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saintsofwarding · 1 year

Text

SAINTS OF WARDING; HUNGRY DEMONS

Chapter 12: Epilogue

"Rose."

She ignored the voice and kept on drawing. Dark pencil smudged the side of her hand, her skin glittery with graphite.

"Hey. Rose. You listening to me?"

"Nah," Rose said.

A hand slapped over her notebook, right over her doodles. Rose blinked, let out her breath, then looked up. The girl standing alongside her library table, one arm full of books, the other currently taking part in obscuring her drawings, smiled down at her. Short and curvy, with hair that was pink on the ends and outgrown black at the roots, Sam dressed like she'd just rolled out of a Goodwill dumpster and put on whatever she'd yanked out with her.

"Hey, Sam," Rose said. Heat crept up her cheeks. Backing Sam were a couple of other kids from their grade, carrying instrument cases, slouched against the high school library shelves like they owned the place. They all must have just gotten out of band practice. As much as Rose wished she could partake- so you can look at Sam all day, you dumbass, she told herself- she wasn't exactly musically-inclined.

She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, trying to look like less of a huge nerd. "I...uh...I didn't realize that was you..."

"In the flesh, space cadet. Whatcha drawing?" Sam lifted up her hand and peered down at Rose's notebook, the intricate drawings covering both pages. Black vines and creatures with bared fangs, pairs of hands missing fingers, massive bat-winged beasts. Rose's face felt like it might burst into flames as Sam looked them over with thoughtful care.

"Oh, wow," she said. Her voice softened. "These are pretty cool. You should post this stuff online, people would love these-"

"I, uh, I take art classes," Rose said quickly, cutting Sam off. She shrugged to stop herself from fidgeting. "I'm, um, still working on technique, and stuff...I want to be ready, you know, before...before I show anything off, so I'm not, um...embarrassed, um, further down the line-"

She was rambling. Why was she rambling? "I will though. Post them online. When I have stuff. That I want to post online."

"Nice," Sam said, with a quirk of her eyebrow that made Rose's stomach flip over. "Hey, listen. Me and Necro and Matt were talking-"

She indicated her friends with a wave of her hand. "-And we were thinking we'd throw a party Friday night. Just like a casual kind of thing. You should come."

"Me?" Rose squeaked.

"Yes, you. You're cool with us, Rose. Bring your friends," Sam said. "If you have any." She winked.

Rose drew breath to answer, to say yes, yes, absolutely, I'll be there, when and where, you need anything, drinks or snacks or maybe a long, intense make-out session, when deep in the pit of her chest she felt it.

A jolt.

A ripple in reality.

Great.

She stood abruptly, making her chair squeak away from her table. Sam rocked back on her heels as Rose gathered up her books and notes and pencils, stuffing them into her messenger bag with a sweep of her arm.

"You okay?" Sam said.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm...I have to go," Rose said. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She slung her bag over her shoulder and began away, her heart pounding, her hand clenched.

"You didn't say if you were coming to the party or not!" Sam called.

Rose didn't answer.

She hurried through the darkened school library, the thick treads of her combat boots squeaking on the lino. She weaved past the stacks, shelves stuffed with books, big dirty glass windows allowing the dreary, rippling shadows of rain from outside. Late afternoon, and the light was already fading, winter drawing darkness over the city. As Rose walked, the jolt grew stronger, becoming a rhythmic pulse throughout her whole body; she felt it like a drill in the backs of her teeth, sickening and awful.

She picked up speed until she was sprinting through the library. She raced down a set of service steps lit by a humming fluorescent bulb, to the building's side door. Rose burst through and into the alley behind the library, a corridor of concrete and asphalt half-drowned under the heavy rainfall. Ahead loomed an overturned dumpster, green paint chewed by rust.

In it, half-buried in garbage, was a massive form. Black, glistening skin was stretched and split over muscle packed on top of muscle, like bowling balls stuffed inside a pair of tights. It snarled and scraped inside the dumpster, hunched shoulders rising from the trash, huge bone-spurs stabbing at the air as it attacked the garbage.

Hunting for food, probably.

"Hey!" Rose called through the rain.

With a snarl, the thing swiveled, whip-crack-fast. Multiple pairs of eyes glowed from multiple eye sockets, its head a canine skull twisted and re-formed into an exciting new shape, like a heavy metal album cover artist's darkest and most perverted fantasies. Maybe the thing had once been a dog, some stray exposed to the wrong stuff. Maybe not. Either way, it wouldn't stop at mauling the garbage. If Rose didn't put it in the dirt, someone would be dead by morning.

"Did you sniff me out?" Rose said. She unhooked her bag from her shoulder and dropped it to the steps. "Or is today just your lucky day?"

The mutant's snarl deepened. Gums slid back from a tangle of sharp teeth, black mutagen dripping to the pavement. It shoved away from the overturned dumpster and dropped to the asphalt; the impact shook the ground.

Rose braced back, her teeth clenched, her hands in fists at her sides. This could get messy; good thing tomorrow was laundromat day.

"Hey, Rose, you sure you're okay? There's this, like, goth hobo outside the library, says he's here to pick you up-"

Pink flashed through the rain. Rose went stiff as she registered Sam at the mouth of the alleyway, her mouth hanging open, her eyes huge.

She took in the monster.

She took in Rose, facing it down.

She made a high-pitched sound that might have been an abortive shriek.

"Sam!" Rose screamed. "Get out of here!"

She was too late. The mutant whirled with a bellow and flung itself at Sam; the other girl dropped to the ground, arms raised up as if that might stop it.

Rose flung her arms forward.

Gouts of black mold erupted from the pavement, from the walls; black veins pushed at her exposed hands, pulsing in time with her furious heartbeat. The mold twisted into tentacles, vines of pure, glistening mold. They shot toward the monster, winding around its neck, one of its foreclaws, jerking it to a halt seconds before it smashed Sam to the pavement.

Rose screamed again as the monster wrenched at its bonds; with a slick, fleshy crackle it ripped forward. Sam stumbled back, out of range. The monster's foreclaw came away from the side of its body, nothing but a bloody, gaping wound left; as Rose watched, flesh rippled, knitting together, re-forming. In moments a new foreleg slammed to the pavement, the thing healing itself even as it tore itself apart.

"Fuck!" Sam yelled. She was pressed against the alley wall, the healed monster rounding on her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-"

With a yell, Rose sent another wave of mold at the monster. Too slow. The monster's head snapped forward, jaws wide, ready to close around Sam's skull-

Rose's heart seized, Sam's name trapped inside her throat- she was gonna see her die, right here, right now-

A hum filled the air.

Lightning snapped and arced, filling the alleyway with an eerie glow.

Silver sliced through the rain and impaled the monster to the pavement with the crack of metal in concrete. A stop sign, Rose registered. It pinned the beast straight through the ribcage, its bright red sign wobbling back and forth. It started to vibrate, the hum growing stronger, louder, until it became nearly unbearable, an agonizing high-pitched whine in Rose's skull.

As if anticipating its own impending doom, the monster raked and snapped at the sign trapping it. No deal. Rose knew it was as good as dead already.

As it hummed faster and faster, the metal of the sign glowed, first cherry-red, then orange, then white-hot-

"Cover your eyes, Sam," she shouted, and hoped to God the other girl was listening.

She squeezed her own eyes shut an instant before the sign exploded, blowing apart the monster from the inside out. Glutinous liquid sprayed Rose; she heard Sam's yell of disgust as she got hit by the deluge. Shrapnel pinged against the alley walls, neatly avoiding her, and, she assumed, Sam.

He was good like that.

Silence fell, broken by the sound of rain, the gurgle of the monster's dying growls. Rose opened her eyes. Everything- the alley, the pavement, Sam, her- was covered in a layer of thick, slimy black muck. A steaming lump of flesh and blackened bones was all that remained of the monster, a crater blasted into the pavement around its corpse. As Rose watched, the remains disintegrated into a pulpy pool. No regenerating from that.

Embers glowed past the steam from the monster's corpse, illuminating the hat-clad silhouette standing in the alley mouth. Long coat, beefy shoulders, scuffed-up engineer boots. The cigar's glow flashed off a pair of round glasses and lit up an impressive mouthful of teeth.

"Oh, my god," Rose said. "Timing."

"Let me guess," Heisenberg called. "You had it handled?"

"Just about." Rose flicked her hand, flinging off a few droplets of mutagen and pulverized monster. She made a face, then blinked. "Oh- oh, no-"

Sam was huddled, weeping, her hands pressed over her eyes. "No, no, no," she whispered, over and over. "No, no, I did not just see that, no, no-" Rose hurried over and knelt at her side. "Hey. Sam. Sam, are you okay?"

"What was that? What the fuck was that?"

"Uh-" Rose glanced up at Heisenberg. He gave her a shrug. "You remember that research project we had to do about the history of Raccoon City, right?"

"The town the government nuked?"

"Yeah."

"Okay?!"

"This sort of thing was kind of why they nuked it."

Sam's hands slid from over her eyes, exposing a faceful of running mascara. "The black stuff," she whispered. "It came out of you-"

"...Yeah."

Sam shoved her away, then scrambled to her feet. She seemed to notice the coating of slime she'd acquired and gasped in a breath, like she was about to scream. She didn't. She stared at Rose for a good five seconds, then whirled on her heel and sprinted out of the alley, past Heisenberg, who stepped theatrically out of her way.

Rose watched her go. She shivered. Her abandoned bag lay in a puddle of rainwater, soaked through.

"Dammit," she muttered.

She retrieved the bag, but the damage was already done. All her books, her notes, her drawings, everything, was drenched. Ruined.

Rose sniffed.

"She asked me to a party," she said, hooking her bag over her shoulder and approaching Heisenberg.

"Yeah? You gonna go?"

"I kind of think my invitation just got rescinded."

"So? Find out where she lives. Track the place down. Crash the shindig. Violence. Mayhem." He grinned down at her as they left the alleyway. "Maybe some screaming."

"You are so weird," Rose muttered.

"I just saved your life, kid. Be grateful I didn't let your girlfriend's head get chomped off."

Rose's face flash-cooked. "She's...she's, um, she's not my girlfriend-"

"Sure, sure. No reason at all you blab about her for hours and hours every single day, talking my ear off, oh, Samantha, you're way too cool for me-"

"I don't- I don't talk about her for hours! That's slander! You're slandering me. Besides." Rose scuffed her boot against the sidewalk. "I kind of blew it just now."

"So fix it, kid."

Rose began to voice a retort. She stopped. She sighed, pausing under the orange glow of a streetlamp. She dug in her wet messenger bag and brought out her ruined notebook, still open to the page of drawings.

Sam had said they were really cool.

She'd said Rose was really cool.

She glanced up at Heisenberg. He watched her with his customary slight smirk, unreadable as ever under the brim of his hat.

"Maybe if I talk to her tomorrow," she allowed. "A really grown-up type conversation."

"That's the way. And if your girlfriend's a little bitch about it, remember what I said. Violence, mayhem, screaming."

Rose rolled her eyes as far as they could physically go. "Still not my girlfriend."

Heisenberg drew at his cigar and let the smoke twine through the rainy evening. He ambled from the pool of orange streetlight, continuing down the sidewalk. "Still saved your life. That earns me twenty-four hours without your fuckin' lip."

"You like it when I roast you." Rose aimed a kick at his leg as she jogged after him.

He stepped smoothly out of the way. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll bite. You're not so bad to have around. Almost makes you worth the trouble."

Rose smiled a little. "You'll never get sick of saving me, will you?"

"Long as you have my back, too." Heisenberg flung his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into a one-armed hug. "You know what they say, kid. Us monsters have to stick together."

#saints of warding #re8 #re8 fanfiction #karl heisenberg #rosemary winters #karl heisenberg x oc #rosemary winters x oc #resident evil #resident evil village #chapter 12

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

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18, 19, and 40 please?🥺 maybe some smut if possible💕

19. “Take a breath honey, yes princess just like that.”

18. “Squeeze my hand if you could hear me baby.”

40. “I love you, pet. So much of it, come back, please??”

A/N: Girliessss, theysss and themsss. Sorry for being inactive :(( Missed you all so much!! Here's a blurb from mafia!h x soft subby.

Y/N had never been this bratty. She had her occasional time-outs where Harry refused to touch her for days till she broke through her ice and begged him with a drool-y sweet mouth and honeyed puppy eyes.

She knows the drill and loves the adrenaline that seeps to her toes when Harry glowers at her across the room with bolting dark intensity -- his hook of thumb in a demand to have her in his lap is enough to excite her, the punishments makes her insides shrill and makes her fall in love with her daddy more and the best part of all of it's that she wants to cherish again and again’s how adorably caring he’s once fucking her raw.

At the moment though. She isn’t being a brat on purpose. They came for a dinner (with one of the Harry's business people) and it’s all business talk, rich dicks everywhere, hush hush voices that Y/N despises and the piqued ogle of the wife on her that makes her squirmy in her seat.

She zones out into her own lil bubble for a second, imagining herself back in their cosy home comfy in Harry’s humungous overly worn hoodie, snuggling him and smooching him, pecking all those softish spots where he has runs his fingers through the night and she wants to have a delicious pizza all to herself because the food here’s the amount of worm and leaf of spinach on a worm.

She didn’t even realise that she was slipping into her subby state until she was getting all fussy about her surrounds and plucked her lipstick out smudging the crimson tip against a tissue and slides it atop Harry’s thigh from under the table,

Daddy, home?

His flicker of gaze alters from the little needy note towards his girl who’s being choosy in eating her veggies and rolling them around in boredom.

Her head perks up cutesly at the feeling of his attention on her and he suckles his wine layered lip upon the sight of her doe-blown out pupils and glossy eyes indicating him like a train's horn that she’s submerging into her submissiveness at dangerous rate when she goes all squeamish and pink cheeks at the mere touch of his knuckles against her elbow.

“Daddy, please.” She whispers into his ear impatiently squeezing his knee. About to write another note to him to stay persistent but her lipstick breaks and she flinches when it rolls under the lady’s shoe leaving a bright stain on floor.

“Behave.” Was all he muttered gruffly before throwing a nonchalant dismissive glance her way and that was the last straw for her.

It’s been hours!! All she wanted was to get home and cuddle! Is that too much too ask!?

That’s why she acted like a grump and didn’t even bid them goodbyes, waited at the lobby for him eagerly and couldn’t help but to sway with her hands clasped back and grin at the greedy thought that once he steps outside she will leap on him like an affection starved kitten.

Her wish remains a wish nevertheless when Harry passes by her with a stoic face and snaps his fingers at her, the single gesture’s enough to bead tension on her forehead.

“In the car. Right now.” He glares her sternly plucking his black leather glove to reveal his jewelled pretty hand as he reaches for the handle of the backseat door.

Y/N has decided that today she’s gonna hold her grounds and be as naughty as she possibly could to get her kisses of the day.

Sheepishly she slips inside and gives him a toothy smile whilst trying to scramble up towards to reach within the sweet distance for his lips.

The trinkets of her shiny dress makes a noise as Harry splays his calloused palm up her silken thigh, glides it all the way up her hip and keeps his grip on her to stop her from moving.

“What?” She pouts knocking her nose against his's in attempt to plant her lips atop his’s, all grabby hands for him, “You’re not havin’ any of me kisses.” He tuts, eyes dark and murky.

“But why!!?” She whines trying to cup his cheeks and just squish them awful good but he gives her a pointed look and doubles back, away from her.

“You know why, little one.” At that she gives him a nasty narrow squint of her peepers and mutters grouchily, “I hate you.”

“What did ye' just say?” He pushes her closer with one tug that elicits tiny gasp from her, his lip thin in annoyance, “I said I hate you!” She huffs crossing her arms and it makes her breast appear more plump.

In all reality, she’s too stubborn to tell him that she’s feeling terribly needy.

“Say tha’ again, I dare you.” Harry demands with tinge of surprise in his growl and she hisses in frustration adjusting the loose heavy shoulder of her dress, “I said, I hate you and this dress, ‘s so itchy. just w’na go home —-,” Her blabbing fades into a squeaky gasp upon the sharp sting of Harry’s hand against her bottom.

“What happened Sugar? Did cat caught ye’ tongue?” He grits wrapping his warm hand around her throat wanting to choke the battiness out of her, but rather it turns her into a melty puddle of a softie.

“Over my lap.” He says firmly.

“No.”

He doesn’t give her time and positions her himself horizontally on his thighs, elbows pressed into seat and raises her bum with the support of his knee, pinching her cheek teasingly to warn her.

He tries not to coo as she looks ethereal in the glittery dress that's now bunched in Harry’s fist atop her spine to expose her itty bittys and she mewls prettily when Harry spanks her asscheek watching it jiggle then does it again and again, on her last count she’s dripping down her thighs stickily.

“What a filthy little brat,” He groans adam apple bobbing from the vigour of heat spreading in his body as he inspects her wet holes with middle finger making her squirmy and whiny from his feathery touches, “Proper soaked just from gettin' spanked.” He traces the lace delicates of her panties and presses his thumb against her bundle of nerves to feel the throb from his touch.

He pulls her back up and squishes her cheeks to pucker her rosy lips, pecks it heartily, “Knows why you’re gettin’ punished baby?” His tone gentler now. Realising that she shouldn’t slip too deep before they reach home.

She snuggles into the crook of his neck and hums, guiding his hand to her sore bum to make him rub the burn he left on her ass.

“Uhmm. ‘cos didn’t behave nice, acted bad ...” Her voice slurry from desire and yearn. If it wouldn’t be for his grasp on her waist she’d have gotten off on his meaty thigh long gone, “And?” He arches his brow sceptically drawing soothing circles on her flesh.

“And that I said, I hate daddy ‘n the dress he gifted me ....” His heart thumps a bit from the statement but the rational part in him assures him that she was just bumbled about him being too distant from her.

“And what do bad girls get?”

“Punished.” She mumbles into his throat and he nods, kisses her hair and cups the nape of her neck to give it a tender squeeze.

How much she acts like a spoiled brat sometimes; he still always makes sure she’s in her comfort zone and knows why she’s getting treated that way.

“I love you, baby sweets. But .... it doesn’t mean you’d not get your punishment.” She was about to protest and throw a tantrum but the car comes to an halt right infront of the large dark doors of mansion.

Tranquil air fills with her giggly shrieks when Harry gets outside and throws her over his shoulder with an ease, his grin wicked as she squeals out “No's" grabbing onto one of the door-frames in the hallway but it’s all vain since he’s way stronger than her little grip.

Once in their room, he’s flipping her into heaps of pillows and catches her calf when she tries to crawl away in hurry.

Her eyes widen and she looks down with a pout upon hearing the rip of her dress, “Liked it.” She mummers sadly.

“Thought it was too itchy,” Harry shrugs pushing her up towards the bedhead and ducks down to speck soft kisses against her collarbones, mouth foaming at the sight of her tits spilling out of her lingerie.

“No! Was just —.. fuck ...” She keens out a moan bucking her core to grind against his thigh when he nooks his knuckle between her sloppy pussy lips and twists her panties pushing them up scruffily into her mound feeling the flutter of her clitoris, the sheer fabric of it giving the right amount of friction to get her to an orgasm.

Her wet gasps and moans fogs into Harry’s mouth as he kisses her with unyielding roughness, hot bubbles popping in her belly ready to spread the nice feeling inside her, holding her down when he knows what he’s gonna do next will turn her into batshit crazy.

