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bambooshuohuop · 23 days

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in which, Zhongli takes care of you when sudden pains go through your body. yet when you keep being careless and neglect your health, he may or may not run out of patience. who knows how extreme he'll get just so you remember?

tags: fluff, short fic, zhongli being a lovely menace, health, nursing back to health, married relationship, sick!reader (not rlly), lowercase

; this is an idea inspired by my own pains :'). take care of your health, everyone!!

you should've known that your working habits will come to bite you back one day. sitting on a stiff chair for hours, unsupported back hunched unless you crack it back to stretch, your water intake barely existing, and the unhealthy habits of your meal times. all of which took a toll on your mortal body.

only when you start to get sick does it dawn on you how weak your immune system is.

of course, your complexion was something that bothered Zhongli. you were quite pale. in fact, when he was still courting you- he was already a worrywart about your health. if his work permitted him a freetime, he will absolutely take the chance to nurse you.

now your husband, his worry became tenfold. back when he was still single, Zhongli barely uses his paid vacation from work. but due to your carelessness, he began to use them frequently.

❛love, haven't I told you to stretch at least twice a day?❜ he mutters one evening, setting a cup of tea infront of you.

❛I knooowww.❜ you drag off, feeling your whole back ache as you sat idly on a chair. you heard your lover sigh in disappointment, yet you felt his presence coming up from behind— gentle hands gliding from your shoudler blades as he massages them.

❛but I just needed to finish some paperwork. I was so into it, too!❜

❛darling,❜ he calls out softly, ❛those are just some things that can be extended over a period of time. your health is more important than—❜

❛I know, Zhongli. I'm really sorry.❜ you mutter, feeling your muscles loosen as you slowly relax under his hold. you already know his sermon spiels that's about to come out of his mouth. you didn't mean to cut him off, but you've been so tired today. a lecture from your husband isn't really what you need right now.

unbeknownst to you, he was beginning to lose patience. something that never happened before. he was an old god after all, experiences shaped him to be patient and wise. a truly benevolent god befitting for Liyue.

yet when he hears that tone for the nth time. his patience can just snap. not at you but for you. here he was, your husband fretting over your mortal body. you can just disappear from his grasp at anytime. and no matter how much he tries to deny his worry, he does feel scared of losing you.

though here you are, not a shred of care for your own health.

Zhongli knew that falling in love with you will result in a bittersweet relationship. cut short by time taking away the liveliness of your soul. so when he keeps hearing the same apologies over and over with no absolute change done by yourself alone. Zhongli guesses it's time to do things as your husband. he vowed to take care of you after all.

he will help you. even if you do not want to.

❛w- wait! Zhongli, that hurts!❜

❛hm?❜ snapping out of his stupor, he felt you move away from his hands as you whined audibly. your hands weakly attempting to massage your sore back. he had realized that he may have accidentally pressed too hard on the sore spots.

oops.

...but well, you do need absolute help, right?

❛oh darling,❜ Zhongli tugs you back on the chair, a sweet smile adorning his face.

oddly enough, you felt a cloud of doom looming over your head by his expression.

❛I did a research yesterday on how to sooth away your stiff shoulders. it has to be like that.❜

❛what?!❜ you basically screeched, forcing your body to scoot away from the devil, ❛you just made that up!❜

❛the books do not lie, darling. now come here, so that I may nurse you back to health.❜

❛w- wait Zhongli, i'm really sorry—!❜

suffice to say, from that day onwards you learn to never piss off Zhongli (even if he doesn't say it out loud). much less the ex-archon of your nation.

forgetting to drink water? now you drink at least 2 Liters a day from the large water bottle your husband had kindly gifted you.

hunched back? don't worry, he had made you a schedule (merging with your work time) to stretch your body every 30 mins. if it truly does hurt to do it by yourself, he'll personally come and help you when he gets home. he recommends not to skip it, even when you're engrossed with your work lest you meet his wrath.

you know that he won't harm you. he loves his spouse too much to do that. however, he won't let you be without consequences and long hours of lecture if you disobey him.

eating times? expect a temporary house husband Zhongli to come to the rescue! prep meals are already by the dining table, all you need to do is heat them up.

❛Zhongli?❜

❛hm? what is it, dear?❜

❛.....thank you.❜

no matter how much jarring it is for the sudden change of schedule. you truly are grateful for such a doting husband. from then on, you try to be meticulous on your health, just so you wouldn't see the pout on his lips or the furrow on his brow worrying about you— even if it meant enduring to the cruel process of pain. (it's just a massage, you're being dramatic.)

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bumblinv · 1 year

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Hii, saw your request were open!

This might not even make sense, because I don't even know if the na'vi have this too

But some hc to human reader getting their period earlier than expected and the sully kids + tsireya, aonung and roxto reaction to weird human biology

Thanks alot and stay healthy!!

--- sex ed. class ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

platonic!various x gn!human!reader

!! in my hc, fem na'vi doesn't menstruate !!

teaching your na’vi friends, who doesn’t menstruate, the beautiful world of human biology

part 1! part 2

"so, your... thing bleeds every month?"

you nod

"are you stupid?

"i'm sorry?"

ao'nung clicks his tongue, looking at you with disbelieve. "that means you're doing something, only Eywa knows what, to yourself. and you’re doing it so badly that it bleeds-"

you hit him on the head, "no! what are you even thinking?"

"no, but seriously" neteyam looks at you with concern, "forgive me for watching you, but this morning i saw you wash your blanket that’s literally soaked with blood"

your face starts to heat up, "that means the cloth i use wasn't enough-"

"3 pieces of cloth to soak your blood. and it wasn't even enough?" tsireya's voice filled with worry, "are you sure you're okay? we could ask my mother to patch you up"

"reya, im fine-"

"no you're not! you came to her for painkillers this morning, to mend your stomach cramps!"

"its probably tape worms"

"no shit", rotxo snickers

"or just a real bad constipation"

"rotxo, ao’nung please” kiri rolls her eyes, tired of their stupidity. “they clearly said that the bleeding comes from their other below"

not long after lo'ak snaps his head towards you, mouth agape. "holy shit. i think i know what's going on", then quickly moves closer to you. his face just a few inches from yours, his terrified look terrifies you

"my mother experienced the same things as you, when we were about to have tuk. stomach hurting, below bleeding- "

"no. fucking. way” rotxo clasps his mouth, “are you about to give birth?"

"what?"

ao’nung’s jaw dropped. “who knocked you up?”

“that’s it i’m taking you to the tsahik”

“STOP”

your friends went quiet.

they could only stare at your flushed face as your breathing went erratic.

you gulp, trying to calm yourself down. you close your eyes, inhaling a good amount of oxygent to fill your lungs and letting your mind go blank. then, you could open your mouth again

"as you all know, female bodies bear children in their uterus, yes?"

they all nod

"good. now the uterus, in human bodies specifically, would prepare for pregnancy every month-"

"so you need to get pregnant every month?"

"shut up rotxo"

"wait a minute" kiri cuts you off, "you’re not pregnant, but you’re currently bleeding. so the bleeding occurs when the pregnancy doesn’t happen?"

"yup. because i'm not pregnant, my womb's lining shreds out"

their terrified screams deafens you

#avatar #avatar x reader #avatar x you #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #kiri #kiri x reader #aonung #aonung x reader #tsireya #tsireya x reader #rotxo #rotxo x reader

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gilverrwrites · 5 months

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Section 48: Unlawful Kisses

Pairing: Sam Winchester/AFAB! Reader

GN pronouns used, but reader does have a vagina, breasts, and wears 'feminine' clothing.

Plot: While studying at for a law exam, the reader just cannot keep their eyes, or mind, off of Sam.

Rating: M/18+

This is actually an updated/re-written fic I wrote and posted on a now deleted blog roughly 10 years ago. (Damn I'm old.) If well received I might try re-doing some other fics/writing new ones, who knows!

Don't forget: You are amazing, and worthy of love.

Content: Swearing, vaginal oral/cunnilingus, body worship, nipple play, vaginal fingering, teasing, dirty talk, semi-public, naked female, clothed male, size difference, light hair pulling, light biting, fluids, consensual, dominate Sam (if you squint). Reader is kind of a perv, Sam is a tease. Reader calls the shots, but Sam is Definity in charge.

Section 47; took away privilege against self-incrimination from any person ordered to testify or produce books, p-

Your eyes darted over to Sam for probably the millionth time since he had joined you half an hour ago. You had an exam tomorrow, and you’d hauled up in the library for some last-minute cramming, but since Sam had joined you, you’d lost any and all ability to concentrate. It was hard enough trying to focus on possibly the drollest piece of text you’d ever had to read, without him being here. Without the musky cedar smell of his aftershave, without his deft fingers skimming each page, without his pursed lips filling your head with thoughts of what he might be able to do with them. Those lips…

“You okay?” His hushed voice pierced the silence as he peeked over at you. You’d been staring, again.

“Who me? Yeah, totally.” You lied, pulling your book up to cover your gradually reddening face. The space between your legs was hot, but your face was hotter. “Peachy.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, unconvinced, but returning to his own book regardless.

Section 47; took away privilege against self-incrimination from any person ordered to testify or produce books, papers, etc., and provided that any person so ordered to testify or produce would be immune from any prosecution based on evidence provided….

Movement in your peripheral distracted you. You looked over to see Sam, leaning all the way back in his chair, his toned arms stretched behind him, neck exposed, chest puffed out. The hem of his shirt had ridden up slightly, giving you the tiniest peak at his abdomen, and the trail of hair that adorned it.

Reluctantly you turned back to your studies, not wanting to be caught eyeing him up yet again, but as soon as your eyes returned to the text in front of you, he let out a sigh.

You glanced over just in time to watch his tongue dart out, wetting his finger so he could turn a page. Amazing how such a small action could make your knees weak. Shit… it’s like he was trying to distract you.

Probably feeling your eye burning into him, Sam turned to look back at you, and yet again you dived back into your textbook, hiding behind its paper walls as you tried to rid your mind of Sam and his mouth.

“Section 48; set forth venue in any prosecution for unlawful… unlawful… unlawful things I want you to do to me with those lips.”

“What?” You jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“What?” You repeated back, spinning to look up at his quizzical expression.

“You said something…” His lips squeezed into a smile, his eyes raked up and down your body, and suddenly you knew how Sam must have felt under your gaze just minutes earlier. “Something about, lips doing unlawful things to you?”

“Shit.” You thought your eyes might bulge out of your head, your heart was in the pit of your stomach, and if you’d been blushing before, you must look like a traffic light now. “Did- did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah.” He confirmed, with a nod. His brows furrowed and his jaw tightened as he leaned in closer. You couldn’t resist taking a deep breath in through your nose, indulging in his scent. His hot breath against the ear sent a chill down your spine. “Were you talking about my lips?”

Your brain went into overdrive, was this it? The moment you’d been waiting for? You and Sam had always had a playful, flirty relationship, but was this the turning point? If you confessed, would he give you what you want? Could you both finally stop beating around the bush and get down and dirty together? What exactly would he do? Or would you humiliate yourself? Would he send you packing with your tail between your legs? Could you live with that rejection? Totally, it would suck but you’d get over it, right? Right.

You chanced a look at Sam's face. His eyes bore into you so intensely it made your stomach roll. You’d never seen him look so fierce before, and much like every other expression he wore, it was hot.

Trying to mimic his confidence you straightened your back, locked eyes with him, and nodded.

He smiled, and immediately you felt assured, but that didn’t stop your hair from standing on edge as he pressed into you. This time you felt the softness of his lips on the shell of your ear, and it made you squirm. “Say it.”

“I want you to do unlawful things to me with your mouth, Sam.” You responded, trying your best to sound sultry.

“Oh yeah.” He murmured, lowering his mouth to the back of your jaw, caressing your skin with each word. You wished he could read the dictionary to you in this exact position. “Like what?”

You scanned through your surroundings, checking each aisle of books to confirm your solitude. Nobody else really came this far back in the library, especially at this time of night. You were pretty certain the only other person in the building was the night librarian, who only ever ventured from her desk to make a coffee in the communal kitchen. You had little to worry about as long as you stayed vigilant. Brazen smile on your lips, you turned your attention back to Sam who seemingly had also been examining your surroundings.

Reaching up, you ran your fingers up the warm skin of his neck and threaded them into his hair. You’d always wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked, and now you finally had confirmation; yes. Yes, it was that soft.

“Like,” You hummed, gently guiding him from your neck until you were face-to-face. “I want you to kiss me, slow and gentle to start. Then har-“

He interrupted you, tenderly pressing his lips to yours, just as gently as you’d imagined. Strong hands came up to cup your face and pull you into him, deepening the kiss. Your own hands knotted into his hair as his mouth pressed harder against your own.

“Like that?” He asked, breaking away just enough so that his words were intelligible.

“Exactly like that.” You replied, surprised by the breathiness of your own voice.

“What next?” He pried, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

You could think of a thousand things you wanted him to do next, but… “Aren’t you worried someone might see us? We could get in a lot of trouble.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when, and if, we get to it.” He shrugged, amusement clear as day on his face, completely unable to refrain from grinning. “If you don’t want that to happen, you’ll have to keep really quiet. Or tell me to stop.”

You knew he was into this, both of you at the mercy of each other. The exhilaration of possibly being caught. Besides, you’d already grabbed the bull by the horns, may as well enjoy the ride.

“Well… Next, I want you to keep kissing me, on my jaw, my neck, my ches-”

Clearly, too excited to wait until you’d finished your instructions, Sam leaned in to kiss you once more. His lips never left yours as his arms looped around your waist, lifting you from your seat like you were nothing and placing you on the desk, blinding you from anyone who might stumble to your section of the library. The simultaneous actions made you lose any composure and you moaned into Sam's mouth.

He pulled back, pressing a finger to his lips and shushing you. You barely had a chance to take in his dishevelled form before he reattached himself to your jawline, rapidly tracing his lips against your smooth skin, occasionally swirling his tongue in any crevice he could find. You had to stifle a whimper when you felt his teeth nipping at your throat.

Sam’s calloused hands massaged your shoulders briefly before he hooks his fingers under the straps of your vest top, working them down your arms, along with the neckline, revealing your bra to him.

“These too?” He asks, leaning back to admire you. Still unable to rein back the smile on his face.

“Those too.” You established as he reached out both hands to cup each breast. Not wanting to be completely exposed, you elected against entirely removing your bra. You did, however, guide his hands to grip the top of its cups, folding them down to your underbust, thus exposing them completely, but allowing you a quick and easy way to pull it back up.

“Lucky me.” Sam mused, eyes glazed, his tongue darted over his lips before he dipped down to fix his mouth around your left nipple.

You sucked in a harsh breath and reached out for him. Your hands gripping into the fabric of his shirt. Unable to ignore the growing heat between your legs you started squirming, rubbing your thighs together to produce any sort of friction. Sam clearly noticed and let out a small laugh, the gust of air on your wet nipple only serving to turn you on all the more. Obviously enjoying your reaction Sam moved over to the other side. Using his fingers to play with your left nipple as he sucks on the right. Playfully he nibbles at the hardened skin before blowing on it. Both times you resist the urge to let out a groan.

“Does that feel good?” He asks, kissing his way back up your chest.

“Yes.” You reply, steering him up until he’s close enough for you to plant another kiss on his lips. With a gentle hand, he pushes you back, cutting your kiss short. You pout and he laughs, but you let him lay you down. Your back presses against your long-forgotten textbooks. You should probably check them out when you leave, just so you can wipe them down before anyone else uses them you think. The feel of Sam's fingers squeezing your tits pulls you from your train of thought.

“Should I keep kissing you here?” He asks, before dipping his hand lower, running it across your belly before hitching up your skirt. Gingerly he runs his thumb over your panties, once twice, three times before looking back up at you. “Or do you want my unlawful mouth down here?” He teased.

“Down there.” You respond without hesitation. “Down there is good!”

“I can tell.” He says as he grasps your underwear, quickly pulling them down your legs, over your feet before dandling them above you. “You’re already soaked.”

And he was right, you could see the dark stain your wetness had left against the fabric. You’d blush, but you were already half naked, and sprawled out for him in the middle of a public space. You couldn’t be any more exposed if you’d tried.

Without another word, Sam tucked your panties into his pocket and got to work. He ghosted the tips of his fingers against your folds and your toes curled. Slowly he added more and more pressure until you could feel him firmly rubbing against your clit.

“Fuck.” You whined, Sam immediately removed his hands from you entirely.

“Wh-“ You darted into a seated position only for Sam to clamp his hand over your mouth.

“Shhh.” He hissed, before grabbing you by the wrists and replacing his hand with your own. “Keep your voice down. Not a peep, okay?”

His voice was deadly serious but the look on his face betrayed him. He was loving this. You bow your head in acknowledgement and allow him to lean you back against the table. You watch impatiently as he re-surveys the area. Clearly content that you’re still alone together, he crouches down, levelling himself with you, then slowly leans in and places a kiss on your core.

Content with keeping you on edge he starts slow. His mouth barely making contact with your skin. Blood rushing, and heart thundering you can barely contain yourself. You rest your legs on his shoulders, thighs around his head, and attempt to urge him on, to pull him closer.

Sam chuckles, his breath taunting your slit.

Then without warning, he delves into you. He starts on your clit again, and you fight every urge to clench your legs around him, to cry out. You bite your knuckles instead as he works downward.

He begins darting his tongue in and out, fucking your entrance until you're dripping down his face. You glance down at him, and have to hold back another groan at what you see. Eye closed, brows knitted, Sam is totally lost, blissed out in between your legs.

One of his hands grips your thigh for purchase as he pulls his face up, returning to your clit. The other hand sneaks between your legs, and he plunges two fingers inside. Allowing you no time to adjust, he sets a fast, steady pace. His fingers keep pumping into you, as his mouth continues working over your clit.

You fight back every moan, every cry that attempts to climb out of you, biting onto your hand so hard that you're afraid you might take a chunk out of yourself.

It isn’t long before your toes begin curling again, you kick your legs around, rutting yourself against Sam's face to try and relieve the energy building up in you. Sam remains unbothered, completely serene buried in your heat. He’s like a machine, a pussy-eating God, never faltering from his pace.

Your orgasm was fast approaching, you arched your back, craning your head back. Your hips stilled, locking in place when it finally hit you. You felt like there was fire in your veins and it was all pulsing into your pussy. Your nails dug into your cheek as you silence your own screams.

Panting and shaky from your orgasm, you sag against the table, letting your legs dangle either side of Sam, signalling to him that you’d climaxed, if he was even in doubt.

“How was that? Everything you had in mind?” He asked, standing up, towering over you. The lower half of his face glistened with your slick.

“Fuck Sam.” You breathed, reaching for him, needing assistance to get it back up.

The sound of footsteps startled you both, interrupting you before you could even start to compliment him. You launched off the table, stretching up to wipe Sam's mouth. Sam in turn roughly gabbed at your top and bra, yanking it back over your chest before you both bombed back into your chairs, and just in time.

The concerned face of the night shift librarian pokes out from behind a shelf. “You kids alright? I thought I heard some commotion?”

“No. We’re good.” You both said in union, suppressing laughter.

The librarian eyed you both wearily before nodding at you both. “Okay then, I’ll let you get back to your books.”

