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#how quickly the blade becomes you
anouri · 1 year
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violent feelings are good, so i have heard, for your health
denis sarazhin // iain thomas // the 1975 // romeo oriogun (via @geryone) // the frights // dante émile (@orpheuslament) // jen mazza // mitski // anna świrszczyńska
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tommydarlings · 4 months
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fucktoy | f1 grid
pairing: dom!carlos sainz ; dom!daniel ricciardo ; dom!mick schumacher ; dom!charles leclerc x sub!bimbo!reader
warnings: smut, spitting, hair pulling, dacryphilia, blowjob, mention of gagging, size kink, dumbification
w/c: 0.7k
summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.
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thinking about how the f1 grid would simply use you as a stress relief, as a simple fucktoy they can use whenever and wherever they want.
Carlos — for an example — coincidentally saw you walking around in the paddock after a bad qualifying and immediately snatched you by your tiny wrist and dragged you towards the nearest bathroom, throwing your smaller frame into one of the stalls before he lifted your skirt and pushed your thong to the side, quickly freeing himself and ramming his entire length into you without any warning, forcing a high pitched gasp out of you.
“Oh my g-god, Carlos!” You loudly whined before he covered your mouth with his big palm, other hand pushing your hips a bit forward so he could probably bend your body however he pleased, making your ass perfectly stick out for him to fuck.
He groaned behind you as you felt his hand squeezing your hip, abdomen already slapping against your back while you choked on your sobs behind his hand.
“Oh f-fuck,” he dropped his forehead against the back of your head as the pace of his hips went up, making you roll your eyes into the back of your head, “fuck that stupid race this weekend, I’ll just tell Ferrari I’m sick and fuck you the whole Sunday until you're so cockdumb that you don’t even want to leave my hotel room anymore, zorra,” slut.
Or how Daniel would immediately look for you after a good qualifying, asking everybody if they had seen you.
“Where’s she?” He hastily asked Pierre who just pointed towards the Mercedes garage. Without even thanking Pierre, Daniel entered the garage and intertwined your hand with his as soon as he saw you, quickly dragging your towards the Mercedes hospitality since that was the closest room.
Only a couple of minutes later you were already bend over one of the small beds, skirt lifted up so your ass was on full display while Daniel's finger played with your wet pussy from behind.
“D-Daniel, please!” You begged in a whiny tone, making him chuckle, “Please what, little one? You have to tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” he kissed your shoulder blade before he focused his eyes on his two fingers and how they were rubbing your clit before he shoved them slowly into you, making your head fall forward.
“Oh no, no, no baby,” he laughed deeply, “you stay here while I play with you,” he harshly grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled your head back up, making you groan as he continued fingering your wet cunt.
Or how mick would not hesitate to harshly knock on your hotel room after a bad race.
“Y/n, open the door for me, please,” he would ask you, making you open the door before he would literally pick your barely covered body — since you were only in pyjamas — up and throw you onto the couch, not even bothering to go to the bedroom.
Without a second thought, he’d have your shorts and panties already removed, briefly gliding his hard and long dick up and down your pussy before he spit on it, rubbing his spit with his fingers all over your needy cunt.
He’d definitely make you watch as he entered you, placing his big hand onto the back of your head and force you to watch him enter your pretty pussy.
“You feel me inside of you, pretty girl? Hmm? You feel me stretching that poor little cunt of yours out and using it?” He’d ask you while you just dumbly nodded, “don’t play so dumb alr-” but quickly stopping his own sentence while the fingertips of his other hand rubbed your puffy clit,
“Oh you really are already dumb, baby?! But that’s okay, you’re my pretty little dumb girl, hmm? Yeah, that’s right, my dumb princess.”
Or how Charles would without a word drag you towards his drivers room after he won a race, loudly slamming the door shut before he’d remove his racing suit and pull his long erection out,
“On your knees, right now.”
And while you’re busy sucking his cock, he’d be so cocky, “Don’t you wanna pleasure the winner of the day, huh? Don’t you wanna be a good little obedient girl and satisfy the man of the race?” He’d place his hand onto the back of your head and force you to gag on his cock, making tears stain your cheeks.
“Just like that, can we go even further? Even further? Fuck yes we can, baby, you’re doing so good for the winner,” he’d praise you while he wiped some of your tears away, other hand fisting your hair and guiding your head.
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sttoru · 4 months
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‘your lover may not be the best in showing his affection for you, but when he does try, it’s always in the ways you least expect.’
☀︎|tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, slight angst, suggestive. subtly implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). size difference. mentions of hickeys. reader gets called ‘princess / little girl.’ based on an anon request.
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“am home.” toji announces under his breath after locking the front door. he kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards your shared bedroom. as expected, you were there, body wrapped in a thick blanket to protect it from the recently cold temperatures.
you smile and toji’s fatigue becomes nonexistent. it was like he hadn’t just fought for his life for almost two hours straight — making money to quite literally survive. and to provide for you in the best way he could.
“ah, hi, babe! welcome hom—” your sentence was cut short by a heavy weight settling down atop your chest. toji’s body presses you back into the mattress, big hands instantly searching for their desired destination; that being your waist.
his warm breath - the heavy sigh that carried his worries - instantly softens the look in your eyes. it was this vulnerable side of your lover that you adored most. it wasn’t a sight you got to see often after all.
toji wordlessly attaches his lips to your exposed neck as he withdraws the blanket from your body. even though he has yet to utter a single word to you, his actions told you all, “missed you, toji.”
he mumbles something incoherent in response which you could guess were words of acknowledgement. you were ticklish, your skin tingling with every peck left by the dark-haired man whom you loved dearly.
“were ya waitin’ for me?” toji’s voice was muffled, his mouth busy kissing and sucking your skin. his rough fingers move under your clothes and run up to your shoulders—freeing them from the straps of your top.
you tilt your head to the right so he could gain more access to your skin. you didn’t protest nor said anything about toji’s sudden display of affection. you rub his back and allow a hum of satisfaction to escape your throat, “mhm. was waiting for you all night.”
your voice sounds like a soothing lullaby to the older man. a heavy breath leaves his lips and his sloppy kisses on your neck and shoulder blades abruptly come to a halt.
toji rests his head in the crook of your neck. the pad of his thumb travels up and down the marks he had left—his saliva subtly glistening under the light from the bedside lamp.
“tsk. i told ya not to stay up f’me, princess.” your lover grumbles with his tired eyes half-closed, fingers not stopping their rubbing motion, “but i guess there’s no point in tellin’ you that right now.”
toji still can’t understand why you go to great lengths to show your love for him. he’s a cold hearted assassin, a man whom is feared by many including his own clan and yet you love him unconditionally.
despite it all — he still appreciates the fact that you stay up to welcome him home. even if he may not directly show that said appreciation.
“‘i told ya not to stay up for me,’” you teasingly mimic toji’s deep voice and can only laugh at your own antics afterwards. however, a sudden pinch to your side makes you squirm and yelp. it didn’t stop there; toji took the opportunity whilst you were caged underneath him to remind you of who’s boss.
soon enough your high pitched squealing and broken giggles is all the noise that fills the room.
“whadd’ya say there, little girl?” toji grunts as he blocks your futile attempts to escape. he could see the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your body writhing around the best it could and your little hands trying desperately to push him away.
you shake your head and continuously apologise between loud giggles, vision blurry from the tears of joy. there’s a triumphant smirk on toji’s face once he notices how quickly you gave up your act of confidence, “heh, that’s what i thought.”
one of his hands gathers both of your wrists and effortlessly pins them above your head. with a grin, your lover kisses his way down to your neck again — this time being more passionate.
you take the chance to calm yourself down, chest still heaving with each breath. a pout forms on your lips, but was swiftly replaced by a content smile due to the giddy feeling in your chest.
it’s playful moments like these that remind you of the many reasons why you’ve fallen in love with a man like toji. to others, he might be nothing but a monster—a ruthless and cruel individual—but to you, he’s everything you need and vice versa.
toji’s lips were soft, yet lightly rough to the touch. they’re chapped from the cold temperature he had to withstand when he was outside. you felt bad; you had been laying in bed all night, wrapped up in multiple blankets whilst your lover was quietly suffering.
you know that if you tell toji your current worries, he’ll brush it off with a simple ‘tha’s just how it is’ or a ‘don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that’. still, you cannot help but be concerned about the way he easily disregards his own health.
“toji,” you call out his name as his kisses reach the curve of your breasts. the older man lifts his head in response, eyebrows slightly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips.
you push down the lump in your throat. your warm hands cup his face and you could feel his stubble prickling your palms. you lower your gaze to the rest of his body — finally getting a good look at his worn out physique.
there were faint droplets of blood hidden right under the collar of his shirt. ones toji probably forgot to wipe away after his mission. his black shirt clings to his torso, the dark spots of sweat subtly evident and the small tears in the fabric proof of his hard work.
you could care less about the fact that toji hadn’t taken a shower before cuddling with you. the first thing he did when stepping into the apartment, was to search for you. that alone told you enough: he needed the comfort your presence brings him — he just didn’t know how to convey that message.
“kiss me.” you whisper and your lover immediately complies with zero hesitation; that’s exactly what he had waited for you to say. his lips crash down onto yours, his large hands hold you by your waist and his tongue brushes against yours like it was the first and last time you’d kiss.
toji’s breath hitches the moment he feels you tenderly scratch his arms with your nails. you always do that to calm his nerves after a stressful day—grazing the tips of your nails back and forth against his bare skin. and it works wonders each time.
“fuck,” the dark-haired man curses in a low tone. his grip tightens on your body and his lips detach from yours. you notice the look in his eyes once he opens them; the look of pure love for you, “i missed you so much — so fuckin’ much.”
you softly giggle at his passionate words and steal another kiss from him before settling back against the pillows. your hands travel upwards to play with his damp hair whilst your legs wrap around his waist.
toji gladly accepts your affection and settles down on top of your body again, careful not to completely crush you with his weight. his face was buried between your breasts, taking in the familiar scent of you which calms him down even more.
“i’m glad you’re back home.” you whisper lovingly whilst continuing to massage his scalp. your tired lover answers with a curt nod and a sigh — this time one of content instead of exhaustion.
“yeah, home.” toji wasn’t referring to your shared apartment. he was referring to you; his forever home. there was an overwhelming amount of love in his heart for you and only you.
if only he could properly express those feelings to you. if only he could express himself.
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valeskafics · 28 days
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"Runaway Bride" - Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader
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a/n: combined two anon requests with one from @the-shadow-queen02. i hope y'all like this 🩷
Summary: When you escape your husband, he follows you, vowing that he will always find you.
TW: DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, chase kink ig, free use kink, breeding kink, public sex, degradation, inkpie, p in v sex, fingering, cock warming, spit kink, tiddy succin, overstim, murder
Word Count: 2,750
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Ever since you were a young girl, you were told that when you left Caladan for Giedi Prime, you would cease to be an Atreides. That when you married Feyd Rautha, you would become a Harkonnen. The idea terrified you even then. You loved your parents and Paul deeply. Abandoning them forever, giving up such an integral part of your identity… You knew your betrothed was a famed fighter. So every night you prayed that he might fall in battle. That his blade may chip and shatter. But he remained undefeated. And you? You continued being trained by your mother into being the perfect little wife for the Harkonnen. She never had much interest in you, though she did love you dearly. You always felt she preferred Paul. Your father, however? You were his little darling. You could do no wrong as far as he was concerned. The day you left for Giedi Prime, it was he who you found most difficult to leave behind, bawling into his chest.
Your betrothed was much different than you expected him to be. In fact, you’re not sure what you expected at all. But it wasn’t him? It surprised you that he had no hair, but you had to admit the lack of it emphasized his refined features, those aristocratic high cheekbones and piercing eyes, those full lips hiding his teeth, painted black to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. Perhaps that’s what you were too. His enemy. For he certainly struck fear into your heart when he approached you, with all the grace of a predator stalking its next meal. He circled you appraisingly, seeming fairly amused at the way you tried to hold your head high, the way you tried to show no trepidation at marrying him. Feyd stopped short in front of you, his stare boring into your own. Though you wore the dress sent for your impending nuptials, his gaze made you feel as though you were as naked as the day you were born.
“Are you afraid of me?”
His voice wasn’t at all how you imagined. Feyd sounded almost more like an animal than a human - a low rasp more than actual words. He sensed your hesitation in responding, a cruel smile spreading across his lips at the realization. 
