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yandere-daydreams · 6 months

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Title: Sacrifical Bride.

Commissioned by the very lovely @yanmaresu.

Pairing: Yandere!Hades x Reader (Record of Ragnarök).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Forced Marriage, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, and Mentions of Kidnapping/Prolonged Captivity. Not Canon Complacent. I Have Never Met Canon But I Hear She's Very Nice.

The wedding was a solemn affair.

Not dull, because nothing that had your heart beating so violently could ever be considered ‘dull’, and not dreary, because despite the many, many things you could say about your kidnapper-turned-husband, he wasn’t one for bland affairs. No, your dress was of the finest and most vibrant silks, your veil lined with pearls and rubies and the gown’s train long enough to swell and ebb behind you as you walked down the seemingly never-ending aisle, unaccompanied by any escort. Wreaths of shining ivory lilies and blooming chrysanthemums encircled marble pillars, low-burning lanterns casting the chapel in long, wavering shadows. The pews were empty. The only guests were his ghastly servants, and they’d never once said a word to you.

There was no officiant. Hades waited for you at the brimstone altar alone, a gentle simper playing over his lips as he watched you drag your feet and fight the urge to bolt, to run, to do the very thing that’d left you trapped in his arm in the first place. It was tempting, albeit pointless. You’d always been swift footed, but there was nowhere to escape to in Helheim. At best, you’d spend a few days hiding and struggling to survive in the empty plains that surrounded his looming fortress of a home. At worst, you’d find yourself without direction and beyond the reach of his control, hopelessly lost and stumbling through fields of fading dead and gnarled beasts and things that would make the man in front of you look hospitable, in comparison. You tried to remind yourself of that as your body begged you to flee.

As you reached the altar, his smile grew into something that could’ve been convincingly genuine, had it been able to reach the pits of lifeless ice that were his eyes. Rather, the gesture only seemed to add to the coil of dread growing tighter in the pit of your stomach as you stepped beside him, clutching your bouquet to your chest in a white-knuckled grip. He’d let you pick that out yourself, at least, and you’d taken a truly irrational amount of joy in picking wildflowers and trimming roses and breaking every rule of decorum your mother had ever taught you. Now, though, the shadows of his hall seemed to dull your vision-searing colors, and it was difficult to take joy in such a simple pleasure knowing the man in front of you sought to ensure you’d never braid daisies or sleep beneath open skies again, when he was staring you down like yet another precious gem he planned to add to his ever-growing collection. It was a cruel comparison, but not quite as hyperbolic as you would’ve liked.

There was a shallow sigh, a hand brought to the edge of your veil. He toyed with the fabric for a long moment before taking the hem in both hands and pulling it away from your face. If he recognized the terror stitched into your expression, he only deemed it worth a slight shake of his head. “Oh, beloved.” His hand fell to your cheek. “You’re as radiant as the day we met.”

The day he plucked you from your mortal life and dragged you into the depths of the earth, the day he’d forced the awful seeds of that terrible fruit down your throat and promised you would never see another living soul again. You swallowed back your nerves. “Please, don’t draw this out.”

You were lucky you’d fallen into the hands of such a mild-tempered captor. He let out an airy chuckle, turning back to the altar. It was decorated sparsely; an overflowing cornucopia posed in one corner, a standing thurible slowly releasing nauseatingly sweet incense into the stagnant air sitting in the other. Between them was only a bottle of dark wine and two twin chalices, crafted of only the finest bronze and polished until they shined in the low lighting. He filled both to the brim before looking towards you, a glint in his remaining eye as he took a chalice in either hand.

You’d been wrong when you assumed they were identical. Where one had a line of aimless, curling thorns following the rim and plunging down the length of the handle, the other was embellished with roses, abstract and nearly shapeless, forming neat columns across the body of the cup. He extended the latter to you, its contents threatening to spill as you took it in your trembling hands. You’d managed to talk him out of the more elaborate ceremonies he’d suggested, but it was difficult to remember that this was a preferable alternative now that could feel the chill of his wine seeping into your palms.

You brought it to your lips, held it there for a moment, then pulled back at the hint of a more familiar scent than that of his dizzying incense. “Pomegranates?”

“I thought it would be a nice touch.” For him, maybe. He’d always struggled to see things from your perspective. “Forgive my sentimentality.”

You wouldn’t, but you were smart enough to keep that to yourself. When he raised his chalice, you did the same, mirroring him when your own will failed you. “To us, darling.”

You nodded. “To us.”

He took a long sip from his chalice, seeming to savor the rich wine, while you drained yours in a single breath. Try as you might to enjoy it, you could only seem to taste ash.

A few vows were exchanged, a kiss pressed into the back of your hand when you flinched away from his attempt to communicate his affection more directly. Finally, he took your arm and guided you back to your shared chambers, lingering in the doorway while you collapsed onto his bed – your marital bed, now, you supposed. You buried your face in the silken sheets, letting out a soft groan. There would be a celebration later on, a feast with all of his many gloating brothers and prying sisters in attendance, but the worst of it was over. You were bound to him, for better or for worse. All you could do was weather the consequences.

You’d hoped he would be kind enough to leave you alone while you consoled yourself, while you took all that you knew and all that you didn’t and recontextualized it with yourself as the mortal bride to the God of Death, but a hand on your shoulder dispelled that fleeting fantasy. With no small amount of reluctance, you pushed yourself upward and turned your attention back to Hades. This time, without the pretense of custom, he didn’t settle for your hand. His mouth found its way to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into his chosen targets.

When he started to move towards the curve of your throat, you moved on instinct – your hands finding their way to his hair as you dragged him away from you before he could do anything you wouldn’t be able to forget as soon as he left the room. “Please,” you said, not for the first time that day. “I… I’d rather be alone, right now. If it’s all the same to you.”

His smile didn’t waver. “You know that, if it were up to me, I would bend to your every whim,” he spaced the words out generously, as if worried your feeble human mind might not be able to understand. “But we aren’t done.”

Your expression fell. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I wore the dress, and—and I took your vows, and—”

“My love,” he cut you off swiftly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Our union will have to be consummated, eventually.”

You felt your throat begin to swell shut.

“I know that, but—” You laid your hand over his, trying to call upon whatever pale imitation of sympathy might’ve existed in his heart. “—does it have to be consummated now?”

You watched as his gaze softened, as his head lulled to the side in that endeared-yet-condescending manner he seemed so fond of. Slowly, with a painstaking gentleness, he brought you closer to him, ghosting over the top of your head and lingering there, even as he started to speak. “I think,” he started, his voice muffled by proximity. “that it would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting any longer.”

It wasn’t a threat, but it was posed like one, dredged up from somewhere deep in his chest and accompanied by his hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping underneath the sash binding your gown together. When you jerked back, reflexively trying to escape his advances, he was quick to chase you, to let his softened smile spread into an amused grin as an arm wrapped around your midriff and dragged you, willingly or otherwise, into his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet, your safety didn’t seem to cross his mind as his blunt nails bit into your waist, as he dragged you close enough to feel his chest press into yours, to become uncomfortably aware of the stiff outline against the loose fabric of his pants. “If I rely on my own self-restraint for another day—” Another kiss, this one to the tender patch of skin above your jugular vein. “I’m afraid I might end up doing something we both regret, when the time comes.”

“Less than a day,” you pleaded as he buried his face in your neck. There was a blur of movement, the ghost of his touch along the curve of your spine, and your bodice fell away in tatters, the ruined fabric collapsing to your waist. When you moved to cover yourself, Hades clicked his tongue and you froze, letting your arms fall back to your sides. Begging him to change his mind was one thing. Going against him so transparently would only make things more difficult. “Half a day. An hour. I just— Hades, I can’t do this right now—”

“My love.” Swift, blunt, merciless. You’d been a fool to ever think he was one of the kinder gods. “I think I’ve waited long enough to claim what belongs to me.”

Any protest you might’ve had died in your throat.

You’d been a fool to ever think he was anything less than the cruelest of his kin.

You wanted to scream. If you couldn’t run, then you would yell, raise your voice and tell him that he already had you, that he’d gotten everything he could’ve possibly wanted, but anything you might’ve said was torn away and ripped to shreds as his head dipped low, his teeth latching onto the vulnerable skin of you collar bone and sinking in. He didn’t draw blood, but he didn’t have to. A bolt of pure, stinging agony shot from your chest to your core, only dulling as he pulled away with a low groan. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the sound of my name on your tongue?” You felt his hand on your hip, then your thigh, the remains of your dress cut through and disposed of with little fanfare. He gave your bridal lingerie (pure white and so obnoxiously lacy, you’d had to wonder if this was all some sadistic joke as you slipped it on) more attention, his thumb running along the delicate trim before his fingers slipped underneath it, tracing the length of your slit before doing away with the barrier altogether.

Dread and panic dulled your reactions, but it would’ve been a lie to say the feeling of his mouth on your skin had left you completely unaffected. He chuckled as he gathered your slick on his fingertips, two of which were soon pressed into your clit with a brutal sort of precision. “And you tried to play coy.” He teased the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, the patterns he traced into your clit too slow and too fleeting all at once. You wished he wouldn’t touch you at all, but if he was going to, it was the least he could’ve done not to draw it out. “That must’ve been why you seemed so rushed during our ceremony. If you’d asked me to make love to you on that altar, I happily would have.”

Hot, humiliated tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You attempted to deny it, but a cracked moan slipped past your lips instead as two of his fingers were forced into your cunt and spread, splitting you apart. Your hands shot to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself, but he only saw your desperation as an invitation – bowing his head and pumping his fingers into you at the kind of languid pace that left you fighting not to rock against him, not to make up for the urgency immortal creatures so often lacked. “You’re a vice,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his tone low and lecherous. You wondered, briefly, if words that fell from the lips of a god could be considered sinful. “To think my own wife would’ve had me neglect her so severely for so long.”

You shook your head. You were married to him, sure, bound to him. But you couldn’t afford to think of yourself as his wife. You couldn’t afford to think of yourself as something so limited, something so purely an extension of him. “I’m not—”

“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can see that I underestimated just how much attention my little mortal would need.” His wrist quirked, another digit pushing past your entrance and stuffing your pussy full as his fingers curled and ground inside of you. Against your will, you felt a tight heat begin to twist and writhe in the pit of your stomach, pangs of burning pleasure coursing from your cunt to your core. Now, you cried unabashedly, embarrassment and shame burning in your cheeks and fueling the unsteady stream of tears that Hades was so agonizingly quick to coo over, to kiss away as your hips bucked unsteadily against his hand. “What a sensitive wife I have.” That word – that awful word – was enough to earn a ragged sob, but if he recognized the connection, he didn’t deem it worth his concern. “I promise, you’ll never feel so unloved in my care again.”

You would’ve given anything to be able to pull away from him, to be able to shove at his chest and swear to all the gods you’d once worshiped that there was no part of you that could ever feel loved with him, but in the end, he was the one to let you go, to throw you onto the center of his great bed and leave you whining involuntarily at the sudden loss of stimulation. He’d never been one to deprive you, though; in a moment, he was in between your open legs, one hand wrapped loosely around your thigh while the other pulled feverishly at his own clothes. His coat fell away first, then his shirt. You heard fabric shift and metal clink and, in a daze, saw him wrap his fist around something he could not have possibly planned to fit inside of you. Half out of terror and half out of instinct, your gaze flickered from his cock to his face – to the wide, fanged grin he’d been wearing for as long as you could remember.

He moved to kiss you, and you drove your heel into his stomach.

The blow would’ve been weak by human standards, but it caught him off-guard. Out of reflex, he reeled back, and you took the opportunity to scramble off his bed and towards the door, to any part of this forsaken place where Hades wasn’t. You made it a step, maybe two before something caught your shoulder, before your body buckled under a weight greater than your own. You were dragged onto your knees before you could so much as think to slip away from him, your cheek forced against the cool marble of the floor before you could hope to make your descent more dignified. You felt his broad chest press into your back, his snarling lips against the curve of your throat. You wondered if the insult would be great enough to warrant taking your life, but the thought was dismissed quickly.

Hades had never been the kind of god capable of showing such mercy.

“I would’ve made love to you like a queen,” he spat, his tone all manic venom and overdue obsession. “But, if you’d rather be fucked on the ground like a whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You weren’t allowed the luxury of bracing yourself, this time. In one brutal movement, he thrust into you, splitting you open on his cock with the kind of harsh, unforgiving force better suited to a wild animal. There was no time to adjust, no time to sob, only Hades groaning against your neck as he bucked against you, never daring to pull out completely. Whatever agony his fingers had sparked was now ten-fold. Your legs shook, your body threatening to collapse entirely, but Hades kept your ass raised and your thighs spread, his focus entirely on bucking into you as deeply and as roughly as he could.

It almost surprised you when one of his hands shot to your head, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he forced his mouth against yours. You tried not to cooperate, but two fingers pressed into your clit and your mouth fell open in a guttural cry, providing an opening he seemed content to take advantage of. It was a deep, lingering, messything – all tongue and teeth – but his cock ground against something soft and vulnerable and you failed to suppress the wave of pure heat that flooded through your battered body as you clenched around him, as you came undone around the cock of your kidnapper, your captor, your husband. Hades wasn’t far behind, his composure shattering no more than a second after the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. You could only choke on your misery-tinged pleasure as his hips pressed into your ass and he came inside of you – his awful warmth soon tainting every fiber of your being.

