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#honestly i miss this sweet dove so much
wild-at-mind · 11 months
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Any time a bird is in captivity of any kind without fail there’s someone who shows up and goes ‘:( so sad, it should be FREE!’ Which, I’m very aware of the problems with cagebirds, but someone does this every time including when the bird in question is very clearly a genetic freak of some sort. For example, a rescue aviary near me used to have a lovely fantail dove, who according to volunteers was extremely friendly and loved cuddles and sitting on people’s heads. She’s passed away now, sadly, but on the aviary facebook there’s an old video of her and someone has put one of those comments along the lines of she should be in the wild. But she was so visibly a product of human selective breeding it was unreal. She had a huge, bulgy chest and her neck was bent so far back that the resting position of her head was on her back. If her eyes weren’t on the sides of her head she wouldn’t have been able to see over her own chest. Not all fantail doves look like this, but this one was so extreme looking that they had a little sign on the aviary reassuring people she was alright. I just wondered where exactly this commenter imagined she would belong if all the birds in the aviary were released into the wild and somehow back into their ideal habitats. There’s nowhere in the world outside of in the care of humans where a bird looking like that would be remotely ok.
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Idolification.
Pairing: Yandere!Itadori Yuuji x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: No Curse/College AU, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Stalking, (Unintentional) Emotional Manipulation, Oral Sex, Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (Reader's 27, Yuuji's 22), Intimidation, Brief Mommy Kink, Pepper Spray, and Obsessive Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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“I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”
“It was an accident, you don’t have to—” Yuuji was cut off by another splash of milk, quickly followed by another jet of water. Her makeshift treatment was harsh, the temperature alternating unpredictably between ice cold and scalding hot, but Yuuji took the abuse with a smile that was almost bright enough to distract you from the red, aggravated skin around his eyes. Almost. “It’s alright,” he managed, eventually, doing his best not to sound like he was being slowly drowned in your bathtub. “Believe it or not, that’s only the second worst thing I’ve gotten in my eyes.”
Knowing him, it was probably closer to the fourth or fifth, but that did little to ease your guilt. He’d been leaving as you were getting home from your second twelve-hour shift of the week, and from there, it’d been a comedy of errors. He spotted you coming down the hall, haggard and bleary-eyed, and saw the babysitter who’d spent more summers than not keeping him (and, by association, his older half-brother) out of trouble before their family fell off of the face of the planet, and reacted the way Yuuji reacted to most things – with open arms and a contagious smile. You’d looked at him, a far cry from the kid you’d spent so much time looking after, and seen a very strange, very grown man loitering outside of the door to your shoebox of an apartment before charging towards you with a manic expression and, well, you had always wanted an excuse to use the pepper spray you carried near-religiously. It was only a shame it had to be on someone as sweet as Yuuji.
Now, you were on your knees on the floor of your bathroom, your fingers tangled in Yuuji’s hair as your roommate gently waterboarded him with a cartoon of organic oat milk in one hand and your decade-old showerhead in the other. The front of his t-shirt was soaked through, his lung half-flooded at least, but he was still grinning like you’d greeted him with a blank check and a litter of puppies. “Honestly, it’s on me,” he insisted, his enthusiasm too potent not to be genuine. “Miss Shoko mentioned she was living with someone.”
At the mention of your roommate, Shoko Ieiri, your attention shifted to the woman in-question. You weren’t an idiot. After the shock died down, it hadn’t taken long for you to piece together why a young man would be rushing to get out of your apartment while your attractive (albeit, socially dead) roommate was home alone. When she met your prying eyes, you shot her a pointed glare. “Cradle rocker.”
She threatened to turn the showerhead on you, but relented as soon as you flinched away. “He’s in one of my classes,” she muttered, then pushed herself to her feet with a soft groan. “We’re out of milk,” she said, shaking the empty carton. “Let his eyes air-dry. I’ll be in my office – come get me if he starts crying again.”
“I’m a doctor too, y’know.”
“You’ll be a doctor in another year. Right now, you’re an intern.” She eyed Yuuji wearily. “An intern who physically assaults her patients, at that.”
Without any real way to retort, you stuck your tongue out – a gesture Shoko mimicked as she slipped out of the crime scene that was your bathroom. Despite Shoko’s advice, you fished a towel off the nearest rack and handed it to Yuuji, who accepted it with a grateful hum. “I really am sorry,” you repeated, burying your face in your hands. “It’s just, it’s been so long, and you look so different, and god, it’s been—”
“—ten years,” Yuuji filled in, probably tired of hearing you repeat the same two excuses. “I remember, ‘cuz you invited us to your graduation that year. I wanted to go, too, but Gramps got sick and…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck with an airy chuckle. “You know how it is.”
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I loved your grandfather. How is he?”
Yuuji’s smile wavered for the first time. “He passed, actually. A few years ago.”
Fuck.
If the building was going to collapse and bury you in the rubble, that would’ve been the time.
“Sukuna’s doing good, though,” Yuuji went on, kind enough to pretend there hadn’t been a lapse. “He opened a restaurant a few months ago. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but it’s been keeping him out of the ring.” His expression brightened. “And you’re a doctor! I mean, I knew you would be, but you’re a doctor!”
You felt your face heat up his brother’s name, your eyes falling to the tiled floor. “Almost a doctor. I just started my internship.” And they’d already managed to work you half to death. “You’re in med school, right? Shoko never teaches undergrad.”
“It’s my first semester,” he said with a slight laugh. “It’s harder than I thought it’d be, though. Miss Shoko offered to give me a few pointers, but, y’know—” He sighed, let his head lull back. “I’m starting to think I’m just not smart enough for stuff like this.”
“You shouldn’t say that kind of thing about yourself. You’ve always been—” You cut yourself off with a sudden gasp, clapping your hands together. “If you’re struggling, let me help you study! I have tomorrow off, and I promise, I’m not as strict as Shoko.”
Immediately, he straightened up, your towel still strung around his neck and his smile returned to its full brightness. It only dimmed slightly when he glanced down at his damp shirt. “…there won’t be as much pepper spray this time, right?”
His smile was as contagious as it’d been when he was still a kid, begging you to let him stay up yet another hour past his already-lenient bedtime. Despite his bloodshot eyes and your lingering, only slightly lessened guilt, you found yourself biting back a grin.  
“No pepper spray, this time. I promise.”
~
“Room for one more?”
She glanced over her shoulder as you struggled past the jammed sliding door, taking a moment to evaluate your stiff shoulders and strained smile over the thick frames of her glasses before nodding curtly. Your relief was immediate and all-encompassing. Honestly, you should’ve known better than to do anything but shake your head and flee the country when Yuuji invited you to hang out with a few of his friends, but he’d sworn up and down that it wasn’t a party and promised that you wouldn’t be out of place and pouted in a way you’d never been able to resist. You were starting to think that, no matter how old you got, you’d never learn to say ‘no’ to Yuuji.
The blaring music was only vaguely muffled by the glass, the blurry outlines of other guests playing behind thin curtains. There was a red solo cup in your hand, a lipstick stain on your cheek from a girl who’d passed out half an hour ago, but you were hyper-aware that you were too old to be at a college party with people at least half a decade younger than you, in the best cases. You braced yourself against the balcony railing with a soft groan, crossing your arms and hanging your head low enough to warrant a hum of sympathy from the woman next to you. She held up a box of cigarettes – the cheap kind you and Shoko used to split on the days you had to decide between food and rent – and you accepted her offer with the kind of gratitude you could only assume a starving lion would’ve shown to a limping gazelle.
“Maki,” she said, shaking one into your open palm and fishing a lighter out of her pocket. “You’re one of Itadori’s friends?”
“You could say that.” You let her light you up before taking a shaky drag, the bitter taste a welcome distraction. “I’ve been tutoring him for a few weeks. I think he just invited me as a way to say ‘thank you’.”
Her eyes flashed with recognition, the corner of his lips turning upward for the first time. “You’re the chick who used to babysit him. (Y/n), right?”
“He’s mentioned me?”
“He won’t shut up about you. Every other word out of his mouth is ‘(Y/n) this’ or ‘(Y//n) that’.” She tapped her cigarette against the edge of the railing, sending a few flakes of ash fluttering down to the street below. “Megumi gets it the worst, but we’ve all had to see the fucking pictures.”
“That… that sounds like him.” You forced out a half-hearted laugh, then wavered. “I’m sorry, pictures?”
Maki opened her mouth, but the balcony door was jerked open before she could respond. Yuji appeared in the open entryway, cheeks flushed and grin wide. He drawled your name in a single slur before moving on to more important topics. “We found a—We found a karaoke machine! ‘gumi thinks he can get it running!”
You sent Maki an apologetic look, but she only shrugged, a sliver of a grin. “Better get him tucked in.”
This time, when you smiled back, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
~
It took a month for Yuuji to start ‘forgetting’ his textbooks when he came over for your little study sessions.
It took three for Yuuji to drop the pretense of studying at all – calling you out to some late-night diner or lethargic early-morning café or, better yet, showing up at your apartment door unannounced and empty-handed with only that unnerving smile and a half-baked excuse to spend time with you.
It took six for his hand to drift just a little lower than your shoulder while you watched some awful, b-rated horror movie on your well-beaten couch. You let him reach your waist before clearing your throat and shifting away, your smile pained.
“I… I think you should probably leave,” you half-mumbled, your voice shaking. “It’s getting late.”
“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.” Predictably, Yuuji was undeterred. His persistence used to be endearing, but now, it just felt unfair. “I don’t mind sleeping over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s not like we’ve never spent the night together.”
A nervous laugh, his hand planted just a little too close to your thigh. “I wish you wouldn’t phrase it like—”
“I mean, I know I’m your type.” It was almost impressive, what he could say with such an innocent expression. His free hand found its way to your other side, pinning you between the arm of the couch and his broad chest. “I know you had a thing for Sukuna, and everyone says we’re practically identical. That means you should be into me too, right?”
“Yuuji,” Your eyes darted to your phone, left absent-mindedly on your coffee table. The urge was there, but it wasn’t like he would actually hurt you. He’d always been a sweet kid – a little overzealous, but that wasn’t a crime. This was just… a bad decision, one you had to stop him from making before he did something he’d regret. “Sukuna is my age, and—”
“I don’t care about that.” He cut in swiftly, definitively. His bright eyes had glazed over, catching the dim light of your T.V. as he leaned in further, as his face came to hover less than a full breath away from yours. “I’ve loved you since I was eight. Can Sukuna say that?”
“That’s not—”
“I know you used to fuck him.” His chest was touching yours, now, his breath hot against your skin. “I know you’d fuck him again, if he was here. I know—”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. It was a weak blow, simultaneously hesitant and instinctual, but your open palm made contact with his cheek with a deafening crack, his head snapping to the side and putting that much more distance between his body and yours. He moved to cup his swelling cheek, and you took the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and stumble to your feet. “I think you should leave,” you repeated, the words spat hastily enough to blend together. “Please, Yuuji.”
For a second, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.
Then, he turned to face you, his smile wiped away and his expression so blank, you couldn’t remember how you’d ever looked at him and saw anything other than void.
He didn’t say anything, only pushing himself to his feet and shambling out of your living room. You kept your eyes on the ground until his footsteps faded out of earshot, until you heard the front door creak open and slam shut with enough force to shake the walls.
When you were sure he was gone, you collapsed onto your couch and laid motionless while an actress screamed in the background.
~
“Your golden boy’s asking about you, again.”
You groaned, buckling at the waist and burying your face in your arms. Shoko glanced up from the exams she was grading, but whatever sympathy she might’ve felt apparently didn’t warrant the effort it would’ve taken to reach across the table to comfort you. “Satoru’s been getting it, too,” she went on. “That’s how you know it’s bad. I can’t remember the last time someone managed to talk over that narcissist.”
“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t remember how many times you’d already apologized for Yuuji’s recent fixation. “He’s… probably just worried about his grades, or something.”
Her lips quirked into a frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I was helping him study,” you admitted, reluctantly. As much as Shoko had to hear about your unruly patients and patronizing coworkers, you’d been less open about how much time you were spending with a student fresh out of undergrad. “He’s never been that good with school. I used to have to help him with his homework in elementary school, too.”
This time, she decided your conversation was important enough to earn her full attention. “Itadori’s one of my best students.”
You felt your chest tighten. “But, the first time he came over, you were tutoring—”
She said your name, curt and blunt, and you went quiet. With a sigh, she shook her head, dropping her pen entirely. “When was the last time I offered to personally tutor a struggling student?”
You swallowed dryly. “Never.”
“And when was the last time I gave our full address out to literally anyone?”
“Never,” you said, again. After a second, you added, “Well, there was that one time with Iori…”
“Not the point. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the kid’s a creep. You might have to—”
She was cut off by your phone buzzing against the table. Your eyes scanned over the caller’s name scrawled across the dim screen before moving back to Shoko, her gaze now narrowed into a sharp glare. “Don’t.”
And, for a second, you didn’t. You convinced yourself that you wouldn’t. You told yourself that, after you bought Satoru around of drinks as an apology, you’d do… you’d do something about Yuuji, even if you weren’t sure what you could do, just yet.
Then, you let yourself picture the kid you used to watch for a few dollars an hour while his grandfather was sick and his brother was on the other side of town doing something dubiously legal at best, dead in a ditch at worst – all wide eyes and scuffed elbows and lopsided grins. You let yourself remember the way he’d ramble about his day after you picked him up from school, and how excited he was the first time you made it to one of his school’s sports days, and how he’d clung to you and sobbed the day before his family moved to the other side of the country. At the time, you’d been thankful to have one less responsibility, relieved that you’d never have to see Sukuna again. You’d been selfish, even for a kid.
The phone was in your hand in a moment, the call answered in another. You stood as you brought it to your ear, hoping that would be enough to block out Shoko’s mumbled cursing.
“Yuuji?”
~
The silence in your car was thick, nearly suffocating.
It’d been one of Yuuji’s friends calling from his phone – the dark-haired one with the monotone voice, barely audible over the blaring music of whichever nightclub they were standing outside of. He’d asked you to, in his own words, ‘come get your problem child’, and when you’d asked why Yuuji needed you specifically, he’d only handed the phone back to Yuuji and let you listen to a full minute of whining, your name the only coherent thing to make it off of Yuuji’s tongue. Shoko urged you not to go, and yet, twenty minutes later, Yuuji was slumped over in your passenger seat, his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in an uncharacteristic frown.
He was less talkative than he’d been on the phone. The clingier stages of his inebriation had passed, leaving room for a disassociated sort of passiveness that meant, even if you’d been brave enough to try and start a conversation, his response wouldn’t be anything worth that kind of effort. By the time you reached his apartment complex, the knot sitting at the pit of your stomach was equal parts dread and second-hand embarrassment, but you tried to keep your tone light as you turned to him. “It’s time to get out, Yuuji.” And then, when he failed to move, “You’re on your own from here.”