You saw no point in lying, so you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “Yes.”
Feyd seemed almost impressed by your candor, though it’s fleeting as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin, making the hairs on your neck stand on end as he murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “Good. You should be.”
The wedding customs of the Harkonnen were already known to you. From the exchange of blood to the bridal hunt, you were fully aware of everything. The coppery tang of Feyd’s blood lingered on your lips as you ran through the halls, the heels of your shoes clacking on the black marble floor. It was laughable, how quickly Feyd caught up to you. He grinned down at you as he pinned you to the ground, your arms above your head.
“Were you even trying to run?” He mocked, running a hand along your side.
You remember it vividly - the way he stared at you, the way he used his knife to cut open your dress, leaving your body bare and vulnerable before him. The way he used his fingers to ease you open for him, claiming he was too large to fit otherwise. You doubted it until he disrobed, right there in the hallway, his length swaying from side to side as he grasped the base of it, giving it a few quick tugs, working himself to full hardness. Feyd Rautha was beautiful, in a lethal, terrifying way. And you hated yourself for the wetness between your thighs, the way you parted your legs to accommodate him. The way you allowed him to fuck you like a whore on the ground, only meters away from the chambers you were going to share with him.
Feyd was a man of voracious appetites, and he seemed to want you at all hours of the day. Given a taste of physical love, of the pleasure and the pain he could give you in perfect harmony, you were addicted. You hated him, but you were addicted. It wasn’t uncommon for him to simply take you at the breakfast table, lifting you up and burying himself between your thighs, his inky black spend dripping from your cunt as you walked back to your chambers to clean yourself off. He became so obsessed with the thought of having you, of breeding you, that he even started calling you into his strategy meetings, if only to have you sit on his cock, “to keep him warm and ready for afterward”.
And so, you’d do as he asked, moving your dress aside, revealing the fact that you’d foregone wearing any undergarments - at his insistence - slowly sinking down on his cock with a soft gasp, doing your best not to move. At first, the other Harkonnen, particularly Feyd’s brother Rabban, were skeptical about your and Feyd’s escapades, particularly during these meetings. You were a member of the House Atreides, their sworn enemies, after all. How could they trust that you wouldn’t go running to tell your father their secrets? Their plans to reclaim Arrakis after it was given to him? What if you were a spy? Feyd would merely chuckle, shaking his head. And one day?
He simply bent you over the table, holding your hands down as he fucked into you like a hungry animal, declaring to all those present, “She’s no spy. She’s a cock-hungry whore. All she wishes for is my seed. For me to fill her with my cock, over and over again.” 
He tugged your hair up, forcing you to meet the gazes of the men present, particularly Rabban, your eyes glazed over with pleasure as he continued rutting against you. His large hand moved to grasp at your throat, making you choke ever so slightly as his thrusts began to slow, his balls slapping against your ass, tightening before he reached his release, filling you with his seed. And like the good little cockslut that you were, you came around his cock mere seconds later. Feyd always demanded you be dressed in white so the evidence of his claim on you could be seen in the stains on your clothing. You were so submissive for him, so docile and pliant. Always so ready and willing for him to take you.
That’s why it came as such a shock when you did indeed betray him upon hearing the plans that Baron Vladimir had for your father. All this time, you had been listening, waiting for the right moment to escape. Your words of affection, spoken in the dark of the night as you lay in each other’s arms, meant nothing, it would seem. The first chance you had, you went running back to your pathetic family. To Arrakis, where they now resided.
Feyd knows Arrakis. He’s visited there more times than he can count. You? A sweet little thing like you won’t last a day. Besides, you need him. Despite the letter you left him stating that you hated him, hated his family, and he’d never see you again, Feyd knows your destinies are forever intertwined. That he is bound to you and you to him, whether you like it or not.
So he is going to find you. And he is going to bring you back, his precious little wife, willingly or in chains.
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Feyd arrives on Arrakis, his uncle having already laid siege to the palace at Arrakeen. Feyd has no interest in what happens there. Whether Duke Leto, your mother, and Paul survive or not isn’t his problem. His sole prerogative here is to find you. To reclaim what belongs to him. Because wherever you go, he vows he will always find you, always be watching you.
He has no qualms in torturing the poor Atreides soldiers into giving up your location. Your father sent you off into the desert, it would seem, trusting that you’d be able to survive, while your mother and Paul were taken hostage. Feyd lets out a low snarl, immediately slitting the throat of the soldier who informed him before moving onto the next for information about which Sietch you may try to seek shelter at.
He kills every Atreides, every Fremen who gets in his way. His pursuit is relentless. The winds whip around him, the man in black walking through the dune, but his focus is singular. He is going to find you. His mercenaries follow behind him, his blade already coated with the blood of so many who refused to give you up. And even those who did.
The dune is harsh, unforgiving. You won’t last a day. Feyd knows that. So he counts on you slowing down, needing water which you don’t have. He despises the hold you have on him. He hates how addicted he is to you, how he craves your presence, your love, your affection, your body… He hates the power he’s given you over him. Feyd blames you for his suffering, for this addiction, this obsession. 
This weakness.
He thought he had you eating out of the palm of his hand, and yet you refused to bend to his will. He hates you. He hates you so much. But he hates the thought of losing you even more. Feyd holds a blade to one of the Fremen’s throats, demanding to know if you’ve passed. He’s catching up now, only an hour behind you, stalking you like a lion stalks a gazelle in the savannah. He can almost taste your scent on the wind, the spice in the air making everything so much more pronounced. He wonders if you’re with someone else. A lover perhaps.
No. No, he was your first. He knows that. Feyd continues pushing forward, demanding his mercenaries follow him. It’s burning him up inside, the thought of you with someone else, in their arms, being loved and cared for by them. He won’t let you go. He can’t let you go.
And when he finally catches up to you, finding you in your stillsuit, staggering through a sandstorm, on the brink of collapse, you still try to run from him. Feyd grabs you by the arm, snarling and pulling you toward him angrily, making you stumble against him. You try to resist him and it both infuriates your husband and arouses him. How dare you? After he’s come all this way? He’s come so far for you, and you run.
“Let me go!”
Feyd scoffs, a bitter laugh leaving his lips as he pulls you in even closer, forcing you to face him, “Why should I let go of what belongs to me?”
He drags you back to the thopter waiting nearby, his grip hard on the nape of your neck. He has you gagged and your hands tied, making sure that you’re unable to use the Voice against him, unable to fight. You sit there seething, glaring at him as you begin to make your way back to the Arrakeen palace. Feyd meets your vitriolic stare with one of his own, matching you in intensity. Your glare, your rage. It doesn’t faze him at all.
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You’re marched to the grand hall where your father would entertain his guests. All eyes are on you and your husband, watching as he pulls you along while you glower at him. Feyd knows you aren’t entirely confident in your skills using the Voice. That your mother focused more on training your brother than you. So he removes your gag when you reach the chair that once belonged to your father. He smirks, pulling you into his lap, his hand running through your hair. Your anger amuses him, your reactions excite him.
You still look so beautiful, your hair mussed from the desert wind as he rips the stillsuit from your body. You let out a low snarl as you glare up at Feyd, the Harkonnen standing guard nearby. Close enough to wrangle you in if the need arises. Suddenly, he knots his fingers in your hair, tugging harshly, pulling you close to him.
“Did you truly think that you could escape me?” He rasps, practically ripping your undergarments from your body, leaving you bare and vulnerable against him, while he remains fully clothed - a further testament to the power divide between the two of you, “Did you think I would not find you? I will always find you. You’re mine.”
“Fuck you,” you hiss as he bites down on your neck, his fingers moving between your thighs, toying with your wet cunt. He loves the way your body responds to him. Your mouth may lie, say that you don’t want him, that you don’t love him. But your body never does, “I’m not yours.”
Feyd pushes two fingers inside you, making you let out a moan, his breath hot against your ear as he hisses, “Yes, you are.”
He can feel it in the way you squeeze around him, the way your head lolls back against his chest. He can feel it in the way you spill yourself so quickly, your arousal coating his fingertips, which he forces between your lips to lick clean. Feyd turns you around to face him and he can feel it in your eyes, the way you watch him undo his pants, stroking at his cock. You hate him. But you desire him just as much. He moves toward you and you spit at his face, making him let out a dark laugh. Feyd merely grips your jaw, forcing your lips apart and spits, letting it land on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it, asserting his dominance over you.
And while you glare up at him disdainfully, your lips part in a moan of his name as his cock pushes past your folds. He sheathes himself inside you to the hilt, filling you completely. Feyd lifts you up onto the table, pushing you down on your back. He crawls over you and begins to pound into you like a man starved, his grip on your throat bruising, pinning your hands above your head. You feel his lips around one of your nipples, his darkened teeth leaving their stain on your skin.
He draws the filthiest noises from you, the wet squelching noise of your cunt as he moves in and out of it, the screams of his name as he brings you to the edge over and over and over. He’s going to fuck his heir into you tonight. He’d like to see you try to run after that. You reach your peak well before he’s anywhere near finished with you. Feyd pushes your knees up to your chest, his own on either side of your hips, fucking you harder and deeper than ever before. His seed will take tonight. And he will fuck you over and over and over until you learn that you belong to him. You try to turn your face from him, but he holds it in place.
“I want you to look at me,” Feyd rasps, “I want you to look me in the eyes as I spill myself inside of you. That deceitful little tongue of yours can lie, but your eyes cannot. I can see the love you have for me. The hate. And I will take it all because I can bear it. I am the only one who can.”
And so, as he spills himself inside you, his black spend dripping from your cunt, coating your thighs, your eyes remain locked on his. He uses his fingers to push back whatever leaks out back inside you, intent on keeping you here with him. Your overstimulated, sensitive body shivers at the feel of his fingers, but Feyd doesn’t care. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve brought this upon yourself.
Feyd sees how exhausted and utterly spent you look. Using his almost inhuman strength, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you out of the room, shooting a satisfied smirk at all those who have been standing around to hear the… Aftermath of your reunion.
Feyd hates you. But he loves you in equal measure, if not more. And you feel the same for him. You two are bound now. Forever.
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hirsheyskisses · 7 months
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When You're Sober.
RORONOA ZORO x READER (short)
Summary: Being Roronoa's childhood friend, he's declared for the world to hear how one day, he's going to make you his wife. As adults, you had assumed he moved on, but as it stands..
A/N: I've had this in my head for AHH so long. So I'm writing it before I go back to requests 🤣
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"..are you going to stay this time?"
Child Zoro questioned you. You sighed softly, seeing the tears pricking at his eyes pulled your heart strings in ways the young swordsman couldn't even begin to comprehend. Kuina's funeral had just ended, and Zoro had immediately sought you out. You were a slightly older swordsman pupil, by 2 years to be exact, and Zoro had latched onto you recently, with Kuina jokingly teasing you of how much he liked you. Sure, 11 and 13 weren't too big, but to a kid, it was all the difference. Still though, you couldn't help but care for him.
"..no. I'll be staying at the dojo." You replied, watching him smile, just a bit. You were both still sad after Kuina's death, and you weren't about to leave the mossball all on his lonesome- and you'd grown to like this dojo, as had your father. You were certain you could convince him to stay, rather than travel to another.
"Good! 'Cause I'm gonna marry you one day, so I can't have you leaving!" Zoro declared tearfully, through his shit eating grin, and you quickly angled your head away and growled, "we're not getting married!"
It didn't matter how many times you defended yourself, he wouldn't let up. If flustered and enraged you to no end. No matter how many battles you raged against him, no matter how many times you had him panting and defeated, holding your wooden sword to his throat, no, none of it scared Zoro.
"I'm gonna marry you one day, (Name)!"
Sometimes, Zoro would even sneak into your bed. You realized they were mostly driven by nightmares. You'd hear him slowly open the door, sniffling from tears, and walk over to you. He'd prod your side before diving under the covers with you, snuggling as close to your side as possible. "I know.. you're awake." He'd mumble, wrapping his arms around you. You'd give in, wrapping one around him. "Yeah. Hard not to when ya sneak into my bed." Zoro snuggled a bit closer. "Wanna be close. That's all." You knew it was more. He trusted you. He even began to tell you about the nightmares, and despite yourself, You'd comfort him. Hold him until he fell asleep.