You tried to tell yourself that, at the very least, it was over - that he’d had his fill of you and now, you’d be free to console yourself elsewhere, but your hopes were once again dashed when Hades failed to release you, failed to pull out of you, failed to do anything but press himself into your back and trail his lips idly down to the nape of your neck. “Once is a pitiful amount for a king. Don’t you agree?”

You felt his hips move back, then rock against you just as quickly.

“You can forgive me when we’re done, love.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok imagines #record of ragnarok x reader #hades x reader #yandere hades #yaanderecore #yancore

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dancing-crystals · 3 days

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The innkeeper and his wife, the coachman, they were expecting a middle-aged businessman, too arrogant to listen, too cynical to even believe the warnings are well-meant, too confident in his own science and religion to listen to anyone else. Someone with enough worldly experience that he might recognize Dracula as a threat even if he doesn't understand the nature of the threat. Someone important and well-connected enough that he's too risky to kill, old and dull enough not to be interesting enough to toy with.

It was a comfort, to know there was no way to save him. Another comfort, that he would be useful and boring enough to be spared, and canny enough to spot the danger.

Then Jonathon Harker shows up, young and earnest and innocent. He praises the food and asks for recipes for his young bride-to-be back home, and they can see in his face how in love he is. They see too his enthusiasm, his fascination. He blushes when he looks at the women and averts his eyes, he consults his phrase book so he can better give compliments.

He's young enough to be their son. Maybe the innkeeper has a child close to Jonathon's age--a son just starting his own life, a daughter a little younger peeking through the door and sighing at the handsome traveler. Or maybe their child would have been Jonathon's age, if only--but no, they must not think that.

But they do think it, and so the innkeeper's wife begs him to take the rosary "for your mother's sake" and it's not really Jonathon she's talking to. The innkeeper whispers to his friends and customers and old gossips, and they pass it to the passengers on the coach. The coachman is taken back too, the money the Count sent weighing heavily in his pocket. To refuse to drive him means death, to warn him is pointless.

Everyone on the couch is older than Jonathon, old enough to know what the devil in the castle does to the young and earnest and innocent. They all carry their own protections, and one by one they offer them to this poor fool who doesn't understand and wouldn't believe, but he's too polite to refuse and kind enough to see their concern and be touched by it.

The coachman drives his horses like he is fleeing from the devil instead of to him, and they all hope, pray, it will be enough.

#Dracula #jonathon harker #dracula daily

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dxstopiaa · 11 months

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hello! >u< how are you? if it's okay, may i request the sumeru men with a s/o who loooooves sitting on their lap? i hope you have a great day/night!

characters: alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari and dottore x gn! reader

warnings: sfw! may be suggestive! otherwise fluff [hii anon! i hope you are doing well too! i tried to post something even though it’s been a month, i’m so sorry <3]

alhaitham

“Haitham, can i sit on your lap again?”

“…You may.” The Acting Grand Sage looked down at you, who had unknowingly sat on the desk infront, eyes gleaming so enthusiastically it’d be a shame to deny you of what you so kindly requested.

If anyone didn’t know the scribe as personally as you did, they’d say he was a cold-hearted man with a thirst only knowledge could quench— that he was incapable of demonstrating love. He’d overheard such earlier, watching the two students indulging in some pointless (and incorrect, mind you) gossip.

He wasn’t one to care of other’s perception of him, but with you in his life and his lap, he had to show at least some regard for his reputation. Seems like all you cared about at the moment was adjusting against his chest so you could snuggle your face into the corner of his neck. Firmly muscular, but comfortable.

He smelt pleasant— hints of fresh citrus and old books radiated off of him like an aura. You suppose the scent of a person really said a lot about them. Al Haitham, that once bitterly cold man had been reduced like a squeezed lemon, sour at first but you’ve drained that attitude from him. As for the other, well, the books were self-explanatory. He was a needed comfort either way.

“Can you read to me too please?”

“You ask for too much, darling...”

kaveh

“Kaveh, you wouldn’t mind me sitting on your lap, right?”

The architect’s breath hitched, pencil hovering over the unfinished blueprint. Did he just hear you right? He sighed, wondering why he felt the need to express hesitance when you’re his beloved. That’s new, and awfully endearing too.

His lack of an answer left thoughts swarming your head within seconds. Did i make him uncomfortable? Why though? You’ve done much more intimate things with him than this. You spun around on your heel, a mediocre attempt at fleeing the flustering scene. The creak of a chair accompanied with a tight grasp of a hand around your wrist had settled you onto Kaveh’s thighs.

“Don’t run away, sweetheart, i was a little taken aback, that’s all.” Your boyfriend massaged circular motions into your tense shoulders, apprehensively stiff to the touch. You melted into his gentle ministrations, finally lowering yourself into his lap securely.

“Am i not bothering your soon to be due planning?” You quizzed, turning your head to glance at the messily organised desk, fragments of graphite smeared over it and numerous pencils scattered across the surface. A professional procrastinator is what he was, he never accepted such a name from your mouth, poorly persuading you to keep quiet so he could de-stress.

“I needed a break anyway, my love, just rest with me a little while longer.”

cyno

“I know you’re busy Cyno, but can i sit with you please?”

Such innocently vague phrasing truly disguised your intentions. When you said it like that, Cyno didn’t think much of it and simply agreed. That was until you positioned yourself comfortably on his lap, legs either side of his thighs.

He gasped softly— watching you loop your arms around his neck and snuggle your face into his chest. Bold behaviour like this wasn’t normal for you but he supposed this didn’t have any deeper meaning other than wanting to be close to him.

“Dear…you don’t have anything up your sleeve, do you?” Cyno quizzed, squinting slightly to search for any reaction from you. Your light giggle and the abrupt shaking of your head suggested you didn’t have any ulterior motives.

The general grinned briefly, setting down his report to embrace you with his arms and began to kiss your forehead delicately, leaning into his gentle touch as if you were a cat starved of attention.

“Why don’t i change that, darling?”

tighnari

“Nari, sitting on your lap won’t interfere with your work, yes?”

Your boyfriend froze, the abrupt request felt unfamiliar to fall from your tongue, yet he couldn’t find it within him to decline such an offer. He placed the pen down, turning so slightly as to not let you see the hint of rose over his face.

“Well, i suppose it wouldn’t.” The forest ranger mumbled, trying his hardest not to show a trace of embarrassment. So much for the composed, knowledgeable chief everyone knew. You, on the other hand, smiled cheekily, walking over to see what mess you’ve made.

Just as you were about to tease him, Tighnari seized your waist and spun you around to sit facing the other way. Of course, you facepalmed yourself mentally, how could you limit your lover’s sharp mind?

Tighnari was not about to let you make fun of him with your little tricks— like how you did numerous times before.

“Not so fast darling. I think i deserve an apology for that, physical or verbal, it’s up to you.”

dottore

“My husband, can i sit here with you?”

Dottore trailed his scarlet eyes over your torso, following your outstretched arm until he witnessed your own finger directed to his very lap. You… wanted to sit on him? How flatteringly bold of you. He shifted his legs to let you move in between, patting his situationally vacant legs.

“As you wish, my love, don’t keep me waiting.”Your lover chuckled as your sudden expression adapted into a more coy smile, whether this was from hesitance or excitement, he didn’t know. Your gentle hands reached for his shoulders, so lightly as if you were afraid.

His thighs were firm yet soft enough to rest your own on top, allowing the harbinger to run his fingers along your back whilst he admired the way in which you’d relax against him without a care in the world. He only mattered to you in this moment— the unexpectedly soft, caring husband no one knew of but yourself.

Dottore hasn’t meant to become so attached to the feeling of your thighs encasing him, now it was the only way he was fond of, with you right where you’re safe.

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thenightwolf51 · 9 months

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"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.

(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)

Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.

He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.

But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.

What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.

He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.

In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.

Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.

And he does.

He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.

He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.

Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.

The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.

And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.

Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.

Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.

Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.

And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.

(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)

#dpxdc #danny is a Wayne #danny is the wayne family protector spirit #duke can see ghosts #an alternative of this could be the same background but Danny decides to come in as the preCrisis “Uncle Philip” that initially raised Bruc #if so Agatha would definitely vouch for Danny #there's not much on Agatha Wayne but she seems fun

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natalievoncatte · 9 months

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“We don’t have a friendship, Supergirl.”

It took a moment for it to sink in. Lena stood before her, chin proud, staring her down with enough force to that Kara knew she wasn’t the most powerful woman in the world, no matter what they said. She wasn’t even the most powerful woman in this room.

Kara could push press an attack submarine. She could move between the ticks of a clock, perceive things so small and so fast they could barely be said to have happened at all. She’d bested foes that had humbled the Man of Steel. She’s outclassed even him.

Yet in this moment, she was all but powerless. There was nothing she could do with all her strength. All of this had been about weapons. Kryptonite. Lena needed neither to destroy Kara. She needed only cutting words.

“U-understood,” Kara mumbled.

She felt her shoulders draw in and sag, felt herself shrinking back into her own skin. Supergirl was banished instantly, and suddenly a defeated, frail Kara Danvers stood in her place, feeling silly in her cape and skirt. Her boots pinched her feet and everything was too tight. She could barely breathe.

“Ishouldgo,” she gasped out, fleeing, running, getting the hell away from here. She took the fastest available route until she was airborne, slipping the burly bonds of Earth.

The rush of pressure and the concussive wave built up around her skin and cut loose, releasing a rolling boom over National City. By the time Kara slowed and came to a hover, she was over the Pacific Ocean, calm blue seas stretching out in an endless expanse.

She relaxed, hanging impossibly above the clouds, absorbing pure sunlight.

Bitterly, she remembered when she’d tried to abandon Kara Danvers, not long ago. It had seemed that a life outside of Supergirl, outside of endless battles and self-sacrificing service, was pointless, and hurtful. Fitting in brought pain, forced her into a world that was all angles and wrong turns, lying to everyone around her and forbidden the simple concepts they all had. She was a stranger in a strange land, always seeking acceptance and understanding of peculiar customs, dogged by an incessant need.

It was one she barely admitted, but it was there, always there, just over her shoulder and ready to lead the assault when the walks came closing in.

Why her?

Out of all her people, her entire race, why was she the lone survivor? And she was, because while Kal was Kryptonian by birth, he had escaped Krypton. Kara had survived it.

Survival offered no escape.

For him, his birthright was a joy. Incredible powers, a sacred calling, a love of adventure and excitement. Kara could only imagine how wonderful it must have been for him when he discovered it all.

Oh, he mourned, or tried to. Kara bitterly indulged his laments for his lost world; a world he’d never walked, customs he’d never shared. His parents were a blessing to him, but to her they were her aunt an uncle, real people that Kara had lost.

Being Kara Danvers was difficult and painful. Being Supergirl was difficult and painful- now with the world killers, it seemed to Kara that Earth might have been better off had Krypton never noticed this yellow star or the beautiful blue world that orbited it.

Maybe Krypton was meant to end, and maybe Kara…

Maybe Kara…

Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. She’d ruined everything. Lena Luthor was kind, and good, and had spent weeks risking her life trying to help a friend, and what had Kara done? Made it about her. She’d wrapped everything around herself. She’s torn Lena’s relationship apart because she just could not believe that her best and most trusted friend wouldn’t hurt her.

It made sense when she was doing it. Was she not doomed? Had she not watched her world die? Kara had been a little girl one day and the next she was trapped in hell, her mother’s touch still felt on a tear-scored cheek.

Kara screamed. Red-sun fury exploded from her eyes, burning the sky itself. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair!

When the scream faded from her throat, leaving it ragged and dry, her eyes aching from the wild energy blast, she was still hanging in the air.

A terrible inevitability settled within her chest. She knew what she had to do, but she didn’t know if she had the strength. She could overcome any foe, break any barrier, reach any height. She was Supergirl. She could do anything.

“I have to take responsibility for what I’ve done,” Kara told the sky.

The sky didn’t answer her. She closes her eyes and absorbed Sol’s warmth. Sometimes, Kara really wished these stars were gods, that the golden light that gave her limitless power could give her answers, that Sol could be a nurturing mother, taking in a wanderer so far from Rao’s grace.

It wasn’t. It was a superheated ball of hydrogen undergoing nuclear fusion. There were no answers in the sky. There were none anywhere. She’s have to find them on her own.

Kara first went back to her apartment, resolving to do this right. She changed into one of her favorite outfits (Lena had once made a curious compliment about Kara’s biceps, the last time she’d worn it) and texted her best friend, asking to meet soon.

Lena, predictably, replied that she was busy.

Kara thought of Lena, not as Supergirl, but as herself. Lena toiling in that lab in desperation, not feeding herself

She was tempted to say that Supergirl told her about the lab and the situation and beg to be allowed to help, but there had to be a better way. An honest way.

I know you’re busy. I just want to make sure you get something to eat and you’re okay. Just a few minutes.