He looked at you, eyes unfocused and hands folded almost childishly over his lap. You softened more than you should’ve at the sight. “…do you need help getting home?”
A second of thought, a quick nod. You shouldn’t. You knew that you really, really shouldn’t.
And yet, somehow, you found yourself in front of Yuuji’s door, fussing over the lock as Yuuji clung to your side, his face buried in the dip of your shoulder. He was cooperative enough; able to stand on his own with minimum swaying but not so lucid that it took more than a gentle suggestion to lead him to his bedroom, where he was more than happy to collapse onto his unmade bed. With a shaky exhale, you turned to leave, but something caught on your sleeve – Yuuji’s hand, when you could bring yourself to check.
“Stay,” he mumbled, his voice dampened by the sheets his face was buried in. “Please?”
You felt your throat go dry. “I can’t.”
You expected him to go shrill and whiny, but he proved to be a touch more mature than the ten-year-old you used to babysit. Rather flatly, he asked, “Why not?”
How were you supposed to answer that? Would it be good enough to say that you didn’t want to, that you couldn’t spend your night looking after a drunk kid you’d known a decade ago, that you’d already done more than you should’ve just by giving him a ride? Was it worth trying to talk to him at all when he could barely hold his head up? Would it do anything to soften the burn of the bile rising into your throat to point out that, the last time you’d been in the same room as him, he’d tried to—
No, it wasn’t and it wouldn’t and you had to leave. With your heart racing in your chest, you tried to jerk yourself out of his hold, but his vice-grip only grew tighter, his head rising up from the mattress just enough to let him stare at you with those big, bleary eyes. “Why not?”
“Yuuji, this isn’t—”
He was so, so much stronger than he had been, the last time you’d seen each other. One second, you were on your feet, at his bedside, and the next, you were on the floor of his bedroom, forced onto your hands and knees while Yuuji’s body pressed into yours from above. “I love you,” he said, his voice as steady as it’d ever been. “I love you, and I—Fuck—” He panted against the back of your neck, something uncomfortably stiff grinding against your ass. “It makes me so fucking hard when you say my name like that.”
A hand slipped under the hem of your top, his palm pressing into the small of your back. You moved to speak, then thought better of it, biting into your bottom lip as your anxious squirming turned to full-blown struggling. Yuuji only laughed, the noise airy and affectionate, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you that much closer to him – making it that much more impossible to get away. His free hand worked clumsily at your top; drawing it up and over your head. You fought against it at first, but froze the first time you felt something stretch a little too far, heard fabric tear. This couldn’t happen, but you absolutely couldn’t be stranded in Yuuji’s apartment with no clothes and no way out.
With his face buried in the back of your shoulder, he cupped your chest, catching your nipples between his forefinger and thumb and pinching with just enough force to draw a low, strained whimper from the back of your throat. “So cute…” He nuzzled deeper into your neck as his touch drifted. Your skirt was drawn downward – a long piece, something you’d thrown on without much thought – then discarded completely, his own shirt wrestled off in the same motion. You felt his fingertips slip under the hem of your panties, but he pulled away and straightened his back, instead. For a second, you let yourself believe that he’d come to his senses, that whatever sick idea he’d gotten into his head had finally worn off, but the arm wrapped around your waist only drew tighter, hauling you off of the floor and into his arms. You were dropped unceremoniously onto the edge of his bed, and Yuuji sunk onto his knees between your open legs.
“I know you’ve probably slept with other people – aside from my brother, I mean. It’d be nice to find out you haven’t, though.” His tone was distant and dreamy. He was still drunk, but not drunk enough for how he’d been acting earlier. Not drunk enough for what he was doing now. He traced the pad of his thumb over your clothed slit, keeping a hand curled around your ankle to keep you in place. “I used to hear you with Sukuna – in his car, and his room, on the couch after you two thought I’d fallen asleep …” He trailed off into an airy laugh. “He likes to show off – always has. If he wasn’t my brother, I think I’d kill him.”
He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss into the inside of your thigh before shifting his attention to your pussy; his tongue laving over the thin material covering your cunt. You were crying, now, openly and audibly – your choked sobs almost loud enough to block out Yuuji’s quiet groans and pleased grunts. However his obsession might’ve made him think he felt about you, your distress didn’t seem to affect his appetite. Your panties were pulled down your legs and slid into some unseen pocket. With the last barrier between you and him gone, he was free to trace his tongue over your slit, to latch onto your clit and suck in a way that made you want to bury your face in your hands and scream. You tried to – crossing your arms over your face, but any sound you tried to make was quickly strangled into a broken moans as his tongue fucked shallowly into your pussy. It was invasive, disgusting, but your body didn’t care. You felt cunt clench around him as his nose ground into your clit, his need for air irrelevant while he spread you open with his tongue. Your thighs clenched shut, attempting to block him out, but his only response was a reverberating groan – and hand on your thigh encouraging you to squeeze him that much tighter.
You couldn’t tell which you hated more; the unwanted stimulation or the fact that your body was reacting to it, heating up where you needed it to go cold. As he sunk further into you, ate you out like a beast starved, you clenched your eyes and willed yourself to go numb, to ignore the sloppy sound of your slick on Yuuji’s lips. It was useless, though, as futile as trying to ignore him in the first place. Your back arched off the bed, legs twitching where they hung limply over his shoulders, and—
 —and Yuuji pulled away with a sharp gasp. He was on top of you before you could process that he was moving, his mouth crashing into yours before you could think to avoid him. The kiss was brutal, rushed; all teeth and tongue and lips shoved against yours with enough force to bruise. The only hint of tenderness was the soft, satisfied noise he let out as his tongue raked across yours, the bright grin painted across his lips when he drew back from you. “It’s alright.” He brought a hand to your cheek, cupping your face and brushing away tears with his thumb. “I’ve slept with other people too, ‘cause I knew I’d need a little practice to catch up with you. Could never go all the way, though. I just thought about you, and…” He blushed, simpered, like he thought he could pass himself off as the shy, lip-biting schoolboy with your slick coating his chin. “I guess I just didn’t really want anyone else to touch me. Not when I knew I’d see you again.”
A horrified sob bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal in your chest. Yuuji didn’t seem to hear it, only sighing as he pressed a lingering kiss into your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything,” he muttered, his hands falling to your waist. “I want to take care of you, tonight.”
You watched in stunned, paralyzed horror as he pushed himself to his feet, as he hastily worked off his jeans, his boxers (the dark material already notably stained with proof of his arousal). You made one more feeble attempt to squirm out from underneath him, to get away before his attention turned back to you, but confused and betrayed and so, so exhausted, you didn’t stand much of a chance against Yuuji. All he had to do was glance your way, his expression as warm as it was soulless, to leave you helpless against him.
He was eager enough not to reposition you, not to draw this out with the pretense of romance. With one hand on your hip and the other planted near your head, he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance and forced himself into you, bottoming out in a single thrust.
It was agony – pure and unrelenting. Any semblance of gentleness, of restraint fell away as soon as Yuuji was inside of you, as soon as your hyper-sensitive cunt clamped down around his cock. He cursed under his breath before collapsing, his chest pressing into yours as he tried to bury himself that much deeper inside of you, to chase the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. As hard as you tried not to think about Sukuna, Yuuji hadn’t been lying when he said they were alike. He was just as insatiable as his brother had been any time you let him but his hands on you; just as rough in the way his hips ground into yours between sporadic thrusts. There’d been bruises, the next day. At least Sukuna had been the type to make sure he was gone by the time the damage set in. You doubted Yuuji would be so kind.
“I—I’m sorry,” he managed as he buckled into you. Panting against the dip of your shoulder, he took your hips in his hands and dragged your ass of the mattress, his brutal pace stuttering as he found a new angle to abuse. “Next time—I’ll be gentle next time, I just need to—”
His cock hit something soft and sensitive inside of you. Reflexively, your hands shot to his back, your nails finding skin and tearing. The moan Yuuji let out in response was nothing short of sinful; hitched and guttural, ragged and loud enough to block out the wet, slick sound of his cock pumping into your cunt. “M—” His hand wraps around your thigh, catching you under the knee and dragging it towards your chest, letting him fuck into you that much deeper, that much faster. His face never left the crook of your neck, as if he was afraid to give you space to breathe. “Mommy, ‘m sorry, I need to—”
His teeth sunk into your throat as something hot and thick flooded into your cunt, as your body went stiff and your vision burned white. While his climax was sudden, intense, the peak to a decade’s worth of patience, yours had to be dragged out of you despite your attempts to hold it back, to deny yourself pleasure in the vain hope that it’d somehow be able to convince Yuuji to stop what he’d already finished. It seemed to hold you there in that state of dark, distorted euphoria for minutes – Yuuji’s movements turning slow and languid as he nursed you through your orgasm.
Eventually, mercifully, he went still, going limp above you with his canines still planted in the curve of your neck. If there was any pain, any other unwanted burdens he could force onto you, you were too lost in your own despair to notice, too distant to feel anything other than the mildest tinge of dread as he pulled back, raising his head just far enough to stare down at you, adoration heavy in his eyes and his grin wide and love-struck.
A small, naïve part of you found the sight suffocatingly familiar, while the rest could almost convince itself that you were looking at a stranger.
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luveline · 7 months
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hiiii jade! i absolutely adore your writing, and when i saw you might be taking blurb requests i had to jump on it lol
can i request maybe a little blurb where reader goes to pick up her bf remus at the airport after a long time apart/being long distance for several months?
i hope thats not too specific, and please feel free to ignore it if it doesn't inspire you!
thanks gorgeous!
You might have worried that a long separation would make things fall apart. Remus would want things you couldn't offer over the phone, or he'd find someone at his university that was more interesting, but one conversation kept you going, one confession. 
If you can't do it, I won't go, he'd said. 
You hadn't known what he meant at first, still mulling over the idea of his being away for so long. What?
It wasn't fathomable. It was everything he'd ever worked toward, the peak of his career, the culmination of all his successes. You honestly thought before he said it that you wouldn't have a choice. Either you had to make it work for you or he'd leave you to live his life. 
But no. If it means we won't last, I won't go, he'd clarified, looking you in the eye, his lips hooked into one of his fond smiles. You're more to me than any of it. If we can't stretch the distance, I'll stay home. I'm happy to stay home. 
Obviously, he had to go. But it's a lot to know you're loved like that, so deeply he'd give up everything he worked for just to keep you. You'd never make him choose, and hence began the longest, most heart-breaking five months of your life. Every time you were supposed to visit him plans fell through. Each time he tried to come back there were things to do. But you know he got on his plane home, and you're pretty sure you know which escalator he's going to come down. You wait at the bottom of it, waiting, waiting. You start to worry he's somewhere else. 
"You come here often?" a warm voice asks from beside you. 
You flinch. "That's not funny!" you hiss, but then you get a good look at him and have to fight to stave off tears. Remus stands next to you, suitcase to his left, backpack weighing down his shoulders. He looks tired, but excitement lightens his eyes. 
Five months you will never, ever get back, and Remus is still so handsome. 
"Dove," he says. You almost forgot how he says it, like it's yours alone to be called. "Lovely, come here." 
You step into his arms: too much, too rough, almost chinning him as he grabs you. "Remus," you say in a gasp, startled as he bends back under your weight and your heels rise off of the floor. "Don't! Don't do that, I'm gonna crush you." 
He sets you back down carefully, but he doesn't say much, and he certainly doesn't let you go. You don't notice his quiet at first. You're too busy being selfish, soaking in the realness of his arms, the rigidity of his biceps and his forearms wrapped around you. 
"Was your flight okay?" you ask, tipping your head back. 
"It was fine." A silver shine of tears nestles between his soft lashes. "It felt long." 
"Don't cry," you say, again startled. "Remus, don't be upset. I'll start crying too and then we'll be that couple who cries on each other at the airport." 
He smiles and a tear rolls down his cheek. "I missed you. What was I thinking? What was I," —he scrubs at his eyes roughly— "thinking, I could be away from you that long?" 
You wipe his eyes much more gently. "I love you." 
"I love you too," he says, leaning down for a kiss. 
Your first kiss in five months has a lot to live upto. You'd been the one crying as you said goodbye at the airport, and Remus had left you with a kiss to remember, firm and sweet with his hands on either side of your face, as if to say, everything will be alright. 
You have to do the reassuring now. You weave your fingers into the soft mop of his sandy brown hair, his gentle curls, brushing them away from his cheek as you kiss him. It's definitely too open of a kiss for a public place and you're both prone to shyness, so after a few stolen seconds of heat you break the kiss to hide your face in his collar. 
"Please don't go away again." 
Remus laughs and sniffles. "No. I don't think I'd survive it." 
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bitterchocoo · 5 months
Note
Hello!! Before I leave a request, I would like to ask how are you doing? Are you sleeping well? I also want to say that I really liked the fic with Jin Yuan!! Thank you very much!
Regarding my request! -What about Argenti with the Knight of Beauty! Reader? I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time, but only now am I deciding to write!
It's the same as always - if you don't like it, ignore it!
(I apologize for any mistakes if there are any)
-Anon 🌾
Beauty in All
Argenti | M. Reader
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"Although my sleep schedule's a mess, I'm a-okay! When I read your request I was taken aback because I actually was thinking of writing for him. Did you read my mind?"
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"You're so beautiful!"
"So handsome!"
"You're very pretty!"
"You look like a doll!"
Those are the worlds he constantly hears, all those compliments, those honeyed, flowery words. So sweet he could have diabetes. They always compliment him on his looks, how elegant he is.
They asked him---no, bombarded him with questions.
"What's your skincare routine?"
"What shampo do you use?"
"Do you use make up?"
And the questions goes on and on with no end to it.
Of course he doesn't deny it either. He knows he's beautiful.
But is beauty all that matters?
They say "I love you" they say "I think I'm in love with you." But is all of that true? At first he was flattered but as time goes on, he began to believe their nothing but lies. They love him yes but do they truly love him? Or are they simply obsessed?
It's clear that they only see him as a doll meant to be placed inside a glass case. To admire.
He's not human to them, but a doll.
When he met Argenti, he was simply indifferent to the other's flowery words. They're mere flattery after all. He didn't mean it... not one bit.. Even though he smiles and thanked him for the gifts, flowers, and compliments. He can't help but feel a little... angry.
Who does he think he is? Some doll he could play with? So what? He's going to leave him once he's bored? Is that it!? He's merely an entertainment for him?! When the Knight said those words with a charming smile. Doubt began to cloud his mind. Is he truly sincere?
.
.
.
.
.
He wanted to believe him... he truly wanted to believe him...
But...
"I love you, my dove." The Knight said sweetly as he gave a charming smile.
What a wonderful, loving, and gentle smile... and it was directed to him too... and yet...