You both waited in complete silence and stillness until you deemed her footsteps far away enough.

“Sam! That was amazing.” You half whispered; half sang.

Sam in turn looked embarrassed, scratching the back of his head, averting his eyes, unable to hide the growing blush on his own cheeks. You couldn’t believe his sheepishness, as if he wasn’t tongue deep inside you just moments before.

“Thanks.” He grinned. “Do you want to come back to my place? I’d like to do that again, but actually get to hear you this time, you know?”

You glanced down at the open books strewn across the desks, and then up at the clock. It was late...

Screw it, if you didn’t have all the reading memorised by now, you weren’t gonna know it by the morning.

“Absolutely!” You exclaimed, not missing the look of triumph in Sam's eyes before you stood and started packing your notes into your bag. “But can I get my underwear back?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Sam patted his pocket as he stood to pack his own bag. You reached your hand over to him, but instead of returning your underwear, he took your hand in his, and began leading you through the shelves. “You can have them back in the morning.”

#sam winchester #sam winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x you #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester x reader smut #gilverrwrites

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darkdemeter · 3 months

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WORST FUR WEATHER PHASES COLLECTION #1/8

— WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN (ONESHOT)

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

| A/N | DISCRETION |

Take a seat, we're learning a little bit more of (headcanon) mcu werewolf anatomy and biology.

PORN + PLOT / SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI — monster fucking — sex pollen — unprotected sex — knotting — breeding kink — marking — profanity — oral (fem receive) — implication of ovulation — maybe slight excessive cum? — pet name "little lamb" — I think that's it?

| SUMMARY |

Imagine being exposed to a sex pollen. You track and reunite with Wanda at the apartment as the rain begins to fall...

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3.3K(words)

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@alexawynters @alyciaddict (Additionally, this part's for you): @maladaptive-daydreamz @donnietarantino

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I. A beast that ravishes the lamb is often depicted as a monster. In humanity’s original and adapted stories, oftentimes, the wolf is the culprit. In its hunger and greed for food, the wolf preys upon what can’t defend itself. Because of this, it’s branded as a monster.

But what if the wolf doesn’t ravish for the greed of food, but for the hunger of companionship?

The rain pelts harder now, your fur drenched, slick with the droplets that now run rivulets down the curvature of your muscles. Your tail swishes from side to side in your hungering curiosity, the power in your haunches holds you atop the balcony’s railing.

Your head is bowed and turned to your side before it raises up, nose twitching in resistance to the raindrops trying to hinder the alluring scent in the air, coming from inside the apartment. Her body is sudden to flinch, the muscles and nerves twitching in a response to fight or flight when your head moves; turning your gaze inward to the apartment.

Wanda stares with her mouth agape, the way your amber eyes beam hotly against the glass, reflective orbs dancing over the wide window panel as you tilt your head slightly.

Her eyes travel downwards, following the flowing river that leaves you soaking wet. A flutter takes over her stomach then. The way your eyes search through the glass pane, she wonders if you’re able to see her completely or if you only take notice of your own reflection. To test her theory, she moves slowly, her body shifts around one of the couches.

Your head ever so slightly follows along with her. You can see her.

Your eyes analyse her through the barrier between you both. The dark stockings that hug her legs tight, to the point that the exposed skin at the top of her thighs is only visible by an inch, before the rest is hidden beneath her scarlet dress. In your wolf mind, you’re left to the primal beauty of your unsatiated fantasies. And that red dress and those stockings - amongst other things - were making the wait worse for you. Tortuously so.

With a husk-drawn growl, your muzzle wrinkles to bare your elongated teeth, the heat of your body only increases as she nears closer to the glass.

One powerful leg stoops down off the ledge, muscles flexing, the pads of your pawed feet scuffing against the balcony’s floor. Wanda’s eyes watch with an infectious amount of intent and delight, her chest rises and forces her breasts to push up with a deep breath.

Seeing her lungs deflate, you can read her sigh of relief.

“I thought… I thought I’d lost you,” she says behind the glass, pressing a hand up, reaching out for you. Your other leg moves down and you stalk forward, the rain that ran down your form follows you in a wet trail.

“But you’re here,” she gasps, “you’re alive.”

An obscurity paints itself on the glassy surface when your hot breath hits it, misting over the outline of her hand.

She notices how your fiery eyes rake up and down her form and she’s reminded of what toxic chemical attacks your system. The mound juncture between your powerful, muscular thighs also proves just how far along since it’s invaded your body.

But strangely enough, you appear… calm. It brings a cause of curiosity, your calmness, and Wanda tilts her head to the left slightly and leaves the curve of her neck exposed.

That’s when she sees that composure leave you at the drop of a hat. The formation of your browline scrunches and your muzzle wrinkles into a snarl, you snap your jaws with a growl at the glass, your claws hatch aggressive lines into the window’s surface. She’s taken aback and stumbles, backing away from the window a few steps.

When she looks again, between your legs at the pitifully aroused location, her breath becomes light and short lived in her lungs, a slickness pools between her thighs, threatening to drool and seep out from her panties. Wanda’s often fantasised about you fucking her raw and hard until she cannot take it any longer many times - in your human form - but now, all she can conjure in her mind is the desirable idea of having you take her like this.

And the way your eyes linger on her form in hunger does little to ease her own for you. She hears the muffled tone of your guttural purr, "Let me in, little Lamb..."

Would it be wise to feed the wolf? For Wanda, assuredly so, if the rumour was to be believed. And if tonight had any meaning behind it, it would only articulate what she’s about to do is unwise. Through the tunnel of your throat, a whine escapes you, ears folded flat. She bears witness to your suffering in turmoil because of the pollen that drives you to the very edge of pure, unbridled instinct.

An instinct she is more than willing to satisfy. It will mean only one thing at the end of the night. A confession. The truth.

The bent line centering your canine forehead moves, the brow ridges rising as your eyes stalk her every move, taking into account every minute shift of her breasts straining against the bust of her dress. That dress that caught the attention of a few strangers in particular, unfamiliar scents tainted by their betraying aroma, giving you a not-so-pleasant glimpse into their intentions with her.

Her hands move to the handle and with a click that between you two, the whole of New York could’ve heard, she slides the balcony door open. In doing so, she invites inside something akin to a monster. Feared as one. Not only that, but the intrusive waterfall of rain, the once ballet of weather pitter pattering softly now brings to life just how cold and unfair the weather had been on your fur.

She lets her still heeled feet carry her backwards, slowly chased inside by your towering frame that looms through the doorway as a blackened shadow. The burning amber ever so prominent and hungry in their hunting gaze.

Between the shaggy carpet and the wooden floorboards, the wet trail paints your every step, evidently giving away how you prowl towards her slowly.

She summons your name on the tip of her tongue that moves to bounce over her teeth and the roof of her mouth, red stained lips moving in their pronunciation. A sharpened snarl recoils in the back of your throat like a plucked musical chord. You all but lunge at her until her palms meet the drenched surface of your front, relishing momentarily in the still burning heat she can feel. It’s like your body never understood the idea of going cold.

The back of her thighs meet against the arm of the couch, knocking her backwards, a breathless gasp is the only noise she’s capable of.

Before, your movements had been slow. Methodical and calculating. But now that you were inside, you had your prey in your grasp now. Already your teeth, each one a blade of its own accord, snatches hold of the black laced thong Wanda wore, a sneaky little detail that had no place being in your way.

She says your name, voice far more carrying the airiness of breathless haste, “C-calm down, I’m not going anywh–ahh!”

The hot pillar of your tongue laps her soaking folds, tasting the bare minimum of her sweet, alluring nectar. “S–sl-slow down!” she squeaks only for it to falter into a low moan, her hips rising up to meet the next deep lashing of your tongue, roughly rubbing over her delicate pearl.

She mutters a string of curses under her breath, each one followed by a gulp of breath, hands just out of reach from her position to clutch hold of the thick mane of fur.

All the while, she endures the pleasures of her cunt being savagely pleasured beyond what she originally thought possible. Her hands run through her own hair, fingers snagging the locks of hair until the roots ached and stung with each pull.

And this is before your tongue breaks through her folds. And when you finally do, she drowns in the sensation of her climax already, lingering just there, right on the verge of deliverance; but you’d only just started. She can’t lose it now. So she holds it back to get her fix of this bliss.

The obscene noises that reside between her thighs is cause for the deep, scarlet flush to paint beneath her skin, teeth embedded into her bottom teeth until she can taste the tartness of blood.

“Right there!” she cries out, hips jerking forward, “Ahh! Right… there…”

She cannot know for sure if you’re listening to her. Even if you’re not, you seem to be on the same wavelength given that your tongue continues to flick back and forth, hunger driving you to lap at that one spot that has her writhing and squirming. To keep her from getting too carried away, with a hoarse growl that sends a rattling shiver to creep through her searing core, your clawed hands wrench her legs apart and pin them to a still.

Her orgasm builds into a heavy snowball but she refrains from letting it go. Not yet. Just a little longer. She needs you between her legs, just like this, for a little bit longer. She whines you name, lightly pitched as the wet surface of your nose nuzzles her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to really get her off.

Never have you both been together like this before, but it’s like you know what to do to her. Like this is the usual at the end of a long day, the two of you enjoying the pleasurable company of one another.

“Please… Please!” she mewls softly, tears brimming her waterline with uncontrollable heat. You growl again and her hips buck, your tongue delves further into her, however that is possible, you reach that spot that has her on the edge, clinging on tightly. She moans louder this time, a chorus of strung breaths working air into her lungs to keep her alive.

You groan in protest when her body locks up right as you feel her body momentarily relax, ready and pliant to give you that sweet release you both crave.

“Cum, little Lamb.” The command is answered instantaneously. She exhales sharply, whimpering at the intense wave of her orgasm, flooding your mouth with her arousal. Greedily, you lap every single drop she gives, the tears now free slide down her temples and into her hairline, plump lips parted with her erotic sighs and songs. All her muscles are frozen, her skin is riddled in the shocking heat that combats the wet smears of your drenched fur painting her exposed, quivering legs. “Y-Y/N?” she swallows thickly. She drowns beneath your black shadow, eyes wide and pupils blown wide, admiring the sight before her. Your large head resurfaces, the long, pink tendril of your tongue cleans the gums and teeth slick with the thicket of her juices.

Lying to herself at that moment is impossible. Sinful. She’s been missing out on so much because of her fear that you’d reject her. All it’s taken now to let the bottle of repressed desire and longing is a drug that courses through your veins like a river, poisoning your rational mind with the beast’s feverish needs.

Your eyes - your attention - lays with her gaze until it’s stolen away. Nose twitching and ears pricking with interest, your eyes trail down between her thighs, a rumble echoing in the chamber of your chest thoughtfully. Two, long and clawed digits lift, and those razors could terrify anyone; even Wanda. But you’re gentle. You spread her folds wide open, the warmth of your breath coats her pussy, clit once again coming to life with need.

A final, slow swipe of your tongue, you collect the last remnants of her juices and let your eyes lock with hers, you make sure she watches you gulp it down. She tastes exquisite. Divine. In season.

She’s seen that look in your eyes only once before. You’d seen a girl who struck your fancy. Cute nose, beautiful, long curly hair that was a reddish brown, sweet and enticing like a lamb for the slaughter. Wanda never wanted to admit it, but seeing you chase that girl into the crowd a year ago made her heart ache, her stomach clench and anger seethe. Many of her fellow friends had to advise her against using her magic on the girl, that you were not hers.

Only around a month later you’d dropped the news that the girl wasn’t interested in you after she found out what you were. Wanda had been ecstatic only for it to turn into guilt, seeing how the low blow had hit you.

She promised herself that she’d confess her feelings to you when she was ready. Then the rumours happened. She comes back from her reverie to be smothered by that look. Now it’s turned on her. She is the one bathed by that wolf’s smoulder.

Your muzzle wrinkles up, snarling, “Take it off.”

Her eyes lower to her dress as if inspecting it for the first time that evening, despite having all but flaunted it in front of you, almost teasing you with that wicked glint in her bright green eyes, asking ‘How do I look?’.

“The dress?” she asks. Your head brushes against her, teeth tugging at the fabric to drag it down her shoulder.“Off.”

You needed her now. Time is tickling as she works to pry her dress off her body, you growl when she takes a few extra seconds too long, you snatch hold and rip her bra off just as she flings the dress to the couch’s side. She yelps in surprise as the lacy black accessory is naught but a meshy piece of material between your teeth.

You huff, now satisfied and you tug her closer.

“W-what are you doing?” she stutters, looking over her shoulder when you turn and pin her stomach over the couch arm. She drawls your name when you don’t answer her either verbally, physically, your actions are confusing.

“Getting this shit out of my fucking system.” Wanda tasted heavenly, there’s no doubt that you enjoyed it, but it isn’t enough. It only triggered the pollen more and tasting the sweetness of her cycle that still lingers on your tongue, you’re hellbent on filling her with your pups. And if you don’t commit to it now, your wolf sure will, and that is an unchained massacre waiting to happen.

Wanda feels the breath in her lungs vanish as you wrench her legs apart for your leisure, the glistening of her swollen sex an alluring, intoxicating sight to behold, you groan deeply. Your tongue mocks the action of kissing along her shoulder and back, properly lining yourself up behind her with your hands encircled around her hips, your prominently aroused mound pushed flush against her. Her head falls forward with a low sigh.

Her core awaits, she shivers with anticipation, she moans softly into the air as a husky growl sounds right beside her ear, “I want your pups…”

With the final adjustments, you’re lined up and you rut your hips forward. Behind every thrust, she feels the raw intensity of power. A rasped, low howl emits from you. Her lips fall wide and apart, a scream is strangled in her throat.

“You can take it.”

“Y–ou’re just… s-so…,” she pants. Your lips stretch into a wolfish smirk.

“So what, little Lamb?”

She moans lowly as you continue to ruthlessly pound into her from your mounted stance. “F–uck!”

Your hips stutter out of instinct, railing into Wanda without a second thought. She makes a small noise, a whiney sound that you take as encouragement to keep going. With a more than glad huff, you rut your hips back and forth harder, angling her that little bit more and her back arches like a cat, mewling and begging.

“Yes! Y–es! Right there, oh shit, don’t stop!”

You weren’t planning to any time soon. Not when your fucking into her tiny cunt. Your voice is shredded between animalistic and human, engrossed with the woman beneath you who said it clear as day: she wants your pups. You can picture it now, her womb swollen with your growing offspring, how beautiful she’d be glowing, you groan particularly louder than before as she sneaks a hand behind her and tugs at the fur of your neck.

“Don’t pull away… don’t—”

“I’m fucking knotting you. We’re not– fuck! Parting for a–while…”

You feel that coil of arousal build up, your release stirring in the bowels of your core whilst Wanda succumbs to the second deliverance of her next release, she chases it relentlessly, as do you, to feel her finally after all this time. Your thrusts grow heavier, much faster than your set pace before as the climax of your orgasms becomes a prominent factor of when.

“I’m close,” hiccups, “I-I’m gonna… gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Lamb. W-wanna feel you…”

“I’m there! I’m there—!”

One hand releases her to grasp the couch, claws tearing and rendering the furniture into ruin, she pleads for you to go harder. Faster. To fuck her raw until she’s swollen with your pups.

“Yeah? You want to mother my pups?” you husk and she nods like an eager bitch in heat. “I’ll breed you over and over again— sh-shit…”

She screams your name, shrill and blissed out, she meets against the strength of your rutting hips that slam into her with wild drive.

Your teeth bare over the soft dew of her milky skin, she whimpers a soft, “Yes…”

Sinking your teeth into the curve between her shoulder and neck, she moans as she rides out her high, lulled by your rhythmical thrusts.

The beating of your hearts syncs, she can hear the blood and pollen rush through your body, feel the burning heat of your body transfer over to her and seep into her skin laced with sweat.

It hits you suddenly and you slam your hips forward, spurting your seething load into her tight cunt that robs you, the base of your mound inflating, locking you inside her pulsing pussy.

“T-too much! There’s… there’s too much…”

The load of your orgasm fills her, slightly bloating her fertile womb until she could have fooled you she was already pregnant.

“A–ahh! What… what was that?” she asks. You can hear the grit in her confused words. “The knot,” you answer beneath a deep chuckle, slowing your thrusts until you’re grinding slowly into her.

From the way you purr, low in content, she figures that you both will be sharing this moment for quite some time until the knot deflates. Pulling her lip between her teeth, she bites the bullet with a deep breath.

“Are the rumours true?”

She hears nothing but she feel something. Gone is the warm, silky and rain drenched fur, replaced by skin. Your lips that she finds difficult to ignore whenever you’re so much in the same room as her, incapable of keeping her eyes from trailing down to them. They caress her skin delicately.

“Rumours?” She can hear the test in your tone of voice. She huffs quietly.

“That you have a thing for me.”

Wanda remains to wait for your answer. Her skin tingles from the way she feels your lips turn upwards into a smile. “I do. I’m down bad for you.”

She giggles at your playful undertone. “Are you sure that’s not just a cold from being out in the cold rain?”

“Nope. If I’m coming down with anything, it’s you, little Lamb.”

#treehouse taglist #werewolf reader #gn reader #female reader #male reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x werewolf! reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader smut #wanda smut #mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch

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defectivefanboy · 1 year

Note

Hi darling! How are you? How have you been? Sorry for bothering, I wanted to request! You really write very well and keep up with the good work! So anyways.. Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their girlfriend wear a lingerie?

Thank you so much! Have a lovely day/night!!

　　　∧_∧::

(´･ω･`)::

/⌒ ⌒)::

/へ_＿ / /::

(＿＼＼ﾐ)/::

｜ `-イ::

/ )::

/／／::

／／::

( く:::

|＼ヽ:::

Imma go ahead and ignore that icky word that's in there and make it S/O because I want to write Alastor. Here is my request page for anyone who wants to in the future. Please take a read before you come into my inbox :D

Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their [REDACTED] wearing lingerie?

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and while I don't mind female readers on my blog/interacting, love my girlies, hey girlies~, but I do not write female reader, and if you are a fetishizer. fuck off??? ew. How would you even do that on an x reader???

C/W: NSFW topics, Each character will have their own respective warnings, Sexual content, duh, no pronouns used, Bottom! reader favored, Established relationships. OOC?, I mean this would never happen, so yeah ooc

Notes: the giggle I had to stop when I got to Alastor good god, but Lucifer was honestly the funniest and most enjoyable to write. I had a smile on my face the whole time

Crimson ♧︎...

C/W: Slight Voyeurism (mention of his right hand man Alessio), Degradation, he def has a sir kink, don't lie to me, mention of stealing/sugarbaby (hes an asshole) mention of stalkers? admirers?? idk he just mentions people leaving you gifts,

For being an old (mafia) man. He's not opposed to a little dress up

Only if its you though. He would NEVER

He would be into something with a little more class.

Never will his darling look like some 2 cent floozy

So none of that crotchless bull honky. While he wouldn't be mad at it, he would rather leave more to the imagination. Something to work for, y'know?

And he would certainly work for it.

You really wanna get him going? Accentuate your hips. That's something him and Moxxie can agree. They like their darling with a little bit of width~

If you are gonna wear something for him, you best put on a show while you're at it.

