love with each other for years, so she decides to take matters into her hands.

A/N: It's my first time writing for Peaky Blinders and with a male reader. I’m sorry for the requests still waiting in my inbox, my inspiration is all over the place.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct any mistake and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

[ID: a gif of Tommy Shelby smiling. End ID]

After the war, everything had changed. The men that had come back weren't the ones that had left. They were haunted by nightmares; they drank a lot more and smiled a lot less, especially Tommy. He used to smile all the times, so bright every room would light up. Now, however, he rarely ever did. At first, Polly had even thought he wasn't smiling at all, but then she started noticing. The first time it happened was just after she had scolded him in his office. As she was leaving, you walked in and greeted her. She had almost missed the childish, amused smiles you and his nephew had exchanged then, so similar to those you used to share back when you were fifteen and you had managed to do something mischievous. From then on, she kept a close eye on the two of you, but you were too lost in each other to notice.

You had grown together. You would always play together and were joined at the hip since you were little kids. You were like a son to Polly. She and your mother used to joke about the fact that if they called one of you, both of you would appear. Polly was convinced you were two bodies sharing one soul. She was sure of it when you started to fall for each other without even knowing. You were young back then, and she thought you would have time to get your shit together and admit your love to the other, so she didn't say anything.

When Tommy announced his intention to volunteer for the war, she had looked at you, expecting you to join him, and you were already standing, looking at Tommy.

"I'm coming too," you had said, when what you really wanted to say was "I'm coming with you, I'll follow you anywhere, Tommy." The two of you had been so lost in each other's eyes that Polly was sure you didn't even hear when John and Arthur said they would come too. She had prayed for all of you that night and every night and day until the day you came back.

The day you had left, while the women and little Finn hugged the Shelby brothers, Polly had taken you to the side at the train station to ask you to take care of Tommy, and taking care of him you did.

In France, you didn't let anyone come between you. A month in and every officer knew you two weren't to be separated. You would make sure Tommy was eating and would share cigarette after cigarette with him when he couldn't sleep. You still gave him reasons to smile. And you saved his life.

You were shoving him out of the way before even realizing what was happening. You didn't die that day in Tommy's arms, but it did change your life. As you were hit by the bullet aimed at Tommy, he was hit with the realization that life was too short to spend the entirety of it trying to ignore his feelings for you.

He didn't listen to any of the people who told him he couldn't stay by your side the whole time you spent in the hospital. He was finally left alone when John and Arthur convinced one of the officers that he would be of no use on the field if you weren't there by his side.

When you woke up in the middle of the night after the surgery, Tommy was there. And hidden by the dark, he kissed you for the first time.

Keeping your relationship hidden when living in such close quarters with so many people hadn't been easy. Coming home had meant you could finally kiss and hug and fuck. Nobody knew about your relationship, but you didn't mind and you understood why Tommy didn't want anyone to know. You respected that but dreaded the day people would start to get suspicious and he would have to marry some girl to avoid the rumours.

You had no idea someone suspected of your relationship, but Polly noticed it all: smiles, fleeting touches, glances, winks. She never thought she would see his nephew wink or you blush like that. You were Tommy's smile. You clearly made him happy. So she was having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that her nephew had yet to make a move on you. It seemed like her intervention was needed.

It was the end of the day. You were sitting on Tommy's desk, laughing at something he had said. He was lounging back in his chair, relaxed as he could only be around you. A cigarette was being passed between the two of you.

Polly barged into the office. You jumped up from your spot and Tommy straightened in his chair.

"Thomas, a word," she demanded, barely acknowledging your presence.

"I'll see you later at the Garrison," you said quickly to Tommy, before disappearing quickly out of the door without even waiting to see him nod.

You were always included in family meetings, and your opinions were held in high consideration, but you didn't want to intrude on Tommy's relationship with his aunt, not when Polly was like that.

Tommy's eyebrows arched as he watched Polly carefully, trying to understand what had gotten in her this time. He slowly killed his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Polly," he started cautiously, but before he could continue, his aunt spoke.

"When are you going to put an end to this foolishness, Thomas?"

Tommy's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about, Pol?" he asked, trying to sound more nonchalant than he felt. He leaned forward a bit. His hands gripped the armrests of his chair, bracing for the impact. He knew the moment would come, sooner or later, when he would have to choose between you and his family. But the time was here and he wasn't ready. He would never be.

"Don't play dumb, Thomas, you know what I'm talking about... This," she gestured to intend the relationship between the two of you.

"I don't follow," he said.

He took a cigarette from the case you had given him before the war. It had seen everything you two had gone through. He stroked the cigarette on his lips before setting it between them. The motion always made you weak. He lit it up to keep himself busy and try to calm down. There was no way she could know. she had to be talking about something else.

"You two are grown men. I didn't say anything when you were young. I thought you just needed time to figure things out, but it's been a while and nothing has changed."

He slowly exhaled the smoke, giving up all hope she could be talking about anything else. "How long have you known?"

"Years. You were sixteen and no matter how many girls tried to win you over, you only had time and eyes for him."

"He was my best friend!" he spitted through gritted teeth.

"One day, after you had spent the whole afternoon together in your room doing God knows what, you came to me and asked what was the difference between friendship and love, Thomas. Do you remember?"

