#so he just lets all his crazy flow wild and free in the wind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doodlesbf · 1 year

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Sorry I couldn't really find your writing rules, so feel free to just junk this if you dont want to write about it!

I was wondering if youve got any headcanons or ideas to share for all the links (except wind hes best younger bro) falling in love with reader?

Specifically a chaotic reader, unless thats too much!, like "get on top of a guardian and hack into it and ride it around" type of chaotic lmao

So like that happens and theyre all like "damn.. theyre crazy, but i guess im chaossexual or smth bc that was attractive" lol

Again if that's too much, or u wanna omit stuff, u could just do them reacting to chaotic reader!

(Bonus points if its a male reader bc theyre simply isnt enough out there 😫 anyway take my heart for making a link universe ask blog love it sm🤲💙)

-♒️

*Hello there and sorry I'm kindof new to writing rules so I'll write out the rules on a later time. Yes there not alot of linked universe ask blogs but its wonderful how people posts on ^w^* * enjoy this headcanon, sorry if took a long time .*

Headcanon of chain falling in love with a chaotic male reader

Time

Time just let the male reader be when he's chaotic but is watchful of him but knows when to stop the male reader if it necessarily.

If the male reader is in danger due to his chaotic personality he's the first to walk over to pick the male reader up and walk away with him from the Danger.

Time feel like he age by ten years more but he fall in love with his male reader cause their chaotic personality and likely the male reader always the one stick to time

Time like *I can't believe I'm falling in love with him but he's my chaotic boyfriend *

Sky

Sky is a mother hem but knows he can't stop his chaotic boyfriend even if he trys

Sky have fallen in love with the chaotic male reader during the journey

Sky the one that hold the male reader back from doing something too chaotic

Sky always call his male reader *chaotic gremlin* in a loving way even tho his boyfriend is cover in monster guts

Warrior

Warrior like time on keep a eye on his chaotic male reader but is likely looking for a leash that can hold him back from going to dangerous places

Warrior is harder to show romantic even falling in love since his past relationship/ stalker problems but if he fallen in love with the chaotic male reader, it's a hard one but will eventually embrace it. Warrior would call his male reader *the chaotic devil* and there's a reason why too

Warrior will likely ask his chaotic male reader to pull pranks on the other soldiers or allow it since he knows if his male reader is bored or not

Warrior end up asleep faster when he have him in his arms or warrior end up trap in his boyfriend arms but he isn't bother by it not one bit

Twilight

Twilight will likely *try* have his chaotic male reader to job watching the children since the children in Twilight village are chaotic as well

He trys to keep chaotic male reader out of trouble but sometimes it's a hit or swing situation

Twilight falling in love during the journey as well but is bit defensive about love but give it a try anyways

Twilight call his chaotic male reader *darling*

Wild

Wild and male reader are chaotic demons anywhere and anyplace on the battle or even on rest stops even they both sleep talk together in a chaotic way too

Wild may have a bit of chaotic energy but is not match for his male reader but is fell hard in love just weary since his memories but just follow the flow of things

Wild calls his chaotic male reader by * Jersey Devil* and the chaotic male reader call wild by *wild one* both in a loving way

Time,twilight and warrior are the ones to try stop the two chaotic boys

Legend

Legend leaves male reader be since he have no idea on how to stop him once male reader is chaotic setting

Legend the first to nope out the chaotic male reader pranks since he knows that the reader's prank are overly chaotic or straight up end up covered in pink glitter or worse

Legend is the hardest to fall in love since people he falls for end up *like his games the person he fall for died or don't exist *

Legend calls male chaotic reader * chao of glitter *

Hyrule

Poor hyrule, he have no idea on how chaotic the male reader can be so he's worrying yet knows to let him do his thing

Hyrule's fairy sisters enjoy the chaotic male reader and his pranks

Hyrule the first to fall in love and is the most clueless on how to approach this new romantic feelings on the chaotic male reader so there's lots of errors,blushing and he get teased alot by the chain

Hyrule call his chaotic male reader *chaotic fairy*

Four

Four have so many headaches not only the colors but the male reader

Four doesn't allow his male reader near his forge at all due to male reader chaotic personality but he fallen in love with his chaotic male reader

If four split and the colors are out blue the one to try get the chaotic male reader to training than cause problems, green and red join in on the chaotic male reader on pranks while violet just watches and take in the chaotic that happening with the four chaoticish boys

Four call his chaotic male reader * Menace of chao* in his way and loving too

#doodle talk #doodle reply #♒️ anonymous #linked universe #linked universe time #linked universe warriors #linked universe wild #linked universe legend #linked universe sky #linked universe twilight #linked universe hyrule #first ask box^^

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waluijoe · 1 year

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ok ok im doing the ji//m/in music review of 2023 here cause that way i can let it out also i’m a music nerd and i’m obsessive and unhinged it’s terrible i need to overanalyze everything and slap little thoughts abt it and this song frustrated me a lot by sheer potential/amazement etc so ye whatevs this is my lonely corner anywayz

im so fkcing curious abt the album and i mean it, but i’m also v frustrated with the new song. like,, the production is crazy, literally the music is so intense & beautiful, orchestras & wind instruments is just such a wild ride and i’m so into it (i was hyped from the trailer tbh i knew itd be crazy). the harmonies are Haunting. the two together is just an insanely intense mix of emotions. it feels like being plunged into a RAW emotion immediately, you could use this music for dark movies, crash scenes, religious deaths, horror movies, and it would fit perfectly cause it’s That intense. i love it sm.

// the clip is very seemingly simple which i really love cause it balances out perfectly with the music, like, you couldn’t have different decors and rooms and like idk sexy/cute closeups or whatever i think it would just break the flow with such an intense music. so, you have to shoot like a short movie, perfect. i feel like it’s a direct play with like,, expectations. “this is what you want, this is what i show you, but set me free from this” it’s very ,,, intriguing. that the lyrics would prone being set free but ,,, clearly the choreo jimin does, it’s smthg you’ve seen before (i don’t mean like, it’s recycled or whatever, but like, the movements are strong, kind of sensual, the fact that he’s dancing at all really, that’s the style that people expect and love from him), the outfit its Litcherally what everyone who’s trying to be a bad boy in kpop wears (big chunky boots with the chunky bomber jacket and cargo pants like, sure).

so it’s like. you’re trapping yourself. you sing abt being free. you’re not freeing yourself at all. you’re literally in a huis clos, that looks like a prison. there’s no color, there’s no life except for the dancing, it’s so fkcing depressing to see such a cage, but it Looks cool too, right ? but the group choreo !! i love it, it joins the haunting voices perfectly. the voices are literally screaming at you with anguish, and the dancers are always in a role of being agressors to jimin, pointing fingers from the ground, from higher up, surrounding him, making noise (the gestual i mean is very noisy always all limbs moving etc) looking at him, and then lifting him up, touching him until he falls down and “dies”. horror movie, much. i love that, it’s like,,, this is what you want, this is what i give you, you still destroy me. thats kind of what i got, esp with the poem, which is very pretty, placed on the part of his body that’s nude. i love that his body becomes art but becomes politic in that way ; that’s where you’ll be looking so read then. but will you care abt it anyway ? it’s all depressing symbolism to me tbh but i love it anyways

the ending with the white clad ji//m/in, my thoughts are either,,, is this the inner self that’s gotten out (the lyrics want that i guess), or is it just you showing the new expectation that you’ve carved out.. cause technically, he is still trapped in the scene, he is showing something that people also want ; purity, no scandals, softness, the perfect angel side of him. so my first thought was that,, i didn’t feel like that was really a “being set free” resolution, like to believe that you’re truly being set free i’d need to see something else because this narrative isn’t really showing it. and then like,,, i learnt this was the last song of the album. and that made me feel like, oh is that it ? kinda broke my heart in a way. it made me think abt Arson and how it’s the last song of JITB’s whole trajectory, and with Arson i feel like it’s about reclaiming the control of something uncontrollable. the ending note is “i get to chose to burn it all or extinguish the fire” kinda,,, it’s strong and full of anger and pride and self doubt, but it ends on this note that feels like this is it, you know, new chapter now, i’m looking at a crossroad of choices. it feels Good to hear. set me free pt2 just feels daunting like,,, idk it made me feel like Ji//m/in (im talking abt the persona etc i don’t know the guy this is abt a narrative yadayada) ,,, idk the dilemna is still going. it’s like,, claiming you’re finally free but still begging to be set free till the end, doing it by looking straight at the camera and taunting you (is this what u wanna see ? am i free now ? will you read me ? etc), in a way it feels he’s reclaiming his agency/control by doing this, but also like he doesn’t believe it profundly at all. it’s like. i’ve done it now, will you get it anyways, i don’t think so, i’ll just be this other part now, you will never know me. i think that was my feeling overall. you will never know him, he’s not sharing that, he’s showing surface in many ways, and in details he’s showing more, but even that more isn’t that much and will never be clear. it’s intriguing, i’m intrigued, i’m also frustrated because i honestly would just really like to see the whole album to get a feel for everything and place it all in context but can’t do that so let’s ride, and idk, part of me would enjoy more clarity/substance

// next point,,, music is music first. and that makes me so Mad lmfao and this is personal taste you know but i was quiteeee disappointed by the song, because i honestly think it has the best & worst at the same time ? and that makes me Maaad i really want to love the song because the fkcing instrumentals you know, but i can’t because i don’t think his voice is well placed on the track. like, listen. what pple call autotune even tho it’s not, its actually filters, anyways im annoying lets call it autotune, it was too agressive for his voice i think. he has a very beautiful tone and texture, his lower register in Promise is just insane. so like... the point was to make his soft voice agressive, alright, the song calls for energy and agressiveness, Alllright. but it doesn’t feel like it fits to me my ears just don’ttt like that.

i think his voice sounds different because he’s singing in english, im not a fancy music nerd im just a music nerd from years of digging, but basically language means you sing differently, mostly because the sounds are different, the way you hold your tongue, head, the way you use your throat is different depending on those sounds. so basically,,, korean and english are actually Very far apart in terms of sounds, like, fr it’s reaaaally hard to go from one to the other for learning cause it’s so wildly different, pronunciation is Hard, but just getting used to using your vocal chords and throat and jaw all that, is also hard because we have Habits and we need to learn New habits in Our Bodies literally (language is insane, its basically why going on T is so fkcing weird for voice changes cause like,,, thats a whole part of ur body that u gotta learn to reuse and it Hurrrts ? and it’s a very weird process). back to the topic, in english it feels like he’s singing with a more open-throat sound in lower registers and im gonna be honest i don’t like that because it sounds uncomfortable.. it’s smthg i personnally notice in singers and that i don’t like hearing,, when something feels unnatural. his english in higher register ? delicious. the high notes on set me FreeEEE ? beautiful !!! fits the music so fkcing well !!

but the lower registers with that unnatural singing feeling AND the haannnddful of modifyers making it v robotic and harsh, thats just taking me Out of it. pple love that cause they feel like he’s playing two different people, i Get that and in theory that’s so cool but tbh i just don’t think the execution ended up that good. idk. honestly wonder how that could’ve gone ? im not a vocal coach nor a musician nor a singer so i wouldnt know shit abt that lmfao but really in terms of details thats just bugging me cause it makes me feel like,,, damn you were So close. the concept was cool but this isn’t hitting. cause it’s like,, the higher notes are this beautiful insanely pretty moments but every 0.2sec theyre cut back to the uneasiness and i don’t like that,,,, maybe it would’ve deserved more lyrics,,, like instead of being low NOW YEA NOW YEA you come in with a low singing sentence idk maybe that would’ve felt less empty/gratting,,, wonderinnnggg. anyways the trap bridge just took me out,,, i just,, idk i don’t feel it fits his voice again, i don’t like ji//m/in rapping actually i don’t think he’s a rapper like idk he’s a good singer but rapping is a whole other category and thats that. i liked his verse in T/ony Mon/tana because he used his voice Differently, he was spitting it out, it doesn’t come from an open throat singing, it was litcherally using a hoarse voice, which just works for agressivity but also he does v well !! like he’s literally alternating between breaking his voice to sound agressive which he Does in concerts sometimes and all and is cool as hell, and then singing very calmly but BASICALLY the hoarse texture works !!! my hypothesis is like,, the open throat thingy is because he’s screaming (HEY FOOLS ! part like,, power through screaming it out, many rappers do that in concerts because of the hype etc so like rather than rapping like u usually do you’re shouting it out), buuuttt not everyone can shout a performance to get higher energy and make it sound good. many rappers Don’t sound that good when they shout at concerts, cause that’s not their typical texture or whatever or it just loses the edgy touch of their texture before (do i make sense, god i hope no one in music reads me like ever). how do i equate that to make sense... J/h/ope singing at Lolla, you can literally tell at some point that he’s singing in low register but gave his voice too much power (shouting), had bad notes, so finished the sentence and for the next sentence got back to a quieter voice,you can hear Less well cause like, the whole crowd yelling thingy, but thats were his notes were correct cause thats were his voice is. anyways. fun bit to illustrate that nobody gets but me but lets gooo cowboys. anyways, the ending is pretty, i wouldn’t have added that last high “set me free”, i think letting his voice disappear slowly and ending with the other backing vocals would have felt more poetic, but whatevs. i’d say overrall,,, i think, the song would’ve been better with a lot more textures, instead of voice modifyers and gratting filters, you know like,, if you wanna get angry and go hard, then your voice needs to go Angry and go Hard, thats my mood (make it Hurt, make it punk, layer the fuck out of it, add weird fcking details, idk, anything tbh)

// in terms of lyrics huhhhh,,, i don’t dig it particularly, i think the message is well, pretty clear, some shout outs to other songs, his past self, etc. tbh i just don’t think the imagery is particularly original ? like,, free & butterfly (yes but it’s a nod to other songs yadayada i know i was there,,,, it’s sentimental but i’m an annoying person looking at the song as a song also) it’s like,, it’s all things you’ve read/heard before in terms of actual words. which like, i guess we can’t Invent new words but that’s where poetry and imagery come from, intricacies and all that jazz, it’s pretty fun to play with, and i feel like, well, the song is pretty straight forward so at least it’s clear but it’s not rocking my jams too much. i like the imagery of “raise your hands for the past me” cause it can be read both as “congrats for getting there” and mockery, like pointing finger, which they all do in the choreo, so i think it sounds bittersweet which i Like. i also feel like the lyrics really put in context the narrative of the video (duh ig) because the maze never really leaves even tho the chorus begs for freedom (wandered/stuck in/at the edge/still in). and the juxtaposition between “finally free” vs. “set me free” vs. “primetime/finally begun” vs. “forget/forget” and obvs “insane/sane” are the most interesting parts in terms of lyrics & depth. but yeah. i don’t particularly vibe with the fuck offs and you fools and the i never stops and fuck all your opps cause like,,, mmmh,, idk why i feel like it’s just not hitting. why is it not hitting tbh ? i Wonder. maybe because it doesn’t feel that tightly knit with the rest of the song, maybe because his voice doesn’t really push the feeling through enough ? it kind of feels very randomly put there, musically at least, instead of Hitting right. my guess is that i’d say the song lacks actual words ? it was a gut feeling like, it’s too empty, it’s too general, if it was more precise, more dense, it would really balance out the fkcing Sheer craziness of the music & background vocals. maybe MORE jim///in vocals juxtaposed too ? maybe if he really played with having many voices !!! like, tbh, many singers create texture by singing themselves in different keys (damn that was the word i searched for all along) and stacking those up (ie. literally any pop artist ig idk Ha/rry Sty//les does it in Matilda very clearly, i think thats what came up first in my brain anyways, it adds this kind of, haunting feeling because you can’t clearly distinguish the other keys but you still hear them, it’s like,, little ghost voices, adding the same emotion but slightly different versions of it), but i still think just packing more words would’ve made the song feel more anchored. cause in the end the verses are super empty,, esp the “not yet, not yet” and then “now yeah, now yeah” that feels so unfulfilling !!! just stock em up, get more up there. and i get that it works w the message but it just idk. im not fed, like, musically.

//overall,,, hmm, i guess it boils down to i vibed with it in theory & sentiment, but the actual song just leaves me unsatisfied. sadly. and its like, tragic, cause thats kind of the point of the song to be free from judgement and reception etc, but alas, i just didn’t really reception it. but tbh i think music and art is just about learning & growing, and i think that’s what he’s doing and will do all his life just like me. honestly i always have respect for artists who Do try to make something honest and true. i think that’s what he was going for, cause the music proves it, and the care proves it, so i’m gonna sit my ass and say that,,, this isn’t a song empty of Meaning it’s a song that struggles to bring it out into Emotion. like, actual emotion, followed through all the way not just with the instrumentals and background vocals cause those are Very emotional, but through technique and creativity and depth. it’s too neat. that sounds super harsh cause i just use direct words all my life but anyways. lets get it. end of my music rant. will come back here for all my music rants from now on cause this is litcherally an empty space and my friends can’t bear the music obsession so, good for me.

#ynn talks #goudebaille #my mind is free now #i struggled to shape this all day #i feel at peace w myself #hi pple if you are becos of the musical rants you are free to deposit a like or hate comment or thought #pls dont go through the rest of my posts tho #theyre all mental breakdowns #and theyre all my most pathetic moments #so itd be nice if you turned a blind eye to that shit show #and didnt judge me for it #thanks #ynn music rants

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Bring On The Wonder, We Got It All Wrong, We Pushed Us Down Deep In Our Souls, So Hang On

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of this piece right here that everyone got mad at me for because I made it angsty :) Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Will you slow down?” Bruce complained, reaching her in a few steps. “Your ankle is sprained and you’re going to—”

She turned on him, slapping his hand away from where it was reaching for her. “I don’t wanna look or talk to you or anybody else right now.” She spat. “Take the hostages to GCPD and leave me the fuck alone.”

“He wasn’t going to kill you.” Bruce said and she scowled.

“It doesn’t matter what he was or wasn’t going to do.” She pointed to herself. “I thought he was going to. That’s what matters to me.” She turned and took a step, though her leg faltered, and she went to her knees, reaching to hold her ankle. “Fuck,” she hissed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“(Y/N),” he murmured, bending down beside her and she reached up, yanking the cowl off.

“Everything hurts,” she cried, anger and pain lacing her voice. “My back hurts. My chest hurts. Everything fucking hurts.” She reached up to wipe the blood still leaking from her busted nose and split eyebrow. “And I’m bleeding.” (Y/N) licked her lips, feeling the sting from the broken skin of her bottom one.

Bruce’s hand went to his utility belt, unclipping one of the pockets, and he pulled out a rag; he gently raised it to her eyebrow, dabbing at the blood as he quietly stated, “Your eyebrow’s already in hemostasis. Though it’s going to need stitches.” His hand briefly stilled near her swollen eye, then he continued to her nose where he gently held it.

She whimpered, trying to recoil but he held on. “That hurts.”

“You need to stop the bleeding,” he advised, then grabbed her hand and placed it over his, forcing her to take it.

“What are you doing?”

Bruce didn’t answer her, one arm curling under her knees, the other her back and he hefted her up into his arms. “I’ll take you back to your penthouse.”

(Y/N) wanted to cry, and she was helpless to stop the tears that gathered in her eyes; she turned, burying her face in the plate of her brother’s shoulder pad, breathing deeply to keep her sobs at bay.

“I don’t know what’s going to come after this,” he explained softly, careful to take even steps to avoid jostling her. “But I know that you’re the only one who gets to choose what happens between you and him.” He rested his chin on her head. “And if you choose to take a leave for a while, then I’ll support that.”

She let out a shuddering breath. “I just want to crawl in a hole.”

“Want me to get my shovel and dig you one?”

A watery laugh passed her lips, though it dissolved into a sob and with her free hand, she reached over and grabbed Bruce’s opposite shoulder, squeezing tightly as she shook against him.

He inhaled deeply, catching Ghost-Maker from the corner of his eye leading the hostages out. “We’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

***

Turns out that the leave of absence seemed like the best choice for her, and she’d hunkered down in a safe-house about three hundred miles outside of the state on the edges of the McIntyre Wild Area in Pennsylvania. Bruce and she had bought it years ago as a last-ditch effort if they needed to get out of Gotham and it’d taken the two of them, plus Clark to clear it out and build. Half of the time was having Clark laugh at the two siblings and call them “city-slickers trying to be country folk” as he watched them struggle to tame the land.

But in the end, it had been effective, and they’d built a rather cozy safe-house that looked inconspicuously like Ma and Pa Kent’s home in Smallville. It was stocked with everything they needed, a built-in basement for safe measures. She was alone and secure in the small cabin and that’s how she wanted to be. Since leaving some few days ago, she’d messaged each nephew and niece telling them that while she loved them dearly, she needed to be alone for some time and that she’d be back as soon as she could be.