The reply came a moment later.

Oh, alright. You know I can’t say no to you.

Kara’s heart leapt and crumped at the same time. She let out a slow breath and decided to grab something on the way, something she could leave if Lena threw her out.

When she arrived, Lena had moved to her office. She was sitting behind her desk, and as much as she’d look remarkable out together earlier, she was showing her fatigue now. There were bags under her eyes and she’d changed into a loose sweatshirt, and Kara thought she might fall asleep on her desk.

When she looked at Kara, her face lit up with such admiration and affection that Kara’s heart could have burst in her chest. In the fading afternoon light, most like that of her lost star, Lena seemed impossibly beautiful and perfect, the sharp-tongued being of cold fury replaced by someone small and soft that Kara simply had to cup in her hands and protect and…

Oh.

Oh Rao.

FUCK.

Kara almost dropped the bag of donuts. She couldn’t do this. Not now. Not today. She couldn’t do this she couldn’t, she couldn’t lose… couldn’t lose…

Lena.

It was like seeing her for the first time. Kara sucked in a drawing breath and had to let it out very slowly, as a new and perilous understanding took root and changed everything.

“Do I look that bad?” Lena said, but there was no heat in it.

“You look beautiful,” Kara answered in a breathy voice, before she could stop herself.

Lena smirked. “You’re too nice. Are those donuts?”

Kara gently placed them on the desk, and she looked. Stared.

One of the gifts, and curses, of Kryptonian physiology was an eidetic memory. This moment would live in her mind and heart until the day she died, so she dragged it out for as long as she could, to keep it. To keep the sight of this woman who truly treasured Kara. Just Kara.

“Kara?” Lena said, confused and maybe a little scared.

“I have to tell you something,” said Kara.

“What is it?” said Lena, always so eager to help.

Kara’s hands balled into fists, arms trembling. The tears broke before she worked up the will to say it.

“Earlier today, you asked me why it’s so important to me that we be friends.”

Lena stared blankly for a too-short moment, and then her eyes went wide. She rocked back in her chair as if struck, then bolted out of it, rounding the desk. Kara stood still, unable to face her, and watched it all reflected in the desk.

“Look at me.”

Kara didn’t move.

“Look at me!”

Kara looked. With shaking hands, Lena grasped the frames of her glasses and pulled them free, setting them aside. Kara then flinched as Lena reached behind her, the gesture so much like an embrace, so curiously intimate that Kara’s own body betrayed her, her heart hammering in her chest.

Lena released Kara’s hair and it spilled in curls around her shoulders.

“Oh my God,” Lena whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Kara whimpered, the tears hot on her cheeks. “Lena, please, I’m sorry.”

“It was all a lie. You were lying to me the whole time.”

No, she wanted to scream, I never lied, I didn’t, you had no right to know, I was protecting you. A hundred futile excuses crashes through her mind and when they were gone only the truth remained.

“I was scared,” Kara choked out. “I was so scared and then I messed it up and I was even more scared and I just kept trying to fix it. I’m sorry.”

Lena was crying, too. The tears fell freely, though her expression remained still, calculating.

“I would do anything for you. I would die for you. I don’t know why I did what I did…”

“You pretended to be another fucking person and talked my boyfriend into spying on me while pretending to be my friend.”

“I wasn’t pretending,” Kara pleased. “I am your friend. You mean so much to me, more than I’ve ever told you and I was scared.”

“Of what?” said Lena. “That I’d make Kryptonite and kill you with it? Make weapons to kill you? I thought you really believed in me, Kara. I listened to your bullshit and I believed it and you were just fucking… you were… you bitch!”

Kara stood, transfixed, as Lena came apart in front of her.

“Why did you have to do this? Why did you have to tell me now? Why did you take my Kara away from me when I needed her most?”

Kara sucked in a shuddering breath and hugged herself.

“Because I deserve this. You deserve the truth and I deserve the consequences for what I’ve done. I did hurt you just like you said, and I thought I could just smooth it over and charm my way into fixing it, but I can’t. I’m a fuckup. I make things worse just by existing.”

Lena shuddered and formed her hands into fists. “Don’t you say that. Don’t you say that to me ever again.”

“This is my fault. I made this happen. I should have told you after you saved the world. The first time, with Medusa. If I trusted you, you could have come to me and we could have saved Sam together. You trusted me and I hurt you.”

“Are you going to ask for forgiveness? Is that where this is going?”

“No. I don’t deserve it.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Let me help you with Sam, and then I’ll leave you alone. I know I can’t come back from this. I can’t fix it. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Leave me alone?” Lena snapped, jabbing a finger into Kara’s chest. “What the fuck? You think you can just crash into my life like this and then just leave?”

“I… I…”

“How about this,” said Lena, stepping closer, her green eyes full of fury. “How about you ask me what I want instead of telling me?”

Kara swallowed.

“What do you want?”

Lena stepped back.

“I want to save my friend. I want Ruby to have her mom back. I want to fix the world. I need your help to do that, whether I want it or not.”

“And then?”

“And then…” said Lena. “Then I want to know why. I want to know why you did this to me and what the hell you really want, and then I’ll decide if there’s anything worth saving with you, or if I’m going to go back to Metropolis and rebuild my life.”

“That… that’s… I’ll help.”

“What do you want?”

Kara swallowed.

“I… I ummm…” Kara reached for glasses that were no longer there. “I want to try again. I want to be your friend again, as my whole self. There’s so much I could share with you.”

Lena swiped the tears away from her eyes, and stilled herself, regaining her control.

“I’ll be in the lab. I’ll call for you when I need you.”

Lena heard for the door, stopping at the threshold.

“Kara,” said Lena, without turning.

“Yeah?” Kara said, thickly.

“The night Edge was trying to set me up… the plane. Would you really have dropped the chemicals if I couldn’t make the jump?”

Kara took her glasses from the desks, turning them in her hands, and drew in a breath.

“Yes,” said Kara. “I’d have found a way to fix somehow, but if it was the only way, yes. I’d have let them fall, but I’d never let you fall. I said I’d always protect you, and that was the truth. I always will. No matter what.”

Lena hesitated at the door, then left without a word.

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cyberwhumper · 4 months

Text

Imran had already known, going in, that the conditions of the breeding facility where he now found himself standing would be less than ideal when compared to his old employer. He knew the smaller budget would reflect on the conditions the animals were kept, how the entire process was executed, and what the odds of the transaction working out were. Yet he is still shocked when the cages are small, cramped, filthy. His heart aches for each and every single one of the biopets kept within, but he knows he realistically can't possibly save them all.

Just one. Just the one. That would be enough.

With every step further into the facility, the mental image of Horus degrades in his mind. Guilt gnaws at the forefront of his conscience, and it comes crashing down heavily once he sees with his own eyes what had become of the once powerful animal he had met all those years ago.

Tied to the center of the tiny room, the creature barely had any slack to move. Its body is covered in a litany of sores and bruises, and the emaciated skin clings to bone like a tight-fitting suit. As soon as its gaze meets the handler's, a shrill noise leaves its mouth. Terror, it seems, was all that remained. The knot in Imran's stomach feels so tight it's nauseating.

He hopes to appease the animal despite the handler's amused comments over the pointlessness of the effort. Horus doesn't look at him. Doesn't even seem to recognize him. It pulls away from Imran as best as it can, tail pinned between its exhausted legs, tears streaming down its face, body shaking so hard it makes the chains holding it in place clink. Talking to it has no effect. Even touching it, an act that would have always promptly elicited a bite response, does nothing.

Imran barely remembers the rest of the transaction.

At some point money had exchanged hands, the biopet was sedated, and he now found himself clutching the battered creature tight to his body as if it could possibly flee. The walk back to his vehicle feels shameful.

What have I done? No. I couldn't possibly have known this would happen. But it only happened because of me, didn't it?

The device on the back of its skull has been removed. Vandermeer leaves no loose ends. Imran doesn't want to think of what the withdrawals must have been like for the animal to go through. Death would have been a kinder choice than this.

The disgraced doctor swallows his guilt, and gently lays the biopet on the backseat. The drive would be long, but the worst, he hoped, was already over.

I'm so sorry, Horus. I promise I'll take care of you this time.

[OC INDEX]

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness // @moss-tombstone // @lambofmine // @maracujatangerine // @pinkraindropsfell // @writereleaserepeat // @blood-and-regrets // @littlespacecastle // @snakebites-and-ink // @unforgiven235 // @lonesome--hunter // @atomicsandwichprince // @writereleaserepeat // @whatamidoingherehelpme // @skittles-the-whumpee // @the-blind-one-speaks // @i-eat-worlds // @devourerofcheesecake // @theauthorintraining // @otterfrost // @mommymarichatfurever // @whumpifi // @catnykit // @bitchaknso // @softmutt444 // @yet-another-heathen //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

#whumpuary2024 #whumpuaryno12 #Rescue #oc #art #whump #bruises #whump art #original character #pet whumpee #pet whump #original story #whumpblr #whumpee #tokimeki art #caretaker #bridal carry #Horus #Imran

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marlynnofmany · 1 month

Text

Secondhand Solutions

Mur gave me a smug look, curling and uncurling one tentacle like a yo-yo. “Told you it was a waste of credits,” he said.

I sighed. “If those human ships were here, it wouldn’t be. This stuff is prime Earth nostalgia.” The small pile of items on the hoversled had seemed so full of promise when I’d bought it at our last stop: cat posters, harmonicas, and a dozen packs of googly eyes.

“Pity we’re far from Earth,” Mur said.

“Yeah,” I agreed, eyeing the locals of this alien marketplace. Lots of scales and exoskeletons. Not many hands that would appreciate the softness of a cat’s fur, and very few mouthparts that would be able to do much with a harmonica. The merchant I’d gotten the stuff from had been a Heatseeker all too happy to unload her stock of cut-rate human nonsense. These folks would likely have similar opinions. I said, “At least it doesn’t expire.”

Mur straightened the individually-boxed harmonicas. “And it shouldn’t take up too much space in your quarters until we meet up with more humans eventually. The captain won’t want to hang around here waiting for them to show up.”

“True,” I admitted. It was gossip from our last stop that had told me they’d be here now. I should have known better than to trust it.

“Well, back to the ship,” Mur announced. “Maybe you can cheer yourself up by decorating your quarters with eyeballs.”

I had to smile at that. “Maybe.” He was already walking back to where we’d parked, on the far side of an over-cultivated garden area. I towed the hoversled after him.

Then I caught sight of some locals who’d run afoul of multiple birdlike beasties, and an idea started to form.

The locals, a half-dozen Heatseekers whose scales ranged from red to pale yellow, were trying to eat a nice lunch at the dining section of the garden. The squawking bird-things, which were half-lizardy with speckled brown feathers and wide beaks, had apparently claimed the bushes for their own. They were contesting this claim by spitting at the Heatseekers every time their backs were turned. These looked like pretty gross spitballs, impressive for birds.

It occurred to me that I’d seen those feathery characters all over the place here. A look behind confirmed it; they lurked in nearly every tree I could see. And judging by the way the locals were abandoning this picnic table, they were a known hazard.

They still only spat at fleeing enemies, hiding or freezing in place when pinned by eye contact.

And that was my idea. “Hey Mur,” I said. “I’ll bet you one shanty sung on a table that I can sell some of these googly eyes right now.”

He stopped and looked around, full of skepticism. “To who?”

“Do you take the bet?”

“Ah, sure. There’s no way anyone here is interested.”

“You say that now,” I said, grabbing a pack and waving down one of the hurrying locals. “But you don’t know how we deal with tigers and magpies.”

“With what?”

I didn’t answer, busy as I was explaining to the local that the false eyes were adhesive, and would give the impression of eye contact from both directions. They were just as interested as I’d thought they’d be.

After a demonstration, during which I strolled through the picnic area and didn’t get a single spitball on me, the birds were unsettled and the locals were more than happy to buy everything I had.

This was a new colony town, you see, and no one had come up with a good solution for the annoying fauna that came with the territory. But these folks were prepared to make everyone’s day.

They certainly made mine. That was five times as much as I’d paid for the stuff in the first place. And they didn’t even want the posters and harmonicas.

I waved goodbye, but they weren’t paying attention, so I turned my grin on Mur instead. He had draped a tentacle around his pointy squid head in exasperation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken the bet,” he declared. “But I was so sure it was pointless.”

“And I am sure that whichever song you choose to regale us with at dinnertime will be delightful,” I said, tugging the hovercart around the bushes. The birds watched me carefully, noting the eyes still stuck to my hair, and leaving us both alone. “If it’s a song I know, maybe I can play a backup melody with a harmonica.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#my writing #this one's relatively short so I'm going without the read-more #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #googly eyes #I do enjoy some good be-googling #just made up that word; like bedazzled #it may not catch on #but that's okay #I'm still having fun

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phthalomushroom · 3 months

Text

The Family (3)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

word count: 3.3k

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, mentions of shooting, alys rivers, Italians, drunk aemond??

notes: this felt rushed but it is also long - sorry about that, idk what happened I've been super busy!!!

You hadn’t spoken to Baela the entire way home.