He pulls back. Both. His hand and his mouth away from her.

She blinks, with a lazy smile first then the realization dawns upon her and she’s grappling for his sides but he takes her wrists and pins them down.

“Daddy no!” She growls a whine and he just sits on his heels and admires the mess he created out of her, flustered and sheened in sweat, all soft and pudging to litter her skin with marks and bites, his cock warming up in his pants, “Please daddy I want you.” The whites of her eyes enviable and glassy from the frustrated tears that are collecting at her waterline.

Though, Harry stays adamant because those innocent coy eyes are her best weapon and ties her wrists to the bedpost without saying a word to her.

“You brought this on y'self, baby.” He tugs the bound to make sure it’s not too tight and moves back to get rid of his pants, his prick bloated and throbbing from ridges, slaps against his lower belly it’s head coated with precum.

“Now you’re g'na watch me jerk myself off and cover ye' pretty tummy with my cum, might lick it off from you.” She shivers at his words. Toes curling as she silently pleads with a parted mouth and barely open eyelids.

His nostrils flares, howling groan slipping through his lips as he spits in his palm and wraps it around his fat girth slicking his fist up and all the way down to give some relief to his balls.

He dips down and sucks onto her lower lip, “Knows your safe word right?” He asks shoulders jolting when he slops the bulbous crown of his prick against her clit in slow circles.

“Yes, yellow.” She breathes out delicately hoping he slips into her soon but Harry has other plans as he squeezes himself more, swiping the dollops of white thickness from the crown of his prick and brings his thumb to stuff her mouth shut with that.

“What a greedy kitten.” He tuts in mock when she eagerly swirls her tongue around his thumb creating soft sucking noises, she gags around his digit, eyeballs rolling to her skull when Harry slides her damp panties away and strokes his cock against her drippy hole.

“Hmm. Feels good.” He husks pushing into her, but not stuffing her full and that makes her whimper. She glides her feet around his spine to push him into her and her squishy sloppy walls tries to swallow him whole.

Everything just feels too hot and overwhelming. Him fondling his shaft from where he isn’t soaked into her warmth and her tiny whines and whimpers as he teases and edges her.

“Daddy ‘m sorry!” She squeaks out breathlessly clamping down onto him, “I bet you’re.” He moans out, that one sweaty curl dangling and tickling her forehead.

“That’s the most prettiest sound I’ve heard.” At his praise she just turns into a puddle and wiggles for more.

“You’re g'na make me cum.” He kisses his teeth and she digs her feet into his back not knowing if she’s allowed to come too and not having a voice to ask for his permission.

She gulps. Eyelids fluttering. Her cheeks blushy and peachy, listening to his deep moans that whirls within the pit of his chest as he fills her pussy with warm ribbons of cum that sticks to her already soppy walls and then pulls out to empty himself on her tummy as he promised.

Moments later the room echoes with her treacly yearning whimpers and blubbers of Harry’s name as he licks her juices off and the his own cum that oozes out of her whenever he pushes his middle finger inside her cunt.

“No!” That’s why they’ve discussed it before hand, her safe word. Harry knows his baby girl and that she gives up too early, gets too overwhelmed before she could actually enjoy the good part all of it although she has a potential to be more bearing than that.

They’ve lost the count of her orgasms.

The overestimation thingy.

Harry thinks it could be the best punishment for her.

She cramps her thighs around his wrist to make him stop but he spreads them wider apart, “You could gimme another one princess, knows y’could.” He curls his fingers to caress that spongey button inside her that makes her writhe like a leaf and it definitely did.

“Shit.” Eventually she gives into him basking in the pleasure of it -- sinking down on his fingers and grinds her clit against his knuckles, her cum from her previous orgasms glistening on his skin.

“Fuck already squirting.” She didn’t realize that, too floaty in her subspace and the ecstasy until she feels his fingers rubbing inside her again.

“Daddy no, no, no ... too sensitive!” She cries out cramming her legs around his waist and pushes his chest away with her knees but Harry keeps pummelling them deeper, scissoring them and adding two more, her thighs shakes terribly a burn spreads in her limbs as the sensational craving envelopes her once again.

“Yes, yes, yes. Don’t stop, please!” She shouts out whimperishly making Harry smile and he smooches a kiss to her forehead, pressing his chest flushed to hers and cradles her jaw to make her look at him, “Cum fo’ me. You’re me good fuckin' girl – g'na come right?” She bobs her head quickly fresh tears gliding down her cheeks and Harry wipes them away immediately.

She’s flying high like a kite. Wanting him all. His hands. His touch. His cock. His cum anything she could get out of him.

His love. His attention. His constant assurances and praises, affection, tenderness and his kisses and loads ‘n loads of tiny kisses She’s always needy for that.

“’M your good girl!” She sobs out in high pitch grappling onto restraints and Harry feels this dire urge to protect his little one at all costs, “Yes you’re.” He coos brushing her hair away from her eyes and let her hide her face into his neck as she turns stiff like an arrow and creampies around his fingers, lips smushed against his cheek.

“Take a breath, honey. Yes princess just like that.” He massages her shoulder and pecks it to calm her down upon feeling her heartbeat go wild after she comes.

She shakes in his arms whilst Harry showers her in kisses lining himself against her entrance and sheathes into her in a slick, their moans melting as he buries himself deep till her belly and cum spurts out from her cunt with his each hard thrust and it drips down her bum and onto already splotched sheets.

White dots wafts past her eyelids, arms shaking and lip wobbling as she feels it hit like a train. Getting pooled into utter bliss of many orgasms, feeling a rupturing dose of euphoria cocooning her.

She feels like she’s on paradise and somebody’s calling her through the white noise but she’s unable to respond all she could do’s blabber nonsense while trying to stop squirming.

Then she gets familiar to that gentle voice, the cosiness of that hand holding onto her free ones now and the softness of those lips against her forehead.

“Squeeze my hand if you could hear me baby.” He gets anxious a little bit when she stays droopy and unresponsive like a sunflower at nights.

A huge grin adorns his after climax blissed out features when she obeys him and gives a lil squish to his palm, “There y’go baby sugar. Y'alright honey?” He kisses the tip of her nose when she just blinks up at him weepily.

“Daddy.” Her voice scratchy and awfully feeble from all of the screaming and moaning.

“No daddy. ‘S just Harry, I love you pet. So much of it come back to me, please?” He almost pleads corking his mind to think what would bring her back from her fragile state since she has never slipped past from him this deep ever.

She whines at the hollowness she feels in her tummy when he pulls out catefully from her with a squelching noise and hisses even when the sheets rustles against her folds, “So sensitive.” Harry murmurs trailing honeyed kisses into the softest flesh of her thighs.

“Yes daddy, but want you!” Harry’s brows shoots up into shock and he slips his forearm under her to hug her tight, “’M right her bubba.” She cuddles into him and yawns fumbling with his sides listening to his pacific breathing.

“Guess we gotta give this little one a sleepy bath.” He mutters into her hair, nails scratching soothingly up her neck and twirling her downsy baby curls.

“I love you.” She rasps out rubbing the sleepiness in her eyes with the back of her hand, “I love you too -- would you like if I lit up some candles in the bathroom? Y’favourite ones?” He thinks it might help her get out of her subby state.

“No. Just you.” She pouts battling the sleepiness away and clings to him when he walks them to bathroom and sits them into the cold tub, he wrapped her around him in a way she doesn’t come in contact with the coldness of it as they wait for it fill with bubbling water (Y/N was too sensitive and clingy that he knew if he’d away parted away she’d have cried endlessly.)

No words were exchanged as she almost slept on his chest and drooled all over him.

“Cutie.” Harry giggles softly pecking her parted snoring lips and cleans himself and her gently.

Gets his most worn out clothes, the one that could tell another person in a beat that she belongs to him from the smell alone.

She slings her thigh around his waist and smashes her face under his chin, canoodling into him with a little tired purr.

He was petting her head and running his hand over her back that when she mumbled into her sleep, rubbing her cheek up and down his chest, Harry stopped and ducked down to kiss her forehead feeling love bursting through his insides.

“I love you, Harry.” Was what she mumbled. He's just too much in love with his soft little button.

#mafia harry x florist reader #HARRY STYLES SMUTTTT #harry styles dirty one shotsssss #DOM HARRY SOFT SUBBY READER #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles #cute harry #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #dom harry

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elysiadjarin · 3 years

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Day 3: Dacryphilia

Jesse Cromeans may be a ruthless killer, but at home with you? You’re the one in charge. And especially those days when you’re annoyed at how long he’s been gone and he comes back so desperate for your attention… well. You did so like to see him cry.

Day 3 of Kinktober has arrived! I actually think I discovered some things about myself writing this one, so y’all enjoy. 😂 Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content only. This one is a slasher x reader fic, so please beware of mentions of murder and assault as part of the territory, though nothing is explicitly mentioned. PinV unprotected sex, dacryphilia, desperation, cumplay.

Tags: Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x reader, slasher x reader, yandere!reader, soft femdom, sub/dom themes

Paint Splatters over Canvas

It was rather funny, really.

You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the giant man standing in the doorway of the room staring at you. Jesse had always made a point of never touching you without your permission. A way for him to separate the meaningless victims of his murderous hobby with you, his wife, his everything. And while of course your relationship stayed perfectly strong, you well aware of his hobby and he well aware of your own tendencies… it did sometimes backfire on him in the best worst ways.

Like now. When you were annoyed with him because he’d been gone an entire day later than he’d promised, extra dark web cash be damned. A promise was a promise, and it wasn’t as though he’d needed the money. He did have a perfectly legal and highly successful business, after all. So shouldn’t you have come first?

You liked revenge cold, playing the long game; something you had in common with Jesse. And today, you certainly had plans put in place for said revenge. Which, for the time being, meant ignoring Jesse. You had plenty to occupy you, from communications for the business to just working on your own projects. Still, you’d made sure to be just nonchalant enough to let him know that it was all so… deliberate.

Jesse shuffled in the doorway, clearly wanting your attention but knowing better than to think any sort of demanding would get him anywhere. He’d learned the hard way that at home, his power over subordinates decidedly did not apply to you. When you didn’t give him any response, he hovered for a moment, clearly trying to decide on what to do next.

You knew how he would get after a mission. Needy. Wanting. Starved for attention and affection from you. Pent up for days, probably thinking about you every spare moment between takes.

With a hum, you typed out a message on your phone before standing and heading for the doorway. You briefly looked up to see him as you brushed past in the doorway. “Oh, hi, Jesse,” you said, giving him a brief, distracted smile. “I’m off to get ready for a meeting with a client.” You headed for the bedroom, already thinking about your next steps.

You could hear him following behind you, could almost feel the mounting despair as he started to realized what was happening. Why you had used his name instead of the usual love, darling. His shoulders hunched, and you could see his face twist as he clearly tried to think of what to do. He already knew that you’d have your revenge however you wanted: apologies would be expected but certainly wouldn’t get him any closer to mercy.

Walking into the bedroom, you headed straight for the bathroom to start preparing. Jesse still trailed along behind you like a forlorn, helpless puppy, and you swore you could almost hear him let out a small whine. Pausing for a moment in front of your vanity, you dialed your friend’s number and set it to speaker, putting it down on the countertop and sitting in front of the mirror.

You tied your hair up and reached for your cosmetics, beginning the process as the phone dialed. Your friend picked up quickly, already in on your plan thanks to your texting. She always approved of your payback plans.

Bestie! I thought you said you had to prepare for the meeting? I mean, yknow, not that I don’t like hearing from you. She cheerfully teased over the phone.

You smiled. “Well yeah, I just sat down to do my makeup. But I mean, we did say we were going to talk about the party for little Jacen this weekend, and what better time than now? You can help me pick out an outfit once I’m done,” you cajoled, noticing how Jesse sat on the edge of the jacuzzi bathtub, unabashedly staring at you. He always had loved watching you get ready for an event. Not that you minded.

Fair enough. Your best friend admitted readily. But seriously, you didn’t have to go all out for Jacen like this. She half scolded. It’s so much!

You laughed lightly, the creamy foundation smoothing across your skin. “Oh c’mon, he’s my adorable little nephew in all but name. He deserves to get spoiled by his doting Aunt, let me have my fun,” you wheedled, knowing she would cave.

She sighed over the receiver. I swear, girl, you could convince anyone into anything.

“Or maybe I’m just your weakness, Miss Mara,” you teased back. The soft brush in your fingers blended the contour onto your face, and you smiled as you glanced at the phone. “But anyway, did you manage to figure out what he might want for a birthday present? Or are we going with my original idea to let him loose in a mall?”

Oh, no, you are so not buying him everything he points at. I’d never get him to not be a spoiled brat if I let you.Mara snorted. I’ll text you what I figured out, he seems to be pretty fixated on it right now.

“Ugh, fineeee,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “But I’m going to at least get him that adorable motorized scooter I showed you before. He’s going to look so cute riding around in it.”

Fair enough I suppose. Better than the mall idea— wait, did you just get me to agree to something extravagant by threatening something so ridiculous—

“Anyway,” you interrupted blithely, “did you send out invitations to everyone?”

Yep, and I got back all the RSVPs. Speaking of which, I thought you said that you were meeting with the CEO of some business tonight? What’s that all about? I know you, you normally don’t like dealing with people.

You sighed. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag a little.” You pouted, reaching for the eyeshadow and liner. “Jesse was supposed to be back yesterday, but since he wasn’t I had to reschedule, and I promised to personally meet with the CEO in order to smooth over ruffled feathers. But besides that… I wanted to be there personally to see my best friend and her husband’s house finally paid off for their fifth anniversary.”

A pause. Then a screech that made you grin. You’re not serious! Babes, no, wait—

“No use protesting!” You said cheerfully, waving your brush. “It’s already been practically settled. Besides, you both need to start saving up for Jacen’s college funds. We did have the agreement that I’d open the doors to whatever college he wanted instead of just paying for it,” you reminded.

Ugh, I don’t know if I want to smack you or hug you, you sly little— Mara groaned. Wait till I tell Damien, he won’t know what hit him. She laughed. Thank you. You know how much it means to us. I won’t scold.

“Good.” You nodded. “And you know I’ll take care of you.”

She sighed. Never doubted it. So, how’s the process?

You hummed, pursing your lips as you finished the eyeshadow and grabbed the mascara. “About to do mascara, then all I have left is the lipstick. But shouldn’t I wait till we pick a dress before I actually pick a color?”

Probably. What’s the mood? You going for boss ass bitch, sultry Queen, or mysterious vampire lady? Amusement laced Mara’s voice.

“You’re not even in my house and yet you walked in and called me out to my face,” you said dryly, earning laughter. Jesse, you saw in the mirror, tilted his head with a small smile playing over his lips. He’d quietly observed the whole processes, eyes fixed on your face.

Only cause I love you. So, show me the closet, girl! Oh, show me your makeup first tho so we got reference.

You picked up the phone as you finished, turning on the camera so she could see your makeup sans the lipstick. She whistled, eyebrows wriggling teasingly as she grinned.

Oh, so mysterious vampire queen it is. She smirked. Closet. Though I do have the feeling that we’re going to be choosing a gorgeous red lipstick.

“Yes ma’am,” you answered, standing and heading for your closet. You heard Jesse stand and follow behind you, and stifled a smile. Flipping the camera, you started to flip through the racks of dresses. “Does that mean we’re leaning towards a black dress?”

Hmm, probably. Actually, how about one of your sleek black ones? The one with like, barely any frills and only a tiny bit of lace at the top. Off the shoulder. If you’re gonna try to assert dominance, probably drawing attention to your mouth and hands is the best way to go.

You tilted your head at the hangers, then nodded. “You’re right. Especially if I go for the red lipstick. I could also honestly use a glass of wine during that meeting,” you sighed.

Mara snickered. Blood in a wine glass? How stereotypical of you, madame.

“You hush, drama queen,” you said dryly, finding the dress she’d described and pulling it out.

Ooh, that’s the one! And I know you have that one crimson shade of lipstick that I always say looks vampiric.

You went back to the vanity and set the phone down, pretending to not notice that it showed Jesse standing in the doorway, clearly staring at you. You slid your shirt off, careful not to smudge any makeup, then slipped out of your pants and reached for the dress. Smoothing it over your front to get rid of any wrinkles, you sat back down and tilted the camera back to yourself, reaching for the lipstick.

“This one, right?” You waved it in front of your face.

Yep! That dress is stunning, by the way. Oh, and what are you doing with your hair?

“Ugh, I don’t really wanna bother too much with it, so I figured I’d go with the… messy, loose waves.” You shrugged, applying the lipstick.

Mara snorted. I think you mean, ‘sorry I’m late I was doing things’ while ignoring Jesse staggering behind you clearly radiating ‘I’m things’ energy.

You half-choked, laughing despite yourself. “Mara-! Seriously!”

She rolled her eyes at you. I’m just saying it like it is. But you go girlie, you look bomb. She laughed. Blow them all away. Be the boss bitch you are. A noise in the background interrupted her. Oop, that’s my cue. I gotta go, text me though okay?

“Will do, tell Damien and Jacen hi for me.” You smiled and hung up, finishing fluffing your hair. Standing, you grabbed the phone and headed for the door. “The meeting is in five minutes,” you remarked to Jesse as you passed him in the doorway. “If you want to join.”

You saw him type on his phone, the text to speech translator sounding a moment later. May I be there with you?

You flashed him a warm smile, as though you weren’t at all deliberately enacting revenge. “Of course! I’d love to have you there. Let’s go.” With a little hum, you headed towards the stairs.

Your phone pinged with a message. Girl, I swear he was drooling. You’re so mean sometimes. Not that he didn’t deserve it.

You suppressed a laugh, replying with one hand as your other slid down the bannister to guide you down the staircase. You know it. Mission so far successful. Wish me luck, I’m about to go into this meeting.

You looked up as you got to the bottom of the stairs, seeing an assistant waiting with the guest. The assistant bowed politely. “May I introduce Mr. Trace, CEO of Finley Bank.”

Giving the assistant a nod, you turned to Mr. Trace. “Greetings, Mr. Trace. Welcome! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I do apologize for the delay,” you said, taking charge and sweeping towards the parlor.

He followed after automatically. “Of course, Mrs. Cromeans,” he answered, quickly recovering from his moment of bewilderment.

You motioned to a chair, sitting on the velvet couch across the coffee table. “Please, please, have a seat,” you said, keeping the easy smile on your face. “Can I get you a drink? Anything at all?”

He blinked, sitting down and setting his briefcase next to him. “Ah— thank you. I’d appreciate a scotch on the rocks if it’s available.”

“Of course,” you said easily, nodding to the maid standing nearby. “A red wine for me, please.” You smiled at Jesse as he sat next to you. “Your regular?” you asked sweetly. At his nod, you turned back to the maid. “And a glass of dry white.”

She bowed and went to go fetch the drinks.

“I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, Mr. Trace,” you said smoothly, “so I’ll not take any more of your time than necessary. Of course, as I said, I’d like to discuss several things with you…”

Twenty minutes later found you leaning against the arm of the couch, feet propped up beside you as you swirled the last dregs of the red wine, tapping the glass with your fingernails. The CEO had long since emptied his scotch, and Jesse was on his second glass. His fingers kept clenching around the flute of his glass every time your feet brushed against his thigh.