He nodded slowly and cursed himself. If Polly knew, other people might find out. You were in danger. He needed to make sure you were safe, and then he would think about Polly.

Before he could spiral, Polly spoke again. "When will you grow a pair and just tell him you love him?"

He was surprised, to say the least. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand to stop him. "I know you are afraid people won't respect you anymore if they find out or that someone will try to hurt him to get to you. All I'm saying is you can be open with your own family, Tommy. He deserves this, and you do too."

He closed his mouth, then opened it again. "What if Arthur tells someone when he is drunk, eh? What if little Finn goes around telling someone thinking it's no big deal?"

Polly shook her head and smiled gently. "Do you really think you can hide that forever? With the way you look at each other? I don't think so, Tom."

She turned to leave, but before she could, Tommy's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Is this your way to say you approve?" he asked.

She looked at her nephew and for a moment she saw the sixteen years old he once was, with those big blue eyes, that were your damnation, wide, looking for approval. She smiled and left.

That was a lot and completely unexpected. Tommy fell back into his chair and ran a hand over his face.

When he walked into the Garrison, Polly was already there, sipping a whisky at the counter. He nodded at Harry to have his whisky in the private room. He didn't notice you sitting at a secluded table, uncomfortably close to a girl John had introduced to you upon your arrival. However, when he saw you weren't in the little room with his brothers, he panicked, already expecting the worst.

"Where is he?" he demanded. His brothers stopped laughing at something, to look at him confused and worried. "Who?" Arthur cautiously asked, irritating Tommy further.

"Your lover is sitting on the other side of the room with a girl your brothers so kindly introduced to him," Ada piped up from her spot, a fake smile on her face and her arms crossed. Her eyes bore into him. She knew too. Damn, the women of that family.

Arthur and John's faces were comically confused.

Tommy stormed out of the room and spotted you. Your head snapped up when you heard the door bang open. Your eyes widened as he made his way over to you with long steps. He looked unstoppable and scary. That was probably what anyone else saw when they laid their eyes on Tommy Shelby. Everyone was looking at him, trying to understand what was going on. Harry winced behind the bar, already picturing the place after the fight that would very likely take place there in a matter of minutes.

Ada, John and Arthur had followed their brother out of the room and had stopped at the door to see what would happen.

He came to a stop in front of you.

"Tommy," you uttered, trying to find the words to explain the situation. You had tried to convince John that you didn't need help finding a girl, but Shelbys would never take no for an answer.

"Mister Shelby," a sickly sweet and flirty voice interrupted the staring contest. The girl next to you leaned forward to introduce herself to your boyfriend, whose complete attention was on you. He pushed her back into her chair. She let out an outraged cry, but he ignored her in favour of grabbing the front of the suit you were wearing, one you had bought together, and pulled you into a kiss. You didn't hear the gasps and murmurs coming from around you. You relaxed and your hands fell to his hips. You kissed him back until you both needed to breathe. You gave him the brightest smile, winning one back.

He wrapped an arm around your hips and turned towards the onlookers.

"This man is mine, and if any of you fuckers tries to take him away from me or says something nasty about him, I'll cut you personally."

The room was so silent you were sure you could have heard a pin drop.

"By order of the Peaky fookin' Blinders!" Arthur roared from the other end of the room.

Polly and Ada smiled.

"Fucking finally, Tom!" John chimed in, grinning. And just like that, the tension in the room dispersed.

"Harry, open that bottle of champagne!" Arthur boomed, making Tommy laugh. You loved seeing him so happy and carefree. You promised yourself you would do everything you could to make sure he would always be like that.

You two made your way over to the private room to join the other Shelbys on the celebration. John patted your back. "Welcome to the family."

"Are you implying I wasn't part of it before?" you asked, pretending to be offended.

"No, of course not, you know..."

"Relax, Johnny boy, I'm just messing with you." You pulled his cap down his face, making Ada laugh.

She pulled you into a hug.

Tommy and Polly observed the exchange amused. "You were wrong about one thing," Tommy told her. His eyes didn't leave you.

"What's that?"

"We've been together for some years now."

She looked at him surprised. "Thomas Michael Shelby, you..." She slapped his arm, making him laugh.

"Let's make a toast," Arthur said, after filling the glasses and handing them around. Tommy wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

"To Tommy finally getting his shit together." Ada raised her glass and you laughed.

Tommy kissed your temple.

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blueberrypancakesworld · 7 months

Note

Jasper/Alice/Male reader

he feels he belongs in the mosh pit cause he typically goes to the mosh pit at concerts cuase he loves to mosh. Jalice aren't pleased about it

Jalice - Mosh pit

warning : tiny angst, fluff, no use of y/n

masterlist

Info : Thanks for the request have fun reading

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The night hung over the festival. The large site near Forks had been set up provisionally. But the lack of comfort did not bother anyone. For everyone it was only important that their favorite band played.

The fans were in a good mood and the musicians were just smashing away. But they got that at the annual several weeks running Forks Music Festival.

The loud music penetrated the ears of the cold creature let him almost go deaf and it almost be too much. But the feeling of feeling the heartbeat of others around him. To somehow feel alive again.

The loud music of the band took him in while he let himself be pushed back and forth in the mosh pit. Always further and further lost in all this and the joy of the music the former human being came back to him.