It grew increasingly difficult for you to be mad at him, especially not seeing as it had become almost a game- plus his wholesome and innocent smile was so damn adorable. You figured he'd grow out of it eventually, popping out of nowhere to declare his undying love. Until then, you grew accustomed to him popping out of closets, around trees and doors, and through windows and met his confessions through the clashes of your blades.
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As it turns out, Zoro did grow out of it. The two of you had long since left the dojo together, became bounty hunters, and then became pirates on Luffy's crew. Around 16, and you being 18 is when Zoro had began to stop asking, the questions growing less and less often until they had halted altogether, his mind set on fulfilling his promise to Kuina, to become the world's strongest and carry his name to the heavens, where yours was to find the world's wonders, and the blades of your dreams. In fact, the last time he'd done so..
..Zoro had grown. He knew that, you knew that. He'd never let you live down that you're shorter than him, much to your dismay. You both had barely left the dojo, and Zoro had decided the first thing he wanted to do was drink for the first time. So that's what he did. You chose to stay sober, just in case.
What you hasn't anticipated was just how clingy he'd get when he was wasted.
"Hey.." you were leading him back to the hotel, when without any warning, he'd pulled you into an alley and pushed you gently against the wall. Zoro stared intently into your eyes and pressed himself a bit closer, you could smell the alcohol from his breath. "Fuckin- Zoro! What're ya doin?!"
"So cute.." he'd lean in and smell your hair, his earrings glinting in the moonlight, arms keeping you caged against the wall. "I've waited.. s'long. M' even of age now."
He pulled back a bit, towering over you, and you could feel yourself becoming a furious, blushing mess. Zoro himself was flushed, panting softly, lips parted ever so slightly.
"Wanna marry ya. Wanna marry ya s'bad.."
He slurred, and you flushed a deeper shade of red. His hand reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you were frozen for a long moment. Until you finally came back to your senses.
Shoving his face away, you grabbed his arm and began storming to the hotel,
"Stupid mossball! Ask me again when you're sober!"
He never did.
Sometimes you missed it, how close you and Zoro used to be. Sure, you still had complete trust in one another, and always had each other's backs in battle, but it was as though you'd both spoken so much, that you no longer spoke. You'd still train, sometimes even nap in the others presence, but words had become rarer, instead communicating through looks more often than not, quick and brief. You were beginning to miss his voice.
"(Nameeeeeee).. hey. 'chu doin' all alone?"
Speaking of Zoro- he'd joined you on the rail of the Sunny. On the beach, the rest of the straw hats were celebrating with the locals, and said locals had given Zoro an alcohol like no other. Zoro, believing his tolerance was high enough to take it, decided to drink it during a drinking contest. For the first time in a long while, he was wasted. Again.
"Relaxing. It was quite the battle today." You responded, smiling at the swordsman. His swords rested at his side, and your two rested st your side.
"It was.. f'sure." Zoro agreed, leaning against the railing, "you handled yerself good out there." He placed a hand at the small of your back, smiling at you. "Saw the new technique.. should use it against me sometime."
You awkwardly moved away from his hand, laughing softly. "Yeah, sure, when you're sober." His smile fell ever so slightly, and you tilted your head in confusion. "Ya good there, Zoro?"
"No. I'm not."
He responded, and with little warning, he had you in his arms, practically squishing you against him in a fiercsome hug. "Ack! Zoro! Can't breathe!" You yelped, laughing breathily as you struggled to escape his wrath, deciding to worry about him after you could breathe again.
"....why ya talk ta Sanji s'much?"
Zoro growled, loosening his grip and grabbing you by your shoulders, suddenly pushing you away but still holding you, at arms length. "HAH? Fuck you mean?" "It means.. exactly what I'm askin'. You even ditched training the other day.. ta' talk to that damn cook. Why?" He sounded hurt, and you grew even more confused. "'Cause he's my friend? Plus, I've been taking some cooking lessons from him to help out." Zoro scowled, clenching his teeth and flat glaring at you. His grip was tightening to the point it hurt, and you tried not to wince, instead meeting his glare with one of your own. "What's your problem, Roronoa?! They put angry juice in your damn booze?" You placed emphasis on his last name, which only caused his grip to tighten more. You watched as he opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words to say.
"My problem is, is I wanna fuckin' marry ya, and seein ya with that damn cook pisses me off."
His voice was low, and he loosened his grip, instead opting to massage your shoulders. Yet again, you'd frozen, watching Zoro's glare turn into a pout as he dropped his head.
"I know I know.. ya dont feel the same.. but.. damn it, atleast choose someone better than him."
To say you were shocked was an understatement. You'd never seen Zoro look so defeated, watching him turn his head away. He hasn't given up, but he was about to. Your heart shattered in more ways than one. As his hands dropped from your shoulders, you knew one thing: it was now or never.. but what if these were just..
You reached out and grabbed his hand, staring at the ground. You couldn't look at him- not when he looked like a kicked puppy. "Zoro.."
"...yea?"
"Ask me again. When you're sober. I'll answer you."
Then, you jumped over the edge of the ship, landing on the beach, and ran to join the others, face beet red and guilt boiling deep in your gut.
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He didn't. The next day you both went on as if nothing happened. However, after breakfast, Zoro vanished off the ship, alongside Nami. You'd decided to think nothing of it, however, part of you wished, so badly, that you'd just told him. But you had also decided that if Zoro couldn't tell you when he was sober, then it just wouldn't work.
I've loved him for years.. I thought he'd forgotten. God.. I wish I could turn back time, and accept him. I'm a fool.
"(Name)-chan? You're looking gloomy. That damn Marimo do something to you?! I swear I'll-"
Sanji had approached you, and you cut him off with a wave of your hand. "Its.. just a childhood subject came up. It's touchy." You responded, finally removing your gaze from the table to meet his gaze. Sanji sat across from you, "Wanna talk about it?"
"...not sure what good it'll do." You huffed, fidgeting with your hands. For a long moment, Sanji was silent. Which was odd, seeing as he was usually swooning over you, or whisking you away to teach you a new cooking technique.
"..things will work out between you two. Don't worry. He may be a lumbering fool, but he isn't a total idiot." Sanji said, a twinkle in his eyes. You glanced at him, "whatddya mean by that?" "I mean exactly what I said, darling."
You spent the rest of the day wondering what Sanji could've possibly meant. Working around the ship and making sure everything was ready to set sail in the morning, Chopper dancing around your feet as he helped and rambled about medical knowledge.
As time rolled around for dinner, you were moving to the kitchen with the others, laughing with Usopp at Luffy's antics, when all of a sudden,
"(NAME)! hol.. hold on." Zoro came running up behind you, with something held in his hands. Nami wasn't far behind, but she maneuvered around the two of you to stand with the others.
"Fuck.. never doin that again." He grumbled, dropping to one knee and staring up at you, chest heaving, as he pulled out a small box.
"..zoro?-"
"You.. you told me to ask again when I'm sober. So I am."
"Marry me."
He opened the box to reveal a beautiful black and gold ring. You froze, staring at it, and then at the swordsman, who was staring up at you, just as still as you.
He..
"...fuckin' hell Zoro. Yes, I'll marry you."
The grin that erupted on Zoro's face was beautiful as tears spilled from your eye, and your crewmates cheered behind you both as Zoro pulled you into his arms, slipping the ring on your finger.
"SUPPPPER! finally!" "Yohohohoho! I should play some music!" "Damn marimo.. You'd better take care of her!" Their congratulations fell on deaf ears as Zoro held you, burying his face into your shoulder. The growing wet feeling on your shoulder told you one thing: he was crying, too.
"..I love you. So much.. please, stay at my side for the rest of eternity." He whispered, voice raspy, and you melted into his hold,
"Always, and forever. I've always been yours, Zoro."
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starry-bi-sky · 2 months
Text
Danielle and Danyal's meeting... very, very quickly goes very sour from, basically, the moment Danny steps into his room and finds Ellie sitting on his bed (strike one) and reading the comic books Tucker introduced him to (strike two). By the time she's looked up to address him, Danny has the door locked, and a hand hovering near the knife hidden under his shirt.
She gets her third strike when Danny, in a voice that could make the mountains tremble, demands to know how she got into his room, and she lies (with uncertainty of her decision growing in her chest) that Jazz let her in. Danny's hand shifts closer to his weapon, and he turns towards her fully, and says that Jazz would never let someone he didn’t know into his room, and who was she.
(Vlad Masters had underprepared Danielle for her meeting with Danny -- not out of any completely direct malicious intent, but he failed to mention just how... 'touchy' Daniel could be -- he failed to mention the scars littering up his arms, unhidden by the hoodie tee he meets Ellie in. He failed to mention that along with those scars, that Danny was visibly lean, capable of doing very real damage without the use of his powers.)
(He tells Ellie that he’s adopted, and that he is observant and clever, but ungrateful and has a bad attitude.)
Her final strike occurs when Ellie, trying to keep her facade of cheeriness, tells him that she’s his third cousin once removed. Immediately, Danny has his dagger pulled out, and Ellie finds herself with the cold metal of a blade pressing against her throat.
Danyal 'A.G' Fenton hasn’t killed since he arrived in Amity Park. At first it was because mother told him to keep a low profile, and killing would do the opposite of that. But, he's been slowly learning from his sister and friends over the years the value of human life. So it's become a combination of keeping his head down, and also that life has value to it.
But. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill, nor is he opposed to doing it if the situation calls for it. It just means that he doesn't do it. And ‘Danielle’ is an unknown in his room, claiming to be family to him, and appearing uncannily similar to him and his family. Either someone hired her and she was trying to pass herself off as a relative to him because that someone realized Danny was the biggest threat, or, his false death has been compromised, his mother was unable to tell him, and the league was aware he was alive.
No matter how he looks at it, this Danielle was a threat to him, his sister, his friends, to Damian, and to the Drs. Fenton. Danyal Fenton doesn't kill, but he has no problems doing so.
(Ellie, pinned under Danny’s knee and the blade to her neck, is too terrified to think of phasing out of his hold. Not that it would help, he would just chase after her.)
“You have broken into my home, dared to lie to my face, and when I demanded to know the truth, you dared lie to me again." Danny's scowl could cower even Skulker, his glacier blue eyes burning. "Your continual breath has been a favor from me, that I have graciously allowed, from the moment you entered my room, dahkil."
"So I will ask one more time," he hisses, "who. are. you."
Danielle, only a few months old, unprepared for the ice storm that is "Daniel" Fenton, and his clone in only flesh and blood, and not memories, immediately breaks. And tells him that she was his clone, that Vlad sent her to come capture him, and to please not kill her.
Danny's face twists with anger, Ellie thinks he's going to kill her anyways. Instead, he withdraws his knife and gets off her, stringing out curses in Arabic as he sheathes his weapon back into its hiding place faster than Ellie can blink.
He switches to English as she is collecting her bearings (and contemplating fleeing), and Danny paces the room like a tiger in a cage. "--of course that wretched, arrogant, peacocking little ingrate would do something so infuriating. I should have driven my sword into the shrivel of his heart when I had the chance--"
Ellie, for a moment, thinks of leaving while he is distracted. And starts to slowly creep away. But Danny notices instantly, and whirls on her. His too-bright eyes bore into her head: "Where do you think you're going."
"...I'm leaving."
And Danny scoffs at her, "Why? So you can fly back to Masters and tell him that you failed to capture me, and that I know that he cloned me?" He says, and Ellie remains silent -- that's exactly what she was going to do. "He will destroy you within seconds."
Of course, Ellie rears back in offense, and she finds the footing to glare at him. "He would not! He's my dad, he loves me!"
Danny gets in her face, glowering back with an equal intensity. "He does not." He snaps, "Vlad Masters has not a soul in his body nor a heart in his chest. He would sooner cut off the hand that helps him stand, than to take it along with him."
"If you're really made of my blood, then I will teach you only this: we bow not our heads nor our hearts to anyone." Danny's too-blue eyes narrow, and his voice dips into a hiss, "Especially not to a conniving snake like Masters. Your heart: cut it off, or cut it out. He will sooner leave you to bleed."
Then, he unlocks the door and drags her out before she has much time to act. And as he drags her down the hall he shoots Sam and Tucker a text, and they meet up at Nasty Burger. Ellie is a spitfire, but Danny has her too intimidated to leave.
"This is Danielle," he tells them bluntly as he corners her into the booth, "she's my clone. Masters created her."