"Argenti.." He began slowly as he looks at the other with a stern expression. "Please focus on the mission." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose as if he's trying to get rid of a growing headache. Unlike the rest of the Knights of Beauty [Name] doesn't do any fighting, instead... he's their navigator.
How should those hooligans know where to go without a navigator? They'll be lost in space! Floating in the endless vast of the universe.
Honestly... it's almost as if he's the only one with a brain amongst their blind worship. Yes he's with the Knights of Beauty... Yes [Name] worships Idrila... but he knew for a fact that their Aeon has fallen... if she is how benevolent as the others claimed it to be.. then wouldn't she be answering their calls then? Answering their worship?
Sometimes he wished he could lend the other Knights his thoughts, and... sometimes he hopes for a savior to come, one that got what it takes to convince everyone. To let them see. They could worship her yes, heck! [Name] still worships her even after he knows the truth! But... to blindly follow her Path? To blindly put your own life in danger? For someone who had longed past?
"You're next destination is close to Penacony so..." He began to brief Argenti on his next "expedition."
.
.
.
.
.
....How could this happen..?
This isn't supposed to happen... HOW IN THE AEONS NAME DID THEY GOT EATEN BY THE GIANT STING!?!? AND HOW DID HE GOT ROPED INTO ALL OF THIS?!
Without much to do... he merely sticks with Mr. Yang and Miss Himeko as [Name] isn't that much of a fighter himself. He applaud Miss Himeko for being able to do so. As a fellow navigator, she earned his respect.
As the crew continue to investigate they soon discovered Juvenile Stings, and Lesser Stings inside the train. At one point, [Name] was caught in the crossfire.
Just his luck, huh..?
Argenti... being the "Knight in shining armor" he is... decided to put it upon himself in treating his lovely navigator.
The two didn't say a word as [Name] let Argenti treat his wounds. The once smooth skin now turned bloody. Looks like he won't be receiving any more compliments after this... and just like that... he'll be left to rot as their "toy" is now damaged and had lost it's appeal..
Then after a long silence, [Name] spoke up in a quiet tone. A question. One that's been plaguing his mind ever since the Knight confessed his love to him. "Argenti... will you still love me... when I'm no longer young and beautiful..?"
At first, Argenti was taken aback by the sudden question as his smile falters but soon, his smile returns to his face. Even more gentle and loving than before. "Of course, there's beauty in everything. The sight of you being old and wrinkly... your hair that had turned white..."
"It's a look that makes you feel the traditional and history. Even if you were covered in mud, or turning into an old and thin appearance..."
"It's not just the outside, but also the inside... you will grow and become more wiser..."
"It's proof of how time makes you even more beautiful."
"Beauty isn't just about the outside.. but also on the inside.."
"There's beauty in all."
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
Hey luv!! Saw your requests open and was curious if could do modern au w poly!marauders and nonbinary!reader who wants and gets top surgery. If not thats okay, just ignore!! 💋
Hi! As always with these, I have limited knowledge so please lmk if there's any inaccuracies or insensitivities! I'd be happy to fix them :) And thank you for requesting sweetheart <33
cw: reader is recovering from major surgery, vaguely suggestive (but barely)
poly!marauders x nb!reader ♡ 864 words
James hops over the back of the couch as soon as you and Remus get in the door, instantly assailing you with tenderness. 
“How’d the appointment go?” he asks, providing a hand you don’t really need to go sit down on the couch. 
“Good,” you say honestly. You can hear Sirius coming down the stairs a second before he appears, giving you a quick up-down to assess your state before grinning at you. 
“Feeling good?” 
You laugh. “Yeah,” you reiterate, “it went well.” 
Remus chuckles, passing a sympathetic hand over your head as he rounds the couch to sag into the armchair. Your boyfriends are infinitely sweet in their attentions, but they’ve been treating your first post-op appointment like it’s Christmas. 
“So, is it off?” Sirius asks eagerly. 
You smile, nodding. “The vest is off, but I’ve still got the bandages until probably next week.” 
James’ knee immediately sets to bouncing as he takes a seat beside you. “Can we see?” 
“I’ve already seen,” Remus says smugly. 
James’ excitement fizzes in the air around you, and Sirius stalks toward you with purpose. A familiar tingle of apprehension skips over your skin as he leaps upon you, planting a knee on either side of your hips to keep from actually putting any of his weight on your lap. The couch springs groan in protest. Remus echoes them. 
“If you break our furniture, you’re buying the new stuff,” he warns. 
Sirius ignores him, fingering the button at the collar of your shirt. “May I?”
“Only if you quit flirting with me,” you say. 
“Christ,” James’ head lolls back on the couch cushion, “with those terms, we’ll never get to see.” 
But Sirius is already undoing your top, slender figures making quick work of the buttons before he’s opening it up. You let the sleeves fall down your shoulders, unable to tamp down your own smile at the sight of your torso. 
“Fuck, baby,” Sirius breathes, running his thumb along the skin just underneath the bandages. Even though he’d seen your chest back at the doctor’s office, Remus leans forward in his chair to peek around James. “You look so good.” 
“I said no flirting,” you try to joke, but his eyes are earnest when they meet yours. 
“I mean it,” he says. 
Your face heats, a pleasant warmth blooming behind the bandages. 
“You really do,” James agrees. He’s looking from your chest to your face like he’s matching them up in his head. “You’re so perfect like this, angel.” 
You smile at him. “You’ve always said that, Jamie.” 
“I have,” he admits. “I mean, you’ve always been perfect, but you’re so you now, it’s like…” His smile unfurls, beatific, and your face scrunches up in apprehension a second before his smacking kiss lands on your cheek. “You’re perfecter than perfect.” 
“Cheesy,” you diagnose, the warmth of your skin increasing. “But thank you, sweetheart.” 
“Mm, you don’t look like you think it’s cheesy,” Sirius says, cupping the back of your neck and grinning at the heat he finds there. “You look quite pleased, actually.” 
“I can be both,” you counter. 
“I like seeing you this pleased.” James presses another, gentler, kiss to your temple. “You’ve seemed so happy since the surgery. I feel like I didn’t realize what we were missing out on before.” 
You tilt your head back against the cushions, looking at him. “Have I really?” You’ve certainly felt happier, but most of the time since your surgery has been spent in bed, alternately asking your boyfriends for help and complaining about how much help you need. 
James looks surprised you’d even ask, and Remus says, “Of course, dove. You carry yourself so differently, you thought we wouldn’t notice?” 
You feel your lips quirk, imagining yourself hobbling around during the walks James had forced you to go on because the doctor recommended it. “You mean like an elderly person?” 
“He means like a sure person,” Sirius says, and his gaze could melt you to the bone as it rakes from your chest up to your face. “You seem more at home in yourself.” He grins crookedly. “It’s hot.” 
“Easy.” James gives Sirius’ shoulder a little nudge. “They’re still not cleared for any of your depravities.” 
“Don’t know what you mean,” Sirius murmurs, bending to smear a kiss over the corner of your mouth. “Also, they haven’t said that yet. What did they say during your appointment, baby?” 
“I doubt that would fall under the list of sanctioned activities.” You’re unable to keep the tinge of giddiness from your voice, and your dastardly boyfriend grins at hearing it. “I’m still not allowed to do much. I thought I’d be able to shower this week, but no.” 
Sirius lights up at the last bit, and you narrow your eyes. Remus groans. 
“What?” you ask. 
“Now you’ve done it,” Remus says, managing to sound completely exasperated despite the humor in his eyes. 
“What?” you repeat, alarm increasing as Sirius’ grin spreads. 
James pats your shoulder consolingly, seeming to have also caught onto whatever’s made your boyfriend so happy. 
“I’ve found the perfect solution to our problem, sweetpea,” Sirius says, tone already wheedling. “I’ll just give you sponge baths.”
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 5 months
Note
Howdy, going through a phase with COD men (König my 6'10 BBG) and they would make such good Yandere husbands, would it be okay to request a Yandere military man who's completely delusional about a hostage he rescued? knife play and being stepped on with a tactical boot would be a bonus <3
btw the way you write dark content scratches such a specific itch and makes me want to wail, the yandere pirate story was *chef Kissssssss*
Honestly, the only thing I know about COD is that I kick ass at zombies lol so this is definitely just an oc
Yandere!Military Man x Hostage!Reader
CW: non-con, mention of death, assault, delusional ideation, dehumanizing language, dead dove
"Esteemed journalist (Reader L/N) has gone missing while covering the.."
The radio was drowned out by the vehicle hitting a rock, earning an aggravated groan from one of the men. Angrily, he slammed his fist on the dash board, as though he could intimidate the radio into working better. A couple of his brothers chuckled while the rookie squirmed nervously in his seat.
"Fucking, shit ass-" Adrian "Clank" Muigg muttered, quietly releasing a stream of curses in a very thick accent towards the machine.
(Most nicknames in the military were neither cool, nor had a badass backstory, most had fairly humorous or demeaning origins; Muigg, fresh out of boot camp, murdered an innocent television set in an attempt to fix it, which changed his name from "Big Bastard" to "Clank".)
The youngest man there prayed he wasn't visibly sweating. "Is everything alright, sir?"
Boston, the bushy browed man at the wheel, laughed with his entire chest. "That radio lady's talking 'bout the love of Clank's life!"
Clank felt the back of his neck heat up, and had to redirect his anger into tapping his foot to prevent himself from whacking Boston.
"I didn't know you had a partner?"
"He don't! HA! It's a one-sided, puppy love!" Boston joyfully mocked his best mate. "He's got that reporter-person's picture 'bove his bed, and has every article they've ever written. It's very sweet!"
Bright blue eyes warned Boston of the danger he was playing with, but Boston payed him no mind, causing more anxiety in the new recruit.
It was true, however, that Clank had a star struck crush on the journalist. They were brave in a way Clank hadn't seen before, the kind of bravery that made an unarmed civilian put their life in danger to expose the world to the horrors of war. This wasn't the first warzone (Reader) had willingly gone into, but it was the first time their mission overlapped with Clank's.
They were covering the battle Clank was involved in.
And it enraged him.
While their bravery is what initially drew him to them and their work, the longer he followed (Reader) the harder it got for him to read about the danger they got into. Weren't they fearful for their own life?? Why didn't they care for themselves as much as he cared for them??
The nearly six foot eight man had fantasized many times about what he would say and do if he got the opportunity to meet (Reader). He had an entire monologue prepared that exemplified his adoration for their work without ousting himself as a borderline obsessive fanboy.
However, that entire speech was forgotten when Clank burst into the room three hostages were being held in after killing the hostiles within the building, and found himself face to face with (Reader) in the flesh.
They stood defiantly, arms outstretched to protect the two other reporters behind them, not even wearing a bullet proof vest, ready to sacrifice themselves to save their coworkers.
Clank lowered his weapon, numbed by the sudden influx of confusing, and conflicting, emotions.
He was hurt, because he finally got to meet (Reader), and they were prepared for him to kill them.
He was enamored, because even with dirt clogging their pores, hair matted with sweat and drying blood, skin bruising and swollen, they were still the single most radiant being he had ever laid eyes upon.
And he was angry. Why wasn't (Reader) cowering like a good little civilian? Didn't they know that they could die? Why didn't they care about their life?
"I'm here to rescue you." Clank's voice was robotic, and unattached. It didn't feel like he was the one saying it, as the three frightened adults relaxed, scrambling over to his side. "Follow me."
He watched his object of affection as they obliviously helped lead the other two hostages down the stairs to the military vehicle. Their right eye was nearly swollen shut, but they were supporting a grown ass man with a slight limp. Clank imagined blowing the man's brains out.
As they made it down to where the group could see Clank's team, (Reader) released their friend and attempted to go back up the stairs. Still experiencing his out of body conundrum, Clank grabbed their arm forcefully, hard enough to earn a yelp from his favorite celebrity.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He seethed, hissing the question between his clenched teeth to prevent himself from screaming it. The other two greedily ran outside to Boston's embrace, leaving them alone in the building.
"My footage, they kept it upstairs." Professional as always, the diligent champion of justice kept calm despite the feeling as though their arm would snap in Clank's fist.
"That is not important!"
"You don't know what I saw! It is, and I need the evidence, the proof, of what I saw!"
"Clank, where are you?" Boston's voice on Clank's radio distracted him enough for (Reader) to snake out of his grasp, bolting back up into the building.
"Shit-!" He pulled out his walkie as he ran up behind the surprisingly quick journalist. "Everything's good, I'll be down in a few minutes, start taking the others back."
"Uh, no? Excuse me-"
"That's an order."
"Clank-"
"I said; that's an order."
The violently pissed off man holstered his radio as he charged up the stairs three steps at a time.
His precious (Reader) had taken it too far this time.
Even if they didn't care about their own life, he cared. He loved them, adored them, worshipped them, so how fucking dare they continuously put their life in danger like this?
If they were to be wed one day, their life would be his. And that was downright disrespectful.
(Reader) could be heard rifling through cabinets and cupboards through the door of the first room on the floor above the one they were held prisoner on. Clank attempted to cool his rage before entering, wishing to not scare his future spouse again.
Glancing up only briefly, the adult of smaller stature offered a meak smile before going back to searching. "I'm sorry for that.. I don't mean to make your job difficult, but this is really important. We almost died for this footage; hell, LeDoux had his knee cracked open by one of those- his knee must be killing him."
-almost died-
-almost died-
Their words repeating in Clank's eardrums played over the exclamation of (Reader) finding their equipment. (Reader) almost died, for what? Nothing was more important than their life.
"I'm sorry?" Bloodshot eyes stared wide with confusion from under pursed eyebrows.
Without realizing it, Clank had spoken his thoughts out loud. But, perhaps this was for the best. They would have to learn the truth sooner or later. "Nothing is worth your life." He doubled down as he slowly approached (Reader).
It took a lot more energy forcing himself to smile than he wanted. Clank had never been so stressed or angry or conflicted in his entire life.
"That isn't for you to say." Sharp words responded with a huff, thrusting the camera into a duffel bag.
Clank released a humorless laugh. "You are like a small dog, aren't you, my dear?" His muscles were tensing under his uniform, and although (Reader) couldn't see it, they could feel the dangerous shift in his mannerisms. "You do not know of the danger you are in, so you bark loudly."
Although a pit of fear weighed down their stomach, the much weaker of the two hid it well, scoffing, and moving to stroll past Clank, praying that he was bluffing.
A harsh slap to their cheek confirmed that he was being serious, sending the already injured (Reader) to the floor.
Before they could scramble to their feet, a heavy, steel toed boot was placed firmly on their chest, pressing the air out of their lungs.
(Reader) could feel the blood rush to their head as they struggled to breath.
Clawing at Clank's shin and calf didn't move him.
"It is not your fault, that you are such a little dog. But, like all little dogs, you must be trained. Yes?"
Not a single word could be uttered. Black spots bounced around (Reader's) vision.