“Of course,” Trace said with a nod, jotting down the final notes on the paperwork. “Easily managed. Are there any other details you would like to add or anything else to discuss?” He looked up at you.

Your tactics of firm politeness and the scotch seemed to have worked their charm, and you’d been able to rather easily dominate the flow of the interaction. Not to mention, Mara had been right about appearances clearly setting a tone. Trace seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact with either you or Jesse.

“Not at all, Mr. Trace,” you said, a pleased note in your voice. “I’m rather pleased at how everything has turned out. We do so value your business, you know.” You tilted the glass in your fingers. “Shall I sign the papers?”

“At your leisure.” He slid them across the table toward you.

You slowly uncurled yourself like a lazy feline, straightening yourself and leaning over to set the glass down on the table. Grasping the pen, you slowly signed your name on the papers, eyes glancing over the print to ascertain that everything was in order. Shuffling through the papers, you finally set the pen down.

Trace took them back, glancing through them before nodding. “Everything seems to be in order.” He slid them back into his briefcase. “Thank you as always for your business, Mrs. Cromeans, Mr. Cromeans.”

You nodded, and Jesse stood, setting his glass down. You rose as well, sliding your arm into the crook of his elbow as he automatically adjusted for you. “And thank you for your help, Mr. Trace,” you answered easily. “I do hope you have a productive rest of the day. Do be safe out there.”

He nodded as the assistant returned to escort him out. “Same to you.”

With a hum, you absently patted Jesse’s arm and let yours slide out of his grasp, drifting towards the stairs again. “Oh, I need to go tell Mara it’s all confirmed. Besides, this dress is only comfortable for so long,” you remarked, pulling out your phone again.

Guess who completely owns their house now? You texted Mara, smiling. And your tactics worked, I think dominance was asserted.

You waltzed into the bedroom, headed straight for the closet. “Jesse, are you hungry? I think the food I ordered should have arrived by now, it should be in front of the TV. Maybe pick a movie? I still have a few messages to send.”

You changed into a comfortable black babydoll nightdress, sighing in relief as the silk slid over your skin. It was far more comfortable, and you could feel yourself finally starting to relax after the pent-up tension of the meeting. You really did hate dealing with people, especially ones like the CEO.

Your phone buzzed as you went to go pick it back up. You are literally the best. Now go finish seducing Jesse while I go figure out how to make this news sexy.

Stifling a snort, you went to go wipe your makeup off and wash your face. You could hear the sounds of the TV starting in the bedroom, so you took one more glance in the mirror before heading out into the room, still tapping at your phone. You still had to finish some arrangements for Jacen’s birthday, after all, and your revenge was still percolating.

Jesse’s head turned as soon as you approached the couch in front of the TV. You ignored the way he froze, sliding onto the couch and tucking your feet under a soft blanket. Sending off another message, you set it beside you and reached forward to grab a tray, pulling it into your lap.

“I figured you might not want anything too heavy since you just got back, so I kinda just made a guess and ended up ordering too much…” You frowned at the myriad of food laid out over the table. “Sorry, Jesse… I don’t even know if this is what you want—“

The text to speech cut you off. The food is fine, thank you. I’m sorry for being late. I know I can only make excuses, but I am sorry. Can I make it up to you?

A frown touched your lips as you picked up your spoon, still not looking at him. Your fingernails tapped against the screen of your phone. “Jacen asked the other day if Uncle Jesse would be at his party. I told him I didn’t know, but I’d ask.”

He quickly typed. Of course, if he asked for me, I’ll be sure to be there. His fingers paused, then he slowly typed again, as though hesitating. I got you a present while I was gone.

You hummed, swallowing your food and picking your phone back up. “He’ll be happy to hear it. And thank you for the present.” You sent a message to tell Mara that Jacen’s wish had been granted.

Jesse practically fidgeted as he ate, the movie playing in the background. You could feel his eyes slide from the screen to you, could almost hear the wheels in his head frantically turning. The tension in every line of his body was obvious, his movements stilted and jerky. He practically twitched every time you so much as moved.

Finally, you set down the tray, grabbing a mint to refresh your mouth. Shifting to get more comfortable, you angled yourself towards him a little more. You snitched a piece of food from his plate, letting out a hum as you smiled down at Mara’s message. If possible, Jesse stiffened even more, his fingers clenching so hard around his spoon that it even bent a little in his grasp.

A crumb fell from your fingers onto the lace edge of your nightgown, and you let out a quiet noise of protest as you looked down. Your fingers brushed against the top of your breast, brushing off the crumb. Sticking your finger in your mouth, you typed out a message in response to another conversation. With a sigh, you looked up and glanced over Jesse’s shoulder to see the lamp on the table next to him. Night had fallen, and shadows fell over the room.

Stirring yourself, you sat up, setting your phone down for a moment. “Can I turn on the lamp? I don’t wanna get up for the lights,” you said, starting to lean across him. Almost thoughtlessly, you placed your hand on his thigh and put your weight on it, reaching over his body on your hands and knees to pull at the cord on the lamp. The light clicked on, just as a low keening sound came from Jesse.

Your head tilted at the sound, and you turned to look up at his face. It was your turn to freeze.

Jesse’s face had crumpled, his soft green eyes literally awash with tears. His hands were clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with hitching breaths as he struggled to control his expression. The tears welled in his eyes, and faint color had splashed across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Slowly, a smile crossed your lips as you stared up at his face. Leaning back, you tilted your head, licking your lips. “Oh, look at you,” you breathed. “You made all the little piggies cry, Jesse. But maybe it’s your turn, hmm?” Your eyes flickered down to the way his entire body trembled, every muscle taut and strained.

You moved, sliding your entire body into his lap to straddle his waist and face him. Crossing your arms under your chest, you stared into his face. “I don’t know… you broke your promise, though.” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he let out another hoarse whimper. Tears slid down his cheeks, his mouth opening for shuddering breaths.

He shook his head, lips trembling as he lifted one hand and signed. Sorry. Please. Sorry. His fingers spelled out your name.

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands. You leaned up, face drawing closer to his. “But I already accepted your apology, love,” you cooed, smiling. “You know what I think?” You slowly dragged your tongue across his tear tracks, your body flushing with heat at the taste of the bitter salt. “I think,” you murmured against his jaw, “that I like seeing you cry.”

Jesse’s breath hitched on a sob, more tears spilling down his cheeks. It was fairly intoxicating, seeing the giant man completely fall apart under you, trapped between his desperation and his personal standards. When you slid forward, your body pressing flush against him, another sob wrenched from his gritted teeth.

You decided for the moment to have a bit of mercy. Reaching down, you grasped his wrists and lifted his hands to your waist. His fingers instantly clenched in the silk babydoll dress, shaking as he grabbed at your waist. His entire body lurched forwards towards you, eyes fixed on your face.

You hummed softly, brushing a kiss to his jaw. “Your eyes are so pretty when they’re filled with tears, Jesse,” you purred, drawing his face closer to you. Still, you refused to kiss him, instead trailing your lips down his jaw, down to his throat. You opened your mouth against his neck, savoring the taste of his skin and the soft scent of his cologne.

Jesse’s trembling fingers jerked against your waist, and he slumped into you. His hands slid over your waist to your lower back, his touch practically reverent as he squeezed. His breaths came quick and fast, breaking occasionally on a sob. Every time you suckled or moved your lips, every time your hands slid down his shoulders, he gasped and shuddered, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

You slid your hands down, starting to unbutton his shirt. Your tongue dragged across his neck, and you felt the bulge in his pants throb against your thigh. “Isn’t this punishment fair, darling?” you cooed. “I only ask for a few tears, hmm? A front row seat to your pretty eyes?”

His head jerked, even though it wrenched another tortured sob from him. Despite the contact, you could feel his frustration mounting.

You pulled back, looking up at him as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh, you don’t think so?” Your fingers slid across his bared chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “But isn’t this what you wanted? Me, paying attention to you?”

His gasps had turned ragged. His hips jerked, rutting up against your thigh. A strangled noise left his throat, his eyes squeezing shut. His grip on your waist threatened to leave fingerprints against your skin.

“No?” You bit your lip, raking your nails lightly against his chest. “Then what is it you want, hmm?”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, unconsciously licking his own. His fingers clenching, he pulled you down to grind against his cock, straining in his trousers. Pants fell from his mouth, and he kept glancing from your eyes to your lips.

You reached down, teasingly trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Unzipping his trousers, you looked up at his face and smiled as you traced one fingertip down the bulge in his underwear. His eyes fairly rolled back in his head, more tears streaming down his face afresh.

“Look at you, already such a mess,” you murmured, sliding your fingers into his underwear. The moment you wrapped a hand around his cock and slid up, you were rewarded with a guttural groan. He gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to stay still. With a soft laugh, you leaned up and brushed a kiss to his ear.

You tugged at his collar. “Why don’t you lie down for me?” you murmured.

He immediately complied, his hands still clamped around your waist as he turned and shifted up, lying down on the couch. He stared up at you, face still twisted in agony and desperation.

Lifting yourself a little, you tilted your head at him. “Take your pants off for me?”

He practically kicked his pants and underwear off in his haste. You guided one of his hands to the latch on the side of your own panties, giving him an amused smile and nod. His trembling fingers unlatched them, his chest heaving as he watched the black silk slide away from your skin. The moment you lowered back down onto him, his cock throbbed against you and his back arched.

Leaning forward, you hummed a pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Jesse, love,” you murmured. “Cry for me a little more?” You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your wetness coat his own length as you ground against his tip. But you deliberately kept shifting, not giving him any steady pressure.

Another broken whine came from him, and a few more tears slipped down his cheeks. Frustration scrunched his face, his neck mottled with red and flushing down to his shoulders and chest, making your white nail marks stand out. His hips jerked, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You pressed down against him again, feeling his cock slip against your wet folds teasingly.

His head jerked in a nod, almost violently. Tremors kept running through his arms, his body occasionally shuddering under you.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip between yours. Your teeth nipped at his lip, and you finally slanted your mouth over his. Tears poured afresh down his cheeks as he desperately pulled at you, trying to get closer, kiss you more. You relented and let him, thumbs brushing against his jaw as you hummed softly into his frantic, pleading kisses. Without warning, you slipped your tongue between his lips, feeling his mouth part with alacrity. When you finally parted, his green eyes were glazed over with tears, hazily staring at you.

Then you smiled at him slyly. “I think you’ve deserved a little bit more,” you decided.

The moment you slid his tip into you, he choked. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling for breath. His entire body froze, humming taut under you and his eyes sightlessly staring up at the ceiling.

You observed his wrecked expression, licking your lips with satisfaction. Rarely did Jesse ever fully submit to you like this, usually a brat. But tonight, you had absolute and utter control, and you intended to milk every last ounce of satisfaction out of it. The memories would fuel you for years of his utterly ruined expression, tears slipping down his cheeks as he drooled uncontrollably.

“So pretty, darling,” you purred, licking the tears from his cheek. You gave him another kiss, letting his hands wander over your waist and up your front. “So good for me. Do you think you can handle more?”

His eyes widened, breath quickening. He glanced down, then shook his head jerkily. Then nodded. Then shook his head.

You tilted your head. “Hmmm.” A wicked grin crossed your lips. “No? Oh, but I think you can,” your said, just as you lifted yourself and fully sheathed him inside you.

Jesse sobbed. His mouth opened, tongue lolling as he gasped. Tears poured down his cheeks from the mingled pleasurable pain and relief. His cock throbbed inside you, and his hands grasped desperately at your thighs. His entire body started to shake, arching.

You barely gave him time to adjust before you were already bouncing on him, hands braced against the back of the couch. Laughter spilled from your lips, delighted and cruel, as his hands scrabbled against your thighs, raking across your skin. Moans kept being torn from his throat, your name framed on his lips.

As soon as you angled your hips and brought your fingers down to ring tight circles on your clit, you hissed in pleasure. You pulsed around his cock, earning another helpless sob and wave of tears. He just hit that one spot inside you perfectly, again and again, until you bit your lip and moaned his name as you came around him. Your body clenched down on him, even as you kept fucking yourself through your orgasm.

More laughter spilled from your lips. “Are you gonna cum for me, Jesse, my pretty darling?” you asked breathlessly, purposely moaning his name. “Gonna cum inside me?”

The only warning you got from Jesse was another sob and the gritting of his teeth. His hands flew to your hips, slamming you down on him one more time before holding you there with an iron grip. Gasps tore from his mouth, his eyes trying to blink away tears as he stared up at you.

You hummed, caressing his hands and arms as you bit your lip in satisfaction. He kept pouring into you, his hips jerking once in a while and wringing a whimper from him. Finally, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His lips parted under yours weakly, chest heaving under your hands.

“Thank you, Jesse,” you cooed sweetly between kisses. “You’re so good to me, make me feel so good.” Your mind fuzzed with the pleasure of both your high and the sight of his tears.

He pushed up against you, kissing you fervently. Though he didn’t say a word, you could feel his thoughts through his drugged, sloppy kiss.

You giggled, teasingly clenching down on him one more time and earning a jerk and grunt. “And I forgive you. But don’t do it again, okay?”

Jesse’s calculating look as he clearly weighed the consequences made you roll your eyes but laugh. Maybe this one would turn out to backfire against you, next time.

You decided it was worth it.

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tomurasprincess · 3 years

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Kinktober 26: Demon (The Summoning Circle)

Day 26: Demon Title: The Summoning Circle Pairing: Kurogiri x Reader Word Count: 3.6k Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, demon sex powers, manipulation, coercion, death, orgasm denial, overstimulation, forced orgasms, mentions of past cheating (not Kurogiri), yandere Notes: Thank you to Literary Genius @burnedbyshoto for helping me when I was stressing out over an ending for this.

Kinktober Masterlist

You’ve double and triple checked the spell, gone over the necessary ingredients, and compared the sigils drawn on the floor to the Ars Goetia grimoire you hold in your hand over a dozen times at this point. There is no way that a single thing is out of place, no way that you’ve made even a simple mistake.

You have at least a general idea that you must be careful with these kinds of things, although you have no personal experience. According to the grimoire, if there is even one small error in the binding sigils, you will find yourself dead or worse when you summon a demon.

You’re not even sure where the book came from. You found it in your attic while cleaning and trying to distract yourself from the anger you felt towards your partner. You wanted revenge on them more than anything, and finding the book almost seemed like a sign telling you exactly how to get it.

So here you are now, attempting to summon a demon. You chose a lower ranked demon from the Ars Goetia, deciding to err on the side of caution even though you’re not sure this will work at all.

And so, with a deep breath, you find yourself chanting the Latin incantation in the spellbook, walking around the circle as you do and spreading incense. When you finish, you find yourself standing in front of a still empty summoning circle, feeling remarkably stupid for thinking this could ever work.

Until the room’s temperature begins to drop rapidly, causing you to be able to see the fog of your own breath in the cold air. All of the lights in the room dim and then shatter, scattering glass everywhere. The candles surrounding the circle sputter and flicker for several seconds before finally being snuffed out, leaving you in total darkness.

Despite the pitch black, you can see something moving in the darkness, something that looks like purple mist creeping in. There is a noise that sounds like when someone opens a window or door on a windy day and you hear the pressure of the air rushing past you.

The purple spirals upwards until it finally begins to coalesce into the shape of a man. The candles flicker back on, the flames flaring up far higher than they should be able to and causing strange looking shadows to appear on the wall. When your eyes finally adjust, you realize that there is only purple mist where the man’s head should be and yellow eyes staring at you like they see right through you down to your soul.

“You summoned me, mortal?” The demon’s voice is deep and full of amusement. He paces the very edge of the circle, and you’re suddenly very glad that you double checked the sigils, as he pauses every small step to investigate them. Checking for some sort of flaw to escape, most likely.

“I - maybe - I,” you stumble over your words and he chuckles.

“Maybe? It’s a yes or no question.”

“I did do a summoning, yes. But I didn’t - “

“Didn’t expect a demon like me?” He interrupts you before you can finish. He chuckles even louder when you simply nod your head.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he states, “I am a high ranked demon far beyond your capabilities to summon, mortal.”

“Then how are you here?”

“I came to aid you of my own free will.” He has finished his cycle around the sigils keeping him imprisoned, turning to look into your eyes. The penetrating gaze he levels at you has you squirming, and you’re the first to look away.

“Why would you do that though?” You begin to pace yourself, nervous energy rising up in you at the unusual situation you’ve found yourself in. This wasn’t what you expected to happen, and you’re left off balance.

“Because I can feel your rage, mortal. You want to punish someone, don’t you?”

Your eyes snap back to his, and he gives a slight nod as if encouraging you to continue.

“I - do want to punish someone. My ex-partner.”

The mist around the demon’s face seems to swirl with amusement. “Let me guess - cheating?”

Your eyes widen a fraction at the demon being so on the mark. “Yes, I caught them in bed with someone else.”

“A tragedy, really. Anyone foolish enough to cheat on someone like you deserves whatever they get.”

You can’t stop the heat that rises to your cheeks at the slight bit of flirtation. “I - thank you. Is it something you can help me with?”

“Of course, mortal. Revenge is something that I am quite good at. But I don’t like to make deals through a summoning circle. Shows a lack of trust, you see.” He steps a bit closer to the edge of the circle and raises his hands up in a placating manner. “Let me out as a good faith gesture.”

Your body instantly tenses. The reasoning makes sense, but the thought of this demon being free puts you on guard.

“I’m not so sure about that one,” you say hesitantly. “The book says you absolutely should not do that.”

“What book is this?” The demon says curiously. “Surely it won’t hurt to allow me to see it?”

You can’t think of anything that he could do with the book to act against you, so you slide it across the barrier without putting your hand through.

He picks up the book and begins to flip through it, making some hums of acknowledgement as he reads the pages. He glances back at your summoning circle before turning a few more pages and finding the exact spell that you used to summon him.

“Ahh, so this is the spell you intended to cast for a lesser demon summoning.”

“I didn’t actually expect it to work at all,” you admit. “And I definitely didn’t expect to summon anything like you.”

“Anything like me? You mean an incubus?”

“I - what, I don’t - “ You stumble over your own words. Even someone as ignorant as you are knows what kind of demon that is. And it’s well over your experience level. “Is that what kind of demon you are?” You finally manage to get out.

“Oh yes it is,” he says in a rumbling tone of laughter. “You may call me Kurogiri. And what about you?”

You say your name before you can think better of it, and the demon called Kurogiri’s eyes brighten in excitement.

“This book has one thing right. A demon’s word is law. If I swear an oath that I won’t betray you, then I am bound to it. So why don’t you let me out and we can work out a deal, hmm?”

You shift around from one foot to the other while you consider things. He seems reasonable and willing to deal with you, and he’s even willing to give you an oath. All he’s asking is to not be locked in a cage. “I want your word first.”

His eyes flash with dark humor at your words. “I swear that I will not betray you.”

You feel the weight of those words settle into your chest, as if a physical bond was created. You realize this must be the oath, preventing him from hurting you, and so you walk forward and smudge the circle enough for him to walk through. He strides through confidently, eyes zooming in on you instantly. The look of malicious glee on his face causes you to inadvertently take a step back.

That expression on his face tells you that you made a horrible mistake. The air seems to get heavy as the room heats up, his power building and building. It hits you in the face like a physical force, causing you to stumble before turning on your heel to run.