To say you were more than pissed was an understatement. You couldn’t tell if you were more mad at the situation or at your best friend for keeping such monumental information from you. You stormed into your apartment with a plan to shut yourself in your room for the night when Baela stopped you.

“I was told not to tell you.”

You whipped around. “What?”

“Aemond… wanted to be the one to tell you.”

“And how would he have told me?” You had blocked his number and his social media when you left the city, fully shutting him out of your life. She gave a weak smile.“He didn’t say.”

You crossed your arms.

Baela let out a long breath. “Listen, even if Aemond didn’t ask me not to say anything, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“You're my best friend Baela, I should have been told. What kind of friend are you?”

“One that remembers how fucking destroyed you were when you two broke up. One that remembers you leaving the city, fleeing from everyone all because of a fucking guy.”

“Which is why I should have known!”

“Why!” Her voice rose. “So you can run again?”

“I wasn’t running!”

“Then what the fuck were you doing?”

Escaping.

But you couldn’t say that. You couldn’t say that because it would make everything that happened that night too real. It would make everything and everyone you had shut out all these years pointless.

“I couldn’t deal with another 10 hour train ride,” Baela said after a minute of your silence. “Clearly there is still something you have towards Aemond.”

“Baela-”

“Whether it’s feelings or unresolved shit, I don’t know. Just… maybe seeing him, talking to him, will help you.”

She moved past you to go towards her room. She stopped with her hand on the door. “I’m sorry for the part I played in this, but Aemond asked and-”

“You couldn’t say no.”

She frowned, opening the door to step into her room. “He’s the head of the family now since Otto is in jail. You know whatever is asked goes.”

Your heart dropped.

Aemond was head of the family?

********

You had an awful night's sleep. You tossed and turned, thinking about what Baela had said.

Aemond was head of the house, he now ran the family which meant he called all the shots. He finally achieved what he had wanted all those years ago, but how he got there is what plagued you.

Your clock was nearing eight in the morning when your phone chimed. You looked at it seeing a message from an unsaved number, your heart sank as you read the screen.

Heard you're back in town, we need to catch up. - A

The fucking bastard.

You had half a mind to tell him how caught up you were when you decided against it. You threw your phone on your bed and began getting ready for the day, making your way to the kitchen. You saw a note on the table from Baela, apologizing for last night and how she wanted to talk it over more when she got back from the dinner tonight.

You crumbled the note throwing it in the trash. You had already forgiven her in all honesty, you couldn’t be mad at her for long. Besides you were being too harsh on Baela, after all you hadn’t told her anything from that night. She only knew that you and Aemond weren’t together anymore and that you needed to leave right away. In the end you were taking a lot of your frustrations out on her rather than the real person causing it. But to redirect those feelings meant that you would need to talk to Aemond and that wasn’t going to happen.

Not anytime soon anyway.

You sent Baela a quick text telling her all is forgiven and that you would see her when she got back from the celebration dinner.

You rummaged through the cabinets trying to find anything to eat but it seems like you’d need to do a grocery run. Thankfully you didn’t start full time at work till next week, your employer understood that you needed to settle into your “new” home.

At least that's what you had hinted at when they asked when you could start.

You put your shoes on and headed out of the apartment, going to the cafe that was a block away from where you lived. From what you remembered this place had the best chocolate croissants and made the best drinks you’ve ever had.

You had just put in your order, sitting at one of the corner tables, scrolling through your phone as you waited for your name to be called, when the chair across from you screeched.

You looked up meeting the delightful green eyes of Alicent Hightower.

You nearly choked on your spit.

She smiled cheerily at you. “I heard you were in town.”

You smiled back, putting your phone in your bag. “I just got in yesterday, I was gonna call but-”

She held her hand up. “Best not to, there are prying eyes and listening ears all around that house I swear.”

You laughed. Alicent Hightower had been like a mother to you when your own mother left. When you had come crying to Aemond freshman year when your family was falling apart, Alicent was the one who wrapped her arms around you and let you stay in the house until you were ready to go back.

You still remember her rage when you had told her about the note your mother left.

She truly was one of the things you missed about the Targaryen family.

“What are you doing on this side of the city?” Alicent, along with most of her family lived in an estate on the East side of the city that overlooked the canal.

“You know this side makes the best pastries.” She gestured to the boxes by her feet.

“Georginos is pretty stellar.”

She grinned, reaching across the table to give your hands a squeeze. “And how are you doing?”

You put on a convincing smile. “Great, no problems yet.”

She nodded. “Good to hear. After what Aemond told me, I’m surprised you decided to stick around here.”

Your heart dropped. “What?”

“The rats, dear. I don’t know how you and Baela are able to live in an apartment with rats in it.”

You swallowed your confusion. “A lot of traps.”

“Aemond said he’s heading over later to talk with the exterminator, I’m confident he’ll take care of you.”

You nodded along. “Yup!”

She squeezed your hands again. “I’m so happy that you and him could remain friends all these years, I mean I had half a mind to drag him to Winterfell and make nice.”

You nodded along, hoping your face didn’t show the confusion and anger you felt.

“Anyway, what is your number? I've missed our chats.”

You hastily reached into your bag, wanting the uncomfortableness of this conversation to end. You pulled your phone out and along with it, the invite from Alys.

Alicent’s eyes widened, upon seeing the crumpled invitation. She looked up at you smiling. “I was hoping Aemond would take my advice on inviting you.”

You gave a half hearted laugh, shoving the invite back into your bag.

Could this get any worse?

“So I take it I'll be seeing you tonight then.” She stooped to pick up the pastry boxes.

Come fucking on.

“I actually wasn’t planning on attending.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

You stumbled over your words. “I’m Aemond’s ex.”

“But you're part of the family.”

“It wouldn’t look good if I came.”

“And why not? You and Aemond are still best friends, it would be absurd for you not to be there.”

“I just don’t think Alys-”

Alicent snorted. “Screw what Alys thinks, I’m the one paying for the whole damn charade. I might as well get a say in who gets to come.”

Just then your order got called. She grinned pushing in her chair. “Till tonight, dear.”

You watched her walk out, at a loss for words frozen in your seat.

What the fuck just happened?

********

You had managed to fill Baela in on the phone of what happened in the cafe. Telling her about Aemond’s lies to his mother and the insistence of Alicent that you attended the dinner. Baela was able to stop by after work so that you two could walk in together.

You had just managed to find a dress in the back of your closet that would work for the formal occasion, your boxes from Winterfell still hadn’t come yet, to your dismay. The dress was slick black that had a perfect neckline that accentuated your boobs and yet didn’t do too much to make it seem like you were trying. Baela had described it as ‘tasteful sexy.’When you were looking in the mirror you couldn’t remember for the life of you where you had gotten it but didn’t care as you quickly left for the event.

You were already late and you didn’t want to have to spend anymore than an hour at the dinner. Luckily it was at Federicos, the whole place having been shut down for the special event.

The restaurant came into view as you walked up the street, you could see Jace, Luce, and Rhaena all standing outside waiting.

“You ready?” Baela asked. “We can bail out now, Luce can vomit on cue.”

“Tempting but gross,” You responded. You let out a long breath fidgeting with your handbag. “If I don’t show up Alys will be smug, and Alicent will hunt me down.”

“You don’t say no to the family.” She squeezed your hand.

You approached your friends, plastering on a smile that you knew you’d have on all night.

Rhaena hugged you first. “Finally, I’ve been trying to get Baela to let me come over to see you.”

“Yeah, it's been a crazy first day back.”

“Are you ready to go in?” Jace asked.

“Of course, I’ve been wanting those garlic knots since we left last night.”

You hated faking it for them. You’d rather leave, you’d rather not be here. But maybe this was a fateful way of telling you to face your shit head on. So you took a deep breath as everyone filed inside, squared your shoulders and knew that you would get drunk as shit after this.

For now you picked up a cocktail from the bar with the others and sipped carefully, you needed a clear head for the night. You already spotted Alys making her rounds around the room, but hadn’t noticed Aemond among the crowd. You looked around again seeing Alicent sitting at the corner booth, nursing a glass of wine.

“I’m gonna go make an appearance with Alicent,” you told Baela.

You snaked your way through the crowd, all mostly being people from Alys’s side with a few Targaryens and Hightowers mixed in. A part of you wondered why more of the family hadn’t come but those thoughts were put on the back burner when you took the seat across from Alicent.

She smiled. “Glad you could make it, love.”

“Glad to have been invited.

She waved you off. “Of course.”

“This place looks amazing, Alys really outdid herself.” You looked around at the black and white monochrome decorations that were dispersed around the restaurant.

“It’s tacky,” she frowned. “And dull.”

You chuckled. “You are just as blunt as I remember you.”

She lifted her glass. “Always.”

Her eyes drifted over your shoulder just as you heard a voice say your name. You turned to see a wide eyed Aemond Targaryen standing in all black with an empty whisky glass in his hand and a beer in the other. His hair that was cut short the last time you saw him had grown out and was now tied in a bun at the nape of his neck. He was as handsome as ever and the skip your heart did told you everything you needed to know.

You needed to be strong and you needed to be cold.

You swallowed the panic that rose and instead raised your glass to him. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

That seemed to knock him out of his stupor as he gave you an easy smile.

You heard Alicent get up from her seat, rounding to her son. “I can take this to the bar, you two should catch up.”

Aemond let her move past him, taking the empty glass from his hand before he slid into the seat opposite of you. He leaned back like he didn’t have a care in the world, his eyes glazed. “You never answered my text.”

“What text?” You took a sip of your drink.

He smirked, taking a sip of his beer. “You never were a good liar.”

“I blocked your number.”

“I got another number.”

You shook your head, he was still insufferable it seemed. “Seems like a lot of trouble to contact an ex.”

“You’re worth it.”

“You're engaged.” You weren’t going to let him win this.

He leaned forward putting his forearms on the table as he set the beer down. The veins of his forearms strained slightly. “I was going to tell you when we met up.”

“And how would we have done that?”

“Well if you were going to continue ignoring me it was going to be more of an “accidental” meeting. I think that would have been charming.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re insane.”

“And you are still as beautiful as the day I first saw you.”

“I wonder how Alys would feel about that comment.”

“Alys isn’t here,” he slurred.

Now that pissed you off. Yes, you hated Alys Rivers but like hell were you going to be treated like some mistress. “You're an asshole, you know that?”

He shrugged, leaning back as he took a swig of his beet. “I don’t understand how I can be the asshole when you're the one wearing a dress that I bought you. That is just insulting to my soon to be bride.”

Your stomach turned. That’s where you knew the dress from. Aemond had gotten it for you on your last anniversary. But if he was going to be an asshole about it, so could you. Strong and cold, that’s what you needed to be.

You shrugged like he did. “A lot of men have bought me a lot of things over the years, I must have just forgotten.”

Something flickered in his eyes at that, like a fire had suddenly been lit. “You’re lying.”

“Kinda like how you're lying to your mom about us.”

His face blanched, clearly taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re best friends? You’re helping with the rats in my apartment?”

He regained his composure quicker than you thought. “We are best friends and I did help with the rats.”

“That was the first week we moved in and it was one.”

He waved his hand. “Semantics.”

“We haven’t talked in years and from what your mother tells me it’s like we talk everyday.”

He leaned on the table again“What are you doing here, (y/n).”

“I was invited by your beautiful fiancee and your mother.”

“No, what are you really doing here?”

You ground your teeth. “Your mother invited me. You don’t say no to the family.”

“Except you.”

“What?”

“Everyone else can’t say no but you.”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You were always the exception, (y/n). Then, now, always.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“I know that if you really didn’t want to come here you wouldn’t have, rules be damned. So why did you really show up here in a dress I bought you for our anniversary?”

You hadn’t realized it but during your exchanging of words his hands and yours had moved closer, your fingertips just touching.

Just then Alys came around the table sitting on Aemond’s lap, he pulled his hands away snaking them around her waist. “We’re doing toasts soon, honey.”

His eye drifted to you, before he looked at Alys. “I’ll be there in a minute, just need to finish this conversation.”

Alys suddenly looked at you, her eyebrows shooting up as she tried to look surprised. “Oh, you came! I gotta say I didn’t think you’d show.”

You looked at Aemond then. “I’m just here for the celebration.”

She smirked. “Well I hope your gift is nice, gods know enough of these people only gave us cash.”

She stood up then, leaning down and giving Aemond a long kiss. You looked at your now empty glass.

He pulled away first, giving her a weak smile before she darted off back in the crowd. He folded his arms over his chest. “Celebrating Alys and I’s engagement? Seems very mature of you.”

You scoffed. “And how would you like me to react Aemond? Smash all the glasses, destroy the present table, burn the whole place to the ground?

It was his turn to scoff. “Well at least it would be a reaction, instead of this cold whatever.”

“I have been nothing but polite since we started talking.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“Then what are you talking about, Aemond?”

He leaned forward. “You’re shutting me out, putting walls up, being cold.”

“And what’s the problem with that? You were the one who told me to leave, Aemond. Then I come back and you’re trying to act like we’re friends. I don’t know you.”

“You’ll always know me, just like I will always know you.”

“Then how come I look at you and I don’t recognize you.”

“Maybe you don’t want to recognize me.”

