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sttoru · 1 day

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Sukuna with clingy concubine 🛐🛐 like hella clingy, always clinging to sukuna, sitting on his lap and just following sukuna like a lost puppy

𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff. little bit suggestive. size difference. reader is clingy, a bit of an airhead ig. reader gets called ‘girl, brat’.

“y’re annoying me, girl,” sukuna grumbles as he walks to the courtyard. you had magically appeared behind him the moment he stepped out of his room to get some fresh air.

you flash him an apologetic smile “i’m sorry, my lord.” you’re not sorry, sukuna knows, though he doesn’t comment on it. it’s been like this ever since a week or two ago. he cannot recall why you’re suddenly so much more affectionate.

he doesn’t wait on you, however, and takes big strides towards the courtyard. if your little legs can’t keep up, that isn’t his problem. you frown and take on the challenge that’s been thrown your way.

you increase your pace and nearly run after sukuna. you have to lift your kimono a little to make sure you wouldn’t trip over the fabric. it doesn’t seem like you’ll give up any time soon as you follow him with that same content expression on your face.

sukuna can’t believe that a human like you dares to even be in his presence for so long. he didn’t call for you, so why are you adamant on staying with him? he concludes that something must be up, “what’d you want from me?”

there hangs a silence between you two afterwards. sukuna’s slow yet heavy footsteps reverberate through the hallway, followed by your quick and light ones. you pout as you notice that the king of curses isn’t even sparing you a glance, “nothing at all. i just like to be with you.”

you add the latter as an afterthought. you don’t expect sukuna to react to that, so you continue to trail behind him into the courtyard. “tch,” you hear him scoff in annoyance. you’re sure he doesn’t mean any actual harm by that, so you don’t take it personally.

sukuna eventually sits down on the engawa, where the servants have placed the comfy zabuton cushions. there’s always one for you as well—right next to sukuna’s. it’s become a habit for the maids to include you in sukuna’s daily routines since you’re always with him.

you eye your own cushion, though don’t make an effort to actually sit down on it. sukuna stares ahead, not bothered to notice you at the moment. you look down at his lap, recalling just how perfectly you can fit on it.

you don’t waste any more time and plop down on his thick thighs, your back against his chest. sukuna’s brow twitches at the sudden contact. his bottom pair of eyes look down at you whilst the upper ones keep looking at the nature in front of you both.

“get off me,” the king of curses commands through a low tone. he doesn’t push you off, however. that alone should tell you enough; he’s tolerating your behaviour as per usual. or perhaps he secretly likes your proximity.

you shall never discover which of the two it actually is.

“nooooooo,” you exaggerate with a whine. you don’t want to. you wrap both of your arms around one of sukuna’s—clinging onto him like your life depends on it. he simply responds by sighing.

you know sukuna’s able to grab you by the collar and force you to sit down on the cushion beside him, but he doesn’t. your heart flutters every time sukuna shows some tolerance to your clingy behavior. it means that maybe—just maybe—he’s opening up to the idea of being more affectionate with you.

“such a fuckin’ brat,” sukuna simply puts one hand on your waist, the others supporting his weight on the engawa. he grumbles, but there are clear signs of him relaxing with you in his presence.

you chuckle at the realisation and swing your legs in excitement. sukuna unexpectedly bites your ear in response to your increased activity on his lap, “stay still or i’ll kick you off.”

you let out a small whimper as you feel his fangs gently sick into your earlobe. you jolt back and rub the skin with your hand, looking up at sukuna with a playful frown before teasing him back. you roll your eyes and answer him with a firm yet mocking, “sir yes, sir!”

sukuna clicks his tongue at your tease. you answer him like he’s some general in the military. that’s not the kind of relationship he has with you—it’s more than that. even though he knows you’re joking, he dislikes it when you call him anything other than ‘my lord’, ‘my king’, or just his name.

he finds great satisfaction in the way you refer to him as such. you’re the only one who can make sukuna grin each time you remind him of his status and the power he has over you.

the power dynamic; it’s addictive.

he needs more of it.

sukuna reaches out to grab your face with one hand, but you’re quick to pull your head back the moment you see that intimidatingly big hand coming down onto your vision. you clear your throat and apologise, “i mean—yes, my lord.”

the king of curses hums in content. that title is exactly what he had been looking for. he retracts his hand and settles it back down on your waist, patting your sides twice to show his satisfaction with your obedience.

you stop squirming around in his lap and simply lay back down in his arms. you close your eyes and nearly fall asleep because of the comfortable atmosphere. the slight breeze against your face is relaxing and perfectly compliments the warmth from sukuna’s body.

what a perfect way to spend your day.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #jjk fluff #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk imagines

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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

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DC xDP idea: Misplace Baby

Danny makes a mistake.

He was messing around in Clockwork's lair-specifically the one with all the various clocks- when he accidentally broke a glowing gold hourglass on himself. It was the size of a house, so as the sand practically drowned him, he didn't notice his body shrinking until he dug out of the shimmering sand.

Danny stumbles on chubby little legs, panicking when he notices his clothes are suddenly too big and his hands are tinny. He fumbles to one of the old grandfather clocks to check his reflection in the glass. A small three-year-old stares back at him.

Danny screams, pushing away from the old clock. His actions cause him to trip over the leg of his pants, and he falls. Just as he tries to catch himself, the clock starts to ding.

Danny briefly recognizes the old melody of a Westminster before the clock's glass case swings open, revealing a portal, and he falls through. He catches a glimpse of Clockwork with a hand on his forehead, shaking his head in the doorway as he falls.

His face is dragged against the carpet as the Westminster chime rings behind him in the otherwise silent room. Groaning at the burn on his nose and cheeks, Danny sits up.

He turns around, watching in horror as the portal closes.

"No! No, no, no!" He opens and closes the glass door, but all he sees is the slightly swinging pendulum. Repeats his actions again and again. "Clockwork! Help! Clockwork!"

His mentor does not answer, and Danny can't feel him in the air. Can't sense his new father figure's gentle control over the flow of time. If he's learned anything in the last year he's been working as his appearance, this means Clockwork isn't in charge of this timeline.

He's in a universe so far from his original that not even the god of Time is the same. Moby Dick, he's gone and goofed now.

"Who's there?" A voice demands, and Danny whips around to see a startled man in a suit. A fine black two-piece suit that looks more expensive than Danny's house and car. Oh no, a rich man.

The man's blue eyes soften when he sees Danny. "Hey there, chum. What are you doing in my study?"

Danny blinks up at him as the man walks closer. At the closeness, the halfa's body betrays him. He starts to sob. Strong, painful sobs that wreck his whole body, and he can't breathe from how much he's crying.

The man's arms are around him in seconds. "Oh, Chum, it's okay. You're okay."

He lifts him up, pressing his wet face against his neck as he pats Danny's little back. It is humiliating, but Danny can't help but cling to the strong shoulders and curl against the warm chest as he cries. His tears and snot are all over the man's suit, but he doesn't seem to care as he comforts Danny.

Eventually, he cries to sleep, tear-stained face still pressed against the stranger's neck and his little head leaning against a strong shoulder. The rich man carefully tilts his head to ensure the toddler is fast asleep.

Once confirmed, he takes the small boy to the guest rooms. He needs answers- who is the boy? Where did he come from? Is he the son of one of the Gala attendees? What had the boy been doing at the clock guarding the Batcave?- but he will find those later. Right now, he needs to tuck this small child into bed.

"Master Bruce, your guests are waiting for you to give the speech," Alfred says, catching him at the stairway. The butler's eyes zone in on the small child in Bruce's arms before nodding. "I shall inform Marster Dick to speak for you. Who may this young lad be?"

"I'm not sure. I just found him crying in the main study." Bruce tilts his head to the upper floors. "I'm going to tuck him in."

"I'm afraid I only prepared the room next to Master Damian in preparation for Master Jon's visit. Thankfully the lads would not be opposed to sharing a room for the night if I request it of them."

"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be down as soon as I-"

"Who's child is that!?" Jason demands, stomping his way up the stairs. He's missing his suit jacket, and there is a nasty red stain on the front of his white shirt. Likely he's come for a change after "accidentally" dumping it on himself to get away from the Gala.

The toddler's nose wrinkles, indicating his sleep may be interrupted. Quickly, Bruce pats his back, humming a lullaby before the child can wake. The boy settles after a small sigh. He gives Jason a warning glare that the young man has the decency to look remorseful.

"Jason," Bruce starts, voice hushed. "I found him in the main study. He looks distressed, but a few minutes ago, I got an alert that someone had gotten into the manor. When I followed the motion detectors, it led me to this little guy."

"A baby broke into the manner? That's hardcore." Jason replied, peering at the sleeping child only to gasp. "It's another mini-you!"

"No," Bruce tells him, but secretly he thinks the same when he first finds the little boy in the main study. He had already taken a lock of the boy's hair. Just, you know, in case.

"Nice try, old man." Jason pulls out his phone, his thumb flying over his screen. A soft ding comes from the pockets of Bruce and Alfred. He doesn't have to look to know his son has just told all his siblings about the child.

A series of dings follow shortly after.

Bruce sighs, choosing not to answer, nodding to Jason and Aldfed as he quickly goes up the stairs. At least Alfred delays Jason from following by scolding him over the red stain.

Once the boy is safely placed into the bed, he carefully changes him into a pair of Damian's smallest pjs. They are still far too big for the boy but better than the jeans and white shirt he wore. He's happy to find that besides the red on his face- it looks like carpet burn- and a small bruise on his knee, the boy is unharmed. He places a stuffed octopus in the toddler's arms- smiling as the little one automatically clings it to it - before rushing down to the Batcave.

There he runs the DNA tests just as he reviews the camera footage. There he catches the toddler walking out of the woods, pushing himself through a small gap in the metal fence and wandering around the manor until he finds an open window and crawls in.

The window was opened by one of his Gala guests taking a smoke break. Bruce felt a small annoyance that they didn't follow his "no-smoking" rule even when he had explained on multiple occasions it was due to Tim not having a spleen and being worried about his health. He'll have to blacklist that man.

The child had not gracefully fallen into the manor, and Bruce winced as the boy slammed against the carpet floor as tripped. It explains the marks on his face. The boy had then cried for a few minutes- his cries must have been drowned out by the music of the Gala- but then he must have realized that no one was coming for him, so the baby had gotten up and wandered through the house crying.

He had found himself in the main study, where a few minutes later, Bruce had seen him.

Rewinding the camera, Bruce's eyes narrowed at seeing a piece of paper pinned to the boy's clothes. It looked like it fell off when he crawled through the window. Checking on the DNA test, Bruce left the cave to look for the paper.

He found in the hands of Cass, whose eyes were going over the words with fascination. She looks up at him, unsurprised by his approach- no one could sneak up on Cass- and smiles widely. "Baby brother?"

"What?"

She hands him a letter. It's short and to the point; it claims to be an old fling that gave birth three years ago, but she doesn't want anything to do with the child. She's sending the boy to the manor and is out of the country by the time he arrives.

She leaves no name.

Bruce can't remember anyone with whom he had a fling three years ago, so he knows it's a lie. Still, he would rather not find her if the child was abandoned like this. He's not sure he wouldn't break all her bones.

"I don't think he's mine," Bruce tells Cass. She tilts her head with a frown, staring at him with a soft glare until he sighs. "But I won't mind keeping him."

She beams.

The two make their way to the Batcave and find Dick already there. He's staring at the screen displaying the DNA results with a stupefied expression.

"Chum?" Bruce asks, but Dick doesn't respond. He only gapes at the screen. Cass skips next to him before she, too, freezes, and Bruce is slightly worried about what he will find.

There is a match between the boy and someone in the manner alright. But it's not with Bruce.

It's a match with Dick.

"Holy rapid-ranging ravens, I'm a father." Dick gasps.

Clockwork runs his fingers through his idiotic son's hair three floors above them. Kronos stands guard at the door, arms cross as he watches the visiting time god carefully whip the dimension travelers' memories.

Kronos is in charge of this universe timeline, but when he was approached by Clockwork asking for a favor, well, it was not hard to shift some events and make Danny a legit background.

He was now the son of Dick Grayson and Stacy Quinell. One was a boy who had been born in a circus but was forced to leave it after the death of his parents. When life got too rough, the boy would join the circus for short trips under the name Dan Danger.

The other was a girl whose parents were so determined to control every aspect of her life and were going to force her to marry a man twice her age she left home at sixteen.

She joined a traveling circus-Haley Circus- where she had a fling with Dan Danger. The night Dan was meant to go, she had seen him without his mask and learned it to be Dick Grayson.

Upon discovering her pregnancy, Stacy feared being kicked out of the circus, so she took a short break, gave birth to the boy, and kept him until he was three, thus demeaning him old enough to be without his mother.

She took him as close as she could to Wayne Manor and left. She intended to return to Haly's Circus, unaware of the fate that waited for her. Unaware of the Cout that needed new talons.

"Are you sure about this?" Kronos asks, "I'm all for discipline, but having the boy forget everything about himself for going into the timeline room?"

"It's not a punishment," Clockwork says. "It's a gift. Danny had lost so much when his parents learned the truth. His sister died trying to get him out of the house. His best friends were crippled when trying to hide him. His town was blown to pieces when his parents decided that no one in Amity Park could have a family if they could not have their children. Danny had spent years wishing to forget but mostly wishing to be a normal child. I will forever be grateful if a lifetime here grants him that."

Kronos frowns. "You have no power here. You do not know what awaits him."

"True, I know not of the trials and tribulations Danny will face, but I know you do. And you would not let anything happen to him, won't you." Clockwork looks at Kronos through his lashes and the other god of time swallows.

"Of course, my love. I will protect him. But unlike you, I can not get involved with mortals as easily. I will not be able to shield him."

"His new family will," Clockwork says, pressing his face against Danny's hair one last time to breathe him in. It will be a lifetime before he can hold his son. "The bats have faced worst odds."

Kronos tilts his head in agreement. "They have rewritten fate on numerous occasions. Even the Flashes have only been able to overturn fate but never truly go against it."