But even though he felt this need inside of him, this hunger every time he put his hands around the bodies around him for a fraction, it was also the joy that went through him. Finally the festival season was upon us again.

The late summer nights had returned and he and the other creatures could go outside longer at night. Since they went in the summer usually always away in darker areas. But that was now no matter finally he was back here and could not be happier.

Would not there with in the crowd this one smell hanging. Sweetish and yet slightly tart he came to the vampire woke up in him again the sense. Something he could not resist the eyes that became dark black and barely visible in the crowd.

His body that did not move with the same movements as the others moved hungrily towards the bleeding person in the crowd. An elbow had landed on the woman's nose and blood was running from her nose.

Just a small injury in such a large crowd in a mosh pit where people have been injured before. But for the cold creature it was everything. Touching as his finger stretched out to the woman, he suddenly heard two voices in all the crowd.

They seemed familiar to him and yet in his mind the woman's blood seemed all the stronger. He almost had her, would only have to move a little further and then.

But before he could strike, four hands had grabbed him and pulled him out of the crowd at a speed that the people did not notice. ,,Are you still okay? What's gotten into you?" asked Alice who let go of him and the blond Jasper still pressed the common friend of the two against the tree.

He looked at his two beloved ones, saw the worry and something like fear in their eyes.

Although the third of them was newborn and had been for a few weeks, it was still difficult to get used to the new life. ,,Into me? Alice I have lived the moshpit, the music...the people they are good for me" he countered and looked helpfully at Jasper. He had rarely seen their common love Alice so excited, so grown up, so serious.

But Jasper shook his head, his blond curls bobbing, before he said, ,,No, Alice is right, you are dead...you are one of us, a vampire, an undead," before he let him go. Alice sighed even though she didn't have to in her condition.

She closed her eyes for a moment before he intertwined her hand with that of her two lovers. ,,I know it's difficult...that it's all so new and unfamiliar. But you-you are no longer human, my star. You are one of us," she reminded him gently, squeezing his hand lightly. Jasper also gave the other a loving look. The words hit him and yet he knew that they were right. He had chosen the path to be with his two loved ones.

To be with Alice and Jasper. ,,You're right...when I'm ready then...you come with me and we'll go to the mosh pit together" he suggested and saw how the other two agreed Alice seemed to be clearly excited before she said ,,A vampire mosh pit!" she called happily and Jasper couldn't help smiling.

Even if the three vampires had to fight forever with the thirst for blood, there was one thing that would stand against it. The love.

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#twilight saga #twilight movies #twilight alice #alice cullen #twilight jasper #jasper whitlock #jalice #alice cullen x reader #jasper cullen x reader #reader is male #amab reader #no use of y/n

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maskedauthor16x · 5 months

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Apathy is a tragedy and Boredom is a Crime. Part 1

Reader is Male

MC/Yuki is Gender Neutral

Reader is NOT MC!

Demon Male Reader x Obey Me! Shall We Date

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Kindly do not comment things like "I'm a girl but..." or "I'm reading this even if I'm a girl!" Etc.

P.s- Sorry if this ain't your cup of tea (⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)

_______________________________________________

(Name) was a simple demon, that's what he liked to call himself.

He was one of the very few that didn't fall under a Capital Sin group.

He instead was the embodiment of Indifference and Apathy.

Whenever he was asked why he was like that, he gave a simple and short answer. "I don't know and I don't care."

He was always told he was cruel. Cruel? Him?

He didn't hurt people physically like other demons.

He didn't try to emotionally scar anyone for the rest of their lives.

But there was reason why he was considered cruel.

After all....

"Indifference was the strongest force in the universe.

It makes everything it touches meaningless.

Love and Hate stand no chance against it."

"And then I managed to snag it without em noticin!" The greed demon bragged.

_______________________________________________

Yuki was smiling as they talked to Mammon.

Yuki chuckled. "They might come and catch you though, can't they?"

Mammon scoffed. "Ain't no one catchin the Great Mammon!"

Yuki suddenly bumped into someone, thankfully Mammon managed to catch them before they fell to the floor.

"(Name)..." Mammon whispered. "You're back...?"

(Name) just ignored his question, peeking at the human in the greed demon's grasp. "Wow, Diavolo was NOT kidding when he said he's bringing a human here for an exchange program, huh? Go figure."

"Who are you?" Yuki spoke up, they didn't know why but this new demon's mere presence made them feel a bit afraid. Of what exactly? They didn't know but they were going to find out.

The other merely offered a toothy grin. "(Name), pleased to meet the fabled human I been hearing so much about." He put his hands into his jacket pockets, his posture relaxed.

"You know Mammon?"

Mammon replied instead. "Of course he knows me! Everyone knows the Great Mammon!"

"There you have it, I guess." (Name) didn't bother adding anything else.

"Also cause we go like wayyy back, human." Yuki made a noise of interest at the greed demon's words.

"What sin do they fall under?" Yuki then asked.

"He doesn't." Mammon looked back at (Name) who seemed to be in his own world.

"What? But then he-"

"Sort of like Barbatos and Lord Diavolo, he is one of the few who don't have a sin. He's like that one gold coin in a treasure box of sea shells."