He waits to do business after dinner, so why not let him enjoy his meal

For an asshole he has some manners now

Always making you cum once or twice before even taking your outfit off.

It likes to wait before unwrapping his gift <3

But once he gets more accustom to your interest

He's definitely going to be the one buying you the set

well its his money that's being used, Al is the one who goes and picked them up. Poor baby...

"You're so needy, baby. But did you need to go and make yourself out to be a whore in the middle of a meeting?" Crimson said as he placed a hand on your waist. His desk might not be the most comfortable place, but it will do for now. It's not like he can ignore you when you got all dolled up for him.

"I don't remember buying this one. Alessio leaving you gifts now too?" His fingers slid under the thin fabric as you let out a soft whine before answering, "I got them,.. custom made, sir." you said, trying to steady your breathing as his hands wandered between your legs. You let out a yelp as he spreads your legs out more for himself.

"And where are you getting this money from, huh? Hope you're not stealing it from me, brat." He gives you a soft glare and a questioning look as his eyes scan over the fabric that covered you, before his spotted the embroidered 'C. Knolastname' on the front of the waist band. With his index finger and thumb, he hooked them around the band and traced the deigned. Crimson gives you a smirk and placed a kiss right under your belly button before moving down.

"Hmm... maybe i do have a use for that ring then after all, but i should repay this favor before hand. Right, (Y/n) Knolastname?"

Lucifer 𓅰...

C/W: light choking, another one with a superiority kink, mentions of god (he calls himself it), size kink for the fact I thought this man was like 5'8-10 come to look up his like 6'2-3, slight crack fic (because he wouldn't take anything seriously until truly needed, he giggles when you change in front of him, it's always a crack fic with him)

HE HAS A MATCHING SET!!

god how my perception of these characters have been warped

but he has most definitely bought you outfits before, probably the only one to go out of his way to get matching ones.

Even got a few custom ones made, you can always tell by the little duck embroidered somewhere on them.

He's game for anything you wanna wear. He isn't gonna stop you, if anything he's gonna encourage you to wear more.

He's helpless for you in such a pretty outfit and it's all for him?

He feels loved and he's sure to pay that back ten fold in the bedroom.

You might not allowed to be in heaven, but he can show you what it was like~

I maaay..be a bit delusional, but in private I feel like he's all giggly and shit.

Oh an he definitely was the first time you pulled this from your hat of tricks.

Almost a little to giggly i'd sat, to think the ruler of hell would be this flustered over an article of clothing is beyond me

But once he starts to become use to it. He starts to expect it. What? He is the king of Hell after all.

And he truly expects to be treated like one. (He's a brat when he doesn't get attention)

Be it sinner, hell-born, or even the 'perfect OC/that everyone loves who is half angel half devil/stronger then god/etc' he's gonna ask you one thing constantly...

"Please, my angel of death? Just one time, for me? Then i'll never ask again. Promise."

"I'm not wearing a duck tail while you fuck me. When- Where in hell did you even get these made?" you asked as you held up the pair of yellow lingerie with a duck tail sown on the back of the waist band.

"You shouldn't need to worry about that, my love. All you need to worry about is wearing them for me." He said with a light sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, a soft smile resting on his face.

"Again, I am not. fucking. wearing. them, you prick-!" As soon as you got the name out you felt yourself against the wall. The soft smile gone from Lucifer's face as a dark look pooled in his eyes, an unsettling stare never leaving yours. Before you could apologize, his hand wrapped around throat, his index finger pushed your face up to his as he spoke with a low voice.

Almost like that cheery devil was just a front...

"Oh, how far from grace you have fallen, my dear. Seems you already forgotten your god. But that's no trouble at all, for tonight..." His grip on your neck got tighter as he got closer to your ear and a sinister smile made itself at home upon his pale face. Y'know, you really only notice how big he is when he gets like this... oh that wasn't a complaint. Not when his presence alone encaged you against the wall, let alone the possessive grip that he had on you.

"I'll teach you how to praise my name once again."

Alastor 𐂂...

C/W: Teasing, sadly abo mention, WHY ARE YOU BOOING ME I AM RIGHT, blood mentions, possessive behaviors, light choking, mentions of cannabalism, duh, playing more into the abo, uhm, sniffing? idfk leave me alone its late. oh ft: a guest at the end.

Another man with class, just not as much. I mean, come on, he's still a sinner~

though when you present yourself to him in your outfit, he can't help, but raise a brow as he tried to keep down his smile at the sight.

Definitely a big tease, a BIG tease

Especially when you look so cute for him, squirming under his indifferent gaze. Oh how he wants to squeeze your cheeks and leave you begging for release~

He's also one for a game of cat and mouse.

so when you go out into town with him make sure to slip his favorite pair of lingerie under your clothes

And if you're one wear revealing clothes, then I hope you're ready for a possessive (and bloody) overlord, ad pray for anyone who thinks they can touch you, let alone come near you.

oh AND OHHHH wanna know how you really got him? How you really got to him??? When the static cuts out and that Louisiana drawl' comes out of him. (I would die. again.)

(If I say he has a rut would that be considered A/b/o? I mean he is a deer demon, same with other demons in a similar case)

but WHOOO WEE

for someone who normally has a distaste for touch that isn't initiated by him, He'll enjoy a night or two (on the rare occasion) where he lets you indulge yourself

though, do be careful now, he's a gentleman up and foremost, but he's not always a patient man at that. He's always willing to return the favor tenfold~

And if you already couldn't tell, he loves the color red, basically lives in it. So it's safe to it sets something off in him

be the cannibal in him, or maybe he just likes the color a little too much

but at the end of it you'll more marked up then a rough draft <3

"Bless your heart, Dear. Did you think I wouldn't notice... your little getup? His clawed fingers trailed your sides as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. His frame trapping you in your seat and god, would it be terrifying for any mere sinner in this position, if it wasn't for the playful twitch of his ear that told you otherwise. Someone was enjoying this more then he let on...

It wasn't the first time you had teased him in public, but it was the first time people really had the courage to come talk to you. To give the poor souls benefit of the doubt, you were just sat at the bar talking to husk. Though, you would also think the red pinstripe outfit and microphone that rested at your side gave itself away.

"And it seems i'm not the only one. Now, if I were to kill everyone in this god forsaken hotel. Whose fault would that be, hm?" A clawed hand made it's way around your throat as it softly pulled you back, letting him have full access to your neck. Burying his face in your neck, he took in a deep breathe as static radiated off him.

"Or maybe I should have you for a meal tonight. You do smell quite... appetizing, my darling. Such a shame I have to ruin that pretty little outfit of yours." Before you could even gasp a grumbling and angry voice rang out, bringing you both back into reality.

"Can you two not fuck at my bar please? You are just as bad as that damn spider."

"Oh of course Husker! We'll get out of your fur right now actually! Wasn't like these pathetic things were going to get a taste of you anyways."

#foolish writing #request #request open #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x male reader #alastor x gn reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #helluva boss crimson #helluva crimson #crimson knolastname #helluva boss crimson x reader #crimson x reader #crimson x male reader

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yourlocalstranger123 · 9 months

Note

Hello may I request a yandere Imbibitor Lunae (From HSR) with a reader who is a writer and very lazy doesn't mind getting kidnapped as long as the reader (You could pick the gender if u could a male) can write and very flirty and openly affectionate

Take care ❤

I'm not actually sure what you meant, but I'm just guessing that you'd prefer me doing a male so ima do it <3 of course, there isn't much details/words saying out-loud the reader is male so it can still be seen as any gender!

《 I am so sorry if you just wanted full fluff and ur a minor. If you do not feel comfortable with the pictures at the end, I don't mind taking it down!! Again, IM SO SORRY IF U DO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE (つд；*) 》

Warning!: Kidnapping?, ofc yandere theme, broken stuff, stalking, containment, blood, murder, also slight sexual themes under the 2nd set of pictures(aka the mostly sussy one)

MINORS DNI Unless you are okay seeing some slight sexual themes. It's not fully smut, so it's okay rn.

A/N: I will still put gn, female, male reader tags but if you think that the reader is too manly or smt, I'll change it. And sorry if I used wrong tags ALSO ARTIST CREDIT IS AT THE END (except for the official art bc it's og from hsr so)

Info for reader's figure: SORRY IF U DIDN'T WANT THE MALE(or any gender since it doesn't clarify that the reader is a male) READER TO BE TALLER AND IG SLIGHTLY LARGER? IM SORRY. (´д｀|||)

–◇{Imbibitor Lunae}◇–

You simply went out for groceries. Buying some decent ingredients to make food. As you were walking back to your house, you felt someone was watching you. Looking around to see no one's eyes looked at you, you simply shrugged off the feeling and walked home tiredly. (If you had a sharp eye, you would've seen horns and a tail sticking out behind a tree....suprised that no one saw him)

You put the ingredients in the fridge, not feeling like eating dinner today. Yawning as you simply flopped down onto the bed, not even bothering to change clothes. As your eyes finally close as you drift off to sleep, you feel a figure hovering over you. But of course, you didn't get up since it was soooo comfy. Who wants to get off of bed when they FINALLY get a comfortable position to sleep.

So the figure took its advantage and....held your hand-? You feel the figure holding both of their hands to hold yours. You started to feel a bit uneasy. Maybe this is just a dream! Surely it is... you felt the other side of the bed droop as the weight of the person was on it. You can feel them trying to snuggle into your embrace, hearing them hesitantly sigh in delight as they get closer in contact.

This must be a very strange but nice dream..... The next morning, you sat up and stretched out your arms, then remembering that strange "dream" you experienced. Quickly turned your head to the other side of the bed, and you found nothing. Perhaps it was just a realistic dream! Surely no one broke into your house without any traces or not even do anything bad!(yet)

You heard something crashing, quickly running out of your room. You see a bunch of shattered plates, glasses, a broken chair, and....He even dropped the books you hard-workingly wrote on! Is he serious?! You went up to the figure, seeing his eyes widen, but you didn't care. You started lightly scolding him for breaking your books! Now you have to write the whole thing again!(the book wasn't totally a fan fiction, lmao)

His face clearly showed confusion as you continued lightly scolding him. Seeing his tail slightly droop, you stopped and sighed. Forgiving him, you were about to wave him off until you felt his tail wrapping around your leg before he crossed his arms. Frowning(pouting) at you and refused to let you go. You were about to try to get out of his grasp to re-organize the books that fell, but you soon felt dizzy, passing out before you felt him hugging you.

You found yourself in a locked room(his room?) with chains that were tied onto the bed to restrict you going too far. You heard footsteps as you saw a head with horns peeking out of the doorway, then the figure finally showed himself. (why dies he have blood on him?)

You could see him hesitating but soon let himself lay his head on your lap. Tilting his head up to look at you, quietly asking what you want for breakfast. (he's quite cute even though he had blood on him, and the blood is slightly smearing on your shirt and pants) You simply ask for an apple.

He tilted his head in confusion, asking you again, what PROPER breakfast meal do you want. (Yeah, you should get a proper meal. You know who you are) You said again, an apple. He sighed and regrettably had to leave your warmth to give you an apple. (Why weren't you mad at him? Aren't you scared that he kidnapped you?)

Before he left the door, you asked him to give you a pen or pencil and a paper if he could. Which he complied and did, only sitting beside you and watching you write a story down. But as he tried to read it, you covered his face and put away the paper. He tried to move your hands, but when he did, he felt you kiss his forehead. He quickly scooted away, trying to process what had just happened. You kissed him???.....That means you love him, right? It has to be!

You could see the blush forming around his face and neck. Hearing you chuckle made him even blush more. "Oh my, you're red as a tomato!!" You said, slightly laughing. He becomes more embarrassed but so delighted because you love him! Surely, you even kissed him on his forehead! You won't go, you won't leave him or hate him.....right..? He held your hand, hoping for more affection from you. Seeking it, desiring it, needing it

Timeskip:

"Mine..." he mumbles as he snuggles against your palm. He shudders and lets out a soft sigh when you touch his horns. Rubbing the base of his horns, he watches you enjoy touching his horns as you smile. You were about to retract your hand, but he grabbed your wrist and begged for more of your affection and warmth.

Not wanting to let go of you, he wrapped his tail around your body and tightly hugged you in place. He looked so adorable when he frowns(pouts) as he looked up at you. You couldn't resist teasing him,

You held his chin and went closer to his lips. Which in return, his face becomes red as his thoughts explode and are scattered everywhere. He shuts his eyes, waiting for you to kiss him.....but you didn't. He opened his eyes after hearing you chuckle. How mean! You didn't give him a kiss :(

His face was full of shock and disappointment. He desperately tried to get a kiss from you, tugging your sleeve he politely asks for one. He was still satisfied when you smothered his face with kisses(except for the lips, sadly) he flinched when he felt your hands petting his tail. Covering his own mouth from letting out pleasurable sighs.

"You have such beautiful scales." You said, softly picking up the tail closer to your face and kissing it, making him feel flustered. You stared at the fluff on the end of his tail, so you softly pet it too. "It's quite fluffy and soft, I feel like I'm in some sort of paradise," you slightly laughed at the statement you made.

He retracts his tail, and he suddenly rips out a scale from it. He hissed at the pain but soon held both of your hands and put the scale onto it. It was a token of his love. "I would do anything for you to prove my love, even if I have to get my hands dirty, even if I have to injure myself too. So please love me back," He begs. His sanity and life are in your hands. You were still shocked and concerned as he said this. Hearing you sigh, he panicked. Did he do something wrong? He's sorry! Please forgive him, he'll try his best to fix it! :(

He becomes putty in your hands, letting you bandage his tail (although it was a bit hard since his tail was thrashing around as he was very happy for some reason.) You kissed the injury on his tail, making him tilt his head in wonder and blush....

Soon, he lets you out of the room and even outside! Of course not without him. He glares daggers into people. If his stare could kill people, the whole world wouldn't even exist. He was about to kill the merchant that touched your hand! How dare they touch you?! (Poor merchant was trying to give you a sample of food)

And he kills the people who try to flirt with you and dispose of their corpse. He comes home all bloody as you scold him. You had to take HOURS to wash the blood off of him. And it's even worse when it got on the fur of his tail! (One time, he whimpered and moaned by accident when you scrubbed his horns and tail....didn't appear for a whole week unless u were going outside)

But he becomes sooooo flustered when you flirt with him and especially in public. (He thought you were showing people that he was yours....I mean, I can't say it's not true)

He always whines and begs if you don't give him your attention and affection. And of course, all of your love within 2 minutes. And if you don't, you'll have to comfort him that you do love him because he starts over-thinking that you don't anymore or he has done something wrong.

He was getting some empty books for you to write on until he found a book with the exact same writing.....(he may or may have bought it) he definitely bought it. He read the whole context, and whenever you were near him lately, his face turned redder than red itself! (The book was about you and him love life)

Oh, how he loves you.....he wonders how you'll react when he gives you the heart of the person you hate..well, he won't do it now until marriage.

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kaeyx · 3 months

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Kinktober day 23: tentacles + ovi + Fyodor

Pairing: Mer!Fyodor X afab!gn!reader [3k]

Warnings: smut, monsterfucking, oviposition, breeding(?), overstimulation, cervix fucking, tentacles, I mention reader's tits a lot for someone who hates his own, clit sucking, nipple pain

Additional notes: Remember kinktober? Haha, yeah. Anyway, emphasis on the fact that this focuses on the female aspects of the reader, there's especially a lot of mention of their breasts. Fyodor is not named.

It drags you under before you even have time to scream.

Water rushing around you, ears popping painfully, struggling uselessly as something much, much larger and stronger pulls you through the salty depths. This is it, you're going to die here. Your throat burns, your foggy mind fighting the instinct to gasp in a huge mouthful of air because you know there's none to find.

Just as you give up something throws you out of the water, your head spinning, arms reaching out for purchase. There's salt in your eyes, your nose, your throat, making you cough and hack. It's a cave, and your feet don't touch the bottom. You float there, observing the surroundings, listening to the eerie quiet that's only broken by dripping water and your own tiny, insignificant splashes. Strangely enough you can just about manage to see through the darkness, the black rocks of the cave lit up from below.

From.... below?

You look between your kicking legs and scream, making a break for the edge of the cave. Something silent and huge is circling underfoot, not even cutting the water as it moves, skin glowing so brightly that it lights up the room. There's no time for you to escape, your puny human limbs not adapted to the water even though your panicked movements make you fast.

A long, flexible limb wraps around your ankle and sneaks up your calf, dragging you back to the centre of the cave despite your frantic kicking and scratching. Your nails slide right off the rubbery skin and another limb, another tentacle, grabs hold of your other leg and also holds it still. More of them snake around your hips, your waist, your arms and then finally the creature rears its head out of the black water.

It's a man. Sort of, anyway. Heavy lidded violet eyes with slit pupils regard you with interest, hair as black as oil falling around his face and shoulders. Thin lips and brows and a delicate nose, three huge slits on either side of his neck. Gills. He looks thin, skin so pale you can see blue veins pulsing across his chest, narrow shoulders and hips and a boney torso. Instead of legs his hips give way to a huge, bulbous sort of growth out of which come numerous limbs. Long, thick, wriggling tentacles, a beautiful midnight blue that almost seems to blend with the surrounding darkness, churning the water beneath and lifting you up effortlessly. You tug again, and it does nothing.

He leans closer and you freeze in fear, going rigid. The creature presses a hand against your chest and you realise his hands are webbed, so are his ears. He seems to be feeling out your heartbeat, fluttering wildly in your ribcage. Whatever he finds, he seems satisfied with it. His other hand also goes to your chest and you try to raise your arms to push him away, but are met with thick coils around your wrists that weigh you down.

"Hey, hey!" You say sharply, making the man raise his head. "What are you doing?"

He looks unimpressed, and ignores the question entirely. His hands are boney, spidery, almost human, as cold as the sea itself. They squeeze your sides and prod your stomach while the tentacles raise you so you're hip to eye with the creature and he can get a better look. You're squirming, uncomfortable, but he pays no notice and just feels your hips out, seemingly also satisfied with them.

Tentacles begin to move over you with more purpose now, sliding up your legs and around your shoulders, wriggling under the edges of your swimsuit as you balk and scream obscenities. Your voice echoes off the walls but the man is unfazed, getting under the fabric covering you until it's bulging ridiculously, slimy limbs surrounding your torso. One of the horrid things forces itself into your mouth, hooking its tip into your jaw before sliding down your throat until you can barely breathe, muffling your noises.

All of them flex at once and your swimsuit rips at the seams, falling to the water in tatters. Two deft tentacles circle your chest, weighing your tits and squeezing them curiously. You yell around the appendage in your mouth, kicking your legs and trying to slap them away, to cover yourself up; but the fat, squirming limbs are as strong as they are flexible. The man they're attached to looks on with a sinister sort of satisfaction on his face, grinning as your breasts are pressed together and kneaded. Your choked insults are simply answered with a few clicks and pops from him before he reaches out and pinches your nipple, tugging on it painfully and ignoring your fruitless struggle.

...Something strange is happening, gradually pressing against the edges of your consciousness. The slick coating his tentacles soaks into your skin, leaving a cool, almost tingling sensation as they writhe and constrict. The one deep in your throat is wriggling, teasing your gag reflex and making you swallow around it, something almost salty sliding deep into your stomach and muddling your senses. The smooth, powerful motions almost feel like a hug, and the suckling and squeezing is causing heat to pool shamefully in your stomach. Your wide eyes meet his and he stares back with a facsimile of a smile on his face, something too wide and stiff and full of teeth. Something intelligent. His human half is bent over you while the animal portion keeps coiling around you, exploring every inch of skin.