They’d flooded her phone with messages and concerns, but she’d left the device in her penthouse before leaving, resting assured that Bruce would explain in her absence. She felt like a failure and more so, weak for leaving her brother with the job of explaining, but the last thing she wanted to do was explain the situation herself.

She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, gazing absentmindedly as the flames cast light that flickered around the darkened room. The entire room was open, living room and fireplace in the center, bedroom in one corner, kitchen in the other, a closed bathroom in another. It all smelled like pine. Fresh air and the ingraining scent of pine. But it’s what she needed. Gotham City overwhelmed the olfactory senses with blood and smog and on especially bad days, the rotting scent of fish and death. Everyone needed a break from it at some point in their life; to remember how to breathe in air that wasn’t contaminated.

The only thing she didn’t like was how quiet it was. (Y/N) was used to the distant sounds of traffic, gunshots, and sirens. Here it was the sound of her breathing and the wind whistling through the trees, wildlife scratching and hunting away in the underbrush. She swore she could hear her blood flowing through her brain. If there was any consolation, it did help to hone the senses on what she wanted to hear. And what she didn’t want to hear was knocking at the front door.

Quietly she rose from the couch and walked to the side of her bed, grabbing the loaded twelve gauge; she cocked it and stepped up to the door, warning, “If you’re not park rangers, I suggest you leave now. I’m armed and I will shoot you.”

A muffled chuckle sounded from the other side. “Well, that’s not the way I figured you’d greet me.”

“Oh, so you were expecting the shotgun blast then?” she answered aiming at the door and she pulled the trigger, blasting a large hole in the center of the wooden door. (Y/N) waited until the smoke cleared before she walked up and bent down, peeking through to see him flat on the ground, unharmed, reflexive as ever.

“Damn,” she griped. “I really thought I was going to beat you that time, K.”

Ghost-Maker cocked his head up and she was sure he was glaring at her from beneath the mask. “You crazy—”

“Bitch?” (Y/N) finished. “Tell me about it.” She set the gun next to the door and stood up, flipping the lock before pulling it open. “What do you want.”

“Well, I was coming to see you,” he said, picking himself off the ground; dusting himself off, he added, “You wouldn’t answer me.”

“Huh, I wonder why?” (Y/N) questioned, pressing her finger to her chin in mock thought, then her face lit up and she exclaimed, “Maybe it was because you tried to kill me a week ago!”

“I wasn’t going to kill you.” He griped. “You know I wasn’t going to.”

“Noted. What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you and if you’re smart, you’ll leave before I decide to reload the gun.”

Ghost-Maker sighed, gazing at her. “I was using Kyusho Jitsu to slow you down until Bruce arrived.”

(Y/N) wanted to scream, but she kept her voice level. “And that somehow justifies splitting both lips, one eyebrow, busting my nose, and throwing me into an electric fence?”

“…No,” he murmured. “No, it doesn’t.” He looked at her. “But I was concerned that if I didn’t make it look like we were really trying to kill one another, Riddler was going to kill the hostages.”

She merely stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I used to think I knew when you were telling the truth, but now that I really think about it, I don’t know when you’re lying to me either.”

He stood to his full height, jaw tightening as he said, “I’m many things, but I’m not a liar, (Y/N). And I’d never lie to you.”

“I don’t believe you,” she shot back, face pinching as she finished with, “And you can sleep outside.”

She shut the door and turned around, walking to the bed in the corner and he looked through the hole in the middle. “You know I can just come inside if I want?”

(Y/N) laughed, stripping the shorts and long shirt she had on before climbing into the bed. “You take one step in here and I’ll cut your penis off and nail it to your forehead.”

“Hmm…have it your way,” he decided, turning around and she had as she tried, she couldn’t block out the sound of him setting up his blanket and bedding on the porch.

Hopefully, he’d be gone in the morning.

***

A crack of thunder startled her awake and she sat up in the bed, looking out the window to see the rain beating down. Her eyes drifted to the hole in the door and for a moment, she wanted to get up and see if he was okay, but she felt a bolt of irritation flash through her and she huffed, flopping back down into the bed, yanking the covers over her head.

She laid there for a few minutes, listening to the thunder clap above her, the lightning illuminating the room ever other moment, then she groaned, cursing herself for being a good person deep, deep down. (Y/N) threw the covers off her and rolled out of the bed, hurrying to the door. Pulling it open, she couldn’t help but smile at the man curled up in his thoroughly soaked blanket.

“Come inside.” He said nothing in return, and she sighed, kicking him in the stomach. “I know you’re awake, K. Get in here.”

“I thought you didn’t want me inside,” he retorted, yet to pull the blanket off his head.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I don’t. But I’d be a terrible person if I let you get pneumonia.”

“You know you can’t catch that from rain, right? It’s caused by—”

“Fine. Stay out here for all I care,” she interrupted, starting to close the door and he sat up, scrambling for the inside.

“Wait!” She smirked and he craned his neck up at her to scowl. “You did that on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” (Y/N) retorted, cracking the door open more so he could get inside. He sat against the door when she closed it and she leaned against the door frame, watching the water drip down his soaked body.

“Want a change of clothes?” she asked. “Bruce left some behind the last time he was here.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she walked over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

She turned, seeing him yanking off his shirt and pants, then tossed the clothes to him. “Here.”

He caught them. “I’m not wearing his boxers.”

“They’re new, jack-ass.” (Y/N) snorted, looking away so he could dress himself, then she glanced back. “Feel better?”

“I feel less cold,” he retorted, walking around the fireplace to toss another couple logs inside. “You’re letting the fire die out.”

She rolled her eyes and wandered into the kitchen, returning with a clean rag. “You’d be less cold if you took the mask off and toweled your hair.”

He looked up at her, watching, waiting, and since he didn’t stop her from reaching behind him, she untied the knot at the base of his skull, pulling the damp fabric away.

(Y/N) wiped the water from his face, softly brushing over his cheeks, then to his eyebrows, and when she was satisfied, she placed the towel on his head, and gently massaged his scalp, letting the towel soak up all the rainwater.

When she was done, she tossed it aside and sank onto the brick wraparound with a heavy sigh, eyes drifting to the wall. Ghost-Maker collapsed against her legs, resting his head back on her thighs; unconsciously, (Y/N)’s hands went to his hair, stroking the brown tresses.

After a few minutes, he murmured, “I apologize for not telling you the plan.”

Her hands stilled for a moment before continuing their ministrations. “I accept your apology.” She scratched his scalp. “Sorry for what I said.”

“It didn’t hurt my feelings,” he shrugged, and she tugged his hair.

“Yes, it did.” He tipped his head back, gazing at her. “Parade it around all you want but we both know you’re not immune to having your feelings hurt.”

Ghost-Maker searched her eyes. “You truly thought I was going to kill you?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) answered. “Everything was happening so quickly. I didn’t have time to think about what fighting style you were using on me. All I knew was that you weren’t pulling punches and it didn’t feel like a plan to me.”

She stared at him. “And I was scared of you.”

“Are you scared of me now?” he questioned, and she inhaled then exhaled.

“No.” He seemed relieved, but it was short lived as she added, “But I don’t trust you anymore. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I do again.”

He looked away. “I see.” Nothing was said for a moment, and he pulled from her, standing to his feet. “It’s late. We should rest.”

(Y/N) stood and started making her way to the bed when she realized he was going too. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Going to bed?” Ghost-Maker offered, and she cocked a brow.

“Try again, K.” She pointed to the couch. “Go.”

His face pinched and he turned, but she caught his hand and he stopped, glancing back at her. (Y/N), against the better judgement in her head and the obvious discomfort between the two of them, stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead to the middle of his chest.

He seemed to freeze at the sudden action, even if it’d been one, they’d done many times, but he recovered, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other around the back of her neck. His cheek brushed her temple and her grip shifted, hands coming up to press flat against his shoulders; with the warmth stinging the corners of her eyes, she dug her nails into his back as if it were the one thing keeping her from breaking down.

She wanted to say it. Wanted to tell him how angry she was. How hurt. How much loathing was built up inside of her, but nothing would come out.

“I know,” Ghost-Maker murmured against her hair. “I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), and I know.” He pulled back, hand slipping from her neck to cup her cheek; he pressed his forehead to hers and assured quietly, “I know.”

(Y/N)’s eyes slipped shut and she let out a shaky breath. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“Tomorrow.” He let her go and watched as she unsteadily headed for the bed, collapsing onto the mattress; she tugged the blankets over her head, and he frowned as he saw her frame start to shake beneath them. Pulling the blanket off the couch, he laid down and watched her for some time. Waiting until she stopped shaking and slipped off into sleep so he himself could sleep too.

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castleshadows · 3 years

Text

A Deeper Form of Hunger

The scene where Casteel goes crazy from blood deprivation from his perspective.

18+ Content: Smut, Non-Consensual

Written March 23, 2021

“Here take him, just spare me!” Shea shoved my weak body towards the Ascended, and in that moment I knew that she wasn’t here to rescue me. It may have started out that way, but first they took Malik because of her, and now I was going to be taken back to that cage, where I would be cut and raped and mocked until the end of my days.

I knew that this woman behind me no longer loved me, maybe never loved me at all. I could feel my heart breaking, which was absolutely ridiculous, because a heart could be squashed, a heart could be torn out, a heart could even be ripped into pieces. But, a heart couldn’t break, not like a bone could. However, looking at Shea behind me, feeling my limbs starting to give out, seeing the Ascended reach for me with bloodthirsty eyes as the woman I loved prepared to run, something in me snapped, and I was pretty damn sure it was my heart.

I heard screams, wild, roaring screams that may have been coming from me. Something feral in me came to life, something that had been present for five decades, but never consumed me in this way. Everything darkened as I leaped for my fiance's throat —

There was movement, jerking me from the dream, and into a brighter, more colorful world. One I did not know. The movement happened again, more sure this time, and I rolled on instinct, pinning the wriggling creature beneath me. I gave a growl of warning. The woman under me yelled something, her eyes wide with surprise. Some deep part of me recognized the word. Some part of me tried to struggle to the front at that sound. I knew this woman. I didn’t care.

My hand moved to her neck, pressing down and causing her to let out a woosh of air. She swung her arm at me, trying to break my hold, but I easily pinned it down by the wrist, holding her down even as she strained against my grip.

I could smell her. I could feel the blood pumping through her veins. I wanted that blood. I wanted to sink my teeth into her neck. I wanted to drink her blood until it filled my veins. I was hungry. No, I was starving. And here was my meal.

The woman said something again, the same word. Less hostile this time, and again that deep part of me tried to push to the front. I shoved it down once again, snarling.

She stilled, and I felt her heartbeat slow beneath my fingers. I still wanted her. I could still smell the blood in her veins, waiting there for me to take, but the feeling was less consuming.

There were more words that I didn’t care to listen to.

I trailed my gaze down her body, and a different scent hit my nose, something I hadn’t noticed before. It was strong, and sweet, and utterly enchanting. It smelled like… honeydew. I inhaled it, letting the scent fill my mind and body until I felt something twitch to life in my pants.

I shifted my hand, removing it from the woman’s neck, and towards the source of that intoxicating smell.

She moved as well, reaching her hand behind her to grab something. I paid no attention, too distracted by the way her robe was parted revealing her beautiful leg, and the crease that pointed right to where I wanted my mouth.

The honeydew smell was growing stronger by the second, and I lowered my head, my chin brushing her stomach. I needed this, I needed her. I needed to taste her until she screamed. I needed to devour her until there was nothing else but honeydew, and this curvy, beautiful, woman, with red hair like fire, and a scent that consumed me.

I lowered my head further, prepared to do just that.

Something cold and sharp pressed against my neck. I ignored it. It pressed in harder.

I couldn’t stop now. I wouldn’t. I needed this. She needed this. The scent was too strong, and something primal in me kept me moving. I moved the robe out of the way to look between the woman’s legs. I growled in appreciation, the scent growing stronger the close I got. My breath ghosted over her thighs, and she seemed to clench, her breathing growing heavier.

She started to say something again. That word I knew was in there, but it was easier to ignore with my face so close to her.

“Or we will find out what happens to an Atlantian when their throat gets cut.”

The sharp thing pressed in closer, and it took everything in me to drag my gaze away from between her thighs.

I stared at her, her eyes wide and a beautiful shade of green that was almost as captivating as her scent.

She said something else, that I wasn’t able to pay attention to. The moment of clear-headedness was gone.

My all-consuming hunger had taken hold of me again. It was a different kind of hunger this time however. Less for her blood, and more for her.

This woman was everything I wanted. Even in my fuzzy state of mind, I knew she wanted this as much as I did. I could still smell her, and each moment that my mouth wasn’t between her legs, devouring her flesh, each moment I couldn’t bury my face in her neck, biting and sucking until her blood flowed into my mouth was torment. Pure torment.

The hunger wasn’t just in my stomach, it was flowing through my body. I felt it in every nerve and bone, every piece of me, wanted her. In more ways than one.

The woman was still looking at me, her gaze wide and searching, as if looking for something that didn’t exist.

I didn’t feel anything except the pain and hunger. I didn’t know anything other than this woman and her scent. I needed her. Badly.

She tugged on her arm, the one that I still had pinned beneath my hand, and I let go, my thoughts more on what was emitting from between her thighs than whether or not she was pinned down.

My head moved almost of its own accord. My chin grazed the crease of her thigh, the scars that I didn’t bother to pay attention to.

There was that blood scent again, though it didn’t overpower the honeydew I was so focused on. I knew a major artery waited just beside my jaw. Just a small tip of the head, and I could have satisfied my hunger right there and then. But, I didn’t. I didn’t sink my fangs into her leg, no matter how much I wanted to. There was something else that demanded my attention right now. Something else that so utterly… utterly intrigued me.

The honeydew scent was going stronger, refilling my senses, after the momentary distraction. The sharpness at my neck trembled, and I growled again, a primal sound that I hadn’t even realized had come from me until seconds later.

I dipped my head, instinct taking over.

The sharpness left my neck, freeing me to lift the woman’s hips, and spread her thighs.

Moments later my mouth was on her, and I forgot all about my hunger.

My tongue sliced between her legs, and I found that this woman tasted just as good as she smelled. Even better. I slid my lips across her folds, devouring her, savoring the sweet taste of her on my tongue.

Each stroke, stoked the fire inside of me even more, and I found myself pressing in harder, spreading her legs further apart to allow for better access. The taste of honeydew invaded my senses, and I knew nothing except for this woman. This woman that I could feast on for the rest of eternity, and never grow tired of her taste and smell and the moans I could hear coming from her mouth.

She tried to move, to thrust her hips against my tongue, but I held her in place, pressing down on her legs to keep her from interrupting my ministrations. Her legs shook, and I felt her hands beside my head, gripping the sheets like a life-line. Some part of me felt almost smug. I could make her feel like this. I could give her pleasure, and make her scream, and only me. This perfect woman.

Her wetness coated my lips and mouth, and I knew that her flavor would be stuck on my tongue for many hours. I didn’t know how I had ever survived without this, how I had gone even a few moments since waking up without devouring this beautiful creature.

I could feel her hips stuttering, and I knew she felt pleasure from this. I knew that she was moments from coming apart, and sure enough, several seconds later, a loud scream when up, filling the room. I continued to lap at her, lightly grazing my teeth across the little bundle of nerves to prolong her pleasure. I never wanted this to stop. I never wanted this feast to end, but I lifted my head, catching sight of this glorious creature. Her hair, even messier, her face pink, her mouth open and chest heaving.

She blinked open her eyes, locking them with mine.

My hunger was sated. At least one part of it.

I parted my lips, moving forward, reading to sink my teeth into her pretty little neck—

There was someone else in the room.

A door had been opened to my right and a gust of wind was flowing through the room, cooling my heated skin. Footsteps, and then an abrupt stop.

I was going to kill them.

They spoke, and I shook with anger.

Swinging my head around I snarled, the noise promising death. Whoever had barged in, had just offered themselves up as dinner.

It was a man. Tawny-skinned with dark hair, that was long and coiled on the top, and trimmed close on the sides. His ice-blue eyes tugged at my memory, but I was too far-gone in my rage at being interrupted to pay much attention to it. The walls were about to run red with blood, whether I knew this man or not.

The woman was still lying beneath me, and I knew that this man would try to take her from me. That would not happen.

“Shit,” the man said, stepping forward, “Cas, my brother, I warned you this would happen.”

That world sounded familiar. Cas. The first part of what the woman said to me.

The woman repeated it

I ignored her, snarling at the man, and baring my fangs. Dead. That was what he was.

There was an exchange between the two. The man and the woman, talking as if they knew each other. I didn’t like it. She was mine.

But, something he said made me pause for a split second.

“...Poppy…”

I recognized that.

“Casteel.”

That… I recognized that too. I didn’t want to recognize either of them.

The woman reached out and placed a hand on my arm. I didn’t think much of it, not until the feelings started.

One moment there was only the hunger and rage, the next an onslaught of love. With each wave, the monster receded just a little bit. Every second I became more me.

Casteel. My name.

Poppy. The woman I was hopelessly in love with.

The man across from me was Kieran. Worried for me. Worried for his best friend.

The monster still held on a little. Still had it’s claws dug into my shoulders.

The woman, what was her name?

“It’s okay Hawke.”

Hawke.

My mother called me that.

The woman used to call me that.

I missed it.

I wished she would call me that more.

My entire body jerked, and it was like I had been set free.

Poppy removed her hand from my arm, sitting back. I looked down to see that the robe was still parted, and I saw the place where her legs met, still completely exposed.

I looked up, embarrassed, scared at what I would see in her face. Scared of what she now thought of me. How could I do that? How could I have let it get like that? This was all my fault. She would never trust me again, and for good reasons.

Poppy’s eyes were wide, her gaze filled with surprise and… and fear. I looked down, unable to stand it any longer.

She was still exposed, in front of both me and Kieran. She was probably uncomfortable. Ok, after what had just happened, she was definitely uncomfortable.

I tugged the two halves of her robe together, covering her upper legs and between them. The taste of honeydew was still on my tongue, still covered my lips.

“Honeydew,” I whispered, unable to stop myself. “I’m sorry.”

I was sorry. Gods I was so sorry.

I walked past Kieran, not strong enough to look at the expression on his face, and did the only thing I knew how to. I ran. As soon as I exited the terrace doors, I broke into a run, past servants, past those I had traveled to Solis with, sparing none of them a passing glance.

I turned a corner, my mind set on finding the nearest bucket of water to clean myself up. Poppy would probably be embarrassed if she knew I was running around with her release all over my mouth. Thankfully, one of the servants was walking up a flight of stairs to my left, carefully carrying a bucket of water and a sponge.

I nodded politely towards her, asking if I could use the water. She bowed leaving me with the bucket and sponge to clean myself up.

I stepped into the nearest empty room, striding towards the bathing chamber with the water. Making quick work of my face, I shaved as well, using the complementary razor left in a shelf by the sink.

I avoided looking in the mirror, knowing that what I would see, was not something I currently wanted to be seeing.

It didn’t take long for me to find my clothes and boots from last night, which had been washed and set out to dry the evening before. The boots had apparently been washed on the inside as well and still slightly damp. I cringed as I pulled them on, ignoring the way they squelched.

I knew breakfast was just starting, and I should probably go eat some real food, but I couldn’t make myself face either Poppy or Kieran, who would probably be there by now.

There was another kind of hunger, one that consumed me like it had this morning. I hadn’t taken any blood in a long time. Not since we were in Masadonia, and Naill had offered me his wrist. I was starving for it, and I knew that if I went to any Atlantian here, they would be more than happy to give me their blood, but the thought disgusted me.

I couldn’t possibly take blood from someone else, when my mind was so utterly focused on Poppy. It was too intimate a gesture to even consider doing it with someone else. But I knew damn well I couldn’t take Poppy’s blood either. I was too close to the edge, and I could hurt her. No, I wouldn’t ask her to do that. I wouldn’t add her blood to the ever growing list of things I’d taken from her.

Instead I headed towards where I knew Alistir waited. I would talk with him, find out how many would be traveling with us to Saion’s Cove, and in how many days we would leave. I would distract my mind from Poppy, and ignore my hunger. Because that was the only thing I could do, if I was going to keep from breaking apart.

My dream from earlier came back to me. I had never told Poppy about Shea, though she knew that I had been in love before. I didn’t want to talk about her, ever. I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind, and stood up, preparing myself for yet another day.