But you don’t make it very far. As you grab for the doorknob, the heat of it causes you to jerk your hand back. You turn to see the demon standing in the same spot, arm raised as he beckons you to him. You take sluggish steps forward, almost as if in a dream. You can feel what’s happening, but you can’t stop yourself from walking towards your doom.

In no time at all, you’re standing in front of him, forced to look up at his face as he towers above you. You’re burning up, skin feeling too tight as an insistent throb between your legs begins. You try to turn away, but you’re frozen in place as the demon takes a now clawed hand and traces it down your face.

‘You - swore that you wouldn’t betray me.” You’re surprised to find that your voice still works.

“Oh I promise you,” Kurogiri whispers seductively, “you’re going to love what I’m about to do to you.”

And with that, a clawed hand tangles in your hair as he crashes his lips against yours. A dominant tongue slips into your mouth as his teeth bite against your lower lip. You can do nothing but stand there and let him do as he wishes, the throbbing between your legs only intensifying as you feel slick drip down your inner thighs.

He pulls away, leaving you gasping for air and your lips swollen and bruise. “What did you do to me,” you pant, finally finding yourself able to move as you squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction.

“Just a bit of incubus magic,” he chuckles, grabbing you and lifting you easily as he carries you to the summoning circle. He lays you down on your back in the middle of the circle before taking time to undress himself slowly, removing piece after piece as if it’s a show.

You can’t help but admire how beautiful his body is underneath the fancy suit he wears. You squirm around, trying to move, to anything to relieve this fire burning through your veins. But with a smirk, he paralyzes you again before settling in between your legs. He removes your clothes next, forgoing making a show of it and choosing instead to rip them off of you.

Soon you’re laying in nothing but your panties, wet spot clearly visible through the material. “Well look at this,” he murmurs, “already so wet for me.” He glides a finger across the wet spot, drawing a whine deep from the back of your throat as he slides your soaked panties down from your hips. You’re left vulnerable in front of him, unable to close your legs as he spreads them far apart.

Your bare pussy is left completely visible to him, slick gushing out of you as he examines you. “Such a pretty pussy. I’m sure you won’t mind if I have a taste - “

He leans in to lap at your juices, groaning and causing vibrations to shoot right through you. He spreads you open with two fingers as he suckles your clit, sliding two fingers easily into your core. You’re still paralzyed by whatever power he’s using, and so you’re forced to feel everything, every action seeming more intense from your inability to move.

He increases the suction on your clit, tongue lashing and swirling against the throbbing bead and causing a moan to slip from your throat. “Hngg, please, oh shit - “

“Does that feel good, mortal?” He coos at you, curling his fingers up to graze a sensitive spot inside that draws a shout from you. “I am barely even trying yet, and already you’re such a beautiful mess underneath me.”

You pant heavily as his fingers work inside of you, tongue refusing to let up on your now aching clit. The tension is building and building, and you whine as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Please, oh fuck,” you groan, not even sure if you’re begging him to stop or to never stop. “It feels so good -”

He lifts up just enough to take in your sweaty, breathless form, chest heaving and drool running down the corner of your mouth. “Do you want to cum?”

“Yes yes yes,” you babble mindlessly, right at the edge of an orgasm but unable to crash over. “Please!”

“Then call me your master, mortal.”

You’re too far gone to think of the consequences, the heat from within you burning through your veins. “Master, please let me cum! I need to cum so bad, please!”

He hums in pleasure, fingers inside of you quickening their pace, relentlessly smashing against your g-spot as his mouth latches around your throbbing clit again. You scream out your orgasm, juices squirting all over the demon’s face as you try to writhe.

Everything feels so sharp, so intense because of your paralysis, and you’re pushed over the edge twice more before he finally lets up. Your body is finally allowed to move, only for you to go limp as you shake and shudder.

You think things are over until you feel something hot and hard prodding at your entrance. Your eyes snap to his, eyes widening with alarm as you feel how thick he is.

“You didn’t think I was actually done with you, did you?” He flips you over, pressing your face down into the floor and raising your ass into the air as he sinks into you, inch by slow inch. You realize quickly that he doesn’t feel like a regular man, ridges and bumps running along his length that grind against your inner walls and force you to stretch around him even more.

Your fingers dig hard into the floor as you try to breathe. It hurts more than you would think, but in your lust addled mind, even the pain feels delicious.

“Does it hurt, little one?” The demon asks mockingly as you throw your head back. arching your back in a way that you can’t tell whether it’s to get away or to get closer. “I know I’m not like a mortal man, but trust me,” he grunts as he finally bottoms out inside of you, “you’ll take me anyway, and you’ll love every minute of it.”

The spines dig into your flesh, making your eyes water stinging sensation it causes. He gives you only a second to adjust before he’s thrusting, causing you to scream at the explosion of sensation.

He grips your hips as he pounds into you, forcing you back to meet his every thrust. There is one particularly large bump along his length that hits a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars with every single movement, and your whole body quivers as your stomach tightens.

You feel like you’re going to burn up from the inside, sweat dripping from your face and hitting the floor as the sound of pants and moans fill the room. His heavy balls hit your clit with every sharp snap of his hips, and the wet sounds your bodies make as they connect are positively obscene.

“Shit shit shit,” you chant as you clamp down around the many ridges along length, causing pleasure and pain to shoot through you which in turn makes you clench down even harder. “Fuck, it feels so - fuck it feels amazing,” you whine, realizing that your hand has come underneath you to begin stroking your throbbing, aching clit. Your mind is so foggy that you aren’t even aware when you started.

But the tight circles you’re rubbing on your swollen little clit are not getting you any closer to that blissful climax. Everytime you get close, it seems to fade away, and you whine from deep in the back of your throat.

“Oh my, do you want to cum again, little one?” Kurogiri’s deep voice rumbles. “Beg me to take your soul and I will let you.”

The reality of the situation crashes back into you all at once. Of course, how could you forget? You’re being fucked into submission by a demon that you were stupid enough to release from the summoning circle. You can’t give in, can’t let him have your soul -

“Fuck, no, why,” you whimper in a choked sob as your orgasm slips away from you yet again. Your fingers increase their speed, grinding down so hard on your clit that you’re beginning to get sore. You push back against the demon’s every thrust, hoping against hope that maybe you can fool him.

But as if he can hear your thoughts, he instantly stops moving and your orgasm falls even further away from you. Tears of frustration are streaming from your eyes and hitting the floor underneath you. “Please!”

“I can do this forever, have you hovering at the edge with no release until you go mad with the desperate need to cum. Do you think you can hold on that long, little one?” He mocks you as he begins to move again, fast enough that it’s pleasurable but not as fast or as hard as you need right now.

“N-n-n-o, please!”

“Then say it. Say your soul belongs to me, and I will give you whatever you desire, little one.” He moves your hand away from your clit to replace it with his own. “Don’t you want to feel how good it is to cum around a demon’s cock?”

You’re sobbing and trembling, the fire in you threatening to consume you if you don’t cum right this moment. But still you shake your head back and forth, fighting not to give in to this sadistic demon.

“Come now, little one,” he whispers into your ear. “No one is going to save you from me. Just give in and I will make you feel better than you have ever felt.”

As he grazes over your clit with one finger at the same time as the ridge pushes against your g-spot, your willpower finally snaps completely. “Kurogiri, my soul is yours! Please just let me cum, please!”

He chuckles a bit, slightly at first before building into a triumphant, booming laugh that seems to come from deep inside of him. “The contract is sealed.” You feel a sharp tugging from within you, at the very core of your being. Everything in your being seems to be screaming out at once as purple mist shoots out from him to enter your body before disappearing, forming a connection between the two of you that will never be broken.

You want to consider the implications behind it, want to rage and scream at what was just done to you. But then he begins to move, and reason flies out of your head and is replaced with pure lust.

Rough fingers dig deep into the skin of your hips as he begins to ruthlessly pound into your aching pussy, thumb grinding down hard on your clit. He pushes against your g-spot with every single movement, and it isn’t long before the pressure reaches a crescendo.

You wail as you’re finally pushed over the edge, juices gushing from you as you squirt all over the demon’s cock. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe, fucking you roughly through your orgasm and overstimulating you through several more orgasms.

Finally, he begins to twitch and throb, shoving himself fully inside of you as hot ropes of cum spurt out against your unprotected cervix. The warmth spreading out feels hot enough to burn your insides, and you cum one last time with a strangled howl before collapsing limply onto the floor.

You feel dizzy, the room spinning wildly as you try to catch your bearings. He collects you into his arms, the mist that makes up his face seeming to form into a smirk. “Now you belong to me, little one.”

“What are you going to do with me?” You say weakly, not able to move or try to get out of his arms. “Are you going to let me go now?

“Of course not. I have waited too long for you, and now I have you. Your body and soul are both mine, forever.”

You’re not sure why you feel so weak all of a sudden, body becoming heavy and sluggish as if you’re being drained of energy. You’re beginning to lose consciousness, vision turning purple around the edges. But his wording causes a thought to form. “I did the summoning correctly, didn’t I?”

He chuckles a bit. “Yes, you did. But I was waiting, and I killed the pathetic demon you tried to summon.”

“And our deal? Were you ever sincere about it?”

“Of course I was sincere about it. In fact, your ex is already dead. Not only did they dare to put their hands on what’s mine, they discarded you like a piece of trash once they were done. Their punishment in the afterlife will be quite severe.” “What’s happening to me?” You whimper, voice breaking at the end from fear and confusion.

He grins maliciously at you. “I am draining you of every bit of life force you have. You will die, and your soul will be tied to mine for eternity.”

“But your oath!” You try desperately to stop this, to avoid being killed by this demon. “You said you wouldn’t betray me!”

“It's not betrayal if I intended to do this from the beginning, now is it?”

Your mouth falls open in horror of how stupid you’ve been, how truly in over your head you were.

“Now fade away, little one. Don’t fight it. When you wake up, you’ll be in your new home. In Hell with me, where you belong.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @wings-flames-and-ashes, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main, @aryjaa, @theodora3022, @raekah, @ineedmorefanfics, @serosmissingtoe, @deathmemeiverse, @chibikochannumberone, @saint-eridell, @miscellaneous-bnha, @katsukis-sad-angel

#kinktober 2020 #kurogiri x reader #kurogiri smut #yandere kurogiri #kurogiri #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere mha #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: cheating #tw: coercion #tw: manipulation

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years

Note

Whumper 4, caretaker 5 caretaker (doesn't know it's blood)

Is that ok?

Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Caretaker 5: “Let me help you.”

Yeah, of course that's ok :) I'm guessing that the parenthesis was supposed to go before the 'caretaker' and they don't know about the blood? well, I hope that's it because that's what I wrote haha, but if it wasn't, please feel free to send me another ask <3

Also, some content warnings because this one ended up a little intense: implied noncon (didn't mean to write it like that but the vibes are there so), noncon drugging, a very creepy and intimate whumper... there's comfort at the end though!

Whumpee should’ve known there was something weird about Whumper. No one could smile that big and talk that kindly without wanting something in return. They just never thought it’d be this.

“Come on, now. I don’t have the whole night. What’s your choice?”

All Whumpee does is close their eyes and shake their head, too overwhelmed to force any words out of their quivering lips.

“Whumpee, it’s not a hard one,” Whumper huffs, and they can hear the annoyance in their voice but they can’t convince themself to say the words. “Do you need me to repeat it to you?”

They don’t, the sound of Whumper’s offer still echoes inside their head, loud and clear.

But Whumper takes their silence as agreement.

“Here’s your choice: you can take these pills and be the entertainment of my party tonight, or I can go snatch someone else to do it. You’ll only stay if you agree, and if you don’t, I’ll let you walk away and never see me again. It’d be a shame though, because everything is ready for you. I’ve been watching you, and oh Whumpee, you are just so… perfect. But, in case you say no, I can always go after someone else. Say… Caretaker? I’m told they are a friend of yours.”

Their heart pounds in their ears, so loud Whumpee is almost surprised Whumper can’t hear it too.

“I can go get them if you want me to. Can’t promise they’ll come out in one piece after my guests finish playing, though. Not like I can promise you. You are far too precious to be permanently damaged, you I can promise to keep somewhat safe. Caretaker on the other hand, not so much. Who knows what those troglodytes could do to them if I give them a free pass?”

Whumper’s laugh fills the basement Whumpee woke up in only minutes ago, bouncing off the walls and making Whumpee’s skin crawl. How could they trust the mysterious stranger who offered them a ride? Why hadn’t they been more careful? Now here they are, locked in a basement with someone twice their size and no hope of escape. If only they’d been more careful–

“Well?” Whumper says, drawing Whumpee’s attention back to those narrowed eyes, glinting with cruelty.

“W-what will you do to me?” Whumpee whispers through the thick layer of fear enveloping their world. “If, if I say yes… what then?”

Their smile is almost as horrid as their laughter. Whumpee shrinks against the wall, pulling their knees closer to their chest. “If you say yes my love, the pills will start working in a few minutes. I will give you a nice new outfit while the drugs do their job and then when you are barely able to walk, I’ll help you up the stairs. Everyone will be so happy to see you, Whumpee.” Their eyes burn, but no tears fall when Whumper scoots closer and touches their hair, gentle fingers brushing back sweaty locks. “And then we will have fun. You’ll barely remember it afterward, but I will remember it forever. You might be left with some sore spots but all temporary. Well, almost all temporary, won’t promise one or two marks for you to remember me later. Maybe a few scratches, some of my friends are remarkably fond of knives. But the point here is that you’ll make anything we want you to, and that’s the real fun.”

“And if I say no?”

“If you say no, I’ll go after your friend. Kidnap them, just like I did you. And when they awake, they won’t be given the choice I’m giving you since it wasn’t them I really wanted. I’ll take them upstairs, and we’ll make them hurt. Scream. Cry. Maybe I’ll record it and send it all to you so you know what fate you chose for them. Now, what's your choice, Whumpee? Tell me.”

As they speak terrible word after terrible word, Whumper’s fingers continue to play with Whumpee’s hair. Twisting and brushing and caressing. Always so soft, so awfully soft in comparison to the nightmares they spit into Whumpee’s brain.

“Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?”

A tear finally escapes, only to be brushed away by Whumper’s touch.

“But don’t worry. If you make the right choice, It won’t be all pain, baby. It’ll be about those big scared eyes and that delightful little quiver on your lip. About how gorgeous you will look when you’re barely able to walk, and how you will cling when you can’t think straight. And I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll take care of you.”

Whumper is right.

In the end, it isn’t a hard choice.

Whumpee closes their eyes and nods at the same time a soft, broken “okay,” slips out of their lips. It doesn’t feel like the lock of a door they were expecting. It feels like taking a step into the void, and knowing there’ll be thorns waiting for them when they fall.

Still, it’s with Caretaker’s smile in their head that they force themself to swallow when two round pills touch their lips. They don’t open their eyes until a bottle of water is held for them to drink from. It is only when there is no more chance for them to break and plead to be let go, even if they want to, desperately, that they let their eyes flutter open.

Whumper is waiting for them with a wide smile when they do.

“Let us begin then.”

And so they do.

Whumper brushes Whumpee’s hair and gently applies makeup to their face. When they ask Whumpee to undress and give them new clothes, they don’t hesitate to obey, and only when Whumper is closing their zipper for them do they realize how faint they feel.

When they are placed in front of a mirror, Whumpee looks at the shiny clothes but forgets what they looked like as soon as they are led away. By the time the door is opened and music first hits their ears, they are leaning against Whumper to keep standing.

They try to climb the stairs. Narrowing their eyes to concentrate, they raise their foot, but the world is filled with blurred colors and too-quick movement, and the only reason they don’t fall is Whumper’s fast hands holding them up.

Whumpee is almost grateful when Whumper chuckles and whispers against their hair. “Easy there, baby. Let me help you.”

They rest their head against Whumper’s heart when they are picked up bridal style, and stay that way until the lighting changes and voices fill the air.

They are placed on the floor, and with Whumper’s help, manage to keep standing, even though the floor refuses to stand still under their feet.

And then there are hands on their hands, squeezing and hurting, and Whumpee tries, they try so hard, but instead of the firm no they want to say, only a moaned “n-hng, I, I, d-don, wha-what’s hap-happe–,” comes out.

And then the world slips away, and though their body still moves, they are barely there anymore to see it.

When Caretaker’s doorbell rings, they don’t hesitate to jump out of bed and run to the door. They’ve been sending Whumpee messages all night without response, and concern rings louder than sleep. Only when they open the door and see the sunrise do they realize how early it already is.

And then their gaze slides to the figure leaning against their doorframe, head bowed and shoulders slumped, and their heart misses a beat.

“Whumpee?” Caretaker calls, reaching out their hand.

But before they can touch sparkly clothes they’ve never seen their friend wearing before, Whumpee cowers away. Caretaker retreats, but their heart races even faster.

“Whumpee, what’s wrong? Where were you, did something happen?”

Whumpee looks up, and Caretaker doesn’t need an answer to know what happened. Wide pupils, half-lidded eyes, smudged makeup and parted lips tell them all they need to know.

“Oh, Whumpee.”

There are stains all over their clothes, too. Is it spilled alcohol? Is it vomit?

“Oh, Whumpee,” Caretaker sighs again, taking a slow step in their direction, feeling a sad, involuntary frown settling on their forehead. “What did you do?”

Whumpee follows their steps with their eyes but keeps still. It is only when Caretaker comes close enough for touch and extends their hand that they wince and shrink into themself again.

“Honey, I can see you’re not okay,” Caretaker says as calmly as they can. “Let me help you.”

Another step, and this time all Whumpee does is close their eyes and let out a low whimper. Caretaker sighs again as they help Whumpee wrap their arm around their shoulders and lead them inside.

Whumpee is almost a dead weight in Caretaker’s arms as they help them get into the bathroom, to seat on the toilet and lean back against the wall.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Caretaker asks, crouched down in front of Whumpee.

“I, I, I don– don’t, W-Whum-per. They, they, they did... something.”

“Who’s Whumper, love?”

But all Whumpee does is shake their head no as tears stream down their cheeks.

“Okay, you can tell me later. Can you at least tell me what did you use?”

The look Whumpee gives Caretaker is so utterly lost, that they nearly start crying as well.

“Don’t… kn-know. Pills?”

“How about a shower, and then we talk more, huh?” Caretaker tries, nodding encouragingly. Whumpee swallows, but doesn’t nod along with them. Instead, their eyes dart around the bathroom, searching for nothing.

With a reassuring squeeze on their knee, Caretaker gets into the shower and turns on the faucet. As the water warms up, they take one look at Whumpee’s slumped form and walk over to the mirror.

Clutching the cold porcelain of the sink, Caretaker looks up at their own image in the mirror – tired and disappointed, but also patient. Worried.

“You can do this,” they mouth to themself, “Whumpee needs your help.”

With one last sigh, they turn their head to Whumpee and take a step in their direction. And then a step back, when something grabs their attention at their peripheral vision.

Caretaker stares at their image in the mirror again and feels their heart stop when they see their sleeve stained red. The sleeve where their friend’s arm had just touched.

It isn't alcohol or puke on Whumpee’s clothes.

It is blood.

“Whumpee,” they call, dropping to their knees in front of them. Whumpee jumps and meets Caretaker’s stare with wide, scared eyes. “You are bleeding. Are you hurt? I need you to tell me where you are hurt, Whumpee.”

But all they do is breathe faster and faster, pure helplessness on their face.