“Don’t do that.”

He smirked. “Do what?”

You gestured to him. “Those stupid fucking games - answering my questions with questions, giving stupid fucking philosophical answers.”

He crossed his arms. “And why is that?”

You huffed. “You’re a prick.”

He shrugged. “At least I got some reaction out of you instead of that ice princess bullshit.” His voice went high pitched as he mocked you- “congratulations are in order, beautiful fiancee.”

“Is being nice a crime now in your family?

“No but being a liar and a coward is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Get a grip, Aemond.”

“What’s the real reason you came tonight?”

“I was invited by Alys and your mother, you know how they both can be.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “I think you came here because you were curious, you couldn’t stay away.”

You wanted to laugh. This was such bullshit, what even was happening right now. Was he mad at you cause you weren’t mad?

“Admit it.” He scooted closer.“I think you wanted to be here tonight to see for yourself if you could get me back.” He was leaning across the table now, his eyes flitting between yours. His voice dropped. “The ring was always yours, she’s just keeping it warm for ya darling.”

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He was clearly drunk and now he was being cruel. When you knew him he would never have let himself get to this level of intoxicated and he certainly would never have been so mean to you.

What the fuck happened when you left?

You shook your head, looking away from him.“I’m not here for you, Aemond.”

He arched his brow. “Then why’d you come?”

“To see for myself that everything we had was a lie.”

He leaned back, shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”

“Seeing you tonight like this, with her, I understand now that it wasn’t love we had but convenience.” You started getting up. “I hope you two are very happy together.”

He stared wide eyed, watching as you began pushing through the crowd. “Wait.”

“Goodbye, Aemond. Have a good wedding.” You waved over your shoulder as you walked away from Aemond Targaryen.

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep

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pedgito · 1 year

Note

Thinking of an modern! Eddie fic idea where the fruity for and the reader are all hanging out (doesn’t matter where) and the reader is flirting with a guy over text, she decides to go to the restroom and take some nudes but instead of sending them to the guy shes talking to she sends them to her best friend Eddie Munson who is sitting across from her. Eventual smut.

author's note: i took some liberties here and excluded the fruity four scenario, it just wouldn't fit the way this idea came to me so i hope you don't mind!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), modern!eddie, slightly inexperienced!eddie, confident!reader, established friendship, mentions of reader having lots of casual sex/partners, a little bit on pining/unrequited crushes, handjobs, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 3.4k

You can’t help but feel a little regretful when your phone dings for the millionth time that night, screen light illuminating the darkness of the room, the only other light source being the television position in front of you both.

Eddie was, hands down, your closest friend. He was the person you came to for everything, even slow nights like this when you just wanted to be around each other. And it could, from an outside perspective, look too codependent. But, if either of you were ever feeling sad or upset you always seeked out the other without hesitation.

Eddie felt ridiculous, practically on his hands and knees after school in an effort to have you come over tonight—it’s mostly for show, hoping to make you laugh, but you can see how desperately he needed it.

Still, the notifications on your phone aren’t immune to Eddie’s senses, his eyes dragging toward the phone set atop the coffee table that his feet are resting on, a quick succession of messages in one go.

He clears his throat softly, angling himself away slightly as you reach for the phone, looking back at him apologetically.

You weren’t always this inconsiderate, but Eddie never seemed to mind, not initially anyways.

It was pointless too, some bland conversation with a boy who was much too desperate to get in your pants—but you couldn’t lie to yourself, you were being just as promiscuous as you wanted to be, so the flirting ensues.

It’s not bad either, but it starts to blend together, things you’ve seen time and time again. And Eddie looks like he’s on the brink of passing out, head slumped in his hand and his lip pouting out slightly.

“You don’t have to stay,” He says quietly, his free hand tucked under his shirt, pressing against the warmth of his skin, “I get it.”

Did he, though? Or was he just trying to be nice?

Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him high and dry on a night that he really needed you. And usually you both would be cuddled up against each other, but that wasn’t how tonight was going. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or exhausted, maybe a mix of both.

“I’m not leaving,” You respond, half offended that he would even suggest it, “I just—I’m gonna deal with this so they’ll stop bothering me.”

Whatever that would entail.

“Okay,” He relents, his voice soft, “I’ll pause it if you want.”

The movie, pausing the movie—you glance at the screen and back at Eddie, shaking your head.

“I’ll be quick.” You assure him before fleeing down the hall to the tiny bathroom, unlocking your phone.

And while you don’t necessarily condone sending nude photos of yourself to people you barely knew, you weren’t exactly a stickler for following the rules. Plus, you were good about keeping any identifying marks out of the pictures, namely your face.

You can hear Eddie move around in the other room, his walls dangerously thin. The old couch creaks as he moves and then the front door is squeaking open and slamming shut a few seconds later.

Smoke break.

Well, that or he was giving you some privacy.

You get a text from Eddie a moment later confirming your suspicions.

‘Out front for a smoke if you want to join.’

Followed by another.

‘When you’re done.’

You sigh heavily, switching over to your camera and dealing with the pressing task at hand, lifting your shirt up just above your breasts, a thin and see-through material that gave the subtlest view of your nipples, the curve of your breasts pushed together deliciously—you had to give yourself some credit, they were absolutely picture-worthy.

You snap the picture quickly, fleeting before you overthink it.

But, it doesn’t feel like enough.

You reach your hands around to cup your tits, pulling them out of the material with ease so they sit perfectly on your chest, still slightly supported by the fabric bunched up underneath them.

Was it deserved? Maybe not. But, you couldn’t be bothered to second guess yourself, snapping the second picture and readjusting your clothes, phone scattering into the bowl of the sink as you set it down.

You did want to join Eddie, so you sent the pictures without checking, not realizing how detrimental of a mistake you made. The phone is shoved into your back pocket and you meet Eddie outside a few moments later, his back turned toward you as he puffed on the cigarette, nearly down to a stub.

You reach around him effortlessly, plucking it from his fingers and pressing it to your own mouth.

“You could’ve asked for your own,” He laughs lowly, a deep chuckle that makes you feel warm all over, “I was trying to finish that.”

“Too late,” You smile, pressing the cigarette to your lips and puffing it dead, “I never finish mine and you know it.”

Eddie smiles knowingly, twisting you gently to urge you inside.

“Quick, before we freeze.” He tells you, opening the door to lead you back inside, the butt of the cigarette falling from your fingers as Eddie snuffs it out with his boot.

“I really am sorry,” You apologize timidly, “I know this is supposed to be our time and—“

“Hey, it’s fine,” Eddie shrugs, poking at the frown line in your cheek as you look over at him, “you’re here, at least.”

Eddie grabs a few snacks and drinks to finish out the movie, letting you settle into the space between his legs on the floor, pillow pressed against his lap for you to lean against. He’s playing with your hair absently, your eyes drawn to the screen as he checks his phone, the insistent buzzing of an unchecked notification driving him crazy.

He could only guess it was Dustin bugging him about something only he and Eddie would understand, but it’s not.

It’s not that at all.

It’s your contact name: two pictures attached.

Eddie’s fingers freeze against your hair, but it’s lost on you.

He’s not an idiot, he knows. God, he fucking knows.

And because he loves nothing more than to torture himself, he braves the fear that riddles his body and unlocks his phone, faced with the last thing he could ever expect.

“Oh fuck.” He says quietly, mostly to himself.

“Hmm?” You inquire, not bothering to look back at him.

Eddie stammers, phone almost slipping from his hand.

It’s not the first pair of tits he’s been blessed to see in his lifetime, but it’s not like he’s being bombarded with them on a regular basis. He’s had sex once, seen a girl naked once, in person, not counting the porn he watches on a regular basis—and he’s still new to all of this. But, this feels invasive.

Yet, he couldn’t pull his eyes away.

The silence is digging at you and you turn slowly, hand pressed like a fire-hot brand against his knee that makes him jump, his eyes pulling up toward you.

They’re wide—shocked, lost, and the words that he wants to say are dead on his tongue.

“Eddie, is everything okay?” You ask, concerning flooding you at his state of emotion, “Is it Wayne?”

He could keep it to himself, never tell a soul and live with the fact that he’s a total creep, bound to jerk off to the pictures of you at some point—he’s never outwardly admitted his attraction toward you, but he doesn’t hide it either.

Eddie hasn’t tried to ruin the one good thing he has going on in his life because his dick is telling him so, it’s the one thing he prides himself over.

But, that’s quickly flying out the window.

“Hello,” You call out again, “earth to Eddie? You’re starting to freak me out now.”

Eddie rubs at his brow in exhaustion, forehead creasing as he flips his phone around, “I uh, don’t think these were meant for me.”

You look at him, confused, tearing the phone from his hands and suddenly your mouth is falling open, not a word to be spoken.

“I mean, I’m flattered but—I think it’s safe to assume I wasn’t supposed to see those,” Eddie rambles, “not that like, I wouldn’t want to, but I figured it’s probably better to tell you rather than you finding out later and thinking that I didn’t tell you for some other reason, not that there is…a reason.”

You smile widely at his dramatic rambling. He only ever did it when he was nervous, which was inherently clear now.

This was going…great, clearly.

“That’s–” You laugh uncomfortably, softly, “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”

“No, no—don’t be,” Eddie interjects, “I’m not like I’m bothered or anything—“

“God, I’m so stupid,” You reprimand yourself, tossing the phone back into his lap, his hand tensed tightly into the fabric of the pillow when you move, a small thing you wouldn’t have noticed without the cause of current situation, but you ignore it for now, “you text me—and I didn’t even think to switch it back to the other conversation and I just sent it, like an idiot.”

“I’ll delete it,” Eddie says, reaching for the phone, “I’m going to delete it right now.”

“You already saw it, I don’t think it really matters.”

And it’s the first inkling Eddie gets that maybe you don’t mind—it was a genuine mistake, but you’re more panicking for the sake of Eddie, rather than yourself. Seeing your friend naked wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, but it wasn’t one Eddie had a problem with, not with him harboring such a deep crush on you.

“It feels wrong,” Eddie says, trying to laugh off how awkward things felt, “I mean, not that they’re bad photos—I think I should delete them.”

He shifts slightly, sitting up further as you turn to face him fully, knelt on the carpet at his feet—and that stupid, fucking pillow.

It’s covering the painful hard-on pressing against his jeans. Eddie hasn’t dealt with a situation like this since…well, ever.

Your eyes connect their briefly, the skin around his rings going white from his forcefully he’s gripping it, almost like he’s trying to rut into it secretly, relieving that silent ache.

“Should? Because you want to, right?” You check in with him, his fingers hovering over the delete button, staring intensely back at you.

“Yeah, of course.” He nods jerkily, “Friends don’t–don’t keep pictures like that, do they?”

He’s never been in such an unorthodox situation, learning the rules as he went. He never cuddled with friends or played with their hair, spent nights sleeping next to them in bed because the other was too tired to drive home–it’s a line you both have been walking on for a while, all that unspoken about tension collapsing in on itself.

“Only if they want to,” You tell, “You can–if you want to.”

“They weren’t meant for me.”

There’s a long beat of silence that has his heart racing in his chest, his face heating up.

“They can be.”

“But, what about–”

You shrug lightly, the light from the television shadowing around your face in a way that has Eddie mesmerized, caught up in the way you’re staring straight through him, your hand creeping toward his own, pulling gently at the fingers gripping the pillow.

“They were boring,” You tell him honestly, “and this is...a lot less.”

Eddie resists the pull for a moment, embarrassed by how easily he’s given himself over. It’s far from where he expected the night to go, and his internal monologue is screaming for him to say:

No. This won’t work. This can’t work.

“Eddie.” You say his name once, the tone in your voice telling him everything he needs to know.

Regardless of if this was a one time thing, you wanted it. And if all of this happened purely by chance, he’s thankful for the best goddamn divine intervention he’s ever experienced.

Eddie’s still speechless when you climb into his lap, thighs spread out over his own and his hands reaching around to squeeze at the wedge behind your knee, settling you more comfortably.

This was normal, no different than any other time that you’ve sat in his lap, but your hands are hovering, pillow tossed to the side. You can see how painfully hard his dick is from where it’s pressed up against the thick fabric of his jeans.

“I’m really trying not to make shit weird,” Eddie admits with a clipped laugh, “my body just kinda reacted.”

You shrug again, nonchalant. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Eddie glances down briefly, his hands rising up your thighs slightly, soft skin against rough denim. They squeeze at your hips, his gaze tilting back up toward you.

“What are we doing?”

It’s a question with a million and one answers, but you settle for something simple. Something Eddie can grasp and figure out himself.

“Whatever feels good,” You smile softly, pushing his long tresses behind his ears, the skin stained a deep red, “or we can go back to watching the movie and act like this didn’t happen.”

Eddie grips you a little tighter, like he might lose you.

“I can…help you out,” You suggest, glancing down with a mischievous grin, hands dragging toward the waistband of his jeans and tugging at the belt, “no stipulations or anything, unless you think it’ll go away on its own.”

“Probably–probably not.” Eddie admits. His morning wood wasn’t nearly as bad as this, but it always ended in him tensed up against the shower wall, fucking messily into the tight grip of his hand until he can finally find some relief.