His hand shoots out and grabs your jaw, a move that could be almost tender if it wasn't for the strength of his grip, the vicious way his claws curl around your face. He seems to be almost pretending, imitating the gesture. Violet eyes peer into your own, watching as you gag and struggle weakly, glittering with curiosity and a tinge of malice. This thing knows what's happening. He can feel your struggle getting weaker as your limbs grow heavy, eyelids dropping. You're suddenly very aware of the icy water and the slick glide of those thick limbs against your bare skin, the ones around your hips, the ones attaching themselves to your inner thighs with vicious suckers, pulling your legs apart in midair. You thrash weakly, a fly caught in a spiderweb, looking into the monster's eyes and finding no sympathy.

The suckers on your thighs tighten, making you mewl against your will. It almost feels like you're drunk, pins and needles running all over your numb skin, each movement of the tentacles making you shudder. The man's eyes narrow, looking satisfied with your reaction and your defeated expression. He creeps closer to you, and that's when you finally notice the cocks between his legs. Two of them, dyed the same deep shade as his tentacles and bobbing menacingly, their tapered heads already leaking in anticipation. The top one is oddly swollen at the base, almost flushed, bulging with…. something. You try to struggle, but by this point you're so wrapped up in the monster's limbs that you can't move at all. And whatever has happened to your body is making you embarrassingly eager to know more about the intimidating appendages, your entire consciousness narrowing down to how painfully empty you feel and how big and inviting his cocks look. They're far bigger than any human ever could be, and he seems to have noticed you staring because he smirks, one of his hands wrapping around the top one and stroking it slowly. You can't help but moan around the tentacle in your mouth, but only a strangled gurgle comes out.

The man seems to accept this, rubbing the tip of one of the dicks against your cunt. It's cold, and he doesn't waste any time in forcing it in. You scream as best you can, trying to thrash around as the thick appendage invades your walls, stretching you painfully and bumping right against your cervix. He looks so smug, as if he can feel the mixture of pain and pleasure running through your veins right now and how it's clouding your senses. He starts moving immediately, and to your horror you discover you're so wet that it doesn't even hurt, the thick girth dragging smoothly along your walls as he sets a quick, steady pace.

His other dick is rubbing against your ass with every thrust, pulsing and leaking against your skin and lighting every one of your nerves on fire. The tentacles don't help, groping your hips and arms and tits hard enough to hurt, suckling mercilessly on your nipples as you're split open on the creature’s cock. He seems to have angled his tip perfectly so that it hits your cervix every time, making you twitch in pain. Slowly, with every thrust, the tight ring of muscle is beginning to open up and let his cock pierce right through to your womb.

The tentacle in your mouth retreats and you choke on your spit, trying to cry out and gasp for breath at the same time. The creature's eyes never leave your face, and you swear he looks even more pleased with himself as tears begin to pour down your face. You can't even think about crying for help, you can barely think at all, your mind too addled by the delicious stretch of your walls. The tentacle that was just in your mouth smears a warm mess of slime and your own drool across your cheek and chest, adding to the overstimulation as it cools on your skin. You can taste salt every time you gasp for air.

Something squirms over your cunt and you cry out in shock and arousal as another tentacle fastens itself onto your clit, beginning to suck gently. The stimulation makes your cunt leak even more, clenching painfully around the thick girth splitting you in two. The man hisses, stilling for a second as a particularly harsh spasm makes you too tight to let him move. His violet eyes are glued to your pussy, to the way it swallows his cock with every thrust. It's milking him so nicely. He puts one of his hands on your lower stomach, drawing his hips back slowly and leaving you clenching around nothing, before slamming back in brutally fast. You howl in pain, trying uselessly to kick him away, but your cry quickly melts into a whimper as the sucker on your clit begins to work its magic again.

Your walls are pulsing and there's a telltale heat swirling low in your stomach. Through your shudders and the squirmy mess of arms assaulting every inch of bare skin, you notice that the man's head is bowed and his long, spindly hands are on your hips. The tendrils begin to move erratically, jerking and twitching across your body, countless suckers fastening onto your skin and making it sting all over. He's close, and to your lingering embarrassment so are you, even with the pain from your tender cervix being pried apart and a far too big cock stretching you out.

Your eyes unfocus and the cold, slimy tip of a tentacle prods your tongue as your mouth falls open. You feel a powerful spasm in your cunt, the creature's cock pulsing rhythmically and almost seeming to swell a little. To your confusion and horror, the tapered head is lodged deep into your womb, prying your cervix open just enough to make space, and you can't move away. Something strange is happening, an alien sensation invading your womb as the monster clutches your shoulders tight and his hips twitch, messy, clearly pushing something into you. His pretty violet eyes are shut tight, dark hair sticking to his cheeks as he leans in close. It feels almost romantic, you think, the notion breaking through your addled brain. That would have terrified you a few minutes before, but now you can't bring yourself to care even as your tummy swells with an unknown, bumpy substance, something almost jelly like. Your orgasm crashes into you almost without warning, setting all your nerves alight despite the concern of your swelling stomach, making you moan loudly. It echoes in the damp cave, your own cry coming back to you amidst all the lewd slaps of skin on skin.

As you tip your head back and whine, shaking with the aftershocks, the creature pumps his hips a few times to finish draining himself into you. One of his hands presses lightly on the bump, massaging it in circles. An odd chirp comes from his mouth, and he pulls out without a warning. You shudder, empty cunt clenching uselessly, suddenly feeling too empty and yet oddly full. There's no time for confusion though, because when you look down you're met with the sight of the monster gripping his second cock, the first one lying on his stomach and contrasting beautifully with his pale skin.

The second one is thinner but no less impressive, and missing the swollen knot the first one had. He wastes no time sheathing himself inside you, but he doesn't move just yet. You groan, confused, peering at the creature to see what he's doing, but he pays you no mind. Your walls are tender and his swift pace makes you flinch, letting out a quiet sob that he ignores. He seems to be panting hard, resting while buried deep in your cunt after that initial stroke. His tentacles are mostly still, twitching occasionally but keeping you steady in midair.

Cold hands find your breasts, the monster’s boney fingers pinching your nipples cruelly. You yelp, trying to pull your arms free so you can hit him, but of course nothing happens. He looks up, still panting, and smiles. He's slightly red, his once pale cheeks now a soft pink. It does little to soften the cruel glee on his face, the sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips, the cold water dripping down his hair and over his shoulders. He squeezes the tender buds again and you groan, pussy clenching involuntarily. To your dismay the monster makes a sound similar to a purr, clicking his tongue and pulling harshly on your tits. He likes to see you in pain, or maybe he likes the way you twitch and tighten around him, milking him.

Slowly, carefully, he begins to thrust into you, shallow moves that drag his heavy cock against your abused insides. Every time he bottoms out you get your nipples pinched painfully hard, forcing your cunt to tighten around him and making him growl and chirp in obvious satisfaction. The muscles in your abdomen spasm with his movements, your head tossing from side to side. Every steady thrust jolts you in the tentacles’ grip, your skin still buzzing from whatever the creature had rubbed into you, but you dimly notice one of the tentacles slithering back up to your clit.

It sneaks under the hood and fastens directly onto the tender nub, sucking and pulling harshly enough to make you wail in a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation. Of course this makes you clench and the monster groan, his thrusts speeding up and becoming more forceful, the tip of his cock ramming against your cervix as he angles his hips just right. He's not really pulling on your nipples anymore, instead grabbing hard onto your chest to support himself as his human half curls into you, his teeth almost grazing your cheek. The man's breath is cold, uneven, he's slowly angling your hips up so that your legs are over his hips, dangling uselessly.

You close your eyes, hands balling up into fists as his pace stutters and the slimy tendrils holding you up go stiff and tighten. The squeeze almost hurts but it's overshadowed by the feeling of his cock stilling deep inside you and twitching powerfully, right before a strange warmth floods your lower stomach. A final harsh suck from the tentacle fastened to your clit makes you cum again, your vision whiting out as all you go rigid in his grip. The waves of release coupled with his cum swelling your your womb is overwhelming, more intense than anything you've experienced in your life. The man makes a strange, choked off sound, almost a moan, resting his forehead against you collarbone as his hips roll a few more times, then still.

Dazed, you let yourself go limp in his hold, only managing a tired groan when he slowly pulls out of you. Your stomach feels bloated and tender, your cunt drooling, slowly letting some of the creature’s cum slip out. He squeezes your tits one last time, churning the water beneath you as he moves you to the edge of the cave and leaves you on a ledge. The stone is cold and wet, way too hard after the squishy, yielding grip of his tentacles. Violet eyes observe you with satisfaction, cold hands palm the bump in your tummy and slip quickly into your cunt before retreating. You press one of your own hands, weak and shaky, against the taut skin and feel a strange bumpiness. Eggs, you realise. Like frogspawn, but larger and firm enough that you can just about feel them if you press down hard. Your mind is too sluggish to process the information, so you just rub the spot in a bit of a haze while keeping an eye on the monster. His human half is out of the water, supported on pale, skinny arms while he watches you intently.

Your hand drops with a sigh. You feel…. tired, cold, uncomfortably full in a way you're not used to. The monster gives you a quick once over, from your slack face to your gaping, messy cunt, tracing your stomach one last time. He slips into the sea without a sound, and vanishes in the dark water.

#fyodor.bsd #fyodor x reader #sea monster fyodor x reader #mer!fyodor #fyodor smut #fyodor x y/n #shout out to Flora bc reading that first bit of your series gave me the push i needed to finish this #mer fyodor #kinktober 2023

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simping-overload · 2 months

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ᴀ ᴛɪᴇꜰʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴀɪʟ - ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴꜱ

a/n: halsin with baby fever <3 make this man a daddy

tags: halsin, he wants kids so bad. gn reader, zevlor cameo, just fluff.

『read on ao3』

synopsis: Halsin watches as you interact with the children of the Grove.

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

The festival was bustling, children ran around and played whilst the adults drank the evening away. Bards sing their songs by the fire, occasionally starting sing-alongs.

Halsin sat separately, in a smaller, quieter corner, leaning against a wall as he watched over the party, making sure things won’t get too rowdy.

His gaze wonders over the crowd, looking for a familiar face before he lands on you. Sitting down on the ground and making flower crowns with the children. A child places one on top of your head, mindful of the horns.

The children braid and weave flowers along your tail and horns. Maybe at the right angle, you’d look like a statue wrapped in overgrown vines and plants.

Seeing you interact with the children stirs an all too familiar feeling in his chest, his desire for children of his own. Whether adopted or somehow biological, he wants ones of his own.

To see and hear the pitter patter of their tiny feet thumping against the wooden floor of your cozy home. Teaching them how to cook, clean, and maybe, if they wished, he can teach them the ways of the druids.

He’s already accustomed to the cries and screaming of children. Over the long years he has been alive, it’s safe to say he already knows how to handle it, especially when he took over as Arch druid of the Grove.

As much as he wants children, he doesn’t know if you wanted them. You never gave any indication if you did or didn’t.

Halsin tears his eyes away from you when he feels a nudge on his side. He turns his head, locking eyes with the person. It was Zevlor, a good friend of his.

“Something on your mind, Halsin?” The tiefling leader asks.

“Its—it’s not something to get into now, but how are you, friend?” Halsin tries to deflect the conversation away from him.

Zevlor raises a brow. “I’m well. The party is a bit more crowded than expected. Aside from that, don’t you dare try to change the topic. You’ve spent enough time of your life hiding your issues and feelings. Speak, my friend. I’m all ears.” Zevlor takes a sip of his wine.

“Do you think Tav and I would be good parents?” He suddenly blurts out, shoulders tensing at what he just said.

Zevlor grins. “I think you’d be one of the best parents in Faerûn.”

Halsin smiles at this, looking away from his friend and back at you.

“Though I would recommend waiting. Maybe a few years after the fame from your adventures, die down, and when you finally settle down. Did you ask them yet?”

Halsin chuckles nervously, “Well. No. I was waiting for a good time, but that moment never came.”

Zevlor huffed at this, smacking the druid’s calf with his tail. “Go ask.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Gods know you probably wouldn’t ask for another year! And look, they’re already on their way.. I’ll leave you to it.” Zevlor pats Halsin on the shoulder before slipping off.

Halsin watches as you approach, and by the Oak father, you look divine. The bear in him just wanted to ravish you more than and there. He pushes the feeling away as he pulls you into his warm embrace.

You wrap your arms around him, curling into him as you soak in his comforting warmth. Pulling back slightly, you look at your lover, adoration laced in your expression.

“Hi love.”

“Hello, my heart. I see you had quite the time for the children.” He brings a hand to the flower crown that lies on your head.

You chuckle, nodding, “Yeah, it got a little out of control.” You gesture to your tail. It had all kinds of flowers laced together covering it.

With a fond smile, he gently caresses your cheek with his hand. Pulling you forward, and presses a loving kiss to your lips. He faintly tastes like honeycomb and tobacco.

You shut your eyes, falling into the kiss. Getting lost in the sensation of his lips on yours.

He reluctantly pulls away when the need for air becomes too strong. He settles to rest his foreheads against yours, looking into your eyes with a longing your’re oh-so familiar with. You can see his eyes flicker with uncertainty. It seems he’s having an internal conflict with himself.

“What’s on your mind, Halsin?” You ask, cupping his face in your palms so he can’t turn away.

He sucks in a breath before letting the words flow from his lips. “I have something to ask of you.”

#bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate x reader #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 halsin #bg3 halsin x reader #halsin silverbough x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 halsin x tav #halsin x reader

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writeyouin · 4 months

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X GN-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - I Don't Need You

A/N – Since the first chapter got comments and actual reblogs, surprise, surprise, I was motivated to continue. See, Tumblr? This is how it works. I respond to instant validation.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEMALE VERSION HERE

MALE VERSION HERE

You looked around the dusty hallway that comprised the main entrance to Lucifer’s manor. Yikes, Charlie was right; he really did need a cleaner. You doubted that was her main motivation for placing you in her father’s care but looking at the layers of thick dust and brimstone coating downstairs, you could see it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Lucifer watched you sceptically. Ideally, he would have liked to leave you to find your own way around, but he didn’t want to be accused of not trying by Charlie, should you call her and state that Lucifer was straight up ignoring you.

With that in mind, he bade you to follow him with a wave of his arm and gave you a half-arsed tour of each room, during which he would energetically state its name, and occasionally pepper in a fact if he felt like it and then hurry along.

“Parlor one, dining room, parlour two, library, parlour the… you know what, we have a lot of those, if you see a room with chairs and a fireplace, assume it’s a parlour. Moving on, bathroom, closet, like the parlour situation, there are lots of bathrooms and closets. Kitchen, which is always stocked by the way, so I don’t have to shop,” He muttered a sentence about the Hell of going out there, and then he was back to his bubbly self, rushing you through the rest of the tour, “Games room, spa, my room – don’t go in there – and here, among the unnecessary number of bedrooms, is your room.”

Although every room in the manor was lavish by Hell’s standards, Lucifer had sneakily pre-worked a bit of his magic to make yours somewhat undesirable. It was still large and had all the fixings, but now, it was dirty, damp, and there would always be an underlying scent of slightly rotten milk, that was just noticeable to annoy anyone, yet not something so offensive that he could be blamed for causing it.

The now slightly squalid room wasn’t Lucifer’s way of being petty and cruel; it was just that he wanted you to leave, and that would only happen if you had a reason to. You should go back to the Hotel where you belonged; better yet, you should just head to a different part of Hell where neither he nor his daughter would have to look at your disgustingly human face… A face that, though nothing like Lilith’s, reminded Lucifer of his wife since there was nobody else even remotely like her except for their daughter and now, unfortunately, you.

The simple fact of the matter was that Lucifer was just waiting for you to start demanding things of him, or Charlie. It would likely start with something small, like changing rooms, then if he gave you an inch, you would take a mile, and soon you would demand he use his Angelic Powers to serve you in seemingly impossible ways.

One way or another, the room was a test. You would either see it and leave in search of greener pastures or a better deal elsewhere, leeching off whoever would give you the time of day, or you would stay and start giving orders; either way, Lucifer would be able to return to his daughter with proof that sinners were the problem, not him.

You stepped into the room, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust that made you sneeze.

After a minute, you turned to Lucifer, “Thank you for the room. It’s lovely.”

Lucifer held back a grimace as you had the audacity to smile at him.

“Great,” He replied in a strained tone, “Just perfect. So, I’ll uh, leave you to get settled in and-”

Just then a portal opened over the canopy bed and two packed suitcases landed there, courtesy of Charlie. Lucifer tasted his daughter’s magic in the air and sighed resignedly; whatever Charlie had planned she wasn’t backing down from what she likely thought was a good idea.

“Right on time,” Lucifer commended the fine timing of his daughter, and even though he was clearly uncomfortable with her plan to give him company, he did seem genuinely proud of her expert timing; then again, he was proud of anything she chose to do even if he didn’t always understand what it was she was doing.

“Great,” He repeated somewhat tiredly. Then he forced himself to smile. It was important that you would see him happy so that Charlie would hear about it later. “You go ahead and unpack. I’m going to do some very important work.”

The sentiment of ‘Don’t disturb me!’ hung in the air, unspoken, but obviously there.

Once Lucifer left, you flopped down on your bed, thinking about all you had seen. You checked your phone, finding several texts from Charlie, progressively getting more impatient as she awaited your reply with a somewhat hyper-anxious anticipation; it seemed the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree.

‘How was your arrival?’

‘Did you get the grand tour?’

‘Which room did he put you in?’

‘I bet it was the Rococo room.’

‘Oh no, he didn’t put you up in my old room, did he? That would be so EMBARRASSING!!!’

‘Wait, why aren’t you replying?! PLEASE TELL ME HE’S BEING NICE TO YOU!’

‘I can come over if you need me to.’

‘Did your bags get there okay?’

You smiled and decided to put Charlie out of her misery. Your phone alerted you that she was already writing another message, but as soon as you started to compose one of your own, the notification that she was typing disappeared.

‘The tour was fine. Lucifer has been nothing but polite,’ and frazzled, you thought, though you omitted that part from the text; it was best that Charlie didn’t have anything extra to worry about while preparing for her meeting with Heaven.

‘My room is also amazing btw. I don’t know about Rococo or whatever, but it’s certainly stunning, and judging by the lack of stuffed animals and probably cheesy posters, I’m guessing it isn’t your old room.’

You really meant that. While your room was in need of a good cleaning, and there was a slightly off odour, it was indeed beautiful with its lacquered wooden floors, rich velvet drapes (Hell-Red of course) and lustrous emerald wallpaper. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen, especially since arriving in Hell, not long dead after… the incident.

You removed your thoughts far from the grim memory of your death, not wanting to relive your demise. It never did any good to think of such things, and you had to wonder whether all Demons fixated on the manner in which they perished. Perhaps some were lucky enough to die in their sleep or get hit by a bus; at least the latter would be quick, and the former peaceful.