“If you can’t tell me, I need to find the source of blood on my own. I’m taking your shirt off, okay?”

Caretaker doesn’t wait for an answer, and Whumpee doesn’t give them one.

They don’t fight Caretaker’s hands when they pull the shirt over their head, even when a pained hiss leaves their lips.

Caretaker holds their breath when they see Whumpee’s bared skin.

Bruises color their entire torso, as well as long crisscrossing welts. Their arms are covered in small, rounded marks that look dreadfully like cigarette burns. Cuts, deep and superficial litter everything, some already closed, some still weeping blood. There’s barely any smooth skin left.

“What happened to you?” Caretaker breathes, searching for answers in Whumpee’s terrified eyes. “Who did this?”

All the answer they get is a soft sob and a cold forehead hitting their shoulder as Whumpee falls forward and nuzzles into their neck.

Caretaker hugs them back, careful not to touch or press on sore skin, feeling their stomach churn when their fingers bump into more cuts along their back.

“I’m here now,” Caretaker whispers against their hair, tears of their own rolling down their cheeks, “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again, Whumpee. You are safe. You are safe.”

They stay like that until the bathroom is foggy from the warm water falling from the shower and Whumpee’s shoulders stop shaking, but when Caretaker helps them undress and oh-so-carefully cleans the wounds, there’s only drowsiness and chemicals behind the fear in their eyes.

They have no idea what they'll do once Whumpee comes to. Or what they'll do to whoever Whumper is if they get the chance.

Prompts from this list. Still taking them but I can't promise how fast I'll write it haha

#whump #whump writing #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #drug whump #noncon drugging #kidnapping whump #vomit mention #noncon touching #caretaking #implied torture #implied noncon #self sacrifice

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saturdaysky · 3 years

Note

Time-traveling Caleb meets Essek as a child please.

(from the ask me about my WIP meme)

This WIP was one of the first things I wrote when I decided I wanted to learn to write late last year!

It began as a snippet I was writing for a prompt in the big Essek discord, something along the lines of “kid Essek proposes marriage to Caleb” -- pretty fluffy, lighthearted, and cute. Naturally this meant I plotted something bittersweet about love and the grief for selves who never were and whom we no longer have a chance to be.

The premise: Sometime in the future, Essek and Caleb are together and have developed a spell that allows temporary travel to a decayed or decaying timeline. Caleb uses it and accidentally winds up much further back in time than intended, where he meets Essek as a child. Young Essek is lonely and hides Caleb on the Thelyss estates for a week or so while Caleb rides out the spell. From there, it’s a character study as Caleb gets to know Essek in his early life.

I don’t know if I’ll finish this one. Reading through it, if I returned to it I’d want to rewrite most of it since I understand writing and these characters a little better now. So who knows! Have part of 2 scenes. :)

Scene: One hour before the spell ends and the timeline decays for good

At the sound of Caleb’s footsteps in the courtyard, Essek turns slowly to face him, posture exactingly correct in a way that speaks of both practice and nerves. He inclines his head and folds his hands in formal greeting, the grace of the gesture falling a little awkwardly on his small frame.

“Master Widogast,” he begins, and then stops. Takes a shallow breath. “I know you are to depart today. I- I wished to speak with you before you are gone.”

His tone reaches for the chilly gravitas of his mother, but a muddled panic lurks around the edges of his words. Caleb returns the formal greeting, but lets his lips curve into a friendly smile. “I am here to listen. What would you ask of me?”

The lines of Essek’s shoulders ease a fraction. He drifts over, ignoring the whorls of the tiled labyrinth below in favor of making a line straight to Caleb. He stops a foot and a half away, as close as etiquette allows, and fidgets, one hand twisting the edge of a sleeve.

“I...there is a parting gift I wished to give you.” Essek’s small fingers shake a little as he draws the line to open his wristpocket. The spell takes and he lets out a satisfied hum as a small black codex tumbles into his hands.

“I made this,” he says, pride suffusing his voice. His courteous smile brightens into unguarded excitement, before fading into something small and hesitant. “It is for you. I know you are going far away somewhere, so...so in case you need to study the floating spell I taught you, I thought you might wish for reference.”

He thrusts the book up at Caleb. “Do not show anyone. Ah, Verin said I should not have told you things at all and I could get in trouble, so maybe keep it secret.”

Caleb turns the object over in his hands. It’s a small booklet of notes on dunamancy, written in a child’s scrawl. Essek has written out the directions for the cantrip that lets him float, each step of the spell thoroughly but ineptly diagrammed. Here and there in the margins are poorly-drawn creatures it takes Caleb a moment to realize are cats.

No, Caleb realizes, not cats: cat. All of them are Frumpkin, and all of them have been drawn with the earnest appreciation of a young boy who has seen exactly one cat in his entire life and is making up for lost time.

Caleb traces a finger over the drawings, despair catching at his throat. He wants nothing more than to gather this desperately lonely child into his arms and shield him from the future that will turn him jaded and cruel, that will rip out this tender heart and replace it with callous intent.

But he can’t. He can’t save this Essek. This young echo will be gone forever in an hour. Caleb swallows the lump in his throat.

“You are very kind, Master Thelyss,” he says a little hoarsely. “It was an honor to be your student.”

Scene: Caleb returns from the spell

“Welcome back.” Essek’s silhouette is bent over the desk in front of him as he scratches out notes on a large piece of vellum, but he straightens and glances in Caleb’s direction. His sleeves are rolled up and there is a bit of ink smudged on his nose Caleb is sure he doesn’t know is there.

“Hallo,” Caleb says, meeting Essek’s eyes. They are worried and lovely, and a little tired.

Essek scans Caleb’s body, as if checking to make sure he has all the same appendages he left with. Satisfied, he lets a lopsided smile curl over his face.

“Hallo,” he replies. “That was longer than expected. Did you find the information you were looking for?”

“I did, eventually.”

Essek's eyes narrow, gaze assessing. He sets the pen down on the desk, and turns to fully face Caleb. “But…?”

There is no point in hiding it. “The spell took me back further than intended. I also met you there. As a child.” Shock briefly paints itself on Essek’s face.

“Ah. Unexpected, I- Well,” he says, slim, dark fingers twisting over themselves once before falling still, “I’m sure that was an enlightening experience.” Essek’s voice is light and carefully neutral. By degrees, his smile evens out, grows soft and pleasant. Opaque. Untouchable.

It is the last thing Caleb wants to see right now.

He crosses the floor and Essek looks up at him, eyes shuttered. Caleb cups his face and guides him into a kiss, soft at first, merely comforting himself with Essek’s presence. Essek leans into it. Comfort for the two of them, maybe.

Caleb is good at kissing, and over the last decade, he’s made a dedicated effort to be good at kissing Essek, specifically. He nips at a lower lip and deepens the kiss, drawing a decidedly unchaste noise from Essek. It soothes something in Caleb to hear it, this spark of passion beneath the mask. After a moment, fingers curl into Caleb’s shirt.

Caleb pulls back and whispers into Essek’s ear, pleased to feel him shiver in response. “You were quite the, ah, charmer. You offered your hand in marriage. Scandalous.”

Essek lets out an undignified little snort that charms Caleb to his bones. “I should think I have made my desire for you quite clear in the present. Do not try to play me against my child self, Widogast.” As if to emphasize the point, his fingers slide from Caleb’s chest, over his sides, and onto his back with deliberate slowness. Caleb doesn’t even try to repress his own shiver, and he can feel the resulting smugness radiating from Essek.

“You also taught me to float. You were a very enthusiastic teacher.”

“Did I?” Amusement drips from Essek’s voice. “It is handy for you that you figured that one out yourself years ago.” Over Essek’s shoulder, Caleb can see the notes and diagrams he’s working on. All letters and lines are crisp and precise; not a single wasted mark. There is no hint of embellishment here, Caleb sees. There are no more earnest drawings.

He buries his face in the crook where Essek’s neck meets his shoulder, taking in the comforting, familiar scent of him. Essek shifts to allow him better access, and Caleb breathes him in, letting grief settle in his chest.

After a moment, Essek’s fingers begin to trace lightly across his back, drawing comforting and repetitive patterns. Spell runes, Caleb realizes, and closes his eyes.

You were an earnest child, he does not say, and so achingly desperate for connection that you hid a strange mage in your house and taught him your favorite spell. He does not say, you were kind and you still had hope when you were young. You still talked to your brother. You loved magic like a friend, and no blood stained your hands for it.

Essek knows. Essek does not welcome pity, and Caleb cannot blame him for it. Caleb does not welcome it either.

#asks #my writing #sky learns to write 2k21 #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #shadowgast #catalists #the cool thing about being pretty new at this whole writing business is that you can look back at stuff you wrote and see how much better #you understand what you're doing now than you did then! even if there's certainly still a far distance to go i'm new enough that each step #feels like a big one :)

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bontenten · 3 years

Text

Ours

Pairing: Osamu x f!reader, Atsumu x f!reader

Tags/Warnings: noncon, infidelity, pregnancy/forced abortion, knife stuff, gore, body horror, snuff, wound, necro-stuff, abuse, yandere, angst

Osamu stares at your pregnant belly; a round barrier that’s keeping you away from him. He knows you don’t even want it. Otherwise why would you come crying to his onigiri shop crying tonight. It’s obviously because you tried to go to a clinic, but who in their right mind would try to abort the baby of famous athlete Miya Atsumu?

Atsumu gagged them all with money, tied their hands together with even more promises. There’s nothing for you to do but stay put and birth the child. It took everything for you to find a time with no bodyguards to slip away. If it weren’t for the excuse that you wanted to shop for baby clothes, Atsumu would never have allowed you to even step foot outside the house.

“Please help me,” you sob, taking a step closer to the one who looks almost identical to your fiance. “There’s no one else but you.”

You look pathetic, makeup smudged and messy. Osamu smugly looks down at you. “Only now you finally realize?” He grips your jaw and forces you to look at him, fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your lips pucker. “I told you before, didn’t I? Atsumu’s a crazy bastard, but I would take care of you. All he wants is to use you as a breeding cow, his little cocksleeve. That’s all you’ll ever be to him. Shallow, gold-digging bitch, you reap what you sow.”

“Shh-shhamoo, ‘Samu” you slur between your teeth, “shorrry.” Sorry. You regret it now. You probably shouldn’t have turned Osamu down in the first place for Atsumu. Maybe you really were blinded by Atsumu’s reputation and prestige...and his money. He could give you what Osamu could not at the time and the simple life working tirelessly, saving and making ends meet wasn’t how you wanted to live. But really, you shouldn’t have ever gotten yourself involved with the twins.

“Sorry? SORRY?! You say?” Slap. Osamu yanks you back up with a fistful of your hair. “You hurt me. I loved you and gave you my heart, but you...you broke me. And now you’re just going to sweep it all under the rug with ‘sorry’?”

“Sorry, I really am ‘Samu,” you sob, wincing from the sharp pain shooting through your scalp. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. Please help me, I’m begging you. I know only you can save me now.”

The tight grip on your hair relents and Osamu wipes the messy trail of smudged makeup from beneath your eye. He smiles almost gently, “That’s right, only I can protect you. Stupid, took you too long.”

Osamu’s kisses are deceptively soft. Another reason you left Osamu for Atsumu is also this. Osamu made you feel like you were dangled over deep waters with no safety net. You couldn’t tell what was on his mind, he hid his thoughts much better than Atsumu. Atsumu was more straightforward and that gave you security. But right now, only Osamu can give you safety and protection. Even though you know it’s not right, the time and the person, you can’t help but respond back

Your hands thread through his grey locks as bodies come closer until Osamu feels your pregnancy pressed against him. He pulls away abruptly and stares. You follow his eyes to your belly and the unmistakable growing biology within it beyond the skin and flesh.

“You want to get rid of it, right?” Osamu mutters, palming the protrusion.

“Yes...but—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, stalking to the kitchen quickly. You find him back a moment later with a knife in his hand, sharpened tip pointed at you. “You asked me to help, I’m going to help you.”

“What are you doing?” you ask hesitantly, unsure and frightened. With the blade pointed at your throat you have no choice but to back up as Osamu comes closer to you. You feel the edge of the table at your hip, another step and your stumble, falling back onto the table surface.

Osamu loosens the tie on his apron and stands between your legs, forcing them apart. You hear some buckling noises and strain your head to see his length fully erect. His hands travel to your waist to pull your skirt and panties down. Your hand stops him in their tracks. Your widened eyes are alarmed at what Osamu really wants.

“Not this! Please, not this ‘Samu,” you argue, trying to pull his hand away from tearing the clothing from you.

Osamu deftly slices the knife across the back of your hand, drawing out a thin line of red. The pain has your hand flinching away, letting Osamu pull the skirt down, exposing the naked skin of your belly, and pussy folds below it. “Gonna fuck this bastard out of you,” he mutters, stuffing himself into your hole.

You scream, legs kicking out wildly as you feel the thick intrusion sheath itself into you fully. You can feel the tip pushing through your tight muscles, getting closer and closer to your womb.

“Fuck,” Osamu groans. “If I didn’t see your pregnant belly, I would’ve thought you were a little virgin. You’re so fucking tight.”

“No! Please I’m begging you, stop!”

“You begged me to help you get rid of the little bastard.” He hammers into you even harder, assaulting your cervix, the one that’s plugged like a gate.

At some point, your wails are lost when the cries become increasingly lewd. You can’t help the moans that slip out of your mouth each time Osamu pushes into you. Each draw and thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your whole body. The bliss is almost enough for you to forget that you didn’t have your current burden, the pregnancy, that fetus. It’s kinda a pathetic state for you, being fucked on a table of the restaurant belonging to your fiance’s twin? And enjoying it?

This thing within you...if only it weren’t Atsumu’s but Osamu’s instead. It was a mistake all along.

The pain comes swift and overwhelming, an agonizing hell when you register the three inches of blade buried above your pubic bone, carving its way horizontally across. Your flesh parts like gauze, the skin splitting open sideways, the yellow paddings of your fat and the red that floods over.

Osamu pulls out the knife as he buries himself deeply into you, shooting his seed into the sealed-off womb. Your body shudders as the pain signals run havoc in your brain and the orgasm washes through beyond the pain. Your head tosses from side to side as empty screams fall from your throat. Shock takes over your body as more and more blood comes pouring out from your womb along with the fountain of amniotic fluids.

Osamu isn’t so much as bothered by the amount of red and clear pooling behind you and dripping onto the wood floor. He sticks his finger through the laceration and fingers through your guts, pushing the intestine aside until he finds the tear in the womb.

“Found it!” Osamu delightfully shoves his hand in, grabbing at the mass of dividing flesh and umbilical cord sustaining it. The mound is more difficult to remove than Osamu thinks, he tugs and tugs. It takes the muscles of his whole arm, the same ones carrying rice bags daily, to successfully detach placenta stuck to your womb.

The blood spurts in a flood, filling your belly cavity, painting Osamu’s shirt crimson. Your blood splatters across his legs and drips down his cock.

Osamu has never seen a full placenta like this in its glory. He has heard of people who have cooked it before. It’s the nature of a chef to be intrigued by ingredients of a rare and bizarre nature. But not today.

He drops the mounds on the floor, worse than food scraps. He clambers to the top of the table, knees straddling your body.

“I did it,” he tells your open yet empty eyes, looking for his thank you. He reaches his stained hand and caresses your faded cheek, smearing red across your skin. “I got it out for you.” He kisses your cold lips.

You don’t respond.

“‘Tsumu and I are genetically identical,” he tells your body. “You know what that means? That means the same cell that created that, I have it too.There’s no difference in biology, between his and mine.”

Osamu's hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length, the slick of blood squelching around him.

“But you didn’t want his version, huh? You wanted mine right? “ He chuckles and positions his cock against the gaping hole where your womb begins to deflate.

Your residual warmth still wraps around him, the yellow fats squishy and soft. Osamu wraps your gash around him, thrusting straight into your womb.

“Could’ve been with me, could’ve been...ours.”

Each thrust propels your body back and forth, tugged along his movements like an empty doll that's chewed and clawed broken. Fallen apart by seams, insides spilling out, completely drained. Only to be filled with Osamu’s seed, that you’ll never have a chance to foster.

#haikyuu smut #osamu x reader smut #osamu smut #yandere haikyuu #tw infidelity #tw blood #tw pregnancy #tw violence #tw noncon #tw gore #tw death #tw yandere #emi had a little nightmare and this was it LOL tweaked and added some more blood #miyacest fic is ALMOST done omg sorry it's taking forever but i can't wait to post it soon #idk looking at wips and i just really like 1) osamu with a knife 2) osamu with a knife killing y/n LOL #emi.freshtea #🍵.osamu #🍵.atsumu

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sweeethinny · 3 years

Text

Sunlit days

@velvethopewrites asked, and I took longer than I thought it would, but I wrote a Hinny kissing under the cloak.

it's not exactly smut, it's just warm kisses, but anyway, i hope you like it <3

AO3

-----

"Where are you taking me?" Ginny asked, a huge smile on her face as she let Harry - her boyfriend - guide her to who knows where, the two of them hiding under his cloak, making her even more excited.

The adrenaline of the forbidden always made her much more excited to do something. And if Harry was with her, everything was perfect.

"Can't I want to have a moment alone with you?" He asked, not even seeming to care how he sounded, he also had a huge smile on his face. Harry had seemed so much looser and freer these past few days, and Ginny loved to think it was because of her.

Of course it could be for a million other reasons, but that thought made her go to sleep smiling like an idiot.

"You're going to be late for class." They were in a hallway Ginny thought she'd never seen, but Harry seemed to recognize the place with eerie familiarity, only occasionally picking up the Map to make sure everything was empty.

“Are you worried about my grades?” He glanced over his shoulder, smiling in a way that made her blush and smile even more. Her cheeks would crack if she kept this up. 'No need to worry, I can say I was with Dumbledore, or just miss this class, it's History anyway' Harry and she reached the end of the corridor, there was nowhere else to go, there were no doors or anything nearby , and it was quiet enough for them to be comfortable. Nobody would come here.

Harry leaned against the wall, pulling Ginny close, legs spread wide enough for her to be comfortable in the middle, and she didn’t wait for him to say anything and kissed him like it had been days since they'd seen each other. And that was how she felt, at least in parts. Snape didn't take a break, and every night Harry looked tired or she was tired, and they just sat together in the common room for a few minutes before going to sleep. Hermione also didn't let her forget about the exams, just as Demelza seemed to make a point of reminding her whenever she and Harry started to get too distracted in some empty hallway in the library.

"I missed you," she said, grabbing his face and attacking his lips again, almost melting at the feel of his hands on her hips, keeping her where he wanted her, and for once Ginny didn't care.

Michael and she weren't all that evolved to exchange more than quick kisses, and as much as Dean sometimes did like Harry too - his hands on her hips - it never felt comfortable enough or hot, it was always weird, like they didn't fit right. But not with Harry, with him it was nice, comfortable, and she loved when he did that.

“Thought I saw you for breakfast?” He bit her lip, then began that trail of kisses that made her feel hot and forced her to clench her thighs together. His soft mouth moved down her chin, then under her ear, over her neck, over her collarbone… Ginny gasped.

She tightened her hands on his shoulders, just because she needed some support so her limp legs wouldn't make her fall like jelly. Ginny didn't even remember anymore what she had said and what Harry had replied, all so confused in her cloud of heat that she was almost blind to anything but her amazing boyfriend.