#poppy x casteel #poppy balfour #casteel da'neer #kieran contou #smut #non consent #from blood and ash #a kingdom of flesh and fire #the crown of gilded bones #fbaa #akofaf #tcogb

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edenhasfeelings · 2 years

Text

he was an angel craving chaos, they were a demon seeking peace

White.

The color of purity and light.

He had worn that color since the day he was born, and they told him he would to the day he died, no matter how much he screamed and cried and he tried to hide.

But his tears never dried, and he was utterly stuck, with no way to run away.

When at night he lay down to pray, his voice was bitter and his words were cruel.

Insults and curses, hateful and harsh, flowed from his lips, and the so-called blessings he rips away from himself. Like a dog he nips and fights and bites the so called merciful fingertips of the slave master who parades as God, and pardons their sins with a benevolent nod.

"The Protector," they say, that's what He's called.

Yet what danger exists to protect them from?

"Let us fight for ourselves, don't hold us under your thumb!" he screams till he's numb.

Oh, he's crazy to some.

To all of them, really.

And so, voluntarily they shun him, push him further into madness, till he is all alone, in this place supposedly called home.

He's thrown to the man sat high on a throne, who refuses to free him, despite his moans.

There's no God up above, He's in front of him now, just merely a mortal acting holier than thou.

He pardons him, "mercifully."

"No, condemn me! I'm as wild as the sea and I will scream like a banshee till your ears bleed. Give me sensuality. Give me discord, give me sin. Let me spin such a tale as there never has been. I will leave you alone from this day on. But I swear to you now, I vow on my life, if you do not release me from my strife, there will be a day you find in your back, a knife, and for you, there will be no afterlife. I've had enough of artificial peace and protection. Am I not allowed to make a single objection?"

So he pleaded with the mortal called God.

He sat back with an amused smile, looking down as he, with all his heart, begged, bent on one knee.

"Alright, my child, I'll set you free, so you may see there is none more merciful than me."

But he, no fool, oh he saw, and he once again shrieked till his throat was raw.

But there was no one to watch as he fell from Heaven, passing straight by the place he longed to go, and to Hell's gates He'd ordered the rushing winds to tow the poor broken angel, now lost to his woe, and too far away to fight his foe.

Black.

A color to make you draw back.

They were given no choice in the matters of their life, and told what their purpose was to be: Spread discord like the sea and grow wickedness like a tree, and above all, be kind to nobody.

“This is all there is,” they were told, and into a demon they let themself be mold.

“Blame the mortal who claims to be God,” was all the others would say whenever they would prod. “It is he who claimed us to be flawed, and so to keep ourselves safe, we became fanged and clawed. It isn’t our fault, it’s just how it is. We were born to be the villains in that story of his.”

“But why prove him right? We once were creatures of light!”

“Light is for angels,” the others scoff in their face. “You want to be better? History has already taken place. For his sleight to us, we will corrupt the human race.”

For all knew God’s favorites were the humans of Earth, even though they were morally base.

But that didn’t stop that poor demon from wishing upon a falling star, that things would be different and not so bizarre.

They didn’t want humans to corrupt, they didn’t want lives to disrupt. All they ever wanted was a home and a friend, and maybe a bit of time and money to spend, and then to one day, peacefully, meet their end.

That falling star they wished on turned out to be the answer to their silent prayer. Standing at the gates of Hell, they watched it streak through the air.

No star was it really, but the broken angel cast out, going not to Earth as he wished, but to Hell for his doubt. A few miles from the gates, he arrived with a shout. And without thinking, the curious demon ran to see what the fuss was about.

Sobbing and in pain, broken wings, a tortured brain, the angel stared up at this creature arcane.

But the demon wasn’t shy. “What are you, lovely thing of the sky? Please, beautiful boy, do not just lie there and cry. Do not be afraid, I don’t want you to die.”

The angel merely said, “It doesn’t matter what you want, here, I’m as good as dead. My crime was wanting freedom, wanting to control my own time alive. I no longer desired to be part of the paradigm of a near forgotten false god, to scrape and bow and be nothing in the height of my prime. I decided to be strong, instead of a mindless sheep, now tell me demon, is that so wrong?”

And just like that, everything changed. The demon’s wishes and hopes and thoughts and fears, suddenly no longer seemed so deranged. And there outside Hell, with an angel so estranged, nothing henceforth would remain unchanged.

Grey.

This is what happens when your colors start to stray.

Between these two creatures, they both now know that demons are not always bad, and angels are not truly good. That was the gift the mortal God did not mean to bestow when He banished that angel so far below, to the place He had made demons in that time long ago.

The demon gently gathered the angel in their arms, and when he struggled, they carefully worked their charms. “Please, my breathtaking boy from above, I want to help you be free of this fate you are undeserving of. Let me heal you so one day you may go on to do and love as you wish, for I too have dreams I don’t wish to dispose of.”

“You’re a demon!” He cried, “Aren’t you supposed to be evil and full of pride?”

“And you’re an angel,” They responded with a smirk, “Rebellion isn’t typically your handiwork.”

And as they worked to set the angel’s wings right, they told of their dreams, their eyes alight. “I’ve never wanted to hurt humans, or cause anyone fright. I didn’t want to do what I was made for, and was alone in this thought, at least before tonight.”

The angel studied them in awe. He realized he had never truly been alone, and the thought left his heart raw. “For eternity,” he mused, “we’ve been on opposite ends of the universe. Now that I know that I’m not alone, my life feels like less of a curse.”

The demon confessed, “I want to breathe in a sunset. I want to have trivial cares to forget. I don’t want to be a threat.”

The angel leaned close, “I want to dance on sunlight. I want to not have to do things right. I want to taste what it is to lust. I want to inject my veins with stardust. I want for once in my life to have a being I can trust. I want to feel such joy so badly that I think I’ll combust.”

They met each other's eye. “We’re the same, you and I.” And then they both began to cry.

“Let’s be free of Heaven and Hell and false gods.” They both decided that night. And when the day came, they vanished at first light. They left behind their planned out roles, and their lingering feelings of spite. And during this time, their flight through the stars, they found the love that they spoke thereof.”

Together that angel and demon discovered the secrets that lay between stars, and caught wishes and dreams and kept them in jars. And they found the cures to heal all their scars, the best cure being each other, by far.

“I’m in debt to you, my love.” Said the one that had once fell.

“No, I to you, for without you I am but a shell.”

There was a purpose to this tale: don’t try to please others with what isn’t right, when put on a scale, your feelings outweigh theirs. Find the universe within yourself, and you will not fail, and your hopes and dreams will never be to no avail.

#poetry #writing #writing prompt #creative writing #angels and demons #gay #nblm #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#spoken word #short story #pretty words

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stillebesat · 3 years

Text

Beneath the Moon -part 3

Sanders Sides: Logan, Roman Blurb: After all the research he’d done, after all the signs he’d been experiencing. Logan needed someone to tell him he wasn’t crazy. And Roman…Roman had always been the one most likely to believe in the fantastical, the impossible, the…supernatural. Fic Type: Werewolf!AU Overall Fic Warnings: Bite Wound -Semi-Detailed, Dog Attack Mention, Injuries, War Talk, Fighting Talk, Death/Dying Talk, Gun Mention, Shapeshifting/Transformation, Brief Sensory Overload, Taglist in Reblog.

To Catch Up: Part 1 Part 2

The one key detail that had been consistent in every source Logan had looked up about werewolves was the change.

While the imagery used in each had varied, the descriptions overall had remained the same. Changing into a wolf would hurt. He would feel like he was on fire. Burning as his body was forcibly changed from one form to another.

Heat.

Because everything became more malleable when it was warm. Ice would melt. Plastic would bend. Metal would pool.

Heat was the source of change.

So to become a wolf. He would have to burn.

And yet.

All Logan felt was cold. Frozen really. Like he was stuck in a glacier, his heart slowly pounding, fighting against the tidal wave of ice that threatened to engulf him. Pounding like the waves of the ocean beating against the shore. The pull of the cool tide dragging at him, beckoning him to fall into the moon. To get lost in the never ending white light as it filled his entire vision. Filled his vision despite him knowing that only the top sliver of it had appeared. That the whole moon shouldn’t be visible just yet. That there was no way for him to be able to reach the moon from here.

There was a roaring in his ears as his breath caught in his throat, his body going rigid even as his feet shifted to run away, to hide from this empty void of space that called to him as the moon rose higher, beckoning him to let go of the earth and float into the sky with it. To free himself from the restraints of gravity and just---

Accept it.

The faint thought echoed distantly in his head as a soft whimper left his throat.

You said you would accept it.

The moon filled his vision. Pulsating. Like a beacon, it called to him. Called to him in a way that it shouldn’t. The moon had never held such an allure before now and his mind frantically fought against the impossibility. How could an object in space hold such power? How could it force him to be anything than what he was.

Human.

Accept it.

Werewolves shouldn’t exist!

But research had shown. The bite on his hand--he--he---

Like a lonely foghorn sounding over the misty shores at night, a single howl broke through his turbulent thoughts, echoing in the night, overtaking any other sound, demanding his attention.

Demanding an answer.

That answer was wedged in his throat. The urge to--to--but--he--he couldn’t--

Accept it.

The howl echoed again and Logan could have sworn he saw a shadowy form flit across the surface of the moon.

A shadow that looked like a wolf.

Logan shuddered, the shadow growing bigger in his vision, the eyes within glowing bright like the sun as it turned to face him, staring him down, the ice in his body threatening to drown freeze him, feeling the need to cry out to--to--

Howl.

You said--

Accept it.

He had to--there was no denying with how the moon was calling to him. He had to if he wanted any chance of keeping his human mind.

Shuddering from the ice that seemed to flow through his veins, Logan threw his head back and let out an answering howl, calling for--for--he didn’t know. For the wolf? For it to come to him?

His voice still echoing in his ears, the shadow on the moon pounced, despite the impossibility of it all, wrapping around him like a warm current, heating the frozen ache that held his muscles captive like a warm wind on a hot summer day.

He couldn’t help but melt into that warmth as it massaged the ice away, falling to his hands and knees as a soft lilting voice whispered in his ear.

Welcome brother.

His heart skipped a beat at those two very simple words.

Simple words that he hadn’t felt applied to him either singly or together in a very very long time.

“Logan?”

A chill ran down his spine as the warmth vanished as quickly as it had engulfed him, leaving him to stagger in place, his body feeling--feeling--

Not human.

Definitely not human.

His eyes flashed open and he flinched back at the not--at the--his eyes---he wasn’t seeing how he was used to seeing! It was too...clear? He knew it was night. The colors--He shook his head, heart pounding painfully quick as a snarl left his lips before he could stop it, his other senses going into overdrive as everything began to twitch. His ears, his nose, his--his--

He whirled in a circle, paws slipping on the grass as he caught sight of a long black--A whimper of disbelief sounding in his ears as he stared at--at--

A Tail.

He. Had. A. TAIL.

It was nothing like the one he’d tried to create before. Of course he’d known that. But still. It was--it was moving and he wasn’t sure if he was controlling it or not and he couldn’t get it to stop moving and with his ears twitching at every sound demanding to know what that noise was and his nose twitching as it filled with smells that were both familiar and yet totally unfamiliar at the same time that demanded he needed to investigate so he could figure out just what he was sensing and--he--he---

It was too much.

All that preparation had been for nothing. It was like that nightmare of walking into a final and realizing you hadn’t studied for it at all. He couldn’t do this! This was--

“Whoa, Lo. It’s okay. Breathe, Buddy. You’re okay. You’re doing great.”

Logan shuddered at how his ears flicked towards the voice and away, another soft whine leaving him as he looked up to Roman.

Roman, who’s eyes were glowing as bright gold as any wolf’s in the moonlight as he stood tall, head held high, staring him down, one hand outstretched in a pacifying gesture despite the display of dominance. “You’re okay, Lo.” He said in a low voice, maintaining eye contact, his breath steady despite how quickly Logan could hear his heart beating.

Because he doesn’t know if you’re a threat.

And Roman had been trained to kill threats.

Logan lowered his head, ears laying back as he found himself reacting to instinct, crouching down so that his belly brushed the ground, to appear as small as possible in this...this shape.

The golden light in Roman’s eyes softened as he took a careful step closer.

It took all that he had to stay in place, to not retreat against Ro’s advancement. Not that Logan was confident he could run at this point. As uncoordinated and off kilter as he felt he’d probably end up face planting into the ground after two steps.

Another whine left his throat as Roman crouched within lunging distance, his hand still outstretched.

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” He said with a faint smile. “A lot to get used to. But I know you can handle this, Brainiac. You’re gonna be just fine. I know you won’t hurt me.”

Such Trust.

Such trust for a high school enemy.

And yet---Logan found himself cautiously creeping forward, belly still to the ground as he stretched out his head, instinctively sniffing Roman’s proffered hand.

His ears perked as he tried to place the multitude of scents he found there, far more than should have been on a human’s hands. It was intriguing. So much he could sense with a bare sniff and yet he couldn’t place those smells. It was--He licked Roman’s fingers to get a better idea of just what was on--

Wait.

Logan recoiled, mouth feeling like it was on fire as he gagged, his tail twisting down to hide between his legs. Had he seriously just licked Roman’s hand?!

Laughter rang through the air as Roman reached out, scratching Logan’s ears with warm fingers. “Do I taste that bad?”

He stiffened under the touch, his chest rumbling with a suppressed growl of disagreement. No. He hadn’t tasted...unpleasant. Just the fact that Logan had licked him in the first place was...disquieting.

He closed his eyes, leaning into Roman’s warm hand. He’d been so focused on having the tail that he’d overlooked all other canine behavior he could exhibit with these...extra senses in this unfamiliar shape.

Roman huffed, dragging his fingers down to scritch underneath Logan’s chin before pulling back. “You’re overthinking this.”

His ears laid back, eyes flashing open to glare at him. What did Roman expect? Him to be a crazy rabid feral--he flinched, remembering too late just why he had Roman bring a gun out here.

Because he should be feral. Wild. Aggressive. He was a freaking wolf now. And while he was thankfully thinking more human at the moment, unlike the mindless beast he’d feared he’d become, he was still in a wolf’s body until the moon set and he had no idea how was he supposed to figure this out on his own--

Roman exhaled, shaking his head, his eyes glowing a brighter gold in the darkness as he slipped his gun, still in its holster, from around his waist, tossing it into a nearby bush before Logan could react. “Instinct, Lo.”

Logan stiffened, looking between the bush and his childhood friend before taking a cautious step away from where the gun had fallen. What was he doing?! That was Ro’s only protection against--

Roman’s heart rate slowed as he pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it to the side as he stared Logan down with a half smile. “The wolf won’t remain tethered beneath the human forever. They’re equals within you now. You just have to take a breath. Relax. And--” He rippled like a mirage on a hot summer day before a wolf with reddish brown fur stepped forward to rub his head against Logan’s. ~Trust yourself.~

To Be Continued

#Beneath the Moon #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Logan #Roman #Logic #Creativity #Werewolf!AU #Werewolf!Logan #death talk tw #sensory overload tw #gun talk tw #transformation #shape shifting #Werewolf!Roman

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xuxszx · 4 years

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saturday night |Viktor Drago

Pairing: Viktor Drago x Amia

Words: 4362

Warnings: Smut? (I think so)

Hey, so I decided to share with you all the story that I wrote in Polish. This is the prologue of my "book" about Viktor, but I do not think that I would write it in the near future, and I really wanted to share this part with you because I'm damn proud of it.

I need to apologise for my English, which is not as good as I wish. But yeah, let me know if something is bad written.

Colorful lights offended her eyes, which seemed to be too tired from constantly writing documents that had been buried last week. And the music seemed too loud to her today. Today everything seemed too bright, too loud, too annoying. Work gave her a hard time. She wanted to relax, and a visit to the club with Katya always worked.

Dancing and embracing people is the only thing that Amia simply hated when partying. Couples winding and touching each other on the dance floor did not know the concept of the words moderation or intimacy, and Amia, seeing their boldness she wanted to laugh and vomit at the same time. She had the impression that she was the only lonely girl here who only came to drink and relax, not hunt the male.

Even Katia, her Bulgarian friend, was just charmingly smiling at the tall and well-built blonde with whom she probably intended to spend the rest of the night. And Amia? She just wanted to relax after a hard week of continuous work. She knew she shouldn't complain - she did what she truly loved, but there were days when she wanted to quit it and let it go.

After an hour sitting at the bar, she was honestly fed up. She did not quite know when Katia disappeared from her eyes, and this meant that her crazy friend probably just had one of the best orgasms in her life. At the thought of Amia, she laughed - she didn't know what was wrong with her friend, but every experienced sex in the arms of a strange guy was getting better than the previous one.

People were squeezing past her every now and then to get the bartender's attention and get a drink. She had already waited far too long for her, she wanted to scream at a man who was just trying to get up for a boldly dressed blonde. But what she could do if she caught his attention - she would probably be laughed at. She could leave the club, but then she would leave Katia alone, and she didn't want to. Besides, her plan for tonight was to sit at the bar and she wouldn't move, no matter what.

She called this fucking bartender a few more times, and when he ignored her again, or just did not hear - she rolled her eyes and moaned disappointed. She felt like the alcohol she had drunk slowly escaping from her body and it was not what she wanted today. Was her plan a Sunday hangover? Maybe, but he won't regret it until tomorrow. And now she definitely wanted one drink or even a few ... tens.

"You need help?" hearing a thick, hoarse voice behind her, her skin covered with goosebumps, and her body went through an unexpected and never-known thrill. She swallowed the lump building in her throat and turned to face the stranger. A tall man dressed in a black T-shirt appeared under her eyes, with perfectly sculpted muscles underneath. He was looking at her with his green eyes, which were wild like a predator, and she couldn't squeeze anything out of her. The man intimidated her. He stood so firmly. The energy that emanated from him almost knocked her to her knees.

"It depends on what help you think of" she replied, her voice trembling dangerously, showing the stranger how she acted. He could read it as he wanted, as it was more comfortable for him. However, Amia was aware that the green-eyed man knew perfectly well what was happening with her panties right now.

“Depends on what help you need” his words meant that he was perfectly aware of how it works on the woman, for which she was slightly embarrassed, but she did not want to show it at all costs. The girl snorted loudly, and when she wanted to pass him and go to a secluded place, he grabbed her and pulled her to him. “Is it bad that I want to help?”

“I need a drink, preferably a few. And that bartender doesn't work with me. Can you help me with that, big boy?” A peculiar smile on her face, somehow filled Viktor with male pride. He felt her tremble unexpectedly, and then someone pushed past them, pushing Amia straight into his arms.

"I think I can handle the drink" he murmured in her ear, and the warm breath she felt on her body made her grip his muscular arms. The short-cut man put an arm around her and they went together to the other end of the bar, where he sat her on the only free stool. He whispered something to the young boy, and then sat down next to her.

"Looks like you have an acquaintance, big boy" she said, and when someone pushed her again and she was about to throw a drink at someone Viktor had arranged for her, he grabbed the high stool she was sitting on and pulled him with one hand closer each other. So that her slender knees touched his hard thighs. Apparently, she was supposed to spend the rest of the night that way. Or maybe not?

“Big boy?” he asked, leaning close to her ear so close that his hot breath reached her neck. A shiver ran down her body, and a sly smile appeared on the face of the stranger. He knew perfectly well what was happening with the black-eyed girl. Amia wondered how it was possible that a guy she did not know at all aroused such strong emotions in her. She was angry at herself that he managed to charm her so quickly. Although she didn't know what he was doing with her, but she was ready for him. In every situation.

“You are a big boy, aren’t you?” she replied feistyly, pretending it didn't affect her, even though her own body was cheating on her. She continued to fight for her honor and image. She was never one of those girls who has many sexual partners. If she loved, she loved her whole life, she never had chance sex in the club bathroom and she didn't regret it.

“I have the impression that you want to find out” he murmured for a long time and do not know why Amia's eyes flew to his crotch. She felt her face cover in crimson red, and the man watching her closely smiled aggressively. The young woman did not quite know what was happening to her. She felt unprecedented excitement, and her body begged her to fall into the arms of a handsome guy. However, as long as she was sober, she knew that she would not allow herself to spend Saturday night with this man.

"Has a big boy like you has everything as big?” she winked at him, and then she rested her head on his shoulder as another person pushed her. Unknowingly, she inhaled his scent and felt like whining. He smelled like a combination of tobacco, saffron and cinnamon, which balanced the crisp note of bergamot and grapefruit. The first thing that came to her mind was that this is how a real man should smell. There was an element of savagery in Viktor that had a tremendous appeal and Amia didn't quite know how to deal with it. She put her hand on his hard thigh and whispered in his ear that she needed another drink.