Clank eased up on the pressure just enough for oxygen to fill his love's deprived lungs. Between coughs and sputters, (Reader) only got out "Stop-" before his heel was digging into their sternum again.
"Tsk tsk tsk.. Now, I don't want to do this, but I have to. For us. So you must obey me, little puppy. Now, what do dogs say?"
(Reader) glared up at him in pain and hatred, sneering as angry tears welled up in their puffy eyes.
"Woof.." The pitiful bark was spat out.
"Ah ah ah." He wagged a finger at them in a chastising fashion. "Be nice, little puppy." His weight increased warningly, squeezing out a pained cry.
".. Woof."
Seeing the person Clank had loved for the past four years under his boot, writhing, flushed in the face, glistening eyes staring up at him and only him.. Clank could feel himself stiffening, and it disturbed him. Why did seeing his beloved cry in pain give him a hard on?
No, it is not because they are crying in pain.
Clank smiled, warping the situation to rationalize his hard cock pressing against his zipper. It was that they were being obedient for him.
Another cry rang out, louder this time, as Clank accidentally put too much weight on (Reader's) ribcage, lost in thought while admiring their pathetic face.
He got off, kneeling down so (Reader) wouldn't think about trying to get up. They got the message, and continued lying, grasping their chest and breathing raggedly.
"Good dog." Clank ran a hand through their hair. "You will listen to what I say, won't you?"
"Ye- ...woof." Their words quivered in shame.
"Good. Now, get on your knees."
(Reader) bit their tongue with how quickly their mouth clamped shut. It was humiliating, but their chest hurt so badly.. They rolled over, propping themselves up onto their hands and knees.
Their resolve to do as Clank said to avoid more pain was immediately forgotten when they felt his large hands tug at their pants.
"What are you doing?" They yelled in fright, whipping their head back to look at him before having their skull smashed into the floor, holding them down.
"Training, remember? For someone known for their intelligence, you sure are a moron. Bark, bitch."
Tears mixed in with snot, as (Reader) snarled "Fuck you!"
Clank removed his hand from their soft hair to firmly grasp their hips with both of his hands, pulling (Reader) onto his dick. "Incorrect."
"No!" (Reader) screamed, feeling Clank's bare member as it entered them painfully all in one thrust without lubrication. As they cried out, a slap to their ass rang out through the nearly empty room.
"What do dogs say?"
"Fuck you!" Another painful slap left a welt that would certainly bruise.
"You want to act like a bitch, putting your life in danger as though it doesn't matter, you're going to be treated like a bitch!" Clank raised his voice, terrifying his victim. "Now, what do dogs say?"
Slap!
"Woof.."
Slap!
"Woof! Woof! Bark!" They barked between viciously sobbing, heaving as he ravaged them from behind, fucking them so hard that their entire body rocked forward dangerously. The only reason why they hadn't fallen face first into the cement flooring was Clank's right hand digging painfully into their pelvis.
Whereas for (Reader) this was a nightmare, joy was already melting away Clank's anger.
"See, this will be better, for both of us. When we get back, you'll quit your job, and I can finally take care of you."
His thrusting became more passionate, and (Reader) could feel his precum as he began to slide in and out more easily. "I've dreamt of this for so long, and now I will finally be yours: whether as your husband or as your owner."
That triggered (Reader's) fight or fight response, realizing what Clank was implying. They attempted to throw themselves forward, to scramble away while he was still inside of them.
A strong arm caught (Reader) easily. Their spine was bent backwards, holding the attempted escapee in a head lock with a knife pressed to their throat as Clank continued stretching out their hole.
Despite their desperate pleas, their new fiance held (Reader) still on his cock as he released inside of them, going drunk on the way their walls felt clenching him as they milked him dry.
Eyes hazy with lust, he kissed their jaw, still keeping the knife held firmly against their neck just in case.
"Good dog."
A/N: I'm sorry it took so long! Thank you so much for your patience, I hope you like it ❤️
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hobiebrownismygod · 3 months
Text
Forgotten Girl Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader Part 2/2!
A/N Sorry this took so long 😭 I've been pretty busy.
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He hadn't spoken to you in weeks. In fact, Hobie didn't think he'd even seen you around much after your last conversation. You were always so slippery, avoiding him every time he tried to come talk to you and heading out on missions almost every hour of every day.
He didn't understand why you were being so distant. Well, the two of you had never been friends friends, never been as buddy-buddy as he was with Gwen and Pavitr, but he always had liked you. He thought you were sweet, kind, the all-around good girl that he could start up a conversation with every once in a while.
And now he couldn't help but a feel a little put-off by the way you were acting. After all, if it was just slipping away, he wouldn't mind as much...but you were also being so snarky.
Giving him bored looks when he tried to start up small-talk (conversation which he absolutely hated by the way, he only did it so he could try to figure out what was going on with you), being louder, no longer as quiet as you'd been whenever he was around before, and best of all...you were funny. He couldn't even remember you making a real joke, a sarcastic, fiery one around him before...until now.
And if he was being honest...he liked it.
He liked this you.
It was like you were finally being your real self, the one he'd heard about from your friends and other Spider-people, and even if this personality wasn't the sort he was used to from you, it was still fun to see.
"Oi!" he grabbed your arm as you attempted to walk past him, your eyes dead set forward as if you didn't even see him. "Where'ya off to?"
"Nowhere important" You replied normally, looking up at him. Seeing him staring down at you, a coy smile on his face, made your heart wrench slightly. But you'd already given up. There was no point.
"Nowhere? But you're waddling away so quickly" he teased, leaning down slightly so his eyes met yours. When you didn't respond, his smile faded slightly and he cleared his throat, standing up straight.
"Have you been avoidin' me these past weeks?" He asked abruptly.
Your eyes widened slightly and you immediately scoffed and pushed his hand off your arm. "Not everything's about you, you know" You said, biting the inside of your cheek.
"Oh?" He asked with a laugh. "Someone's gotten snarky, 'aven't dey?" His accent thickened slightly as he stood back, searching for a way to get you to stay. "Come on, dove, jus tell me where you're going!"
"Miguel called me for another mission" You said, folding your arms over your chest.
"You going with anyone?" he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side.
"Why's it matter to you?" You asked with a slight smile.
He shrugged. "Maybe I want to come with you."
"To...?"
"No reason. Just tagging along." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking to the side. "Just haven't talked to you in a while s'all"
"Aww, did you miss talking to me?" You teased, "I never knew our little convos mattered so much to you"
"They did." He admitted, a little more solemnly. He hesitated for a moment, taking a breath before explaining, "Look, dove, I like you, alright? I really do. And honestly?" He smiled, leaning in slightly again. "I missed you a little bit." He pinched his fingers together in front of you, taking your hand. "Just a little."
You felt your face heat up slightly and you immediately looked away. "I never knew that." You said quietly. You'd always thought you were more of a burden to him. That he never noticed you or that you just weren't noticeable. Yet apparently...he did notice you. More than he'd admitted.
"Really? Thought I was making it obvious...always talking to you and shit" He said with a raised brow. "Was the small-talk not plain enough?"
You chuckled, looking up at him with a grin. "The small-talk was horrific."
"That was the goal" He winked, pulling you in a little closer. "I think I like seeing you like this. All smiley and fun."
"Really?" You asked, smile fading slightly as a feeling of warmth began bubbling in your chest. "I'm fun like this?"
"I mean the whole 'sweet', 'quiet' look suited you fine, yeah, but I think you're a lot more interesting when you're open with me, darling" He chuckled, pressing his lips gently to the palm of your hand.
You smiled. So...you weren't as much of a burden as you'd thought you were.
Why had you even stayed hiding your real personality from him all these months? You'd expected him to not like you, to think you were too loud, too annoying. That's what you'd been told before.
But it seemed like the reason your little antics hadn't been working was because they weren't real. They weren't the real you.
And now that you were showing him the real you...well it just felt better, both to him and to you.
You were snapped out of your thoughts, eyes widening as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, holding it in his rather large palm.
He hesitated at your action, pulling his head back slightly. "I'm not moving too fast, am I?" He asked awkwardly.
Suddenly, you pulled him into a needed hug, burying your face in his chest and taking him by surprise. He stumbled back slightly, not having expected it. It took him a moment to adjust before returning the hug, patting your back gently. "Dove?"
"I think I've waited long enough" you mumbled with a smile, looking up into his eyes with your arms still wrapped tightly around him. "So let's speed things up, yeah?"
100 notes · View notes
shadow1515 · 1 month
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Too Sweet
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Pairing: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard/Female, Surface Reader Word Count: 5,138 Warnings: a lot, rape/non-con, older man (he’s a zombie basically)/younger woman (reader is 20), monster fucking, size kink, rough sex, gun play, blood kink, glove kink?, loss of virginity, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie Summary: Your father dead, brother gone in search for his killers, mother gone in search for him, you were left alone in the wilderness. You thought you knew how to take care of yourself, but that idea is challenged when a certain ghoul in a cowboy hat shows up at your dining room table. Tags: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. READ THE WARNINGS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. Please, read the warnings, if any of this triggers you do not continue!!!!!!!!!! Note: first post here, but i also posted on ao3 where i have posted fics before... just... bear with me, the brain rot was real for this one. I have never written anything at this level of depravity but this yucky looking man without a nose took hold of me and I had to write this. I did most of it when I should have been studying for a quiz, but it's fineeeee. Anyway, please enjoy this 5k word piece of filth that was only read through once…… (And yes the title is based off Hozier’s song Too Sweet.)
You were born and raised on the surface with its sandy horizons and burning sun, but your life was definitely better than most others who live on the surface of this godforsaken world. Your parents had found a nice place with tons of supplies, the ability to grow plants, a water filter, and it was hidden fairly well. You weren’t entirely sure how they had found such a haven in the wasteland, but honestly you couldn’t complain too much. Alongside your older brother, you grew up knowing how to grow your own food, hunt, defend yourself, create booby traps, the normal things every kid grew up learning. You were also one of the lucky few that was taught how to read and write as your mother had been taught by her parents and passed it onto you and your brother, something you were forever grateful for. 
Books were a solace for you, one of the few you could find, especially after your brother ran off to god knows where and your mother went off in search of him just a few months ago. After your father passed away three years ago, your brother felt it necessary to be the “man of the house” and make sure you and your mother were taken care of. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for his protection and watchful eye, but he could be a little extreme at times. Your father died just over a year ago, and it was hard on all of you. Perhaps your brother took it a bit harder since he never showed his sadness about it… only his anger. See, your father was killed by some raiders on one of his outings to get more supplies. Your brother was with him when it happened but managed to escape. You were almost one hundred percent sure that was where your brother had gone; looking for your father’s killers.
Unfortunately, that had been just over four months ago. A few days ago your mother grew sick of it and went to try and find your brother, leaving you all alone. You knew how to protect yourself and make sure the house was protected and hidden, but that didn’t mean you liked being alone or that you didn’t worry every day about your missing family. In fact, it made it worse.
You felt your patience and sanity wearing thin as the days went on and you heard nothing from your mother or brother. You were worried sick, the only things keeping you from running off by yourself were tending to the farm and the chickens, checking on the water filter, reading your books, really anything to distract you from the inevitable truth;that your family was dead. 
One day, you were out tending to the livestock and farms for most of the day. It was starting to get dark and mostly everything was done, so it was about time to head inside for the night. As soon as you opened the door, you could tell something was off. Maybe it was the slightly larger, sandy footprints through the hallway, or the way that everything around you seemed to stand still, either way you knew something was wrong. Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough. Even with your added paranoia from being alone for a few days, your reflexes couldn’t have prepared you enough for the sight of a man… no, a ghoul, lounging at your dining table. Seat pulled back, feet on the table, fingers lazily playing with the trigger of the sawed off shotgun that was pointed directly at you. 
Part of his face was obscured by a ragged hat, but you could still tell that he was a ghoul, his face covered in scars, red and shiny from the radiation. He slowly lifted his head, dark eyes shining in the setting sun streaming through the window, the black hole where his nose should have been even more prominent as his gaze slowly trailed from your muddy boots up your bare legs (you wanted to wear shorts, it was hot out), across your curves until they finally landed on your face, lingering on your parted lips for a moment too long in your opinion. 
Your eyes, on the other hand, kept on moving between his ruined face to the gun pointed at you in quick succession, not knowing which to focus on more. Before you could think of doing anything else, he finally spoke.
“Well, sweetheart, seems you found yourself in quite the predicament here.” The words roll off his tongue easily, like they were practiced, used, normal for him to utter. That nickname too, so antagonizing and belittling with just two syllables. It made your blood boil… not like that… right?
You attempted to speak, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, your eyes still flicking between the barrel of the gun and the ruined face before you. Your very apparent lack of thoughts and speech only made the ghoul chuckle. It was a deep sound, like a rumble of the earth during a thunderstorm, the vibrations running all through your body, unyielding to the forces that surround you. 
“Cat got your tongue, darlin’?”
The question was not meant to be answered, in fact it made all semblance of words leave your mouth entirely. He stood up then, the spurs on his boots startling you as he took step after step closer to you, the gun in his hand hanging loosely at his side. At first, you didn’t move, but as he got closer, you took a fearful step back, not realizing until it was too late that he maneuvered you in such a way as he was getting closer so now your back was flush against the wall. The ghoul was close now, too close, so close you could feel his body heat, the stench of his breath from his yellowed mouth, the gunpowder and cigarettes and booze that lingered on him like a haze after a fire. He was terrifying. 
You let out a pathetic squeak as the end of his shotgun found its place underneath your chin, tilting your head up to make sure you looked him directly in the eyes. His eyes weren’t an evil yellow or filled with contempt, they were a deep brown, a soft brown, and they were filled with an emotion you really could not place. The position you were in was compromising, with his face inches from your own (his hips inches from your own). And that look in his eyes. Why couldn’t you figure it out?
The cool metal of the gun felt as if it was burning you as he tipped your head back just a bit more, his dark eyes focused on yours, “Ain’t you just a sweet little thing, all alone, no way of protectin’ yourself.” You did have a way of protecting yourself, it was called booby traps that he somehow managed to get by, but you bit your tongue. 
“What do you want with me?” You managed to speak that one question that was burning in your mind in spite of the shivers of fear that ran down your spine as your chin moved the shotgun touching it.
At that little comment from you, the ghoul smirked like the bastard he was, “Well you see, missy,” You felt a surge of relief followed quickly by terror again as the gun left your chin only to trail down your neck and land on the collar of your tank top, a collar that was already pretty low cut (again, it was hot). The barrel caught in the fabric as he continued to speak, “I have it on good information that this little abode of yours happens to also be the home of a stupid boy who crossed paths with the wrong man.”
Your heart sank. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Your fucking brother, off doing who knows what, stirring up the worst kind of trouble. He wanted to avenge your father, you knew that, but did he not think? Of course he didn’t. He thought it would be all unicorns and daisies as he tracked down a pack of murderers. Why would he think twice about the trouble that would bring onto you?