"The Court of Owls?"

"Danny will deal with them in time. His new mother is on her way to becoming a Telon. He will erase them from the timeline once he learns what they have done to her." Krono answers, eyes glowing as events of the future play before him. He watches a glowing figure battle against the king of the dead, his white hair shining brightly. "He seems to take the throne from the king of dead even here. Remarkable."

"My son is the most remarkable being around," Clockwork says proudly. He flouts from the bed, leaving behind a child with only memories of three years and a few false imprinted glimpses of the circus trailer his mother hid him in. He presses a kiss against Krono's lips. "I find myself wishing for another child. Will you assist me with that love?"

Kronos snaps them out of existence just as Danny opens his eyes and feels a small loss. It's quickly forgotten as his new father runs into the room to gasp. "Hey there, buddy, do you know who I am?"

Danny Grayson is introduced to his uncles and aunts later that night. He also meets John Jones and his niece Megan Morse who ask him a few questions about his past. Danny gets a funny feeling around them, as if someone was running their fingers through his hair but inside his head.

Thankfully they find everything to be alright.

And a new generation is born.

#dc x dp crossover #dcxdpdabbles #Misplaced Baby #Danny is Dick's son #bad parents jack and maddie #Haly's circus was a front for the Court of Owls #Kronos and CLockwork are longtime lovers #accidental baby acquisition

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the--rebel--fae · 3 months

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ME ME FIRST IM FIRST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ALASTOR X FEM READER WHO LIKE A HOUSEWIFE IN THE HOTEL AND TAKES CARE OF NIFTTY AND CHARLE AS IF THEY WERE HER AND ALASTOR CHILDREN

A/N: You my friend, caught my attention first because of such an adorable response. So ask and ye shall receive! Here's hoping I do Alastor justice.

(This is an adorable request btw)

Pairing: Alastor x Fem! Reader

Tw: None! Just pure fluff!

Word count: 745

The Hazbin Bunch

Ever since you came to the Habin Hotel, it felt like everyone was a little family. You were an older demon, having died back in the forties. So you have been in hell for quite some time.

When you first saw the TV commercial you wanted to see what it was all about. Especially since you heard that your old friend Alastor was involved. You haven’t seen him in years. Seven to be exact. And to know that he was back sent butterflies in your stomach. You never told him, but you always harbored feelings for the eccentric radio host. You never had the guts to tell him though since you feared messing up your friendship.

Little did you know, he had feelings for you as well. Alastor was already intrigued with you when you first met. Just the way you carried yourself and treated others. It was also a plus that you hated that infernal TV just as he did. Plus, you were a great conversationalist and probably the only one who could keep up with him when you had the time to dance.

Soon enough, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, Nifty, and even Sir Pentious became family to you. Almost as if they were your children.

“Nifty my dear, if you truly want to kill those little bugs I suggest you swing your knife in a diagonal direction instead of a perpendicular. That way, they have less of a chance to escape.” You told the little red-headed cyclops girl as she chased around a few stray roaches.

Nifty paused briefly and looked up at you from your seat at the bar. “Ooh! That’s a great idea! Less chance for them to escape hehe.” She giggled creepily and then started back on her roach hunt.

You shook your head and smiled fondly at the girl. Then turning back to Husk you regarded him with a warm smile. “Well, since I’m here I mine as well indulge in a small drink. What do you have in mind for me today Husk? I do so love the different drinks you concoct. If you worked at a bar back in my days on Earth, you’d be regarded as an artist.”

Husk chuckled as he started up your drink. “Weren’t you alive durin’ prohibition times though?”

You just waved your hand nonchalantly. “Ah, semantics. Besides, you know what they say. Nothing fun ever comes from following the rules.”

“How right you are Cher! Why if people followed the rules, things would be so terribly boring.” Alastor said as he popped out from seemingly nowhere.

Husk handed you your drink and you smiled as you took a sip. “Oh, hello Al. How was the radio show today?”

Alastor’s eyes lit up and his smile shone brightly. Most people would find it off-putting but you personally loved it. “It went splendidly, my dear! Thank you for asking.”

You were about to say something more, but then Charlie came down the main stairs drawing your attention. “Charlie, my dear! How are you, sweetie? Do you feel any better since the latest meeting with that infernal angel? Ad-what’s his name? The first man, I guess?”

Charlie met your gaze and smiled. “I’m doing a little bit better (y/n), thanks. But you don’t have to worry so much. That meeting was a month ago!’

You just chuckle. “That may be so, but I can tell how stressed you’ve been hun.”

Angel Dust clicks his tongue as he takes a seat beside you. “You know toots, sometimes it seems like you're the mom of this place with how ya act.” He then glanced at Alastor who unbeknownst to you was gazing fondly at you. “An if you're the mother of this joint, that’d make ol smiles here the dad.”

“Haha! You know, that doesn’t sound too bad Ma Cherie. I’d consider myself lucky to be assumed to be your husband.” Alastor said as he put a hand on your shoulder.

Instead of commenting, you could only blush furiously. Feeling the heat crawl all the way up to your ears, you tried your best to compose yourself and hide your growing smile behind your glass. Almost hoping that Alastor didn’t catch how much his comment made your long-dead heart soar. But he was no fool, he could see that beautiful smile of yours even as you tried to hide it behind the crystalline glass.

Perhaps you truly were like a little family after all.

Hope you enjoyed the story my friend! I gotta say, this was an adorable request. I had a lot of fun with it!

And if you guys want even more stories--like maybe your own personalized several page long one shots or even a multi-chap fic take a look at my Etsy Shop! I do commissions! I even have listings for Hazbin Hotel!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #requests #reqs open #alastor #hazbin hotel season 1 #the rebel fae #one shots

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incorrectbatfam · 9 months

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Wayne Tower yelp reviews pls (wrong answers ofc)

★★★☆☆ Disappointed but not surprised

Was invited to the Wayne Gala held at the Tower this year to accommodate special guests from the Justice League. Was photographed by reporter Clark Kent. Wanted to meet Superman but he didn't show up. Food and atmosphere was good. Got told off for swinging from the chandelier. Why have a chandelier if not for swinging?

★☆☆☆☆ Not even gonna dignify it with a title

I'd give zero stars if I could. The CEO is a massive fucking asshole. He's full of nothing but smooth-brained takes. He claims he'll be there when you need him but never shows up. And when you RIGHTFULLY resent him, he'll turn around and pretend YOU are the bad guy. That isn't even touching on his AUDACITY to replace you so soon after you leave. You think you know this man, you think you've grown to trust him, and then he goes and stabs you in the back. Believe me when I say RUN. Get as FAR away from this company and that bastard Bruce Wayne as you possibly can.

★★☆☆☆ SOS

I work here. Too many emails. Half the execs are Boomers who can't export a PDF. The break room is out of coffee. My dad won't stop visiting the office. When will the nightmare end???

★★★★☆ Imperfect but respectable

I had the opportunity to visit Wayne Tower on Bring Your Child To Work Day. The building is up to code and I was able to view all the health code certifications. I admire that Wayne Enterprises takes care of its employees by allowing ample vacation time, in-house daycare, and well-maintained recreation spaces. The cafeteria did not have as many vegetarian options as I would have preferred, but I have been informed that they operate on a rotating menu, so I shall revisit again next week and possibly amend my review. I would leave five stars but I ran into Tim Drake on the way out and that brought the whole experience down a notch.

★☆☆☆☆ No Chipotle

Was told there was a Chipotle here. Did not find Chipotle.

★★★☆☆ Badge entry didn't work

I'm on the night shift at the company's call center. One time I was already running late but for some reason I couldn't badge in. The janitor wouldn't let me through even though I had proof I was supposed to be here. Had to escalate to the CEO. Still better than working the Batburger drive-thru though.

★★★★★ Hi Dad

Hi Dad.

★★★★☆ Good but...

I love the bathrooms. They're easy to find and very accessible for a wheelchair user like myself. There's plenty of space for me to navigate and the products are top-notch, especially the hot towels. The toaster oven under the sink also doesn't make sense, but then again, my lockscreen is Nightwing so I can't judge.

★★☆☆☆ No cats allowed

I got written permission from the CEO himself to bring my cat to the office, but the doorman turned me away. Next time, there should be better communication between the employees.

★★★★☆ Rooftop makes for good date

I brought my girlfriend up here for our anniversary date. The building has a beautiful view of the city and the restaurant was great. The bread was a little dry, but nothing that a little butter couldn't fix. Unfortunately, she's an on-call detective and we had to cut our evening short, but that's not the staff's fault.

★☆☆☆☆ Got called Bri'ish

Someone called me Bri'ish.

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rin-fukuroi · 3 months

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Hi! How are you!

May I request semi-exhibitionism with Dan Heng and his s/o as she strokes his horns, chest, and back while giving him a handjob?

Hi! Thanks for the request!

I hope you're in a good mood and haven't died from waiting, my friend ♡(>ᴗ•)

𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 [𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Dan Heng x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, established relationships, semi-exhibitionism, handjob, dragon shape, excessive stimulation.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

art: @enirate

Ever since Dan Heng returned from the meeting, which he never said a word about, he looked rather depressed. Although, perhaps, it seemed to you that his eternally indifferent expression on his face began to look different only because your lover had changed in general. It was awkward to stare and ask to touch his unusual body parts, which were revealed to your eyes only now, when he guiltily explained and apologized to you for not telling you about his past right away, but since that day your head hasn't left the thought of what this iridescent mother-of-pearl scales feel like, adorning the tail, and how will Dan Heng feel if you touch his jade horns?

However, now is probably not the time for that either, but on the other hand, when will you ever see him in this form again? Dan Heng promised that he would return to his former form soon and who knows when you'll have another opportunity to explore these amazing features of your lover's body.

And, of course, it's very inappropriate to do this now, when both of you are trying to distract yourself from the intense events that took place at the Loufu by whiling away time at the festival in Aurumaton Allay, but patience has never been your strong suit.

— Dan Heng, — you stop when you both walk past a deserted alley, grabbing your lover by the wrist. — Shall we stop here for a while?

— Hm-m? — the man turns around, giving you an incredulous look, but still humbly follows you when you pull him around the corner of one of the buildings. — What happened, Y/N?

You look around, checking to see if anyone is nearby, before letting go of Dan Heng's hand, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

— May I… Touch your tail?

The man's emerald eyes widen as you lower yourself back down, looking at him with the most innocent look you're capable of.

—Wh-what? Right now?

— You said yourself that you'll return to your old form soon! Besides, what's the big deal? It's just a tail.

— Then why did you bring me here? — Dan Heng crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

— I thought it might embarrass you!

It's hard to argue with your absurd logic, and he doesn't even want to do it. Vidyadhara exhales heavily, dropping his arms in resignation before turning his back on you.

— Just do it quickly.

— So it's embarrassing for you after all! — you giggle maliciously, stretching out your hands to the long tail gently swinging on the asphalt.

The first touch was especially exciting. The scales, which previously seemed sharp, turned out to be quite pleasant and smooth to the touch when you slowly ran your fingertips over the surface of the tail. More confidently, you wrapped both hands around the tail, feeling it flinch slightly from a more tangible touch. It's amazing that Dan Heng's body has always been so warm, but his tail is quite cool. You gently stroke the slippery scales and slide your fingers along the ridge line, curiously watching the tail wriggle slightly in your hands.

Dan Heng confusedly blunts his gaze at the wall opposite, curling his fingers into fists.

— I think that's enough, — the man says sharply, indifferently turning back to face you and pulling his tail out of your grip.

— Hey! I haven't finished yet, — you puff out your cheeks, already about to scold your lover, but instead you look up, causing Dan Heng even more concern with your returned curious look. — Then can I touch them?

You point your finger at vidyadhara's horns, and Dan Heng suddenly backs away.

— Next time, it's time for us to go back, — the man is about to slip away from you, but you stop him by grabbing his forearm and forcing him to press against the wall of the building behind.

—Please, just once, — you plead, pressing your chest against Dan Heng's body and stretching your hand up.

— D-don't, Y/N… — your lover's words are cut off, replaced by a quiet languid sigh as soon as your curious fingers touch one of his horns, and you freeze, lowering your gaze back to Dan Heng's face.

The man's cheeks are powdered with blush, and his emerald eyes shyly avoid eye contact. He's really embarrassed! On the one hand, you wouldn't want to put your lover in an awkward position in a place like this, which anyone present at the festival can pass by at any moment, but on the other… Dan Heng looks so cute when you slowly slide down his horn, ripping another sigh from the man's parted lips.

Although he asked you to stop, it doesn't seem like your lover really wanted to. Each gentle touch of your fingers responds with an intoxicating tremor in the man's body, dissolving any objections that have settled on his tongue, and you only press on him even more, now wrapping your palm around the horn, gently tracing the tip with your thumb.

— Y/N… — Dan Heng whispers, leaning slightly towards your touch, but grabbing your forearm in a feeble attempt at protest.

— I didn't even think you were so sensitive here, — you smile, unclenching your fingers and leaving only the tips on the horn before slowly dragging them down. — Is it really that pleasant for you?

Dan Heng doesn't answer, instead blunting his gaze at his feet until he closes his eyes completely when the pads of your fingers reach the top again. The man finally gives up, just leaving his hand on yours. His legs weaken from the sweet impulses of pleasure tormenting vidyadhara's body, and Dan Heng shifts the weight of his body to the wall behind, barely restraining the moans that accumulate in his throat.

Despite his cold appearance, he has never shown much dominance over you either in life or in bed, but this is the first time you see him in such a mess. Dan Heng is so docile and lost in the thrall of the pleasant sensations that your fingers give him that you involuntarily catch yourself thinking that this isn't enough. Neither you nor him.

You extend your free hand forward, pressing your palm against Dan Heng's groin. A strangled moan still escapes from the man's chest when you gently grasp his erection through the fabric.

— Oh, are you really turned on by me touching your horns? — you ask mockingly, letting go of his horn, instead moving your hand to the bare skin peeking out of the neckline on the man's chest. — It seems that now you don't want me to stop?