'Aren't you going to take your cloak off?'She managed to ask, starting to feel warm from the lack of air circulation, but it was also a good excuse to let Harry unbutton the top buttons of her shirt, and she did the same with his.

'Let me live my fantasy, I've dreamed of it.' Harry mumbled against her skin, his mouth that had been so close to her breasts began to rise again, and Ginny needed a second to deal with the frustration that she felt, soon being filled with desire as she felt him moving one of his hands up inside her shirt.

"Don't say you dreamed with me if you don't want me to attack you right here," Ginny said, her hands inside his shirt, scratching at his abdomen only to feel him shiver and take a deep breath down her neck.

"I'm not telling you not to do this, feel free." He bit into the sensitive skin that made Ginny whimper and try to pull her body away more by instinct than will, that heat building between her legs.

Harry made her land in the clouds, much lighter than when she flew as high as she could, while making her feel that delicious drop that left her heart pounding and her legs limp. He made her feel so many things that Ginny wondered how she had lived so long without knowing she was capable of feeling it.

Like when he saves her a piece of cake for breakfast, or a piece of meat pie for dinner, just because he knows Ginny likes it, and it makes her stomach churn and her throat feel tender as if suddenly, she was going to cry with joy, because she never got to tell him that, Harry just realized, and Ginny comes from a family with too many siblings for someone to notice little details about her.

“As much as I like the cloak idea,” she says, kissing him as if her life depended on it, his thigh between her legs and his left hand cupping her breast. “I'm getting too hot to be pleasant.” Ginny moves her hips just enough to gain that necessary friction that makes her go limp again.

Harry laughs, seeming to notice that she has started to sweat and now for other reasons, so he takes the cloak off them, and the icy wind hits Ginny at once and makes her shiver and lean closer to Harry, like a way to protect herself from the temperature difference. The movement made her feel him on her thigh, and Harry seemed to feel the simple touch as well, because he gasped and pulled his mouth away from hers.

They shouldn't be making out like that in a hallway, now that she was ready to assess the situation. Before at least they were invisible, and now anyone can see Harry groping her breasts and Ginny using his thigh for self-relief. She should feel embarrassed, or at least worry and tell them to find a room, or stop it before someone misses them both and puts the puzzle together to understand why they're gone. Ginny knows that people love to talk about Harry's life, and her love life, and that everyone thinks it's absurd that she dated two boys, so being seen in a hallway like that isn't the best option for her.

But Harry squeezes her hip with his free hand and pulls her forward again, and they're so close to each other, and his hand is warm and soft, and he managed to get his hand inside her bra, and the feeling of having Harry touching her nipples is otherworldly, and the feeling of his thigh creating friction where she needs it most feels so good, and the noises he makes… Ginny can't really think.

The sun is streaming in through a nearby window, and soon that sudden cold is gone and Ginny feels warm again, and she is on a mission to kiss Harry with all the will she has inside, and he seems to be on the same mission that she..

He even makes her forget all the reasons that should keep her from doing what she's doing now, and forget that the last time she made out with a boy in a hallway her brother caught them.

Harry took her to a dimension that is theirs alone and no one can touch or interrupt them, and Ginny thinks that even if she came to her senses now and walked away from him, she wouldn't be able to think for a few more hours, numb at how good it felt the combination of everything he was doing.

For a few seconds she even thought about taking his hand off her hip and putting it between her legs, just because Ginny wants to know what it would be like to have his fingers there, and because she's dreamed about it enough times now and her imagination is no longer enough and neither are her fingers themselves. She's very close to realizing this fantasy, she even puts her hand on top of his, but they hear voices and footsteps and Ginny jumps back in alarm, feeling her heart racing and her bleary eyes barely focusing on Harry's face.

He has rosy cheeks, crooked glasses and her lipstick is smeared across his face, it's a lovely sight indeed, but by the time the voices fade away and the hallway is silent again, Ginny still keeps a little distance, looking at him and taking a deep breath, trying to get back to Earth, as much as the paradise he takes her to is much, much, more inviting.

"Wow," Harry is the first to say, seeming to notice the mess she is in, shirt unbuttoned to her navel, bra bared, skirt crooked and cheeks on fire.

"Yeah." Ginny blinks, still dizzy. Harry isn't all that different from her, and maybe she should apply some less red lipstick next time because Harry looks like a clown with his mouth all smeared like that. She doesn't usually wear lipstick, but she wanted to impress Harry, and he seemed to have liked the choice when he found her coming out of the bathroom.

'Do you think we still have some time before they realize we're gone?'She asks, straightening her shirt and skirt, trying to draw Harry's attention away, as Ginny feels a bit suffocated the more she looks into his green eyes, the more dark now and with that mischievous glow she loves knowing it's her fault.

'I'm sure so,' Harry starts to adjust himself as well, and when the two of them look presentable again - although his lips are still a little smudged - Ginny reaches for him and pulls him close, and starts doing the way back, however much she has nowhere in mind.

'I need some fresh air,' she says, feeling her skin heat up even more, not because she feels embarrassed but because the memory makes her feel cloudy again, and Ginny doesn't want any girl to realize she's like this for something that did with Harry, she doesn't want them to imagine what he is like at these times. It's something so silly and irrational, but it lives in the back of her mind.

“You will be my cause of death, I'm serious.” He mutters, his cheeks also rosy, seeming to be far away.

“Me?” Ginny uses her best voice, wanting to make him laugh and deny it – and she succeeds.

'Yes you.' Harry puts his arm around her waist keeping her close to him, and the two head towards the gardens, there aren't many students around at least, and they don't need to walk to the farthest part to be able to stay in peace together. Harry lies down on her legs, Ginny leaning against a tree, the fresh air soothes the heat off her skin and makes her think rationally.

She smiles at him. "Should I be sad about it?"

"No." Harry smiles, that carefree smile that makes her feel so good knowing he's happy.

''Great, because you're going to be my cause.'' She closes her eyes, laying her head back and listening to him laugh. Ginny thinks she has never been happier.

#hinny #harry x ginny #sunlit days #missing moments half blood prince #hinny missing moments

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obeymeluv · 4 years

Text

Random Lipstick Headcanons

I like red lipsticks and I like wearing lipstick when I want to feel like a bad bitch. Or when life’s being a badder bitch than me. I can at least struggle pretty ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This is the bros reactions to you wearing a very complimentary, alluring lip color. Or power lip color. I don’t know what to call it. I guess this is gender neutral? I’m not trying to mention gender specifically.

They TOTALLYYYYY have a crush on you at this point. They just haven’t owned up to it. May take a crack at writing a second part for the Undateables. I’m at chapter 21/22 and feel like they’re not really mentioned :/. Not enough for me to really know what they’re like.

Lucifer

Is very surprised to see you wearing lipstick. In fact...it’s the first time, isn’t it?

His heart stutters, almost as if the color scares him.

It doesn’t. It excites him. More than he imagines. There’s something about the pop of color that draws his eyes in immediately, like a moth to a flame

Or so he thinks. Lucifer thinks that sounds nicer. In truth, it’s like a magnet trying to drag him closer. Your lips are just suddenly...very enticing. He’s thought about kissing you a few times before now but he certainly doesn’t want to feel his resolve crumble because of some color!

And yet, it is the essence of beauty itself. He feels as if you should be immortalized in a painting. You exude a classic kind of charm that makes his dusty heart squeeze.

He’s a bit behind on human fancies, but is this an attempt at courtship?! You certainly have his attention!

Mammon

WOAH, WHAT’S THIS? WHY YOU BEING ALL FANCY, HUMAN?!

It doesn’t even have to be a glossy lip. No matter how tsundere Mammon acts, he’s INCREDIBLY perceptive when it comes to you. He notices the minutest of changes.

THIS IS A BIG CHANGE! IT’S BASICALLY A BEACON!

Your new lip color makes you a cool, shiny thing and Mammon LOVES shiny things.

He’s gonna be stealing so many glances!

You don’t even have to be trying for a sexy vibe to be sexy in Mammon’s eyes. You take his breath away with this lip color. He just---boy has to turn around and bite his lip.

His heart’s doing stuff it hasn’t done in centuries and oh baby, he wants that lip color all over him!

Will either act like you wearing lipstick is nothing special (like he doesn’t notice) or goes into mild interrogation mode. It’s not for some other demon, right?!

Wants to touch your lips and see what it feels like, but doesn’t.

Might try to drag you along to be a makeup rep for one of his photoshoots. Then you can try on lots of lipsticks and pose with him. They can do a kiss photo for swatches, right? Prove it’s transfer-proof or something?

His attention’s on you AAALLLLL day--especially your lips

If he notices it’s smudged, he’ll try to wipe it away or fix it with his finger. Might almost out himself with how gently he does so.

Levi

He’s no stranger to watching people do makeup--he’s a big fan of cosplay makeup and body paint transformation

There’s just...something different about when you do it. He tries to tell himself it’s because you live with him, but that doesn’t feel quite right

His eyes light up when he sees the way the color compliments your skin. It makes your eyes twinkle but he’s really focused on your lips

It wakes up something ancient and irrational in him; he wants to give you a pretty shell or rock for some reason??

He just gets all excited and wiggly. Even his tail wants to wiggle!

You’re just pretty, okay?! Not that you’re gonna know, dummy!

Subconsciously, he thinks it reminds him of beautiful, vivid scales. Then that sends him down a rabbit hole of how pretty you’d look if you had scales

In general, I headcanon that Levi can see the slightest differences in colors. He and Asmo are basically tied in this, and they far outpace the other brothers.

He’d be extra stoked if the color is from the blue or purple family because those can be hard to pull off but they often make really good looks

Being Levi, he can’t outright compliment you. He’ll just say ‘it’s probably good for a normie human lipstick, but have you seen THESE?!’ and shows you some of the flashier Devildom ones

HE SHOWS YOU A BUNCH AND GOD HE HOPES YOU GET AT LEAST ONE BECAUSE HE WANTS YOU TO WEAR IT! DON’T THINK HE’S WEIRD BECAUSE HE SAVED MAKEUP, OKAY?!

Get one with a slight shimmer or color change. Or better yet, do a gradient!

Levi would absolutely explode if you wore his colors!

If you do a TSL-inspired look, he’s going to die. And have dreams of you saying sweet things to him, the yucky otaku, with your pretty, pretty lips

Satan

Much like Lucifer, he’d want to wax poetic about how the lip color gives you an enchanting aura

Quite stricken, very flustered. He can hardly muster a witty remark.

Satan is basically grasping at straws and hoping his usual cool, toothy grin hides the fact that he’s ready to blush himself straight into a sunburn

Mild teasing, all of it good natured. He’ll pepper in comparisons to Helen of Troy or historical figures that resemble you. It’s mostly to see you blush, but it’s his way of saying it indirectly

He hasn’t quite come to terms with how much he likes you yet but he knows when he sees that lip color, he wants to smear it all over your cheeks and down your chin.

The idea of making a mess of something so pretty and carefully crafted just really gets his blood going. It’s a wicked thing, isn’t it? Symbolism for a demon corrupting a human? You could be his pretty human, yes.

If he wants to think or make a coherent sentence, he can’t look at you when you’re wearing lipstick

Subtly moves one of the books from a nearby stack into his lap because boy has a boner.

If you decide not to hang around or get pulled away by one of his brothers, Satan will disappear to indulge his fantasies of you wrapping those pretty lips around his cock. He’s not even mad about it. Not in the moment; he feels bad a few days later.

Asmo

His darling human is spreading their little beauty wings? Oh be still his beating heart!

He’s the first to compliment you and actually takes an analytical approach before the idea of genuine compliments pop up in his head. It’ll take him an hour or two to start getting a little flustered by you ‘dressing up’ and silently tormenting himself with ‘Is it for me? Is it for someone else?!’

Asmo can’t help but coo over how well you know your color wheel and how you match your undertones

The type to hold your face in his hands and pat your cheeks or squeeze them a little

Teases you about making lipstick swatches on his lips or his arms (”Or, you know, wherever. You can kiss me anywhere you like!”)

Wants to drag you away and see if any of his colors will look good on you

You will soon have a matching lip color! He’ll make sure of it!

BEGS you to let him swatch his lip colors on you, or apply them. He’ll make sure to take care of your lips in between--a lip mask, exfoliation, the works! (”I’ll even kiss them for you!”)

He wants you to try on all his lip colors because he wants to memorize how breath-taking you look in all the colors. Even if it’s platonic with some lusty teasing, Asmo has a genuine love for bringing beauty to people

In some ways, it makes his heart ache. It reminds him of when he was Heaven’s Jewel.

But now he’s here in the Devildom, and he doesn’t really regret it because he met you. You can be his jewel now, and maybe he can be yours. Maybe it all starts with some lipstick, hm?

Beel

He notices it but doesn’t really get the significance of it

Is there a reason? Is it for an event? Is this a dominance thing? An attraction thing?

Demon can see from a great distance, far greater than humans, and there’s a chance he sees you before you see him

In all honesty, he probably thinks you have something on your lips, like a sauce or something

It isn’t until you get closer that he realizes it’s some kind of lip product

If you’re happy, he’s happy

You always look cute but this color seems to make you happy and it gives you this bouncy glow about you. That makes Beel all warm inside, to the point where he wants to purr.

Sometimes when he gets really excited his wings want to buzz. They kind of want to buzz.

Doesn’t mean to, but can’t stop staring at your lips. It’s a color he’s not used to seeing on you and his brain recognizes that change

Wouldn’t be against you kissing him. What? It might transfer? He gets food and crumbs all over his face on the regular so it’s not a big deal.

You might be shy about it? Don’t want him to get teased? Well...you can always practice. You know, somewhere he can hide it. Just to test it, that is.

KISS HIS STOMACH! He’d be so damn close to a nut Beel would have to bite his own tongue or shove something in his mouth before you do it

Would wear your little kiss marks like a badge of pride so slap ‘em on wherever you want!

“Do they have orange lipsticks?” he asks. Blushes deeply immediately, not realizing he actually said it out loud. You should try one of those, he thinks. You know, because that’s his color and it’ll match his nails. He thinks that’d be neat.

Just wants you to kiss all over his chest and stomach.

Belphegor

Wary of the lipstick. Doesn’t trust it

Looks like a nightmare for his pillows. Paranoid about you getting it on his sheets

If he’s half asleep and notices it, the color change will jolt him awake long enough to really observe it

“For me?” he teases as he rolls over or pull himself from under covers and pillows to really look at you

It’s pretty, for sure, but you’re not coming anywhere near his bed unless you can prove it’s not coming off on fabric!

What’s that? You can?

Belphie probably says something sarcastic and mildly asshole-ish but you defend your precious lip product, talking about human reviews and tests and things. “People have kissed their boyfriends and girlfriends on camera! It works!”

He makes you kiss your arm (he’s a fucking idiot, should’ve asked you to kiss HIS arm) to prove it won’t rub off before he lets you rest on his bed with him

Snuggles into you like he always does, playing with your hair just the tiniest bit.

Belphie hopes it’s subtle but he’s slowing twining and inching his fingers closer to your face. Your lip color is almost mythical and he kind of wants to touch it after all the fuss he made.

Does it make your lips feel different? They look different. Would it react differently to demon skin?

Will tell you it looks nice and that you look pretty but if you ask him about it later, he totally denies it. Insists he must’ve been talking in his sleep

He dreams of you kissing him awake or kissing him to sleep with gentle cuddles and pretty lips

#Obey me!#Obey me! x reader #Lucifer x reader #Mammon x reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Beel x Reader #Levi x reader #Leviathan x reader #Asmo x reader #Asmodeus x reader #Satan x Reader #Belphegor x reader

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mqgriett · 3 years

Text

Tech- Princess

Request: hello darling, i saw you were taking requests (it’s okay if you aren’t anymore, just disregard the rest of this) and I was wondering if you’d be able to write something for Tech? I’m absolutely starving for content surrounding him and I’d take literally any crumb you’d be willing to spare🥺 prompt/genre is totally up to you! @bandaid-bunny

Pairings: Tech x Fem!Reader

Warnings: small mention of death (very very minor, like a sentence)

Summary: you left the Jedi Order a year ago, which meant also leaving the Bad Batch. Tech’s feelings for you never faded, and neither did yours for him.

Notes: I really want to write a part 2 to this!! Please lmk if y’all would want a second part!!

Tech adjusted his tie for the fifth time, looking at himself in the reflection of the silver elevator. He licked his hand, smoothing back any stray hairs on top of his head.

“Nervous much?” Hunter muttered next to his brother.

Tech shook his head, “of course not. Why would I be?”

“Because this is the first time you’re seeing her in a whole year.” Crosshair replied, a smug smile on his face as he crossed his hands over his lap.

“And why would that make me nervous?” Tech scoffed, rolling his eyes and straightening the cuffs of his suit. The collar of his dress shirt felt increasingly tight and he pulled on, further giving his brother more of a reason to tease him.

“Last time you saw her you couldn’t talk right!” Wrecker slapped him on the back, making Tech choke on his own spit.

“That-”, cough, “is-”, another cough, “not true.” He finally caught his breath and repeated his sentence a little clearer. “That isn’t true.”

“Really?” Crosshair raised an eyebrow and turned to Hunter, who was giving Tech the same look.

Sarg intertwined his fingers, bringing his fist to the side of his face and making his voice a few octaves higher to mock Tech, “You look especially beautiful in the night time, it hides all of your imperfections. No- it highlights your imperfections. No- you have no imperfections in the night time. No- you’re perfect”

Tech crossed his arms, his cheeks glowing a shade of bright red as Hunter reenacted the scene from a year ago.

“We’re here for a surveillance operation, that’s all.” he swallowed the ball in his throat, “I might not even get the opportunity to speak with her, so I have no reason to be nervous.”

The quiet ding of the elevator reaching the top floor was his saving grace. Tech was the first one off and he automatically began to scan the crowded room for any sign of you. As Wrecker walked behind his brother he whispered, “surveillance operation.” He nodded and followed the rest of the Bad Batch, eyes still searching for any sign of you.

“Sarg, good to see you.” said Cody’s strong tone of voice, catching Tech’s attention again.

“Same to you, Commander.” Hunter replied, giving the 212th trooper a strong handshake. Cody pointed out that the Bad Batch and 212th were allowed to have fun that night, and that they were only to interfere with anything if it was a threat to the princess’s life. He pointed to the other troopers that had accompanied him that night. The majority of the 212th attack battalion dotted the ball room.

There was no sign of you after roughly twenty minutes, allowing Tech to ease up a little bit. Crosshair returned from the bar, standing next to his brother and handing him a medium sized glass with a small amount of black liquid. Although he wasn’t much of a drinker, Tech downed the shot within seconds of having it in his grasp.

***

“Nervous much?” Padme asked, watching from the corner of your room as you adjusted the front of your corset for the fifth time.

You ignored her snarky comment, continuing to speak your thoughts out loud, “Out of all the squadrons he could have asked, of course he chooses 99.”

“You’re going to smudge your makeup if you keep pacing and sweating like that.” she replied, walking to your side. “And, who knows? Maybe he’s not here.”

“Hunt- The Sergeant, doesn’t go anywhere without him. He’s here.” you answered, taking a loud breath in to calm yourself. “It’s been at least a year. Last time I saw him I was allowed to go on missions and hold a weapon that’s bigger than my palm.”