Ellie is with them for a week, and somehow throughout that time, Danny manages to actually get her to like him throughout that time. He's callous, blunt, and full of sharp edges that you can cut yourself on. But when he's not spitting venom, he's fretting.
When he drags her back to the house after being with Sam and Tucker, he pulls her to Jazz's room and opens the door to tell her the same thing. "This is Danielle." He says upon abruptly opening the door, interrupting Jazz's studying as he pulls Ellie inside. "She is my clone, Masters created her. She needs clothes."
Then he turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Ellie, in that moment, thinks that now's her chance to flee. But Jazz then squeals, and she is trapped in new arms, shaken around by Jazz Fenton, excited for a sister.
(Ellie finds herself complaining to Jazz that night, shoved into old pajamas. She's in utter disbelief that Jazz could care about a jerk like Danny.)
("He's rough around the edges, but Danny does care." Jazz tells her, combing through her hair with her fingers. "We've been working on it ever since he joined the family, but Danny warms up slowly. He's usually less stoney; I think your arrival spooked him.")
("Spooked him?" Ellie repeats, she doesn't believe it at all. "He has a funny way of showing it, he threatened to kill me!" And she turns around just in time to see Jazz's press her lips into a line.)
("He's... very protective. He'll deny if you ask him, but he worries a lot." Jazz's fingers find her hair again. "What I do know for certain though, is that he wouldn't have kept you here if he wasn't worried about you at least a little bit.")
(Ellie doubts it.)
But Ellie is indeed there for a week, and the day after her initially rocky introduction with Danny, he is a little bit kinder to her. Still kinda a bitch, but he's less harsh to her, if... almost uncomfortable around her. Flighty, kinda.
Whenever she gets mouthy at him though, he looks oddly smug about it and, infuriatingly enough, praises her attitude. He is very, very annoying. And still kinda terrifying. But hearing him shout insults via puns at someone during a ghost fight that happens that week lessens the intimidating factor,,, a little bit.
Things go about,,,, relatively,,,, similar to canon. In the sense that it ends with Ellie defecting from Vlad because she finds out that Danny was right and that Vlad didn't actually care about her. (And that Jazz had been right too; Danny, in his weird, mean way, had been worried about her as well)
Danny looks out of his depth as she talks about how he was right, and he cuts her off with a vaguely uncomfortable clearing of his throat. And gives her the most awkward, but genuine apology he can muster.
"I should've used more tact when telling you about Masters, and I... apologize for threatening you when we met. I was..." he makes a face like he's sucked on a particularly sour lemon, "worried. First about my family, and then later about you."
(Ellie will be damned: Jazz was right)
Before Ellie leaves, Danny puts a hand on her shoulder and tells her: "I wasn't kidding about what I said to you when we first met: you are of my blood, and as such, you do not bow your head nor your heart to anyone."
Ellie looks at him, thinks about the last week, and smiles like she's caught him in a trap. "What about Sam and Tucker then? And Jazz?"
Danny smiles, it's awkward and tilted, like his face isn't used to the gesture. "We bow not our hearts, but that doesn't mean we can't share."
#danny speaks in formal english when he's pissed. he goes full on 'i shall eat his heart in the marketplace' levels of formal#not quite a ficlet not quite a post talking about the idea but a secret third option: its both of these at the same time#dp x dc#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp au#dpxdc au#dcdp#dpdc au#dp dc crossover#older brother danny#danny is an asshole with a heart of gold#the writing feels all over the place but since its not a fic i dont feel that self conscious about it lol. very much spitballing here#morally gray danny fenton#poc danny fenton#look ellie MIGHt - and thats a big if - have gotten away with the cousin lie if it weren't for the fact that she's danny's clone#danny who is not white nor remotely white-passing in this au. she might have gotten away if he had been and she claimed she was#from jack's side of the family. but alas. danny is adopted. the fentons are whiter than sunscreen. and danny is not.#dani and danny's meeting in danyal al ghul aus have the potenial of being IMMEDIATE dumpster fires which is very funny to me#on the basis of if danny knows he's adopted or not and if dani claims to be related directly to him or to jack.#dani: im your third cousin once removed :)#danny. is adopted: i kNOW YOU LYING. CUZ YO LIPS ARE MOVING#i got fanart for this au on haunting heroes discord and it kickstarted my thoughts about danyal again. they gave him the BATWING EYEBROWS#ellie has the batwing eyebrows too that was the mind killer thats what fucked her over /j. those are UNIQUELY BRUCE WAYNE BROWS FOLKS#fuck i wish tumblr told us on laptop when we run out of tags because i just lost like 4 of them. good thing i got screenies those were FUNN
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fangswbenefits · 3 months
Text
Backfire
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(amazing art by @dopepoisonivyoncrack 🥺🩷 thank you so much!)
Summary: You should have known better than to make Astarion jealous, and now you are left to deal with the consequences.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Jealous/Possessive Astarion. Orgasm denial. Fingering. Edging. PiV. Creampie. Knife (dagger) play. Body worship. Innuendo.
Word count: 3.4k
You vaguely wondered how long it would take to set Astarion off.
He was glancing at you from across the camp, leaning against an oak tree as he twirled a dagger in between his masterful fingers.
The fluid motion broke your concentration for a moment.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and you quickly realised he was aware of your attempts.
Shit.
So much for subtlety.
Maybe you should have picked Wyll to test his jealousy as you reckoned it would have been more effective.
But now it was too late.
You feigned innocence as you patted Gale's arm, mindlessly nodding as he happily explained the intricacies of a chicken broth that he was preparing for later.
“See, the essence of this dish lies in getting the proper ingredients,” he went on, dipping the ladle into the steaming pot and stirring it gently before bringing it to his lips. “Hmm. Definitely lacking something, as I suspected.”
“Really? It smells very pleasant,” you said truthfully as the soft breeze wafted the delectable fragrance your way.
Gale raised one finger. “Mushrooms.”
“What?”
He nodded. “It requires a touch of mushrooms to fully bring out its flavour.”
You patted his shoulder with a warm smile. “I’m sure we can do without it.”
But Gale’s enthusiasm immediately wavered, his brows sinking. “Absolutely not. We require a proper meal and a proper meal is what I shall provide.”
Oh.
He stirred the broth again before rummaging through a satchel at his feet. “Well, I don’t suppose you could fetch me a few?”
Glancing over your shoulder, you found that Astarion had vanished.
Shit.
Your plan shattered into pieces as the object of your teasing was nowhere to be seen.
“Could you?”
Gale’s voice snapped you out of your frustration and you found yourself frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I need some mushrooms, my friend.”
Your frown deepened, but you really had no choice now and a refusal would most likely break his heart.
“Where can I find them?”
Gale beamed with a wide grin. “I spotted a few on the side of the road and near some trees as we were setting up camp. I was foolish enough not to pick them and now I’m burdening you.”
You shrugged with a sigh. “It’s no bother. I was the one who asked you to teach me some of your cooking tricks.
“Ah! You should have trained to become a wizard,” he said with an approving nod. “A hungry stomach and an equally hungry mind.”
As much as you wished to return his enthusiasm, you couldn’t help but to feel annoyed at yourself for the appalling attempt at riling Astarion up.
Maybe he had seen right through it and merely walked off, probably chuckling.
But maybe you had stirred something inside him that ultimately caused him to leave.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
You followed Gale’s instructions, nearing a forest area, shaded from the sun as the canopies of the surrounding trees grew denser and branches intertwined with each other above you.
It didn’t take you long to spot a conglomerate of a few rounded caps by the protruding roots of a large and thick oak tree.
Unsheathing your dagger, you squatted down and began dicing through the spongy stalks.
You were halfway through your task, when you felt the cold press of metal resting on the side of your neck, freezing you in place.
A smile crept across your face.
“I don’t suppose you value your life enough if it’s this easy to sneak up on you.” The blade moved upwards and along your jaw, causing you to turn your head. “Darling.”
You flinched away from Astarion’s grasp and both of you rose to your feet in an instant.
“I doubt any foe would be as delicate as you should they intend to truly harm me.”
He twirled his dagger, offering a devious smile. “Point taken.”
As expected, praising him always did wonders. 
And it was absolutely true and equally expected that a skilled rogue could move in the shadows with unmatched prowess. 
But then, the mood shifted as he deepened his smile. “What were you doing back there with Gale?”
Oh?
You cleared your throat, sheathing your blade once again at your hip. “I was merely observing his cooking skills.”
He took a step in your direction.
“Were you, now?”
“Yes.”
He scoffed. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, darling.”
You allowed yourself to move back with each step he took. “And you’re not as perceptive as you think you are.”
“You weren’t trying to deliberately make me jealous, were you?”
You shook your head, feeling your heart drumming hastily in your chest.
Astarion’s feet only came to a brief halt once your back hit the rough surface of the tree trunk behind you, effectively rendering you immobile.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
A shameless lie that he immediately tackled. “A lousy liar who’s even worse at vexing me,” he tutted before pressing one knee right in between your legs. “I taught you better than this.”
The air in your lungs stilled momentarily as his arms were now on either side of your head, caging you. 
“Gale was the one offering his teachings.”
He dropped one hand below your chin, tapping it teasingly with the side of his blade and tilting your head back. “Please. I highly doubt that dullard could offer anything of value where it really counts.”
“Astarion…” you drawled in delight. “Are you actually jealous?”
His brows furrowed together. “Obviously not.”
Inside, you were thoroughly enjoying how your fleeting attempt had indeed been successful, despite Astarion’s denial.
You could see it in his narrowed crimson eyes and how the faintest of scowls deepened the lines on his handsome face.
That stroked your ego in a way that almost made you shudder.
You tried to ignore how he was now pressing his knee harder.
His lips almost brushed against your and, for a split second, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he tipped his head to the side and you felt his cold touch on your cheek.
A shiver ran down your spine and you gripped his arms.
“What are you doing?”
He chuckled. “Showing you what really counts.”
“And what is that?” you asked, words coming out shaky.
Astarion adored taunting you with words, but he excelled at rendering you speechless with his skilled touch. 
So it came as no surprise when eventually sheathed his blade and had his hand tug your shirt free from the waistband of your trousers, sliding his hand underneath.
This was bad for you.
Terrible, in fact.
He had the upper hand.
And he fucking knew it.
His fingers brushed along your lower abdomen and his voice was raspy in your ear. “If I slide my hand inside… what will I find?”
Your body was too used to him by now to the point that he could have you throbbing for him with little effort.
The knee dropped and you almost whined at the loss of friction against your swelling clit.
“Answer me,” he said, tugging at the waistband.
You swallowed. “Nothing much…”
Was there even a point in deceiving him now? 
Expert fingers tugged at the lacings, loosening the fabric just enough for him to be able to slip underneath, his fingertips gently gliding in between your folds, avoiding your clit altogether. 
But you were wet enough to draw a pleased grunt from him.“What is this, then?”
You gasped, involuntarily clenching around nothing and feeling a gush of wetness spilling as your body reacted in anticipation.
“Use your fingers properly and find out.”
Your taunt didn’t go amiss. “Maybe an apology is in order,” he said, arrogance dripping from each word. “It seems that your foolish attempt at making me jealous has backfired.”
Much to your frustration, your hips rolled into his touch, silently wishing he would stop avoiding your swell.
“How has it backfired?” you managed to say as one finger teased your entrance.
He ignored your question and began trailing kisses along your jawline, his other hand working hurriedly at the front of your shirt.
Of course.
You knew all too well that you’d feel his cock hard enough if he was already this eager to expose your breasts.
One by one, he undid each lacing, and he pulled back just enough for his gaze to drop as the fabric parted and he gently pulled down the binding that held your chest in place.
Your nipples quickly hardened and you rolled your hips once more, causing one of his fingers to slide inside.
He hadn’t intended for that to happen, but he was so transfixed with your breasts that he was caught off guard.
It was the vicious clenches around his finger that snapped him out of it and his lustful eyes met yours. “Give me one reason not to slide out of you.”
You smiled in between gasps as he sank deep inside. “Should I ask Gale what he’d do in your position, then?”
And just like that, Astarion snapped.
A second finger slithered past your tightness and he brought his lips to your ear. “Careful, darling. Choose your words wisely or you’ll be riding your own mage hand instead.”
Oh, this was delicious.
Astarion was visibly annoyed and it did wonders to your confidence. 
It wasn’t easy to get him all worked up, but it only fueled your ego and made you quicken the pace.