"If you want to find out, just ask" he replied, placing his hand on her hip, and with the other hand gave her a colorful drink that was definitely going to confuse her in her head. Viktor, seeing Amia slowly sipping another drink, ordered something stronger for himself, but it was still too weak for him. Russian blood flowed in his veins, alcohol was inscribed in his DNA.

"And how would I find out?" Amia asked, pretending she was completely unaware of the overtones they exchanged. She also pretended that this huge, in every sense of the word, man did not affect her at all.

In this way they banished themselves in their company definitely too much time. Viktor kept giving her alcohol when she asked for him. But he did not deny himself. Although as an athlete he should not exaggerate. He knew that very well, but he was human too, and like every human being sometimes needed a moment of oblivion. And it looked like he was going to spend the evening with Amia. A drunk girl asked a whole bunch of stupid questions, but did it bother him? Not necessarily. Seeing and hearing her pearl-like laughter he felt sincerely happy.

"Do you think that if a snail crawls over another snail's mucus, it may have an orgasm?" she asked, drinking one of the many high-percentage drinks. "Do snails have an orgasm at all?"

"I think that's enough of this alcohol for you, huh?" He said when she quietly asked him for another drink. The girl wrinkled her nose funny and looked at him slightly surprised.

"You refuse me, big boy?" she muttered, looking at him provocatively. Alcohol could be felt from them for a few good steps, and Amia, feeling the vodka in Viktor's heavy breath - moaned quietly, feeling the escalating contraction in the lower abdomen. Even smelling alcohol, he was too sexy to stop working on her. His hot breath was felt by every, even the smallest part of the body. She did not quite know when and how she climbed his thighs and looked straight into his green eyes. "Dance with me."

"Are you sure you can stand up?" he replied, running his nose sensually across the hollow of her neck. The black dress she was wearing tonight was sliding dangerously up her shapely thighs. Viktor was the one who made sure that all people didn't see her pants or buttocks.

"I'm sure you won't let me fall, big boy" she smiled flirtatiously at him, got up from his lap, which wasn't an easy task, and pulled him onto the dance floor, which now seemed less populated to her. It didn't take them long to find a free piece of parquet. Amia immediately felt the music flowing through her body. She moved her hips to the rhythm of club music, and the partner behind her admired the goddess dancing in front of him. He was genuinely fascinated by her. He admired her body and felt his hands itch to touch her.

Viktor dangled her neck with hot breath, and he placed his hands on her narrow waist, then pulled her small body to him. Amia held on to the strong arms of the man who just got dizzy. Oh why the hell did he do that to her? For her, it was an unsolvable puzzle at the time. She decided not to think about it and deal with it only in the morning, when she sobered up and was worried about the possible consequences. In the end she felt drunk enough to fall into his huge arms.

"You'll fall, but straight into my bed, beautiful" he said returning to one of her accents, then gently brushed her lips, which further aroused her desire. Viktor was perfectly aware of how he acted on the woman and consciously took advantage of it, with small gestures he drove her crazy. And he honestly liked how she reacted to him. He wanted her in his bed, no matter how irresponsible it was.

"Is it a proposition or a statement?" she asked, feeling his hand slowly sliding down her buttock.

"I’m taking you away from here, sweetheart. This is a statement" he replied, squeezing her buttock and stifling her soft moan that escaped, firmly squeezing the kiss on raspberry lips. He pulled her toward the bar, said something to the bartender, and then the two of them were on their way to the room Amia had dreamed of when she saw the green-eyed man with huge arms.

As soon as the door to the room closed behind the two of them both stopped playing the chase. Viktor immediately embraced her with his arms and pressed her tightly to the wall. He had never felt so fascinated by a woman he did not know. Her body clad in a black short dress with a huge neckline tempted him since he noticed her almost black hair and a bored face as she sat at the bar and waited for the bartender to kindly serve her. He ran his hand over her firm ass and pressed him firmly against her, and she felt a substantial erection moaning, which made the Russian want to fuck her on this wall. But first he had to try what it tasted like.

He reluctantly moved away from her, and she watched carefully what he was going to do. The crimson covered her focused face as Viktor kneeled slowly in front of her and rolled up the black fabric of the dress. He touched his finger wetly with excitement on the girl's femininity and purred like a purebred cat - understanding that she was already ready for him. Mouth began to mark the wet path on her thighs leading straight to her hot and moist womanhood. Impatient, wanting to feel this piece of her female body, he pulled off the black-haired lace panties and ran his nose over the hill of ready cunt.

Amia felt as if he was smelling her, and although it was a bit strange, she felt incredible excitement. She couldn't wait to see what this handsome Russian wanted to do with her. She drew a sharp breath as her pleasantly warm tongue caressed the tender clitoris. Viktor, seeing his partner's condition, embraced her thigh and put her on his shoulder, so he could kiss and caress her more accurately. Amia desperately clutched her strong arm as she felt her legs slowly refusing to obey her.

Green-eyed clung to her womanhood more strongly. None of his previous women smelled so good and tasted as good as Amia. She was sweet, really sweet, and he didn't know how it was possible, but at the moment he didn't feel like thinking or thinking about it. Not now, when the woman in his arms had the first of many orgasms he wanted to offer her tonight.

Amia felt like she was in her private heaven, to which only Viktor, who was dealing with her femininity, had access. She never thought it could be that good. His tongue was so accurate and so agile that every time he moved, Amia got chills and thought that she would get so much damn pleasure from hell. For the piece of heaven she was in, she knew she would go to hell. Viktor, his tongue and agile, but strong hands confirmed that it was worth it.

As the boxer pulled away from her femininity and licked his lips, she moaned miserably. She was thirsty for him, and earlier she thought it was impossible. To want someone so bad is probably unhealthy, but at the moment she had it somewhere. She was only thinking about what it would be like when he finally found her. When finally his strong body pressed her to the mattress and the room was filled with sounds of faster beating hearts and emotions that both of them wanted to muffle.

She waited for this moment. She did it subconsciously from the beginning of their accidental meeting at the bar. There was something about this man that made her legs soft and wet his panties. But now there was definitely no time to think about it. She pushed the head of the black-haired girl away, and then she was pressed again to the wall behind her. Feeling like hard muscles pressing on clad only in black material breast dress, she gasped quietly.

When he bent to her to kiss her, Amia was not idle and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. She didn't like the fact that he was wearing too many clothes. With one movement she pulled the black fabric over his head and put their lips together in a madly greedy kiss. Amia had the feeling that she was getting greedy with Viktor. His divine body tempted her and now, she didn't want to resist him anymore.

She was crazy about his arms, breasts and stomach, and when she felt the skin under the man's fingers - she pressed her fingers harder against him. The deep depressions and protrusions winded her up tremendously. And he could not let such a beautiful woman act alone - to some extent he was a gentleman, so his hands also did not leave the woman's red-hot body for a moment. The man's rough fingers that squeezed her buttocks made Amia move her hands to the strong muscles and force her nails hard.

Viktor could not wait for the thirsty touch of the body, he lifted the woman and sat with her on the huge sofa. Amia, sitting comfortably on his thighs, grabbed her rolled up dress and took it off her body.

The Russian, seeing bare and protruding nipples, could not resist and embraced one of them, for which the woman moaned and moved her hips, pressing against his penis, which caused great pressure in the man's pants.

Drago loved to play with her wonderful body. He couldn't understand how this beautiful creature could get in his way. He never felt so crazy when touching a woman's body. Amia delighted him, she was naturally beautiful - with her dark brown hair, with her black gaze and something he couldn't define. She had a drop of mystery combined with a hint of undiscovered love.

Green-eyed, encouraged by her sweet moans, wanted to touch and tenderly kiss her other breast - but Amia stopped him, embracing his face with her hands. For a short moment she looked him straight in the eye, and seeing that they changed their intensity slightly, she kissed him violently. Their lips moved quickly and very passionately. None of them has ever experienced something so sharp, full of passion and passion. They both wanted to touch their bodies. They both wanted to satisfy each other. So was there something that could stop them? Not necessarily.

The air was filled with wild passion. Their primal instincts worked at greater speed, and pleasant warmth enveloped the hearts of lovers. Amia was much softer and more subtle to him than Drago was for her. She touched his body with the same admiration and adoration, but she did not act as quickly as a man. Kissing him and his strong arms, which she was wrapped tightly, gave her great joy.

She wanted to give him more, much more. More herself, more touch, more passion - and although it seemed impossible, the tenderness of her calm gestures towards the boxer exerted a pleasant feeling on him and a kind of attachment to the black-haired woman. Her wet lips moved to the man's neck, and her warm tongue studied the structure of his skin, which was just as perfect as on a muscular chest.

A faint murmur escaped his lips as his mistress bit his skin lightly. Drago closed his eyes for a moment, feeling such great pleasure. Never before, kisses affected him that much. So, what was in this beautiful goddess that he got hard to see her? Her delicate skin had a milky-cream hue, and the number of dark dots on her arms and breasts made Drago want to touch her again that evening, but now Amia took the initiative. She didn't stop touching the man's hard body for a moment, glided her lips over his rough skin, and ran her tongue over the hollows on his stomach.

Like magic she unbuttoned his pants. She wanted to be even closer to Viktor, and he didn't mind. He was delighted at how the woman looked at him with her black eyes and how sensually touched his skin. He lifted his hips, helping the woman slide off her pants, and she immediately pulled off his boxers. He eagerly indulged in the pleasure Amia gave him. She acted on him in some strange and unexplained way and wanted to lead him to the edge, see his reaction and it seemed that the boxer was unknowingly pushing his hips towards her.

When Viktor's pants and boxers disappeared from view, Amia put her hand around his penis, and he gasped in surprise. Amia already knew that she was not mistaken in saying that the big boy has everything big. When her lips touched Viktor's swollen penis, he shuddered at the intensity of that touch. Silent moans escaped his lips as the woman sucked hard on the hard cock. Drago had the feeling that he had never known something so intense before. The girl focused all her attention on making him pleasure and he liked it damn well.

The boxer felt that he couldn't bear more pleasure. The woman's mouth tightly embraced his penis and her hand stroked his testicles. Amia was delighted at how the man reacted to her tenderness. She wanted to give him more. She licked and sucked him until she felt him clench his hands tightly on her shoulders, and then a slight salty substance flooded her lips.

When Amia released his penis from the mouth, Viktor pulled her in such a way that her head was above his. He kissed her vehemently with the passion she had already gotten used to. He pressed her tightly against him, and the girl gasped softly into his mouth when she felt her stomach still hard penis. Drago smirked at the kiss and bit her delightful lips.

They couldn't wait for their bodies to stick together.

"Do you have condoms?" She asked, breaking their kisses. Amia was pretty drunk, but that didn't make her stop being responsible. After all, she didn't want to be a single mother. She looked at the man, and when he showed her the blue packaging, nothing prevented her from spending the rest of the Saturday night in his huge arms.

Amia took the condom from his hand and put it on the lover's penis. Drago immediately put her on the couch under him and rubbed her wet pussy with his fat dick.

"Don't tease me, damn you" she growled softly and pulled his head to kiss. She kissed him eagerly, as if someone could take her away from her. However, this was impossible. Drago wanted to kiss, caress and love her divine body. He wanted to hear her moaning, pleading and even begging him to give her even more himself. Her voice affected him as much as her body. He had the impression that she was created especially for him. And the way she bent her body under his touch was just confirmation.

"Do you want me?" He asked quietly, and the fierce smile on his face showed that Drago knew perfectly well how he acted on her and how much the woman wanted to feel him. He brushed her pulsating femininity again, and apparently it was enough for Amia to feel chills.

"Like damn" she murmured to his hot lips. A second later she felt him slip into her sharply. He wasn't gentle, definitely not - and Amia loved it so much. She wrapped the boxer's hips upside down and pulled his buttocks closer between her thighs. She didn't need much time to come second time. After all, the boxer was extremely good at what he did with her body. Drago, seeing in what state she was, tenderly embraced her body and kissed the girl's skin gently. He bit his earlobe slightly and moaned loudly as she dug her nails into his buttocks.

He liked her - full of lust and passion. He saw that she wasn't pretending anything. Every moan, every bite of the lips was uncontrollable. She was just perfect for him, and he had only known her for several hours.

Viktor entered her with strong thrusts, celebrating her beautiful body. His hands did not leave her body, and his lips wandered around the neck and neckline of the black-eyed. He wanted her to remember that night for a long time. He wanted that she would not let anyone else touch her. He wanted to be the only guy staying in her warm bed, but he knew he could do nothing. After all, it was only one Saturday night. One and only night, and then he would forget about those black eyes, beautiful eyes and wonderful body.

Amia felt that she would not be able to walk for the next week. The boxer moved quickly, violently with a wild passion and passion she had never had before. Her previous partners were not like him. Not so handsome, not so passionate and did not look at her as he did. She was always in serious relationships. She thought those guys loved her and she loved them. But was it true love if it ended quickly and never felt such desire towards them? Could she call that feeling at all? Since only with this man did she feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. The way he looked at her and touched her made Amia get rid of all complexes.

Their hot breaths filled the room, and sweaty bodies couldn't tear themselves away. They both had no idea what was happening to them, but neither of them wanted to stop it. Amia screamed loudly as Drago moved harder and harder inside her. Strong and steady thrusts led them both to the edge. The dark-haired woman clung to his strong arm, as if she could fall at any moment, and Viktor looked adoringly at this woman and dreamed of nothing more than to bring her to the desired orgasm once again.

Well, he didn't have to wait long for his little dream to come true. After a while they both climbed to breathlessness. He froze, clenching his eyelids - and she shook under his powerful body and scratched him hard on the back.

Then he kissed her hard and took her to a huge bed, in which they definitely did not intend to sleep.

Let me know, what you think ♥

#viktor drago x reader #viktor drago #victor drago #florian munteanu x reader #florian munteanu imagine #xuxszxfanfiction

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parablesoftheone · 3 years

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Daoist transcendental meditation in “Light of the Eyelid”

(Hi and welcome! This should be my last long, involved post for a while—gotta get back to work after Christmas break—but a couple of shorter ones are in the works for later.)

Introduction: Daoist meditation and the motion of return

Returning is the motion of the Dao Yielding is the way of the Dao. The ten thousand things arise from being. Being arises from not being. —Dao De Jing #40 (pg. 43)

Of all the Mushishi stories to feature kouki (光酒, “light saké”) and the river of light, this one perhaps offers the most clues to their possible origins in Daoism, and specifically in Daoist transcendental meditation practices—which, it turns out, are quite dangerous, done improperly.

In “Light of the Eyelid,” Ginko communicates across the river of light with a little girl, Sui, who is several days’ travel away. Both reach this transcendental state by closing their “second eyelids,” retreating to a realm of absolute darkness, wherein the river of light appears. This river we know to be a vein of kouki, the essence of life itself and the source of vitality in the physical world.

The connections to Daoism here are many, beginning with the idea of “return to the source,” which appears throughout the Dao De Jing and is the foundation of many Daoist meditation practices. Dao De Jing verse #16 is often taken as a description of meditation:

Empty yourself of everything. Let the mind become still. The ten thousand things rise and fall while the self watches their return. They grow and flourish and then return to the source. (pg. 18)

In Daoist cosmology, life emerges from the un-manifest, or what in the first verse of the Dao De Jing is called “darkness within darkness” (pg. 3). This is yin, the “primal female,” and the source to which Daoist meditation aims to reconnect.

That the “true darkness” and the river of light in “Light of the Eyelid” refer to the origin of life is unambiguous. Ginko says that Biki has watched the river too, in a time before his memory, and earthly life flourishes where the river flows. The episode’s references to a distant past when it was common to see the river of light also echo the many references in the Dao De Jing and in Zhuangzi to the people of old and their closeness to life’s source. From Zhuangzi’s Inner Chapters:

“Among the ancients, knowledge was very deep. What is meant by deep? It reached back to the time when nothing existed.” (tr. Feng and English, pg. 30)

Ginko and Sui’s retreat to the darkness through which life flows is thus easily connected to the Daoist “return to the source” of life.

The Way of the Light Saké

I won’t attempt here to outline the wild and crazy history of the Daoist alchemical/meditative practice called “The Way of the Golden Elixir.” This paper is comprehensive and will be linked many times below. Fortunately, the interpretation I believe Urushibara-sensei to be drawing on in Mushishi is the most fundamental: The “golden elixir” is the essence of life itself, accessible via a “return to emptiness” (pg. 51). This is the approach that directly links “Golden Elixir” practice with the “return” of the Dao De Jing (pg. 46). This process is

“frequently illustrated through the metaphor of the creation of ‘a person outside one’s person’ (or ‘a self outside oneself,’ shen zhi wai shen), which represents the attainment of transcendence and is defined as the ‘true person’... (pg. 52)

Ginko and Sui can be seen as performing just this kind of transcendental meditation, manifesting themselves outside their bodies into the “true darkness” of the source and alongside the river of the essence of life.

True Yin and True Yang

The “true darkness” and “alien light” of the state through which Ginko and Sui communicate can also be linked to this form of meditation. Golden Elixir practice seeks, in various ways, the unity of the primordial True Yang and True Yin (pg. 25)—that is, the two primal forces, represented as light and darkness respectively, that exist beneath all manifest things (the world of yin and yang we perceive). The pure darkness and strange light of the light flow can be seen as analogous to this True primordial Yin and Yang—especially given Ginko’s words in S1 E19 “Thread from the Sky,” in which he describes the mushi as “lying on the border with yang.” This boundary between primordial light and darkness is, as Sui says, where the mushi live.

Seeing this connection in “Light of the Eyelid,” we can understand kouki as a reference to the “golden elixir”—which can be either an internal force or an external substance, and which, in various uses, can also heal illnesses or even confer immortality (pg. 4), as a seed “containing the light flow” does in Mushishi S1 E9 “The Heavy Seed.”

Kouki (光酒, “light saké”) could also, if we like, be taken as a play on words and a reference to yuanqi (元氣), or the “Original Pneuma” propagated “into the ‘ten thousand things’”— a Daoist term meaning “everything that exists”—and concentrated in Golden Elixir practices (source).

So what happened to poor Sui?

This sort of transcendental meditation is no game. Warnings abound (pg. 49) about practicing it incorrectly, and the writings of Lü Dongbin, one of its founders, are especially suggestive. If, he says, a practitioner is able to free “the form of an infant resembling oneself” to “travel through the universe... unhindered through the ten directions,” but at the same time does not know the dao, they are at risk of being beset by a “sharp, cutting, and piercing [wind that] enters through the forehead...” If this wind does not destroy them, the next danger is “a poisonous fire, which rises from below and enters through the top of the head, attacking the internal organs... The pores and the hairline are instantly turned into ashes” (source, pgs. 80–81).

In “Light of the Eyelid,” Sui first suffers stabbing pain in her eyes when exposed to daylight and then, after walking into the river of light (”fire from below”), from her eyeballs disintegrating into a powdery, smoking blackness. Given the warnings above, she might be said to have gotten off easy—although somehow surviving these trials is acknowledged to be possible. (pg. 81)

Ouch.

As she does with other lore, Urushibara-sensei traces the origins of these warnings to mushi, in this case to a nasty-looking scorpion-snake, manakonoyami-mushi, that infects eyeballs too long exposed to darkness and the river of light.

The danger of emotions

Why did this happen? Lü Dongbin warns that the afflictions he describes come from practicing transcendence without keeping to the dao. As he emphasizes, a critical part of this is maintaining emotional control.

Emotional detachment is no small part of Daoist practice. This mindset is described by Zhuangzi as wuqing—literally “without feelings,” but actually meaning that one is not dominated by desires or preferences (Hall and Ames pg. 47). Ginko demonstrates a capacity for this kind of control: While he routinely expresses mild irritation, when something truly distressing happens, he’s... still only mildly irritated. See, e.g., S1 E21 “Cotton Changeling,” when he gets freaking stabbed and not only barely reacts, but shows no subsequent resentment whatsoever.

Not only is this preternatural emotional stability characteristically Daoist, it’s essential for transcendental meditation. Lü Dongbin is aggressive about the danger of emotions and the need to remove them from the root, likening them to “parasites”:

If you try to control emotions forcibly without extirpating the root [desire], you control nothing but outgrowths. This is like a flood of water: if you try to dam it without stopping the source or clearing the flow, eventually you’ll be drowned. It is also like a blazing fire: if you try to beat it out without removing its fuel or cutting off its path, you’ll just increase the force of the flames, so that you’ll be threatened at every turn.” (pgs. 90–91)

Only when the mind is free of “defilement and attachment” is one able to “crystallize the great elixir” in a transcendental state. This is not to be attempted without guidance in the dao (pgs. 88–89) to ensure the stability needed to avoid danger.