Moreover, you also believed the other part of your text; Lucifer probably kept Charlie’s room as a shrine to her youth. He seemed like the sort of person who was stuck in the past.

Your phone buzzed again, and you expected another message from Charlie, but it was from Angel Dust.

‘When you get the chance, snoop in the Short King’s bedroom and find out what kinky shit he’s into. I’m betting food play. He seems like a whipped cream and apples kind of guy if you catch my drift.’

Betting? He had undoubtedly roped Husk and Nifty into said bet. Husk had likely opted for a safe option like bondage… You didn’t want to know what kind of kinky shit Nifty thought Lucifer was into; that girl was a dark horse.

“Never going to happen,” You murmured to yourself with a chuckle; you would never invade Lucifer’s privacy like that, but Angel’s text had made you laugh and distracted you from your earlier thoughts.

Getting up, you pushed yourself into action and began unpacking both your thoughts and your few clothes and possessions. You lit a scented candle that Angel had gifted you. It was one of his unwanted gifts from Valentino, Blueberry Blowjob. You were glad when the scent filled the air, taking away from what you incorrectly assumed was the faint smell of mildew. The smell didn’t concern you, you had plenty more candles and tea lights with such names as Orange Orgasm, Popcorn Pussy, and Cherry Cum-Shot.

The manner was well furnished, but all of the rooms were neglected. There were seven parlours in total, each matching the theme of one Sin, probably because it would be polite should they ever need to meet with the Royal Family one-on-one. Despite that, they seemingly hadn’t been used in some time, nor had the library or any of the living rooms. You hadn’t seen much of Lucifer’s room as he rushed you past the door, which had only been slightly ajar, but what little you had caught a glimpse of seemed cleaner than the rest of the manor. Did he spend all of his time in there? Alone? That was… It was sad. Lucifer could live well among anyone in Hell, except maybe Alastor, yet he couldn’t see the good in anyone.

Without Charlie and Lilith that must be lonely. How depressing that he had created a kind of personal Hell inside of Hell. You were starting to think that Charlie was right to send you home with him.

Still, it seemed like he needed some time to get used to the idea of company and you had a job to work as his cleaner. Once you were unpacked, you would seek out the cleaning supplies and get started.

Lucifer draped himself over his workbench, listlessly toying with a rubber duck. It was one of his worst creations… Couldn’t even breathe fire.

He didn’t even know why he continued to make them. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else to make, and it was better to make something than nothing, even if he ended up creating the same thing over and over again, clinging to the memory of how one celestial duck had made Charlie smile.

Her smile was everything. Even Heaven couldn’t take that away, or… Maybe they could, if this meeting went awry. No. Please God, No. Not that. Anything but that. Kill the sinners. Show him the agonising mistake of Free Will for eternity, but he hoped to never see the day that Heaven treated his daughter with the same derision they typically reserved for him.

Lucifer froze, a glower darkening his expression as you knocked on the door.

He had clearly implied that he didn’t want to be bothered. IMPLIED IT! It hadn’t even been one day and you were bothering him.

Lucifer didn’t open the door. He didn’t want you to see inside his room. That was his space and his alone. Yet, he didn’t want any risk of you barging in, so he poofed himself to where you stood outside, using a glamorous entrance to grab your attention.

“Yes?” He said expectantly, leaning forward on his cane, as if leaning closer to you didn’t disturb him half as much as it did.

“Oh,” You blinked back surprise, though you weren’t too shocked seeing how Alastar always snuck up on you at the Hotel in a similarly flamboyant manor. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I just wondered if you could tell me where the cleaning products are kept? I would like to get started as soon as I can.”

Cleaning products? Lucifer was stuck on the sentiment as if he’d never heard of such foreign words. Then he seemed to remember, you had been volunteered as his cleaner. Right… That was Charlie’s way of making him take you.

You waited patiently for a response, having quickly learned that your host tended to drift between a fast-talking façade or thoughtful distractedness. You wished you didn’t have to ask him for help, but after searching three floors and the attic, you had gotten somewhat turned around, and you had no idea where you had already looked; the manor was massive.

Finally, Lucifer seemed to come to and he began boredly examining his hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” He stated demurely.

“It won’t?”

“No. It won’t.”

Behind you, Lucifer caught sight of a portrait of his family. The frame was carved blood-wood harvested from a Tree-Demon who once dared to insult Lilith in Lucifer’s presence. Two winged snakes adorned opposing corners of the portrait. With a lazy wave of his hand, they creaked and snapped, coming to life, and escaping their previous wooden home, leaving only indentations where they used to be. With another magical flourish, they grew slightly and became more life-like, shedding splinters as their new uniforms appeared.

“There, see, two half-sized cleaners. They’ll take care of everything.”

You stared hard at the new servants of the house, somewhat amazed by the show of power; nobody else in Hell could do anything close to creating life, and it seemed that Lucifer didn’t even care that he had such power.

Frankly, Lucifer was upset with his new creations. He had finally strayed from ducks, creating something new for the first time in over a century, and they were still bland. When he had created Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie, he had done everything he could to make them beautiful and unique. These abominations in front of him were cheap copies of that Sir Pentious fellow he had seen at the hotel. He just didn’t have anything left worth creating. There was no point.

Whatever. The snake servants would do their job quietly and obediently. And they’d be more useful and less annoying than Charlie’s reptilian friend.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?” You asked, wishing to be useful. “I can cook pretty well, or I could run errands, or-”

“NO!” Lucifer snapped.

“But-”

“Don’t you get it?! I DON’T NEED YOU.”

Lucifer forced himself to take a calming breath, his gaze downcast so he didn’t have to look at you.

“This is all my daughter’s plan. All you have to do is stay out of my way here and Charlie will be happy. Do you think you can manage that?”

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gay-as-fucking-hell · 4 months

Text

Headcannons (NSFW) | Adela

Rating : 18+ (Minors and Fetishsizers DNI!)

Fandom : Path to Nowhere

Pairing : Adela × Reader

(If I missed any, please tell me and I will fix it!)

CW : NSFW, Begging, Body Worship, Hair Pulling, Marking, Mommy Kink, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Pregnant Sex, Scratching, Somnophilia, Teasing, and Transfem

Summary : My NSFW Headcannons of the character Adela from Path to Nowhere. This covers what role she plays in the bedroom, along with her kinks and her preferences.

Notes : This was made with a female reader in mind but it can be read as a GN reader and Adela is written as both AFAB and Transfem. Enjoy!

Adela's role in the bedroom is a Dominant Top. She's a mix of a Service Top and a Pleasure Dom. She likes being in control and gets very aroused by being the source of pleasure for her S/O and loves drawing multiple orgasms out of them. She is a hard top and doesn't like bottoming. The reason for this is tied to various parts of her past but it is mainly a tendency she has of putting others' needs before her own. She would try to bottom for her S/O if they really want her to, but Adela would have a really hard time enjoying it. Especially if her partner isn't getting any physical pleasure from it.

During love making, Adela notes every little detail about your body and the reactions she prods out of it. She's one to meticulously memorize every part of you till she knows your body and mind like the back of her hand. Its honestly scary how well she's able memorize you as it gets to the point she knows your body better then you do and can play you like an instrument, one of which she's mastered.

Adela prefers to use her own body on you rather than using sex toys. This kinda stems from a place of jealousy as she sees it as you getting pleasure from something that isn't her. She will use things like straps and blindfolds pretty often but other stuff, not so much.

Adela's finger game is god tier and honestly, it makes a lot of sense for her to be so good at it. Working as a hairdresser requires some pretty nimble fingers and when you take into account how long each digit is, it all starts to click. So yeah, don't be surprised when she uses them on you and you can't walk afterwards.

Adela is one to check-in during sex pretty often, especially if you're experimenting with something new in the bedroom. She just wants to make sure that her S/O is comfortable and not in any pain. If there is something wrong at any time, tell her. She wants her S/O to feel comfortable communicating anything with her, especially during sex. So if she finds out that you were uncomfortable or God forbid, experienced any type of unwanted pain, then she's going to beat herself up and worry you don't trust her or are even scared of her.

If this situation ever occurs, Adela will communicate her worries and ask if there was a reason you didn't say anything. She might look composed on the outside but she's crying, worried, hurt, and scared on the inside. Just communicate with her and everything will be resolved in a healthy manner.

Adela is one to have soft, sensual, and romantic sex with her partner, both slow and fast. She sees sex as a very intimate bonding experience so she usually isn't ready to have sex with her partner until 4 to 6 months into the relationship. First time sex with Adela is so tooth rottingly sweet, it's adorable. She's constantly checking-in with you, making sure you're as comfortable as you can be, with a lot of praising and kisses from her.

During sex, Adela has a tendency to maintain as much skin to skin contact with her partner as she possibly can. She likes being physically close whilst being intimately close, it's like her way of saying, "I'm doing this because I love you, not just for of the pleasure," She kinda struggles with showing her love and vulnerability so she makes up for it during this time. Sex is already so vulnerable for her, so she sees it as the perfect time to be even more vulnerable with you by pouring every last drop of her love and passion into it.

As I said, Adela enjoys soft sex but that doesn't mean she's not into rough sex. It depends on how long you've been dating and the amount of sex you guys have had. She won't bring rough sex into your relationship until a lot later, probably not until the 9 month mark. She'll bring up the idea to you and will proceed with it only if you want to. Even with your consent, Adela will still be holding back pretty hard as she's afraid of going to rough and hurting you. As the session goes on she'll ease up on her restraint and start going at you harder, but if you want her to cut the shit and get to it then a "Adela, stop holding back and fuck me properly already," should suffice. She'll still be holding back but she will be pretty rough with you.

When Adela does eventually let all of her self restraint go, she lets out her Overstimulation Kink. Remember how I said she's a pleasure dom? Yeah, I wasn't joking. Once she's comfortable with dropping her shackles of control, it's pure, non-stop, continuous orgasms. She'll have you so overwhelming fucked to the point your overstimulation will trigger overstimulation. There will even be sessions where Adela goes at you while you're floating in and out of consiousness or till you're on the brink of passing out. These are also one of the few times Adela will use a sex toy, that being a cockring. Her goal is to fuck as many orgasms out of you as she possibly can and a cockring allows for longer sessions by trapping more blood in her cock and making ejaculation harder. These sessions only take place on occasion though as her S/O is left pretty sore afterwards and there would be consequences if they occur too often.

Adela is huge on Body Worship. She genuinely sees her S/O as perfect in every way and wants them to know that, inside and outside the bedroom. If you have any insecurities about your body, wether that be scars, deformities, stretch marks, weight gain, infertility, body dysmorphia, gender dysphoria or anything else of the sort, expect to be bombarded with kisses, various love marks, uplifting praises, and gentle touches. She'll show her admiration through these means with passionate and loving sex or whilst simply holding you, which ever you prefer.

Has a HUGE Praise Kink. Adela is one to praise her partner a lot but absolutely melts if she receives any kind of praise from them. She finds it very reassuring and it eases her worries, so give her a lot.

Pregnant Sex is a definite yes for Adela. Even though I see her as one who would rather adopt a baby than make one, I can't deny that she'd love to have you while you're pregnant. Its probably the sweetest sex you'll ever have with her. She's just filled with so much pride and love that she can't help but want to softly thrust into you while caressing your swollen belly.

Hair Pulling is a kink that Adela found out she had after her S/O yanked her face into their shoulder while she was going at them from behind. Now, anytime her hair is messed with in a sexual manner it causes heat to pool with in her groin. There are even times when you're innocently playing with her hair and Adela will feel the familiar sensation of blood/heat rushing downwards.

She also finds arousal in messing with her partner's hair. As someone who works with hair, Adela has gained a unique fascination and appreciation for it. People use it as a way to express one's self and put great trust into another person to shape it for them. So being able to mess with her S/O's hair in a rougher way during sex fills her with euphoria and she sees it as huge show of trust. She loves being able to harshly grasp it, tangle her hands within it, stuff her face into it and maybe even lightly tug at it.

Scratching is another kink Adela found out she had because of her S/O. Being able to make you feel so good that you dig your nails into her flesh before dragging them across her skin fills her with so much pride and bliss. Burying your nails into her like they're talons and just gripping her flesh does it for her to. And the burning sensation that follows after feels so nice on her natrualy cold skin. She also loves the markings that are left behind. Seeing all of the red lines and welts littered on her body gives her a feeling security and fills her with love.

Adela enjoys teasing her S/O as it feeds into her Begging Kink. She likes hearing you beg and hearing how much you want her is a pretty big turn on for her. This kink kinda ties into some insecurities she has of her S/O leaving her after she allowed herself to form such a intimate relationship with them. It's reassuring to hear you begging for her affection and she correlates it to you saying you won't leave cause you need her.

Adela is very into Somnophilia. She originally used this kink to satisfy herself as she didn't want to bother her S/O. But now she finds herself taking them whilst they sleep to pacify her libido and because of how arousing she finds it. Remember how I said she'd fuck you till you pass out? Well if Adela's sex drive hasn't run out yet, she'll keep going at you whilst your unconscious until shes satisfied. Waking up with cum between your thighs becomes a regular occurence, along with waking up in the morning to feel Adela thrusting her cock/fingers into your cunt.

And finally, Adela has a Mommy Kink, I don't think I need to explain myself on this one.

Notes : And that's it! I may add headcannons if any more come to mind but this is all I have for now. Anyways, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.

#path to nowhere x reader #adela x reader #path to nowhere #female reader #sapphic #wlw #nblw #lesbian #heacanons

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thisonehere · 6 months

Note

hey love... hope you're doing well ❤️ I heard you're taking requests 🤭

can I please get a little scenario with reader (gn or female - whatever you're comfy with) and bi-han in bed... she's tired asf. had a long day and whatnot. but bi-han is a horny ass (as expected) and he's painfully hard and keeps shifting around in bed. reader feels his big little issue going on and is like "can you put that thing away please??"

can be a headcannon thing or a little drabble or whatever you like...

pretty please and thank you 💋

BVghjjgvhHGNbvjhh, of course!

A BIG little PROBLEM

HORNY!BI-HAN X GN!READER

A/N: Wow, didn't expect this to be my first request...not complaining though lol. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to go take a bath in holy water.

Tags: MK1, Post MK1, MK1 AU, Drabble

TW: 18+, MDNI, NSFW, mention of erections, heat, touch starved, pet names, late-night sex, use of power, dom!sex, nipple-play

Today was a busy day. It has always been like that with the Lin Kuei, but today was possibly the worst so far. Bi-Han started a new project, something he calls the Cyber Initiative. You were already a busy enough person as it is, but this did not make matters any easier on you. You were toiling all day, doing one task to the next, and when you thought you could sit down another duty suddenly popped up for you to do. You were so busy you didn't even notice the sun was setting. But you were grateful nonetheless. Night had finally hit the Arctika and you had finally found a chance to relax.

You slip on your nightgown and sigh in relief as you sink onto the bed. There are so many things you want to do right now, but they're all subsided by one thing you want to do most of all: sleep. Your eyelids are so heavy that you don't even bother to keep them open. You just wrap yourself in the covers and feel yourself drift off in its warmth.

A few hours later you jolt awake at the sound of your room door closing. You don't even bother to look up because you already know who it is. Normally, you would jump into his arms to greet him, but tonight wasn't one of your usual nights. "You're interrupting my beauty sleep, husband." you sarcastically mumble under your breath. "And we'd hate for that to happen now wouldn't we, my snowdrop" Bi-Han grumbles in response. There was something strange about his voice, you couldn't tell whether he was tired or if he was trying to speak in a deeper more menacing tone. It wouldn't be the first time he did it. But you yourself are too tired to care.

With a huff, you roll away from him so you won't have to look at him. Whenever you are tired, you always find yourself in such a grumpy state. It is like you become a whole other person. Someone more sarcastic, petty, and mean-spirited. You were upset with Bi-Han, and you didn't know why exactly, you just knew you were. It could be because of how overworked you have been lately thanks to his sudden ambitions, or maybe it could be because he betrayed his brothers because of his ambition, it could even be a result of you being touch starved, it has been quite a while since you are your husband had any intimate moments. Nether the less, here you, too tired to even think straight.

As Bi-Han pulled open the covers, he froze for a second, Something got his attention. You feel his eyes linger on you. "What is it?" You ask. "...It is nothing" he responds as he quickly slips into bed. Why was he acting so weird? Did he see something? Never mind, you think as you close your eyes. You'll ask him about it in the morning.

After a few moments, you finally found the perfect position to make you comfortable. After that, it was no trouble to doze off, that was until you were rudely woken up by a Bi-Han as he begins shit around in bed. Tossing and turning in different directions. You try your best to ignore it, but his near-constant shifting in position begins to get on your nerves. Twice already has he now interrupted your slumber. You were starting to really get annoyed by him now.

In a sudden move, you jump to a sitting position. "Alright, what is the problem," you ask, this time with more fire and fury in your voice "What's wrong?". With that, Bi-Han rolls over to face you. As he does, you feel something brush up against you. Something hard, yet soft at the same time. You freeze in surprise, too stunned to react. A shiver runs throughout you.

"Are you kidding me?" You finally say. Suddenly it made sense why he acted so strange and was looking at you. "What?" He asked as he leaned up and rested on his elbow. He stares at you with a hardened glare, as if he's almost annoyed himself. "How can you be like this at this time?". Bi-han shrugs and refuses to break his stoic manner even in this circumstance. "I cannot exactly control it." He answers. "So? Do something, put it away. Use your snow magic or something.", "That's not how it works." He said as he rolled his eyes. Bi-Han was obviously feeling very frustrated at the moment but you couldn't help but see a slight smirk attempting to form. "If it bothers you so much...why don't you help alleviate it," he says as he sits up fully, sliding off the covers to fully reveal his erection. The shape of his giant cock pointed a bulge into his night clothes, it grabs your attention immediately. A flustered feeling begins to erupt inside of you as blush spreads all over your face. "Is that a yes, snowdrop?". "I'm tired, Bi-Han., I'm not in the mood to do any more work". He slides closer to you, gifting you a closer look at his "sword". He begins to kiss your neck which causes a sensation to spread throughout your body. "Who said you had to do the work?" You sigh and look at him in the eye, "Fine," You hotly say "Fuck me."

...

"OH MY GODS!" You cry out at Bi-Han rams his dick inside you. You felt its girth and its size fill you entirely. It's humongous, it's almost overwhelming. "That's it, my snowdrop, scream for me." Bi-Han huffs as he grips the headboard, it breaks slightly under his fingers. His other hand is free, and around your neck as it slightly chokes you. If you paid enough attention, you'd notice that a subtle cold wave flowed from his hands and kissed the skin around you causing you to get goosebumps.

But you couldn't notice it, his beautiful cock was so deep inside you that you couldn't even think straight even if you wanted to. It felt so amazing, but too much at the same time. It almost felt like he was about to split you in two. "Oh, Y/n, you're so wet for me aren't you, snowdrop?" he teases with a smirk, he enjoys how much power he has at the moment. Seeing that you squirmed around in pleasure did something for his ego that simple kombat could not.

He looked at your nightgown and he grabbed it and ripped it off of you like it was paper. His eyes burned with lust at the new view now before him. With a pleased sneer on his face, he continued to ram hips in an almost wild motion. Bi-Han loves you, or at least you think he does, but the way he is fucking you almost feels like he hates you with a passion.