— N-no … — Dan Heng answers quietly, turning away from your gaze.

— Does "no" mean that I can continue or…? — you tease your lover by wrapping your palm more tightly around the outline of a hard cock hidden behind your trousers.

You laugh when you get only a restrained groan in response, and slip your fingers under the fabric on Dan Heng's chest. Of course, you understand what he really wants, but you couldn't resist embarrassing your lover even more.

— If you moan so loudly, someone will definitely hear you, — you lean into Dan Heng's ear, whispering softly as your hand, resting on his dick, moves to the waistband of his trousers, carefully making its way down until it reaches his heated erect flesh. — I don't think I'd want anyone else but me to see you like this, so try to keep your voice down, okay?

Dan Heng's cock shudders when you squeeze the base in your palm, slowly sliding your fist up and down, not missing the opportunity to run the pad of your thumb along the urethra, smearing the pre-ejaculate on the elastic head. The palm on Dan Heng's chest gently squeezes the tense flesh before your fingers close on the man's nipple, gently pinching the hardened flesh.

You don't even notice how your breathing is getting short as the movements of your hand caressing your lover's cock accelerate. The sight of his flushed face and the feeling of his hips pushing slightly towards you every time your hand goes down the base are so tempting that a pleasant heat flares up in the bottom of your stomach, and moisture sticks to your underwear, forcing your legs to close around Dan Heng's exposed knee.

— Y/N… that's enough, I'm going… — the man clenches his teeth, holding back the loud moan stuck in his throat. Dan Heng's head hits the wall, and you feel his cock swell in your hand.

— Hush, hush, I'll take care of everything, — you laugh playfully, on the contrary accelerating your movements, pulling your other hand out from under the fabric on Dan Heng's chest to grab the waistband of his trousers, hurriedly lowering them lower along the man's hips.

Dan Heng resignedly presses the back of his hand to his forehead, exhaling in a strangled way as you squat, continuing to casually slide his palm over the base of the throbbing dick before wrapping his lips around the swollen head just in time to catch every viscous drop of sperm pouring out of the urethra with his mouth.

Vidyadhara lets out a hoarse restrained moan into the air, his hips tremble until the last sticky drop settles on your tongue, and the waves of orgasm do not subside, gradually returning Dan Han to reality. He feels your lips and palm pull away, exposing his sensitive penis to the coolness of the air, and the man's heavy eyelids open slightly, allowing turquoise eyes to meet your teasing gaze as you defiantly slowly swallow his sperm, licking your lips with satisfaction.

— Y/N, you… — Dan Heng says irritably, glaring at you from the height of his height, while you carefully straighten up, returning his trousers back to the belt.

— You should have seen your face. Can I take a picture of you next time while I'm stroking your horns and put it on my phone screen saver? — you laugh melodiously, putting your hands behind your back and leaning forward.

— No way. It won't happen again, — Dan Heng mutters discontentedly, turning around and indifferently walking back to the busy streets of the alley.

You giggle to yourself before catching up with your lover, aligning your step with his.

— O-oh, that's it! And I was hoping for a continuation in your room.

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #dan heng smut #imbibitor lunae #Imbibitor Lunae x reader #Imbibitor Lunae x you #Imbibitor Lunae smut

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rhaenyslay · 29 days

Text

A New Prince

Part One: 'A Rose Between Thorns'

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Aemond Targaryen x OC!Niece!Reader

Summary: Rhaenyra gives birth to her fourth child, a son - much to Aelora's annoyance.

Warnings: Descriptions of childbirth (non-graphic), swearing.

Word Count: 2.7 K

A/N: There's no direct Aemond/Aelora interaction in this one, but don't worry, the next one will be full of it - I'll make up for it I #promise.

༻❁༺ 117 AC, AELORA’S CHAMBERS

The morning birds chirp happily as the sun rises warmly over the Keep’s turrets and gardens, hills and courtyards, and a robin perches itself happily on the young princess’s open windowsill. She smiles at the small creature fondly, gently making her way over to the window as she arises from the edge of her bed, stepping down from the dais it sits on, giggling to herself for a moment at the tickly feeling of the cold and slightly rough stone floors of her chambers against her bare feet. She sits herself on the stool just beside the windowsill.

“Hello, little bird.” She whispers with another airy giggle, causing the robin to cock its head to the side and ‘teek’, hopping closer to her hand that has since outstretched very tentatively.

There are a few seeds that remain on the windowsill from where she had fed some of the morning birds only a few days before - she nudges them towards the robin, who eagerly takes them with another ‘teek’. The robin hops forward once more, closer still to her outstretched hand, but is interrupted when the door to her chambers all but swing open.

“Mother and Father want us in the gardens for breakfast.”

The little robin quickly disembarks with a final ‘teek’, leaving Aelora to sigh softly, “Jace, what is it about knocking you find so impossible?”

Her younger brother shrugs, “What is it about not being annoying you find so impossible?” The young boy retorts with a teasing shake of his head, resulting in an eyeroll from the princess.

She stands from the stool, straightening out her chemise, “I suppose they’ll want us dressed and ready?”

Jacaerys nods, “Yes.” He seems to hesitate a moment, a coy smile on his face as he lingers in the doorway.

Suspicious, Aelora narrows her eyes slightly, “What?”

“Can I play with Moonfyre today?” Jacaerys asks.

Aelora pouts, lifting her chin up and looking away slightly, “No, you wouldn’t let me see Vermax last sennight.”

Jacaerys frowns, “Because you were mean to me!”

“Well, you can’t see Moonfyre today.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so!”

“Children, children…” Septa Marcia says as she strolls into Aelora’s chambers, a couple of handmaidens following behind her. The Septa - assigned to Aelora at the recommendation of Queen Alicent due to her reverence within the Faith and notable students past - was a warm woman in her early-mid 50s, her face round and youthful despite her age, with sage green eyes and what was once fiery red hair now greying and partially concealed by her hood. The daughter of a Tully and a Dornish man, Septa Marcia holds a warmth to both her appearance and her demeanour that Aelora has found most comforting on many occasions of emotional distress yet also inviting enough to weave giggles and smiles among it all, “Bickering still? You have another brother on the way soon, what example are you setting, hm?”

“Or a sister.” Aelora adds as one of the handmaidens begins to unlace her chemise, the other unplating her hair.

“Or a sister.” Septa Marcia nods and adds with a playful eye roll to Jacaerys, who giggles. She gently taps the prince’s shoulder, “Run along, my prince,” she says to him softly, “your sister shall join you shortly.”

Jacaerys nods and promptly leaves.

“Septa Marcia?”

“Yes, princess?”

“What’s your favourite colour?” Asks the seven-year-old girl, stepping out of her chemise.

The Septa laughs softly, “My favourite colour?”

Aelora nods.

“Well,” she thinks, “Blue, I would say,” the Septa muses, “a nice sapphire blue. Why do you ask?”

“Mother is having some more dresses sewn for me but I can’t decide on any colours.” Aelora sighs, this predicament being the main concern of her sweet little world, “There’s too many!”

Septa Marcia laughs once more, sitting on the stool Aelora had risen from just prior to her entry, “Oh, what an annoyance indeed.”

The handmaidens slip on a new chemise and follow it with a comfortable but equally beautiful purple gown - the sleeves puffed ever so slightly and the skirts loose, both of which provide a reprieve from the warmth of the summer sun. The laces are tied as the little princess continues to speak, “I like to have lots of different colours.” She says, looking at the fabrics of her dress, at the golden embellishments, “It makes me feel like a rainbow!”

“And a very pretty rainbow at that.” One of the handmaidens, Jana, comments with a smile.

Aelora smiles at the praise and compliment while they finish dressing her, now moving onto her hair, “Can I only have a little bit braided?” She asks, looking over her shoulder at the other handmaiden, Malia, as she feels her hair being brushed, “Like Princess Helaena, I would like to match with her.” Malia nods and continues to brush the princess’s hair.

“Helaena and I are getting matching dresses.” Aelora happily tells Septa Marcia, her legs swinging back and forth from where she sits at the vanity, “Hers is going to be pink and mine is going to be blue, but they will look the same.”

“You will both look very pretty, I’m sure.” The Septa says with a smile, beginning to arrange the embroidery for when Aelora returns from breaking her fast.

“I hope so, the Queen said that we c-”

For the second time that morning, Aelora’s chambers are interrupted by a brief knock, only for it to open all the same, revealing Ser Criston Cole, “The Princess Rhaenyra has entered her labours.” He announces, slightly out of breath, clearly having rushed, “I have been asked to escort the princess to be with her brothers.”

Aelora’s head whips towards Ser Criston, “She has? The baby is coming? Little sister, little sister!” She beams excitedly, doing a little happy dance before Septa Marcia tuts and promptly places a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

The handmaidens and Ser Criston, however, smile. “Come, little one.” Ser Criston says to the young princess, “We can get something to eat on the way - some lemon cakes, perhaps?”

She instantly lights up and nods her head, making her way over to him, “Can we get one for mother too?”

“I’m sure she would appreciate that, princess.”

༻❁༺ 117 AC, ALICENT’S CHAMBERS

Rhaenyra, weakened and burning with a tired fury, holds the newborn babe close to her chest as Laenor holds her arm, aiding her bloodied and weary steps towards the Queen’s apartments. She can still feel the oppressive heat at her core and head as she recoils at the way her silver tresses cling to the exposed and hot skin of her neck and forehead, the burn in her legs, the roughness of her dress against her skin - yet she perseveres, repressing a growl with the tensing of her jaw as she sees Alicent - stood upon her dais as a handmaiden checks her gown, chin up and poised - turn to look at her as if she wasn’t the reason for her being here.

“Rhaenyra,” Alicent begins, voice conveying a tone of shock and concern, yet her eyes convey differently, “you should be resting after your labours.”

“I have no doubt that you would prefer that, your Grace.” Rhaenyra responds, forcing a tense smile as she subtly masks the shaking in her arms as rocking the babe in her arms.

“You must sit.” Alicent graciously suggests, “Talia, fetch a cushion for the princess.”

“There’s no need.”

“Nonsense.”

Talia, a handmaiden, promptly grabs a pillow and places it down on the nearby seat. Alicent takes the opportunity to run her eyes over Rhaenyra and the babe, her brown eyes flittering over the babe as if in search of something, hands fidgeting a little nervously. The tension continues to thicken as Laenor helps Rhaenyra sit, only broken when the King enters with a wide smile.

“What happy news this morning.” He sighs and beams at his daughter happily.

“Indeed, your Grace.” Laenor replies, returning the smile.

“Where is he? Where is my grandson?”

Laenor gently takes the baby boy from Rhaenyra’s arms and hands him over to Viserys. Alicent smiles at her husband, but her eyes continue to search.

The King cradles the small babe proudly, ‘What a fine prince - sturdy, you will make a fierce knight… yes you will…”

The babe makes a few little noises, seemingly content in his Grandsire’s arms.

Alicent redirects her gaze back to Rhaenyra and Laenor, “Does the babe have a name yet?”

“Well, we haven’t sp-”

“Joffrey.”

Rhaenyra meets Laenor’s eyes with furrowed brows, looking up at him from where she sits. A pause follows.

“He will be called Joffrey.” Laenor reasserts.

Alicent’s eyes narrow momentarily, almost fleetingly, “That’s an unusual name for a Valyrian.” She shifts her eyes to Rhaenyra.

The princess, still aching from her labours and now enduring the tension within the Queen’s chambers, manages a smile, casting her eyes down.

“I do believe he has his father’s nose.” Viserys, oblivious to the tension - as always - says, turning to look at Leanor, who promptly smiles and laughs softly, over his shoulder.

Alicent looks once more to Rhaenyra as Viserys turns away once more, a knowing look in her eyes. The princess diverts her gaze, as does Laenor. He clears his throat.

“If you don’t mind, your Grace, your daughter has exerted herself heroically and should rest.”

Viserys nods with a warm smile, “Of course.”

He hands Joffrey to Alicent - Rhaenyra watches with a tensed jaw and tightness in her chest as Alicent’s svelte hand brushes back the blanket that swaddles the babe, hearing Laenor’s muttering of “the hair…” as she does so. Alicent coos to the babe with a smile as she cradles him, rocking him in her arms and pacing the chambers. Rhaenyra’s eyes fix upon them, hardly noticing her father take her hand in his own.

“Well done, my girl.” He whispers fondly, “I do hope the labour was easy. Easier than it had been with Aelora, at least.”

She looks at him a moment before her head turns to Alicent and Joffrey once more, “I think I called the midwife a cunt…”

“Oh.”

They share a smile before embracing each other with a kiss to their cheeks - a genuine warmth spreading through her at the feeling of her father’s arms around her, momentarily easing the pain of her labours and the tensions ensnaring her.

A few paces away, Alicent has since handed Joffrey back to Laenor, “Do keep trying, Ser Laenor, sooner or later you may get one that looks like you.”

Laenor feels the burn in his chest, the tingle in his fingers as he turns to the side to suppress his anger, instead cradling Joffrey closer to him.

༻❁༺ 117 AC, RHAENYRA’S CHAMBERS

“...a big, scary dragon!”

“No! Not a dragon, I don’t want it to be a dragon.”

“Aelora, it has to be a dragon-”

“But they aren’t all scary - Moonfyre is nice.” “Moonfyre tried to eat Aegon the other day!”

“Well, then he shouldn’t have tried to touch her while she was eating!”

The siblings’ dispute is quickly silenced by the sight of their mother and father entering the room.

“Mother!” Jacaerys promptly jumps up from his seat on the stone floor, “Look!” He rushes over to the ornate, black pot among the cluttered table beside the princess, lifting the lid to reveal black dragon egg sat among hot orange embers.

“We chose an egg for the baby.” Lucerys announces proudly.

“You chose an egg for the baby.” Aelora mumbles with a pout, only just now standing from being sat on the floor, “You both went without telling me.”