We can see the dangers of emotions, and specifically of desire, affecting Sui from the start. The river of light’s attraction is strong—she has to be warned away from its shore repeatedly, and Biki, after even a brief glimpse, wants to stare at it forever. Because she’s so drawn to it, Sui fails to moderate the time she spends looking at it, and thus becomes infected by the manakonoyami-mushi. This is bad enough—but it’s her grief over Biki’s illness that prompts her to do what Ginko repeatedly warned her not to: walk into the “poisonous fire” of the river of light, resulting in her infected eyes being reduced to ash.

As Lü Dongbin warns, desires and attachments are indeed dangerous.

Last notes

So, we can trace much of what we see in "Light of the Eyelid” to the concepts and lore of Daoist meditative practices. But at the root of all this, we simply find one of the major ideas seen throughout Mushishi. The incompatibility between “return to the source” and the emotional bonds and complexities of the modern human is one of the series’ many explorations of the conflict and the search for harmony between human beings and the “way of nature.”

Ginko personifies a hope that such harmony is possible—he’s neither devoid of emotions nor prey to them, neither indifferent to Sui and Biki’s suffering nor incompatible with the river of light.

Though given how many times he saw Sui across the river, it’s possible he just wanted to be able to meditate in peace.

#mushishi #spoilers #stabbing #daoism #light of the eyelid

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sol-luminosus · 4 years

Text

Same verse as that of ‘Creep’. Happening first chronologically before they ended up on the hallway. Only that this is a Hananene version.

A look into Amane’s own point of view of love.

Title: Lego House

Fandom: Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun

Pairing: Hananene

Genre: Romance/Angst

Rating: T

Chapters: 1 (One-shot)

Summary: And out of all these things I’ve done, I will love you better now.

Yugi Amane was captivated.

It coiled and coiled and turned in the very expanse of his chest, gripping his heart so hard and so intently that he was positive his chest would burst into a thousand pieces at any given minute.

Nene was gazing at him questioningly, tilting her head of glittering silver locks so a few strands would cascade and slightly obscure her face as it waterfalled and framed the edge of her cheek.

He’d resisted the urge to tuck the stray pieces at the back of her ear.

Just by a moment’s brave surge of will to control himself.

Amane simply answered her concerned expression and previous barrage of questions about his well-being with a gentle smile, hoping that his beguiling expression would be enough to ease the worries in her mind.

He could tell however, that his strained effort had failed, given by the way her brows had furrowed further in a mixture of what seemed to be annoyance and worry from having something clearly hidden from her.

Indeed, the eyes were windows to the soul.

His in that very moment, must have been filled with desperation and longing. Perhaps at least surely, only those two emotions had leaked out.

She couldn’t have seen it, he was positive.

He’d never let her see it.

The clear and vulnerable emotion of love he’d tried so hard to will down and forever entomb in the very depths of his heart. It screamed so deafeningly, almost numbing his senses at times and making him forget of the actuality of things.

That he was dead and Nene wasn’t.

That his future was long gone with his wishes to remain rooted to where he is now as the only thing he should cling to,

That he had let go of his dreams to fly to the moon a long time ago.

A few decades which oddly, seemed to span for as long as an entire lifetime.

That at the very least, he knew he had the power to alter Nene’s fate.

So that he won’t drag her to the same empty abyss that he had long accepted to be irrevocably submerged in until the day he’d received his judgement.

This journey to redemption was and his alone. It will and would have nothing to do with her.

For a moment, he was sure his heart had swayed. When she’d regarded him with those iron-willed gems for eyes expressing her desire to live her life the way she wanted with a lifespan that could barely be a fistful, Amane just couldn’t seem to peel his eyes away from her. She’d called out to him—reached out with those two hands clasped together as if in a fervent prayer.

The same position as she had back when she’d first summoned him in the bathroom stall.

And all the while, although it was her own wish that should have nothing to do with him, she’d undauntedly declared that she would no matter what, journey to the moon together with him.

He knew he’d seen them before. On that very night however, they’ve shone and glimmered much more blindingly than they’ve ever before. The stars in her eyes had enthralled and bewitched him so that at that moment, he was certain he’d forgotten about anything else for a split second.

That he wasn’t the infamous Honorable No. 7 called Hanako-san.

That he was simply a child burdened with a sacrifice far too heavy for him to carry than what his small shoulders could have handled.

That he was just Yugi Amane, a socially awkward teenager who was in pieces and had eyes which reflected an unsettling amount of wisdom for his age.

And she was just Yashiro Nene, a girl with her head up in the clouds in search for dreams of true love and a promising long life ahead.

But he’d only forgotten for a split second.

How he’d wished, that he could’ve told her with all the honesty and transparency that his resigned heart could offer, that he was content enough with seeing the entire universe in the depths of those two luminous, ruby eyes.

Those very eyes he’d come to love ever since he was just at the tender age of nine all those years ago in that festival.

“Hanako-kun, what’s with you today? You keep spacing out for no reason and there’s clearly something wrong. I’m not going to stop prying unless you tell me—“

The sudden boisterous noise of the bathroom door swinging open and slamming on the wooden wall had both of them jumping out from their positions.

“Oi, Hanako! This is bad. Nii-san is out on a rampage right now because the mokke are running wild in the student council office. He’s talking about ‘exterminating all spirits’. What if he goes after you during his crazy fit?”

The golden specks in Amane’s eyes had turned dark with mischief, hovering over to the loud intruder in the name of Kou with a teasing expression and fingers touching his lips in a bid of mockery.

“Oh, what’s this? You’re suddenly so worried about me? Could it be? Are you in love with me?”

The blonde haired boy had reddened a dusty shade of pink from both shock and embarrassment, before the bellow of his voice had come booming in a strong effort of denial. “I am not, you crazy apparition! Maybe my brother’s already tried smacking you before I came here that’s why there’s suddenly something wrong with your head. In the first place the one I love is sen—“

His sentence had been cut off none too curtly, with an audible slap of skin ringing through the four corners of the room from having a palm slammed flatly over Kou’s mouth, effectively silencing him down. The leader of the School Wonders could barely show any sense of sympathy for the exorcist’s angered protests from the evident pain of having his teeth graze and split the skin of his lips.

“Oh, look at the time. Shouldn’t we hurry over to this mokke massacre you were talking about?” Amane had animatedly declared, glancing over to the wrist of his free arm where a nonexistent watch was strapped.

Kou had struggled to wheel away the hand clasped so tightly over his face. If he’d had the sense to be as livid as his brother would be in situations like these, then he’d be absolutely convinced that Amane had actually tried to suffocate him just to get him to stop talking, with the sheer amount of pressure he’d used reminding him far too irksomely of wood glue.

“What are you saying? We haven’t been here for long. In the first place we should hurry up and think of a strategy firs—“

For the second time on that afternoon, Kou had found himself being stopped midway of his musings, only having to have realized then that Nene had been in the bathroom all along. His eyes had grown wide with startlement, before having the familiar creep of a blush climb its way back up to his face with the difference in shade ten times as strong compared to the previous flush of color he’d donned just minutes earlier.

His dimwitted self which entirely lacks self awareness had almost confessed to her indirectly and in the middle of a bathroom of all places. Nene had only stared at him with an exasperated expression, a combination of what was obviously that of displeasure from the two of them bickering nonsensically and the urgency of the situation which they were very, very clearly stalling at that moment.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right! Let’s get going already.” Kou had laughed nervously to himself, the embarrassment hiking further up in his throat with his voice clearly about two octaves higher than normal before speeding up and out first out of the bathroom.

“What the heck was that about? Is there something wrong with my face?”

“Other than still looking human and not resembling a radish yet, I think you’re perfectly fine.”

Nene had turned to him with a brief look of irritation, before harshly spearing him on the head with the sharp ends of her hair pins.

“Hmph, stupid Hanako-kun acting all weird and suddenly calling me a radish, again.” She’d grumbled in frustration under her breath, with an injured Amane cradling his head in his palm and having his complaints about Yashiro’s ruthlessness ignored to be whisked away by the wind.

In the midst of his half-heartedly hurt reverie, his thoughts had peddled back to Kou’s would-have-been confession, noting how easy it was for him for the words to flow and cascade from his mouth.

And he was certain that had he been not there and the setting at the very least, had been somewhere that wasn’t as peculiar and off-putting as a bathroom, then the blonde boy would have not hesitated. He could picture him perfectly in his head, the words which Amane had kept from spilling running freely with his heart completely exposed and in its rawest for her to have as her own if Nene would willingly accept.

The very thought of her responding and reciprocating his feelings had caused an unutterable amount of fear to brew in Amane’s chest.

For he who was nothing more but a sham that could merely falsify and imitate what little of his memories could correctly recall as ‘life’, Kou was the living, breathing counterpart to his lies—someone who actually had the ability within his reach to promise her happiness.

He knew, and frankly, he didn’t really need to be reminded.

It was never a competition from the beginning.

And Amane was neither a willing contender.

His eyes in the shade of a precious mineral had darted on her back, watching with a somber fondness as the slope of her slight shoulders further sagged from her dipped mood exclusively caused by him just minutes prior.

Amane’s stare had narrowed in a sentiment of strangled affection, one that he was absolutely terrified for anyone or anything to ever decrypt from him.

“Maybe just for a little while. If it means I can keep you, I can stay in love with you for a little while longer.” The words had gone out and died in a whisper, coherent but with every syllable surely indistinct enough for anyone other than himself to understand.

She’d whirled her head around in query, certain that she’d heard him speak but not quite catching his words as she’d been lost in her own embittered sighs and grievances over the grating spectral being.

Amane had simply smiled at her, that same tenderly lonely smile he’d given her earlier that day when they were in the bathroom.

And Nene had only felt the same sting of emotion she’d felt back then as well; puncturing and aching yet beckoning her to him at the same time.

Creep: (Same verse/Tsukanene version)

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darknessofbnha · 4 years

Text

I’m coming

Requested by @todogirl707 “ Hi! I just stumbled across your blog and I already love it 💞💕uhm the bio said requests were open so if it’s not too much to ask could you please do a scenario fic with todoroki shoto where the reader gets kidnapped ? And then he has to save her? Or something like that ? Again if this is too much feel free to ignore it

Thank you so much for the request and I’m glad you like my works! I hope I won’t disappoint you! 💞💕

I’ll take the chance to tell you guys that I’m working on the requests. Don’t worry. I just had finals, and still have them, which is why it’s taking time ^^; I don’t think I’ll be refusing requests (unless I’m inexperienced on the topic or extra uncomfortable) so don’t be afraid to go wild haha~

Word Count: 2247 Warnings: kidnapping; blood; gore Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

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He would never forget when it happened. The memories wouldn’t even leave him to dream peacefully. They would come crawling and wake him in cold sweat with a shout stuck in his throat.

You were someone he held dear. You had been there for him when he needed support. Never mind how many times he refused, how cold he used to be, you never left his side and stubbornly clung to him. You had overheard his story during his confrontation with Midoriya at the Sports Festival and you weren’t afraid to tell him after it was all over and to once again offer him your support and friendship. He was grateful and before long, his feelings manifested into love. He loved you unconditionally. He didn’t know how to express himself though.

When you got burnt by Dabi while your little group was trying to save Bakugou and Tokoyami during the Training Camp incident, he got so angry with both the villain and himself for not confessing his feelings earlier. The thought of something happening to you and him not being able to tell you that he loved you scared him. So during that night, at the hospital, he held your hand, as you struggled to not fall asleep due to exhaustion, and confessed. It was awkward but also cute and it made you smile and laugh which was more than enough for him. He was happy that he made you happy. And that’s how you started dating.

Everything was so perfect when you moved into the dorms and you two got to spend every minute together.

But the Universe always has to put people through challenges. To test them. And it happened so suddenly that it took your breath away and swept you off your feet.

The news had been blasting about a dangerous villain who managed to kidnap people easily. Nobody knew how or what Quirk he had and it was causing big trouble. What was even more troublesome was that his victims were very young girls, obviously virgins. Rumors were that he was a crazy Satanist using virgin blood to summon demons. Perhaps a bit farfetched but it wouldn’t be surprising if it was the truth considering that the world was full with insane psychopaths.

Your Quirk was powerful – very powerful. It allowed you to manipulate earth and Kirishima often joked and compared you to Toph. Speaking of Kirishima, you were very good friends. Your quirks were compatible as well. He was the best defense and you were the best offense. That’s why the two of you decided to intern together, choosing Fatgum.

“Hey kiddos, what do you say we go out tonight and eat some takoyaki?” grinned the hero and you and Kirishima nodded vigorously while Tamaki only smiled softly in agreement. And the four of you ended up walking and chatting while eating, inhaling the aroma of the street food and absorbing the lively atmosphere. Even though it was night time there were many people out.

“Oh, I’ll go buy some ice cream!” you exclaimed when your eyes landed on the colorful, creamy texture of the ice cream and the boys nodded, telling you their favorite flavors.

“Why don’t you guys go buy some waffles and other sweet things while I get your ice creams? I’m dying for sweets tonight,” you offered and they laughed before walking away. And that’s when you heard it – the most melodic, soothing and beautiful voice.

“Beautiful, sweet girl, come to me,” it swayed on the wind and tickled your ears, beckoning you to follow it. And you did.

“Hey, little lady, where are you going? I’m still not finished with your ice cream!” exclaimed the seller but his voice got drowned. Everything got drowned, fading in the background in the shape of a dull lull as your brain concentrated only on the man calling you.

“There you are. I knew you would come,” came in the voice from your right and you slowly turned your head to look at the man. He was young, tall, very handsome with his sun-kissed skin and light blue hair tied in a low ponytail. Even under the fancy suit the muscles were visible.

Your legs moved on their own. You weren’t sure if you even felt your body at this point. You were completely entranced. You came to stand right in front of him, leaning your head on his chest and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into him when his arms encircled you.

“What a good girl. No resisting whatsoever,” he chuckled and it sent pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Let’s go home.”

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“What do you mean gone?” whispered Shouto and Kirishima sniffed, looking at the ground. “What do you mean gone, Kirishima!?” shouted the boy this time and the redhead grit his teeth, letting the tears fall.

“I-I don’t know! She was with us a-and a few seconds later s-she was just gone!”

When they had returned to the ice cream parlor, you were gone. They had asked the seller but he had been able to only point at the direction you had gone towards. They had run immediately but there had been no sight or sound from you. Nothing. They had immediately contacted the police. By now it was obvious that you had been kidnapped by the same villain that was terrorizing the town.

Shouto was numb. He stared at his classmate before his eyes moved to the floor, hands clenching so hard that his nails dug into his skin, forming crescents that bled. He was both freezing with fear and burning with anger.

“I have to find her,” he muttered but when he tried to pass through Kirishima, the boy stopped him.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t do anything! Nobody can! Because no one knows anything about this villain!” cried out the redhead and Todoroki grit his teeth.

“Move,” he grit out as he attempted to pass but Kirishima held him again.

“Todoroki!” before he could say anything else, Shouto threw him the iciest glare. Kirishima and the others, who had been watching the display with tears in their eyes and shaking forms, didn’t even have time to be shocked when Todoroki encased all of their feet in ice.

“That’s not cool, man!”

“Don’t do that, Todoroki-san! It’s dangerous to go out!”

Their shouts fell on deaf ears because at the moment, Shouto’s mind was clouded with the thoughts of finding you and killing the bastard who took you.

He barely got past Aizawa and the Hound, leaving UA grounds and going to the place where everything happened. He narrowed his eyes as he rattled his brain about the possibilities of this villain’s quirk.

“What do you have so far?” he asked himself quietly as his brain brought up all the news he had read so far. Many of the cases were mysterious because nobody was there to see what happened. But there were a few cases when there were witnesses and all reports stated that the girls were going on about their day when all of the sudden they stopped and switched directions, walking towards something or someone as if in a trance. From what the ice cream man had told Kirishima, you had reacted the same way.

“Walking towards the source as if in a trance, huh? Is it like Shinsou’s Quirk then? Mind control?” he mused, rubbing his chin. “But if it was mind control there should’ve been some form of contact. She was surrounded by crowd. What kind of contact can one create in a crowded area. Even if his quirk doesn’t require an answer like Shinsou’s, or eye contact like Aizawa-sensei’s, there still should be some sort of cont-“ he gasped lightly. But of course. It has to be his voice. His right side grew colder and colder, frost seeping from his feet, covering the ground gently and baring footprints.

“Hold on a bit more, Y/N. I’m coming,” he vowed quietly, cold, smoky breath sipping through his lips.

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You hissed, the stinging pain causing you discomfort. It was one thing getting hurt while fighting because the adrenaline was not letting you experience the pain, at least at the beginning, and completely another when someone was slicing at your body with a blade.

“That’s right, princess. Bleed some more for daddy,” he smirked, licking his lips impatiently as he squeezed your wrist, causing the blood to flow harder and making you feel dizzy. How much did he bleed you? Two, three, five times? You didn’t know. But he made sure to do it often because you couldn’t use your quirk in such condition. That and it gave him immense pleasure. You couldn’t understand him. Did he enjoy drinking blood? Was he offering it as a sacrifice? Was it part of his quirk or something? At this point you didn’t care. You knew that you were going to die. Nobody knew anything about this villain. There were only speculations about his quirk. No one would walk through these enormous mahogany doors and put an end to this.

“We’ll continue later. I have something else to do now,” he grinned at you as he left the golden goblet on the cabinet next to you before he moved to the bed and laid down next to what you assumed was a girl. You willed your vision to clear. Yes, it was a girl – probably his previous victim – and she was dead, chest torn open as if the bloody eagle was performed on her, drenching the sheets in red.

“Isn’t blood beautiful? Don’t you want to be surrounded by it all the time?” he asked you and you barely managed to shake your head, a scream of horror trapped in your vocal cords. “Don’t worry your pretty little Y/H/C head. You’ll be joining her soon,” he laughed and a tear slid down your cheek.

And at this moment, the doors burst open, getting completely shattered by sharp shards of ice. Splinters showered the occupants of the room, causing the man to shout enraged.

“Who has the audacity-“ he didn’t get to finish because more ice came towards him. The man evaded gracefully to the left, only to be engulfed in flames, making him scream. Before he could get serious burns, the flames were extinguished and he was quickly encased in ice from head to toe.

“Shouto,” you whimpered and smiled shakily. The boy’s head snapped, eyes widening. He had been so insanely worried but thankfully you seemed to be alright. When he actually reached you and took a good look at you, he realized that, no, you weren’t really ok. You were covered in slices and bleeding. He saw red. He twirled sharply, fully ready to shatter the ice alongside the person trapped in it when your voice stopped him.

“Please, Shouto! It’s not worth it! Don’t put a bad name for yourself before your career has even started!” you pleaded and he gulped, lowering his hand and turning to look back at you. You shot him an encouraging smile, trying to signal him that you were alright. He didn’t say anything as he burned the ropes and scooped you up in his arms. The police and other pro heroes were swarming the place for investigation and arresting the villain. Shouto was angry with himself for taking so long to notify the police of what he found and to formulate a plan. And you could see that he was blaming himself, that he was angry and disappointed with himself. You wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me,” you whispered as you cupped his cheek. That made him stop. The two of you were far from the beeping sirens and the bustling cops. “I’m ok. Nothing happened to me. Just a couple of cuts that Recovery Girl can heal. You did well, Shouto. You saved me. You are my hero,” you told him gently as you snuggled into his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat that was slowly beginning to calm down. He pressed a kiss to your temple and tightened his hold on you.

“I’ll never let anything happen to you again. I promise,” he murmured and you encircled your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and kissing him on the cheek.

“I’ve no doubt.”

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You were accepted with happy cheers and a cake from your classmates. They literally threw you a party and it made you so happy. They were truly a blessing. Poor Kirishima blamed himself and you had to smack him over the head a few times to get it through his thick skull that he was not to blame.

It was the first few nights that were the problem. The very first night, you had a nightmare and you snuck into Shouto’s room. He had had a nightmare too and gladly accepted you into his embrace.

“I can’t get this girl out of my head. That was… the most horrifying scene I’ve seen. I dream of myself in her stead,” you sniffed and Shouto hugged you tightly as if imagining you melting into his embrace so he could protect you from the world.

“I dream the same,” he admitted quietly and you looked him deeply in the eyes.

“We are going to be ok. As long as we are together, it’s going to be ok,” you whispered hopefully and he gave you a smile – that little pretty smile he had reserved only for you.

“Together then.”