“Look, I–” You gave a dry swallow as the gun at your chest pushed further beneath your shirt, just shy away from tugging it to the side and taking a peek. “You’re looking for my brother, right? I-I don’t know where he is. He left months ago and then my mother–” You cut yourself off, you didn’t want your mother caught up as this bounty hunter’s prey as well.
The ghoul cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving your face even as the gun moved the fabric of your tank top to the side, your cleavage very obviously there for the looking. “Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart. Please, tell me more about your dear mama.”
You felt the tears on your cheeks before you realized they even formed in the first place. Why did this have to happen? You were blessed, you knew that, with this home and your family, but that didn’t mean you had to have horrible things happen to you as well. You already lost your father, your brother and mother were gone, but you didn’t do anything. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed the tears as they trailed down your face, a twisted pleasure running through him as he watched them. You were too sweet for this world, too sweet for a man like him to find you all alone like this. 
Without much extra thought, you felt the ghoul position his leg between yours, the rough material of his pants around his thigh immediately rubbing against the cloth covering your bottom half. The movement caught you off guard and another gasp of surprise left your mouth, a fresh wave of tears trailing down your face. So that was what he wanted… Growing up you learned what it was that made babies, the simple things like that, but you were sheltered, never leaving your home or the confines of your land, much preferring to stay with your family and not venture out into the dangerous unknown. And it was made dangerous because men, of things, like him.
“Awh, what is it, darlin’?” You heard the gun click into its holster at his side, one hand moving to grip your hip with a strength that really shouldn’t have shocked you, the other moving towards your face, his gloved thumb swiping at the tears gathering there. You mewled again as his thigh moved, the rough fabric causing unwanted friction in an unwanted place. “You scared of little ol’ me?”
“Please,” The fear you felt before only grew as the realization dawned on you. He wanted information and he knew the only way of getting it out of you would be to hurt you… but that didn’t have to mean just cuts and bruises, especially for a man like him. “Please don’t do this. I- I don’t know anything else.” 
You knew it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. You just wanted to protect your mother, and maybe you could convince him of that. At least, you hoped you could. 
The ghoul moved the hand on your face down, resting on the collar of your shirt, “Sweetheart, you really don’t know how the world works out there, do ya?” His face moved closer to yours, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “It’s eat or be eaten, darlin’, and you ain’t telling me what I wanna know.”
“But-” You hiccuped as fresh tears left your eyes, “But I don’t know anythi–”
A sharp gasp that bordered on a scream escaped you as the hand at your hip left to join the other one and a loud ripping sound invaded your senses, your tank top now ripped clean down the middle, exposing your breasts to him.
Damn, your skin was so soft. Not a scar on your body, just some dirt and scrapes from working outside. The sweat from the sun still lingered on your skin, making it glow, and that scent, it alone was enough to make a ghoul go feral. But he could stave off that feeling if he found a way to get rid of it. 
The ghoul’s eyes found yours again in spite of your breasts being right there. “Sweet thing,” God you hated how small his nicknames made you feel. “I don’t think you’re understandin’ still. I got a bounty to find, you know how to find ‘em, and, well, I know a fun way to get it outta ya.” 
At that last comment you felt the rough leather of his gloves finally touch your breast, squeezing and toying with them in a way you never thought possible. His hands were everywhere, twisting, rough, strong, it made your skin sweat and your back arch. You whimpered as he tugged at your nipples, the pain mixed with a different feeling, one that didn’t feel that bad. As your back arched, your hips unintentionally bumped against his and you felt something hard poke at you. Your eyes widened in shock, the nice feeling from before immediately dissipating as your situation dawned on you again. With that thought, a renewed vigor filled you, your hand clenching in a fist that was raised and swung at the monster’s face. 
Your punch landed with a loud thud but to your horror he didn’t even flinch, just stopped his ministrations on your breasts to glare at you, his anger radiating off of him in waves. 
A cruel smirk grew on his scarred face, “There’s that fight I was looking for.”
His sentence was punctuated with a harsh slap across your face, the force making your vision blink out for a couple of seconds as your head swung to the side. You tasted blood in your mouth and felt a strong hand grip your jaw, harshly moving your head so that it faced him again. 
“You wanna try that again, sweetheart, or are ya gonna tell me what I wanna know?”
Despite your fear and the knowledge that this man, this ghoul, could kill you in a matter of seconds, it would take more than that to get you to give up your mother and brother to him. With that thought in mind, you gathered up some of the blood in your mouth and spit at him, the red liquid splattering over his already reddened face. 
The hand at your jaw moved to grip your throat, squeezing just enough to cause discomfort and fear that he could do much worse. You watched in horror as his free hand then moved to gather up some of the blood on his face, the finger now sticky and shiny with it moving to his mouth as he licked it clean, a face of pure pleasure overcoming him as he tasted you. 
“You taste sweeter than apple pie,” Your throat was squeezed tighter as his face grew closer to yours, his missing nose making it easier to invade your space. “And that just makes me wanna taste you even more.”
His head immediately moved to your neck where you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his hand moved to grab at your face to keep you from moving. You squirmed in his grasp as you felt a rough tongue drag against your skin, the feeling foreign to you. It seemed like he really was tasting you, licking at the sweat and grime that coated your skin, savoring the taste. Your body tried to wriggle free, a scream warbled by the grip he had on your cheeks as you felt the blunt ends of his teeth bite deep into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. The force in which he bit down was sure to leave a mark, the abused flesh turning red and irritated almost immediately. 
You wanted to pass out right then and there, your mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to you next. He lingered at your neck for a moment before giving it one last swipe of his tongue and returning to look you dead in the eyes, a wicked smile on his scarred skin. Your face was smushed together by his gloved hand and you watched as his gaze traveled back to your neck, back to the mark he left there. His hand quickly followed that gaze, trailing over the mark before gripping your throat again. You saw as the thoughts and emotions raced behind his eyes but you didn’t know where they would lead.
Without any more warning, the ghoul used the hand on your throat to swing you around, slamming your back onto the table. You tried to get out from under him, swinging your arms and legs wildly, screaming (not that anyone would hear you), trying to land a punch or a kick, anything to get away. The ghoul grabbed a hold of your wrists in one hand, pinning them to the table above your head as his free hand went to his waist, grabbing the shotgun from its holster and pointing at your face once again. 
Your struggle stopped the moment you heard the holster pop open, your terror growing tenfold as you knew at this distance, one simple slip of his finger would cause your entire head to explode off your body. The ghoul’s smirk was horrible, devilish, and it turned your blood ice cold. He moved the barrel of the gun closer to you until it brushed against your pursed lips still stained red from your blood.
You knew what he wanted you to do, but you couldn’t, the thought making you want to die on the spot. The ghoul didn’t seem to like that, though, the barrel pushing against your lips more roughly.
“Open wide, darlin’” His voice was dark, gravely, filled with irritation but also wild interest, or perhaps lust. “You really don’t wanna make me even more angry.”
You looked deep into his eyes, the flakes of red across his face from your blood making him appear even more frightening, even more like a monster only seen in children’s stories. You knew if you hesitated any longer he’d be more than happy to pull the trigger and blow your head clean off. Your vision grew blurry as more tears formed, your mouth opening just the slightest amount to allow for the gun to slide past your lips. The taste of metal and gunpowder made you want to gag, your eyes finding the dark ones above you as a slow exhale of breath left the ghoul’s mouth, his gaze transfixed on the way his gun slid deep into your mouth.
“Ain’t that a sight,” He spoke in a low tone, voice filled with fascination.
The gun moved deeper into your mouth, the taste giving way to pain as it pushed against the back of your throat, your mouth wrapping painfully around it, stretching it in uncomfortable ways. You felt it begin to leave your mouth before pushing back in, the slow fucking of your throat by a gun making your tears only increase, the gaging sensation becoming more prominent. You tried to move your arms, to get the gun out of your mouth, but his grip was too strong, his fascination with the scene he created too enticing for him to stop. You felt a hard poke against your thighs as they draped over the end of the table and were pinned by the ghoul’s strong body. You continued to gag around the gun as he fucked it faster and rougher into your face, his breaths becoming louder above you. The hard poke from before rubbed against your thigh as he continued, unprovoked, or perhaps more enticed by your tears and the pathetic sounds attempting to leave around the thick barrel of his gun.
“It’s a damn good thing you ain’t out in the real world, pretty lady. You woulda been eaten right up the moment someone laid eyes on ya.” 
His final comment was finished as the gun was shoved further down your throat, a garbled scream rising from you only to be smothered by the metal. He finally removed the weapon from your mouth, saliva making the metal glisten in the dying light from the sun outside. Your cheeks felt burning hot, covered in your tears and sweat as you were given some reprieve from his assault. 
The ghoul looked over his gun, that same bastardly smirk still prominent on his face as he placed it back in its holster, leaving your spit still on it. “Now that was fun, wasn’t it sweetheart,” You tried to glare at him, but didn’t dare speak, your mouth too sore and abused. Your small fight made the ghoul chuckle again, the hand holding your wrists dragging you up from the table with a harsh yank. His face was inches from yours again as he held you in the air, the only thing keeping you from falling was his grip on your hands and his hips digging into yours against the table. “Wanna tell me where you dear mama is now?”
So this torture was still to get information out of you. You loved your mother, you couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up so easily just to save your own skin. 
“Fuck you.” Your voice was strained, your throat throbbing in pain at each syllable. 
“I hoped you’d say that.” With a shove, he threw you to the floor, moving to stand over you. With your limbs finally free, you scrambled to get away, but he was too quick, one heeled boot slamming down on your leg with enough force to stun you. You screamed out in pain, eyes going wide as you watched him reach for his belt, foot still pressed against your leg, keeping you from moving. His hands worked slowly, the terror building up in you at each passing second. His belt came off far too quickly followed by the button of his pants. 
You closed your eyes, not wanting to see where this was going. You heard the rustle of fabric as the ghoul removed his foot from your leg and went to straddle you, strong thighs on either side of your hips, one hand slammed against the floor beside your head, the other grabbing your jaw in a vice-like grip. 
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” You hesitated before giving in as his grip strengthened to the point of pain, making you gasp and your eyes fly open. “I want you to watch as I ruin you.”
The tears never seemed to stop, his hand leaving your jaw only to rip your shorts and panties down your legs in one harsh tug, the fabric burning against your too sensitive skin. You didn’t dare look down, your gaze staying fixed on his, hoping that if you didn’t look then it wasn’t actually going to happen. 
In spite of your prayers, you felt the rough leather of a gloved finger run through your folds, a sharp intake of breath the only sound you made. Your attempts at staying quiet were soon overcome as his finger found that secret spot just at the top of your cunt, the roughness of the glove and the fear that was coursing through your blood made it even more sensitive and a small mewl of discomfort left your lips. 
The ghoul continued to rub at your clit, your thighs beginning to shake, the sounds escaping your throat enough to make your skin boil in shame. “C’mon, pretty lady, do ya really wanna make this harder on yourself?” He went to whisper in your ear again, his fingers working magic against you. “I can make this feel so good for ya, just tell me what I wanna hear.”
Your hips began to buck against his hand, your moans growing louder as his thumb remained on your clit, one finger entering your cunt and it was like you were seeing stars. You had never done anything like this before, never really had the chance to. You experimented by yourself of course, but having someone else do it to you? It was on a whole other level. 
You chased your peak like it was the only thing standing in the way of your survival, your hips shaking, mouth agape, eyes still fixed on the dark ones above you. You were so close. You could feel it building, boiling over–
A pathetic cry left you as he removed his hand, bringing it up to his face as he inspected the wetness now coating his fingers. With that same hand he gripped your cheeks, your own fluids coating your face, the scent invading your senses. 
“I said I could make ya feel good, but you haven’t given me anythin’ in return yet.” His tone was so cocky, so arrogant, and yet it sent warmth shooting down to your core, unbidden and unwelcome to your mind, but it was received with exaltation as it fueled the slowly dying fire within you. 
“Please–” It was pathetic, you knew that, and you weren’t even sure what you were saying please to, please stop, please don’t stop, please let me come mr ghoul sir?
Your desire was partially snuffed out as you felt something large and warm slap against your stomach. The suddenness of it made you forget to not look down as your gaze landed on the ghoul’s cock. It was big, the skin red and irritated, scarred from the radiation, just like the rest of his body. As much as the pleasure he was giving you before felt amazing, you couldn’t take that thing. 
“That can’t fit,” You spoke hurriedly, the fear taking hold once more. “Please, I-I don’t know anything! I can’t help you, just please don’t put that in me.” Your sobs grew hysterical, tears free flowing, incoherent mumbles leaving you. “Sweetheart, you really think I care?” 
He was cruel, he was a monster, a horrible, despicable monster.
The ghoul reached for his discarded belt, using it to tie your wrists together above your head as you tried to squirm away from him again. And you watched in terror as one of his hands guided the head of his cock to hit against your opening, the other hand roaming down your neck to grab at your breasts again. The tip of him tried to get inside of you and you already felt like you would die right there.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you are tight.” His gaze left his cock and moved to look at you again, “You never been fucked before, have ya?”
Your blabberings and the fear in your eyes was enough of an answer for him. “Damn, didn’t think I’d find a cunt as sweet as yours in this place.” He finally managed to push in, the pain was horrible, it made your insides burn, your mind going blank. “Makes me wanna stay here just a bit longer, still gotta know where your little shit of a brother is afterall.”
Your mind was gone, overcome with pain as he pushed more of his length into you, heedless of your squirming, your tears, the resistance he felt as he kept on going deeper and deeper. 
It was horrible, you were glad your brain tried to block out other thoughts, albeit in vain as he pulled out just to slam back into you, fully sheathed in your tight cunt. 
“You’re gripping me like a vice, darlin’, I dunno if I can even get out.” He gave a soft chuckle at that, punctuated with a sharp tug from your warmth only to shove it back in at a brutal pace. 
You couldn't take it, couldn’t comprehend how this was happening to you. Distantly, you heard as his gloves came off, the rough skin of his fingers grabbing your hip with enough strength to form bruises while the other other arm braced against the floor beside your head, using it as leverage to rut into you. Your legs were splayed around his, your back scraping against the wooden floor, digging sharp lines into your skin. 
You could faintly hear quiet sounds escape the man above you as he fucked you, his arms moving to grab your legs, bending them until your knees were beside your head, allowing him to reach even deeper into you. The head of his cock felt like a nail was being hammered into your cervix with each thrust. Your glazed eyes wandered down to see where you were joined and a jolt of horror ran through you. Each time he rammed into you, your belly bulged up a bit, it was like he was rearranging your insides to make more room for him. 
The ghoul’s gaze followed yours and a louder grunt left him, one hand leaving your leg to press against the bulge on your belly. “Darlin’, you’re just too good for this fucked up world.”