You eye him wordlessly–he can see it in the way you light up.

A silent ‘Then?’ hanging between you both.

Eddie makes the first movie, surprisingly. His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling it with anxious fingers and sweaty hands, fumbling with the zipper until he can finally get it far enough down that he can wiggle his jeans down a bit. You lift yourself slightly to allow the action before settling back down, hands smoothed out over your own thighs. The aggressive tent in his boxers is lingering still–

“I’ve never done this before,” Eddie admits, “Like, without all the other stuff.”

And kissing didn’t feel right, too intimate for the situation despite how badly you wanted to touch him.

“You jerk off, right?” You ask, knowing the question is a little redundant. Of course he does.

He nods.

“So, I’ll just help,” You tell him, “or just watch, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Uh, no—I want,” Eddie nods slowly, looking up at you timidly, “I want you to help.”

There was no sense in him being shy, not with you. But, you get it—it’s uncharted territory, nothing either of you prepared for, but neither of you were turning down the opportunity. So, facing it head on seemed like the best.

“Okay,” You reply easily, dipping your hand between both of you to stretch under the material of his boxers, gripping him firmly. He’s hard, but everything about him is soft. You don’t dare a look, not yet, his eyes connecting with you briefly at the touch, his lips parting. It’s a soundless gasp, eyes pleasing silently, “is that fine?”

Eddie nods again, nose scrunching as you squeezed lightly, fingers rubbing over the fat head of his cock, the heaviness of him resting wonderfully in your hands.

“Might—might be easier if you take it out.” Eddie suggests, lifting his hips slightly to do just that, freeing himself to allow more room for you to move, bare skin pressed against denim.

You peek a glance down in the poorly lit room, flushed pink head disappearing under your grip as you fist him tightly, his hips rocking every now and then to meet your movements, his hands squeezing tighter and tighter against your hips, subconsciously rocking them in time with his. There’s no friction for you, but you don’t need it—this was about Eddie.

For now, at least.

“God, that’s so good,” He whines softly, head dipping back against the cushion as his eyes squeeze shut, “yeah—like that.”

Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth, rubbing testingly over the tip for a prolonged amount of time, precum drenching your hand until it’s sticky with slick, making a horrendously hot sound as your hand sinks down to the base and squeezes.

Eddie breathes uneven, a mix of a sigh and groan wrapped into one, voice cracking in the middle.

“Fuck, what are we doing?” He rambled, a sudden moment of revelation. “This is so—fuck—“

“Feels good?” You tease, “I’m having fun, Eddie—and I think it’s safe to say you are too.”

If the sounds he was making were any indication.

“You had other plans—didn’t you?” Eddie asks curiously, pausing in between words when things get too intense, his fingers digging into your back. It’s not painful, but you can definitely feel it.

“Maybe,” You shrug, “but you��re my best friend, Eddie—I’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice sounding higher than usual.

“Mhm,” You nod, leaning over him slightly until your arm is pressed flush against both of your chests, the ridge of his cock rubbing against the front of your jeans at this angle—he’s so close to where he desperately craved to be, but still far enough away that it hurts. “Anything.”

“Fuck, I’m almost there.” He warns, feeling ashamed at how easy it was to work himself up. “Don’t wanna make a mess.”

You’re quick, using your free hand to lift your shirt over your head, hand leaving him for a brief second—he almost pouts, the feeling flagging slightly as his orgasm approached, but then he’s got your breasts in full view, pressed tightly against the intricate lace of your bra.

He really can’t take it, his hand cupping over your own as you return your grip around his cock, just as furious and tight as before, guiding you down as he likes, bringing himself closer and closer.

“Can’t believe you,” He says aloud, not for any reason in particular, “—doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

You laugh softly, hand sifting into his long curls and gripping at the root gently, he moans softly, eyes boring into your own.

“Depends,” You start menacingly, “how much are you enjoying it?”

He snorts softly, “Too much.”

His eyes linger toward your breasts, follow the slow rise and fall of your chest, the thin gold chain that dips between your cleavage and holds a similar guitar pick to the one he wore, a gift for you after a year of friendship.

It wasn’t because he wanted to see you dawning a piece of himself, it wasn’t that at all. But, you wore it proudly.

You smirk knowingly, guiding him toward your chest encouragingly until his mouth latches into your skin, his hands sprawling out against your back.

It was the push he needed, confidence surging through him as he mouthed at the swell of your breasts, fingers dipping around the cups to stretch the material down, revealing the softened bud of your nipples as they harden in real time, the breeze hitting them immediately.

Eddie comes with his face buried against your chest, panting into your skin hotly as he stifles the lengthy groan that escapes him, rocking into your joined hands with the aftershocks as his come hits your stomach.

He lets out a weak noise, somewhere between surprise and disbelief, sprinkled with an astute feeling of real exhaustion.

“Fuck me,” He groans, reaching blindly for the shirt you hand him, wiping away the mess he’s made without question. He can only assume you don’t mind, given that you so freely handed it to him, “that was…intense.”

You chuckle, climbing off of his lap slowly, adjusting your breasts back into the confines of your bra.

“Still want to finish the movie?” You say jokingly, but he almost seemed pleased that you asked.

“If you don’t mind—“ Eddie laughs slightly, adjusting himself back into his pants, leaving his jeans undone, “I didn’t get on my hands and knees earlier for nothing, you know.”

“Fine, but—“ You point at his wrinkled shirt, yanking at the fabric gently, “I’m gonna need something to wear, since, well—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves you off slightly, a grin splitting over his features, “or?”

It’s a challenge, a brave question to propose in a situation like this.

“I’m not sure you can handle me, Munson.”

“Try me.”

It’s no surprise, Eddie knows you better than anyone. If there was anyone to take you on, it was him.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #my writing

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anyaeras · 10 months

Text

My litttle spider || N.Romanoff

Pairing || vampire Natasha Romanoff x AFAB reader

Warning || smut! ,, they/them pronouns ,, reader has a pussy ,, loss of virginity ,, innocent kink (kinda) ,, possessive ,, a little manipulation ,, Russian usage

Summary || y/n was a vampire hunter in their village , ended up being fucked by the queen.

FYI || this is short and just smut plus I spent 20 min on it

Masterlist

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Y/n was a hunter, a human hunter at that, known for being ever so brave, the society was split between multiple species, vampires, being one of the dominating species. humans seemed to be on the lower end of the totem pole and would wallow in fear, cowering down to the enhanced.

Tonight was no different than most, y/n was out with the rest of the hunters in the community, their human town was small, but well-kept, and they did well making a system which became their way of living, a few selective people became hunters each person had a different reason for why they were a hunter, which was the most dangerous job, being a Hunter meant constantly putting your life on the line in order to protect your people, most despised the thought of anybody going through that, yet y/n had no one to care for them anyway, their parents were preoccupied, and they never made any friends, they lived as the "wanderer" inside their small town.

"Come on get your shit and let's go, we need to be quick" Kent called out, he was a tall and large man, he was in charge of the hunters for this community, yelling specifically at y/n, they hadn't meant to fall behind just it was a lot for someone their size to carry, that's what they get for being a hunter, shit they only even took this job to try and prove they were worth something to their parents, to show they were just as good as their brothers....

Running to keep up, already a few steps behind y/n was able to catch up to the rest of the squad.

"Draw your weapons" was ordered after a quick rumble with heard between the bushes. Y/n was fumbling with their bow, proceeding to just brush it off and go for a dagger, removing it from their leg holder. Yet in a flash it seemed something had pulled the weapon away. There y/n watched as the whole team ran, fleeing from the situation, leaving no help or communication with y/n, who out of absolute instant stumble back tripping over a long root, cause them to tumble to the ground, as the hunter was trying to pull themself together getting up to run following their group a lengthy hand was felt grasping their arm , panic set in quickly, now holding no weapons having no way to fight back, all y/n could do was try and run, yet due to the firm grasp it seemed the attempts were absolutely pointless, finally the creature who had a hold on y/n flip them around becoming face-to-face with a vampire...not just a vampire clearly a royal vampire.

"Aren't you a little small to be a hunter Дорогой" the red headed women who stood tall above y/n spoke down to them.

Y/n was in a pickle that was for damn sure, no place to run, the idea that this was the end and that this vile creature who stood before them whom might they add was extremely pretty for being a vampire....well what was y/n to compare it to it's not like they've met any other vampires, the only had any idea about them due to story's which have been told throughout the community....but that's besides the point.

"I am not, I am just as capable to be a hunter as any of those men" every small ounce of braveness was pulled from their body as they stood as tall as they possible could in front of the much larger women.

"Aren't you cute, well I'm sure you are just as strong as those big bad men, but maybe even braver they just took off and left you here for me, isn't that right Дорогой" the soft voice was taunting to the young hunter, yet there was nothing they could do about it, the vampire had moved closer one hand reached under y/n's jaw forcing them to look up at the vampire meeting eye to eye.

Y/n tried to pull away but was to no success, being held in a state with the vampire.

"You smell....devine" Natasha's raspy tone was echoing in y/n's head, yet it was quick when Natasha made a move, pushing her lips into y/n's which when y/n didn't entirely pull away a smirk was stuck to her Crimson lips.

"Don't tell me, you enjoy the big scary vampire kissing your lips? Mmm?" The tall vampire teased get a firm "never"' from the human, but that didn't stop her, moving her kisses lower finally to her delight a strangled moan slipped prompting Natasha to go on, something was drawing her to the human clearly going to keep the small being.

"Y/n tell me are you a virgin?" The supernatural asked stoping the sloppy kissed abruptly to ask, noticing y/n's heart race increase telling they were about to lie

"No, I-I'm not" y/n tried to keep a straight face and seem confident in the lie yet the tell tale signs would clearly give y/n away.

"Would you like to say the truth now? Or will I have to do it for you?" The vampire stated with almost a cold expression, which cause the humans cheeks to rush to a rosey shade, the long skinny hands of Natasha started to rome y/n'a body, slipping down into the waistline of their pants feeling the soft underwear material slightly damp causing the women to let out a small laugh.

"Wow for a human who came to kill me, you seen wildly turned on" the teasing only turned y/n's face an even darker shade of red, while Natasha fingers moved pushing past their panties to run her fingers between their folds, coating her cold long fingers in y/n's warm juices, the action caused a choked moan to slip out from them only leading Natasha to smirk.

"Look at you doing so well for your first Дорогой (darling) you will be such a good pet for me, you'll like the castle, it's so much better than the village you come from" Natasha's words went right past y/n, the new found feeling of pleaser overtook their thought process.

Slowly Natasha kept going enjoying how y/n was reacting, getting them hot and bothered while their cunt was just dripping, easily only one finger slipped into y/n, causing them to Yelp at this brand new feeling

"My oh my y/n tell me doesn't that feel good, letting me play with your virgin cunt, you seemed to be enjoying it" Natasha pushed on thrusting the one finger in and out before adding a second one making y/n back arch

"Oh my god, please please don't...don't stop" y/n pleaded with Natasha the pleasure of being penetrated was mind blowing, y/n didn't have it in them to think logically about the fact a vampire was fingering their pussy, all they could do was melt into her hold.

Natasha speed up the movement of her fingers yet when the feeling of needed to Piss came over them they tried their best to push away from the supernatural.

"N-no please stop...gotta pee" the words made the vampire laugh, she then saw how innocent her pet was.

"Shh no, just let go" Natasha said keeping her voice soft, while her free hand moved from supporting y/n who also was leaning in a tree, to placing pressure on their clit. With all the motion y/n was thrown over the edge with a long moan, y/n's cum flushed onto Natasha fingers, yet the vampire didn't remove herself from their pussy until they had a moment to come down from their high, the vampire held the human up with one arm, removing her other hand from their pants licking her fingers clean before turning back to y/n.

"You'll be such, a good good pet Мой маленький паук (my little spider)

#anyaeras #lgbtqia #marvel #writing #marvel mcu #fanfic #marvel edits #marvel fic #natasha romanoff x reader #mommy natasha #natasha romanov #black widow #marvel smut #lesbian #vampire #vampire Natasha #marvel black widow

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hotpinkstars · 4 months

Text

-> shenhes reaction to different love languages

synopsis -> how shenhe reacts to different love languages. pretty self-explanatory.

w/c -> 1.5k

-> quality time

as we all know, shenhe is certainly not one who knows love. so when you first introduced the topic of quality time to her, she just kind of cocked her head and looked at you. she was someone who quite literally needed assistance to keep her homicidal nature at bay, and you were someone who could barely harm a flee. why ever would you want quality time with her, she thought? although the both of you are a couple, she won’t ever understand all of that stuff that normal couples do.

it takes a minute or two (more like a couple futile attempts) to get her to open up to spending a lot of time like that with you, but once you get her to maybe get a bite to eat at a cuisine in the harbor, she warms up to the idea a little bit more. she still doesn’t understand why couples like to do this- she was put under the impression of relationships being kissing, hugging, and sleeping together.

soon enough, she’ll be the one to request to do some of these things that you showed her. depending on how much she wants it, you might have to take the hint, or she’ll just blandly tell you directly.