Yuki wanted to know more about this new and good looking demon.

"Then...what is he?"

Mammon's smile tightened. "Indifference or Apathy."

Yuki knew what that implied. "Indifference is the greatest tragedy a human soul can suffer..." they muttered.

Mammon merely nodded. "Often demons think (Name) is weak simply because he doesn't seem to care for the worlds he sees before 'im. In reality, indifference and apathy are often comparable ta death itself."

"So he's a dangerous demon, is that it?"

"I advise ya to never be alone with him, Yuki. Only we can handle 'im without being affected much."

Mammon's eyes trailed to his old...friend. "So...(Name)...what brings you back into the Devildom?"

"A lil birdie told me that a certain exchange student manage to sweep all of you off your feet, and frankly I found that to be really funny."

Yuki didn't know whether that was an insult or not.

Mammon stepped forward. "(Name)...we-"

"Spare the bull, Mammon. I don't want to hear it." The demon's eyes gleamed in the simply lit hallway.

Mammon winced. "Please don't say it..."

"I genuinely don't care."

"And there it is..." Yuki was very confused. What was going on?

"Well now I'm bored again, so I'll be taking my leave. See you around human." With that the strange demon left them alone in the corridor.

"Mammon?"

Mammon simply smiled bitterly. "Classic (Name)..."

Yuki was definitely going to get to the bottom of this...

#obey me x male reader #obey me mammon #obey me mc #reader is male #reader is also a bit of an asshole #the assholeness will be more visible in later parts

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voiddrop · 2 years

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hallo! im new to ur blog and wanted to say i loved the ftm reader x adrian fic! now i raise you, adrian with an equally if not more feral s/o. like "bro wanna see my top surgery scars? i did it myself" "bro thats fucked up.... wanna go on a date?"

This has been sitting in my inbox for a little while because I had to drag my dumb little potato brain away from Spencer Reid, but look... I’mma just... just throw out some little head-canons because yes, yes this exactly.

Gif belongs to javier-pena

Adrian Chase with a Trans!Boyfriend that is also Feral(TM) would include...

You two just always being on the same wavelength, same thought process, eerily so.

“I was thinking we should-”

“Go bother Economos?”

“How did you know I was going to say that?!”

You’re just as, if not slightly more, unhinged than Adrian and at this point everyone is too afraid to ask where he found you.

Leota finally does ask and when Adrian answers, “Oh! We met by the dumpster’s behind Fennel Fields.” is anybody really surprised? No. You do have trash panda energy.

You don’t tell Adrian your Trans until a few weeks after you start talking, before you really start dating and he’s a little confused at first. Like I said before, I’m sure you’d have to explain the concept to him, as well as dysphoria, but he’d be very supportive.

“You were born in the wrong body so you made it the right body? Dude, that’s so cool.”

Very supportive boyfriend.

Your included dialogue made me snort but let me raise you: “Dude, how did you get those scars?”

“I fought gender and won.”

“Wait, really? That’s so fucking cool.”

Then he takes you on a date to Fennel Fields and you eat breadsticks together.

I feel like Chris would try to vet you, see if you’re worthy of Adrian’s attention... Cause even if Adrian isn’t his BFF, he still needs to make sure you’re not a threat to the team, ya know?

Is in your presence five minutes and just, “Dude, you’re even fucking crazier than Adrian.”

“Thanks, Chris, but you don’t have to hit on me.”

More than anything, this is a shit post, but let it be known that Adrian fucking loves you. He loves how much you understand him, how you just... get why he feels the way he does.

Not many people do.

But you do and that is just... baller.

#I dunno can you tell it's been a second since I wrote any Vig stuff?#But here you go #I tried #vigilante x reader #vigilante #adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #adrian chase x you #headcanons #adrian chase headcanons #x reader headcanons #trans reader #x reader #reader is male #reader is trans

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dearest-painter · 2 years

Text

I have no father(PT.1) male reader

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior,unhealthy relationship, abusive relationship,abusive behavior,Age gap??? I’m not sure who’s yandere yet except for some people so please request some,neglect,reader is dating Venom and posses Venom you know how Eddie posses venom? That type of posses,hate to Tony stark aka Reader’s dad,mentions of hickeys,mentions of scars not specified but they are from battles,BAD SPELLING!!,cussing. If I forgot any please inform me

Authors note:Peter and Reader are 18 just because I believe that’s how old you need to be to have your own apartment and for no other purposes,I do not do smut/lemons. Plus He/Him pronouns are being used for reader

Part 2

Keys:H/t = hair type,h/c = hair color,h/l = hair length,e/c = eye color,s/c = skin color I swear I’m not trying to be rude it just so that you have free range of your looks!!!