Your whimpers increased in intensity and you looped your arms around his neck for added support, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go knuckle-deep and you shuddered as his strained erection pressed against his hand nudged him even deeper.
He groaned first, clearly enjoying the newfound friction, and you clenched hard at how his face twisted in pleasure.
“Look over my shoulder,” he suddenly said, his half-hooded eyes finding yours.
Somehow, and in between each roll of your hips, you complied, realising just how close to camp you truly were. Close enough to make out the silhouette of Shadowheart who was now at Gale’s side as he worked on his broth, probably wondering what was taking you so long to bring him some mushrooms.
“What about it?” you asked, a bit louder than intended when he sank all the way in once more.
His lips brushed against yours this time, dragging his fingers back as you clenched desperately around him. “You either keep it down or we’ll have an audience soon enough.”
“Would you mind?”
He stilled abruptly. 
“What? Having Gale hear you coming undone for me?” he taunted as you tried to have him back inside, your hips following his retreating hand. “That he would soon realise he could never provide such bliss to his lover?”
You whined in responde, frustrated that you were now faced with an agonising emptiness.
“See, darling,” he continued, sliding one finger back inside, but not quite deep enough to fully satisfy you. “I can be quite generous when I want to.”
“But what?” you groaned, trying to have him sink deeper to no avail.
There was always a ‘but’.
He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back. “But I am not willing to share your cries of pleasure with anyone else.”
“Then silence me.”
The most devious grin settled on his face and you knew you had just offered a challenge he would gladly take.
And with his other hand, you watched as he brought the handle of his dagger close to your lips.
“Open.”
Your eyes widened and your heart immediately skipped a beat. “Astarion…”
“As much as I’d love to have your lips wrapped around my cock,” he said with a click of his tongue, parting your lips for him. “I am more interested in finding out how quiet my dagger can make you.”
You clenched around him so fiercely he actually growled.
Your teeth sank into the handle and you readied yourself for what was to come.
Astarion trailed your lower lip affectionately as it wrapped around the leather wrappings and a second finger joined the first, the heel of his palm rubbing against your clit as he pumped in and out, never breaking eye contact with you.
The moans and whimpers and gasps that slipped from you were being effectively muffled and you were thankful he had decided to silence you this way, because when the third finger nudged at your entrance, you could only roll your eyes shut as your bit hard around his dagger.
“Surely you can take one more,” he teased, his voice low.
You eagerly nodded, rolling your hips into him, knowing you were more than ready for the added thickness.
It slid inside painfully slowly and the stretch had you gasping and nearly dropping his dagger, which he promptly secured in place.
“Now, I know it’s not as thick as my cock, but I am sure you can keep those pretty lips wrapped around it,” he taunted.
You groaned with a nod eager to please.
Eager to come undone for him.
The combination of being so full of him and how he allowed you to rub your clit on his palm was too much. The lewd sounds were almost too obscene and you gripped both hands together, holding onto the remainder of the sanity you had left.
For a brief moment, he allowed you to ride three of his fingers, giving you the illusion that you’d reach your peak easily and rather quickly.
But Astarion wasn’t forgiving even if he had been rather generous thus far. 
And you should have known that your actions would have consequences.
His generosity came to an abrupt halt just as you felt the familiar coil down below becoming more and more overwhelming, your body quickly reaching the point of no return.
Your gasps were now becoming more erratic and you were visibly struggling to keep a hold of the dagger in your mouth.
And then you felt a painful emptiness as he pulled out from you at once.
He chuckled when you groaned in sheer frustration, not allowing you to spit the dagger out and curse him to the Nine Hells.
You felt the urge to cry as he denied you from reaching your high, your hips still moving on their own accord in the hopes of finding his fingers again.
“Now, now,” he tutted, caressing your flushed cheek with his thumb, a single tear streaming down your face. “You didn’t think I would be that generous, did you?” 
Fuck you!
Your words came out muffled, but he understood enough to continue his taunt. “I know you want to, but not before I have some assurances first.”
Impatience took over you, but you managed to arch an inquisitive brow at him.
He pressed his lips where his thumb had been, kissing your tear away. “Tell me no one can make you feel like this.”
Your eyes widened once more as he pulled the dagger from your teetering teeth.
“I’m all pointy ears, love,” he urged, meeting your eyes. “Go on.”
Astarion adored being praised, but this was just cruel.
Your teasing hadn’t been solid enough to warrant such punishment. You had been so close to your peak… 
“Astarion…”
He shook his head with a frown. “No, no, no. You do not get ‘cuddly and sweet Astarion’ after what you’ve pulled, sweetheart.”
Your hands came to grip his shoulders almost pleadingly, but you knew you had no other choice if you were to reach your climax anytime soon.
“No one can… no one…” you whispered, your voice cracking.
But he wasn’t satisfied.
Of course he wasn’t.
It took more than that to fill his ego.
“I’ve ruined you for anyone else,” he said with an intense smile. “You know that, don’t you?”
You immediately nodded, fully agreeing and not out of despair.
“Can you be good for me, then?”
Another nod as you tried to nudge him closer with the leg wrapped around his waist just to prove your point.
“Your pleasure is mine,” he said, bringing the handle of his dagger back to your lips and, this time, you quickly wrapped them around it. “My pleasure is yours.”
He removed his hand from inside your trousers and he pushed your leg down so he could tug them down your legs to give him better access.
Once you had slipped out of them, he eagerly wrapped you around his waist as he tugged at the front of his own trousers, until he freed his cock.
You gave it a quick glance, pleased to find the tip glistening with precum.
“Bite down hard, darling,” he warned, aligning you with him. “I know you adore how my cock stretches you.”
You did as you were told and he sank into you in one swift thrust of his hips.
He was all the way in and your back arched as he steadied you with both hands.
The first clenches around his cock made him mumble a string of curses as he tried to adjust to your tightness.
It didn’t take long for him to set the pace, slowly fucking you against the oak tree.
You weren’t going to last long from this new angle, and neither was he. It would be rather easy to get him to lose all control if you lost yours first. Astarion was rarely able to withstand your contractions as you rode out your climax.
His eyes were locked on yours, but something caught your attention.
Suddenly, your hazy eyes managed to focus on the camp nearby and you watched as someone seemed to be approaching in the distance.
Oh… fuck…
Was it Gale?
No.
It was Wyll.
You clenched around him almost panicking, until you realised he wasn’t coming any closer and had simply taken a turn down the hill, waving at Gale.
Your mind was too overtaken by how his cock felt inside you to care about the context of that exchange. 
Having Astarion being so eager to prove you that no one else could fuck you this way, had you undulating your body against his, always making sure he could bure himself fully inside you with each thrust.
Oh.
You were too close.
“Eyes on me,” he hissed, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips.
Dangerously close.
Especially when you met his crimson eyes again.
And you almost topped over the edge at once when you saw him doing something you had never witnessed before.
He finally broke eye contact and his gaze was once again on your breasts and hardened nipples.
And then…
With his free hand, he pulled his own shirt up the length of his body, securing the hem in between his own teeth, fangs digging into the fabric.
What…
He wrapped his arm around your torso and pulled you into him, your breasts pressed against him. The sight was breathtaking as you felt your nipples rub briefly against his, earning a guttural groan from him.
Astarion allowed you to sink all the way down his cock and you could no longer hold back the intense wave of pleasure that came crashing down as you felt his balls pressed against you.
You were biting down so fiercely on the handle of his dagger, you feared youd snap it in half as your first contractions tore through your body.
He pressed your back hard against the tree, and with a final grunt into the crook of your neck, he began spilling inside you, allowing you to squeeze his cum with each of your rhythmic clenches.
You clawed at the back of his shirt, feeling your mind blank as you came down from the overwhelming height of your pleasure mixed with his.
It was hard to steady your breaths and you weren’t sure you had ever come this hard in your life, but it felt like a shared sentiment as Astarion remained buried inside you even when his cum began to spill and drip.
The dagger fell to the ground and you gasped for air, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head through his messy curls.
“Gods…” he eventually groaned, showing no intention of pulling out. 
You grunted in agreement, caressing his damp hair.
“Should I tease you again?” you almost chuckled in between heated pants. “Wyll next?”
He pulled back and shot you a murderous glare. “Don’t you dare…”
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anantaru · 10 months
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— how to make them blush
including dan heng, sampo, jing yuan, blade, gepard, welt, luocha x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, blushy boys, very cute
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contrary to popular belief, it doesn't require a lot of effort to make your boyfriend dan heng blush radiantly because of something you'd do— for instance, delicately ruffle his soft hair, or easily grabbing his hand while you‘re going on a leisure walk or placing a precious and thoughtful compliment on him so he doesn‘t forget how much you love him. it begins slowly, and dan heng doesn‘t take his eyes from you, yet the very reason you can see it focused, more unimpeded. the casting of soothing red evincing on his person, gently cascading over the outlines of his sharp features like rural waves and there he was, you smile triumphantly at him when you catch it— expressing and doughy, the luminous scarlet color.
in the early stages of your relationship, you never thought that the usual confident and self assured sampo actually had a pretty deep soft spot of being praised and complimented by you. he likes, no, adores, when you compliment the most arbitrary things he'd carry out— whether it was easily cooking you dinner, situating a pure smile on your lips or planning ahead an upcoming date for the both of you. by the stowing means of this, you decide to do it again and tell him how impossible cute he was and how much you valued all the effort he put forth, especially how so very special and ambrosial while your boyfriend will quickly stave his head away from you before you can see it, an exultant blush flickering a powerfully charming redness on his entire face.
a man, specifically a well renowned general, such as jing yuan himself was quite difficult to fluster in a way where he‘d end up blushing and reddening honest warmth. but, evidently, you weren‘t one to give up on such a big challenge, the thought of having the man blushing in front of you was far too delicious to refuse on. so, you massage his scalp, kiss him and show him your brightest smile, yet nothing seem to work for some reason. but then, it‘s different, out of the natural sphere, when after an entire day of trying your hardest to make him show any early signs of redness, you show gradual defeat, eyes heavy and low lidded, drenched in tiredness— to add onto that, jing yuan‘s chest was far too comfortable to get up from. well, little do you realize after a couple of minutes pass, you find yourself deeply slumbering on top of him, and the thought that you feel so safe and shielded by his side, made the sleepy general blush at last.
prior to you, your charming boyfriend blade wasn‘t used to being loved or cared for in his life by anyone at all. to say that this heart warming relationship with you now was a new one, was a clear understatement. be that as it may, you can catch him hide a blush from you quite frequently, especially in the early stages of your togetherness, he for no other reason cannot help himself and get easily emotional at the thought that he has you, you're his, greater reason that you love him just the way he was and accepted each flaw, each scar, without a single care throughout the entire universe. but, one particular motion that will make the man blush instantly, faster and the most distinguished— in its highest duration, was when you cuddled him in midst the night, without saying a word, both quietly tangled under the soft sheets, and you whisper a little "i love you" right against his ear shell.
gepard finds it immensely captivating when you listen to the little, fun stories he tends to tell you all after coming home from his hard work. suddenly, he becomes shy when he notices that he talked far too much and wordlessly fears that he might‘ve bored you to death by some of his seemingly uninteresting stories, or that's how he referred to them. at the same time, when he looks at you up closer and realizes that you were in fact, eagerly listening to each of the words he expelled from his lips, gepard can‘t help himself but shine a glittering red towards your direction— cheeks puckered and flustered scarlet and spreading onto his entire face. "so?" you say, effortlessly snapping him back to the present, "how does the story end?" and your boyfriend suddenly leans into you without warning, to place a subtle peck on your lips, words couldn't possibly describe that feeling.
welt doesn't blush, nope, that's the end, he unelaborately doesn't. the man keeps himself in tact pretty forthcoming and without an issue— besides, he doesn't think it's possible for him to blush in the first place. then there's you, moving your lips slightly to indicate a smile as you slant forward, "your hair." you point out, "let me fix it." and progress your hand into his strands to couple the lousy hair hanging carelessly on his forehead. it's a mess, both the bloody situation and welt who, for some unclear reason, couldn't stomach what just had happened and he quickly pulls his head away— taking off his glasses and act as if he had to clean them, even though he just did that five minutes ago. a keen smirk plays around the edges of your mouth when you realize what was going on, yet you do not speak, don't say anything, but make a mental note to never forget on how to make your usually sophisticated boyfriend the exact opposite.
luocha knows whenever you try to fluster him, beyond everything, he has observant eyes and effortlessly sees through all the teeny tiny schemes you tend to carry out with him. when you become more clingy and coo sweet nothings towards his direction, or when you decide that your boyfriend deserves a couple more kisses than the day before, he can see that you were attempting to play tricks on him and coax out the desired reaction. but what luocha did not see coming was that, as a matter of fact, it was beginning to work, quite powerful as well. conveniently there he was, having you wrapped around his strong arms as you do it again, sneakily kissing from his collarbones to the outline of his sharp jaw, until placing your lips on him at all. he instantly blushes, pulling his hand to the back of your head to keep you into the kiss, so you wouldn't catch him, wouldn't flash him a cheeky smile afterwards too when you'd realize that you managed to make him flustered at the very end.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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⌗︙・⚠︎ fuckbuddy blade becoming obsessed and possessive ⚠︎ ♡⸝⸝
The arrangement you have with Blade is simple. Meet up in secret when either of you is feeling horny, and when you're both satisfied, you can part ways until the next time. No strings attached whatsoever. It's the perfect little arrangement for someone like Blade, and you get to enjoy having the best sex you've had in a while.