Laenor gives her a sympathetic smile while Ser Harwin helps Rhaenyra sit down as she smiles at her sons, “That looks like the perfect one.”

“Not everyday an egg leaves the dragonpit, princess, I thought it best to escort the lads.” Ser Harwin says, his deep, warm voice the perfect antidote for the tensions that were slowly leaving the princess’s body.

“Without me…” Aelora mumbles once more, making her way over to Laenor, silently hugging his waist and looking at the baby in his arms. Laenor kisses the top of her head gently and bends down a little to show her Joffrey better.

“Laenor and I thank you, Commander.” Rhaenyra sighs breathily as she smiles up at Ser Harwin.

“Another boy, I heard.” He adds, to which Rhaenyra smiles once more.

“Unfortunately.” Aelora sighs, her cheek against Laenor’s blue doublet.

Ser Harwin smirks at her, “You wished for a sister?”

Aelora nods, “I’m sick of boys… they’re stupid.”

“But you’re always with Aemond, and he’s a boy.” Jacaerys says teasingly, putting the lid back on the pot, “And you always go to the dragonpit with Aegon.”

“Aemond is a nice boy.” Aelora retorts, “He doesn’t steal my plums.”

“I did that once!”

“And Aegon teaches me cool tricks to do with Moonfyre.” She continues, “And he steals - I mean - gets us cakes.”

Rhaenyra, too tired to delve deeper into that, laughs loosely, as do Harwin and Laenor, “Well, a boy it is - little we can do about that.”

Aelora sighs dramatically before looking at the baby once more, smiling softly, “But he is very cute.”

“Indeed,” Laenor agrees with her and looks down at Joffrey, “What a fine knight you’re going to make, eh?”

Harwin’s eyes linger on Joffrey longingly, “Might I?”

Rhaenyra looks up at him and seems to relax further in her seat, “Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey.”

Aelora’s nose scrunches up, “Joffrey? That’s not a very Valyrian name.”

Laenor sends her a look before nodding to his wife, “Of course.” He hands the baby to Harwin - he doesn’t miss the small glare Rhaenyra directs towards Aelora momentarily, clearly triggered deeper than the surface level of the words alone.

“Joffrey, is it?” Harwin hums, taking Joffrey into his arms - Laenor nodding in confirmation.

“Father, may I please hold Joffrey?” Lucerys asks Laenor, Jacaerys’s hand on his shoulder and his own hand reaching up to the baby, Jacaerys’s following.

Aelora nuzzles closer into her father’s waist, “Can I? I really want to - and mother said I could hold him first yesterday…”

“No, no, no…” Laenor, with a small smile, removes Aelora from his waist and gently pushes the boys’ arms away from Ser Harwin and the baby. “The dragonpit for you two, before they send out a search party.” He says to Luce and Jace, guiding them to the door, “And… somewhere with you.” He says to Aelora with a playful face.

She giggles and allows him to push her towards the door, “But, father, I don’t want to go to my embroidery lesson… Helaena isn’t joining us today and the other girls are so boring!”

“I’m sure you will find something to do, sweetling.” Laenor kisses her head before turning to close the large double doors with a parting, respectful nod to Ser Harwin.

A moment of content and comfortable silence warms the chambers as Rhaenyra relaxes for the first time that morning, watching as Ser Harwin rocks Joffrey with an awe-filled gaze.

“Asleep in front of the Commander of the City Watch… terrible lack of respect.”

Rhaenyra laughs softly, “A certain insolence runs in the family, I’m afraid.”

‘Oh, I can tell…” He laughs too, gentle so as to not wake the baby, “Particularly with that little firecracker.”

“Aelora? Oh, yes…” Rhaenyra’s smile falters momentarily, “Yes… all the beauty to attract a suitor when she comes of age, I’m sure, but none of the patience to keep one.”

Harwin scoffs in amusement, “Indeed, although the courtiers adore her; she’s been raised well - her comeliness can’t be denied.”

“Hm.” Rhaenyra hums in response, hands on her stomach as she feels the pain ease.

“A true princess, just like her mother.”

Rhaenyra smiles at the Commander, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest at his words. ༻❁

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #x reader #fanfiction #aemond x you #hotd fanfic

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fantasyandshit · 9 days

Text

Replaced part two

Omg I’m so upset- it won’t let me tag like anyone with dashes in their name at allll soooo if you commented on that post I am so so so sorry I couldn’t tag you guys

Type: one shot turned more

Part: 2/2

Part 1 here

Masterlist here

Pairing: Azriel x reader/ mystery character x reader

Seriously guys thank you so much- I’m so glad that the first part had so much love and I hope this one is just as good.

“So, what did you need my love?” I lean down to kiss my fiancés temple. He’s stressed, I can tell. His fingers tap away in rhythm with his foot. “Baby- what’s going on? Why are you so stressed?” My hands run down the length of his arms in a soothing motion. “How can I help you?”

The new high lord of autumn’s head meets my shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips. His head raises till his lips meet mine in a soft kiss. “Baby I need you to sit down.” His smile disappears as soon as it came and I frown, moving to the seat on the other side of his desk. I raise my brows expectantly as his hands move to reach mine. “Love- we have a high lords meeting in two weeks time. They have requested it be held here in order to see how I’m handling the court now.”

“Ok? And?”

“Darling I want to introduce you as the new high lady of Autumn. I want you come along.” He sighs, “it means you will have to see all of them again.”

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I breath for a moment, thinking about it, it’s been nearly five years since I left, the last time I saw any of them was the battle with Hybern, and even then Eris kept me mostly away from them so that I wasn’t distracted. “I’ll go.”

“Are you sure darling?”

“Very. I want them to see me as the high lady of autumn. Not the girl that left all that time ago.”

He smirks his signature smirk, pride filling his eyes. “Very well. Shall we begin planning?”

———

Everyone has finally arrived- or what is usually everyone, confusion sets in as Eris seems to sit in waiting, an empty chair beside him at the head of the table. “Are we waiting for someone Eris?”

“Yes actually. Shell be here any moment, she likes making an entrance.” Something bothers Azriel with the way the high lord smirks. He didn’t know who was going to walk through that door but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.

The door swings open, a woman stepping through, decked in a gorgeous burnt orange dress, green and gold accents around her body, a golden crown, one looking like leaves woven together rests on her head. As her eyes catch Eris’ she smiles. “Sorry I’m late. Hope you haven’t started without me.” She surveys the room before stepping towards the empty seat. Eris stands, going to pull it out with one hand and take hers on his other. The pause for a moment, facing the table together.

“Everyone. I’d like you to meet my fiance and the high lady of the Autumn court. Some of you may already know her.”

As the female turns to kiss Eris, it clicks for Azriel. “Yn.” He can’t help but gasps and that is when it finally hits the inner circle of the night court.

“Hello guys. Long time no see.”

Cassian speaks this time, his brows furrowed and mouth agape, “you- your with him? Your the high the high lady?”

“Yes, in fact our wedding is next month. I am terribly excited. Especially after being named the high lady of Autumn.” She and Eris sit finally, hands staying tied together

An agony Azriel has never felt tears through him as he stares at his mate. She looks back to him as he gasps, clenching his chest wildly.

“Azriel. I’d like to get through my first meeting as high lady. So if you could stop…flailing. That would be preferred.” Yn clears her throat before turning to the others at the table. “I’ve seen some things. I see Koshei. I thought we took care of our issues with him, however I-“

The meeting continues, the night court still trying to process the news. After the meeting is finished, the high lords are given a walk through of the new Autumn court. “Yn. Yn can we speak please.” It was towards the end of the tour, courts had been led to where they’d be staying, only the inner circle trailed behind, minus Morrigan and Cassian who had been dropped off to their respective rooms.

I choose to ignore the shadowsinger, instead stopping at the next door and turn back to Rhysand and Feyre, “You two will be staying here. This castle works much like the house of wind. It will cater to you, we do tend keep things much warmer here for obvious reasons so if you are uncomfortable with the temperature just say the word and it will be brought down by the house.”

“Goodnight Yn.” I nod before turning back to lead the final male to where he’d be staying, Eris never leaving my side. We barely make it three steps down the hall before I feel Rhsyand pry at my mental walls.

‘What do you want Rhysand.’

‘You should talk to him Yn. He’s been devastated since you left and see you with Eris killed him I-‘

I shut it down. I don’t want to hear some sob story from my mate who didn’t even want me till I was gone. “You will be staying here Azriel. What I said to Rhysand and Feyre goes the same for you.”

Me and Eris turn to leave before I’m grabbed by the arm. “Wait. Yn can we please just talk.”

Eris growls. “Get your filthy hands off my fucking finance.”

The shadowsinger seems to get just as upset, opening his mouth to speak before I rip my arm from his grasp and turn, a glare resting on my features.

“Don’t you fucking dare! You have no right- no fucking right to get angry at my fiancée! Do you understand, you didn’t want me and I don’t fucking want you so go wallow in your self pity but stay the hell away from me!” Eris rubs soothing circles on my arm, a glare that could kill sent towards the shadowsinger as he grabs me, winnowing us to our room.

—————

Sooo I hope this lives up to your guys’ expectations!

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #elain x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #nesta archeron #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #rhysand x reader #rhysand #eris vanserra #eris x reader #replaced #angst #no happy ending

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lushaletta · 11 days

Text

love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, dark!tom, mild swearing, violence

summary: tom grapples between his dark desires and his unlikely affection for you. it’s deadly.

a/n: part 3 to this lil series :> pls lmk if u guys r enjoying so far!! idk how long i want this to be but we shall see where it goes

read the previous parts: one two

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Tom has decided. And once Tom decides something, nothing will get in his way.

You are to be his.

The murder would be the easiest part of all. Twice, now, he’s done it. First with that disgusting, grumbling Myrtle and second with his nasty father he can’t even be bothered to think about.

Third time is always the charm. He has it all figured out.

“Tommy!” you beam, following the daily routine. You slide over a treacle tart. “You liked these ones last time.”

He accepts the dessert wordlessly. He’s too deep in thought. You grin.

A few more moments of silence pass and you begin to be irritated by the lack of noise. You have to fill the air up somehow. “Have I told you about Murph yet?”

He’s almost sickened by the name itself. So much so that he can’t stomach the lovely tart your mother has made for him. You’re on a nickname basis now? “You have not.”

You haven’t told him anything about this boy, but he already knows everything. He won’t have to worry about this foul beast for much longer, so he’ll tolerate the giddiness in your eyes for now.

“We’ve just gone on a date. I think it went well, you know? He’s sweet. Opens the door for me, matches pace. That type of thing.”

Tom could do that too if that’s what you really wanted. “How wonderful,” he deadpans.

You’d be a fool not to notice the way his eye twitched when you said the word “date” or the poorly hidden sarcasm he laced in his speech.

“I think our next one is this Wednesday,” you continue.

He’s absolutely fucking repulsed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d march on over to that moron’s room and take care of it himself. But there’s a plan, procedure to be followed. And Tom is nothing if not methodical.

“I can’t believe it! The both of us have dates this week. What even are our lives now?” Camilla cheers, leaning back in her seat.

“I don’t think Tom is very happy about mine.”

She raises a brow. “That’s because Murphy isn’t pure. I’m telling you, Riddle’s lot is psychotic.”

“Okay, I’m not a fan of them either, but Tom knows I’m not pure. He’s been perfectly pleasant.”

“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.

You roll your eyes and urge her to continue reading her book. She complies. Camilla’s never been very argumentative.

As she settles in the pages, all entranced by the words, you lean back in your chair. It is a strange twist of fate that you’re now friends with Tom, but despite Camilla’s warnings, you can’t get yourself to leave. It’s a comfortable trap.

“Hello,” Tom says from behind you as you swing your feet on the railings.

You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”

Tom knows by now that he can’t surprise you.

The echoing chambers of Hogwarts are bathed in soft moonlight, and no one else is around. Tom is usually by himself at this time. You only steal each other’s afternoons.

“You know,” you muse, breaking the comfortable quiet that settled between you. “You’re very important to me.”

Tom clears his throat. He’s never really been important to anyone. He swallows. “Likewise.”

He’s avoiding your gaze. You think it’s cute. His lips quirk into a faint smile, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

Suddenly, you study his face, trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. He’s more withdrawn recently. Even quieter, if that’s possible. You suppose it has something to do with Murph but you never can be too sure when it comes to him.

“You’re staring,” he says.

“I like the view.” He sighs.

Tom is not a good person. Far from it. Your friend realises it but you don’t. You’re a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume him, that’s already consumed him. You’re both refuge from his despair and a constant reminder. He finds solace in your company and he hates it but now he has no choice. He can’t bring himself to kill you. He knows he never will and so it has to be this way.

It will hurt you, undoubtedly. It will make him more terrible than he already is.

Time is creeping up on him. You’re growing closer with that wretched Ravenclaw and the longer he waits, the more you will be affected.

“Murphy Atthill.”

He turns around at the call of his name and can’t help but feel uneasy. Tom’s presence tends to do that. “Riddle? What can I do for you?” he asks politely. He isn’t very good at masking his anxiety.

Tom casts the Killing Curse and he feels the unmistakable split of his soul as he recites haunting Latin incantations. He knows there’s no going back.

A chilling sense of finality looms over him and yet it weighs light on his conscience. All for the better, this is. In fact, it’s a twisted sense of satisfaction that he feels knowing that the deed is done. He knows he’s crossed a line with you from which there is no return,

But Murphy’s eyes lifeless are much prettier that way.

taglist for this series!! @mariamyousef702 @enidths @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @girlogies @unwrittenletter @helalokithor

#🎞 by.ivy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #harry potter oneshot #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x reader fluff #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle blurb #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle angst #tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #dark!tom riddle #tom riddle x reader angst

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ham-st4r · 1 year

Text

𝓛𝓪𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓻𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝔂 - 𝓛. 𝓗𝓮𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰

🧺Pairing: heeseung + female reader🧺

Warnings: male masturbation, cursing, dirty talk, cum eating.