Y/N stark,the forgettable son that the world pitted. He hated the pity the world gave him they should pity him just because of what his ‘father’ decided to do. Luckily he has started living on his own..well kinda. Let’s travel with Y/N threw his day. Waking up,that hated action of Y/N but he knew it was apart of life so he dealt with the action and went on his day. Stretching his body he let out a yawn. “Morning sleeping beauty” “morning venom”

Y/N got out of bed and went to brush his teeth and take a shower which now seeing him in the mirror he didn’t look like his father,Tony stark that man he hated the most. He had h/t h/c which was h/l. His e/c eyes were still half open from not waking up fully,his s/c body covered with either scars or hickeys. Y/N was brushing his hair since he had just gotten out the shower and got dressed and saw venom. “Alright what’s wrong? You’ve been so quiet I thought you left me” “just thinking” “Mhm,believable story” “fine! Do we have to see your dad!?” “Sadly yes,we are anti hero’s who are some how with the avengers but we need meeting with them,it’s stupid” “your/you’re telling me sweetchecks” “NOT THAT NICKNAME!!” “IM BACK TO NORMAL BABY!!” “AHHHH!!!” The neighbors have gotten use to hearing the anti hero couple yell so it’s no use to do anything about it. The anti hero couple made their way to stark tower enjoying the quietness of New York City morning before it becomes active once again.

“Good morning Mr.Y/N and Mr.Venom” “morning” venom just glared while Y/N rolled his eyes at his supernatural husbands actions. “Sorry about him,he’s a grumpy parasite” “I’M NOT A PARASITE Y/N! WE HAVE TALKED ABOUT THIS!” “AND WE TALKED ABOUT YOUR MANNERS!!” Soon they both shut up as soon as they got into the elevator. Venom made his hand hold Y/N which Y/N just smiled at the action,venom wasn’t known for being kind but that side was only saved for Y/N and just him. Venom will be damed if anyone tried to take HIS husband! Venom will kill anyone he needs to just to keep Y/N to himself forever and forever more.

Soon the elevator stopped and they walked out to see the rest of the avengers and sadly,Tony. “Morning Y/N” “morn’ Pet” Y/N yawned again. “Still sleepy?” “You bet” Y/N started to drink coffee and after he drank some he got chocolate out and left it open. Everyone expected Peter Parker or Spider-Man was confused until venom appeared and started to eat it. “Y/N STARK WHAT IS THAT!?” “Hm? This? It’s coffee from Starbucks” “no not that! The other thing’ that’s eating the chocolate!” “Oh! My husband Venom? Yeah that’s him,apparently he’s not a parasite he’s a symbiote whatever the fuck that is” “YOUR MARRIED TO IT!?” “YOU MEAN HIM AND YES THE FUCK I AM!” Tony and Y/N argued. “YOU CAN’T BE MARRYED TO HIM!!” “WHY THE FUCK NOT!?” “BECAUSE I’M YOUR FATHER AND I SAID SO AND PLUS I NEVER GAVE HIM BLESSINGS AND ALSO HE EATS PEOPLE!” “NOT ANYMORE!! I TAUGHT HIM NOT TO! AND ALSO I HAVE NO FATHER! YOU NEGLECTED ME ALL MY LIFE TO THE POINT THE WORLD PITTED ME AND I HATE IT SO MUCH SO GO SUCK A DICK AND FUCK YOURSELF!!” Y/N left the room leaving all of the avengers in silent other then the cussing from Y/N getting quieter and quieter by the step. “You fucked up stark”

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #romantic yandere #yandere x male reader #male reader #yandere marvel #I have no father series #reader is male #amab reader #reader is amab #yandere marvel x male reader

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floral-poisons · 1 year

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kind of wanna reinforce this here. because i’ve seen ai writing become so popular on tik tok.

ai writing is not okay.

it’s literally theft. just like how ai art steals, ai writing steals. it’s using authors’ very real work to generate whatever you type in. and this also needs to be said as well.

writing is a form of art. fanfiction is a form of literature.

seeing this all over my fyp is REALLY discouraging. fanfic itself is already a labor of love and we love it when you interact. but please do not use ai writing for your fanfic needs when this writing literally steals from fanfic authors.

genuinely don’t know if this post will go around because my interactions outside of hcs are shit, but i hope it does.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #ai #ai writing #ai art #ai art is stolen art #fanfic #x reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #anime

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v1x3n · 1 month

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mellowwillowy · 6 months

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A Husband Duty (GN, NSFW)

Instead of another normal love making session, you ask him to do more to you (FIC, junkie reader, IMG., more in Husband...)

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Husband who just loves you so much that it turns into another worshipping session instead of fucking you raw without any condom on.

Yan! Husband who just eats you out / gives you head nonstop until you are overstimulated, the whole bed is wet with your cum and drool, his boxer drenched in cum as he ruts himself against the bed sheet.

Yan! Husband whose fingers teased the insides of your clenching hole, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and eyes roll to the back. Yes, just loll out your tongue and he'll take it for granted with his mouth, sucking and licking it while he relishes in the way you whine.

Yan! Husband who will actually cum undone just from lapping up your sweet nectar, drinking it all like a thirsty man who is lost in the Sahara desert.

Yan! Husband who refuses any of your attempts in giving him head, nuh-uh, he wants to focus on you and you only. He is already wetting his boxer with his cum, what more do you want? Splatter it all over your face and hair? He'd be so fine with just your hole ♡

Yan! Husband whose cock twitches so much when it is only the tip that enters you, imagine the whole thing filling you full and deep, he is already shaking from the ejaculation, cumming deep inside you. Do you think he is done as a '5 second, take it or leave it?'