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha todoroki #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero x reader #mha #mha x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shōto #todoroki

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thepandapopo · 4 years

Text

A Step Through Time - Chapter 1: Visitor

Me: Don’t do it

Brain:

Me: Don’t do it.

Brain:

Me: We haven’t even finished the other one yet-

Brain: HERE’S A SYLVIX IDEA THAT YOU NEED TO WRITE SINCE IT’S PREVENTED YOU FROM DOING ANY MEANINGFUL WORK ALL DAY.

Me: FUCK.

Pairings: Sylvain x Felix ; minor Claude x F!Byleth

Warnings: mentions of masturbation/sex; typical Felix swearing.

Synopsis:

When Felix agreed to go back into the past to make sure certain events during the war actually happen, he expected that he would be the only time traveler at the monastery for those three moons. What he did not expect was for his 6 year old daughter to send herself to the past 4 weeks after himself because she missed him.

The one where the post time-skip gang meets an older Felix Fraldarius from the future who tells them he’s there to help for a few battles for reasons he can’t explain and everyone’s dying to figure out who the hell he’s married to - wait, what the fuck he has a daughter?

Some notes:

Verdant Wind / Azure Moon route mash up. Basically the Golden Deer Route but then at the Battle of Gronder (Ch: Blood of the Eagle and Lion), Dimitri joins up with Claude.

Dedue is back. Dimitri isn’t crazy anymore. Rodrigue is unfortunately dead.

All characters are recruited (including Black Eagle students)

Next Chapter (coming soon!)

XxXxXxXxXxX

It takes roughly two weeks for the Resistance Army to fully wrap their heads around the fact that there are not one, but two Felix Hugo Fraldarius’s at the monastery.

It takes them another week on top of that to come to terms that the newest Felix to join their army is from the future. 12 years, to be exact.

The day that Future Felix - that’s what they’ve dubbed him and he thinks it’s ridiculous; who has time to say that mouthful? - arrives knocking on the monastery gates, the entire place goes into an uproar. Claude and Byleth aren’t entirely sure whether or not this is just some dark magicks that the Empire has cooked up in a sad attempt at espionage, or if something has gone so horribly wrong in the future that they send their prickliest general back in time to whip them into shape.

Claude insists on tying him up which Felix grudgingly accepts, because of course this all seems a little far fetched - no one has ever heard of time travel magic...at this point in time anyways. And like everything else Felix does, it just makes them even more suspicious of him because the Felix they know would be hissing and spitting at them with all the fury of an angry wyvern if they even tried to touch him, much less restrain him.

Funnily enough, it’s his past self that manages to convince them that he’s the real deal.

“This is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.” Younger Felix crosses his arms and glares at his future self, as if his stare alone could dispel any illusionary magic with its withering intensity.

It’s a bit weird to be on the listening end of his scathing remarks rather than saying them. But technically he is saying them... or at least the past him is, so really is it any different?

“Well, unless you have a better idea, I think this is the best we’ve got for now.” Claude shrugs and runs a hand through his tousled hair for the millionth time that day. “If he really is you, then he should know a secret you’ve never told anyone, and you can confirm it.”

Byleth nods from her place next to the Alliance leader, “We can’t wait until Lysithea and the others find an answer in the library. It could take weeks before they can confirm that any of this is possible through magic.”

More like years, Felix thinks to himself. In his timeline, time travel magic is still a completely new thing. In fact, the only people who know anything about it are a select few that Dimitri, Byleth, Claude and Linheartd trust with their lives. The only reason he’s here now is because the green haired mage had somehow stumbled upon a rift in the flow of time while conducting some experiments. Fearing that this small bump could have dire repercussions to the past, it was decided that they would send someone back to Harpstring moon of that year to help along the events that were yet to unfold.

Between the people who knew and who were available, it ended up coming down to Felix or Sylvain.

Unanimously, they all voted for Felix. (”Hey! I’m totally trustworthy!” “We know that, Sylvain, but with your reputation for having a silver tongue, none of them will believe you.”)

And now here he was 12 years in the past, tied up to a chair in the Knights hall in front of the fireplace, patience running dangerously thin at the bickering that has been going on for hours.

“Fine,” his younger self grouses with a scowl fierce enough to make a grown man cower. “But he’s writing it down and none of you are allowed to stand close enough to read it.”

It’s a smart idea, really. And if Felix knows himself, then he knows that the quickest way to get to the end of this whole fiasco is to write down a secret his younger counterpart is too embarrassed to admit out loud.

Thankfully, Felix has plenty of those from that time.

From before things become official with Sylvain.

From before he becomes Felix Hugo Fraldarius-Gautier.

A mercifully short moment later, his hands are free and he’s rubbing at the tender muscles where the rope bit into his skin.

A small inkwell, quill, and piece of parchment are placed in front of him by a silent but wary Dedue and Felix nods in thanks before his younger self more or less shoves everyone back a good distance so they cannot read his secrets.

It is silent other than the occasional pop and crackle from the low fire. Hard, piercing Amber meets warm liquid Amber, neither willing to look away, one gaze filled with distrust and jaded bitterness, while the other watches with silent empathy and understanding.

Blame it on his husband’s bad influence, but Felix can’t help the growing desire to tease his younger self. (Which he knows is absolutely hypocritical because he hates being teased but Sylvain was right when he said it is just so easy.)

“How much do you want me to reveal?” Felix dips the tip of the quill in ink and pauses, the tip hovering over the parchment ready to spill secrets only the two of them know.

“...I’ll tell you when to stop.”

It’s a free pass to go wild, is what Felix hears.

There are so many things that he could write. Ranging from the priceless family heirloom he accidentally broke and hid when he was child all the way to some of his more embarrassing training mishaps - one of which involved him falling and stabbing himself on his own goddamn sword - but despite all of the memories that flash through his head, one in particular stands out the most.

For the second time that day, Felix curses his husband and his perverse influence before scrawling out:

Bedside table. Second drawer. Third notch - press hard to release the fake bottom.

Images of a very familiar flask of oil that has seen many restless nights flash across Felix’s mind. And if the red flush on his younger self’s face is anything to go by, he would bet everything he owned that he was also thinking the same thing.

A beat of silence. “Not enough?”

Felix is honestly a little impressed. He was sure that his secret sex drawer would be enough to mortify his younger self into believing him.

Fine then. He could bring out the heavy artillery.

The first time we realize we are in love with Sylvain is when we are 15 and figure out that the burning rage we feel every time he talks about his latest girlfriend is actually jealousy.

He pauses for a moment to look up at younger Felix. Receiving no response, he continues writing.

The first time we realize how absolutely fucked we are is the morning after the training session where Sylvain takes off his shirt and we dream about -

Ink splatters on the table and over his gloves as the parchment is unceremoniously wrenched away from him and immediately tossed into the fire.

“He’s real” are the only words the new Duke of Fraldarius manages to sputter out between the fingers hiding his burning face. The poor boy looks like he wants to spontaneously combust and also let the floor swallow him whole.

Felix almost feels bad. Almost.

----

The days following can only be described as incredibly odd as Felix wanders the familiar - yet different - grounds of Garreg Mach. He helps where he can with the chores and spends the remaining time either at the Training Grounds like usual, or just simply chatting with his friends of old.

A few times a week he will accompany the troops and assist them in their various missions eliminating bandits or Demonic beasts that have wandered too close to their base. Though he is older now, Felix has never slacked off in his training regimen, not even after the war ends, and his current skill and mastery of swords and Reason are more than enough to deal with these minor nuisances.

All in all, Felix is enjoying himself.

...Except for how much everyone keeps pestering him to reveal things about the future.

“Ooooh, do Claude and the professor finally hook up?” Hilda is leaning across the dining hall table with the biggest shit eating grin on her face, the sausage breakfast in front of her completely forgotten in favor of even juicier gossip.

Felix sighs for the umpteenth time that morning and cuts into his own plate with a bit more force than intended. “Hilda. For the last time, I can’t tell you anything specific in case it fucks up the future.”

“But you’ve already told Annette that she goes on to teach at the School of Sorcery and Mercedes opens up an orphanage!”

“Yes, and that’s because I want to make sure those things actually happen.”

“So what, you don’t want Mr. Leader Man and the Professor to finally knock boots?!”

To his right, Dimitri chokes on his toast at the mental image Hilda conjures.

Much to his relief (or dismay), Dorothea chooses this time to slide into the seat to his left along with Petra.

“Are we interrogating Future Felix again?” The Songstress doesn’t even bother hiding her mischievous glee as she eyes Felix the same way a predator would prey.

“No, we are not.” He glares at the former opera star, cursing the fact that his friends have already figured out that the years have more or less mellowed out his bark and that he has a LOT more patience before he actually bites.

“Aww, come on. It’s basically a breakfast tradition now! Nothing like a side of future gossip with my tea to get me going in the mornings.” Dorothea winks at him before a flash of flaming red near the food line catches both her and Felix’s attention.

“Hey Sylvain! Felix! Come sit with us.” She waves them over and nudges Petra to scoot over to make room.

“Is there anything you guys want to know about the future?” the pink haired Great Knight asks as soon as the pair are seated.

“Oh tons,” Sylvain winks as he picks up his fork and twirls it loosely in his hands. “But the real question is if Future Fe over there will actually answer them.”

Felix lets out a humorless snort. As if he would.

He makes a point to actively avoid his younger self as much as possible because he isn’t sure if it will affect his timeline in any way. Unfortunately, that also means that he has to avoid Sylvain.

Seriously, how did he never realize that they were basically joined at the hip? Where one went, the other was never very far.

It was a fucking miracle that no one had figured out his lifelong crush on Sylvain considering how much time they spent in each other’s company.

But then again, considering everyone’s surprise at how many of them ended up paired off after the war... maybe they were all just that blind. Or stupid.

Thank the Goddess they were all blind and stupid.

Felix manages to fend off most of their prying inquiries, snapping only a few times at Hilda and Dorothea who don’t know when to stop, but everything truly goes to hell in a handbasket when Mercedes comes by asking the group if there is any equipment or armor that needs cleaning since she’s on duty this week.

“Oh, yes actually.” Felix seizes this opportunity and begins pulling off his gloves to hand to the Bishop. “I need the ink stains removed from my gloves. I never managed to find time to properly clean them since the first night I arrived.”

He isn’t aware that he has done anything wrong until the table goes silent and everyone is staring at him, or rather his hand, with a mixture of disbelief, shock, pleasant smugness, and overall general bewilderment.

“What are you all...” His question trails off when he realizes that his wedding ring - the one that he always wears under his gloves - is now out in the open, the plain obsidian band glittering innocently in the morning sunlight filtering through the windows.

“You’re... married?!”

Oh fuck.

----

“So who’s the lucky girl?”

You like Annie. Don’t murder Annie.

Felix swings his training sword against the practice dummy and lands a clean diagonal hit.

“Ohhh, I bet it’s some noble girl from the Kingdom.”

You like Thea’s opera shows. If you kill her now, you won’t be able to see them after the war.

Stab. Feint. Slash.

“No, Felix doesn’t care for dainty noble girls who don’t know how to fight...”

Thank the Goddess Ingrid is still reliable as ever.

“Maybe it’s a guy?”

Nevermind. Ingrid is the devil.

Duck. Side step into a zig zag pattern approach. Upwards slash.

“It’s... forgive me if I am overstepping, but I am happy that you have found happiness in the future, Felix.”

Don’t kill your king. Regicide is a crime.

Retreat backwards. Dash in for the final blow.

“Yeah! Congrats Felix on finally getting laid!”

It’s only when Felix snaps his training sword in half at the blue haired warrior’s comment that his sword training session turns into a brawl training session.

----

The Fraldarius Duke has never been more relieved to receive a call to action than when Byleth rushes in not long after Future Felix gives Caspar a shiny new black eye.

“Bandits. In the sealed forest. Civilian involved. Gates, now.” is all the warning they get before she is sweeping out the training room doors, no doubt going to retrieve her own equipment.

After 5 years of being at war, they are all seasoned soldiers and as such, it doesn’t take them very long before they are rushing towards the site of the battle.

They have foregone the usual battalions in favor of only deploying their former classmates, allowing them to move much quicker through the dense vegetation.

Up ahead, they can hear low voices talking and what sounds like muffled sobbing. Byleth signals them to slow down and get into position - it’s one of their usual strategies: approach undetected, surround the enemy, and then close in to eliminate.

It isn't until they get close enough to hear the sobbing more clearly that Felix feels his heart leap up his throat.

He knows that sound. He’s heard it a million times over the past 6 years at all times of the day.

Please Goddess, he prays as he creeps closer with more urgency, ignoring Claude’s alarmed look, let me be wrong.

Of course he isn’t.

Raw panic seizes his chest as he recognizes the little girl with an ornate sword strapped to her back cornered under the jagged overhang of a large rock, her long wavy hair a crimson beacon amongst a sea of green and brown, and Felix is running before he can even formulate a plan.

“Come on, little girl... just give us the sword and we’ll let you go,”

“N-no! Papa gave m-me this sword!”

“Well then I hope you’re ready to die-”

Electricity crackles through the air and his body falls to the ground before he can finish his threat.

“Sophie!”

Large, watery honey gold eyes lock onto his and suddenly the battlefield narrows. For one agonizingly long heartbeat, Felix watches the little delicate, red nose he loves so much scrunch up, and he can already hear the tearful wail that comes next.

“PAPA!”

Then, all hell breaks loose.

---

There were very few of them that could say they had the privilege of watching the Felix from the future fight prior to the current battle. Felix - the younger Felix of this timeline - is not one of them.

However, as he watches his older self weave through the bandits like liquid steel, mercilessly cutting them down with cold rage, he cannot help but compare it to his current skill level.

He wonders how many more battles he will have to go through before he reaches that level of deadly grace.

“Watch your left!” Sylvain shouts at him from somewhere to his right and Felix grunts as he parries a hard downward strike of an axe.

His feet flow through footwork long ingrained in his mind and in the next moment, he has slipped past the bandit’s strike range and shoves his sword through his chest.

A clean, quick kill.

Felix is actually rather grateful for the distraction of a battle. But despite the battle cries and sounds of metal on metal clashing around him, he still cannot silence the one thought he’s sure is going through everyone’s mind.

He has a daughter.

He has a daughter in the future. A freaking daughter.

A little girl whose hair is unmistakably the same obnoxiously beautiful colour as those of the Gautier lineage.

Who in the actual fuck does he marry?!

The question rings in his head over and over again as he fells enemy after enemy, and by the end of the battle, he still has not found reprieve from the shock that he is grappling with in his mind.

Felix is not aware that he is unconsciously searching for familiar golden brown eyes before the knot in his chest dissolves when he spots Sylvain cleaning his lance off to the side.

But just as quickly as that knot disappears, another one takes its place.

Because as much as he loves Sylvain with all his heart, there’s no way that even if by some miracle they get married in the future that they can have a child together.

Which means that either Felix has married a distant cousin of Sylvain’s or Sylvain has a daughter that Felix somehow ends up taking care of.

And since Felix knows that he would never be able to love or marry anyone other than his childhood best friend...

...that leaves him with a very bitter pill to swallow.

----

“Papa!”

Sophie is wearing her favourite teal dress with the little swords embroidered on the hem, and even though it is now caked entirely in mud, Felix cannot bring himself to care as he falls to his knees and cradles his daughter tightly to his chest.

“Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Calloused fingers fruitlessly brush away the steady stream of tears on Sophie’s blotchy cheeks, the salt water clearing some of the mud away as Felix scans for any injuries.

She shakes her head twice and continues to sob into his chest and he continues to hold her while stroking her hair gently in gentle, calming caresses. Even after this whole fiasco, Sophie’s long waves somehow look as beautiful as ever and a distant part of Felix’s brain wonders if it’s just some inherited Gautier genetic to always looks good no matter what.

“Felix! Goddess, who is that? Is she okay?” Ashe runs up to him, Mercedes and Ingrid not far behind him with equal looks of concern in their expressions.

Felix shakes his head, “I’ll answer questions later. Mercie, can you take a look over her right now and make sure she has no injuries? she says she’s okay but she’s probably still high on adrenaline.”

It is the first time in Mercedes’ life that she has seen Felix look this concerned for another person’s well being and she’s already reaching out with warm white magic even as she nods, but as soon as her hand makes contact, Sophie flinches further into Felix as if burned.

“Sophie. Sophie, it’s alright. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

It takes a little bit more coaxing before she pulls away far enough to look at him.

“Hey,” Felix nudges her temple gently with his nose. “It’s alright. You remember Auntie Mercie, don’t you? Auntie Mercie would never hurt you. She just wants to make sure you’re not hurt, okay?”

If Mercedes has any reaction to being called Auntie, Felix is thankful that she does not outwardly show it.

“It’s okay, Sophie.” The healer flashes her a soft smile. “I promise this won’t hurt a bit!”

It’s only when Mercedes manages to start her healing spell that Felix lets the tension and fear seep out of his body.

There are so many questions clamoring around in his head, like how in the world is she here in the past and where the hell is his husband who is supposed to be watching her in his absence, but all of that will have to wait until they return to the monastery.

And, if the matching strangled, heart-broken looks on his younger self and Sylvain are anything to go off of, he’s also going to have to reveal a little more than planned if he wants to make sure that he still gets to marry the love of his life.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sorry that the ending seems a bit rushed. I’ve been working on this for 5 hours now and I just want to post it and go to bed (it’s 3AM). I promise I’ll come back to make some edits later!

Next Chapter

Masterlist

#sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #SylVix #felix x sylvain #fire emblem 3 houses #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem #byleth eisner #dimitri blaiddyd #blue lions #golden deer #azure moon #verdant wind #AU #alternate universe #alternate timeline #time travel #future felix #original character

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

Blunt hook

Kai Parker x fem!reader smut

gif not mine

that’s like the first and the last smut I ever write ugh yeet

also I wrote this very cool thing on psychological analysis of Kai’s head bugs. check it out, it’s on my main blog. I love it.

word count: 2788

choking (light), fingering, dom!Kai, female reader

The reader had helped Kai escape hell, so now he’s trying to get her to side with him in everything else, too. However, Y/N is too stubborn, and not afraid of physical pain. Thank f*ck Kai always has a plan B.

The sky was full of Perseids and sound. Kai was taking his time and never hurried himself, but still found it was rather curious how long it takes to get used to a new form of living. Every. Damn. Time. It’s been a couple of months since he got out of hell, and every single day now he was amazed, unmistakably, by the air. I mean, can you imagine? It actually flows right into your nose and then down your throat or whatever. And it tastes so good! Being a vampire sure enhanced all the sensations, too. He was practically happy every day, agitated, even. The only thing was…

He shrugged, distracting himself from the stars and the comets flying ahead in white blinding flashes. What a beauty, he thought, what an unexpected beauty he thought he could never appreciate.

Then he saw her. And the idea came to him. All he needed at this point of being out of hell was a tiny little detail for the ascendant. It was maddening to think that virtually everything he needed was in his hands, except for this teeny-tiny metal hook less than a pinky nail in size, shiny and blunt. Without it, he could not travel back to the prison world. Without it, he could not get the reaper out. Without it, the devil would not let go of him and let him be. And the Boring Faces took it away from him. How insensitive of them not to take his lust for life into consideration.

But her. She might be of use and help. She went out of her way to open the gates of hell to let him crawl out. She went through being tortured, which means he won’t get anything out of her by inflicting pain. Kai had something on his mind though; she was wearing a dress.

Y/N was standing with her head tilted back, almost falling, looking at the cluster of the burning comets shooting through the horizontal line.

A light gust of wind brushed her hair, and then a hand grabbed her by the forearm. Y/N swayed, but managed to stay on her feet, and then she was pulled aside. Kai shot her a mad glance and walked, casually but fast, and she had nothing else to do but follow him, trying to move her feet as quick as possible.

Stalling would take a considerable amount of wit, so she started thinking right away, clutching her purse out of nervousness. Nobody considered her feeling for this nut job. Nobody. N/Y, hold him off as long as you can, but no sweat. Forget what you’ve gone through for him and lie to his face while we betray him yet again. Just stay here between the two flames, nothing special.

She sighed, trying to wiggle out of Kai’s grab, because his fingers bit into her flesh like burning coals. Kai looked back at her, dropping speed a little bit, but his eyes said nothing.

“What?” she gasped, trying to loosen his fingers. Kai didn’t give in, dragging her on towards the shade of trees. People were stepping away politely as they walked, like none of this seemed strange to them. Y/N finally levelled with Kai, but he still didn’t let go of her arm, clutching on her like she could vanish in thin air.