Genre: smut, roommates, smut without plot. Not happy with the way this turned out :/

Summary: it wasn’t every day you caught your roommate pleasuring himself, and well, the sight wasn’t exactly easy to look away from, not to say he wanted you to anyway.

Number of words: 1.9k

Find your way around!

Hi, thank you so much for showing interest in my works. I’ve already surpassed 500 likes! Also, I decided to write smut instead of fluff this time. I hope it turned out okay, enjoy!

There are a million ways your day could have gone, but somehow out of all those ways, it ended with you standing outside your roommate's door with his cum stained underwear in the palm of your hand.

You're probably wondering what the fuck, right?

Yeah, I know me too, so let's take it from the tippy top,

shall we?

Ahem!

Before the incident…

You had gotten home a bit earlier than usual it was a slow day at the sandwich shop you worked at, and your manager let you take an early leave.

Normally you would have stayed the entire shift, but then you remembered you had some chores to get done, so you took him up on his offer.

After walking the short distance to your shared apartment, you unlocked the door and immediately hung up your coat, and took your shoes off.

You decided to go ahead and get started with the laundry first so you could relax a bit while the clothes were washing. After gathering up all your items, you headed towards your roommate's door. It wasn't unusual that you'd wash his clothes as well. You both took turns with things like laundry, washing dishes, and cleaning up.

It was just an unspoken thing you and him started when you first moved in together.

Carrying the clothes basket on your hip, you knocked softly on his door, looking up confused as you heard a tiny creak and saw the door swinging open.

You could have sworn the door was closed.

However

It wasn't

And you definitely were not expecting to see what you saw.

Heeseung, your roommate, took this perfect opportunity to relieve himself of some pent-up frustration, and what better way to do that than by giving himself a much-needed orgasm? He'd been too busy with his studies and a part-time job that he didn't have much time to get around like he used to, but finally, he had some free time, and luckily, you were at work for another two hours, so he had the apartment all to himself.

At first, he hated the idea of sharing an apartment cause. Obviously, he wanted to be able to do whatever he wanted freely without having to consider anyone else, but that all quickly went out the window when he saw you.

He remembered the day you moved in with him like it was yesterday. It was nearly ninety degrees outside, and you were wearing the shortest of shorts and a white top that was see-through, and since you were sweating while struggling to move all your stuff in, the thin material clung to your body, showing every last dip and curve which left nothing to his wild imagination.

Of course, being the gentleman he is, he helped you with your boxes, and he also shamelessly eyed you up and down the whole time.

It was probably all in his head, but every time you went to grab more stuff from the trunk of your car, it was as if you were intentionally sticking your ass out just for him.

And god, just the thought of you could have him riled up in seconds, but in his defense, he hadn't had any in months.

As soon as he found out it was you he'd be sharing a living space with, he was happy, to say the least, because who wouldn't want to share an apartment with the hottest girl to walk the earth? To him, anyways.

Since that day, not a second went by, where he didn't think about how cute you looked in your pajama set or how amazing you looked in the morning and especially right before work when you tied your hair in a messy bun. That look was definitely his favorite.

When he caught a glimpse of you leaving for work today, it was impossible for him to contain all the lewd thoughts he had about you, the things he would give to have your soft tiny hands around his cock and to feel your sweet pussy sucking him into your wet walls.

And right now was no different as he stripped himself down to nothing but his grey boxers and relaxed in his gaming chair, palming over his tent that had formed just from thinking of you.

Before he met you, he'd pull up some random adult videos on his computer, but since he laid eyes on you, literally no girl had his interest, and with his vivid imagination, it didn't take long for him to fantasize about you being the one palming him over his underwear right now.

He teasingly rubbed his tip through the thin material, and a wet patch had already soiled the front of the fabric. From the first touch, he knew he wasn't going to last long. He impatiently pulled his hard dick out from the little hole in front of his boxers and stroked himself up and down slowly.

"Shit, that feels so good," he groaned at the contact, resting his head on his chair.

He focused on the tip with his left hand and used the other to massage his entire shaft twisting his wrist every now and then, abdomen tensing from the overwhelming stimulation.

He heard a quiet noise in the distance, but he paid no mind to it. You weren't coming home for hours, so he figured it was just something outside and continued to stroke his hard thick length.

But when he heard a loud gasp and the sound of something hitting the floor, that's when he stopped and opened his eyes to be met with a very wide-eyed you standing in his doorway.

You were too shocked to even move, let alone speak. How could you when you just caught your roommate jerking off with his door open? And on top of that, you kinda liked what you saw even though it was so wrong to think like that.

But now that your brain had fully registered just how wrong it was to watch him masturbating, you quickly covered your eyes, but only after staring for nearly a whole minute.

"I-I'm sorry I-I was just doing some laundry a-and you know uhh, never mind, I'll just come back later!" you laughed in the most awkward way possible, but before you could turn on your heels and leave him to his business. He spoke to you and stopped you right in your tracks.

"Or you could stay," He chuckled. "and isn't it a little bit too late for that? I mean, you've already seen everything," he looked down at his lap, grunting softly when he took his hard cock in his hand once again, pumping it very, very slowly.

Yeah, sure, it was too fucking late, but that didn't mean you had to stand there and watch that extremely beautiful sight any longer.

You felt like a creep.

But how the fuck was he so unfazed by you catching him in such a compromising position?

Why wasn't he yelling at you to get out?

And more importantly, why was he smirking when he saw you?

Truth be told, he really didn't mind you watching him get himself off. If anything, he was flattered, besides it's not like you were spying, so why not give you a little show to add even more excitement to his current situation.

"You must have liked what you saw, no? because it sure took you long enough to cover your eyes" he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, and there's no denying his dick got impossibly hard ever since you walked in. You'd think it would have been the opposite, but no, it wasn't. He was enjoying every last second of this.

Of course, you liked what you saw. How could you not drool at the sight of your very hot sexy beautiful handsome stunning gorgeous roommate pleasuring himself?

Impossible.

Still, you lied.

"N-no," you stuttered out.

"Oh? Well, maybe you should look again just to be sure, yeah?" he cocked his head to the side with a teasing smile on his face running his fingers along his shaft.

You were ashamed of how fast you dropped your hands from covering your eyes, but he was offering, so you couldn't say no, could you? I mean, maybe, but wouldn't that be rude?

Since you weren't a rude person, you accepted his suggestion, And it was just as surprising as the first time. You knew he was big cause you may or may not have eyed his print one too many times when he casually walked around in grey sweats, but to see it on full display like this was absolutely breathtaking.

He put one hand behind his head, smirking while he watched your eyes become darker with lust the longer you stared. "So? Is it still a no?"

What kind of fucking question is that? It was never a no, to begin with, and you were pretty sure he knew that. Any woman or man would be crazy not to appreciate such a beautiful cock.

"Y-yeah, I mean, no," You stammered over your words, clearly not able to coherently respond because you were too focused on what he was doing to himself. He just smiled at the effect has was having on you. "I like it," you clarified for him. He nearly let out a moan when the words breathlessly fell from your lips. His cock involuntarily twitched in his palm at the sound of your shy tone.

"Yeah?" He asked and added just a little bit of urgency to the movement of his hand. He was desperately trying to hold off cause there was no way he was going to put on a short show, not when he had such a beautiful audience.

You nodded and discreetly rubbed your thighs together from the almost painful throbbing between them.

"Stay" he ran his thumb over his slit spreading the precum on his shaft while watching every last expression you made. "Watch me cum for you," he said with a shaky breath.

You accidentally moaned, and as fast as your hands flew to your mouth, it was far too late to cover it up. He had already heard it loud and clear.

"Fuck y/n," he moaned, and he literally never moaned, but something about the way you were watching him had him so riled up that he was doing things he'd never do, such as using his free hand to flick over his hardened nipples. "You like watching your roommate touch himself? He teased. "Hmm?" Does this get you off?" He grunted and fastened his pace, quickly getting impatient, but he couldn't control himself when it came to you.

You could only watch in silence save the sticky sounds of his palm colliding with his wet base and breathy moans.

His toes curled into the carpet beneath his feet, Head falling back, and his eyes rolling in the back of his head. "Oh god, fuck, y/n, you're gonna make me fucking cum” he moaned out, and it was the hottest thing ever to hear him moaning your name so breathless and whiny.

This time you didn't even try to hold back your whimpers and moans. You couldn't help but imagine how good he'd feel inside of you.

A gush of wetness stained your panties at the thought, but you couldn't care less; besides, you were doing the laundry later anyway.

Your eyes were glued to him, tightly gripping his cock while he jerked himself off, faster and faster, quickly nearing his end. Unfiltered moans slipped past his lips as the first rope of hot cum spilled from his red tip. "Y/n, look at me, please look at me," his voice sounded so whiny and desperate. He hunched forward as more long strings of cum stained his carpet chair and boxers, but he couldn't be bothered with that right now.

You locked eyes with him fulfilling his request with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. He looked even sexier, like this all sweaty chest heaving up and down and his face twisted in nothing but pure pleasure.

"Shit, that felt so fucking good" he let out a breathy chuckle, eyes still very much hazy and filled with lust while he rubbed out the rest of his high.

He dipped his two middle fingers in the puddle of cum on his stomach and held them to his mouth, using the tip of his tongue to clean his digits of his release, something else he had never done before, but he was so glad that he did when he saw how you bit your lip in the most suggestive manner ever and rubbed your thighs together.

He leaned back, catching his breath. Your eyes raked over his Adam's apple as he gulped.

A few beats of silence passed, before he stood up, letting his underwear fall at his ankles, He stepped out of them and made his way over to you.

You used every ounce of strength not to look down, but you failed so miserably.

"Sorry to keep you from your laundry," he whispered, and you felt his warm heavy breath fan across your face making you shiver as he handed you his underwear with a smirk on his face while purposely brushing his hand against yours.

You stood in place, frozen outside of his room. Even after he shut his door, you still didn't move one inch.

So yeah, that's basically the story of how you ended up with your roommate's cum stained underwear in your hand.

Pretty cool, right?

Well, one thing you knew for sure was after that, you were going to be doing something, but it definitely wasn't going to be the laundry.

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #kpop smut #fanfic #enhypen hard hours

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imamuzansimp-oldblog-seoseoya · 1 month

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Hi, may I make a hc request on the uppermoons + Muzan reacting to their human s/o getting her period and BAD cramps & how they would comfort her (if they’d even do it lmao😭) yk.. since blood = food, but they still love their s/o

Uppermoons + Muzan reacting to Fem!S/O with bad period cramps

content warnings: fluff, suggestive, manga spoilers, periods, mentions of blood and cramps, cuddles

word count: ~700

a/n: eeeeeeee!!!!! my first proper request! i’m so excited! i hope you don’t mind i only did the first three uppermoons + muzan for now, but i’ll come back to the others another time.

a/n 2: this is a tad bit rushed since i wrote this right before going to sleep

Muzan

okay but he lowkey has no clue what’s happening

even though he’s had multiple wives in the past, he was never really there. thus, he had no clue what to do

at first he just kinda stood there like 🕴️

but then he realized he should probably do something so he asked you what you needed

“my dear, what do you require?” he’d say. “it hurts…” you whine. your period had recently started and the cramps hurt like hell. “what hurts, did someone bring harm to you? whoever did shall die where they stand!” and you momentarily panic because nobody had hurt you. “no! zannie, nobody hurt me! don’t worry! it’s just my period!” you yelped, worried for the poor soul that narrowly might’ve escaped muzan’s wrath. “your…. period?” it’s rare that muzan appears bewildered, so this is a sight. “yea… basically for about a week every month, women have their periods. basically, it’s a time where we bleed out of our vagina and unfortunately it comes with way. too. many. cramps. there’s also other things like cravings and mood swings.” you explained. you noticed muzan started to get a hungry look in his eye. he had thought he’d smelled blood, but knowing it was from you and not because you were injured, he was resisting the urge to devour it that instant. “are you currently in pain due to cramps?” he asked, ever so politely. you nodded, it hurt like nothing else. “heat usually helps…” you muttered. muzan began to approach you. he snapped, and in just seconds the strum of a biwa was heard and a warm blanket and cup of tea appeared before you. muzan then proceeded to cuddle closer to you in the bed, and before you knew it, he was drinking your menstrual blood as he held your blanket covered waist. thank goodness the tea didn’t spill.

(i sorta got carried away)

Kokushibo

since he had a wife and kid (that he cared for) back when he was human, he knows how to handle it.

the second he smells blood he knows what’s happening and he enters your room with ice cream, mochi, tea, etc. and a pack that has been heated by the sun

he can control himself around your blood, especially because i believe the thought of drinking your blood would disgust him

“koku….” you said weakly as you watched him walk in the room. “my dear…” all six of his eyes softened when he laid eyes on you. “how’d you know?” you asked. “i’m a demon and your lover, i could sense it.” he rested the heated pack on your crotch and gave you the sweets before he cuddled close. soon enough the cramps faded as your eyes dropped and you fell asleep in kokushibo’s arms.

(omg that was so short compared to muzan’s i’m sorry)

dōma

knows about periods. this is a fact.

drinks your blood. another fact.

nothing else to say except this:

dōma walked in seeing you curled up in a ball on your bed. he chuckled and said in his will-bending voice: “you poor little thing, you’re on your period aren’t you darling?” and you just laid there in pain and whimpered a ‘yes’. he walked closer to you, before putting a comforting hand to your cheek. “well, baby, did you know that stimulation can help with cramps?” he worded a question, though your answer wouldn’t change his imminent actions. “s-stimulation?” you looked up at him. “oh, baby, you know what I mean…”

akaza

another guy who knows what it is

so respectful and he doesn’t eat women so obviously he doesn’t drink your blood

he just lets you curl up into him as he rubs your tummy 🥹

i’m sorry but akaza got me like 🧎‍♀️

“kaza…” you whimpered as best you could. “‘t hurts” you whined. your boyfriend stepped into the room. wordlessly, he approached you and got under the blankets. the first word he spoke occurred once he latched on as the big spoon with his big hands rubbing your stomach gently. “baby… don’t worry… i’ll always keep you from pain…” you leaned into his touch and stayed like that for the rest of the evening.