Yan! Husband who has a questionable way of ejaculating but his stamina is not to be doubted. He will pound himself deep into you while his sperm paints your insides white. Every time he pulls out, the cum would immediately pool out from your hole only to be refilled with another. (Honestly, as expected from someone inhumane)

Yan! Husband who will not stop kissing you, be it your face, lip, body, or anything as long as it's you. Can you imagine the amount of hickeys you'll be waking up to? These will surely show the servants and others just how cherished you are in his hand.

Yan! Husband who will coax more of your sweet moans, pushing your limit further with every session you have with him, yes, he will fuck you till the sun rises if you can accommodate to him. The idea of it makes his cock twitches again, he needs to be clamped tight by you.

Yan! Husband who will not stop abusing your sex, pleasuring you with his fingers as he gives you a second stimulation while he is still hammering his cock into you.

"W-why, why do you have so much c-cum, in you-!?"

"I don't know dear, maybe it's because of you. You are driving me nuts every day!"

Yulian is such a healthy man ^^ how much litter does he have left to fill you up? Ah, the bulge... it's so arousing to see your stomach bulging with his cock and cum.

Yan! Husband, the King of Aftercare, bathing you with the finest body care, roses floating while his face nuzzled up in your neck. Please, don't do anything you will regret, you don't want him to hammer his cock into you again, the whole bathtub might be his cum instead!

Yan! Husband who kisses you to sleep, letting you rest after hours of fucking you dumb. It seems like the euphoria is gone and he has regained his sanity, evident from how he's thinking how to cover all these hickeys and bite marks.

Yan! Husband who presses his lip to all those marks, kissing it better while occasionally licking some.

Maybe he shouldn't help you cover it after all.

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unorthodoxfaithxx · 2 months

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Crybaby yandere boyfriend when he thinks you’re cheating

He is running errands around town when he sees what he thinks is you out and about with another man. Weren’t you at work today? Why were you at the cafe? Who is he? Are you seeing someone else?

Don’t you know nobody else can love you like he does? Why are you doing this to him when he loves you so much?

The thought has him sick to his stomach and he nearly loses his lunch as a result.

When you return home later that evening, he tackles you as soon as you close the door shut. His eyes are red from crying, and you immediately express your concern over him.

“Do you love me still? Am I doing something wrong? What can he do what I can’t?”

You ask him what he’s talking about but he just shakes his head in frustration.

With a sniffle, he hugs you tightly, too tight to the point you can’t move or escape his grasp even if you wanted to.

“No, no. I know you love me. You HAVE to. I love you too. More than I can say. We belong together!” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, “Maybe you just need some more convincing.”

With a squeal from you, he’s lifting you off your feet and into his arms, bridal style. He carries you into the bedroom before throwing you on the bed and locking the door. After, he climbs onto the bed and on top of you, eyes watering again.

“I just got to show you, right? What I can give you. What you’d be missing.”

His lips immediately hit yours, body weight leaning all the way into you so you feel crushed underneath him. The two of you share a heated kiss, with him growling your name under his breath. When he takes his hoodie off and throws it on the floor, you know he’s serious.

He nibbles on your neck and holds your hands in a way you can’t let go.

”I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think of anything else but me.”

#yandere #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere writing #yandere male #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons

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youronlydarlin · 2 months

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Just Loser! Simon who's unknowingly a sex god

He says shit like "Did that feel good..?" everytime you two fuck. As if he didn't just give you the most back arching, toe curling, brain numbing orgasm of your life.

You'd be panting like a dog beneath him, eyes rolled to the back of your skull and still he'd be asking "How's that feel..?" Like sir. This isn't UberEATS, why do you keep asking that? Do you want five stars??

#cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader smut #x gn reader #x female reader #x male reader

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yandere-writer-momo · 21 days

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Yandere Head Canons:

Sacrificial Bride

Yandere Dragon Shifter x Princess Reader

TW: Yandere behavior, manipulation, Somniaphilia (suggested), delusional yandede, complacency, etc.

Feroc the Ferocious was the kind of dragon who would bring any silly knight to their knees. The kind of dragon that inspired legends and stories to be written in books. The kind of dragon that was larger than any castle human like could ever dream to build. The kind of dragon that could decimate a kingdom with a single breath of his fiery flames if he was angered… the dragon that your own people sacrificed you, the princess, to in order to save themselves from his wrath.

And so they bound you up and threw you before him. Your own father on his knees as he begged the great dragon for mercy in exchange for his own flesh and blood… the kingdom’s most prized beauty in exchange for peace. An offer Feroc quickly accepted before the king could utter another word!

Dragons collected beautiful treasures! Dragons hoarded their treasure in caves and abandoned castles fad from prying eyes… and unbeknownst to you, Feroc found you to be rhetorical most beautiful

For dragons, a sacrificial spouse was an ancient tradition and this was the first time he’d been offered such a perfect bride! How could he refuse you? Especially when your own people begged him so prettily? Would you beg for him just as beautifully one day?

And so you were scooped up in his ginormous talons and carried away in the sky to a lone tower deep in the mountains. Your new home… your home with Feroc.

You could recall how scared of him you used to be. You’d heard from many people of how this giant scaled beast before you was a man eater. Of how he swallowed many knights in his time… yet this dragon seemed so shy from your experience so far. Skittish even.