The house was filled with the noises of flesh meeting flesh, your eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling his thrusts continued. You didn’t want to think, to feel, to exist anymore. But the ghoul has other plans. Your face scrunched up as you felt a textured finger find your clit once more, rubbing it in all the right ways to make your mind snap back into focus. The pleasure was building again, each snap of his hips mixed with the bundle of nerves at your center being played with and you were reaching that peak again. Your moans intermingling with the slapping of flesh on flesh, you didn’t want to reach that crest and fall over it, you didn’t want this encounter to feel good for you too, but by god it did.
Your voice was raw as it screamed out, your pleasure pushed over the edge as you came, your thighs coating with your fluids, the noises becoming even more obscene as he continued to fuck you harder and faster.
“Goddamn, you are just too fucking good.”
His hands gripped your hips as his pace quickened but lost its rhythm. You knew he was getting close and the overstimulation of being fucked through and beyond your orgasm was making it hard to think of anything other than him. His hips finally stopped pistoning into you, giving one last, rough thrust as something hot and sticky filled you up, leaking out around his cock that remained in you. 
The ghoul braced his hands on either side of your head, his eyes zeroed in on yours, breath heavy, sweat on his brow. “You gonna help me out now, sweetheart?”
Your head lolled to the side, eyes closing as you passed out. 
105 notes · View notes
covenantofthedeep · 2 years
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i still love you.
feat. | diluc, yoimiya, eula, and xiao! summary | getting back together after a breakup. you love each other. author's note: it was very painful to write this very painful fic. enjoy! also idk if xiao actually smiles.. but i took a leap. and so now he smiles.
diluc ragnvindr |
maybe he hung around after to see if you still loved him. maybe he, despite your cutting words, still loved you. maybe he went to sleep thinking of your soft smile and gentle touch. and maybe, just maybe, he hoped you’d come back to him. 
your breakup destroys diluc. he’s still in love, hanging on to his shredded memories of you. he longs to kiss you, hold you, be with you. and yet you’d left, weeks ago, months ago, how long was it? time blurs together when you’re not there, and he feels almost weightless.
ha! weightless. as though such a word could be used to describe a man whose heart had just been torn out of his chest and lain on the ground, bleeding raw and bare. he sometimes—no, always—thought about you, and was so out of it that he rarely bartended at the tavern anymore. he hid away in the dawn winery. he wants to see you—he wants you to love him again, love him like he loved (no, loves) you.
adelaide worries about his many weeks spent pining away in front of the fire, drinking tea and staring morosely into the flickering flames. he's always been broody, angsty, mopey, but after he met you, he perked up. he started growing flowers in little beds (after you nagging him) and he started wearing other clothes. honestly. he'd do anything to see you right now.
and his wish is granted one cold winter afternoon, when he opens the door to see you on the other side. his broken heart repairs itself at the sight of you, freezing, smiling apologetically at him. “i love you—“ the two of you start together, and he doesn’t even give you a pause before he pulls you into a kiss.
naganohara yoimiya |
she misses you with an ache so fierce her sunshine dims. her father comments on her dullness and she forces a laugh. she’s no longer chipper, no longer soft and sweet. instead, she’s hard edges and short tempers and quiet cries in the dark. 
yoimiya thinks about you every day. while lighting a firework fuse. while staying up late at night. her thoughts are plagued by you and you only. she can’t bring herself to forget you, the magical person who dove in and made her feel truly, truly joyful. who made her feel like she wasn't too much.
she watches the fireworks on amakane island, remembering when you sat with her. and yet the thought stings so much, she bites her lip hard to keep from crying. what happened to her? she used to laugh everywhere she went, spreading light and warmth. you'd called her the sparkle of my eye. when she'd blushed and laughed, you had thrown your arms around her and kissed her full on the mouth.
now, she needs you. she needs you to bring back that light. that sparkle.
her chest aching, she leans forward and closes her eyes, her fingertips brushing a slip of paper. she raises it to her eyes. on it, four words are written in a scrawl she’s recognize anywhere. 
i still love you.
she sniffles, the tears streaming freely down her face. when were you here last? to write her a note, but to not see you? could you be that selfish? why leave a note when you could see her in person? she tears up the note, her fingers shaking, anger seeping through the sadness. well, fine. if you didn't want to see her, so be it. she would raise her head and--
a shuffle behind her causes her head to snap up and glance behind her. it’s you, holding up a sheet of paper. she barely takes time to read it before throwing herself into your arms and sobbing into your shoulder. do you still love me?
“yes,” she whispers into your ear, her sobs hiccuping into laughter.
xiao | 
xiao tells himself that he doesn’t hurt. he tells the same thing to anyone who asks; i’m fine. i’ve been over yn for so long now, it’s a thing of the past. he’ll force a laugh, but when he’s alone, sorrow drags his heart down so far it’s a wonder he manages to live still. 
your leaving xiao tore him to shreds and pasted him together, some pieces missing and some in different spots. he wants to find you again. he wants you to call his name. often, he finds himself looking at the top of wangshu inn, searching for your silhouette, your voice, your words. your words were always so pretty. you had the loveliest way of describing the most trivial of things. the rain patters like my thoughts--always moving, always whirling, always there. but dissolving into the background sometimes, you'd written once. and then he'd known that he was deep in love.
maybe he’s too clingy. maybe all he deserves is this eternal suffering. karma, he thinks bitterly. he never deserved you. your sweet words, snarky wit and whip-fast intellect. your beautiful love. 
whenever he started doubting himself like this, you’d sit on his lap and furiously tell him all the things you loved about him. by the end, he was smiling and you were laughing. you always said his smiles were as rare as a double rainbow; they were rarely there, but when they were, they took your breath away. his smile lopsided and crooked, his eye crinkling. it looked so out-of-place on his usually solemn features that you couldn't help but laugh, without fail.
thinking about that feels like a stab to the chest. he inhales painfully and turns away from the top of wangshu inn—but not before spotting a familiar silhouette.
he could recognize you from anywhere, and hoists himself easily onto the roof. you turn towards him. “xiao,” you whisper, and he smiles a double-rainbow smile.
eula lawrence | 
eula pretends that she does not care. who cares if you've left her? the one true love of her life? better to be the one in power, she decides, and not to cry over you again. she throws herself into dancing more fervently than before, whispering to herself vengeance will be had for your breakup.
eula dances with a ferocity that sends everyone reeling into shock. is she... angry? people wonder. her anger plus her love for you plus her hurt turns her dances sharp like ice, dangerous like lightning. she's as graceful as a swan, light as a feather. she's quiet and angrier when she speaks and when people bring you up, she cuts them off with a dangerous look and a whispered threat of vengeance.
she remembers how you'd tell her how gorgeous she looked before the performance, and after, only compliments would spill from your mouth. she remembers blushing and smiling so hard her cheeks ached along with her feet, and she remembers you carrying her bridal-style to your bed. she remembers how you'd always make her tea and sit with her until she fell asleep.
thinking about such things, she scolds herself, is not right. she spins into a turn and for a second, thinks she can see your face in the crowd. but why would it be you? you left her after she broke up with you (maybe a valid reason, but does it matter? you left).
coming out of her turns, she spots you again. this time, there's no doubt. you smile at her and she rapidly ends her dance, rushing towards you. you race into her arms and she twirls the two of you around. "i love you so much," you whisper.
"i am so mad at you for leaving," she hisses. "but i love you too." and she yanks you back towards her.
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v3nusxsky · 4 months
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hiiiiii since today is my bday I was thinking if I could request lesso x female reader with loooots of comfort where lesso found out that today is r’s bday but she kept it a secret because she hated her birthdays and lesso felt sad for r so she surprised her 💛 thank u sm
A day to remember
*Authors note~ Drabble time i got this request around my birthday and birthdays are hard for me so I decided to wait until I had healed over my 21st before posting this which is based off my story*
Trigger warnings~ Vanishing Twin Syndrome (VTS) pregnancy loss and the aftereffects on the living twin, grief, that’s all I think?
Birthdays are meant to be joyful and memorable. The one day of the year that’s yours to feel special and loved. Any birthday parties you attended you’d seen parents beaming with pride, celebrating their child. Only on your birthday, your mother cried. In your younger years you didn’t realise that fact, too distracted by the colourful paper and what was inside. But as you grew you became more aware of your mothers tears.
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On your tenth birthday you caught her crying in her room, not understanding why she wasn’t happy. You are the big ten now! Surely that’s a good thing? But that is when she told you that it wasn’t just your birthday, you have a twin. Honestly, you could’ve laughed it off if it wasn’t for the constant feeling of loneliness and the unusual attachment you have to your bear given to you at birth. From then on, birthdays became reminders, a day to grieve for you and your mother.
The bigger birthdays were always the hardest, turning twenty one alone, knowing the big celebration should be joint. Weeks of planning should’ve been spent over what cake you’d have, where you’d go, what you’d do, were spent alone wondering what you would do with the day. It shouldn’t be the way that it is and you knew that.
Leonora knew your story, but had fought hard to discover when your birthday was, she simply couldn’t let your 25th birthday slide by unnoticed. You were a quarter of a century old and that needed to be celebrated. Of course she knew you wouldn’t want a fuss, you’d wake up and cry in her arms missing your twin, then she’d manage to convince you to eat something small before you’d crawl back into bed under the mountains of blankets ready to sleep the day away. Well not this year.
On the dreaded day, the routine started as normal, she held you as you cried whispering words of love and reassurance that your twin would want you to celebrate not spend all day sad. This year she couldn’t coax you out of bed for breakfast so she brought breakfast to you, a single pink rose on the tray. On said rose, a little bit of paper tied with a piece of pink string stating, “happy 25th sis! Gods we are old now huh? Celebrate on earth for me, and I’ll celebrate in the sky, forever your twin.”
More tears flowing at the thoughtful gesture from your Leo had you agreeing to get out of bed at least, a small but vital step. After breakfast Leonora dragged you to the bathroom where she pampered her girl after making you promise not to tell a soul, after all she’s still the Dean of Evil. From there she surprised you with gifts, only small but intimate items, loved nonetheless by you which made it worth it. Around the evening the real plan would begin.
After your favourite meal and some more tears, you and Leonora walked hand in hand to the gardens. The stars shining on full display as you stood underneath there glow. “It’s beautiful Nora” you murmured, seemingly mesmerised by the brightest star in the sky. “I figured we’d stand here and wish your twin the best birthday also, I know how much you miss them and we’ll they certainly are the brightest star in the sky dove.”
Most people wouldn’t understand why you cling to the woman, sobbing in her arms at a simple walk under the stars, but you knew she did. “Shh darling, I know it’s okay. I know you miss them sweet girl. It’s okay, I’m here dove let it out” among other reassurances where murmured out in between kisses being dropped to the crown of your head. After some time, soothing classical music suddenly surrounds you causing you to pull back in confusion, “Nora?”
“My sweet little dove, I wanted to make today special for you and well I thought this would be the perfect place and time. Forgive me not being on one knee but here under the brightest star in the sky I wanted to ask you if you would be my wife” she rushed out, it was rare for Leonora to show her nerves but they were soon washed away when you jumped into her arms repeatedly saying yes. The ring slipped perfectly onto your left ring finger, and that’s when Leonora made a promise to never let you not celebrate both your birthdays, the walk under the stars becoming a tradition for you both.
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lxvebun · 1 year
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request: As I asked earlier, and I hope I'm not bothering you, <3, is it okay if you can have Aizawa, Shigaraki, and Dabi react to their S/O picking their skin, and that they have scars and scabs from picking so much?
buns notes Hi angel! Thank you for requesting!! And for your patience. I did hawks instead of Aizawa, I hope you don't mind! And I hope you like this. It's written in my older headcanon format but honestly I had the best time writing when I wrote like this so in the future more fics may pop up in this format.
content: Dabi/Hawks/Shiggy x gender neutral reader. Fluff. Comfort. Not catched up on current events just pretend we're in a bnha reality where all is well *sobs* hawks has his wings! My old Headcanon format. Blood. Skin picking. Scratching. Scars. Kissing said scars. Staples. If I missed anything let me know! Very lazily proofread.
Dc creators and consumers dni. My blog aint for you
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Dabi
♡- Oh he's such a good boyfriend, you will never convince me otherwise. He's protective, he's sweet, he's your human heating pad, what could you possibly want more?
♡- and being such a good boyfriend, and his already perceptive eye. It makes that he usually knows what's going on before you tell him. From insecurities to other problems, if it's something he can fix, he'll do it without you having to tell him about it.
♡-so if you were planning on hiding it from him. You failed. he has already noticed the violent scratching, the picking at your skin and the frequent trips to the bathroom to rub the blood from under your nails almost immediately.
♡-He doesn't bring it up, he'll wait for you to be comfortable enough to do that. In the meantime he just helps you as subtle as he can with the knowledge he has.
♡-which is mostly holding your hands whenever he can, a win win for him really. You're unable to scratch at your skin, and he gets to hold you<3
♡-I believe he'd tell you stories of his own scars and habits as well to hopefully make you more comfortable around the topic. The staples stuck to his face are hard to miss, and as a nervous tic he does have a habit of fucking around with the ones on his wrists or jaw. Plucking them out and pressing them back in to the point blood starts to seep out. Not the most fun story to hear, but if it helps making you more comfortable, It's a small sacrifice really.
♡- it's hard to feel insecure about any scars you have being with Dabi. The most obvious reason being, he has them too, even more noticable than yours may be. And he's still the prettiest guy you have layed your eyes on.
♡-overall he tries his best to help as much as he can and as much as you allow him to<3
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Hawks
♡-also a very good boyfriend, but in order to be your very good boyfriend, you need to tell him about the things that are troubling you, things you're insecure about, which you don't always do.
♡- luckily for you, it's hawks, walking heartthrob and probably the most charming person you've met. He can coax it out of you with lots of cuddles, sweet nicknames and ever sweeter kisses<3
♡-A lot of him helping you exists out of buying expensive cooling creams and ice patches for damage control after a bad day of scratching. And of course, his feathers help out too
♡- if the urge is there, or he notices you doing it subconsciously, one of his feathers will swat your hand away and replace it for you. That way you can't do too much damage to your skin.
♡-you rarely feel insecure about it with hawks, because he just wont let you<3 any bad talk or somber faces directed towards your scars gets wiped away when he presses a plethora of kisses to them. Try to hold him back, you cant!
♡- what kind of boyfriend would he be if he just let his pretty dove feel anything less than perfect?
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Shigaraki
♡-he's been there and while his habit of scrating at his neck and wrists is more of an control coping mechanism there have been times where he scratched himself open and since he always picks at the same place, it has left some deep scars.
♡-scars that you've continously showed love towards, pressing gentle kisses when passing by or tracing over it. So please, do not be insecure about yours!
♡-in general any love and affection you show towards shigaraki, he tries his best to return tenfold. He's new to relationships, to love. And god is he in love with you. And he just wants to make sure you know that.