But of course, someone like Blade isn't so simple.
Kisses aren't allowed, they never will be. But that doesn't stop Blade from tracing his lips against your skin at the end of another vigorous round with him, or when he hugs you against his chest, trapping you against the bed. No matter how many times you squirm away or reprimand him for getting too cozy with you, he doesn't listen. He never listens.
The hickies and bites that Blade leaves all over your body are a huge pain, especially when he leaves them in more noticeable spots. He's begun to bite so hard that he's drawn blood, teeth breaking past your skin and leaving you momentarily frozen at the pain. But Blade has found a way to twist that pain into pleasure, and it scares you. It scares you that your body has become so susceptible to change, so quick to morph itself into whatever Blade desires.
Every time you move, it causes you to wince from the stinging that pulses across your skin. Something gnaws at you from inside the pit of your stomach when you see the way Blade looks at you, covered in his marks. His gaze feels so wrong—you swear you can feel his stare even when you're not with him, creating a sinking feeling deep within your stomach— like there is just something... twisted just festering deep inside of him.
He's starting to make you second guess becoming fuckbuddies with him.
Blade grows bolder with each of your meetups, using his immense strength to pin you down so you can't run away. He grows more... unsettling. The things that he says as he's pounding into you unnerve you once the pleasure dissipates and clarity begins to sink back into your once-fucked out mind. How you're all his, how nobody else but him can ever satisfy and touch you like he can, how he'd gladly keep you all to himself if he could, how—
How he can longer live without you anymore, the thrill and addiction of watching you beneath too much to simply cut off.
"Bla—" The faint whine of his name is quickly swallowed up by calloused lips against yours. It takes you a few seconds to process what's happening, to fully realize that Blade is kissing you. But once it sinks in, your immediate reaction is to squirm, to try and pry yourself away from the man above you.
No matter how much you struggle against him, Blade doesn't budge, holding your bare body hostage beneath his as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. The unrelenting good is weakening you, destroying your resolve to push him off, to yell at him and ask him what the hell is wrong with him.
You're becoming too weak to fight him off, and the frenzied kiss is making it so hard to breathe. Your body has become so accustomed to Blade's touch, so used to welcoming him without so much as a second thought. He has twisted your body into something he can claim.
Tears well up... the tears spill over, and you simply close your eyes. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, because you know that he loves watching you snivel and whine more than anything else. But a small, morbid part of you wants to open your eyes, to see the face of the man ravaging every single part of you with primal hunger, to—
No... maybe it's a blessing in disguise that your eyes are closed now. Because you won't have to see the sick darkness that swirls in Blade's red eyes, the utterly maddening glee as he forcibly kisses you. Because you won't have to see the way his entire body, in all of its brokenness, shudders as he finally has a taste of your lips. Because you won't have to see the way his chest heaves so deeply, his heart beating so rapidly that it may break past his ribcage, spilling forth all of his blackened love and twisted obsession. Because—
Because you won't have to hear his sick thoughts, the goal of finally claiming you surely come to its rotten fruition.
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© latimeriafellfromheaven
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anouri · 2 years
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Traci Brimhall, from Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod (2020)
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missdrake · 4 months
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Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons
AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers
Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon
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Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers
You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.
Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.
Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 
They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.
Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.
As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 
Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.
While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.
Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.
Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.
That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.
They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.
Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.
Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.
Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.
Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.
Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 
The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 
A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.
Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.
A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.
Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.
Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 
As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.
It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 
The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 
Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.
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moonit3 · 6 months
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SURVIVORS
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➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, smut, noncon fingering, implied age gap, death, violence, blood, harassment, apocalypse, reader’s family dies, mentioned pregnancy, reader is scared of many things but has a gun, guns, threats, open ending.
➥ yandere! male apocalypse survivor x f! reader
➥ synopsis: you shouldn’t have let him inside.
➥ a/n: why not writing it? i had a dream like this a few nights ago and thought about it, so i had to write it before I could forget it. not to mention, also opened end guys.
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➥ the events are forever in your mind. the day that change the world when unseen creatures start appearing from nowhere and killing every human they could find, include father and mother, both who died to put you inside the bunker they made in the woods, where the door was hide behind vines and rocks inside a cave. there, you could hear their fainted scream for minutes til the creatures finally finished and leave the area for good.
➥ that bunker quickly become your home as your are too afraid to step outside to witness of what world has become. with numerous supplies stocked, running water and a huge indoor garden to plant vegetables and some chicken running around. so you began living there without worrying about lack of food nor energy as this whole place is move by the river nearby. your parents really thought of everything, didn’t they?
➥ and as expected, a live full of simplistic and cozy start up when you get used to the almost same routine every day. take care of the garden, cook meals, clean the entire place, repare old clothes and your favorite thing, catch a glimpse of the outside world. in the highest part of the bunker, there is a periscope that allow you to see almost two miles around the front of cave.
➥ one day, instead of seeing wild animals and the creatures, you see a man standing in front of the entrance with his clothes full of cuts and blood, looking almost he is ready to pass out at any given second. should you help him? he looks horrible in this state, but the last words of father still ringing in your mind, don’t let anyone enter the bunker other than you! but…he looks so miserable and lost, not to mention the sounds of the creatures around, so you helped him.
➥ ignoring the voices inside your head, you open the door and help the man to enter the bunker. the many cuts on his skin still fresh and the blood running his vests are smelling bad. im going to help you, okay? just stay here. i have a kit-aid that will give you some relief. and with the best effort, you managed to clean most the blood of him and stitch all of his cuts. even daring to wash his hair as you offered him.
➥ after treating him, you could take a better look at the mysterious man that is inside the bathtub. sharp eyes that reminds you of blades, skin full of old scars (from the creatures and other humans), full of muscles and hands way bigger than yours. this man is someone stronger to have survived in the wildness outside for the past years. however the injuries in his body isn’t going to heal anytime soon, so you offered him to stay over for a couple of weeks until he gets fully healed.
➥ a new routine began for the two of you. theo, as he introduced himself, began doing most of the task that involves hard working such as cutting firewood from the garden, fixing furniture that were broken years ago and even taking care of the chickens. in meanwhile, you took care of the cooking, cleaning and sometimes helping theo in his duties as you are afraid that he is pushing himself.
➥ don’t bother me, [name]. despite letting him living with you for the past few days, theo wasn’t got close to you nor let you take care of his wounds, saying that he knows how to handle it. he is a little stubborn, you have to admit, but you can’t let him take of his own wounds, theo barely knows how to stitch his injuries and have zero clues on how to properly use the bandages. with enough lucky and discussion, he lets you take care of him, but only if you don’t use the anesthesia.
➥ a weird request, but you listen to his words and don’t use the anesthesia when cleaning his wounds. you don’t know why he prefers it, but it’s a little comforting to see him smiling when you are changing his bandages and taking care of him. and every time after you finish doing it, he kisses your cheek as a reward. you did a great job, [name]. why he keeps doing it? you don’t know, but with every kiss that theo gives you, it’s always make your heart skip a beat louder and faster.
➥ then after weeks of living together, it was time to theo to leave the bunker when his injuries got better, but you two got so close together in this time that you offered him to stay at the bunker with you and he accepted. it’s a great offer, not gonna to lie. and staying around you is going to be better than going outside, not knowing if im going survive another day. with that, you began officially living along theo inside the bunker.
➥ and living with theo got a little weird, maybe awkward(?) as he become more touchy around you. his large hands on your waist during moments that you thought to be alone or catching him spying when you are bathing, it makes you uncomfortable of course. however, when you think to bring it up to talk about it, theo cut the subject, i think you are overthinking, [name]. you know me, i won’t never do that.
➥ his words don’t affect you and you continue to take notices of his new behavior. it’s getting worse every day goes on, his touches become more intense (always having a hand on your waist or something even lower), he enters the bathtub with you (to save water), but what did you made panic was waking up in the middle of the night with theo sleeping with you. your body laying against his chest and his hand going lower to your private parts.
———
“theo—“ he covers your mouth with the crook of his elbow, not giving you any chance to speak up with his hand going beneath your shorts, already feeling your sensitive part. this can’t be happening, it’s must be a nightmare.
without any warning, he inserted one finger inside you, resulting in your muffled scream being heard by theo only as your body shakes in fear, along with tears began to drop all over the nigh clothes. don’t worry, [name]. “i will be gentle, okay? i want to your first time to be special and unique.” so his single digit start moving inside your warmth walls, feeling how spongy and tight you are becoming due to his touch.
your body shakes when theo adds another finger inside, this is too much! you never expected to be this painful as you heard from friends back at college. your hands goes to his arm, trying to move it away his hand from your intimate parts, but ended receiving a head but from theo.
“don’t you dare! i been waiting for this for too long for you to ruin it!” another finger is put inside you, this time he goes faster and you are close, you can feel it despite not wanting to let him knowing it. “now be a good boy/girl/person and i will show you how to experience the best pleasure ever.”
the fingers began moving faster and faster, making [name]’s muffled moans turned into agonizing yells, trying to find anything to focus instead of the sensation that is inside your body. you attempt to imagine to be anywhere else, but not here, pretend that you are just with your late friends back at the town. pretending you aren’t living through hell.
and for what felt like hell, you finally came due to his fingers. a soft whimpering as you are finally give up of fighting and is already too tired from yelling for mercy, now your thighs and the sheets are dirty by your fluids, ruining the peaceful night that you wished to had, yet at least theo is over, meaning that you can go back to sleep…then you heard his zipper goes off.
“now, it’s my turn, [name].”
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@moonit3 writings
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distantdarlings · 5 months
Text
BY THE FIREPLACE // t. nott
RATING: PG-13 / 2.9K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader
+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* You have been an Animagus for around a year now. You have quite a knack for learning everything you need to know about it quickly and Professor McGonagall really likes you. However, a fellow classmate, Theodore Nott, does not like you. And you couldn't care less. Both of you are in for a surprise when you accidentally meet in the library. (Fluff?, sort of Comedy)
+ WARNINGS - Language, nothing else really
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Fantasy - Mariah Carey (don't judge me)
---
“And, ladies and gentlemen, please remember: ten inches of parchment on the side effects of incorrectly transfiguring a toad back into a human!”
Professor McGonagall’s voice pierced the slight murmuring that had started amongst the crowd of students. You suppressed a groan at the assignment, knowing well enough that you’d be putting it off as long as possible. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful to be here, it was just rambling on about the properties of toad warts left over on humans after unfortunate experiments didn’t really get you going, at least, not like they did Professor McGonagall. 
You had found a kind of special liking for her after you had put yourself through the very exciting—albeit brutally difficult—process of becoming an Animagus. It had been your absolute dream since accidentally discovering that your mother was also one. You had been wandering around the garden during the summer between first and second year and had come across an absolutely beautiful doe. You had stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the creature’s beauty. Just as you were going to hold your hand out to the creature and offer it some of the grass blades clutched in your fingers, the creature before you changed entirely. Its long, graceful body curled into a small flash of light and then, without so much as a breath, your mother was back. Standing in the place of the deer. You could hardly believe your eyes.