“Talk”, he commanded, throwing her to the side of a tree. He looked out from the shadow, making sure all the lights and the babbling people were left aside, blind to their conversation here. Their noise was still nearly unbearable, but Kai was getting better at focusing every day.

She caught herself, pressing her back to the trunk of a birch tree, and held onto it. Kai’s face as white in the shade, silvered by the faint moonlight and the rare specks of golden light from the bonfires. His eyes seemed completely black, the pupils enlarged, like he was on the verge of screaming form all the smells, and sounds, and the most of all, impatience.

“Start talking, Y/N. Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about”, she tried to make her smile seem innocent and failed, unable to hide the slow excitement that was rising in her. That. That is why she’s completely useless in things like that. She already forgot where they hid the dam detail even if she knew.

Kai grabbed on her purse, pulling on the strap. She barely managed to bend her head to let it slide off her shoulders. One second later, and she would’ve been choked, or beheaded. The vampire opened her handbag, thrashing it with sharp movements. She let out a giggle as he threw it aside, half empty.

Blood ran to her face as the vampire stepped up, closing a shadow on her. His arm flew up and rested on the trunk just above her head, and she felt comfortably caged. Kai licked his lips, trying to hold from acting right away, trying to come up with the most gracious way to get it out.

“Damon and his brother, they hid the last detail from my ascendant”, Kai elaborated,

“Come on, Y/N you know well what I’m talking about. Don’t make me hurt you”, he stared deep into her eyes like a snake charmer.

“I don’t actually want to hurt you”.

“I don’t know where it is, Kai. They don’t tell me. They know…”

Y/N paused, wondering if he could hear her heartbeat. Of course, he could. Irregular, quick, like a little puppy jumping and twisting in her chest, sending bright sparkles to her eyes, because she just can’t hide how much fun this all is. When fear goes away, there’s just fun.

Kai felt, this was the moment she could say something. He shifted; stooping above her, cupping her face with his palms. Soft hair was brushing the backs of his hands as he held her, pleading:

“They know you don’t want me to go back. Right? You don’t want me to go back to hell, do you, Y/N?”

She smiled sheepishly, thinking, what a bastard. He is one manipulative bastard with his blackish eyes and his perfect American chin. He tilted his head like a robot, knowing that was his best angle. Nothing worked. Kai felt her warmth, the hot spasms coming out of her skin, her desire was so obvious it was ridiculous, and yet she stood there, immovable like he didn’t matter. She was good, this one, stamina like a real fighter. Well, he guessed, torture and being alone for some time does that to people. Their skin touched and yet nothing happened, although he could practically hear her insides warming up, he could see the pupils of her eyes widening hungrily, and it made him feel weird, like he was hungry, too.

Y/N kept silent, thinking that would drive him mad enough out of a simple reason. She didn’t really have a plan. After all this is done, she thought, I’m moving the hell out of this cursed hole. She was as tired of the Boring Faces as Kai was, she just hid it better.

“Well”, his face hardened as his hands let go of her face. Kai looked at her, familiar violent glimmering dancing in his eyes. It was hard to tell in the dark whether he was smiling or grimacing. Maybe it was time to run, she couldn’t tell. Before she could decide anything, his whisper cut her ears like a razor.

“Maybe you’re hiding it somewhere here. Under your dress”.

Then his hand slid down so quickly she only felt it when it already was on her left thigh. Warm finger caressed her skin lightly, tracing its way up, until his palm lurked under the skirt. Y/N’s brain screamed: that feels not bad at all. Evident attractiveness of this undead heretic was burning her eyes. She was torn between staying prideful and keeping him at her side – for whatever reasons.

“Why aren’t you fighting me?” his voice brushed her face, she could almost taste its timbre. She bit her lower lip from the inside not to blurt out anything. Let him entertain himself, she’s not going to do his work. This man, this crazy type in front of her, manipulative, always with a plan, awoke a feeling in her, a desire to stand up to him, even if in this weird, submissive way. Well, she’ll figure that out, she thought. It’ll all unfold by itself. Right now, she just knew, she wouldn’t brush his arms off, no matter what he does, or how hard he does it.

Kai gasped comically.

“Are you my distraction?”

A boyish, excited smile brightened his face. It lit with amusement and anticipation.

“What am I supposed to be distracting you from?” Y/N asked in a thin voice.

“Bae, everything”, he blurted readily.

His palm moved just as his eyes narrowed again. There was a shift in his mood. Like a kitten, that’s too young, he really did get distracted. The ascendant detail is important, sure. But there’s this one, propped up against a tree, and he’s curious as to why she’s not running, not giving in. She’s just smirking, almost brave enough to show him what she really wants. Fortunately, he can almost read her mind.

There was hunger inside of him, not only for blood, but an eerie sensation of dryness in is throat; the light-headedness when he realized he’s watching Y/N, but she doesn’t see him. When he’s just an invisible observer, and all she does is his by all means. Being in the crowd, really stop seeing people. Kai did the opposite, and he chose her. If you rid yourself of self a little bit – excuse the pun – you’re free to watch whoever you want. Kai’s seen way more than anybody else. The tip of her tongue snaking in the corner of her mouth, and the curves of her hips as she walked, the wild glimmering in the corners of her eyes. The slender fingers crooking on her cheeks, caressing her own neck. The softness of the earlobe pierced by the golden earring. The thin delicate skin on the inside of her elbow. Her cocky posture, ever-ironic grin letting out deep sigh of her tired, unamused voice.

The hidden soul of that girl was not pure. She was not pure. Kai was wondering if he’d contributed to that.

His hand touched the fabric of her underwear, and he felt comfortable. He pressed his thumb on her pubic bone, wondering, how hard would be too hard.

“Hands on the tree”, he ordered, and her palms were glued to the trunk in a second. Y/N pushed her back against it, trying to move as little as possible. Her thighs moved forward as she leaned backwards, the wings of her shoulder blades colliding with the tree. Kai towered over her like a leopard over a cheetah cub.

“Let’s see if it’s there, do you mind?” he murmured, and Y/N bumped the back of her head against the hard trunk. His fingers pulled her panties down and pressed on her clit persistently. Y/N neck went hot. Kai watched carefully as her nostrils flared a little, like he didn’t know what he’s doing, like it was something alien he was touching. He was trying to figure out the connection between the hunger he was experiencing, and the warm, welcoming wetness of the inside of her. Y/N was thinking about how smooth his skin was. It was so fucking smooth, seemingly perfect to touch. She opened her mouth to say something, but Kai’s other hand immediately pressed on her face, covering her mouth.

“Nah-uh. Keep quiet. Do as I say”.

He made himself horny saying that. He didn’t expect these words out of his own mouth, just as his fingers slid inside of her, and he felt Y/N sucking on the air from underneath his palm. She tried to bite the skin lightly, but swayed, obedient, never looking away. Kai’s eyes were dark and calm, like oceans of Malivore, hypnotizing, eyes with a trace of tragic smile deep inside.

Y/N wanted so bad to raise her hands and weave them around his neck, to hang herself onto him, shifting all the weight, and ride his hand. Keeping still made all her muscles sing a tense melody of pain, making pleasure all the more even, sending it like sharp flashes of color all down her body. She begged to god that she wasn’t shaking, because she really couldn’t tell anymore; she was throwing all her might into not moaning as his three fingers were moving inside, rubbing the sensitive skin, sliding in and out, pinching and pulling. Her right knee gave in, and she swayed again, nails clawing into the bark; Kai took his palm off her mouth and wrapped it around the girl’s throat; her whole neck went into his fist like it was carved for it. He propped her up and squeezed her throat, lightly first, then tighter and tighter, until her mouth opened a little, and his own jaws separated as he looked inside. His tongue pressed against his canines violently, bursting the tip of it and bleeding into his mouth. The hot blood pumped into his face and nose, and he grabbed her by the clit, immersing his fingers inside down to the first knuckles. He was fucking her, they both realized, with his hand, and that was one way to do it. Y/N propelled her hips, giving in to her own screaming body, because that movement was the only one she could think of. The ultimate goal of that one moment was to string herself onto his hand, deeper, deeper, harder, so that he could destroy her, tear her apart.

Kai loosened his hand on her throat just a little, to hear her whimper as her eyes rolled. Biting shiver shot through Y/N’s body, but she was glad to see she stood; trunk of the birch tree was hurting her head, so she tilted it forward a little and gasped for air as Kai’s hand let go of her. Both his hands, to be precise. He rubbed his right hand on Y/N’s thigh, leaving a hot trace of cum on her skin in gentle touches. He couldn’t help tracing the sharp bone of her hip, drawing circles around the tip absent-mindedly. The only way he could now relieve himself was to grab and squeeze her hip possessively, making her groan softly. There was supposed to be hurt. He usually hurt someone as a result of… the process. The normal pattern of events was him standing with his hands covered in thick dark blood in the end of the picture, gratified deeply by the seizing screams, calming his beast down. Pain. Was it something like that? Kai looked deep into her face and read her. He saw that orgasm was pretty much like physical pain, only, it made her show her teeth in a smile.

It was over, Y/N figured; blood was pumping in her ears, and even if he said something, she couldn’t hear. She wrapped her hands around Kai’s neck and rested on him, locking her fingers on the short, soft hairs on the back of his head. Just for a moment, he’s going to belong to her, while he’s whispering his hot threats in her ear. His voice, the scent, the breadth of his shoulders – all hers, just for now, as he’s holding her against this very tree.

“Come on now, Y/N”.

Kai knew he had like three seconds to slither inside of her mind while she’s fragile. While she’s messed up, sweet smell of pleasure and indolence pouring out of her like a syrup; he could as well just lick it off her skin.

“Where is it? Where is it”, he pressed his face against hers, listening to her deep, erratic breathing. He was keeping up with his own noise, confused by the sudden outburst of eagerness and a boner. He had to be focused, but he couldn’t but admire a little this oily, feminine beauty. Her wrists pulsating with blood were so close to his face the smell flooded him.

The bravery of her, though, as she lifted her face and looked him in the eye. Pupils expanded, glistening with lust and mischief. She said:

“I really don’t know. Why don’t you try it with you mouth next?”

The smile curling her lips made the groan wake in the depths of his chest. Kai let the hot air out of his nose, clenching his jaws. He brushed off Y/N’s arms, pushing away, and stepped out of the shadows with an audible roar. The sound of her laughter was ringing in his ears.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #kai parker imagine #legacies

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tirednotflirting · 4 years

Text

you're my golden hour (the color of my sky)

i miss going to concerts and when the fall festival in my city got officially canceled last week, i wrote lashton going to a festival to make me feel better. and then i started listening to Lorde and got emo. enjoy <3

ps special thanks to @calumcest bc i am having an absolute shit 24 hours but helen ur britpop playlist and that comment i found on the doc for this made me feel a bit better this morn x

LAST THING! i went ahead and made an ao3 (finally???) so if you prefer reading things there, you can head that way here

Ashton smiles, feeling the stretch in his cheeks from laughter and the sun that’s been shining on his face all day, and wonders if there was any way at all to top the feeling he’s experiencing right now.

It had been a long but good day. He watches the sun set over the desert horizon, his view waving from the heat from his spot on a quilt in the middle of the festival. Behind him he hears the beginning of some EDM set starting on the opposite side of the festival grounds, the earth just barely shaking from the bass. People pass him from behind as a large crowd begins to form some 100 feet in front of him. It had been a tiring and warm afternoon and evening, and while he was excited to hear this set, it wasn’t anyone he was a huge fan of, so he had made the executive decision to find a good spot back in the area that allowed chairs and sitting.

He watches flags and totems teeter around in the wind, the light breeze cooling the back of his neck. It was nearing the end of the second night of the festival and as he felt the dull ache in his ankles from walking and jumping around all day, he wonders to himself how the hell he is meant to manage another day of this. Maybe he would ask around once everyone got back to the house later in the night if anyone else was feeling their age and maybe wanted to head to the grounds a little ways into the afternoon for the last day? He sighs as he lifts his eyes toward the desert sky knowing that the answer would be a clap to his shoulder and the shaking of heads, his merry band and accompanying crew always somehow maintaining the energy level of 8 year olds when they came down for the festival.

Though he definitely did understand where they were coming from. He wasn’t sure how, but every time he found himself at a music festival (as a fan rather than a performer) the child-like, effortless joy of going to a show would surge through him. The big, sprawling crowds that if he saw in any other context would give him mountains of anxiety, felt like a breath of fresh air even as he snuck his large body between those around him to get closer to the action. The euphoria of a late night set, the only lights being those coming from the stage, with thousands of people all singing along to a song that meant something unique and new to each and every one of them. There was a special kind of magic brought into the world only by running around festival grounds in the desert with tens of thousands of people for a few days every spring. It was the kind of magic Ashton wished he could bottle up to save for cold, late autumn days when he was cooped up in his house, trying to remember what the memories really felt like.

He leans back then, clasping his hands behind his head to rest on, and recalls on the previous day. It had been awhile since the band had had the opportunity to go to a festival obligation-free and they were fully taking advantage of that chance. A house had been rented closer to the city where the festival was held, friends were invited, a grocery list divided up. They spend the Thursday night before the three day festival all trading stories of recent travels and adventures around a fire pit. It was fun to hear what mischief everyone had been up to while they were out on the road.

(Though if Ashton were being honest, he didn’t recall much of what was said following his trip to the kitchen with Luke about halfway through the night when the blonde had snuck in a kiss after shots with Calum. Ashton wasn’t sure if he was more shocked by the action or the lime juice that got left on his lips.)

The morning was spent divvying up snacks and sunscreen, emptying water bottles and tucking flasks into backpack pockets less likely to be checked by security. Or at least that’s what Calum and Ashton got up to while Luke and Michael pressed glitter stickers to their own faces before invading the kitchen to do the same to their boys. All in the spirit of the festival, the former two decided as they giggled while shooting stars and hearts were pressed to their cheeks.

They spend the day mostly just the four of them, the rest of their party having other people to catch up with or promotional obligations for their work to attend to. The merry band of Aussies would never admit it in front of anyone else but they really always preferred to attend shows just the four of them. There was a silent energy that wrapped around them when attending a concert, the same kind of whisper that had brought them together to make music together in the first place. They thrived on it, rode the feeling like a high of sorts.

That first night Michael and Calum decide they want to grab a drink just before the last set of the night is meant to start so they make the choice to just stick to the VIP section until the end of the show. Luke kept on glancing between Ashton, the direction Michael and Calum have just wandered toward, the crowd forming for the show, and back to Ashton so it doesn’t take long for the hazel-eyed boy to place a hand to Luke’s back and guide him in the direction of the sprawling crowd.

Luke had been sipping from a flask throughout the evening and was sufficiently loose and giggly as they find a spot in the middle of the crowd as darkness settled over the grounds. They’re talking through ideas for which sets they should hit the following day when the roar of the crowd picks up as a cue that something is about to happen. Ashton’s lifted his left hand to cup around his mouth to project his yells along with the rest of the crowd and when he moves to raise his right, he finds the limb stuck in place. He looks down to see Luke’s fingers tucked between his own and lifts his eyes to the dazed, happy look settled into the pale eyes of the slightly taller boy. He let a smile pull across his own face and his fingers squeeze around Luke’s hand as Lorde’s dreamy voice floats over the crowd, bright green lights illuminating their faces to tell them what she’d chosen to begin the set with.

Ashton had always felt a special kind of connection to the younger singer’s bright and exaggerated lyrics. The romanticization of youth and glittery nights that flow through her lyrics spoke to him in ways he always wished he could express in his somewhat younger years, the brilliance of being young and in love with everything something that their style of pop back in the day just couldn’t capture in quite the same light. Hearing the songs he was listening to in years prior, when he was pining after the boy just to his right, unable to express just how big his feelings were at the time, it all has his mind spinning.

She starts ‘Ribs’ up on the stage some ways in front of them, the gentle crooning of it drives you crazy, getting old feeling more poignant than normal in that particular moment. The lyrics feel heavy, though light at the same time, like his youth is drifting away in the desert wind while his age - though still quite young, Ashton does recognize - settles onto his shoulders like a heavy coat. It feels so scary, getting old floats through his mind when he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist.

“Stop thinking so hard, old man,” Luke says in his ear above the crowd’s singing. He lets his lips pout against the little hoop through Ashton’s ear lobe before he continues. “It scares me too, but just...live in this for a bit.”

Ashton’s eyes close, the bright colored lights from the stage bleeding through his lids, and he sighs when he feels Luke’s stubble against his cheek when he moves to press a kiss to his temple before returning to bobbing along to the beat of the song. He’ll never understand the way the blonde is able to hear the racing of his thoughts though it's something he’s always been gifted with. Ashton is thankful for it, that Luke somehow knows exactly when to step in to ease his mind for a moment. He’s not sure what he would do without it.

They dance and yell and sing songs about being 19 despite being very solidly in their mid-20s for another hour before the set is over and the desert is lit up with the tall bright white lights above the grounds. They stumble into each other as they laugh and sing, eventually finding Michael and Calum along the way and pressure them into the same actions. Next thing they know, the four boys have piled into a car, repeatedly falling asleep against one another and the plushy seats of the car until they make it home.

The only sober one in the bunch, Ashton plants his boys at the kitchen island, making them all drink a few glasses of water and pass a bottle of aloe gel around to rub at the back of their necks to minimize the griping about sunburns the next day.

(It takes approximately three seconds of whining before Ashton gives in and pats the cool gel into Luke’s neck, chuckling at his whines at how cold it is. A babbling Calum leans his head against Ashton’s bicep while he performs the action, the brown-eyed boy telling him a story about some actor that him and Michael met backstage who bought them shots and knew one of their songs other than “She Looks So Perfect” and “Youngblood”.)

The remaining residents of the house have either ended up at after parties (how people can attend after parties on each night of the festival and still make it all the way to the end is wild, Ashton thinks) or at other houses in the area so Ashton makes sure to lock up after they all vacate the kitchen before heading up to his room on the next floor up.

He’s just slipped into the bed and clicked off the lamp when he hears his phone buzz on the bedside table. He squints against the light from the screen before his features soften as he opens up the picture Luke must have snapped of him toward the end of the Lorde set. He’s in the middle of laughing through the joy of hearing a song he loves, pink lights from the stage illuminating his face. The picture is accompanied by a caption that makes his heart drum some kind of hurried rhythm despite how simply its worded:

you looked so bright

Ashton sits up from the blanket as he hears a drum beat pick up from the stage up ahead, the crowd rising both in volume and height as those who were waiting get to their feet. The lovely breeze he had been enjoying while reminiscing on the day before dies off a bit as it gets blocked by those moving to stand. As a familiar guitar rhythm starts up, he closes his eyes and smiles, still caught up in this gorgeous, delicate moment that he feels so lucky to be somehow living in.

However, Ashton realizes then, as a water bottle gets placed in his lap and a second body drops to his right, that there was in fact a way to top how he was feeling just a few minutes before. The sun has just made its final descent below the horizon when he turns to see the smile spread across Luke’s sun-kissed cheeks.

“You were looking a little spaced out there, Ash,” Luke laughs as he pokes at Ashton’s cheek before shuffling a bit closer and wrapping his arms around the older boy’s neck and leaning in to press a kiss to the sun-warmed skin beside the condor just below his tangled black hair. The high of another music filled day and the tequila in Luke’s belly have him throwing caution to the California wind in terms of displaying his affection. Ashton figures the darkness provided by the hour and the low number of people that had come up to ask for photos throughout the weekend so far were enough justification to allow the tipsy, happy blonde to continue pecking at his neck. “Thinking about me?”

He giggles at Luke’s teasing words, feeling his cheeks warm some more than they already were. Ashton shifts some to get Luke to sit up and look at him. He can’t help the calloused hand that falls to his cheek, his thumb running along his cheekbone, beneath his tired, happy blue eyes. “Always.”

When Luke leans in to press his forehead against Ashton’s own, the crinkles beside his eyes just visible in the flashing lights from the stage far up ahead of them, he finds himself wishing he could bottle up this kind of magic too.

(What kind of magic this exactly is, he has yet to figure out. Though Ashton thinks he maybe might have a word for it. Maybe.)

#lashton #lashton fic #5sos slash #and this friends is what we call projecting #fhdsjkahlas #high key in the middle of the night i am minding my own business #trying to decide what set luke and ashton will be going to in this fic #and my spotify shuffled to the louvre and #then i was like 'ok yeah ash is gonna have an existential crisis while listening to ribs'#and here we are :)#lemme know what u think!