♡-that means repeating himself over and over again about how your scars do not make you any less beautiful, pressing kisses to your face to distract you, or challenging you to a mario kart game >:)
♡- he's very giddy about letting you borrow his his gloves! Although the gloves only covers half of your hands and you're still able to pick if you put some force in it but you dont have the heart to tell him that. It's the thought that counts<3
♡-he's not afraid of a little blood, and as hard as it may be for you, please do come to him when it gets bad. He's seen and been through a lot worse and promises you there nothing you can show him that will make him look at you in a bad light. Although he's not the best example, he rarely treats his skin after he picks, he would very much like to take care of yours. Even something as small as cutting your nails for damage control, or as big as helping you clean up the blood. he's always there and happy to to help<3
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Thank you for reading angels!<3
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showtoonzfan · 10 months
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As I’ve said before, the Fizz episode is the only episode of the entire second season that I’m interested in, and it’ll be like a big bang to me, cause I CANNOT wait to see how they fuck it up. It’s going to be a train wreck and I’m here for it, I have so many predictions, so here’s a list of them!
— I always referred to it as the “Fizz and Ozzie episode” but I feel like most of it will be about Fizz and Blitz and their backstory, judging by the trailer shot of them as little kids again and the one where Fizz is seemingly singing to Blitz but then drops him. Also bc Blitz always needs to be in every single damn episode and Viv refuses to show someone else’s perspective lol.
— It would be nice if we dove into how Fizz met Ozzie, how he took him in and how they started to perform/date, but I honestly don’t think we’ll see much of that, and for all we know, the shots of Fizz performing could be in modern time instead of a flashback. Judging by the two shots of Fizz and Blitz fighting that was at that panel, this episode is definitely more about them then his relationship with Ozzie tho.
— I have the feeling that the “Hell finding out Ozzie is a hypocrite and dating Fizz” conflict probably won’t be resolved, I mean look at Ozzie’s for Blitz and Stolas lol. It either won’t be resolved and the episode will be unfocused, or resolve it too fast and in a forced/underwhelming way. I highly doubt it’ll be a huge conflict anyway since Viv never really dives into the class system in the first place.
— Fizz and Blitz will either patch up things up immediately at the end of the episode, or not so Viv can use the characters/conflicts for another future episode that obviously won’t be planned. I already know they’re going to paint Blitz out to be this guy who’s sweet and deep down wants to make amends with Fizz so I won’t waste my anger for that, (how much you want to bet Blitz being responsible for Fizz’s body was an accident and he never meant for it to happen so the fans can say he’s an uwu baby who must be protected) but if Fizz actually ends up forgiving Blitz at the end of this episode (especially if it turns out he’s responsible for Fizz’s missing his arms and legs) I’ll be pissed because even if Fizz DOES end up forgiving Blitz, doing it at the end of this episode would feel too fast and forced. I don’t want this to be Loo Loo Land again lol.
— Stolas may or may not appear in this episode to do the crystal deal. Ofc it would be WAY too much to cram in for an episode that already seems to have a lot in it, but they might do it. I will be honest, I 100% doubt the “Stolas making a deal with Ozzie to give Blitz a crystal” plotline will actually go anywhere tho. Knowing that this season clearly wasn’t planned and that Viv is making stuff up/pulling things out of her ass, this probably won’t go anywhere since Stolas later in the season is clearly going to be taken in by Imp anyway, and we gatta push him and Blitz being together regardless of they’re doing the book deal or not. Anyway that shot of him sitting in a room and the clock ticking could be from another episode, but of we do get Stolitz content here, who knows, maybe Blitz will see how healthy Fizz and Asmodeous are and want that with Stolas.
— Knowing that Fizz is one of Viv’s favorites, I wouldn’t be surprised if this episode DOES jab at Blitz more and really show how hurt Fizz was by him. Like I said tho, they might patch things up quickly. Either way, gatta love how she clearly plans to show how negatively Fizz was affected by Blitz but can’t do the same with Octavia, Verosika or Barbie since they’re females and boring to her.
— If this episode has another pointless M&M B-plot like Loo Loo Land, Seeing Stars, or Western Energy did, I swear.
And that’s pretty much it. We can all predict that Blitz burned Fizz somehow, there’s not much to say other than it’s ganna show how they used to be friends and make a soap opera about how bad Blitz feels so.
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luveline · 2 years
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Anything with shy!reader and Remus. Honestly my favorite!!
a slice of domesticity with your new bf remus ♡ shy!fem!reader | 0.7k words
"Dovey," Remus calls from the door. 
You can hear from his tone of voice what mood he's in and it only gets worse when he walks into his bedroom and finds you standing there with no trousers on. 
"Dove," he says again, smarmy. 
You turn around so you can't witness him looking at you, always so embarrassed by his clear adoration.
This is a poor choice on your part. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your front, chin falling into the juncture of your neck. 
"Hi," he says softly. 
You crumble. "Hey." 
He drops handful of kisses over your cheek and the side of your face, his hands spreading a heat over your abdomen. 
"You had a good time?" you ask. 
"Not as good as if you'd been there." 
"Don't say that," you admonish lightly, secretly pleased. He'd gone for 'boys brunch' with James, Sirius and Frank, his friends from school. 
Remus hums, squeezes you tightly and then lets you go. You miss his touch but you're still shy about being naked around him and you take his release as an opportunity to finish getting dressed as quickly as possible. Remus sits on the end of the bed and stretches out, groaning and sighing like a lazy house cat. 
"Did you eat?" he asks. 
You tie the drawstrings of your jogging bottoms tight before sitting on one knee beside him, your other leg hanging off the side of the bed. "No," you admit, wary of his impending scolding, "I only just got out of the shower."
He frowns and sits up. You smile to yourself when he brings your hand to his face and kisses it. "Let me make you something," he says. 
He stands and drags you down the hall with him into his snug little kitchen. "You can sit here," he says, backing you up until your butt touches the tumble dryer. You hop up.
"What do you fancy?" he asks, opening the fridge door.
You shake your head. "Whatever you want." 
"I'm making it for you." 
"You're not gonna eat?" Eating alone sounds like an awkward nightmare. 
He smiles at you from over his shoulder. "I am. So tell me what you want and we can get to eating." 
You watch from your vantage point as he starts to cook, cringing at his fingers near hot oil and the scary way he handles a knife. You almost beg him to slow down, worried you're gonna lose your new boyfriend after barely having him for a month, or at the very least he's gonna lose a finger or three. 
"How was the lie-in?" At your shy smile, "Good?" 
"Yeah." 
"I think you needed it." 
You flush with heat at the implication. Remus had kept you up late for some heavy kisses and an abundance of sweet nothings, the kind of stuff you'd dreamt of for years and never got before you met him. Your mind drifts, thinking about the way he'd run his hands over your skin like you were something sacred and the way he'd said as much. It might sound silly to want, but nothing has ever made you feel as special as Remus' lips to your cheek and the simple way he'd said, "You're so pretty, you know that?" 
"It would've been better with you," you say quietly. A month ago you never could've said it no matter how strongly you felt it. 
Remus grins at his frying pan and shakes it. "Well," he starts tentatively, "you should stay again tonight. That way we can have a lie in together." 
You hop down off of the tumble dryer and come to stand beside him. "Smells good," you say.
"Thanks, dovey. Do you want anything else with it? Maybe I can make some lemon rice?" 
You slip your fingers between his and lean your head against his shoulder. He clutches your hand back tight and drops his head on top of yours. "Dove?" 
"Anything you want." 
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doeeyeddyke · 9 months
Text
post Lazarus transfem Jay, where no one knows shit about her coming back until completely accidentally, partly bc she's not even the (sole) center of attention
Damian is sent to Gotham and is one day like btw I have some sisters and Bruce is like..... "Are They Mine" (Wait I Might Have Girls 🥺) (secret girldad Bruce for the win) and Damian is like.... Jane will be displeased if I say anything.... but I think Athanasia biologically is Father's..... but I don't want to lie..... hmmm...... "idk anyway look at the time doot di doot...."
Talia doesn't pick up when Bruce calls she's just like "girls go check if it's anything important or if he's just having a meltdown"
So now 2 sisters start popping up around more often to keep and eye out and check on Damian and one is super tall and buff and the other is much shorter and slighter but they call themselves twins even if short one says she's older and tall one is like "barely!! it doesn't count!!" which honestly yea they're sisters alright
That's how Black Swan and White Dove come to be known, Black Swan is quiet and seemingly ambivalent about the bats but White Dove sounds like she's about to beat the shit out of Batman and to a lesser degree Nightwing and seems vaguely displeased being around Tim's Robin but is cool with Spoiler/Batgirl (esp since she's gotten close to Black Swan and treats her well) and distantly polite to young Duke the very few times they meet
Tim's Robin: hey what's up with that
Damian:
Robin:
Damian: she has Issues With Men don't you know anything Drake smh leave her alone
Robin:
Robin: Oh. Yea ok that makes sense ig sorry man
Damian: don't tell her I said anything tho
(Damian to himself later: it's not Untrue but that's not exactly what's- wait ok that's kinda exactly what's going on here isn't it)
Btw Damian calls her Jane but her full name is Catherine Jane Columba (Mom's name + Jane Austen + Mom's hc maiden name) and she uses Jane with league sibs but CJ in general for everyone else
Anyway I imagine that Cass and Jane start hanging around more and are eventually considered neutral to friendly extension of batfam via Damian (and Athanasia and Mara when they're sent over) (Athanasia is sweet if a lil awkward and much younger than everyone else, Mara is very "You're Not My Dad just a sort of step uncle at best" but Bruce is like "omg,,, daughters,,,,")
Cass might even eventually come over for dinner or smth maybe as Steph's plus one and Dick would be like "omg I am going to big brother you so hard" and Bruce is like "are you sure you don't want to be my daughter" and Tim is trying to figure out if he can do his stalking out of affection and respect thing without getting his butt kicked and the Al Ghul kids are being absolute demons fighting for Cass' attention and trying to find out what Jane is upto
The Jane identity reveal can be totally anticlimactic (Damian says Jane wants to meet them and then at a scheduled dinnerthey meet a buff tall older female lookalike of the dead second Robin and they think "omg 😱 surprise older Todd sister no one knew about??" and Jane doesn't let anyone say anything bc she wants to see how long this lasts)
Or maybe there's some big fight or whatever or fear toxin is involved and a league sib is hurt and Jane unmasks to comfort and tend to them and Bruce or Dick (or even Alfred!) see her face and have a bit of an aneurysm and Jane's too distracted with big sister-ing to be too explicitly angry with the bats at the moment but makes a snappy remark or smth that gives her away ("miss me old man" /sarcastic and /derogatory if it's Bruce)
And uh yea anyway don't take this too seriously I'm half delirious and keep dissociating in turns and I just wanted an excuse for transfem Jason and ended up really loving CJ/Jane
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littledollll · 1 year
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Okay so I’m like massively over excited over getting more little r and lucifer and I’ve got a list of prompts to send your way. This one is one of my favourites of my list and I can’t help but send it to you rn😂 I’m honestly throwing so many at you I apologise but you just write so beautifully I can’t contain myself.
Prompt} wings. All I need to say. In their little space the angel is absolutely star struck with lucifers wings, traces them with their fingers giggling at the way they flex underneath their fingers. Lucifer worries because his wings aren’t what they use to be but the angel is absolutely fascinated by them and loves when they wrap their little up in their wings rocking them to sooth them into a slumber.
Okay I will try to contain myself now and give you some time. Your work is my new addiction and I’m not mad about it.
~ all the love shy anon
Rest, my little angel (pt.3)
(Before this, Sweet little angel)
Lucifer Morningstar x little!angel!reader
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Other requests in this:
- “lucifer could be the most adorable being when dealing with his angels nightmare, lucifer would internally panic but keep their kind calming persona for his angel.”
- “R requests that luci lays on them so they can feel lucifer weight helping to ground them in their little state. However lucifer worried their weight would be harmful to the r but when they hear the little cute noises coming from r and see r fighting exhaustion they can't help but smile at the fact they can bring r comfort just from being them.” ~ shy anon🕊️
A/n: I fell asleep 3 times writing this, ya boy is tired. I feel like I followed the requests but not to a T so tell me if it’s any good, I know Lucifer was supposed todo more of the comforting from nightmare part but I felt like this was a good way to introduce Morpheus into the story!
Warnings: nightmare but like that’s literally it
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
You were still shaken up when Lucifer decided that today had been such an exhausting day, their little angel just needed to get to sleep, you complained (of course) but eventually gave in, on one condition. “mm fine but u stay with me?” Lucifer pretended to think about it for a second too long making you pout and poke their face to get their attention. “Very well no need to get violent, tiny.” As much as Lucifer’s comfort helped you keep calm in your waking hours you knew the dreaming would not offer the same kindness, stressful days came backed up by nightmares. You knew why, you understood the function and didn’t disagree with it, still you didn’t want to wake up alone.
You hurried over to settle into bed dragging them along with you, they chuckled at this. “Considering you were fighting me on not going to bed about two seconds ago I have to consider something changed your mind here.” You quickly grabbed your stuffed bear, emery, from the group of others around the room and jumped into bed. “Luci?” They hummed in response as they settled in bed readying for you to jump in their arms. “Can- could u maybe-“ you sighed. Giving up on talking you laid on the bed and pulled them to lay on top of you.
This confused Lucifer. “Little dove, what are you doing? Aren’t you a little too small for me to lay on you?” You giggled and nuzzled into their chest. “Oh alright, you promise to tell me to move when you need, yes?” You nodded and sighed happily, snuggling impossible closer to them blocking any and all light in the room, you always did this, hide away from the light yet refuse to actually turn it off. You can’t remember when you dozed off, Lucifer’s hand gently brushing through your hair and their weight over you keeping you grounded and comfortable.
________________
You woke in a dark room. Not just dark, pitch black, you couldn’t see where it ended, no sight of walls , you couldn’t even see the floor under you, it was all just darkness, you’d guess you were in the center of this odd room. After a beat of silence something or someone lunged at you from the dark, missing you by an inch you felt them move past you. As you were helpless to move from your spot, your arm was grabbed and you let out a scream at the feeling of being dragged. Then the point of view changed.
Still you couldn’t see anything. But now instead of physically feeling it you could hear. Your own screams of terror and the snarls form what you would guess was a demon. The demon. A chill ran down your spine as you tried to get away from the scene, but what’s the point of running in a void of nothingness? It only tired you out, you couldn’t breathe, your legs were sore and your heart pounded, yet the screams and growls still felt like they were only two feet away.