Your mother was an Animagus and you thought you should be as well. She had warned you of the difficulties and hardships of the process and how annoying it was to have to get registered with the Ministry of Magic but you didn’t care. The wonder that had been in your eyes when you’d seen your mother transform surpassed all the cons of becoming one. You were going to be just like her. And now you were. Well…sort of. You were an Animagus but, much to your disappointment, you did not transform into a beautiful doe. You were a cat. Not a sleek black cat or a graceful Sphinx. No. You were a large, overgrown, long-haired European Maine Coon. At least, that’s what you were pretty sure you were. You hadn’t exactly performed a DNA test on your Animagi identity. You wondered if that would even work. 
The crowd of students urged you towards the door and out into the grand hallway just outside the Transfiguration classroom. The light poured through the gorgeously carved stained glass windows along the stone walls and illuminated everything in its wake. You absolutely adored the castle and its beauty and reckoned you didn’t stop and admire it as often as you should. 
A body bumped into you roughly, nearly making you lose the books clutched in your arms. You gasped at the sudden shock that went through your body when you realized you’d nearly missed a step down the staircase, your heart dropping through your ribcage.
“Hey,” you shouted. “Want to watch where you’re bloody going?”
The culprit turned with an annoyingly charming smile printed on his lips. His darkened eyes found yours amusedly and sent you a single wink. Your blood boiled.
“Sorry, darling, I’m in quite a rush,” he smirked.
“Doesn’t mean you can break through crowds like a giant,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. “Maybe you should take a second to think about the other people in this school and not just yourself for once, Nott.”
“Bite me, love.” 
Asshole. You watched the back of his head disappear amongst the rest of the students as they waded around you as if you were an island in the midst of an ocean. You could not stand that boy. He and his stupid friends had been nothing if not the most obnoxious people you’d ever met. Even from your first day, he was rude, loud, and annoying. No matter how handsome he was, he couldn’t just steamroll over people. And yet, because he wasn’t ugly in the slightest, everyone just let him do whatever he wanted. Him and all his friends. It made you so angry. 
Your eyes found your watch. You probably—erm, definitely, needed to get started on the paper for McGonagall’s class. That’s what pointed your feet toward the direction of the library. The thoughts of the warm hearth and those plush green chairs that hovered around it were calming the worries for this assignment. The library was—in your opinion—one of the most comfortable areas in the entire castle. It oozed comfort and warmth, much like your dorm room. It just felt soothing. You had noticed the amount of time you were spending in there was increasing as the days got colder. The fireplace in the dorms and common room were just as warm, of course, but those areas tended to be more populated during the day. And if you were going to get this paper done, you likely shouldn’t be surrounded by friends. You could be quite talkative when it came down to it—especially when it came down to procrastinating an assignment. 
One of the large wooden doors to the library came into view slowly as you sauntered down the stairs just before the entrance. You could practically feel the warmth radiating from the vast room. Sweetened chills broke out over your arms and a small shudder passed down your spine. You clutched your books a bit tighter to your chest as you pushed past the threshold and felt the warmth on your skin. 
You smiled gently as you made your way toward your usual fireplace. The smile on your face seemed to grow exponentially as you realized nobody was even in the general vicinity of your favorite spot and…thank Merlin…the tea cart had been brought around. The silvered, intricately designed cart that the librarian left out for wandering and cramming students sat right beside the fireplace. On it sat a few tea cups, a large, enchanted teapot that filled itself back up as soon as it was emptied, two sugar bowls, a large cream pitcher, and a few crumpets and cream horns. You might have died and gone right to the afterlife. 
You set your bags and books in your favorite armchair—the one on the left—and made your way over to the wonderful cart. You shivered in delight as you prepared yourself some tea, just the way you liked it, and grabbed a cream horn—or two. Wandlessly, you conjured the wool blanket that sat upon the foot of your bed and snuggled in amongst the cushions. This was absolutely delightful. Between the tea, the snacks, the warmth, and the dim lighting, your homework was the last thing on your tranquil mind. Your books and bag remained untouched. 
Once finished with your snack and beverage, you found yourself closely watching the curls of flames dance in the fireplace. Soon enough, absolutely without your consent, you were gently lulled to a deep sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut and your breathing stilled, your hands were curled against your chest and your knees were brought up against you. 
-
Theo rounded the corner of the main stairway just before the library. He had an enormous amount of work to do and figured he wouldn’t get anything done if he stayed with his mates. He watched his feet as they jogged down the stone steps, his bag jostling on his shoulder every few moments. 
Once past the doorway, his eyes found that set of green armchairs in the corner just in front of the fireplace. There appeared to be no one in them and he smiled a bit. Hopefully he’d be able to complete all of his work without any interruptions. 
He set his bag down beside the armchair on the right. He reckoned he should start on the paper for McGonagall’s class since it was likely going to be the most difficult way. He should probably just get it out of the way, then everything else would be a breeze. 
As he began to rummage through his bag for the appropriate materials to get started, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. A white wool blanket lay spread across the other armchair and an empty tea cup, plate, and school bag were discarded beside it. He figured someone had been working there only moments ago and had slipped away for a quick bathroom break or something of the like. A groan began to build up in his throat as he realized he likely wasn’t going to be alone after all. Whatever…as long as they were quiet. 
Finally, his fingers brushed his quill set and the Transfiguration book. He pulled everything out and settled himself in the chair, preparing to get to work. A thought popped into his head as he spread everything out comfortably. He wondered who had been sitting there. If it was someone he didn’t know, he’d likely have no issue ignoring them. He kind of hoped it was none of his friends, though he could have sworn he’d seen that bag before. Maybe it was Enzo’s?
An hour or so of straight working went by before Theo came to a pause and set his things aside. He stood from the chair and pulled his body into a sweeping stretch that popped a few joints along the way. He groaned at the pleasurable release, grateful that he wasn’t so stiff anymore. His hands shoved in his trouser pockets and he began shuffling in place to try and work some feelings back into his legs. 
The person who had been there previously, he realized, had never come back. Being as curious as he was, he glanced around the library, spotting only a few fully concentrated students with their heads down. Whose stuff was this? He nonchalantly wandered over to the items and squatted down next to the bag. He picked it up gently and rolled the fabric around in his hands. He wasn’t trying to be too nosy, just wanted to see if there were any embroidered initials or names. Quickly, he flipped the top flap open only to discover a messily scrawled name imprinted over the white tag near the top of the bag. It was, much to his dismay, your name. That obnoxiously uptight girl in his Transfiguration class. Every day, in and out, rubbing everyone’s nose in the fact that you were bloody awesome at McGonagall’s class and everyone else was just shit. He wondered if you were cheating or doing some favors for other students. No way you were that good at that boring class. 
A slight movement out of the corner of his eye shocked him away from the bag. His hands frantically dropped the material and he backed away quickly, not wanting to be caught snooping. Yet, he saw nothing. He glanced around wildly trying to find the culprit of the movement but not seeing anything. He could’ve sworn he—
Another movement. From the center of the white blanket. A cat. A rather large one, at that. Yawning slightly and stretching its little limbs out. His heart nearly melted. 
“Aw,” he smiled, “hello there, love. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
He slowly slid his hand over the edge of the chair’s cushion and rubbed the back of his first two fingers over your head. Unbeknownst to him and your sleepy state, both were blissfully unaware of who was touching whom. You yawned once more and curled into his touch. He laughed softly at the movement and began petting your head with a full hand. A deep rumbling purr radiated from your chest at his movements. 
You weren’t sure what about this dream was so real, but bloody hell was it comforting. An unknown character in your dream was ever so gently sliding a hand over your head and occasionally scratching under your chin. Maybe it felt odd for them to do that, but it was so relaxing you didn’t care.
He stood back up and gently scooped your curled figure up, keeping the blanket wrapped softly around you. He took a seat in your armchair and placed you on his lap. His fingernails ever so slightly scratched over your head and smoothed the hair along your back. Your thick, bushy tail curled lovingly against his chest ever so often. 
Something that you didn’t know and something that Theo didn’t know, either, was that you had the subconscious tendency to transform into your Animagi identity when sleeping. Whether as part of a dream or mumbling in your sleep, every once and a while, you would slip down to your smaller self and remain curled up as such. It had been going on for a couple of months now and you had yet to notice it. Your roommates most definitely had but they had said nothing as they assumed it was a purposeful action. They figured it would be nice to sleep as a cat as well. 
The purring emanating from your soft chest rolled against his leg as he continued to brush his fingers through your fur. Your head occasionally curled further into his stomach at these gentle actions. This might have been the most relaxing dream you’d ever had. 
“Hey, man, been looking everywhere for—”
“Shush!” Theo berated the loud voice. Mattheo came around the back of the armchair with a look of confusion plastered on his face. He glanced down to see the feline stretched across his lap, an eyebrow raised.
“The baby is sleeping,” Theo whispered, smiling gently. His hands never stopped brushing you. 
“Did you find him—?”
“Oh my god, shhhhh!” Theo repeated. Pansy and Enzo followed the same path that Mattheo had. And just like him, their eyebrows cocked awkwardly. All three of them glanced at the other.
“I told all of you I was going to the library to get some homework done,” Theo whispered.
“Yeah, it sure looks like you’re getting a ton done,” Pansy rolled her eyes.
“I was...,” Theo insisted, “before this baby wandered up. Isn’t she just the cutest?”
“Yeah, adorable,” Mattheo mocked, a smile building its way onto his face. “I’d love to have McGonagall Jr. sat on my lap, if you know what I mean.”
Enzo and Pansy’s faces blended from blank to confusion to realization to stifled laughter. Theo was extremely confused and becoming a little irritated. 
“Ew, what is that supposed to mean? I don’t think all cats are related to Professor McGonagall—wait, she’s not even really a cat, she can turn into one. I don’t think she’s really related to any cats,” Theo argued.
“Yeah, man—not what I meant,” Mattheo laughed. His two companions began to laugh with him. “Whose bag and stuff is that?”
Theo glanced down at the bag and snack plate that had been left behind as he refrained from rolling his eyes. He probably shouldn’t admit he knew who the stuff belonged to as he totally figured it out by snooping, but they didn’t necessarily have to know that.
“That’s that really irritating girl that’s in McGonagall’s with us, you know? The one I ran into this morning and was like ‘Why don’t you watch where you’re going, blah, blah,’ do you remember?” Theo spoke.
“Yeah, I remember,” Enzo giggled. “It’s almost like she's still in the room with us.”
“I know, that’s her stuff,” he nodded in the direction of the things left behind. “I was wondering when she was going to come back and get it but it’s been like an hour and she hasn’t come back.” Theo shrugged and returned his focus back to you who still remained curled comfortably in his lap. His thumb brushed over your closed eyes and ears. 
“Did she ever leave?” Pansy laughed. “Maybe she's still here.”
“Maybe so, I didn’t go looking for her, though,” Theo responded, brushing a finger down the slope of your nose.
“Yeah, she was acting kind of catty earlier,” Enzo spoke. The three students burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs and flicking tears from their eyes. Anger rose up the side of Theo’s neck.
“What is your deal? Is something funny? Anybody want to fill me in on the joke?” he asked. They remained laughing as hard as they could, almost as if they wanted to annoy Theo further.
“Whatever, me and my new friend are going to study elsewhere. At least she doesn't laugh at me,” he harrumphed and grabbed his things, keeping you cradled tightly in your blanket in his right arm. The three students didn’t stop laughing the whole way as Theo stomped off, taking you with him, and touching his nose to yours with a smile. 
“Oh, Merlin,” Pansy chuckled, a tear falling from her eyes. “So we all knew that she's an Animagus, right?”
“Yeah, she told me last year when her acceptance letter from the Ministry came in. She was pretty excited about it.” Enzo struggled not to start laughing again. “She's really nice and really smart, I think Theo can be a bit much sometimes.”
“Yeah, I agree with that….” Pansy responded. There was a few moments of silence before Mattheo tilted his head towards the other two.
“So, we’re sticking around for when she wakes up and realizes she's sitting on Theo’s lap wrapped up in a blanket like a child, right?” he laughed. The other two chorused a variety of ‘yes’ and ‘absolutely,’ as they made themselves comfortable at a table near the one Theo had assigned as his. This was quite possibly going to be the best thing that ever happened.
Part Two!