#demon slayer #demon slayer fluff #demon slayer x reader #kny #kny x reader #muzan x reader #kokushibo x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #muzan kibutsuji #kokushibo #douma #akaza

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sprout-fics · 10 months

Text

Rotes Mädchen: Chapter 4

(Werewolf! König x Red Riding Hood! Reader)

(Art by the lovely @zwienzixes)

(Masterlist)

Word count: 4.9k Rating: PG-13 Tags: Werewolf! König, Fairytale AU, Monster Hunters TF141, Traditional German Fairytale setting, World Building/Lore, F! Reader, Sexual tension, Slow burn, Domesticity, Unlacing corsets but in the slowest most sensuous way possible Warnings: Sexual harassment by unnamed characters

You blink again, feeling the damp mist of morning swirl against the hem of your skirt as you look down the path to the front of your garden where two figures lean against the twisted trunk of an aspen tree.

"Morrrrnin'." Soap drawls at you, smirk plastered across his face at the shock in your expression- not expecting two witchers to be awaiting you outside your front door.

"M-morning." You reply after a few moments, quelling your surprise. Soap beams at you, and beside him Gaz offers a little roll of his eyes towards his companion at the clear smugness there.

"Laswell asked for you." Gaz explains when Soap fails to elaborate on their presence. "She mentioned she wanted you to pick some herbs for her and sent us to escort you."

"Escort me?" You ask with a little huff of amusement, raising an eyebrow at them. "What, like some sort of damsel in distress?"

"Aye." Soap offers as he straightens off his perch with a little roll of his shoulders. He stands before you, broad as he places his hands on his hips in a demonstration of sarcastic machismo. "We are but faithful knights to your safety, yer highness."

You have to hide a girlish smile behind your hand at that, endeared by Soap's teasing flirtations. There's an easiness about him you appreciate, that softens the anxiety of the world around you, the burden of the secret in your home that remains dozing in the loft of your home. You had refused to wake König, had instead left a small, scrawled note of your venture outside for errands and a promise to return soon.

Instead, you had found this, the mysterious presence of two monster hunters who had awaited your appearance in the misty brightness of late morning.

"What he means is that there's a dangerous monster in the forest, and Laswell would rather you not be out there by yourself." Gaz again elaborates, offering Soap a nudge in the side as the Scot cries out in feigned hurt. Yet they both look to you expectantly, offering boyish smiles as they await your response.

"Well." You sigh at last. "I suppose I can't refuse two handsome gentlemen such as yourselves."

"Aww, she called us handsome." Soap drawls, nudging Gaz in the side with his elbow. Gaz shoves him a little back playfully, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Can agree with me, at least. Might need to get your eyes checked about him." He tells you wryly, much to Soap's displeasure.

"Oi-"

"Shall we get a move on, gentlemen?" You ask as they begin to playfully cajole each other into rough housing, until they both turn and offer their horses to you. You stride past them, put a boot in the stirrup of Soap's mare and deftly swing yourself into the saddle, offering the pair a clever smile as they stare up at you in surprise.

"You two can share." You declare, clipped, nudging the mare in the direction of the village road as they cry out after you in dismay.

----

You end up sharing with Soap after all, as the three of you pick your way off one of the more isolated trails into the gulley of the forest. You know the path well, know nightshade and chamomile grows deep in the shadows, know which leaves to gather, and those to leave alone let the thorns bite at your fingertips.

There's easy conversation amongst the three of you, as you capture their rapt attention in your ramblings about the village, herbs, Laswell, the forest itself. In turn, Gaz and Soap share their own limited knowledge about your craft, and detail that which you don't know about theirs. They share tales of gargoyles and necromancers, creatures of the night, curses and demons and dead kings.

They tell you too about the wolf.

"Werewolves are especially hard to kill." Gaz explains from his saddle beside you, voice lower now. Grim. "Especially during full moons."

"I thought they shift only during full moons?" You offer, and Soap makes a little grunt of frustration behind you. it's not directed at you, but you can feel the annoyance sit low in his chest pressed against your back.

"They can shift at will." He elaborates, voice colored with a low simmering irritation, likely at their currently fruitless hunt. "Full moon is just when they lose control."

"And bite people?" You ask, to which he and Gaz exchange a look.

"It's uncommon, but yes. Treatable too, if you catch it soon enough."

It clicks then, the herb that they must be searching for, the cure to the ailment they may end of facing.

"Wolfsbane." You breathe, twisting in your saddle to look up at Soap behind you, who smiles, pleased.

"Told ya' she's a smart lass." He comments to his comrade beside him, who chuckles in response. "Aye, wolfsbane. Tastes like shite but will cure you right fast."

You cast him a little look of wry amusement before facing forward once more. "Have you tried making it into tea?" You ask mildly. "Or...bread? Soup? Liqour?"

"Liquor...why didn't I think of that?" Gaz mumbles, barely audible beside you both. "Could have been drinking wolfsbane ale this whole time and not choking it down raw."

"Bet it still tastes like piss." Soap points out, and Gaz gives him a withering look.

"You will drink anything that has liqour." He points out, to which Soap splutters but offers no rebuttal. "Besides-"

Gaz looks at you, a little more seriously now. "We can take it, we...are a little different than regular people. A small dose for us would kill most humans within a few hours. For us we get feverish and a tad sick, but it won't kill us. It’s better than being a werewolf."

You nod at that, and want to press for more. You knew from the moment you saw the witchers that they were...different. They're broader, taller, more intent than other men you've seen. There's an inherent keenness to them that speaks of awareness, more than that of an average human. It makes sense. Mortals of your kind were not bred to hunt creatures such as werewolves, let alone all manner of other beasts that roam these lands.

Gaz must see the contemplation in your eyes, the silent rumination, because he reaches the distance across from you, between the horses and nudges your shoulder with his leathered palm.

"You can ask." He offers gingerly, eyes kind. "We don't mind."

"Gaz's right." Soap supplies. "Truth is, hen, we've taken a bit of a shine to ye. Laswell trusts ye, and we can see why."

You squirm a little at that, face tucked into your hood, abashed but pleased at their comments. It's nice, this. It's often lonely in the village, in the place where so many others don't trust you, look at you skeptically from the corner of their eyes, whisper about you even where you can hear. Here, between these men with blood that runs hotter, higher, more potent, you feel a familiar sense of otherness that to you feels like belonging.

So, you ask, and you learn more of them.

They weren't always witchers, they tell you. First, they had been boys. Orphans, or given up to older witchers to be trained, honed, broken and rebuilt. Over the course of years, the four of them had stopped being boys, had begun to grow less human, and by the time they reached adulthood they were no longer mortal.

Witchers.

Gifted with superior sights, hearing, reflexes, strength. They can easily fight with the power of twenty men, born and bred to rid the lands of creatures that stalk and kill more fragile things.

Things like you.

It had taken them many years to find each other. Price had been the first, and you knew this from when he spoke to you. He had originally met Ghost when the younger witcher was still in his trials, had spoken encouragements to him that allowed Ghost to overcome the remainder of his training in ways few others had before him. Yet by that time Price was gone, hunting down a witch in the far western lands, one with grey eyes and a thin, wry smile.

"Laswell." You breathe to Gaz, much like a little girl listening to a beloved, enrapturing fairytale. Gaz smiles knowingly at you before continuing on.

Price had been meant to kill her, but upon realizing Kate was not the dark enchantress the villagers who had summoned him made her out to be, he made a different call. Instead, he had traveled with Kate for a time, until they had once more come upon Ghost.

Soap and Gaz go quiet then, and you feel a silent sense of regret, grief between them. You're afraid to press into it, but at last Soap offers the hidden tale of the masked witcher who had once terrified you with his mere presence.

"Roba." Soap offers, voice low, grim.

Roba, the name of the necromancer Ghost had been sent to kill by the man who had trained him, only to be betrayed. Roba had kept Ghost, had tortured him, had failed to break him despite everything. When Price and Laswell had eventually found him, Ghost had already been cursed by the necromancer, a bearing that even to this day forces him to conceal himself lest others be horrified by the appearance of a dead man under the mask.

It has been Price and Laswell who had helped Ghost kill Roba, and the man who had betrayed him. It was only after the battle that Laswell declared herself tired of traveling, and had come to settle in your valley village, while you were still very young.

Price continued on with Ghost at his side, and eventually they had found Gaz, who belonged to a small coven of witchers that protected a haven for those of their kind. Yet when Gaz had listened to promises of adventure and conquest from Price, he had been eager to leave behind his keep and travel alongside them. Price had easily taken him under his wing, had guided him in all the things Gaz had yet to experience as a young witcher.

It had only been once the three of them were united that they found Soap.

Soap goes quiet then, unexpectedly, and you gingerly shift in the saddle to see the hard set of his jaw, the grimace in his expression that speaks of anger, regret.

"You don't have to say it, mate." Gaz declares softly, and Soap only shakes his head.

"My squad was wiped out." He tells you softly, but his voice is hard, stony with grim memory. "We were all too bloody green, too fresh to be hunting what we were after."

You wait for him to continue, and after a few moments of silence you wonder if he actually will.

"A werewolf." Soap finishes at last, voice close to a snarl, low and dangerous in the back of his throat.

He goes on to tell you the story, spares you the details of his fellow witchers' deaths by the beast, tells you only that he had been the one to kill the thing, had sat for days surrounded by the bodies of his friends and his sword embedded in the chest of the werewolf. It had been Price and the others that had found him, had lifted him from where he kneeled and silently accepted him into the fold.

You nod at that, trying to tell yourself it's a happy ending at least. After all, they're together now, found themselves despite all the trials and tribulations. The team they are now is one of loyalty, skill, solidarity, trust. You can think of no one else better to defend your village against the shadow that lurks in the trees.

"So then how do you kill a werewolf?" You ask after several long minutes, adjusting in your seat as the horses begin to descend downhill into a gully.

"With patience." Gaz replies with a little grunt, reigning in his mare from walking too fast. "They heal fast unless you hit them with silver. Wolfsbane helps too."

"Which is why we're finding it." You conclude, leaning back into Soap's chest as he palms the reins in one hand, wrapping a brawny armored arm across your front to keep you from slipping. Your face warms at the contact, remembering the sensation of being at Price's back as you both rode back from Laswell's those nights ago.

Strangely, the memory fades to something else, to the press of a warm, solid frame that loomed above yours, one arm slung over your shoulder as you helped him walk from the forest under the cover of darkness, where he murmured a soft, breathy "Danke, Fraulein." As he at last rested in the safety of your home.

"That-" Soap says from behind you, startling you from reverie. "-and to check the traps we lay."

"Traps?" You echo, when suddenly both men urge their steeds to a halt, Gaz easily slipping from his saddle and walking over to a small pile of crinkled leaves just a few steps from the path. Gingerly, he brushes them aside, revealing a jaw-like contraption laying open against the ground. Empty.

He makes a small sound of disapproval, turning to Soap and talking over your head.

"Not this one, thing may have learned to avoid them after we got him the other night." He comments, brow creasing in frustration. Soap's grumble mirrors Gaz's expression, discontent at their findings.

"What is that?" You find yourself asking, eyeing the strange metal contraption with a healthy amount of caution.

"Bear trap." Soap explains quickly. "Won't kill werewolves but may keep them long enough for us to catch up."

"Our werewolf managed to get himself loose before we could find him." Gaz sighs ruefully, covering the trap once more. "We tried to follow the blood trail, but lost him over a creek. Smart bugger."

You consider that, that the monster that Price and the others hunt is not just dangerous, wild, untamed, but intelligent. It knows it's being hunted, adapts to the wolves of a different breed that nips at its heels under the cloak of darkness. What Soap has said makes sense now, that werewolves are hard to kill, that you need to be patient, smart, and absolutely prepared at any moment to face the monster.

"No matter." Gaz declares, standing and stretching, making back for his horse. "We'll catch it during the full moon."

"Aye." Soap agrees, but his voice is low, a warning. "Dangerous time to be hunting werewolves. It may lose its mind, but it'll be that much more dangerous."

"So, we better finish our own hunt then." Gaz announces, swinging gracefully back into his saddle and taking point as he continues down the path. He turns so he leans over his shoulder at you, offering a reassuringly bright smile.

"Where to?"

---

It takes you the better part of the day to find the hardy purple flowers that grows from the soft, wet soil of creek beds in the hills. You gather as much as you can, and even when Gaz and Soap warn you about the soon-setting sun you try to continue pulling the wolfsbane from where it grows. You aren't like the two of them. You can't hunt monsters, you can't heal quickly, can't fight against beasts. What you can do is this, is help them how you can, and you tell yourself it is enough.

The journey back towards the village is quick, the sun setting low behind the hills and cast the forest in waning light that whispers of ominous darkness. You can't help but trace the trees where you sit in Gaz's saddle, heart murmuring in apprehension as you expect to see the sight you saw that night- of a gigantic, looming figure toeing the edge of the path, eyes glowing, a growl deep in its chest.

As you ride back into the village, you see lanterns flicker on in the houses you pass. Several torches light the square, alighting a small group of men who huddle and discuss with each other in low, grim tones. They silence as you, Soap, and Gaz pass them. Though the two witchers don't bother to glance their way, you do, and instantly wither at the disdainful wariness in their gazes. It's only once you're past them that a voice rings out in your direction.

"Whore!!"

You flinch.

Soap mutters a curse under his breath, tugs his reins back in the direction of the men, only for Gaz's gloved palm to shoot out and grasp at the Scot. His eyes are serious as he looks at Soap, mouth a thin line of disapproval as he slowly shakes his head. You can still see the fury in Soap's gaze, but it's restrained as he forces himself to swallow it down.

Gaz then turns his attentions to you, smile sad but kind as you tuck yourself back into his chest, trying to hide, cheeks warm and shoulders hunched in a mixture of shame and hurt.