"Could Kuai make you feel like this?" He suddenly asks. "What?" He begins to thrust even faster by this response. "Could my brother make you feel this good?" He questions again. "He couldn't" You gasp. "Could that bastard Tomas make you feel this way?" He asks again. "Not even in the slightest." You try your best to respond with. It was obvious he was high on how powerful and amazing this made ehim feel this was no new thing. He sometimes likes to do things like this to feed his ego, unfortunately, it was even bigger than his dick.

"Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny, Geras, could any of them satisfy you like I do?" He haughtily questioned. You could feel both of your climaxes slowly arriving. "N-no." you wince as you feel the release coming. "Would you rather stay asleep than let me fuck you?"

"Yes." You say. Without a warning, you rise up and grab Bi-Han and somehow you are able to throw him onto his back. He had gripped the headboard so hard that it shattered at your sudden action. Now on top, you begin to bounce up and down on his dick. You began to pant and huff and even curse under your breath as you tried to not lose your breath. "I...was hoping... to get a good night's rest... but thanks to you...here I am." You force out your mouth between each pant. Bi-han was taken by surprise by this, but he couldn't lie, seeing you try to take control was something very amusing to him. He took one hand and placed it onto your hips to adjust your rhythm. With the other, he used to grab at your chest and he started to play with your nipple. You gasped as you felt slightly cold, he was using his powers again.

He stopped finally and placed both of his hands on your hip. He violently pushes you down, stopping your bouncing. As he does this, you both finally climax. A rush of relief rushes through your body causing you to scream at the top of your lungs and through your head back.

After some time, Bi-Han finally softens his grip and releases you. You fall on your back beside as you both try to catch your breath. "Bastard, that was my favourite nightgown," you say finally. Bi-Han can't help but laugh at this remark. You suddenly feel two strong arms around you, Bi-Han pulls you close and rests your head on his chest. You hear his heartbeat as it provides a soothing rhythm. He grabs the cover and buries you both with it. A smile finds its way onto your face. You melt into your husband's warm embrace, and your bodies entwine as they share each other's warmth. Your eyelids get heavy as you finally drift off.

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violentnewmarley · 10 months

Note

hiii <3 ! can you write where it’s tokio hotel x reader but like separately… ( YK ????) 😭😭😭 anyways where the reader pulls their hair or scratches themselves when their stressed or sad ? and then they comfort the reader and calm them down ? ….. i hope this made sense i’m sorry pookie 😞😞.

By Your Side.

Tokio Hotel (2000’s) x Gn!reader<3 (Angst?)

YES OFC BABE! But I thought that I should make these HCs more indistinct so they are Basically just general s/h and Comfort but I hope you don’t mind! ALSO. me and my bbg lo kept coming up with really funny ideas to so I had to include those as well😔💔 the silly ones are all purple.

lo -> (my pookie bear) tysm @bbvoxstar ^_^ 💟💟💟

Warnings/Content: mentions of s/h.

• How each member of Tokio Hotel would comfort you after finding out about your Bad coping skills 😓

Tom

• At first he would get mad for not really knowing what to do.

• maybe some trust issues at first.

• but eventually he would be really understanding and try to help.

• Idk why but i think he would be really chill about it.

• lots of physical affection and silliness to try and distract you.

• Would be really defensive over you if someone were to point out or make fun of your scars (or any type of mark you would get from something)

• He would attempt at braiding your hair to keep you distracted because you kept pulling at it. but he ends up putting it into a knot and he calls Bill up (cause bills a female🥰) and Toms like "HELP OMG" so Bill unknots that shit 😙 Basically its just so funny that your not stressed anymore LOL.

Gustav

• I don't think that he would pick up on it super easily so he would be a bit confused when he first finds out.

• Hes very protective of you already, but he would become even more.

• He would make you watch silly movies together to try and cheer you up.

• Would let you play with his hair (he usually swats your hand away 😒)

• Gustav DEFINITELY likes Madagascar. yall watch Madagascar and he doesnt stop qouting the zebra 💔

Bill

• He would likely pick up on your behavior by himself, so he would end up talking to you to make sure you're alright.

• If he caught you in an act I think he would try to talk you through/out of it.

• Listens well and pays close attention to what you say. He would take it serously and try his best to make sure you trust him

• Would let you cry in his arms fr :(

• Would help you put on bandaids and kiss them😔 (I know That sounds really cringe but you know that you can picture it happening)

• He would be extra touchy and loving to try and comfort you when he knew you needed it to try and keep you from hurting yourself more in the future <3

• Gives you an emo makeover so you can look the part😍

• Writes a song about it :3

Georg

• I feel like if Georg ever saw you pull your hair he would think your on crack but then realize your sad and feel bad. 😓

•Hold your hands

• Speaks really soft and quiet when talking to you

• He’s very reassuring and always reminds you about how much he loves you. (he just gives those vibes yk)

• Checks up on you a lot, sometimes he makes time to do so, and when he can’t he texts you a lot.

y’all I am so sorry if the silly ones are out of pocket we couldn’t help ourselves😭 But srsly if any of you are ever struggling with these sorts of things I understand and am always here to talk 😘

💟 @fishinaband @nyxwritesshit @mikalame @bbvoxstar

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hclymoonsblog · 3 months

Text

Memory Arc

GN!Child of Aphrodite x Luke Castellan

Author’s note : I imagined the reader as female but could also be read as gender neutral. Listened to Memory Arc from Rivale Consoles as I wrote.

Warnings : Angst to comfort, with a bit of fluff at the end. Mentions of self-isolation, self-deprecation, nostalgia, fear of death, smoking, acne breakouts, implicit depression from the reader, Luke is insensitive but makes up for it.

The Aphrodite cabin was awfully quiet. It had been for a while, considering all of your step-siblings had, once again, failed at the tedious task of getting you to attend the nightly campfire.

It wasn’t their fault, really. But there was no try. Putting on a face and trying to maintain somewhat a form of social life among your peers had been the very least of your concerns. They knew it, and so did you, which is why assuring them that spending your evening listening to music, dining off a few snacks and enjoying silence was perfectly fine with you, had been enough to get them to go. The cabin residents had eventually agreed to leave you on your own, abandoning you to your chosen isolation.

And, indeed, that’s precisely what was happening. Faint Lana Del Rey was playing in the room – Thunder, the unreleased version, to be exact. You could have recognized the song among a thousand, thanks to its distinct first notes and the familiar grain of the device it was being played on: the mp3 Luke had stolen for you about a year ago, when you first arrived at camp.

A wave of nostalgia hit you as the boy crossed your mind. You mindlessly inspected the small, grey box, letting your manicured nails trace over the small stickers glued onto the metallic surface. He had never outwardly expressed where he got it from, nor why he chose to gift it to you, among all people.

You remembered the moment vividly.

***

This was on your second day at camp, at breakfast. You had barely slept, plagued by distressing nightmares all revolving around the implication of being the child of a literal god — or goddess, you weren't sure. It all seemed too surreal to you, and the fact you hadn’t been claimed yet wasn’t helping with it either. Luke Castellan, for some reason, happened to be sitting right next to you at the Hermes table, which welcomed unclaimed children like you, as Mr. D had said in a way that you guessed to be willing to remind you you didn’t belong. Hopefully, that wouldn’t last for long. The thought made you frown unconsciously.

The camp counselor had observed you fiddle with your food for a while, almost thoughtfully. Without a word, he pulled a small object out of his pocket and handed it to you.

“You talk in your sleep.” He commented, giving little to no context regarding his gesture.

Your eyes went from the item, to Luke, to the item again, not moving an inch.

The lack of sleep, combined with all of the information you had to interiorise, made you glare at the box both with curiosity and suspicion, waiting for him to elaborate. Was this another unknown, mystic artefact to, magically, grant you a dreamless sleep?

He blinked, staring back at your emotionless eyes from the insomnia, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“This, is a mp3,” He explained, gesturing to the small screen and the music note on the back of the device, maintaining the eye contact between the two of you, as if it was trying to get his point across. “You can download songs, and, y’know, listen to music with it.”

“I know what a mp3 is.” You cut him a bit defensively, your cheeks flushing a bit from the slight embarrassment.

To punctuate your sentence, you pressed a button to switch it on, in order to let him know you actually had owned a similar thing in the past, back when things were still normal for you. Why was this guy showing you off his mp3, anyways?

“I’m sure you do.” The slight mocking tone and the faintest smirk you detected onto Luke’s lips left you questioning the whole point of the conversation.

Conveniently, the look on your face must have told Luke everything he needed to know as he picked up the conversation. “I thought this might help you relax. Take your mind off things, and, hopefully, make you feel a bit more at home, with songs you like.”

Your eyes softened. The slight irritation you were feeling towards him evaporated from your body. His friendly gesture had taken you aback, and in a good way. The mp3 may have been in a questionable state, the fact the boy — which was just as much of a stranger than you were to him — had tried to make you feel good, and therefore, welcomed in your new place, was touching.

“… Thank you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” Luke’s whole face brightened. An unfamiliar warmth spread across your chest. He ran a hand through his dark curls, looking to the side for a split second.

“How did you get that, though? I didn’t know there was a mystery Apple Store at camp.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just say I stumbled upon it.”

***

Unexpected was the word. Nevertheless, you had truly appreciated the friendly gesture. He had been the first person to act kindly towards you ever since your arrival – at least, not in a way that felt exaggeratingly forced, unlike some other camp residents. You could say this present had sealed the beginning of your friendship. As you stared at it, it left you reflecting onto the day you first met Luke and wondering about where the two of you stood.

Soon enough, you had no choice but to face the harsh reality of things, which led you inevitably into spiralling into your thoughts.

The two of you hadn’t had a real conversation in months. You didn’t spar together anymore, neither did you share the mp3 he had gifted you, one earbud each, to make him listen to music he claimed to hate — a supposed disdain which had never prevented him from singing, quite awfully, the lyrics along with you.

You didn’t sit next to one another anymore, didn’t hang out anymore. All of that was quite simply gone.

You had to content yourself of occasional, fleeting from across the hall, nods of acknowledgment.

People had noticed. They came up to you, asked you about him, probably as much as they asked him about you.

Of course, you knew. Deep down, you knew why it all went down.

It is an obligation for demigods to demonstrate constant, unwavering strength and courage. For all you knew, those two had never been qualities that you particularly lacked.

But when it came to the dark haired boy, it seemed like all the traits you thought you owned came crashing down, and you were left bare, defenseless, while he could see right through your soul.

And you hated that. You thought befriending — though the verb doesn’t quite fit — the best swordsman in camp would help you get rid of the weakness Aphrodite children tend to be associated with. But, truly, it had in fact only been the opposite.

Your barriers all came undone, without fail, one after the other. Your heart only grew fonder, more passionate. And yet, one thing you learned the hard way about being a demigod, is that there is no room for weakness.

You knew you wouldn’t be capable of balancing both courage and attachment, so the only option left was to flee, to disengage yourself from such a bond, before it was too late.

Once you got back from your first ever quest, the one in which you almost got violently murdered by a giant scorpion and a bunch of other terrifying creatures, the one which sent you into a concerning amount of sleepless nights, you were convinced of it.

You wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of forcing yourself through this life without him.

You had believed, foolishly, your avoidance would make things easier.

The truth is that it had only made you feel more heartachingly miserable.

Time had flown by, and despite all your efforts, Luke was still the first thing you thought of when you woke up and the last thing on your mind when you went off to sleep.

For a daughter of Aphrodite, you sure sucked at love.

The irony of it all left a bitter taste in your mouth.

This was why listening to Lana, despite the affection you held for her, was so dangerous. It always sent you into an uncontrollable overload of emotions.

Fully intending to get rid of the sadness wave before it fully hit you, you stood up from your bed and switched off the device before carefully putting it away in a drawer.

Then, you picked up a pink hoodie, not sure what step-sibling you were borrowing it from, and carelessly put it on.

As much as you loved the tenth cabin and its coquette aesthetic, you weren’t really feeling that coquette at the moment, which is precisely the reason why you got on your knees in order to grab the pack of Malboro’s carefully hidden under your bed.

You were glad any of your step-siblings hadn’t picked up on the fact you were smoking, or you would not have ever stopped hearing about it. You could already hear Silena lecturing you about the effect it would have on your lungs, or worse, on your skin.

Surely the Silena you were imagining in your head was right, though. The frequent smoking, which had been intensifying lately, could explain why you had been breaking out a bit more than usual.

Thankfully, the perks of being part of the Aphrodite cabin always involved somebody always being kind enough to help the other with spots coverage, so it hadn’t been much of an issue to you. Ever since, you had been perfectly capable of doing it on your own.

You walked out the wooden cabin, shutting the door behind you with a barely audible creak. Immediately met with the cool air, goosebumps erupted on your skin. Maybe cotton shorts weren’t the move for such weather, after all. Too bad. You felt like you had gone through worse — you were more than capable of fighting off the not-so-warm spring evening air.

It was dark. The moon was your only source of light, since you hadn’t thought about picking up a flashlight before leaving, but that was quite good enough already. Your legs were always bringing you to the precise spot in camp you had in mind, and as you walked, you were straying further away from the woods.

As tall grass tickled your ankles, you silently prayed to your mother you wouldn’t stumble onto any harpy. The thought still emitted a dry chuckle from you, picturing the creature interrupting your smoking break in the middle of the night. If things went shit, you could always try to charmspeak them away. That would be, in fact, surprisingly entertaining.

Harpies rarely roamed around the beach. That was a reassuring thought to you — firstly because you weren’t too keen on the idea of fighting a monster so late at night, and secondly because that’s precisely where you were heading.

Before you knew it, the smell of salt had invaded your nostrils. The crisp touch of the sand underneath your feet made you shiver as you made your way to the shore, intending to sit down for a while — and enjoy your well-deserved cigarette.

You put your hand down and shoved it in your pocket, instinctively expecting to get a hold of the familiar surface of your lighter. It was even more unexpected to realize there was no lighter to be found, sending your brain into a haze. The possibilities were endless. You could have either forgotten it in the cabin, accidentally dropped it into the tall grass as you were walking, or dropped it somewhere among the sand–

“Looking for something?”

You spinned around, eyes widening, looking up at the person the masculine voice belonged to.

Luke Castellan. Standing in front of you, holding the silver lighter, but not quite handing it to you. You got a weird sense of deja vu as you both scrutinized the other.

His hair had definitely grown. The dark curls were more defined than you remembered them to be, and there was a new scar down the sight of his face. The sight made you raise a brow, and you met his eyes once again, examining them as much as the distance allowed you to. As a matter of fact, they looked pretty much the same, except for the lack of emotion. They looked weirdly bland, almost glacial, full of indifference. You weren’t used to him looking at you in such a manner.

“Thank you. I must have dropped it earlier.” You explained, trying your best to keep your voice neutral, hoping he would simply give you the object back, so you could both escape the awkward situation. You didn’t believe for a second he had accidentally found it and magically brought it to you at such a late hour of the night. You didn’t feel like confronting him about it anyways.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” Luke stated, letting his deft fingers trace over the small object. Then, he lit it, as if he were checking if it did work. Was there a slight tinge of disappointment in his voice or had you imagined it? You were unsure.

“Happens, from time to time.”

The dry chuckle your ex-friend let out only left you made you grow more confused about whatever was happening. You were left with an uneasy feeling in the chest.

“Sure. Then, I guess you haven’t bought, like, three packs from Connor in less than a week.”

“It soothes me!” You defended yourself, feeling small under his disapproving glare. “Why do you keep records of who he sells cigs to, anyways?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you try to get into meditation, or some yoga shit, detox tea, guided hypnosis from Cabin 15, or anything else, really, for all I care? Why’d you have to destroy your health for some temporary relief?” The dark-haired boy snapped back, gradually rising in temper.

“I don’t know, maybe because, unless you haven’t noticed during all the years you’ve been stuck at camp, there’s not much to cope with here?” You mirrored his voice, hastily getting up from the small pile of sand you were sitting on.

“Oh, all right then, I get it.” He threw his arms in the air as he spoke, his brown eyes flashing in anger. “You’re a little depressed, but there’s no psychiatrist available here to help you fix your issues, so you choose to ignore the hell out of me and throw your health out the window instead. Real smart choice.”

Your mouth opened in shock, and before you knew it, your vision was blurred from the tears building up in your eyes. You felt your heart twist painfully in your chest at his insensitive words, and you choked back a sob.

“Why would it matter if I fuck up my health, wether that be to me, or to you? (You had to pause to catch your breath, your chest heaving up and down from the mix of negative emotions invading your body.) “I’ll be dead in no more than ten years, maybe less— We’ll all be.” You inhaled, your voice cracking at the end of your sentence. “You know it.”

His brown eyes widened. Your two last sentences seemed to take out the anger out of his body, leaving the two of you in a heavy kind of silence. Luke’s face went from great anger to deep sadness. He took a step up, gradually lessening the distance between you two, and put his two arms on each of your shoulders. The boy knelt down, so the two of you were on eye-level. You were able to see every one of each of his features now.

“Don’t say that.” His voice was lower, and his brown eyes had considerably softened, and it’s as if you were back to when you first fell in love, about three months ago. “We can’t think of life as just an end, or we won’t live at all.”

Your eyes dropped to the sandy ground, unable to hold his gaze any longer. You hadn’t cried in so long that the sensation of the pearly tears dripping down your eyes felt almost foreign, to you. “I can’t help but think of it that way. Knowing our days are counted, threatened by the doings of the gods, is too much to bear, on most days.” You sniffled. “Makes me wonder if there’s truly a point living it all, and if it’s not better to try and lessen the pain as much as you can.”

Luke was silent for a bit, reflecting onto what you just said, carefully picking out the words he was about to use next. “The one thing about being a demigod is that we’re fundamentally different compared to regular mortals.” He mindlessly wiped a tear off your face with his thumb. “We die young, and most of the time, terribly. This is what differentiates us significantly from mortals.”

You pursed your lips. “Is this how you think you’re gonna make me feel better?”

The dark-haired boy chuckled, a small smile etching its way on his lips. “No. Of course, it’s unfair, but what I mean is that not much mortal philosophy actually applies to us. We have to look up to those who worshipped the same gods we did. See— take Horace, and his whole Carpe Diem belief. He happened, in fact, to be quite right. We need to enjoy our days, live them to the fullest, and make the most of what we have.” He paused, looking away for a split second, before looking back up into your eyes. “You can’t just deny yourself from happiness. Not only you don’t deserve that, it’ll only make your existence as a demigod even more complicated than it already is.” Luke first hesitated before tucking a hair strand of yours behind your ear. “And, especially as a daughter of Aphrodite, you can’t deny yourself from love.” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

His words really resonated with you, for some reason. Of course, all your problems wouldn't disappear out of thin air thanks to his philosophical words, but they were all you needed to close the remaining distance between the two of you, crashing your lips against his. It was a bit bold, and indeed, it took Luke aback. He froze for a split second, but the camp counselor was quick to come to his senses. One hand went up to caress your jaw to deepen the kiss, almost desperately, and the other pulled you in his chest, a strong arm securing you against him.

You were the first one to pull away, gasping up for air, and he begrudgingly imitated you, his dilated pupils betraying him. He let out a slight chuckle and ran a hand through his hair, trying to play it off cool.