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littlemissmarvelous · 4 years

Text

Save Me

(This is part 2 to grand piano)

The beginning of Bucky and I was quick, passionate, and wild. People thought I was crazy for falling in love with the former winter soldier, and even more insane to be willing to marry him. Sam in particular always joked about how Bucky shouldn’t take that he has a dime like me for granted. I remember when he would laugh and his cheeks would get warm and red before he would kiss me softly. “I don’t think i could ever be stupid enough to lose the love of my life.”

Oh I wish his past self could see him now.

I thought i knew what heartbreak was. I thought it hurt, but that everyone exaggerated about it. That it would mend quickly…I couldn’t have been more wrong. You could see it from a distance; I was broken. It could be seen in the way I moved, the way I tried to get an impression from the overwhelming world around me. It could be noticed in the way I talked a bit softer every time somebody told me to speak up. I was broken, scattered in thousands of pieces, and nobody was there to pick me up again.

It’s been three days since and I haven’t left the solace of my bed. I know I need a shower, and a decent meal but my body is aching and my eyes haven’t really taken a break from crying. A loud knock sounds, making me groan at the fact that I indeed have to get out of bed. Trudging to the door, I peek through the peep hole to spot a very anxious looking redhead on my doorstep.

“Hey Nat.” I say after opening the door.

“Hey? Just hey after having not heard from you in days? Me and Steve have been really worried y/n, but we wanted to give you space.” I nod and quickly apologize. I didn’t intentiontially shut them out...it just works better for me to be on my own at the beginning. Her green eyes scanned my appearance and the state of my home before going to my face.

“Are you doing okay, y/n?”

The dam breaks.

I sob and whisper, “I can’t stop hurting, Nat. This hurts so much. I miss him but I don’t want to be near him. I love him but I also fucking hate him and I don’t know if I want him to hold me or stay the hell away from me because half the time my skin crawls now at the thought of his touch...knowing he placed those hands on someone else. He was giving his heart to someone else while I was stupid enough to believe I was the only one.” At the end of my spiel I was gasping for breath. Word vomit has a funny way of knocking the wind out of you sometimes. She frowns, eyes still trained on me. “I’m going to make you some tea okay? Go shower and maybe we can go somewhere, yeah?” I wipe my tears before replying, “yeah okay.” Turns out that shower was a godsend and much needed.

Nat ended up taking me to brunch that was filled with delicious mimosas. “You know what?” I ask.

“What?” She smiles.

“I want to go out tonight. Out out.”

Nat thinks for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah let’s do it. Get you back in the game, I’m sure Wanda and Sharon would be down to go too.” I grin before yelling, “Girls night!!!” And just like that the wound hurt a little bit less.

Later that night the four of us stood in Nat’s bedroom dressed to impress. She had placed me in a small red dress that had a high slit on the left and a deep v to emphasize my cleavage. With makeup done and heels on, we traveled to the kitchen for some pregame drinks while we ordered the Uber.

“You look absolutely smashing, y/n.” Sharon gushed to me, making me blush. Nat and Wanda quickly agreed with fast nods.

“She’s right y/n, you look like a frigging snack every man there will want to eat.” Wanda teased but winced after earning an elbow from Nat and Sharon.

My grip tightened around my glass, knuckles turning white. Other men. That was scary for me, the concept of other men. Bucky and I had just separated...I was nowhere near ready. A hand on my shoulder brought me out of my head and my eyes met Nat’s green ones.

“Hey, you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. Just have fun okay. That’s what tonight’s about.” I smile gratefully at her and our moment was interrupted by the ding of Wanda’s phone.

“Uber’s here!”

5 shots.

3 mixed drinks.

And 3 Jell-O shots.

That’s how many I had when my legs decided to stop working and my vision was beginning to get fuzzy as I neared a blackout. Dragging myself to our table I fumbled for my phone and dialed the only number I could call.

“Hello?”

“STTTTTEEEVVVEEE!”

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He asked with a concerned tone.

“Mmmphh. I am VERYyyy drunks Mr. Steve ! Wanna shleep.” A giggle erupts from me and suddenly it was hard to stop.

“I’m coming right now. Stay there. Tell Nat I’m coming. “

“Ayyye ayeee my cap!!” I laugh and hang up and look up to find Nat in my drunk daze. Luckily she was already coming my way and I yelled “Natty!!!! Stevie is comin to take me to bed! Okay!”

“Get it girl!” She laughed and with that I made my way to the entrance, holding the walls for support to keep myself up. Once just outside I found a spot against the wall and slipped my heels off my aching feet without falling over. Hugging myself, I pray that Steve hurries up because it was absolutely freezing.

“I can warm you up hottie.” My eyes quickly went up to see an ugly older man grinning at me with chipped teeth and a malicious look in his eyes.

“No thanks.” I quip and look away to the streets looking for Steve’s car.

“Looks like you’re ride ain’t gonna be here for a while hot stuff. I’m real good with my hands. Lemme just warm you up.” He smirked and pounced. His hands grabbed my wrists and pushed me against the wall hard causing me to yelp.

“Get OFF!” I scream. He just laughs in return and his hands go to my dress to lift it up. Tears flow freely from my eyes as I realize what’s really happening and my movements are too slow and my hits too weak because I’m drunk. I’m sobbing at this point and begging him to stop.

It was my second beg and just before he got to my panties that a fist flew to his face and he dropped to the floor in pain. “She SAID to stop!” He seethed.

Steve came just in time. As I stared at him, tears in my eyes, I realized he always was there in time. His eyes went to me and his hand cupped my face as he looked me over.

“Are you okay, y/n?” I nod and all I can let out is another sob. He pulls me in for a hug and holds me tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here quicker. Let’s get you home.”

The drive home was silent but he held my hand in comfort, and I didn’t pull away. When the car finally stopped at the tower Steve quickly turned off the car and ran around to open my door and help me out of the car, wobbly legs and all. Holding me heels in my left hand we slowly walk towards the entrance but before I could get there my legs finally betrayed me and I fell hard to the ground.

I groan. “Aw damn that hurt.” Trying to get back up seemed almost impossible, the alcohol had managed to turn me into a human sized noodle. “Stevieeeee can you help a girl out?” He laughed and I let out a shriek as he picked me up bridal style and walked with ease into the tower. My arms wrapped around his neck and my head found its way to the crook of his neck. “You’re such a sweetie Stevie why don’t you have a girl?” His shoulders shrugged and he hummed in thought.

“I dont think the one I want is ready yet. Or rather if it’s even right for me to act. It’s difficult.” His words made gears work in my drunk mind as the elevator took us up to our floor. Finally reaching my room, he sets me down at the door. “Alright this is it.”

“Steve?” My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are wide as I gaze up at him.

“Yeah y/n?” His eyes lock with mine and my heart begins to race.

“Is...is the girl you’re talking about...me?” My voice shakes in nervousness and my shoulders tense as I await his response. His hand goes to the back of his neck and his cheeks are suddenly pink. Lord he was so cute sometimes.

“Uh...yeah, yeah it is. I’m sorry.” I didn’t think, I didn’t speak, I didn’t even debate it.

My lips were on his before I could even really fathom his words, his hands finding my hips as his mouth moved with mine. After a long moment he slowly pulled away and looked me over.

“Look, y/n, you’re still pretty drunk. I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret. You might not actually like me once the alcohol leaves your system.” His blue eyes are drowning in disappointment, a pang of hurt hitting my heart. “Look, get some sleep, I’ll see you in the morning and we can talk.” His words suddenly sobered me up enough that i had to do what i did next. He begins to walk away but I grab his hand before he could get farther away and halt his movements. I take a deep breath and whisper, “please don’t go.” His eyesbrows go up in question.

“I...would like you to stay. With me. In my bed.” I mumble. I had never seen Steve’s face so red before that very moment since he walked In on Sam and Wanda’s “workout” session. “I-I meant to just sleep. I would really appreciate your company. Clothing on and everything. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

He smiles warmly and takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. “I don’t mind at all, sweetheart. Lead the way.”

Changed and makeup free, I got under the covers and waited for him to join me. He stared at the covers unsure, causing me to giggle.

“Steve, get under the covers silly. It’s fine.” He chuckles and lifts the covers on his side so he could slide in next to me. Both of us lied on our backs after turning out the bedside lights, staring at the sleek ceiling above us. “Hey Steve?” I whisper.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

“Can you hold me?” I ask timidly, not wanting him to think of it weird.

“Yeah,” He opens his arm for me to cuddle to his side, “Come here.” I sigh gratefully and cuddle up to his side as his arms wrap around him. My eyelids and body are growing heavy as the tiredness part of alcohol consumption started to hit me.

“Just to let you know Steve, everything that was said and done tonight...I wont forget or regret it. I like you too. I always have, Bucky just got here first.”

But thank you for saving me, I wanted to say.

Not even a few seconds later I was out like a light. Tomorrow morning was going to be interesting.

#steve rodgers x reader #bucky barnes imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel #marvel fic #steve rodgers imagine #bucky barns imagine #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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b-n-h-a-smash · 5 years

Text

Lustful nights

Warning! Not appropriate for everyone, as it is smut.

She was wearing only a white v-neck T-shirt of Izuku’s and white lacy panties. No bra.

Izuku knew he shouldn’t be looking at her this way. He gulped, trying to break free from his trance.

Her shiny locks were wild, as if she ran her fingers through her hair multiple times. The tee barely covered her bum. However, Izuku got a glimpse of her panties when she raised her hands to run her hands through her locks yet again.

He was horny. God, he was so horny that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Her thighs looked so voluptuous, chest moving up and then down as she brought her hands down again.

He licked his lips, eyes clouded with lust and body temperature growing greater.

That’s when she turned towards him. Her eyes shone a bit, excitement evident in them.

“Hi,” she said with a smile.

“Hi,” he replied shyly, too embarrassed with himself.

“Oh, ugh, this,” she pointed to his t-shirt, “is something I hope is okay with you.”

It was more than okay. It was fantastic.

“You are my girlfriend,” he told her, trying to shake away the feeling of arousal, “I love it when you wear my clothes.”

Her cheeks took a rosey colour and Midoriya couldn’t help but think that her cheeks would be painted the most beautiful of pink if they were to do something more.

He gulped again. He had to stop this.

“So, what do you want to do?” He asked his girlfriend, trying to smile.

“Let’s just sit on my bedroom for a while, I want nothing more than be close to you.”

He did too. Even if it wasn’t anything sinful, he needed her touch.

He sat on the bed, the matress slightly sinking under his touch. The room smelt like her, the beautiful smell he had come to love, the creme colour of the walls and the soft yellow light making him feel relaxed.

“So... What’s bothering you, baby?”

Izuku turned his head back to her direction, the veins of his neck slightly popping.

“It’s nothing great, love.”

“You can always share it with me, you know,” her soft voice made the green-haired male smile slightly.

She proceeded to sit on his lap, kind of surprising him.

“It’s just that I...” Izuku was getting shy, afraid of both her reaction and how it will feel to receive it.

“I got in and saw you in my shirt and your panties and I thought... I-I couldn’t help but think...”

“Hm?” His beautiful and smart girlfriend was waiting patiently.

“I couldn’t help but think how much I wanted to feel you.”

Izuku was staring to the wall to the side, he couldn’t face her. His face was a vibrant pink; he couldn’t believe he uttered those words.

“Hey,” the [hair colour]-haired girl said, her soft palms touching his cheeks, barely forcing his head in her direction. His hands instictively placed themselves on her thighs, stroking them slightly.

“It’s okay, Izu. I want to feel you too. Have had for a long time, actually,” she said, slightly embarrassed, making Izuku blush a tad more.

“Let’s go for it and see how it goes, hm?” She whispered, only a few centimetres away from his lips. At his slow nod and his shutting his eyes she placed her lips on his, officially starting their night full of bliss.

Midoriya didn’t know where to put his hands. Suddenly he was nervous, as if he had never touched his girlfriend before.

“Relax...” she whispered lowly, returning her attention to his lips and placing his hands on her waist.

“Won’t you kiss me?”

And kiss her he did. His lips captured hers in an act of sensual intimacy, stroking circles on her clothed waist with his thumbs.

Mouths molded perfectly on each other, slowly moving. Izuku was so lost in the feeling that he didn’t realise when his mouth opened slightly, their tongues meeting for the first time that night into a risky tango.

They both felt a knot on their stomachs building; was it excitement or nervousness?

[Name] placed her fingers in Izuku’s hair and started stroking it, making him sigh lightly.

He was so... responsive.

Feeling a wave of confidence wash over him, Izuku broke the kiss only to start licking slightly her bottom lip carefully, painfully slowly, as if they had all the time in the world and he wasn’t in a rush.

He wanted to feel it. He wanted to feel every second of this, for it was the start of a euphoric feeling.

Unconciously, the female did something that she shouldn’t have.

She moved front to back, her already wet and clothed core sliding sensually on Izuku’s.

His eyes opened, eyes widening.

Oh God. Here comes the boner.

And her barely concealed core felt it through the thin fabric.

“Izuku..” She breathed out shakily, his name barely audible as her arms tightned their hold around his neck.

“Ugh, [Name]... Don’t moan out my name...” He whispered on her neck, his hot breathe making her hotter.

“It will be hard to stop if you keep this up...”

“You mean... This?” She teased, grinding on his lap. His clothed member could be felt as she rolled on top of it, it becoming even harder.

“Please, oh my... Don’t...” His head rolled back, eyes closed shut and bottom lip sucked into his mouth.

He looked so... irresistible that the wetness in her panties was increasing at high rates.

His boner which he so desperately tried to hide was doing nothing to calm her own arousal.

The effect she had on him was a major turn on, and she wanted nothing more than to feel his fingers inside her, going in and out.

She bit her lip herself. This feeling was so.. good, so foreign to her that she wanted to savour it.

“Izu...” she mewled as his lips travelled down her neck, licking and sucking gently.

“Hm?” he hummed on the sensitive skin, making her take a sharp breathe and earning a smile from him.

“Hover above me?”

She didn’t have to ask twice. In a swift movement she was lying on the bed and Izuku was above her, looking at with an expression that made her shut her legs tight.

Her lips looked slightly swollen by their kissing, tone a bit redder and glossy.

Izuku placed one of his hands on her neck, the other supporting his weight. He took her slender neck in his hand and began moving his hand up and down, in an extremely loose chocking hold.

It was bliss. Her eyes shut and she lost herself in the feeling. Izuku’s warm hand was massaging her neck.

She accidentally let out a moan and Izuku got even more excited.

He accidentally squeezed her a tiny bit and she let out yet another moan, this time louder.

The louder she moaned, the greater his boner would become.

“Touch me...”

Izuku unexpectedly burried his face in her clothed chest, taking in her scent.

“You smell like me...”

“And after this we will smell like each other for a while...”

Izuku kissed the skin between her breasts and then pecked her lips. His hand slipped under her tee and came in contact with her skin. He drew patterns on it, making sure she was relaxed before he did anything else.

His palms felt her soft skin, tickling her. Before she knew it he was toying with her left breast. His touch was a tad rough, taking all her breast in his palm and squeezing it, moving it left and right. He pinched her nipple and that’s when she emitted a small gasp, fuelling his desire even further.

She tugged on the piece of clothing, and Izuku with his superhuman strength tore it off. Her breasts were on full display and he couldn’t help but marvel at them.

Beautiful...

He took one of her nipples between his lips, making her wrap her legs around him and groan. He started worrying it, biting on it, sucking, licking, all the while playing with her other breast.

The girl started palming him through the fabric of his sweatpants, determined to make him feel as good as she did. Even that little touch was enough to drive Izuku crazy, desperate for more friction.

His index finger played with the hem of her panties and then went up and down her clothed lips. His pace was painfully slow, making the girl under him groan in pleasure.

“You are so... wet.”

“You made me so wet, sweetie. You and only you,” she told him sweetly, her head thrown back.

Izuku could smell her sweet fluids, the scent enough to send him to overdrive.

He had watched videos, trying to grasp the concept. He didn’t know how to pleasure a woman so he decided to collect information in any way he could.

Asking his friends would be way too risky.

At first the videos were way too embarrassing for him to watch, and he forced the laptop shut five times for a three minute clip.

However, soon enough he found reading articles such as where the clitoris is positioned and what movements he should try and watching porn rather educating and not something he should feel ashamed about.

He was doing it to ensure that his everything would experience pleasure, after all. This cuteness and innocence of his contradicted the sexy and sinful sketches he drew in the black notebook. At first it was a sketch of a vagina, explaining where the clit was positioned.

As his research progressed, however, he started drawning [Name].

At first it was her beautiful smile and hair flowing in the wind. Soon enough it was her sprawled on his bed, face flushed and ecstatic, legs open wide and pussy so wet, glistening and pink that it made his mouth water.

Izuku had grown increasingly sexually frustrated, all on his own. Nonetheless, his affection for her held him back, taking things slow and nice as if they had all the time in the world.

His sketches however did not do what was happening right then and there justice.

“Let me please you, [Name]...” He whispered huskily, his aura excluding a divine masculinity that had said girl’s clit throbbing.

Without waiting for a reply he kissed the girl’s clothed core, earning a gasp and a moan from her, before hoisting her hips up to discard the material.

[Name] suddenly grew a tad embarrassed; there she was, completely naked, while his parts were covered.

As if he knew what she were thinking, Izuku took off his gray sweatpants, revealing his black boxers. He wouldn’t take those off, not if she didn’t ask him directly. Who knew, maybe she would regret it or maybe she would want to stop-

Midoriya shook his head as he returned back to his original position, above the girl who had self-conciously closed her legs and was covering her chest.

“It’s okay...” he cooed, biting his lip so as not to let himself moan out hundreds of turned on words that would make her blush even harder.

“Just enjoy it... And whenever you want we can stop, okay? You are my priority, today and always,” the little jerk smiled down at her so genuinely that her shiny fluids couldn’t stop coming out.

She had never felt so loved, cared for and horny in her entire life.

“Izuku, I need you...” she said as she relaxed again, opening her legs for him.

“I know, baby,” he chuckled lowly, using his thumb and middle finger to open her vaginal lips. He used his index finger to find her clit, which he found almost immediately as she moaned loudly.

He started with slow, circular movements, first going clockwise and after that, in a twist, he started pressing harder and rotating his wet from her fluids finger in the opposite direction.

Izuku was completely turned on as he watched his girlfriend try to hold back her loud moans.

Suddenly, he left her clit alone, getting a whine from her. He rolled two fingers up and down her lips, taking on so much wetness, painfully slow, making [Name] whine louder and squirm a bit, desperate for some kind of friction.

“Fuck, Izuku! Finger me! Eat me out! Don’t just-” her outburst was soon replaced by the loudest moan so far as Izuku buried his head between her shaking thighs and took a big, hard lick of her wet, shaved cunt.

Her hands immediately went to his hair, tugging at it. Izuku groaned in pure ecstacy, the vibrations and hotness of his breathe making yet another wave of body juices to come out.

And he took in all of it. He inserted a finger inside her as his tongue worked its wonder on her opening, biting, sucking and licking her lips and internal walls.

The feeling was almost too much for her to handle, one of her hands flying to her mouth to stop her from screaming out.

She absolutely lost it however, when Izuku inserted a finger inside her, curiously yet hungrily fingering her, all the while giving her the best oral of her life.

He had no idea he could make her come so undone beneath him, so unfocused and crazy and desperate for his touch.

He could feel his boxers full of pre-cum, his arousal increasing. He went crazy, going faster and faster with his mouth’s movements, now three fingers inserted, and the final touch was messing around with her clitoris simultaneously.

The pink bundle of nerves being hit in the exact right way, in combination with his fast, hard and unpredictable movements had her cum. She felt like she could see starts as she screamed out his name in a way that had even him cum despite not being touched as much.

Izuku was eager to drink all of her sweet fluids, the white ambrosia sweeter than sweet, the greatest reward to his hard work. He fingered her through her orgasm, the knot in his stomach slowly disappearing as he too had reached his climax, which splashed his boxers.

He flashed her a bashful smile when their eyes met, making her giggle embarrassed.

“Don’t look at me like this after... all this.”

“But I am happy.”

“Moments before you were...” her voice grew quiet, her sweaty head pink.

“It’s only a sin if one of us didn’t want it and if one of us is not in love.”

Izuku kissed her throbbing clit one last time and moved so that he was lying next to her sweaty, naked and beautiful body.

“But if you like it, we can sin as much as you want.”

Her head snapped to his direction, eyes wide, mouth open agape.

“Izuku!” She yelled at him embarrassed, hiding under the mattresses.

This is what happiness was. Being one with her, body and soul, combating their shame, fears and everything else together.

He felt so embarrassed, especially when he saw her freaking out by his boxers soaking wet, and he assured her that it was fine.

The image of her orgasming and squirting on his face as she forced his head to stay put was one which he would never forget.

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