"Don't listen to them." He tells you softly, one hand gently settling atop yours in your lap. You nod, shoot him a grateful look, one that doesn't ease the remaining anxious flutter of your heartbeat.

By the time the two witchers deposit you back at your doorstep it is well and truly dark, the lanterned lights of the village doing little to illuminate the lane where your small cottage resides. You try and tell them to be careful, but the pair merely shoot you playful, withering glances in the same vein of Price.

We're Witchers, love.

Even so, they assure you that the bundles of wolfsbane they carry back to Laswell will offer them protection as they canter back in the direction of her home.

You watch them go and try not to think about how much you'll miss them after they leave for good.

"You're back!" König chirps as you step inside and the door latches behind you. You smile at the bright tone of his voice, excited, eager to see you. There's an unfamiliar brightness that alights in your chest, the feeling of being welcomed so wholly, so jovially as soon as you step into the confines of your own home. It feels different than Laswell, with her easy but mysterious demeanor, different than the shy bashfulness of being around Price and the others. Here, you feel like you can be entirely yourself, allow König to see the weariness behind your smile.

He's warming himself near the fire as you step inside, hands outstretched as the scant warmth of daytime fades. He's coaxed the hearth into a slow, tender flame that licks just shy of his palms. A pot of water hovers above it, and once again the soft, grateful comfort of coming home to good company fills your chest so suddenly it nearly aches.

"You were gone all day." König offers as you come closer, deposit your scarlet cape atop a chair with a little sigh. "I-"

König pauses, breathes in. You blink, watch as a strange puzzlement passes over his features, his chest rising as he takes a long, dragging inhale through his nose.

"W-what is that?" He asks, voice wavering slightly, and you blink, a similar look of confusion clouding your features. You stare at him silently, trying to decipher whatever he's alluding to, and eventually glance to your skirt, your cape, seeing if perhaps there's something you don't recognize that could have spawned his reaction. Finding nothing, you eventually look back at him.

For a single moment, you swear König’s eyes glint yellow.

He stands, the motion rather abrupt, and his height nearly makes you startle, still unaccustomed to the sheer length of his build that towers over you.

"I-I heated some water." He manages, voice strained. "In case you...maybe wanted to bathe."

You relax a little at that, the idea of a warm soak a much-needed relaxation to the ache of being in a saddle all day. Still, you raise a playful eyebrow at your visitor, mouth quirking.

"Why, do I smell?" You ask, and König splutters, instantly raising his hands and waving them in defense.

"N-nein!" He exclaims, and you giggle at the frantic, indignant widening of his eyes beneath his hood. If you look close enough, you can almost swear there's a faint pinkness rising to his cheeks.

"I'm only teasing." You reassure him, and watch his shoulders droop in relief, failing to resist a grin.

König startles as you pass him in the direction of the wood wash bin you keep tucked to one side of the kitchen, sucking in a sharp breath as you near him. You wonder idly if perhaps you were a little too harsh with your teasing, considering his strange reaction to your proximity. He doesn't make to assist you in dragging the tub across the floor, nor does he move from where he stands as you lift the now simmering kettle to pour into the tub. Your hands briefly dip into the water, testing the temperature, watching Konig out of the corner of your eye. He seems to ease as you dry your hands on your skirt, gaze lifting to regard you more fully.

It's a bit odd, the way he watches you. It's not necessarily uncomfortable, not in the way that some of the villagers watch you. Their gazes rake across your form, scarcely conceal the apprehension, the disdain behind their eyes. You're still trembling a bit from earlier, turn in such a way that König can't see it. His eyes follow the motion, gaze keen, unblinking. There's an interest in his stare that feels far less like a scowl and more of a silent watchfulness, an unwavering focus that leaves goosebumps trailing along your flesh.

Like a wolf.

You shake away the thought, cast him a shy look over your shoulder. You catch his eyes just for a moment, see him blink as if he was enraptured at something you couldn't see. He straightens under your eyes, but tilts his head down towards his shoes, as if abashed at being caught staring.

"Would you mind, König?" You ask him gingerly, damp hands rising to the back laces of your bodice meaningfully.

Usually, you can undo them by yourself, but the ache of your spine from riding with two witchers all day, and the effort of straining your arms, scrambling up rocky creek beds in search of wolfsbane has you hard to reach the ties.

König shifts where he stands, a little apprehensively, until at last he approaches, broad hands settling at the dip of your back as he slowly tugs the laces apart. You can't tell if his hands are trembling, or if he's just unused to the motion against his fingers. It takes him more time than you expected to part the laces enough for you to have the space to shrug out of the bodice. Before you can, his hand dips in the space between your bodice and your chemise, pressing a featherlight touch against the small of your spine.

You shiver.

König pulls away at once, so suddenly it's as if he's been burned. You look at him over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and finding a matching look of surprise there at his gentle but blatant touching. König looks stricken, guilty, and there's a choked little apology on his lips, as if he too is shocked at his own actions.

You clear your throat a little awkwardly, averting your gaze towards the tub, and fortunately König instantly understands, putting space between you both and tugging the privacy screen as he goes. You hear him take a chair, and as you peek towards him you find him sitting himself facing the wall, offering you an extra layer of privacy. It's strangely endearing, the hunch of his shoulders, as if he's a boy being sent to think on his misdeeds.

You set yourself to the washtub, draping your layers over the screen until you gently scoot yourself, knees folded, into the tub. There's a little sigh that escapes your lips in relief, and though the water barely covers your hips, the warmth is a welcome respite for your tired muscles.

"We went up into the hills today." You offer in the strange silence that follows, and you hear König release an exhale as if he'd been holding his breath. "Laswell sent us looking for wolfsbane."

"Wolfsbane." König echoes, and you blink at the strangeness of his tone, dipping low in his chest with a hint of annoyance. It's gone in a moment as he asks: "...Laswell is the healer at the other side of the woods, Ja?"

"Yes." You reply, knowing he can't see you nod. "She's been my friend for as long as I can remember."

You pause, stare down into the bathwater.

"Maybe...my only friend."

König is silent.

You perk up, smile up in his direction, even if it's a little forced. "You're my friend too, König."

König sits a little straighter at that, and you think, even though you can't see his face, that maybe he's smiling.

"You're...my friend too, fraulein." He offers hesitantly. "A very good friend."

You smile a little broader at that, reach for the soap and begin to scrub off. The grime from digging in the moss and dirt soon comes clean, and you begin to start on the rest of your skin as well.

"The two men from earlier..." He offers after a few minutes of silence. "Are they your friends too?"

You pause, consider.

"I think so." You reply slowly. "I'd like them to be, but..."

You think once more about the witchers you've become friends with, of Soap's easy going amicable nature, of Gaz's trustful eyes, of Ghost's quiet but steady presence, of Price's gaze that weighs heavy on your shoulders, watching.

"But...?" König echoes uncertainly.

You heave a little sigh. "They won't stay here." You declare solemnly. "Once they catch the wolf they're hunting, they'll move on. So, I guess it doesn't really matter."

König is silent at that, and you don't blame him. There's little to offer in that regard. Not even an apology for the things you're yet to miss.

You rinse off, feeling cleaner, stand up from the water and let it drip from your bare skin. When you glance towards König, he remains steadfast, gazing into the corner and not moving. It makes you smile a bit, seeing his embarrassment at the idea of being anything less than a gentleman towards you.

"I...didn't have many friends growing up either." He offers as you dry off near the fire, voice somber, lonesome in a way you recognize all too well. "My mother, she took care of me, but the children that were in the same village as me..." He trails off, looking a little lost. "They weren't kind."

You eye him woefully, pause long enough to see his shoulders sink a little, feel a sense of heartache tug inside you as well.

"Your mother." You speak softly, as you reach for a clean chemise in the trunk near your bed. "...What happened to her?"

König is silent for a few moments, and you wonder if perhaps you've pushed too far. Before you can offer an apology, his voice softly returns to yours.

"She died." He says simply, voice a little muted. "and I was chased out of the village soon after. I've...been traveling ever since."

Dressed now, feet still bare, skin still a little damp, you turn to him. König doesn't turn to look at you, focused now not on the stone wall before him, but on his feet. He’s curled in on himself, as if suddenly he feels like he’s the only person here. You know the slouch of his spine, feel it in yourself. After a moment's hesitation you gently pad over to him. At first you rest a palm on his shoulder, feel the shudder he gives you as a result. Yet he doesn't move it, doesn't force himself to dislodge it, and slowly you slide it around to his front, draping yourself carefully across his back in an embrace.

"I'm sorry." You whisper against the soft, worn fabric of his hood. König doesn't answer except for one, large palm that settles on your arms loosely looped around his neck.

You stay like that for a while, feel the rise and fall of his breath in his shoulders, feel your own exhales tickle across his hood. You wait for him to pull away, not wanting to deprive him of this, but as the minutes tick by, you begin to wonder if he ever will.

"Would you ever leave?" He asks, barely a whisper.

You're silent for a long time, eventually turning your head to look up through the window beside you both, the one that faces the trees reaching up towards the ink blotted sky. The clouds roll past the bright moon, heavy and waxing towards fullness. You watch it, feel it tug something in your chest, an awareness you don't recognize just yet. When you speak, it's as soft as the embrace you've fallen into against him.

"...Yes."

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#konig x reader #konig x you #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x fem reader #my writing #my fic #fic: rotes madchen

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shu-porang-porang · 3 months

Text

Home at last

Pure fluff, coz my boy's so fluffy! (plus, I needed to wash away my previous fic!! 🥵)

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / reader (gender not specified)

Theme: fluff, a little angst if you squint

Warnings: not proofread

Word count: 0.8 k

It’s just another one of those days, when the world seems to crumble down around you and your tongue feels too heavy you don’t wanna speak a word. As much as you need to hear his voice, you don’t wanna trouble him with your blues, he’s busy enough as is, why bother him with your mood swings? You’re watching a random episode of your comfort sitcom to try and distract yourself when his name appears on your phone screen, as if he sensed you need him.

“Hey gorgeous! How are you?” his sweet voice brings a smile to your lips.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks.”

“..hmm… are you sure? That’s not how your voice sounds like.”

“Yea… I’m fine.”

“I’m coming over.”

“No, you don’t need to, I know you had a busy day.”

“Nonsense. I’ll be there soon.”

He hangs up so you don’t get a chance to argue. Despite having been dating for only a few months, he knows you like the back of his hand. He knows you tend to keep everything to yourself, so if he doesn’t try to help, you’d never reach out.

Finally, he’s here, with bags of takeouts in his hands. As soon as you see his warm smile and glittering eyes, your heart skips a beat. He puts the bags down and opens his arms to you. You hug him impossibly tight, pressing your cheek to his chest.

“Thanks for coming.” You mumble to his chest.

“Anything for you, babe.”

He breaks the hug and cups your cheeks in his hands.

“I really missed you.” he says while leaning in to capture your lips. A few gentle kisses later and you already feel much better.

He points to the bags “shall we eat?”.

“I’m not really hungry…”

“Were you gonna skip dinner again?”

You don’t answer, just stare at the floor.

“Come on, let’s eat together.”

You follow him like a puppy. He sets the table and feeds you. No one ever treated you like this before, no one ever cared if you ate well or got enough rest. No one ever asked if you needed to talk. No one was ever there for you. Sure, you had friends and a seemingly loving family, but whenever you weren’t feeling well, they just kept away and let you be until you came around again on your own.

After dinner, you cuddle up in front of the TV, your back resting on his chest, his arms around your waist, a fluffy blanket covering you both.

“Are you comfortable jagya?”

You nod, looking up at him, he kisses your forehead. You turn your head back towards the TV and he rests his cheek on top of your head.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“There’s really nothing to say… you’re here and I feel much better.” you bring his hand up to your lips and kiss along a vein. He tightens his grip around you. The warmth radiating from his body melts your heart. You sink deeper in his embrace.

He kisses your temple. “Whenever you need me, I’ll be here, all you gotta do is say the word.” He whispers in your ear. You smile and nod at him. Oh you got words you wanna tell him so bad, but you’re afraid it’s too soon and would scare him off. You rest your head back on the juncture of his shoulder and neck. His cologne on his pulse point mixed with his scent engulf your senses. You can’t help but give a lingering peck to his neck. He nuzzles his cheek against your hair in response.

You feel like your heart is so full it could burst. How he turned your whole mood around. Right here, in his arms, it’s where you belong. You think no matter how shitty life gets, if you have him by your side, nothing can bother you or make you wanna give up. With him in your life, you could live forever or die happily any moment. You hate to admit a boy has such an impact on you, but he’s no ordinary boy, you’ve never come across someone like him, or maybe you think this way because… you’re in love.

You make up your mind, if it’s gonna scare him off, it better happen sooner than later, before the possible damage gets irreparable.

“Min?” you call out.

“Yes babe?”

“I think… I think I’m in love with you…”

“Well, that works out perfectly! Coz I’m in love with you too.” He says with a big bright smile on his face. Then he leans in to seal his words. He removes an arm from around your waist to cup your cheek. His lips move gently on yours, each kiss drenched in love, telling you things words never could. He feels like home, like the soothing breeze of a spring night, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms. A single tear rolls down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb.

He breaks the kiss: “Are you alright love?”

“I am, I really am, haven’t been this well for a long time.”

He keeps caressing your cheek as he adoringly gazes into your eyes, melting you into a puddle.

“My sweet sweet baby.” he says as he takes you back into his arms.

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dearsnow · 11 months

Text

NO PROMISES

- just as you’re settling down, hobie takes you out for the night. (hobie brown x gn!reader, fluff)

word count: 1129

a/n - this is for my very good friend @literally-hobie as part of a trade we did :) go give them all my love!!

The night is a relaxing one. You have your music playing as you relax on your bed, inhaling the crisp midnight air. The gentle rhythm of your breathing matches the song’s saccharine melody and the plushies next to you smile kindly at your figure. You are completely embraced by your calm sheets, until a sudden noise causes you to shoot up.

It’s a fast rapping at your window, like knuckles covered in fabric. You move to open it, staring directly into the eyes of your official-but-not boyfriend.