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months
Note
Hiiiii, Congratulations on your 5K !!! Idk if ur reqs r still open, but I'll try (pls feel free to delete this if it's closed alrdy)
I was supposed to ask for a Cap. Price but since u've said that there are low reqs for Soap, I'm (humbly and kindly) asking for a Soap oneshot. U can do whatever u want (I just want fluff pls, I'm so inlove with him, he's such a cutie)
—Alive and Breathing
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're sick. Very sick. John takes drastic action.] ❞
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Your head pounds violently, groaning softly under your breath as the room pulses with heat and fever. Sweat stains your forehead—dripping off the side of your nose as the bed is heavy with it. The window was shut tight, the sheets layered high on you in a heap akin to a garbage pile with shaking feet twitching from out the end. Your muscles jerk, lungs heaving for air that gets harder to come by. 
No matter how hot you tried to become, nothing was making you any more comfortable. You felt like you were freezing; standing out on an ice sheet and plunging into arctic waters. Everything was a sheen of blurry delirium, and you hoped that John would get home soon so you could have him help out around the house. 
You’d taken some cold medicine after you called him, but nothing was working. 
Not moving beyond the ragged coughs that make you gag on your saliva, you stay there even when the front door opens—a call of your name on the air a dull buzz in your drums. Like a fly. 
And then, suddenly, there’s a serious face in front of yours, and a hand is shoving back your blankets until you’re partially visible. 
“Up you get, now,” John grunts, eyes narrowed and his scar pulling tight at the sight of your state. Your mouth twists into a tight frown, panting at the chill of the air; you shiver violently. “I’m takin’ you in, aye?”
“M’cold, John,” you mutter through a hoarse exhilation. Shapes shift and shadows move. A heavy hand is pressed to your forehead, flinching momentarily at the heat that makes John hiss lowly. He looks your body up and down, taking in the scent of sweat and sickness. 
This was worse than the light fever you’d described over the phone. 
“Holy hell…” He breathes, glancing at the rapid pulse point in your neck. “Cold? You’re fuckin’ burnin’ up down there, Dearie. Did you take anything while I was away? Christ.”
A mind is made up quickly, concern striking John in the heart. 
He digs you out of the last remaining covers, gripping your slick body as your eyes flutter—you don’t answer him, muttering under your breath. 
“Fuck,” John growls. Once he knows you’re not going to slip out of his arms, he grips you tighter and rushes into the bathroom, nerves in his gut not leaving as your limp arm sways. “Hey!” He shouts at you, jostling your shoulder blades.
You whine, your head stuck at his pec. Everything pulses. 
Glaring, John’s blue eyes are laced with worry as he sets you down into the tub—scarred hand snapping to turn on the water on the coldest setting. 
Hands grapple your cheeks. 
“Hey, now,” the man utters, accent thick and deep as emotions take over. “Hey, focus on me. C’mon.” Water spreads over your legs—soaking into your clothes as your shivering continues even now. Your lashes flutter, teeth chattering. “C’mon, Sweetheart, right here.”
The water sloshes over the lip of the tub by the time John turns it off, the liquid cold enough to make the man shiver himself, but he doesn’t even notice—eyes trapped on your body. 
After a few long, tense, minutes, your rapid heartbeat slows to the visible eye. Your lungs ease back to a nearly-normal rise and fall; small hitches still in the muscle. 
“That’s a girl,” John runs his thumbs up and down your flesh. “That’s right.”
You huff, face still full of drying sweat until the man ahead of you takes a palm full of water and drenches your head with it. Sputtering, you weakly push at his other wrist near your cheek, gasping down air. 
“W-what the hell,” you stutter, water dripping off your nose and over your eyes.
“I’m getting you medicine,” John grumbles. “The correct kind. Cold bath won’t help in the long run, but I was out of options.”
You blink at him, still sluggish. 
“I’ll be fine, John.” A firm brow raises in challenge and you sigh shaking your head.
“It’s that or I bring you to hospital. Your choice.” 
Silence falls, only broken by the shift of the water and your small sickly sniffles. Blue eyes move and soften before John brings a hand up to his face and rubs it. He holds the limb there for a moment, taking a shallow breath. 
A kiss is pressed to your still steamy forehead, the lips staying there as you sag forward into John as his arms circle you, bringing you to him. 
“Scared me,” he utters lowly. 
You hum, tired. 
“I had the strangest dream while you were gone,” your mouth whispers. John grunts into your skin. “You were fighting a bear.”
“A bear?” He smirks, eyebrow quirking and pulling his scar tight. “Bit big for me to do alone, Dearie…I win?”
“Of course,” you try a hoarse chuckle, arms limp in the water. 
“Oh, aye, an accurate dream.” He chuckles with you. “How’d I do it, then? Was I barehanded? Knife?”
“...I’m just stroking your ego, John.”
“Can’t stroke something you can’t reach, can you?”
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pseudowho · 2 months
Note
As usual, I have no one to talk about this but... Have you seen those "mom instincts are cool, but let's talk about dad reflexes for a sec" vids???
Kento with dad reflexes? (Pretty sure he already has it when he's single or even in canon when Yuji is accompanying him in missions lmao)
I'm just in my bed giggling, kicking my feet because I can imagine him having those like when his baby girl would trip and he moves so FAST to catch her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 man idk where I'm going with this it's just making me go skkdkddkdjd
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The footsteps were slow, slick, echoing-- considered. At this stage, Kento didn't know if he and Yuuji were being hunted, or if they were the hunters. He suspected both.
The mansion fell apart around them, broken pipes lazily spewing sewage and muck. Kento felt the softly yielding floorboards beneath his feet, aware that if he wasn't careful, the second floor would very quickly become the first floor and--
"Oi, Nanamin!" Bounding, youthful footsteps hopped up beside Kento, who felt and heard the repercussions up the walls, the crack in the floorboards, the imminent collapse--
With the barest flash of movement, the floor beneath Yuuji's feet was missing, and Yuuji hung by his collar in Kento's iron grip, slowly rotating in the air as floorboards rumbled away with distant clatters. Otherwise, silence. A mildly dismayed hum from Kento, as he twizzled his blade in his other hand.
"Wow, Nanamin! Good refle--"
"Please make sure I do not have to use them, Itadori-kun."
"Ah...yeah."
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Curse-killing on a moving Subway train in the middle of the night wasn't the sort of overtime Kento needed...but when he heard the mission had been given to you, and you alone, he felt a sickening twist of anxiety in his gut. Not that you knew how he felt.
Kento bridled with incandescent rage, seeing you tumble down the rattling carriage, pinballing between poles and seats. Your fatal blow to this filthy Curse was not fatal quickly enough.
"Come on! It's dead, time to--" Kento's call was cut short, sensing imminent disaster as you kicked the door through on the opposite end of the carriage, and the Curse staggered into the walls, making the carriage list sideways, making you list sideways at the open door in your bullet-shot speed through this gloomy tunnel--
All at once, you felt yourself falling from the moving train, rolling and tumbling but wrapped up in something so warm that smelled so good.
You rolled to a stop, still full-body bear-hugged by Kento. You lay under him for a moment, face to chest through the torn off buttons of his shirt. He unfolded you with a soft sigh, hands and knees planted either side of your head and hips.
"Wow, Kento. Good refle--"
"Dinner, I--...we should go out for dinner."
"Oh. Like...now?"
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"Daddy, watch this--"
One little blonde girl, suspended and giggling upside down, caught. Kento, sighing, holding her by her ankle by the tree she was almost certainly too small to climb.
-----------------------------
"Jump, jump, jump, jump, ju--"
A full-suited barrel-roll across the living room, a near-miss with a tiny head and a coffee table corner. The boy peered sheepishly up at his daddy, whose narrow brown eyes glowered down in silent disapproval.
"Daddy, I was jumpi--"
"Hush. Be more careful."
-----------------------------
"I'll race you--"
"No, I'm winning I'M WINNING I'M---"
A flash of movement. One little boy and one little girl, hunched over and suspended by the backs of their jeans, spinning and surprised.
Kento grunted once, loaded down with shopping bags, hooking the boot of the car up with one foot, his keys between his teeth. He spat his keys onto the seat.
A truck barrelled past, its driver certainly not looking for little people. Kento grunted again, dropping children and shopping bags.
"Do not-- I repeat, do not run in the car park."
"...sorry daddy."
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You reached out towards Kento, seeing something glimmer in the honey-blond of his hair. His hand snapped up, grasping yours reflexively round the wrist. He let go immediately, apologetic.
"Sorry, I--...rough day with the kids." You smiled, stroking his cheek, and he leaned into your soft palm, planting a kiss there. Your gaze wandered to his hair again. Kento raised an eyebrow at you.
"What?"
"You've, uhm...got a grey hair."
Silence. A moderately dismayed hum.
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I agree. Nanami Kento has dad reflexes.
-- Haitch xxx
932 notes · View notes
planet-dusk · 4 days
Note
tw//cnc, coercion
jisungie and coercion in a cnc roleplay scenario has been plaguing my mind for a while... he's all "please, baby? it hurts... i know you want it, too, right? i'll be quick.. promise"
"just the tip, please, baby. i promise. i love you. need you so much. you love me, too, right?"
which he immediately disobeys and slides right in, "why're you so wet, baby? you really wanted this, didn't you?"
"let me cum inside, babe. it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."
if u have anything to add i might pass away but no pressure. ily ! i'm glad you're back:)
maesie it's so good to see you,, i hope you're doing well! and leaving such a treat in my inbox? yum <33
🏷️ han jisung x fem!reader. cw ; cnc, free use, breeding, pet names: baby, babe, doll ( 692 w. )
minors dni. for mature audiences only !
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jisung gets so desperate when he's needy, and he's just a tad too big for you to not feel the sting without any prep of his fingers; the thought alone makes you wet at the most inconvenient times. so you and jisung came to an agreement: you get to use each other, wherever, whenever. but that doesn't mean it isn't fun to push back a little. feed into his recklessness.
"not now, babe," you manoeuvrer between the spice rack and the stove with jisung clinging to your back. "i'm trying to make dinner here."
"but i need you, baby. i love you. you love me too, right? i need you so bad. please, it hurts," he pleads, bulge pressing thick and heavy against your ass. "just lemme grind against you for a second then, yeah? i'll be quick."
he lifts your skirt and grabs your hips, hungry, fingers making indents in the flesh. his leaking cock slides between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed clit with every rock of his hips.
"that's my girl, so good for me, fuck— i can feel you throbbing trough your panties, baby." he kisses your shoulder, his grip on your hips becoming more insistent. "let me put it in, please? i need to feel your pretty cunt around me. just the tip, okay?"
"sung, the food —"
"dinner can wait," he slides your panties down to your knees and you instinctively push your hips back. the gentle but demanding press of his hand between your shoulder blades lowers you over the kitchen counter. his cock prods at your hole, clumsily in his need, catching on the rim a few times.
the knot in your stomach tightens at the prospect of him entering you raw. it isn't the first time but you know how much the pretense of it riles him up.
"n-no sungie, wait, not without a condom..."
"it's just the tip, baby. i'll pull out, i promise. god, this tiny pussy," jisung groans when your walls give way slowly for the thick head of his cock. you whimper at the burn, caught between the counter and his hips with nowhere to go but take it.
"i know, doll, i know." he soothes you with a kiss to your nape. you gasp when he sinks in deeper, the sting bleeding into a dull throb when he hits that sweet spot nestled between your walls. "'m sorry, shit — this pussy's sucking me right in, baby, i can't help it. want me that bad, huh? you're such a liar."
"'m not," you shake your head, cunt clenching around him at the same time.
"i can feel how wet you are, baby, i know you need this too." his hips slam into yours and he wraps an arm around your chest to lift you up, his long curls tickling your ear. "let me cum inside, babe, it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."
his other hand's on your clit now, and you won't last long this way. you're too far gone to give him a proper answer so you shake your head again, stammering a chorus of pleas and moans as your orgasm quickly approaches.
"then why're you creaming on my cock, baby? this tight fucking pussy's begging to be bred," jisung groans, "knows who she belongs to. do you, baby? c'mon, tell me."
he forces his cock as deep as he can and you shudder, holding onto the counter top for dear life as he fucks you towards the peak of oversensitivity.
"y-you," you start to ramble, "it's all yours, sungie-ah, please..."
jisung leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and shoulder, mumbling filthy words of praise into your skin. "best pussy in the whole freakin' world, gonna fill you up so good, baby, until it's dripping down your legs..."
he cums with a final gasp of your name, then holds you close for a moment. "thank you. i love you," he whispers into your hair, and you squeal in surprise when he spins you around and drops to his knees in front of you.
jisung laughs and presses a kiss to your mound. "dessert first."
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