You reached behind yourself and started to undo the corset, “Now I need to go and sit in meetings, sit like a lady, smile and nod, and be pretty. That’s all… Could you re-tie this for me? The seamstress made it so I couldn’t breathe.” You motioned to the strings of the corset.

“How about you wear that blue dress, you liked that one.” Padme suggested, trying her best to get you into a better mood.

You sighed, “alright.”

As you walked back to your closet, Padme spoke behind you, “if you look on the bright side, attachments are no longer forbidden for you.”

It genuinely made both of you laugh, lifting your spirits a little as you unhooked the blue dress from its hanger. “maybe embrace that he’s here. You no longer need to follow the code, make the best of it.”

She was right, the Jedi code no longer applied to you.

About a year ago, when your sister had passed, it left you to take the throne of Alderaan as Princess. Your father, Bail Organa, was a senator and your mother, Breha Organa, was Queen. Someone needed to help her govern the planet, which led to you leaving the Jedi order and fulfill your duties as the only living legacy of your parents.

It was a difficult decision to make, and tonight would lock it in. The majority of Senators were here, including a few other monarchs. Last time you had seen the bulk of them you were still a Jedi Knight, now you were Princess of Alderaan.

This party was risky to throw, but it had already been postponed many times before. There was a small window to celebrate the new princess, which is no-doubt why the Bad Batch was called in. Majority of the troopers were on missions, and if the party was to be short on guards then it needed the strongest battalion available, Clone Force 99.

It was already twenty minutes into the celebration, and you had five minutes prepare to see them again. Last time you five were together it was a special operations mission, you were a Jedi and they were your designated clone battalion. Now you were tasked with pretending to be someone else, a princess.

You tugged your dress on and allowed Padme to lace the back up, it was time.

***

A loud sound of trumpets echoed through the room, quickly drawing everyone’s attention. The lights dimmed everywhere except the grand balcony with a staircase leading down to the main floor.

Tech followed the voice of the announcer, who seemed to be invisible among the huge crowd. “It is with great pleasure that I welcome the Queen and the new Princess of Alderaan.” he said obstreperously.

Queen Breha walked with grace down the steps, waving as she descended.

Next came the princess, her gold-accented, sleek, pastel blue dress shining in the light beautiful. Tech’s heart raced as he saw you, his glass slipping from his grip. He had nearly forgotten how beautiful you were, and the way you quickly walked down each stair nearly made him faint. The expensive glassware would have broken if it weren’t for Hunter’s quick reflexes.

The only other time he had witnessed the sight of you in a dress was during an undercover op, other than that you were frequently in your robes. Maker, you were breathtaking in that gown. He was going mad and you were still across the room.

You turned over your shoulder, automatically scanning the crowd for any signs of the Bad Batch. It seemed that every free moment you had was interrupted by a Senator or distant relative congratulating you on your new status. So, you smiled and made small talk, a tiny headache beginning to creep up on you.

As you thanked Senator Clovis for coming, a strong hand touched the small of your back. “Need a break?” Hunter asked behind you.

In that moment you could have cried at the sound of his voice. You were so overwhelmed and tired, wanting to collapse every time you needed to start a new conversation with someone. As you turned, you straightened your back, “Sergeant.” You gave him a curt nod, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

Hunter raised his eyebrow, waiting a moment before hooking his arm within your own. “Since when do you call me Sergeant?” he mused, beginning to lead you over to the edge of the ballroom.

You were well out of earshot of anyone important now, and your whole demeanor changed. You let out a breath of air and slouched, letting your legs rest a shoulder-width apart. “You have no clue how happy I am to see you.”

“Right back at you Command- Princess.” he said, letting go of your arm.

“Don’t call me that, for maker’s sake.” you pleaded, your tone genuinely sad.

He smirked, “not your thing, huh?”

You shook your head, “where’s the rest of the boys?”

“Wrecker spilled that Corellian wine on his shirt, Tech and Cross are helping him get cleaned off.” he responded with a shrug, as if it was a regular thing; on that thought, it was.

Your heart fluttered, “Tech’s here?”

Hunter chuckled deeply, combing his hair back, “he is. Why?”

You pursed your lips while narrowing your eyes, “just curious.”

Before Sarg could tease you any further, the large gold door to the men’s bathroom opened and the other three Bad Batchers stumbled back inside the room. You instinctively looked over your shoulder, your gaze catching Tech’s.

You both froze, trapped in each other's presence. He smiled, eyes sparkling in the faint light of the ballroom.

The group of three made their way to Hunter and you, Wrecker with a huge grin on his face.

Crosshair performed a dramatic bow, “m’lady.” he slid his hands into his pockets, a smug smirk on his face as he greeted you.

“I hate you,” You teased, shaking your head the smallest bit to show you disapproval.

“Hi Princess.” Wrecker didn’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug, but he soon let go once realizing that he was possibly transferring the wine stain onto your dress.

Tech wrapped his arms around your waist and whispered, “you look nice.”

You rested your chin on his shoulder, “back at you.”

Crosshair interjected, “you got something on your dress.” he twirled his long finger towards your abdomen.

Wrecker had accidentally transferred some wine on your gown. You frowned, knowing that you now had to change dresses. “Kriff,” you mumbled, secretly slightly relieved that you got to leave for a few minutes, “I’ll be back. If anyone asks, just say I’m touching up my makeup.”

As you took a step forward, Padme’s words seemed to echo in your mind. Maybe embrace that he’s here. You no longer need to follow the code, make the best of it.

You smiled, “Tech would you mind coming along? I’m not supposed to leave the room without another person.”

He looked slightly surprised at your offer, but after tripping over a few words he nodded and followed.

Tech took a deep breath once you two were alone, clenching and relaxing his fists to ease a bit of his nerves, “I missed you, we all did. Missions aren’t as fun without you.”

You grinned, “I missed you too. Everything goes by slower nowadays.”

“You don’t enjoy your new life?” He asked, eyebrows creasing to form a concerned expression. He looked around at all the gold accented treasures hidden among the castle.

“There’s no excitement. Every day is just a repeat of the last.” The elevator doors opened and you both stepped inside.

They slid shut, officially making it just the two of you. “Do you miss the Order?”

You shook your head, “Not as much as I thought I would, but I miss the adventures. I miss you.” you said the last piece quietly, hoping he didn’t hear.

But since it was Tech, and he was the most attentive person you knew, he heard. He turned to look at you, making deep eye contact, “I miss you too. Co-piloting with Crosshair isn’t as fun as it was with you. I’m not as good at calming Wrecker down as you were.”

You arrived at your floor, the doors opening again and both of you walking out. There was an awkward silence surrounding the two of you now, both wanting to say the same thing.

As you stepped foot in your room, the energy shifted a little. You motioned for Tech to make himself comfortable and made your way to the closet.

He sat at the foot of your huge bed, admiring how well-decorated it was. He turned to look at the wall his back faced, eyes wandering to your nightstand. In the middle stood a framed photograph. It was a picture that Wrecker had taken after a rough mission. You and Tech were both asleep, your head on his lap and his hand draped over your waist. He sighed and called out to you, “You know I’ve always loved you, right?”

You froze, barely finishing at pulling the peach-colored dress over your head when his voice reached your ears. By the time you had turned around, Tech was standing in the doorway of your closet.

No more Jedi Code.

You walked to him, placing a gentle hand against his cheek and kissing him. He grabbed your hand and held it, leaning forward to deepen the kiss. He had waited too long for this to end quickly, and you felt the same.

#tech x reader #badbatchxreader #clone trooper tech #clone trooper crosshair #clone trooper hunter #clone trooper wrecker #bad batch #clone force 99

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tothemeadow · 4 years

Text

Commissioned by @thermaflute

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

- Being a slayer, Kyojuro knows how wrong it is to be absolutely whipped for a demon. It’s not his own fault that you give him mind-blowing sex. -

warnings: NSFW, teasing, degradation, overstimulation, ahegao, handjobs, dom reader

words: 2k

There’s just something about saving the day and being a hero that really, really gets Kyojuro. Of course, it’s his job for gods’ sakes, but to have people looking up to him, swooning over him? There is nothing like it. So yeah, he may or may not have a hero complex. What’s the big deal? It’s not like he’s doing anything wrong.

Well… Except for the fact that he is.

Nervousness and guilt chew away at Kyojuro’s insides as he stalks towards the manor; above him, the pitch black sky twinkles with thousands of stars, all of them distant diamonds. The full moon shines bright, an iridescent yellow compared to the rest of the nighttime sky. A chorus of crickets and croaking frogs surrounds him; everything is too peaceful, too idyllic.

The first time he came to this very manor, he expected the place to be surrounded by bones, both old and new. Human heads would be perched on stakes, their mouths forever open in a silent scream. He truly anticipated the absolute worse. However, as he quickly realized, everything was the exact opposite.

He shouldn’t even be here. A demon resided here – you, specifically – and he hunted demons for a living. You’re a dangerous person with sharp teeth and even sharper claws; you can kill him in an instant if you truly wanted to, and yet you didn’t. The same could be said about Kyojuro. He’s killed so many other demons before, so it’s not an issue, but he hesitates whenever he thinks about bringing his blade down on your neck.

This is the same thought process he goes through every time he visits. He always stands right outside your door, gazes up at the mere size of the manor, and wonders just what the hell he thinks he’s doing. If anybody were to learn about his late night rendezvouses with a demon, he’s done for. Hell, he thinks Oyakata-sama might even be the one to slit his stomach.

He doesn’t even bother to wait for you as he enters the place you call home; much like the outside, the inside of the manor is impeccably clean and furnished with mahogany pieces and fine China. He can tell you’ve been collecting such magnificent furniture throughout your long lifespan; it always makes him awestruck to be surrounded by such wealth. He’s careful to take off his setta, silently setting them to the side as he steps up into your home.

His tabi-clad feet hardly make any noise as he ventures into the manor, looking for any signs of life. As far as he knows, there hasn’t been any other human to step foot inside this very manor while he was present. It’s when he’s away is the problem. You’re a demon, after all – you need as much sustenance as he does, maybe even more.

Before he fully realizes it, he’s walking the familiar trek to where your bedroom is. It’s almost second nature to him, always trying to find you. He shouldn’t be so eager to see a demon in the first place; it’s just plain wrong. This whole situation is wrong, but something about you brings him back, attracts him like a moth to a flame. The need to see you boils in his blood. He wants you to be by his side constantly. It’s only human nature, wanting to spend time with someone you’re attracted to, but this situation isn’t exactly what Kyojuro had in mind.

As he slides the door to your room open, the sight of your bare back greets him. Perched in front of a vanity, you dabble makeup onto your face; brilliant red smudges cover the outer corners of your eyes and your plush lips. Kyojuro can only guess how expensive the product must’ve been, judging by the hue alone. Your hair is entirely pinned up, revealing the entirety of your neck and shoulders. You look positively stunning, magnificent. Kyojuro’s throat goes dry.

“Hello, my darling slayer,” you say, a seductive lilt to your tone. You’ve always sounded like that – like fine wine mixed with smoke and honey. Setting your fine point brush down, your glowing eyes meet Kyojuro’s through the mirror. “How may I serve you tonight?”

Glancing down, Kyojuro is greeted by the sight of your perky breasts reflecting back at him. Licking his lips, he looks back up to your eyes. You smirk at him. “I wanted to see you,” he mutters. “You look beautiful.”

You coo at him, your fingers slipping the fine material of your kimono up and around your shoulders. Kyojuro is mildly disappointed by the lack of skin, but then you turn to him, your chest only partially covered. His brilliant gaze follows the curve of your waistline, how it seamlessly widens at your hips and turns into luscious thighs. Crossing your legs, the silk of your kimono flutters against your skin.

“You wanted to see me?” you purr. Slowly, you draw yourself to a graceful stand. Like this, your front becomes entirely bare under his eyes. “Kyojuro, you naughty boy.” You bat your eyelashes sultrily at him. “Get on the bed,” you husk, pointing a clawed finger to the oversized mattress. Like most of the furniture you own, it’s made of a deep mahogany, the frame standing on four sturdy legs and raising high to form a canopy. Delicate silks hang from the top, all a dainty white. It’s behind those very curtains that Kyojuro’s taken you many, many times.

Doing as he’s told, he removes his cape and sets it to the side before taking a seat at the end of the bed. The softness of the mattress beckons to him, calls for him to lie back and fall asleep. And, he will, eventually, if this is going where he thinks it is. You walk over to him, your long, confident strides making him stare at your legs. You slither on top of him, straddling his waist and linking your hands together over his shoulders. Kyojuro inhales sharply, the scent of your perfume intoxicating.

“And why did you want to see me?” you say, dragging a finger over the sharp line of his jaw. Kyojuro trembles beneath your touch; your index taps against his lower lip, a knowing expression growing on your face. “Is the big bad Flame Pillar falling for me?” you purr.

The way you flutter your lashes causes something inside of Kyojuro to snap. Instead of answering your question, his lips land on yours in pure desperation. The kiss is heated from the start; you quickly worm your tongue inside his mouth, licking up against the roof of it and Kyojuro lets you. He lets you do anything you want every time he sees you because he simply cannot get enough.

You swallow his soft groan as your hands travel down his chest, making quick work of unbuttoning his uniform’s jacket and his shirt underneath. Kyojuro’s skin has always been deliriously warm, beautifully bronzed and freckled by the sun. He sighs under your touch; it quickly turns into a slight whimper as you pull at his nipple. Your teeth tug at his bottom lip as you continuously feel up his chest, your hips gradually working into a steady rhythm against his hardening cock. He’s always been easy to work up, but with you, every single ounce of self-control he possesses flies right out the window.

“Dirty whore,” you murmur, drawing your lips away from him. “Coming back again and again to a demon. What would the others say, huh? What would they say if they could see you now? They’d see me full of your cock, fucking you stupid. You’re so bad, you filthy slut. They could kill you for this.”

At your words, a throaty groan bubbles from Kyojuro’s chest. He knows you’re absolutely right, but that’s what’s good about this whole thing. If his fellow slayers could see him getting so thoroughly used by a demon, he wouldn’t live to see another day. He grunts as you press him to his back, your luscious breasts pushing against his muscular chest. His cock tents through his hakama, the cloth growing wet from both his precum and the slick dripping from your cunt.

“Let them do whatever,” Kyojuro pants. “You’re the – fuck – one that I want.”

You mewl at his words, your sharp nails scratching at his skin. “Is that a confession? Does my little slut love me?” You laugh at the whole ridiculousness of a slayer falling in love with a demon. You move down his chest, your lips running over the ridges of his muscles and leaving stains of red all over his skin.

Kyojuro chokes on a groan as you palm him through his clothes. Ripping his belt off, you make quick work of yanking down his pants and undergarments. His cock kicks and slaps against his stomach, the head an angry red and leaking precum. Your gaze hungrily takes in the protruding veins, the neat thatch of dark pubic hair. He looks absolutely delicious.

“Tell me, Kyojuro,” you bite, your fingers wrapping around his thick cock, “do you love me?”

He doesn’t want to say. He shouldn’t say it, save himself from the impending embarrassment, but then you twist your wrist and fuck does it do something magical to him. “Y-yes,” he stutters, tongue flicking out nervously. “You’re so – shit, ah – wonderful and I really, really like being with you!” He keens as your other hand gently fondles his balls.

“Is that your dick talking?” you taunt. “Are you saying that because you’re a filthy whore?”

Kyojuro furiously shakes his head. His face has well surpassed red, his lips turning swollen from how much he’s chewing on them. “Even when we’re not fucking! Gods, (y/n), I love you!” He cries out as he abruptly cums, thick ropes of white shooting onto his stomach and your fingers. He pants from the force of it; his eyes widen, then, and realizes that he just came immaturely.

You click your tongue. “You got off on that?” Despite your annoyance, Kyojuro can hear the lust laced in your words.

“Yeah…” A punched-out breath fills the air as you swiftly lower your pussy onto his cock. Kyojuro’s hands make a desperate reach for your hips, but you quickly take hold of his wrists and pin them by his sides.

“So what, I don’t get to have any fun?” You flash him a mock pout. “Come on, love, show me what you got.”

Hearing the endearment roll off your tongue has Kyojuro’s cock stirring to life back inside you. Swiveling your hips, you mouth at the underside of his jaw, your teeth just barely scraping against the tender flesh. You set a steady pace, barely giving him any time to breathe while you bounce on his cock. His hips buck frantically to match your relentless pace; he whimpers from overstimulation, but fuck your cunt is so hot and wet and he feels like he’s going to explode.

“Oh, gods, please, please,” he babbles, his tongue trying to collect whatever saliva spills from his mouth. You’re fucking him so good that he’s seeing stars. He can’t control the way how his eyes roll into the back of his head or how his tongue sticks out in pure, unadulterated pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good-“

“Am I fucking you stupid?” you ask him. Arching your back even further, your breasts drag against his torso. “Look at your pathetic face. You really are a slut, you know that? With a body like yours, it’s no wonder you bend over for anybody.”

In his euphoric state, Kyojuro shakes his head. “No, no, only for you, I promise,” he rambles. He moans loudly as the head of his cock pushes in even deeper and slams right into your cervix.

Your velvety walls suck him in with every stroke, desperate to have him inside and fuck you silly. “Who’s fucking you so good, Kyojuro.”

He groans. “You are…”

You clench even harder around his cock. “I said who.”

“You are!” he yelps, kicking his head back and spraying his cum all over your insides. You ride him through his orgasm, delighted in the way his cum seeps out around his cock and spills onto the both of you.

“That’s my good little slut,” you purr. Letting go of his wrists, you press open-mouthed kisses all over his sweaty chest. “Now make me cum, love.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro rengoku #kny kyojuro #commission #thermaflute

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themandhoelorian · 4 years

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Dincember - November 30: Snow

summary: Din’s determined to make your stay on this miserable ice planet as short as possible, but you and the kid don’t mind taking your time in the snow.

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

warnings: angst that quickly becomes fluff, episode 10 spoilers, the smallest bit of canon-typical violence, some swearing?, the cute little green dude, Din is Soft for you uwu

word count: 3.1k

a/n: ahhh hi welcome to my first fanfiction ever!! I’m excited and very very nervous about posting this, but I've been wanting to write my tin can husband for a while and thought dincember might just be the push I needed to start. part of me hopes I’m just screaming into the void, but if you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy it! happy dincember y’all <3

***

Din doesn’t like snow.

It’s cold and wet and irritating and it creates a layer of frost on his armor that leaves stubborn smudges on the beskar even after he’s dried off. It’s a practical nightmare that Din quite frankly doesn’t have the patience to deal with, but the snow itself isn’t even what bothers him most.

It’s the planets that are covered in it that he really can’t stand.

Din’s been on his fair share of ice planets, and not once has he found something appealing among the white plains, just deadly ravinaks and mindless criminals and giant ice spiders. If he had his choice, he would never step foot on one again.

He’s not sure why any reasonable person would want to either.

So when he hears you gasp from the copilot seat as the frosty white orb comes into view, he assumes that it’s because you’re dreading having to land on this ice planet too.

He knows this is what he hired you for, to follow him wherever he needed to go and take care of the child, but he can’t help but feel a little bad that he’s brought you to yet another dreadful planet. Whenever the three of you land somewhere dangerous, which recently has been more often than not, he insists that you and the child stay on the Crest so he knows you’ll be safe. You never complain, always complying to his requests with a shy smile and dutifully looking after the child, but he can tell you’re growing weary of being holed up in the ship all the time.