“Hobie!” You hiss. “You can’t be here. My parents are asleep in the next room over, and I seriously can’t be caught with you at,” you check your phone, “12:32 AM.” Your voice is rapt with hushed concern. “What do you need?”

He tilts his head lazily, like sticking to your windowsill is the easiest thing in the world. “I jus’ thought it would be cool to have some fun tonight. Hidden concert and all that. It starts in like ten minutes, but we don’t gotta be early.” Oh, it is so like him to do this sort of thing. You bite the inside of your cheek as you weigh your options. Though it’s not the safest idea, there’s nothing that you and him can’t handle. You don’t really have anything better to do anyways, and despite the late hour, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime.

“...Alright, just don’t get me killed on the way over.” He grins, and the sight makes your heart skip a beat.

“I can’t promise you anything. Nothing is ever certain.” He says, eyes sparkling and motioning for you to follow him.

You climb out your window carefully, helped by Hobie’s rough hands and gentle touch. He keeps a secure hold on your waist, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. He always manages to fluster you, no matter the situation.

He pulls you up, slinging a web up to your roof and setting you down upon the shingles. The view atop the world is the sweetest thing you’ve seen in a long while- excluding Hobie, of course. Stars twinkle overhead, fully visible and bright. You take a deep breath, smelling the hints of wet leaves and a touch of smoke.

“Shall we?” Hobie asks. As you nod, he swiftly picks you up and swings away without even a hint of effort.

Your heart flutters at the sudden weightless feeling, causing you to release a breathy laugh. You’ll never get used to flying through the air, no matter how many times he takes you swinging. Utter exhilaration courses through your veins as Hobie takes you from building to building until you finally reach the concert venue.

It’s set in a run-down old building that looks like it hasn’t had a roof for centuries. It must’ve been an office building or something, judging by the size of the ground floor. The walls are blown through, with many entrances and exits for quick escapes. Dozens of people are milling around the area, and all of them look extremely pumped. There are zero security guards, just how Hobie likes it.

As soon as he sets you down, right in front of the unstable looking makeshift stage, a drum beat starts. It’s followed by a guitar riff and the screaming of fans. Hobie slides an arm through yours and peers at your face, illuminated by the flashing stage lights. He’s never seen anything as amazing in his life.

The music gets your heart pumping as the band appears on stage, the melodies familiar yet nothing you have ever heard before. In every way, this night reminds you of Hobie.

“Like what you hear?” He all-but shouts into your ear, trying to be heard over the screams and rhythm. You smile wider than you’ve smiled in a long, long time as you nod. He seems satisfied as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

The music lasts about an hour, which is way too short in your opinion. Everyone else seems to agree, but it seems the band members have other places to be. Hobie pulls you aside as you walk out of the building, buzzing with excitement.

“Pretty nice, huh? I dig their commentary on the corruption of our current political system.” His voice is raspy as he stares at you. He always maintains eye contact, something you’ve noticed as you spend more time with him. He has a smile on his face, seeming to be genuinely happy. You’re so, so glad you went on this little adventure with him. Even if it was the worst experience of your life (which it definitely wasn’t), just seeing his smile would make everything worth it.

You smile back. “I loved it. You should take me out more often,” You tease, grabbing his arm. He lets out a quiet laugh, tipping his head back and staring the night dead in its eyes.

“We havta do this again. I follow the punk scene, so there’ll prolly be another show here in a few days. Would ya want to go with me?” His breath forms clouds in the cold night air, and you shiver a little bit.

“Of course, Hobie. Just warn me in advance.” You quip.

“Again, no promises.” He grins. “C’mon, there’s still night left. Let’s chill.”

He leads you away from the venue and down a street, making a game out of kicking pebbles and twigs. A laugh bubbles up from your chest as he kicks a rock so hard it dents an abandoned metal trash can. Damn, being Spider-Man really has its perks. When you finally reach the end of the road, you see a little set up of pillows and lights between two buildings and an overhang.

You take a step forward hesitantly. “Did you set this up?”

“Yeah, I figured it might be nice to have a place to ourselves.” He shrugs. There’s a sparkle of excitement flitting around in his eyes.

“Cool.” You breathe. He motions for you to sit down, and you comply.

Before you know it, he’s hanging from the overhand, face-to-face with you upside down. You laugh as his breath tickles your face. You know exactly what he’s asking for.

Your touch ghosts over his face, and you press your lips to his. You’ve kissed him before, but this is something new and exciting, something straight out of a comic book. It feels electric. His lips are a brushstroke of warmth against a soft canvas.

When you finally pull away, he is breathless like he just finally figured out how to be alive.

“We should do that again.” Hobie smirks, eyes gently peering into yours. The string lights overhead shimmer with a newfound glory.

“I would love to,” You whisper, smiling, “but no promises.”

#solar eclipse.#hobie brown atsv #hobie brown x reader #hobie headcanons #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie x you #atsv hobie #hobart brown #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #atsv x reader #atsv fanfiction #atsv fic

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princessbrunette · 3 months

Note

Kook!reader Mouthing off to jj and he looks up from whatever he’s doing and is like “ you better chill out or Ima tear that ass up” and her spoiled ass has never been spanked or anything so she thinks he’s bluffing and says he’s too pussy or something. So he just raises his eyebrows and 10 seconds later she’s over his knee confused, and he ends up making her cry bc she needs someone to show her who’s boss 🤭(I need this pls write it)

♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹♡

jj always got very concentrated and serious when he worked on his bike. it required his full attention, his lips pressed in a thin line with that crease appearing between his brows as he switched out tools and wrenches at whatever he can to fix the problem he’s facing with it. he’d learnt over the years to fix it by himself, hell — he could probably take the bike apart and rebuild it with his eyes closed. it was sexy, seeing him like that— the one downside was it meant less attention for you, and for a girl so spoiled that was a nightmare.

you sit on a stool near him as he works on twisting bolts and sorting wires on an inside panel of his bike. he doesn’t mind you being there, what he does mind is your constant nagging and unnecessary chatter. if it was too much for jj, it must have been bad.

“dont know, babe. it’ll be done when it’s done.” his eyes flutter with irritation as he answers your whining for what feels like the tenth time that minute.

“y’said that last time. you know i came alllll the way to the cut to hang out with you and you’re spending’ all this time with your bike.”

“well, y’haven’t even been here an hour and i told you i’d be done soon. so quit the whining, yeah?” he warns, and he thinks he’s finally shut you up— being met with purely peace and quiet as he continues working away. that is until, you pipe up once more.

“maybe you should date the bike then. seein’ as you love it more than me.”

the tool in his hand clanks against the ground as he drops it, using the same hand to run over his face, releasing a quiet hum of frustration as he tries to gather himself. he stands, turning fully to you with a malicious grin and a tongue in his cheek. you stare, wide eyed and unbothered, feet still swinging.

“i don’t know how your mommy and daddy deal with you back on the kook side’a the island— but over here this lil’ attitude you got goin’ on ain’t gonna fly too well with me, alright? cut it out ‘fore i make you.” he’s made his way over to you, jaw tight and big eyes flickering between yours. you tilt your head, a challenge.

“like you’re gonna do anything about it.” you tease and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“alright, okay— yeah, let’s see shall we?” he asks before he’s dragging you off the stool by the arm and leading you inside.

not even five minutes later, and he’s got you folded over his lap in tears, his large hand relentlessly coming down on your sore ass cheek, each hit making you squeal.

“did i say stop countin’? ‘cos i’m pretty sure i never said that.” he tilts his head, raising his voice just a tad as you hiccup and sniffle.

“seventeen.” you sob, holding onto his thigh for dear life.

“yeah. three more. you’ll think twice next time before you pull that kook shit on me, huh?”

“m’sorry jj!” you whine and it’s met with another spank.

“yeah, i bet.”

“eighteen!”

after you’ve had all the attitude smacked out of you, the blonde cradles you on his lap, rubbing his lips together guiltily as you cling onto him. you had to learn your lesson though, so after he made sure you were okay and got you anything you needed — he headed back outside to finish up on his bike.

he left you to sulk and think about your actions, and just as he was finishing up on his bike— he hears the quiet padding of your feet approaching once more, standing as quietly as you possibly could until he looked over, giving you permission to speak.

“i’m sorry, jj.” you mewl and he throws the rag he was wiping his hands on over his shoulder, pushing himself up to stand.

“i know, babydoll— you’re good now, yeah?”

you respond by lifting up your hand unsurely, pinching a wad of cash. “what’s that?” he asks, placing his tool back into its box.

“money to get the bike fixed so you can spend more time with me.” you sniffle quietly, unsure how he’s gonna take it. he chuckles, snatching his hat off and pulling you in for a hug, his arm around the back of your neck and hand rubbing your lower back.

“i finished with the bike, you goof.” it comes out muffled as he kisses the crown of your head. “and whilst i appreciate the gesture, there’s no freakin’ way i’d let anyone touch my bike.” he pulls back, offering you a friendly smile before pressing a kiss to the tip of your snotty nose and then bringing his fingers up to pinch at it, wiping the snot away. you crinkle your nose, and he starts to walk you backwards. “c’mon, let’s go inside.”

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#anon #jj maybank prompt

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the-broken-truth · 11 months

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Leaving The Web [Part 5 - Finale] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Summary: The situation has escalated to a critical point. You and Venom have grown tired of Miguel's meddling and are prepared to confront him decisively. A confrontation ensues between Venom and Miguel, but the question remains: can the symbiote control its murderous impulses, or will it result in the loss of the Spider-Society's leader?

The Leader of the Spider-Society was taken aback by the thunderous footsteps approaching him. Two massive arms, locked together, were raised high in the air with a menacing snarl. The arms came crashing down at an alarming speed, causing Miguel to swiftly dodge out of the way. The impact of the components caused the concrete roof to crack, but it did not break. Miguel was then faced with Venom, who let out a loud roar before pursuing him with his claws locked in position. Miguel managed to escape by jumping off the building and swinging away using his red webs. Venom followed closely behind, utilizing his black webs to keep up.

"Be careful, V, I have a feeling that Miguel is going to try to lead us o the Portal where he came from." [Name] said from the depths of Venom's mind.

"We know, we're counting on it. We have a plan in case he brings us there and we hope he leads us to where he comes from. Hopefully, there's an audience of Spider-People, watching their leader get beaten by the beings he abandoned." Venom told [Name] with a smile, causing his host to smile at the thought of beating Miguel in front of his people, showing them not to approach herself or Venom.

Miguel swung until he reached the top of another building - where a portal to Earth-928 was waiting - soon enough Venom arrived at the top of the building and glared at Miguel with a smile on his face; that smile scared Miguel but he wasn't going to show it.

"Venom, this is your last chance - come with me peacefully or I will take you and [Name] back home by force." Miguel threatened but Venom started laughing with his long tongue waving around like a whip before it slithered back into his mouth and he spoke.

"You really think you can scare us? We have been alone for the longest time, Miguel, and now we have a home here; the fact you can't understand how much damage you have done to us shows how pathetic of a Father you really are. This is your last chance - leave our universe and never come back...or we shall break you and throw you back in that portal." Venom warned as he pointed at Miguel who shook his head and started running at the large symbiote and jumped to kick Venom in his face, but he grabbed Miguel's leg and started smashing him into the ground over and over again before throwing him off of the roof and chased after him.

Miguel lifted his hand to shoot a web but the air in his lungs was knocked out when Venom's Feet plowed into his stomach, ending the 2 of them crashing into the ground, Venom stomped on Miguel before he jumped off him and landed in a crouch. Miguel groaned as he turned on his stomach and pushed himself off the ground before weakly standing and looking at Venom, who rose to his full height once again; Miguel wiped the blood leaking from his mouth as he looked at the large creature.

"Mija...please...don't let Venom control you..." Miguel tired but his pleads were met with a punch to his stomach and another to his face that sent him flying into a cafe window, causing the people who shriek in horror as Miguel crashed into the wall behind the counter. Miguel tried to move but a black web connected with his chest and yanked him out of the wall, out of the building, and back onto the street before he was punched upward; Miguel went flying until he landed on the surface of a flat roof, groaning in pain as rips in his suit tried to reform themselves but there was a malfunction in his suit that prevented them from closing - his mask faded once again and he coughed up blood once again as Venom jumped up to the top and grabbed Miguel from behind and lifted him off the ground, forcing him to face him.

"[Name]... Mija... Please, come back to me..." Miguel said in his weak voice as he lifted his hand to try and touch Venom's face but the face of Venom moved away from his touch and revealed [Name's] angered face. "Mija... Please...come home."

"How long is it going to take before it sinks in? We. Am. HOME! Venom and I belong here and I won't let you take us away from the home we have built with the people who care for us - people who love us; sure I love and miss the others but I love being here more with Venom. Now, your body can barely move, your suit is destroyed and I will send you back home but the next time you come here; your brain will end up in our stomach." [Name] said as the mask reformed on [Name's] Face to the Face of Venom as the massive symbiote jumped from building to build until they reached the top of the building where the portal was, Venom looked at Miguel's broken body before tossing him in the portal, causing the portal to close behind Miguel. Venom exhaled and returned control to [Name], causing his body to get smaller to Spider-Woman's Body.

"You okay, V?" [Name] asked.

"I should be asking you that. You went through a lot before You and Me became We but now that we are the way we are and we shared memories. [Name], I am grateful for what you said, thank you, my friend." Venom said.

"You're my best friend, V, thanks for dealing with Miguel. I really needed that." [Name] said as she walked over to the edge of the building and swung away, "So, what do you want to have for dinner tonight?"

"I'll let you pick," Venom said.

"Then I want baked chicken and salad." [Name] smirked.

"NO SALAD! I HATE THAT!" Venom said.

"We need to keep the body healthy; we'll have chocolate for dessert." [Name] said.

"Fine!" Venom groaned.

With a chuckle, [Name] and Venom swung off into the sunset of their world, their universe, without Miguel O'Hara.

#spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #daughter reader #spider!reader #venom symbiote #female reader

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