“Didn’t expect you’d be taking my advice so soon.” The boy joked, still squeezing you against his side, practically towering over you. “I’m not complaining, though.” He hurriedly added.

“I didn’t know you’d gotten so wise. If I knew ignoring you would turn into a son of Athena, I would’ve given you silent treatment earlier.”

Your playful words only made him press you into his side even more, until your cheeks were squished into his hard chest. It was actually quite enjoyable, except for the fact you’d probably end up suffocating and it would then ruin the romantic mood set between the two of you. “Don’t you dare. I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” He replied, a bit of a warning in his voice. “Even if that means locking you up in the Hermes cabin and tying you down to my bed.”

That made you chuckle. It didn’t exactly sound like a bad situation to you, for numerous reasons, although you wouldn’t admit all of them out loud. Luke must have noticed the slight blush dusting your cheeks since a shit-eating grin appeared on his face. But before he could say anything about it, you spoke up. “I’m sorry. For pushing you away, for keeping you at distance. I—”

“It’s okay, I get it. I appreciate that you’re apologizing, but I’m not blaming you.” He pressed a kiss into the crown of your head, wrapping both his arms around your midsection. “I’m sorry, too, for the way I talked to you, earlier.”

“We’re good, then.”

“Never better.”

“ … ”

“Does that mean I’m getting my lighter back?”

“Well-tried.”

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

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan angst #luke castellan comfort #luke castellan pjo #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #pjo series #luke x reader #luke pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson angst #percy jackson comfort

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Text

I Come With Knives Pt4

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

I finished and checked the word count and was like WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS IS ONLY LIKE 2K WORDS??? But anyway I was just going through youtube and became inspired. Because how else am I going to move the plot forward without torturing these funky little guys?

Warnings: torture, blood, injury, self-destructive coping mechanisms

Word Count: 2,140

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your face blanches when you find the man, Abdirak, injuring himself willingly for his goddess. It makes you sick. But the moment he’s offering his goddess’s blessing in exchange for the blessed pain she desires, you’re tugging your armor off. Astarion tries stopping you - of course he does. He’s seen what you’ve suffered, even felt it through your tadpoles. But when he grabbed your arm, trying to keep you from pulling your shirt off, you looked at him with the most pleading eyes.

“Please. Please let me do this,” they beg. The words die in his throat.

All too soon, you’re facing the wall, standing in the pool of blood. You brace yourself, hands against the stone. It’s cool and rough beneath your calloused hands. But callouses weren’t enough to make you feel free. Scratches and bruises from combat weren’t enough. You needed this. Your mind screamed at you. You don’t want this. But the thought of stepping away now made your skin itch.

“How wonderful!” The man’s voice sent chills through your spine. He enjoyed this way too much.

White hot pain split the skin of your back. His mace created a perfect lash across. Your teeth ached from trying not to scream. It wasn’t for his sake - he’d probably relish the cries even more. It was years of built-in training from your master.

Astarion’s face was tense. His brow was furrowed, his jaw was taught. His eyes never left you. His tadpole squirmed and he accepted instantly, letting himself fall away into your memories.

It was remarkably similar to your current situation, but you were where he stood. A scrawny, shivering form stood against the wall - he couldn’t tell if they were male or female, just that they were starved. A spawn, no doubt.

A whip cracked and several new lashes crossed their back as they screamed. The cat o’ nine tails was slicked with blood already. Their blood, but also the blood of those that came before.

He couldn’t look away. Long fingers wrapped around his jaw, nails digging into his cheeks. Cool air surrounded his skin, but the coldest came from the form pressed up behind him. He could feel the pinch of nails in his hip, too. Not enough to break skin; hardly enough to even leave bruises. But it was a silent threat. A disgusting display of power.

“You did this, sweet thing,” Kir Parthene purrs into his ear. She’s smiling - he can hear it in the tinge of enjoyment that edges her words. “Its pain is your pain.”

The torturer reels back and hits the spawn again. His heart jumps into his throat at their scream. He can feel the burn of tears; the pounding of empathy in his chest that aches and screams for this to end.

Her hand slides over his belly and he feels sick. “What did you do wrong, hm?”

“I screamed.”

“Good, pet.” She presses a kiss to his cheek. “And why did you scream?” He opened his mouth but she squeezed his jaw, silencing him. “And speak up, sweet thing. Make sure it knows why it’s being punished.”

The pressure eased. He took a breath to gather himself. “Because it hurt.”

Nails pressed just below his sternum. She could dig in. Rip out his heart. Kill him without even flinching. She could feel the terror running through him. Through you. “Will it happen again?”

The spawn turns their head slightly. Enough to look at him. Their eyes are bloodshot and watery, begging. His heart drops a mile into his gut. Guilt floods through him. He wants nothing more than to run over and cover them with his body, shield them from all the pain and torture. But he can’t.

“No.”

She slides her hand from his jaw to rest at the base of his throat. Her mouth leaves messy kisses over the scar, still torn and healing and sensitive. “Good pet.”

When he’s returned to his body, you had two lashes across your back. Your nails dug into the stone. Your body shook. But you remained silent.

Abdirak’s smile is wide and wild. “That’s it! Welcome the pain. Let it become part of you!” He reels back again, preparing for a hard hit. Astarion wants to step in now that he knows why you’re doing this. He wants to cover your body, take the hit, save you from the pain.

You press your forehead to the wall and take slow breaths through your nose. Just one more and you would be blessed. How ironic, to seek penance with a goddess of pain.

The mace comes down hard, scraping against your shoulder blades and crossing over, combining with the other gashes. Astarion can see your exposed muscle. Blood drips down your back, but it is unappetizing to him now. You wobble from the pain, using the wall as support. You’re going to fall into the puddle of blood.

He rushes over, shouldering past Abdirak and wrapping his arms around you - around your shoulders and lower back, where you weren’t hit - and keeping you on your feet. You lean heavily into him, even as you try to keep a facade of strength and indifference. You’re even paler than before. Blood drips out your mouth, so much you have to turn and spit it out with a wince. You bit your tongue just to stay quiet.

“Loviatar herself found your performance… inspiring.” You look over your shoulder at the man. So much wicked elation pours from him, radiating in a sickening display. “She has deemed you worthy of her blessing.”

Astarion helps you turn to face your torturer - though, he thinks, you might see Abdirak as your salvation. Once he’s sure you can support your own weight, he cautiously steps away. Abdirak tosses a pinch of salt to either side of you and makes motions with his hands. A red glow briefly surrounds you, reaching up from the floor, from the blood, to bless you.

Abdirak smiles sickeningly sweet and leans in, too close to your face for Astarion’s liking. “And on a personal note, thank you. That was positively divine.”

You give a small nod, not meeting his eyes. You walk over to your gear and start pulling on your shirt. Your movements are slow and achy, and you keep your gaze fixed on the stone floor.

Astarion steps in front of you, hands stopping you when you try putting your shirt over your head. You start to pull away. You wanted this. You needed this. You were using this as punishment. But he couldn’t find anything you needed to be punished for.

He grabs your arms, keeping you where you are. “Stop being stubborn,” he chides softly. “You’ve had your atonement - you don’t need to keep torturing yourself.”

You hesitantly lift your eyes, just high enough to see his chin. Meeting his eyes feels too overwhelming. You nod slightly. He almost sighs with relief when you let him gently coax your shirt over your head and shift it to hang loosely over your back. You let him clasp your armor back over you, lift your arms and tie leather strands together, protecting you from any more damage. You can feel annoyance radiating from him, despite how careful he’s being.

Once you’re fully armored, you turn and lead your group away from the sickening man, from the fresh blood on the floor. Astarion follows close behind. He can see every wince, hear every sharp inhale, and taste the iron in the air.

Those who didn’t go with you are surprised when you immediately retreat to your tent. Usually, you linger around a while to help with any issues until dinner. Your companions tell the events of the day with hushed tones and worried glances to your tent. Astarion doesn’t hang around to listen. He finds a bowl and has Gale conjure some water to fill it, and a clean cloth. He barges through the door to your tent without asking. The flap closes behind him, and the rest of camp is shut out.

You startle, glaring half-heartedly at him. “Go away, Astarion.”

He barks a dry laugh. “I would rather our intrepid leader not get an infection because they were too careless with themselves.”

“If I get an infection, then it’s my problem to deal with and mine alone.”

“Funny. I thought you were the one prancing around handing aid to any Sally-sob-story, preaching companionship and togetherness. Don’t tell me you’re a hypocrite, too?”

You huffed, irritated. He could see your hands shaking. “I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can. Now show me your back before I get Shadowheart in here. I don’t think you want a lecture from her after all that.”

You weighed your options. Get scolded by your healer who could so easily refuse to help since you willingly put yourself in harm’s way, or get scolded by the only other person here who knew exactly what you were doing to yourself? There was no competition, really.

You sigh and turn your back to him, reaching over your head to tug your shirt off once more. You audibly hiss. At least you weren’t trying to hide the pain anymore.

Blood stains the cloth in your lap. You don’t look forward to washing it. Perhaps you could just dye it red.

Astarion settles in behind you, close enough his knees almost touch your hips. You listen attentively as he soaks the cloth in the water and wrings it out. He doesn’t warn you before he starts dabbing at the wounds. You hiss and jerk away. He sighs and presses a hand to your bare shoulder. This time, he dabs more delicately at the wounds.

“So, are we going to address the tarrasque in the room?” He can’t see your face in this position. Your body language can only tell him so much; he wishes he could even have a glimpse of your face to read your emotions. “I know you didn’t do it simply for the blessing.”

He can see your back shake as you let out an unsteady stream of air. “Did you see…?”

He hums. He dunks the cloth back into the water, tinting the water pink.

“Every time I did something wrong, she’d force me to watch as another spawn was whipped. Tortured for my mistakes.” You scoff. It’s watery. “I would never be put in their place. No matter how bad I was, I was always too precious. She wanted me to look utterly pristine, only marred by her teeth digging into me every night.

“I just thought- If I ruin that perfect image she’s made of me. If I destroy the thing she holds so dearly, I…”

He wipes away long trails of blood that’d fallen from the lashes, now dried to your skin. “You wanted to know you could disobey her.”

You nod slowly.

“The night I came to you… When I was hungry... I had a nightmare. Of Cazador.” He spits the name like it burns his tongue. “He had rules we had to follow. He beat them into us, made sure we learned our lesson when we stepped out of line. First and foremost, we weren’t allowed to drink from thinking creatures. No humans, or tieflings - even gnomes were off the table.”

He sighed and refreshed the cloth once more. Your injuries were deep, definitely in need of stitches, but he didn’t want to leave to fetch his needle and thread quite yet.

“After that nightmare, I was… scared. I feared, even in my newfound freedom, I wouldn’t be able to disobey. I needed to know that I could. That he can’t control me all the way out here.” He runs a hand soothingly down your arm. “She can’t control you out here.”

“I’m just so tired of being this porcelain doll. This fragile thing with pristine skin. Played with and used. I can’t be that anymore.” You shake your head as emotion chokes you. “I can’t. And if she does find me, I can only hope I’m no longer good enough. Because if I have to go back to that?” You turn to look at him over your shoulder. Your eyes are bloodshot and watery. Silent tears trail your cheeks in the same way your blood had trailed down your back. “Astarion, I…”

He hushes you with a quiet, “I know.” He squeezes your arm before he stands and grabs the bowl. “You need stitches. You’re lucky you have such a skilled needleworker around to help.”

You laugh weakly. You turn away from him again as you wipe the tears from your face. “Thanks.”

“Just, please try to find a better coping mechanism. I can only be so nice before the others suspect I really do have a heart.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnlovesloki @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @mheerdraws @kindadolly @httyd-chocolate @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog

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darkdemeter · 2 months

Text

IN THE ARMS OF YOUR ENEMY PHASES COLLECTION #2/8

— WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN (ONESHOT)

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

| A/N | DISCRETION |

——

SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI — light bondage — MxF version pairing — FxF version pairing — unprotected sex — P in V sex — profanity — pet name "Lamb" — usage of the term "slut" amidst sex — light/alluded breeding kink — reader receiving (male and female variants) — bit of excessive cum — mention of marking — possessive reader — slight stalkerish reader — Hydra agent! reader — enemies/lovers with benefits — I think that's it?

| SUMMARY |

Once again, Wanda will find that she can't exactly keep the wolf out, and she'll find herself back in your arms; no matter how much she detests the idea you're an agent of Hydra.

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3.9K(words)

| M-LIST | TAGLIST:

@alexawynters @alyciaddict @simpforlizzie @literaturedog

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II. Any wolf can forego the hunt of its prey. It takes a particular beast to continue hunting the single lamb that escaped it once. A sickening delight in the torment it brings upon the victim. And no matter what, the lamb’s scent only draws the wolf closer.

New locks, new keys to accompany those new locks, new means of security. Whatever she could get her hands on. Was she wrong to leave the compound, in search of a place of independence?

It’s grown quiet the past two weeks, going on three. She can hope, and only hope, that this means she is finally free. But she has plenty of reasons to doubt.

Keys in hand she plugs it into the lock and twists, entering her apartment. Simple, the floorplan didn’t mess around in trying to make the space something it’s not. Cosy but simple and within budget. Immediately to her right is the open concept kitchen, an L shaped counter anchored to the wall, the basic appliances with it and an island countertop at its centre, completing the design.

To her left, the curtains are almost drawn to the close, leaving only a spying gap open above the small dining table and beige coloured booth seats. Ahead of her is a wooden beamed door frame, twice the size of her front one. It enters the modest lounge room, where a boxed fireplace sits idly in the corner, unlit until the nearing winter begins to settle in. For her piece of mind, a TV sits on a dark cherry wooden cabinet, a box of old, collected sitcom discs and a dvd player go hand in hand together.

She’d taken to making the space truly her own. Here, she isn’t the experimented girl Hydra made her to be. Here, she isn’t a woman who’s feared for her abilities. In this apartment, she is just Wanda Maximoff. A normal, young woman who enjoys cooking heritage meals for dinner - with a recent habit of having takeout at least once a fortnight - going out shopping towards the weekend with Natasha and watching her favourite sitcoms.

But over the last few months, this spot has also attracted something far more sinister. Something that stalks her from the dark alleyways and winding streets. A monster who she knows to be the enemy of the Avengers. Her enemy. An agent of Hydra.

Still… she found herself in your arms again and again. She recalls the reverberting moans trapped within the confines of these very walls. The lengths of pleasurable extortion you’d go to for her to reveal secrets and confidential information.

And in turn, you kept her out of Hydra’s reach, away from getting their hands on her again. Under your protection, her freedom remained intact.

Wanda strips herself of her coat and bag, eyes scanning the lounge room and catching an obscured form occupying the armchair.

“Hey Nat,” she greets, tone calm and unaltered by concern. Natasha had mentioned she was going to stop by for a visit sometime that week.

“Hey, Wanda,” Natasha’s voice replies, voice slightly tuned with a friendly purr.

“What you been up to?” Wanda asks. She grabs the bag of groceries and places them on the island, caught in her own world until the colour in her cheeks drains, the warmth grows cold and in her stomach grows an ominous pit.

“Been watching– you.”

Wanda feels as though the floor will swallow her at any moment, and at this point, that would be a relief. Her eyes land back on the mistaken identity’s form, elbow propped up on the chair’s arm, a small device sits in the palm of a gloved hand. Your gloved hand.

With a roll of your thumb, you click the device off and let your arm drop, manoeuvring yourself to shift in your place.

Wanda finds the hellish pits of amber that reside brightly in her dark lounge room, the day itself looming with stormy clouds. Now with the late evening, darkness settled in far more quickly.

Your lips stretch wide, almost ear to ear like the cheeky cheshire, but Wanda is not amused one bit by your visit in particular. Anyone else would have been fine. Just not you.

“Been ignoring my calls, little Lamb. Just came by to… check in,” you purr, voice deeply seated in its obsessive fever.

“U–uh huh…”

Your chin turns on its axis, brows knitting in your faux confusion. “You sound concerned.”

“Wishful thinking is all.” The words came out before she could even process them. Her hand claps over her mouth, taken aback with a gasp.

Your tongue clicks to the roof of your mouth as you pull yourself from the chair, height now towering over Wanda, even at a distance. “Sweetheart, I’ve been worried. It’s as though you’ve been trying to keep me out.”

Wanda offers in showing kind a pearly smile, flustered and seemingly dumbfounded by the absurdity of your question. As if she was trying to keep you out… she can’t let you catch on.

“Keep you out? What?" Her arms fold over her chest. A nervous tactic, one she often defects to whenever she’s plagued by doubt or fear. You duck your chin in indication towards her front door.

“New locks,” you scoff with a shake of your head, “if you’re really going through these measures, at least amuse me by making it just a little bit hard.”

Wanda’s jaw grows slack, eyes bearing into yours with that radiant flare of fear. The trait one that often arouses you. She portrays it well. Makes the hunt more fun for you.

“I… I don’t…” She cannot bring a single reason to mouth, her tongue tied with the thread of deceit so easily discernible, it shouldn’t be as funny as you find it.

With little else, her fingers move, taut and rigid in their slow, methodical dance but you catch on far too quickly than she can begin to halt.

Hand loosening the cord of your leather belt, you swiftly disarm her crafty hands before she could work to send you flying back.

You scold her with a haughty tut, “Ah, ah, ah!” You grin widely as you bind her hands above her head and force her back against the front door with a booming thud.

“I’ll be the one using my hand, little Lamb.” Your coo is a sickening coil of sinister delight, taken away in your sheer excitement of the hunt she has become accustomed to seeing in the reflective glint of your eyes.

With one hand, you continue to pin her tied wrists over her, your other raises towards your mouth where your fanged canines nip teasingly at the leathery texture, stripping your bare hand free, you toss the glove onto the countertop.

“So I wanna know,” you sigh deeply, “what’s this all about? Hm?”

With every movement of your fingers, she feels her pants loosen, the button and zip to her jeans failing to keep your touch out of reach, soon enough you’re snaking beneath her panties. She moans when your coarse thumb pad drags over her clit, excitement fills her blood and heat brims under her skin.

Her cheeks grow flushed and her folds slicken in the tormenting delight you bring her. The dangerous allure she finds herself drawn to. Back in the arms of her enemy. Incapable to be free of.

She squirms against the door when you roll her clit in slow, firm circles, growling against the shell of her ear.

“If you want to cum, you’ll need to answer a few questions for me.”

Her hips jerk forward suddenly, instinctively, buckling under the coursing pleasure flowing through her body. Unable to deny the flood of desire you bring her to. She moans lowly. “I… I just wanted– to keep you out.”

“Why?”

“Because–” she hisses as your fingers run the line of her aroused, wet folds. “Because you’re my enemy.”

You hum lowly at her answer. “And this concerns you now?”

“The Avengers will catch on. We can’t—”

She freezes instantly at the baring of your teeth, throat coiled with a deep, throaty snarl. “If anyone thinks they’ll come between us, I’ll fucking kill them.”

“Please…” Her voice is shattered by her broken resolve to remain strong and defiant to the effects of your carnal activity, fingers drawing your sharpened claws from their nail beds, you drag them slowly over the lips of her soaking entrance. She pushes her hips forward again with her simple plea.