Your eyes don’t sparkle like they used to, the way they did when you first joined his crew and you would break into a dazzling grin every time you landed on a new planet.

You don’t talk to the kid in excited whispers anymore as you teach him about the forests or the oceans or the sand, giggling as you bring his little green fingers to the ground and let him feel the difference in the landscapes.

Din’s afraid he’s killed the wonder traveling with him used to bring you, he’s afraid he’s ruined it for the kid too, and Maker, he wishes he could see your face light up the way it used to. He wishes he could see you and the kid overwhelmingly happy again.

But here he is, leaving you both stuck in the middle of a frozen wasteland for what’s sure to be a less than happy few hours while he goes off to find another bounty. He wants to apologize before he leaves, but he can’t seem to find the words for how kriffing bad he feels. Even if he did, he knows you would just brush it off anyways, offer him that sweet smile that makes his face heat up and assure him that the two of you would be just fine on the ship.

So instead, he instructs you to keep the ship running, to stay warm and be ready to take off as soon as he gets back, before he hurries off into the dense swathes of snow. He doesn’t even tell you to stay on the Crest, in too much of a rush to leave before your dewy eyes can convince him to forget the quarry and take you somewhere nicer.

He’s halfway to the location when he realizes it, but he figures there’s no use turning back to remind you when he’s sure you wouldn’t want to go outside, not when white flakes are starting to dust the already cold air.

Besides, he’s determined to make your stay on this planet as short as possible anyway.

Luckily, the target’s in the first cantina Din steps into and doesn’t put up a fight. Well, he tries, but the dumb sucker thinks he can just run, and he doesn’t get more than a few meters out the door before Din shoots him through the chest.

Usually, Din would scoff at a quarry that slow, but this time, as he ties up the body, he’s just grateful that the target’s lack of mental and physical prowess means he can get you all off this planet that much sooner.

In fact, it’s only been a few hours since he first left, and as he makes his way back to the Crest, Din assumes he’ll find you right where he left you. You probably haven’t even put the kid down for a nap yet, and he’s almost proud of himself for making the turnaround so fast. He may have brought you to this awful place, but at least he’s making sure you barely have to spend any time on it.

He almost doesn’t feel bad anymore, almost tells himself it’s okay that he left you and the child stranded on the ship again, but then he approaches the Crest and realizes things aren’t exactly as he left them.

The first thing he notices is that the hull door is open. He’s almost certain he remembered to close it, even in his rush to leave, but even if he didn’t, he’s sure you would’ve shut it for him.

But then again, you’d been in the cockpit when he left, so maybe you had just stayed there and didn’t realize the door was still open. That would make sense.

When he gets a little closer though, he realizes he can’t hear the hum of the engine and that the headlights have been turned off. That he can’t explain. He told you to keep the ship running, and you’ve always followed his instructions. If nothing else, surely you’d want to keep the heater going in this weather. He can’t think of any reason why the Crest shouldn’t be running right now, unless something happened to you and-

No. No, that’s not possible.

He always engages ground security before he leaves. There’s no way anything could’ve gotten onto the ship. But he was in a rush this time, and he’s not even 100 percent positive he closed the hull door, and kriff, did he really mess up that badly?

Not only did he make you wait on this stupid ice planet, but he also left you and the kid vulnerable to whatever dangers lurk in its snow covered hills because he forgot to secure the ship?

Maker, now he really feels bad for bringing you here.

Before he knows it, Din is sprinting towards the Crest, leaving the quarry’s body behind so he can move faster through the snow. He starts heading up the ramp, ready to scope out the ship, but then he hears faint laughter coming from the other side of the hull. He freezes at the noise, his body tensing as the edges of his vision go red.

Apparently ice planets make for stupid criminals, Din thinks, because between the quarry he just picked up and whoever the hell is gloating right outside the scene of their crime right now, he’s sure he’s never encountered so many witless assholes in one place. He’s almost glad for it though. At least he’ll be able to put a bolt through the little frozen brain of whoever had the gall to raid his ship and mess with his crew.

He draws his blaster and paces towards the back of the ship, making sure his steps are silent now that the laughter has stopped. He takes a breath before darting out from behind the Crest, blaster raised, finger on the trigger, but he doesn’t find the thief that he’s looking to shoot there.

He just finds you lying on the frozen ground, making faces at the child as you support him on your stomach.

At first, Din is just relieved to see the two of you seemingly unharmed, but the comfort he feels quickly morphs into confusion. He wonders if something happened to the ship that forced the two of you outside, but then the child swats at your face and you giggle, the sound so pure and carefree that he knows nothing’s wrong.

No, you just decided to drag the kid out into the cold for fun.

He sighs and lowers his blaster as he watches the two of you, too caught up in whatever game you’re playing to notice his presence. Maker, maybe ice planets really do make people dumber, the snowflakes fogging up your head the way it does his visor, because he knows if you were in your right mind you wouldn’t have taken the kid out into the snow, and you definitely wouldn’t be lying with him in the ice, completely exposed to anyone passing by.

“I thought I told you to keep the ship running,” he barks.

You sit up abruptly at the sudden noise, pulling the child instinctively to your chest as you whip your head in his direction. Panic flashes across your eyes for a second, but when you realize it’s just him, it melts into a sigh as you offer him a small smile.

“Oh. Mando. Hi, we were just...”

But then the kid sees that Din’s returned and coos loudly, trying to squirm out of your arms so you’ll let him down. You oblige, placing him gently on the soft ground, and he waddles over to Din with his tiny arms outstretched.

Din picks him up, and the child bubbles with excitement as he positions the little womp rat in the crook of his arm. Din studies him, searching for any signs of distress, but he finds none, just big eyes shining with nothing but glee.

That’s strange. He was sure the kid would hate snow after what happened last time.

He snaps out of his train of thought when you make your way towards him, brushing ice off your shoulders and back.

“Sorry, he was getting a little antsy when it started snowing, so I thought he might’ve wanted to play outside for a little bit,” you explain. “I didn’t want to leave the engine running while we were out here, and I thought we’d have enough time to get everything going again before you got back.”

You’re right in front of him now, so close he can see the small crystals of ice that dot your hair. For a second, he forgets himself, consumed by how breathtaking you look against the icy landscape, and it’s only when the child shifts in his arms that Din catches himself, remembering that he’s supposed to be mad at you for not following his instructions.

“Wasn’t he scared of it?” he demands.

You shake your head, looking down at the child and running a thumb along his ear.

“He seemed a little nervous at first, but I got him to warm up to it pretty quickly. We were just about to head inside, but he wanted to stay out here a little longer, isn’t that right bubs?”

The child hums contentedly as if to agree with you, shifting his gaze between your face and the helmet, but Din keeps his eyes trained on you, trying to figure out how you could’ve gotten the kid to like the snow so easily. The encounter on Maldo Kreis had left him wary of any icy terrain, he can’t imagine what it must have done to the innocent child, but somehow here he is, looking as happy as he’s ever been playing with you in the frost.

He must have been staring at you for too long because before he can put his finger on how you were able to change the kid’s mind, your face is twisting with worry and you’re starting to apologize again.

“I know we probably should’ve stayed on the ship, but I…” you hesitate before giving him a sheepish grin. “Playing in the snow was one of my favorite things when I was little, and I wanted him to know what it was like too.”

Din should be mad at you. You didn’t do the one thing he asked, and you could’ve put yourself and the kid in danger by going outside on a cold foreign planet. He should reprimand you, make sure you know how stupid it was to do that, but then you look up at him, your eyes sparkling as they catch his through the visor, and it’s like someone’s lifted the beskar from his chest, cool air filling his lungs as he breathes fully for what feels like the first time.

He can’t remember the last time he saw you like this, so in awe of the world and eager to share it with the child, with him. Din thought he’d killed all the joy the two of you felt, but no, here it is again, radiating strong and warm from you and the little being babbling in his arms, and he feels whatever anger he had managed to harbor melt away.

How could he be upset when you two were so happy again?

“It’s okay,” he sighs. “Just- I need you to be more careful when I’m not here. I don’t want you two getting into trouble when I can’t protect you.”

“I know, I know. I promise it won’t happen again.”

It’s a simple affirmation, but your voice is steady, your gaze holding his with so much weight that he knows you mean every word you say. Din knows that he can trust you, so he just nods, deciding there’s not much use in wasting more breath on the topic.

He’s about to turn back to the ship, ready to get you all off this planet like he intended, but the child whines before he can move, pointing a tiny finger at the ground where you had been playing. Before he can ask what’s wrong, you take the child from his arms, speaking in that melodic tone you save for doting on your small companion.

“Oh, you wanna show your dad what we were doing, huh bubs?”

He coos in agreement, and you smile before nodding at Din to follow. You lead him to where you were lying and place the kid down next to two vaguely body shaped depressions in the snow. The kid toddles towards the smaller, shallower one and looks up at Din with bright eyes.

Din’s been with the kid long enough that he knows he’s supposed to act excited at this, but it’s a little hard to do when he has no idea what he’s looking at.

He turns his helmet to you in confusion, only to find you already staring at him with an amused expression.

“Have you never made a snow angel, Mando?” you tease.

“A what?”

You grin at his response, and Din feels his face heat up. He can’t tell if it’s from being embarrassed at not knowing or if it’s just from seeing you smile at him.

“A snow angel. You lie down and move your arms and legs up and down, and then the mark you leave behind kind of looks like an angel.”

The kid makes his way back towards Din while he studies the tracks in the snow. He can kind of see an angel in the design he’s guessing you made, but the child’s-

“Well, it’s supposed to look like an angel,” you add. “But the kid’s so small I guess it's hard to tell. Maybe I should have taught him how to make snowballs instead.”

“No, you made the right choice,” Din interjects. “He doesn’t need anything else to be throwing around with his mind tricks.”

You laugh, nodding in agreement, and he feels his chest expand again at the levity of your voice. He wants to make you laugh again, be the reason you’re so openly joyful, but as he’s racking his brain for something to say, he feels a light tug on his cape.

“What is it, buddy?” Din asks as he kneels next to the child. He doesn’t respond, just starts waddling back towards the patterns in the snow while holding onto the cape, tugging harder once its pulled taut and he can’t move any further.

“I think he wants you to make one too,” you note.

Din sighs as he stands, gently removing his cape from the child’s small hand. As much as he enjoys seeing the kid happy, he thinks it’d be a little ridiculous for him to take part in the childish activity, and he’s not too fond of the idea of lying on the cold, wet ground.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to,” he reasons.

It’s a lame excuse, he knows, but it’s technically true, and he thinks it might be enough to get him out of this little game.

But when you roll your eyes at him, he knows that’s just wishful thinking.

Well, it was worth a shot.

“He did it, I’m sure you can figure it out too,” you accuse, gesturing at the kid who’s plopped himself on the ground. “Come on, bubs, why don’t you show your daddy how it’s done?”

The child doesn’t move though, just tilts his head at you and lets out a confused noise. You shake your head as you make your way to him, but instead of picking him up like Din expects, you just pat his head, striding past the “angels” you made earlier.

“Fine, you lazy little bean,” you say. “I guess I’ll just show him then.”

You sit in a fresh patch of snow and beckon at Din to join you. He’s about to refuse, tell you that it’s time to get back on the ship and leave, but then your bright eyes catch his again.

Maybe it’s worth giving in if it’ll keep that twinkle in your eyes.

“It’s just a little snow, Mando, it’s not gonna kill you.”

Din sighs, pulling his pulse rifle off his back and setting it down before grabbing the kid. He places the child between the two of you as he sits down, following your lead as you lay back in the soft ice and begin to move your limbs.

It’s about as enjoyable as he expects it to be, which is to say not at all. The beskar makes him sink deep into the frozen layer, and he can feel the cold moisture seeping through the gaps in his armor. He’s about to ask how you could genuinely find this fun, but the sound of your laughter mixing with the child’s stops him.

He turns his head to watch you, taking in the way your eyes squeeze shut as your arms draw patterns in the snow, the way the light reflects off the white ground, making it glow around you.

The way it kind of makes you look like an angel.

Suddenly, Din feels warm despite being covered in ice, and he understands how you got the kid to like the snow so quickly.

He thinks he might be starting to like it a little too.

#dincember #I can't believe I'm doing this asdfghkl #i've literally like never written prose idk why i think i can do this lol #this is so much harder than screenwriting rip #also sorry idk how snow works at all #i've only seen it once when i was like 5 LMAO #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #emi writes

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hello-yue-here · 3 years

Text

thank you @chiptrillino for tagging me in a wip game!

not quite sure what the rules are but based off of your AMAZING POST OF ART WIPS (check it out here yall chip is so talented) ive decided to just share some parts of my writing wips that i rlly like because i cannot draw whatsoever lmao

enjoy some lil snippets hehe

from heart don't stand a chance:

"Zuko couldn’t get over her eyes. She was looking past the camera towards the man who took it. Zuko could see clear as day the love she held for Sokka in her gaze.

It was a perfect moment that Sokka had captured. No wonder held it with him at all times. If someone had looked at Zuko like that, he’d never want to see anything again.

As he took in the photograph, Sokka sat next to him in silence. His hand was clutching the ring around his neck again in his fist, pressing it close to his mouth as he peered over Zuko’s shoulder to look. Zuko turned to him to compliment the picture and saw a sad fondness lingering in his eyes."

this is a scene i wrote a while ago thats gonna appear in a much later chapter. but yeah. more yue angst for you guys im so sorry.

from i love you (and that's all i really know):

"Mister Sokka," a little voice wishpered in his ear as he felt tiny pokes on his cheek, "Wake up Mister Sokka."

"Good morning to you too Izumi," Sokka responded wearily as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked towards the little girl who was standing on her tippy toes to see over the edge of the bed and poke his face until he rose.

She smiled at him once she realized he was awake.

"Can we have pancakes?" She asked shyly, hiding her mouth just below the edge of the bed as she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

That look was going to be dangerous for him later on, he could aready tell.

"Sure thing, Izumi, just let me sleep for five more minutes, mkay?" He asked as he shut his eyes again. He was exhausted from last nights events, and the sun had barely risen. How did Zuko do this?"

this is a scene from the next chapter of this fic. so much sokka and izumi bonding you guys are gonna explode hehehe.

from cherry (the mailee fic i wont shut up about that is now a whopping 19 pages):

"Mai never had to guess with Ty Lee. She always knew when Ty Lee was happy about something because she would use an obnoxious amount of exclamation points. She would send gifs of people or cartoons making outlandish expressions whenever she wanted to react to Mai’s text with a specific facial expression. Sometimes Ty Lee would even send voice memos whenever her thoughts became too long, or she got too excited about a story that her fingers couldn’t type as fast as she could speak."

hehe i love mailee.

from yours (the mailee sorority fic that i promise i did not forget about):

"Mai lifted her head off the pillow again and met Zuko’s eyes. She studied his impassive expression, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. He did seem like he missed Mai and Azula, so maybe he did really just want to catch up with them.

But Mai wasn’t going to give up a golden opportunity like this.

“Tell us everything about the boy toy as well and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Mai said.

Zuko rolled his eyes and sighed, “Ugh, fine. And his name is Sokka by the way.”

“Nuance. You also have to wake up Azula.”

“No chance in hell,” Zuko scoffed, “You’re the roommate and her fellow ‘pong princess,’ wake-up duty is all yours.”

“If she murders me, it’s your fault. She’s a bitch when she’s hungover.”

“Whatever you say, Mai,” Zuko grinned before returning back to his phone."

i have decided that zuko is a little shit for this fic and no one can stop me.

from Where'd All the Time Go? (the yuekka fic that i have severe writers block with that i also promis i have not forgotten about):

"“Sokka I really think you need to take a moment and-”

“I am fine Aang, I don’t have time for a feelings talk right now. Right now I need to find the fucking chief of this damn place.” His words came out harsher than he meant, but he didn’t have the time to dwell on that.

Before Sokka could run off again to continue his search, a hand grabbed his arm. One of Arnook’s advisors, Malina, had started dragging him towards the podium.

“Do you not realize how late you are for this Sokka? The ceremony was supposed to begin with your speech nearly an hour ago-” she hissed at him as she pulled him along through the crowd.

“Malina I’m sorry but I really need to speak with Arnook it is urgent-”

“This damn speech of yours is what’s urgent right now Sokka, you can speak with Arnook later but the guests are getting antsy so you need to give your speech right. Now.”

“But-”

“Now.”

Maline shoved Sokka towards the podium and suddenly all eyes were on him. Every guest in attendance had their focus solely on Sokka."

homeboy is stressed in this scene. things are slowly going to shit in this chapter. i promise i will update this before the end of the year. i swear. im so sorry.

from a currently untitled jetko/sukka boiling rock fic:

"“Oh good, you survived after all,” She said in a mocking tone.

Jet didn’t answer. He knew anything he said would be used against him. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what was happening. But he would be damned if he showed that weakness in front of the fire nation.

“I was told you were more talkative than this,” the girl mused. There was something familiar about her, “my informants were very detailed when discussing your little teashop romance.”

I knew it. Jet snarled in his mind, That bastard betrayed me."

i want this fic to be a little darker but idk how good i am at writing darker fics because i love fluff and humor too much. this could be good angst practice for me.

from a toph and sokka fic that i wrote a while back to help me cope w some shit that i dont know if ill ever post:

"“Sokka? Are you still there?” Toph asked, the slightest hint of concern began to slip into their voice

“Tell me a story,” he was trembling. Despite all of his efforts to sound calm, he knew his voice came out trembling and scratchy and pathetic-

“Is everything okay? You don’t sound too hot,” Toph said through the phone.

Breathe, Sokka, breathe. You don’t want them to be worried, you just need to calm down.

“Please, Toph, I just,” he said through shaky breaths that weren’t nearly deep enough for him to be getting enough oxygen, “I just need a distraction. I just need to hear your voice okay?”"

nonbinary toph anyone?

from a 10 things i hate about you kataang and zukka au:

"“What? Something on my face?” the guy asked deadpanned. He rubbed at his scar as if he were wiping off a smudge of mustard, and Aang’s face went pale.

“Stop scaring the sophomores Zuko, this one’s new. He won’t get your… humor… just yet,” Ms. Wu said as she waved Aang off again.

“I’m hurt that you’d imply I’m not funny, Wu. I’m hilarious,” the senior, Zuko, said as he walked past Aang.

Aang let out a sigh of relief knowing that this Zuko guy didn’t seem all that offended by his awkwardness, and darted out of the room."

zuko is a little shit part 2. the amount of sarcasm i have dripping off of heath ledger zuko is glorious. let zuko be a little shit. i havent added to this in months but when i finish some of my other wips i cant wait to get back to this.

i have more wips and drafts saved but none of them have anything juicy or funny or interesting yet because all of them are like less than three pages so far

but yeah, heres a good chunk of sneaky peakys from my wips!

I hope you liked them!

anyone who wants to do this can totally go for it. imma tag @ambykinns @lumities and @flowers-inthepieshop (only if you all want too!!) because this was fun :)

#liv talks about writing #liv talks ab fanfic #liv wips #liv fics #i love sharing my writing #especially when i have a bit of a block going on with well.... every fic #maybe this will give me inspiration!!!#i love sharing my writing im proud of these little snippets and i hope you all likes them as well :)#atla #avatar: the last airbender

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