Feroc often brought you various jewelry and fine silks from his daily raids. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t bring you a gift of some kind. His molten eagerly studied your form despite his persistent silence. Feroc’s company disturbed you as much as it comforted you.

It took a month for him to speak to you. His accent was heavy from the olden tongue he spoke but he knew the same language you spoke. His voice was booming and low, it could easily strike terror in others… but for some reason, his voice calmed you. Perhaps loneliness has finally crept its fangs into your heart? You weren’t sure…

Feroc would bring you anything you wanted to eat. Within means, of course. He’d bring you delicacies he’d likely looted off some poor caravan if you said you wanted sweets. There was no extremes he wouldn’t go to for you, which was odd since he was a dragon who’s been around for hundred of years… why did Feroc have such an interest in a human princess?

One day, you had a nightmare of a man standing in the corner of your room. Your scream in the night quickly alerted your guardian who peaked his large eye in your room in worry.

“Princess? What’s wrong?”

“I just had a nightmare… I thought there was a man in my room.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead while Feroc clicked his tongue.

“No man could ever scale his tower. I’m the only one who can enter. I’d never let anyone harm you.” The red and black dragon grumbled, his molten eyes glanced you once over. “Why? Do you… want a human companion?”

“I do get lonely sometimes.” You admitted to Feroc . His eyes now filled with hurt. “I do enjoy your company but… I miss being able to touch another human.”

Feroc didn’t understand your sentiment. He was a might dragon! The strongest of his kind! Feroc has proven himself to be the best of mates to you and yet you were still displeased? Was it because he was a dragon? Would you be happier if he showed you his other form?

“I’ll figure something out then… get some sleep.”

Feroc now snuck in your bedroom when you slept. He ghosted his clawed fingers over your oblivious form in wonder. His clawed fingers were too sharp, he’d have to dull them more… he didn’t want to cut up his pretty princess!

Feroc’s gentle touches progressed when he noticed how heavy of a sleeper you were. His desire to see what made you human drove him to insatiable heights. No area was left unexplored with his eyes. He needed to be perfect. Feroc had to be compatible with you. You and him were going to have young one day, after all! Feroc didn’t want to harm you in the process!

Feroc was able to mold his body into a perfect man. Once that was the perfect size for you, yet still immense so you’d know it was him. Feroc now stood at a massive seven feet tall rather than the hundred feet of his dragon form.

Yet there was a constant fear within him that you’d die of old age or of natural causes… Feroc knew humans were fragile creatures so he did what he had to. Feroc shared half of his heart with you while you slept. It was a simple spell and a painless procedure for you. One that would benefit the both do you in the long run!

If one of you died, the other would! You’d never age! You now shared a lifespan with him. Feroc couldn’t wait to tell you once the two of you made everything official!

It took another month for him to reveal this perfect form to you. Feroc had to let the excitement die down from sharing his heart with you so you didn’t freak out! Humans were such finicky creatures, after all! And he’d be an awful mate if he frightened you with a subject you had no knowledge on…

All you needed was to see this devilishly beautiful form of his and you’d be bewitched.

“Look at us… we’re so beautiful together.” Feroc whispered into the skin of your shoulder as he admired your reflection beside him. “I think I’ll find you more gold to decorate you with, my treasure.”

“Feroc, I don’t understand.” You jump when Feroc dragged his forked tongue across your exposed shoulder.

“You accepted all of my gifts and you’re the only one who suits me.” Feroc hissed his obsidian eyes flashed a bright gold. “Wouldn’t you rather be by my side than in my stomach?”

You gulped and obediently rested your head on his chest which made him purr in contentment. His muscular arms wrapped around yours as his wavy black hair tickled your skin.

“I’m joking, I’d never eat you.” Feroc smiled before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re my bride, after all.”

You didn’t need to know about how many knights he’s killed over the last few months for you. Feroc would take care of you until the day the both of you died. Every heinous act he’s ever committed over these last few months we’re all for his beautiful, blushing bride.

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blueberrypancakesworld · 3 months

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Hii, I was wondering If you could write a story about The Lost Boys x male reader where the reader has a panic attack caused by a long period of stress and his nose starts bleeding so heavily that he has trouble breathing. Sorry if this doesn't make sense Have a good day/night

We are here - Lost Boys x m!reader

warning : panic-attack, comfort, blood, some angst

Info : Thank you anon for the request (it was about time that I wrote something for the Lost Boys again) hope you and other enjoy this a little more angsty piece of work. Have fun reading :)

masterlist

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There was a shudder again, a sound the rapid beating of his heart that he knew at first was nothing wrong but at that moment it just became too much. it had simply become too much. everyone had a limit until they collapsed, whether from lack of sleep, loss or stress.

Stress that had been keeping him awake for months, his work taking too much out of him and only making it worse. Coffee had little or no effect when he fell asleep at the first sip, only to wake up in the middle of the night and not know where he was.

His heart was beating rapidly, letting him know that he was overdoing it with the artificial wakefulness and that his body was crying out for sleep. But when his eyes settled on the bright screen in front of him, the computer showed new messages and when he saw his boss's name, he knew it only meant more work.

,,I-I-no…i can't take any more" he stammered and he felt his heart beat faster, fear settled into his body and tears welled up in his eyes this aftermath, the work, the environment all became too stressful he couldn't take any more and as the first tear flowed he felt a sting in his nose followed by a tickling sensation.