“i would like to grab a meal in liyue harbor like we did last week.”

“shenhe, it’s two in the morning… but as soon as the sun rises, sure!”

well, she’s sure got the spirit!!

-> words of affirmation

the first time you even said something as simple as “i love you so, so much,” this woman kind of just froze and asked you to repeat that.

she doesn’t get it. she probably asked you why people say that at first, and then she got it. she already kind of knew, she just wanted to be sure she heard you right. and that she did. a few minutes after you said that to her she could feel a nice warmth in her chest and a little grin coming onto her face.

even things such as “i love the way you did your braid today!” make her feel so grateful that she was able to date someone such as you. sometimes cloud retainer wonders what's got her in such a good mood these past few months, considering how sour she sometimes can be.

another one she tries to reciprocate once she gets used to it. (spoiler alert: she does it for all of these lol.) she’ll sometimes tell you that you look particularly nice that day. in her eyes, you look glamorous every day, but she saves that for when you two go to a fancy restaurant and you’re all dressed nice.

-> acts of service

acts of service for shenhe seem pointless in her eyes at first. she has learned to take care of herself, why should she need someone else to do the things she does for own good for her? she can make her own bed, she can put toothpaste on her own toothbrush, and she can cook her own meals. so, when she first saw that the bed was all made, the pillows were fluffed, and there was already toothpaste on her toothbrush from when you were last in there, she seemed a little.. shocked? it was very hard to tell what she felt, but she felt, once again, a warmth in her chest. she came out of the room to ask you about it, and saw you making breakfast.

“well, i just decided maybe you’d like it! if you don’t, i can stop…”

“well… i.. really like this.. act of kindness. but i do not know if i understand it yet.”

you laughed and motioned for her to sit down as you served two plates and decided to chat her up a little bit about what you were going to do that day. she ate her food with a small smile, and engaged in the conversation.

sometimes, she’d come home to find little samples of some foods she likes with a little note on the side of the plate saying something like “i made something i picked up on you liking. i hope you enjoy it!”

this was one she decided to take little steps to show. she’d do basics that she didn’t even realize she was doing before, like tidying up the room a little bit or putting the dishes away or folding the blankets. all she knew is that it made you happy to see the house so nice and clean, so she continued to do it whenever she was available to.

-> receiving gifts

talk about something she isn’t all that familiar with.

the first time you put a little trinket in her hands- for instance, a keychain, she just looked at you curiously.

“what is this?”

“oh, nothing really. i just thought it would be cute to dangle from your vision. see, it even matches your hair color!”

she handed it back to you and told you to hook it somewhere on her vision. she looked at it with a mirror and a kamera, smiling gratefully, even though she didn’t think it was all that necessary. she got used to your constant gift giving though, and, once again, didn’t understand what the occasion was, she still cherished them silently. the first time you gifted her something bigger, like maybe a pair of heels, she thought she missed something.

“y/n, what is this for? is there some occasion i am not aware of? it’s not your birthday, or my birthday, or our anniversary… is it maybe a holiday?”

“nope!” you replied. “just saw them on sale in liyue. i bought them because they looked like they matched your style!”

she took another good look at these and put them in the closet. you saw her wear them with her combat outfit a few days later, indirectly trying to show them off to you.

she’ll try and get you gifts too, but she’ll go to the traveler or cloud retainer for help. the traveler has met you a few times, so he/she probably knows what you like just based off of how much shenhe talks about you, and just by your bubbly personality.

paimons always the one bringing the gift idea up to shenhe. if she likes the idea, then the gift will be given to you as early as possible.

-> physical touch

if she’s gonna be starved of any of this, it’s gonna be physical touch. she’s gotten a few pats on the head or shoulder by cloud retainer or her fellow adepti companions whenever she’s done something well, but that’s the extent of it. she has never been tackled to the bed and cuddled before, she’s never really been hugged, and she certainly hasn’t slept in the same bed in a super touchy manner with anyone else before you.

the first time you rolled over to her side of the bed and latched onto her back, sliding your arms around her waist and propping your head on her shoulder, she was understandably stunned. at first, she tried to pull away, but you wouldn’t let her. so, she was stiffer than a board the rest of the night to be careful not to roll on top of you, and immediately brought it up to you in the morning. you told her it’s just what you do, and was always what you did since you were a child- you felt the need to constantly hug something in your sleep, and you decided to hug her. she just slightly nodded, still not understanding, and walked away for a little while to process what happened the night before.

she’ll eventually be much more open to the idea of allowing you to rest on top of her or hugging her, still being fairly stiff. but the first time you asked her to rest her head on your chest, she declined, saying she was “too strong and could potentially cut off your airways if she wasn’t careful.” you brushed that thought off and slightly begged her until she sighed and very slowly let her weight fall onto your body. she genuinely liked the way this made her feel, and continued to do it much more often- when she was sad, upset, stressed, or just felt the need to lay on your chest for a few minutes.

when it came to hand-holding or hugging, she wasn’t opposed. she just made a strict rule that there is no hugging or cuddling in public. you agreed, and only did those things when you both knew that there was privacy. the last thing the both of you wanted was to scare each other off. that would be crushing to both ends.

she was much more open to cuddling and hand holding and all that comes with it later into your relationship- you realized she was a woman who needed an indescribable amount of patience, and that you were willing to give.

#shenhe x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #shenhe #x reader #genshin #genshin x reader

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candycandy00 · 6 months

Note

hello! i just came by one of your post, and checked your profile for more. could you do a rape scenario for sukuna? it can be short, or long, anyway you prefer, no pressure <3

Smut. 18+. Rape/Noncon! This is a very brutal little fanfic! Do not read if things like this bother you! Contains blood/torture/humiliation/double penetration. All the bad things! This turned out way longer than I planned but I got kinda into it lol. Goes harder than I intended too but let’s face it: being raped by Sukuna would be a very hard experience.

You were a powerful sorceress. That’s what everyone had told you since you were a young girl. Your power dwarfed that of every other person in your large village, and so you were treated as special, almost like a deity. You had your own group of guards, whom you cherished as dear friends, and you adored the villagers who showered you with gifts.

So when the monster Ryomen Sukuna attacked your village, you didn’t even hesitate to step in and try your best to protect it. You were a bit naive, having been sheltered by the villagers, but you were not stupid. You had heard rumors about Sukuna, and so you were aware that you probably didn’t stand a chance against him. Still, if you could only keep him distracted long enough for some of the villagers to flee into the mountains, it would be worth trying to fight him.

He was most likely after the cache of cursed weapons and items stored there, and would probably have little interest in chasing down the people scurrying like rats. You would offer the treasures to him, but he was already in the village, already slaughtering everyone who stepped into his path. He would listen to no offers, no negotiations. So you dismissed your guards, who only left when you commanded them to guard the children as they were evacuated, and then hurried to the village square to confront Sukuna.

When you saw him, your heart nearly stopped. He was far more terrifying than you had ever imagined. It wasn’t just the four arms and four eyes, the massive height, the muscular figure. It was the aura he emitted, the crushing pressure of his very presence. Every inch of your body was screaming for you to run, or to immediately drop into a bow and beg for your life. This man was a cruel and brutal beast. He would tear you apart if you displeased him in the slightest of ways. That’s what you felt when you looked at him.

Even so, there was something awe-inspiring about him. You understood instantly how he had brought so many villages to heel and why people were drawn to him. There was a savage beauty to him that made your heart pound furiously.

But despite all of this, you still had to fight him. Every second you could buy was another second for the villagers to escape.

“If it’s the cursed tools you want, you can have them,” you shouted to him from several feet away. “Spare the rest of the villagers, and you can take them all with no resistance!”

He looked at you then, his red eyes all four sweeping over you. “What resistance?” he asked with a laugh, sending invisible blades slicing through a woman who was running by you. Her blood splattered across your robe.

As you suspected, trying to talk to him was pointless. Battle was the only language he understood at that moment.

So you attacked him. The fight was brief, lasting less than half an hour and consisting mainly of you evading his slashes while failing to get a solid hit on him. You got the impression he could have ended the fight instantly but had chosen to toy with you first. In the end, his slashes ripped through you, shredding your robes as well as your flesh, leaving you a bloody mess on the ground.

As your life faded, you saw him walking toward you, and to your great surprise, he used his Reverse Cursed Technique to heal you! Not enough to restore you completely, but enough to pull you out of the dying state. You were still covered in slash wounds, but they were closing up and no longer pouring blood. You struggled to get to your feet, realizing with embarrassment that your clothing had been completely destroyed, leaving you naked and totally vulnerable before this monster. You wrapped your wounded arms around yourself and looked at him questioningly, wondering why he spared you.

You got your answer soon enough.

He’d dragged you into the shrine, sat down on the raised dais, and pulled your bare, cut up body into his lap. You were too terrified, and too weak, to struggle. You’d used up all your cursed energy in your vain attempt to stall him, and you’d lost a lot of blood. It was still dripping down your body in small, slow trickles.

When he reached down with one of his four hands and pulled his own robe open, you nearly screamed. Revealed to you were two gigantic cocks, one above the other. Both were standing tall and hard. Apparently the battle, brief and one-sided as it was, had aroused him. Or maybe it had been the sight of your naked, bloody flesh. Regardless, you understood what was happening, and your only comfort was that more of the villagers would have a chance to escape while Sukuna was violating you.

Just then you heard a commotion at the shrine’s entrance, and the worst possible sight greeted you when you looked up. Your guards, the handsome and kind hearted young men who were charged with protecting you, had rushed in. The look of horror on their faces probably mirrored your own. You could only imagine what they were thinking, finding you in this state.

They ran forward, intending to help you, but the first one was sliced to ribbons before he got even a foot closer. The rest of them paused, but clearly were prepared to run at Sukuna again, but Sukuna’s smooth voice stopped them.

“Take another step, and I’ll slice her up the same way.”

They all froze, their infuriated eyes watching Sukuna’s hands jerk your arms behind your back while the other two moved over your body.

“Kneel,” he told them, and they quickly dropped to their knees. Sukuna grinned. “All of you watch.”

You turned your face to look at him. “Please, no! Just let them go! I won’t struggle!”

His haunting red eyes met yours as a wicked smile spread over his face. “I want you to struggle,” he said, and his two free hands yanked your legs apart, exposing you to your guards.

To a man, they all looked away, but then you felt a painful slash across your shoulder. Blood spurted as you cried out, and the guards looked back up. Sukuna didn’t even have to speak the threat for your guards to understand.

Sukuna shifted his hands so that only one of them was holding your wrists behind your back. Only one was needed. Two of them were still holding your thighs wide apart, and the last one moved down between your legs, his fingers gliding across your slit. One finger slipped between the delicate flesh and found your most sensitive spot, stroking it with agonizing gentleness. You didn’t want to feel pleasure in this situation, from an evil, sadistic man who’d murdered many of your friends, and right in front of your poor guards who were forced to watch. But Sukuna’s fingers moved masterfully, rubbing in exactly the right way to send jolts of pleasure through your entire body.

You quivered in his lap, trying to pull your hands free, trying to close your shaking legs, but it was no use. Your struggling and fighting only seemed to excite him.

He pressed his mouth against your ear, and said in a low, sultry voice, “For a nobody in a backwater village like this, you’re pretty strong. But that’s alright. I enjoy breaking the strong ones.”

Suddenly you felt something wet and soft moving over your clit. You looked down in alarm to find a mouth in his palm, the lips open and a long tongue protruding from it, lapping at your spread open pussy. You cried out in surprise, and then in horror when you realized the pleasure was becoming too much for you. Sukuna was going to make you cum right here in front of your guards.

You struggled again, jerking against his grip, but it only made him laugh loudly.

“You should be thanking me,” he said. “If I don’t get you properly slicked up, my cocks are going to rip you apart.”

You whimpered in response, tears filling your eyes. You knew what was coming, but having him verbally confirm it broke your spirit.

You’d been avoiding the eyes of your guards. You couldn’t bear to meet their gazes. But there was one you’d been particularly close to, and you couldn’t help seeking his face for some small bit of comfort. But when you looked at him, you found his face flushed pink as he watched you writhe about in Sukuna’s grasp.

Sukuna chuckled in your ear. “Your guards are starting to enjoy the show.” The words cut you deeper than any of Sukuna’s slashes had. These men were your friends! Some were like brothers to you!

Suddenly Sukuna’s hand-tongue plunged inside you while his fingers pinched your clit. You moaned despite yourself, your back arching against your will. You’d never felt anything like this, and with tears of shame and pain running down your face, you came on Sukuna’s hand.

When it was finally over, and you were a trembling mess in Sukuna’s lap, you hung your head low and sobbed. You were so ashamed of yourself for feeling pleasure, for having an orgasm from the touch of this brutal conqueror. But your torment was only beginning.

You felt Sukuna lift your whole body up, then position the tip of his absurdly huge upper cock at your entrance. Then without hesitation, he pulled you down, roughly and quickly, impaling you.

A scream erupted from your mouth as you felt yourself stretching past your limits, your skin slightly tearing, warm blood trickling down your thighs. Sukuna was merciless, immediately beginning to move you up and down his length with two of his powerful hands, as if you were a toy to him. You cried, you struggled, but it only made his movements faster, harsher. He was enjoying your pain, laughing at your humiliation.