“Ah, ah,” you hiss coldly, “you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages, Lamb. Very foolish of you.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

You scoff now and your thumb stops in toying with her sensitive bulb, bringing her to whine loudly, giving away just how needy she was.

“I think you can do better than that.”

“I can, I can.” Her words are breathlessly urgent in their tone, it almost takes you by surprise by the way her green eyes traverse downwards between you. Yet her eyes don’t plead her case to continue getting her off; the lustful glaze in her eyes offer to get you off.

FEMALE

Wanda sinks to her knees, her arms raised high above her and still in your hold, she stares up at you with anticipation. She’s hellbent on this little mission of hers. Amused, you chuckle and with expert navigation, you unbuckle the front of your pants and tug down enough to reveal your cunt. Wanda aches her head forward, her tongue balances the line of anticipation that leaves you in its wake.

With a soft, melodic noise, she moves her tongue to curl and lick at your clit, your muscles tense and your core tightens, uttering curses under your breath, it takes everything in you not to pull her head forward and bury her between your strong legs. Still, your hand curls tightly around the leather strap of your belt in warning and restraint.

“Better get that mouth working, Lamb,” you growl deeply, the sound causing a shiver to wrack her spine visibly and she bows her head forward more. Her lips and tongue work in tandem to each other, sliding over the aroused slickness of your folds, clit tormented pleasantly by her mouth, every so often her warm beth beats against your pussy.

“Fuck, girl,” you rasp to hide the otherwise pitiful whine clawing its way up your throat. “C’mon, give it to me like the good slut you are.”

She mewls against your cunt. She’s teasing you, just easing her tongue along the sliver of your entrance but not delving any further than that, overall she pays more attention to your clit, every so often her nose nuzzling it playfully.

Any other time, you’d enjoy and be amused by her little game, but right now she’s fucking toying with you.

You buck your hips aggressively with a sharp hiss as her teeth nip dangerously close. “Oh, you want to go about it that way?” you rumble and she coos, tone innocent despite the eyes saying something else. Spelling mischief.

You hoist her up by the tied juncture of her hands and drag her over to the lonesome kitchen island.

If she was going to play games then so were you. It’s effortless the way you slam her atop the counter, her body squirming and writhing, but you pin her down and she freezes, breath ceasing to exist in her lungs.

“You cornered yourself, Lamb. Now you gotta lie down and take it. And I won’t be kind.”

You can feel in the way her throat bobs that she swallows both pride and realisation, to come to the new revelation and the error of her ways. If only she’d been a little kinder. A little bit more merciful. Because she knew you were never one of true mercy.

She breathes deeply as you seize hold of her legging and rip them down, panties along with them and drop them to the floor. She won’t be needing them anytime soon.

“W-wait,” she gasps only for her words to die on her begging tongue, her back arcs up, body coiling to the ignition of your touch, fingers rough against the cove between her thighs, she moans for more.

But much like her, you refuse to give her exactly what she wants. Her clit is the subject of your torture, thumb rolling in slower circles you’d used before and your other fingers trace the moist line of her pussy that clenches with excitement; with hope of them sinking into her depths.

She says your name then, your attention drawn to the pronunciation of it and you groan with a twisted smirk.

“Please, d-don’t do this,” she sighs lowly, “I-I need you. Badly…”

“Mm, should have thought about that before you decided to be a cheeky lil’ slut.”

You slip your middle finger into her without warning, her face contorted in brutal pleasure, she arches further and bounces her hips, breath growing hot and quicker. “Y–es! Yes!” You add a second finger and then your ring finger, each one touching her spongy walls and stretching her. Each touch stokes the fire of her growing orgasm and she chases it with everything she has; however you’re not going to allow her to revel in the sweetened high of her release.

If she wants to cum around your fingers, she’s going to have to really, really beg for it this time. She curses you and praises you, your name a sultry chant playing on repeat and its a song you will never tire of hearing. If her hands weren’t restrained by your belt, she’d be digging her fingers into your arms like a cat clawing a scratching post, her legs spread further for your touch to exceed beyond the bounds they reach now.

“Right there, r-right there! O–oh fuck!” She’s crying out, streams of tears pave the way to her euphoric torture.

You know she’s getting close. Her body, each a telltale sign, she thinks you’re going to let her cum.

“You wanna cum, Lamb?”

“Yes… yes, yes…”

Your teeth graze the curve of her neck and elicit a shocked gasp from her throat, though her hips keep rocking to the motion of your thrusting fingers, claws scraping the length of her hot, tight walls.

“Then let me mark you, Sweetheart.”

“Wh-what?”

You groan at this, eyes rolling with a snarl. “C’mon, I know you want to. Quit being a fucking tease and let me have one bite.”

Her voice is weak, wheezing on the teetering of her arousal and shock.

“We can’t— fuck, Wolf! L-let me cum!”

Pushing her body further into your fingers, you pull your hand away, fingers on the verge of retracting completely and your thumb flicks her clit until she yelps.

“I don’t think you’re being very fair, Wanda Maximoff,” you growl, amber eyes burning with the intensity of a third degree.

It’s little wonder why you feel this dark seed of possessiveness fester inside your soul. At first, you thought it naught but Hydra’s doing that fucked up the natural wiring of your brain, scrappng way the wolf’s more tame and pack orientated habits, only to leave the rabid nature to maim and kill.

But now you’re so that those natural instincts are there still. Fried and seriously altered into some twisted version, but still there.

You came to recognise that your little obsession was more in depth than you originally predicted. Wanda Maximoff, Hydra’s once experiment and now enemy, is your fated mate. A wild night of desperately relieving yourself over and over again, like a drug had poisoned your body, all you could think about was Wanda.

Now she wasn’t giving you what you wanted. To mark her, to show that whoever fucked around would find out. That if anyone touched her, they were dead.

You withdraw your thrusting fingers right as she is about to be delivered to her sweet release, denied, she almost screams in protest.

“I was… I was so close,” she seethes, “Why’d you stop?”

With a wolfish huff, you push your fingers inside her to a still and she swears you drag her down the counter.

“If you refuse to let me mark you, Lamb, then I’ll find a way for you to have my pups. And you’ll have no choice but be sent into the arms of your enemy.”

MALE

Wanda sinks to her knees, her arms raised high above her and still in your hold, she stares up at you with anticipation. She’s hellbent on this little mission of hers. Amused, you chuckle and with expert navigation, you loosen the constraining pressure around your hardened cock, letting it spring free. Already, your beady tip grazes across her plump lips, swollen with your feverish need, you hoarsely grunt. “Get to it, Lamb.”

Her tongue brushes the underside of your cock and you groan, eyes screwing tightly together the further along her breath comes over you, slowly sinking your length between her parted lips. Her cheeks hollow to accommodate your girth, moaning a muffled sound.

She pauses halfway, throat tightening around your intruding tip and your hips stutter, the force of willpower to not cum down her throat right then bringing a pleasured grimace to form over your face. “Look at you,” you grin widely, “on your knees like a go little slut.”

She moans louder, the sound bouncing your cock in her mouth. You sink deeper until she’s taken all she can, almost swallowing your entire cock. In her eyes, the brimming of tears well into a glossy curtain that spill over at the first thrust, slow but hard, she chokes around your size.

“That’s right– fuck! Take it, fucking hell, you’re mouth is hot.” You’re panting heavily as your thrusts grow in punctuated speed, hand coiling around her bound wrists tightly, your other finds itself around her throat, feeling each time your cock delve down the tunnel of her throat.

She mewls, either in protest or plea, her thighs clench together in her position, tearful eyes blurred between complete darkness and the illuminated view of your hips driving forward, your cock moving up and down her throat with rapid succession as you chase your high.

“S-s-so b-big…” Her words come out muffled, barely audible as she gulps around your length, moans growing higher in pitch into whines.

“Yeah,” you rasp, “fucking so big, you’re choking ‘round me.”

She nods eagerly and groans when you piston your hips harder, the swelling in your balls giving away that the fun is almost over.

With a grunt you withdraw from Wanda’s mouth, lips parted wide and strings of saliva and precum coat the edges of her mouth. Her eyes find yours burning a thousand degrees hotter into her soul, scorching it with such intensity, it took everything in her not to squirm beneath you with need.

“As much as I’d love to see you swallow my load, I’d rather have your cunt do that.”

You can smell the sweet nectar between her legs, her core undoubtedly soaked, you pull her up by the leather instrument around her wrists. You push her legging and panties down her legs until they pool at her ankles, ushering her to kick away the unnecessary clothing.

She shivers, voice hoarse as you back her against the door again, the whisper of your name is softened by the feathery texture of her lust. She’s fucking drenching you tip that lines her awaiting entrance, greedily, she squeezes around nothing and pouts, whining for you to hurry up, to fuck her hard and raw until she’s dripping with your cum.

“Shh, Lamb,” you coo through a bite of clenching teeth, pushing inside her pussy with a relieved sigh, for a second time, you have to fight to keep yourself from blowing your load.

She moans deeply into the side of your neck. Looping her arms around your neck, she’s caged between you and the door, and you begin to eagerly rut your hips.

The modest apartment’s four walls once again are the cells containing your time of ecstasy together, moans bouncing off the balls and heavy bouts of panted breath and slapping skin drive you each to the edge of your own insanity.

There Is only the need for more. None of you want to stop this arrangement no matter how conflicting it can be to your respective parties. The Avengers and Hydra can war and raise fire with one another all they want, you’re just taking what’s yours at this point.

And if this is the end of your time, you’re going to fucking enjoy every bit of it that’s Wanda before you’re put six feet under.

“Fuck- f-fuck, don’t stop,” Wanda breathlessly chants, “right there, oh shit— don’t–”

You moa deeply and pick up the pace behind your thrusts that ruthlessly rut Wanda back against the door with loud patterns of thumps.

“Fuck, Baby– you’re so tight…”

“I’m so close!” she mewls lousy in her announcement, her head tilted to the side and the juncture of her neck exposed. Your teeth graze it and she gasps.

“C’mon, I know you want to,” you growl with a jerk of your hips, your tip kissing her cervix roughly to press the air from her lungs.

“But–” She’s cut off by the new, brutal angle you choose, viciously you rock her hips upwards until she’s practically sliding up and down against the door, her nails bite into the leather of the belt and her legs encircle your waist, momentarily losing balance and following the pace of your movement.

“Wolf, please!”

“Shit, cum for me, Wanda, cum for me.”

She breaks for your command and cries out in a flurry of stringed curses, her orgasm a crashing flood that engulfs and squeezes around your cock. “That’s it, Sweetheart… that’s it.”

She relaxes against you while you aid her in riding out her high, eyes dazed in her post-orgasmic state, she hiccups and gasps with each wave of thrusts that continue to surge through her.

Again, you tease her, teeth bared against the flesh of her exposed neck. “One little bite…”

“W-we can’t—”

Groaning lowly, you retort, “You’re such a fucking tease.”

But now you’re so that those natural instincts are there still. Fried and seriously altered into some twisted version, but still there.

Now she wasn’t giving you what you wanted. To mark her, to show that whoever fucked around would find out. That if anyone touched her, they were dead.

Your thrusts grew sloppy, the rhythm lost to your desperation to the swelling knot as your release came upon you, you whine lowly. The tip of your cock erupts violently with spurted rivers of your cum, far exceeding that of the average, human male, Wanda’s womb becomes heavy with your seed.

“Sh–shit!” Wanda moans quietly with a hiccup when your knot ties against her entrance, locking you in place inside her tight cunt.

“If you refuse to let me mark you, Lamb, then you’ll mother my pups. And you’ll have no choice but be sent into the arms of your enemy.”

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swanimagines · 2 years

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Could I request morpheus finding his wife after imprisonment in the mortal realm maybe she left to keep watch of the dreams that left the dreaming and is living as a mortal (maybe has a job at a bookstore). Morpheus gets slightly possessive and protective (you're my wife you belong in the dreaming where you're safe) and maybe gets a little jealous of a human friend she made. Ends with them goung back to the dreaming. I kinda imagine a grumpy x sunshine vibe. it can be fluffy slightly-angsty or even more of a funnier side up to you either way I'll read it

Also I say wife and fem-terms but I don't mind it being made gender neutral if you prefer

Thank you for your time and effort I look forward to more amazing content ✨️ 💕

Fandom: The Sandman

A/N: I made her as female because the thing in these is that when you use certain pronouns and say that she's his wife etc when requesting, I can't help but mentally adapt it onto the fic = I might accidentally use womanly stuff even if I'm trying to write it gn = I might get hate for it (it has happened before and it was quite a show last time which ended in a big drama and I lost a lot of followers for that and I definitely don't want it to happen again). Saying because I know someone might think I'm avoiding gn the best I can and attack me for it if I don't say anything. (And clarifying that I don't think it's your fault, it's just one of my oddities and I apologize for that, and yeah I have to admit that I prefer writing fem reader because at least then I know I won't make mistakes that would cause drama, but I want my blog to be as inclusive as possible with my abilities so I also write gn)

Word count: 1.4k

When your husband disappeared, the whole Dreaming had gone crazy. People were worried about him first - then frustrated, and then they started to flee. You and Lucienne tried to tell them to stay and questioned if they'd really believe Morpheus would abandon his kingdom and all of its people like that.

"It has happened before," Afsaix grumbled as he packed his bags with everything he owned. "There's no telling when he'll return."

You grabbed the faun's arm and made him look at you. "He will come back! I know it!" Your words came out more desperate than you intended.

Lucienne watched the scene from the door, sighing as yet another resident of The Dreaming was about to leave.

The faun ripped his arm from your grip, closing his bag. "Don't be ridiculous, he's been gone for what, over 30 years? My house is in crumbles, I have nothing here anymore… We need to find somewhere new," he said quietly but firmly. He shook himself as if your hands had given him fleas and left.

"Lucienne, we have to stop this!" you pleaded with the only person who was just as confident of Morpheus returning as you were.

"I'm afraid there's little to do other than wait. Once Lord Morpheus comes back, we can work on restoring all this, but until then, we can only wait." She sighed, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

You nodded in defeat, knowing she's right. Then your eyes widened, only now realising where the dreams are going.

"Lucienne, they're going to The Waking World, which means that someone has to guard them," you told your friend desperately. "I have to go there and guard their doings. They can cause a lot of damage in there."

"I understand your concern, my lady, but are you certain you're ready to take such a large job on you?" Lucienne asked kindly.

You nodded again. "I have to, it's my responsibility while my husband is away. I will make sure everything remains safe." You bit your lip before you briefly hugged her. "And you, keep people who decide to stay safe here."

"I will do my best, my lady."

***

You had settled in a little town and began working at a little bookshop around the corner with a nice woman living upstairs, secretly keeping an eye on dreams and nightmares that had escaped here. Most dreams settled just fine, living a peaceful life. But you sensed they felt like they didn't completely fit in this world, which was true, and you were sure they'd come back once Morpheus would return.

A hand was laid on your shoulder, and you smiled at your friend - Michael, a young man, barely 18, and you had persuaded Mrs. Brooks give him his first job.

"What is it?" you asked gently, and Michael gestured at one of the shelves with an elderly woman.

"She's trying to find a book that she read as a child, she doesn't seem to understand we don't have so old books."

"Oh dear," you sighed as you walked up to her.

The woman stared blankly into space, repeating "I need that storybook," over and over again.

You whipped your hand, a book appearing in your hand. "This one?" You held out the book, and her eyes lit up when she saw the title.

"Oh! Exactly that one, the young man over there said that you don't have it."

"Michael is new, and this is our last edition. Do forgive him."

The woman came to the desk, tightly holding onto the book and gave you a generous amount of money, way too much for it. "Keep the change, you just made an old woman's year." She patted your cheek kindly before leaving with the precious book.

You smiled after her, Michael blinking.

"How do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what? Make people happy?"

"No! The thing that you know exactly what they're looking for without them telling you, and then you just have it in your hands the next moment." He frowned thoughtfully.

You chuckled softly, putting your hand on his shoulder. "I guess I just am good at reading humans. But Michael, would you be a dear and go unload a box of books that arrived this morning? I have to order another box for next week."

"Of course, right away," Michael replied eagerly, going back to work. You went behind the counter and got to work yourself, barely hearing a tingle of the door bell as the door opened. You heard steps and saw someone stopping to stand between the shelves.

"I'll be with you in a moment," you called out. The person didn't answer, but stood still which you found a little weird and finally looked up. Your breath hitched when you met his gaze.

He stood there in his black coat and a small smile playing on his lips, and you couldn't help but feel something stir inside your chest. It was like butterflies were flying around in there, as if you saw him for the first time - and it kind of was, first time in over a century. "Morpheus!" you breathed happily.

"My love." His voice whispered as you circled the counter and ran to him. You crushed against him with all the strength left in your body - his smell filled your nose, the warmth of his coat embracing you. Then he pulled away slightly, searching your eyes.

"Where have you been?" You asked urgently. "I've missed you so much."

"I was imprisoned, my sweet," he told you sadly, cupping your face tenderly. "I was kept away because of people's selfishness and greediness."

You kissed him then, relieved that he's returned safe and sound. Then you heard someone clear their throat and broke away, looking at Michael frowning at the two of you. Morpheus frowned back at him, but you just smiled.

"Michael, can I introduce you to my husband?" You laughed lightly before gesturing the boy closer.

"Oh! So this is your husband, he returned from his trip then? Pleasure to meet you, I'm Michael." he extended his hand to Morpheus, but he didn't shake it, just glared at him and Michael retreated his hand. "Right. Um, do excuse me." He cleared his throat again nervously and walked back to the storage room.

You frowned at Morpheus after Michael had closed the door after him "Why did you do that for? He tried to be nice."

"Humans are not nice. They are full of themselves, thinking they are better than everyone else. People who kept me prisoner showed me how humans truly are." Morpheus sighed heavily, and you rolled your eyes.

"You're jealous." He didn't reply, but his expression confirmed it. "You have no reason to."

"We will go back to The Dreaming now." he muttered, turning towards the door, but stopping as he saw you had no intention to follow him.

"Morpheus, I have to take care of the shop first."

He sighed, lifting his chin up. "No, you are my wife, you belong in The Dreaming with me, where you are safe. You do not belong here among mortals."

"I didn't mean I'm staying here for good," you said with a small laugh. "I just have to arrange things so I won't leave anyone in trouble."

"You worry too much," he murmured, leaning down and kissing your forehead tenderly. His hands stroked your cheeks softly and looked around the little bookshop. "This is... nice looking."

"Well, not as nice as the library at the palace, but it's a cute little shop." you grinned, taking in your surroundings. This building had been your workplace for over a century, it had gone for so long that you pretended to be the great-granddaughter of your first self, but you always knew there would be an end for it. You had told Mrs. Brooks when you started working that you'd quit once your husband returns from overseas from his "business trip" and one of your employment conditions were that you have the right to quit on the spot if you wished. She had been fine with it, she had a bunch of people who were willing to do part-time job there in case they were in need of a new employee - her friends who had already retired, if you had gotten it right.

So you squeezed your husband's hand and made your way upstairs to tell Mrs. Brooks that it had come your time to leave, and after hugging Michael and getting a box of cookies from Mrs. Brooks and her wife, you took off with Morpheus, back to The Dreaming.

Back to home.

---

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