You curled into yourself sobbing until the screams faded and all you were left with was an unsettling silence. And then a voice you recognized very well, careful and calculating, gentle. “Hello, little star..” Morpheus. You opened your eyes to be met with the sight of him knelt in front of you. “over?” You asked in a shaky voice. Morpheus nodded. “It’s been a while, little one. Has Lucifer been treating you nicely?” You nodded, a smile making its way to your face. “It’s time to wake up then, I have nothing to worry about I see, Lucifer is worried for you. I will visit you again, little star.”
You missed him. Morpheus found you through your dreams, sometimes you’d go to sleep little and wake up in the dreaming just the same, he promised to take care of you whenever you did, and that he did. Every night in heaven, but stopped when you came to hell, you guess he knew you were in capable hands now, the check in was nice though, he truly did care.
_________________
Lucifer woke to your whimpers and the slight twitching in your body, like you were trying to get away from something. They panicked, and Immediately moved off you and sat on their knees to get a good look at you. Your brows were furrowed and you looked about to cry, every so often your arms would tense, your breathing was uneven.
They decided to wake you as gently as they possibly could, their hand caressed your face, thumb going between your worried brows they sat against the headboard and pulled you into their arms, sitting you up against them. You relaxed in their hold and then your eyes fluttered open. You hid into their arms. “I don’t wana leave again..” your shaky small voice worried them. “What did you see, my little angel?”
“dark” you stated simply and chose to continue. “It grabbed me, I- then attacked I think-“ as you spoke their wings wrapped protectively around you, distracting you from your words. As your hand lightly traced over them, you giggled when it twitched under your touch. Lucifer seemed worried for reasons you couldn’t pinpoint. “Your wings won’t turn into this. I made sure of it, little angel.” you hummed in a questioning tone. “pretty! n cool like- like dragon” “You think so, angel?”
You nodded a little too fast making Lucifer chuckle. “Thank you, sweet dove. Are you alright?” You nodded again. “Scary but morphy came n stops it!” you felt so protected under their hold, it was safe and warm, you started to feel sleepy again but fought it since you wanted to keep talking. “Morpheus, my love? I wasn’t aware you two knew eachother.” “uh-huh! Morphy take cares in dreams back in silver city!” you yawned.
“You never thought to tell me, little one?” Shaking your head you nuzzled into their chest. “he stop after I came here” Lucifer seemed lost in through for a moment. “Did you know he and I are good friends? I could extend an invitation his way if you wish to see him, little dove.” You were too tired to do anything besides hum in confirmation, Lucifer smiled rocking you lightly in their arms. “Rest, my little angel, we can talk more in the morning.”
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nellyofthevalley · 6 months
Text
ascendant, ch.1
astarion x fem!tav x gale
rating: explicit content: DUBCON, abusive relationships, emotional manipulation, dead dove, blowjob summary: this is a sad story about the transformation of ascended astarion's love for tav into a vampire's dark desire. obsession. possession. astarion says he would've 'ruined your love, used your trust until it was nothing'. that's this. and it's not just her he'll ruin.
“I gave you protection from the sun,” Astarion continues, hiking up her nightdress and massaging her thighs, the way he knows she loves—the way he used to do for her nearly every night. He stares into the mirror, knowing she’s watching. “Gave you a palace, a garden, eternity; everything you could ever want, yet you resist me at every turn.” His definition of everything is all but what she wanted and asked for. There was once a time where she asked for things, and he provided. She asked for the garden. She asked for eternity, too.
chapters: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6
read it on ao3 or below the cut:
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It wasn’t long before Tav doubted her decision of eternity.
The early months were perfect. Astarion treated her like his queen; he fawned over her, adored her, and said all the right things. He even donned an apron and cooked for her, and it was cute—strangely human—how his meals were tasteless or bitter to start, but improved every week as he invited her to the kitchen to teach. He asked her to decorate their bedroom and it sounded like a sweet promise from his lips, filled with confidence that she’d stay.
He seemed so distraught the night she agreed to forever. As they lay in bed, he stared at her with those soft eyes and whispered in her ear how much he’d miss her after she left, looking at her like he might shed a tear. Every bit of it seemed so sincere. It was foolish, but for a time, she felt she’d somehow brought him back and undone the atrocity he committed. The atrocity they committed.
After all, she agreed to be his eyes.
He poured all of what he had to give into winning her affections and she ate it up; she often remembered what he became after the ascension and couldn’t believe he was the same person. It started to feel like he’d never performed the ritual at all, like she’d gotten the Astarion she knew and loved back. Like a dream.
It started with small incidents, things that she explained away in her head in denial. Shortly before she was drained, the servants started addressing her by Lady Ancunín. She was sure it was a mistake, that they’d simply misunderstood the situation, and quite honestly, it made her heart skip a beat. By then, she was so deeply charmed by him that it was impossible to look past the fog of hope and love that had been buried so far for so long. It was the same when he slowly stopped waiting on her hand and foot, drawing her baths and taking her out to explore the city.
The first time she truly started to question her choice was a mere few weeks after becoming his spawn. Astarion acted like the palace was their home during her stay, but when he found her wandering, admiring what he’d changed and exploring a hallway she’d never been down, his clenched fists and angry stare terrified her.
“What are you doing?” he demanded with a tone so sharp it cut through the air.
Tav would’ve jumped if she weren’t so shocked by him in this moment. Nothing of the Astarion from the last few months stood before her now. Instead, she faced the Astarion she left behind.
“I-I just wanted to see the place,” she said. “I’ve never been to this side of the palace.”
“And for good reason. This hall is mine,” Astarion answered. He approached her with loosened fists and softened his face, as if he realized he’d been caught—Tav didn’t know it then, but she knows now that it was merely an act; she could catch him fucking someone else clear as day, and he’d still play nice and find a way to brush her off.
“What’s down here?”
“My sweet consort,” he said in that same gentle voice he used to appeal to her when she first arrived. He slipped an arm behind her, his palm ushering her forward at the small of her back until she was pressed to him with her hands on his chest. He looked down upon her and made her feel so… insignificant. “Don’t concern yourself with my problems. It’s hard work, controlling the high society of the city.”
Is that what he did while he spent hours tucked away in a part of the palace she’d never seen before or when he left the palace entirely and refused to let her tag along? Had he studied the notes, wormed his way in and truly taken Cazador’s place? And what did he need an entire unrestricted hall for? Rooms upon rooms…
Astarion held her close and kissed her, his free hand cupping her face so kindly, intoxicating her with the loving touch he knew she desired more than anything and imploring her to forget his transgression.
“My love, you know I cherish you more than anything,” he assured her, leaving one last little peck on her nose. “Never enter this hall again.”
It was the first time she felt the power he held over her as his spawn. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a command she was forced to obey. His first rule.
After that first barrier was broken, it all came flooding out; the rose-tinted haze wafted away and mannerisms he’d so expertly suppressed began to surface. She met his other spawns and looked at them in disgust; she felt remorse for it, they were victims after all, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d bound them to him for eternity. Enslaved them. What did he do to lure them? Had he reverted to old tricks and seduced them, had he done what Cazador did to him and promised a dishonest gift of eternity?
Even worse than that was the jealousy. As the ascendant, Astarion no longer needed blood, yet he indulged in it anyway—from her, from his other spawn, and from beautiful women and men she saw enter his room and never leave. She didn’t ask him about it. By then, she’d learned not to.
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She’s brushing her hair at the vanity, staring at a reflection that can no longer stare back—yet another thing he promised and hasn’t fulfilled—when he enters the room with that dreadful look on his face she’s become so accustomed to seeing. The one that so clearly shows his disappointment with her, a marker of an upcoming argument or punishment. 
“I can’t have you moping up here all day, concerning the servants.”
“What would you have me do, my love?” she asks meekly, staring at his image in the mirror; it’s a perfect reflection of their past. “I can’t go outside and I have no friends of my own.”
No friends at all, really—even his ‘friends’ couldn’t be considered hers. He’d made a point to isolate her from the rest of the world in a slow boil of escalation, just like everything else he’d done to her. 
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Astarion sits on the stool behind her, trapping her body between his legs and under the tight hold of his arms.
“You can’t be my only friend and keep me trapped in here and expect me to be happy.” She folds her arms and scoffs, her anger fueled further by Astarion’s breath on her neck. “Pretend to be happy, my mistake, I know so well how you only care about appearances.”
“No, no. I do wish my favorite pet would be happy,” he says softly against her ear, lips just barely brushing against the outer edge. “But you are so petulant. We took the world together and you refuse to enjoy its bounty.”
He kisses along the outline of her ear, tender, as if he could actually mean anything he’s saying. As if he cares for her wellbeing. Typical, he always does this, and she’s fucking sick of it—sick of how he tries to manipulate her with his pretty words and constrain her with his body, even after he’s shown his true self so clearly, even after she’s already become his spawn. What’s the point of it? She’d rather he be honest than hide behind these pretty lies.
“I gave you protection from the sun,” Astarion continues, hiking up her nightdress and massaging her thighs, the way he knows she loves—the way he used to do for her nearly every night. He stares into the mirror, knowing she’s watching. “Gave you a palace, a garden, eternity; everything you could ever want, yet you resist me at every turn.”
His definition of everything is all but what she wanted and asked for. There was once a time where she asked for things, and he provided. She asked for the garden. She asked for eternity, too.
She remembers vividly how he brought her food one evening, early into her transformation, after she asked for blood. A young boy who couldn’t possibly be older than twenty years, bound and gagged and tossed to her to eat like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. 
‘What did you expect, love?’ Astarion asked with a disgusting smirk on his face. ‘Where do you think the blood comes from?’
He treated her like she was a stupid child, sheltered and naïve to the realities of the cruel world around them; like she hadn’t conquered the greatest threat the city had seen in decades. But perhaps that’s what he’s been priming her to become. Nothing more than a frightened spawn for him to use as he pleases and elevate his pedestal.
At some point, she stopped asking.
“You don’t take me out anymore,” Tav argues. “You bring other lovers to our bed.”
She wants to fight, desperately, but she knows it’s not worth it. She can’t fight him as a spawn, and it’s become clear that he’ll postpone allowing her to sup of his blood for as long as he can. He still maintains the farce that he’ll turn her, adamant that it’s only a matter of time and that she’s not ready for one reason or another. After half a year, still, she’s deemed ‘not ready’.
“Is that what this is about?”
“No.”
“They are not you, my dear.” Astarion kisses her from shoulder to shoulder and continues, “I only love you. I promise you that. They’re food. They’re nothing.”
“Astarion, no, listen—”
“I don’t want to hear any more of this shit out of your mouth,” he says curtly.
He rises from the stool and grabs her upper arm to pull her up and jerks her forward into his embrace. Tav knows it’s over, knows he’s won now and he’ll file this little incident away into the darkest, furthest crevice of his brain; he’ll ignore it like he always does and convince himself everything is fine.
No, he’s not convincing himself. He knows very well how she feels.
“I love you. You know that,” he whispers between kisses to her cheek and ear.
Tav closes her eyes while he pretends to love her the same way he did a year ago, clinging to all the glimpses of the Astarion she once knew. Astarion’s thigh and knee nudge between her legs and make subtle, circular movements against her cunt. He pushes forward, coaxing her backwards until she gasps as her back hits the wall and tilts her head aside to offer her neck for him.
“Please,” she begs, waiting for him to drink from her, from her and not from those disgusting people he dragged into their room and broke her heart with.
But he doesn’t bite. He teases her skin with the tips of his fangs and clenches just enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t bite down and he doesn’t drink. Astarion trails his fingertips lower between her thighs, languidly running them along the slit of her cunt over the thin layer of fabric and works her into a mess, only satisfied once she’s filling the air with the scent of her arousal and breathy moans that ask him for more.
“On your knees, pet.” He says it sweetly, but her body obeys and sinks to the floor before her mind can process: it’s a command.
Astarion looks down at her much like how he had the night he caught her wandering, a fake air of kindness over inhuman anger, like a minuscule wisp of perfume covering the scent of a rotting corpse. He presses his thumb to her lips, forcefully parting them and pushing down on her tongue with his fingers under her chin, holding her there, asserting dominance.
“You have a feisty mouth and you’re wasting it on petty complaints,” he says, stroking her hair as Tav reaches up with timid hands to unfasten his pants.
It’s a ritual now, though he normally didn’t force her to the floor. Where he once served her, gave in to her every whim and pleasured her, she now stands in that role, undressing him and pleasuring him while he eyes her like she’s just a dessert to be had—in truth, she must be less than that if he won’t even have her blood.
There was a time when she got on her knees and worshipped him of her own accord, reveling in the moans and faces he made, proud of how she reduced him, the powerful vampire ascendant, to an unkempt mess. 
She frees the straining erection from his pants and holds the hard, pale pink cock to her face, gliding the flat of her tongue from shaft to tip. She still wants it, and it hurts. It aggravates her how the arousal continues to gather between her thighs as she coats him in the slick of her mouth and he pulls at her hair; it makes her feel out of control, like an animal ruled by primal need. Like she could never be free of him, because she’d never forget the Astarion he once was.
When she gazes upward at him and flicks the tip of her tongue into the dip, tasting his salty precome, his face contorts and he groans and she saves every fucking expression he makes to memory, every curve of his lips and every noise. She desperately clings on to any last hints of power she has over him and savors the brief glimpses at her Astarion who she misses so badly.
“You can’t stay mad at me, love,” he taunts as he grasps at her scalp tighter; he’s running out of patience.
Tav tries to slowly ease him in further, but Astarion leans forward and places his arm against the wall, pushing into her mouth until her moans turn to whimpers and the edges of her eyes glisten as tears well on her beautiful face. She’s a fucking work of art, she cries and whines and she doesn’t fight, she stares back at him with a fiery hatred in her eyes and sucks and licks and lets him fuck her face with his rough, frantic thrusts until she would choke and suffocate—if she still had to breathe.
He slows down, pulling back and watches her instinctively gasp for air she doesn’t need. It’s only a few seconds of reprieve before he fills her mouth again, pushing forward and forward, watching his cock disappear behind her reddened lips until he hits the back of her mouth and allows her control once more.
Well. The illusion of control.
Pointed nails dig into his skin and draw blood as she holds onto him like she needs to be anchored to the ground. 
“That’s—ah—you’re perfect, darling.”
Perfect. Perfect when she’s behaving, perfect when she’s playing the role he wants. She remembers when he called her perfect before—it didn’t last long. 
Tav feels him grow harder against her tongue, his body tenses, and Astarion’s heavy handed grasp on her scalp and furrowed face tell her he’s almost there; she buries her nails into his thighs deeper and tries to hold him still, but he yanks her head back by the hair and and defiles her face with his release. He frees her hair and pumps his cock, enticing out every last drop, streaks of come across her lips, her cheeks, her hair. 
Astarion swipes the come on her face with his fingers and pushes them into her mouth, like he’s feeding it to her, before he stands up straight and recomposes himself. He dresses, and that’s the end of it. 
He got what he came for.
“Now, get dressed and do your hair,” he orders. “I’ve planned a party for tonight and invited your old friends.”
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