In his soaked face, the pain inside him and holding on to his chair, he barely noticed the blood running out of his nose, staining his sweater and his work papers. It was a sight the four vampires had never seen before as they came in through the window to their boyfriend.

What was supposed to be a night of fun fell silent as the four of them found their bat, as they always called him. ,,Hey hey hey bat, take it easy, come here," Paul said and knelt down by the younger boy's chair, gently taking the bloodied bat's egg with his cold hands and starting to stroke it.

Dwayne was already on his way to the bathroom to fetch a towel to wipe up the blood and moisten it. While David was in the kitchen looking for emergency snacks to distract his lover's thoughts, he seemed to be trying to get him out of this state.

While Marko lifted his little bat out of the chair as gently and slowly as he could and placed it on the bed. The vampires moved back to their beloved. ,,Here's something sweet," David said gently and placed the bowl next to him before sitting down next to Dwayne on the other side, who wordlessly asked if he could clean him up.

The crowds around him slowly eased, the voices stopped buzzing and the beeping stopped and when he heard Marko humming and Paul joining in he slowly calmed down.

The sweetness of the snalcks and the voice of his beloved slowly drew him back. ,,Welcome back…don't worry you're taking a long break," David ordered and the others joined in softly before they all moved to the bed and cuddled up to him.

,,Thank you guys, I really appreciate it," he murmured and snuggled up to the four of them, feeling his body come down from the hoc and when he closed his eyes he found not only peaceful sleep but also support in the arms of the four of them, something he hadn't had for a long time - no stress.

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#the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #tlb david #tlb dwayne #tlb paul #tlb marko #reader is male #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko

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queenie-the-court-jester · 24 days

Text

yandere bunny hybrid x reader

A/n: the Intro was rushed because I got too excited to write the smut. Not proofread 🌺

Tw: noncon turns to dubcon, androgynous breeding kink, little dirty talk, he's a horny bastard. Mommy kink but it can be applied to any gender. Slapping body parts, he has a minor lactation kink. Mdni please!

★you met the little furball while you were out on a evening walk. It was the middle of winter and being cooped up inside the house all day was starting to get a little claustrophobic

★you didn't notice him at first since he blended in with the snow. Stopping mid-walk when you heard a weak little whine coming from behind you. Slowly turning around, you saw a pair of red eyes staring at you from beneath the snow

★approaching them slowly, you could finally see him more clearly. Milky white skin turning a light blue due to hypothermia. He didn't have the strength to run when you picked him up. Patting his head, you headed back home.

★giving him a warm bath and setting him next to the fireplace, you slowly nursed him back to health. He was very reluctant at first, but your touch was too comforting to pull away from. He hasn't felt this safe since he was just a baby bun! He stayed with you nearly the entire winter

★midway he starts to get himself familiar with your home, peeking under furniture and into rooms, he seemed to understand you when you'd ask him questions in English

"what's your name little fella?"

"cotton.."

★eventually you had to let him go back into the wild, just a month before spring arrived. He was reluctant but with enough convincing he finally left. Looking back at you from the forest edge, watching you wave goodbye with that beautiful smile he loves

❣️cotton who goes into heat early because he can't stop thinking of you. Burrying himself in his burrow, humping the air. Nothing is as soft as you and your bed. Nothing can make him feel as safe as your touch does

❣️he shoos any females who wish to mate away. Claiming he already has a mate. Oh he wished you'd come into the forest looking for him, to take care of him again as he fills your tight little hole up with his cum

❣️he spends most of his time shamelessly masturbating to the thought of you. His entire heat cycle has been on loop since he left, so finally gathering the balls he heads back to your cottage. Watching you from a distance, lazily stroking his already sensitive cock.

★just minding your business, you don't notice the certain bunny hybrid approaching slowly. You don't have much time to react before a familiar mop of white hair tackles you to the ground. Desperately humping your clothed sex as he whines and grunts.

"cotton!? What the hell are you doing!?"

"hah- nhg need.. mate.. pretty mate.. need to breed! Ohh!"

★you tried pushing him off, but when did he get so strong!? Pining your arms down and ripping your clothes off, wasting no time in lapping at your genitals. Eating you out like a starved man, sucking and nipping your inner thighs until he's sure you're nice and lubed up

★he carefully pressed the tip in, but he doesn't last long as he slowly sinks deeper into your gummy walls. Letting go of your arms and roughly grabbing your hips, which were sure to bruise later, brutally fucking your brains out. Slapping your chest and privates as he grinds his cock deeper

★he keeps going even after he's ripped multiple orgasms out of you. The pleasure slowly chipping off your resistance. Leaving you a blubbering moaning mess under the bunny. A pool of his cum under where your sexes kept meeting.

★it doesn't matter what gender you are, he's determined to breed you until you're swelling with his children. He couldn't wait to suck and bite your chest once it was swollen with milk!

"gonna be so pretty- mph! So pretty, all swollen 'n fat with my babies.. gonna be a good mate, right? G-gonna give me lots of 'em right? Oh ohhh! Cumming again! 'Yer squeezing all my cum out! Mommy!!"

★let's just say that you should get use to your new roommate husband, because now there's no way of getting rid of him. Ever.

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