Eventually, after an unknown amount of time passed during which you almost blacked out twice, you heard his voice again. “My lower cock is feeling neglected.”

You were half conscious, but you snapped to awareness when you felt his other tip pressing into you. His fingers had slid in beside his upper cock, and were stretching you even further open, to make room. You looked back at him in disbelief. “Y-you can’t! That would kill me!”

Again he put his warm mouth close to your ear as he said, “From the moment you attacked me, you’ve been living on borrowed time. At least use your pitiful death to please me.”

You glanced out at your guards, your addled mind somehow hoping they could save you. But they were all frozen, the ones that had looked slightly aroused earlier now looked horrified as they realized what Sukuna was doing. A few of them had tears in their eyes.

“Please send them away,” you begged. “Don’t make them watch me die.”

“But that’s the best part!” he said, the grin on his face looking slightly unhinged.

And then, the second cock shoved its way in. You gasped first, then screamed as he sheathed it completely inside you, ripping you open in the process. As he began moving you up and down, drilling into you, the pain was blinding, maddening. You wondered if this was what giving birth felt like.

Two of his hands were on your waist, lifting you up and down, one was still holding your wrists behind you. The fourth hand touched your face, turning it to the side so that he could look at you, so he could watch the agony in your eyes. For a moment, he wore no expression at all. And then he dipped his head closer to yours and kissed your mouth. It was a bizarrely sensual kiss, a kiss for lovers. Gentle, slow, intimate. It confused you more than anything.

He released your wrists, but you were too weak to do anything useful with them, so they dropped limply to your sides. The hand he’d been using to restrain you slid down, and again a mouth appeared in his palm, the tongue softly circling your clit.

You wanted to scream again, to beg him to stop. Don’t make me feel pleasure while you’re killing me! you thought. But your tortured body sought out any relief it could find, any sensation that didn’t hurt. And Sukuna’s tongues, one in your mouth and one gliding wetly over your clit, did not hurt. In fact they were the only things that didn’t.

So your body responded. Even as his twin cocks tore through you, even as you could hear blood dripping onto the floor, you moaned into Sukuna’s mouth. Reflexively, without your permission, one of your hands moved up to touch his face as he kissed you, sliding back and into his hair. You felt him smile against your mouth, his eyes shimmering with delight.

You didn’t want this. You could think of very few things you could want less than being violently raped by Sukuna in front of your helpless guards. But the human body does all sorts of strange things to cope, to survive. So you came, moaning and crying at the same time, your body twitching in his hands, your guards looking on in horror.

Eventually, Sukuna’s cocks shot out massive loads of cum, first the upper one and then the lower one, completely filling you. Afterwards, he pushed you off his lap, and you landed unceremoniously in a heap on the floor, blood and cum pouring out of you.

You were certain you were dying, and within seconds you passed out right there on the floor of the shrine.

When you awoke, Sukuna had taken all the cursed tools your village had been guarding and left. You heard from one of your guards, who refused to look you in the eye, that Sukuna had healed you almost completely before leaving. You had no idea why.

You also found out the majority of the villagers had made it safely into the mountains, and were now being escorted back by the guards. So even though you had gone through hell and back, you would still do it again. Your suffering saved a lot of lives, and you could live with that.

Sometimes you wondered why Sukuna spared you, and even went so far as to heal you. Maybe it was just a whim. Or maybe he thought he might return someday to terrorize you again. Either way, you had survived. Your village had survived.

#Sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #Sukuna #ryomen sukuna #tw: rape #tw: blood #tw: torture

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crusty-chronicles · 5 months

Text

Stubborn

Synopsis: In which our two favorite demons tend to and scold Reader for being careless during a fight. Separate drabbles btw

Kurama 🦊🦊🦊

The first thought that crosses his mind is one of anger. How dare that feeble demon even think to put it's hands on you. The next is that there's blood. So much blood seeping from the wound on your side. The decision of what to do is made without hesitation. He wasted no time rushing to your side. Lifting up your shirt slightly to heal the wound.

The others would take care of the fleeing demon. For now, his top priority was you. Making sure you'd be okay. But apparently that wasn't how you saw it. Pushing his hands away with the little strength you had.

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. You should go after that thing with the others,” you tried to sway.

As if your life wasn't more important.

Like he didn't cherish you more than anything.

His gaze hardened, maneuvering you on your back to get a proper look at your wound. Summoning his spirit energy in his palm and pressing it firmly against your side.

“You'd think of me so callous as to abandon my injured lover?” He questioned.

His accusation temporarily shocking you.

“No but-” ‘you shouldn't be wasting your time with me.’ you wanted to say. But you were cut off before you could finish.

“Then there's nothing more to discuss. When I'm finished, we'll go right back home. Yusuke and Kuwabara are more than capable of handling this by themselves.”

You once again shifted around, trying to get him to stop. The case came first. It should've come first. Not you. You were hurt, but wouldn't die from it. It was pointless wasting energy on something you could manage with on your own. Kurama shouldn't be focusing on you when there was still an important mission at hand.

He gave you a glare and that was all it took to have you stilling.

“Why must you insist on being difficult? Don't you know that I'll choose you every time? I'll always choose you over any fight, any mission, any person. No matter what, it's always you, so sit still and let me heal you.”

—------

Hiei ⚔️⚔️⚔️

Impulsive, impulsive, impulsive.

He sees red the second your body hits the floor and you struggle to get up. A dark crimson trailing down your forehead.

Damn whoever hurt you, and damn anybody who dared get in his way.

He quickly slays the one responsible for your injury. Not even giving them enough time to process what's happening before it's over. When that's taken care of, he makes his way over to you. Shooing the group of your friends away so he can inspect your injuries himself. Despite the protests from a certain troublesome reaper.

“Let me see.” It's more of an order than a request.

But instead of complying, you turn your head and try to stand. Trying your best not to make a big deal out of nothing. Only for Hiei to shove you back down.

“I'm okay. It's just a scratch.” You brushed off, but he wasn't convinced in the slightest. Moving to wipe off the blood from your forehead.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Don't. It doesn't hurt, so leave it. And anyways, you shouldn't have killed that guy. He needed to be brought in for questioning.”

Your words only further irritating the three eyed demon.

It seems you didn't quite understand the importance you held in his life.

He would have slayed thousands for even looking at you wrong. And here you were defending some cretin who'd committed an offense that was deserving of a fate worse than death. Sometimes he hated that human heart of yours.

“Shut up. You don't get to run your mouth after being so foolish.” He scolded. Moving to heal your injury with his spirit energy. He didn't do it often, but you were always a special case. You were special.

Yet you continued to try and avoid his help.

“I'm fine!”

“Argue any further and I'll put you to sleep myself. You think I care about some low life over you? You must have a concussion if you believe that.”

Then his next words were softer. For your ears only.

“Your life takes priority over anyone and everything, got that? You're mine, and any creature that dares lay a finger on you will have to deal with that consequence.”

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

#yu yu hakusho x reader #hiei yu yu hakusho #hiei x reader #yyh hiei #hiei jaganshi #kurama x reader #yoko kurama #kurama yu yu hakusho #shuichi minamino #x reader #drabble

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baldurs-gape · 4 months

Text

Hunt

Two hundred years of being a spawn and Astarion had thought he'd learned everything he needed to about the life he had been dealt. His own naive arrogance came to bite him in the arse almost literally. Tadpoles, nautiloids, the lot came and went. Suddenly he was free and had to fend for himself. Easy.

Charming his way into the rag tag group of fellow tadpole fashionistas was easy. They all seemed so eager to pull him into their camp that Astarion almost felt bad for them for not realising they were cavorting with a monster. A very hungry one at that. Still, Astarion had a bit of sense left and he steered away from snacking on his protection.

Which left him with the only other option of hunting. Easier said than done. In all his years he had only ever been granted a fetid rat to drain, already half congealed so sucking it dry was in itself an exhausting chore. Still, it couldn't be that hard, right?

Traipsing off into the surrounding area once the rest of camp had fallen asleep, Astarion was eager to find himself a meal. He was an apex predator after all, designed to be the ultimate hunter. Except the woods were silent. No matter how quietly he moved, there was not a single creature to sink his teeth into. Frustrated, Astarion returned to camp and vowed to go a bit later the next night, when the noises of the camp had long since died down and calm descended on the area.

It was pointless. The heartbeats he could hear were impossible to reach. Not even a half-dead rat to scrounge up from the undergrowth. Really, Astarion had been hoping for something a bit more substantial like a boar. Alas, there was nothing of the sort he could find as he stalked through the shrubland.

Desperation drove him to stupidity. Sure, he could exist without sustenance but he wanted blood. It occupied most of his conscious thought, hearing the hearts of his companions beat almost deafeningly loudly. Self-discipline had never been his strong point and Astarion caved. Just a sip, that had been all he'd wanted. Never got even that as he was caught mid-attempt and almost sent fleeing from the camp.

Promising never to do that again had been easy. Protection was more important than satiating the neverending craving. As the group moved on, Astarion trailed along, on the search for something, anything to eat.

Closer to the goblin camp there were more animals dotted around and once again Astarion overestimated himself. Just because there was food within reach didn't mean it was as simple as sauntering up for a bite. No matter how quietly he tried to sneak, to ambush, creatures went skittering from him. Even the squirrel with a limp had evaded his launched attack.

Irritation licked hot up Astarion's spine. He should be better than this. Instead he was hungry and making more and more rash attempts to capture anything to fill his stomach. After the goblin camp's fight he had half a mind to return and see if he could have a few sips of tepid and cooling blood from the dead. Alas, upon his return he discovered that someone had dutifully gathered the corpses and was burning them.

Angry and frustrated, he headed out into the woods again late at night. There was the sound of a slow, large heart beating up ahead. Sneaking closer, Astarion was thrilled to discover a bear. It turned to look at him but discarded his appearance as a lack of threat. Bolstered, Astarion edged closer. The bear was huge, even by bear standards. Optimism wavering, he eyed it up for the best place to bite. Before he could make a decision, the large head turned again and dropped something in front of Astarion. A dead boar. Eyeing it, he glanced at the bear who huffed. What a strange creature. Still, Astarion was starving and he sank to his knees to drink. It was messy, unrefined. At least the blood wasn't still pumping through its veins to make the task more difficult. Sated and drenched from chin to near enough his hips, Astarion sighed.

"Thanks." It felt ridiculous to say that to the bear but being polite had been literally beaten into him.

From then on, Astarion found that the bear kept him company most nights. No matter where they bedded down, the bear seemed to follow. At first it merely plopped dead animals in from of Astarion for eating. The first big surprise was when it was no longer a dead creature but one that was still barely alive. The second big surprise came only a few seconds later. Blood from a still living creature was more divine than anything Astarion had ever had. He moaned as he sank his teeth through fur and skin. Drank and drank until he felt full to bursting then drank a bit more. Returning to camp, he was only a little drunk on his feast.

If Astarion had been a bit more alert, he'd have noticed the strange coincidence of his meal and that of the rest of the camp's matching. When he drank from a boar, the camp had boar stew. Rothé steak when Astarion drained a Rothé the night before. But he was too caught up in the bliss of being well fed and protected to notice.

By the time the bear had nothing ready for him, Astarion was a little offended. He had grown rather used to being provided for. However, the bear grunted at him and walked off, Astarion followed with minor grumblings.

Hunting, it turned out, was an artform. One that the bear seemed willing to teach him. While Astarion sprang from a bush to try and grab his prey, the bear sat back and watched. After the third unlucky attempt, the bear waded in. Astarion got to watch how the bear hunted down their prey, cornered it but waited for Astarion to approach and land the killing blow.

From then on it became a nightly activity. Slowly, Astarion mastered the art of hunting thanks to the bear. The first time he brought down a boar by himself, he was almost too elated to remember to drink. But drink he did, nothing had ever tasted sweeter than his own first independent kill.

Eventually, Astarion found himself to be a proficient hunter. He could feed himself with minor difficulties and rarely missed his target. Which was why, when he went to meet his strange bear, he was rather annoyed to find Halsin sitting in the spot instead.

"What you doing here?" Astarion drawled, trying to hide his frustration.

"I thought you might like a humanoid companion for your hunt this evening." Nose wrinkling, Astarion tried to deny everything. He was left speechless as Halsin sighed "if you insist" and shifted into an all too familiar bear form.

"You!" Torn between outrage, humiliation and gratitude, Astarion couldn't quite pick the emotion to go with. "It was you all along?"

The idea of Halsin watching him fail at hunting, treated him like an inept cub, had ever witnessed how messy and clumsily Astarion fed at the start, it was mortifying. Yet he was still there, offering companionship. Astarion's jaw snapped shut as he sniffed.

"Fine. I supppose you can come along in whatever form." Haughtily he added, "You could have saved yourself a lot of hassle if you'd just offered yourself up you know."

A knowing smile was sent his way. "I know. But you never asked. So I didn't."

"And if I asked now?"

"Want to find out?"

#bloodbear #astarion/halsin #astarion x halsin #halstarion #astarion #halsin #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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